Live Review: Tomahawk & Jay Katz

There was no doubt we were in for a treat one song into Jay Katz's set, when a disgruntled audience member incredulously shouted out, “What the fuck is this?” He might've been confused by Katz's experimental blend of The Beatles' Hey Jude with synth undertones, followed by two other songs that had Katz gesticulating wildly with thespian airs and gyrating atop the audience barrier. All done with minimalist electronic screechings and drum samples, Katz was all consuming theatre, though the audience's confused smattering of applause upon end suggested otherwise. As he stepped off stage the same audience member could be heard uttering, “What the fuck was that?”

It's not often someone out-crazies frontman Mike Patton, but comparative to that intro, Tomahawk were positively straightforward rock. Of course, that would still feature Patton's manic vocal range, driven through modulators, married to his bulging eyes and sly grin that seemed to suggest that he would accept nothing less than chaos from the sold-out Metro crowd. As the band assailed our ears with screams, grinding guitar riffs and throbbing bass, what one could truly admire was how tight Tomahawk remain. Considering their sporadic live history and the short turnaround on recorded material, they would've had reason to sound rusty. But whether pounding through the sinister slow build of Stone Letter, or slowing the tempo to sensual with I.O.U, they leapt through the bizarre time signatures and key changes of every song with a tautness that cannot be faulted. Their comradery was heartwarming; Patton cracking jokes with guitarist Duane Denison, as the latter would play over Patton's more questionable audience interactions.

Opening the encore with God Hates A Coward saw limbs flung in all directions, but it wouldn't be a Tomahawk show without a curveball and, after a languid cover of George Jones' country hit Just One More, the audience was left grinning and mellow.