Live Review: Slowest Runner and Caspian at TT the Bear's

Last Saturday, we had the pleasure of not being confronted with snow or rain (though we were confronted by a rude driver who tried to kill us but at least thoughtfully honked regarding our impending death; if you read this, jerk driver, that middle finger was well deserved) as we made our way to Central Square for a rock show. While obtaining money from the ATM across the street from the Middle East and TT's, we were also not confronted with anything but the dim glow of the ATM: a welcome contrast to unexpectedly sordid ATM incidents of TT's visits past (no further comment). But once we entered the venue, we were confronted with a wall of bodies and a wall of sound, as Slowest Runner (In All the World) slashed all traces of silence in Cambridge with stunning breaths of guitar work. We were not, however, confronted with vocals, and the absence of words was refreshing.

Slowest Runner (pictured, blurrily, to the right) is a Brooklyn band with dual NYC and Montreal roots. The group's multinational origins reflect diverse musical influences that alternately clash and blend in layered sound. Calling themselves "instrumental post-baroque," the various members attack instruments to force out noises that balanced the beautiful with the experimental, blanketing their surroundings in melody and bringing smiles to the faces of their fans. The show didn't feel like a plodding, slow workout, but rather touched on a feeling like a runner's high: the showgoer's high you get when the band is in perfect sync, racing toward sonic victory and sweeping you along with it.

Caspian, a "post-rock" group from Beverly, amped up Slowest Runner's subdued sounds with a slightly harder edge, coaxing guitars into bleeding wails and bold screams. The band's volcanic live show belies its more delicate recorded work, but provided a welcome, if intense, contrast. Near the end of the set, Caspian threw five folks on drums, leaving one lone guitarist. The seismic sound shifts remained as intense as ever, underlining the band's dramatic yet solid foundation.

Caspian frontman Philip Jamieson has compared the group's songwriting process to "being swept up into a storm"; we'd say the live show has a similarly gripping effect. Prepare to find broken branches in your brain the morning after a Caspian event.

The show was actually a release party for Hadoken's new EP Luminary, so we're sort of embarrassed to admit that our advanced age and T dependency forced us to leave before having the opportunity to appreciate Hadoken. With opening bands of this quality, though, we can only imagine that the group completely killed. Keep your eye on all three of these acts, which seem capable of leading a breakthrough that will revolutionize this indiebopper age.