Bassnectar in Bellingham, Nov.
17
Nov/11/07 | art &
music
(Click here to listen to a
Bassnectar DJ set)
Story by Alex McLean, originally published in What's Up! magazine.
The last time Boogie Universal brought Bassnectar to Bellingham was about six months ago. I recall wading through the oddly garnished crowd toward the pulsating Nightlight stage and thinking: “Who the fuck are all these freaks?” and, “What are all these freaks doing packing this place on a Tuesday night?” As a fellow uniquely retarded in many ways – but especially dense when it comes to electronic music – I had no comprehension for the cult-like status embalming some of the stars in the DJ world. Furthermore, since I was just that painfully ignorant, I was very dubious that I might actually enjoy the music. My presumption was a night doomed to nothing more than observing a technical college reject who had a cute passion for tweaking his I-Pod collection.
Several hours later, with a mind pulverized as thoroughly as any jellyfish in a blender, I had different notions about my evening. The hairball on the DJ dais had melted my banana hammock with some severely ass-mangling drums and bass. And, mightily, he did summon forth the sweaty dervish of assembled freaks. So it came to pass that I, a blown turd leftover from the Grunge revolution, had been reborn a convert to these pretentiously named hoods lurking behind their cages of electronic gear. Soon I would be that frenetic fool who epileptically worships a stage presence like Bassnectar for boldly removing his fingers from a nest of smoldering knobs, winking lights, turntables and keyboards to lift one globe of their absurdly big headphones and, just maybe, stare at the crowd long enough to wag an energized fist. Electronic music stirs my midlife mocha, and whip cream on my saggy nipples couldn't get me more frothed up than the guy coming to the Nightlite this month.
Bassnectar is actually Lorin Ashton, a skinny hippie from San Fransisco. While the name “Bassnectar” conjures the image of juice squozen from a game fish (it is fun to irritate his fans with the deliberate mis-pronunciation) the DJ actually has a global following that will claim he is the driving force behind the West-coast breaks scene. Countless DJ reviews in magazines I never knew existed rave shamelessly that his beats are “revolutionary,” “kaleidoscopically brilliant,” “remarkable” and “unclassifiable.” Lacking the vocabulary of the genre myself, and weary of all the tortured sub-divisions within the DJ music culture, the best fall back seems to be Lorin's own description of his beats: “Omni-tempo Maximalism.”
The diversity of Lorin's sound is reflected not just in his prolific discography, produced mostly through San Fransisco's Om Records, but also in the type of folk who call the guy a pal. He's worked with hip hopper KRS One, Micheal Franti of Spearhead, Micheal Kang of the (mostly) bluegrass String Cheese Incident, and the freakishly talented rock guitar virtuoso, Buckethead. A heavy streak of social activism runs through most, if not all, of these collaborations and Lorin is not shy about dubbing tracks from an activist, poet, or songwriter to infuse his delirious rhythms with a less digital message. Looping Saul Williams' anti war speech into a track, or naming his two most recent CDs “Underground Communication” and “Bomb the Blocks,” might give further hints to the thoughts crawling around in Lorin's hairy hippie noggin.
Since I am a member in good standing with the Boogie Universal arts collective, I had a chance to grill Erik Moore, one of the collective's founding members, about the Bassnectar phenomena. What I wanted to know, specifically, was where the fuck all the freaks had come from and, specifically, what the hell they were doing in sleepy 'lil Bellingham on that Tuesday night.
“Lorin is huge,” Moore said. “A lot of these people probably saw him last night in Seattle – actually, I know they did – came up here to see him again. The Vancouver scene is probably doing the same thing.”
Moore also said that when Bassnectar plays at the Burningman festival he'll draw “thousands and thousands” to his shows. Perhaps not believing him, or perhaps eager for the spectacle of watching so many scantily clad waifs dancing their asses right off, I went down to see the thing for myself. And there it was. Armed not only with one of the most cleanly and purely loud systems I've ever endured, but also with a button that shot hot geysers of flame over the crowd, the DJ/creature in its booth created insanely beautiful chaos that gleefully pounded the crap out of that sweaty desert until the thin hours of dawn came a 'knockin.
Bassnectar is saturated with sweet sonic goodness. He's a cyber-bunny that has hopped the generational gap between dope-smoking (Grateful) Deadheads and crystal meth munching ravers. He's trying something unique and wild and daring while most of the assholes with musical talent are busy refining their sound to meet the pablum ingested by “American Idol” judges. And, since he's skipping both Seattle and Vancouver for this leg of his tour (yes, the Boogie is THAT powerful) it is quite likely that the freaks will be out in force for a Saturday show. Throw your ass on the Nightlight's floor November 17th and find out for yourself.
