Monday, 31 August 2020

Electronic: From Kraftwerk to the Chemical Brothers | 30/08/20

It feels fantastic to say that this week I'm going to talk about something I actually went to. In person, like, I was there... It was a thing. It may not be a gig yet, or a club night, but I finally got round to going to the Design Museum's exhibition on electronic music. I have plenty to say on it all, in terms of what was there to absorb from an educational perspective, what was cool to look and and what really made you feel something. Above all else, it was great to see electronic music being heralded as an intrinsic part of our culture even when many of the settings it is representative of are currently out of bounds. If you are able to, you should definitely go for yourself, and hopefully what I have to say below can help sell it to you.



I can't begin to cover everything there is to offer, but will still go through my highlights in the order they are displayed in to give an over-arching sense of the experience. After a couple of giant prints of raves, the first large focus piece is a timeline detailing critical developments in the culture of electronic music, starting with early instruments such as the Theremin garnering attention, bringing us all the way to the question of how AI may influence composition in the near future. It always feels good to kick off with a run through of history to get you into the mindset, and while the array of antique hardware on display, exciting for musicians, is to be expected, the screens along the way with multimedia really enhance the experience. You stick your headphones in and become totally absorbed in that point on the timeline for just a few minutes, cementing it in your mind. Particularly striking was a clip of Jeff Mills improvising on a TR-909 drum machine; it absolutely blew my mind, I'll link it here. When presenting such a huge chunk of information, it's important to develop it beyond the dates and numbers; seeing a performance like this drives home to you why these moments in music were so influential, how at that time these incredible examples of innovation were the new things captivating everyone's attention.

Next, a couple of minor pieces including a shoutout to the wonderful illustrations from Detroit Techno artwork stuck in my memory, as well as a text piece posing the question, 'can a sound without words say something?', then we enter an area focused on the work of some individual musicians. One wall is covered in Aphex Twin artwork (and his recent video work from Weirdcore), an artist who can't be ignored in his continued status within the scene up to this very day. To the left, a screen plays a rotation of iconic live performances, one of which is Bicep's 2018 show at Printworks. It's the first event mentioned that I actually attended so far, and seeing it back helps me to feel more a part of everything around me. That's one thing I think the exhibition does very well; an important part of celebrating music is capturing the great sense of nostalgia we all have towards certain songs and nights in our lives, and the Design Museum made sure that this would be the case across all generations who have contributed to the culture. The key installation here, however, was a section dedicated entirely to a 3D performance from Kraftwerk. Especially with Florian Schneider's passing recently, the respect paid to the group here is great to see, but I can't help feeling that the experience was somewhat disappointing. The 3D aspect felt entirely pointless and with it just being a few camera angle changes on their regular live setup, it didn't even really work particularly well. As we'll come to see later on, they were more than capable of enhancing the live atmosphere in some way, and so this ended up feeling somewhat forgettable.


After this point, the exhibition begins to feel less linear. We've begun to laud the incredible thing that is live music, and so we're taken through the development of rave and dance, both in and outside the club and across the world. Two little coves are treated like info booths, to New York's club scene and Chicago DJ City respectively. I have to give a special mention to the prior option here, as Tina Paul's collection of photographs capturing the essence of those that made up the scene are sensitive and evocative, a window into just one club culture scene dance music has given the world. 1024 Architecture's 'Walking Cube' also gives its little performance here, although being right in the middle of an open room, the clanging of metal shafts smashing together breaks your focus from other pieces and so the impression the sculpture ended up leaving behind for me was a bit of a negative one.


