FWD @ Matter debrief
Posted by Joss Albert on Saturday, November 21, 2009
It is 4.32pm on my laptop's clock and I can see it's very dark outside. There can be no better time to type to a blog.
Yesterday saw a rare occurrence. My partner and I threw caution, and money, to the wind and went out for a spot of clubbing. The night was FWD @ Matter, the reasonably new 'superclub' found around the back of the Millennium Dome or, as the sponsors would have us call it, the 'O2'. Firstly it's not quite a superclub. It only had two rooms and a pretty no-nonsense layout, akin to a very well-scrubbed bear-baiting pit. The sound system was loud and went all the way down with plenty of force and pretty clear, even with earplugs in. I must give a big shout out to my earplugs. They did me proud.
Our main objective was to hunt for some deep dubstep and have a little giggle to some grime on the side. Without a doubt though; flowing, pulsing bass was what we wanted. And we didn't quite get it.
The big pull of the night was Skream & Benga, not the funkiest sons of the scene but purveyors of outrageously big and ballsy tunes that sound like whales hopping to a V-Tech. Before that, we knew there was to be some grime action but I had noted that there should be an escape route via a Jungle set in room two if we weren't feeling it.
Grime, at its best, just forces you to move. It is more physical than hip-hop, more pressured than house. When it's not quite right, it is like an annoying cousin, pestering you and pulling at your ears. When we entered the venue, 50 minutes brisk walk from my home in Greenwich, we were greeted with some dubby, wonky house that set the scene nicely. Me and the missus spent pounds on flavoured vodka and started to get a vibe as the place filled up. From here, Spyro started a set of old school grime that was entertaining enough, but filled me with little joy.
Having witnessed up close a few of the very finest trance DJs carry out their trade, it was both clear and impressive how they built a set and how the crowd really focused through its series of waxes and wanes. I believe that dubstep sets should be crafted the same way - journeys that can lead to either subtle payoffs, or huge pant-ruining drops. Spyro's set, and a good deal of grime sets, don't follow this blueprint. His consisted of short, sharp, shocks; one after the other. Beat after beat were spun, smattered with awkwardly sounding CD backspins and even beats that suddenly locked the crowds imagination were soon ousted. As a result, the crowd loved the brief buzzes and the MC bursts but there was never a point where everyone was on the dancefloor and they were there to stay.
We held tight, enjoying Boy Better Know's energetic and slightly more flowing set, hoping for Skream and Benga to save the day. When they arrived, it was a joy to finally have a solid dubstep beat hit me in the gut. I love the fact that it's very nature makes it impractical for radio and mobile phones and TVs, even if S&B themselves are doing a good job of bringing the scene to a wider audience. Don't be fooled though, dubstep is about huge sound systems and it only truly works with one like Matter's to hand.
It could've been perfect, it was instead kinda cool. Having never seen S&B before, I don't know if they tailored their set to the night or not, but it seemed to me like they were very aware that they were following hours of grime. Too many stops and dodgy rewinds for the first 30-40 minutes made it impossible to really get a dancing rhythm together and, as before, people barged in and out of the floor instead of being glued to there spot, enslaved to the music. It was a shame, as the boys have some huge tunes and some drops that seem to suck all life into them. It was fun to watch the boys tee up a new track, then just let it hit right on the downbeat like an airstrike. The problem was there was not enough groove for me, no aural hypnosis to let the hours slip away. Also, there was no free space to 'express yourself' and the lack of consistency made the crowd a stop-start mess, rather than a communal tide.
We left a little early but contented - there was enough people watching, arm-to-arm boogying and bass rushes for one night. And a friendly kebab shop owner, a dead ringer for Day-Lewis in There Will Be Blood, supplied me with some chips at 4am. Next time though, we'll be looking for a smaller, groovier, affair.
Yesterday saw a rare occurrence. My partner and I threw caution, and money, to the wind and went out for a spot of clubbing. The night was FWD @ Matter, the reasonably new 'superclub' found around the back of the Millennium Dome or, as the sponsors would have us call it, the 'O2'. Firstly it's not quite a superclub. It only had two rooms and a pretty no-nonsense layout, akin to a very well-scrubbed bear-baiting pit. The sound system was loud and went all the way down with plenty of force and pretty clear, even with earplugs in. I must give a big shout out to my earplugs. They did me proud.
Our main objective was to hunt for some deep dubstep and have a little giggle to some grime on the side. Without a doubt though; flowing, pulsing bass was what we wanted. And we didn't quite get it.
The big pull of the night was Skream & Benga, not the funkiest sons of the scene but purveyors of outrageously big and ballsy tunes that sound like whales hopping to a V-Tech. Before that, we knew there was to be some grime action but I had noted that there should be an escape route via a Jungle set in room two if we weren't feeling it.
Grime, at its best, just forces you to move. It is more physical than hip-hop, more pressured than house. When it's not quite right, it is like an annoying cousin, pestering you and pulling at your ears. When we entered the venue, 50 minutes brisk walk from my home in Greenwich, we were greeted with some dubby, wonky house that set the scene nicely. Me and the missus spent pounds on flavoured vodka and started to get a vibe as the place filled up. From here, Spyro started a set of old school grime that was entertaining enough, but filled me with little joy.
Having witnessed up close a few of the very finest trance DJs carry out their trade, it was both clear and impressive how they built a set and how the crowd really focused through its series of waxes and wanes. I believe that dubstep sets should be crafted the same way - journeys that can lead to either subtle payoffs, or huge pant-ruining drops. Spyro's set, and a good deal of grime sets, don't follow this blueprint. His consisted of short, sharp, shocks; one after the other. Beat after beat were spun, smattered with awkwardly sounding CD backspins and even beats that suddenly locked the crowds imagination were soon ousted. As a result, the crowd loved the brief buzzes and the MC bursts but there was never a point where everyone was on the dancefloor and they were there to stay.
We held tight, enjoying Boy Better Know's energetic and slightly more flowing set, hoping for Skream and Benga to save the day. When they arrived, it was a joy to finally have a solid dubstep beat hit me in the gut. I love the fact that it's very nature makes it impractical for radio and mobile phones and TVs, even if S&B themselves are doing a good job of bringing the scene to a wider audience. Don't be fooled though, dubstep is about huge sound systems and it only truly works with one like Matter's to hand.
It could've been perfect, it was instead kinda cool. Having never seen S&B before, I don't know if they tailored their set to the night or not, but it seemed to me like they were very aware that they were following hours of grime. Too many stops and dodgy rewinds for the first 30-40 minutes made it impossible to really get a dancing rhythm together and, as before, people barged in and out of the floor instead of being glued to there spot, enslaved to the music. It was a shame, as the boys have some huge tunes and some drops that seem to suck all life into them. It was fun to watch the boys tee up a new track, then just let it hit right on the downbeat like an airstrike. The problem was there was not enough groove for me, no aural hypnosis to let the hours slip away. Also, there was no free space to 'express yourself' and the lack of consistency made the crowd a stop-start mess, rather than a communal tide.
We left a little early but contented - there was enough people watching, arm-to-arm boogying and bass rushes for one night. And a friendly kebab shop owner, a dead ringer for Day-Lewis in There Will Be Blood, supplied me with some chips at 4am. Next time though, we'll be looking for a smaller, groovier, affair.
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