Story by Alex McLean, originally published in What's Up! magazine.
The last time Boogie Universal brought Bassnectar to Bellingham was about six months ago. I recall wading through the oddly garnished crowd toward the pulsating Nightlight stage and thinking: “Who the fuck are all these freaks?” and, “What are all these freaks doing packing this place on a Tuesday night?” As a fellow uniquely retarded in many ways – but especially dense when it comes to electronic music – I had no comprehension for the cult-like status embalming some of the stars in the DJ world. Furthermore, since I was just that painfully ignorant, I was very dubious that I might actually enjoy the music. My presumption was a night doomed to nothing more than observing a technical college reject who had a cute passion for tweaking his I-Pod collection.
Several hours later, with a mind pulverized as thoroughly as any jellyfish in a blender, I had different notions about my evening. The hairball on the DJ dais had melted my banana hammock with some severely ass-mangling drums and bass. And, mightily, he did summon forth the sweaty dervish of assembled freaks. So it came to pass that I, a blown turd leftover from the Grunge revolution, had been reborn a convert to these pretentiously named hoods lurking behind their cages of electronic gear. Soon I would be that frenetic fool who epileptically worships a stage presence like Bassnectar for boldly removing his fingers from a nest of smoldering knobs, winking lights, turntables and keyboards to lift one globe of their absurdly big headphones and, just maybe, stare at the crowd long enough to wag an energized fist. Electronic music stirs my midlife mocha, and whip cream on my saggy nipples couldn't get me more frothed up than the guy coming to the Nightlite this month.
Bassnectar is actually Lorin Ashton, a skinny hippie from San Fransisco. While the name “Bassnectar” conjures the image of juice squozen from a game fish (it is fun to irritate his fans with the deliberate mis-pronunciation) the DJ actually has a global following that will claim he is the driving force behind the West-coast breaks scene. Countless DJ reviews in magazines I never knew existed rave shamelessly that his beats are “revolutionary,” “kaleidoscopically brilliant,” “remarkable” and “unclassifiable.” Lacking the vocabulary of the genre myself, and weary of all the tortured sub-divisions within the DJ music culture, the best fall back seems to be Lorin's own description of his beats: “Omni-tempo Maximalism.”
The diversity of Lorin's sound is reflected not just in his prolific discography, produced mostly through San Fransisco's Om Records, but also in the type of folk who call the guy a pal. He's worked with hip hopper KRS One, Micheal Franti of Spearhead, Micheal Kang of the (mostly) bluegrass String Cheese Incident, and the freakishly talented rock guitar virtuoso, Buckethead. A heavy streak of social activism runs through most, if not all, of these collaborations and Lorin is not shy about dubbing tracks from an activist, poet, or songwriter to infuse his delirious rhythms with a less digital message. Looping Saul Williams' anti war speech into a track, or naming his two most recent CDs “Underground Communication” and “Bomb the Blocks,” might give further hints to the thoughts crawling around in Lorin's hairy hippie noggin.
Since I am a member in good standing with the Boogie Universal arts collective, I had a chance to grill Erik Moore, one of the collective's founding members, about the Bassnectar phenomena. What I wanted to know, specifically, was where the fuck all the freaks had come from and, specifically, what the hell they were doing in sleepy 'lil Bellingham on that Tuesday night.
“Lorin is huge,” Moore said. “A lot of these people probably saw him last night in Seattle – actually, I know they did – came up here to see him again. The Vancouver scene is probably doing the same thing.”
Moore also said that when Bassnectar plays at the Burningman festival he'll draw “thousands and thousands” to his shows. Perhaps not believing him, or perhaps eager for the spectacle of watching so many scantily clad waifs dancing their asses right off, I went down to see the thing for myself. And there it was. Armed not only with one of the most cleanly and purely loud systems I've ever endured, but also with a button that shot hot geysers of flame over the crowd, the DJ/creature in its booth created insanely beautiful chaos that gleefully pounded the crap out of that sweaty desert until the thin hours of dawn came a 'knockin.
Bassnectar is saturated with sweet sonic goodness. He's a cyber-bunny that has hopped the generational gap between dope-smoking (Grateful) Deadheads and crystal meth munching ravers. He's trying something unique and wild and daring while most of the assholes with musical talent are busy refining their sound to meet the pablum ingested by “American Idol” judges. And, since he's skipping both Seattle and Vancouver for this leg of his tour (yes, the Boogie is THAT powerful) it is quite likely that the freaks will be out in force for a Saturday show. Throw your ass on the Nightlight's floor November 17th and find out for yourself.
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