Jackmaster, the notoriously unpredictable Scottish set-ledge, had a monthly residency at Ibiza institution DC10 for Monday´s Circo Loco. I spent the summer season on the White Isle and aside from killin’ myself at a video of him off duty challenging other ravers on Amnesia’s podium, pushing two aside for a showdown during Ricardo Villalobos’ MDMA, I only got a snatch of his closing DC10 date. Gutter. What I did see was a b2b with Ben UFO which was a pisher peak of pleasure. After a closing marathon over the weekend, they carted in exactly what I needed: an eclectic set of pure energy that felt like a natural serotonin creator, a revitaliser from the grave which felt like it was hanging off my back since I woke up. Tidy.
From Ibiza to Barcelona, a hibernation choice which can feel like the difference between a cabbage and a lettuce: they taste different but on the surface they can look very similar. Pair of creepy green rave globes. Barca is well nourished on techno nutrition and you’ll smell that one minute into a rally through RA events with familiar names popping up like old pals. One name was Jackmaster. Aw YAS!! Ibiza blues in Barca? Nah. They can beat it, straight back in and on it.
Razzmatazz loft is a smashin’ venue. No fancy shit, no shiny shit; just bare faced grey walls boxing you in to pay attention to whoever is the commander. On the night it was a good crowd, not full up by any means, but after DC10 smashings, that was a well welcomed site. The thing with Razz on a Friday night in this city, is that it’s just a club which is an institution in its own right, and a lot of people are going to be there because it’s simply the weekend no matter what and who is on. I kinda got that vibe that it might not have been filled with pure die-hard Jackmaster fans but they were up for it, so who cares eh.
He crunched through a set that joined the dots between some of the best that take shelter under the electronic umbrella. A pure downpour of the kind of ammo that begged for relentless raving on the euphoric level, from kicking it off in the old school house sound to disco and techno like an audible trail through music evolution. He’s known for being unpredictable in his methods, a crowd challenging characteristic of his craft I tasted at DC10, and got an absorbent tongue lick of at Razz and going on the observation that the crowd didn’t wane at the seams, his style was lapped up by everyone else.
A bolstered increase in crowd reaction came with a mix of Floorplan’s Never Grow Old, a track he doesn’t seem tired of blasting as equally as crowds don’t seem tired of hearing. Aretha Franklin’s sampled vocals never seem to fail at taking the room’s energy and spirit to a supercharged level where spontaneous human combustion could be a consequence. He played it deep and dark which suited the venue down to the bone, but his injection of funkiness throughout made it impossible not to do what clubs have been built for – dancing and emotionally connecting with the clubbers giving it some around you.
I came off the back of the belting brute of a set he delivered for Circo Loco’s closing, stayed because he chucked in the energy that didn’t loosen its grip and left knowing ill be hawk stalking his gig calendar.
Photos : Razzmatazz