" /> WOEBOT: October 2006 Archives

« September 2006 | Main | December 2006 »

October 18, 2006

The WOEBOT T-Shirt

woebot_front_small.jpg
View T-Shirt front larger

woebot_back_small.jpg
View T-Shirt back larger


Remember my piece on legendary sleeve designer Dave Nodz? As it happened Dave did Google his own name and popped up in the comments box of that very post. As well as getting a fine interview from him, I couldn't resist the opportunity to commission him to design a T-shirt for WOEBOT. It turned out to be an expensive process.

Firstly there was Dave's not insubstantial fee; legends don't work for nowt. Also this had to be a top quality cotton garment (they're the same ones Stussy use) and the design couldn't be some iron-on rubbish (they've been indelibly screen-printed). I got my pal Laurent at Bread and Honey to supervise the production. I've worked out I'll need to sell eighty-three of the hundred just to break even. But 'tis a noble thing to behold!

WOEBOT has been running at practically full-tilt for four years now (I'm factoring into that one year of starting threads at Dissensus). I know my comments boxes are quiet, stymied by the tedious Movable Type verification process, but I prefer it that way, they're a space for people who feel they really need to leave a remark. My Technorati profile isn't that impressive either. You might infer that WOEBOT is enjoyed by the select few, and that my spoiling away is something I do for my own benefit. One peek at the WOEBOT stats ought to dispel that. If 1,400 of you are coming here every day, and 20,000 every month then, to say nothing of the goodwill generated by the hundreds of CDs I've posted to folks, (now sweating profusely) I ought to be able to shift a handful of T-shirts. Otherwise I'll be wearing them myself for the next thirty five years.....

INCLUDES PACKAGING AND RECORDED DELIVERY POSTAGE. BE SURE TO SPECIFY M, L OR XL!

-

I'm taking a break for a couple of months, I have some stuff I need to do. But I guarantee I will be back early in the New Year. In the meantime make me happy and buy a T-shirt.

The Davey Interview!

It just so happened that Dave Nodz saw this and got in touch. Dave did a super, rather moving, little Q&A for me:

How did you wind up doing the Suburban Base sleeves?

It all started really when the record shop “Boogie Times” opened up in my home town of Romford. It was the only place really that I could get my early house and hip hop, so I guess I became a regular. One day I was hanging around the place as record shoppers do, and I had just returned from an interview at some graphic design studio if I remember, and I had my portfolio with me. The boss of the shop, Dan Donnelly, out of interest, asked me to show me what sort of stuff I did, and that was it really. He asked me to do a t-shirt promoting the shop, which had up until then been a pretty lame to be honest plain logo type. I already had a design of a kind of b-boy character with a set of turntables and a mixer strapped to him, (which I later reprised for the back of a DJ Hype sleeve) and I adapted it with Boogie Times lettering. Up until then I think the idea of merchandising was not really thought of seriously, but from then on, a limited run of 100 t-shirts were produced, and to my surprise, were lapped up by the locals. When Suburban Base was conceived, it was a natural progression, and the merchandise was an important part of advertising and spreading the label image, and became popular, not just with t-shirts, but jackets, record bags, slipmats, even lighters, and even exported around the world due to a mail order form that was inserted into every Suburban Base release. So I was pleased that not only was the record label getting great recognition, but I hoped myself and my style as well.

Did you ever do graffiti?

Surprisingly enough, I was never really what you would call a hardcore graf artist I suppose. I used to do outlines and pass them on to people to reproduce, but my medium was on paper, never really with spraycans on walls. While at college in London, I met and befriended graffiti artists just about the same time as I began to get serious about my hip hop collection. So I walked and talked the graffiti style, name- belt and all, and due to my talent I guess, could mix with the right people. So apart from my lack of time down the “yard” I never really considered myself “fakin’ the funk” as Main Source would say.

Were there any particular artists work you loved?

My influences have always been comic book artists, obviously I think. If I had to name particular ones I would say Simon Bisley, whom I consider to be god, and who in homage to have ripped up many a design cursing how good that guy is. His early black and white ABC Warriors series artwork for 2000ad is perhaps my biggest direct influence, as well as his Lobo series, and a myriad of awesome covers. Jamie Hewletts’ style is brilliant, I have a lot of his early work, and I think he also gave me a quite disturbing crush on Tank Girl. I love his clean simplistic style that he has now honed to his amazing work with Gorillaz. I also admire a lot of the superhero artists, notably John Buscemas’ Silver Surfer, Frank Millers Batman, anything by Alex Ross, and also the fantasy art of Boris Vallejo.

