The Chemical Brothers ventured to McCarren Park in Williamsburg the evening after their sold-out show at Hammerstein Ballroom. Although Underworld’s performance at Central Park two weeks prior had its nostalgic musical moments, The Chemical Brothers delivered a far superior show that wasn’t as rooted in the past.
Opening with “Galvanize” (featuring sampled vocals by Q-Tip), the Brothers embarked on a two-hour rollercoaster ride that was chock full of beats and breaks and nothing short of thrilling. Unlike Underworld’s set (which was plagued by too many lulls in their attempt to try out unknown new material), the Brothers programmed their performance like the tightest DJ set and kept keep the crowd in their grasp. Working behind a turret of machines as breathtaking, sometimes disturbing visuals floated behind them (the sinister clown was downright scary!), they weaved in and out of songs with aplomb and weren’t afraid to offer rousing new renditions of even their most popular songs. Aside from pumping a few fists in the air and gestures to the crowd, the Brothers—Ed Simons and Tom Rowlands—didn’t offer any meaningless crowd banter. They didn’t have to.
After the sexy “Do It Again” oozed out of their sound system, they segued into “All Rights Reserved” (featuring samples from Klaxons) and belched a truncated, housed up version of “Out of Control” (featuring vocal samples by New Order’s Bernard Sumner) that packed enough bass to make Danny Tenaglia grin. In the end, The Chemical Brothers outshined their fellow countrymen’s attempt and proved why they’re the best electronic band in the world.
Having interviewed A Guy Called Gerald a few weeks ago for the Issue 18, I decided to go and see the man play. It has been quite some time since I witnessed his masterful use of all things electronic, so the chance to see him at an open-air free party to celebrate the closing of an exhibition of urban artwork by the Back Jumps crew, seemed like a golden opportunity not to be missed. I was sure as hell right!
As the sun began to set and we wound our way through the backstreets of Berlin’s coolest and most diverse area, Kreuzberg, we could hear the bass of a sound system. Passing kebab shop after kebab shop, winding between mothers pushing three prams each and narrowly avoiding contact with untold quantities of cyclists, we stumbled upon a bronze fountain that depicted three firemen shooting their hoses into the air. This signified the beginning of the park in which Bethanian Art House stands. The former hospital is one of many buildings converted to useful studios for artists of all types. Painters, DJs, bands and photographers share the vast space adorned with bright yellow walls and sterile floors.
At the edge of Mariannen Platz, we still can’t see the source of the now audible music. After a minute of stalking through the trees we see a small tent sheltering two tables staked with samplers, laptops and turntables, and a group of a few hundred people littering the natural bowl that the ground cuts. Fortunately, we arrived just before Gerald was about to go on, so we take a moment to view the art work, before retiring to the bar, where a man offered us a sip of some liquid from a hollowed out watermelon.
A refreshing cool beer and a shot of un-poisoned vodka did the trick instead. By now, a number of people have begun to move towards the previously isolated tent in the centre of the bowl, and a few begin to dance.
Gerald brought his big smile and mastery to the floor just after 8:30 (he left his headphones at home, so a friend had to run and get them, I promised I wouldn’t say that, but come on, it’s quite funny…). He began his set with a pounding, atmospheric track that instantly leveled people before following the grove and gradually building the fever inside those who are willing to dance before midnight (no one left 1:30am).
The grass of the bowl rocked to the stomping feet of men, women, and a number of children who live in the houses surrounding this parkland. Let us not forget that this is happening in the middle of a city, and ther are no police visible, not one security guard, and, for that matter, not a single annoyed resident. There is indeed no aggravation of any form either. No fights, just everyone having a good time and going about their evening. A group of Turkish families are having barbeques 50 yards away.
Here’s an exclusive: On October 6th (my birthday by the way, feel free to send cards and money via Big Shot), A Guy Called Gerald will take part in an event in Corsica Studios, London. Located under the arches of Elephant and Castle, he will, for the first time in over ten years, join forces with Graham Massey. For those of you too young to remember, this means a reunion of the band that gave us the immense “Pacific,” Manchester’s very own 808 State. (OK, so they are one guy short, but he never really did much anyway!). The Wang club night that hosts this event has built up a quality reputation over the years, and is now looking to add to it with this incendiary combination.
Words & image: Oliver Guy-Watkins
Perhaps it was the season or the evening itself, but Carl Craig’s Demon Days party at Studio B in Greenpoint, Brooklyn last Saturday was poorly-attended. The last New York installment of Demon Days in January, also held at Studio B, was a jam-packed, sweaty synth throwdown inside the club, but a brittle and snowy evening out of doors—the disconnect made what was happening inside that much more of a fantastic experience. People were dripping in perspiration, losing themselves in nearly five hours of Carl Craig’s lush yet slamming sounds while the streets were still and almost without sound.
The air was temperate this past Saturday, though, and roof parties as well as other shows seemed much more the night’s agenda. Too bad in some ways, but not too bad—Craig and his openers were not in top form.
Opener Co-headliner Mirko, one half of Yugoslavia’s Switzerland’s Lazy Fat People, seemed like he was a bit overwhelmed at first; his mixing a bit unimaginative and without proper peaks and valleys. As much as I love Ricardo Villalobos, to play two of his most popular recent works seemed a bit without merit; in other words, DJs of the world, please stop playing the “Sinner in Me” remix; it’s over-played and appears a bit lazy to a crowd, at this point. Other than certain missteps here and there, though, Mirko was doing really well by the end, playing more banging takes on the Border Community style and getting the crowd frothed up for Carl Craig.
