Japanese act Boris are infinitely fascinating as headliners at London's Desertfest

Desertfest 2014

Friday 25th to Sunday 27th April 2014
various venues, Camden, Greater London, NW1 0NE, England MAP
£85 (+ booking fee)

Daily capacity: 1,000

Last updated: Mon 24th Mar 2014

The compellingly eccentric Japanese act Boris have returned to the English capital, two years following their previous musical sojourn here. Acting like a poster for musical bravery and curiosity, seeing Boris live is a necessary spectacle for anyone harbouring even an embryonic and non-superficial interest in guitar-based music. One of the headliners to London's Desertfest, the Electric Ballroom rightfully fills with music aficionados on a Sunday evening.

However, first fellow countrymen Church of Misery take the stage. Given the current trend in metal favours the stoner and traditional doom varities, these Tokyo natives secure a solid crowd and being part of the Rise Above roster does nothing but help. Formed in 1995 and with five full-length titles under their belt, this four-piece crank out a fairly typical take on the aforementioned two genres. Guitar work sounds like a union between Black Sabbath and Down, with blues-inspired seventies tones conjuring desert imagery while frontman Hideki Fukasawa emits a harsh vocal rasp on top. Interestingly, the bass uses a wah pedal but unfortunately its sound over-powers the guitar tonight. Lyrically, the band is obsessed with serial killers although the music does not sound particularly sinister or murderous.

Church of Misery's set starts and finishes in precisely the same place with very little musical diversity, as is routine with this branch of doom metal's miniscule room for experimentation. Fukasawa's drunken-inspired dancing is amusing to watch and an outstanding bass solo easily snatches the highlight of the performance title but otherwise, this quartet struggles to retain the large volume of punters who were present at the opening of their set.

Entirely opposite to Church of Misery in their addiction to subversion, headliners Boris take the stage enshrined in smoke and begin proceedings with post-rock number 'Blackout'. The audience reaction is positively overwhelming and mosh pits erupt spontaneously; the crowd is unusually enthusiastic for London. Having dipped their toe into the likes of doom metal, ambient, drone, pop, psychedelic, shoegaze, noise and more musical styles, the Japanese trio are a paradigm of the musical boundaries that can be pushed and played with.

This lack of commitment to any singular style alone leaves the fans questioning what the setlist will be formulated with, never mind the copious accumulation of releases bearing the Boris name. The setlist unsurprisingly takes the humble path of favouring songs more accessible in the live environment although there remains a wide choice of styles exhibited tonight, including the stoner rock 'Pink', the psychedelic 'Akuma No Uta', the pop 'Rainbow' and the emotional but experimental doom metal piece 'Cosmos'. Investigating a variety of emotions, tempos and textures by reducing musical notes to simply sounds, Boris destroy any limitations that other bands faithfully abide by. Their stage presence is alluring in a mysterious way but there is definitely an honest excitement in performing, spearheaded most boldly by drummer Atsuo Mizuno's cheerful cries of “Woo!” that frequently punctuate the songs.

The self-referential 'Vomitself' sees the band make a hasty goodbye to the attendees before leaving the stage. Yet the Tokyo natives return to a proud ovation before launching into the curtain-calling and aptly titled song 'Farewell', flexing their post-rock muscles yet again. After a tidy rendition of this track, Boris vacate the stage after a hail of thanks to the audience.

The oddity of Boris is infinitely fascinating and they will always be an act shrouded in aura and supported for their attack on conformity and mediocrity. In a city as large and musically-eccentric as London, Boris should do the capital a favour and play here more often.

review by: Elena Francis