It’s one of those Tuesday evenings, where you’re not quite at hump day, but you’re elated that’s it’s no longer Monday. You don’t really want to go out, but something is propelling you forward. Maybe that something is a sold-out show with the formidable Jon Hopkins? For tonight’s encounter, we’re at Brooklyn Steel, an unassuming warehouse-like venue with food trucks out front and lovely humans at coat check out back. It marks the end of the English producer’s most recent North American tour, a triumphant end to the well received album ‘Singularity’ released earlier this year.
Hopkins is a composer and electronic music producer who’s been nominated twice for the UK’s Mercury Prize. He’s worked with the likes of Brian Eno, Massive Attack and eon Vynehall. A gifted pianist from a young age, he applies his classical training to electronic music, creating luxurious ambient soundscapes with nuanced arrangements.
Fellow British beatmaker Leon Vynehall opens up with a live set that swung between a smattering of guttural undertones and fearless pauses. The crowd is completely uninterested in the experimental set, chatting away while lights flicker across eyelids while the soundscapes of an autumnal walk in the park caress the venue; it’s a truly impressive experience regardless of the unenthused audience.
A “there he is” escapes the lips of a punter behind me. Jon Hopkins is officially present, replete in a simple shirt and jeans, and visually unassuming. The true magic of the evening arrives in the form of Hopkins’ ability to present each track with refreshing nuance. Crowd favorite, “Open Eye Signal” is offered in a 2.0 version, reimagined for a live audience with powerful drops and a visual bombardment of colour. The whirring synths break up any lingering thoughts from your work day, massage the tension in your brow, and let you pause for a conscious, deep breath.
Hopkins has the ability to take the crowd down, pummelling chests with the weight of bass, before lifting you up and letting you gasp for air in the reprieve. As a reward, Hopkins showers the room with transcendental visuals mixed with glittering synths. Tracks like “Emerald Rush” are accompanied by an animated Hopkins descending into a space forest for a battle with himself.
Each moment of the show is fleeting and ephemeral, as the beat weaves you through Hopkins’ core, so that you are detached from reality but incredibly present at the same time. In Hopkins’ world, rare and rich dualities exist. He creates a space for humanity’s highs and lows, encouraging you to appreciate the full spectrum of human feeling. Stumbling out of the venue in a daze, the audience is blissfully unaware of their surroundings, but are all unified by the same sense of calm.