Any other sleeve designers you rated?

As far as other sleeve designers went, I don’t think many independent labels really bothered. Jaz, who did the artwork for Genaside 2 was the nearest I saw to what came out of my own head. Some of Junior Tomlins’ stuff was pretty good on mainly Kickin Records I think, but the airbrushed style also mirrored by Pez, I think became clichéd during the period in which it was rehashed on most rave flyers. I also loved the style of the artist that used to do the Ultimate Breaks and Beats LPs. Myself and Danny Breaks, obviously both ardent hip hop fans, decided to recreate (out of respect) a typical design style of the latter for the “Flowers in my Garden EP” even down to the colouring. My idea for the Suburban Base image was always meant to be monochrome, not for cost saving reasons, but more because for one it was what I was most comfortable with, and for two, I thought once people were used to it and expected it, you could hopefully always pick out a Suburban Base sleeve on a record shop wall.

How did you find your work changed in during the Ardkore to Jungle years?

I suppose my work changed and adapted image wise, to the changing face of the underground music scene. I just thought it fitted the hardcore urban music style. You could never recreate that image for a house release for example. Sometimes artists had ideas of their own, which I tried not to dispute, although I was of the opinion that hey, I know what will work and look best, that’s my field, yours is the music, but inevitably some sleeve concepts were compromised and maybe suffered as a result. Most of the time I would design a sleeve purely based on what the name of the track conjured up to me, it was that simple a thought process really. Either that or I would just sit and doodle, and something usually came up!

How do/did you do your work? (Pencil/Scanners/Software etc)

The materials for all my work were very basic. I had trained for a couple of years as a paste up artist, (even the title now defunct due to the rise of the computer) so I was used to simple tools and methods such as Letraset (ha!) and copious amounts of Spray Mount. All ive ever used for any sleeve design which I always produce in black and white, are a selection of black pens, sometimes a Rotring 0.5 or even thinner, some cheap markers, pencils, tippex for highlighting..as I said, very basic, but its what I’ve always been comfortable with. The technology came along and was fine when used properly and subtly, but its no good having loads of fill effects and photoshop style sleeves in the hands of the clueless to begin with. A prime example being a series of Jungle compilation sleeves I did for Labello/PWL, which when handed over to the “colourist/finisher”, came back looking to me like someone had been sick all over them, and my artwork was scarcely recogniseable.

Were there any particular sleeves you especially proud of? Why?

As far as personal favourites go, I always have a particular fondness for QBass’ “Dancin’ People” actually. I think because I used a lot of little graphic tricks and effects in that one that I’m still proud of, although I always have the urge to go back and re-do a sleeve and improve it. I’m not one for self-congratulation, you would never find any example of my work on my walls or on show at home, for the precise reason that I would constantly be wanting to change things. Also on the Dancin’ People sleeve, I still smile at the little running story I did to accompany the artwork and to set the tone..my attempts at being Frank Miller..ha haa. I’m glad you included the Shades of Rhythm “Peace Sign” sleeve, as that is another favourite of mine. Again, working purely from the simple name of the track, and with a hint of Bisley influence.

Did we leave out any of your sleeves we should have included (by accident naturally)?

There are a few of the Jungle compilations I did after my Sub Base years, but because the design process was on the whole out of my hands, I must admit I got pretty tired of rehashing different poses of a “guy on the decks.”

Did you only do sleeves for Ardkore/Jungle acts?

When Suburban Base branched out to incorporate house and even hip hop, I still did the sleeves, but was never happy with them, as I’ve said before, I just thought it suited the attitude of the music and the time, and those I considered my specialty as it were.

How did you see The Art of Noize project in relation to your sleeve art?

