The American drone metal band Earth played at the Custard Factory in a gig promoted by Jenny and Lisa of Capsule. Support was from Lash Frenzy, a side-project of Andrew Moscardo-Parker of Birmingham post-rock band Einstellung. The set-up was pretty simple. Five guitarists stood facing the stage with two stacks of amplifiers before them and together played a chord in the key of C (in tribute to the headliners as the planet Earth reportedly resonates in this key). This chord lasted for about half an hour. And that was pretty much it.

The magic was in what they did with this sound and as they carefully moved their guitars in front of the speakers effectively playing the feedback the nearest comparison I can think of is the theremin. The end result was a wall of noise that gradually built and sustained, filling the room with undulating frequencies. Imagine the final few seconds of a heavy metal set, as the guitars are rammed into the speakers before the sound guy switches them off, only stretched out and delicately deconstructed as the players explored the effects this technique could produce.

Sure, it was an endurance piece for the audience, as much for the volume as the texture of the sound which went through my body and brain in a most odd fashion, but as you let it take you over there was a beauty there, this strange place where the raw becomes delicate. It reminded me, in spirit, of Franko B’s piece Don’t Leave Me This Way which was performed as part of the Fierce Festival last year and is currently on tour (though not coming back to Birmingham). Having been fascinated by Franko B for a while I went along expecting something special. Franko sat naked on a plinth in total darkness. As an industrial soundtrack assaulted our ears massive lights flashed on and off, blinding the audience. It was quite marvelous and after 10 minutes my brain was starting to adjust to this radically different environment, sparking new ideas and feelings. I found myself being absorbed into Franko’s world, my preconceptions about comfort being shattered.

And then suddenly it was over. The lights came up, Franko was gone, and everyone just sat there, waiting. Eventually the staff told us it was over and we had to leave. I felt slightly cheated, not because I’d spent £10 for 10 minutes of stuff, but cheated in that Frank had offered so much and failed to see it through. He’d shown me another place, somewhere I felt interesting things could happen, but neglected to take us on that journey, something that would take a half an hour at least, if not an hour.

Which brings me back to Lash Frenzy who, it must be said, weren’t doing much different to the standard “drone metal” band, taking the base elements of heavy metal (as developed by Birmingham’s own Tony Iommi) and experimenting with them. This sort of performance is not so unusual in the venues of Birmingham and were it not for the subtle different staging of Lash Frenzy turning this into something closer to a performance than a traditional gig, I might not have had the revelation that this was, y’know, Art. And that, in turn, a significant amount of live music that takes place in the pubs and clubs of the city, witnessed by folks with smudges of ink stamped on their wrists with pints of beer in their hands, is also Art.

And then I thought, why is this a revelation?