By Tyler Sterling
Minutes before Failure stepped onto the venue’s launchpad, the audience gathered eagerly at ground control.
Backstage, the trio covered their ascent checklist for the long journey ahead.
Altitude tracker? Check.
Hydraulic pump? Check, check.
Fuel cells? And, that’s a check.
Kelli Scott’s drum kit was at an elevated position in the middle of the stage like a space shuttle orbiter. Two blinking guitar pedal control boards lay at the wings, ready to be stomped by Ken Andrews and Greg Edwards at pivotal moments in the voyage.
The audience was made up of those who were “there” for Failure’s three fabled 90s albums (Comfort, Magnified, and Fantastic Planet) and swaths of more recent listeners who hopped aboard mid-route for their recent return home.
As the three-piece manned their stations, the huddled crowd shifted eagerly.
There was no countdown for launch–as soon as they took hold of their instruments, the g-force was already felt. Kelli thrusted the song into the stratosphere with thunderous drum fills and a deep rocket fueled kick drum pulse. Ken and Greg entered their musical hivemind and plucked cosmic dusted riffs in a signature Failure guitar tone–fairly clean, but pummeling.
Something about their music has continually defied easy description. It’s familiar, yet otherworldly–conscious, yet grounded–aggressive, yet vulnerable. They occupy the gray area between planets, adrift in the vacuum of space.
A Failure show gives plenty of material for daydreaming minds looking for a new perspective on where they came from. Don’t miss them on their 2022 summer tour and don’t forget to write home while on your journey.