Category: SOG-BLOG

Wringing loose the tiny titans

September 2024
The Rossi Bar

Armatures started the first track with watery whistles and strings before long bass vibratos tucked in under an arpeggiated piano. Moving on with staccato piano and noises which nearly get overwhelmed by this vast squelching noise that mutates as it sounds into liquid mud. The third track segues straight out of that with an Orbital-ish repetitive stabbing, eventually joined by synth-y water and  a half time kick. The drums get all glitched and we get a bit of filter on the synths. The fourth starts light, interweaving high synths pinging about, featherweight pads swirl and a fast beat kicks us off into space, planets spin past… mmmm arpeggios breakdown, then it gets a bit tougher, filtering and such, harder sounds. More pinging arpeggios and strings on the fifth. The sixth starts again watery this time aquatic piano, bubbles and an emerging rhythm track that dances around the synth  parts and the rhythm., before a stammering pointillistic superfast synth part. The final track starts with wind synths, seagulls, and a deep Edgar Froese arpeggio and string synth combo. Nice. Mid-tempo, a breakdown brings in the drums, some really great development on this track and a great rounding off for the set.


Due to stuff we had a bit of a sneak preview of the start of Yewen Jin’s set as a line check, but that didn’t matter, as it meant we got to hear it twice. She starts with nicely textured drones and a very digital sounding synth taking a bagpipe like line around it swirling up and down through several octaves. There’s repletion, almost, things drift, the drones slowly move in pitch and timbre, the synth line misses notes. Add new ones. Splits notes. Almost merging with the drone and shooting off again at tangents. The drone hitting a churchy tone. A single not leads us out of this, passage, then does that same thing of sliding up and down its melodic line, a melancholic counter line, low, reflects back weeping. Some mutating bubbling bass monster comes up inside this sound – dragon in a cave-like, the melodic lines get subsumed by abstract beeps and detuning tones. Suddenly there’s reverb and cavern feelings. And amazing levels of sub-bass. For something that comes across as simple superficially, there are amazing levels of sonic detail. Rumbles, pencil swishing, reverbs and slapback delay. Swipes, bells. There’s a lengthy passage of chiming piano.  More detuning synths, some kind of tacking machine, melodic burbling delay feedback. There’s some weird point  where Ennio Morricone gets munged with John Carpenter in a nightmare fairground. Her set ends on drones then Casio notes and delayed synth meeps.


And rounding off the evening we had Bantu, Gary testing out a new set and some new kit for a show in Finland. It’s a pretty low key start, some whirring, some humming, he has a bell which he processes and loops through the synth, there’s a slow bass drum that slowly fades up and modulates into a tone, then back again. Other synths spin off, some radio interference, delay whirrs, horror sounds, chirping. The first half of the set continues like this, that pulse that goes through the whole thing morphing away, sometimes fading to nothing, but always seemingly returning. There’s a lot of space, and not much bass. Odd radiophonic interludes of clanger conversation take over, watery burbles, robot dogs barking. Slowly it gets more structured, a stepping fuzzed synth line build in intensity, getting thicker and noisier, faster and more intense. There’s a short break and we get a perhaps more usual “Bantu” set of tumbling basslines, thick and raucously burbling away, the final piece starting again as some nightmarish radiophonic set of beeps and tones that slowly takes on more and more disturbingly loud forms, some ghoulish humming and resonance whistling. Emerging from inside this we get some hard bass tone slapping, everything converging into the upper registers for the end.




Circulatory somnambulism

August 2024
The Rossi Bar

Marienbad
Someone in the audience described them as like being tuned into every radio station in the world at once. It certainly starts with a static-y screechy pulsating loop, dial spinning shortwave blasts of voice and tumbling notes. There’s a constant shift, one second glitching repetition , the next a spool spinning churn through the entire universe. And just as you’re used to that they’ll settle on something, letting it run for a while doing its thing – whatever that is – before disrupting it with squeaks or burbles or a shard of noise, a spurt of tone. It all sounds very tape based but is in fact sourced off a laptop. There’s even a short burst of “The BBC has shut down” sinusoidal tone, which they are far too young to actually know first hand. For a brief period we actually have a rhythm, a pseudo repeating pattern of bass drum, beep and grind. The set ends with a call to revolution.


MelJoann
Plays another intricately arranged AV set, integrating inspirational videos from her Mustics wellness cult into backing video for the songs. She also plays a keytar for part of the set. The songs are a mix from her past centring around “Assfuck the boss” from her first album “HR”, we’ve got a couple from the as yet unreleased new album. The second Mustics break channels the 80s adverts from the Sigue Sigue Sputnick album really nicely (the drum sounds and stabs are amazing). Mel looked confused when I mentioned this. Anyway if you haven’t seen MelJoanns disturbing RnB nightmare of modern life I really can’t describe it – I’ve tried and failed the last two times she played – watch the video.


Simon Pyke – Four Flex
Interesting software, it would have been good to have this displayed on the projector. Not Ableton, that’s for sure. Before his set he has something odd just shifting about in the air for about 15 minutes. Then his set proper starts. Beats, 4/4. Loops as texture, wind whistling witters. An odd take on techno, based on repeating sounds and textures: field recordings, tones, delays. Clatters in vast rooms. Vamps. La Dusseldorf in a new context. Some interesting use of pure sounds being wiped around the ears. The beat is front and centre, but there’s some really odd things going on around that, then you get some “nice” keyboard parts that distract you from the odd choirs, and tortured sea-life. The white noise slurs, and peculiar bass tonalities.




It’s all part of the selective unconsciousness

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.




Graham Dowdall aka Gagarin 01.08.54 – 16.06.24

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:
Gagarin Live at The Spirit Of Gravity April 2024 – YouTube

We first met him in January 2008, when he played for us at “The 3 & 10” in Kemptown, during one of our lower points in terms of audience numbers, but something clicked and he returned many times as both a solo artist, as part of Roshi (feat Pars Radio) and in a duo with David Thomas in a special show at The Coach House in Kemptown.

Anyone who chatted to him at one of our shows will know what a lovely man he was, and considering how much cool stuff he’d done, remarkably humble. We’d recommend reading this interview with him:
bassmidstopsandtherest.substack.com/p/no-18-graham-dids-gagarin

Then check out his last album, including a track written up at Stanmer Park during the Sound Plotting event…
Komorebi | Gagarin | Geo Records (bandcamp.com)

It’s really upsetting to lose someone like this who still had a lot to give, he was already working on his next album, and an autobiography that would have been hilarious & endlessly fascinating.