By: Kai Teo
Photos and video: César Ortiz
Event: Wall of Sound – Kontrapunkt, Västanforsgatan 21
Date: Saturday, 20 April ‘13
DJs: Lotus Dub Sound, Deng Deng Hifi + Lancy Rankin, Sub Encounterz Soundsystems + Zoro, Makks, Vejbi Dolores, Tellus Sound
Genre: Dub, roots and bass
Entry: 50 kr
Our rating: 4.5/5
Ancient Chinese emperors built the Great Wall to protect their dynasties from invading armies. Malmö uses the Wall of Sound to defend our sound minds and bodies against fascist pigs.
Kontrapunkt, as the name suggests, runs contrary to the mainstream culture of posh bars, chandeliers and all that fancy shit. It’s an association that started out with promoting accommodation democracy in the Möllevången district.
And today, they’ve evolved into a community hub for cultural, arts and music initiatives. To us party animals, their evolution serves to feed our insatiable thirst for deeper bass, crazier crowds, and louder sounds.
Precariously perched in an obscure corner of Malmö’s industrial area, Kontrapunkt’s headquarters is an understated, dilapidated building with stained walls and cracked floors. The only clue that something insane is going on inside is the leaked vibrations from the speakers, and the queue.
No club in Malmö can claim a more impressive queue than Kontrapunkt. Enthusiasts sometimes wait up to an hour or more trying to get in and let themselves loose. Not because they’re slow, but because it’s just so damn fucking popular. During the winter, it’s really not so fun standing in a Swedish blizzard, smoking cigarette after cigarette with ice cubes smashing against your forehead.
But when the weather is sweet, the party begins the moment you stand in line.
This time, however, we were lucky enough to arrive early and beat the crowd. Entry was smooth (no sexual connotation here) and swift. And we wasted no time in running wild towards… WHAT. THE. FUCK. IS. THAT.
There it was. The legend they’ve all talked about. The impossible made possible. The magnificent Wall of Sound. Towering above the dance floor, it stood looking fucking angry, furious and incredibly mind-blowing. Speakers the size of obese oil wrestlers piled up against one another, blaring out beats so hard it felt like our sanity was brawling the Poseidon of bass.
Yes, I know we’ve described something similar in our drum & bass post a few weeks ago. But that was just one “mother of all speakers”. This time, there were three. Three mothers. You figure it out.
It took us some time before we could get back our composure and head to the bar. Karma Kapital is what they use here. It’s a nicer name for drink coupons. And drink coupons are evil. You always buy too many of these.
But anyway, we didn’t mingle much, nor talk much. We just went berserk amongst the drunken mess of denim-clad activists, lost-in-their-own-world artists, musicians on their day off, and university students studying human rights. It’s the crowd you get at an anti-racism protest, except that tonight, we were protesting against sleep.
As we broke into uncontrollable spasms from the unrestrained bass, everything became more and more blurry and somehow, someone else’s tongue ended up in my mouth. Dancing became difficult as the music faded into the back of our heads. This is the part of the evening when a neck is tastier than the beer in my hand. But let’s stick to reviewing the party.
Erm. Wait. The party had already ended. Lights came on and our sweaty bodies stumbled out into the cool, spring morning, with the first golden rays of the sun illuminating our long walk home.
Then from my pocket, I fished out a few pieces of… Fuck, unused drink coupons.