DATE: 11/08/2018
VENUE: Faust
ENTRANCE FEE: ₩ 20 000

I’m always kind of surprised to learn that some of the most renowned DJs and producers in the global techno scene are still holding down day jobs. I wonder how they have the time and energy for it – jetting around the world playing shows on the weekend, and then going back into the office and starting the nine to five grind on Monday. In the case of New York-based deep techno auteur Mike Parker, I think that work-life balance is made a little easier by the fact that he’s an academic, with all the flexible scheduling and copious vacation time that entails. Parker, who has been making techno music for over 20 years and runs his own label, Geophone, is a multi-talented man; he teaches art at the State University of New York, and produces drawings and other works of visual art alongside the hypnotic brand of machine music that has won him fans and renown around the globe. His particular brand of techno falls in the line with the mesmerising, bewitching, chasmically deep sounds championed by producers like Cio D’Or and Donato Dozzy and labels like Semantica and Prologue, the latter of which released Parker’s last album, the excellent Lustrations, a set of three 12 inch records that work as well as a collection of sublime DJ tools as they do a continuous album. Parker is known for the exacting level of attention to detail he brings to his productions; a Mike Parker track is one in which every single minute sound has had its place in the mix meticulously carved out, and where minuscule shifts in sonic texture feel more dramatic and impactful than the biggest, dirtiest EDM drops. With that in mind, I was very happy to get the chance to hear Parker play on the brand-new Faust soundsystem, where that aspect of his music would be able to really come to the fore.

The opening act, regular Faust DJ and stylish mullet rocker Marcus L, played a selection of techno as varied and diverse as the acts typically booked by Faust itself, hitting the crowd with everything from sleek maximalist tech-house to crashing and bumping Stone Age techno. For the most part, though, his tunes sounded to me like variations on mid-2000s minimal techno, only updated for a more modern audience; waves of white noise, punchy kick drums and big drops suitable for the big room. It definitely got a strong reaction out of the crowd, who were whooping and cheering at every dramatic transition. Personally, I felt like the set could have maybe been a bit more coherent or flowed more smoothly – his transitions were all flawless, but I didn’t get a very good sense of narrative or progression from one track to the next, which is half the fun of a good techno set. Nonetheless it was definitely fun to dance to, which at the end of the day is really the point behind, well, dance music.

Monika Faust

Monika dropping some crunchy beats in Tanzbar. 

About ten minutes before Mike Parker was due to start I decided to nip in to Tanzbar to grab a drink, which, depending on your point of view, was either a mistake or a stroke of fortune. I ended up getting completely sucked in by the Tanzbar DJ, UK expat Monika, who was busy laying down an infectiously fun array of glittery nu-disco, rubbery house and acid-inflected funk. What I’d intended to be a quick run to the bar turned into an extended jam session in the tiny dance space between the bar and the couches. I wasn’t alone, either – Monika had amassed quite a crowd around himself, all grinning like lunatics and dancing as wildly as they could in the crowded and confined space.

Dancing to Monika’s music was one of the high points of the night for me, but it did mean that I unfortunately missed a fair chunk of the beginning of Mike Parker’s set. When I finally worked up the willpower to leave Tanzbar and return to Faust itself, stepping through the door was like being abducted by brain-probing aliens from some DMT dimension. All of the signature sonic flourishes from Parker’s productions were on full display in his set: spiraling subterranean bass rhythms, serrated far future bleepery, a raging ocean of liquid noise that obliterated the usual boundaries between percussion and synth or pad and lead. As abstract and hypnotic as the set was, however, it was still intensely, almost overwhelmingly, groovy. A trap that some DJs and producers working on the more psychedelic and moody end of the techno spectrum can fall into is that of losing sight of the fact that at it’s core techno, especially in a club setting, is still fundamentally dance music. Some of Parker’s contemporaries seem to forget that from time to time, crafting tunes and sets that, while sonically rich and musically adventurous, aren’t actually all that fun to move your body to. But as Mike Parker’s set in Faust proved, it’s more than possible to play dark, liquid, mesmerising, trippy techno tunes that still bang like crazy and get people stomping.

