Ist Ist at 229, London (Live Review)
- Published in Live
Ist Ist
229
Words & Pics by Captain Stavros
When the Floor Turns Red and the Lights Turn Blue
Once again, we find ourselves at 229’s tall stage and tall ceilings a few minutes before the headliner; cloudy cider in hand, hooked on the stuff since childhood, don’t judge. It’s rained all the way here but, soon enough, Ist Ist would reign supreme within these waterlogged walls. A thundering crash snaps our ears to attention, vibrations rising through our soles, instinct tugging us from phone screen to drum kit. Except… the stage is still empty.
Bukowski once said, “it began as a mistake.” He was talking about a dead-end post-office job, but tonight someone’s miscalculated blood sugar and collapsed directly behind us. The scene unfolds like the opera moment in The Talented Mr. Ripley; a fan of red-red-groovy spreading across the floor beneath what used to be the straight line of the man’s nose. We duck down, take a pulse, find a beat, roll him into the recovery position, and snag a chair as he blinks back into consciousness. A crowd forms; once he’s upright, we split. One of the most intense starts to a gig in recent memory, but it wouldn’t do Ist Ist any justice to let that overshadow the music.
Ironically, a few moments later they launch straight into ‘I Am The Fear’. You truly can’t make this shit up. There’s a strong NIN influence lurking in the machinery, but Adam Houghton’s baritone is pure Interpol. They follow with ‘Something Else’ off Light A Bigger Fire. The vocals remain clean and commanding throughout, but the instruments feel a bit anaemic, whether that’s the venue, the mix, or intentional minimalism is anyone’s guess. When Houghton sings “let’s go home and wait out the storm” it feels painfully accurate for this soaked-through London night. Unpredictable beats meet controlled monotone, like walking in slow-motion while the background runs on double-speed.
Having caught this lot a few years back at Omeara, the only real change is that the fog isn’t from a machine this time, it’s from Adam’s vape pen, and much more subdued. The die-hards remain, though: lyrics shouted back, fists punching the air, and, just like last time, everyone hitting the merch table and immediately changing into their freshly bought shirts. The band themselves have evolved aesthetically from Casual Friday to full black-leather jacketed graduation: Chelsea boots, Ray-Bans, the works. A sharper silhouette for a sharper band.
About halfway in, we get a new one: ‘I Remember Everything’, a preview from their February release. It slots neatly into their formula; brooding, industrial-tinged, tightly wound.
You cannot accuse Ist Ist of slacking. Their fifth self-released album is as technically solid as anything they’ve done. They’ve hit gold with a formula and stuck to it, but hard work and consistent output aren’t always the recipe for evolution. In 1874, as photography took off for its speed and accuracy, painters found themselves at a crossroads: keep competing with the camera, or peel off the shackles of realism and try something wilder. The Impressionists chose the latter. We’re not saying Ist Ist should go full Yoko, but a bit of Radiohead-on-OK-Computer ambition wouldn’t hurt. Let the freak flag flutter at least.
They close (for us, and quite a few others slinking out before the gig finishes) with ‘Emily’, a track we’ve had on heavy rotation since the Live album. The bass roll around the three-minute mark, right as “Emily, we’re sick of crying over you” comes in, lands with the same gut-pull as ever, and provides the perfect moment to make our exit. Clearly we weren’t alone; people filtered out like the end of a food challenge where the taste buds finally give up around burger thirteen. Great catalogue, but a one-hour-plus set with little variation started to wear us down.
On the way out we spot our type-2 casualty (what a trooper!) plugging his nose with tissues, rocking his head back and forth gently in his chair; hopefully to the beat, not drifting between this realm and the next. Ist Ist are touring next month. You should check ’em out. But maybe do a first-aid course before you do.
