Soundcrash: Wagon Christ LP Launch Party Review (With support by Infesticons & Debruit)

The Soundcrash trailblazing force field has supplied numerable sonic experiences including Anti-Pop Consortium, Coldcut/Hextatic, Kentaro, Krush, Herbaliser in recent memory already.

So on forth to XOYO for the first release of the Wagon Christ moniker since 2004’s Sorry I Make You Lush. How does Luke Vibert’s live laptop funking; knob twaddling keep up in a scene so hegenomonically shaped by electronic manipulators of the dance-floor, a contrast from yester-year scenes were digi-tech was still a new-tokyo futurology fixation.

But first. Other notable scribblings.

XOYO (ex-oh-why-oh? Zoyo? Apprantly it’s…Ex-Oh Yo?) - funnel/bottleneck indoor waiting area where guest-listers and civilians clamoured for space alike; before a Dante-esque ascent up stairs forced a choice between the two rooms. (I love Acid soundsystem and downstairs for the Wagon Christ et al live PAs) All spurred by rambunctious bouncer-types but still; it provided a ceremonious atmosphere.

Downstairs, as a Handsome Boy Modelling School playlist massaged a handful of attendees, the intellectual maelstrom that is the Mike Ladd led Infesticons hit the stage. Digi sound-scapes powered by an engine of a drummer, who looked like a pharaoh, conjured up hundreds of revelers from nowhere to kick-start the night. If you don’t know the Infesticons v Majesticons back-story, it’s something of a righteous polemic hip-hop purist factions vs the exaggerated ‘bling-era’ superficial but party-ass-kicking shine of the Majesticons. By way a love for toy-soldiers and transformers.


Mike Ladd isn’t unlike a Mike Patton figure, talk-rap-singing dense futurisms but with hilarity, charm and a magnetic very few vocalists have. Backed by the vocal uzi power that is Juice Aleem (maker of the critically acclaimed album Jerusalaam Come), this stage show entranced a lively (and singing along) audience through sexy talk ‘Move Slow,’ and the industrial power funk of ‘Bombs Anthem’ and ‘Plane Anthem.’ (the latter two from ‘Bedford Park LP’) ‘Jump out the Plane!’ the chorus hollers. In times of more middle-eastern invasions and botched helicopter jobs, it’s through the leftfield narrative eccentricism of Like Madd Mike Ladd, music becomes a timely reflection of current affairs. (Plus there was a Stalin themed freestyle but unless you were there, you wouldn’t really get it all. It was pretty amazing.)

After a tentative grace period, and much stage shifting with the mounting of reflective panels for live visuals; three men dressed somewhere between Homebase boiler suits and Berber nomadic robes stepped to the stage. Any pretence was swiftly washed away though as rich African melodies and Moorish string scales sweeped over the packed room. Master of the electronics revealed Xavier Thomas a.k.a. dÉbruit – modulated Arabic key singing plus neck snapping J-Dilla Detroit swing drums accented by a live band transcended Saturday night booziness into a somewhat mystical experience. The amazing thing once again was where the audience were chanting to the lyrics of Infesticons songs, here they were transfixed by a luscious ocean of musicality. When was the last time a Saturday night celebrated music as more than a quick-fix in this way?


And so it drew to the headline. Luke Vibert’s Wagon Christ is a playful assault using the breakbeat movement evolution an history as ammunition. He seamlessly mixes a pantheon of vocal samples to rival the dramatics of MF Doom over solid, chest thumping drums to brew a soup that maybe the Avalanches coulda/shoulda/woulda served up. ‘Toomorrow’ lightened the night’s vibe into party territory as fans delighted their appreciation of old considered classics mixed into tracks from the new album. Who can fudge with the Lazer Dick? An ebullient figure, he managed to make-organic the modern experience of watching artistry hunched over an apple symbol and gleaming aluminum casing. Make no mistake, the night was heavy. Dare any staunch b-boy not to get down to ‘Manalyze This!’ or tip a trilbee to ‘Ain’t he Heavy, He’s my Brother.’


Yes.

The artists sang. The audience sang. Thanks to Ninja Tune and Soundcrash.

No thanks to the man who when it was half 9 and barely anyone was in the room, still managed to bump into my friend and knock her drinks over. How do you manage such a catastrophic walk circumference when so much space is available? Sucker.

Check out the Soundcrash site for forthcoming aural benders



Written by Perry Dominoes