Saturday Night: Rusko At Warehouse Live
See more young local dubsteppers from Saturday in our slideshow.
As any cranky old scenester will tell you, there comes a time when you feel that your favorite underground and underappreciated art form has been co-opted and corrupted. Usually, this perversion of purity occurs when someone other than people with the purest of intentions decides to push this new genre (not to mention the occasional scene-specific microgenre) into some unfortunate new direction.
Such culprits range from record-company types in search of a new cash cow and acolytes and underlings who weren't part of the original troupe of true believers to a former true believer with some sort of axe to grind.
In the case of Rusko and dubstep, however, none of the usual generalizations ring true. The guy has been around the UK's dubstep scene for several years, releasing a slew of singles along with a fantastic Fabriclive mixtape (#37, partnered with Caspa) before stepping into the relative electro "spotlight" last year with O.M.G.
Yet instead of the usual sort of gloom-and-doom soundscapes crafted by Burial, Kode9, and the Hyperdub collective (much less that scene's angry little brother, grime), Rusko has been at the forefront of taking dubstep's wobbly basslines and spectral sound effects and pairing them with the sort of driving, uptempo sounds traditionally associated with drum-and-bass, much less old-school house).
The result of all this supposed genre disloyalty is dubstep's increased popularity amongst American youth, specifically new-school rave kids, frat daddies, and the types of folks you might see dancing in Washington Avenue clubs. Referred to in some circles by the cynical moniker "brostep," Rusko brought this high-energy take on dubstep to Warehouse Live Saturday night, and received an enthusiastic, over-the-top response from the sold-out crowd.
On average, Aftermath would have placed the average age of attendees at this all-ages show as college-aged kids who can't legally purchase alcohol yet. Young'uns were slathered in either copious amounts of neon or jeans, T-shirts, and trainers, while their relative elders were dressed as if they were at a hopping club - polos and nice jeans for guys, short skirts and heels for the ladies.
No matter the dress, people came ready to party late into the night, and Rusko, with tourmate Doorly, were more than happy to accommodate anyone hungry for a good time.