To the grand surroundings of London’s South Bank for a reasonably dignified evening of techno improvisation and disco-textures. And Red Bull Music Academy has laid out the carpet for one of the daddies of Detroit techno. It is, therefore, only fair one pre-books their drinks for the interval and takes their seat for an evening of mastery and technique.
Looking not unlike a pair of jazz scientists, playing around in a lab of grand pianos and xylophones, Bugge Wesseltoft & Henrik Schwarz take the musical baton from each other – Bugge tinkles out some lounge jazz chords on one side of the stage while Henrik gets excitable in his cardigan and counterpoints it with beats and comforting acid house nuances.
It’s not unlike a modern version of how one would imagine the German arts lab scenes or the possibly heavily drugged 48-hour freak outs of the darker end of swinging London felt like in days of yore, yet thrillingly 21st century at the same time (man).
When they close their enchantment with a balafon and tenori-on duet, it’s actually quite sweet, and bookends our journey right there.
Matmos duo Drew Daniel and MC Schmidt (pictured) have been the perverse texturalists of sampling for a good decade now - for instance, their 2001 album A Chance To Cut Is A Chance To Cure was made up entirely of sounds obtained from surgical procedures.
They offer a pair of minds that enchanted Bjork enough to get them to layer their glitchery and all-round delicate doilies of electronic wisdom across a couple of her albums.
Drew announces, after the opening session of surgery-related gubbins, that they came from Baltimore through the worst snowstorm in 90 years to be here this evening. That’s commitment alright.
They then proceed to kick out the cosmic jams to unleash their cover of Terry Riley’s Sunrise of the Planetary DreamCollector, which weaves through twisted contorted bird song via shards of pure black metal, teasing the beat-hungry patrons.
Carl Craig is something of a God to most sane humans, who have gathered here to witness their deity have a freeform improvised techno jam.
With Craig positioned behind decks to tickle out his magic, Francesco Tristano is placed in front of a grand piano and Moritz von Oswald is looking like a holidaying Kraftwerk member in his cravat, throwing out dub-techno shapes.
It’s improvisational, but ultimately the rhythm is the king, and with a guest saxophonist honking along, this is a polite affair more in the classical jazz mould than a rave-up. However, it acts as points in an ongoing continuum that places techno firmly in the grand history of music.
It’s all very tasteful, and the RFH was the perfect host for something that may not work as well in some sleazy boogie bunker. Quite literally, spot on.
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