Tag: Lekemo

Terror tales from the groaning yurt

June 2026
The Rossi Bar

Marçal Xirau is set up in near darkness, no visuals, no stage lights, just the leaks from upstairs and emergency exit signs. He has a laptop and controller and is wearing headphones…. His set starts with heavily reverbed tuned percussive sounds playing a melodic part surrounded by swirls of feedbacking delay and the sea. It comes in surges, with hesitations between each wave. A sweeping electronic tone levels out the tidal attack, and we dip into a maelstrom of bass-y noise. This fades to reverb-y scrapes and voices, distant grinding slowly rolls up and we have gentle guitar strumming. A Theremin sound accompanies it.  Marçal  plays with delay on the voices abstracting them to chugging flurries. Ominous bass tones loom underneath and fade away. Then suddenly a blast of bass, a white noise snare rattles, and we get a syncopated squelchy bassline and mid-tempo half speed beat. Another flurry of snare, then a whirlpool of delay sucks everything in and we’re left with a chiming melody and shivering backing. It all gets a bit ‘disturbing fairground’ for a while and then it’s a subtle 4 to the floor kick and the general ambience is slightly spooky 60s library music. A sine bass, breaks this mood immediately followed by a slow pitch shifting rave bass. Then it’s back to the kick, and wordless vocals. It all gets a bit glitch-y to end that piece and we get a backwards something that builds into the next section. Zither continues the 60s feel, then we get into blissed out ambience, circling shiny drones, skittering pulses, full melodic string sounds, we get a bit of this before the bass drops, well into the subs. Tasty. It lumbers through the lower registers, head nodding. There’s some distant reverb machine drums working with the bass before it drops out again. The next segment starts with heartbeat bass drum, rattling hi hats alternating with snares, over this a nice layer of drones that modulate in and out of just raw enough sounds to keep it interesting. Occasional pulsations of bass. It thickens up; buzzes, whirls, bass whooshes then it’s down to a rumble for the final section. Percussive piano notes feed into delay shimmers, synth tones enhance. It’s the soundtrack to a beautiful, slow and slightly bewildering Science Fiction film, probably Russian.


Lekemo is second off the mark, his only kit a teenage engineering synth on a music stand in front of him. “Die Pig Die”, large bass, dubbed ticking drums, stabbing hits of tonal snare. Head-nodding tempo, a constantly shifting mix. Ah, this stab has turned into a sub, there’s a warble, the drums have gone. It’s all gone a bit ominous. 3 minutes, new track, buzzing relentless bass, dustbin drums, vocal jabber offbeat. A breakdown like someone’s broken into your set and tipped everything over. And then back to the pounding, and now just the bass and back to the pounding. There’s too much movement here and short tracks, the next has a sonar pinging top line and bassline like someone ripping your eardrums with a sharpened cardboard box. The breakdowns partially resurrect Mark Stewart before hurriedly burying him away again.  The next track has a digitally corrupt voice and some super sub bass, a two note buzz and slightly slower tempo. This one has a slurred bass line tracked by a distant container lorry and a melody line from a whistling jet fighter screaming overhead. This one comes in at gabber tempos , but the kick seems melodic, over it a chuntering metal guitar riff. Another is layers of “I will be president for many, many years to come” an anvil hit, “ya sexist shit”, buzzing and throbbing. Tasty. Generally it’s fast moving short blasts of electronic filth irrupting from mild mannered Lee and his tiny, shiny synth. High energy bass murk with lots of rasping and buzzing.


The last act of the evening is Leifert, originally from somewhere mysteriously European, now resident in the north of England. They are set up on stage with vocals, a laptop, a Theremin and a rather lovely old chrome plated synthesiser I’ve never seen anyone else use. Lots of pots. Lots. Enough fetishising old kit, I hear you say – especially if you’re not going to supply any details, get on with the description. Their set starts with a shimmer and spooky piano, the shimmer goes outwards into phased drones and strobed jitters and then evaporates into multi-pitched distant voice and walking synth bass. The next goes into detuned falling burbles and lop-sided fat bass with syncopating drums.  The vocals mention Monte Carlo, but this isn’t space age pop. There’s some nice naturalistic programming to the drum track – is that a pressed roll? They roll into the next track, that synth bass again, and nice pinging metallic sounds for the melody line. Some nice pitch bending beeps reinforce the vocal line; deadpan and wry. Some shimmer and the Theremin gets some action as we go into another track that starts with a big On/Off bass with a sequence that bounces around it in a variety of voices and a cat growl gnarling away in the background. The Theremin overlaps into the next track that starts with a bouncy bass, and swerving synth whirrs. The old synth gets a workout, with some nice filter work, bouncing off a 4 beat kick drum. The wordless vocals providing a drone like presence, the drums drop away for a lengthy breakdown on a pinging sound that filters through every kind of weird noise that the multi knobbed synth can give us – from bell-like clarity to slurred zushes, and grating pings. The next track starts with an alarming pitch bending bassline and gargling male voice. Switching back to Mia’s vocal it carries on alternating throughout There’s an insistent synth riff working away and a bee buzz fizzing around. There is some frenzied rhythm in the next track before we get into creeper mode with a stalking bass and drums, detuning drones and distant vocals and a key change for the chorus. It all nicely ends in fizzing.


