Best of 2013

1. Dean Blunt 'Redeemer' [Hippos in Tanks]
2. Livity Sound 'Livity Sound' [Livity Sound]
3. Floorplan 'Paradise' [MPlant]
4. Kerridge 'A Fallen Empire' [Downwards]
5. Young Echo 'Nexus' [Ramp]
6. James Ferraro 'Cold/NYC 3am' [Hippos in Tanks]*
7. Skinny Puppy 'Weapon' [Metropolis]
8. Terrence Dixon ‘Badge of Honor’ [Surface]
9. RP BOO 'Legacy' [Planet Mu]
10. E.M.M.A. 'Blue Gardens' [Keysound]

Five from the UK, four from the US, one from Canada; nine boys and one girl; five black and five white; four with vocals, six without; not a single drummer in sight.

1: Dean Blunt's wry left-turn into the world of tortured, soul-like ballads and proper 'tunes' works like the best post-punk albums did: a slippery mix of serious song-based musicality and sonic trickery or spice; think back how Psychic TV mixed tender love songs with gnashing sound collages and just enough earnest innocence (you knew they were up to something though). Striking, entertaining, challenging and backed by a live show that was the perfectly provocative companion.

2. Bristol's very own bass-boyband, Livity Sound's 2CD 'compilation' may have been drawn from material composed over the last three years but the sound does much to sum up 2013 in British electronic music: the encroachment of gunmetal grey techno textures, the resurgence of quality homegrown house and the continuing fragmentation and reconvening of 'bass' styles such as grime and dubstep. Livity Sound is never wholly grim, in the way Downwards can be, but paint a smoggy picture of rain drenched back streets and basement DJ alchemy.

3. Detroit's own techno deity, Robert Hood's return to house and gospel-powered DJ tools was a real shot in the arm. Still fundamentally minimal and working in tightly constructed and interlocking cycles that work efficiently on the basic principles of addition and subtraction, Paradise brought funk and functionality together nicely. Amazing on the dancefloor, irresistible at home.

4. Something of a throwback, Kerridge's debut on Downwards is made up of scorched drones, ghostly voices and great gritty smears of static redolent of a sedated SPK or some of the particularly dead-eyed proponents of the post-industrial sound. LPs like this have been keeping me satisfied this year because, while the boom in industrial techno has been thrilling and wearing in equal parts, it has allowed some non-club works/acts to rise to the surface under the pretense of a broad definition of 'techno'. File alongside Fishermen's 'Patterns and Paths'.

5. Another Bristol lot, Young Echo collected some of their collaborations, projects and older works together to form this debut that ranged from a warm ghostliness to coldly menacing, danceable and caustic at the same time but never in the same way as some of the year's techno -no big noises, bursts of aggressive or punches thrown, just sideways looks, shadows and psychic armour. A varied, misshapen but oddly beautiful work.

6. I've included the Cold mixtape alongside the NYC HELL LP as one was the herald and prologue to the other, meaning that while some of the shock of the LP's content, style and approach was stolen by the mixtape, it allowed me to enjoy the former more as it was immediately familiar. Whereas Ferraro's Farside Virtual blinded you with concept and 'do I like it?' (for most, if not me) before the musicality and craft could be enjoyed, we were able to get down and intimate with NYC HELL a bit quicker. Although quiet and deadened, it's the perfect counterpart to this list's #1.

7. A last minute bump-up from the 11-20 list for this one for the following reasons: brevity and craft. Puppy played to their strengths by getting back in the same room as each other to work, no e-mailed/dropbox'd mixes and long distance, isolated composition, meaning that coherence and singularity of vision gave this album a robustness of concept that was lacking in their recent works. Puppy mastered the album again, just as they had managed in the early 90s with Too Dark Park, a collection of tunes that were not just thematically linked but sonically; the band reverted to using hardware and a similar setup to the one they began with in the early 80s: synth n' drum machine. As a result, the compositions are stark yet intricate, relying on hands-on techniques with simple sounds to generate life and animation (in a purely Frankenstein sorta way). They also managed to cover themselves with a new version of Solvent (a very old track) that works without feeling overtly or grossly retro.

