Thursday, November 01, 2012

Ichi, Islaja and Tomutonttu

20th Oct - The Cube Bristol





Ichi was marvellous… stilt walked on stage kazooing as he went… making his way through an array of homemade musical wares completely acoustically - as Jan would later state.. 'not even using a microphone'... Essentially a one man band, he brimmed with inventiveness… a real eccentric. A bright orange traffic cone amplifying his cutesy Japanese vowel noodles, accompanied by the simplest of melodies and oompha kicks of bass drum… Steel pan calypso upping the sunshine factor as he constantly assembled and reassembled his wares into different concoctions for each track..





That two string double bass sounded unbelievably sweet, constructed from a stilt leg ... a tambourine sound box, further amplified by the orange cone clipped behind, it was sometimes bowed accompanied by some mighty fine Kazakhstan throat action or slapped and plucked Mingus stylee to his Asiatic syllables … Later, a toy trumpet was perched on top, thimble fingers drumming it’s body… extra percussion from the clackers attached to his All-Stars… that balloon deflating into a trumpet was pure genius!… The man was a blur of novelty… finishing his set playing crazy golf with his instruments, making abstract noises as he went. A party popper finale from his headwear, before stilt walking off stage once more…



Islaja was taking a brave step into the unknown... ditching her usual Finnish word fairies for English and wrapping them in modulated key drones... Lush sampledelic cordons in slippery time frames... those wolf-like howlings were superb, hacking back to her shamanic roots, swept into techno kraut fallouts... a bit irked that some of the lush directions were disappointingly chopped short or left wavering towards some wobbly danceables...





Last up Jan Anderzen the man behind Tomutonttu was nursing a bad cold, mulling a tumbler of rum and coke in hand...... saying he really liked Ichi's set, apologetically gesturing towards his musical wears and saying sheepishly on reflection that it all depended on electricity... with a shrug of the shoulders he went straight into his goods...a slippery floor of sonic loopage similar to his looniness for Ultra Eczema (recently dragged from the brink of rarity by Jan and Sammi's Fonal imprint)... glow sticks of tune tomahawking the speakers complimenting the circular symmetries projected behind… those pitch/tempo shifting ethers full of merry trolls and toy like conversations... vaulted insanity that seemed to wheeze with meaning...



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