Metope/Ada/Superpitcher @ SAT
Oct. 24th, 2005 07:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
petroniaThesis statement first: if they are playing near you, GO GO GO. Unless you don't like techno in which case no help for you.
My mother has the flu and is coughing through the night so my dad is bedding down in the basement, i.e. I'm only on the computer for an hour in the evenings over the weekend.[1] That plus a predictably bleary Saturday plus going out to catch the tail end of the New Cinema Festival Sunday afternoon is why this gig report is delayed, but at least I am writing it (which is better than I can say for the Four Tet/Akufen show, or Garbage, or...). It turns out the SAT - Société des Arts Technologiques - is a block up Saint Laurent from the Chinatown gates, a building Ced says is a converted supermarket. I am almost certain I remember it in a completely different location - on Saint Catherine? Inside it is oblong with a stage, dancefloor space and seating at both ends, one of which is a glass-exterior-walled lounge, and the bar in the middle, i.e. only half of the space really saw action. Video projections on the walls, funny clock going backwards at an accelerated clip, red modernist furniture. Entrance / coatcheck / unisex mirror-less washroom in what was probably underground parking once.
Ced and I arrived at 9:30 and were like the eleventh and twelfth people in the room. The opening sets (Jesse Somfay and Yuksek) were not bad at all but people were definitely restraining themselves, either by not dancing - especially at first - or performing the microhouse microdance of microenergy conservation. You know what I mean. Ced and I said bollocks to all that and boogied straight down from 9:30 to 3 with only two 15-minute breaks, right up against the stage. Legs and feet held up as well as could be expected, I guess I'm still in shape from Europe. XD
Actually the Yuksek guy was more than solid. His set stole thunder from Metope after him, although mostly because the former was electro/tech house and the latter was minimal with a touch of deep house, i.e. going max -> min in terms of affect. Other than such vague generalities I can't describe the music since I'm arse at identifying instrumental tracks and have probably never heard most of them to name anyway. XD
Ada was on from midnight to one and all the indie boys in the front row were mad in love with her, what with her rocking that Gillian Gilbert-esque demure electronica girl furrow of concentration and also being blond and German. Seriously, she has the loveliest smile! She only sang the one song but it was as shimmeringly romantic as one could have wished, the rest was more straight-up tech grooves. Most notable was the last song she played during which I had my eyes closed at first, and the giant bursts of spacey synth filling the air made me see stars. Then I opened my eyes and the video projection was flashing multicoloured neon stars. :D I now intend to buy her album.
Superpitcher (hereafter Herr Spitcher as I feel odd calling a real human Superpitcher, I mean now that I can picture him as a real human) was on after that and all the girls in the front row, well, hilarity was incurred. XD After about an hour I decided Herr Spitcher looked like imaginary!younger!fanon!Aziraphale (isn't it annoying when someone real reminds you of someone who isn't?); he actually started his set with a beige silk scarf knotted over his beige tie + shirt combo although that disappeared after a while given temperatures were such that he prolly could've fried an egg on the turntable. As for Herr Spitcher's hair it rates its own Livejournal entry. In fact I would not be surprised to discover that Herr Spitcher's hair has its own Livejournal, period. XD
As you may or may not be putting together, Herr Spitcher live is a GIANT GENKI TARD. I mean most DJs and beatmeisters don't even smile most of the time, they look as if they're doing something slightly technical and absorbing with their hands (which of course they are). They markedly do not tend to evince their enjoyment of their own record collection in a live setting by a) making dramatic kung-fu gestures to indicate when the music is going to peak, b) frenetically shaking booty along with the audience or c) pulling the prettiest girls up out of the front row and dancing with them (AFAICT her boyfriend was such a big fan he didn't mind and treated Herr Spitcher to some nerdtastic enthused handwaving commentary later XD;;;). Actually I think his best move was diving under the table to retrieve the next record, which due to the stage setup made it look as if he were popping in and out of thin air.
What was played, what was played... the Mayer/Aguayo "Slow" at first, "Baby On Fire" cover at 2:05 (just as I was going to the washroom. There is no surer method of getting the DJ to play something you want to hear than visiting the washroom =_=), t3h Baxendale at 2:50 or so MY LIFE IS COMPLETE ETC. As I said I'm incapable of identifying vocalless tracks although oddly I suspect he was torturing Royksopp for a bit. For the demanded encore he threw on the Mayer mix of "Happiness" and let it play out while he jumped off the stage into a pile of fangirls and was not to be seen thereafter.
If Kompakt were Weiss I bet Herr Spitcher is Youji = WORST MUSIC REVIEW I WILL NEVER ACTUALLY WRITE
At 3:30 they kicked the crowd out, and Cedric and I went and hung in Café Depot for two hours until the metro reopened. Rather I napped over a mint tea and he wrote his gig report which is here. In conclusion, that really hit the spot and you should all go.
