Yeh Ton’ they’re callin’ it ‘Event City’, so many gigs there you need a freakin’ map just to get around the place
GIGS
Tbh you’d be just as well subscribing to the Shift newsletter this month. Nevertheless
DEC 9: SIA AHMAD & RAYMOND MACDONALD, RHIANNON LOWE @ Shift, Cardiff, 19:00
Australian improv musician and songwriter Sia Ahmad reprises a collaboration with Scottish saxophonist Raymond MacDonald, following initial encounters in 2016. Expect an intimate, free-floating wash of pleasingly amorphous sound, weaving sax, keys, guitars, electronics: a ramble to the sonic periphery. Support from Shift resident Rhiannon Lowe, aka Cekca Het. From a blurb for her 2021 exhibition Trans Panic: ‘Cekca Het shines a harsh light on Rhiannon’s dashed hopes for transition perfection, leaving her to wallow and wail amongst her love of and experiments in noisy music and the ruins of her imagined career in a band’ Truth hurts doesn’t it. This is tonight!
DEC 17: BLACK SHAPE, SOPHROSYNE, FLUX, AMETHYST PHOENIX @ The Moon, Cardiff, 20:00
The indefatigable Rich Collins aka Cosmic Carnage brings more eclectic, back-breaking nonsense to The Moon, this time promising ‘something different’. Troubled young riffmen Black Shape give the people what they want at this time of the year: a covers set. Joining them is Sophrosyne: sheer corruption from the depths of the Avon Terror Corps dungeon, cybermetal warfare of the kind I think we all imagined we’d be listening to in the future. Further support from ‘80’s Queer Disco Spectacular’ Flux and Amethyst Phoenix: ‘Purple Dancing Jon doing their thang’. Unsure what his thang is exactly, I imagine it’s ‘enjoying himself’
DEC 18: ABLE NOISE, TARA CLERKIN TRIO, @ Shift, Cardiff, 19:00
Extended technique? You bet! With drums and baritone guitar duo Able Noise. I hear these two get very nerdy about the spaces they play in. Shift, as you may know, is quite a mental space—a giant underground doomed commercial unit—and so I reckon we’ll be in for something special. Bristol-based scaffolding enthusiasts Tara Clerkin Trio will join too: haunted, ‘pop-logic’ jazz abstractions which shimmer beautifully at the edges. Really excited for this one.
DEC 20: YEAH YOU, ELVIN BRANDHI, SWEFN, BEAUTIFUL PARLOUR @ Shift, Cardiff, 19:00
Last time I saw Father-Daughter duo Yeah You was at Counterflows 2018 in Glasgow. A note on my phone mentions a wicked half hour of ‘Cash Converter electronics’ and heavily dislocated dub, delivered with studied indifference to form and expectation; like feeding off the scraps of a long, weird, knackered table. The next day they made this mental little track in the hotel carpark, can’t find the video of it but you can enjoy this instead. Expect a solo set from Elvin Brandhi too. Support from Cardiff multidisciplinary artist Swefn—' Expect feedback, vibrations and machines left to themselves’—and me, joined by Rosey Brown: cheap plug-ins, unfinished trax, and further ‘research’ into Cardiff Council’s war on anything honest
DEC 23: THE WURZELS @ The Globe, Cardiff, 7:30pm
Genuinely thinking about it; an ungodly piss-up I reckon
A QUICK REVIEW OF ONE WEIRD WELSH THING
There’d be more but really speaking I’m still too busy. Would you like to write some? Email me on throughthenightwales@gmail.com
CANKICKER – ST LP
Jaded Cardiff creeps of the sort you shouldn’t let in the gaff because you know they’ll never leave. Jokes on you though I’m afraid, they’ve always been in here! ‘I can’t see / I can’t think / it fucking stinks’ comes the cry on ‘Disassociate Now’, a howl of indignation delivered with a clarity that feels weirdly at odds with their cantankerous, goth-adjacent dirges. It’s class, and they’re right too: it sucks. Elsewhere in the mix, Matt Short (Disjoy, etc.) seems to have weaponised his chorus pedals in an attempt to strangle his guitar out of existence, on times descending into nonsense, a-tonal rattling of the type I love. Spolttpunk misery with a hint of Crazy Spirit. It’s good shit.
ANY JUNGLE IN GUY? PART TWO!
