ivy lab.
INFINITE FALLING GROUND
When crafting a multimedia art piece, it is imperative that a solid throughline is established. A theme, concept, or emotion must be transmitted across all elements, and these parts should stand alone as fully realized and individual parts of a thorough and exhaustive whole. Ivy Lab, the London electronic duo of Gove Kidao and Jonathan Fogel (also known as Sabre and Stray respectively), understand this, and when bringing their new album Infinite Falling Ground and its accompanying short film to Brooklyn this February, they made sure the crowd understood this as well.
Their third full-length album and first in four years, Infinite Falling Ground is a deeply personal work, channeling the traumatic circumstances of the COVID pandemic and its ensuing tribulations into a dense, deep, and expansive collection of lo-fi beats, heavy foreboding bass, and rapid vocal sampling, all culminating in their most mature, fully realized collection of music yet. Having been performing and recording as a duo for a decade now, it’s not a far stretch to say that IFG is the culmination of years of soundplay, the full showcase of their skills, their masterwork.
So, how does Infinite Falling Ground transfer to the live setting? Thanks to the gripping short film, displayed in full during the show, impeccably. A morbid, psychedelic journey through the dissolution and eventual reconciliation of a relationship, IFG the film is anchored masterfully by the chopped vocals, deep thudding drops, and moments of brevity of IFG the album. Visuals of entomology, eye-catching contemporary dancing, and even a brutal assault via large rock on the side of the road convey the push and pull of a relationship on the rocks, as every piece of solace, every memory and good feeling the world offers disappears around them; infinite falling ground, with just the two of them left. Floating together. In a bathtub.
Beyond the nuances of the spectacle, their pristine attention to detail further shines in the caliber of the support they enlisted for the tour. On this leg, Ivy Lab were joined by Lake Hills and Nikki Nair. Lake Hills--who also directed the IFG visual piece--brought a brooding, atmospheric preamble that effectively set the tone for the remainder of the night. It became apparent immediately that this wasn’t going to be a typical Ivy Lab DJ set.
In opposition to the moody, thought-provoking deep bass and ambience, Nikki Nair cut a gaping hole in the tension with a cavalcade of blistering, bouncy and fun drum & bass and techno cuts. Among those was a masterful UK Garage edit of Hamdi’s wave-making dubstep cut “Skanka,” which has been a staple in the collections of DJs across genres this year, as well as the iconic SOPHIE track “Immaterial,” and an edit of Caroline Polachek’s brand-new track “Fly to You,” deftly showing his ability to create new sonic experiences while pulling from the freshest selections of tunes available.
After Nikki Nair’s high-octane hour-long foray, Sabre took the stage, bringing the house down as the representative of the Ivy Lab duo. An overtly expressive DJ, he enhanced the listening and viewing experience through his mixing of the album’s tracks. When faced with technical difficulties, he even paused the show temporarily until it was fixed, demonstrating the deep personal attachment at the heart of the music and its visual component. To protect the sanctity of the art only furthers the desire to preserve the throughline and maintain the full, uncompromising vision.
Elsewhere served as the perfect incubator for Infinite Falling Ground, as the visuals, projected behind the boards, enshrouded Sabre and created the illusion of him being enraptured in the visuals; it felt as if Sabre was immersed and breathing the emotion of the dancers, the entangled worms, and the crumbling relationship. The intimacy of the piece radiated in his stage presence, and coupled with the plodding bass and nostalgia-tinged vocal samples, Ivy Lab brought a confounding, resonant, and relatable display of catharsis, surrounding us with nothing but the crumbling of our walls in the face of a truly boundless spectacle.
- A. & C.