Live Report: Salamanda – Kings Place, London

It’s one of those nights in London when it feels like it’s never going to stop raining. Those on the way to the gig squelch puddles over the plush marble floors of Kings Place. This isn’t necessarily where you would envision seeing Salamanda for the first time. Their music feels more suited to being discovered in a cave, echoing amongst distant droplets and oil lamps. As we’re in the city, that seems a little unrealistic.

The South Korean duo have touched down for their live debut here thanks to Sound Unwrapped, a year-long celebration of “pioneering artists and composers – past and present – who play with sound and space”. Salamanda certainly fit that brief, specialising in downtempo and ambient gems which glide into unexpected territory. Sampling Ringo, their pet cat, for last year’s ‘Mad Cat Party’ shouldn’t work but, like all of their recorded output, the duo makes it feel subtle somehow. Sound Unwrapped have curated some exceptional lineups for the programme, but you suspect few will top tonight.

It helps that Ola Szmidt sets the tone so perfectly. Hunched over her set-up on a beanbag, being at eye level only enhances the absorbing quality of her music. If at first the looped beats that form the foundation of each track appear unremarkable, it’s only so her voice, the crucial instrument in her arsenal, can reveal several gorgeous layers. She runs her vocals through the machine before her, experimenting with pitch and texture, unpicking the abrasiveness of the electronics to create something sparse and stunning that’s indebted to Björk and, by her own admission, This Mortal Coil.

When Salamanda step up, the duo are framed by four LED strips, which coalesce between aqua green, vibrant orange and light purple. It’s testament to the audience’s immersion that later, when one strip threatens to fall to the ground, nobody even flinches. Everyone’s simply too engrossed.

With a growing back catalogue to pull from, their set leans heavily towards 2022’s ‘ashbalkum’, although the aforementioned ‘Mad Cat Party’ is sadly absent. It does mean we get the icy ‘Overdose’ and the gentle bubble of ‘Melting Hazard’, which ooze into each other elegantly. Like on record, it’s easy to enter a dream-like state as you listen to Salamanda; calmly floating under the surface of their sounds and only surfacing when their beatless vistas are punctuated by percussion or warped snippets. And it does come in the form of ‘Catching Tails’, with its chopped vocals and stuttering keys feeling punchier live and dispelling any idea that this is electronic music made for passive listening.

Revitalised, everyone steps back outside into the continuing downpour. No matter. Salamanda have cleansed us in a way the rainwater never could.

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Words: Lee Wakefield