Thoughts on Knifeplay, Live at Lager House
by Dominic Raths
At some point in the past year I got an email notification that someone I follow on Bandcamp bought Animal Drowning by Knifeplay. The cover art depicts what appears to be a man in a flat, flooded field with a rifle. The picture is upside down. Their bandcamp url is ‘/knifeplayforever’ and a lot of their cover art is amateurish with lowercase titles. I may be reading this wrong but their aesthetic has an oddly casual feel to it with a little devil may care thumbing the nose attitude. The name Knifeplay is either in reference to a style of foreplay involving sexual arousal by introducing knives into the bedroom or to Xiu Xiu's debut album, or both, or maybe neither. Regardless, it sat on my phone tab list of "to listen to" for a while. When I did end up getting to it, I decided that they are an exceptional example of the shoegaze/acoustic ethereal folk revival that's been spreading through indie music circles over the past ten or so years. And as it so happened they were on tour and were going to be at Lager House on October 4th. A Wednesday. So I plucked up my courage and headed out, accepting that I would be dead for work in the morning.
There was nowhere to park since the neighboring venue was having some sort of more accessible event. As I circled for about ten minutes, nearly getting hemmed in a few times by others trying to park, I very nearly abandoned hope and was tempted to go home. It was then that stubborn obstinance took root and I drove until I found an intimidating self pay parking garage that was about ten minutes walking speed away. I am not used to using QR codes so I didn't know to check in and look at the rates and was already about thirty minutes late so I stole away down the double wide sidewalk to the venue. The gentle breeze of the summer turning to fall air whisked my cigarette smoke away as I stormed on in my determined, angled gait.
Upon entering I noticed the welcoming sight of someone sitting by the door taking money for admission and I felt the relief that I didn't have to buy a ticket in advance, something I wish was more common when going to see anything live. The bar appeared full of regulars with a merch table at the back run by Tj Strohmer, one of Knifeplays vocalist and guitarists, and their songwriter. Detroit natives Zilched were well into their set but I liked what I heard, an earnest take on goth pop that was both accessible and enjoyable. I went to the merch table to see what they had on offer and stood in line behind someone who was relating a prior meeting with M. Strohmer extensively. I cooled my anxiety by staring into the middle space. I exchanged a few words with M. Strohmer, hoping they had a copy of Hurt Someone available since it is currently out of print. They did not. I asked about Zilched's merch table, to which M. Strohmer dutifully informed me that he had nothing to do with. Embarrassed, I offered a fist bump and made my exit.
Another Detroit native, Zastava, played next. A heavier melodic post-punk set ensued. Apparently they blew the bass amp while playing. They closed with three new songs that were the most energetic and varied entries of the evening. I inquired after their set about the state of the tracks and they informed me that they planned on recording soon. I hope they do and that they're able to capture the energy they displayed that evening, as their other recorded material is just short of that feat.
I stood awkwardly around waiting for Knifeplay to come on stage and as they did unceremoniously, without announcement, and started playing with a distorted sustained wail, I was at full attention. There was very little interaction. The set was choppy, at the conclusion of each song two of the three guitarists (one on lead, solo, distorted duty, one acoustic plucking, and the other on electric rhythm) looked at their feet and tuned their guitars in the silence of the crowded room. I was enthralled and engaged in their oddly defiant stance. It was socially awkward in a truly vindicating sense. The mixing was a bit off and I couldn't tell if the band was frustrated by it or if their determined gaze over the heads in the crowd was the result of pressure to perform, hyperfocus on the notes, or irritation at the state of the mix. The six of them seemed crowded on the stage. At the end Strohmer requested more acoustic since he had none on his monitor.
At this point of the review I stopped writing and felt that I was completely out of my depth. I don't think I can review music, let alone a performance. Was I being too direct or too vague about what I was feeling or seeing? I'm notoriously awful at defining music by genre. Was my description of the band offensive or insensitive? I felt completely closed off and inept. How does one really describe a performance? The importance of which will be lost on those who weren't there, or were inebriated, or in the other room desperately trying to drown it out. The experience of the pimp who was visible through the window behind the band, who wore a three piece cream suit with a read shirt, white tie, and feather in his stetson, who calmly entered the audi driven by his chauffeur who opened the door for him and closed it soundly behind, these are things I cannot accurately depict for you. A live show at a bar for an up and coming band as emotional and earnest as Knifeplay is something you had to be there for. Their music is good. It blends air driven plucked and reverberated acoustic guitar with stabbing and distorted jabs from guitar smothered in overdrive and reverb. The vocals feel like glass baubles floating through the air, fragile but sturdy, never touching the ground, but occasionally crashing against a stone cliff face. The members are eclectic and look like a ragtag team of professionals from different backgrounds teaming up for a heist. I hope you check them out. I hope they are successful. I'm glad I went.
I was exhausted by the end of the performance. I am getting older and my ears hurt from years of abuse. As they packed after their last song I swiftly took my leave, wordless and fluid out the door and down the street. I navigated the QR code that cost me a full day's parking. I undertook the long drive back to Toledo.