Supersonic Festival - Birmingham – 21-23/10/11
4/5
By: Josh Daniel
Set around the Custard Factory in the centre of Birmingham, Supersonic promises an eclectic line up of avant-garde, free jazz, various noise artists and laptop beat enthusiasts. There is a curt sincerity, or seemingly genuine righteousness in its own free-thinking experimentalism. Nondescript visuals of psychedelic colours, random horror movies and (possibly) Windows screensavers needlessly accompany most performers, but the music itself is challenging, loud, and almost always a surprise. Not something you'd get from most other British festivals.
[SECRET CHIEFS 3]
Drone tuba duos and looping electronica make uncomfortable bedfellows alongside the exploratory guitars of Secret Chiefs 3 and 'heaviest band in the world' Electric Wizard (is that measured on sound or weight?). Whoever aligned experimentalism with formulaic heavy metal? They exist in different worlds. That's not to say they can't co-exist peacefully. If anything the Capsule-curated programme is refreshingly skittish. It just felt like the metal was shoehorned in. Electric Wizard put on a good show but absolutely nothing about it pushed the boundaries, or challenged any received notion of rock music. It was merely very, very loud.
[ELECTRIC WIZARD]
By now you're probably thinking I had an awful weekend, but you'd be mistaken. Eternal Tapestry, Agathe Max, Pharoah Overlord, Bardo Pond, Drum Eyes and a.P.A.t.T. all managed to counteract the other, less incendiary acts with engaging shows.
[a.P.A.t.T.]
Friday's opening act, a.P.A.t.T appear on stage, dressed in white uniform, staring intently into the crowd. Like Drumeyes who'd play later, their energy and enthusiasm perfectly accentuated the music itself; bouncing, tripping along, loud, quiet and childish. Talking gibberish, swapping instruments for fun, dancing like your Dad and generally fart arsing around, it somehow all made sense.
[PART CHIMP]
They were followed by the busy, but unmoving Part Chimp and Mike Watt's determinedly idiotic ramblings, like some insane rock obsessed Willian Shatner gone wrong. Secret Chiefs 3’s playfulness was OK for a while but they took their time to get going. Their outfits disguising a mundanity to the first half of their set before they warmed up and played anything with gusto. Flitting between genres it all went over my head. All in all, an underwhelming first night.
[AGATHE MAX]
The different venues or stages, including a theatre showing documentaries on the history of punk and DIY culture, each had their own personality. The Old Library, a spacious, high ceilinged room played host to violinist Agathe Max on the Saturday. I was told she was a “violin shredder” but this isn't strictly true. Her relatively gentle sound is more attuned to a slow, orchestral crescendo. Alongside the (thankfully) apt visuals of a lone string player surrounded by a ghostly image of an orchestra, I was lost in the waves as she crept towards the climax. Beautiful harmonies and a brooding discontent made for an intriguing listen, despite her demure presence. The music developed softly, and evoked anything and everything.
This is more than I could say for Backwards and the Mike Curley Ensemble, who both put their own cases forward for redefining music, devoid of any melody or harmony. Both were unlistenable, each with their own needless saxophonist seemingly hell bent on making a godawful racket. I lasted about 30 seconds of the Backwards set, their mad mixture of metal, improv-sax and screaming typifying the weaker side of Supersonic. Mike Curley's Ensemble at least had some apparent musicians, but they were enjoying themselves far more than anyone else in the room. The security guards looked absolutely bemused. I think I lasted 3 minutes. I was very generous with my time.
[BARDO POND]
Bardo Pond were an impressive act though, playing in Stage 2, the largest of the venues. It might not have been the most active show (as everything seemed after a.P.A.t.T.), but singer Isobel was sultry and captivating. Her pure, unfettered vocal making an enjoyable clash with the slow motion, apocalyptic guitars surrounding her. A melody! At last! In the post-industrial landscape of dark jackets, decaying brickwork and encroaching night, they were a colourful surprise.
[PHAROAH OVERLORD]
Lucky Dragons had their own version of a Science Museum exhibit for sight affected children later that night. It wasn't much to write home about, just a mildly perplexing experiment in AV. Pharaoh Overlord on the other hand wowed a much larger crowd with their confident, Neu! infused stoner rock marathons. Standing proud, like statues lost in rhythm (who’d been watching long enough to know better than to ever move), they captivated the crowd with every minimal, effortless addition. Finally a band with limits, still willing to push, looking for a space here, an unfound note there and explore.
Making my way towards Birmingham on Sunday, I overhead an exchange on the train. “Japanese harsh noise...?”, read aloud one festival goer, thumbing through his programme. “Let’s definitely see that!”, replied his friend. I'd been duped in a similar way the previous morning. With a promise of 'electronica' I was confronted by an inexplicably high pitched static scratch from the limp, unimpressive Berg Sans Nipple that didn't deviate or evolve. It just insisted. As I pondered their folly, one of the air conditioning units began to emit its own inimitable screech, malfunctioning ever so slightly. “Somebody fix that, quick”, said the programme carrier, “It's driving me crazy.” Had the faulty air-con been under the banner of 'performance art' I wonder if they'd have felt differently. I foresee the air-con being booked for next year's festival, complete with bombastic mini bio: “Industrial machine obsessed act from Japan. He travels only by sea. Like his homeland bullet train, he flies along at 200mph with unapologetic, steadfast emotion. Soloing into infinity, this one is guaranteed to give you goosebumps.”
DrumEyes, IconAclass and Tony Conrad provided a delightfully human, sporadic bookend to the festival before the train had to be caught home. DrumEyes with their gameboy inspired, mathy, flip out double drum sound. IconAclass with his relentless tirade of wordplay atop Shadow-esque beats and Tony Conrad for his delicate, haunting violin pieces and intricate shadowplay. It took some time to get going, but by the end I almost understood what the festival was getting at - forgetting any ideal and doing whatever the fuck you want. Or maybe I got it wrong. The best stuff had a framework. The art was all GCSE standard though, and the crowd was slightly unwelcoming.
However, there's definitely something poignant in the Supersonic set up, as you stumble through the dark tunnels to find smiling faces, nodding their heads to the latest incarnation of krautrock, or looping, hypnotic electronica. I'd recommend it for any music fan. It's good to put yourself out of your comfort zone. Well... every now and again.
Ears ringing, eyeballs swirling and ribcage shaking, he walked back to the station. Through the neglected outskirts of Birmingham city centre, he kept his head down. 'You white bastard!' screamed a passing car. Carrier bags and fag ends blew around his feet. The Tories had clawed their way to power yet again. Warehouses lay empty and the boarded up windows shone resolute metal in the dying sun. All the noises he heard - the cars, the distant trains, the people walking and talking - had an undertone. Underneath the arches a realisation had been made. Boundaries are important - they are required. But if we didn't push them, how would we ever know what else is possible?
The Milky Bar Kid had caught the wrong train... and ended up in Gotham City.
And survived.
Artists in this article: Secret Chiefs 3, Electric Wizard, A.p.a.t.T., Part Chimp, Mike Watt, Agathe Max, Backwards , Mike Curley Ensemble, Bardo Pond, Lucky Dragons, Pharaoh Overlord, Berg Sans Nipple, DrumEyes, IconAclass, Tony Conrad
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