The Noise of Art was really a completely separate thing. I just happened to spend a lot of time in the studio with other artists, and had always thought that my eclectic music background would be a bonus when “digging in the crates” for samples. I had messed around in the studio and come up with a demo of what I hoped would be a 4 track EP to be released on Sub Base, but I think the sample clearance would have been a problem. The DAT has alas been lost but I seem to remember Robert Plant and Led Zeppelin wailing away on one particular track. Slightly obvious maybe. I had originally wanted The Noise of Art project to sound a bit more Techno with breakbeats not so prominent, (in fact early name ideas were “Eclectronica” and “Nouvo Techneau”) but when it came out in my first release on the Subplates Volume 2 as “D. Stomp”, I don’t think people really got it. I still liked it anyway so there. Its funny because after doing so many covers for other artists, I had always harboured the thought of making a personal release of my own to have the most mind-blowing cover, and when it came to actually sitting down and doing it, all I came up with was a silhouette of myself and some lettering. Just shows you.

Apologies for prying, but what happened at the end of the day with Sub Base?

Let me make it quite clear that my time working at Sub Base was the best in my life, and I still sometimes regret leaving it I think prematurely. But things had become strained and my relationship with Dan Donnelly in particular. I suppose when the money started coming in to the label, there was a shift in style and output, the urge to splash colour all over everything one I didn’t share for a start. It was mainly because at the time I was working on a set wage, and when Sub Base began to earn dare I use the phrase “shitloads” from their extensive range of merchandise, I never received a penny extra. Forgive me for sounding self-important, but I think I deserved it, my thinking being, if you take my input out of a t-shirt, how many plain white shirts are you going to sell? I certainly don’t think I was being greedy. There were other little reasons, but I think when during a heated argument one day, myself being shouted at with the words (and I remember them, such is the day ingrained on my memory as a turning point in my life) “We don’t need you anyway, we’ll get a computer” which I thought was a bit harsh considering my part in making the label successful and the image an apparently popular one. That did it for me really, and I stormed out and never went back. It may have been reconcileable, and things were maybe said that were in the heat of the moment type thing, but as I said, it was a decision I made, and one I still sometimes regret to this day. I must add that I bear no grudge against Dan in particular for the way things ended, he after all gave me the opportunity to give my work an audience, something a graffiti artist, if I can be described as one, always aspires to. We had some great times, and I miss them dearly. In particular Danny Breaks, Austin Reynolds, Mike James and Jay D’Cruze were talented and good friends, and I wish I could maybe hear from them again in the future.

Do you stay in touch with your colleagues from back in the day?

I never kept in touch with anyone from back in the day I’m afraid. I did a few sleeves and pieces of work for different people, but I had become disillusioned with the way the whole scene was going, and my feeling was I hoped that I had at least left my mark. Seeing things like this blog and receiving emails from people saying that I influenced them and just general appreciation makes it all worthwhile and something I am thankful and proud of.

What stuff have you been working on recently? Any examples?

I have since moved to Spain and apart from getting offers to design t-shirts, flyers and tattoos for people, there is no real scene to become a part of. Any work I tend to do is just when I’m doodling away on my own, for personal pleasure. I like to think I have improved a lot and would hope to maybe some time in the future have the opportunity to get the pens out again.

Shanty House Party

shanty_house.jpg

Shanty House - Friday 3rd November 2006, Whitechapel Art Gallery, from 8.00pm

"Shanty House brings a range of global urban music to the Whitechapel – from Baile Funk emanating from Brazilian favelas, to Kwaito the house-influenced sounds of South African townships and Desi, fusing traditional Indian music with Bhangra, hip hop, garage and reggae; from the Hip-Hop of the Deep South Crunk, to Jamaica’s dancehall and London’s Grime.

The opening night will include a performances from Tetine, a Soul Jazz signed Brazilian duo fusing baile funk with electroclash. DJs WOEBOT, Stelfox, Bun-u playing the best in crunk, grime, desi, baile funk, reggaeton, dancehall and hyphy. The night will kick off with a special screening of Resistencia: Hip Hop in Colombia, followed by a Q&A with Director Tom Feiling.

Resistencia: Hip-Hop in Colombia Director: Tom Feiling, 51 min, UK, 2002
Resistencia offers a rare look at the Hip-Hop street subculture in civil war-torn Colombia, while at the same time exploring how traditional Latino music is being infiltrated by rap. Following a summer in the lives of some of Colombia's finest rappers, DJs and break-dancers, the film explores how young Colombians feel about the crisis afflicting their country and the impact it has on their lives. Caught between left wing guerillas and right wing paramilitaries, these youths turn to rap as a way to express their points of view on the realities forced upon them by long-running violence, cultural crisis and the global cocaine trade. Youthful and entertaining, but also angry and enlightening, Resistencia bears witness to how the Hip-Hop culture has a major impact far from the "bling bling" of the U.S. music industry.

