I began my night at Bottom of the Hill, waiting for Glaciers to take the stage.
A-ha! Here we go!
Some tuning, some electric loops, a big honkin'
Marshall stack, an Orange stack powered by a Sun (((0))) (no, not the
fellows of “Monoliths and Dimensions” fame) amp feedage, Dennis
Remsing's rapid yet calm control shaping of the rhythm groove, add
some deep resonating bass and we're off to sea. With a sound piercing
enough to sink a fleet of Titanics, I am proud to report that these
brave men delivered an apocalypse I had been waiting to hear all week.
With mammoth whale sized waves of grilling guitars; they made grandiose
movements amid a raging sea of adorning fans. Glaciers' gave us a
structuralist hope in the notion that post-rock can be more than
disjointed noodling. To have witnessed something this voluminous in
sound and syntax, I consider myself very blessed indeed.
Off to the Swedish American Music Hall to see Nurses and John
Vanderslice for a bit. While the lovely resonance of Mr. Vanderslice's
voice and subtle yet beautiful accompaniment was the cat's pajamas for
sure, Four Tet at the Independent awaited.
Fed up with waiting for the 22 line bus that never came, I
hiked through the Duboce Triangle in search of he who calls
himself Four Tet. Made it inside the Independent with success and drink
tickets. The great thing, besides the electric light show, that moves
me about this man's work is the Indian and western rock percussive
samples that are warped and realigned within an astute arrangement of
keyboard sequences. Sometimes you feel as though you are in the space
ship surrounded by beeping red, purple, and blue buttons.
Other times
Four Tet assembles organs and looping sustain effects to mimic that
strange bridge between waking life and the unconscious. Some of his
chimes samples resounded through the past, shimmering as if lifted from
Shuggie's ubiquitous “Strawberry Letter 23.” And then, it was over.
That is until he came back with a rousing encore that finally got these
wheelbarrels of irie white folks dancing. He played with the pitch
to maximum effect for some tricky track transition. The grand finale
sped the glitchy effects into a gabber frenzy before the lights faded
the scene in a blue glow. A dramatic, yet appropriate way to end an
incredible IDM set. And after one last sip of my Fernet, I'm taking
that same 22 bus on home. Until tomorrow, my friends.
