RJD2

Author: Toren Hardee

Philadelphia-based DJ and producer Ramble John Krohn, better known by his stage name RJD2, played a sold-out show in the newly-renovated McCullough Social Space on Friday to positive student reception. Before RJD2 took the stage, crowds filtered in and were warmed up by an energetic opening set by Bearplane, the alias for the rave-esque electronica of Philippe Bronchtein '10 (who is also musically active on campus in an indie folk project under the moniker Hip Hatchet). While the mood of Bearplane's set was more reminiscent of Gregg "Girl Talk" Gillis's fondly-remembered show in McCullough just over a year ago, it became clear as soon as RJD2 started performing that he would offer something different - an analog alternative of sorts to the digitally-based DJ-ing that constitutes the vast majority of what we are exposed to in 2009.

There was no laptop onstage during RJD2's set. The closest thing was his AKAI MPC (Music Production Center) series sampler, which he used to playfully reconstruct his songs from their various elements in real time. However, the majority of his time was spent expertly manning the three turntables set up alongside the MPC-box; adjusting levels, displaying his scratching abilities and scurrying back and forth between the tables and a large stack of vinyl from which his songs cull their countless samples.

His focus in moving constantly from one task to another is quite amazing to watch, and it is no doubt all part of what RJD2 has created as his live performance, for the audience's sake. A DJ of his experience is surely aware of the potential for boredom of a DJ-only concert, because when artists achieve popularity as widespread as RJD2 or Girl Talk have, concert attendees arrive expecting something more than just a dance party. They have come to see a concert. The artists are expected to display some degree of performance, some show of skill or a fresh recombination of their music's elements.

For Girl Talk, this means the raucous and unique live experience that has become as famous a part of his reputation as his music itself. Without the aid of a computer, RJD2 provides an interesting contrast to Girl Talk's genre-transcending rave style. RJ's show involves more live recreation and experimentation with his songs, and less undressing/crowd-surfing/drinking beer/hooking up with the audience members he has let on stage. His performance is certainly engrossing to watch for any fan of music, beat-driven or otherwise.

By no means, though, was RJD2's show an overly cerebral experience. Shortly into the show, RJ had the moderately-sized crowd moving fervently to his gritty drumbeats and basslines, hands in the air, cheers circulating upon hearing the opening strains of favorites like "The Horror" and "Ghostwriter" from his much-loved 2002 solo debut, "Deadringer." His sophomore album, "Since We Last Spoke," was equally well represented, with highlights like "Exotic Talk" and "Iced Lighting" slyly interwoven and recombined with other tracks. Left out of the picture - to the relief of many - was his most recent release, 2007's "The Third Hand," for which RJD2 switched labels and ditched hip-hop based material for middle-of-the-road, rock-influenced songs penned and sung by RJ himself. His original label, New York-based Definitive Jux, is known for its gritty production and left-field rappers like Aesop Rock and Cannibal Ox, and RJD2 fit snugly into their roster. On the other hand, his new label - XL Recordings - is a highly successful independent label with a more diverse roster of artists (including M.I.A., Radiohead, Vampire Weekend, Beck and The White Stripes) and a much less specific sonic identity. The lukewarm reception of "The Third Hand" by critics and fans showed that this decision to switch directions was perhaps a bit misinformed.

But RJD2 quelled the fears of fans of his first two releases by keeping the fun alive in an entertaining and polished - if on the short side - performance. From the incongruous gunfights and horror-film scenes projected on the screen behind him to the non-sequiturs uttered between songs ("Who here is into government bailouts?"), there was mindless fun for those who wanted it. And for those who wanted more, there was the chance to observe a master of his craft at work.