- There are 754 miles of ocean and tarmac separating Berlin-based record label Leisure System and Glasgow's newly-reopened Art School, but their coming together felt more like a reunion than a first encounter. Leisure System's Scottish debut brought with it a lineup that, intentionally or not, tapped into the heart of the Art School's ethos as an anything-goes alternative to Glasgow's more rigid house and techno status quo, which has hardened a bit more during the Scott Street venue's three-year absence.
Dopplereffekt took to the Assembly Hall stage at around 11 PM, standing bolt upright in front of their synths, wearing white Venetian masks and plain black jumpsuits, with only a ponytail distinguishing To Nhan from Gerald Donald (or Heinrich Mueller, if you prefer). Positioned beneath a video display of petri dishes, Hadron Collider diagrams, space satellites and computer junk, they were selling the disengaged scientist shtick pretty hard. They failed miserably, though, because the music was so much fun: like much of their best work, the duo's improvised loops were unfamiliar but immediate, and their spartan delivery was perfectly suited for the Assembly Hall's high ceilings and cavernous space.
Jon Hopkins's live show bore a different kind of theatricality. Like Dopplereffekt, he put the video display to good use (a weeping woman's face in a space helmet during "Breathe This Air" was particularly impressive), but most of the drama was in the music itself. Culled almost entirely from his award-winning Immunity album, Hopkins's material was powerful and emotive yet still hedonistic.
Once Hopkins had finished his excellent hour-long show, I went downstairs to see Visionist at the Vic Bar, a smaller room near the Art School entrance. South Londoner Louis Carnell's medley of paranoid grime, US hip-hop, dubstep and R&B edits underpinned what this Leisure System party embodied: it was lively, unstuffy and felt like a trip back in time. This won't go down as Visionist's most memorable gig, though: big pockets of the dance floor remained untrodden, leaving him with too much work to really create the atmosphere his efforts deserved.
Returning to the Assembly Hall was a jolt to the system. N>E>D, one of Leisure System's two residents, took the night by the collar and really went for it, playing lots of techno records that didn't really sound like techno records. After a while, I wondered why I could hear the distinctive chimes of Clark's "Riff Through The Fog," until I realised Clark had already begun his live show and I hadn't noticed the transition (because, I was later told, there wasn't one).
It was hard to keep track of things after that. Everything was played at such a furious pace, from Clark's Mr Oizo-esque snippets of "Truncation Horn" to "Snot" by LFO, that trying to get a grip on the remainder of the night seemed futile. For a show full of music for the "heads," Leisure System's greatest achievement was the accessible way in which it presented its artists—nothing about the evening aspired for intelligence or grandness, and therefore never felt contrived. It felt like meeting up with an old friend—one whose presence we'll hopefully not be without for too long.