This past Wednesday night I found myself traipsing past the capital in my combat boots and plaid to see the post-punk queen Jehnny Beth and her band, Savages, play at the High Noon Saloon. The London-based band formed in 2011, but their debut album Silence Yourself didn’t drop until 2013. It was positively received, reaching number 19 in the UK Albums Chart this past spring. I had no idea where I was going or just what exactly Savages were about, but as I crossed the venue’s threshold I felt a charge of excitement run through me. “This is going to be rad,” I thought.
The High Noon Saloon has long been a Madison classic, providing an intimate and alternative environment for quality bands. The low lighting, dark paneled wood and excellent beer selection quickly prepared me for a different crowd than I’m used to on the UW campus. I was by no means disappointed. Hipsters ranging from their mid-twenties to early fifties milled about with drinks in hand while the opener, Duke Garwood, strummed out rustic rock in great contrast to what was to follow. As he filed offstage the audience moved closer to the front, sporadically glancing up, anxious for the real rock and roll to begin.
As their online manifesto states, Savages aim to reconnect their audience to the physical and emotional self, providing music that’s straight-to-the-point, efficient and exciting. The fact that their website even has a manifesto should indicate that these four women are not here to fuck around. Dressed in all black, they marched on stage and began playing one of their album’s most beloved tracks, “I Am Here.” Message received. Jehnny Beth’s visceral energy and sharp dance moves captivated an eager audience. With statements like “hit me with your hands”— a lyric from their song “Hit Me”— it wasn’t long before a mosh pit erupted from the center of the crowd. Savages certainly don’t shy away from controversy, and many of their songs explore female sexuality with underlying tones of pleasure, pain and aggression.
Jehny Beth is a punk poet with a very distinct message. Throughout the night she performed deliberately to the crowd, shouting, whispering and weaving her words into a raw ballad. Yet despite these powers of intimidation, she also wasn’t afraid to crack a smile, make a joke and engage the audience in a more relaxed way. As they prepared to perform their song, “Fuckers,” she asked the audience to scream out things falling in that category. Amidst the shouts of Reagan and Michigan State, she questioned one in particular, “Wait, your mother? All right.” The band commenced the nearly seven-minute rendition of the song, including an awesome drum solo by Fay Milton, before Jehnny Beth called out, “This will be out last song.” The audience waited and asked for more, but women of their word, the stage remained empty. They had been heard and that was enough.
