The line to Slake is long and narrow, just like the venue. After a short wait and small talk with the soon-to-be-spunions, we enter what looks like the perfect mix of a Soviet satellite nation bomb shelter and a club where extras from the movies “Hackers” and “The Matrix” would chill. Lo and behold a scene of glow in the dark raver toys and frantic stage lights revealing fractal/sacred geometry tattoos. It’s 30 degrees warmer and they literally have 2 cages in the crowd on the welded to the wall 15 feet up by stage right. I overhear two girls next to me: “How much do I have to pay you to get in that cage?” “Zero dollars!”
Overall, Slake bears witness to above ground Grammy winning EDM culture meeting the decades old underground scruples of bass. Most importantly, the sound in the venue is excellent. Props to the sound tech; the shape of the Performance hall is sort of an acoustician’s dream. The speakers in the chandelier room are very high end, which can be a nice relief from the bass vibrating your insides at a vociferous decibel.
SOOHAN starts the night with dark hip-hop grooves and esoteric samples. His beats thundered under Missy Elliot style a cappellas, North Indian raga melodies, and even Mongolian throat singing. Toothy grins are the brightest thing in the audience as the loops give off vibes of joy spiked with deviousness. The light structure on stage seems to be triggered by the bass and kicks but then ago, so do the chicks moves in spandex. SOOHAN is a compelling producer and the track you definitely need to hear to get that familiar head nod is “Super Heady Spiritual Gangster”.
Esseks goes on to perform next. He has a crazed, ambitious look gleaming from the whites of his eyes behind his Mac. If you stare deep enough, you see how he spends his painstaking hours and days not on stage. You can see ideas expressed coming to fruition. You can see the mad scientist rhythm as he bounces over the computer screen and controller, and it further shows the passion this producer brings to performing. A low F saw Bass grinds through the air like a robotic cello string, bouncing about the space in between bodies. What I love about Esseks is how he produces rhythm. Every space in each measure has it own hits. Hi hats, snares, and kicks are always busy but never over occupied or muddy. He sways to the 8th notes while the crowd bounces on the quarter note. Track you should check out? “Human Music”, I like it.
Space Jesus receives a messianic greeting as he cris-crosses through general admission up the steps to the stage. It’s as soon as he’s in position, emptying the contents of his backpack and setting up that I realize, at this moment, it stopped being a show. Everyone in the building not only loves Space Jesus’ music, but also has a personal connection to the music that keeps coming back. The vibe is celebratory, from this point on its an album release party, not an album release show. He doesn’t live in Brooklyn anymore, so now he’s more of a kind of heady homecoming king. He grabs the mic and says, “New York, you smell like shit and I love it.” Within moments the set begins, and Space Jesus proudly announces the world debut of Pipus.
Pipus is the resident traplord on Close Encounters. It becomes a turn up session of ignorant proportions. The floor is rattling along with all the speakers and monitors. There’s a hand on each of my shoulders from someone random shaking back and forth, which is turning dangerously close to head banging, leading to circle pits and moshing. Being the small town New England kid that I am, I instinctively raise my arms to head level with cocked elbows ready, but luckily that doubles as 808 stank face dance moves as well. Gfunk synth lines, Rick Ross-esque 32nd note high hats, and expert ad-libbing from SJ clearly represent the hip-hop side of his not quite but both hip-hop and electronica sound. It goes on for hours, old tracks and new.
A highlight for me was anytime the MC, Honeycomb, had a mic. He’s a world-class beatboxer, and they performed the track “Sycamore” off the new album. With a pulpit like stance on stage, a front row spot at a Space Jesus show if violating. The samples take over your memory (being that he’s sampled Yoda, Lil Wayne, and the movie “Aladdin”) and bass invades everywhere. His music is not for the faint of ear. You scream, you jump, you sweat, and you smile. It’s an occasion to rejoice in psychedelic weirdness. Can you hear the call? If not, just wait for the drop.
As for the new album, what he said in our interview rings true (interview here). He said, “I’ve worked about 2 years on this album, which is the longest I’ve spent on a piece of music…one thing I really wanted to do was put together one cohesive album. This is that cohesive album…. I’ve been writing a lot of tracks over the last two years, but I would sit with the intention of this one is going to be for Close Encounters. So it was like one out of every 3 songs I was writing for Close Encounters.”
It’s a new adventure for him. Producers tend to make music track by track because of their workflows and the business that has been created around them. Why cut an album of 12 songs with 2 singles at a bigwig recording studio when you can spend individually as much time as you like on each track, giving it your all in terms of composition and promotion? Having a home studio (or a laptop, DAW, and headphones) makes the business of music less about investing in album making with the hope it sells and more about just making it.
That being said, there is something artistic lost in the businesslike pursuit of “check out my track” every couple months. Making an album involves wider concentration and a deeper focus. The painters do it when they make a series of paintings using a certain shade of green they love until it runs out. Potters do it on the wheel when they want to make a certain shape vase, cup, etc. making an electronic album is a conscious choice to say what you need to say in more than one set 3 minutes and 30 seconds. Sonically, Close Encounters pulls together melodic dissonance and smooth rhythms in its gravitational force. It takes more energy to stay still hearing its songs than to let loose. Fellow computer music enthusiasts, turn the lights down low, the bass way up, and let Space Jesus bequeath to you his Close Encounters. [Purchase Close Encounters here].
Words by Jack Sheehan, Photos by James Bell. Full Gallery:
