Tag: Dale Frost

This is what we do

February 2025
The Rossi Bar

Purely because of the logistics of fitting his drums and electronics on the small stage we start the evening off with perennial favourite Dale Frost playing a largely new set. The first song starts with vision On chimes ping in counter rhythms before the punchy drums kick in around them, a complementary beat. A mesh. There’s a couple of nice isolated drum breaks just before the chimes come back in. The second song is much more staccato, backing track with partial rhythms, drums filling some more. The occasional proper sub bass. The jigsaw nearly complete. About halfway through the song a pad comes in that seems to add completeness, but it still feels oddly half time. The third comes on like some oddly time-signatured dub track – the “delayed” piano then de-coupling itself to emphasise the off kilter beat. Flurries of hi-hat, weird percussive squeaks. Then a super slow bass note/bass drum gives it some bottom and possibly bringing it briefly back into 4/4 before it all goes a bit loopy again and speeds right up. The fourth starts with a slurred synth that is then triggered by the drums. Big bubbly synths surround it before we get a rattly snare heralding another tricky rhythm. Theres some great bits in this one as things drop in to come back in including a particularly delirious section of the bubbly synth and rhythms all working around each other before the drums stop and the synth spirals off into the heavens. Dale seems to be priming the synths and pads before this final track starts, then it kicks off with a walking bass and hi-hat stalking drums. After a while there’s some steel pan melody driving it on. We get some breaks to emphasise the synthiness before it all lifts off into D’n’B flight, the bass stretching, steel pans lifting higher and higher, another drop then it’s back into flight again, the drums doubling up in intensity, more counter melodies, back briefly to the original version, a grounding. A slow plod into an organ-tastic breather and then back into full throttle for the end.


In the middle slot we had Whitstable’s Sophie Sirota on viola and effects. She starts with some long notes drawn into new synthesiser shapes by the effects warping away, some plucked strings into decaying delay and the drawn bow alternating feeding into detailed layers of shifting something. Occasionally a tear of screaming distortion, a mutating murky backdrop of delay gives us a bed on which the rest of the first song is constructed, the way the main melodic part of the track warps from nylon to total artifice as the notes develop. With that main line going on she fills some trembling background into the looper before playing a longer melodic line against the first using the range of the instrument from whistling highs to almost cello-like swirling lows. The background swirls have mutated into ghastly whispers by now, she plays through the long melodic line again, but with delays spiralling sounds off it in all directions skilfully skirting feedback hitting that psychedelic sweet spot quite nicely. The second piece starts with the bow bouncing on the strings, feeding into the looper notes, clicks, laying down a bedrock. A succession of drawn single notes is fed into the looper as well, a second layer to slowly develop an overlapping chord. Its pretty static, some more unobtrusive layers sliding in, ghostly. That distortion that we heard briefly before is back, needle sharp. The repetition builds intensity until her lead line slowly emerges from the fog, melancholic & nostalgic before slowly letting the framing lines fall away from under it until all we’re let with is the pinging original rhythm line, choirs of angels and the viola’s melodic line and then it to is gone, dropping down to just the voice to end.


All electronic, Nanonic swirls in with a contact pad synth of extensive tonalities, some blistering swirls and deep, deep subs off into churning delay. Ghostly wails, hard whistling winds. Drops to beeps or lonesome foghorns. Distant gunshot snares herald a regular pulse and a frankly terrifying sub bass drone. A rhythm seems to coalesce, rattling chains envelop us, a bass line forms, other synth lines force their way in. cymbals, slurring delays. That aeroplane arpeggiator from dark side of the moon. Everything stalls. A distant door slams. Silence. The second piece starts with a slurring synth injected directly into a delay for maximum entertainment. Detailed layers of sound course out over us, spaceships shifting from some interstellar portal, Nick manages to evoke both 50s SF film soundtracks and the latest space music. Atonal beeps then shift us into a more structured (if seemingly semi randomly) segment that then leads into a pretty fast pulse beat. A great red noise snare sound. The rhythm disintegrates before our ears. The final piece is straight into the rhythm, a ticking of stick on metal hi-hat style, with rasping synths and pinging bass lines. Interlocking bass lines. Interlocking detuned synth noises. Delay chatter, a bass drum with a distinctly dancehall gait about its swing, if not the tempo. Some Cabs style reverb distortion, this could be something off a 21st Century Red Mecca. Everything here is in thrall to the rhythm. It ends with endless layering up, shrieks, machine thrums, feedback. Highlight. Nice.




