Nothing ever occurs in a vacuum. The context in which something (such as music) happens forms and informs the experience just as much as the content does. In the world of electronic music, techno in particular, the default context is “the club”. The club carries a series of expectations and prejudices that are almost inseparable from the music played there (it will be dark, it will be smoky, there will be drugs, there will be beats in 4/4 time and flashing lights to help you enjoy the drugs). Stage something that runs counter to these expectations and you run the risk of alienating or angering the crowd (I have seen pilled-up clubbers yelling at Lawrence to “turn it the fuck up, man”). It would seem that in the world of electronic music the context has become the content, with the music itself an almost secondary concern. What’s to be done?
One possibility is to explore different contexts. Enter Japan’s Labyrinth festival. Now in its sixth year, the outdoor electronic music festival nestled in the verdant mountain forests of Gunma has consciously attempted to distance (and differentiate) itself from the clubbing scene of Tokyo. Originally trance-oriented, a killer performance from Mathew Jonson at 2005’s event saw the festival swing towards a line-up dominated by minimal/techno artists. This may also speak somewhat of the elements of trance that have recently bled over into techno (Border Community, I’m looking at you), but the change indicates a desire to keep the festival fresh and exciting, and not formulaic.
With the festival spread over two days and nights, sleeping for any extended period of time proved to be a problem. The far away sound of echoing kick drums had something to do with this, but it was primarily because during forty-six hours of non-stop electronic music there was always someone who demanded to be seen. The musical highlights were many and varied, with not a single artist being “off”, and several artists knocking out incredible sets.
London tech-house mainstay Dave Mothersole, hurriedly leaping onto the decks when Mathew Jonson’s live set failed to take flight after several technical problems, served up an entertaining extended set that neatly showcased his familiarity with both the driving sounds of techno and the hip-swinging fun of house.
Pier Bucci played for a full two hours, the diminutive Berlin-based Chilean clearly charming the crowd with his grins and an incredibly deep live set that took full advantage of the range offered by the Funktion-One soundsystem. Bucci’s funky Latin-tinged rhythms effortlessly vibrated their way into everyone’s bones while his melodies soared overhead.
Partygoers were treated to a double dose of Matthew Dear, who played a rocking live set as Audion on Saturday night, and then played a DJ set on Sunday at the end of an eight-hour ambient session, clearly enjoying himself as he built a set that started with three people on the dancefloor and ended with the party back in full swing.
Ryan Elliott, DJ for the Spectral Sound label, played a wonderfully varied set of techno, minimal, and even Italo that all somehow interlocked perfectly. Anyone who can play the classic ‘Sharevari’ and tracks from Donnacha Costello’s Colour Series in the same set and makes it work deserves your attention.
Wunderkind Mathew Jonson’s (postponed) live set was unfortunately plagued with technical problems. After tearing into searing versions of ‘Marionette’ and ‘Decompression’, his drum machine failed, preventing him from programming his beats on the fly (a vital element in Jonson’s sets). Jonson persevered, although he was unable to mix his tracks together, leading to much clearer divisions between each track.
Donnacha Costello, taking the party through the sunrise of Monday morning, produced perhaps the most exciting and vibrant set of the festival. Starting with a number of tracks from his Colour Series, Costello carried the crowd along on a series of old school jacking Chicago beats (“jack to the future”, indeed) before surging into his recent digitally produced material. Visibly excited, Costello jumped up and down behind his machines, smiling, pumping his fist.
With a small tent city springing up to house the 1300 partygoers, the feeling of community was extremely strong at Labyrinth. It was clear that this feeling of community extended to the artists as well, who didn’t just do their sets and then head back to their hotel, but instead became partygoers themselves, watching each other’s sets, dancing in the dance area, walking around, talking, smiling, partying. This led to a series of wonderful moments of interconnection, such as Matthew Jonson and Pier Bucci running around the dance area grinning like madmen, Matthew Dear taking partygoers out to see a spectacular view near the camping site and then waxing lyrical about the “muddies” he wore, or Ryan Elliot wrapping his scarf around the neck of a shirtless and very cold partygoer.
Labyrinth is, as noted, an outdoor music festival. As a consequence the weather can have a say in things, and partygoers need to be prepared and adaptable. But it’s far from your usual bush doof: The Funktion-One sound system provided almost ridiculously crisp sound; far better, in fact, than that heard at many of Tokyo’s clubs. The festival was extremely well catered with a number of food stalls serving a variety of quite hearty meals. Shuttle busses took partygoers to a nearby onsen (hot spring/hot tub) several times a day to scrub up and relax. The décor was subtle, organic, and effective, with the artists playing in a large tepee with dream catchers on both sides and dozens of wax candles in front. And surrounding it all was the breathtakingly lush forest and the misty peaks of mountains, a wonderfully calming sight in the day, and a mysterious presence at night.
In such a context the standard perceptions and expectations of electronic music were unmoored and set adrift. At Labyrinth, techno was no longer primarily about taking pills, picking up, or being part of a scene (although some partygoers undoubtedly brought such expectations and substances with them). Instead, partygoers were free to approach the music however they desired, with the event supporting all of these different approaches. Those who came to socialize, those who came to get away from the city, those who came to take pills, and those who came solely for the music all found something special at Labyrinth.
Photo credit: Grant Mitchell
Special thanks to Russ at Mindgames.