- Though Morphosis's latest spat of gigs in the States has taken him to Philadelphia, New York City (twice), Detroit and Cleveland, only in the last two were folks lucky enough to see him paired with Container. Boasting two of the more adventurous and genuinely unorthodox producers working right now, the bill at Cleveland's Touch Supperclub reflected the dialog that has opened up between European techno and the American noise/drone underground in recent years. This dialog seems particularly vibrant in Cleveland, a city which claims as its own Spectrum Spools label head and Emeralds co-founder John Elliott, fellow Emerald and Kranky recording artist Steve Hauschildt, synth explorer Sam Goldberg and Prostitutes, AKA James Donadio. The show's promoter, Bent Crayon (John Cellura), also warrants mentioning; his record store of the same name—arguably one of the country's best brick and mortars for cutting-edge electronic music—is where noisemakers, both local and touring, go to soak up the latest in techno and house.
Container plays extremely brief sets. No more than 30 minutes. It's a reflection of his roots in noise, which has long championed short blasts of sound in the live setting. But it is how his recent Cleveland set unfolded that's most striking, especially compared to the last time I saw him. Back then, in the summer of 2011, he pressed his foot onto the audience's jugular from beginning to end. It was techno, but noise in its crunchy dynamics and devotion to relentless sonic wallop. This time around he displayed a sense of pacing. Lurching over a table strewn with hardware and wires, the producer built his gnarled, analog grooves in both volume and intensity (along the way unveiling three new tracks). Everything was raw and fuzzy, though it wasn't until the final five minutes that he really punished the crowd. They, in turn, go apeshit, which is quite an experience to be a part of. Touch Supperclub's primary space is a cavern-like basement that's dark, muggy and exceedingly intimate.
With the decks at the opposite end of the room, Morphosis kicked in immediately after Container. No break in sound. As a DJ with just a crate of records (the 808 takes the night off), his approach to mixing is best encapsulated with the phrase "fuck it." He isn't at all tidy or concerned with smooth transitions and matching beats; tracks quite often batter one another. If he doesn't like the direction he's headed in, he abruptly changes course. Having said all that, he isn't careless or flip, not in the least. From what I gather, he's truly dedicated to a philosophy of freewheeling, fly-by-the-seat of-your-pants improvisation (after all, he rocked a retro Herbie Hancock/Headerhunters tee).
As for selection, Morphosis didn't enslave himself to genre. Both Italian disco and techno were foundations, though he rarely slipped into straight 4/4 propulsion. Rather, he constructs perpetually shifting rhythms with heavy input from progressive jazz, Kosmische Musik, vintage global psychedelia and industrial. During the home stretch, with house lights slowly coming on line, Morphosis dropped Throbbing Gristle's "What A Day!" on to Container's thumping "Dissolve." The resulting sound, thick and pulverizing, eventually melted into seething static drone thanks to some ingenious tweaking of knobs. Oh so slowly he peeled back this harsh wash of noise to reveal Can's atmospheric "Vitamin C," with Damo Suzuki's strange cries out front: "You're losing, you're losing, you're losing, you're losing... your Vitamin C!"