Autechre @ The Art School

It's the mid-1990s. I am probably wearing a global hyper-colour t-shirt and waving fluorescent sticks around. I am listening to Autechre with Serocell. Since they have been switching styles since the boom years of acid house, it's difficult to remember which phase this would have been: maybe the glitch period, an apparent response to the legislation against 'repetitive beats' (as mentioned in Kieran Hurley's monologue about the rave scene, Beats). 

"Hmm," says Serocell. "What makes you young will one day make you old." 

2014, and I am standing in a packed room at the Glasgow School of Art. I've come in for the end of a day-long festival, Simple Things, and trying to catch a glance of a man in a baseball cap, who is fiddling with some machines, possibly a computer. The crowd are facing the stage and when dancing breaks out a few feet away from me, I think it is a fight. 

"Excuse me, are you selling anything?"  

I am delighted that an attractive young woman has come over to speak to me: I don't even mind that she has mistaken me for a drug-dealer. 

"I'm sorry," I mumbled. "This is just my halloween costume. I've come as a concept." She looks nervous and walks away.

The band aren't coming on yet - is it a band or a person? - so I nip out the front for a cigarette. Inevitably, one of my ex-students is on the door. I am always pleased to see them, and prefer it when they are on the door, being responsible, and not blitzed on alcohol. We chat about dramaturgy for a while, and I head back in. 

A man stops me on the stairs and asks if I am Pharrell Williams. I don't think he is just being cheeky and I am just glad to get the reference. 

I looked him up on Wikipedia. Esquire's Best Dressed Man of 2005. I'm just saying.

Anyway, I explain to him that this is my halloween costume, and that I have come as William Burroughs, June 1973. "It less distinctive than the October 1987 version," I add. "But he still had a bit of meat on his face in the early 1970s."

Around this time, Autechre take the stage. I haven't kept up with them: I know I have their collaboration with The Hafler Trio on CD, but it surprises me when I realise (thanks to Wikipedia, again), that the last album that I bought, Confield, was released in 2001. 

I am the only person wearing a suit, and although I have a rather wonderful shirt with an elasticated panel at the back (it stretches to fit my frame and cools me down, a bit like the unstable molecules that The Fantastic Four has), I understand why raving three-pieces have been traditionally rare. I am hot and, in a sign of my age, envy, rather than lust over, the young women in the relatively skimpy dresses.

"This is the most abstract music ever made," says the guy in front of men. He is wearing a backpack - it's a dumber thing to wear than a suit, because at least I am suffering myself. Every time he turns to his mate to explain how well he gets Autechre's sophistication, he hits me with his backpack. 

I am not hearing extreme abstraction though: when I talk about abstraction, I am usually claiming that a piece of dance, or theatre, is climbing towards a metaphysical vantage point: its content is more of a foundation for general meditations on the problems that drive it. Dance is very good at abstraction, because movement can be interpreted in many ways. Music is abstract - unless Berg has borrowed an unfinished Wozzeck  for the lyrics, or Wagner wrote a libretto about the death of the old gods - but I am not sure that Autechre would win in an abstraction context with Bach, or the atonal gang, or Serocell's latest.

I am hearing a lecture. It's composed of sound, but Autechre's set is flowing through their various approaches - and sometimes juddering, of course. The rhythmic complexity stays throughout, and the subtle use of layered melody - but they reference their championing of glitches, and retain the majesty that has always been their hallmark.

But, with time, Autechre sound less like pioneers of a future music but another bricolage act. Most of the bits and pieces do belong to them, and their influence is such that one of their albums usually inspired many imitations. Glitch went off on its own adventures (I reckon that fashion for 8-Bit music came from their), the beats came close to jungle, and the weight of their bass can be heard, echoed, in dubstep. Yet, over time, their own sound reveals its sources and influence. The shining sheen of futurology becomes an elegant rummage in the past.

Not that there is the kitsch that pop music adores: they might have been around in the 1990s, but they are not nostalgically culling elements from their peers. Their music, however, as the crowd seems to admit, is not to be danced away. It is to be observed.

The show is not dramaturgically rich, in visual terms. The layering of percussive urgency, tentative melody and floating bass is quite enough, thank you. And at various points, the music essays the journey of electronic music. The clinic, clean sound draws the line back to the haute-couture of the Belleville Three gang and forward to dubstep. Autechre are archivists, cerebral and demonstrating the continuity of electronic dance music, at least up to about 2007.

