This is [B]Kristian Craig Robinson[/B] [a]Capitol K[/a]in the flesh and he filters the best moments of machine-beat mayhem from the last ten years we're talking [a]LFO[/a], [B]Aphex Twin[/B]
Tonight we’re witness to a startling, explosive, gut-juddering experiment in aural confusion – yet it couldn’t start in a less auspicious way. A nervy thin man – think Where’s Wally? by way of your local crack dealer – stumbles on, plugs a few wires into the back of a pile-up of technology, stabs some buttons, and we’re off.
This is Kristian Craig Robinson – [a]Capitol K[/a]in the flesh – and he filters the best moments of machine-beat mayhem from the last ten years – we’re talking [a]LFO[/a], Aphex Twin, Boards Of Canada – through those cyberpunk boxes and draws out a charged, textured sonic maelstrom that sounds utterly modern, while rocking like a bastard. His set is a seamless, continuous mix of cut-up moments from his ‘Sounds Of The Empire’ album, where careering breaks and urban FX crash against guitar tremors and buzzing static.
The man himself does very little – his addict-desperate smoking of a cigarette is the show-stopping highlight of his pop star shenanigans – and it’s slightly unnerving to find his limited movements producing such a multi-layered techno roar. It’s barely two months on from his debut show, though, and it’s undeniably thrilling to watch a fresh gig novice wrangle with a guitar, murmur into a mic and keep an eye on his levels, all at the same time, and make it look so nonchalant. But then that’s Capitol K all over: out of chaos is born a truly pioneering spirit.