Text by Dom Stevenson
Best known to many through their work as DJ Maicol, Erotechre marks a different outlet for the Glaswegian artist. Following a formative spell in Vietnam, it gradually evolved into something far less fixed, laying the foundations for a radically different approach to live performance.
From its earliest conception, Erotechre has resisted settling into a fixed form. What began as an ambition to realise the project as a band has gradually evolved into a live machine-based performance where improvisation and instinct are not simply creative tools but the conditions from which the music emerges.
At the heart of that evolution is a broad constellation of influences gathered across different places and experiences. Encounters with improvised music, ritual performance, club culture and experimental electronics have all quietly informed Erotechre’s musical language.
For the latest CLOTmix, we caught up with the artist behind Erotechre ahead of their show at The Waiting Room in London this Saturday to discuss improvisation, cyber aesthetics, the creative potential of risk and what can happen when performance is allowed to exceed intention.
There’s a noticeable shift in the way you talk about Erotechre’s evolution. At some point it seems to become less about writing music and more about creating the conditions for it to emerge. What prompted that change, and how did it reshape the way you think about the relationship between performer, audience and space?
I have never been good at writing music in a studio without a live performance in mind; I never know when to start and end things without an audience in front of me.
For a long time I wanted my sets to be sleek, glossy, polished; I wanted a sheen over the performance. As I’ve grown to be more transparent, I’ve gradually moved away from that mentality. It’s dishonest to who I am, something far messier.
I was living in Vietnam earlier this year, and I did a few improv gigs with a band there. What I noticed during those concerts was that my body, whilst playing an instrument, acted as an interface, transducing my tensions into sound that inevitably changed the full experience of everyone involved. Approaching your body as an encampment of possibilities is what enables unpredictable events to happen. Live music should be an enacted process, unfolding and participatory. Music only exists when it is being listened to.
Your performances seem to embrace the possibility that neither you nor the audience knows exactly where things are heading. In an era where so much electronic music is built around precision and repeatability, what is it about not knowing that feels creatively necessary to you? Have there been moments where surrendering control has taken a performance somewhere you couldn’t have anticipated?
I come from a DJing background, so generally when it comes to performance I feel most alive when I’m not entirely sure of the destination. I know I always play better when I’m at the edge.
Sometimes live electronic music can be too preprepared. A lack of dynamism can make a room feel stale and static. Overconfidence can also dismantle the potential energy of a set.
I think in order to truly feel the energy of a room you have to take risks. That could mean purposely under-preparing, or deciding in a sudden second to shift things drastically. These moments can really challenge you by stripping away any supposed knowledge you might have built up, eroding any forethought, and leaving you bare, testing your true situational responsiveness. It’s under pressure that your natural, instinctive energy gets exposed; it feels raw.
One idea that runs through your work is that music can communicate through sensation before meaning. Rather than asking listeners to interpret a narrative, you’re interested in transmitting tensions, physical states and shifting intensities. It feels almost Cronenbergian. Where does that way of thinking come from, and how has it shaped the way you approach composition and performance?
With music, I prefer to follow a logic of sensation rather than one of meaning. I think it’s more honest. I hope my music can reach the body before becoming an object of interpretation.
Whilst studying performance under the guidance of Silvio Lang in Argentina, I was introduced to the work of Gilbert Simondon. His writings on individuation speak of forms not as fixed objects but as ongoing processes that emerge from fields of tension and affect one another in excess. My approach is inspired by this: the transferences of energy between myself, the instruments, the room and the audience. I consider myself making shifts in a charged field.
In performance I want to be able to communicate my somatic intensities, my internal conflicts, my desires – healthy or not. That’s where the erotic comes in.
This mix offers another window into the world surrounding Erotechre. What drew you towards these particular selections, and how do they connect with what people can expect from your live set at The Waiting Room on Saturday?
I recorded the mix on a long bus ride in London, using my laptop, DJ software, and headphones, and playing with the touchpad to adjust the EQ and mixer settings. With this setup, I couldn’t cue/preview the tracks, so I’m hearing the music at the same time as you hear it as a listener. It was a very random collection of stuff I picked from my library, scanning playlists and remembering songs as I went along.
I didn’t plan to correlate it with the music I make, though I think you can find some comparison in the excessive baroque moments and intimate sounds. Expectations always end in disappointment.
Tracklist:
Vangelis & Irene Papas – Song of Songs
Gein’s Nait – Austral
Elodie Lauten – Revelation
Avel Mismo – don’t give up (feat. Cliché Toupee)
Ghédalia Tazartès – Un amour si grand qu’il nie son objet
Einstürzende Neubauten – Armenia
Tolerance – Pulse Static (Tranqillia)
Esplendor Geométrico – Tiempo libre
Geins’t Naït & L. Petitgand – Bodische Little Alone
Bruce Gilbert – Angel Food
Monte Cazazza – Climax
Ramuntcho Matta – Oil And Canvas
The Stupid Set – Basset
Die Dominas – Die Wespendomina
Anatolian Weapons – An Afterthought
Günter Schickert – Untitled (Toncollage Zu Dem Film)
Roy Montgomery – Hollyford Valley Day 1
DAF – Ich Und Die Wirklichkeit
Website: https://www.instagram.com/erotechre/
(Media courtesy of the artist)
