There are probably hundreds of words in the English language which could describe the experience of seeing Simian Mobile Disco live, but all of them would sink when actually trying to nail down the chaotic, explosive, unwielding fury that was the show.
The songs of Simian Mobile Disco that I recognized were few, it seemed, though they obviously did play their "hits," starting out with Sleep Deprivation, going on for some time before bringing out It's the Beat, and pocketing away a space for Hustler to be woven it at just the right moment. I was actually surprised to hear Sleep Depravation right off, as I consider it their best song on the album and figured they would close with it. But after the real exploration began, I realized that it didn't matter what they brought it, just that they were absolutely prolific in the way that they did it.
There was a certain amount of spontaneity that seemed to be present in the set, as though there were no clear picture of how to get from point A to point B, masterfully meshing together amelodic beats and rhythms, synths and soundmakers to create a journey into something primordial, something rarely found in the human experience, one might think.
Aside from that, there are two things that stick out at me in terms of the show: 1. The fact that it was the middle of their set, they had only played two songs that I knew, but I didn't care that I didn't know the rest, simply because it was moving me in ways that I had only first been moved by The Chemical Brothers back in 2002. 2. Amidst the strobelights on the dancefloor, there were two young club-goers going at-it with one another in a frenzy. There is a certain electricity in the air as with any electronic music, and certainly Disco's, but it almost seemed to make sense that their music --caused-- this controlled-chaos, this nicely sanctioned off bit of tribal lust.
While it's obvious that there are many who have snogged their way across the club, a randy drink in hand, I have never seen such unabashed passion erupt spontaneously on the floor with such fervor. And I not only felt the intensity of that passion, but also everyone else's awareness of that passion, simultaneously nodding in approval, as if in agreement that, yes, indeed, this makes --sense--.
What part of the human psyche was tapped into tonight? What sort of collective experience did we all actually end up having? Was it profound, or was the loud music and bright lights pulsing much too fast for anyone's mental well-being?
All I know is that there is nothing in this world that could convince me of the latter, especially considering the experiences I have had at other concerts before. No, what I felt tonight was a mix of fresh sounds, honed skill, human connection and a unique experience, one that I don't know if I thought possible before.
And the most amazing part was that I went in with expectations, only to find those expectations met, matched, and beaten to bloody death by an electronic symphony of synthesizers any psychadelic explorer would die to to shove in their ears. The way they used silence was most impressive, breaking apart, slowing down and speeding up to make the crowd pause on their own energy, their own being.
I can liken their set to the improvisation of Daft Punk, just "jamming," using a few songs loosely and in between bringing together other samples and bits which function as a tunnel, as it were, and combine the intensity of a Chemical Brothers set along with it, making it a tough competitor for my top three shows of all time.
After the set, as James and James were clearing out their gear, one could easily walk up and talk to them. I pulled James Ford aside, thanked him heartily for the set, shook his hand, and asked him, firmly, to come back to San Francisco, to which he responded, "Of course, I love this place!" I got James Anthony Shaws attention, gave the same thank-you handshake, and said to him as he walked away,
"You know, you guys make Justice look like a couple of five year olds with switches..."
He gave it a chuckle, and I was glad.
-andy
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