Body Meat and Anysia Kym: Mind-Altering Chops at L'Esco

Weekday shows have always irked me a little; standing in a crowd at 9 pm, with that lingering dread of class the next morning sitting idly in the back of my mind. It takes a special kind of music to cut through that sadness, and thankfully L’Escogriffe Bar had exactly that this past Tuesday night. 

What originally sucked me out of my final paper procrastination den and onto the cold windy landscape of Rue St Denis was Brooklyn producer turned musical multi-hyphenate Anysia Kym. I’ve been using Kym’s newest album, Truest, to drown out my roommates all semester, and as soon as I saw her name on a bill I jumped to get tickets. To my luck, she happened to be opening for Philadelphia weirdo Body Meat, an artist whose raw musicality is enough to put most of his peers to shame (think of an electronic Mk.Gee for millennials, in the best way possible). This double feature of sonic forward thinkers had me bouncing around L’Esco like an idiot, but before I was allowed to get too excited I was subjected to something potentially horrible: a local opener. 

Thankfully, local electronic trio Gladhanding kicked total ass. With experimental pop being as widespread and mainstream as it’s ever been, it feels (to me) as though the genre is a little oversaturated; Gladhanding fights tooth and nail to not fall victim to this, as every sound jammed through the amps last Tuesday felt fresh. While this didn’t always make for the most enjoyable music, the trio still seemed to get their message across: they are doing what they want, and having a delightful time doing it. After my ears calibrated a little more to the blaring synth lines and electronically-possessed vocals, I found myself enjoying what Gladhanding had to offer. As I’ve always said, is it really good music if you don’t have to work to enjoy it a little?

After a quick intermission spent ogling at the characteristically overpriced merch, Anysia Kym took the stage in all her DIY glory. Kym’s self-introduction was fairly tentative, and it's easy to see why; this was the first show on Kym’s first-ever opening tour, and she is still pretty fresh off the release of her first album to predominantly feature her own voice. Still, with nothing but an SP-555 and a MacBook in hand, the Brooklyn DJ powered through, and did so with relative ease. All of Kym’s on-stage work features her own live beat creation, shaping samples on her 555 in real-time. This gave the whole performance a really personal feel, as each song felt distinctly of that moment, filled with short bursts of improvisational chops. Kym’s sound feels impossibly physical, each loop feeling as tactile as pressing a button yourself. Her vocals contrast this beautifully, floating completely untethered over each track as if both components just happened to end up in the room together, perfectly synchronized. It feels like the music you would hear in a recurring dream, that fragments into a million disjointed pieces upon waking up. It’s no wonder Body Meat claims she’s the future of music.

Considering the music Body Meat displayed to L’Esco not 10 minutes later, that statement is a huge compliment. The second the Christ Taylor took the stage the room filled with tiny-beanie-toting millennial hipsters, like they sprung from the floorboards. As much as I try to distance myself from this demographic, their music tastes seem to align a worrying amount with mine; Body Flesh was no different. What followed was 45 minutes of a variable music cluster bomb, jumping from glitchy experimental pop cuts to borderline nu-metal tracks with R&B melodies. To say Taylor’s music is over-produced would be a rude understatement, but every component jammed into his sound still comes together perfectly, like the weirdest ever sonic puzzle. This is all complimented by Body Meat’s animated, electronic voice, pushed through filter after filter but somehow maintaining a beautiful raw character. It’s not hard to draw comparisons between Taylor’s voice and someone like Bladee’s (take that as you will), both possessing an almost rugged charm in their vocal deliveries. Would I say that Body Meat is a good singer? Classically, no. Does that mean that someone like Jessica Pratt would sound better on any of his cuts? Also no. The rawness of Taylor’s voice cuts through the heavy instrumentals like butter, and makes for a captivatingly personal performance.

All in all, L’Esco hosted exactly what I had expected for this night: a display of what feels like the future of music. Glitchy, funky, and a little all over the place, I was the furthest from disappointed one can be. Check out Body Meat’s newest release Starchris here, and Anysia Kym’s latest work Truest here.

Sam Kitch is the magazine editor at CJLO 1690AM. He is also the host of I Think You Might Like This, a hip-hop show airing Tuesdays at 2:00 PM.