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.