I could tell that it was going to be a good show when I saw the abundant notices posted outside of Club Nokia warning patrons of the flashing strobes inside. The candy kids were out in full force, a sea of neon and plaid with the more than occasional feather accent. The pit and surrounding areas were absolutely packed, an excited electricity running through the audience. When the lights went down and the canned music faded, there was a sudden surge forward while everyone craned their necks to get a better look. A projector cast swirling images of stars behind the stage full of drums, synthesizers, and guitars. Two rectangular glass pieces hung vertically on either side of the stage, and throughout the performance solitary, unusual images were cast on their panes. Below the projector’s screen there was a light fixture that flashed every color imaginable in repeating patterns of X’s. All of these visual effects plus a smoke machine enveloped the audience in the electically electric realm of Ratatat, everyone visually and aurally stimulated to the outer limits of our sensory organs’ known universe by the end of the first song.

 

Ratatat is like the futuristic sonic fantasy that classical composers dreamed of: they are constantly producing endless and almost unrecognizeable variations of the same elements. Those elements include (but are certainly not limited to) all manners of infectious, insatiable drum beats, ethereal keyboard melodies, synthetic strings and harpsiphord, and gnarly guitar shreds. That may sound like a limited palette to paint with, but the ways in which these colors are textured and tinkered with is vast: Ratatat shapes and reshapes a dazzling array of distinct yet distinctly interconnected songs as infiintely fractured as a kaliedescope. Yet, the band consists of only two members, both doing quadruple duty playing guitar and all other instruments and machines. At the end of ‘Wildcat’, they each played tom drums at the front of the stage, the audience clapping along with the lights flashing from within the drums. By the time they played ‘Falcon Jab’, the club’s floor was packed with a solitary mass of undulating bodies.

The beautiful side effect of instrumental music is that our brain is unfettered by processing a singer’s voice and words. Our ears can then focus their undivided attention on more minute details of each piece, allowing the music to really seep into our bones. But Ratatat doesn’t just want to seep into your bones, they want to shake them and rattle them around. With no words there are no language barriers, which may be one indication as to the world-wide popularity that Ratatat has enjoyed. Additionally, instrumental music is completely open to interpretation, usually drawing a more diverse fan base of people who love to compare their interpretations with others’. Ratatat seemed to understand and respect their audeince: neither of the two members Taj and Gaz were very vocal during the performance. When they did speak, it was usually a brief but cheerfully delivered “Thanks!”

 

Combining such powerful soundscapes with a variety of visual stiumli was absolutely mesmerizing. The projector showed everything from Koyaanisqatsi-style scenery to tessellated images of birds to crackling sparks for ‘Party With Children’. The two glass pieces on either side of the stage were truly ingenious: when they weren’t showing the iconic, imposing bust of Beethoven or the head of the Venus de Milo, they each depicted a cellist and a violinst in full 17th century garb plus hip 21st century shades (pictured above). These virtual band mates added a little bit more of a human presence amidst all of the programmed sounds, and because they were actually playing in time to the music, they really brought attention to the gorgeous string parts of the songs. There were lots of wide, unblinking eyes and upturned mouths in the audience, no one immune to the warmth emanating from the stage. Ratatat has been putting out albums since 2004,  but I’m always amazed at how few self-professed electro-heads really know their music. Ratatat is one of those bands that you’ve either unfamiliar with, or you love: there’s just no in between.

Ratatat‘s latest album LP4 was released this past June, and it is now available on iTunes. If you missed them last night, catch them this Friday at The Fox Theater in Pomona, California. For tickets and more information on Ratatat‘s world tour please visit their website.