popwreckoning

It’s hard to believe that Tindersticks are back with a new recording less than two years after The Hungry Saw, an album that was a comeback of sorts for a band who hadn’t released anything in five years. It was reasonable to assume they’d take that long again, but it seems like Saw really brought the band together and returned them to creativity. Falling Down a Mountain is the current result, and it’s not bad.

The band’s enthusiasm and excitement at working are obvious throughout, so much so that, for the most part, it doesn’t even have that gloomy Tindersticks feel to it. Instead it feels quite joyful in parts, joyful and sunny, and Stuart Staples‘ singing even sounds happy (though not all the time, of course; they’d be a different band otherwise). It’s a change, an unexpected one, but it’s quite nice to listen to a band who so seem to enjoy what they’re doing and aren’t just going through the process for the sake of a contract or something — here’s a band who sound like they’re doing what they do simply because they want to, and they do it very well.

Having said that, there is a kind of rushed feel to the album that, for me, makes it slightly less satisfying than Saw. There are ten tracks in all, showcasing a variety of sounds and moods, from the brooding (“Falling Down a Mountain”) to the forgettable (“Peanuts”), and it’s all over rather abruptly. The songs and tracks don’t seem to mesh together as well as those on Saw did either, the overall effect leaving me wanting. A sharper critic may note that at times it feels like the band are following a kind of Tindersticks formula — there are instrumentals, spaghetti-western latin sounds, horns galore, and motown soul trappings. But I’m not that sharp, and while the album may not seem as whole as Saw did, there are enough stand-out moments to make it all worthwhile.

Maybe you first received Vampire Weekend‘s self-titled debut like I did. Their African-inspired sounds were a sunny change and I listened to the album a good few times and liked it; I tried to see them live but that proved impossible as, by the time I’d heard of them, they were already beyond cool. I read articles on their possible influences here and there and started checking out the world music section of used record shops, even buying a couple of discs. Then, inevitably, something else came along and the Vampire Weekend album got lost in the far recesses of my external hard drive. Ezra Koenig‘s voice popped up on a few tracks as a guest, most notably on the Very Best‘s Warm Heart of Africa. But to be honest, I didn’t really think I’d hear much about the band again, or that they’d regain the amount of attention they had got for their debut — after all they’re not new anymore, we all have read and (in my case) forgotten their story, and this time around would there be the novelty of a different sound to draw us in? My feelings may not be all that common though. I know at least some of my fellow writers are looking forward to new material by the band; but in a fast-moving popscene, new work by the “it” band of a few years ago might simply be lost in the shuffle.

Which would be a shame, as VW’s new one, Contra, is a pleasant affair that’s well worth checking out. The band haven’t found a new gimmick, which is thoroughly appropriate — would anyone take them seriously if this time round they experimented with Indian raags or Indonesian gamelan (ripe for an indie makeover though it is)? No, instead VW have done the only thing they could do, which is update their sound slightly while still retaining the elements that make them who they are.

The biggest change to me is the band’s use of more electronic sounds. That might not sound too great to you if it was the afropop guitar that drew you in in the first place, but it’s really not bad. The rhythms retain their worldly vibe, and in a way the update makes sense — think of it as an afropop sound from the 90s instead of the 80s or something (sorry, despite recent purchases my knowledge of African music is still very limited); synths have been picked up, but the music has the same signatures as before, and besides it’s only noticeable on a few songs. Koenig’s distinctive voice grounds the album and is by now pleasingly familiar — on first listen, I really thought of it as his album less than as a band album. On further listen, though, it would be unfair to dismiss the musical contributions of the rest of the band, who provide a backing that ranges from manic on “Cousins” to soothing on “I think U R A Contra.” Themes of escape, regret, and loss are backed with some ornate string and piano arrangements, with a harpsichord popping up at one point as well. The band’s world seems to have expanded somewhat, or at least gotten less specific — I only heard one reference to Manhattan, and none to popular holiday destinations in the North East, despite the cover art featuring a preppy looking blonde girl complete with ruffled polo shirt.

A good effort then, and if you were a fan of their past work I’d recommend this album to you. Don’t let new single “Cousins” put you off, as that song is really more of an anomaly, and doesn’t represent this collection very well. I’m still hoping their stars have dimmed somewhat though — it’ll be easier to get concert tickets that way.

