For a guy who has had such a spectacular rise to musical prominence, Nicolas Jaar’s choice of the Barbican as the venue for a one off gig last weekend should perhaps not be too surprising. In many ways the concert hall is perfectly suited to Jaar’s delicate, jazz-infused melodies and masterful productions. Indeed, the Barbican is no stranger to hosting musicians strongly rooted in the electronic music sphere; the night before had seen Pantha du Prince grace the stage. I was expecting an evening of Jaar’s more laid-back music, hopefully with some guest musicians to fill the acoustic slots from Space is only Noise. For these regions, along with the promise of a trippy accompanying light show, I was hyped.

The night kicked off with support act, Evian Christ, weaving the audience through shifting clouds of ambient electronica. The visuals, projected onto a huge screen along the stage, added the perfect ocular accompaniment, entrancing much of the crowd. Unfortunately, after a while the audience began to get somewhat restless, presumably due to the lack of any beat to focus the mind. Their prayers may have been answered in emphatic style when, halfway through his set, Evian Christ began laying the jungle and rap samples on thick. For me, the whole thing was slightly too long, with the aggressive drum and bass samples becoming jarring towards the end.

After the interval, Jaar took to the stage and the performance was kicked off by a young girl sporadically saying “mama”. After the slightly bizarre opening, she was whisked off and Jaar began.

The first half of his performance was a mixture of songs from Space is Only Noise and other pieces that are presumably unreleased. Jaar manoeuvred between his laptop, keyboard, microphone and, extremely briefly, a grand piano. Half-way through, the young girl returned to the stage with three others to lend their vocal talents. This was one of the highlights of the show, and it was a shame that more musicians weren’t present to add an extra dimension to the performance. The second part of Jaar’s performance involved the guitarist and other half of the Darkside project, Dave Harrington. Together the two create music very much in line with Jaar’s other productions, however Harrington’s effects-laden guitar work definitely adds something new. The duo played a few tracks from their recently released record, Psychic.

Throughout the show a team of visual artists worked behind the screen, projecting analogue visual delights. Different effects, such as projections of mixing coloured oils with water, were layered upon one another creating an authentically analogue and unique visual experience. This was good, as watching a man play with his laptop and fiddle with a keyboard isn’t particularly entrancing.

By the encore people had been teased enough and (myself included) wanted to dance. Gradually the crowd stood up and danced as well they could between rows of seats and to one of Jaar’s less danceable numbers. Just as the crowd were really getting into it and anticipation was growing for a finale that would transform the Barbican into a club, the performance ended. Disappointment was fairly tangible.

And this was my problem with the concert; Jaar neither performed his more delicate work at its’ expansive best with live instruments; nor did he whip the crowd up enough to turn the Barbican into a dance floor. Instead, I was sat in some middle ground, with my leg frantically tapping the beat and wondering how good it could have been had Nicolas Jaar stuck to one or the other.