And this is why I wore the suit. 

Magic Moments... Made for Sharing

Here is my weekly list of five really cool things that I saw, heard or thought while I was about being a critic. Plus two rubbish ones, just from life, really.

The pas de deux between Mina and her husband (Dracula @Tramway). 

Another good bit(e)

Mark Bruce is big on the 'pas de deux equals people having sex' equation, and never more so than when Mina and Jonathan have their honeymoon night together. Capturing both characters' tentative intimacy, while establishing their sense of alienation even in the act of love, it encouraged the dancers to stretch themselves (literally and metaphorically) to present a sensual, hesitant union.  When the other characters came back on stage, it felt like they had barged into the bedroom. 

Guy Veale's soundscape (OOG @ The Arches).
Despite its reputation as a venue for alternative performance, The Arches is a tough space to work: the rumbling of trains overhead can be distracting. Veale's soundscape for Al Seed's exercise in physical precision was both tough enough to conquer the rumbles, and porous enough to incorporate them into the overall atmosphere. Switching between My Bloody Valentine, ambient (and probably illbient) numbers and a jaunty spot of old time jazz, Veale lent Seed's post-apocalyptic soldier an immersive, daunting dark atmosphere.

Putin's Photograph on the wall (Leviathan @ Glasgow Film Theatre).
A Russian take on The Book of Job was never likely to be a chuckle-fest, but the subtle pointers to the corruption of the ruling elite through Leviathan made it as much political satire as theodicy. In a key scene, when the corrupt mayor is confronted by the over-sexed lawyer (no-one is innocent in this film), a framed portrait of an anemic looking Putin is just above their heads throughout the scene, making it clear that evil is one thing that does work in trickle-down economic theory.

Victor Zarallo and Sophie Martin (Scottish Ballet Up Close @ Tramway).
At the risk of being another critic whom Sophie Martin has to arrange a restraining order, the brief pas de deux Jealousy by James Cousins in SB's mixed mixed bill was another reminder of how she is becoming one of the most exciting dancers in Scotland, meshing contemporary energy with classical technique. Bathed in red light, and teetering between the erotic and the despairing, Cousin's choreography gave both dancers a showcase that insists on ballet's ability to explore emotional extremes without compromising on its rigorous physicality.

The Words on the Body (Autumn Nerve Dance @ Old Hairdressers).
Paul  Michael Henry is always good for a bit of butoh inspired action, but Prof Lavery (academics - if you tell me, I'll steal it) pointed out a layer to this dance. Henry's use of projected cut-ups covered his body, emphasising the failure of words to express whatever Henry's movements were trying to manifest - but their disappearance left Henry's body bare and vulnerable. Not just some funky moves, Autumn Nerve Dance posed a question about how words might shape our identities, even if they are merely reflections on the surface of our bodies...

And here's the rubbish...

That Bloke In Front of Me (Autechre @ The Art School).
When he turned round and said in a loud voice that 'this was the most abstract thing ever made,' I wondered whether his comment on Autechre's electronic lesson in history (I'll get to it) was profound or just a stupid bit of showing off that revealed an ignorance of, say conceptual art  or Xenakis' compositions. I was pondering what he meant when he followed this up with 'and there is only one sound going on at a time', which was audibly wrong. 

Him wearing a comedy sanitary towel fancy dress on Halloween (Total Fucking Nightmare Walk Home @ Sauchiehall Street). 

The internet proves this is not an
isolated activity. Thanks, internet.

While it was a bold move to challenge the hegemony of the 'sexy' halloween fashions (I was more conservative and went for 'sexy William Burroughs), the man who was wearing a big bloody tampon wasn't committed enough to the feminist subtext to really pull it off. Actually, given that halloween is supposed to be about monsters (even 'sexy nurse' had a bit of blood on her - either because she was being top beat combo Nurse with Wound ((c) Lorna Irvine) or she'd cut herself on her nasal accent), wearing a towel suggests an innate fear of menstruation. 

There is, of course, another joke about where these towels are usually found, and what this makes him, but I think that's going into misogynistic territory. 

