James Zabiela + Jimmy Van M

The headline on the flier emphasized Orlando-based progressive house DJ Jimmy Van M’s name. Those going to the weekly “Spundae” at Circus Disco in Hollywood on Oct. 4 were probably expecting a night of lush, lulling ambient house and bombast-less trance. And for a while, the 1,800 Angeleno clubbers got just that. But come Saturday night — or Sunday morning, if you will — Van M wasn’t the headliner per se, nor was he the crowd favorite by the time the house lights went up. Those two distinctions went to another blonde-and-babyfaced DJ who, like Van M, is globally known as a frequent opener for UK progressive DJ Sasha: 24-year-old Brit James Zabiela. In the course of two exhilarating hours, Zabiela made the case that he’s no warm-up act — he’s a full-tilt, full-boogie whiz-kid who has blurred many a line, especially that between DJing and live performance. As a result, his post-peak set was the most inspired — and well-received — of the event. Zabiela has had a shotgun ascent, from his Muzik magazine Bedroom Bedlam victories in 2000 and 2001, and the subsequent signing to Sasha’s management agency, to a rigorous global touring itinerary and acclaimed, in-demand reputation as a producer. During his boss’ 2002 Airdrawndagger tour, his opening, upstaging set was the rage of Internet discussion boards. This year, he landed a coveted bi-weekly residency at Space in Ibiza, and he released his first high-profile mix: Sound in Motion, a high-tech, double-CD effort that eschews the usual Pro Tools overdub approach. It was recorded live using Zabiela’s toys of choice — two Pioneer CDJ1000 disc players, a Pioneer DJM600 pro mixer and a pair of Technics 1210 turntables — with the intent of capturing dynamics of his improvisatory live set. It’s one of the better mix albums released this year, but as Zabiela proved at Spundae, it can’t compete with his real-time artistry. After Jimmy Van M finished his deeply ethereal and much-cheered 90-minute set, Zabiela took over the decks. Van M had built up the vibe of the main room nicely, with his usual subtle, chiming selections, and this afforded Zabiela the right to bang it home until closing time. He wasted no time, either, as the first, breakbeat track saw him actively mixing a CD and record simultaneously, keeping busy on all the gadgetry while pogo-ing to keep the crowd’s attention. Not three minutes into his set, and the audience had already responded more emphatically than they had during most of Van M’s set. Thankfully, Zabiela restrained from basthe like an idol, as so many big-room DJs tend to do, and merely offered a gracious, unjaded smile. He does not sculpt or build up his sets conventionally. As exhibited on Sound in Motion, he prefers many peaks and valleys — though none too extreme in either direction — as opposed to the usual dark-to-light-to-climax approach most his peers prefer. In fact, Zabiela doesn’t really create the usual “journey” through his set; each spun track — sometimes enhanced with another playing simultaneously, which is occasionally the same song synced with a second or so delay, to apply the flange effect more associated with guitarists — is an entity to absorb all its own. And yet, once he’s ready to introduce another track, it’s usually a fluid transition from the song before it, so as not to divide anyone’s attention. He doesn’t necessarily subscribe to the meticulous and smooth mixing style of Sasha, Digweed or even Van M for that matter, given that he goes back and forth between breaks and 4/4 rhythms so often, but his segues never sound abrupt or sophomoric. This makes his type A personality tech style more akin to that of genre-benders like Lee Burridge (with more of an ear for melody), and Fatboy Slim (with less pop sheen and lager-flavored disco). Whether funky or elating or both, Zabiela creates a celebratory and subversive mood, glowing and throbbing at once. It has the uncertain madness of a sci-fi video game and the pinging, aberrant tempo of a pinball machine. For many of the onlookers, you could tell this auditory/visual spectacle was a revelation. Most DJs rely mostly on the strength of the track playing, or their own drill-team physicality, to reel in the crowd. Zabiela is more proactive on the gizmo front, hyperfocused on the manipulation and blending of his selections, or the arguably tangential scratching on the CDJ1000s, often slicing through the prog rumble like a table saw. His biggest distraction is not the clubbers, but the long, golden, surfer-like locks he’s constantly brushing from his eyes. And given his sunkissed good looks — along with his arsenal of circuited mechanisms, penchant for synth-y breaks with chunky basslines, fleeting ostentatiousness and natural connectivity with his fans — the DJ is reminiscent of L.A. techno figurehead BT, with less tunefulness and more mad-genius affectation. In fact, it might’ve behooved, if humbled, the veteran performer to catch this set if he hadn’t seen Zabiela already. While BT has been one of the more sonically experimental artists in electronic music, concertedly trying to move away from genre trappings by highlighting innovative production and digital coding, his DJ sets rarely exude much spontaneity; Zabiela, on the other hand, bridges the gaps between your standard prog DJ, a turntablist like Cut Chemist, and an electro-oriented jam act such as the New Deal or Particle. There is a wealth of influence weaving in and out of his sets, reliable only in its freshness, energy and skilled execution. Whatever he tends to play once he’s donned the headphones, you feel like you’re experiencing something new and off-the-cuff. If Zabiela had the crowd eating out of his hands, it was divided between the boisterous and the attentive. For the former, the uptempo affair was either ensuring they’d be awake for the drive home or extending whatever vice-provoking buzz they’d peaked with an hour earlier. Often, all it took was a high hat, or a jaunty synth note, or an acid line punctuating the napalm boogie, and the crowd would blissfully shriek. The latter constituency, mostly near the accessible DJ booth, watched like they were turntable students. One young girl waved for his attention and, once attaining it, simply asked what record he’d just played. He obliged her — no white-label secrecy here. Zabiela played some of the tunes featured on Sound in Motion, including a fuller version of the classic trance track “Space Manoeuvres” by Stage One (in acapella mode on the album), seemingly remixed on the spot as the DJ slowly lets the familiar, more melodic parts of the song emerge — though stopping short of climax. Instead, Zabiela furthered on — call it an encore, with the equivalent of the house lights all on and Jimmy Van M rejoining him in the booth — for a warped “solo” portion that allowed him to freestyle on the CDJ100s and treat the mixer like a fretboard. Then, as the lights cut out, he let loose a Bronx-rumbling, old-school break, alternating it with a dub/reggae element, the result sounding like a tug-of-war between Run-DMC’s “It’s Tricky” and Musical Youth’s “Pass the Dutchie”. And with that, Zabiela ran a loop of the spoken word “Hollywood”, and closed that very city’s heavyweight party. And as clubbers left, they dodged the usual brigade of flier distributors, probably because they couldn’t imagine anyone else topping what they’d seen tonight — which was the future of techno.