Calgary post-punk-noise mainstays Dri Hiev played a late Friday night (October 7) set in support of their third EP, Place to Live. The crowd, trapped in the dimness of the room, was enthralled for the entirety of their short, aggressive, 35-minute, drone-drenched performance. The chaotic gloom of the swirling synths, staticky guitars and relentless pounding of the drum machine came together in an intense swarm, rarely with distinct cohesion — but that was the point. Dri Hiev wanted to make the audience feel uncomfortable.
Vocalist Carter Crough yelped and screeched into the mic, cord wrapped around his neck, Crough wandering around like a resentful ghost. At one point, he rolled onto the dirty floor and crawled underneath the stage to perform an entire song from his adopted cave without missing a beat, while the rest of the four-piece band continued to chug along.
Dri Hiev's show was harsh and dissonant, yet also oddly danceable, in a sinister way. Their live performance of gritty, mechanical noise was fascinating to witness even though it might be off-putting to some. The show ended with Crough getting undressed to his skivvies and getting partially redressed before walking out the door into Edmonton's first snowfall of the winter.
Vocalist Carter Crough yelped and screeched into the mic, cord wrapped around his neck, Crough wandering around like a resentful ghost. At one point, he rolled onto the dirty floor and crawled underneath the stage to perform an entire song from his adopted cave without missing a beat, while the rest of the four-piece band continued to chug along.
Dri Hiev's show was harsh and dissonant, yet also oddly danceable, in a sinister way. Their live performance of gritty, mechanical noise was fascinating to witness even though it might be off-putting to some. The show ended with Crough getting undressed to his skivvies and getting partially redressed before walking out the door into Edmonton's first snowfall of the winter.