This is part 2 of our big chat with DJ Guy. It picks up where we left off, which was around the early to mid 90s. I spoke with Guy at The Lansdowne, and he also sent along some extra stuff via email a week later. I’ve edited our chat for brevity and clarity, inserting the extras where appropriate. Halfway through our chat we were joined by Cardiff DJ Pato Canton (PC).
This was a very open discussion in which Guy talked about mental health struggles, some of which are not uncommon in the clubbing and DJing spheres. If you think it’d be helpful, you can find some relevant resources underneath
X: You mentioned Grassroots earlier. Tell us a bit about it, and what it was like working there
G: I was there for a long time. It was a youth project bang in the city centre of Cardiff. They had this Atari ST computer with Cubase, a sound module and FZ1 sampler. You could record a bassline or whatever and the notes would pop up on screen, the kind of thing we take for granted now, but back then I’d never seen anything like it. And so I started volunteering there, about sixteen hours a week, and in return they’d give me an afternoon in the studio.
I remember it being so busy. Anyone could book the studio for two quid an hour, there were rehearsal rooms next door, and then there were the DJ jam sessions. Those were amazing: loads of kids coming in, loads of MCs, big freestyle sessions basically.
At some time the studio manager, a guy called Quinton Quammie, moved to London, and so I took over. I was there for around seven or eight years, I left when my dad got ill with cancer. He passed away a few days into January 2000 and I left Grassroots in April 2000 when my contract finished. That was a really hard time, I was in my late twenties and utterly burnt out. It can be like that when you’re doing music as a job. I would commit myself so much to other people’s ideas and projects, which in some ways was a good experience, but my own productions took a back seat. If you’re doing music all day, it’s the last thing you want to do when you come home. It was an intense time, and it did become a little draining.
Looking back though, I’m glad: I must have been exposed to every type of music, involved in making all sorts of albums, the diversity was huge and I worked with so many incredible Cardiff producers. The other great thing was there’d be times when people didn’t show up for their bookings, and so again I’d have a chance to make tunes against the clock, two hours or so. A lot of the archived, straight-to-tape stuff I’ve released comes from that period.
I think today, modern DAWs mean people can spend months at a time on tracks. I can see the benefit of that, but I’m so much more into raw, focused production. It stops me from overthinking things, and it’s healthy for someone who gets bored quickly and likes to keep things fresh. For example, I remember when there was lots of broken beat coming out of London around 2005, 2006, and you can hear that influence in some of my tracks from that period. I was always soaking up influences from everywhere I could find inspiration.
X: You must have felt strongly about the community element of your work too.
G: Yeah. Community music organisations are absolutely key. Obviously, the way people make music today is completely different. You don’t need to go down the studio anymore, not when you’ve got Garageband on your iPad or Ableton on your laptop. But even back then, it wasn’t just about getting access to the gear, it was about having somewhere to go, to keep you out of trouble. It was a big-time lifesaver. Being in a creative community and having passionate people around you, it just propels you
X: The first time I heard your name was when I lived in Glasgow, I was asked by The Skinny if I wanted to chat with Bake, co-founder of the All Caps label. They’d just released Kowton’s TFB, and he mentioned their next record was an archival release from a Cardiff producer
G: I’ve got so much to thank Bake for. Around that time I was finishing my music degree—my final project was interesting, a self-generating piece using lots of different sensor data inputs—and by that point I’d made loads of music, played some festivals, even did a remix for the Super Furries. But I’d only done one proper release, a white label in around 94 on a friend’s label, called Undisco.
I had this carrier bag of tapes, tracks I’d done over the course of 20 years, and at some point I started putting stuff on Soundcloud. In the end I uploaded something like 150 tracks. I needed to get over this fear of putting my music out there, or worrying what people thought.
Bake just messaged me out of the blue. I hadn’t heard of him but he loved my stuff and wanted to put out an EP of it. It really blew up; I remember Ben UFO playing it in his Essential Mix on Radio 1, Resident Advisor gave it four and a half out of five, I was floored. After that I was approached by a lot of labels. I got asked to play Boiler Room, Dance Tunnel in London, Glasgow, Edinburgh, Cosies and the Island in Bristol. And so I’m really grateful to Bake. He really gave me that chance and I’m not sure anything that’s happened this last ten years would have been possible without him. I’m eternally grateful.
X: It felt like there was a lot of ‘techno archaeology’ back then
G: Yeh, and luckily for me I labelled all my cassettes. I’d write the date and other details, for example if I’d done it with the Quadraverb one weekend I would label which equipment I’d used on the tape. And so I knew those tracks on the All Caps release were from 94 to 96. I still do that today, even with my digital files. The ‘lineage’ of my music and how it’s evolved is really important to me
PC: How have your production methods changed over time?
