WOEBOT

Illbient must be about ten years old? I've been planning putting all these discs together for ages (this is the first part part of an "dilettante's guide" to 90s Electronica), but what always troubled me is that I have practically nothing to say about them. DJ Spooky was good, and actually his music always stood up a lot better than his rhetoric, which was narcissistic and a bit theoretically spotty (much like this blog in fact). That'd be a backhanded compliment were it not for the fact that in my book the music matters so much more. The Ben Neill record is a Spooky single in all but name and crops up on the "Songs For A Dead Dreamer" LP.

"Incursions in Dub", the sampler, always struck me as a bold self-elected candidate for No New York 2. Quite like Rephlex's "Gang of Four" Grime compilation too in that sense. It's not just the ineffably bleak quality of the material that recalls No Wave either, the way all these acts engage with Black music, and yes this applies to the Spookster too, is in determinedly bleached-out way, but ironically one which seems true to that music's notional intent. Just like the way James Chance, on the surface of things seemed to miss the point of funk. The Contortions were almost too skronky and ragged to be literally funky, and yet on the philosophical level, they let it all hang out, shook it on down and ran out the voodoo. I always liked the cover art of "Incursions" as well with the bold gaffer taped edges.

The first Byzar, Sub Dub and We LPs correspond to the four corners of Illbient as mapped out by the aforementioned compilation. The sad truth about Illbient as represented by these LPs is that (whisper it), a lot of it ain't much good. (Don't email me and tell me the second Byzar LP is the one I want, because I won't believe you...) Even though I've lovingly rescued these records from the bargain bins and reunited them with their chums, I'd have to concede there's a shortage of musical ideas in them that it's a bit shocking. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad to have them, in all their double-LP-in-thick-card wondrousness, but I there's a little too much delight being had here in just letting the machines run.

Posted by WOEBOT at 10:20 PM | Permalink

Recently I've discovered this exciting and interesting new music format. They are these little silver discs and they are kept in these tiny plastic boxes. (Regains composure) Given that I'm still largely devoted to the long-playing vinyl format, I've found myself mapping my sublimated black plastic desires onto my CD-buying. So for instance, weird electronic music made between 1947 and 1983, you couldn't really get enough of it could you? And as it happens the prices for originals have gone through the roof; indeed if you could find any good examples of the stuff to actually splash your cash on.

Enter the Creel Pone label. Some crazed dude in Iceland who's had the vision to do more than offer mp3s to download or endlessly catalogue and assemble musical phenomena, he's lovingly reproduced the sleeve art of the original records, painstakingly encoded the vinyl, hooked himself up with distributors around the globe and built his own CD label. Genius! But more on the label and its releases in the next week or so.

One of the nice things for me about Creel Pone is the way that its remit brings together a whole load of records which previously were orphans, musical waifs and strays from sound laboratories, library music collections, private press releases and classical music labels. Yet because they're all records of electronic music, they're somehow very special, bold and forward-thinking, in short, in need of a good home. And now that home is Creel Pone. By extension I immediately rooted through my collection and was able to extract the following ten LPs which I guess would be eligible for release on the label. In truth they do verge towards what the hardcore collector of this sort of thing would regard as commonplace. Really! I know for a fact that at least two have been reissued on CD through what might be called "proper channels" ie licensing and the like.

Probably the most famous document of the Scandinavian Avant-garde music scene. Folke Rabe's "Was??" is possibly the loveliest piece of minimalist music there is, and sonically analogous to the back sleeve, a shot of two hippies sitting in a forest, the photo which on closer inspection reveals all kind of things hidden in the foliage...bananas...more bananas...photos pinned to the trees...a gramophone player. Half of this LP has been reissued on Jim O'Rourke's Dexter's Cigar label.

More sheer loveliness on this deeply echoing scape of rolling tablas, infinite flute and undulating analogue synths. Like a number of Library records this one is billed as an aid for interpretive dance. Woops, better keep the electronic quotient up!

