MONO are a band of patience and extremes. Of lights and darks. The Tokyo four-piece carefully raises and razes instrumental compositions. To call them post-rock falls short. MONO's rock is more petrified, volcanic, or basalt. They plant worlds. Movements pan from jet-engine volumes to pin-pricked quiet. Glaciers are formed for a thousand years, then melted with a mammoth blowtorch within a single song. Pterodactyls battle, then mate in the updrafts. Going inside, MONO render at the cellular level. The curve of the earth becomes the curve of a nucleus for their protozoa requiem. Guitarists Yoda and Takaakira Goto flank the stage, shearing and sewing decibel threads. Bassist Tamaki Kunishi ceremonially guides trances out of her instrument-weapon. Drummer Yasunori Takadan conducts the range solemnly. MONO's precision comes from practice. Since their inception in 1999, they've averaged 150 shows a year in North America, Europe, and Asia. Their fifth and sixth full-lengths, Hymn to the Immortal Wind and For My Parents, were recorded with orchestras in tow. For me, MONO means Magnum Onslaught Neural Opus. What's the plural of opus? They have more than one. Guitarist Takaakira Goto spoke from New York. They had just arrived from Tokyo. He was very jet-lagged.
And here's all our recommended music events—tonight, tomorrow, this weekend, and beyond!