Actress w/ Three Trapped Tigers and Seams – CAMP Basement, London 10/02/11

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” a fringe that is worth the entry price alone” – Seams

As some of the more abstruse electronic genres become gradually integrated into the mainstream, and as previously unreconstructed indie kids dig deeper into bass music, the character of London shows is beginning to change. Where previously gigs would be attended either by the indie crowd or the electronic crowd, the two are now beginning to converge. Tonight at CAMP was a perfect illustration of this, with the audience split pretty evenly between those who read Vice and those who read Resident Advisor.

Seams, whose audience tonight consists primarily of the cardigan-wearing contingent, has been embraced by the indie crew to a greater degree than most of his laptop-fixated peers – and it is easy to see why. His music is instantly accessible, flitting between bucolic Four Tet-esque fluttering and Modeselektor techno.

Nipping in the bud the hackneyed criticism that electronic musicians don’t offer anything to actually watch, Seams sports a fringe that is worth the entry price alone. Even better, he positions some of his hardware so that it is facing the crowd, ensuring that everyone realises he is doing more than just pressing play.

In a live environment, Seams is at his best when he abandons his most Hebdon-like tendencies and instead goes for bass. The recent Tourist EP is very much a headphone record, and some of the quieter, music box moments struggle to hold attention live. But bottom-end-heavy tracks like ‘Hung Markets’ are engrossing, giving an indication of quite how exciting Seams could be if he continued exploring the lower frequencies.

Three Trapped Tigers sit somewhat incongruously in the middle of an otherwise laptop-based lineup. But this extraordinary band are, at heart, an electronic outfit – they just happen to play ‘conventional’ instruments.

Nothing bad can happen in the world while Three Trapped Tigers are on stage. Keyboard player Tom Rogerson looks like a happily unhinged Benedict Cumberbatch, bashing so hard at his instrument that his stand collapses. The furious relish with which the trio rattle through their set seems completely at odds with the impossibly difficult time signatures they seem to favour. Part of the genius of Three Trapped Tigers, though, is their ability to take unapologetically cerebral music and make it danceable, emotional.

The new material premiered here tonight is chock full of riffs, brimming with fantastic melodrama. On the strength of these new songs, there is every chance that this sit proudly amongst the defining records of 2011.

As Three Trapped Tigers leave the stage, the crowd swapping the gaping smiles that have become the customary reaction to their sets, a vision appears onstage, clad in black and gold. Darren Cunningham, better known as Actress, really is a sight to behold. Visually striking, all cheekbones and hyper-extended limbs, he moves in jerks and spasms, as if party to an exorcism.

The first few minutes of the set are somewhat rambling; through the sheer weight of noise it is almost impossible to discern rhythm or melody. Gradually, though, the layers of thick, bulbous sonic swaddling are removed and you realise that you are listening to something utterly beautiful.

Live shows from Actress are something of a rarity, the artist apparently preferring to DJ. This preference is pretty clear through tonights set, which is a wonderfully tiring, hopscotch-like expedition through the outer reaches of dub, jungle, and Detroit techno. Actress live is very little like Actress on record; it is far heavier, far bassier, and conspicuously free of the vocal hooks that make tracks like ‘Lost’ so recognisable.

Indeed, this is a fantastically selfish set. It is full of improvisation and experimentation, and Cunningham doesn’t seem to care if those experiments work. Sometimes, in fact, they don’t work, particularly when it comes to an occasionally heavy hand on the filter knobs. But it doesn’t matter. Cunningham has spoken about his decision to leave mistakes in his recordings, and it is these mistakes that make him such an exciting live act. Nothing he plays tonight sounds like it was made on a computer; nothing sounds unpleasantly digital. It sounds not organic, but alien, amoebic.

Cunningham finishes his set suddenly, on the off beat, and there is a feeling of air returning suddenly to a vacuum. There is a palpable sense of relief, as if the density of the music had been pushing the breath out of the crowd’s lungs.

There are moments of elated techno peppered through this set, but Actress is not interested in these easy wins. Instead, he crafts an unforgiving musical environment that, while difficult, is ultimately hugely gratifying. Terrifying, and all the better for it.

Seams photograph by Paul Bridgewater.