last weekend began with late at tate britain: warp x tate - 'a free evening of performance and installations from warp records and jeremy deller, inspired by deller's work 'the history of the world' [also below].
the event was almost wrecked by the thousands that attempted to get in, in what i suspect to be a cascade effect of social media. it appeared that every hipster in town [or at least in shoreditch] had got word that this was the place to be that evening, probably encouraged by the words 'free', 'warp records', and the way that it wasn't entirely clear from the publicity whether certain artists would be personally performing, when in fact they had created sound art installations and were not present themselves, or at least were anonymous.
i was the only one of my friends to get in, because i arrived early. the queue was already two blocks long, but moved suprisingly swiftly. i then had text conversations with disappointed friends who arrived 15 or 20 minutes later to find thousands outside the gallery and no more admitted. inside, the gallery was uncomfortably crowded, full of people roaming around in search of the party that wasn't quite there.
i didn't see everything due to queues, crowds and sore legs. rustie had filled the turner galleries with rustie-ish ambient sounds booming at high volume - ok but no connection with the art at all. 'summers of love' by hudson mohawke was much more fun - reimagining the chapman brothers' 'chapman family collection' as an acid house party. the people laughed at the art, and the art laughed at the people.
somehow i stayed until 9pm to catch what turned out to be the highlight of the evening: the fairey brass band playing jeremy deller's 'acid brass'. deller had challenged a brass band to perform classic acid house tracks, and the transcription from one form of music to a very different one is a triumph of the arranger's art. as the audience warmed up, the event showed signs of being the rave/party that it perhaps should have been all along.
i have filled my limit on vimeo until monday: still to come, one more brass band clip and the room called 303/808 which presented said synthesisers on plinths and making their characteristic noises. most disturbing artwork of the evening: a movie of middle aged men dressed as ravers and performing a morris dance.
it struck me as curious that most of the people there were only just being born at the time of acid house in the late 80s. i can't imagine an event celebrating the music of my own birth year  drawing roadblock crowds of my contemporaries - because it's less epochal, but mostly because we have our own musical culture from much later. during the late 20th century music was constantly swept aside by newer music. in 1988 we didn't gather to celebrate 1963. in 1977 we buried 1952 [god save the queen!]. but the cultural revolution that remakes society again and again in its own image is no longer in music, but in technology.