The normal rule for those living in Austin these days is, there’s no need to go out of your way to see the hundreds of the local bands playing. However, when the psyche instrumental group Octopus Project is putting on the HEXADECAGON, a limited run special event that involves eight channels of audio and eight more of video, blended together into a psyche concoction so powerful it sent the Project out hustling a corporate sponsor for the first time. Two shows only, free, all ages, all freaks welcome. You bet Austin turned out for this one.
Performed “in the round,” swimming onstage in the middle of the crowd, the buzz quickly wrapped around in concentric circles – because of the speaker placement and orchestration of the music, we’d all be hearing different shows. I glanced onstage and saw a feast of electronic equipment strung out across a pair of sawhorses.
The first crescendo of sharp keyboards heralded the video stream – which quickly reveled in its own nonsensical absurdity, flashing an assortment of gumdrops in various institutional locations such as grocery stores and school rooms. The drums popping in the background, you could sense the Octopus Project setting their tasers to stun.
The flood of syncopated sound and video was extremely well-coordinated. So much so that it reminded me that to actually pull off a truly psychedelic show you actually need to be smart. At one point there was a glitch in one of the loops and the band was either waiting for something to change or re-starting the machines when one of them commented, “this shit is complicated man.”
A dreamscape and sonic deluge continued – images roaring across the screen ranging in substance and style. Clay-mation, animation, stop-motion, video, fractals and screen-savers, the Octopus Project seemed to bring a truly inclusive projection system. The screens were actually on the roof of the tent, so the entire environment took on the feel of a more intimate IMAX. They are truly fishing in the sea of the unknown, simplifying the complications of media and technology and wringing some pleasure from the madness.
When Yvonne Lambert brought out the Theremin, it seemed to regain some of that instruments magic, as she guided the crowd through a pastiche of colors and sounds. I had written down that the music reminded me of an Inter-galactic Western until someone pointed out that was just saying they were Space Cowboys. Still, I’d have to insist that if I were going to take the Felix Baumgartner stratosphere suicide plunge, I’d have to listen to the HEXADECAGON soundtrack or a drunken rodeo band.
Words by Jacob Cottingham, Photos by Dustin Downing
