William Basinski, The Blues Kitchen. 6th November 2022

I’ve not seen William Basinski live before and it’s my first time in The Blues Kitchen too. First impressions are it’s very nice. Too nice? I’m not sure, but it’s certainly fancier than your average venue. That’s because it’s not really a straight up venue, more of a swanky bar. I believe the food is very good, which I guess you’d expect given the name. So is the sound though, which it’s going to need to be judging by the amount of chatter in the room for the support. Okay, it’s a DJ slot, but still, this is atmospheric stuff, the sort of sounds that you’d think would demand attention from people likely to buy a ticket to listen to William Basinski. While BFTT warms us up… we need it, it’s bloody freezing out. Half the room does the standing still, eyes locked forward in deep appreciation, while the half at the back catch up on the weekend. With the smoke, the roving orange spots dancing off a mirrorball above my head, it’s all a little disorientating. It sounds like Autechre melted with GY!BE, with some Orb dashed in to smooth things out. Truth be told though, there’s tons of stuff in here and it’d be pointless trying to nail it down. It’s good though and all sets the tone rather well. This is not a spit and sawdust gig, with guitars and the formulaic format of a band. This is more of an experience. Basinski’s music is transporting ambient experimentation. As he takes the stage, in sequins and shades, he’s disarmingly funny. I mean flamboyantly hysterical, with tales of stolen cabs and getting lost in “Manchester, the music capital of the world!”. The chatter stops instantly, a quiet of weighty expectation taking over. Basinski you see is a bit of magician. Stood behind a table with two reel-to-reel machines, he loops, spices and warps tape with the sort of aural dexterity that warms the soul. Gigs of this nature often have a sort of austere feel to them, but with the analogue hiss, the clicks and glitches. It’s impossible not to find yourself washed with a cinematic romance. It’s not all luscious though, there’s some venom packed in there too. Basinski jerking and contorting to the chaos he’s controlling. It’s muted performance art, but art nonetheless. I’ve no idea what he’s doing up there, fiddling with dials on a controller, but I love what he’s conjuring. It’s music to get lost in. Truly lost. Time, money, social fabric all disintegrates. It demands you engage with it. Now granted, this isn’t going to be everyone’s cup of tea. There’s no lyrics, although there’s plenty of operatic vocal loops. It’s not verse chorus verse. It’s not pop music. If you want to be challenged a little though and swept up in something magical as reward, William has you covered. It’s amazing to watch him play as melodies emerge out of the ether. He has the entire room transfixed. The sound in this room is fantastic too, the separation is gorgeous, as sounds buried in the background echo, counter to the sweeping drones up front. I know all this might sound a bit pretentious, but honestly, it’s fucking magnificent. These aren’t songs as such, as much as movements. After the first that runs some 45 minutes (I think, like I said time doesn’t matter), he leaves us with a reworked extended version of ‘Melancholia II’ and exits. It’s a bold move that truthfully doesn’t work. Without him as the focus, the room loses it and the chatter is back. It’s REALLY FUCKING ANNOYING’. If you want to talk, fucking leave. After it’s played through, William returns but only for thank yous and goodbyes. Truthfully I was hoping for more and perhaps that’s his thinking, leaving us wanting it, but regardless it’s still wonderful. It feels special. He doesn’t play in the UK much so it’s a real treat to catch him and The Blues Kitchen is pretty cool too.