A Fever Dream of Beats, Beyblades and Brilliance

Kieran Hebden is a fascinating creature.

The ego-less, unassuming 48-year-old English producer and DJ is very much a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Speaking on Tiga’s First/Last Party on Earth podcast in 2020 he said two things that really stayed with me.

The first was his approach to playing festivals. I’ll paraphrase: “I want to blow everyone else off stage.”

Yes, Four Tet. Wonderfully refreshing.

He told The Guardian a similar thing in 2023: “DJing is really addictive. I like the competitiveness.”

The second titbit he shared on Tiga’s podcast pertained to his career trajectory and a change in priorities since having a daughter about 15 years ago. The story goes: “In 2010, I was emailed by a label distributor in a foreign territory.” A tune of his was blowing up and the distributor was asking for fresh vinyl.

“And I said ‘But then I’d have to email with you. Let’s not bother.’ And the guy was like ‘What are you talking about? You don’t wanna sell more records!?’…I don’t care about selling more records. Time is everything at this point, it’s all about doing things that are quality.”

It worked. Quality has led to quantity. Four Tet’s stocks are abundant right now.

“Everything has gone so well for me since I started doing things more efficiently.”

He’s been on some kind of run for the last three years: Times Square, Madison Square Garden and Coachella (aided and abetted by Fred again… and Skrillex) and is on a heater with releases/remixes: Baby Again collab/remix (which opened his Golden Plains 2023 set), Into Dust (Still Falling) which samples Mazzy Star, Chris Lake’s In The Uma and of course his own 140bpm monster Looking At Your Pager (which will feature later in the piece, eager reader).

And so here we are.

Four Tet is effectively headlining his own festival in Melbourne/Naarm via astute local operators Crown Ruler and Bizarro. A cool 95 percent of tickets are sold (that’s just over 10,000 people) and they’ve aced the weather, 20 degrees with wild winds dying down.

“Can we have a drink at my favourite wine bar in a shopping mall please?” texts my plus one. But of course.

We hit a Pet Nat at Cathedral Coffee then catch a free tram down St Kilda Rd. I conceal a Pure Origin vodka (yes I am available for brand collab) hip flask then we collect our tickets from box office and BOOM we’re in.

Walking into the illustrious, leafy venue early to catch Sydney-bred Jono Ma the first person I spot is Four Tet. He’s standing side stage with a takeaway coffee and his tote bag, looking like a Readings employee who’s been gifted a AAA pass.

Jono Ma is playing to the weather and the 4pm timeslot, teasing out ambient, pensive sounds as gusts buffet hair around so half of us look like Cameron Diaz in There’s Something About Mary.

Ma may well be on his own Four Tet-esque journey.

Like his Putney pal who emerged from the post-rock scene in the ‘90s, Ma had success with lumbering, psychedelic dance group Jagwar Ma, playing to 25,000 at Glastonbury and becoming fast friends with kindred musical spirit Andrew Weatherall (RIP).

Wearing an ACID cap and KLF t-shirt, Ma shows remarkable restraint to hold back the beat until the 70 (!) minute mark of his 105-minute set then WHOMPS into action. Everything clicks into place.
The sun shines a bit brighter, the wind dies off, I glance around at the small but swelling crowd and strangers and friends give me the same look: “We’re on here.” I DM Jono Ma the next day asking if he recorded the set to which he responds: “I’m going to edit it and some other ambient shows I’ve done, into an album…I think.” Can I print that?

“Sure! Means I have some sort of commitment to see it through lol.”

Next up is Stable Music local Yarra. She exudes a steely cool, pushing the bpms steadily with some jacking house and a nice level of acid-flecked boompity-boompity. The crowd are on board with some mild hip-lashing. There’s a reason she’s been booked for a third Let Them Eat Cake in a row.
Get around Yarra.

A friend of mine in good spirits leans in and says: “I’d get a tattoo of you on my dick.”

I’m gonna take that as a comment.

We cruise past the Taco Station for a fuel up and they’re playing some ridiculously hard, ridiculously good, ridiculously European dance music (Dikke Beat – Pegassi) from a robust orange JBL. The wind keeps chopping up the signal and I remember this isn’t an actual stage so I swig my contraband beverage, high-five someone wearing a colourful NBA singlet and beeline to Skee Mask.

