Kosmische @ Upstairs at The Garage, London
25 March 2000
When consumer electronics expanded sufficiently to include musical instruments at relatively affordable prices for the average band to use in the Eighties, the result was synth pop, unfortunately with some quite dire results. Then came the Techno revolution, and sampler-based bedroom cookups, and eventually everyone who once would have formed a garage band was in on the electronica act. Now that the original Mini-Moogs and Stylophones, DX7s and SH-1s have become collectors’ items after years on the second-hand shelves at bargain basement prices, their place in the battery of instrumentation available to those who started out as indie rock bands (in the loosest possible sense, covering a variety of pleasures and sins) soon eclipsed the treasured varnished sheen of a vintage Fender Jaguar or a Rickenbacker semi-acoustic guitar as objects of desire. The sounds if not the hairstyles of Eighties are getting a reappraisal, a resurgence even, far beyond the retro-revival of such stadium nostalgics as ABC or Gary Numan.
Oh have brought along their batch of antique digital and analogue synths and keyboards from Bamberg, Germany, to cram onto the stage at Kosmische for this last date on their brief debut UK tour. In the foreground are the aforementioned Moog and Stylophone manipulations of Phil Stumpf, plus racks and boxes of effects, and the remakable wood-veneer cabinet of Atari-teeshirted Ron Schneider‘s Solina String Synthesizer, which cantankerously drifts from its programmed pitches at will adding a stochastic variance to the sweeping sound – who says machines don’t have souls? As with the best of the Electronic Rockers (Salaryman or To Rococo Rot spring to mind for example and quite different reasons), Oh have a real drummer in the shape of Frank Taschner who keeps the beat fluid among the drum pads and Simmonds kit-parts, and a real electric bass – or two – swapped between various band members when not at the keyboards for the warmly booming low end duties. However, this band are on a shimmering, Funk-based road to groovy parts, and set out to produce a joyful live sound which soon gets the decently-populous audience shuffling in appreciation.
At moments such as the swaying bubbly Dub swoon of “Ballong” or the uptempo stepper “39,6” comparisons with the frenetic glee of Mouse On Mars can be made for reference purpose only, but Oh are generally much more straightforward. Their aim is to make a bright swarm of sound to get the feet moving and please the ears with alll that lovely circuitry, and this they largely do. “Freightliner” is a tight marvel of easy syncopation and tropical-bird synthesis, and when it fades out on an oscillator curlicue the main impression drawn from this quintet is of infectious fun. Like the glitched-up video of Pong playing throughout the set, Oh have got the balance of an easily-digested but sufficiently engrossing sound just about perfectly judged, disturbing the picture enough with channel-tweaking in the case of the game, sprays of multiple synth voices and spacey noises from the keyboards, to make for a distractingly different experience. Thanks to their appreciation of the virtues of longevity over novelty, concentrate not only on the properties of their ensemble’s three-decade’s worth of equipment in and of itself, but how it can be best turned to goodtime advantage.
-Freq1C-
