Two nights earlier, Gary “Mani” Mounfield, a fixture of the early 90s U.K. scene who played with The Stone Roses and Primal Scream, died at age 63, the median age of MBV’s membership. During the show, Shields takes one of his few two-sentence banter breaks to dedicate the night to Mani’s memory. It’s a funereal tinge to an otherwise vigorous set. Despite physically aging — gracefully, yet undeniably — as humans do, MBV’s music and musicianship remains timeless. After a terrifically gauzy dream-pop set from Dublin’s own Maria Somerville, MBV casually strut onstage to cordially enthusiastic claps and cheers. Given the band’s reputation for sending onlookers dashing out of venues with their ears plugged, and for delivering physical gusts of noise into the chests of those who dare to remain, we’re all anticipating the scale of sensory obliteration that will rumble this cavernous arena.
At first, the volume isn’t abnormally throttling, but as the set crescendos in intensity, the decibels creep higher and higher. MBV kick off with a couple Loveless classics, “I Only Said” and “When You Sleep,” and the most striking feature is just how hard those songs groove. MBV are known for Shields’ guitar heroics and for his and Bilinda Butcher’s phantasmically muted coos, but drummer Colm Ó Cíosóig and bassist Debbie Googe are also pivotal to how these songs resonate.