Two of the heaviest hitters in the promotion game delivered a dynamic lineup of today’s most innovative producers and electronic artists, with performances by Proxy, the great Mr. James Murphy and Swedish House Mafia’s Sebastian Ingrosso.

If you did a double-take reading over that lineup, you aren’t alone. HARD x Mouth Taped Shut had their shit covered in terms of style and appeal, offering a little something for everyone’s taste in bass. From Proxy’s glitch beats that echo the bygone warehouses of USSR, to James Murphy’s mission of turning every venue he graces to an NYC disco hall, right on down to today’s heaviest Euro anthems from Sebastian Ingrosso, the night was a generous buffet of the who’s who in the modern dance scene. And the kicker? It was all free.

Yup. Not a dime to get inside. In a promotion technique that could only be pulled off in the age of social media, HARD x Mouth Taped Shut announced the lineup a mere 48 hours before showtime. Utilizing their Twitter and Facebook channels, the two promoters opened up their RSVP list on a first come, first served basis. Now I am not a gung- ho capitalist, but I couldn’t help but ask myself: “How the hell are they able to do this for free?” I never got an answer, but the moment Proxy took the stage to drop the velvet hammer of Mother Russia, I immediately stopped caring.

The first thing you’ll notice when Proxy takes the stage is that he looks exactly like your best friend’s little brother. It is remarkable to consider the scope of his career after seeing him in the flesh, looking like he may ask for help with some Algebra II before he takes the stage. Although he is a twenty-something with the face of a teenager, Proxy is as hardened a veteran of the electronic scene as any of his senior techno colleagues. He has crafted his own electro genius niche with Mako Records, and his track selection is an eclectic mix of almost dogmatic beats.

If Putin, Stalin and Gorbachev had started a Moog band in the basement of Kremlin, it would come out sounding exactly like Proxy. You can’t help but become enraptured with his craft, and his Russian upbringing plays an influential role in the aesthetic makeup of his music.

The show took a sharp left with James Murphy, the venerable frontman of one of the 2000s’ most influential bands, LCD Soundsystem. The band itself is no longer in performing, but James has moved on to the eighth incarnation of his unrivalled career. He is now concentrating on producing records, DJing shows, and is slated to work with the Arcade Fire on their next album.

Mr. Murphy has his hands in a little bit of everything, including an upcoming Sundance documentary chronicling LCD’s swan song at Madison Square that is aptly titled Shut Up and Play the Hits. But you won’t find any LCD songs in Murphy’s set, not even a little bit. It almost seems like James is trying to distance his persona from the styles of LCD Soundsystem. It was not a time to revel in his past success, it was time to disco.

Mr. Murphy and DFA label have always infused a disco structure into the backbones of their records, but now that he is free to roam as a DJ, James has gone full tilt. Rifling through a crate of vinyl (the only performer of the evening to do so), Murphy showed the growing crowd why disco is far from dead.

James’ song selection was a sharp contrast to his impossibly casual demeanor, and there was no better example than noticing that he performs in his socks. I mean, come on. How cool is that? It’s just a quirky scenario to picture in your head. One of the greatest musicians of the present day is about to whip a throng of kids into a disco frenzy, but before all this goes down, let him take a moment to remove his shoes and get comfortable.

The night concluded with a performance from Sebastian Ingrosso, one third of electro’s darling Swedish House Mafia. Like James Murphy, Sebastian has enjoyed major crossover success in the music world. Swedish House Mafia is one of the biggest acts happening right now, and their hundreds of millions of YouTube views will testify to their universal popularity. Though Sebastian Ingrosso’s tunes have been associated with the world of fist-pumping bottle-service bros, it is hard to deny how infectious and inviting his music truly is.

Ingrosso was able to inject the crowd with some serious rumpus, and the night achieved its most electric point about halfway through his set. The stage was rigged with CO2 canisters that shot columns of white in coordination with the music, effectively shrinking the feel of the rather large Congress Theater. People packed it in up to the very front, and looking out it was impossible not to smile at the collective joy radiating from the crowd.

HARD x Mouth Taped Shut delivered one sick night of beats and debauchery, and what could have easily developed into a shit show turned out to be one of the highlights of Chicago scene in 2011. I still don’t know how they did it, but now more than ever, I simply do not care.

If you were at the Congress Hall this night check out our Facebook album for crowd shots!

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And it is important to note, this is house music. This shit is everywhere. Throughout the entire festival, not an instrument could be found. Decks, MIDI controllers and mixers prevailed, reflecting EDM’s general takeover of the American music scene moving into the summer. The notion of another electro-only festival may have seemed foreign this time last year, but with the baffling rise of dance music, a change of events that has the style almost synonymous with pop, Wavefront was able to stand on its own two feet in a music market that is quickly becoming saturated.

Turnout over the weekend was decent considering this fledgling production shared weekends with Electric Forest in Rothbury, Michigan, an event that surely sucked thousands of Wavefront’s target audience. But, even running under capacity the festival experienced some growing pains throughout the weekend. A confusing beer purchasing process (buy tickets for beers at one place, stand in line again to redeem the tickets for beers) drew a lot of ire from the crowd.

Also, the stages were maybe a little too close, and at times the sound bleed was overbearing when walking the grounds. There is nothing quite as unsettling as two off-beat dance tracks awkwardly bouncing between stages, and the haphazardly placed local stages were often drown out of the mix entirely. But, that is expected with first-run productions, and when face up at your main stage of choice, the sound was crisp and booming. So in the end, it all worked out.

