Rock Monsters Romania

That sunny day, a few hours prior to this event, I was on lunch break at work, sipping coffee on the hospital’s fourteenth floor. The first signs of the upcoming summer heat were starting to drape over my face. It’s that time of the spring when you begin to notice it. A third of the year’s gone out the window, and you’re obliged to have gotten a grip of it by now. No one does, though. The need to make sense is artificial. But the pondering lasts forever. Or so I felt for the rest of that day, even after I had left Control Club once again. 

The night of May 5th was another Wednesday. It was also a night out with the girls. Warm and cozy. Fragile, even. It was the night when the electronic/alternative group Rotko launched their debut album, “pointless ways to operate,” as part of another memorable Stray Lights Community event.

The concert’s openers were Coridor Apt., or the usual suspects so to speak. A midwest emo local band we’ve been familiar with for quite a while, who played records from their EP, “Interior.” What this band brings to the table is a fun, timeless rendition of the good old sparkly emo riffs that sound like skipping through a depressive episode at your sweet sixteen. There’s a beautiful, innocent dialogue between the playful melodies and the lyrical compositions. Both simple, almost textbook-like constructions with a suburban feel. However, they took some advantage in the local scarcity of this subgenre, and made it their own. The warm-up for the main event was beautifully done, and I do hope the next time I see this band, that they’d gained some extra nerve in their performance in the meantime. Soon enough they’ll headline their own events like this one. Still, you can’t help but shout with them: “MATEMATICAAA!”

And there they were. Rotko is a fresh, promising project, emerging from the heart of the country, in Cluj Napoca. It’s almost unavailing to try to encompass this band into a genre. And it feels equally stupid for me to form opinions on a rock band who brings two DJs live on stage at the same time.  

The first thing I noticed about Rotko’s set up was the glorious amount of cables, buttons and colorful, light up devices. As if it was Christmas night. Or the morning of a test I hadn’t studied for. The complexity of what we were about to witness was obviously overwhelming, but the essence of the set was vibrant and comfortable, so I managed to come out alive. 

The show was like a hot cup of ginger tea, sweetened just to taste. Piercing the tongue with questions, comfortable in its peculiarity, slightly aiming for the sinuses, but not too strong to deflect from its infused nature. It’s not crazy or uncanny, for the nature of tea is kind. Like the age-old stereotype about the Transylvanian way of living, this performance had a rather polite, calculated attitude. Not to suggest that Rotko makes elevator music, but rather a very intentional kind of sound. The instrumentals have a certain atmospheric, minimalist background where a dialogue is built. The distorted guitar would chat with the modular synth, politely debate for a few measures, then come to a conclusion in the end. But the drums were my favourite element of the compositions. Take the track “nosebleed/paraphrasing” for example, where the rhythm kept me grounded and convinced me that this is not a DIY project. The drums specifically were the thread with which the songs were sewn together, otherwise the organic and the electronic would have torn each other apart. 

Now, if you’re an ambitiously performative listener, it’s very easy to dig in with your claws and pretend to master this album’s language, but it would feel like gripping sand between your fingers. The chaotic numbness reminds you of jazz. The tenderness evokes the feeling of a distilled art rock ballad. The melodies would sometimes seem like the jingles you hear from the washing machine when the laundry program’s over. Artificially artistic, demanding to be dried, folded, and ironed onto the mind. As a matter of fact, I’m not entirely sure what I had just listened to, but you can probably tell from my innocent metaphors. I believe this body of text resembles Rotko’s music in a way. I was swept off my feet, but luckily I didn’t feel too dizzy afterwards. And I also got to dance a little. They finished their set with what I initially believed to be a Massive Attack cover, only to conclude that that was merely inspiration.

The show ended with probably the biggest waiting line I’ve ever caught at the merch stand in Control. By the time I had reached that table, the CDs were long gone and the frontman had to assemble the extras live while the rest of us waited patiently. “A true Benihana experience!” said Victor Daraban from Brainwasher. 

It may be too late to start again on those New Year’s Resolutions. And yet too soon to leave myself on the ground. I ended the night feeling refreshed as ever, and thankful that this band’s name isn’t (probably) directly inspired from the painter Mark Rothko, as I initially thought. Thank God for the one letter difference, for it would have been an awful comparison. For what it’s worth, the painter’s not half as good.

“Crowd Diaries” is a series of heartfelt articles with the purpose of reviewing live music from a personal experience.

Text by Raluca Baciu