Approach with no caution at all, despite everything. Just make sure you have your copies of [B]Sleepless In Seattle[/B] and [B]'Bat Out Of Hell'[/B] close at hand.
Faced with art – or the rather more ponderous ‘ART’ – it’s occasionally hard not to feel like a small child being dragged around a museum. Forget culture – you want ice cream.
Undoubtedly, Faultline is a beguiling proposition, the crucible where the talented David Kosten splices his ungodly love of sonic filth with the purity of classical phrasing and jazz arrangements. It’s just sometimes, amid all the careful
and quiet seriousness, you feel the word ‘installation’ creeping into your head, suddenly developing a fear that any minute now, you will be caught up in a piece of video art about urban relationship trauma and forced to move to Clerkenwell.
‘Mute’ is excellent, profoundly unsettling, a desolate jazz trumpet slowly swallowed up by shifting tectonic bass – yet the air of black polo neck is unshakeable. It takes the splendidly reliable Third Eye Foundation to loosen things up a bit, introduce high culture to high-as-a-kite culture, and warm up the beats until they’re ricocheting off the ceiling.
Approach with no caution at all, despite everything. Just make sure you have your copies of Sleepless In Seattle and ‘Bat Out Of Hell’ close at hand.