Review: Giant Swan: Do Not Be Afraid Of Tenderness
As a proud Bristolian, I’ll come across as biased when projecting that the electronic music coming out of this city is the most exciting there is. Some view Bristol as resting on its musical laurels reclining on the legacy of trip hop, the amalgamation of dub and hip hop, forged by the likes of Massive Attack in the 90s. What at the time was a revolutionary shift in sound has become synonymous to the city, to the point where its legacy can obscure the avant-garde works in its wake.
Works coming from some of today’s established electronic musicians are still influenced by the city’s reggae sound system heritage, instead marrying that sound with hard core punk. This cross pollination of sounds bears a form of industrial techno music, with the dilated bass of a sound system and tightening grip of heavy punk, which restricts and swells with an encompassing turbulence.
Such a combination can be seen in the home-grown duo Giant Swan, who came from the city’s equally strong post punk scene, home to the likes of Idles who themselves are reaching out to the extremities of their genre. Previously guitarists in the band The Naturals, Robin Stewart and Harry Wright of Giant Swan used their pedalboards and vocal loops to experiment with drone music, before incorporating a drum machine. “Drone, in music, is a sustained tone, usually rather low in pitch, providing a sonorous foundation for a melody sounding at a higher pitch level.” An ancient unfurling sound you can lean into, Giant Swan still use low churning tones as an undercurrent in their works which they inundate with heavy sound system bass and a metallic surface tension to create a truly unique form of dance music.
I was first introduced to the duo through their single 55 Year Old Daughter, which off the bat embodies this urgent energy. The song changed when I saw it live, my body pressed against strangers’, surging and compacting as one. Their intensely energetic live performances are a dialogue with the audience, allowing tracks to expand beyond their minutes. So much so that their discography, to me, is now reminiscent of crowd comradery, spilled pints, smoking areas and ringing ears.
At a time when such experiences are not accessible, in the stillness of isolation, the cacophony of noise music can feel overwhelming. Life too can be overwhelming and perhaps it is advantageous to have a soundtrack to such chaos. Within Bristol we’re lucky to possess a wide ranging community of noise musicians, gathered under the crew label ‘Avon Terror Corps’. Having strength in numbers, the collective containing Bokeh Versions, Giant Swan, Noods Radio, and Plaque to name a few are able to release heavy compilations to propagate the underbelly of West Country techno. The proceeds from the release of their album ‘Avon Garde’ last year raised money for charities supporting those experiencing or at risk of homelessness in the county.
Giant Swan’s latest EP ‘Do Not Be Afraid of Tenderness’ was released on their own label, Keck. The opening track Silkworm feels like a direct affront against ongoing restrictions working up into a feverish dance track, one that I am itching to hear live. Followed by DYFLGOT which angrily storms to an almost halt before title track Do Not Be Afraid of Tenderness reaches back out to the extremities, rendering what has come before. Its three tracks continue to contort any expectations of industrial techno. I hold steadfast in my belief that such Bristolian artists are the vanguards of electronic music. Even if I am a bit biased.
Giant Swan '55 Year Old Daughter' - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V49791v5rBI
Do not Be Afraid Of Tenderness- https://giantswan.bandcamp.com/album/do-not-be-afraid-of-tenderness
Written by Ella Hambly
I’m a Bristolian junior tv researcher who has a passion for local cultures, previously having been a tour guide on the city’s ferries.