One minor note: boy was that crowd ever white. XD There were no black people and Cedric claims to have spotted a couple of Token Asian Girlfriends but I didn't even. Mind you it was nowhere near capacity to begin with, unsurprisingly given how much trouble I had to go to just to confirm this show existed and where it was taking place. You'd've had to have been stalking either MEG Montréal or errm that one ILM thread, even the label sites were unhelpful.
EDIT -- Using the intarweb, I discovered that Herr Spitcher's real name is AKSEL. Man, that explains everything.
[1] I'm writing my SSBB story longhand in a notebook, barricaded in my room with a snifter of brandy. With every issue I vow to redefine "cutting it finely". Actually I've been using this same jumbo colour-coded spiral notebook for years whenever I can't or don't feel like writing on the computer, so it's full of page-long drafts of my various stories, outlines, and so forth (there are ten pages of a GetBackers chapter translation). Some of it is a bit weepworthy to revisit, like the Petshop of Horrors "police procedural" where I'd written out a cast list - "COUNT D, a pet shop owner; LEON ORCOT, an LAPD detective" - and on down to a number of original characters - an heiress, a former actor, a librarian - and by way of plot the gnomic "a series of robberies". Or the fact that "White Lights" was evidently planned as the first in a series of "snow vignettes" that I'd listed in character/prompt/recipient format ("3. Crawford and Schuldich, loft fire escape, Liz Cheng", "6. Something Slam Dunk-ish for S'pore-tachi"). I'd placed a checkmark next to the one I did write, oh so virtuously.
My mother has the flu and is coughing through the night so my dad is bedding down in the basement, i.e. I'm only on the computer for an hour in the evenings over the weekend.[1] That plus a predictably bleary Saturday plus going out to catch the tail end of the New Cinema Festival Sunday afternoon is why this gig report is delayed, but at least I am writing it (which is better than I can say for the Four Tet/Akufen show, or Garbage, or...). It turns out the SAT - Société des Arts Technologiques - is a block up Saint Laurent from the Chinatown gates, a building Ced says is a converted supermarket. I am almost certain I remember it in a completely different location - on Saint Catherine? Inside it is oblong with a stage, dancefloor space and seating at both ends, one of which is a glass-exterior-walled lounge, and the bar in the middle, i.e. only half of the space really saw action. Video projections on the walls, funny clock going backwards at an accelerated clip, red modernist furniture. Entrance / coatcheck / unisex mirror-less washroom in what was probably underground parking once.
Ced and I arrived at 9:30 and were like the eleventh and twelfth people in the room. The opening sets (Jesse Somfay and Yuksek) were not bad at all but people were definitely restraining themselves, either by not dancing - especially at first - or performing the microhouse microdance of microenergy conservation. You know what I mean. Ced and I said bollocks to all that and boogied straight down from 9:30 to 3 with only two 15-minute breaks, right up against the stage. Legs and feet held up as well as could be expected, I guess I'm still in shape from Europe. XD
Actually the Yuksek guy was more than solid. His set stole thunder from Metope after him, although mostly because the former was electro/tech house and the latter was minimal with a touch of deep house, i.e. going max -> min in terms of affect. Other than such vague generalities I can't describe the music since I'm arse at identifying instrumental tracks and have probably never heard most of them to name anyway. XD
Ada was on from midnight to one and all the indie boys in the front row were mad in love with her, what with her rocking that Gillian Gilbert-esque demure electronica girl furrow of concentration and also being blond and German. Seriously, she has the loveliest smile! She only sang the one song but it was as shimmeringly romantic as one could have wished, the rest was more straight-up tech grooves. Most notable was the last song she played during which I had my eyes closed at first, and the giant bursts of spacey synth filling the air made me see stars. Then I opened my eyes and the video projection was flashing multicoloured neon stars. :D I now intend to buy her album.
Superpitcher (hereafter Herr Spitcher as I feel odd calling a real human Superpitcher, I mean now that I can picture him as a real human) was on after that and all the girls in the front row, well, hilarity was incurred. XD After about an hour I decided Herr Spitcher looked like imaginary!younger!fanon!Aziraphale (isn't it annoying when someone real reminds you of someone who isn't?); he actually started his set with a beige silk scarf knotted over his beige tie + shirt combo although that disappeared after a while given temperatures were such that he prolly could've fried an egg on the turntable. As for Herr Spitcher's hair it rates its own Livejournal entry. In fact I would not be surprised to discover that Herr Spitcher's hair has its own Livejournal, period. XD
As you may or may not be putting together, Herr Spitcher live is a GIANT GENKI TARD. I mean most DJs and beatmeisters don't even smile most of the time, they look as if they're doing something slightly technical and absorbing with their hands (which of course they are). They markedly do not tend to evince their enjoyment of their own record collection in a live setting by a) making dramatic kung-fu gestures to indicate when the music is going to peak, b) frenetically shaking booty along with the audience or c) pulling the prettiest girls up out of the front row and dancing with them (AFAICT her boyfriend was such a big fan he didn't mind and treated Herr Spitcher to some nerdtastic enthused handwaving commentary later XD;;;). Actually I think his best move was diving under the table to retrieve the next record, which due to the stage setup made it look as if he were popping in and out of thin air.
