Tag: Ingrid Plum

From Heaven to Hell

August 2015
Green Door Store

Kuroneko

Kuroneko Kuroneko were first on, they were due to be augmented by a further player coming down from London, but she was stymied by the Tube strike. Fortunately Ruse23 was on a trip to the old home town so was down here early.

Russ, along with Paul Khimasia Morgan, Adam Lygo and someone I don’t know, step off from HRT’s invocatory setup, although only Adam sports a mask on tonight’s show (Ruse’s is taped to his setup), Paul also has a noise setup, the unknown has a synth and Adam twirls gurgling vocalisations around the room. It’s a tough thing to do well, HRT hedged their bets with black comedy, but playing it straight can be hard to pull off and I think they did. This was pretty scary stuff, you could practically smell the sulphur and see smoke forming in dark corners of the room, Adam’s voice travelling back through time.


Ingrid Plum

Ingrid Plum Ingrid Plum started with her pure voice, reminiscent of her singing in the tunnels at Newhaven Fort last autumn, almost designed to put us off the scent. She also had a cassette player with tones from a recent event playing back through a small (very small) Marshall stack. Almost a toy, but it had two speakers with very different tones and she also used a mic input into it that she used dexterously for tonal feedback. It’s a disarming set that skirts noise and fuses well with her vocal style.


Gagarin

Gagarin Gagarin played a great deal from his new CD, but with the bottom end extended into the depths allowed by the Green Door Store’s Bass bins, and generally toughened up. His visuals were a film of the New Horizons flight to Pluto from the NASA website slowed down to a virtual crawl. The album is a mixture of his field recordings (the Balham garden: birds, trains etc) and scattering rhythms. Not quite the same kind of London sound of his last CD, more like the abstraction of the touch cassette, with more skittering beats, lighter on its feet even with the extra weight of the soundsystem.