Mike Parker Faust 1

Mike Parker surveying the crowd with his trademark unconcerned expression. 

Something else I enjoyed about Parker’s set was the air of absolute serenity the man projects. I don’t think I saw a single expression ever so much as flicker across his face as he gazed over the floor full of frenzied strobe-lit bodies in front of him, his bald head and aquiline features bringing to mind the image of a Roman centurion. But every now and then, when the music reached particular peaks or crescendos (it feels a little inaccurate to call them “drops” – they were far too subtly executed for that) he would stretch his hand out to the audience and make the tiniest indication with his fingers that yes, something exciting was about to happen, looking more like a priest offering his blessing to the congregation than a DJ trying to hype the crowd. It seems a strange thing to say of someone who did so little to interact with the audience and who maintained such an austere and restrained persona behind the decks, but Parker really did feel as if he had a crazy amount of stage presence, if not in the typical sense of the term.

I was kind of disappointed when Parker decided to step down from the decks a little early – he was scheduled to play for 3 hours, but ended his set roughly 20 minutes earlier – but my disappointment was short-lived. The closing act, Nicolas Lian, has apparently been a fixture of the Seoul techno scene since 2012, where he was a resident at legendary now-closed club Quadro, but this was my first time seeing him play. Now, something I’ve noticed with a lot of closing techno acts in Seoul (Xanexx and Oslon spring to mind) is that they often like to close the night out with much faster, more aggressive strains of techno that border on trance at times. Nicolas Lian took this trend in an extreme direction, battering the darkened dancefloor with a series of rapidfire blackened acid tunes that could have worked just as well in a darkpsy set as they did in a techno context. Personally, I loved it – it brought me back to the underground psychedelic trance parties that were my first introduction to the world of raving – but a lot of people on the floor didn’t seem to feel the same way; I saw quite a few of them stop dancing and look confused, and the floor emptied out pretty swiftly. Still though, the small hard core of dancers that remained were clearly super into the sound, and the sudden opening up of the dancefloor (which had felt claustrophobically crowded during the peak of Mike Parker’s set) meant that people could be a little looser and more creative with their dance moves.

It’s a little early to make these kinds of judgements – I reckon I need to wait a little for the afterglow to fade – but as it stands right now, I think Mike Parker’s set at Faust was the best one I’ve heard in 2018 so far (and if you’ve been reading previous entries at all, you’ll know I’ve seen some truly stellar sets this year). The new Faust continues to impress me, and it’s really encouraging that they can book a fairly niche and austere techno act like Parker (whose material, banging as it is, is a far cry from “big room”, mainstream appeal techno) and still have a club packed to the rafters with dancers. The night spoke well to the continued growth and health of the techno scene in Seoul, a scene which Faust seems to be staking a claim as the beating heart of.

DATE: 01/06/2018
VENUE: vurt.
ENTRANCE FEE: ₩ 20 000

Since I moved to Seoul over a year ago, I’ve been fortunate enough to have had the opportunity to see sets and performances from many of my favourite DJs and producers, artists that, when I was still living in distant, isolated South Africa I could only ever have dreamed of seeing. One of the benefits of living in such a massive metropolis with such a thriving electronic music underground is that many, many artists, big or small, pass through the city, and just about every weekend I’m spoiled for choice in terms of which international acts I feel like dancing to. That being said, I’ve never been quite so excited as when I saw that Cio d’Or was scheduled to play at vurt. Nearly a decade ago, when I was young and relatively innocent and I still listened primarily to indie rock and metal music, a friend of mine gave me a copy of Cio d’Ors glorious debut album Die Faser and, well, it sounds hyperbolic but it kind of changed my life. I’d never heard music like it before, and that album kickstarted a deep and abiding passion for techno (and, later, for electronic music in general) that remains with me to this day (and is the reason I started writing this blog in the first place!). I’ve been a massive fan of hers for years, both of her production and of the many quality DJ mixes she’s released online (in my opinion her On Clouds 11 mix is one of the best techno mixes on the entire internet). So to say I was excited about getting the chance to seeing her DJ, especially getting the chance to see her DJ at my favourite club in Seoul, is a bit of an understatement.

