Friday, July 24, 2005
Club Noon, Osaka, Japan

It has been said that the big beat electronica-era has slowly faded away since the turn of the century. Groups like the Chemical Brothers, Fluke, and Orbital have all altered their styles to create new paths for future generation electronica groups to build off, but have been road-blocked by lukewarm responses from fans. The most successful group out of the three aforementioned are the Chemical Brothers, due to their recent success with the testosterone fueled album Push the Button (2005). The main reason the Chemical Brothers have had so much success in the past is because they followed a path originally created in the early 90s by an ingenious group known as Meat Beat Manifesto (MBM).

MBM was one of the leading pioneers of the 90s electronic music revolution. In late July, for the first time in two years, Meat Beat Manifesto (consisting of Jack Dangers, Mark Pistel, Ben Stokes, and Lynn Farmer) took its mind-boggling multi-media presentation overseas to Japan. Since MBM only played two shows, Tokyo and Osaka, it was crucial for the foursome to pull out all the stops. Although Tokyo received an MBM show two years prior, it has been over a decade since Jack Dangers and Co. set foot on Osaka soil. In the time since their last show, MBM has changed members, released a slew of albums (including side projects), and has contributed to blockbuster films like He Got Game (1998) and The Matrix (1999). With MBM’s new show incorporating highly complex production, a venue with proper acoustics to accommodate their technological needs was mandatory. Thus, the intimate Club Noon, near Osaka Station, became the astral-like gateway to the world of Meat Beat Manifesto.

Upon entering Club Noon the piercing vocals from the opening band's lead singer sent shockwaves throughout my body. The shreek was strong enough to shatter a glass house; however, the most intriguing thing about this opening act was that it was a rock band. Last time they played Osaka, MBM did not have an opener. However, this time they had a rock band which was completely dissimilar from their own style of music. This decision seems to give the impression that MBM is not only about presenting one genre of music, but also strives to intertwine as many musical genres as possible. Once the band finished its final screech, a DJ put on a lively set of progressive house while Meat Beat Manifesto’s did their last minute preparations.

Throughout the rock band’s performance MBM’s gear was covered up, but as the DJ’s beats tickled audience member’s eardrums, MBM slowly unmasked the heart of their operations. Set to the backdrop of two movie screens, the left side of the stage was filled with clusters of computers, mixers, amplifiers, tiny cameras, a projector, and enough wiring to wrap around Tokyo Tower. Across from the multi-media frenzy was an electric drum set, however, none of the group's equipment blocked the view of the background movie screens. Half the show's focus was on the visual stimuli, so the screens faced the audience while the computer technicians on the left faced the drummer on the right, and vice versa. As MBM finished off the final touches to their intricate devices the crowd gathered in front of the stage to catch a glimpse of the group that jumpstarted the electronica-era of music.

Although MBM has been deemed one of electronica’s founding groups, the only remaining cast member from that line-up was group co-founder Jack Dangers. Dangers started Meat Beat Manifesto as a side project back in 1987. Soon after releasing MBM’s groundbreaking opus, Storm the Studio (1989), Dangers moved to San Francisco and rearranged MBM’s sound in order to break free of the “industrial band” label. Trading in dark for grimy, MBM officially became known as a “techno act” upon releasing the synth-powered danceable beats of Satyricon (1992). It was the tour for Satyricon that originally sent MBM to Osaka back in 1993.

After Dangers returned to San Francisco he built Tapelab, an advanced recording studio in Marin County that houses the extremely rare EMS Synthi 100. (Supposedly it took eight people to move the 600 lb. piece of furniture through an enlarged window hole.) Made in 1974, the gargantuan piece of equipment is the main ingredient in Dangers’ arsenal of beats; and because only 29 models were ever manufactured, he has an edge in producing original sound combinations.

While Dangers was building Tapelab he met Mark Pistel, the founding member of the political hip-hop industrialist group Consolidated. Pistel gained recognition in the early 90s when he combined hip-hop beats, electronic sounds, and heavy guitars to create a collage of cutting-edge music. Known as a producer; engineer; programmer; and songwriter, Pistel joined forces with Dangers on the influential Disposable Heroes of Hiphoprsy project before becoming a member of MBM. Pistel’s musical expertise proved useful as he contributed some rhythms to the mind-melting seminal classic Subliminal Sandwiches (1996).

By 1998, electronica had seen a huge rise in consumer consumption. Trance DJs Fatboy Slim, Paul Van Dyk, and Paul Oakenfold all received huge amounts of attention due to the success of innovative albums like Fluke’s Risotto (1997) and Orbital’s Insides (1997). Meat Beat Manifesto added to the mix with the hard-hitting punch of Actual Sounds and Voices (1998), home to the smash hit off the Matrix Soundtrack (1999), “Prime Audio Soup.” That same year Dangers also teamed up with visual-media phenom Ben Stokes, a.k.a. D.H.S. (Dimensional Holofonic Sound) to create the music label known as Tino Corp.

Before Tino Corp, Stokes had already earned a reputation as a compelling graphic engineer due to his beautifully crafted productions for such well-known artists as De La Soul, Public Enemy, Josh Wink, and of course, Meat Beat Manifesto. But Tino Corp was something completely different because it was a label dedicated to developing original beats and sounds for other DJs to mix and mesh. Records from the Tino Corp label have been used by a number of turntablists from around the world including DJ Krush (Japan), Cut Chemist and DJ Nu-Mark (Jurassic 5), mesh-up master Z-Trip (who cameos on Meat Beat Manifesto’s sonic sculpture, RUOK?), and DJ Quest.
Coincidentally, Ben Stokes was also the mastermind behind DJ Shadow’s spine-tingling live performances, which included huge screens in the background projecting stunning images synchronized with Shadow’s musical output. Stokes’ was the most meticulous during his final checks while Lynn Farmer appeared relaxed and ready to put on an exciting show for the Osaka crowd.

