- Kevin Drumm's performance ended as abruptly as a car crash. His onslaught had lasted for an indeterminate length of time—20 minutes? 30 minutes? longer?—then stopped on a dime, immediately giving way to total silence, save the collective gasp of a stunned crowd.
Drumm headlined the most recent edition of Hostile Ambient Takeover at Bay Area 51 in San Francisco. It's old news at this point, but San Francisco ain't what it used to be—the city isn't the buzzing haven for creative types that it was even a few years ago. Still, while the underground isn't thriving, it is persevering. Experimental performance spaces have mostly disappeared from San Francisco's landscape, pushed out by exponential rent increases or noise complaints. But there's still Bay Area 51, a private home and venue with a dance floor in the garage.
Tiki torches were alight on the patio the night Drumm played, with an oil drum sitting ready to host a fire later on. The first live act, Its Own Infinite Flower, took to the stage shortly after I arrived. The alias of Tasho Nicolopulos, a long-time Bay Area resident, Its Own Infinite Flower sounds much as the name might lead you to imagine: an endless unfurling of sound, beginning with discordant, industrial-flavored bursts that gave way to warmer ambient techno.
As soon as Drumm sat down behind his table of gear, quietly manning his laptop and tweaking knobs when necessary, the speakers in the foggy garage erupted, sounding as though they were eating themselves alive. Noise, properly performed live, is an experience like nothing else; it's not enjoyable per se, but it requires total submission, a willingness to give oneself up and let go. Thought becomes impossible, and a meditative state takes hold. After Drumm finished, I felt as though I had just pulled my head out from a dragon's maw and lived to tell the tale.
After a DJ set from Alex Lukas (which included Coil and Einstürzende Neubauten), Identity Theft took over. One of the primary axes of Oakland's Katabatik, a DIY label and techno collective, he is one of the Bay Area's best-kept secrets. All-hardware live electro and techno, inflected with old-school EBM, turned the garage into a sweaty dance floor.
DJs C.L.A.W.S. and Mozhgan took over next, going back-to-back. The pair have a penchant for dark, druggy electro (C.L.A.W.S.) and hazy, psychedelic disco and New Beat (Mozghan). They played off each other expertly, whipping the dance floor into a frenzy. Soon it was four in the morning and the party was still raging, but a friend ducked out and I decided to go with him. San Francisco isn't what it used to be, but as long as we've got Bay Area 51, we're doing all right.
Photo credit: Francis John