Category: SOG-BLOG

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.

Sunscapes

June 2024
The Rossi Bar

Nylon Prawn, Alistair & Nell, electronics & vocals, cornet & tap shoes! The first piece is largely radiophonic synth burbles blending with effected wordless vocal like whales singing to dolphins across vast distances. After a gasping peak it picks up momentum, tumbling away, and flattening out in breathy cornet flutters and synthful swirls. Nell gives a bit more form to her vocals for the second piece, and Al provides a disarming, warping synth sequence, all unlikely intervals, slurred and detuned, that slowly forms into a one note bassline with Nell singing over it. Drums. It becomes more insistent, hypnotic as it progresses, then slumps and boom: an evil bassline and a massive reverb-y kick stomp right in, Nell giving it blues diva over the top. There’s a nice quiet squelchy interlude with Nell back on wordless vox. A beep-y sequence starts that Nell interacts with very nicely that leads to another thump-y kick and occasionally bass tone. This warps into full on space vocals then a beat comes in, fully rounded, syncopated even. Nell bounces off it, scatting then gets back into singing mode again. The cornet gets some action at last. It swings round itself, in speared delays, bouncing to and fro.


Andrew Greaves was next up previewing his new album, our biggest selling physical format release (thumb drive). Against a firm wind Andrew starts with drones, drones that move into runs along the keyboard and back into drones. Beeping sequences spark off their heavily delayed selves, The beeps slow into a melodic line that via a grinding sound builds back into another bouncing sequence. Over this he runs a pair of melodic lines that eventually disrupt the sequences into minimalist basslines. Then again down into space whispers and mesmeric eastern scales. This third one is a slow builder, unfolding, slowly morphing as it progresses. Possibly the most complete piece of the evening, a hint of psychedelia and perhaps a touch of field recordings. And we finish on a very slow coda.


And for the evenings climax, Perry Frank with a very nice borrowed Vox guitar. He uses this and a synthesiser to feed an interesting effects chain. Preloading them with shimmering, pulsating washes. We can see some quite fast strumming or picking that results in a slow cascade of almost static tones. The first piece seems to have almost no dynamics at all, but manages to shift along quite beautifully. Sonically summoning up a cathedral cosmic vastness with slowly shifting shining notes winding through. As the first piece fades away we feel a pulse pushing through it, the guitar returns in crashing waves. A roaring full bodied crashing with a machine whining whirr pushing through. As the waves subside a drum track lumbers into consciousness and synth squalls cut into us. As it develops it conjures up images of a vast clockwork (yet vaguely organic) Godzilla. The volume drops down to a tense few minutes of uneasily quiet trilling. Distant shrieking metallic plates start us out of our reverie, a thrumming spaciousness of treble wrought from the guitar before he gets back to working on the tidal electronics. Again down to a gentle slowly pulsating guitar wash lapping rhythmically at the shore, that slowly evolves into a multi-layered drone – all light aircraft and light – to end. I haven’t really expressed how close your eyes and let it fill your mind beautiful this was. But it was.