After a salsa DJ set, three piece Parts and Labor began with a soft intro which quite expectedly launched into a noisy barrage of a song, the kind you might imagine a drum kit, muddy-sounding bass, and a synthesizer hooked up to a few effects pedals might make. After a few more of these noisy, pop song-length pieces, they invited bagpiper Matt Welch up on stage. Welch tuned up and off they went, a bit like before, but with bagpipes. These songs tended to be slightly more melodic, which can possibly be attributed to some serious bagpipe wizardry (as far as I can tell, Matt Welch must be the Eddie Van Halen of the bagpipes). It seemed like Parts and Labor were happy with their set and they finished up to warm Williamsburg applause.

Next up was one man band Tyondai Braxton (son of jazz icon Anthony Braxton, for those who care). Crouched on the stage and completely obstructed by the tall dudes in front of us, he began his trademark use of live looping of guitar and voice with not a laptop or sampler, but simple guitar delay pedals. For about 40 minutes he dynamically looped and manipulated, resulting in never a dull sonic moment, though staring at the back of hipster heads was about as interesting as watching QVC. After all, when you go to show to see someone, you do want to actually see them, right? But despite this, it is clear Tyondai Braxton is as original as they come. Everyone can look forward to great things from this guy.

After the DJ played some more salsa and a bit of rock, out came Mr. O’Rourke, who was billed as “Jim O’Rourke Solo Noise Action”. Being familiar with (and quite a fan of) his laptop projects of the last year, namely his solo record I’m Happy, and I’m Singing, and a 1, 2, 3, 4, and FennO’Berg, an improv project with Christian Fennesz and Peter Rehberg (a.k.a. Pita, who also runs the fabulous Mego records), I would be lying if I said I wasn’t hoping he would be performing with his powerbook. But nope, perhaps O’Rourke has already gotten bored with his computer, as for this performance he was sporting a (prepared?) Fender Jaguar guitar and table of unknown electronics connected to what looked like a midi controller keyboard. He lit a cigarette and started up the electronics, which could best be described as noisy. He added to the electronic cacophony with even more noise from the guitar, not by strumming but by fingered jabs and quick pickings. Just a few minutes into this solo noise, the action came in as O’Rourke started to pretty much rock out as if he were playing with his band mates in Sonic Youth. Actually, the sound very much reminded me of Sonic Youth at their nosiest, only with crude-sounding electronics instead of crashing cymbals.

O’Rourke had settled down a bit, but it was still noisy as ever when someone who is best described as an asshole threw a plastic cup full of liquid and ice, hitting O’Rourke all over and supposedly ruining a few thousand dollars’ worth of the mysterious electronics. Interestingly, O’Rourke did not even flinch, he just kept on with the noise making. Now I have seen many a rock show, where everything from full bottles of beer to birthday cake has been thrown on stage, sometimes to the most hilarious effect, but this instance was rather unsettling for whatever reason (but certainly not of reverence, of course). It was like witnessing a real act of violence. For reasons too complex to go into here, the act raised a few questions about what is acceptable in the rock venue and what is not. I’m sure if O’Rourke had performed in, say, an art gallery, his gear would have probably ended up ruin-free.

About 20 minutes later, O’Rourke unplugged the electronics from the amp and picked out this beautiful, otherworldly-sounding lullaby for just a few seconds, and the performance ended and the crowd applauded, if a bit uncomfortably. After all that noise, the cup throwing incident still resonated and I felt a little sorry for O’Rourke, something I would never hope to do. I wanted to give him a hug, but I don’t think the self-proclaimed misanthrope would have warmly embraced a stranger such as myself.