July 2024
The Rossi Bar
It’s a very quiet start for Bagombo Snuffbox, I can hear some flute music possibly leaking through from upstairs, or maybe one of Adam’s tape loops, or maybe it’s this growly glitching backwards voicing. But possibly that comes from Gary’s laptop. Everything gets munged into the spiralling effects chain anyway, to curdle away like that fermented foodstuff that’s so good for you. It was a flute! I can tell as it comes back over a steam train reversing into a spaceport. Something vast slides by surrounded by burbling synths. Loops of ¼” tape are switched around with those lovingly set up on a stand. Dinosaurs are loosed. The tape is manipulated by hand, sounds slur or speed up. Rhythms generate themselves in the effects chain. There are little radiophonic spoops of synth like tugboats attending to the still emerging starship while a Tannoy quietly mutters to itself a couple of miles away. At one point it sounds like short & improbably fast games of table tennis are being played. More odd little half melodies emerge from open ports as everything slides past. The duo are constantly at work fidgeting away at things, nudging and knurling. Towards the end a worrying rhythm starts, against paper tears, balloon squeaks and thumb piano which swirls away into hand rewound voices, synthy smirks and a railway terminus announcement. Then, Adam: “See it, Say it … Sorted..”
Bye Bagombo
Next was Teashape, solo rather than the usual duo (one half is in the North) the set started with technical difficulties and earthy crackler somewhere in the chain, later deduced to probably be after the looper, but it wasn’t to be found. Fortunately, the interference it provided died away quite soon into the set. The chain was fed by some broody soprano saxophone lines and reverb-y guitar. There was a laptop providing some backup beef by way of rhythm, piano and drones. And the bass really hit the PA’s sweet spot. Rosie also sang, not something we have too often. The first song becomes unstructured quite nicely at the end, spoken vocals and surrounding sounds falling backwards into seascapes. The second song starts with a chiming guitar loop and vocals. The soprano makes a sorrowful appearance; sad and distant. The interleaving lines bouncing well together, then she’s back on the guitar for the remaining verses. Again the sea closes the song out. The computer decides otherwise and overrides that with a jaunty folk song. The sea however takes into the next song with a long harshly picked guitar loop and harmonica from an evening jailhouse somewhere. The guitar seems to turn into a dulcimer, tonally, to usher in the vocals. Then some monster bassline humps in, with a subtly ticking percussion. The guitar sings out. The final brief section is all about the low key backing track, all slippery backwards slides and bass and voice.
Bubble People has a teeny keyboard on a small flight case on the usual tables we have at the Rossi. He starts with a harpsichord-y line, again the bass is well tuned to the PA, and more singing! The harpsichord is like the lead instrument in the Get Carter soundtrack. He’s not afraid to turn everything backwards in the breakdown either. An evening for reversals and voices. There’s something of early 2000s loungecore turned in on itself about the first song. The second starts with fast arpeggios falling over each other in a psychedelic tumble, followed by a mutated Italo piano and some piercing space pads. The track seems to operate at three speeds, I’m reminded me of the confusion I felt the first time I heard “Playing with knives”; that sense of not quite knowing how it works. It falls into a 21st century breakdown: muted basslines and skittering beats, and delayed piano without that transition being remarkable. The third song is all sonic bass and imploding radiophonic swirls, and fast ticking beats with more vocals. The next track falls again into two speed slow motion, super slow basslines, superfast beats, and delay confused pianos and synth riffs. The final song is about a hundred-year-old tree being cut down. Starts with pings, tape spools and more delays before storming into a rave-up stab-y synth riff, the beat builds up slowly under it before the kick stomps in. the rhythm track plays due homage to the Detroit masters, little Flexatone warps and subtly timed snares and layered bass drums. A really nice set of 21st Century psychedelic techno.
We’re sorry to have to let you know that Graham Dowdall, aka Gagarin, died on the 16th June. He had been ill with cancer, and amazingly his last two shows in Brighton were while he was undergoing treatment, including this one for us back in April:
Teashape: Reeds & loops in an evolving narrative
Andrew Greaves: plays “a listener’s response to urban walking”