From Adam Huffman Sent Mon, Nov 17th 1997, 12:20
(There are other elements to this piece, I should point out) There's something noble about traversing various Northern sectors for a night out. Equivalent possibly to the Travel Mantras daily enunciated by those London-living types. If there's something on in Sheffield I usually walk there, but more is expected if extra effort has been expended. In any case, taking advantage of some munificent offers, I was conveyed this most recent Saturday evening to Leeds University Union for an instantiation of the Planet Alice tour, sadly depleted to a small fraction of the original itinerary. The venue was your typical univ. shoebox, with the balconies closed off (that's where the decks and some of the lights were located) and various projections and sheets bearing 'art'. Oh yes, and there were some tree-things in the middle. Hmmm. When we arrived at around 9pm Simon Pyke was already playing. Shame there were so few people in as it was one of his better performances, I think. Sometimes I feel his work is too inward-looking, almost excluding the listener with its complexity but tonight the sound was very welcoming. There's great pleasure to be enjoyed when his tunes suddenly resolve themselves and you can hear where all the initial indications were leading. Some of my favourite Pyke moments have been his live appearances and this one ranked similarly. For a long time I've thought he has failed to live up to the promise of Elastic Speakers, which is a treat whenever I dig it out. Recent appearances on MaS and elsewhere indicate that he is building up to something, maybe. Following Freeform, Mark Broom played what you would expect him to. If your expectations comprise hard-ish minimal techno, that is. Nice stuff. Didn't recognise anything. The next live act was Spacetime Continuum, in this case Jonah Sharp on the buttons and a saxophone player whose identity is not within my knowledge sphere. This was quite strange - the only remnants of his ambient past were the synth wash intros to what were fairly sparse workouts, I suppose. He played an altered version of the single from the last album ( can't remember the name). There wasn't all that much to engage the listener although the live sax was quite good and certainly a more interesting visual spectacle than the usual bobbing heads. Quite good but I had expected something wonderful. Mark Broom re-appeared and again played a solid set - err, I can't remember much about that but I was tapping my feet with abandon. [At this point I shall mention the various stilted/costumed people who wandered around at intervals bothering the audience with their performances/enactments] [IDM celebrity spot: Gez Varley was pointed out to me] So, at around half-eleven Rob and Sean and started ministering to their machines. This must have been about the ninth time I've seen them and on every occasion it's been different. It can be frustrating as often you'd be happy with a straight recreation of an LP track at high volume in a darkened space, but they always deliver something far more interesting, more in keeping with the perhaps old-fashioned idea of a live performance. It's always fascinating to see how they work together - constantly manipulating their own domains and then having a little conference and off to their respective areas again. The first track was a comprehensive reworking of 'tilapia' from Cichlisuite (this fact wasn't clear until about 5 minutes in). Some really beautiful rhythmic elements, which reminded me of a newly-emerged insect trying out its wings. The kernel of the original song remained but it had been expressed with an entirely different sensibility. 'Yeesland' also appeared in a new mutation, or rather the second section with the extended chord sequence was the foundation of a new creation. This was reminiscent of the way I once heard them remodel 'nine' from Amber with the addition of an insistent beat. My guess at the next one was a dissection of 'goz quarter', but that was judging from one synth line which appeared like a chimera. The last track was possibly forged from elements of 'characi'. I think this was the one with the hilarious off-kilter beat. The first few kick-drum measures extracted miscellaneous yelps from the crowd but there was a devious pause at the end of the pattern sequence which almost threw the rhythm off totally. I grinned like an annoyingly-knowing blackguard while the crowd overlooked this wrinkle and made the best of it. Fanciful metaphors come to mind when I attempt to describe the Booth/Brown method, which is a sign that they have transcended the MIDI mundaneity which plagues much electronically-minded musicians. They have the confidence not to plough the furrow of least resistance and a singularity of vision which means they are able to give the audience something new. They cannot resist the little extra tweak which changes the whole. The audience in Leeds were really after something a little more easy on the digestion, if the reaction to Surgeon's following "big-beat" display was any truthful indicator. That's fine, but I felt I'd travelled to a musical Stone Age in comparison to what had just finished. So, quite good then. Looking forward, finance permitting, to seeing them at the next London Blech. adam