- Hieroglyphic Being (AKA Jamal Moss) is a commanding performer. On November 3rd, the Chicago stalwart set up a stool behind an arsenal of hardware at Brooklyn's Body Actualized Center and proceeded to give orders before triggering a single note. "Get your high asses in here, bitches," he drawled into the microphone. "I'm about to start." Those who had drifted into the backyard to smoke and chat ambled back into the venue, which serves as a yoga studio during the day. The promoters—Self Titled Magazine's Andrew Parks and local DJ Star Eyes—had dressed up the space to look like a rave chill-out room with bean bag chairs and soft lighting. The bar served cute drinks like "Pinky Spritzers" and hot apple cider with whiskey, and there was an unmanned grill outside with a sign advertising roasted squash. The musical talent, however, made no effort to match this soothing decor.
Early in the night, Turrbotax artist Mayster DJ'd across the room, opposite the small stage and tables of gear reserved for the night's headliners: Brooklynite producer Ital, who appeared alongside Hieroglyphic Being as Interplanetary Prophets, and noise-leaning act Unicorn Hard-On, who drove down from Providence for the gig. Ital and Moss commanded their dizzying array of hardware with ease and dexterity. They'd only played live as Interplanetary Prophets once before, at Unsound Festival, but they seemed natural together. Moss was the stable presence, barely moving his hulking frame as he tapped out patterns on the glowing square keys of what looked like a Monome. Ital was his restless counterpart, bouncing on the balls of his feet, shaking his head as he twisted knobs, darting his hands from box to box. As Moss explained to the crowd at the end of the set, their live show was "all inspired on the fly," including the embellished version of "Burning Chrome," the unsettling lead track from Interplanetary Prophets' only record to date.
For her part, Unicorn Hard-On hovered around one end of the equipment to draw whining synth sounds and stomping rhythms out of a few pieces of analog gear. Her set was danceable, but noisy: roughed-up acid basslines blurted out of the speakers like toothpaste shooting out of a tube. Though the artists provided beats throughout the night, the audience seemed enraptured just watching them work their gear. There's an infantile pleasure to watching live sets: each twist of the wrist provides immediate gratification, and the tangle of wires and black boxes induces a sense of awe at the mystery of electronics.