Grimes
As I make my way into Heaven, my initial impression is that
there is someone onstage killing a cat.
Fortunately, I don’t need to alert PETA or the RSPCA – the appalling
noise is Majical Cloudz, a project of whizkid Devon Welsh. The music is fine,
but the vocals are excruciating.
To be fair, I only catch the last ten minutes or so, so it
is perfectly possible there may have been a moment of serenity when a note was
hit accurately earlier in their set. However, what I hear is pretty much the
sound of a wino wailing under a bridge.
Becoming Real is the alter ego of Toby Ridler, a musician
who is left onstage to entertain us with a set of rather nifty electronic dance
music. He faces the great DJ dilemma.
This problem occurs when all the music is stored on computer
and doesn’t require much more attention than remembering to hit the ‘On’
button. Ridler compensates for this by shuffling and twiddling as though his
life depended upon it. Watching him closely, he is rarely doing anything to his
equipment at all; he is merely pretending to be as busy as Glenn Gould pounding
away at the ‘Rach 3’.
There is no real reason for him to be onstage, as the same
effect could be gained from him slipping his CD on and leaving the crowd to
their own devices while he enjoys a long cool drink. Instead, we are presented
with the knob twiddler’s equivalent of an air guitar solo.
Claire Boucher aka headliner Grimes is all too aware that
unadorned electronic music is not much to look at. So she lays on plenty of
distractions.
The first, and by far the most impressive, is a lithe and
Amazonian pole dancer who contorts and disports during the first two numbers.
It’s a genuinely awesome and athletic performance.
Grimes bounces and bobs backs and forth behind her keyboards
and flicks her long blonde ponytail about. She’s electro-Barbie.
With the pole dancer off for a rest, Grimes is joined by
various musicians who are flamboyantly dressed and who help to keep the crowd
engaged. To this end we also get back projections of Japanese anime plus an
assortment of balloons and bubbles blown about the venue. It’s not so much a
gig as the kind of bright and shiny distraction afforded to toddlers plonked
down in front of the television. I’m fine with it, but then I get the giggles
if someone jangles their keys at me.
The music is a kind of sparse and atmospheric distorted pop
that is kind of like the first Madonna album given a good tweaking by Lee
‘Scratch’ Perry. Vocals are sampled and run backwards and forwards, beats are
stretched and distorted.
The percussionists clap, Grimes bounces and we watch the
visuals. Everything is amicable and cosy. In ‘Genesis’ Grimes even has
something that could be played on the radio as a spectral but straightforward
pop song.
There is a minor equipment glitch during the encore, but
Grimes shows her showbiz chops by making light of the problem and chatting
easily with the crowd until power is restored.
It’s been a good show rather than a great one, but ‘good’ is
not to be dismissed. Ooh look – bright lights!
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