A PERFECT CIRCLE
VENUE brixton academy, london
DATE 13/06/18
Given the level of agonizing that goes into his work – Eat The Elephant is A Perfect Circle’s first album in 14 years, and Tool’s last effort surfaced 12 years ago – frontman Maynard James Keenan is clearly the kind of man who begins deliberating over his Christmas card salutations in July.
And even then, you can be sure that you’ll be warned off from wasting your time on anything as trite as organised religion or the concept of a supernatural power greater than yourself.
And so it proves tonight, as A Perfect Circle’s disciples, here gathered at the first of two sold-out shows at this celebrated venue, are cautioned by a stentorian, robotic voice emanating from the PA that any usage of mobile phones for photographic and recording purposes will result in immediate expulsion from the venue. Though that sounds more than a little pompous, it makes perfect sense as A Perfect Circle ease themselves from set opener Eat The Elephant to the critique of the digital age that is Disillusioned.
Keenan’s detractors have had a field day attempting to paint him as an out-oftouch curmudgeon, railing against gadgets and gizmos like some kind of contemporary Canute. Yet to take a glance at the rammed audience, whose gaze is transfixed at what’s going on in front of them and not at a pixellated screen, is to be reminded of a time when this was the norm. The only things missing are plumes of exotically fragranced smoke wafting across the venue, but hey, you can’t have everything.
The stage set is certainly worth savouring. Three LED light strips, their images altering throughout, are placed above the stage and on the three risers positioned upstage, each one from left to right bigger than its predecessor. Multi-instrumentalist Greg Edwards takes the smallest, Keenan is silhouetted in the middle and drummer Jeff Friedl occupies the largest, stage left. This leaves guitarist Billy Howerdel – tight of trouser and shiny of head – and bassist Matt McJunkins to prowl the sizeable downstage area left for them. Above and behind, spotlights strafe the stage and the audience, and such is the hypnotic power of the lights that on more than occasion, people’s hands reach out to grab them.
A Perfect Circle are a band who make few concessions. Their music is frequently dense and oppressive and the audience go to them, because they sure as hell aren’t coming for the audience. The only thing asked – by implication – is whether the crowd take or leave it. But on this occasion, the covers offered tonight – Brinsley Schwarz’s (What’s So Funny ’Bout) Peace,
Love And Understanding and John Lennon’s Imagine – we could do without. At least the lyrical concerns of a heavy-handed reading of AC/DC’s Dog Eat Dog match their aesthetic.
Yet these sins aside, A Perfect Circle come into their own during the second half of the set. Blending newer cuts such as a pummelling The Contrarian and TalkTalk with the established The Outsider and Counting Bodies Like Sheep To
The Rhythm Of The War Drums, the night is theirs for the taking. The onslaught is relentless and the spellbound audience greedily lap it up.
“It’s our job as artists to observe, interpret and report,” Keenan reminds the audience. “We’re merchants of emotion. We need to spread love like chlamydia, as often as we can.”
Don’t leave it so long next time, then, and bring the antibiotics with you.