give me one more chance
Thursday, 22 July 2010 17:23
So Andrew and I were fortunate enough to attend The Creators Project, which for those of you who haven't the foggiest; it's primarily an ongoing exhibition challenging the relationship between art and technology. That said, there was obviously a lot of pretty awesome interactives, which when experienced through a pillow of free alcoholic beverages seem the ever more amazing.
There was a whole host of exhibits from some of today's most aspirational contemporary artists. This included Karl Sadler, who achieved a fame rating recently with his xx audio sculpture, back this time though with a constructed forest in a corridor, supported by a soundtrack from Esben & The Witch. Nick Zinner's A.D.A.B.A photography held it's own, especially his snap of hyenas in Ethiopia, and Radical Friend's Digital Flesh both baffled and bemused the clientele. These artists are to name but a few, so if you want to find out more on the event then head on over to the official site to enjoy a huge array of videos/photos etc etc filmed by VICE for your perusal.
The evening 'party' though was a whole different kettle of fish. You had the open bar (you just can't complain about it), the installations still active (as aforementioned, heightened fun through beer goggles), yet the sticky honey like texture of the air from what must be all of East London's fashionistas cramming up against each other in a bid to get noticed, or perhaps notice themselves in the reflection of somebody else, made the atmosphere, dare I say it pretentious and a tad uncomfortable. Yet who cares. It's free. And there were some decent performances that lay ahead.
After a rampage set from Flats, a drooling pastiche from Yuck, and a set from Ronson, one Kele takes to the stage. Eager to see what the former Bloc man has to offer, the ballroom quickly packs out. Having already listened to a handful of tracks from his solo debut The Boxer, I wasn't overly thrilled by his new direction, seeing how Bloc Party's last effort now seems like a trial for Kele's new chosen path. Arriving infront of an electric crowd some 30 minutes late, Kele and Co. head straight into The Boxer's opener, Walk Tall. It's all interesting enough until microphone problems sees the whole band march back offstage to the sound of choral booing. A chap in a pork pie hat beckons to his co-worker that Kele's ego wasn't fulfilled enough, but that seems to me a little pot kettle black. The band pounce back soon enough before a thirsty crowd disperse completely, and begin Walk Tall once more. Clearly stricken by the clock, Kele plays Tenderoni in a bid to salvage lost time. By the time the beat drops we're completely enthralled by it, evidently putting to one side the fact that it sounds like a homage to Wiley, in an effort to show our appreciation for the newly formed solo artist. As a thank you, or an understanding that he's in a room full of Bloc Party fans, Kele performs a montage of Bloc Party's, well, more dancier grooves.
After Kele and his band exit through the backdoor, it all seems too obvious: such is the present admiration for Kele channelled through his success in Bloc Party, that the love shown tonight for his solo effort seems awash with pittance and naivety. Having listened to The Boxer considerably more since the gig, it clearly isn't an awful record, yet you can't help but question your enjoyment. Would you appreciate this album if Kele was an unknown fresh face, or are you living in earnest, in the corner of your insecurities, clutching onto a copy of Silent Alarm, and maybe at a push, A Weekend in the City, hoping for Bloc Party Part Four?
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