Tetine
Eliete Mejorado and Bruno Verner, both native Brazilians who have since relocated to London, created Tetine in São Paulo in 1995 by combining various cultural and artistic currents. Lying at the intersection of performance art, video, and dirty electronica, a Tetine concert comes off as a Latin American version of Fischerspooner, with the raw sounds of baile funk infusing the squelchy beats.

Tetine has also increasingly incorporated the aggressive beats of baile funk into their own more rock-oriented music, which Verner dubs "punk carioca" ... Tetine's forthcoming album, L.I.C.K My Favela (on Slum Dunk Records), draws even more heavily from baile.

DJs WOEBOT Stelfox and Bun-U
Have been DJing a variety of musics at London venues and on radio, with WOEBOT and Stelfox also making huge contributions to discourse through printed and web-based media."

Shanty House on myspace

October 13, 2006

Nonesuch Electronica 11+1

Fairly recently at at Blissblog Simon was cautiously celebrating the crew he was calling the "second-tier avant-classical/electronic guys", no not some university-based off-shot of the Hardcore 'nuum, but an aggregate of nutty professors and the probing early moog opuses of their fevered brows . Simon insisted that part of the charm in this music was its affordability, I know this was a self-professed "half-baked" assertion, Simon in blogging mode casually tossing off observations, but it really stuck in my throat. I think the remark opened the way for a daft one-upmanship across the blogosphere foundered on who could find the cheapest records. OK, permit me the slightest self-indulgent paranoia, but er, was this all about me?

I couldn't help but factor in the Blissblogger's later remarks about the preposterousness of my even considering paying $250 for a record. Well I didn't buy the wax in question, but I have paid more than that for a record. If you skirt round the auctions on eBay, or the racks of GEMM you'll see hundreds of deals going down like this the entire time. Put more strongly, if you're perusing the catalogues of serious international-level record dealers, you'll not find much you can buy under that price.

I know I'm lucky to be able to spend as much money as I do on records; but I work hard, and I choose to put some of that cash into music (thank fuck someone is buying it...) not on clubbing, booze or fags, though I ought to get out more often. But really this isn't what stuck in my throat, what irritated me was the idea that the price tag on a record had anything whatsoever to do with anything. I mean, it's totally fucking immaterial isn't it? Money is nothing more than impediment to laying one's mitts on good music, it pisses one off that sometimes the hurdle is much higher than one would like, but what can you do? To create a strategy by reverse logic, to deliberately buy records because they're cheap, well it's sheer bloody nonsense isn't it? It's just the same as succumbing to the logic that somehow expensive records are the only ones you want.

I believe that Simon is being much smarter than he gives himself credit for. Fifteen or twenty years ago the records of what one might (equally casually) call the "first-tier avant-classical/electronic guys" were clogging up the bargain bins themselves. It was only circa 1996, around the ripening of IDM, that my dealer friends started selling the works of Parmegiani, Xenakis and Bayle to the likes of The Aphex Twin, Autechre, The Chemical Brothers and Andy Weatherall. Before then you couldn't give those records away. What was it Simon paid for his Pierre Henry record on the Prospective 21 siecle label back in the day, 15 pence?

-

The records he's been picking up, as far as I can fathom, are by in large on the Nonesuch label. I contacted Nonesuch about three months ago to ask them to give me a tiny bit of assistance writing this piece, and they didn't even bother replying. So if anyone from the label reads this I'd just like to say thanks for nothing you bunch of idiots. You've left me stumbling around in the dark. As per usual. Anyway I've gleaned enough off the web to be able to fill in the history impasto.

Jac Holzman, the genius behind Electra records, The Doors, The Stooges, Tim Buckley, Nuggets etc became restless in the conventional rock marketplace. He decided it'd be a great idea if there was a label that would, in his own words, cater for "music lovers with more taste than money." His idea was to undercut labels like Vanguard and the majors and put out the cream of classical music at $2.50 a disc. He cut straight to the chase and went to Europe with three notebooks full of his ideas on what to sign, cold-called the finest labels of their kind like Paris's "Club Français du Livre et de la Disque in Paris" and clutching a brace of blank cheques cut unconventional deals with them to license their classical music recordings in the USA.

