Agf + Delay

In the setting of the Tuscan town of Cascina, near the famous Uliveto, one of the year's most anticipated electronic music shows takes place. Agf and Vladislav Delay arrive in Italy.

A duo who, over the course of 2005, managed to create music more obsessive and nocturnal than ever, crafting songs with dark, delicate traits, a small world made of beats and mysterious sounds. That masterpiece of twisted, complex pop that is "Explode" is a record that resists any precise definition, a work that slips away and escapes, with that voice with its hushed accent, cavernous tones, repetitive tolling...

Shortly after, we find ourselves facing another equally important work, with Dolls (this time a trio, with the addition of Craig Armstrong), a different way of approaching experimentation with song form, just as compelling and innovative.

Sitting in the hall, I'm overcome by a sense of emptiness. A dimming atmosphere, the lights slightly dimmed, a faint electronic hiss in the background, blinding darkness, two scraps of colour focused on the pair's entrance.

Agf, visibly pregnant (I would later learn she was seven months along), sits on the floor, in front of the console and the two laptops. Vladislav settles behind the drums and puts on his headphones, isolating himself from everything else.

The concert, as a whole, is built around Delay's “impro” approach, constructing drum grooves with various types of sticks and repeatedly playing the skins with his hands. There's no rule to his way of building the rhythmic backbone — if anything, there's no room for stability at all, everything proliferates with chance calling the shots. His jumps from one drum to another, from one cymbal to another, are creativity in its purest form. He manages to compose an alien, disorienting backdrop, entirely at odds with the digital textures, often delicate and far less chaotic.

The electronic backing tracks are pre-recorded, and our own Antye, besides singing with her deep and seductive voice, improvises with her little instruments, various fanciful percussion, and an array of digital gizmos.

The individual tracks are an almost complete rerun of the pieces from "Explode", with the exception of "Break Doors" (the cover of the Doors). "Do Protest" is a convulsion of beats and digital glitter, caught between a voice in an epileptic fit and a drum machine that wheezes with no rule to follow; "All Lies On Us" is a mechanical, harrowing confession, moving between melodic openings and prickly, slippery rhythmic patterns; "Useless" is a triumph of swaying digital embroidery and barely whispered words, with a background noise that forms a rough, jagged surface.

A metallic sloshing echoes through the hall, with insistent, industrial momentum ("Restrict"), a jab at glossy modern hedonism in the cathartic "A Distant View". A sonic apathy hangs in the air with the schizophrenic journey of "Slow Living"; "From Forming On" is a sulphurous cloud that infects our senses with a pleasant, meticulous flavour.

After the first set, they come back on stage smiling and surprised at the huge approval. Indeed, throughout the whole show, in the pauses, they express their disbelief with puzzled looks and a series of silent little smiles.

An extremely intense, fleeting encore. They perform a track from "The Dolls", titled "Choises". Antye holds the microphone under her arm and, with a peculiar instrument (?!) — a set of small, rotating layers of metal — draws out ferrous sounds that are disturbing and pleasing at once, while Delay is lost in his own world of timbral spasms and every kind of madness.

As it draws to a close, the two step to the edge of the stage and take a deep bow amid a deafening roar of applause. Right after, I head over to her, in a frantic record-shopping excitement, clearly thrilled to see such a highly regarded artist live. I buy her last two records (the one with Zavoloka and the audiovisual work with Sue.c) and we start talking. A simple chat with a memorable feel to it, given the warmth with which she describes the pleasure of collaborating with Delay, her "avant" excursions with Lappetites, her love of pop music, and her wish to come back and play in Italy.

I leave the theatre feeling slightly dazed, aware I've just witnessed one of the most memorable shows of the past few months, a strange sense of satisfaction, love and ecstasy.

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