Whether recorded or live its safest to expect the unexpected when encountering the sensory assault of US experimental rock band Xiu Xiu. On their last trip to Brighton at the end of 2024, they gave us as close to a conventional ‘rock’ show as this most singular noise power-trio could deliver. This time around though on their return to ACCA, Eraserhead Xiu Xiu suggests a performance where definition and description are going to get shredded.
Scouting for clues before the event, interviews with Xiu Xiu main stay Jamie Stewart quizzically revealed that this latest audio/visual project would be within the original’s “universe”, so devoid of footage or soundtrack replays from David Lynch’s cult first movie. Other online digging brought up reviews of a small run of performances at the end of ’25 where ear-testing aggressive sonics and broken glass theatrics were mentioned. Some write-ups were awestruck, one reported walk outs.
So tonight’s Xiu Xiu encounter comes loaded with intrigue and anticipation. Even the running order adds to the enigma – Eraserhead Xiu Xiu is first up with support from Furrowed (producer/sound artist Dylan Beattie’s tech whizz, vinyl-generated intricacy) in the aftermath. Most people seem to have clocked the chicanery though and by opening time there’s already a polite queue huddling around the hall doors ready to bag their prime seat. Yes this seems to be a keen crowd, beyond the casually curious although hinting of film buffs as well as Xiu Xiu aficionados.
Julie Cruise floats around the ACCA main room from the sound system pre-show, a reminder that Xiu Xiu have re-imagined music from the Lynch canon before on their Plays The Music Of Twin Peaks album. The on stage set points towards a different direction to that previous straight(ish) musical tribute though. An ordered spread of electronic hardware is laid out, functional and business-like. A plain pink film projection waits above the table and to the side is a wheelie bin, some empty bottles and a broomstick. It’s like the recreation of an empty office.
When the house lights dim Stewart and Seo stride on purposefully. They are white-collar suited, so far so Henry Spencer. The pair sit in sync behind the table and settle for a moment. Then Stewart points up to the sound desk at the hall rear and snap, Eraserhead Xiu Xiu tears into existence.
From here for forty five minutes we are propelled into an unsettling whirl of sound and vision, often abrasive, frequently bruising but uncannily compulsive. The soundscape Seo and Stewart create live and its visual counterpart are inseparable, seeming to feed off (or feed on) each other. At first the sonics seem to steer close to the original ground-breaking experimental soundtrack that Lynch composed with sound artist Alan Splet. A tide of short-circuiting white noise swarms around the hall as ominous as the rushing winds which accompanied Eraserhead’s grimy opening frames. Xiu Xiu’s projections at this point seem passive, a pure sheet of snow which morphs into a sea foam wash, but soon strobing images of animal carcasses and gargoyles disorientate. In the shadows the Xiu Xiu partnership stare down at their key-pads, almost motionless until Stewart whoops and warbles some improv vocal scat in his boom mic.
Eraserhead Xiu Xiu then plunges into a stunning mesh of Musique concrète and monochrome arthouse imagery with an intensity which threatens sensory overload. Besides the weighty industrial electronics, Seo and Stewart use toy instruments to bring some levity and diversion. A bicycle horn, a swanee whistle, tiny bells and balloons are all played with a seriousness which adds to the disorientation. At one point the pair stand up, each holding a length of corrugated plastic tube, to deliver an absurdist duet of groans and screams.
Crucially, amongst all the Cage-ist experimentation in this new piece Xiu Xiu weave in ‘musical’ threads to allow for balance and air. There are sections where pounding rhythms shake the ACCA seat-backs while in contrast Seo instils calm with brief pipe organ toned synth melodies, maybe nodding to the original film soundtrack’s Fats Waller tunes. Other subtle references to the Eraserhead movie flash by almost subliminally. Amongst the clips of crashing buildings, S&M entanglements, piercings, gimp masks, rustling trees and urban waste there are snippets of baby-bird silhouettes, floor tiles and chickens. Less obliquely at strategic moments Stewart yelps “OK Paul” and Seo screams “Shut Up” hysterically, as if in the grip of the Eraserhead narrative.
What these moments reveal is the meticulous detail Xiu Xiu have put into this performance piece. Every aspect is choreographed with purpose. Even Stewart’s buttoning up of his suit jacket each time he stands, seems meaningfully obsessive. However the overwhelming climax of the piece demands more than focus. It feels emotionally raw and tense. Seo and Stewart are standing now, beating out a final procession, as colour bursts across the screen for the first time. A grinding drone, alien screams and provocative clips of a milk-guzzling woman ramp up the uneasiness until some silence before a single chime sounds. The lights suddenly go up for Stewart to sing with disbelieving sorrow, ‘In Heaven’, Eraserhead’s “Lady in the radiator” tune. As he croons it’s as if the room is suspended in the poignancy.
Eraserhead Xiu Xiu has one last twist though. Song complete Stewart walks over to the wheelie-bin and ferociously casts one bottle at time from a table of empties into the tub. Bottles gone he then snatches the broomstick to pummel and stir the glass shards in the bin. It sounds bizarre but the drama is palpable. Job done he walks to centre stage, and, still staring out at us, holds out a hand in Seo’s direction. She joins him and within the applause they take one long bow before walking off in business-like unison.
When the lights rise, the exodus to the bar and beyond seems subdued. Plenty of people stay seated, some talk, some stare, some laugh, some frown. Searching for meaning will maybe come later but for now perceptions appear shifted and questions still hang in the air. Eraserhead Xiu Xiu, like the seminal work that inspired it, packs an unforgettable artistic punch.
The Attenborough Centre For Creative Arts, Saturday 31st January 2026
Words by John Parry
