Show Notes: Sunn O))) at Union Transfer, 4/11/26
The sermon on the LOUD…
Saturday evening, 4/11, maybe around 8:30, I’m at Union Transfer to see Sunn O))) perform. I’m standing on a raised landing, leaning against a wall, a newly acquired tour shirt draped over my right shoulder and a copy of the duo’s latest self-titled LP tucked under my left arm. My view will be obscured by denim-clad shoulders, voluminous hair, fully-lit iPhones screens, and audience members blessed with legs considerably longer than mine. Over the PA is the audio from a famous Venom gig, recorded in 1986 at City Gardens, NJ. Set above the stacks of amps that will be delivering unto us a decibel-laden service very soon are stage lights set to react colorfully to Venom’s quick drum fills. I always think of Check Your Head by Beastie Boys when I hear this recording; the “‘Cuz you’re wild, man!!! WILD!!!” cut featured as a sample on the album.
While Venom “performs,” the smoke machines exhale. Billowing and thick, the stage is more or less enveloped from view by the time Sunn O)))’s Stephen O’Malley and Greg Anderson take the stage, the ceremonial garbs looking appropriately heavy as if the fabric’s weight could potentially compete with the volume of the music this packed venue would be confronted by shortly.
O’Malley and Anderson stand with guitars in hand and bring their arms down in unison like cataclysmic windmills, emitting shockwaves. We are a congregation: our eyes affixed to Sunn O)))’s slow and studied presentation while our femurs crack and our spines are slowly shaken out of alignment.
The lights are vivid and changing, bathing the band’s enrobed figures in deep shades of red, green, and blue while they generate charred blankets of deep rumbling sound and quivering high-frequency screams. The band presents their six-stringed oscillating instruments to the heavens while gazing upward, only to bring their guitars down and deploy further deafening sonic testaments. We stand in awe. So engrossed are we in this ceremonial display that the bright emergency lights, quick strobes breaking through the shadows likely set off by the smoke, barely earn a response or lead us to recognize the possibility that we’re all potentially in danger.
(The lights did eventually stop. We were fine.)
There is one pause, and then more prayers from the set list are “read” aloud. While the venue’s structural integrity is tested some more, hands from the crowd breach the horizon line, attempting to feel the sound like wind from the open window of a moving car.
As the droning begins to flatline, O’Malley and Anderson stand and raise their hands while applause cracks through the hum. The light becomes glorious, the band’s silhouettes framed by smoke. Soaking in the last minute or so of this colossus we witnessed, the amps become quiet, and an appreciative response from the audience attempts to match Sunn O)))’s intensity. Still wrapped in their ceremonial garb, the duo express their gratitude to the crowd and hug each other before leaving the stage.
I make a note to take Aleve before bedtime and make my way to the venue exit.
Sincerely,
Letters From A Tapehead
