Showing posts with label laurent garnier. Show all posts
Showing posts with label laurent garnier. Show all posts

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