Moving away from the city, tucked behind abandoned buildings and industrial debris, I arrive in Hackney Wick. Soon a calm character opens the door of a graffiti-heavy commune. It smells funky; it’s quite likely that anyone unfamiliar with the East London art scene would probably be clenching their bags near. We walk up the stairs and enter a vortex of creative charisma.
I set up shop and get in a few test shots before we huddle together in the compact confines of Ben’s convertible studio. First up is musical trio, More Like Trees. These light hearted folk get heavy when they want to be, combining a powerful double bass backbone with a slim skilled box tapper. These guys filled the room with energy and humour – a perfect introduction.
Second up, a man who claimed he’d kill the mood, Dave Dixon. I was ready for it, but instead he took me to a beatnik style bonfire. Introvert and silent, he played delicately but with precision. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was a musical reincarnation of Jack Kerouac. Tapping notes on his fret board, he held his audience still and stern.
That was the end of the first half, and it was now time to climb. I made my way into the dark, step by step, until I reached the rooftop. Where else in the world can you get a good look at 2012’s biggest financial investment? It was chilly, my breath blowing out smoke like a chimney.
Back down early for the second half, I try to get a decent spot. I avidly decide to sit right in the middle so I can get up close and personal. As all the crevices get filled, I realise I’ve positioned myself right in front of an intrusive microphone that would somewhat effortlessly slice the next musician in half. Still, I go with it. People don’t realise the tactile decision making involved in taking pictures.
Liz Green takes the stage. Her white woollen tights strike me; we’ve got a character here. Her voice warms us up with a few humble jokes that tumble out from under her shy demeanour. She’s quite endearing, and whilst her songs are essentially filled with sad stories, her sincerity makes them beautiful.
Now, are you ready for a shock wave? Reeps One does it like no one! Instantly, I recognised his sound from somewhere: this summer. He played on the same stage as Damon Albarn at African Express. At African Express, he came on with a wild wind belting down a mic that bounced huge gigahertz of human-created sound around the arena. But tonight, he was bare. Nothing but his vocal range to assist him.
Soon enough, he was joined by More Like Trees front man, Josh, for an improvisational jam. The crowned hat gets passed and people give with ease whilst chatting and expressing their total appreciation for the magic that hath just bequeath them.
Back at the bus stop, I collect my thoughts. Another eclectic, electric night; well curated and well attended, the energy simply balanced.