Toro y Moi w/ D/R/U/G/S – Deaf Institute, Manchester 30/07/10

Poor Chaz Bundick. Having being one of the main creators of this whole ‘chillwave’ movement that has hung over the last 12 months like some kind of hipster fog, his rise to prominence has been miraculous, resulting in this, his first UK tour. Having seen his debut London show overshadowed by it being held in the capital’s most underwhelming venue, there must’ve been higher hopes for his first show in the rainy surrounds of Manchester.

Toro y Moi were good – great even. The swaying crowd, the desperate appeals for an encore that followed the end of the set and the saddened faces at the requests being ignored were proof enough of that. For those who enjoyed the debut album Causers of This, it was a treat, the textured noise as sweet as it is on record. However, for all its wonderfully measured psychedelia and electronic haze, for anyone who’d turned up early it surely must’ve felt more like comedown music rather than the peak of the evening.

Things started well, as any show that has worriedaboutsatan as the opening act would. The Leeds duo, taking time out from their hipster-baiting with their fictional side-project V▲gynazz, served up a treat. Stood somewhat awkwardly in one corner of the stage, they layered and looped their post-rock tinged electronic to the handfuls of people present. Shorn of their customary video backing, they still managed to show how they’re a cut above most other emerging IDM acts with a 30 minute, non-stop set that ebbed and flowed in all the right places.

However, there’s no accounting for genius. What D/R/U/G/S lack in the ability to pick a band name, they more than make up for in the noise they make. Blistering from the off, the two figures hunch over their equipment and produce one of the most dominant support slots anyone in attendance is likely to have been witness too. Whilst it’s often the case that promising electronic acts wilt in the live arena, D/R/U/G/S somehow manage to dominate the room, their dark ambience radiating with energy and ideas.

At times, they verge on the brooding brilliance of the witch house movement, but remain smart enough to bring their own innovations to the table. Crucially, they don’t ever lose the attention of the audience or segue into masturbatory shows of technicality; their half hour set a breathless sprint through the material that, if record label bosses have even an ounce of sense, surely must be the basis for an upcoming release.

So, poor Chaz Bundick. His performance, though stellar, was one to be viewed as the adrenaline rush wore off, as the world slowly tessellated back into coherence. Perhaps next time he’ll ask for a band to support that isn’t destined to be an utter sensation – or perhaps he can ask D/R/U/G/S to open when they play South Carolina – which, once the hipsters pick up on them, has got to be an inevitability.