Track Listing:

1. Horchata
2. White Sky
3. Holiday
4. California English
5. Taxi Cab
6. Run
7. Cousins
8. Giving Up The Gun
9. Diplomat’s Son
10. I Think Ur A Contra

Top 3 Albums of 2009:

• The XX – The XX

Great debut from the young Londoners but I’m wondering where they’ll go next — definitely on the shortlist for most over-hyped of the year too.

• Peter, Bjorn, and John – Living Thing

Loved it, loved them live too, got a whole new appreciation for the band and their music.

• Fever Ray – Fever Ray

Dark, foreboding, icey. Electronic folk songs from the female half of the Knife — no beards, acoustic guitars, or whimsy necessary, thanks very much.

• Worthy mention goes to a compilation that’s probably advertised on UK TV channels — Ministry of Sound’s 3-CD Anthems: Electronic 80′s set. Chock full of great tunes, it might not be indie-cool but it definitely brings multiple smiles to the face (how could it not with the tracks by Heaven 17, Ultravox, New Order, Blondie, the Pet Shop Boys and just about every other great 80′s keyboard act out there?). Thanks to my London-based brother for sending it this way.

Best Show of 2009:

• Show of the year for me was the Prodigy on their return tour. They sold out the 930 Club here in DC, but luckily I found a decent deal on Craigslist. I found myself partying with a crowd full of 30 somethings reliving their late 90s teenage raving in a big way. Every song got the crowd jumping and I now know that being old can mean having a massive grin on your face while your old fave band plays your old fave tracks. There was definitely a danger that they’d be a mockery of their former selves, and that the new tracks would be a let down. As it happened their timing was perfect and their live show was just as tight as in their heyday. My only complaint? They didn’t play “No Good.” Maybe next time?

• Other highs: Movement Detroit, Tindersticks, Cut Copy

Bristol, UK noisemakers Fuck Buttons are back with Tarot Sport, the follow-up to last year’s Street Horrrsing. Andrew Weatherall has been brought in to produce this time round and his touch is evident in a few places.

Fuck Buttons’ post-rock sound is akin to bands like Mogwai, which makes sense as their first album was produced by Mogwai’s John Cummings. The textures on Street Horrrsing fell on the experimental end of the spectrum, the duo not going in for the ecstatic build-up model, but instead sticking with noise and drone and indecipherably distorted vocals, with organ washes being one of the few concessions to warmth in their sound. Tarot Sport retains some of those elements, while expanding on certain motifs. The distorted vocals have been reduced and the tribal aspect apparent on some of the Street Horrrsing tracks is entirely absent here.

“The Lisbon Maru” is probably the most familiar-sounding track; soft organ overlays the militaristic drums while layers are added on, leading the track to culminate in feedbacky guitar squalls. The sounds on “Surf Solar” seem cleaner, the beat a bit meatier, and it all sounds a bit more digital, with shades of Weatherall’s Sabres of Paradise coming through to my ears. The Sabres touch is also there on “Phantom Limb,” with it’s very processed beats and chopped up synthy sound — not a bad thing at all, especially if you miss that Sabres/old Warp sound. Other tracks trade the more chopped and complex beats for something straighter and more repetitive, giving the tracks what I (probably mistakenly) think of as a Krautrock sound.

Overall, things are a little less rock and a bit more toward the more skewed-yet-warm side of electronic music (meaning it’s pretty undanceable). Think Autechre, Aphex, et al. Having said that there is still liberal use of guitar feedback to be found amongst the autobahn beats and glitchy beeps, and the album is one of those rare birds that works together as one concept and one piece of music. Final track “Flight of the Feathered Serpent” exemplifies that by echoing sounds used throughout the album and synthesising them into an uptempo and positive finale.

Track Listing:
01. Surf Solar
02. Rough Steez
03. The Lisbon Maru
04. Olympians
05. Phantom Limb
06. Space Mountain
07. Flight Of The Feathered Serpent

Fuck Buttons: website | myspace

Sindri Mar Sigfusson, aka Sin Fang Bous (or Sin Fang Blues Brothers as he asked us to call him) looks like an even more baby-faced Beck and is just as cuddly. It’s a rare occasion that I check out a support act as I hate waiting around for the main act to come on (why do they insist on taking so long?), but Sing Fang Bous’ warm and fuzzy sounds were a pleasant welcome to the friendly space of the Black Cat. Low-key retro pop was the order of the day, and, while it wasn’t revolutionary, it was certainly enjoyable, with a refreshingly sparse and pure sound — no unnecessary quirks. Elements ranged from folky acoustic guitar with handclaps to sea shantyish organ sounds, the best tunes being the simpler ones. He ended with “Life,” a song in the epic-indie style, which I found the least engaging. The milder stuff was better, something I’d happily settle down with now that winter approaches and the nights get darker.

