Rival Consoles @ Here at Outernet, London (Live Review)

Rival Consoles

Here at Outernet

Words & Pics by Captain Stavros

A Lurching, Luminous Descent into Sub-Bass Serenity

They say competition is the mother of all invention. At Here at Outernet on Thursday night, there was certainly competition, for elbow room mainly, but invention was left to the man behind the synths. Rival Consoles, the electronic moniker of Ryan Lee West, turned a packed crowd into a mesmerised mass, uniting heads in rhythmic sway and hearts in analog tension.

It was our first outing to the venue, which lies deep in the sensory-overloaded underbelly of Oxford Street; all LED vertigo and neon sensory assault at the entrance. Inside, it’s a different story. Blacked out, multi-tiered, and faintly futuristic, the space feels somewhere between a Bond villain’s lair and a Nordic techno temple. It’s already jostling for bronze on our local venue podium, just behind The Social and the 100 Club.

Opener Forest Swords, offering a slow bleed of ambient haze, drifted in like a prelude to something far more kinetic. Though texturally intriguing, it felt less like live performance and more like the audio equivalent of descending gently into a K-hole. The crowd bobbed, but there was a certain listlessness in the air, waiting.

Then, without much warning, aside from a cheer that hinted the true contest was about to begin, Rival Consoles emerged. A mop of hair flailing gently behind the synth racks, West looked every bit the dark maestro. His setup resembled an IKEA shelving unit mid-meltdown, cables like tangled serpents spilling from its guts. And from that nest came the noise.

What followed was not so much a setlist as a sculpted journey. Sound carved into crescendo, texture, and restraint. Opening with an electronic harpsichord motif, the night slowly unspooled into layers of rich synth, shadowy bass and feverish modulation. Each movement felt precise, almost architectural. A Jekyll and Hyde of sound; calm one moment, seething the next, kept the room taut with anticipation.

The visuals, fogged, flickering and more than a little phantasmagoric, suggested either the inside of a rotting firework or a ride through a decomposing circulatory system. Maybe both. Either way, not one for the photosensitive.

By the halfway point, there was a brief moment to breathe, a short intermission that primed the room for what was arguably the emotional apex of the set: ‘Catherine’. A track that pulled at something deep and human beneath all the circuitry, it silenced the room in the best way possible. That rare hush you get when electronic music manages to feel completely alive.

Transitions throughout were seamless, the pacing meticulous. Watching West’s right hand flutter anxiously across knobs and keys felt like watching a fever dream being meticulously mapped in real time.

In the end, Rival Consoles didn’t just play a gig. He constructed a low-lit cathedral of oscillating pressure and release. No shouty crowd, no smashed guitars — just a full house bound together by bass, light, and a sense of something quietly profound.