For many years MBM’s live show was run by a three-piece ensemble, with someone behind the synths and samplers, another person on keyboards, and a live drummer. As a bass-player, Dangers appreciates the sound that comes from live instruments. “For live, I like to see something live, not just a laptop or a keyboard, alongside the music,” confessed Dangers to Stephanie Jorgi of Audiohead.net. Not only does Lynn Farmer’s John Bonham-esqe drum furry appear during live shows, but it is also conducive to the tirade of sonic chaos which exists on Meat Beat Manifesto’s albums. Farmer sat at his drums and gave the signal soon after his final adjustments were complete. All four members appeared perfectly poised and ready for action as the show finally got underway.

Concurrently, the house DJ’s music slowly faded out as the lights began to dim, which provided an eerie calm before the mesmeric storm. The illuminated screens started projecting images of oddly shaped spacecrafts and planet vaporizing robots. With all the flashing lights and machinery the set resembled the Bat Cave fused with Dexter’s Laboratory. Enough to make any world domination seeking mad scientist become saturated in his own drool. As the first vibrations shook the subwoofers, Club Noon immediately became a galactic portal into a parallel universe consisting of old infomercials clips, movie clips, and computer-generated graphic images.

Stokes was in two places at once as he controlled the visuals from his Mac while simultaneously supplying a beat from the small electric drum in front of him. Instead of using a normal drumstick he banged away with a glow stick, which gave off a pleasing visual outside the well-plotted material of the backdrop. Also adding to Stokes’ beat was Lynn Farmer’s relentless pounding from behind his futuristic drum set. Farmer’s sound was the energetic force that attacked the audience during the evenings more beat-driven excursions. Towards the middle of the show both the plush sounds engineered by Dangers and Pistel, and visual barrage of Stokes’ prodigal digital imagery gained momentum. The audience was stuck in an inescapable trance. Some of the more recognizable images to appear throughout the show included Harrison Ford, from Patriot Games, screaming “Get Down!!! Get Down!!!,” on a continuous loop; and Bruce Lee, from Enter the Dragon, making his famous “WAHHH!!!,” before kicking in some mirrors. Clint Eastwood’s Dirty Harry character terrorized the audience with the sound of his deafening Magnum 44 looped and echoed after he recited the enormously intimidating catch phrase: “Do you feel lucky, punk!?!”

Keeping audience members “zombified” (a reference to MBM fans who call themselves “zombies”) Dangers and Pistel punched away at all the gear in front of them, creating and re-mixing sounds that ranged from Storm the Studio (1989) all the way to At the Center (2005). The collage of sliced and diced material gave the audience a chance to cheer for some classics like “Brainwashed This Way” off Satryicon (1992) as well as absorb some new material like “United Nations Etc. Etc.” from At the Center (2005). But the pinnacle of the evening came during the thunderous performance of “Prime Audio Soup” (off Actual Sounds and Voices (1998) and the Matrix Soundtrack (1999)). Stokes’ montage swallowed the audience and took them on a rollercoaster filled with images of panic and fright as screams rang across the dance floor. The sequence of clips included Alex, from A Clockwork Orange, having his eyes pried open and screaming in horror at the sickening images he was being forced to witness. More tension engulfed the crowd as clips of America’s Secretary of Defense, Donald Rumsfeld, in a courtroom speaking before news cameras, were displayed. The audience also received a quick peak of the colossal EMS Synthi 100 immediately followed by a kampy William Shatner commanding the old starship enterprise from the hit show Star Trek. Nothing was too far out of Stokes’ reach as the screen projected images of a real public school hearing test from the mid 70s. Even the video game Pong slowly beeped its way onto the screens that night.

The final sequence of the night brought the audience to a jazz show from July 17th, 1977, starring famed jazz bassist, Charles Mingus (the date was conveniently written under the image). Not too long after Mingus vanished from the screen did the trans-dimensional adventure come to a close. The group took their final bow as Stokes thanked the crowd in a maniacal robotic voice by saying, “Domo Arigato (which means 'thank you very much' in Japanese).” This happened to be “Domo Arigato” from Mr. Roboto. The crowd answered with a roaring applause.

Meat Beat Manifesto gave Osaka an invigorating two-hour performance filled with audio/visual mayhem that altered the brain activity of every member in the audience. In the time since Meat Beat Manifesto last played Osaka, the world of electronica has gone through many facelifts, but Dangers and crew are always one step ahead with their experimental sounds and progressive live performances. Once again Meat Beat Manifesto has taken the challenge of creating new places for electronica to travel, and in the process inspiring young lovers of music to make good use of their musical instruments.

MBM’s most recent album, At the Center (2005), is a wonderful collection of genre immersion which insights creativity upon in-take. This album is proof that electronica is alive and well among its pioneers, as well as has the strong capability of re-emerging as a force throughout its loyal fan base. If a talented duo like the Chemical Brothers found inspiration from Meat Beat Manifesto’s earlier work, then the next generation of electronica is sure to be monumental.