 

Repetition not art

January 2025
The Rossi Bar

Starting the year with a drone we have McCloud+1 start with a sequence bouncing out of the Fort Processor Geoff flicking a torch across the its light detector for more or less subtle modulations, winds coming from the Casio slowly coming up, Lou sitting onstage backwards, out of site mustering half audibly in and out of earshot; “Change the noise” and a push of a button brings in a different Casio sound the taped down keys keeping the drone going. The Fort Processor starts to bite deep as do the winds, then flashing round the knobs brings a harsh noise element then wailing off into feedback. “Laughing Out Loud”. A two note bass drone sequence makes itself audible through the squall. Lou’s voice all but submerged. Bass drum steals in, and gone, back again, Hi-hat, delayed claps bounce around the room. Head nods, McCloud is off for a drink, hood up. We can hear the words again, the bass and beats integrate into something “Change The Noise” – again the Casio drones switch. Then down to just the bass and bass drum. A cavernous reverb for the bass drum to lose itself. Snare now bouncing around our heads, then out again for the hi-hat. A drum pattern is lost. “No borders”, The missing pattern is rebuilt when it comes round eventually again and again. Gurgling in comes the noise synth again, Pulsating with bass heaviness that drives the beats away. The winds are back, a flurry then a very nasty biting noise and foghorn drones nautically come in against the continuing wind and mess with it, ending in a thin whining drill that toys with idea of forming into notes then squeals off again into grating machine noise, a new droning bassline comes in eventually. To be matched by a head whacking dancehall bass drum and hard snare. There’s some playing with the resonance on the bass synth to get a counterpointing beep and whistle to the bassline, very much trying to channel Higashi Hiroshi’s delirious swoops from “Pink lady Lemonade”, there’s some nice pinging as the sweet spot on the filter is hit. Lou’s voice still coming in and out, half heard dream words. The clap unobtrusively chugging in the background then slowly steaming full into awareness, the bass drum gone, swooping continuing now all gone apart from the steam and the swoop…


Nuclear Whale next, starting with a different wind and an audible warning bell, delayed swoops of modular synth wash across the foreground, it’s like an escape from an alien internment camp, The Grey Area in audio form. A beeping sequence across bass booms, everything shifting relativistically; space burbles and melancholic Carpenter melodies. A slow drum steals in against the beeps the bass drum shifts from the fours to a lopsided stutter across the bars, the beeps start to vibrate and shimmer, I can hear a church bell in the distance. They always remind me of Rowan. We’re just down to the aliens interrogating the church organ – the bell puts up a struggle but is overwhelmed and lost. The country chapel fills with the green folk, a stone tape memory of a beat tries assert itself against the new congregation, there’s a pinging in the apse, muttering in the nave, everything indistinct and muted, filtering away until a springy synth emerges to bring us an insectoid interlude and the Tibetan monks in the monastery next door start to do their stuff. But they’re mutating too, buzzing, the chrysalids chirrup and chilling winds push us all outside. The fields flatten and the skies yellow, time slows. Vast doors open and we’re pulled into the vortex. Everything expands, everything thrums ecstatically. I try not to look at the vast churning machines, the jet engines roaring, machine saws going about their infernal work. Beeping at last brings some relief, but the machines are taking flight against the workshop’s giant automatons. Carpenter-esque arpeggios from the chapel organ invoke nightmare melodies that grow and envelop us in their dark embrace. A squelching Lovecraftian march in place of a beat, that dissolves actually into a beat, the alien-ness recedes. And sanity prevails. At least, that’s what happened to me.


And finally…. Its Lekomo, Lee’s first set at The Spirit of Gravity and we can’t believe that. He’s usually to be found running the monthly Sunday Machine nights at The Brunswick. But this Thursday he’s standing tall behind a speaker balanced on the usual low coffee tables at The Rossi with his Teenage Synths device perched on top. And it’s off to a thunderous start Lee nonchalantly boshes in a monster staccato unison bass and kick pattern, a counter patter of noise slices in and morphs into a bassline, the same noise slides in again, but this time continues to slip around the beat. He’s pretty dynamic with the mix, things dropping in and out slurs and tight repeats. The second piece starts with a monster continuous bass, and a pounding that runs and stops, runs and stops. “Agony, fear, Pain” switches to 4 to the floor, then back to the pounding. And so on. Its all very big a bit like Lee. Some squelching and grinding works its way into the mix. And before you know there’s a kettle whistle melody wormed its way into things as well. Just when you have a grip on it you realise the bassline is a slow 50Hz pulse shorting out your mental processing. The next track is all in, ticking toms, slow kick, lopsided bass whoosh line, some vocal indistinctness telling you what’s right, the bassline is supplemented by a lower level flapping bass tone that dries the speakers a bit wild. More energetic ticking. Its all a bit relentless now. Slippery, too. Is that Click or kick on the 8s? the its pitchshifting all over. It’s a kick in the head up to 16s, back to 8s. the bass is suddenly proper loud. “You will know I was written to delete you”. There’s something Carpenter-ish about the atmosphere. A brief return to the first track then industrial strength circular saw, train whee drums, something mot quite like a crunching guitar riff, hom, hom,    hom, hom,    hom, hom. Lee starts to wobble and we get a faster kick, a proper full on buzzing saw-tooth bass, he seems to programming something on the fly, a clacking slap round the head, 8 to the floor. Bassline like a Space Liner slipping past fast. Then on to another, and another the return of the circular saw, the trains, the trains… The next starts with an old hardcore riff, pounding gabba speed kicks and keeps running like that for a while. It keeps dropping down to the kicks, deliriously, it’s like having the prince of darkness biffing you upside the head. A tease to finish that one, and then a slow down for the final track. A slower bassline on the 8s, saw riff again, all lopsided this time. A clopping slow beat comes in, other percussion scatters and stammers around it. A bass counter point to the saw riff, it’s a hypnotic, pulsating ends to the set. We wobble and throb. Lee beeps in response. Sound effect techno.