In contrast to the simpler pleasures of Sigfusson, Múm are a multi-instrumental band of multi-instrumentalists, with a rotating string and guitar section, at least three dedicated singers, as well as bass, organ, trumpet, laptop, kazoos, mouth-organ, harmonica, and drummer, and some other stuff I don’t know the name of. They were suitably foreign, all wide eyes, cute phrases and smiles, funny clothes and haircuts, just the kind of thing an indie crowd laps up (though perhaps it wasn’t part of the act? Maybe their clothes and haircuts reflect the collapse of the Icelandic economy?). I went in to the show having heard some of the older stuff and expected some ethereal ambient female-led electronica with some good glitchy beats, a bit Sigor Ros, a bit Bjork. What I ended up hearing was a little more down to earth and more along quirky indie lines, apparently a reflection of where the band is now, which is fair enough.

They started out very soothingly, to the point where I began to wonder if their choir-like sound worked well in a space like the Black Cat, with it’s low ceiling and basement vibe (though it’s actually on the top floor). Soft electric slide guitar and mournful trumpet carried on the warm tones from Sin Fang Bous on “If I Were a Fish.” Other early songs made use of the strings and voices supplied by Hildur Guðnadóttir and Sigurlaug Gisladottir and the sound was quite experimental, with good use of the trumpet in particular. Gunnar Örn Tynes seemed to play the role of band leader and whipped out his mouth organ fairly often. He looked faintly ridiculous, but the toy-like sound fitted in well with the overall calming mood of the songs.

Later on things were more uptempo, Múm’s amazing rhythm section working as well as a drum machine to get people’s feet moving. Playground 8-bit beats were layered with shimmery guitar; a cowbell was heard while Guðnadóttir and Gisladottir added theatrical (and somewhat overemphasised) yelps; whale-like bass backed up what sounded like a heavy rock christmas carol. The Orb-like dub and skittery beats of “A Little Bit, Sometimes” were particularly impressive, the overlayed mouth-organ bringing Red Snapper to mind. The electronic side of Múm is definitely impressive, but sadly there somewhat twee indie-rock side is less so — kazoo and harmonica orchestras are amusing, but an extended jam that seemed to last twenty minutes started to grate. Some of the latter dynamics were also predictable — loud-quiet, female-male, fast-slow. It’ll get most of the crowd going but it’s not particularly clever. Having said that “Sing Along” was scary and unhinged which seemed very apt for some reason. Live bird whistles were employed before the song vapourised into a rock lullaby echoing from the 50′s. The encore made up for the somewhat lagging final third of the show. “Green Grass of Tunnel” has that glacial vibe I was looking forward to, and the band stretch it out live into something far more filmic, with elements of the Cocteau Twins and (sorry) Bjork, and some glorious floor-shaking bass.

A bit of a mixed bag then, but something to satisfy most indie-rock fans and even some electronica ones, if they don’t mind their beats a little buried under the avant-garde.

Múm: website | myspace

see part 1 of Movement 2009 here

Saturday evening was round two and a bigger crowd was out to enjoy the beats in slightly cooler weather, the wind whipping in off the river to end the sweatiness. As we drove into the city on Jefferson Avenue it was clear the festival had moved along since the previous night — American Appareled young folk and your more regular ravers were on the streets, and beats could be heard while we went to find parking. Dennis Ferrer was on the main stage as we walked in but I wasn’t too impressed with the jazzy noodly house I heard.

We went over to catch the end of Tiefschwarz, one of the artists I’d wanted to see ahead of time thanks to some good M.A.N.D.Y. remixes I’d heard. They were finishing up on the Beatport stage with some deep house and had taken the party on to the stage with them. They were quickly followed by fellow Germans the Wighnomy Brothers who played techy sounds and also had a crowded stage (something I saw a lot in the Beatport area, which seemed to attract the more hedonistic DJs, and had the largest dancing crowds during the day).