That would have been that, were it not for Holzman's catholic taste. He went on to release not only some of the absolute stone classics of Ethnographic recordings on the Nonesuch "Explorer" series: David Lewiston's "Bali: Music from the Morning of the World", Lewsiton's "Tibet: Tantra's of Gyoto", the Rhythm of the Grasslands records and many more besides but also a whole slew of of records of electronic music. The labels's first big hit was Morton Subotnick's "Silver Apples of the Moon" and its success must have spurred on Holzman. Julian Cope tells the story at Head Heritage: "It was around this time that Subotnick received a visit by a representative from Nonesuch Records (a recently formed offshoot label of Elektra specialising in classical and ethnic field recordings) who offered him a record contract and advance. Having no previous knowledge of either him or the label he claimed to represent, Subotnick was wary and refused (only to discover later that day a Bach album in his own collection on the very same label.) Fortunately, the representative returned the following day with the advance doubled and a thirteen-month deadline for a finished album. This time Subotnick accepted, and set about working on compositions that would soon coalesce into his debut album."

Beaver and Krause's "Nonesuch Guide to Electronic Music" is perhaps the label's other notable LP. The legend of it being that it was conceived by Krause and Holzman on a Leer jet to the Monterey Pop Festival, where Beaver & Krause were slated to demonstrate their Moog synthesiser. Holzman comments: "It didn't take much genius to figure out that the record was the ideal medium for electronically generated music. I had been aware of the possibilities for years. My dad had a lawyer named Abe Frisch whose hobby was creating tapes of music, synthetically generated, only Abe did it with a massive inventory of tiny magnets which he pressed, one by one, onto the tape, re-arranging the ferrous oxide tape particles into something resembling a sound." The idea behind it was that the lavish box-set, with its prodigiously detailed booklet, was a guide to the technicalities and possibilities of synthesisers. It turned out to be a huge hit for the label, and was lodged in the Billboard charts for twenty six weeks.

The cultural background to these recordings is I think the answer to grasping their true worth, because not only as Simon notes are they cheap today, they were cheap when they were issued in the first instance. The Nonesuch electronic records are the proverbial Faust tapes in this way. Musically the progeny of Vladimir Ussachevsky and Milton Babbit, America's pioneering electronic composer and its protagonist for 12-tone serialism as derived from Schonberg, these cats were cut from a different cloth than the minimalists (though Terry Riley studied alongside Subotnick at The San Francisco Tape Music Center). Rather than being plugged into the Minimalist's influences (Marcel Duchamp and John Cage, Richard Maxfield, Peyote, Avant-Garde Jazz, Indian Classical and amplification in Rock) they were like enlightened college professors very much in the mould of Timothy Leary or Marshall Mcluhan*. Indeed the preoccupations of Mcluhan and Leary, which we could condense to one single idea, the electrification of the nervous system via Technology or LSD (cf The Global Village or Leary's Neuropolitique**) is the key to grasping this cavernous, introspective music. Identifying this has really clarified for me the extent to which both German and French Avant-Garde Electronic music is a spare limb of Existentialism. This distinctly American music is quite unique, very special.

These are nearly all the examples of Nonesuch electronica I could lay my hands on. The only two records I didn't care to pursue (which may also be excellent) are Gaburo's "Music for Voices, Instruments and Electronic Sounds", and Rudin's "Tragoedia for Electronic Music Synthesiser". In succinct Christgau style and in no particular order:


...loading...

Charles Wuorinem: Time's Encomium

Which has no inflective dimension apparently! Plinky-plonky events occur in time durations linked to their own internal logic. Charles borrows Milton Babbit's RCA synth and doesn't mess with Miton's 12-tone presets, therefore serial by default. Side A moves along quite pleasantly, though never terribly unexpectedly, rather like a blind man vamping upon a hammond in an empty ballroom. Side B more manic and aleatory. Charles has a Guggenheim fellowship yet, I believe, isn't pretentious. B+


...loading...

