The crowd formed in a wide semi-circle around Slash Need, held at a distance by the volcanic presence of the singer Dusty Lee. They walked on hot coals at the edge of the periphery, holding with wide eyes the dumbfounded stare of the audience. Behind them, what looked like a mad scientist (Alex Low) with aviator glasses was turning the knobs on screeching filters, which turned acid basses into growling animals. It was a primordial whole, combining sensuality and anger not only through their music, but also in their daring attire and performance. One of the members walked through the crowd with flashlights and a stocking over their head, blinding the phone cameras and enclosing us in the moment. It was clear there was no escape. A sample rang out after their first song: “you came here to have fun, to dance? Well those were the last guys.”
It was a much-needed reminder that music doesn’t only serve to entertain or to sell. Slash Need is the opposite of an anesthetic; they are what they say. And in a world of aesthetics where identity is trivially displayed, they carry the torch of bands like Suicide or Pussy Riot, who turned their backs on likability to make something real. Just because, why not?
Despite being combatant, their performance was welcoming to the body’s physicality. Everyone was dancing, at least to some degree, over the contagious sequenced basslines and drum machine rhythms. Between this and the lyrics literally screaming to “feel your body”, the entire experience amounted to a grounding sense of self. In the end, the message was quite positive. Behind a violent delivery was a tender care for the audience, in the desire to remove them from the mind’s cage.