8. Dixon first thumped onto my radar when I bought a dirty-cheap secondhand 12" called 'Live in Detroit' and featuring the UR logo. The clattering, blaring live tracks were brutal, mechanised funk of the greatest functionality and impressed me; last year's album only reinforced my awe. I was pleased when the LP for Badge of Honor dropped late 2013 and was a solid distillation of my year's obsession with spacey, jazz-damaged techno not provided by its other masters, Mills and Moss (who both released fine, if not memorable, albums this year). Rubbery yet robotic, the tracks here are expertly chiseled sculptures that see Dixon further defining a very personal (and refreshingly individual) niche of his own in the techno/house sphere. Spacey, yet curiously down-to-earth (no aliens or Sun-Ra business here).

9. Footwork didn't grab me, really. Not at first. It takes a particularly unified or bold release to shock me -such as Young Smoke's superb Space Zone from 2012 -and this year, that was RP Boo's collection of older tracks. Brave, dark, unusual and surprisingly fluid, the whole package hangs together like a proper album should and yet each track feels like an explosion of potential because it is so easy to imagine the dancers really going toe-to-toe over these frenetic, yet somehow martial, beats. Dance music frequently provokes dancing but it takes craft to evoke it successfully.

10. A grower and, as compliment, here on the list because it scratched the itch normally attended to by Fatima Al-Qadiri's works (of which no albums were forthcoming this year, sadly) and which Cold Mission (by Keysound sibling Logos) just about failed to reach. That latter abstract grime LP was beautiful, beguiling and an instant classic, but Blue Gardens has got some fantastic tunes, some real catchy, ravey moments where simple ingredients like a beat n' a synth come together to form some dazzlingly pretty compositions rich with melody and implied colour. That the pallette grows wearing is its only weakness (reflected in its placing at the bottom of the list), but the strength of E.M.M.A.'s ideas combined with a clean, clear execution resulted in some strong home-listening grime. 

BRK Greatest Hits Volume 2

New Raider Klan mixtape a show of sinister strength

Last year the KLVN dropped their gritty 2.7.5 Greatest Hits Vol 1 that was an essential, if intimidatingly indigestible, collection of gothic, 90s-style, Three 6 influenced hip-hop that acted as both a catalogue and showcase of the talent surrounding 4AD-signed Spaceghostpurrp.

Far from simply replicating SGP's smoggy, hallucinatory and doom-laced productions on Mysterious Phonk (His 4AD LP) or previous tapes such as Black God, the crew tape reassuringly laid out a strong hand of rappers and producers who shared a specific aesthetic rather than slavishly adhering to the successful formula of their leader. 

So, no powerfully mystical cuts that matched Purrp's grim masterpiece Bringing Tha Phonk but also none that really tried. Southern in style, skrewed from inception and gleefully corrosive, 2.7.5 Greatest Hits Vol 1  was an impressive landmark for the collective.

BRK Greatest Hits Volume 2 dropped in March, giving KLVN fiends another feast to force down and make sense of. To be fair, many tracks have appeared in other forms and related mixtapes (the Klvn are nothing if not productive) but hearing them collected does help in making sense of the last 7 months of activity.

The tape reaffirms what you knew before: Denzel Curry's flow sticks out as the most accomplished, Amber London's attitude and presence is compelling but rationed, SGP's tracks are culled from older mixtapes and the Klvn rever DJ Skrew and Three 5 Mafia. 

Few standouts post-date the first volume of Greatest Hits but, to be fair, this isn't a chronological release that records and compiles recent highs or notable experiments, more an actual Greatest Hits Volume 2: no new material, just the stuff that didn't fit on Volume 1. 

Different works stick out (such as Eddy Baker's alarming similarity to Tyler) than before but, ultimately, you probably already have a lot of these tracks or have heard them via the twitter feed. Still, a decent recontextualisation that acts as sharp reminder of how much quality material the group have produced.

Should BRK enter the studio and, under the guiding hand of SGP's productions, produce a definitive commercial release, they've got a vast repository of talent to draw from so.

What IS up, side B?