Live Blog From the New Projects Weekend (2)

Over to The Art School for Caries. It sounds like mating elephants down there as we make our way in: inside, it is more delicate. It’s one man and his guitar, toying with feedback and distortion in the time-honoured style. Rudimentary melodies feed over the loudspeakers, moaning and howling at themselves. This is not unpleasant. Obviously, the volume is a feature, and there’s no attempt to develop song structure. Given that it’s an event that is all about the emerging artist, there will be a fair amount of experimentation. Caries is sat on stage, testing what happens if he uses this pedal at that volume…

Sonic Youth were up to this, long before they became Sonic Adults and divided their output between contemporary classical and alternative rock. It’s questionable whether music with a strong lineage can be really experimental – this interrogation of the guitar’s potential is well documented already. The format of the gig is deceptive. Caries is making meditative soundscapes. It’s desolate, lonely but warm: the guitar provides a humanity that laptops can’t, even when they are sampling guitars.

There ought to be enough absurdity in that sentence to inspire someone to deconstruct my assumptions. Perhaps it is the lack of percussion, but Caries is easier on the ear than Princess NRG.

I just remembered that Eric likes jazz, and I have dragged him into a day of noise and provocations. Do I have a moral responsibility to him as a collaborator, or is it okay for me to throw this at him? Equally, what about the artists? Writing live reviews is a bit of a challenge for me, but does it do justice to the art? I am not giving myself time to recollect in peace.

Caries has gone very early 1980s Sonic Youth now. He’s picking his way through a tentative solo, plenty of harmonics, clashing and clanging unfamiliar chords. The feedback follows his lead, like a cloak dragging behind the music.

This is very beautiful. I suppose experimental music is all about imagining other worlds where this is played in a more public arena. Princess NRG was in a science fiction future – we probably live in one of those now – while this is the chamber music of a melancholy court, their hero was sent into battle and died when he saved the city.

Hey Eric: I am going upstairs to get a coffee and a signal for the net…

Live Blog from New Projects Weekend (1)

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Welcome to the VileArts’ Live blogging session for The New Projects Weekend. Co-conspirator Eric Karoulla will be over on his blog, sharing his experiences from a day of wild music and perfomance action.

We are side-by-side in the basement of Nice’n’Sleazy and there’s the first act: plenty of strobe action from Princess NRG. It might be one man and his laptop, but I am heading to epilepsy through the light show.

Nice used of washes here – not too heavy and not too melodic, but certainly emotive and forceful. It has that sweet isolationist quality: music not too fussed whether it explains itself. But now he’s breaking up into a drum versus sampled vocal battle.

He’s got a microphone and the voice is rattling right through me. The drum sample is very metal, the voice is almost jazzy, maybe r’n’b. Maybe Eric’s got something on it – he’s the one with the knowledge of languages.

Princess NRG has got what appears to be a massive fluorescent bong next to his laptop. The impact of the strobe is starting to wear off now. The sound of scraping metal he’s just unleashed takes us into darker, raw territory. “It’s just a loud of bloody noise,” and considerably less interesting than the previous mash-up.

Ah. The computer just shut down, and he’s had to start again. It’s difficult to tell, but I think that he’s just realigning the samples…

Bulgarian voice choir: very topical. And now a more jittering beat arrives with orchestral wash. Princess NRG is picking up on the eclectic potential of the sample, showing little respect for sources but emphasising the juxtaposition of different geographies. That’s a fairly eastern groove he’s dropping now.

For first up on a Saturday afternoon, the boy is doing well. There is a consistency to his sound: the volume makes it aggressive despite the pop sensibility and the judicious use of samples. He’s letting the bit play itself out, rotating the variations of the melody over a rhythm that wouldn’t shame a bhangra banger. I’d argue that this isn’t the perfect time and place: it’s disco music from a scene in Bladerunner. Harsh, almost militaristic and diverse: he holds the beat long enough to make this dance music, but rough enough to be evocative.

The fact that Eric and I sitting in the corner typing is probably as much of a show as the performance isn’t wasted on me.

Let’s see how Eric is getting on…

  

New Projects @ Sauchiehall Street

It's not as if I haven't done one top five for January already, but as soon as I finish it, another event announces itself. It's the New Projects Weekend at The Art School and Nice N Sleazy, and it not only threatens to devour the whole of the 19th January, it is spread across the two venues in Sauchiehall Street, which means walking past the happy clubbers on their way to Yates. Cheers.

