Hong Kong in the 60s + Centre of the Universe at The Others

Hong Kong in the 60s + Centre of the Universe at The Others

14 November, 2008
by: Sween

In the interest of brevity, I'll save the epic tale of the onerous voyage to The Others for another time. Suffice to say, it took many miles walked in driving rain before we discovered the damn place, hidden above a dilapidated snooker hall.

And what a cave of wonders. This place could actually be a garage, albeit a garage made lovely – ageing sofas, a door-cum-bar, and chipboard paintings dangled from the walls. The woozy lights and sounds at chat-inducing levels soothe you; soon you're wanting wine, and being hypnotised by arty blondes talking bollocks.

Hong Kong in the 60s - two guys, one girl, many keyboards. They politely play their French-pop electronic ditties, vanilla-romantic-style. The bip-bip-bipping keys, careful guitar and vocals – somewhat stereotypical – are quaintly played. Not terribly exciting, or terribly terrible. But this protective awkward bullshit incenses me – I cringingly dig nails into my arm at their weak patter. It’s music written because they can; not because they must. Nothing of swagger, frankness. "This is our band, sorry to trouble you". So why should I care? I find myself glued to the David Attenborough DVD projected in the backdrop, as he enthuses over leaves.

Fortunately the following act, Center of the Universe, are nothing short of wondrous. Built around the folky, sinister tenor banjo of Sissyfus (convivial giant Norwegian), with accompaniment by dynamic virtuoso tambourine (I know! I’d never seen that before either) and stygian guitar noise, these songs are in the mode of Six Organs of Admittance with vocals somewhere between James Taylor and Bert Jansch.

There's potent majesty in their dark simplicity - it made me roll in my seat, unable to keep still, raving as they tenderly floated between dawn brightness and mossy midnight doom. And there's the added entertainment value of Sissyfus' successively smaller and more obtuse instruments. Above all, their earthy echoes were appropriate music to resonate in my skull as I pierced the night in my homeward trek…

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Sween