Now that I have finally seen them live, I know for certain: these three are the only three musicians in the world who could be doing what they are doing. While this may not be a unique thought, I had never felt it as strongly as I did last week in Warsaw. The degree of idiosyncratic chemistry, of sheer professionalism, was such that any tiny moment of distraction on my part seemed like a terrible waste of time.
A Necks live performance does not feature too many songs. This night in the grand but intimate setting of the Concert Studio of Polish Radio they played two extended hour-long pieces separated by a brief intermission. Famously, a live piece by The Necks starts as a very quiet, minimalist, jazzy piano melody augmented by a subtle drum roll and a barely audible bass line. It is fragile and slightly unnerving but also hypnotic. This initial groove never really goes away. Rather, it grows in intensity and acquires new details, constantly, over the next thirty minutes or so. These details are sometimes very slight but let your thoughts take you away for a short while and you will suddenly notice that the groove is much wilder now, and fuller, and louder. Look closer, and you will see that the double bass is currently being played with a huge bow.
There will be many twists and turns before we reach the ending but to me the most exciting bit is this lengthy denouement, the part when they start to unwind and deconstruct the groove. All of a sudden, there is a new beauty that you had previously missed. Slowly but assuredly, the music begins to subside while never giving up any of its insane technicality. The groove is just as tight as ever. The groove is totally controlled, and I cannot even begin to imagine how much stamina it all requires from the musicians. Actually, the final few minutes reminded me of a story I once read about The Who's shows in the late 1970s. During one of those, Keith Moon passed out onstage due to drugs or alcohol and they had to find a replacement in the audience. A young drummer climbed onto the stage and managed to hold the beat for a song or two before succumbing to exhaustion. Well, I can't imagine anyone doing a minute of this Necks stuff. It is totally breathless.
The New York Times once called The Necks the most powerful trio in the world, and while I have always loved these Australians (hard to say how many times I must have heard LPs like Hanging Gardens or Aether), it took this live performance to really drive home the point. I do not know how much of it is improvisation (I'm guessing none of it) but the whole thing sounds incredibly tight and professional. Interestingly, while technically this is quite impeccable, there is an emotional substance to them. Sooner or later, the beauty gets through. Genre-wise, what they do is mostly jazz but there are also distinct rock and classical overtones. Speaking of the latter, some of the elegant piano lines reminded me of classical minimalists like Satie or Debussy.
Admittedly, I often treat The Necks as great background music for writing (again, it would be hard to say how many pages I have written listening to Three during the Covid times) - they have this tight, driving rhythm that rarely gets in the way of your thinking. However, seeing these three ordinary-looking men take the places on that vast, empty stage (occupied by nothing but their instruments) created a new sensation in me. They had my undivided attention, and they held it all the way through. There was a lovely complexity to their music, but there was also something greatly appealing about it. Breathlessly, I spent the whole evening watching how effortlessly they go from quiet and unobtrusive to wild and absolutely mind-blowing. A once in a lifetime experience, and quite unlike anything I had ever seen.