Iannis Xenakis: Electro-Acoustic Music

Klaxon! WOEBOT cheats. This is neither American nor Nonesuchian but Holzman licensing ace European electro totty. Gigantic, echoaic, clangorous soundworld, pots and pans turned in cement-mixer at bottom of well. Concret P-H: Icicles falling off cave ceiling. One of Xenakis's very finest recordings. A+


...loading...

Computer Music: Randall, Vercoe and Dodge

Lots in the rubrick about the 3 sorts of synth software they're using. Randall in 12-tone delights in pinpoint precision of computer music and makes fidgety racket on "Quartets in Pairs". However his "Quatersines" beguils and the transparent switching of line between machine and voice on "Monologues by a mass murderer" is gripping. Barry Vercoe doesn't have the intensity of Stockhausen. Charles Dodge "Changes" like the Jazz band in Star Wars. B-


...loading...

Eric Salzman: The Nude Paper Sermon

Gah! I been cheated! Hardly any electronics at all! Voiceover by actor Stacey Keach the kind of thing I'd find fascinating in British. Consort wheezes. Appallingly pompous. C-


...loading...

Morton Subotnick: The Wild Bull

Heard this first at The Glasgow University Library. Patrick Gleeson must have clocked this on Herbie's "Sextant". Great moaning expanse of desolate plains. A


...loading...

Charles Dodge: Earth's Magnetic Fields

I wanted this for ages! Find it impossible to believe this is an accurate transcription of Magnetic Data. Liner-notes bluff: "(Bartel's musical diagrams) are largely responsible for providing the motivation for the music contained in this album." Not Hardcore like Cage's "Atlas Eclipticalis". Disappointing, impressionistic, lo-fi noodling. B


...loading...

George Crumb. Makrokosmos Volume One

Piano Amplified just a little bit louder than normal. Nice but no electric banana. C


...loading...

Jacob Druckman: Animus III, Snapse, Valentine

Staggeringly good, sophisticated, fluid electronics. From 1971 showing huge leaps forward in programming grace. Side B sees subtle shift into skronky clarinet and contrabass. A


...loading...

The Nonesuch guide to Electronic Music

Recently reissued on CD. It's not all dry illustration there are a number of bad tunes within. A whole heap of fun. A


...loading...

Morton Subotnick: Silver Apples of The Moon

Title deriving from Yeats poem. Though Side A is jazzy alap, Side B is justifiably classifiable as the original techno record, grasping before (m)any recordings electronics' motorik power. A+


...loading...

Donald Erb: Music for Instruments and Electronic Sounds

Electronics in a live setting reduced to sounding a little too like flava for contemporary orchestral music. B-

-


...loading...

Michael Czajkowski: People the sky

Not on Nonesuch but Vanguard however (slightly more than something like Tonto's Expanding Head Band "Zero Time") this qualifies as being an honorary Nonesuch Electronica record. Composed on the same synth as Subotnick's work and in cahoots with him, Czajkowski's career was like many of these other composers tied up in education. There is an excellent review and interview with Michael by The Seth Man at Head Heritage. Organic, poetic, narcotic. This too, with its eldritch blocked-out rhythms, like "Silver Apples", is light years ahead of its time. A+


* I always think Leary is more like a college professor than one might think and McLuhan (confusingly) more like a mystic.
** The ideas in which illuminate one's understanding of Kraftwerk
*** In case you're interested I paid an average of $13 a piece for these records. I only bought four online, amongst which the Nonesuch box cost me a paltry $13.

October 03, 2006

A dealer disappears

This is the story of a record dealer called Soufriere1 from Canada.
He's obviously something of an expert.
Possibly a nice dude.
Almost certainly a little flakey.
Maybe something of a rip-off artist.
However things went belly-up.
Maybe owing to personal problems.
Maybe mounting debts.
One can track the fallout across the net:

He defends his use of patois here

More kvetching about the patois and then on...

This is his old eBay feedback where one can see things going wrong.

He gets himself a new eBay alias.

The winning bidder here fucks up his auction of an item. Clock their name.

People complain about his attitude here.

The full tale of woe, some people defend him, but many present tales of being burnt.

Where is he now?
It's a matter of time before his latest eBay alias is cracked.
Certainly if he presents his sales in the same way.
The story is interesting in the way in which it opens up that tension between anonymity and reputation.

