Eugene Charcesio is playing from the sound desk tonight, hidden from the crowd who sit a floor below, while visuals are projected onto a large screen at the back of the Turbine Platform; a slideshow of images playing with colour and light-source that are interesting, but better ignored for the music. The beginning is slow and delicate. Synth pulses that sound like water droplets spill singly from the speakers and then, as they become more frequent and overlap in small ripples, quiet glitches wrap under them – a warming decay. It's hard to concentrate though as the move from Room 40's normal perch on the top floor has brought the event into conflict with the departing crowd from another show. It's an unfortunate result for an event that calls for careful listening to sparse sound, and the noise from the bar is distracting and disorientating.
After a while, a gentle wash of static fills the mix and envelops the ambient noise into the piece, creating harmony in place of competition, and, at least for a little while, the background wash of the venue enhances the music. It doesn't last though, and when the static fades away the clashing chatter feels more prominent for its brief absence. A gradually growing bass drone starts to control the sound again, but it never quite gains the necessary volume and problems remain until the end of the set: one decent enough musically, but spoilt by an environment unsuited to the style.
The background noise has thankfully softened by the time Grouper sits down in front of her instruments and begins her performance. Eschewing her previous vocal and guitar setup, tonight she uses a selection of tape loops, run through a mixer, in line with her recent Violet Replacement release. The early sounds of Grouper's set continue tonight's water theme. Lapping currents wash delicately against each other as a slow string drone swells over the top. Eventually a melody joins in, immediate, but drenched in enough reverb to create a distant echo of itself at the same time – a vaguely haunting effect that washes out any memorable qualities of the melody and slowly relegates it back into the wash of sound.
Layers of wavering noise sit atop each other: string, voice, field recordings, all interleaved. Flowing into and out from each other so that the dominant tone consistently shifts, the very fabric of the sound unwilling to settle into repetition. Pulses of static quiver under the gentler drone and slowly rise up, threatening to take over, only to sink once more beneath the gentle waves. As the layers drop, a degree of repetition arrives in the final minutes, but it's not enough to lessen the impact of tonight's impressively subtle composition.
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