A UNIFORMED OFFICER of the Salvation Army sitting next to me on the tube quivered nervously and broke into a cold sweat as the train rumbled with an unflinching certainty towards Camden, Dingwalls and Abwärts' first UK gig.
Earlier that evening, I’d seen Abwärts' resident percussionist/synthist Mufti stun a Venue crowd. During fellow Hamburgers X-Mal Deutschland’s knock-out set he’d jumped onstage to perform a brief but dazzling sticks frenzy. Afterwards, the super stocky human dynamo ran back to Camden to settle behind a drum kit and, in partnership with Axel Dill, create a demonic drum stampede of epic proportions.
In front of this thump-happy pair, guitarist/singer Frank Z and bassist Marc Chung (can you believe he was born in Leeds?) stare into the audience with an intense and uncompromising glare.
Abwärts are always on the offensive, single-mindedly hammering home their points. Visually, they are striking and sinister. Unlike many a British compo, they don’t glance anxiously around for approval.
From my vantage point close to the ladies toilet, I observed a few punters with hands cupped over their ears. It must be admitted that Abwärts are not afraid of a kilowatt or two yet the volume is not misused. It becomes a kind of threat, a demand that either you listen or you runaway.
My only previously viewing of this group was a few months back when their open-throttle sound surges raced through the wide space of (if you’ll excuse the town dropping) Hamburg’s Markthalle. In the tighter confines of Dingwalls, they seem to seep into the fixtures, injecting their kamikaze nihilism into the walls and floors to leave invisible fractures in the roof-supporting pillars.
Consequently, the next time a burger-scoffing oaf stumbles into one during a set by the Texan All-Star Redneck Boogie Band, the structure will give way and the whole building tumble to the ground.
That friends, is the Abwärts effect.
