The goal is to create live dance technology on stage, explains Lalo Creme of Arkarna, a young, idiosyncratic techno-indie band whose punchy sound has salvoed well beyond its London birthplace. Reasserting the human element in dance music, Arkarna counterpoint their voices and instruments to pre-recorded, take-no-prisoners techno. You need the feedback of an audience, admits Lalo, otherwise you go right up your arse.
James Barnett and Ollie Jacobs, Arkarna s other members, also rave about playing live gigs. It s when music s got the most life, observes James, that little space in time, when the notes are actually coming out as it goes along. It s a really precious moment, you can feel an amazing energy communicating your ideas and and knowing that someone s getting off on that.
But, adds Lalo, steering back towards earth, there s a studio too, where you can get it right. Live, it might be a fantastic moment, but it s probably the wrong note.
A chilled out redhead, James figures techno has its in-built limitations.
We definitely got bored with it, but there s a lot of people who won t, he says. There s always a place for instrumental music, whether it s on computers or just a bit of African drumming or something, but for us, we re really interested in bringing out the sound of techno but putting lyrics on it, because it hits you at a different level than just instrumental music. The melodies conjure up the emotions inside you, but we re putting across a message which is much more intimate and less insular in a way.
People have been making guitars and techno music for quite a long time, suggests Ollie, lead vocalist and quietest of the three. But for some reason I feel that we ve got a bit of a niche, we ve got a certain sound . . . kinda like more refined. It s like . . . . He flounders around trying to put the ineffable into words, then chucklingly shrugs, I like it! It s got a different vibe about it. We can t really put our fingers on what it is, but I m happy that it s there.
It s almost got it s own DNA, Lalo interjects. I can play a bit of guitar to a beat, record that, then Ollie can take it, using his computers and samplers, and turn it into a drum, into an effect, into amazing things! Half the noises in House on Fire are guitars. But you d never bloody know it, and that s beautiful, beautiful. The purists are not gonna be pleased.
Fellow guitarist James reckons they can go even further.
In a couple of years time we re gonna be playing techno-sounds that nobody will recognise as having come from the guitar; that s one area we re really interested in. We re hungry to change the sound of the guitar into something completely new.
I ask James about the band s unusual name.
It can relate to a lot of things; there s a hidden knowledge, which is what arcane means. And the hidden knowledge in music is something you can t really put into words, but it s something that you feel for the music, and you might get to discover part of yourself, or part of your own spirituality from listening to music. You get in tune with emotions by listening to music, and that s kinda like an esoteric process really.
Through meeting people you find out about these things, don t you? comments Lalo. You discover a lot. And we ve spent a lot of time hanging out with other people, and learning about life from people a bit older than us. [Arkarna are in their early twenties.] I learnt a lot from sleeping on people s sofas, in their houses and watching them live. The music is just a running theme throughout all of that, and different people have different opinions on the therapeutic sides of it, and the sheer feelgood side to it. There s a hypnotic side to our band that s gonna come out, grab people by their brains and keep them locked in.
James gets philosophical. Probably hundreds of years ago people were much more in tune with what music actually does for people, and there were definite uses for it, rather than writing meaningless lyrics and selling a hundred thousand records. In that way, music has lost some of its original purpose in life, because it is a therapeutic thing. It s just our society that s moved away from that.
Lalo s ears prick up. Look at our society, eh? Wot a mess! Mentioning the us-and-them situation which the Tory party s criminal justice bill has created, James says that he owes the now endangered London squatter scene a lot of thanks: It s supported me through some hard times in my life. He finds the state s draconian social policies worrying, at times bordering on fascism.
I ll give you fascism! Lalo bursts in. Fascism is a #500 fine if you re caught skateboarding in the City. He looks fondly at his own skateboard, surrealistically out of place in the posh Mayfair Hotel. Now that s a fucked up society. n