Caribou + Four Tet
Hi-Fi Bar, Melbourne
Wednesday 16th February 2011
I get an odd joy tonight from watching the pit of photographers take initial shots of Keiren Hebden setting up his audio rig. On camera, of course, there will be no difference between Four Tet setting up and Four Tet playing a gig. Such is the live lot of the laptop artist.
Hebden is up first tonight. The UK electronic whiz wears the uniform of studio nerd - comfy tee, shorts and thongs (funnily enough, Dan Snaith, aka Caribou, aka fellow studio nerd, watches most of Hebden's set from the back stairs wearing the exact same outfit) - while padding around an array of laptops, a mixer, a kaoss pad and other electronic knick-knacks. No need for a mic, Hebden wordlessly builds up a hazy throb of low-key scattered percussion, before kicking satisfyingly into 'Love Cry', one of many of tonight's highlights from last year's
There Is Love In You. And which sets the pace for the rest of his set: an unwavering, four on the floor dance throb that never errs from its 118-120BPM tempo.
Thus, the enjoyment of Hebden's muse tonight would depend on your taste: if you wanna dance, now's a great time to see Four Tet. If you yearn for his more esoteric swathes of glitchy noise and disorientating sheets of haze, it's not. Tonight's up close crowd are fervently in the former category, the Hi-Fi dancefloor a concave crew of jiggling bodies from the get go. From 'Love Cry' he moves into an eerie, almost spaghetti western-flecked piece, with longing slide-guitar runs and droning piano notes lending gravitas to the persistent crunch of that beat. From there the gorgeous 'Angel Echoes' segues into 'Sing', Hebden taking it into bass squelch territory under an extended arpeggio loop that eventually recedes into a lone, high-pitched drone. And from here he brings it to a long, spare close with looped nylon-string patterns, harmonics and a slowly ebbing tempo. Another wordless wave to an impossibly pleased dancefloor and Hebden is off. An involving set for those willing to dance, not so much for those looking for textures beyond those propping the beat.
Before too long Dan Snaith and his three bandmates, all dressed in whites and pastels, arrive on stage and set about their workstations. Snaith on keyboard-controller and one of two drumkits facing each other, behind which is a guitarist on keyboard and laptop, and a bassist - strongly resembling a young Charlie Watts - who will surprisingly sing many of the lead vocals tonight.
The four-piece set off with 'Kali' from last year's
TheVine highlight Swim. While Snaith's sighing croon shines, the sounds not great, and while it pulls together over time, there's no doubt that the immersive, murky textures of
Swim aren't suited to the bluster of tonight's live show. The sinewy 'Leave House' fairs better, despite the doomy bass drones of the original going missing; ending with the first of many dual drum-a-thons that alternate between riveting and overwrought. The furious percussive element has always been a highlight of the Caribou/Manitoba sets, but I can't shake the feeling tonight that it unnecessarily bothers much of Snaith's new work, obscuring the careful, detailed sounds from
Swim. 'Niobe' from
Andorra fares better, before the blissed out bells of 'Bowls' manages to pull things together gloriously - it's no accident that it's also one of the
Swim tracks most suited to extra percussion.
Snaith totes a Strat for
Andorra's 'Melody Day', which - along with its eventual drum circle - underwhelms alongside the newer material. Snaith's voice slinks over 'Found Out', it's guitar-note sequence looping nicely, before 'Hannibal' evolves into a colossal, thundering jam of yore, our bassist taking lead vocals at the tracks close, white noise blazing while strobe lights blitz. Live, it's the most reminiscent of Snaith's pre-Caribou, Manitoba days, all psychedelic shock and awe. And so, absorbingly awesome.
A slinky, noir-ish 'Jamelia' - but sorely missing the steel drums on record - gives way to set-closer and fantastically dance-y crowd pleaser 'Odessa'. Encore time and they're back for a trippy 'Sun', a version that gathers steam where the recorded version drifts, and as such, provides a driving, thrilling end to a hugely involving set.
Despite the craft of Caribou on record, tonight they worked best either at full throttle, or whilst studiously subtle. Boiling down much of the details and texture into broader brushstrokes like this, there was little dynamic between the two. That's OK, it was still a joy to behold; especially the interplay between musicians. But while a pleasure to witness (and dance some), I couldn't help but long for an attention to detail - the kind that got me so excited to be here in the first place.
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(Pics: Tim O'Connor)