It’s fair to say that as part of their contemporary music offering over the last year or so the Attenborough Centre has given us a sizeable sweep of electronic music. William Basinski’s flamboyant tape looping, Alessandro Cortini’s mesmeric ambient landscapes, Creep Show’s dogged electro punch and Gazelle Twin’s disorientating dramatics, we’ve seen so much and now comes Clark.
It’s been twenty years since his debut ‘Clarence Park’ on the venerable Warp label and from then he’s worked his way into the higher echelons of the IDM world with a consistent flow of impressive albums and spin-offs. From the fusion of electronica and live instrumentation on ‘Body Riddle’ through to the techno blast of ‘Turning Dragon’ and onto the exquisite orchestrations of ‘Playground in a Lake’, Clark is a dependable shape shifter, never quite following the same frequency with any release. Last year’s acclaimed ‘Sus Dog’ album saw him add yet another dimension to his music, bringing his own vocals and song conventions to the fore with the assistance of some guy called Thom Yorke.
So there’s more than a crackle of expectation as the anoraks, beanie hats and caps sidle into the ACCA hall, eyeing the stage tech for evidence of Clark’s intentions for the night ahead. But first up support for the evening comes from French-Swedish electronic musician and sound artist Johanna Bramli. A significant part of the experimental music community in Brighton, Bramli has amongst other things worked with Fujiya & Miyagi’s Steve Lewis as a duo in Fröst and released her debut EP ‘Spirals’, on local imprint Little Miss Echo Recordings. Live presentations of her own music are rare but tonight’s set shows little hesitancy as it uncurls, elegant and assured.
Bramli’s opening eases gracefully into the hall: a slow, subtle pulse rather than any definable beat; ethereal, floating vocals; and a grand organ pattern that loops with a ceremonial certainty. Gothic shadows merge with lush dream wave layers but there is a structure here, a song framework where sections repeat as anchors rather than hooks. Bramli’s music has a sense of purpose and like Anna von Hausswolff’s work steers clear of aimless drift.
She also refreshingly steps away from a trope of many electronic performances and talks to us between songs, which if nothing else is a handy prop for any reviewer post gig. Her second number she tells us is ‘They too shall pass’, which sets a delicate piano pattern against earthy rhythms before the long dive into a swirl of sound. Throughout Bramli portrays a focused calm, gliding between her tech components with a pianist’s poise.
Beth Walker’s stunning visual projections are integral to the dramatic thrust of Bramli’s performance tonight. Microscopic in detail, throbbing with volcanic colours, abstract but also beautifully emotive, they fill each contour and crevasse of the soundscape with a fluent visual commentary. As the last piece slides away to a whisper there’s a thoughtful hush in the room. Job done – more again soon please.
Clark’s set that follows couldn’t be more of a contrast, a full throttle, high octane blast of unrestrained sonic energy. It starts with the chatter of coding as his table of electronic gizmos scramble in readiness. Then with the on/off flash of a single spotlight, the chest crushing pummel of the sub bass cranks up while an off kilter piano tears at the rhythm. As the music jabs through synth heavy kosmische zones and onto a frantic glitch work out, the intention here is clear. Tonight Clark is locked into pursuing full blown techno-rave mayhem.
This show is focused on projection rather than reflection, exertion not immersion. The banks of intense lighting shoot beams at the head-nodding crowd while the strobes cut through the eerie haze (more of that later). At times you catch Clark in the onstage shadows, bent close to his console, orchestrating a network of syncopation for us with relentless concentration.
Die-hard fans with an encyclopaedic knowledge of Clark’s catalogue might be able to pick out recognisable representations from his albums but the impression is that this set is more bespoke. Perhaps unexpectedly there appears to be little drawn from the song based, intriguingly vocal ‘Sus Dog/Cave Dog’ releases of last year. Still for all the knee trembling volume that comes our way there is plenty of covert, complex variation.
Over a pulsating forty -five minutes Clark draws on beats and textures from Metalheadz drum and bass through to more deliberate stomp of the big beats era. At one point there are snatches of anthemic house piano, at another samples whip in with a hip-hop sharpness. Not that the set is a messy mash-up, because Clark wires all these references obliquely into music that is identifiably his own.
The evening also packs an additional surprise. As some brutal industrial cross rhythms test the ACCA infrastructure to their limits and the haze effect reaches smog levels the music weakly fizzles to an unsatisfactory mumble, then stops. Is this the final twist….no the fire alarms have been set off. Clark exits and off we dutifully troop into the outside cool.
Credit to the venue team, the evacuation is calm plus the safety checks swift and credit to Clark, he doesn’t call it quits. Twenty minutes later off we go again, the strobes spiralling as the buzz cut synths urgently whirr. If anything the momentum after the enforced pause shifts upwards as everything pushes onto a mind-scrambling double time peak.
Clark at the Attenborough Centre was a gig that will rattle in people’s memory banks for a while. A show that at times threw you off guard or put you on the defensive with its unremitting dynamics but which on stepping back you’ll remember for its impact and recognise for its significance.
Find out more about the upcoming Brighton Festival shows and beyond at the ACCA HERE
The Attenborough Centre For Creative Arts, Thursday 21st March 2024
Words by John Parry
Photos by Victor Frankowski
