If I was a photographer I can’t say I’d be to over the moon at being assigned to a Fever Ray gig. The first reason is noticeable to anyone who gets near the crowd barrier in the form of two lines of white tape stuck to the edge of the stage and barrier itself. Both strips are more towards the side of the stage, a good few metres apart from each other. Only an inquisitive mind would need to ask so when the security at the stage told me to be careful of the tape and not touch it I could only naturally ask why. “It’s for the singer. She doesn’t like photographers in her face so they’re only allowed to take pictures from behind these lines” explained the guard. My guess is the angle for most of pictures from press photographers tonight will have much the same angle to them.
Following the customary rule photographers were only allowed to take pictures for the first three songs of each set tonight but at least they can be thankful that Nika Roza Danilova – lead singer and mastermind behind the Zola Jesus name – started using the space on stage after her first song. What hit me first was how thunderous the drums were even though they came from a machine, which initially seemed a letdown as the presence of live drums on her Stridulum EP was a core reason it was such an impressive collection of songs.
Nonetheless the whole sound was surprisingly as full as you’d want it to be with the music from the keyboards sucking the air out of the room and recycling it into some sort of awe-inspiring terrorsome low tones. Danilova’s voice was still the main feature though, overwhelming anyone who might make unneeded and predictable jibes at her height. She paced about from one side of the stage to the other like an animal trapped in a cage. But despite her constant movement during a song’s duration every note was hit clearly and with passion. Subtle changes made for the most effective moments though: singing the last lines of “I Can’t Stand” an octave higher gave even more emotional pull; dropping out pretty much all the music and beats for a verse of “Manifest Destiny” made the chorus seem more powerful than I could have imagined it.
Putting her microphone back in its stand she stood still in front of the audience and glared past them as she sang “Run Me Out.” At this point I began to think she had literally worn herself out but as the song builds I realize she’s composing herself carefully to reach those long notes, conducting herself almost as she raise he arms with her voice. Her lack of eye contact with the audience did make the whole set a little impersonal but I guess with music this dark and pressing you have to take yourself into a different world, forgetting the crowd staring at you.
The second reason it’s not advisable to take up photography at a Fever Ray gig might well be that your photos of the support act will be restricted too if performing act doesn’t utilize the space they are given to play. But considering Zola Jesus was active and moving about the second reason would have to presence of the incense blocks at each side of the stage. Perhaps tactically placed at the tip of the white tape barriers on stage, the sticks are all lit not long before the main set begins, releasing small clouds of smoke and likely obscuring the view of the main act even more for the photographers.
And then there’s the third reason: the actual smoke machines. A few minutes before Karin Dreijer Andersson and her band took to the stage the machines went off over and over until practically the whole venue was filled with a bitter tasting fog with nothing more than the faint view of lights around the venue creeping through. And from the fog on stage came Fever Ray, tonight in the form of five individuals. Karin’s band were dressed in smart attire, two as men in suits and two as woman in long vintage skirts and white old women’s blouses. Oh, and also some of the creepiest bald prosthetic face mask you’ll likely ever see. From a distance they would probably look normal but the closer you get to them and the way the toothy smiles creep through the mouth holes, the more shivers it sends down your spine. And then there’s Karin herself, donning a somewhat indescribable headdress/mask. Imagine if you will a large black isosceles triangle with two chequered semi-circles attached to the long sides. In the middles of this a long white oval with a sort of backwards “Z,” the bottom third of which has an opening for Karin’s mouth which is painted silver or gold, depending on how the lights were.
If you seek them out the pictures will make the descriptions of the band clearer but they likely won’t have the same foreboding effect they have when they wander on stage through the fog. And if anything there must be severe kudos given to Karin for being able to perform in something as cumbersome as that. And by performing I don’t just mean singing as she surprised me not just by playing keys on a few songs but even donning a guitar for a few tracks. It’s interesting if anything to see how these tracks transfer onto stage. The percussion came via numerous drums to the left of the stage while the two band members on Karin’s right take up duties on guitar and laptop.
Opening song “If I Had A Heart” got a bit lost in the reverberating bass line, washing out Karin’s haunting wails but this turned out to be a one off for the evening. Every following song was performed with a haunting accuracy that kept it true to original form from on her self-titled debut from last year (which still sounds brilliant months on). Some songs even hit harder: “Here Before” literally shook the stage; “Concrete Walls” bellowed low and even though she was in the presence of few hundred people, the lyrics rang out like that of a woman so very alone; “I’m Not Done” even seemed more forceful and thrilling by the pointing hand gestures Karin made when she sang the words from the song’s title.
The audience were a curious mix too. Some stood amazed and captivated while others took to dancing and screaming like giddy schoolgirls. I found myself questioning if being critical of those moving about (and somewhat irritatingly bumping into me) was right. Onstage are what look like shop window dummies with swords in their backs and faces half melted, moving about vigorously and energetically. We might feel inclined to go into a zombie-like state and just stand there but when the zombies in front of us with injuries of all sorts are moving about, why shouldn’t we as an audience follow suit?
But such questions are futile and pointless musing over when the show is happening right in front of your eyes. And what a feast for the eyes it was. Scattered about the stage were seventeen household lamps that flickered on of and off often in time with the music. Around them lasers were shot into the crowd creating a sort of light barrier, separating the audience from Karin and her band even more. But when the lasers above her and us spread out and flickered they caught the smoke in the air and effect looked like the surface of water making for a beautiful sight amidst the horror story costumes.
A Fever Ray show can be described at the very as a visual masterpiece. The music is still stunning and is accentuated finely by the doings on stage but more often the case seemed to be that the visual element overtook what your ears were being fed. The band themselves were entertaining in the way they played their instruments with a sort of possessed passion (the highlight being when one took to smashing up his guitar after getting as much distorted noise from it as possible). Thinking about it, I don’t think I’d ever need to see any photos from the show. The lyrics of “Keep The Streets Empty For Me” ring true regarding the indented place just the towering and daunting image of Karin Dreijer in full costume has now take in my head; “I will never disappear/ for forever I am here.” And that applies to everything else I saw on stage during this show.