Changing Voices

Ripping Reynolds's classic "Pirate Madness/Ardkore's Firin'" cassette onto a CD last week for artist Matt Stokes gave me the opportunity to check it out afresh. It consists of Simon's favourite bits of Pirate radio lunacy circa 1992. Nutters rushing out of their heads babbling inanities, phone-ins that go disastrously wrong, appalling almost surreal microphone placements and choons which slipped between the cracks. As an item it's somewhere up there with Hugo Ball's Dada manifesto.

What struck me most about it, and this relates to my remarks about Spaceape's MC-ing I suppose, was that the voices of the Disc Jockies and the MCs sounded a million miles different to how people talk today. Compared to today's pirate MCs they sound like medieval rabble. It's not just a case of shifting slanguage either there's something unplaceably foreign and alien, ruff and grimey about the voices. It made me quite emotional, almost in the way of them belonging to a "gone world", in a way that the just the music itself would never do.

Contemporary Music

I was listening to Radio 3 the other day and it was some kind of Desert Island discs. I got hooked in by this fantastic bit of Opera by Donizetti. The man being interviewed was a high court judge who was a key member in an amateur orchestra. The interviewer asked him if he ever enjoyed any contemporary music. I sat on the edge of my seat. The high court judged took a deep breath and said, in all seriousness, that he would occasionally listen to post-war stuff. I dunno, I thought he was going to say he liked Glen Miller or something at the very least. Quite heartened by it actually.

October 02, 2006

More stuff wot I got sent.

stuff2.jpg

Following on from my previous round-up of stuff "wot i got sent" here's another seven CDs which got through the stringent WOEBOT selection process and which are all thoroughly deserving of your attention. It struck me that there's a strong post-dance music thing going on with all these records.

1. Belbury Poly: The Owl's Map

How on earth do Belbury Poly wind up with these extraordinary tunings? I swear you had to actually have lived and made library music in the early 80's to master the zeit-timbres they conjoure up. What no-one has pointed out about Belbury yet (er, at least to my knowledge, gulp) is that they make Techno. Zooming forward into the future as fast as they spin back in to the past (more Wicker-man here than ever before) both axes spinning like gears on a children's toy gyroscope. My Ghost Box tattoo hurt like hell, but now the scabs are falling off it's looking brilliant.

2. A Guy Called Gerald: Proto Acid

This A Guy Called Gerald release on Andrea Parker's Lab Instinct label just made me sigh. It's called Proto-Acid, when as Gerald is at pains to point out, it has no 303s on it. Why the hell call it "Proto-Acid" then? I know as well as anyone else that the early Detroit and Chicago crew were making music at the time of Acid which was factored into what was termed Acieed when it didn't use that particular Roland machine, or more complicatedly used the 303 but didn't tweak it for the corrosive lysergic frequencies which it became associated with after Pierre's defining opus. I suppose the Musique or Gherkin labels would be the archetypes of this. Even if as Gerald remarks: "It’s how I feel house/techno music would have sounded if the whole rave thing hadn’t happened in England" this is a convoluted reading of the history.

Y'see straight away one expects both a retro-tastic adventure and banks of squiggly frequencies; but one gets neither. There's nothing backward looking about this disc at all, this isn't one of those absurd Vibert-style stylistic re-runs, rather it's Gerald rather bossily showing the likes of Villalobos and Hawtin that he can do what they do. In terms of propulsiveness, efficiently and drama he does it better. Gerald performed a similar kind of ram-raid on jungle last year, surely putting numerous backs out with hilariously abusive PR about the scene which needed him to salvage it, but with less successful results.

"Proto Acid" is a curious thing. Twenty four individual tracks, seemingly designed with the mix's arc in mind, are segued seamlessly into a mix just over an hour long. I can't think of another long-player like it in concept? Tracks are just that. One doesn't get locked into individual eddys before being passed downstream to the next, the flow is more akin to being jettisoned at velocity through pipes of different material. As if in brutal contrast to his more recent song-led work there are no verse/chorus structures, the drama is entirely created through dynamics internal to the groove. To switch metaphors to one of driving: we glide through breathy tom-tom-ised gloom of "Auto Rebuild", past the plunging electro chords of "Space 1999" into the trebling percussion of "Droid" never pausing or regrouping. My personal highlight is the quite magnificent, sublime "Merlot Brougham" for which I'd trade all Aphex's dreary Analord stuff (from which same vein it emerges). "Feel the heat" is nearly as exquisite. One just has to flash on "Voodoo Ray" to remember that no-one passes energy around around a static groove with quite the same elan as Gerald.