James Ferraro's Sushi LP

Side B of new album not what it seems...

Wasabi, indeed. The second side of James Ferraro's excellent Sushi LP is not what it seems. Luckily I was at home today for Mr Postman to drop off my long-awaited LP and, well, side A was great (I've heard the digital copy umpteen times since its December release) but side B was...well...not side B.

Instead of E7, Jet Skiis & Sushi and the sublime SO N2U I was 'treated' to two booming, frenetic 1990s hard-trance workouts. The full laser beam/"all I wanna do is do it" treatment.

Not sure whether I'm being trolled hard n' rough by Lord Axe or whether it's a misprint. If Prince James Ferraro intended side B as a prank, then this would explain the month-long discrepancy between the digital release and this physical one. Pre-orders were sent a compensation download to account for the suddenly delayed physical release of the album in December. The d/l was intact and contained all tracks which, for the last month, I've been subjecting my wife, friends and students to whenever possible (it doesn't enhance learning, btw, just teases it). Thus, I know the album inside-out by now....whiiiiich made the Eyeball-Paul Sessions on Side B all the more surprising (but nonetheless, fucking hilarious).

A* for the tunes with extra credit for the gag...

Review: Linckoln Public Library

MJ Linckoln experiments with taking vaporwave further on Mannequin.

It's no secret that MJ Linckoln's releases of last year were among my favourite vaporwave/webwave EPs and albums, moving from epic-zombie-groan-nostalgia-80s-skrew to intimate instrumental pieces that evoked spending a gentle night camped in the forest, by the fire, with the Sun Araw band set to sloooow burrrrrn.

The best part of those latter recordings -under the Malibu Locals Only moniker -was the use of extended concrete samples: trains passing, crackling fires or just wintery atmospherics. Never foregrounded, these backdrops provided grit, sensation and texture to the charmingly understated keyboard flights that sat atop them. 

MJ takes this technique further on Mannequin, a split with new-to-me Public Spreads The News (PSTN), by applying it to traditional vaporwave tracks (if one can use words like 'traditional' when discussing vaporwave...). The effect, best heard on At The Gates of Macy's, the EP's opening track, marks a development in vaporwave that I've been hankering after for ages: juxtaposition! The track begins with some clanking, like locks or chains with a hint of rust and age, and what sounds like chanting monks or a voice choir (slowed slightly). A bright, yearing and cloudy vaporwave tune (tweaked, chopped, meddled and fucked-with around the edges) barges sensationally in, its blurry sentiment seemingly at odds with the ominous rattle and dolorous voices. The two continue side by side, independent but providing a revealing and satisfying contrast.

Biggs' Rash pulls the same trick, though less jarringly, as the background textures buzz and hum along behind a slow, syrupy synth-funk that smoothly unwinds, coughing and spluttering as it goes (the induced stammer creates a neat textural grinding effect on the sample), with a kind of Gothic breakdown in the middle. 

The effect is one not dissimilar to a car stereo, or wearing headphones with poor noise cancelling, where the outside world bleeds into the central tune, adding to it or keeping a gentle hand on your chest to stop you falling forward into total immersion. It helps that the vapor tunes are expertly done, neat chops and manipulations that keep things glam and exciting. 

Each on of MJ Linkcoln's tracks glimmer with bright smiles but, around the edges, the seam is breaking and the machine is exposed.

As for Public Spreads The News, each track is bright vaporwave in the best sense, foggy loops and vocals pitched to a braindead slur; pop re-imagined as a sinister block party for the undead, all smooth movements rendered grotesquely jerky or disquietingly lifeless. Fine examples of the genre.

When I investigate PSTN a bit more I'll maybe add some bits as the artist seems to have some great looking releases, I just need time to digest 'em. 

You can get Linckoln Public Library here.

Vapor as industrial

Is vaporwave the industrial music of 21st century culture?
                                

Much has been made out of how vaporwave is the sound of capitalism and rightly so: the subversive, ironic 'yielding' to corporate aesthetics is refreshing, enjoyable and rich with potential (Check out Eyeliner's terrific album High Fashion Mood Music). The mall is to vaporwave what the Norwegian forest is to Black Metal.
  

