WaxTek: Pain and Pleasure

Great creativity often springs from small, beautiful places. I once sat in a pub in London and spoke to a man about Dunedin, where he attended university. A city of Scottish and Maori heritage on the southeast coast of New Zealand, it is the place of origin for Flying Nun Records, a rock collective from the 1980s. The collective came incredibly close to becoming the next new sound before the rise of grunge in the US. Nonetheless, they produced incredible music with a unique sound; one that, I believe, hasn’t been replicated to this day. If you have time, check out The Clean, The Bats, and The Chills. This town, in many ways, reminded me of the St Andrews scene.

He described it as a cold, boring place — one with plenty of drug use. That did not sound all that unfamiliar. What is there to do in St Andrews really except for play golf or sit in a pub? Drugs and boredom generally make for great music. There is no shortage of either of those in St Andrews, but in comparison to the vitality of other societies, there can be a severe lack of any signs of life when it comes to musical creativity. Maybe the two towns attract different types. Maybe there is nothing pressing enough to fight against. You would think the grey landscapes overhanging the North Sea, and rolling green hills with grazing sheep would inspire some sort of melancholic, longing tunes, but alas. A musical void amidst the endless grey rain remains. We do have DJs, I suppose. A neon mark on an otherwise dark and dreary map is Szentek: A DJ collective that incorporates visual art into its work. 

I was lucky enough to attend a collaboration between Szentek and Wax Rooms on Tuesday 25 February. My first thought was: techno, on a Tuesday? Terrible. It was originally meant to be held at ‘The Victorian Cafe’ on the previous Friday but was moved to The Rule. I can only assume the reason for this has to do with The Vic’s infamous rebrand. (Who would want to dine there is beyond me.) Tickets were a tenner. 

I walked up to the event alone, a bit tired, and stone cold sober. Reluctant upon entry, I was instantly uplifted by the transformation of The Rule. Colourful tapestries covered the walls of a generally dull room bringing to life the music playing. 

I spoke to Calla Mitchell, an art resident for Szentek, she shared the following: “The art intends to invite a unique and sensory experience for the participant to explore and exist within the event both visually and physically. The dancer enters a creatively organic space where the environment tickles their imagination while simultaneously enjoying deliciously transitory beats. The vibrant colours, fluid patterns, and reflective installations urge the dancers to let go, exist in the now and within the vibrations of sound.” 

I must admit, the kind of music that they often play is not my personal favourite. DJs can definitely be fun but I often find that electronic music exists in a limbo between the extreme highs and lows of live instrumental music. What I can say about Szentek is that it is inspired. They are driven to create something new, something that otherwise would not exist in this town. The most prominent aspect of this for me was the inclusion of live guitar solos into the DJ sets. It exemplified their clear ambition for innovation.

You may be wondering why I haven’t mentioned Wax Rooms yet. This is no coincidence. I spoke to Calla Mitchell and Jada Wenger, Assistant Director of Art, about why exactly they decided to collaborate. When I asked what Wax Rooms bring to the table, both Mitchell and Wenger had similar responses. Wenger said “they have good DJs”, whilst Mitchell simply emphasised the importance of collaboration. I do think that collaboration is important, and I do not know the intricacies of what transpires behind the decks. However, I did not feel that Wax Rooms left their mark as much as Szentek did. The stamp which still remains on my hand simply says “Szen”. Szentek was the one which, both literally and figuratively, left a lasting impact. 

Indeed, Szentek has made me feel hopeful for an oftentimes bleak St Andrews music scene.

Photo by Josephine Le Sourd