A ray of sunshine hit Hackney
hard on Friday 4th June, as the Sonarclub shipped in
for a one off spectacular. This was the official launch
for the Barcelona based electronic extravaganza and
a chance for all present to spot who might be sitting
next to them on the flight over. Heading the line-up
were Sonar stalwarts techno king Jeff Mills and experimental
hip-hopper RJD2.
At first glance, the Hackney Ocean seems a strange
choice of location. A cavernous aircraft hanger of a
venue stuck out in tube-less lands, its music policy
is traditionally more roots and R’n’B than
techno and glitch-hop. But the success of last year’s
event featuring the collective talents of Squarepusher,
Colder and Plaid lured the organisers back for another
session of San Miguel, storming bass lines and the best
in summery blips and beeps.
The lure of an RJD2 live set drew a sizeable crowd
well before pub closing time, as eager Sonar clubbers
gathered to worship at the altar of RJ’s unorthodox
hip-hop sounds. Since the release of 2002’s amazingly
innovative Deadringer, RJD2 has been on a non-stop
sonic adventure, cutting and pasting his way through
mountains of retro samples to create an organic sound
that vaguely resembles a live band. Currently on tour
promoting his sophomore offering, the poetically titled
Since We Last Spoke, RJ was the main attraction
for many due to his absence from the real deal.
Cutting an unassuming figure on Ocean’s vast
stage he mixed it up nicely between Deadringer’s
more dance floor-friendly material such as crowd pleaser
The Horror and the heavier genre-bending sounds
of Since We Last Spoke. Effortlessly ripping
it up over four decks, chucking in the occasional bit
of banter and demonstrating his undeniable evolution
into the master beat shaper of this millennium, RJD2
added an authentic Sonar vibe to the proceedings.
Next up was Ukrainian techno master Vitalic, best known
for his spectacular Pony EP, which still brings
down the dance floor three years on. Searching for something
slightly less banging we wandered past the male highlight
of the evening; Sonar Babe resplendent in front of her
own posters and wearing a pair of hot pants that would
have made Kylie jealous.
Despite these dubious delights, the unexpected highlight
of the evening materialised in the form of Brazil’s
DJ Marlboro. Tucked away in the heaving sweatbox that
served as a second room, he bounced about behind the
decks exuding the Latino party spirit. His distinct
brand of Brazillian booty bass is driven by rhythm and
a pervasive sexual energy and is the sound of an underground
movement played out to thousands every weekend in the
favelas of Rio de Janeiro. A won-over crowd smiled,
shook and scrambled for the free CDs he scattered among
us. Nice.
Time for Jeff. Tearing ourselves away from the start
of a promising set by Richard X, we headed back to the
cool oasis of the main room for a blinding set from
the godfather of Detroit techno. Raised up on stage
with visuals displaying the full extent of his dexterity
and hyperactivity behind three decks Mills gave a display
of sheer uncompromising brute techno force.
A gratifyingly loud blast of ear-bleeding electrical
noise reigned down upon us as the Wizard made it clear
he is still light years ahead of any other pretenders
to his throne. Speed, precision and personality are
the hallmarks of a quality Mills set and this was no
exception, old school classics mixed up and played out
hard and fast. The odd fluffed mix can be written off
as the result of keeping three decks on the go and he
more than made up for it with combinations and textures
no other can match. Fritz Lang’s silent movie
Metropolis, to which Mills once did a live score, made
a mesmerising backdrop. Mills is many things to many
people, techno and non-techno heads alike, for me he
personifies the essence of electronic music.
Exhausted by the brilliance of Mill’s set and
the general hecticness of the evening, we staggered
out into the smoggy London air with the sounds of Sonar
ringing in our ears and high hopes for the musical adventure
that lies in wait in Barcelona.
Serena Kutchinski |
