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At a time when most musicians striving to reach the outer limits of the musical form seem to have retreated to the comfort of their laptops. Where live performances are akin to watching big kids playing some sonic generating computer game, this event intrigues. Looking beyond the binary coded with promise of human interaction and innovative acoustic development.

Things get underway at embankment. A pleasure cruiser hastily renovated to sonic landing craft transports the audience up the Thames; sounds of a new music future, 20000 leagues under the sea, are pumped on deck, setting an impending mood. Disembarked at Trinity Buoy Wharf the toll of Jem Finers `long player’ rings out from the lighthouse, bringing in the faithful.

Inside the stage is set with an array of hither to unseen musical devises. Polished shield like reflectors, trees of machined steel, chimes set with a more traditional array of gongs and percussion. Walter Fabeck’s performance is based around a free wheeling drone that at first seems to be computer generated. It becomes evident that it emanates from a central shield shaped device that appears to be wound periodically. Sounding like thick resonant feedback stretched over a long Doppler curve. A round it the music develops like a Heath Robinson machine, the player a bearing that links each component clatters through Chinese bells on to the part from a TV detector van. Yet somehow through all the hectic interchange is created music of space and reflection.

Electric bagpipes, possibly not the buskers instrument of choice, but I don’t think Danny Boy is on the set list, the pipes get us underway for Kreepa’s set, with a sound more Far Eastern than Hebridian. Joined and underpinned with long deep tones from a delay-looped trombone, it’s a steady opening. Then on stage a man who seems to be in charge of holding back the full might of the national grid. When the pressure gets too much he is forced to open a dial on apparatus and let off busts of sonic steam. Short floods of white noise establish a more percussive element.

Things evolve further, bagpipes jettisoned for a more traditional free forming saxophone. A solo passage from a man playing what appears to be a white 7ft gates post. It seems like its sound needs to be steered, almost charmed; a giant spooked flute with a light but unique wandering tone. It appears to have keys, a mouthpiece and a small monitor screen which the operative gazes at through out.

The work grows tighter and denser as parts mesh together. Solos peel off as the music finds it’s dark fluid core to the close. Man with music machines in a dissonant and divergent kind of harmony.

With the lighthouse a glow its all a board once more, passing up Thames and the pleasure cruses that thud classic party tunes. With music of the future and music of the past, it’s been a stimulating evening indeed.

Phil Avey