Chaos in Tejas Live (Saturday): Andy Stott
Move your feet and lose your seat, crust clowns
By Luke Winkie, 2:27PM, Sun. Jun. 2, 2013
Of all the sounds at Chaos in Tejas – all the different sonic symbols that informed our expectation: fiery, tumbling screams; molten guitars; scratchy, caveman-punk drum blasts – I can almost guarantee that Andy Stott’s were the only ones to open a show with a dense, low, quicksilver bass rumble.
The UK dub producer has an intense passion for sound. His breakout album, last November’s Luxury Problems, has its feet planted firmly on the lofty intersection of noise, ambient, and minimal techno. Balding, bleary-eyed, and dressed in a collared shirt behind a glowing Apple laptop, the Manchester-bred producer’s a normal guy who spends a lot of time thinking about dance music.
A Seventh Street bar like Holy Mountain converts into a techno club with relative ease, and Stott didn’t miss a beat, impressive for someone undoubtedly more familiar with crispy European DJ booths than true blue Texas humidity.
The man proved powerful, too, moving his music in unconscious ways. The sounds he utilizes – phased vocal samples, washing-machine rhythm, oceanic bass – all register unrecognizable, perhaps purely from abstract thought. His songs are inorganic, made of math, science, and philosophy, trusting that the universal language will compel you to move.
We danced all night.
Sometimes you need a little joy in a weekend filled with hardcore drama. Stott certainly doesn’t take himself seriously. He’s proof that even when you remove all the corollaries and examples, high art can still be relatable if put aside a solid beat.