Meute Live - The O2 Ritz Manchester

Words by Tom F-H

What is the first thing that comes to mind when I say the words: “techno marching band.”

Last week I was invited to attend an event - that was described to me as the above statement – at the O2 Ritz Manchester. As well as being widely intrigued at the existence of the fusion between brass and techno, the Ritz holds a special place in my heart: I worked there as general bar staff for over two years before the pandemic, and I got to see shows from artists of all shapes and sizes. Apart from these things, I really had nothing to go off. The plan was to meet for a drink an hour before and go from there.

I have taken to walking about Manchester a lot, as the last sunbeams of summer lit up my favourite city for a prologue to the darker and colder months soon to follow. Despite this, light rain and my poor decision to avoid a jacket meant that by the time I reached Whitworth Street I was a bit more damp than was desirable. Standing in the archway of one of Manchester’s railway bridges, I watched crew dipping in and out of the tour bus: I was half an hour late, but the slowly deepening sky and warm breeze made people-watching a very calming and comfortable experience as my hair dried off.

About ten minutes before I was due to meet my friend Danny, a car pulled up, and out of which stepped my current boss, which was a funny surprise. We stepped into bar number one – Dogbowl – only to be greeted by several other friendly faces. After saying hi and laughing at the fact I am slowly becoming too familiar with certain bars around the city centre, me and my friend stepped into Gorilla – full of more friendly faces – and watched the line outside the Ritz slowly grow. Whitworth Street West is slightly out of the way of the bigger, shinier buildings, but I think that I have made some of my favourite memories in that small area, and that the Ritz, Gorilla and Dogbowl might be some of the friendliest, safest and most pleasant social buildings in one of the best cities in the country for social nights out.

There is something about the smell of old venues; the musk of spilled alcohol and decade old walls painted by smoke machines – it is just different compared to more modern places. You can almost taste the history: we were about to watch a German brass band, fusing techno with a marching style, play on the same stage which had boasted The Beatles countless years prior. I immediately ran into a few people I knew from my bar staff days and did a short round of the bars - which were busy and active – to wave at some friends who I hadn’t seen in nearly two years due to the pandemic. It was a surreal experience to be back, after so long, in a place which had been so important to my life for a good chunk of my university career. Seeing my old friends going about their work with as much energy as I had pictured beforehand was a lovely reminder that I was in the right place once again.

We settled on the balcony bar as I had wanted to get a good look at the stage setup, and we grabbed a drink just as the support act was finishing up. This was unfortunate as the singer and DJ combo had seemed like a fun warm-up from the brief bit we caught of their last couple of songs.

Something else I noticed about the bars is that they now supply disposable face masks in easily accessible locations which is another level of benefit towards everyone’s health and safety, along with the constant sanitation that most service staff now need to do. I never felt unsafe being in the crowd, it almost felt normal again, but with the uncertainty of the lateral flow test results, and after not being in a large crowd for a long time, I can understand why many people would be concerned about attending such events. The staff made me feel safe and attended to, and the crowd were in great spirits. When the lights dimmed and the music started, the cheers and cries of pent-up excitement gave me chills.

Large, industrial strobes shone in increasing intensity as, one by one, the members of Meute marched onstage. As well as the brass section, Meute featured three rhythm players – one with a large bass drum, two with small, mobile drum kits strapped to their fronts, complete with toms and cymbals. Another surprise came when the final member emerged with an entire wooden marimba fitted to a harness like the drummers. The crowd cheered at each reveal, and I was really pleasantly surprised at the energy and responsiveness of the crowd. Perhaps it was due to the fact I hadn’t been to see live music - on a small or large scale – for over a year, that every time the mass of people around us raised their voices, it was as if a wave of emotion had soared around the venue collecting up all the joy and positivity, only to hit me right in the chest.