One of the very few (the only?) example of Richard Maxfield's music to make it to wax. "Night Music", a darkly synthesized panorama of violently clicking and rasping insects is a bonafide David Toop record. There are great tales of Maxfield who I understand turned Terry Riley onto psychedelic drugs, but who came to a messy, almost classically psychoactive end by jumping out of a window whilst on LSD. The Pauline Oliveros on this is also excellent.

Another very weird Library record for "Radio, Television, Film and Advertising backgrounds." The German Oskar Sala is one of the pioneers of electronic music. Building on the work of Freidrich Trautwein he worked exclusively on their monster synth the Mixtur-Trautonium. Some pieces of Sala's, in the vein of Messaien's "Turangalia Symphony", combined the orchestra with electronic but my LP is solid electronics. And it's a corker!

I first saw this LP in Bristol for something like $40, passed on it, then found it three years later at the music and video exchange for $15. A steal! The Sala record above I bought off that funk stall (the name of which evades me) in Camden market when all anyone was interested in was breaks. Wot a clever dick I am! I popped into Harold Moores yesterday to see if, like back in the day, there were the odd electronic record kicking around. The man behind the counter took no glee at all in telling me the carcass had been picked clean. Pfeiffer was an extremely famous, high-ranking producer of Classical records and "9 Images" (which is like staples and glue compared to most of this extremely advanced stuff) was obviously him being indulged by his bosses.

"Played by IBM 7090 Computer and Digital to Sound Transducer." There's a lot of influence of the Bell Telephone Laboratories on this record, presumably Electronic Music was viewed as relating to Ring(tones) and speech synthesis much as in fashion Haute-Couture relates to Accessories. This record is famous for M.V. Matthews's "Bicycle Made For Two" in which the computer is coaxed to sing the ditty in a unintentionally melancholy way.

I just can't imagine a whole LP of Electronic Music made by women being released in any decade other than the 1970s. This has had an official reissue recently, and even though I sound rather glib, it's a widely respected recording. So there!

A Margouleff, of Tonto and Stevie Wonder fame, oddity. The cover of this is to die for! The very abstract Moog is augmented by the mystical pratings of the most hilarious English luvvie, one Malcom Cecil: "The mother stood sorrowful, near the cross...(big pause, a flick of the fringe)...crying..." This is real Ghost Box stuff I decided.

Drool, drool! A privately-pressed concrete-jazz mash-up library record featuring two of the heaviest Electro-Acoustic Composers of the day.

Ah, now this is a bit of a cheat, for though it belongs here and neatly rounds off my perfect ten, I've actually blogged about it once before. Y'see, much as I'd like to pretend, I don't have thousands of this sort of record. I stopped buying them a while back when I guess I thought I had enough. But like Simon said when I told him I thought I probably had enough Ardkore records: "Does not compute". Even so this and this and this and this and this and this, yeah that might be enough.....

Posted by WOEBOT at 10:54 PM | Permalink

Stepinac today

It was with a slightly wry smile that I read Simon Reynolds breathless synopsis of Dragomir Žerjavic's (aka Stepinac's) career. Although he's only recently exploded into public consciousness, Dragomir is well known to cognoscenti. However other parts of Mr Reynolds's account distinctly irked me. Much was made of Dragomir's violent mother's past but, perhaps typically, his father was not mentioned.

Dragomir's Grand-Father

Illych was the son of legendary Mandolin player Stjepan Žerjavic, here pictured with the Croation Tamburitza Orchestra on tour in America.

Dragomir's Father

He himself played the Gusle in Zlatni dukati. I feel Dragomir's family's rich history within folk music contradicts the naysayers who have accused him of riding the East-European Folk Mash-up bandwagon.

Eastern Promise

In the late seventies Illych found himself swept up in the burgeoning Progressive Rock movement and his band Istrian was one of the four groups (along with Azra, Haustor, and the early Film) who contributed to the classic "Underground Dubrovnik" compilation.

