Saturday 22 September 2012

Ekoplekz: Intrusive Incidentalz Vol. 1

Ekoplekz: Intrusive Incidentalz Vol. 1

Nick Edwards has long been on my radar, first as a local proponent of the tape loop and analogue electronics scene name-dropped and referenced by the ageing (no offence meant) 'head' crowd who  made a fetish out of 90s Warp and 70s Industrial abstraction and technique -a group I'm guilty of being a young adherent to; my late teens were spent deliriously vacuuming up old Warp albums while they still retained their playful mystery and searching desperately for concrete links between them and the steadily growing stack of early Industrial (SPK, CV, TG, Clock DVA, Severed Heads et al) I was amassing.

 Abstraction, complexity, non-conformism and a spiteful (if occasionally unintentionally ironic) rejection of pop music and its perceived norms (coherant lyrics, if any, digestible melody, verse-chorus-blah, 'normal' drum/guitar sounds) were my touchstones and criteria for buying or even acknowledging the existence of any music. Therefore, Cabaret Voltaire's Methodology: The Attic Tapes was my bible, an encapsulation of a passion and ideology in uncooked form; no studio-sheen (I still rejected clean music, in spite of Warp's sharp-focus, polygon aesthetic) or pretense, just 3 dudes in someone's loft, a bunch of homemade/scavenged electronic equipment and a feeling. This was my punk rock, my reductionist ideal and idea of purity...you only need an oscillator and, if you were a maximalist, a drum machine of some kind (having a commercial synth was like having a string section by my reckoning).

By this logic, I should love Nick Edwards aka Ekoplekz. Nick is of the generation, with all due respect, for whom the Warp set were present day and the Industrial lads mere recent history. For me, the former was a recently missed boat and the latter ancient history. However, Nick has the advantage of also being well schooled and a firm part of the latest UK Bass Music phase (actually a distant lineage, including Warp et al) which includes Dubstep culture and its offspring/descendants. He's made it plain that his music is intended to marry the UK industrial heritage (70s style) with Bass Culture developments, a worthy and enviable field of research (something I've fewer achievements in), and in terms of presentation -released on Punch Drunk, Bristol's top boy dubstep label, Edwards depicted as mixer-abusing DJ on the cover (albeit with evil fish head) -it's on the mark but, when the needle drops, the marriage seems merely political; strictly separate bedrooms.  

The trouble is, this is a fantastic 70s Industrial record. Really good. Tape loops of astounding quality, virtuoso even, drum sounds that inspire swoons and flashbacks to my pubescent, lights-off bedroom TG revelations, smattered liberally and, dammit, seemingly so effortlessly about these pop-song length incursions. Edwards' synth swoops, oscillations that hang in the air like ectoplasmic vapour trails, have an authenticity that Demdike Stare are both wanting and cripplingly unable to produce. Droney synth stabs, redolent of The Voice of America by CV, give a mean-faced throb to proceedings but, overall, the functionality of the Bass Culture that Edwards has been so embraced by is lacking. I'm not asking for dancefloor material, far from it, but I don't see how these excellent and passionate recordings transcend or depart from the aforementioned Methodology or Rough Trade era CV stuff at all. 

This isn't a criticism, as Edwards and I obviously share an admiration for the Sheffield Sonic cowboys, and I love hearing CV-soundalikes, really. My problem is that I feel that Edwards is abusing a fortunate position. Had I the skill to reproduce, with such loving care, the experiments of the Cabs and do so with the keen ear of the (post)dubstep community at my disposal, I'd feel compelled to draw a strong, black line between the two eras and show how music that sounded and obviously reference CV, was also able to be reconstituted into a modern, even forward looking, piece of UK electronic music. Could I get dubsteppers and grime fiends nodding, skanking, pointing and bobbing to a CV-style track? I'd love to try and, gosh, how wonderful would it be to succeed. 

I admit, this is my personal agenda. I constantly attempt to repay the decade of joy, influence and revelation that Richard H Kirk and Stephen Mallinder have given me with nods, salutes, references and attempts to keep their (obvious to me) relevance and influence alive by recognising and indicating their greasy prints wherever I see them. I don't expect Edwards to do the same and, unfairly, I expected that a fellow CV-head might feel that compulsion. I see now that Ekoplekz is a man revelling in sound, welded to a thrilling aesthetic about which he and I obviously feel very passionate about and, in reality, I should be grateful that he's bringing that sound back to life by releasing period-sounding pieces on a modern, dynamic label and not seeking to compromise the initial qualities with potentially flash-in-the-pan developments.

I'll wearily check out the rest of Nick's stuff, to see how he develops, but otherwise I've heard it all before...thankfully, everyone else hasn't and for them this'll be a great, potentially gateway, experience.

Friday 21 September 2012

Hirsute Pursuit: Tighten That Muscle Ring

Hirsute Pursuit: Tighten That Muscle Ring

Finally, a bit of extremity. Hirsute Pursuit have made me squirm and wince like no other music has since I was a 17 y/o sitting, jaw-dropped, before TG's Very Friendly or perhaps listening to SPK's Leichenscrei for the first time in University.

Industrial music should make you uncomfortable, it should provoke and challenge you. It is, perhaps, the Burroughsian legacy that compels so much Industrial to be uncompromising and stark in its subject matter and its delivery; the cut-up novels (especially Junky) are not only disorientating and impenetrable but, when you do attempt to navigate the jungle of words, it's pretty gross and disquieting (if realistic).

Such things are, no pun intended, hardening. Little offends me or revolts me now. Tighten... doesn't offend though, it just forces me to engage with music in a different way, one my mind isn't used to. We've all heard weird sex stuff in music, or even downright disturbing rape/abuse claims/allusions for shock value (and not just lyrically a la Tyler and Earl), but the slurping, plopping, groaning and grunting of Hirsute's sophomore disc are a new level for me. 

