The Oxford Art Factory was the venue of choice on Saturday night. With smokers filling up Oxford Street just outside of the club’s confines, the gig being declared ‘sold out’ by midnight (to many a punter’s confusion) and the drunken rants that ensued… You could tell we were in for a long night. And it’s no wonder the club’s popularity has been on the rise since it first opened its doors. With reasonably priced beers (other clubs take note) and eccentric artwork and decor, it was the perfect setup for the mayhem Andrew Weatherall was set to unleash.
I arrived at the club to find Simon Caldwell behind the wheels. He played the perfect set for his timeslot, with the midtempo beats as strange as they were wonderful. As Jimmi James hit the decks he slowly but surely upped the intensity and tempo to lead into the man of the night, Andrew Weatherall. Our headliner was billed to play a four-hour set, something you don’t see much of these days and something I hope occurs more frequently around our city. Being given four hours behind the decks allows the DJ to dig deep into his record box, and with a record box as deep as Andrew Weatherall’s, it gave every chance for the audience to gain an intimate insight into the man’s musical knowledge.
Hailing from England, Andrew has a long list of credentials behind him. Having produced some of the most seminal bands to come out of England during the 80s (*My Bloody Valentine* and Primal Scream for instance), and remixed everyone from Bjork to New Order, his musical repertoire goes deep. After hearing Andrew’s Sci-Fi-Low-Fi mix (out through Soma/Inertia), I was expecting to hear an eclectic night of techno, acid, house, rockabilly and whatever other genre you could care to mention. But much to my disappointment, this was not the case.
Rather, for better or for worse, listening to Weatherall’s performance was like I had been magically transported to all the myths and wonder of the Hacienda era… Drugs, Sex and Techno. His set was characterised by a pounding kick drum, long breakdowns and some of the most psychotic synthetic sounds you will hear in this lifetime. One of the tracks he played, Tsunami, offers the perfect representation of his set (which went down with a rapturous applause). The music was intense, energy filled and just forced you to dance… Which was pretty much my problem with his set. For the whole four hours it was just pounding techno music, very functional in its purpose and mechanical in its concepts. There was very little variation in rhythm and soundscapes, and this made (for me anyway) a dull night of music.
That being said, if you’re a fan of non-stop head caving music you would have thoroughly enjoyed this gig. Andrew was exceptional behind the turntables, using really clever tricks to maintain the energy throughout his four set and never missing a beat. The music was so out of this world that the ‘life drawing class’ that was being held in the middle room seemed so normal. And adding to my amusement, the ‘artist’ who was drawing the naked model was scrappily sketching an outline of the couch as opposed to the curves of the woman.
It was about 4:30am when Andrew’s set came to a close. And as I came home from the gig, placing Screamadelica on my record player I came to a worldly epiphany… Never have any expectations, because more than likely (especially when dealing with someone of Andrew Weatherall’s repertoire) you will get hit with the unexpected…