Saturday featured headlining performances from Toronto’s own MSTRKRFT, Boys Noize, the King of Acid himself, and international superstar Eric Morillo. Musically, these acts are relatively diverse, and it was a nice triangulation of EDM styles on showcase. MSTRKRFT’s main focus went towards thumping bangers and sampling their own remixes from their catalogue, while Boys Noize went strictly acid for his 90-minute set. Noize’s dedication to acid electro has been growing since 2010’s Power, and the man avoided playing past hits from the Oi, Oi, Oi days almost entirely. He has truly come into  his own as the genre’s poster child. Morillo whipped out a high-energy set of his own style of upbeat EDM. Whenever I think of traditional house, the brand established in Chicago’s underground over thirty years ago, Morillo is a top of mind performer.

There was a definitive shift in atmosphere once the beating sun took the rest of the day off, and the crowd’s energy elevated significantly for the day’s closing acts. However, the show ended at 10 p.m. due to a local noise ordinance, a depressingly early time for an EDM show. Oh well, life goes on.

Sunday promised to be a seasonal highlight of mine, with performances by DFA’s Mahoney, Shit Robot, and one of my favorite human beings on planet earth, Mr. James Murphy. But unfortunately a wind storm wrecked the vendor tents at about 12:30, and the grounds had to be evacuated for a safety concern. After over two hours of delay, the show resumed, but neither Shit Robot nor Mr. Murphy were slated to pickup any stage time. Total bummer, but it was just one of those things that happens. The festival recovered nicely from the little snafu, as nicely as possible, and by about 4 o’clock it was as if nothing happened.

The festival closed out with a rare performance from Duck Sauce, production and DJ superduo fronted by A-Trak and Arman van Helden. Holy shit, these guys know what they’re doing. Straying from the traditional house offerings from the rest of the festival, Duck Sauce went pop-disco on everyone’s ass for a rousing 90-minute set. It was a refreshing listen after almost 48-straight hours of four-on-the-floor beats, and even though it was a Sunday night, the crowd gave it their all. I can only imagine they weren’t the most productive employees come Monday, but when you get a chance to see Duck Sauce, on the beach, it is an easy decision: fuck work.

Looking forward to next year, and I think that this will become a mainstay in the Chicago summer scene.

Visit our Facebook gallery for more images here, you might actually be in it.

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The band’s latest release, Take Care, Take Care, Take Care, which has been on the scene for a little more than a year now, is a testament to this evolution. The album is getting its due diligence with a second round of touring, and Explosions is set to mindfuck an audience near you throughout the course of the summer (with particular emphasis on June 26 at the Chicago Theater).

Seriously get your tickets now. This will be a sold-out tour.

At their very best, Explosions in the Sky is able to drive listeners to a moment of catharsis, and Take Care evenly spreads these pockets of sonic “aha” throughout the six-track offering. It listens as a complete thought and, compared to their previous work, is remarkably coherent from cut to cut. There are a lot of aspirational qualities to the album as a whole, and even though they abstain from any lyrical content, a slant of optimism seems to dwell throughout Take Care. But then again, maybe that’s just me.

That is the inherent beauty of bands like Explosions in the Sky; you make of it what you will and take comfort in knowing that there is no right answer. Take Care is more of a soundboard, a place to bounce your thoughts and musings to see what eventually sticks. Meaning is situational. On a sunny day, it’s one album, but on a backdrop of rain clouds, it’s another. And this isn’t singular to Take Care; Explosions’ body of work is a canvas to fill from the safety of your headphones.

While some may claim this adaptation of meaning is true for any band or song, with Explosions in the Sky, the phenomenon takes on a life of its own. Budding builds give way to open-handed smacks of cymbals and distortion, and just when you’re caught up in the chaos of it all, they take it down to a nimble buzz. There is no scientific method to their approach, and the only constant of their craft is a piled layer of sound. Subsequent listens yield new licks of EBow, floods of reverb and delicate interplay between lead guitars.

The intricacies of their work are not lost in a live setting, and if anything, they are able to expand upon the sources of controlled mayhem from each album. Noise rock is characteristically volatile in its nature, but the boys of Explosions take these compositional elements to unimaginable highs in a live setting. Check it out for yourself in the video below, and if you have any sense of anything, get your ass to their next show.

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Last night I witnessed some serious ladyboners going down at the Beat Kitchen, and it quickly became apparent that it is time to add another muse to the pantheon of rock goddesses, North Highland’s main squeeze Breda Malvini.

Fewer things are more refreshing than hearing a beautiful female voice carry a band. It helps break the monotony of dudes singing about being dudes with other dudes, something that gets a little old pretty damn quick. And I am not talking just from a purely sexual standpoint. The female touch adds a certain indescribable something to a band’s persona.

Going back to Leslie Feist, what would Broken Social Scene (BSS) be without her? Not much, that’s what, and the band has spent plenty of time trying to replace her creative input since she blossomed in her solo career. BSS is a prime example of the degree of authenticity that the ladies lend to a band, something that North Highlands has in spades. Love songs sound more loving, ballads more believable, and everything seems to be real.

Brenda Malvini isn’t just some eye candy thrown into a boy’s club – far from it. She is the creative centerpiece of the Brooklyn-based quintet. Their diverse compositions ebb and flow from her keys, with each supporting piece intertwined in place. Gentle builds catch you off guard, and Malvini’s voice just slaps you across the face with almost every note.

Given the musical range on Wild One, I was really curious to see how they would perform live. Most notably, North Highlands does a beautiful job of gently leading their fans into brief moments of catharsis with each successive track. Their pacing was phenomenal, something that really becomes important when you’re a group that touches on a wide variety of music genres in a one-hour set.

When breaking into Salty, the Beat Kitchen swayed in time with the dreamy bass line and fluttering guitar licks. The room kind of transformed into a collective happy place, and even the band seemed to react to everyone’s little moment. It was far and away the highlight of a night punctuated by an emerging talent in the indie game.

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