Ghislain Poirier’s nut-job Lazer Bass (Future Blap? Turbo Crunk?) set was near maniacal when Daedelus, or should I say "Dr. Jekyll"—what was with that costume?—crept on stage at the Doug Fir. For at least 15 minutes, Daedelus stood to Poirier’s right and enjoyed himself, nodding with the beat and busting an occasional move to punctuate his approval.
Infectious and huge as hell, Poirier’s bass took root behind the sternum and wriggled there like an alien baby intent on making you move. After that lady with red pants and Pocahontas braids—you know the one—broke the ice on the dance floor, the party gears started turning and before long the place was a hive.
Poirier was nudged off and Daedelus—looking like Eustace Tilley with muttonchops—apologized for the opener’s introversion and pedantically informed us that yes, what we had just witnessed really was a bangin’ set, but, since this was his show, he was going to slow things down and chill things out so that he might build it back up to Poirier’s level on his own terms.
Despite the gizmos, Daedelus is essentially a DJ who, instead of triggering the 4/4 via needle to groove (or mouse to monitor), he "plays" an insanely complicated looping device he cleverly refers to as his "light bright." What I imagine to be his subtle refutation of the performance trend his musical coevals like The Field, Girl Talk, and Flying Lotus have adopted—the laptop as an instrument—Daedelus uses the light bright not only because he wants us to appreciate his compositions, but more importantly, to display his virtuosity.
The light bright was eye candy for sure. Its glowing orange LEDs crawled across the board like ancient little Froggers fleeing the mad-dandy’s jabbing fingers. Keeping track of what was going up there was no easy task. Like the Amazon, his set was hot, dense, and heavy. In less than 10 minutes he pummeled us with the hook of Loose Joint’s disco classic "Is It All Over My Face," Daft Punk’s ubiquitous "Harder Better Faster Stronger," and everyone’s favorite jam from '88 "It takes Two" by Rob Base and DJ E-Z Rock. Each sample was recycled, reedited, and re-whatevered into Daedelus’s special mush, part Girl Talk, part Flying Lotus: his very own brand of rave.
Displaying the subtle affectations of a seasoned performance artist, Daedelus made it apparent that far from just "pressing play," he himself is doing all the actual work. With mastery, one can’t help but embellish, and so, like Townshend hurling windmills, Daedelus threw in some super-silly tics and unnecessary tricks that turned what could have been a respectable set sans frills into a dorky-ass spectacle that despite the gimmicks, despite my nitpicking, was pretty damn hard to resist.
