The Thing is a Scandinavian free-jazz trio built on baritone sax, double bass, and drums, born from love of Don Cherry and garage energy.

Nordic Fire Music, Garage Grit

After a pandemic pause and members juggling other projects, they are back to the stage with that raw, physical approach. Expect a set that moves from open noise to stubborn grooves, with covers and themes snapping into focus.

What They Might Play Tonight

Likely pieces include The Thing (the Don Cherry tune that named the band), The White Stripes Aluminum, and Captain Beefheart Dropout Boogie. They also sometimes slam into The Stooges TV Eye, turning the riff into a blunt chant before breaking it apart. The crowd usually skews mixed in age and background, from improv heads comparing notes to rock fans curious about volume and risk; earplugs are common, phones are not. Trivia worth knowing: early on they recorded with Joe McPhee, and later morphed into The Cherry Thing with Neneh Cherry to push their songbook in new ways. Note: any setlist and staging details here are educated guesses based on past shows, not fixed promises.

The Thing Crowd: Quiet Focus, Loud Cheers

Serious ears, warm room

The room often starts quiet, almost library-like, because people want to hear the small sounds before the storm. When a solo peaks or a groove locks, the cheers arrive fast and then stop just as fast, a sign that listening matters here. Fashion skews practical: dark denim, label tees from Rune Grammofon or Smalltown Superjazzz, and jackets folded on amps. You see tote bags with record shop logos and a lot of foam earplugs, but also notebooks where people jot titles they caught. Merch lines move for hand-screened posters, limited vinyl, and sometimes a split 7-inch tied to the tour. Between sets, conversations drift to which Don Cherry theme got quoted, or which PJ Harvey or The White Stripes song they bent out of shape. It is a social scene, but the focus stays on the music's push and pull rather than selfies or shout-alongs.

How The Thing Hits: Sound over Spectacle

Muscle, breath, and grind

The core sound starts with baritone and tenor sax bark cutting into a bass-and-drum engine that favors pulse over prettiness. Mats Gustafsson can be whisper-soft or full storm, and he sometimes runs the horn through fuzz and delay like a guitar. Ingebrigt Haker Flaten locks a simple figure until it becomes a hook, then bow-scrapes or adds a dirt pedal to thicken the floor. Paal Nilssen-Love shifts from dry, martial snare to rolling toms, shaping tempo by feel rather than strict clicks. A common live trick is to hint the head near the end; they chew on fragments first, then drop the full theme so you feel the room snap in. They also stretch rock covers by changing where the accents land, turning straight riffs into lopsided patterns that still hit hard. Visuals are spare and stark, usually just sharp front light that makes the physical playing easy to read.

Kindred Noise: The Thing's Extended Family

Kindred noise, shared risk

Fans of Joe McPhee will feel at home because his open phrasing and raw tone share the same space The Thing thrives in. If you follow Thurston Moore, the crossover of noise texture, riff ghosts, and long arcs is a clear bridge. The large-scale churn of Fire! Orchestra mirrors The Thing's love of repetition turned into momentum, just blown up to a choir of horns. People into The Ex often enjoy the way both acts turn rough rhythm into danceable throb without smoothing the edges. For the more heady side, John Zorn brings similar jump-cuts and game-like structure, which matches how this trio pivots on a dime. Each of these artists rewards close listening yet still hits the body, not just the brain. If those shows work for you, this one should land too.