Four is great, less is even better

You’ll never get me to stop talking about the time I saw Lightning Bolt. 

Before the Providence-based noise rock duo went onstage, the stage layout itself was surprisingly sparse. Large sound systems and speakers stood tall behind a decorated drum set, littered with colorful stickers and intricately messy paper collages taped on each part of the drum. 

A guy — around his 30’s — approached me, warning me that Lightning Bolt’s set would get loud, after noticing I was not wearing earplugs. He then offered to grab me the free earplugs Royale were handing out for the sake of my hearing. Needless to say, he certainly made the right call. 

Drummer and vocalist Brian Chippendale comes out on stage, placing a handmade mask over his face, containing miscellaneous pieces of fabric messily stitched together. It sat loosely fitted on top of Chippendale’s head, on the verge of falling apart but still remaining intact. An important feature on the mask is an embedded pocket in front of Chippendale’s mouth, where he inserted a small contact microphone inside of it. The missing piece comes into play when bassist Brian Gibson walks out with his customized bass, consisting of three bass strings and two guitar strings.  

The volume was blaring after jumping into their first set — Gibson’s playing ferociously shook the entire venue, while Chippendale enraged on drums. Chippendale loudly mutters, sputters and bumbles into the contact mic while pounding on the toms, snares and bass drum. 

When the duo took intermission, the most memorable anecdote Chippendale sputtered was reeling an inanimate object in, pulling an imaginary rope. The duo played “Dead Cowboy” for their set closer, embodying the band’s distinctly rowdy and undoubtedly heavy sound. 

That night changed how I perceived bands containing less than four people regarding creative potential, especially in the case of Lightning Bolt. Their crafty presence — with the customized mask and instruments — while delivering some of the heaviest, raucous sounds and frantic drum playing is something I don’t think any other band can replicate. Lightning Bolt has been active for nearly three decades, drumming up incongruous sounds and loud volumes since 1994. It’s more impressive considering this is the result of two people.

Lightning Bolt has recently made me reflect on contemporary duos and trios who are active or are beginning to leave their mark, ultimately excelling the idea that the fewer people in a band, the more opportunity bands have in experimenting with their music and appearance. The White Stripes’ classic anthemic garage rock, noisemakers Japandroids youthful and distortion-cranked anthems, the Spinanes’ stripped-back and minimalistic indie rock — this energetic music was all made by bands composed of duos. 

Even without percussive instruments in the mix, string instruments can still maintain a tempo. I think of Beijing experimental rock duo, Gong Gong Gong, where the bass primarily does all the work in constructing rhythms. Joshua Frank’s bass plays gallops and ricochets, with Frank aggressively hitting his strings, allowing the clunky plucking pattern to become a central part of their compositions. Guitarist and vocalist, Tom Ng, melodically plays over Frank's percussion, playing with the repetitious grooves Frank establishes. 

Trios also have great inclusions in musical conversation, especially in those whose sound is angular and fractured. London post-rock trio, Still House Plants, is a recent example of whose work I love but is intentionally difficult to pin down. The trio meticulously moves in many directions in their music; an amalgamation of soulful singing, flickering textures, looping rhythms and ever changing tempos, the band works on a part-deconstructed, part-constructed regiment. By design and choice, their cohesively fragmented song structures and playing make you ultimately wonder how they pulled it off. 

With bands only consisting of two to three people, the immediate assumption is that the music is more “low-key,” and that a lot won’t happen, which is simply not true. Minimalistic approaches in the constructions of songs are undoubtedly present, but leave bands to explore infinite avenues in their music. Experimenting with odd sounds and textures, playing with rhythm and time signatures and fiddling with what instruments can and cannot do, allow the result to be viscerally engaging, detail-oriented and overall intriguing to listen to.  

Less is more, especially when you have two or three people who can conjure up massive sounds with limited resources in hand. With that being said, less can be exciting, too.