James Ruskin and Sandwell District in London

  • Published
    Aug 18, 2010
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  • Those arches under London Bridge station have a techno pedigree second to none in London. From SE1 to The Bridge; from Jaks to Cable. There's something unique about the acoustic quality of that London stock brick, and an atmosphere of lost abandon in these old store houses. It's always that thundering emergence from the cracks between doors of basslines, clipped snares and kick drums that excites me in these Victorian spaces. There's something about techno that seeps from the pores of the clubs that host it—a sound that bleeds out into the street, like the vented smoke that fills the approach tunnels. The darkness, vibrations and smell tell you what to expect, and with a label like Blueprint—born out of the very specific (post) post-industrial landscape of Britain—these spaces are perfectly suited. We arrived this night to find James Ruskin in control in Cable's Red Room, playing on a system with snappy mids and crisp, clear highs but what initially felt like a slightly limited bass range. But this was early in the evening, and the system in the Red was still very much in the warm-up phase. The crowd didn't seem to notice, however, and were already rolling on a sea of syncopated snares and liquid basslines. The Red space in Cable is high, compressed and with a stage at one end that, following our overly early assessment of the bass capacity of the system, turned into a low-level sub that gradually grew in power, as Regis and Function took over from Ruskin for a live Sandwell District set. By this stage, waves of almost palpable bass floated over the slightly delirious crowd and Sandwell's trademark laptop re-workings built in intensity. Recognizable uses of tracks from Robert Hood's new album formed industrial soundscapes and apocalyptic warnings into a set that was an exercise in contemporary, taut and fast-paced techno. Builds and expertly timed drops (excusing one slightly ill-timed accidental stoppage) interspersed the lusciously, metallically toned layering of percussion, samples and bass. By 6 AM the last track had played. A bit of silence. And then one final, dark, dubstep number consumed the club in a near deafening totality of sound. Bass hit us as the lights were turned on like an all-enveloping blanket, a physical flow of air that caused dramatic pressure changes in the room and our ears. All that remained were the soundwaves and their echoes. We left, with a ringing in the head we hadn't felt in a while. Too loud? Yes. Dangerously loud? Maybe. Stunningly, excitingly adventurous techno music? For sure.
RA