We went off to the Red Bull stage, probably the most experimental stage at Movement, to check out Londoner Neil Landstrumm. I’m glad we did as his was the first impressive set of the day for me (though I’m not sure my friends agreed, they were more into the four to the floor stuff). Landstrumm mixed up harder techno with early rave sounds and breaks and threw some dubsteppy bass on top that was pretty stunning. It was a great mash-up of styles and one onlooker put it well when he declared himself  “mesmerized by the nastiness.” The concrete pyramid was crowded to the top for the set, while dance-off circles formed in front of the stage.

It was at this point that I found myself reflecting on what a unique experience this was. I’m sure if you look hard enough you can find an electronic music scene in most American cities, but how often can you drive to your local downtown and partake in a huge techno festival? One that’s fully supported by the city and has helpful local police patrolling it rather than trying to shut it down? Standing there by the Detroit River, surrounded by lads dancing like it was 1983, noting the diversity and the good vibes, I was happy to have some association with the D. Then I saw the ‘Recycle Detroit’ booth and thought “how ironic,” before heading to the Made in Detroit stage.

Scotty Deep and Marc Kinchen were holding it down underground with music loud enough to rattle teeth, a filtered electro sound with a hard techno edge. It was as crowded as ever down there but I managed to bump into an old DJ friend regardless. A nice part of the festival was seeing the same faces throughout the day, recognizing people despite the huge numbers. I saw the French bloke from the plane at least twice and it lent to a familiar and friendly feeling. I also noted how many people seemed to have wandered in just to check out what was going on. Kudos to Paxahau for keeping entry prices low enough for people to be able to just show up for a day out, as if they’d thought “let’s check out this electronica thing in the city.” The event seemed to serve as a bit of a magnet to get people into Detroit, kids in tow (though I didn’t see any pets) — seemed like a big change to me, as I remember many metro-Detroiters who’d never been downtown.

But back to the music and back to Dennis Ferrer, who finished his set off nicely with some harder techno sounds that were at the same time melodic and mellow, perfect for some of the incense-waving kids in the crowd (a first, and I’m not sure what the point is cos the Detroit river isn’t even particularly stinky). After that it was back over to the Red Bull stage and RJD2. The crowd here was now spilling out into the vendor area as the DJ played mellow melancholy hip hop and soul samples to a concrete mountain full of hands in the air. He seemed to mix into a new track every minute, and it was his skills on the decks that really got people excited — the music itself ended up feeling a bit disjointed and was hard to get into. He also had a very violent backdrop video, which I think is worth noting.

After a bit of that it was back to the four to the floor stuff and Luciano vs Loco Dice on the main stage, another act who’d got the crowd up and out of the amphitheater they were playing in. Their start left me cold though so I left my mates behind and wandered back underground to check out closer Anthony Rother. He proved to be another stand out act and the glowsticks were out! Rother put together a great live techno set, which isn’t something you come across too often. The squelchy synth stabs and washes were accompanied by his own distorted industrial vocals. He created an overall feeling of darkness, which was a sharp contrast to the more positive party vibes I’d gotten used to at Movement. The music was complex and muffled by a dense swamp of reverb but still had enough peaks to keep the crowd dancing and whooping.

The rave-era siren blasts helped in that regard and I found it hard to pull away to check out the main stage again. Rother helped me out by playing some squealing high notes — not good, and enough to get me to join my friends back in front of Luciano and Loco Dice. They’d gotten into a nice house groove by that point and the crowd dancing along was huge. I had other events to get to though and had to drag myself away, stopping repeatedly to turn around on the way out. I left the festival to their tunes bouncing off the skyscrapers around me and the streets around Hart plaza crowded with people out to enjoy themselves in a uniquely Detroit way.

Leaving the city, I couldn’t help but feel reflective again. There I was, in Detroit, a city bearing the brunt of the economic meltdown, and a place that had already been much maligned even before that (Murder City, anyone?). But on that spring night, surrounded by skyscrapers, house beats ringing around and into my ears, the people mover trundling over top, I felt like I was in a good place, in Detroit as it’s meant to be — one of the edgier cities in the US, and probably the only one that could put a festival like Movement on and give it the attention it deserves. I hope Detroit turns out to be a forward-looking city, and I only expect Movement to get better — next year is the 10th anniversary and Carl Craig has already signed up as the creative director. I might not make it onto that Montreal train, but a return trip to Detroit is definitely on the cards.

