I woke up to the darkness of early morning, mildly regretting my decision to attend Sun Rising, an Audible Edge Festival performance at the WA Museum. It was approaching 6:30am, and there was free coffee available. I diligently placed my to-go cup under the percolator doohickey. The coffee was burnt; this coupled with the early hour and sterility of the museum made me feel like I was at an airport.
I passed through the hallway and sat on a faraway chair. Due to my poor seating selection, I had to tilt my head between the patrons in front of me to get a good view of each musician – on the drums and knobs, Audible Edge Seed Fund artist Jane Stark (make a tax-deductible donation to the fund here), and Josiah Padmanabham on the electric piano. Jane coaxed a keurig whir from the knobs as Josiah stood enamoured by the sun. It looked like a scene from Vanilla Sky.
Sounds glimmered quietly in a gentle rhythm with the rising sun, and every so often reached a discordant plateau. It felt like a morning aerobics class. I awaited instruction to jog in place or clench my hips. The knobs were now diligently turned to manipulate the keurig noise into a howl of wind. Josiah now focused his attention to the piano, thunderous, commanding and somber, slowly morphing into a trademark jazzy cacophony the Tone List label is known for. Josiah trilled over the keys with urgency as Jane, having now migrated to the drums, jogged over every cymbal and tom.
The sounds morphed and layered until you couldn’t tell which instrument was producing what sound. The melody was Frère Jacques-esque. Pat pat pat, Jane was now dancing her drum brushes on the roof of the piano. Then came a drumstick, puncturing the sweet murmur of the brushes with a Tap tap tap. Jane took her post back at the drums. Wait a second, Josiah’s left the piano and is now twiddling with the knobs. I anticipated a switch. Take the piano Jane, take it. While you’re at it, switch outfits. Sun flooded the room as the duo reached another crescendo. Both found themselves settled by the knobs, twisting and turning them to create pure noise. It was even more beautiful than if they had switched…
It’s happening, oh my god. She’s on the piano. My fist pumped in my mind’s eye. Beautiful organ-like music coloured the air, like an underwater church service. I noticed a water bottle sitting on the piano. We all know what’s gonna happen next. Jane picked it up and used it as a piano playing tool. The release was incredible.
Transportive, breathtaking synths rose and fell, encircling the crowd. Little beeps speckled the air, a little something for the millennials in the crowd. Remember desktop computers? Remember sticky keys? Josiah sat serenely at the piano, the water bottle doing all the work. He drank from it and put it on the floor, what a rock star. He cocked his head toward the city scape as his fingers danced across the keys, shaping a precious melody.
I get improv music now, unless you’ve seen me at a previous Tone List event, in which case, I’ve understood it the whole time and am falsifying this revelation for dramatic effect. There was a gas leak noise and a Slap slap slap. I looked around at my fellow patrons of the arts. One hooked their index finger over their chin pensively, and at least a third were asleep. A plane flew by the window. Two planes! Wow, the Audible Edge budget is stellar this year. Thank you City of Perth.
Jane’s drumming brimmed with life, and swelling synths brought the performance to a close, and opened our mornings. I feel like I just laid on a psychoanalyst’s couch for an hour and a half. My mind is squeaky clean. This day cannot go any way but well. As daylight further enveloped the room, an audience member outstretched their arms, greeting the sun.