We then pass along a corridor of graphic design development, live performance and visuals, and a taste of the endless array of imagery we choose to represent music. The more you take in, the more you realise how far beyond audio this art form extends, how everything you see is part of what electronic music is today. Potently, the corridor ends with a text piece on vinyl as a sacred object. 'The Vinyl album's round shape and sometimes legendary covers have an emblematic power that fascinates artists.' This is just one point in how vinyl has survived today despite technological advancements disposing of the 'need' for it. The fundamental truth is that the culture surrounding music is just as intrinsic to what it is as the other way around. The sounds we make are brilliant to us within the context of how we make them. There is a world to present, and the music is but the voice that tells its story. This is why we continue to use those same drum machines and synthesisers that have become symbolic in sound of the decades that have flown by. We've created a language, and old words carry ever more meaning. What's more, this concept is represented through visuals also. Artwork continues to build on what's come before, referencing the past while creating a future. This comes into music video, as with their inclusion of Joe Wilson's fantastic video for Bicep's 'Glue', which with only a handful of landscape shots around the M25 and quotes from 90's rave veterans can make your hair stand on end every time. Incredibly poignant, as Bicep head a mainstream for modern day ravers, never forgetting the roots their sound has come from.


Now comes the absolute highlight. While the Walking Cube was more of a distraction, 1024 Architecture also created a light installation specifically for this exhibition - CORE; a cube of diagonal, luminous stems, reacting with complex responses in live time to a cluster of playlists curated by a pioneer of French House, Laurent Garnier. I honestly could have sat in there for hours, it was the closest the exhibition came to emulating the myriad of euphoric feelings that raving can bring you. A few seconds after I'd settled in, Moderat's 'A New Error' pulled in. The antithesis between the delicate drifting glows during the intro and the stark, harsh movements once the bass kicks in was mesmerising. The question posed earlier - 'Can a sound without words say something?' - is answered here - absolutely. For every song I sat through, a story was painted with neon light just as unique as the last. It gave me a glimpse into the potential innovation in live visuals there could be for electronic music. Light shows can be impressive, but this complex dynamic, conversation almost, between visual and audio, akin to Four Tet's Squidsoup show, pulls you in so much deeper.


Following this was always going to be difficult, but the remainder did have some noteworthy elements. Jeremy Deller's 'A History Of The World' covered one wall, and the association between concealed identity and electronic music, something I think is of particular importance throughout the culture, is represented. The frequent appearance of robots, Daft Punk's helmets, use of masks, and Burial's 'Untrue' were all mentioned, the latter's brilliance being somewhat embedded within the producer's anonymity. The hedonistic freedom of Berlin brought some LGBTQ representation to light, although if anything this made me think it had just been squeezed in at the end for quota. A lack of real emphasis on how Black culture has influenced electronic music from its conception was evident also; other than the occasional mention it was mostly absent. What's more, with The Chemical Brothers celebrated in the final, strobe heavy experience, they join Kraftwerk, Aphex Twin and Laurent Garnier, a list of white men with the major installations dedicated to them. I can't help but be  a little disappointed by that.

So, there's a brief summary! Overall the exhibition was fantastic and worth going for yourself, I'm going to go again at least once before it ends. I think I'll give a link to Laurent Garnier's playlists here instead of doing my own this week, can hardly outdo him! I also made a couple of new tunes in the last couple weeks which I thought it would be nice to share, my SoundCloud is linked here. Have a great week everyone. xx

Saturday, 8 August 2020

the sun is shining the music is PLAYING | 07/08/20

Hello all of you! I'm choosing the hottest day of the year in London to get round to writing this, probably because I don't have the willpower to do anything but flutter my fingers over a keyboard. I'm finding less and less time to write bits these days, and obviously less events to write about, which is sad. But I will always keep this up in some form; I've been learning to produce my own tracks recently and as results get better, potentially I'll start including some production breakdowns of interesting bits I've done during the process on here, if that sounds cool. Anyway, today I want to do some old school 'let's talk about the music' analysis so have taken a handful of tracks to talk about. As usual, let's look at a male vocal, female vocal, upbeat electronic, ambient, but can't resist two wildcards this time. Sit tight, get your iced coffee ready and let's go... 