The hottest show on record

June 2023
The Rossi Bar

We had a bonus guest tonight due to illness with a touring package due to play at The Bees Mouth, so we started off with M G Dysfunction, he was set up in front of the stage in a fine cowboy short and baseball hat, on a high stool. Which he soon abandons. It’s fair to say he splits the audience, and quite quickly. He starts with a nice piano tune, which he quite quickly annihilates with some hideous country style caterwauling. “Fuck the boys in blue”, I thought it was quite funny. That segues into a drone, moving into a grime inflected number. The backing track on the next one has something of Eno’s Discreet Music about it, and he talks over it about the moon & stars. Back into drones and a murky slow bass drum. Very slow. He sings again. Next one up is dedicated to all the Junglists in the audience, he makes some quip about Chocolate Monk that goes over everyone’s head. The tune has nothing to do with Jungle though. Some fat ugly bass drone, circular ranting. The noise rises up within it, ranting continues. This is my favourite part of the backing track. Juddering bassline, noise swirls through various delays, then a modern RnB backing that quickly tips back into the disgusting racket.


So first of the scheduled acts was the welcome return of Dale Frost, minimal drum kit, electronic pads, novelty cymbals (triple decker-ed, dimpled and warped or full of holes) and some other bits I couldn’t see. Starting with a shimmering roll on the synth triggering drum pads interspersed with occasional drums before he fires off a more familiar song set into the pads, is it sequenced, is it played. Both. Neither who knows. But holing down drum parts and synth lines Dale really pushes the idea of the independently controlled multi-limbed drummer to new lengths. It’s great to watch. The next track is more heavily into the beat, the synths more beeping rhythm lines weaving between the drums. Nice steps up when the beat thickens and the synths multiply with delays. The next track is definitely running off a sequencer. An odd whistly line giving way to a steel drum tick, bass drum on the fours. Then I’m not so sure about the sequencer, he seems to be playing the lines. Playing with my mind. Towards the end of this song he gets stuck into the hidden bits of kit, a keyboard and analogue delay, I’m guessing. One song has a nice one note bassline with some chunky stabs before giving way to something jerky that syncopates within a beat. The last song slows it down, with a nice fat bass and some pinging Tom Tom Club synth sounds. It slowly speeds up, the bass getting a bit rawer and groovier, other sounds trailing around it with a melodic synth line emerging in the firing chorus bits of it. And a big organ flourish to end on a high energy finish.


Then the return of f.Ampism, we had him booked in for one of the first shows after lockdown ended, in that spell of Will It Open Or Not. And it didn’t. But here we are now. He advises us to watch the projections rather than himself as he sets up some almost drones. There’s a bit too much going on to be actual drones, swelling, subtly shifting pitches, a hint of growled voice, a smidge of harmonium, a slowly unfolding melodic line that emerges gradually and slinks away. Its the sound of hot sun coming down through unruffled leaves, a hot still day, something stirs indistinctly in the distance. What it is we never mind. I’m drifting; open my eyes and 10 minutes has blissed, passed. Paul is working away, much more active than would be obvious, but the shifts are there, nothing is actually static even if you never noticed it change, it’s all different.  At some point he gets me up to muck about with the monitor and we get some extra modulating midrange reedy layers sliding into the mix. It’s now quite a think complex montage of sounds. Still quite precise and separate, everything pulsing and morphing in its own individual way. It reaches a crescendo but I’m too blissed out to really notice and stops.


Rounding off the evening we have Cornish (via London) artist Yiskāh. Carrying on where Paul left off with a somewhat more menacing drone. Under this she feeds in a vibrating thin whirr the drone starts to vibrate and branch off, into sub bass whoomf and airplane hum. A ghost of a wind sends its icy chill to taunt us. The PA is pushed about as Jess plays with the sonics of the room. A creeping sensation spiders its way into the stew. The sounds is solid, it’s not unpleasant enough to be HNW, but it has a similar monolithic indistinctness; a vast incomprehensibility where it just quietly fills your head and erases sense of time and place, gentle rather than roaring but nonetheless abstract and almost formless. There are touches of tone that emerge from the fog, perhaps slippery streams of feedback that evaporate as you start to latch onto them. Occasionally things in the room vibrate, shifting around as the pitches from the stage evolve. As it winds down, we’re left with the more pitched sounds; wind, a swirl of sea. Tyre on gravel. None of these things.