Nicolas jaar @ subclub, glasgow

Lara Johnson-Wheeler

When I tell you I went to a DJ set on a grim drizzly November Sunday at Sub Club, you’d be forgiven for assuming I’m a slave to the rave. But I’m here to dispel those assumptions and swat away your preconceptions. No less of a man than Nicolas Jaar could have convinced me to get the last coach to Glasgow and the first one back on Monday morning to make it to my 9am tutorial. Had it been a disappointment, there would have been bad scenes. But by hell was it worth it, topping most sets I’ve ever seen.

Sunday night clubbing is a totally new scene. It’s like I really knew that each and every soul there was there because they care. Jaar drew a dedicated crowd. Unlike a regular night at Glasgow’s most famous micro-music venue when you might expect to see undirected, unenthused chins gurning their tits off just for the sake of it, the Sunday night Subbers were unified in their mission. Each and every attendee was present for Jaar’s unique mixes and they were willing to combat Sunday blues just for him.

Having been off the radar for about a year, to see Jaar live is a rare and valuable opportunity. I’m not exaggerating when I call him visionary. I mean this in every sense of the word; his latest project, Pomegranates is the creation of a soundtrack to Sergei Parajanov's 1969 avant-garde film The Colour of Pomegranates. Personally, it’s pretty far down on my list, but the collage of warped ambient sounds, mutilated orchestral pieces punctuated by the occasional metallic scrape eventually moves into Jaar’s signature leaping melodies.  

He sounds like one could only sound in our digital era. The set he played at SubClub embodies this categorically. The infamous wall of speakers throbbed with inimitable dub and his audience vibrated in sync with the expertly constructed rhythms he kept on pulling out of the bag. I swear, people practically pulsated in a sort of sublime swarm. And don’t even get me started on when we heard the rise and fall of that chanting voice Jaar uses, so perfectly reminiscent of his one and only solo album, Space Is Only Noise. Resounding applause and en masse appreciation ended the evening; people went their separate ways at 3am on that drizzly Sunday night riding the inimitable wave of ecstasy provided by a solid dose of Jaar’s music.