Duet Emmo
Nik Colk Void
ICA, London
27 October 2027
Our eyes meet
In the Mute records catalogue, the album that came immediately before Yazoo’s You and Me Both was an experimental recording that featured the most beautiful love song ever written.
Recorded at Blackwing Studios, with the engineering team of Radcliffe and Fryer, Or So It Seems was far leftfield of Yazoo. Assembled by Bruce Gilbert and Graham Lewis on hiatus from Wire and recording as Dome) and Mute Records’ Daniel Miller, it was released under the name, Duet Emmo. The anagram of Mute and Dome was a clue to the artists involved but also a statement about the nature of their accomplishment: a fusion of Miller’s electronics and the Dome lads’ electro-acoustic studio games.
The most perfect expression of that was the title track. Released as a 12″ single with a cover that mirrored the most recent Dome album, it contained two versions of the song – the second retitled, “Heart of Hearts.” With Lewis singing the words over a looped synth line, the grooves of the record were impressed with a romantic ideal and dreamy sense of mystery that belied the grim conditions during the winter of 1982.
From time to time
There was neither the need nor the possibility for a live show to present the record when it came out. It was a product of experimentation in Blackwing, and Miller had albums from Depeche Mode and Yazoo to produce. The Duet Emmo sessions were a breathing space in which he could engage creatively and explore the possibilities of his new equipment. Apart from the title track, little else from the sessions resembled a traditional song; and recreating the material on stage wouldn’t have added to its meaning or impact.
What a difference four decades make. Admired by the cognoscenti from the beginning, the album has quietly built up legendary status as the intersection between three artists who have acquired stature as living legends. The young men who gathered in a former church in Southwark one Christmas have grown into giants of alternative music: Miller has an honourary doctorate and runs one of the world’s most respected independent record labels; Lewis has accumulated a massive body of work as part of Wire, He Said, and a long list of projects; and Gilbert, who left Wire to avoid the burdens of commercial success, has an impressive catalogue of his own, including A.C. Marias and compositions for dance and installations.
The road to the ICA was a short one, once Miller got the idea. He has been improvising with a modular rack as part of Sunroof (with Gareth Jones), and the portability and flexibility of the equipment opened the door. He put a proposal to Gilbert and Lewis, and they took up the challenge to recreate Or So It Seems in the spirit of their original collaboration.
In sleep, in dreams
That leads to three tables, arranged with boxes, mixing boards, laptops, and wires, in the centre of a theatre on The Mall. After a compelling warm-up set by Nik Colk Void, Duet Emmo take their places and electrons begin to flow; new circuits connecting the minds of the artists as they reimagine their now-classic work. They watch each other carefully, looking for cues to intensify or harness the energy flowing through their toolkits, in – as far as anyone can make out – a set that follows the sequencing of the original album.
The best clues come from Lewis’ vocals. “Hill of Men” opens; it’s original chugging rhythm now reimagined through modules manipulated in real time.
“Or So It Seems” emerges with none of its ambiguity lost. Lewis stretches the vocals until they are see-through; lacing them with the longing and doubt that are invested in the original. Billboard can keep “Endless Love” and the rest of its “Top 50 Love Songs of All Time” – this is the most vulnerable and achingly beautiful love song ever written. The original fades out with a muffled heartbeat that merges with a glitched groove; the live version reaches a crescendo of filtered noises that intertwine like the fingers of lovers. It breaks and heals the heart, in equal measure.
“The First Person” features a heavy pulse that ebbs and flows; soaring vocals from Lewis; and harsh chords. “A.N.C.,” “Long Sledge,” “Gatemmo,” and “Last’s Card” bleed into each other as a series of improvised rites. This is the working method that thrives at Cafe OTO; with the artists selecting their instruments and making their moves according to unspoken principles. There are recognisable elements in the pieces, which act as signposts but don’t anchor them to their original versions. The sounds move freely but with sensitivity; merging with others or navigating their boundaries.
Some listeners stroke their chins while listening. Others press forward to absorb the unfolding dynamic or scrutinise the equipment. Those who gain the most close their eyes and let the sounds caress them. The power and pleasures of electronic music largely come from its evolution; and the signals in the room have exquisite DNA.
Or so it seems
Duet Emmo is a studio project brought to life; but it is also a live project carrying the methods of the studio. The performance is immersive and instructive; revealing the individual styles of the participants and releasing the potential energy of their collaboration. Winter is coming back to London, but the years have not diminished the white heat created when these men work together.