Who are Silver Apples and how have they managed to fill Patterns full of music fans from all walks of life? Well, the short answer is they are legends, pioneers in the music game, innovators in the definition of what music is.

Silver Apples started life back in 1967 as an electronic rock duo that consisted of Danny Taylor who played drums and Simeon on primitive home-made synthesizers. Also using an array of different sound filters, telegraph keys, radio parts, lab gear and an assortment of second hand electronic junk, the band attained a mighty reputation in New York’s enigmatic underground music scene. In the following two years the band released two albums and toured America but disbanded before they could release their third LP (which was already recorded) when the record label they were on folded in 1970. Fast forward 26 years to 1996 and Simeon resurrected Silver Apples; playing shows, releasing new music as well as finally releasing their lost third album. 2005 saw the untimely death of Danny Taylor – Simeon didn’t let this deter Silver Apples, and continued to take the show on the road which has culminated with album number six (Clinging To A Dream) released earlier this month.

The night began with the brilliant Bamboo, playing songs from their recently released second album The Dragon Flies Away. The album loosely depicts the range of emotions the Hannya demon mask (of Noh theatre) is capable of portraying when looking at it from different directions – obsession, jealousy, sorrow and rage – in a vivid array of gorgeous world music influences and mystifying electronic mastery. It’s fair to say there were some issues setting up the equipment on stage, and for the first couple of songs you could barely hear any vocals from Rachel Horwood (of Trash Kit and Halo Halo), who was centre stage equipped with a drum pad, a floor tom, an electronic banjo and an array of looper and effect pedals. At times their performance come across a little lacklustre, however, this could have also been part of the bands onstage mystic. As the set went on, Rachel’s voice became a real highlight of their set, with her deep soft sound becoming ever stronger. To the right of stage, Nick Carlisle (of Peepholes and Don’t Argue) surrounded himself with a Roland keyboard, two samplers and the Sequential Circuits Pro One synthesiser to create an impressive, interesting, and immersive sound which had the crowd smitten. Bamboo’s set mostly positioned itself around Oriental stylings. The banjo travelled up and down the pentatonic scale throughout, sounding just like a traditional Japanese string instrument – one song even featuring parts of Ryuichi Sakamoto’s ‘Merry Christmas Mr Lawrence’, which Rachel jokingly protested they were not ripping off.

Simeon the synthesiser wizard came on stage dressed in a black polo and black stockman hat with a feather coming out of it, immediately taking control of his vintage equipment. Silver Apples’ new tracks on Patterns bass heavy speakers made them take a dancey shape which, along with Simeon’s playful character, gave the downstairs venue a buzzing atmosphere and induced the audience into fits of nodding, bobbing and even far out dancing. Songs were simple with lots of layered synth sounds to live drum samples and though the bright synths tones are positive sounding, there was a dark nightmarish edge to music with prominent horror themes throughout the set. The end of the set saw a reshaped ‘Oscillations’, the hit from Silver Apples first album. By this stage, parts of the audience were really grooving out and pulling some mental shapes – understandably so, for if someone like The Chemical Brothers had played it out, people would have gone mad (in a very good way). Being a Saturday night, Patterns had to get itself prepared for the club night ahead – the gig came and went in an instant, Simeon walked off the stage in an overly apologetic manner because the lack of encore, not even a barrage of pantomime disappointments could sway this legend from taking to the stage again.
Iain Lauder

Website: silverapples.com