Legowelt

It is something to see a crowd interact with the music of Holland's Danny Wolfers. Producing under the name Legowelt, the cult producer's lo-fi, old-school house comes on in waves like an acid trip. The harsh samples and insular synthesis of early drum machines and vintage keyboards build, woozily minimal and progressive, taking the occasional left turn. There is a rawness to his sound, echoing the learning curve that accompanied the proliferation of affordable synthesizers for home producers in the late '70s and early '80s, that mix of innocence and excitement, of possibilities previously unimagined. Yet, as Wolfers evolves his otherwise uniformed compositions, eventually something happens that connects on a deeper level, beyond the anachronistic inclinations and heady historical/academic perspectives that make his recordings so intriguing. It is plainly visible when this connection happens with a live crowd, when that perfect lead or bass line comes in and consolidates the whole, as pockets of people, rippling through the venue, break through his aesthetic dystopia and get down to their tribal instincts.