Decibel Festival 2011: Opening Party at Re-Bar

Before I even crossed Howell Street to catch the opening party at Re-Bar, I could hear the sounds of a stompin’ good time brewing. Then I took off my headphones and joined a small crowd gathering to watch a full brass band playing their hearts out in the parking lot. A group of costumed dancers and three stilted performers danced and mingled with the crowd as horns blared against a booming drumbeat.

The lady stilt-walker was attractive, scantily clad, and armed with a feather, and God forbid you look away for a few seconds if you don’t want that feather up your nose. The first time she approached and waved it in my face, it was cute enough. I half-smiled and looked up to acknowledge her, but stepped back to regain my personal space. She asked if I was okay and I said yes, and she kept going.

The music/dance/stilt ensemble is called March Fourth Marching Band and they’re from Portland. They were on their way to Bellingham to do another show, and I sure hope they make it. Their impromptu Seattle performance was exhausting for some.

They finished up right around the time 214 took the stage for an hour of clubby electro-house rife with bongos, hand-claps, and synths. His Puerto Rican roots combined with Detroit techno tendencies made for an interesting clash of thumping sounds.

At one point, the 10 o’clock crowd started to resemble a post-midnight crowd, and 214 did his damnedest to keep that energy flowing. Although parts of the set were dark, he maintained a nice stream of upbeat grooves for dancing peppered with chunky breakdowns. The changes weren’t all totally seamless, but the crowd keep moving.

Up next was Seattle’s own Jon McMillion with an armory of vocal samples, which did the most to differenciate his set from the previous format. Still alternating between light and dark, dropping floor-shaking beats, and keeping the crowd on the edge, Jon McMillion showcased as much variety as one could in the span of an hour. The visuals kept cutting out, so the stage looked a little weird at times, but the world kept on spinning.

Although both artists mostly spent their time onstage head-bobbing in front of their Apple laptops, there’s something to be said for viewing the live performance as it unfolds. There’s something far less positive to be said for people who shove their way to the front of the crowd only to stand bent over their smartphones the whole time texting their friends. If you do this, particularly if your friends called you “Brick” or “Tank” as a nickname in high school, go back and repeat your senior year because you clearly haven’t learned anything since then.

Despite the semi-mobile dancefloor tree-trunks, Jon McMillion finished his set to a rather rigorously appreciative crowd. He ended a few minutes early to allow for stage breakdown and set-up for Atom^TM. The low house music give everyone a chance to find their friends and order drinks before the non-stop wall of sound prevented all vocal communication in the venue.

photo by vanwack

Wearing a crisp gray suit and slightly resembling Max Headroom, Atom^TM took the stage with a scattered, bouncing collection of hooks, snaps, and tweaks. The German-born composer, musician, and producer sounded like a cross between Aphex Twin and Kraftwerk. You’d think a hybrid of two of electronic music’s most notable innovators would send the average listener (in this case, me) into lunar orbit, but it was just okay.

Fortunately for him, at least 100 people disagree and Atom^TM played for a packed house. Although I enjoyed relative freedom of movement during the first two sets, there would be nowhere to run for the rest of the night. Atom^TM seems to take himself pretty seriously, which I probably could have guessed seeing he went to the trouble of trademarking his commonly said, four-letter stage name.

Still, I suppose it takes one to know one, as I made an early exit when I could no longer breathe and wanted to get some sleep in preparation for the long weekend ahead of me. When I say early, I mean in club hours, which means little more than pre-2am. Given that I had to walk all the way up Boren Avenue after dancing for a few hours, I am comfortable with my choices.