Scene Report: Synth Library 10th Anniversary at Process – 7.9.26

Synth Library 10th Anniversary Party

Venue: Process PDX

Date: July 9th, 2026

This is a bit of delayed scene report, but what can you do about a spiritually heavy summer? Not a lot. I thought about scrapping it altogether, then looked back through my notes and realized there was too much there to let it rot in the margins. The music was phenomenal, and that (at the very least) deserves an additional record, even if that record is brief and coming in with some slight dust on the cover. Also there were some amazing photos taken by Leif Sjoquist. I’ve included them in this scene report – they really captured the night.

First let’s talk about what this show was about: the Synth Library’s 10th Anniversary. The org began in May 2016 inside S1 in Portland’s Hollywood neighborhood, carrying this quirky distinction of being the world’s first synthesizer library. Since then, it has moved through NE Sandy, a pandemic shutdown, the 4ms Company office, a few miscellaneous spaces, the Lloyd Center (RIP), and now a new Central Eastside space near the Burnside Bridge. The premise has stayed beautifully practical: put electronic music tools into people’s hands. The Synth Library’s lending program circulates synthesizers, pedals, drum machines, video gear, and other expensive little portals that can otherwise feel locked behind money and intimidating self defeat. More than 250 items are in constant rotation, with over 4,400 loans completed since 2021, and sliding-scale memberships are a huge plus. We love the Synth Library and this is the perfect setting to celebrate.

I’m drinking red Powerade this evening. The most evil of all the Powerades. Baseck, who was setting up their t-shirts to the left of my booth, saw my elixir and put out one of those handy silver cups they have at Process in front of me. I poured them a swig of that red elixir, and before they could finish it, I asked what kind of set they were playing that night.

“A CRAZY ONE. It’s gonna be one of those ‘Let me see that booty bounce sets.'”

Baseck

Eric Schlappi is up first. The last time I saw him play a show was at the Six Below Midnight sometime last year. His set then was very stimulating; I’m using that word intentionally to describe that music. It activated my brain without frying my wiring. I was not overstimulated. This set though? Very different and extremely satisfying in a much different capacity. Their stuff is always so precise and thoughtful and you can hear someone who knows the behavior of their instruments on the molecular level. And even though his head is down and he’s concentrating, you know he’s with you. There’s also that thing you carry into certain shows: the sonic itch. The one you can’t quite name until somebody finds the exact frequency and puts a finger on it. Schlappi scratches that itch. His last album Whalespace is also definitely worth checking out.

There are some blissfully unaware 20-somethings who just cut the entire line at the bar. You know that feeling when someone drifts up to a place with the soft confidence of a golden retriever, somehow forgetting that other people exist on the same planet? Well maybe you know that person or not, but every over-30 neurodivergent standing in that line saw exactly what happened, and nobody quite knew what to do with that information. A line ten people deep simply absorbed the violation to avoid the possibility of a – DUNDUNDUN – awkward social interaction. Fascinating. I wonder if th- … WAIT someone finally stepped in and pointed to the sea of humanity behind the 20somethings – all is well with the world. Schlappi’s set was a perfect backdrop for that little episode.

Wet Mango! I had to hop on the dance floor for this shit. The set opened with this soliloquy-like melodic incantation coming through the speakers – something I can only describe as the singing voice of a half-cat, half-human child who enjoys coo’ing and howling into the twilight. Beautifully creepy way to start the set. But once the twilight fully set into darkness, a fire arose from the electronics on the table. Warm, pixelated, and strange in that old-world way (not European old-world; definitely another timeline), like somebody had built a 32X fire pit in the middle of Process and invited all the goblins in the land to stand close and get warm. I don’t see many goblins, but Wet Mango would be ready if they ever showed up. Wet Mango has a way of making electronic music feel both playful and magically frightening, which is exactly why I needed to be on the floor for it. I felt my shoulders drop about halfway through the set, which is usually my sign that the music has bypassed the committee in my head and started talking directly to my slouching spine. Beautiful goblin-gremlin business. Just what I wanted.

Sort of related: everyone is at Mutant Fest. In between sets, I googled it and apparently the first google suggestion that pops up when you type “Mutant F” is “Mutant Football League.” I find this hilarious for some reason.

Baseck! Booty core, goblin core & so much more. It’s dangerous to let yourself go like this, but FUCK. This set has just about everything you could want and I am definitely not going to try and describe it in any major detail because honestly you just had to be there. At one point, Wet Mango came off the dance floor back into the little bar area and said, slightly out of breath, “It’s too hot in there.” About four seconds later the fattest beats of the night dropped and the propellor up Wet Mango’s ass motored it’s last mote and they vanished into the fake smoke, straight back to the dance floor, which already had almost no room left for another body. I’m sitting in a booth directly next to the wall where Baseck’s table is set up and all of a sudden the fucking BASS hits. I look to my right and catch eyes with Enzo Caselnova and tell him that the gold filling inside my mouth is VIBRATING. What the fuck this is rattling my SOUL. It had that overloaded, too-hot, all-systems-failing quality. Then Baseck got on the mic.

“You got time for one more? Got time for two more?”

Pause.

“Okay one more.”

Wet Mango is now standing next to Baseck. Oh gee, I wonder what’s going to happen here? Of course Sonic Death Rabbit was going to close the set. As I sat there listening to Wet Mango’s evil laugh, my nose hairs (who I never knew were going to be involved in my music journalism) joined my gold tooth in the vibration death party. Such a great ending to a wonderful set.

Golden Donna‘s set was the final one of the night and I feel very sheltered for not listening to Joel’s new album. I’ve had chances to sit with it, but summer in Portland has been chewing time into strange shapes. Days disappear and melt into weeks like a wax mass. I saw Golden Donna earlier in the evening before the show started and we gave each other one of those old man handshakes. Honestly, this set was such a nice closing set to reset my cortisol levels – a way to bring the body back down without flattening the night’s strange charge. Joel’s work is always so fucking good because he understands tone and a lot of his stuff just washes over me in the most refreshing manner possible. It also helps that I imagine Joel at home earlier in the afternoon with Mister Socks over his shoulder or maybe by his side overseeing what needs to be in his set. I’m going to sit with that feeling for a while.

I wish I could write a closing paragraph but I’m like a bike: two-tired. What a great night to go out and dance. Support your local synth library, kids.