He’s pumping out drum house, IDM-adjacent goodness, sub bass and breakbeats. It’s seat-of-the-pants stuff, the hot-to-trot jock is steering clear of the sync button and it makes for a better, more dramatic set.

I totally (read: finally) get what all the fuss is about with 32-year-old German producer/DJ Bryan Muller.

This guy has got it.

The whole thing is deeply thrilling. My Shazam responds sternly to incessant screen-jabs: “EXPANDING SEARCH. HANG TIGHT.” OK diva. Skee Mask chain-smokes durries in a faded grey Roland t-shirt while keeping the beat in time then drops Submerge by Fadi Mohem. Mayhem ensues.
We get deeper into the “pit” where everyone is throwing respectful elbows and smiling wickedly as rays of sun EQ visages left and right.

It’s time for the “up periscope” trick to draw friends over to us (expanding search, hold tight) and our crew of four quickly become eight (take that, Shazam). Even a fussy mate agrees: “OK this is getting really good now.”

We exit stage left and DJ JNETT is doing what JNETT does, beaming ear to ear, reading the room like a pro and slamming out house music that still allows enough sonic experimentation for the imminent appearance of Floating Points.

Sam Shepherd takes the stage with a boyish grin and keen-to-get-on-with-it energy. It’s the Australian premiere of his collaboration with artist Akiko Nakayama and Hamill Industries, titled Cascade. People use the superlative term “eye candy” when something is aesthetically pleasing but this is more five-course meal than a quick, sweet fix.

Sam, ahem, shepherds the congregation into one with ambient motifs, a swaying mass of floppy arms and half-closed eyes. We take in the pink, purple and blue swirls of paint filling the screen and literally everyone is frothing it.

He then sheepdogs us into one heaving throng with Birth4000, one of his most straight-forward club tracks and a tune that sounds more vital and less (don’t @ me) “plodding” when deployed live.
He keeps the pace up with Del Oro, Key103 and the extraordinary upside-down-right-way-up 135bpm masterpiece Vocoder.

I see punters reaching for the skies and their keys in equal measure. A friend walks past and after a quick chat her partner points to her stomach….they’re pregnant! We make the requisite amount of “baby bump at a festival” gags and continue on our way.

OK. Deep breaths. It’s showtime.

Cometh the hour, cometh the man.

Four Tet lopes onto stage with little fanfare and gets straight to work.

As headliner he is expected to quote unquote blow everyone off the stage but you get the feeling he will do it in the most respectful way; Floating Points and Jono Ma are his current clique (Fred again.. and Skrillex = sooo 2023).

Hebden conjures a low-key, calm-before-the-storm atmosphere with driving house and intricate tekky rhythms before going for the jugular with the Nelly Furtado-sampling Only Human. He gives us that possum-eyed glint that says “I’ve got ‘em good”, plays his remix of PAX by DJ ADHD and Chloe Robinson then I recognise another cracker: Tony Romera’s jacking 2009 (Extended remix). A mate turns to me “He’s laying Leave a Trace !” Another quips “It’s a DISCO BOWL!” as the whole place goes nuts to the dappled lights kissing our foreheads. Good shout.

There is some garbled discussion over whether Four Tet will play Looking At Your Pager and, right on cue, Hebden teases said tune for a good five minutes then lets it run in full.

It is an emotionally satisfying end to a spiritually nourishing day.

Fun fact: Hebden has said Looking At Your Pager was started and pretty much finished in 15 minutes while lying in bed. “That’s nearly as long as he played it out tonight!” a mate retorts.

One more reflection from Hebden: “I wanted to make something that everyone understands straight away and it feels like you’ve heard it before but you’ve never heard it and you’re loving it.”

It’s time to file out of the ‘Bowl and head to Angel Bar while others peel off to various after parties.
Someone on Reddit has commented: “My friend who did tabs for Floating Points said it was life-changing.”

A friend texts a screenshot of her 31,729 step count.

Another mate reports “There was a Beyblade Stadium battle near the foodtrucks after Four Tet finished with the crowd shouting ‘3, 2, 1, let it rip!’ as the Beyblade burst.” Hebden would dig the competitive atmosphere.

That’s freeform crowd work at its finest, made possible by a headliner who can’t stop winning and quietly, confidently grinning.

Four Tet?

Five stars.