Part of Domino Records’ show-off series, this was always going to be an indulgent affair.
Max Tundra, who demands respect in my book for his unconventional gear-shifting sounds and home-spun attitude to making them appeared on stage with apparatus including rhodes, guitar, melodica, mini-plastic xylophone, a micro-keyed yamaha keyboard and an obscure miniature synth. In the first of many “I could do that” moments of the night he then, inches from my face, proceeded to sing and play along to (what appeared to be DAT) backing tracks of the manic beats from 2001’s Mastered By the Guy at the Exchange. His vocals were not much cop, but (for a man who proceeds to teach himself all the instruments he ever uses on record) his fluid keyboard line-juggling skills and infectious attitude impressed to make up for that. More impressive were the vocals provided by his “best-friend and sister” (yes, really), who looks remarkably like a plump version of someone I know, and their comedy duets were quite touching. Still a dearth of new material was obvious. I hope he hasn’t gone all apathetic on us.
After a brief spliff and wander around a funk-infused dancefloor, I saw two unassuming middle-aged men known as Mouse on Mars ascend with a kinky array of machinery – TB909, Kaoss Pads, laptop, a variety of vintage effects pedals and a mixer. They then proceeded to test out the audience’s tolerance of sampled feedback before weaving a rusty sonic tapestry out of backlogged beats and fingertip sampling. With bass frequencies becoming demanding on the ear I grimaced through the hour, becoming more and more engrossed in the associated knob-tweaking in the spirit of one demanding justification for progressively adventurous and ostensibly directionless excursions. Still, certain parts of the proof were obviously purely for performance.
The ensuing Four Tet, meanwhile, misleadingly consist of one bloke with a couple of laptops and a mixer. Looking like a crossbreed of Lurch from the Addams Family and Jimi Hendrix, Four Tet is not the most streamlined of figures, but then, as his parents were rather conspicuously in attendance, apparently he is adopted. Judging by loops invoking too few sparks of variety, I began to suspect his origins as the product of some estranged military experiment to inflict boredom on enemy ranks. Engaging grooves such as Everything Is Alright are fair enough, and the live incarnation involved some evocatively overdriven bass, but the overall sway of the set was soporific. Invigorating forays into jungle and breakbeat initially relieved, before becoming additional incarnations of tedium. The technique with the ‘tops involved much alternation clicking: selecting and deselecting part of a waveform on one – which appeared to add tinnitus-inducing samples over the backing track – and tweaking a selection of softsynths (including the SVGA blue and orange livery of a Waldorf) on the other. The avant-garde muso crowd assented nodding agreement all around me, but all I was encouraged to do was look at my watch. Still, it was worth staying to the end if just for the timbre of his initial ideas, and the fact that he keeps things short on record is a point in his favour. D.Rose
- Filed in music and live-music under Four Tet,Mouse On Mars,Max Tundra
- Add your comments...
- Permanent link to this entry: Four Tet, Mouse On Mars, Max Tundra - The End London (17/10/2003)
Comments for "Four Tet, Mouse On Mars, Max Tundra - The End London (17/10/2003)"
Commenting is now closed for this article