It seemed like Craig was running on automatic. Sure, I’d rather dance to Carl Craig on automatic than a lot of DJs when they’re truly tearing it up, but it was hard not to notice the lackadaisical nature of Craig’s set.
Here is where things get complicated: Craig played his usual pulsing, elegantly swirling set of Detroit techno, but like Mirko, it seemed like he was a bit lazy with his mixes; there were few beatless moments of hand-raising synth heaven, and a bit too much bias towards summer hits like Audion’s “Noiser” and Craig’s own current remixes. I want to be careful to point out that this is not an entirely bad thing: the Faze Action “In the Trees” remix and Siobhan Donaghy “Don’t Give it Up” dub are slamming, hypnotic pieces of techno mastery. What was disappointing was that all of these great tracks were just shoved together and weren’t allowed any room to percolate, which was a bit strange given Craig’s propensity for a more expansive sonic palate in his sets.
Craig’s set at the previous Demon Days was a cornucopia of sound, ranging from new minimal tracks to the most soulful diva house to pure moments of vocal bliss. On Saturday, however, it seemed like Craig was running on automatic. Sure, I’d rather dance to Carl Craig on automatic than a lot of DJs when they’re truly tearing it up, but it was hard not to notice the lackadaisical nature of Craig’s set.
A really wonderful DJ set needs many different things, and I believe that one of those is variety. I can get down to non-stop banging techno as much as the next clubgoer, but I like some palpable drama and surprise as well. I adore good kills and fades, and believe that long stretches without explicit beats are some of what help build the mountains that techno tracks can become in a club setting. Additionally, I like hearing astounding tracks that I don’t know as much as those that I do know. While Craig and Mirko certainly brought some great beats with them to Studio B, their arrangement was a bit sleepy and unsubtle. Mirko’s work with Ripperton in Lazy Fat People is quality stuff, and I would jump at the chance to see Craig do a set again, but next time, I hope that he can make me sweat to a more flavorful sound.
words & image: Thomas Rees
Clarification: Demon Days co-founder Gamall was the opening DJ for the night.
Which, What, This, That and The Other is how Bonnaroo named its stages six years ago. Now those words have become more of a mantra for the whole experience. The New Orleans-based creators of this giant Tennessee tent party have sought to keep the lineups as diverse as possible, This year’s lineup brought a slew of first-time acts out to play the 600 acre site in Manchester, Tennessee.
Friday afternoon offered eight bands I wanted to see in as many hours: The Cold War Kids, (who will tour with the White Stripes this fall), The Brazilian Girls, Tortoise, and Michael Franti were all out in the tents, while The Roots and Manu Chao were all playing the main stages before the sun went down. After some technical difficulties during sound check, the crowd at Manu Chao was already jumping before he took the stage. The only show I liked more was DJ Shadow’s. He began by explaining that everything about to be heard was something he created, a good bit was from his 1996 album, Endtroducing. The massive screen behind him projected some of the weekend’s best visual displays. It was a big second day, full of big and bigger performances with plenty of things to do in between.
The comedy and film tents, as well as the jazz lounge, offered an enjoyable air-conditioned escape to fans who fought the miserable heat and dusty conditions. On top of the day’s incredible musical lineup there were performances by comedians David Cross and Lewis Black. Somehow the festival setting provided for a wealth of new material, which may not work elsewhere.
The press conferences were good for a laugh as well. Mixing up the artists with a huge representation of media got mixed results, The Friday panel featured an interesting assortment including Lilly Allen, Quest Love, Nathan Willet from Cold War Kids, comedian David Cross, and others. Cross made his dislike of hippies clear, while ?uestlove from The Roots, said they pay his bills. All stereotyping aside, the press tent offered artists a chance to weigh in on the impact of the weekend. Wayne Coyne of the Flaming Lips discussed the role music plays in bringing people together and described the communal benefits of the whole affair as being, “actually worth [the hazards involved].”
On Saturday, I had three interviews with artists who hadn’t quite made it out to the site. The shaded area behind one of the press trailers I found was crucial. Chali 2na and Mike Relm were both relieved when they saw my private and shady confines behind the monstrous What stage. The heavy vibes emanating from Ziggy Marley’s made for an extra chill interview setting during my rap with Chali 2na. Both he and Mike Relm were excited to be there and looking forward to checking out some music.
The Police headlined Saturday night and opened with “Message in a Bottle.” I couldn’t hang with the enormous crowds and chose to listen to the rest from camp. My neighbors were the Hunab Kru Breakdancers and Asheville Brewing Company, a combo which made the perfect spot to relax before the late night shows. Lateef mentioned he’d be available to talk between his performances, so I caught his set with the Mighty Underdogs (Gift of Gab and DJ Headnotic) just around midnight. Fellow Bay area MC’s Boots Riley and Lyrics Born also shared the stage at the hip-hop garnished Galactic show.
Sasha played an incredible show last year and topped it by bringing John Digweed this time around. Their nearly five-hour set thumped straight through till sunrise, with an enthusiastically demanded encore. Needless to say the two DJ’s appeared to enjoy it, smiling all night and even taking pictures during their set once the sun came up.
Sunday was ridiculously hot, and I paced myself for the White Stripes show. It was the first time I’d seen them and, in my opinion, they gave the best performance of the weekend. People climbed fences just to get a better look and steady stream of crowd surfers going up into the air. They played songs from their new album such as the title track, “Icky Thump” and a great version of “Blue Orchid” before a slower version of “I Just Don’t Know What To Do With Myself.” The duo’s 90 minutes on stage was heavy and hard hitting rock that will have people talking for years to come.
