bang Magazine feature, 2003 approximately

Shut up and listen to...
Lapsus Linguae

Consider the Catholic idea of redemption. A tribe in a remote part of the world, untouched by proper civilisation and with quaint notions of nature-worship, will survive the wrath of Jesus and his dad because they haven’t actually shunned Catholicism. But once the missionaries get in there and attempt to educate these savages in the righteous ways of the Lord, the path converges between saint and sinner. Convert or be damned.

Similarly, if you haven’t heard Lapsus Linguae’s abrasive take on classical piano music, the Glaswegian fourpiece will be far less likely to call you a cunt than if you choose to ignore their message and natter throughout their carefully crafted set.

Sitting in the band’s transit van, Magaloof Taylor (keys, vox, bass) explains, “if I came to see my band I would shut the fuck up and I would stand and watch.” Just shortly before tonight’s little chat, Lapsus’ London show was plagued by the aforementioned natterers, whose attention began to wander each time the band’s violent guitars gave way to another beautiful piano section. “I’m not saying people can’t go for a piss but I wouldn’t talk about going down the dogs or what the football score is,” Magaloof continues. “I would shut my face. I would look at what was going on and take it all in.”

And truly there is a lot to take in. Musically Lapsus switch between time signatures and dynamics with meticulous ability, something akin to The Cardiacs on tour in Hell, and their set is awash with sickening samples, gut-wrenching guitars and sweeping classical piano. Visually the band is even more aggressive; dressed in tight leather keks and sweaty black T-shirts, Magaloof and Penelope Collegefriend (keys, vox, guitar) throw each other and guitarist/bassist Gunthor Hunter into the air, spitting where they fall. And yet each note is played with deft perfection, never a beat missed.

Magaloof: “It’s a way of drawing people in. If you see a fight break out in a club you tend to watch it.” Penelope, whose Aunt recently witnessed the Lapsus live phenomenon, spouts, “every time she sees me she’s like, ‘have you got rid of the guitar yet? I really like the piano. You’re not jumping in the audience still are you?’.” He pauses. “Well, it’s what <i>I’d</i> want to see. I quite enjoy antagonising people. In the back of my head I know why we do things that way and there’s a lot I could say about it, but yeah, I enjoy calling people cunts. You’ve got a lot of immunity when you’re behind a set of monitors. If you called someone a cunt in the street they might start a fight with you.”

But Lapsus Linguae aren’t just a bunch of antagonistic morons who want to annoy their way into popularity (like The Offspring or The Cheeky Girls). Sure, they make people suffer for their art, but it all comes down to the band’s immense sense of confidence in what they do.

“I’ve sat and been quite hard with myself about whether we provide something completely different,” Penelope considers, “and I think we do. I’ve genuine contempt for people who don’t bother to listen to what we’re doing. They’re a bunch of cunts.” He laughs, adding, “We don’t always call them cunts. I’ve actually tried to work the profanity out of what I’m saying and keep the confrontational aspect and the aggression without actually... erm...” “Calling them cunts,” finishes Magaloof with relish.

Hold up a sec. Bang has the awful feeling that we’re leading you, dear reader, in the wrong direction somewhat. See, there’s no question that much of Lapsus Linguae’s appeal lies in their torturous live show, but a good deal more is to be found in their intricate and expansive blend of post-rock, metal and classical genres, as evidenced in 2002’s superb Fierce Panda mini-album ‘You Got Me Fraiche’.

Magaloof reckons it’s all down to perception: “They way that people perceive classical music is quite one-dimensional. You go and see the Scottish National Orchestra; you’ll see them in a really bright room, the conductor will come on in a top hat and tails and you’ll have to clap. A lot of people, they think, ‘I’ve got nothing to do with that, it’s not a situation I feel comfortable in’.” He pauses to fasten the safety pin which has popped open in his pierced lip, nearly gouging a hole in his tongue, and then continues: ”In Scotland there are people that are having a go at putting a new face on classical music and do it in different venues, playing in clubs.”

Lapsus Linguae are currently in the process of setting up a label and getting funding to record their first full LP with Arab Strap producer Jeff Allen. Penelope froths, “a lot of stuff on ‘You Got Me Fraiche’ had quite interesting song structures but was reliant on repetition and having a series of sections. There’s going to be less strands happening at any one time [on the new album]. We’ve got kind of a fugal thing happening now where there’s five or six themes or motifs in a song and they’ll reappear throughout the song in different ways. It’s gonna be less extensive and more focused.”

The countdown starts here, reader. It’s not about good and evil, nor Heaven and Hell; it’s about believers and non-believers. Better make sure you’re on the right side come judgement day. And for God’s sake, keep your voice down.

Daniel Robson

www.LapsusLinguae.co.uk

Lapsus Linguae embark on a mini-tour at the end of July