Before some cinematic whizz kids whisked up sound recording equipment and a method of playing dialogue and music alongside a motion picture back in the late 1920s, cinema goers had to share the cinema with musicians (often an assembled orchestra) packed in below the screen so as to gain that emotional high that sound adds to the big screen. In today's world, where sound and music is nigh ubiquitous in our lives, it's a rare and heralded chance to attend a cinematic screening accompanied by musicians. And not just any old classical musicians (no offence meant you lovely bunch of classical buggers you) but a duo from LA known for sticking their noses into noise rock and shoegaze; No Age.

The ICA played host to the twosome, who were present to play for around a couple of hours solid to the visuals of a 1988 movie from French director Jean-Jacques Annaud, titled 'The Bear'. I will provide a quick breakdown of the movie (without spoiling anything, of course) for explanation sake. A little orphaned bear cub attaches itself to a ginormous adult grizzly who is being pursued relentlessly by a couple of gnarly hunters. Oh and there are some odd, trippy cartoon sequences, plenty of beautifully, awe-inspiring shots of the wilds of British Columbia and plenty of thematic wonderment on ideas of danger, the wild and humans versus animals.

No Age came out to a smattering of applause, humble and nodding, taking their place at a set of keys and electronic-looking-gizmos and an electric guitar, settling in for what surely must have been a tiring event. The energy the guys have is without question, evident in the way they power through their normal sets, but having to push this by playing completely nonstop for so long must have been testing on the arm muscles somewhat. Nonetheless, the band bought an oddly fitting accompaniment to the film, sending forth rather loud drones and expansive soundscapes, rising and falling with the appropriate danger levels. Softly woven fuzz came into play as the little bear cup wandered across the great, green plains and pounding key effects poured into the room when the human element onscreen came into play, wielding their rifles with an uneasy air of peril.

The highlight of the piece came when a chase scene towards the end (no more details divulged, I promise) allowed Dean to move to the drumkit positioned off to the left of stage, bringing a whole new degree of heart-pumping, clashing, smashing fear into proceedings as each beat found a supplementary shock onscreen. There were some moments when timing seemed somewhat, ever-so-slightly, off as some section of thunderous dirge crept into a delicate woodland scene and vice versa. Even so, as the credits rolled and the band died down, slowly but surely, a vigorous applause showed nothing but admiration, with the duo thanking everyone sheepishly for the opportunity to do something they rarely get a chance to do. I, for one, even with ringing ears, would happily let them soundtrack my every trip to the picture houses of London. Maybe we should go back to this style; I want Vangelis in house whilst Blade Runner shows, Best Coast jamming during Point Break, Male Bonding kicking out the beats to Bill and Ted and Janelle Monae dancing about in front of Metropolis; well, a man can dream!