The release of producer Beatrice Dillon’s 2020 debut album, Workaround, heralded a unique talent. Over 14 compositions – each clipping along at a frenetic 150bpm – Dillon manipulated acoustic instruments as varied as the kora, tabla, saxophone and cello to sound as slippery and densely metallic as her computer-programmed electronics. An enveloping soundscape escaped its metronomic constrictions thanks to its shaking bass frequencies, snapping rhythm and piercing melody, resulting in computer music with immense feeling.
It’s Bhangra instrumentalist Kuljit Bhamra who plays the tabla on Workaround: by pressing the heel of his hand into the skin of the drum, he creates bass glissandos, bending notes to sound like the manipulations of a digital synth. Tonight’s show at Earth in east London homes in on this electro-acoustic alchemy as the pair perform a selection of works in progress. Bhamra plays cymbals and percussion, including a talking drum, timbale and gourd as well as a new digital instrument he has developed – the Tabla Touch – which converts each strike of a surface that mimics the tabla into a range of programmable sounds. Dillon’s setup, by contrast, is minimal, comprising just a laptop and sequencer.
The duo embark on a wordless odyssey of sonic textures, building from flicks of Bhamra’s bell tree and the synthetic clicks coming from Dillon’s desk to a gradual inclusion of kick drums, which crank up the pace. Once Bhamra switches to his digital tabla, the room transforms; he loops snatches of his lightning-fast polyrhythms and layers on new beats, as if battling against himself. Dillon locks briefly in unison with staccato synth chords before bringing in shards of new melody to jolt us out of the comfort of an established pattern.
The set takes a turn for the esoteric when Bhamra triggers jarring vocal samples with his tabla – but mostly the pair stick to their own musical conversation, smiling conspiratorially as they seamlessly switch from footwork rhythms to Indian classical voicings.
It is a virtuosic performance, both musicians maintaining a hectic pace while they interweave unpredictably. It is impossible to tell how much has been preplanned and how much is improvised, the result is that assured. After only 50 minutes, the music abruptly ends, providing a tantalising introduction to a looser and more explosive chapter of Dillon’s collaborations to come.