Goldbrokat by Cio d’Or, one of the best tracks off of her debut album, Die Faser.

A native of Munich currently residing in Cologne, Cio d’Or has been active as a DJ and producer of techno music since the late ‘90s, when she began Djing at Ultraschall, a club in her Bavarian hometown considered by many to be one of the flagship institutions of the ‘90s German rave scene. Cio later went on to curate her own series of parties, Nachtwind at Wondersclub, before moving to Cologne where she began to focus her energies on producing her own music. She’s a Renaissance woman, with a background in ballet and contemporary dance, who has also dabbled in jazz, classical music, film and theatre. After a string of strong EP releases on labels like Karmarouge and Time To Express, including a few collaborations with the likes of Gabriel Ananda and Donato Dozzy, Cio d’Or released her first full-length album, Die Faser, on the Munich-based deep techno label Prologue. The album was met with critical acclaim, being hailed as an emblematic example of the hypnotic, textured, trippy style of techno referred to as “headfuck techno” or “voodoo techno” in the electronic music press. This was followed in 2015 by a second album, all in all, released on Semantica, which is perhaps Cio d’Or’s most adventurous work, a conceptually dense collection of experimental techno that shows both classical and dub influences. Cio d’Or’s production is intricate and layered, much of it sculpted from found sound collected by her on her travels through Europe and Asia, and her rich musical background is reflected in the meticulous craftsmanship of her structures and arrangements. Her DJ sets, as well, are of an exceptionally high standard, and the mixes she has produced for online platforms like Resident Advisor, mnml ssgs (RIP), and XLR8R have played a crucial role in garnering her the attention of a wider audience. Sadly, Cio d’Or has struggled in the past with bouts of acute fatigue syndrome, which has resulted in many periods of relative silence from the producer, and many cancelled events and tours. Fortunately for us, however, her health and well-being seems to be improving, enough for her to take on a small Asian tour, on which Seoul was the first stop.

As usual Suna did an excellent job of starting off the night. Listen to her podcast for Oslated here.

As usual, I got there early-ish to catch the opening set. Once again, the responsibility for the start of the night lay in the capable hands of Suna, resident DJ and arguably the heart and soul of vurt. As usual, Suna played a great set, though I wasn’t quite as into it as I usually am – I think I was just impatient for Cio to begin. She started off the evening with a murky selection of techno obscura, a fog of echo and reverb through which the bass and kick drum cruised like enemy submarines hunting each other beneath a frozen ocean. As I’ve mentioned before, I’ve enjoyed every set I’ve heard Suna play, and it’s easy to see why she’s so highly regarded within the Korean techno scene. Every set I’ve heard of hers, though, has been an opening set, so I can’t help shake the feeling I haven’t heard her play to her full potential; I’m very interested in hearing her play a prime-time or closing set, and I hope that some day I’ll get the chance to. That being said, she did a fine job of creating an atmosphere and warming up the crowd for Cio d’Or.

Cio d’Or has built quite a reputation for herself thanks to her excellent online mixes and podcasts, such as this mix for Resident Advisor.

