Playlouder - Music is the Network

It’s not everyday a “caravan of raw sound magic”, made up some of the finest purveyors of weird/alt.folk/noise in Finland and America, rolls into town, and an opportunity not to be missed. Stumbling into the ICA after supping one of those fine gin’n’tonics in a can outside Buckingham Palace, I am first treated to 30 minutes of Finnish film artistry. Programmed in the main by Sami Sanpakkila, founder of the respected Fonal Records, the music videos (if that is not too crude a term) are thankfully really good. People with scratched out faces run through the snow; others jump in hyper-real slow motion over puddles. There is no need for small talk.

First up are Finns KEMIALLISET YSTÄVÄT and American AXOLOTL, who take their positions on stage that resembles a music-geek’s version of Scrapheap Challenge with its jumbled piles of esoteric analogue equipment. The cross-continental paring is a theme that runs through the night: the Finnish acts have each chosen a trans-Atlantic buddy to compose new music with in the months leading up to the tour, and had two days to jam in person before it commenced. This particular collaboration is surprisingly funky considering the uncompromising attitudes of its instigators, with one piece coming across like Hot Chip gone wild on reindeer piss.

The affable host Sami Sanpakkila, perhaps best known for his hymnal psychedelic project ES, jumps up next and thanks everyone involved in the tour. He’s playing with Thurston Moore affiliated alt.folkster FURSAXA. They start out quiet, banishing unwanted influences with  chimed bells and gentle ambience. Fursaxa starts singing in her deep otherworldly tones and suddenly it hits me physically- a sensation of welling up, like I’m about to cry but am not sure why. Their set is a revelatory, aching paean to the within and the without that touches parts of me I don’t know exist.

There’s a much needed interval with some more films and then time for Californian duo SKATERS with TOMUNTONTTU (who was also in Kemialliset Ystavat but this time wears a false beard). Crouched on the floor, in darkness but for an old-skool static projector, they produce a whirling and clattering miasma of sound that spins and spits and beckons you to come hither. My mind is unsure about all this, wondering about other things, pissed off about some other guy’s big ego. Then I realise that it’s my ego, or at least conscious mind, that’s the trouble. I put it to one side and am lifted into the swirling vortex, transported by these urban shamans and their spooky tricks.

For a while I don’t want to come back to earth. The almost poppy stylings of ISLAJA, BLEVIN BLECTUM, and SAMARA LUBELSKI sound too straight for my noise-addled ears. But its time to stop stroking my chin and get down, dammit. Directed by Islaja’s quirky vocal stylings, they have a charismatic enough groove, some entertaining synth action, and shockingly even get the crowd dancing a little. Its good, but my mind is still wandering the aether.