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Memory Tapes

@ Privatclub 7.3.2010

 

 

 

The Memory Tapes live show consists of Dayve Hawk singing and playing guitar, Matt Maraldo drumming and a little Mac playing a backtrack. The computer was programmed to automatically transition to the next song, so the guys, once started, immediately banged from one song to the other. Individually, each song was an excellently crafted, balancing retro synth lines and enthusiastic electro-pop. While Hawk opened the set with the slow and groovy beat of "Green Knight," his soft voice hovering over the smooth melody, this was only the preamble of the evening's set. The song soon erupted with enticingly danceable rhythms. The beats and hooks blasted from stage as if in preparation for a long-lasting club night.

 

 While Hawk is the brainchild of the music behind Memory Tapes and performed very well, the true treat of the evening was Maraldo's intense drumming. The man was like the energizer battery. With hardly a pause between each song, he ripped and fired through the intense percussion that laid the music's groundwork. Since the songs were played one after the other, with such urgency, the millisecond pauses between each song made it difficult for the audience to react to the end of each song. Because of this, no one really cheered for the band. This made a very confusing mixture of people dancing to and enjoying the music, but then providing no vocal encouragement to the musicians on stage. This created a strange atmosphere. It was hard to tell if they were avoiding clapping by merging all their songs, or if this was just an odd by-product at this particular show.

 

 

 With the same speed and determination as they performed, after only a half hour, Hawk and Maraldo exited the stage. Was it the shock and dismay at such a short show that bewildered the crowd into merely scattered clapping and a couple hoots? The show lacked the enthusiastic response I was expecting, which I hoped would bring Hawk and Maraldo back on stage. However, the backtrack played on for a couple of moments, accompanied by the sound of the muttering and milling crowd, and was then turned off. No encore. Thirty minutes of music and then over. This was incredibly disappointing, I understand it is the artist's decision to play as they see fit, but thirty minutes was just not enough.

 

 

In any case, this is just proof that the music was good enough to warrant a complaint: the set was far too short to be fully rewarding. The music had, in fact, succeeded in hooking its prey, gave a mighty tug to draw it in, and then suddenly and off-handedly decided it let go...

 


Written and photographed by Brit-Maren Schjeide

 


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