- The recent revival of trance, breakbeat, hard house and other forms of no-holds-barred euphoria has been surprising, given how these styles were anathema to tastemakers not long ago. I got the sense that the team behind Friday night's party at Oval Space was aware of this, choosing to treat the issue with a wry sense of humour. There was merch with the slogan "Part-Time Raver" from the fantastically-named blog Gabber Eleganza. And Lorenzo Senni's eye-catching logo, which is half standard writing and half scabrous black metal ligature. If harder music is truly back, then anyone groaning at the prospect should at least be happy it's not taking itself too seriously.
After a delay opening the doors, which scrambled the set times for the rest of the night, London promoter and NTS Radio mainstay Body Motion warmed up the floor with menacing builders like Eomac's "Spoock." It was a mixed crowd, full of stocky blokes in Speedcore Worldwide jackets and younger ravers colourful enough to make me—at 26—feel old. I couldn't fault the commitment of the attendees, who, though they may have looked like art-shock dilettantes, gave as good as they got, writhing vigorously to this tough music. Pockets of the audience even broke into jumpstyle every now and again.
By contrast, Lanark Artefax didn't exactly make it easy for people to dance. Working off to the side within a mesh gauze, with most of the stage taken up by an ominous blue screen—called Monolith—that resembled the titular portal from sci-fi show Stargate Atlantis, the young Glaswegian rained hellfire on the audience. He pushed the system to its limits, his clipped snares sounding like streaks of sniper-fire and the bass drops like depth-charge detonations. It chimed well with one banner hanging from the ceiling that proclaimed "Let Them Hate So Long As They Fear." The abstract sonics eventually found consistent form, with song-of-the-year contender "Touch Absence" the closing track. By this point, the Monolith had turned blood-red.
Lorenzo Senni's set was a much lighter affair by comparison. There are few more entertaining performers to watch than the Italian, who vigorously marched, headbanged and wound down low to his own trancey rhythms as they steadily intensified. Were it not for these moves, the jagged, juddering arpeggios might have struggled to match the energy of a happy hardcore mini-mix that filled the 15 minutes between Artefax and himself. But Senni's exuberant self-cheerleading had a rousing effect. In the flesh, he's a sight to behold.
Less enjoyable was Gabber Eleganza's Hakke Show, which closed the night. The tunes were typically full-throttle, but the sight of flag-waving skinheads on stage, even in character, was too close to the bone for me. Given gabber's checkered history of being co-opted by the right, this kind of iconography didn't sit right. I'd suggest they give that one a rethink. On the evidence of Friday night, it wasn't needed to get people back onside with the nosebleed rush of the music. The sight of 600 kids stomping along to Lock 'N Load's brilliantly obnoxious "Blow Ya Mind" proves that, for now, this revival is no joke.