live-fi: gigs & live shows


Expressions of immediate retrospection on those momentous occasions when I bore witness to sirens and sires in their performative spheres… again, as it would seem, merging synesthetic worlds with quasi-sensible words into a stream of conscious composition… a verbal point-of-view about those who gallivant across this life on-stage, from a pit and/or place just beyond antiquated orchestral stays… a vantage from the ground floor, amplification of the static noise, echoes and bellows from below… pulsating static from the subterrain.

Effectually, this is the section of the site where I haus observational perceptions of live shows.

Live-Fidelity: Words in Phrase on Sonicscape Life Upon the Limelit Stage

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Lily Allen’s No Shame Tour, Live at Buckhead Theatre

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“Lily’s setlist spanned eleven years of the Wordsworth of the MySpace Generation’s rhythmic discourses and dialogues by-way-of Pop lyricism…”

Line by line, the audience retraced the footsteps and and soundtreks that led us through said decade of lucid chances… oscillating fame, and independent identity lost and found. The collective scene evoked a sense of the Theatre stage’s momentary place as Lily’s living revival of the legendary MySpace page – but make it ‘now;’ tunes, crews, riffs, rhymes and points-of-view… Top (1)8 :: The Re-Up: re-coded…

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Little Boots’ Working Girl Tour, Live at The Echo

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Minimalist staging, maximalist sound, in a way that pulls facade from the corporate tower and floods the underground… america is all show business, and we cosmic dancers are all working girls…

Little Boots crafted a live exhibition of the most true, down to the automated call center entree and ever-so-business-casual peach two-piece suit… the sound and sentiment are the struggle in that lone ascent… from grime to primetime – by way of broken glass ceilings… Close enough to feel, too close to see anything but vibes, and volume #internalnocturnal…

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… and the curtain called artRAVE

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Fare thee well, fair behemoth bacchanalia…

 An HD deep-tech-haus disco diamond in the cuff to fill said otherwise void… love art dance fashion cosmic sublime suspended in time… still travelin’ just dancin’ round the world… suit up, get down, paws pilot – enjoi…

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Talk in Colour, Live at Floripa

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“Colliderscopic. If Four Tet’s angels echo, Talk in Colour’s angels cry rhapsodic tears…”

Talk in Colour is a sonic second coming of Icarus – where in lieu of the sun, emanates the corona of the mirrored sphere. Melodies move as wings of wax like fine vinyl pavements melting beneath a Bossa Nova sole…

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fIN, Live at Bush Hall

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“Beneath chandeliers and a specula orb, heavy rich drums and lingering electric riffs drowned the tailored crowd in deliciously dense melodic metallic sound…”

There’s endless love coasting along relentless rock hearkening to a freshly aged sound as golden as the beaches liberating the backdrop; then, the depths as the waves crash along the proverbial shore. Pieces of the gig draw me back to backwoods drives… damp pine-filled aromas lingering along with the beautifully ominous sounds of The Deftones… ivory vapors of sound as tangible as the aural White Pony was eargasmic…

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HMV’s Next Big Thing: Florrie, Live at The Barfly Camden

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“Snow, ice, pints, and Summer Nights…”

On the outside: London’s first snow of the year, on the inside: the strobed sublime of HMV’s Next Big Thing – snowballs and disco balls make for a splendid sonic nightcap. On the floor: an Anglophilic audience with a distinct taste for Xenomania; at the helm: a doe-eyed, denim-donning neo-disco diamond in the rough behind a pulsing pokerface bluff, and the beat of her own drum…

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Toro Y Moi, Live at The Relentless Garage

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“The mood was mellow, the bassline ebb, beasted, flowed, and bellowed…”

Synesthetic in a subtle way, the set blended tech-propulsed but tangible sounds with soft neon spotlights. Rhythmic red, sweltering cerulean, and whimsical white bathed the pit in a chill new wave disco blues experience. The crowd was alive, in an ‘I think, therefore I am’ kind of air, slightly off-sync head bobbing, Rodin-inspired chin perching, scrutinizing eyes, planted feet, dulled roars of dialoguing audiophonic academicians… engaging through analysis…

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Little Boots “Shake” Launch Party, Live from an East London Secret Warehouse

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“Black and Gold, Blue-eyed synth soul…”

Lights, Camera, Passion in an East London Secret Warehouse… Half rave cave, half Factory foyer… Shake it ’til you make it, then make it shake… While you’re at it: shake it ’til your heart breaks…

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A Tale of London Angeles: Red Hot Chili Peppers and Fool’s Gold, Live at The O2

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“November in Britain: cold, dark, a tad bit secluded… but at the end of the day, there’s nothing quite electrifying like a Chili night in London…”

Fool’s Gold’s five-piece found a masterful medium between the electric anthemic arena feel and the intimate audience interplay of a hole-in-the-wall lounge. And then, as always, after the fresh – comes the funk. 30 years young, the Red Hot Chili Peppers are those most dazed and Californicated 401Kings of Pop music. Going to a 2011 live RHCP arena show is akin to chaperoning your inner child to a legendary gig under the generational bridge…

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The Warhol Film Experience, Live at (le) Poisson Rouge

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“Professor Warhol’s Screen Tests :: …

Pupils: Edie Sedgwick, Lou Reed, Nico, ‘Baby’ Jane Holzer, Dennis Hopper, Paul America, Ingrid Superstar… when the exhibitionists become the voyeurs…

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Supercharged Primacy on Display: Electric Zoo 2010

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“Nestled halfway between Harlem and Brooklyn lies Randall’s Island. This Labor Day weekend the islet transformed…”

… into a beautiful blend of Wonkaland and Woodstock, Israel and Ibiza, Pleasure Island and Neverland – a hybrid between that Pinocchio place where lost boys find themselves and where Peter Pan’s lost boys aimlessly meander… all perpetuated by the most nourishing of all life fuels… music – electronic dance music. Needless to say, I had no idea what to expect: drugs, neon, iPhones, Ray Bans, Twitter handles, something, anything, nothing, everything… Needless to say, I got exactly what I expected…

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The Monster’s Midnight Train to Georgia: Monster Ball, The Fox Theatre

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“One doesn’t review Lady Gaga: they display their point of view of Gaga…”

Monster Ball is built upon a forced perspective; but with one like Gaga, within that parallel universe, the rigidity of her forced perspective allows for the creative mind of a monster to roam and wander endlessly in a world all their own. In the sea of Gagaisms you know the words, you know the lyrics, you know the soundbites. There’s plenty to say about Monster Ball, but for a proper delve, the words have lost meaning in and of themselves. So, come take a look through my lens, and let’s get unconscious…

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