Thundercat, Lapalux and Throwing Snow
XOYO
Wednesday, 10 July
In the wake of Thurdercat's most recent LP for Brainfeeder, Apocalypse, any live date in London was sure to be something special - when it was announced he would be performing at XOYO with support from Lapalux and Throwing Snow, attendance was a no brainer.
The early show kicked off around eight, with Throwing Snow taking control of the exposed brick DJ booth in the corner of the underground, East-London venue. As warm up sets go, his offering left a lot to be desired. Snow's mostly instrumental set jumped from blissed out synths to dark, stripped back techno, which is by no means a bad thing in itself, however a lack of fluidity, drive or sense of purpose in the journey left it feeling slightly unnatural and forced. Although each track played exhumed quality in its own way, his set lacked design and structure, leaving many in the crowd (and it seemed) himself unsure of what to expect next. Some poor EQing left XOYO's sound-system feeling pushed to the point of abuse, as large chunks of the London based producer's set clipped and sounded distorted, a stark contrast to the sonically pleasing sounds he is known for creating.
It was with some relief that Lapalux took control of the proceedings around 9pm, proving in very little time why he is the sole Brit on Fly-Lo's Brainfeeder imprint. From the very first beat, the sound quality in XOYO improved immeasurably, which in itself was promising, however the success of his set went further than knowing to keep his mixer out of the red. His tasteful blends of drunken sounding R&B and hip hop vocals (think ODB after too much purple drank) reacted with his lush, beat wizardry, ensuring his live set was nothing short of halftime bliss. Stoned, groggy samples, coupled with the constantly changing tone and tempo of the beats made his version of Shimmy Shimmy Ya feel like a rose tinted stroll down hip hop memory lane. Lapalux's set oozed maturity and, when married with his playful disregard for convention, looked dangerously close to stealing the show before the headliner had even taken to the stage.
It was little after 10pm when Thundercat made their entrance, and what an entrance it was. Talented vocalist Bruner took to the stage, complete with drummer and keyboard player in tow, while brandishing a six-stringed bass guitar and a hat that could have challenged even Snoop Dogg's pimp status.
In spite of gig's album launch-party status, Thundercat's sparse use of album cuts was nothing short of breath taking, even if a little confusing at first. Throughout the entire set, intermittent breakdowns of recognisable musical snippets were masterfully deployed; just long enough to grab the attention of the audience and tease them with what could have been, only for the awe-inspiringly talented three-piece to descend into what could only be described as eight minute long acid jazz freak-outs.
This jaw dropping jam session which the audience were invited to witness acted as a statement of intent to the bold, musical prowess of the performers. From the drummer; whose solo halfway through the show made Garth from Wayne's World's tom-trashing look tame, to the sweat drenched, hyper-coloured keyboard player whose lightning quick (possibly on steroids?) fingers were matched only by his facial expressions, it was clear for all to see that these cats were at the top of their musical game.
Bruner was strangely charismatic for someone who was obviously so deep inside the music as he made full, almost surgical use of his six-stringed bass, leading the group from high octane funk (by way of his angelic vocal offerings) to a full blown horror/porn soundtrack with the nod of his (now hatless) head. During-a stripped bare, borderline euphoric call and answer rendition of Seasons (from debut album The Golden Age of Apocalypse) with the crowd, Thundercat's set reached the feel good climax of the evening.
The trio's ability to skip between pure jazz hedonism and sing-a-long, closing-night-at-a-festival vibes, without ever appearing pretentious or misguided, was nothing short of inspirational. When, during one of the very short and rare breaks for breath taken by the band, a solitary voice rang out from the crowd announcing with clear sincerity “I wana be you”, no one laughed, or judged, or even questioned the claim. Just like the music (and Thundercat's performance as a whole) it made perfect sense, no matter how unlikely.
Listen to Lapalux on Pulse Radio.