The German word ‘Meute’ sounds phonetically like the English word ‘mute’, and this is what I originally thought the translation had meant, as it would be ironic since they were playing music. Or perhaps it was because they weren’t going to speak, and instead would allow their instruments to tell a story for them. Later however, I actually took a second to look it up and learned that it means a ‘pack’ or ‘mob’. This, obviously, is appropriate, as the 11-piece ensemble danced and played around each other like a coordinated team of wolves. The first track they performed featured builds and drops and repetitive motifs like any electronic piece might. Each instrument kept obediently to their domain. There were no edgy guitarists here; eager to prove themselves, no overplaying rock drummers or egotistical vocalists – not that I think any of these things are particularly bad. If one member’s job was to hit the bass drum once on every beat, that is exactly what he would do, for the whole song. Honing into one individual instrument might make the performance seem simple, but it is was these building blocks that were required to be perfectly in place in order to hold up a composition that brought together the product of the whole band; such is the way of larger groups in any almost any team-based activity. I wouldn’t say I am knowledgeable on classical ensembles, but I certainly felt appreciative of each member of Meute, as they each held up their own pillar of song.

The band performed a long set of different tracks, some of which my companion shouted out that he knew. Throughout many of these, my attention was drawn to the marimba player, who seemed to be playing an alternating rhythm that repeated throughout many of the tracks. He played through the loud sections and he played through the lulls. Meute’s performance was all about layers, and repeating sections became welcome as I recognised them a few times. This was more acceptable as the band used these sections to build loud choruses and pre-choruses.

One of the best moments of the performance was when the support act’s vocalist joined Meute on stage for a song. Not only was this a great call-back to earlier in the night, but her voice added an element to the music that simply hadn’t been there before. For the less instrumentally-inclined, this provided signalling to section changes and context to verses. I had listened to a lot of instrumental music recently, and I don’t think that vocals or lyrics are necessary to any piece of music, however they do bring a more personal energy to a performance, allowing the audience to connect with the personalities behind the sound. There were a couple of occasions where the trombone player added vocal layers to the music too, and I think these were the most memorable songs for me.

Meute combine two genres that Germany is well known for: marching brass and techno. While I don’t think their appearance across Europe was necessarily an effort to spread German culture, it is clear that their influences were more traditional, even though they had obviously put an interesting and unique spin on it. The use of brass to create techno elements was an ambitious goal and I think that, in some cases, the performance was mission an electronic bass drop after a build to really make a chorus transition hit and pay-off, however the energy and positivity of both the band and the crowd made this a minor criticism, as everyone two-stepped themselves to leg-ache-death, including myself.

The only other comments I have on this front are generally very minor, and the first aligns with the electronic theme. The stage was set up in raised platforms so the audience could clearly see the members at the back. Above glared bright white neon lights in the shape of a logo. My question is: where are the lasers, strobes and smoke? Lads, if you are putting on a German techno show, there must be lasers, strobes and smoke. On a serious note, strobes can be seriously dangerous to anyone who suffers from epilepsy, but lighting can really affect the dynamics of a performance, mirroring builds to help bring that previously mentioned pay-off. I would really like to see Meute again but with these iconic techno performance features as I really think it would add a lot to their already fantastic energy. The other small gripe I had is with the use of confetti cannons towards the end of their set. Now, I can’t say I know the intimate details about whether their choice of confetti was biodegradable or was produced in an eco-friendly way, but I do know that many, many acts use confetti to signal a grand end to the performance, and there are several issues which can come with this. As an alternative, one of the most creative responses to this I have witnessed was from Avatar’s performance at the Ritz years previous, in which they used bubbles, which refracted their lightshow and lingered in the air longer, bringing a truly magical experience to an already-awesome show.

We escaped into the cold night air, nodding to each other in modest surprise of how impressed we were of the whole night. The audience had been very mixed, and some of them sauntered off to bars while others jumped in cabs. A pint, a cool, night-time walk home, and a shower later, I smiled to myself at the memory of meeting one of the band members in the bar across the street. I told him that they played amazingly and that I really enjoyed their performance, and he introduced himself as ‘Jurgen’, and said he was from Hamburg. I pondered this as I collapsed into bed that night: the pandemic had really divided the world up in many ways, from physical barriers to difficult relations, to collapses of entire industries. And yet, nearly two years on, I was chatting with a German musician in my favourite bar in my favourite city, with a big grin on my face, surrounded by some of the best energy and people I could ask for. Everything was going to be better again.

Big thanks to Emma Waite, Danny Howard and all the security and bar staff at the O2 Ritz for making a once-in-a-lifetime night happen.