- The comparison may sound odd, but James Ferraro's 2011 output Far Side Virtual stirred as much controversy in experimental circles as Lana Del Rey did in hipster columns. While some were lauding what seemed to be the accidental but sacred epitome of the moment, others were left underwhelmed by what they perceived as yet another generic rip-off. Preceded by a long string of releases, ranging from synthetic atmospherics to random sound DIY, the hypnagogic guru garnered larger recognition with the aforementioned puzzling collection of sleek-sounding vignettes based on computer culture's gimmicks, eventually finding his place on numerous end-of-year lists.
But all that didn't seem to make for a significant selling point to Paris, as only 40 attendees were to be seen on the boat of the Batofar at a recent Ferraro show. Exotic French artist High Wolf opened the evening with his heady blend of classic synth patterns, Frippertronics-minded guitar and tribal drumming loops supported by National Geographic-like visuals. Even if the result felt at times like the kind of background music you could hear in esoteric shops that sell rare incense, it came as a fittingly droning introduction to the headliner.
Ferraro then appeared in a basic outfit, wrapped up in a down jacket to resist the freezing cold outside and behind a keyboard and a couple of pads. (Those who expected some kind of stage persona were left disappointed.) The set started on an unjustifiably long digression around a limping hip-hop loop and a tropical-sounding synth leitmotiv reminiscent of one of Far Side Ritual's themes, that nevertheless implemented a certain malaise within what felt like 20 minutes, until it slowly sank into a full haze of filters and echo. On the screens, frenetically edited images of hummers on highways, American urban night visions and inquisitive panels that displayed things like "DRY ICE ¥2K12".
Things then became slightly busier, or at least enough so to make several members of the crowd indulge in some uncertain dance moves in the front row. Ferraro built an absorbing and dynamic mass of dismantled elements such as broken hip-hop kicks, untimely sub-bass and dizzying keyboard layers. It was then that the thick slice of alien sounds made some kind of sense: all that conceptual distance, that sense of frustration and the oddly intoxicating numbness was the result of a music that didn't offer anything to grab or to enjoy on a basic sonic level. It wasn't really there, but managed to create a strong feeling, between diffuse nostalgia and abstract discomfort.
But that sensation didn't have time to expand in any significant way, as the set abruptly ended after only forty minutes. It left us instead with the sensation of having been treated to a mere sample of Ferraro's work in progress, and passably swindled too. The man himself, briefly met after the gig, admitted he had been a bit pushed by the staff of the venue, but that, anyway "getting people frustrated is part of my stuff I guess..."