industrial gothic electronic
September 25, 2007 |

WGT review

There’s a great review of the Wave Gothic Treff show at Nemesis To Go

There’s one more band to go. The headliners are due on stage any minute. Suddenly, a backdrop of LEDs blazes into life, as if someone’s tapped a vein of raw electricity. Shadowy figures take up instruments. This is Cassandra Complex, a band with a convoluted past that goes back to the 80s in the UK, and a slightly more recent status as alternative rock heroes in Germany. Like many bands with a lengthy history, Cassandra Complex have gone through many line-up changes and periods of not-doing-much, or only-doing-stuff-in-the-Continenal-scene, to the point where the band’s UK profile has in recent years barely risen above earthworm level. Significantly, while several Cassandra Complex pages exist in various international editions of Wikipedia, the English-language entry is brief, basic – and written in the past tense. Here at the WGT, however, the band members – the original line-up, no less – are hailed as conquering heroes as they emerge from the shadows, with main man Rodney Orpheus recieving his own ovation. And it doesn’t let up from that point forward. The band crank it like good ‘uns, kicking up a driving, thunderous, rhythmic onslaught that sweeps all before it. Curiously, given that in certain quarters Cassandra Complex are hailed as pioneers of EBM, it’s unashamedly guitar-driven music (just in case we haven’t twigged, the guitarist demonstrates a fine repertoire of plank-hero postures throughout the set) that tips its hat to ye olde rock ‘n’ roll even as it eats the big dancefloor beat. Rodney Orpheus himself is obviously revelling in the experience – fronting a pounding behemoth of a band, before a crowd of cheering fans – well, it’s better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick, innit? Unashamedly milking the adulation, he strikes messiah poses that would seem downright Spinal Tap-ish were it not for the big grin on his face. He even indulges in some quality crowd surfing, trusting the fans to bear him off into the hinterland of the audience and then return him stagewards just in time for the chorus. It all fits, and it all works: the celebratory atmosphere, the ever-shifting LED array strobing over everything, and the beat that just doesn’t quit – if ever there was a situation where all the threads are pulled together into a glorious whole, we’re witnessing it now.

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