Sunday 5 June 2011

Wrong and Long: Not a Relationship Update

Four Hours of Drone was never going to offer too many surprises: drone has a habit of doing exactly what it suggests it will. There are, broadly, two types of drone. One is the type that sounds like a politician left alone in a  recording studio: insistent, repetitious, monophonic, dreary. Then there is good drone.  Apart from explaining how it gets made - tonight is mostly electronic, with an acoustic guitar finale and multiple cassette players generating a more interactive section - there isn't much to say about it, musically. It finds a level, and pulses.

I might be off-beam, but I think that Long and Wrong are not trying to compete with the last Saturday at The GSA: FHoD offers a listening atmosphere, not a selection of dance hits. I drift in and out of the music, and whenever I go outside, I am assaulted by how hectic the CCA bar seems. Even mellow conversation sounds like a BNP discussion about allowing Asian membership. I take a stroll down Sauchiehall Street. It appears to be populated by very busy trolls and elves. I hurry - as far as my biorhythmic ecstasy allows me - back to the CCA. Just like that time when I heard Capella Nova sing Hildegard  in church, or I sacked out at Instal 10, my body chemistry was pumping out something very interesting.

So, if the drone gets abrasive, my thoughts become melancholic and frustrated. When the drone is smooth, I relax. The drone musician isn't trying to hook an audience. They guide.



Inevitably, I find myself drowning in my subconscious. It's like some forms of Live Art. It doesn't communicate clearly but invokes a highly subjective response. An hour's drone a day on Radio One would go a long way towards encouraging a more contemplative society. It might also frighten most of the population, leaving them struggling for a way in, an explanation. Yes, it's a bit like music - on acid.

When I focus on the sound, the slightest details or shifty becomes important. When I let my thoughts float on the music, I trail off into self-examination. It's a handy corrective to the compressed mayhem of modern media  overload.

Long and Wrong are having fun, developing a very different sort of performance space. One day, when my dreams of a post-modern cabaret are fulfilled, I'll have a drone act instead of a disco. In the meantime, I am looking out for their next event: if the blog is any guide, they are moving deeper into experimental territory, a DIY version of Arika.

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