We're invited to experience said malls in Metallic Ghosts' recent The Pleasure Centre, wait patiently for our call to connect throughout 회사AUTO's excellent カスタマーサービス Line✆NE or, with the genre's vibrant Ur-text Farside Virtual, allow our weary avatars to relax and luxuriate over Second Life sushi to the tune of ringtone symphonies.

Embracing the lush, easy fruits of capitalism (however ironically) is the order of the day because, lets face it, most of us in the West have computers, internet access, televisions and smartphones (to the students I teach, the iPhone 4 is old tech, and we have a large number of students from areas of high social deprivation i.e. relative poverty) which are luxuries of relative wonder to earlier eras; economic crisis or not, many people are comfy.

So, it's natural that music should reflect accurately our conditions, even if it is a winkingly self-aware one that appears to mix fuzzed-out VHS nostalgia with HD optimism rather too blithely. The re-appropriation of principally 80s pop, soul and funk songs that are smooth, easy-going hymns to the commerce of comfort and  torrid extravagance as valid self-expression, only seems to add credibility to the idea in that the chopping and skrewing of these peons to luxury appears to serve the function of acknowledging forebears, ancestors or even a 'better time', aesthetically; nostalgia for what the crop of young producers never actually experienced first hand.

While having these thoughts, I was reminded of the great cataclysmic activities of Throbbing Gristle, SPK and other progenitors of 'Industrial Music'. Now, Industrial music is my rock n' roll: Cabaret Voltaire are my Beatles, Throbbing Gristle my Rolling Stones and the likes of NON my Dylan. It struck a clangorous and memorable chord with me when I discovered these artists and, especially, the use of the term 'Industrial'.

Rather than simply imply a connection between their noisy, droning, grinding compositions and mere factory machinery (a mistake to do so), they instead referenced the culture of the industrial age: "it was unhip to glorify mass production" recalled Genesis P-Orridge of the generation of their chosen genre descriptor, also remarking that "We used to make joke comments like 'We churn out records like Ford make motor cars'" (October, 1980)*. Similarly, the music vapor artists use as their raw material is about as unhip (and less prankishly contrary than TG) as you can possibly get.

Whereas the name referenced socio-cultural conditions, the music produced under the Industrial banner was deliberately unpleasant and challenging, reflecting what TG saw as "vivid and accurate reportage"** of their conditions, their world. So, if the world was filled (which it was) with economic decline, serial killers, burns victims, crypto-fascism and pornography then, well, their music ought to reflect that. The result was hard upon the ears of many but a balm and rousing inspiration to generations since.

Vaporwave, similarly, has an element of reportage to it. We're visiting temple-like malls regularly, soaking up the latest fashions, unconsciously surfing new developments in technology, entertainment and social interaction, enduring (to the point of numb acceptance) hold music, retro-reactivations of decades past, corporation-compiled 'indie/alternative' music playlists and gorging ourselves on such a variety of gastronomical experiences that would constitute high luxury in TG's joyless 70s Britain.

I'm not criticizing. This is is life. I like my laptop, sushi, gym and iPhone. What I want to emphasise is that vaporwave's utilisation of stock sound, corporate muzak or high-gloss pop (which, to the stereotypical 'music lover', is intended to be unpleasant or unmusical) parallels TG's appropriation of feedback, tape noise,   samples and general unpleasantness as they're not intended to be music, not intended to be pleasurable artistic statements but at best byproducts of actual entertainment (parts of TG were often described as sounding like a Pink Floyd soundcheck). The sound of industrial activity, factories and forges, did seep into TG and other like-minded bands consciousness (Richard H Kirk once remarked how the drop forges of Sheffield could be heard around the clock and, as a result, in their music) just as Skype's functional plops and wheezes have seeped in James Ferraro's.
      회사AUTO includes telephone hold messages as intervals -blandly polite, empty facsimiles of genuine sentiments, not intended for aesthetic consumption, just as the feedback that TG foregrounded was once a side-effect of live rock music -not the main attraction, just a byproduct.

