Institute of Contemporary Arts

Matthew Dear's Big Hands

Date: 12 June 2008

Matthew Dear. Photo: Gabriel Green

Dave Knapik  

Matthew Dear first leapt into my consciousness in 2003 with the release of his self-titled album as False. As a voracious consumer of any released on Richie Hawtin and John Acquaviva's Plus 8 label , I naturally grabbed this the moment it was released. Although I'd only been listening to dance music for a few years, I caught up fast and if it came from Detroit, it found a home on my turntable. At the time, I was militant about my electronic music and made no room for vocals in it. Singing reminded me too much of rock music and I was in the middle of a new love affair with the beat. Sadly this meant I was missing out on arguably the most fascinating side of Matthew Dear's musical personality.

Jump ahead to 2007 and I can't stop listening to Dear's Asa Breed. With funky basslines bouncing against softly understated rhythms, and the ever-deepening voice of Matthew Dear resonating over the mix, this was dance music for the midnight drive. His voice blends so organically with its electronic surroundings, that if it weren't for its overwhelmingly soulful humanity, you could easily mistake it for another computer-generated creation.

When I heard that he was bringing his unique blend of synthesizer and song to the ICA with a band in tow, I wasn't sure what to expect. How could you improve something that already worked so well on record? Giving the man behind the many monikers (from False to Jabberjaw to Audion) the benefit of the doubt, I cycled down The Mall on Thursday evening to see Matthew Dear's Big Hands start the weekend early by rockin' the theatre.

The three-piece band took the stage in front of what appeared to be a full house screaming and offering thunderous applause. Dear took his place standing in front of his laptop and microphone as a drummer and bassist rounded out the line-up. Minimal sounds played with a minimal band seemed like a sensible approach as the first song started with a simple beat and bassline from Dear's laptop. Within moments, his Big Hands had joined in and Dear was belting out his throaty baritone like a The Idiot-era Iggy Pop. The sound was so lush that I couldn't believe a subtle laptop loop set it all in motion, from minimal to maximal in seconds.

Electronic music performed live can often be the subject of much derision, with punters moaning about geeks hunched over their MacBook Pros who don't look like they're doing anything. I've never cared really because I go to a gig to hear more than I do to see. If someone's seated behind a laptop for an hour or so, that's fine by me, I'll just close my eyes and let the music carry me away. That's not to say that I don't dig a captivating stage presence, it's just that I don't require it to have a good time. Matthew Dear, however, was such a natural standing behind the mic, that had I never heard of him and you tried to tell me that his background was as a DJ and producer, I'd have thought you were joking. Almost every song ended with an Elvisesque, "Thank you very much," as Dear exuded the essence of the rock star in all of it's glory and none of it's conceit.

From start to finish Matthew Dear's Big Hands had the entire room moving to communal favourites from Asa Breed and Leave Luck To Heaven. Between songs I overheard a girl next to me shout to her friend, "He's so much better than I thought he would be!" Of course he is! I, too, thought I was just going to hear a talented techno producer live. None of us expected a rock star who could easily have commanded an audience many times the size at an outdoor summer festival. As fun as it would be to see him get thousands upon thousands grooving, I'm selfishly satisfied that we had him all to ourselves for one night within the cozy confines of the ICA theatre.

Matthew Dear. Photo: Gabriel Green