Domino
Recording’s imprint into electronic territories has
been more and more consistent over the last few years,
with acts such as Mouse On Mars, Cinema or Four Tet.
Hence the bash they throw at the end of July, at 93
Feet East, in the East end of London, with performances
by Schlammpeitziger, Four Tet and, especially detached
from Leaf, Manitoba. Add to this DJ sets by Cinema,
Max Tundra and Bartalicious, and you’ve got one of the
most interesting nights of the summer.
While the
DJs were mostly banging in the bar, about two hundred
people gathered in the back room to drench their thirst
for twisted beats and decibels, starting with the Schlammpeitziger
curiosity. Named after a fish that can breath as well
through its mouth as through its arse (sic), Schlammpeitziger’s
eccentric toy mechanic music displays, slowly building
into monstrous Casio outbursts and concussed beats,
soon had the crowd nodding in admiration, even when
the man took the mike to “sing” some supposedly exotic
lines over one of his tracks. At first disconcerted,
then amused, the audience welcomed the vocal eruption
with cheers.
But this
was going to be the night of Manitoba and Four Tet,
as most of the people present were there for them only.
Dan Snaith and Kieran Hebden are two of a new generation
of laptop musicians, willing to experiment with their
pre-recorded sections. Both using the same computer
and turntables, the synergy between the two artists
was even more obvious than on record. Manitoba and Four
Tet, more than being similar, are complementary.
Snaith was
the first one to jump on stage. With his curly blond
hair, glasses and jeans and sleeveless t-shirt, he looked
like a rebellious teenager. He started his set almost
quietly, too busy getting the whole thing started to
acknowledge the crowd with more than a smile. Extracting
tracks from Start Breaking My Heart, only to submit
them to extreme chaotic treatments, the man never lost
control of his machines. Morphing tracks into each other,
pausing only for a few seconds every now and then before
engaging in more ear challenging constructions, he would
always, then, welcome the cheers by a sign of the hand.
After a
forty-five minute, Kieran Hebden took over, mixing his
first input into Manitoba’s last. Equally as juvenile
looking as Snaith, the Four Tet man’s concentration
would occasionally slip as he let a wide smile light
his face. As Snaith, Hebden extractions from his two
albums underwent some twisted mutations during his set,
as he often injected deadly abstract beats into his
chilled compositions, to the delight of the crowd, who
didn’t fail to manifest its appreciation. So much so
than Kieran had to extend his set as the audience wouldn’t
let him go without hearing one more track. |
