BEAK> @ King Tut’s Wah Wah Hut, Glasgow

Were it not for their distinguished members, it’s unlikely that BEAK> would have gained quite so many column inches as they did in 2009; not because they were undeserving, but moreover because their music is wholly un-commercial sounding. The most high profile of the Bristolian trio is Geoff Barrow, one third of Portishead and producer of The Horrors’ (who actually make an appearance in the crowd tonight) Primary Colours.

First on the bill are Suplex The Kid who seem like another run-of-the-mill bunch of post-rocking Mogwai wannabes, with added shoegaze/nu-gaze affectations. This initial impression is somewhat unfair, as while their set progresses, the music becomes altogether more interesting than straight ahead copyism. It comes off somewhere in between Jesu and Explosions In The Sky and it’s definitely more enjoyable than this writer’s initial eyeball-rolling response would have given them credit for.

Adjacent to the stage a roadie (who looks to have many years of roadie wisdom under his ((tool)belt) is coolly and efficiently dismantling a piece of equipment. He solders while BEAK> look on somewhat anxiously. In the end they are only delayed by five minutes or so, and when Matt Williams (also known as Team Brick) finally gets on stage, they begin.

Williams and Billy Fuller (also of Fuzz Against Junk) begin to fiddle with their instruments, then Barrow kicks a NEU!-style motorik drumbeat into action. There’s something about that particular rhythm that has an odd effect on music fans of a certain persuasion, symptoms normally being that of beaming from ear-to-ear, and/or an intense nodding of the head.

Their set is a joy from start to finish, the most successful moments being when things get heavy, as on ‘Ham Green', with Fuller letting loose mind-vibrating fuzz-bass drones: a blissful all encompassing thing. To anyone with a familiarity of their self-titled debut, the most interesting parts are when the improvisational nature of their music comes to the fore.

BEAK> conclude with ‘Battery Point', full of delay-ridden guitars and muttered echoic vocals. It leaves one floating into the ether, elevated, ecstatic.