The ground shook slightly as Glasgow rock instrumentalists Mogwai came to Perth Theatre after a long absence from Tayside venues.
Long after having shocked and deafened Dundee Caird Hall concert-goers with their support of Manic Street Preachers in 1998 and having stolen the thunder of T in the Park headliners Blur a year later, I wasn’t sure what to expect from a group now into their 16th year.
Six albums older and a wee bit wiser, Mogwai went from filling the likes of Barrowlands with noise to the theatre’s more genteel surroundings.
A piano recital was booked for the concert hall, which was a shame, as I think a larger audience would have enjoyed one of Scotland’s most consistent bands in a space more suited to their massive sound.
As predicted, the venue hurt the bottom end of what we heard the clashing, thrashing Rano Pano was muddy if still enjoyable but the delicate passages of earlier work like Cody were picked out beautifully in contrast.
As a touring band just not around here that often Mogwai are a little contrary in their setlists, but on Friday night they offered a selection from their entire career.Rare airingOlder fans missed out a little as the band profess to disliking much of their early material, but the tracks I heard did their back catalogue justice. A rare airing of Helicon 1 drew some of the biggest applause.
They played key excerpts from this year’s album with the tongue-in-cheek title Hardcore Will Never Die, But You Will of which Rano Pano was my favourite and sounded like ghosts having a swordfight.
Monaco Grand Prix blazed with electronic noise, reminiscent of long-championed Krautrock bands Neu and Can.
Saved for the encore, Mogwai Fear Satan sounds like the Skye Boat Song filtered through a warm church window, and a joy to hear in a live environment.
As with most instrumental rock what magazines used to call “post-rock” before boredom set in Mogwai are a stoic, next to immobile live act. The intimate venue brought that home, but the audience could also see how taxing many of the songs were, every furrowed brow and wry smile when a section came together just right.
The band’s Marmite-like appeal once divided a musical nation due to a penchant for noise and scratchy, yearning electronics, but the songs here suggest a more thoughtful group than that which frightened parents in the mid-90s.
They still play loud but have learned how to play clever.