What was played, what was played... the Mayer/Aguayo "Slow" at first, "Baby On Fire" cover at 2:05 (just as I was going to the washroom. There is no surer method of getting the DJ to play something you want to hear than visiting the washroom =_=), t3h Baxendale at 2:50 or so MY LIFE IS COMPLETE ETC. As I said I'm incapable of identifying vocalless tracks although oddly I suspect he was torturing Royksopp for a bit. For the demanded encore he threw on the Mayer mix of "Happiness" and let it play out while he jumped off the stage into a pile of fangirls and was not to be seen thereafter.
If Kompakt were Weiss I bet Herr Spitcher is Youji = WORST MUSIC REVIEW I WILL NEVER ACTUALLY WRITE
At 3:30 they kicked the crowd out, and Cedric and I went and hung in Café Depot for two hours until the metro reopened. Rather I napped over a mint tea and he wrote his gig report which is here. In conclusion, that really hit the spot and you should all go.
One minor note: boy was that crowd ever white. XD There were no black people and Cedric claims to have spotted a couple of Token Asian Girlfriends but I didn't even. Mind you it was nowhere near capacity to begin with, unsurprisingly given how much trouble I had to go to just to confirm this show existed and where it was taking place. You'd've had to have been stalking either MEG Montréal or errm that one ILM thread, even the label sites were unhelpful.
EDIT -- Using the intarweb, I discovered that Herr Spitcher's real name is AKSEL. Man, that explains everything.
[1] I'm writing my SSBB story longhand in a notebook, barricaded in my room with a snifter of brandy. With every issue I vow to redefine "cutting it finely". Actually I've been using this same jumbo colour-coded spiral notebook for years whenever I can't or don't feel like writing on the computer, so it's full of page-long drafts of my various stories, outlines, and so forth (there are ten pages of a GetBackers chapter translation). Some of it is a bit weepworthy to revisit, like the Petshop of Horrors "police procedural" where I'd written out a cast list - "COUNT D, a pet shop owner; LEON ORCOT, an LAPD detective" - and on down to a number of original characters - an heiress, a former actor, a librarian - and by way of plot the gnomic "a series of robberies". Or the fact that "White Lights" was evidently planned as the first in a series of "snow vignettes" that I'd listed in character/prompt/recipient format ("3. Crawford and Schuldich, loft fire escape, Liz Cheng", "6. Something Slam Dunk-ish for S'pore-tachi"). I'd placed a checkmark next to the one I did write, oh so virtuously.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-10-25 12:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-25 03:23 am (UTC)Thanks for the report. It's a fun night. (same show, different city...)
<3 spitcher so much
Date: 2005-10-25 06:23 pm (UTC)(we had this very nice daydream that you would meet our friend
Re: <3 spitcher so much
Date: 2005-10-25 10:42 pm (UTC)(It was sort of funny because part of the crowd was obviously so over anything that was on Kompakt 6. HIPSTERS.)
Haven't heard the Nathan Fake! Would like to!
Re: <3 spitcher so much
Date: 2005-10-27 12:13 pm (UTC)ahaha, hipsters indeed! I totally cannot talk, though, most of the micro I know-and-recognise is either like 2 years old or well obvious mix-cd contents.
(...I wonder how long he's in montreal for, hmm.)
Re: <3 spitcher so much
Date: 2005-10-27 03:17 pm (UTC)I did randomly download some Nathan Fake yesterday, though. XD "Outhouse" and remixes of "The Sky Was Pink". Tis good.
no subject
Date: 2005-10-25 09:23 pm (UTC)this manthis man's music. Also, hopefully Ada is sold eslewhere than in Montreal?Am adding this entry to my memories. I enjoyed every single word of this post, even the articles and linking verbs because I felt certain they were only leading to better things. ♥
no subject
Date: 2005-10-25 10:34 pm (UTC)Now I am Photo Googling the rest of the Kompakt roster, like I have nothing better to do. I've never seen such a bunch of ectomorphic Teutons! One would think none of them drank beer.
I only wish Ada were sold in Montreal. I am going to try and find out tonight, but there's no domestic NA release at any rate. (Last week I was in Archambault and lo and behold there was a whole pile of Ivan Smagghe's Fabric mix - 32$CAN before tax. ARGH.)
no subject
Date: 2005-10-25 10:50 pm (UTC)