ATP: Easy to Swallow
Thursday 2nd June 2005
SE One, London Bridge, London

Open gallery

Carl Michael Von Hausswolff. He certainly looks like his name. Craggy, pensive, resplendent in standard-issue white suit. Looking strained as he forces fluctuating sinewaves to cause sonic wobble. Bird chirps form the metronome and we're left mesmerised and under for the 30 minute duration. Stunning.

The comfort zone that Mr. Hausswolff leaves us in is quickly shattered by Yasunao Tone and Hecker. Modem tone scrape / Reaction to metals / laptop boredom. Their performance was all this and more. Convinced the whole thing was just playback, with virtually little or no interaction from either.

Slightly disappointed that Mark Stewart didn't do as many Pop Group songs as i'd have liked. His set list seemed to explore the more darker end of his output. Unfamiliar and alien to me, anyway. But after a slightly wobbly start, his set quickly settled into a followable groove. The tight backing of the old Sugarhill group provided a decent, if not exactly thrilling, musical backdrop.

A quick shift in audience (average age drops by 10 years) for Aphex Twin's set. Largely forgettable nonsense: tired acid, disjointed hip-hop and some slightly dodgy breakbeat. Only when he replayed moments off the brilliant Analord series did we all liven up. But those were too few and far between.

Whitehouse. Eeeek! A recent Wire article stated that the more they try to 'shock', the funnier they become. And I'm inclined to agree. The black-svelted duo of Bennett and Best position their laptops at extreme ends of the stage, allowing centre space for vocal turns. The high-velocity, freefall scream that constitutes their 'power electronics' certainly knocks the wind out of you. Best's lyrical, high-pitched sneer that occasionally ascends into incoherent gutteral shrieks is perverse as it is arresting.

But some members of the crowd take their cabaret posturing a tad too literally. And beercans and bottles start slowly making their way towards the stage via the air. After a few land too close for comfort, they both decide to jack it in, plug themselves out and leave. British Murder Boys do their best to follow. But even they know that the fiercest statement of the night has already been made.