Tuesday, June 19, 2007  11:14 am 

The Sonar Chronicles pt I

One of your trusty 20JFG types went down to Spain this year for Sonar festival, Genuine ‘Certified badman’ guy by his side. The idea was to, after indie times last three Primaveras, get soaked once again in Barcelona’s sun, espresso overdose sitting idly in the terraces by the Ramblas and the innocent enjoyement of the warm friendship of far-away comrades. Ah, and to check out what’s going on with this dance ting.

The answer is: not much.

Guess I don’t understand the whole minimal techno thing or twitching your body spasmodically to a neverending song which wasn’t so interesting in the first place, when the sun came out on Sunday morning illuminating a scene worthy of a George A. Romero movie I prayed for oblivion, it was still a few hours away, and wished for Dj’s with broader range, but then everyone around me seemed to be enjoying the chemical utopia. And the Ed Banger tent was sort of lame, which was disappointing as, after reading a rather nice/convincing review of Justice’s christian album at Pitchfork, I was more than ready to leave my preconceptions-prejudices-aversion to copycat distorto pseudo-house beats aside and have fun prancing around with all the kids that wear trucker hats. Balls. It was sucky, not even pah, sucky…I’d rather enjoy myself than scowl at bad Daft Punk edits.

It was the people who weren’t really doing that much of a dance racket who made the trip totally worth it: geeks and b-boys, bass champions and creepy men with peroxide wigs, that’s totally where it was at. Sonar people, fuck dat mongy rave, take it further out, we’ll love you for it, although we guess it’s too late by now. And bring Green Velvet and Motor to the next one.

(photos below kindly taken from Sonar photo reports except for the Sunn O))) one which is from Stephen O’Malley’s page)

Sunn O)))

Or cloaked shadows lost in the bloody mist brandishing guitars like they were severed heads in front of a pyramidal stack of amps which vomited tectonic plates of noise folding onto themselves like leviathan trying to devour its own turgid and bloated intestines, a faceless blonde figure swirls raising its claws in the air, a squealing demon pig and a hellish dirge of cracks and creaks, the symphony of horror those poor sailors must have heard as Count Orlok preyed on them in the midst of the darkest storm of the soul. If you were wondering about the sound of that void of cosmic horror H.P. Lovecraft so accurately reported in his manuscripts, you need but to visit Sunn O)))’s Mass of badness next time it comes near your town, or perhaps not, if you’re of a faint-hearted countenance.

Sunn O)))- It Took the Night to Believe

Beastie Boys

Soooo…Beastie Boys played too much post acid jazz for my taste, including what seemed to be most of the Sounds in From the Way Out, and some tracks from the new album which again, didn’t really register. But who cares, these just felt like calm interludes between the fierce lightning bolts off that old school rap/bubblegum hardcore shitstorm in which we spent our teenage years, electroshocking blast from the past, didn’t remember I remembered the lyrics, Oh my God it’s the funky shit.

Mike D looked the part on his shiny suit and afro, kinda Ian Svenonius vs Bart Simpson, and Mixmaster Mike killed it on the decks, re-building the classics on top of some foundational block rocking breaks. They did of course play Root Down, but since we’re sure y’all know it, here you have a perhaps more obscure threatening remix with drama pianos by the prunes, included in the Root Down ep, check out the killer bassline in the breakdown, and roll.

Beastie Boys-Root Down (Free Zone mix)

Skream

Every single wobblying cobra to come out of the bassbins at the Dubstep arena bit neck & pump poison, Skream rocked it with a murderous techno-infected dancehall snake n shake set, paranoid bass terminators wobbled brains inside craniums and threw hands up in the air POW, every single depth charge planned strategically to bring down the house with extreme prejudice, our sceptic attitude became sweaty enthusiasm as dubplates lashed and coiled wild, rinsing, napper!

Skream- Make Me

To be continued soon with another 3 winners from Sonar, wacky sentences and much much more, hum, or meebe not, we’ll see.

*****

Then, stuff to do in Brighton (which this humble scribe shall miss being as he is in Spain with a lovely siamese henchcat sitting by the side aww, youse who don’t have such excuses just be good and attend)

Tomz! Craft Night at the Pelirocco Hotel!

Thursday! KIT and the Sticks at the Cowley Club!

Tis what we said about KIT in a very feline context:

”KIT sound like that corageous bunch of kitten who threw a plugged toaster on the bathtub while the nasty witch of the north was resting in a miasma of pestilence (on a break from doing evil deeds against the good peoples of the forest), they deliver anthemic riffage which tickles your neck like the tail of vintage deerhoof strutting behind your back while you read some Ursula Leguin, and clicks clicks clicks silver heels on the dancefloor with the non chalant devil may care propulsive power of Mika Miko trying to latch onto the untied cords of those old chucks”

So don’t miss em pirates.

labels >> crossbones, geeks, party politics, skulls, sonar