Mansur Brown @ The Vinyl Factory - 24th Sept 2024

I finally managed to catch the elusive electric guitar genius live. He exceeded high expectations. Art by Raj Dhunna

Yo! This is the first post I’ve written on Substack’s in-app feature on my iPhone. I’ve been waiting for the right moment to give it a go, so here we are. Shout out to Raj Dhunna, who stood beside me and drew the above illustration on his smartphone live in the crowd last night, for the inspiration.

A few weeks ago I wrote in these pages about how much I love the Brixton-raised electric guitar player Mansur Brown’s euphoric song Rise. I’ve been listening to his entire catalogue for a couple of years now. I regularly choose one of his projects or songs at random, hit play and let it run for hours without changing. I can think of few artists that I turn to like this so regularly and reliably. His compositions evoke all sorts of emotions and internal dialogues, whilst still managing to stay in the background when you need them to; it’s possible to be an active and passive listener, simultaneously, on your own terms. It’s intense but not invasive. I am so here for it.

Last night I left my work office in Shoreditch at 5pm and walked with my headphones on for one hour west through the city towards Holborn to meet a friend for dinner. Then we descended the stairs of The Vinyl Factory, which sits underground as part of 180 Studios on The Strand, in central London. A large, dark room with tables and shelves supporting a range of art and music magazines stood near a bar. Off to the side, guests could remove our shoes and sit reclining in a cushioned, soundproofed room listening to a mammoth set of carefully designed analog speakers play selected, chill vinyls.

After some time nursing a beer, I was led through the various rooms of the exhibition space, each lit by illuminated pieces of art, photography and videos hanging or playing from screens on the walls. Heading gradually downhill, turning in a few directions to navigate towards the performance space, felt disorientating, like entering a futuristic labyrinth.

Once we arrived, we formed ann intimate crowd around a small stage. Mansur Brown stepped in front of us to a round of applause. Joined by an interviewed, he was asked a series of questions about his musical craft, approach towards creativity, life and worldview. He spoke softly but firmly, giving thanks to god many times. He was as humble as I expected him to be.

Then after a while he grabbed his electric guitar, and his band — consisting of another guitarist, a bass guitarist and a drummer — stepped on stage, lit up by a cold blue hue of light and backdrop, and performed for a mesmerising 45 minutes.

His music veers seamlessly from light and dreamlike to darker and grungey, borrowing from rock, ambient, hip-hop and more. In this instance, it was less for dancing and more for swaying, bopping your head slowly, thinking deep thoughts. Hearing his voice explain his vision beforehand made the listening experience all the more potent.

I had very high expectations for this show and somehow they were still exceeded. I recommend getting lost in Brown’s music online, especially in moments of solitude and reflection, and grabbing a ticket to one of his live shows at the next available opportunity. I definitely will be.

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