From “War” Debate Naturally Follows: On Shackleton @ Dub War & the Problem with MCs

Upon first hearing Shackleton’s most recent LP Three EPs last October, Yargh immediately g-chatted Cello, writing: “Shackleton is so future”. I couldn’t agree more. His music is propelled by sounds that remind me of the cusps of existence,  resounding with that uncanny something that simultaneously hints of the world’s beginnings and its immanent doom – gorgeous, austere, and hungry. While “dark” is the adjective that seems to be most frequently associated with his work, I tend to think of it a bit differently…not so dark as ravishingly attuned to the bony, fleshless, beauty of that which lies beyond, of the almost but not-quite nothingness.

When it was announced that Shackleton would play at this February’s (2.19.10) Dub War event at Love, it was a given that we’d be in attendance. It was to be our second foray into the dubbier side of the electronic music scene in two weeks time, having paid a visit to the Unsound Festival’s Bass Mutations Bunker night the Saturday prior. These forays are atypical. And by atypical, I pretty much mean that they’ve never happened…not so much for a lack of interest as much as a lack of time and general familiarity with that particular corner of the technoscape, my feet being quite firmly (by virtue of a happy marriage between intention and happenstance) planted elsewhere. That said, I’ve traipsed upon my fair share of music extant under the dubstep umbrella that really “does it” for me. Indeed, it doesn’t only “do it” for me, it really does things to me, satiating my appetite for music that resonates in my bones in a very primordial (for lack of a better term) way. My recognition of this fact became clear not so terribly long ago when my ears found themselves entering a nearly ecstatic state as they delighted in EQD’s (one of Shed’s alter-monikers) Equalized #002 B1 track, first heard at the end of Marcel Dettmann’s Resident Advisor podcast (its final podcast of 2008). That track (which, to my utter dismay, I’ve yet to hear played out at a party) and the podcast, for that matter, are absolute revelations. They don’t get old. They really don’t.

With all of the bittersweet pluck of a grapefruit that is just a few grams of sugar short of being edible, I’m here to report that my little sojourn has bestowed upon me a renewed sense of appreciation for the nourishment of the soil where those aforementioned feet of mine have been so fortunate to have settled. In short, I left Bunker early and Love unsettled and frustrated.

In lieu of conferring a detailed depiction of Bunker’s Bass Mutations night, I’d prefer to keep things simple by briefly summarizing my retrospective reflections on the experience: 1, Pole was great though I wished his set was longer, 2, drum and bass, especially when the DJ is alternating mercilessly between seizure and coma inducing bpms (yes I’m exaggerating, but I’m not lying) is really hard for me to get on board with, and 3, I’m not interested in critiquing the event because it certainly isn’t the event’s fault that most of the music that night just didn’t really work for me. It was clearly working for the better part of the substantial and jubilant crowd, and I think that’s fantastic. Bunker parties are always well executed and a journey in sound, and this event was no exception. And goodness knows that I’m never crying myself to sleep when I make it home at a reasonable hour with enough time to make a sandwich and deeply immerse in slumber well before dawn, so thank you for “releasing” me, dear Bunker.

It was the Shackleton experience that continues to gnaw at my nerves – and it had absolutely nothing to do with his stellar and thoroughly satisfying live set. Nor did it have to do with the crowd so dense that I was literally forced to stand on my tippy-toes and stick my nose as high in the sky as possible in a vain attempt to suck in enough air to avoid what seemed like immanent death by suffocation and stench. It wasn’t even the seemingly large population of teenagers in said crowd that left us joking about our “Grumpy Uncle” mindsets (someone actually called a 30 year old friend of mine who doesn’t look a day over 27 “Sir” – the audacity!)…or the fact that the event partially fell victim to some sloppy (dis)organization that left us waiting outside in New York’s frigid dark depths of winter cold because the club was filled to capacity in spite of our having purchased tickets well in advance. No no. All of this could have been easily forgiven, if….IF….

IF!!! they had spared us the MC.

I’m not even sure of how to describe my feelings about my Dub War night in an even and constructive way without framing it like a letter. To do so is insanely silly of me, particularly in light of the fact that I haven’t so much as told more than 3 of my friends about this blog, so, really, there is no shot in hell that my concerns will ever find their way to the actual “suggestion box” unless I deliver them personally. Ahh well….maybe I will…

An Open Letter To Dub War NYC

Dear Team Dub War NYC,

First and foremost: thank you for bringing Shackleton to New York. I’m not sure if he doesn’t play here more often out of choice or for lack of suitable opportunities, but whatever the case may be – and to state the obvious – your efforts do not go unappreciated. Your events clearly have quite a strong following, and while I am not particularly well-acquainted with the city’s dubstep scene, you are undoubtedly doing what you do in a way that pleases your crowd.

Before commencing with elaborating on my big “however”, I will readily acknowledge that it may be my ignorance that has lead me astray. I do not know if MC’s are par for the dubstep course. If this is, indeed, the case, than I am in a rather lamentable pickle. You see, I quite enjoy the music itself, and this is why I made it out to your event….

…however…

…I quite prefer it unfettered by the vocal “enhancements” of an MC. I’m sure that Juakali is a lovely fellow, I’m sure that he performed because it is what you wanted, and I’m sure that a large ratio of the attendees enjoyed his presence – in fact, I’m sure that many of them count among his fans. So who am I to complain? Well, on that point, I suppose I’m not so sure.

I guess I’m just a fan of Shackleton’s.

Here’s the thing: Shackleton’s music is moody and provocative. It has the power to transport and inspire thought, emotion, and perhaps even intergalactic travels. When I go to listen to an artist of that caliber, I really want to hear the set precisely the way the artist intends it, in exactly the way they choose to execute it. I wanted to go on Shackleton’s journey, but with Juakali’s relentless (albeit lively) and scarcely coherent dance-hall babble, I simply couldn’t. I don’t think that I’m going against any stalwart grains in stating my firm belief that the DJ deserves to be the captain of the ship for the time that he performs. In light of this, even if having an MC is dubstep standard, it would still be quite problematic for that MC to not know when to show respectful restraint, allowing the DJ to take the audience where they see fit. Without Juakali, I believe we would have been sailing through quite different skies in our collective aural experience. What could have been a church with a convincing musical sermon was instead degraded to just another party, and maybe that was intentional. I was definitely in the midst of a crowd neck deep in their desire to party, and that is perfectly understandable. We’ve all shamelessly been key members of “that crowd” before, and I realize that promoters feel pressure to maintain that contingent’s interest and excitement, sometimes at the expense of all else.

It didn’t help that the MC’s tone and energy seemed to exist in such an obvious relation of conflict with the more introspective aspects of Shackleton’s productions. It felt the way I’d imagine hearing a wedding DJ loudly singing YMCA on the microphone over Kol Nidre would: namely, confusing. I can understand how Juakali’s spirited vocals, when paired with music that is well-matched to it, could really empower the overall effect of other DJ sets at your events. But because the instance in question entailed Shackleton playing a live set, the addition of an MC (any MC) seemed painfully superfluous.

I have no idea what Shackleton himself thought about your decisions, and I do realize that he may have wanted things to go just the way they did. But I can’t help but doubt it. In either case, my sincere hope is that in the future, your decisions to employ an MC are based on a consideration of who one would best complement. Not so much for me or the handful of my friends that don’t make it to your events all that often (though, in truth, had things gone differently, you did have the opportunity to earn our more committed participation in the future – not that you have any real need for us) but for your regular audience, who deserves it.

Wishing you all the best in your future endeavors,

S

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