March 24, 2005
Micronaut wasn't a usual D.J. Instead of vinyl, he used audio tapes, the sound from which he fed through a mixing board. Micronaut stood in front of a table that supported a case of sixteen pre-recorded tapes. Each one had a unique mixture of beats and distorted yet intriguing melodies.
Each song used one tape. Even though Micronaut tried to connect the songs with a droning noise as he changed tapes, the cassettes were so varied in character that the songs were only connected superficially. There didn't seem to be a plot or progression to his set.
Still, Micronaut did an enjoyably good job of morphing the tapes with his mixer. At times, he let the tapes run unobstructed, but most of the time he was accentuating certain sounds by twiddling knobs. His most interesting toy was a sensitive pad that distorted sound and its volume depending on the movement of fingers and the intensity of touch.
Micronaut was a searcher. He acted on instinct, creating new sounds out of different progressions and combinations. He employed tight, repetitive beats, but since the melodies were unaccessible, it wasn't dance music. At times the beats dropped out and the music became trippy and ambient. Soothing, like riding a wave.
Helping in this department was Ray Bong, the city's most enthusiastic knob turner. Bong sat to Micronaut's left and added abrasive alien sounds with different pedals.
Micronaut's set was a journey. It always will be. That's the fun of it.