More than 80,000 people. That’s how many showed up for Movement 2009 in Detroit, which must make the festival the biggest one of it’s kind in the United States, if not North America (how many people make it out to Mutek? Not sure).

The pre-event buzz on my favorite dance site Resident Advisor was big; some PW readers might be shocked to hear that a festival set in the apparently dying Motorcity is well-regarded internationally and attracts attendees from around the globe (including a French bloke sitting behind me on the plane from DCA). GM and Chrysler may have gone bust but one Detroit industry is alive and well and people are snapping up it’s exports all over the world. Don’t know what I’m talking about? I’m talking about techno, whose origins can be traced back to Detroit in the 80s.

Dancing to an electronic beat may have never really taken off properly in the USA, but the rest of the planet loves it, and Detroit is the respected birthplace of the… movement (sorry, had to). Formerly known as the Detroit Electronic Music Festival, Movement is in its ninth year now and, happily, it’s gone from strength to strength — this year’s attendance was up about 10,000 from last year. I hadn’t been down to Hart Plaza and the festival since the early 2000s (the last time I was there was as a petitioner, earning money for every signature I got and meeting electronic music fans from all over — I also got to see Innercity live!) but this year I was home for Memorial Day weekend and a trip downtown was inevitable. Last minute arrangements worked out so off I went, curious friends in tow, to bask in the Michigan sun and revel with a crowd of techno-heads, localites, and on-lookers.

DEMF was free for its first few years, which made it unique among the few festivals that are put on on this scale. It’s no longer free, but a weekend pass bought on the internet, good for three days, was only $50, a bargain considering the number of stages (four), the number of acts (80), and some of the big names in attendance (Carl Cox, Ellen Allien, Carl Craig, Benga, RJD2, Kevin Saunderon, Derrick May, Benny Benassi, Audion). By comparison, two-day tickets to New York’s Electric Zoo festival, held over the Labor day weekend, are $225! Multiple pre-parties, post-parties, and just parties, turn Detroit into a dance-music fan’s overwhelming buffet — so much to choose from in such a short time, including the Prodigy at the official pre-party on Friday night. This year’s festival came just before the Mutek festival in Montreal, and hardcore fans could finish up Movement, pop across the border to Windsor, Ontario, and get specially discounted trains to Montreal to keep the party going for a few more days. That wasn’t an option for me, not this year anyway, but it’s nice to see these festivals, and perhaps the Canadian train system, seemingly working together to make life a little easier for the people, and in an eco-friendly way to boot.

I got down to the concrete playground that is Hart Plaza around mid-day that first day. It’s built on the Detroit river in the city’s downtown, next to the Renaissance Centre, which is GM’s world headquarters, and Cobo Hall, site of the North American International Motor Show. The blue of the Detroit river is on one side, with Windsor’s green parks across the way; on the other side are Detroit’s skyscapers, a reminder of the past, when Detroit was the fourth biggest city in America (did you know that Detroit had the third most skyscrapers in the country? You do now. Now it has the most abandoned ones, and was the first city to have such a thing as an abandoned skyscraper — true facts!). I couldn’t help but think about all that, as well as the recent economic troubles of the city and state, as I rolled up. There’s always been an air of defiance in these parts, and there still is. In some ways, an event like Movement seems to fit into that air — a techno-festival in a nation where rock, R ‘n’ B, and country dominate the commercialized airwaves, set in the unfashionable flatlands of the Midwest –you know, flyover country. But there’s an industrial grit to the town that makes it stand out in a different way to places like Chicago. Plus, let’s not forget that this is the same city that Robocop was set in! I wonder if techno, and it’s focus on the future, had anything do with that idea?

Things were a little slow during the first opening hours, though the sunshine was glorious and the beats were already loud. I took the time to wander around the site and eye things up. The main Vitamin Water stage dominated a sunken concrete ampitheatre, while the Red Bull Music Academy and Beatport Pacha stages were set up by the river. The Made in Detroit stage rounded things out and was set up in the subterranean gallery — it ended up being the loudest stage of the event, with the sounds ricocheting around the concrete chamber and deafening all who passed through, or at least it seemed that way.

The crowd started to thicken up as the day wore on; an eclectic mix of the average looking, hipsters, circa mid-90s rave punks (they still sell those baggy bondage trousers??), goth-teens, manga-girls in day-glow furry boots, low-key insiders, and the Detroit Police. They were joined by vendors, activists, petitioners (I know why you were there!), local tourists, and a scary Red Bull truck playing some hard drum-n-bass and dubstep. Kids and babies were also in attendance, thankfully protected with ear-plugs, a little reminder that this music isn’t new any more, which makes it weirder that it’s still alien to many.

