Godspeed You! Black Emperor

It’s not uncommon for me to lament an old band’s preference for new material at a live show, and while tonight’s set list was dominated by songs from NO TITLE AS OF 13 FEBRUARY 2024 28,340 DEAD, and I do find that album to be something of a rote exercise, that wasn’t the only reason I left early. Even in this grim geopolitical moment, Godspeed’s brand of all-consuming pessimism somehow feels to me more naive than ever. The cynicism of my early adulthood, shaped in part by Godspeed and other punk rock killjoys, was no less unflattering than the Trump-addled cynicism of my middle age, but if nothing else, my current outlook is more informed. I’m not sure I can say the same about Godspeed’s, and however helpless I feel about all the terrible things happening in the world right now, their music isn’t helping me cope as it once did.

This show, postponed due to illness, was originally supposed to happen back in November, and I bought tickets mainly because Alan Sparhawk was opening. He wasn’t on the rescheduled tour, which was disappointing, but it must be said that Marisa Anderson was a fine replacement.