G: There used to be a lot more hardware, whether that’s drum machines or synths people lent me. I had a 4 track tape recorder, and a mate of mine called Spike used to loan me things like a drum machine, a Roland SH-101, a 202, another friend had a Nord Lead synth which I was able to borrow. These days though it’s nice to make it all in a box, not worrying about cables, patches, plugging things in. There’s so much noise on some of those old recordings; although some people love that I guess!
PC: And how about djing? I’ve always associated you with vinyl
G: I have done lots of DJing with vinyl, but I also use Serato now [DJ software, popular for its Digital Vinyl System]. I used to play at Buffalo Bar every Saturday, long five-hour sets, and back then I’d use Traktor, as the bar didn’t even have a monitor speaker. But these days it’s Serato. I prefer it because it gives you the creative options that come with software, like loops, but it has those qualities of vinyl that I like: it’s tactile, and there’s a looseness to it. I don’t tend to go near the sync button, I actually quite like that feel of two tracks drifting ever so slightly out of time, it has an organic feel and it feels alive to my ears anyway
PC: I’ve only just switched from old CDJs myself. I find you can do so much more.
G: Yeah, a big thing for me is being able to instantly play stuff that friends have sent to me, or stuff I’ve just finished making. In the past you’d have to cut dubplates for that kind of thing. Me and a friend called DJ XS at Grassroots did that a couple of times, made some 10-inches. It’s a massive process
X: Did you have a lathe at Grassroots?
G: No, we used to go to a place called Loud Mastering in Taunton. It was pricey, you’re talking forty quid a side. Back then that was really the only way to play new, cutting-edge stuff in the club. In 1997, 98 we used to go to Easton Community Centre in Bristol a lot, and I remember guys like Roni Size, Krust, Suv and Die would show up with stacks of dubplates. Serato and other software means that today, anyone can drop new stuff into their djing, which is great
XB: What came after the All Caps release? You mentioned the relationship you’ve built up with people in Copenhagen
G: Yeh, there’s a really interesting label called Cejero, they’ve put out all sorts of stuff over the years including my Basf Ferro EP. Again, all tracks from that EP with made 20, 25 years ago. That record’s dedicated to my twin brother Greg Evans, because just before it was released they flew me out to there to DJ, it was the first time I’d ever played overseas. I came back, and a few days later Greg passed away. It was a very sad time for me and it was really nice they were able to make that dedication happen on the silk screen printed sleeve of the record.
More releases followed after that, one on Hypercolour, one on Organic Analogue. Those have been more of a combo of archived stuff and more recent stuff, which is great: it’s important for me that I’m not seen just as this guy who ‘used to make great tunes!’ I’m still very active producing nowadays too. It does mean sometimes I feel pressure, and I’ve had writer’s block this last few months. but right now I’m getting back into making stuff every day. I find myself going back to basics, I’m making lots of raw dance music, I’m not perfectionist but I like to create raw energy in the moment.
I think it takes a lot of courage to release music, I had so little confidence around my first release in 2014, but I've become much stronger now. I think being able to accept that some people will like my music and some people won’t is absolutely fine. Plus, I'm proud of my long history in djing and music, I’ve been doing it since I was 15 which was 35 years ago. I feel like I have nothing to prove to anyone about my genuine love for it, and I'd say I'm quite humble about it all really
XB: You mention coming back to making dance music, I think COVID meant a lot of producers stepped away from club-orientated stuff, right? Because nobody was clubbing
Yeah, and plus COVID was a really hard time all round. I was lucky to have a part-time job, but I went through a split with my ex-partner which gave me major burnout, I had to have 3 months on the sick, my mental health just plummeted and it felt like I’d hit a brick wall. I also had issues with a really shitty neighbour about then, talk about perfect timing, unbelievable really. I think I’ve always had some issues around anxiety and stuff since I was a kid, what with growing up in an abusive household, but I learnt to mask it all, and just pretend everything was ok.