There are more superficial comparisons to be made between vaporwave and industrial: the repetitive nature, electronic manipulation of sounds, the use of found/re-appropriated sounds as mischievous juxtaposition, experiments with sound quality and, well, that vaporwave has realised better than TG ever could the idea of producing records "like Ford make motor cars". 회사AUTO has released an album a month since November, of excellent quality I might add, and the prolificacy of other vaporwave artists is not to be sniffed at.

For me, at least, who feels that vaporwave actually exists along the continuum of noise music (specifically the American noise tradition), I get a similar perverse kick out of listening to a morbidly slowed n' slurred version of Berlin's Take My Breath Away (by MJ Linckoln) as I did first hearing Throbbing Gristle holler and wail about the Moors Murders (Very Friendly from First Annual Report). Both were well known, even unconsciously embedded, parts of my culture of which I and others took a dim view of (admittedly comparing murder to Top Gun is still stretch for some), re-contextualized for a new purpose.

Any thoughts or opinions greatly appreciated to further the discussion.


*Quotations from P-Orridge taken from 'Wreckers of Civilisation' by Simon Ford.
*Also from Ford's book, p7.17

회사AUTO review

Ok, a bit overdue this one. Longing & Passion ⌘42 came out over a month and a half ago and I've probably given the album 7 or 8 plays since then, continually returning to it. The first track, Nu Haircut ⌘42 is a funky, breathless whoosh of scrambled back-and-forths, like the two tracks are duelling for attention, one subduing the other before its is grabbed and wrenched out of the limelight only to pull the same trick itself moments later.

One of the techniques the vaporwave artist needs to be adept at is the subtle edit and must possess a gentle, warping hand that smudges and smears the picture to just the right degree. 회사AUTO achieves this admirably, especially on the handsomely cool second track, Rendezvous (301 562-6824), which sees the not-quite-there skip n' jump disorientation being used to a deft, understated effect (the fleeting moments where the track runs back) before things clatter down in the last 30 seconds, the original track dying off to be replaced by a strident synth-jazz theme, all bicycle rides along the coast, pointing-to-the-future optimism.

The edit-as-artistry is present throughout but one of my favourites is ☄CRYSTAL☄COCOA☄, where the  scrambling and skipping gives the track bursts of energy at just the right moments. At its kaleidoscopic best, check out ☫☪reation☫ofMico☪hip {{loveME}} 01101110 01101111 (below)

The whole package, as with all 회사AUTO releases so far, the correct mix of decadence and distortion, with tracks zipping back and forth at points and for a duration that gives just the right emphasis to the moments or the sounds produced to be appreciated.

회사AUTO already has another excellent release out, カスタマーサービスLine✆NE, which I'll try to review before the weekend. Releases seem to appear on a monthly basis, hopefully with a good arc of development between the tracks. I'm enjoying the playful edits and aesthetic use of rewinds...oh, and the impeccable selection of tunes.

Taking the piss?

Vaporwave Thoughts

"Whether Mr Mutt made the fountain with his own hands or not has no importance. He CHOSE it. He took an article of life, placed it so that its useful significance disappeared under the new title and point of view – created a new thought for that object" 

Anonymous editorial from The Blind Man, 1917

Vapor is addictive. I can't get enough of it. Also, the steady stream of releases from bandcamp, tumblr and elsewhere keep me serenely dosed up all through the week and, when there's a quiet patch of no releases, I get twitchy and start trawling soundcloud like a crackhead approaching members of the public on the street.

I recently read this far-too-brief write up of the excellent #SPF40.2 festival and thought I'd post my reflections on the event. However, due to some timezone trolling, I missed the live broadcast and spent the day after frothingly bugging the artists for their sets which, kindly, they obliged me by supplying or linking to.

Hold Muzak DJ sets from Prism Corp aside, this was a rich audio experience from a group of musicians whose curatorial recontextualization of ready-mades are often mistaken for lazy re-appropriations devoid of musicianship, a vindication of sorts.  The core of vaporwave's sampling principle -using corporate jingles, elevator soul, waiting room funk and corporate video ephemera is, to me, the audio equivalent of Duchamp's Urinal, both in end result and status/perception of raw materials: the urinal is as functional and intrinsically unpleasant as the calming, pan-pipe drift of hotline hold music but, once signed by the artist ('R. Mutt'/ Veracom) and placed in the correct artistic context (Society of Independent Artists Exhibit 1917/bandcamp label 2013), it takes on a new aesthetic quality.

