It’s 9:30 pm, and there’s a line at the door that wraps around the corner. It’s a big crowd, but you can tell apart the EAF usuals by a remnant smell of Foil gallery perfume and burnt cpu’s. This time, there’s no curtain cutting the room in half; the room fills up to the door, and there’s a buzz around Andy Stott. But first, Corporation.
In a vessel of silence, sharp and thin tones whip through the space like solar flares. Behind them, an eclipse. Right away, you could tell this was no ordinary set.
Corporation is made up of Keru Not Never and Julien Racine, both with successful solo projects, and both longtime collaborators under different monikers. Their talent was no surprise to me. I’d spoken to them months prior, only a day before Andy Stott was to postpone the concert to May, and they had described a valiant effort at composing all new material for the show.
The work did not go unnoticed. From start to finish, Corporation constructed ideas through various methods of gestalt over a plot that kept on thickening. There was a sense of drama, mystery and anticipation that kept you on your toes. Each section was different, yet held a point of reference to the whole, whether it was through reiteration of a texture, or a variation of rhythm that flipped the downbeat and stirred the crowd. The introduction was slightly confused by a sudden and sustained rise in energy, and exhausted an initially great idea of revisiting UK dubstep, but it was just a hiccup, as the rest of the set held beautifully. Accompanied by William Hayes Dulude’s visuals, the experience was cinematic rather than a merely musical, and left me with a feeling of awe and deep appreciation of our local talent and scene.
Tough act to follow, even for Andy Stott it seemed. After the young duo’s eclectic storytelling approach, the veteran’s elongated club-type set was a tough adjustment to make as a listener. Or maybe there was a reluctance because of expectation.
As is often the case for artists with such refined albums, Andy Stott had a reputation to live up to, and while some danced with carefree amusement to the initial stream of downtempo trip hop, I found myself longing for the signature feeling of space and nuance in his albums like Luxury Problems or Faith in Strangers. In contrast, his live set drowned the room with machinic rhythms, dominating the mix in a way which was enjoyably transparent, but also at times boomy. The start was a little stiff. but thankfully it was transient.
As time went on and things loosened up a bit and I could pick out the emblematic click and cut aesthetic, the broken rhythms, and melodies on the verge of pop. That sound which is completely unpretentious, and that draws people from all walks of life. In the crowded and damp Espace S.A.T., Stott started chopping vocal samples and the name regained a place of praise in my heart. The lyrics appropriately echoed out: `I can still love’.
Outside, rain began to pour, but the small crowd in front of the S.A.T. refused to disperse, deeply engaged in conversations about the two sets that seemed to have a polarizing effect. One thing is for sure, everyone got their money’s worth.