Remember Gerald's reputation within house music has been tainted. "Voodoo Ray" brought him nothing but misery- he never got paid*, Automanikk was a flop for him at Sony, and it was really "Black Secret Technology" and break-beats which brought money with the fame. However my favorite AGCG moments have almost all been of that rottweiler-packing, uzi-toting brand of house he's peddled in his down-time: "All Night Baby" on Juice Box, "Universe 2000" and "Forever Changing" from 28 Gun Bad Boy, Inertia's "Nowhere to Run" on Carl Craig's Retroactive. So great to hear him rocking at 4/4 with the confidence of a don. U must check this. I swear blind you'll love it.

* Though before he dredges this up again I'd like to remind him that he owes me a couple of hundred quid...

3. Kode9 and the Spaceape: Memories of the Future

The first time I heard this it really rubbed me up the wrong way. Mainly down down to Spaceape's MC-ing. I'm convinced that patois has evolved since the mid-seventies and that no-one actually sounds like this. In One Drop for instance, the MCs manage to sound different to vintage toasters. There must be a degree of quotation in, not so much his lyrics, but in the tenor of his delivery which is defiantly classicist.

Reynolds is right to point to LKJ, Spaceape is very much in his mould, his intellektual bass-heavy delivery pitched up a quarter between MC and mellifluous singjay. I did find this retro element a little off-putting because the chat's covert effect, dread, became a little mannered. I didn't "buy" it. I much prefer the tracks like the excellent "Quantum" when he reigns in the stylisation, stops rolling every "hole" opening every "gate" and sounds, well, natural. It's almost as though expecting one to swallow the Ballard-ian poetry *and* the yard threat is too tall an order.

But recently I've picked it up again and it does work nicely as a mood-piece. It's rich in tone and atmosphere and full of lovely touches like the depressed accordion on "Glass" (like Danny Weed's signature sonic drunk and broke). Also I dig the The Specials overtones as much as the next man. It's a worthy successor to the Burial LP and in twenty years time the two will undoubtedly be remembered as the sound of 2006. Thanks to Steve for sending me a copy, especially given my misgivings about Dubstep.

4. Mordant Music: Dead Air

Baron Mordant has been sending me stuff for a couple of years and each time the results surpass the last. Last year's "The Tower" was good, but in its drive towards austerity was a little thin on detail. Dead Air which I've had since May (gulp) and which has lingered on my desktop like a marshland mist, is on the other hand tailored to perfection.

Interesting how some of the best things this past year (this and the Various stuff) have been faux-dubstep. In the past things like "Fungle" and much Intelligent Techno, in other words where self-styled artistes/auteurs have claimed to better an original genre, it has always been a turn-off to me.

5. Xylitol

Clenching it tight to his bosom. I'm their biggest fan. If I had a label I'd sign them.

6. Sacred Selections

This project was great fun. I got hold of Matt Stokes the artist who did it and he very kindly sent me the sumptuously packaged CD. Qua music its a strange thing, on the one hand the slightly elephantine organs struggle with all needlepoint dynamics of the music (Northern Soul, Happy Hardcore and Black Metal), and on the other the orchestration doesn't really do justice to the breadth of the instrument's sound. Also I'm afraid to say that the recording is very distant (a whole heap better than my dictaphone though) and you really want to have microphones down the pipes to get the volume up-close.

Matt did include an archive recording for the St Matthew's at Westminster performance on the 4th of May, the one I attended, and it's a much better recording and a more confident performance. I sent a copy of this to Simon and I sent Matt a copy of Reynolds's old "Pirate Radio Madness" tape (which I ripped to CD) and also Dj Wrongspeed's "Pirate Flavas". It's all art innit. If I remember rightly Mr. Wrongspeed was at the concert as well.

7. Si Begg: My Style

I don't really know anything about Si Begg, but he sent me this and it's really good Reese-bassline/breakbeat madness.