First act on my radar was Drumcell, playing some hard tech sounds on the main stage. Things were good but the stage and ampitheatre were just too big and empty at that point, so I moved on to the concrete pyramid opposite the Red Bull stage to take in the ambient washes of noise from the Sight Below, the only time I saw a guitar at the festival. His atmospheric sounds would make good comedown music but were a little low-key for my mates to start out with. We headed over to hear SF’er Nikola Baytala on the Beatport stage instead. A larger crowd had gathered there, possibly because it’s the greenest part of the plaza, with the stage facing the river and allowing the crowd to spread out onto the grass and under the trees to enjoy Baytala’s more soulful sounds. It was easy to feel some mellow vibes in this setting, and dancing in the open was a treat in this park-like place in the middle of the city. Baytala’s two hour set was followed by Heidi, who’s pretty much a local — she may have left for London, and she may live in Berlin now, but she could see her hometown of Windsor from the stage. That could be why she seemed to have as good a time as anyone in the crowd during her set — it’s always nice to see a DJ who dances. Heidi’s hands-in-the-air moments were replicated by the thick crowd that formed to check her out.

It was time to go underground for a bit and see what was happening in the gallery at the Made in Detroit stage. Things were decidedly murky down there, murky and smokey, which made for a perfect place for all the rave- and goth-teens to hang out and compare day-glo clothing/heavy black eye shadow and make new friends. Some of the kids wore gas-masks; I’m not sure if that was a condemnation of the smoke effects or if it had something to do with Amyl Nitrate. Or maybe they were afraid of catching swine flu? That’s probably what it was.

Detroit native Shaun Reeves, another DJ who’s moved on to Berlin, was on stage playing some funky house to the masses dancing in the pit below. Lack of earplugs made that cavern a bit too deafening for me, plus there were so many overlapping acts that stopping for too long in any one place didn’t seem like a good option, so we moved on. Next stop was Lusine on the Red Bull stage. Many of the Red Bull acts, including Lusine, were playing live rather than DJing; he’s also one of the acts on local label Ghostly International, who are celebrating their 10 year anniversary this year and who brought seven acts to Movement. Lusine’s live work gave his sound an organic feel that made the grooves easy to get into and appreciate from the massive concrete pyramid in front of the stage. Kate Simko followed, another Ghostly act enjoying a day out in the sun while playing live versions of her deep and melodic house and techno sounds. She looked a little dwarfed by the stage but she seemed to be enjoying herself.

Things got a bit more international later on. Damian Lazarus, the main man at Crosstown Rebels, was DJing at the Beatport stage so we moseyed on over to gawp at him from the back of a large crowd. Movement has enough clout to attract some big names, which makes it all the more fun for attendees who are coming from further afield. In Detroit this is apparently a source of tension, with some local artists advocating for more local acts at a local event. I hope they can strike a nice balance between time for the Detroit locals and time for DJs and acts from elsewhere — events like this are so rare in the States anyway that it would be a shame for them to get too parochial. Maybe the natives don’t realize how much out-of-towners like me need a big event like Movement to get our dance music fix? Local acts are great, but the presence of acts like Lazarus surely has something to do with the big number of attendees the festival is able to attract. Anyway, that’s my addition to that debate.

Lazarus himself played some dirty sleazy sounds that went well with his slightly seedy Blue-Oyster-bar-in-Police-Academy look. I was actually expecting his selection to be a bit more leftfield instead of straight electronic, as that’s what I’ve heard on his podcasts, but for this set he kept the BPM’s high and things stayed nice and dancey. Last act for me that night had to be Steve Bug, as I had a wedding to get to in the ‘burbs. Bug, one of the rare German Germans, is known for his minimal techno sound and he didn’t disappoint on that front, yet still managed to keep things nice and bouncy at the main stage, which had filled up by the evening. He was to be followed up by the dubby sounds of New York’s Francois K and then England’s superstar DJ Carl Cox. It was shame to miss ‘em both, especially Francois K as I’ve wanted to catch him for a while. Biryani and wedding cake beckoned though, so we made our way up the Lodge freeway and out to the West-side.

Stay tuned for Movement 200, part 2!