Paul Oakenfold

Buffalo Billiards, March 14

Without Paul Oakenfold, few would take instrument-free electronics seriously. He’s the great survivor, the last man standing in the ruins of Madchester, the remixer in Goa when his peers couldn’t find it on a map. Before the iconic producer’s headlining set, DJ Bl3nd epitomized the post-Girl Talk norm: press a button, spray the crowd with Champagne, and leave the machines to their labors. There’s no stage-diving for the 49-year-old Oakenfold. Headphones around his neck, he constructed all the trademarks of his stadium-pleasing sound. He’s an architect amongst day laborers, designing the grand vision of trance beats with flashes and snatches of truly banging house. Oakenfold’s no showman, either. He’s a craftsman, an artisan, a sonic tinkerer. The odd nod to crowd participation seemed forced, with some half-raised hands and “grandpa dancing at a wedding” shuffles. Expecting him to dance to his own beats would be like asking a carpenter to jig while turning a table leg. When he concentrated on the samplers, his genius shone. We may not have landed on Planet Perfecto, but it was close enough to see with the naked eye.

This article appears in March 22 • 2013.

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The Chronicle's first Culture Desk editor, Richard has reported on Austin's growing film production and appreciation scene for over a decade. A graduate of the universities of York, Stirling, and UT-Austin, a Rotten Tomatoes certified critic, and eight-time Best of Austin winner, he's currently at work on two books and a play.