The day is divided into music, spoken word, performance, installation and moving image. Within each section there is further variety - music spans from analogue synths through rap to improvised solo guitar.  My highlight will probably be The Mathletics Team, who not only have a funny name but sing about comics. Beyond that, I can't take it all in - like the best festivals, it needs to be experienced.

Here's the webpage...

Here's the line up...

Music

Analogue Anonymous: A group of like-minded musicians who have a passion for analogue equipment. For this performance they will be utilizing series of synths, drum machines and sequencers.

Caries: Guitars and loops with a humble Tape.

Female Band: An experimental gothic pop performance consisting of collected sounds recorded sounds - edited and performed in a live context.

Graham Mack: Live improvised experimental guitar work with recently recorded field recordings.

Hausfrau: Synth cabaret versions of 60s and 70s rock/pop sounds, featuring members of Aggi Doom and Organs of Love.

Howie Reeve: DIY punk, folk and world music influenced songs with bass guitar and voice, brought to you by Howie from Tattie Toes, and old friend of the Vile Arts Radio Hour.

Leafwrist : Ambient folk-influenced experimental electronics by newly re-located Australian. Featuring visual projections.

Louie (Hector Bizerk): Razor-sharp and witty rap on Glasgow-life and politics from Hector Bizerk's frontman.

The Mathletics Team: An 8-piece band who play under superhero pseudonyms and play pop rock songs about comic books, fantasy and general geeky subculture.

Mount Analogue: A performance of Sonic Deprivation,  a loud, immersive piece of ambient music in complete darkness.

Saint Max and the Fanatics: Offbeat, poetic and energetic 'ADHD-pop' outfit, fresh from a recording their debut EP at Green Door Studios.


Star Voyage: Quasi-improvised Intergalatic space-funk, featuring a real-life midi guitar. Plus live visuals by James William Farlam.

Thomas Burmby: Found sound files scoured from laptops; cut, moved around and re-assembled into the skeleton of a piece of music.

Yoko Ono's Coma: Groovey no-wave, Indie-pop, noise and found sounds, featuring members of Charles of the Ritz, Asian Babes and The Cosmic Dead (among others).

Vox Gradus: Loose, droney tracks from a waterlogged basement, skittering rhythms and broken pieces all furious with the future / lack of. With visuals!

Spoken Word

Emerge 'n' See : A two part performance between both venues involving a disjunction between audio and visual gestures. We will look at the aesthetics/ontology of emerging and the possibility of producing the 'new'.


Performance

Pester and Rossi (Nadia Rossi and Ruby Pester): A performance taking place in the street between The Art School and Nice N Sleazy, followed by a finale performance inside one of the venues.

Amy Pickles, Ailsa MacKenzie and Justyna Ataman, Easy as 1-2-3: Three performers run back and forth between two venues carrying props and costumes, attempting to create a stage in each of the windows.


Michelle Hannah: A performance based around the dystopian lounge singer with use of fragmentation and repetitive appropriation of a chosen pop song. Designed to engage, entice and repulse equally in artifice.


Installation

Ioanna Faga: Interactive collage on how we are destroyed without democracy. Put traits on the face and change it completely.


Bradley Davies and Nick Thomas: 2013 is the 82nd anniversary of the invention of the radio-telescope. Their installed radio-telescope will being a dash of the cosmos to Sauchiehall Street through audio and visualisations.


Marianne Wilson: Video installation using projection mapping techniques incorporating 3D reflective and transparent surfaces. The piece will aim to merge contemporary media with older, more scientific forms of technology. A push pull relationship with intrusive and immersive technology.

Susannah Stark and Katy Shambles: A cryptic light installation and interactive DJ set. The audience will be able to decode and record words and messages from the bulbs using printed charts - these words will then influence the DJ.


Kim Walker: A piece exploring language, the responses of two people to one another, and the associations their words have to each others words. The two have come together for a period of time knowing that they must part again.

Moving Image

Jack Saunders: A new video work addressing the hierarchy of perishable produce. Ideas of consumption are explored alongside those of consumer hypocrisy.

Mario Soustiel and Thomai Pnevmonidou: Moving image Collage on an infinite loop of a dancing couple dancing on the edge of a cliff


Alice Bradshaw : Projections investigating the processes involving the manipulation of everyday objects and materials. Mass-produced, anonymous objects are often rendered dysfunctional caricatures of themselves, addressing concepts of purpose and futility.