#1 - I Wonder Why - Joesef, Loyle Carner

The endless stream of the on-beat tipper-tapper on the hihat underplays the dulcet tones of Joesef and Loyle Carner's classic flow. While the latter's verse is briefer than feels fitting, both bring a cool serenity to the track. Backing vocal 'ooo's and bulging strings merge and split to provide a lush bed for the leads and the guitar provides some countermelody, particularly in the spoken verse. It feels very 'smoke over a burnt orange sunset' throughout, with the soundscape settled very firmly into evening chill-out. It's the first collaboration I've heard from Glasgow's Joesef so far, and does go down very well, although I can imagine more exciting combinations in the future.

#2 - A Mirror - Kllo

Kllo's new album 'Maybe We Could' dropped a couple weeks ago, providing us all with a reflective peace to bounce against our eardrums. This track in particular actually sounds like your reflection in a lake, the beat ripples that wobble across it. The vocals in the first minute are spread across the stereo field and at different octaves, building up slowly on top of each other, giving the sense of whispering and chattering around your head. As we continue, the vocal samples continue to build in and out of each other, and the drop at 01:23 lends interest but doesn't break the peace. The plucked harp-like instrument coming in after the third minute broadens the stylistic influence on the tune, setting us up for one more drop and keeping the pace up. A lovely little number, but really do take the time to listen to the whole album for further context.

#3 - SYL - salute

If I had to describe salute's sound, I'd say it's the authenticity of UK garage injected with whatever's in Super Mario's mushrooms. Elements feel old school, yet there's something almost hyperreal in the brightness of sounds chosen. SYL is a case study into this, with the rising melodic motifs reaching into the heavens and pitched up vocals even more celestial. The EP also features 'Glamour Loop' and a version of this in reverse with the drums rearranged. It's fascinating how great they both sound, but particularly with the reverse version how intended it sounds. Not even sure which one is my favourite, although SYL makes the list for me as I haven't been able to get that 8-note melody that unites the core concept out of my head. Big fan of the album art also; the beams of bright light leaking into the landscape uncontrollably feels like a great reflection of the sound itself.

#4 Pius in Tacet - Pantha Du Prince

Pantha Du Prince, aka Hendrik Weber, is a german composer, producer and conceptual artist, and that's exactly what this track feels like; art. The brooding rhythms of the metallophone keep the trance of the track continuous as the beat brings us between moments of tension and release. Percussion from around the world is reminiscent of Bonobo's style, and the snare from about 03:30 breathes some fresh air into the story. I find the cello to be one of the most wonderful, earthy and emotive instruments in the world, and to have it used here for the bassline allows Weber to ground what otherwise feels like a very ethereal atmosphere. It's enjoyable to hear regardless, but its solemnity really brings something special when listening in solitary contemplation.

#5 - Ur2yung - Machinedrum

Machinedrum is back with an album releasing on Ninja Tune! Can't say I'm not excited. This one was an instant first-listen banger for me. The way low and high pass filters are used constantly throughout just makes you feel so gassed when the unfiltered hook comes back in every single time. It's an example of how a track that remains rhythmically the same for very long periods can avoid ear fatigue. The enormously stretched out section from 2:13 is particularly unexpected, but incredibly satisfying to allow your mind to sink into after the groove so far. It just feels very new and exciting from the North Carolinian native, and I can't wait to hear what else he has up his sleeve.

#6 - Up Inna - Cadenza, M.I.A., GuiltyBeatz

To be honest, this is the first track I've heard M.I.A. on that I've loved in a long while, and that alone has had me obsessed. Everything about it feels rapid and frantic, bringing you into the frenzy right from the get go. Just as you think there are moments of repose, the next line of agitation begins to build in. I love the occasional moment of unique movement in the bassline, and various sounds that are stylistic of South Asian music are blended in to add that flavour without feeling cheesy or try-hard. Something about the way words seem to permeate the entire track but without ever carrying the meaning in the song fascinates me. It's almost addictive, and bonus points for being a great one to run to. 

So, that should do it for this post. I'm going to try and make it to the electronic music exhibition at the Design Museum in the next few weeks, so hopefully next time I sit down to write it's about an event, for the first time in a long time! Really enjoying the playlist I've put together this week, which you can listen to here. Enjoy the rest of the heatwave weekend everyone! xx