When I had burnout I knew I had to do something about it, and so I started paying for some counselling sessions. I found a great therapist who gave me a reduced price, because even though I work, I get universal credit on my wages, due to super high rent and things. She is a great therapist. I feel stronger now than I have ever felt in my whole life. It’s been completely life-changing and I’d recommend anyone to talk about mental health, either with friends, family, or with a counsellor or therapist
XB: I imagine mental health can be especially tricky to look after when you’re so involved in DJing and club music
My mental health really suffered at times over the years DJing. I went through some very difficult periods, dealing with the grief of losing close friends, and I think losing my dad to cancer really messed me up, I was in quite a bad place around 2000 onwards. I was drinking a lot whilst out DJing, and there was drug use as well.
That’s one thing I’ve never spoken about in interviews is drug use. When I was younger it was so widespread, everyone did it. It had some positive aspects, like bringing people together, unity, crushing hatred, building a strong community, and in that regard I really feel 90’s rave culture was a powerful time in British history. But there were lots and lots of negative aspects too. Unless you witnessed it first-hand, I don’t think many people realise just how prevalent it was. Maybe it's just as widespread nowadays, I'm not really sure.
I often took drugs like ecstasy, acid and other things when I was younger, but I'd never condone it. When people are young they do silly things, and I was quite silly too, but in a weird way I don't regret it as it was just a chapter in my life. I've since lost close friends and even family members to drugs and alcohol, and that really changes your entire view of it all. But again, when people are young, they sometimes do silly things and I did lose my way a bit.
Today however I rarely ever even drink alcohol, plus I don't smoke anything anymore. I’m back to my old youthful self, loving music and getting high off the sounds. That sounds corny, but really, it’s so true. Things like drugs can give you that high, but there is always a downside. It's a very, very dangerous game to play as it can easily get out of hand.
I personally much prefer life being sober; I’m much happier now, much more creative, and I'm not getting any younger so it’s good timing for me to start looking after myself both mentally and physically. I try and cycle most days nowadays, and it’s totally changed my life and really helped me manage my mental health.
It’s been a lot of work, and to be completely honest the past 18 months have probably been my toughest of my entire life, but mentally I feel lI’m in the best place ever, and music is always there to help me. It’s a really great way for me to express myself. It’s both my escape and my sanctuary. I’m so grateful to have music in my life
For anyone interested in counselling and therapy, Guy reccomends the British Association for Counselling and Psychotherapy (BACP),and reiterates that payment often works on a sliding scale with reduced rates for those on low incomes. Other resources in Wales include the C.A.L.L Helpline, and Mind Cymru
SIGN THIS
As you may have heard, Cardiff Council have been secretly in talks to privatise the publicly funded St. David’s Hall to AMG / Live Nation for more than a year. This is disgusting for lots of reasons, not least that St. David’s is a community asset which does lots of work with different groups. I remember being bussed in there myself as a bratty teenager and taught that if you turn up the gain up enough on a pair of headphones, you’ve got yourself a crap microphone. Voila: instant lo-fi, helped turn me into the misunderstood freak I am today.
This petition explains things much better than I could: please sign it and think about coming along to the protest, which is TODAY at City Hall. It is disappointing although hardly surprising to see not just the council but numerous ‘Music City’ heavyweights spinning this as a way of ‘securing the future of the venue’, with talk of provisions to protect the world-class acoustics, the specific types of music it showcases, etc. Get real. Privatisation means privatisation: a complete capitulation of power, for quick money which they’ll only sink into the Cardiff Arena vanity project. The council will have no real power to stop AMG gutting the programme and the venue, the same way they haven’t had power to stop property developers opting out of contributions, repurposing unwanted student flats, taking twelve years to build a bus station or demolishing Guilford Crescent. It’s the same old shit.
Might try and write about this more succinctly next month but for now I’ll just say that last June I saw organist James McVinnie perform Philip Glass’s Mad Rush on the main hall organ. It was a special night, and it upsets me to think that if St. David’s does become an O2 Academy, that organ will probably be the first casualty.
LATELY I HAVE MOSTLY BEEN LISTENING TO:
- Love this debut from Japanese duo Kakuhan, ‘Metal Zone’: not a tribute to history’s worst guitar pedal but a high concept clobbering between worlds, with untethered drum machines raining down blows on the greying ghost of Arthur Russell. Tangible and diffuse all at once, real magic
- I’m afraid I’m getting into “Blue” Gene Tyranny.
Xavier Boucherat is a Cardiff-based musician and writer. You can listen to and read his work here. Through the Night is published monthly on Substack. You can subscribe below.
If you are a recording artist in Wales or from Wales making anything freaky, I’d love to hear your stuff, particularly if you’re from a group that traditionally lacks representation. You can email me at throughthenightwales@gmail.com
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