Bear with me. Look at Duchamp's Fountain. Once signed, photographed, rejected, scandalized and immortalised it begins to transform before us. You notice the alien-elegance of the shape, the organic and almost fish-like protrusions, guppy 'mouth' at the front and odd curvature of the main bowl. Then you remember it's for pissing in. It's not art, it's for pissing in. But Duchamp has made you, even for just a second, reconsider Fountain as a product of human society, as an artifact as ridiculous as it is somehow profound.

Similarly, 情報デスクVIRTUAL's (Virtual Information Desk)landmark album “札幌コンテンポラ (Contemporary Sapporo), the best approximation of Duchamp's message for the internet age, presents dead-eyed capitalist sax solos and dreamy Mall symphonies is almost unaltered form. In the same way the appellation of R. Mutt 1917 constitutes the only alteration or influence on the condition of Fountain, other than its placement in and presentation as art, the slights skips, occasional warps and subtly discernible shifts in pitch and tempo work as reminders that this isn't just straight up theft; signs to look (or rather think) closer.

The genius of Contemporary Sapporo is just how slight these alterations and intrusions into the original are. We are aware that this is an electronic music album -there are a slight alterations and we know of the context, the genre, the set of rules and conventions the artist is operating within -but before long the effects, the artists' hand, become difficult to hear. A couple of tracks in, your brain notices that that last smear of saxophone schmaltz sounded pretty unmolested...was it pitch-shifted down? Probably...maybe...of course, it must've been. The artist wouldn't just put the original (nasty?), intolerable original in there without some interference...would they?

Doubt creeps in; you listen closer. An investigation of the textures, in hope of revealing evidence of inspired manipulation, gradually transforms into an appreciation: you catch yourself thinking 'that synth sound was quite enjoyable...those drums are sorta cool...'. Similar to my description of the aesthetic qualities of Fountain above, the functional and inoffensive chords designed to sedate (or to efficiently contain your piss) suddenly become choices, or rather, perceived as artistic intention. 

Except, is the intention there at all? Did a Japanese composer circa 1991 receive a brief requesting a set of 'relaxing mood music for our waiting room' or 'a confident, stylishly modern soundtrack to our conference in Singapore' and think 'I'm going to create something lasting, something that'll stop them in their tracks and gain me the respect of my peers' or did he take his $200 commission and do what he's told?

Intention is an ambiguous issue. On the one hand, the composer must create something of musical merit (using chord progressions, be in time and show an understanding of timbre and melody necessary for mass consumption and -importantly -acceptance by and adherence to the requirements of the customer) and so any critical appreciation we have of it is hampered by the corporate origin and its purpose being a conflict of interests: we expect our music to be stimulating, creative and enjoyable where this is merely meant to be comforting and unobtrusive.

 On the other hand, part of the conceptual attraction of music that uses these sonic artifacts is to take something that is perceived as being devoid of artistic merit and of any intention to entertain in this way; we're subverting its original purpose by presenting it as a post-modern pop-art, just as the inherent joke and value of Duchamp's celebrated pisspot disappears if we discover that, in fact, the creators of this Bedfordshire standard urinal from J.L. Mott Ironworks fully intended it as a piece of art, took inspiration from Renaissance design and intended the work to be reproduced, disseminated commercially and appreciated as such (like a major label album).  

Can we appreciate these as pieces of music? Well, vaporwave allows us to. It provides the necessary transformation and validation. The band names, album art, track-titling conventions and distribution models (announcements via Facebook, bandcamp/soundcloud releases and dearth of physical presence) all contribute greatly to the thrill and I'll be sure to write more on these later, but for now, before the joke wears thin, let the wave wash over you.

This post was meant to be about #SPF420.2....I got sidetracked. I'll do that later today.