The one-man band from the future, McRorie, is still going, it seems. Unbeknownst to us, the artist – real name, Stuart McRorie Tait – revealed a new live electronic show reel at the beginning of the year. See top: he’s still tapping his shoes for drums and beating his chest for toms, but he’s swapped out Starr Labs for his original, more conventional keyboards. The kilts are gone, sadly, but there’s an acid-distorted VJ mix in the background. And if the mood is right, lightning bolts apparently shoot from his crotch.
MIDI keyboards strapped to the body have perhaps become commonplace. (Well, not cool, exactly, but at least — known.) But here’s the extraordinary thing. You might be road-tripping across America, somewhere in Arkansas, maybe. You find yourself in a tiny, dive redneck bar with a couple locals, a trucker or two. And then it happens: McRorie is in front of you, growling about his love of booty in the corner by the jukebox, a nervous woman trying to sneak by unnoticed to the toilets. Is this real? Did someone slip something into the Bud Light tap? Will your friends believe you? You fish for the iPhone in your pocket, but there are only some damp singles.
How did it come to this?
Or, in case you can’t wait for that serendipity, there’s also his YouTube channel, where he rails against corporate capitalism, drives up in a truck to celebrate a “just say yes” approach to recreational drugs, and sings a rather sweet ballad to internal faith that reveals his singing voice.
McRorie in earlier form, back when he was booked on late night TV – though, years on, McRorie is remembered. These TV shows are forgotten.
He will always be, now and forever, the one-man band from the future. And that future is now.
Thank you, Melissa Ulto.
Print out the posters on your wall, and you are a true music tech superfan. (I suggest a fresh ImageWriter II.)
I miss Music thing – just because Tom has gone onto productive stuff like having a real job and making actual hardware, and can’t track developments like this in a 24/7 cycle.