Squarepusher & The Horrors - London Electric Ballroom - 26/10/06
4/5
By: Yousif Nur
Let's get one thing out of the way this very second. Hype or no hype, stylised or not, The Horrors are f**king awesome tonight. Coming across as a mix of The Cramps, Siouxsie & The Banshees, fifties rock 'n' roll and a lashing of Agent Orange surf rock to boot, they also attract mass appeal for those who miss and long for the return of 'Horse Of The Dog' era Eighties Matchbox B-Line Disaster, with their animated stage presence and dark yet animated demeanours.
'Count In Fives', 'Jack The Ripper' and live favourite 'Sheena Is A Parasite' recall much rockabilly swirled with loud organs fronted by a lanky, yet nimble Faris Rotter. Being a man of few words onstage, Rotter lets the music take control as he stage dives into the unsuspecting audience, one looking almost as if they were expecting a nice, quiet affair.
Well folks, Keane this ain't. Previous shows have a tendency towards lasting around fifteen minutes, simply put not because of their two minute tracks, more so because of riots breaking out and noses getting punched. Nothing to worry about here however, as their set clocks in at just under half an hour before walking off.
Chelmsford's avant-garde troubadour of choice; Tom Jenkinson aka Squarepusher (replete with two iMacs and a six-stringed bass) followed shortly, preceding what was quite possibly the most cringe worthy, embarrassing compere. 'This guy is the most elemental of elemental of musicians...' It gets a lot worse; 'Let's give a big shout so that John Peel can hear us up there!' If that wasn't bad enough, his family who organised tonight's billing were present amidst the crowd.
But we digress. Those uninitiated with Jenkinson's work should be shot. Why? Because Squarepusher on recorded output is something of a technological whiz, with his leanings towards progressive jazz and drum 'n' bass pushing far beyond the dizzying boundaries of common experimentation. Which way one particular track will descend to with goofy twitches and breakbeats no-one knows. We doubt even Mr. Jenkinson knows at times. All we know is that we're on a journey into the unknown, full of textured diverse pieces of epic splendour - on record.
Accompanied with his six-stringed bass, Squarepusher's set goes down to a mixed reception. The PA and mix was abysmal and the added use of bass can at times seem unnecessary rather than an asset towards the avant-garde tracks. A flash of white patterns on the screens is more transfixing and intriguing in what seems to end quickly.
Thing is, these genre-crossing compositions (let's not call these songs) leave us in bewilderment of what's coming next, which no-one really knows the answer to. All said, it's a mish-mash of flailing arms getting hyped up by the abstract beats, ablazed by ricochets of white flashes. Whilst the sound is lost in the mire, we're transfixed by flashing patterns on the screens, not entirely sure what's just happened to us.
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