Devoid of live band and with Yukimi, Erik, Fredrik, Håkan and Arild's gear forming something of a ghostly, entirely inanimate backdrop it's a big ol' stage up there for the two diminutive Seattleites to occupy. However they practically over-compensate for this lack of aiding legs and limbs in the thunderous sheet of bass into which each fresh hip-hop number is slashed, said sheet draped over all to induce a vague state of woozy delirium. Indeed, so stentorian is the lower end that pocketed phones quiver like those of wayward thread-like B-listers as the pair skitter freely through what is effectively a direct translation of the acclaimed mixtapes that precede their half eight arrival. Live however, they pertain to the ADHD whimsy and roister of OFWGKTA, MC Stasia Irons visibly resembling Syd Tha Kid from the lofty vantage point of the upper deck – an outer echelon unfortunately filled with an overriding sense of apathy. Irons' partner, partner in crime, and boomer of sugar-dipped vox meanwhile, Catherine Harris-White, rocks and wobbles a perm last incarnated on the cover of the seminal Maggot Brain as the duo's inviting rap/ warble dynamic is undermined slightly by lyrical incomprehensibility, backing track dictatorship, and awkward reverberations in such a vast setting. It is therefore when the cued juice runs dry and the bass subsides that THEESatisfaction truly come into their own, with sublime vocals and snug raps forcefully showcased.
Truthfully the Forum is too great, grand, and ultimately grandiose for THEESatisfaction's brand of charmingly scuffed throwback hipping and hopping, a brand that resembles Irons' well-worn Converse that perennially retain all pseudo-chic originality. However, from the squelchy thump of the perfectly lethargic Cabin Fever to the groggy, oomphed-up soul of Do You Have Time the success accrued off the back of Bandcamp is both impressive and quite impressionable and, although the mixtape vibe eliminates much opportunity for personalisation and consequent interaction, their unflappable assuredness proves infectious. Incessant referencing to their typographically gauche title nods to typical rap collective etiquette and although a gang of just two, they pack quite the meaty punch. For whilst tonight may resound somewhat chaotically in places, at this premature phase, all's as it should be. Irons and Harris-White typify a modern-day Thelma & Louise, delivering lightly empowering feminism-tinged rhymes over a brief history of hip-hop as if clanging through the speakers of a '66 Thunderbird whilst their punctiliously fashioned coifs gradually uncurl in blustering gale. The Zeus-like figure of Håkan Wirenstrand is hauled down from his exalted dressing room to sway enthusiastically and, one may hypothesise, many more will soon be joining him.