If I had to choose a single word to sum up Cio d’Or’s set, it would be: seamless. Her transitions were so subtle and subliminal that it was impossible to tell where one track ended and another began – in fact, it didn’t feel like she was playing tracks at all, but rather like we were dancing to one long singular composition. Sounds – enchanting glimmers of melody, crystalline bursts of synth, breathy whispers and alien frequencies – would fade in and out of the mix, catch one’s attention for a brief moment only to vanish and re-appear, in a different but still recognizable form, what felt like hours later. In some ways, Cio d’Or’s music could easily have passed for an exercise in ambient techno, were it not for the absolutely ferocious drum programming that lay at the foundation of it all: boneshaking kick drums pummelled out remorseless rhythms while above them a hurricane of hi-hats, shakers, crashes and rides wove around one another like starfighters in some far-future dogfight. The net result was a pleasing sense of contrast between the energy and intensity of the percussion and cosmic serenity of the soundscape it was scaffolding. Towards the latter half of her set, Cio d’Or took things in a darker direction; nebula shimmers of synth were replaced by ominous bass drones, warm and dusty harmonies by what sounded like the buzz of swarming insects – but she still steered clear of anything that too closely resembled paint-by-the-numbers “dark techno”, which I appreciated. If anything, the clean, well-defined character of her sound, filled to the brim with crisp sonic intricacies, reminded me more of the kind of organic minimalism associated with artists like Minilogue or Dominik Eulberg than it did the postmillennial industrialism of Ostgut Ton or the trancey voodoo techno of the Italian scene.

Something else that I took notice of during Cio d’Or’s set was her interesting use of tempo and pace. There are several different approaches to tempo when it comes to techno Djing, all equally valid. Some DJs like to start slow and build up the pace, each track marginally faster than the last until eventually by the peak of the set they’re playing their fastest, most banging tracks. Others, especially if they’re playing a headline slot, like to start fast and keep it their, maintaining a pretty quick tempo throughout their set. Cio d’Or took a totally different approach, however, switching between a wide range of tempos throughout her set, so that one moment we were grooving along to a bumping 128 bpm beat, and the next things were slowed right down to a dubby, half-time crawl. It was a bold choice, and one that takes quite a bit of experience and technical skill to pull off properly, but I think Cio d’Or definitely pulled it off; I enjoyed the variety, and the slower, spacier interludes gave me a good opportunity to catch my breath and get my bearings on the floor. I lost track of the time completely during her set – always the hallmark of a good DJ, in my opinion – and so I was surprised when the time came for her to step down and let the closing DJ, Siot, take over. But I wasn’t sure if I was surprised because I thought she was ending too soon, or surprised because I thought she was ending too late. It could have been 4 am, or it could have been 8 am the next day – I really had no idea at the time. Headfuck techno, indeed.

Siot closed the night in fine style. Check out his mix for Oslated here. 

Speaking of Siot, he managed to close out the night in fine style. His was probably one of the most adventurous and out-there sets I have heard at vurt in a while. Like Cio d’Or, he managed to maintain a sense of smooth, flawless continuity between his tracks, so that once again it was very difficult to tell exactly at which point new tracks had appeared and old ones had faded away. Unlike Cio d’Or, however, he leaned less heavily on the 4/4 format, mixing in a lot of broken beats and what sounded like the ghosts of breakbeats past, all shrouded in a dense gauze of reverb – like I was listening to the faint whispers of UK jungle rave echoing from somewhere deep underneath our feet. It was a daring and effective change of pace, and off the back of this performance Siot is definitely a name I’ll be looking out for more keenly in future.

vurtnight with cio d'or

Cio d’Or and the vurt. family pose for a picture in the street outside. 

I’ll admit I had strong expectations going in to this event, and a part of me was a little nervous – it would have been hard for me to come to terms with had Cio d’Or’s set been bad, or boring, or even just mediocre. Luckily, that wasn’t the case, and her DJ set proved to be every just as evocative and moving as her albums and mixes have been for me for all these years. Once again, vurt. has pulled off an incredible evening of techno, but at this point I really am not at all surprised – high quality is what I’ve come to expect from vurt., and so far Suna, Siot and the rest of the vurt. crew have never failed to deliver.

 

Note: I know that this blog is getting a bit repetitive (I keep going to vurt.!) I want to explore more places and write about other venues, I promise – vurt. just keeps booking all my favorite artists so I feel like I can’t not go there! Hopefully the next few reviews will be a little less monotonous.