Buzzin Electronic Music

Mr Scruff live in Brighton

venue: Concorde2, Brighton
Hosted by: Tru Thoughts/Ninja Tunes
Date: 5th December 2008

Years of digging in unlikely places have made a Mr Scruff live gig an eclectic proposition. A departure from the signature happy-go-lucky floor fillers of years gone by, tonight is a Latin flavoured evening of spice and foreign grooves. The floor is sticky and the Tru Thoughts devotees are out in force to prove they tango and bop as hard as any South American dance hall. As expected, the progression of genres was flawless all at once maraca shaking, boot-ilicous and heart warming.

In a sea of retarded dub bass lines and ego driven electronica dominating Brighton’s sea front club mentality, it’s refreshing to have such a hefty crowd enjoying older tunes.

The songs crackle, feel dilapidated but in no sense archaic. It’s a diverse selection, in awe of both the anonymous players of times gone by, and the producers and selectors persistent in pushing forgotten tunes into the present public’s consciousness.

The crowd wasn’t what was expected. I’d made assumptions about cultured world music snobs and Giles Peterson look-a-likes in full attendance, but instead there was a younger enthusiastic audience representing. jiving on the stage, smiling, ecstatic at the atmosphere they were creating, housed in that cave of a venue.

I’ve noticed we’ve developed this discourse, standing outside clubs talking “sick” tunes and “ridiculous drops”. But tonight’s outside posers are filled with a more sophisticated praise. A language of obscure genres and references to the hidden treasures of dusty record boxes. Rather than jumping up, we’re swaying and enticing our friends with exotic gestures which somehow feel apt. Our shoes are flailing, we’re tripping up in our fluffed attempts at the tango.

But it’s the tough selection tonight, the blend of the rare and unknown with the contemporary dance floor orientated tunes that they’ve influenced that works so well. The night was a celebration of this niche sound, which for these few twilight hours, we’re so happy we’ve found.

And then we walk home , arms entwined, hiding from the harsh coastal winds, humming melodies we’re sure we heard: Peruvian piano loops, brash brass breaks, a tinnitus of castanets.