“[My music] hopefully has a certain like, um, unbound, like, like free and radical energy that people could use and go along with it and use it for their purposes, like have a certain dialogue with the music and get into a certain, yeah, get into an ‘exploratous’ momentum and if the music can provide that then I think it’s, yeah, I think there’s not more than you can push for music,” says Jan St. Werner of Mouse on Mars.
Mouse on Mars’ sold-out October 23rd performance at the Bowery Ballroom in New York City unleashed a frenetic energy unlike any I’ve seen in the realm of indie-rock and its aficionados. The Rapture preoccupy themselves with image. Interpol’s main indulgence is fashion. !!! grapple with the pronunciation of their name. Mouse on Mars’ only concern is rocking you off your ass.
The tour comes in support of their latest record, Radical Connector, an excited meditation on art, interconnectedness and the impulse of booty-shaking. “People dance the way they wanna; it’s really like that,” Jan emphasizes.
The response to the irresistible “Wipe That Sound” was unanimous: an unbridled robotic sway-cum-seizure. Apparently, most people in the crowd had a predisposition towards epilepsy. In the words of St. Werner, “First we have to unite them, and then we can start the party.”
For their current tour, Mouse on Mars brought along a legitimate live band, including St. Werner working the electronics, Andi Toma on the bass and Dodo Nkishi providing drums and vocals. For the additional rock of “Wipe That Sound,” the band brought out a “little orchestra” including a Ratatat guitarist and Muffin Man, an intimidatingly goofy rapper along the lines of Method Man. He was clad in a red jumpsuit, dreadlocks past his shoulders, a bandanna around his head, a pair of goggles above his eyes, and several metal spikes protruding from his forehead. He also wore an American flag handkerchief around his wrist, which stood out prominently when he waved his hands in the air