I'm heterosexual but won't shirk or besmirch gay content in culture; it's all culture. However, HP's use of such graphic and immersible bodily and contextual asides (such as a breathless response of "Yessir" make for a compelling atmosphere of sexual intensity)  really bring you in close to gay sex, audibly so. It's not that I'm repulsed by gay sex at all, but that such proximity to a sexual act makes me uncomfortable, shy even, and forces me into a momentary moral dilemma: how should I be feeling? Should I feel bad that I said 'eeew' aloud after a few tracks of relentless, sloppy anal pummeling put to a trip-hop beat? I've not been engaged in this way since the aforementioned Leichenscrei where dead-voiced women discussed sexual abuse at the hands of their carers.

Repulsion isn't the issue. These recordings are so intimate and so unashamedly so that one feels as voyeur but, being heterosexual, a uninvited one. The atmosphere, eventually, solidifies to one of concentrated transgression; this is Industrial, this is the anything goes because there isn't anything else worth going and doing; the sound of freedom and expression. Boyd Rice (featured here on a cover of Boys Keep Swinging) does this elsewhere, he creates an atmosphere of saying what the fuck you want but, rather than obscure it, making you feel as if you've been dropped into a very intense conversation about said subject and might drown for want of context. I feel out of my depth  and yet riveted.

The beats? 90s electronica through a post-industrial lens. Trip-hop, some slimy house and guttural exotica are wrapped up in skittering textures, spittle-flecked flexes of bass and synth but, otherwise, overly percussive and reliant on the chorus of gasps and grunts. Happily, I was expecting tepid DAF-impersonations, but this is a fuck to Gabi and Rob's cheeky tease.

A challenging, deep listen. I'll happily revisit.

Thursday 20 September 2012

Rrose: Artificial Light

Rrose

I don't know a thing about Rrose and I don't want to. These shadowy, slurred, hissing and creeping Industrial-House tracks are great and, moreover, the overall presentation interests me just as much as the sounds. 

Check out that picture from the label, above -it's weird, but not quite creepy enough, a suggestion of some fun is there and although it appears to foretell abandonment and darkness it's also, well, a little cheeky perhaps? I'm reminded of the Robert Rental and Thomas Leer album The Bridge...I bought that on the strength of the grey cover, name of the artists and the title that revealed nothing about its contents. 


Artificial Light plays the same trick. The side featuring our bony friend is superb, Shepard's Brine beginning as a menacingly slow thump, the track progresses into a wall of synth-strobes, drones and nagging, crunchy percussion. As with so much, I'm reminded of the glorious Bourbonese Qualk.

The flip, Waterfall, begins as a calm, atmospheric click n' shuffle fest before a strident kick sets in and allows grizzled synths to saw up and down oblivious to the central pulse. A calmer, is no less intense composition.

I'm resisting finding anything out about Rrose -is it one dude? A girl? Two guys? I don't care. I'm determined to slowly find out, probably avoiding interviews and just picking up the "12s where I can find them.

Vessel

Vessel: Nylon Sunset

I've been really excited to hear local boy Seb Gainsborough after picking up a lot of chatter about town, in clubs, on blogs and mixes. I'd always missed the Young Echo, the collective into which Vessel recedes after each shadowy release, radio shows but they've already achieved legendary status as deep explorations of sound and bass. When Tri Angle announced they were putting out Seb's LP I ventured out to see him live (supporting Holy Other) and was impressed by the weighty, slinky structures I encountered.

Although Tri Angle press paints a dark, demonic picture (topless, half-obscured, patterned shots that remind me of a bass-bin Loki) Seb and Vessel are actually a lot more accessible in reality; playful yet paranoid and solidly, relentlessly urban and ghostly without sounding uniformly mournful, these stuttering beats are both enjoyably danceable and hold up under a closer, critical listen, especially the B-side which suggests House music as a compulsion, a spirit breaking out, while retaining a tough robo-exterior. Seb, in person, is also as  likable as his trax. 

[P.S. Seb also records under his House moniker, Panther Modern. I have one 12 and, despite still having reservations about House's worth as a 'have-a-go' genre, it's undeniably fun and heavy]

Raime - Hennail

Raime: Hennail
Raime - Hennail
[Mine has no cover, just a blue photocopied insert in a black sleeve...and thus, sadly a reissue]
Supporting Hype Williams seemed, at the time, too obvious a gig for Raime when I first encountered them. I had been slotting Hype Williams into as many musical narratives as I could -dub, industrial, post-punk, grime, DIY -in an attempt to shake free of the hypnogogic tag that, frankly, didn't seem fit to last. Too dubby and ravey (in a slow motion come-down blur sort of way) to really fit in nearly with Industrial, they nonetheless shared the sonic-trickster personality of Cabaret Voltaire and to some extent groups like Bourbonese Qualk. Now I realise they're firmly part of the UK Bass set, not just because of the Hyperdub connection, but the whole attitude and reference points of two-step, East London garage/grime and the underground world of pirate radio.

Raime do not fit this tag. Raime are somehow firmly northern, their affiliation with Brummie techno bruiser Regis and the Blackest Ever Black label leads me to file them alongside SPK, Test Department and the gurning wickedness of Whitehouse. While not noisy or abrasive, there's something heavy and rusty, doom-laden yet impersonal, about these extraordinarily well made, if shy, constructions. Time is taken to paint a dense but never overpowering sonic image, one senses they've laboured over each sound's position and angle in a way that defies any boffin-like tag because, really, things unfold in such a gaseous, natural fashion that they sound positively arcane. A recommended 12 that demands repeated listens.