So Toronto synthpunk superstars Crystal Castles released their third album last week. Just like their last record, and the record before it, it’s called Crystal Castles, but it seems it’s being stylized as (III) (which is nowhere near as catchy as Melt). I wanted to review this album for you, gentle reader, but with each consecutive listen it became more and more apparent that Crystal Castles’ lack of ambition and originality isn’t limited to their eponymous naming tradition. The LP is a Frankenstein Xerox of a thing, a selection of squarewaves, synthetic bass drums, and avant-house gurgles and pitchshifts cobbled together from the band’s back catalogue. Nothing stands out, no track bears repeating. Alice Glass’ Julee-Cruise-having-a-duet-with-Poly-Styrene-underwater vocals are the same as they’ve ever been. It’s not a step backward, per se, but the band’s unwillingness to evolve is disheartening.

I don’t know why I’m surprised by any of this, really. In retrospect, Crystal Castles have never proven themselves to be all that competent in the art of Albumcraft. Their first release, 2006’s Alice Practice EP, still stands as their one cohesive statement; a four song rallying cry forged out of placeholder vocals, lightning fast bitrock, and pretentious-ass samples of avant-garde singer Cathy Berberian reading Ulysses. When three of the four tracks showed up virtually unchanged on their 2008 debut, their impact was muted, not only by age, but by having to share their space with thirteen far less worthy copycats. With each successive release, it became more obvious that Crystal Castles had created a distinctive and mind-bending sound, only to do nothing of interest with it. They were making cokefiend psychedelia: frenetic and complex but ultimately empty and irritating. Ambient music for people raised in trash compactors. Dubstep for people too cool for dubstep.

And, like dubstep, Crystal Castles prove to be at their best when diluted by outside influence. The Ulysses sample in “Air War,” the secretly recorded vocals that give “Alice Practice” its name, the Robert Smith-assisted re-imagining of Platinum Blonde’s “Not in Love,” and their classic remix of Klaxons’ “Atlantis to Interzone;” what makes these songs so phenomenal is that they are Crystal Castles and. Their admittedly unique sound and vibe isn’t enough to sustain an album; they need that external x-factor to properly succeed.

What I’m getting at is I think it would be neat if Crystal Castles stopped making albums and re-envisioned themselves as a sick production duo. Every once in a while they could do a showcase in the style of N.A.S.A. or Neptunes, but for the most part they would stick to working on other people’s albums and churning out amazing hip-hop singles. Don’t tell me that Alice Glass interjecting with Timbaland-esque “uh-huh’s” and “alrights” wouldn’t be fantastic.

Or maybe that’s just me. Honestly, they can do whatever they want, as long as I’m not listening to the same fucking record, renamed (IV), in 2014.

Ticket holders may have been skeptical when a last-minute change of location was announced last Tuesday. The show was originally supposed to take place at the Brooklyn Terminal Project, a brand new venue located on the waterfront across Governor’s Island, but organizers had to operate a last minute switch. No one however seemed too disappointed upon entering the Beekman Beach Club, a lovely slice of boardwalk located directly on the East River.

Seemingly unaffected by the occasional rain, ravers and ragers were already waiting in line at 4pm, the show’s official kick-off time. Those ‘early’ birds were able to enjoy pounding electro sets by Djs Sazon Booya, Nick Catchdubs and Alex English, while playing fussball or chilling on the sand. An impressive amount of colorful sunglasses, skimpy bikinis and fruity cocktails achieved to make the event feel like a true Californian beach party.

As the sun began to set, the night took a whole new turn and madness descended upon the crowd. Knife Party’s Aussies hit the decks around 9pm, and fans immediately left sand and sun behind, flocking towards the main tent to see the duo perform. Highly anticipated Knife Party did not disappoint, delivering a two hour set best described as a mix of heavy electro, grinding drum’n'bass and very, very angry dubstep. Meanwhile, hundreds of kids seemed to let go of all their inhibitions and entered into a raging party trance, the likes of which South Street Seaport has probably never seen.

While Knife Party’s Rob Swire and Gareth MacGrillan were busy raining down hellfire on masses of shell-shocked ravers, logistical problems due to the last minute change in location started to shine through. The main entrance quickly turned into a monstrous traffic jam, as only a narrow corridor multitasked as pathway to the show, the bar and the restroom. For over two hours, getting a beer involved risking one’s life fighting off dozens of thirsty, fist-pumping ravers, and reaching the bathroom became a trial comparable to Ulysses’ Odyssey.

Knife Party, who were mainly here to promote their latest 4 tracks E.P Rage Valley, delivered as promised. For the span of one afternoon, Manhattan’s South Street Seaport truly turned into a Rage Valley of sort, an epic summer rave in the heart of the city. The set ended at 11pm, leaving Brooklyn Dj Hellfire Machina the honor to finish off the remaining die-hard dubstep addicts. And finish them off he did, spinning a brutal and chaotic set that seemed to have been designed for one thing and one thing only: to put us all out of our misery.

Despite a few minor hiccups due to the change in venue, Sunday’s Knife Party did achieve its primary objective, to make us dance until we drop. Ravers went home that night with barely enough energy to sustain the smile on their faces, but ready to go again next weekend. New York will dance to the sound of dubstep this summer. You have been warned.

Article by Laurent Berstecher