The "Brothers"

Having grown up surrounded by music in his family it was only natural that Dragomir would become involved in the business. With his two cousins Mišo and Tomislav and friend Toni, Dragomir (beneath the column) was part of one of the very earliest Turbo Folk groups "Brothers in Rhythm" who released their well-regarded eponymous LP on Rotterdam's Benelux Records.

War Inna Slovakia EP

After a hiatus working as a tour-guide the Stepinac we know comes into focus four years ago with this ground-breaking Gabba-Volk single on the awesome Požega label.

Balkanized EP

Another classic, this time from 2004, on Požega.

IDM!

Almost forgetting this from 1997! This time working as Stepinack, "Rigid Interbody Penetration" was released on the Worm Interface label at the height of Intelligent Dance, but sank without a trace.

Posted by WOEBOT at 12:21 AM | Permalink

The other day a friend came round to my house and rifled through my record collection. He became very interested in my Cybotron "Enter" LP because, as he pointed out, it was a promotional copy of this legendary LP.

According to my friend, a Detroit Techno fiend had told him (in hushed tones) that the promo of this LP carried (vamps on over-size church organ) a different version of that primal Techno track "Clear".

I had to bashfully admit that I hadn't really clocked this, or must have just taken it for granted. I bought this record around fifteen years ago and, well, I have a lot of other records too.

With great trepidation we lowered the needle to the record however as soon as as the strangulated, strikingly different, "Clear" refrain occurred we knew we were on to something slightly special. There's lots of very unusual things about the track, which you'll no doubt hear for yourself.

I don't normally offer mp3's up for download, but figured that finally here was something truly worth sharing. The encoding was done at 64kpbs, so please Juan don't sue my ass.....

Posted by WOEBOT at 09:22 AM | Permalink

This book Factory Records: The Complete Graphic Album has just come out and I had a bit of fun thumbing through it at, that Venus Flytrap for Graphic Designers, the Magma bookstore in London.

Actually I don't have many Factory records. I'm a fan of course, but not in the way that for some people it is practically a cult. When I did once get the chance to work with Peter Saville (who lives across the park from me and is an exceptionally stylish dude) I used the opportunity to get him to sign a copy of "Closer" for Mark K-punk. Mark ended up interviewing him for FACT anyway, so he probably could have got him to sign his own copy!

These are, barring my Joy Division records, the only Factory records I have. Section 25's "From The Hip", Quando Quango's "Love Tempo" and Cabaret Voltaire's "Yashar". I reckon they're probably the hippest of the whole lot.

The other day Simon linked to both these trainers. Which reminded me that Ben Kelly, the guy who designed the Hacienda with Saville more recently did the stores for British Auto-Accessories shop Halfords.

I think its similarity to the club is dead amusing.

Posted by WOEBOT at 09:56 AM | Permalink

At the Glade Festival this Summer I heard Erik Davis give a talk about Electronic Music. It was full of fascinating insights and mind-boggling historical facts. Did you know that as much as electricity has been quantified and its effects both observed and manipulated, that (even in 2007) we are no closer to understanding what the hell it actually is?!? So for instance while Faraday was able to work out that moving a magnet over a coil of wire causes an electrical current to flow, his theory for what was going on is "off-the-wall" in today's parlance. And no better explanation has been advanced. Electricity truly remains some kind of mystic force, Davis taking delight in exhuming an 18th cult of Electric Christians.

Perhaps in keeping with the less-than-academic context of a music festival Erik's talk was free-ranging and his theoretical derive also took in the pseudo-Magical nature of crystals and their role in channelling Radio signals as well as the relationship between Analogue and Digital. It was at this final point that his talk became more speculative. Erik sees traces of the mystic in both Analogue's wave-like forms and in the principals of Digital music. Refreshingly he didn't come down on one side or the other though I sensed that he perhaps had greater sympathy with Analogue music (in its final manifestation as the vinyl record) as opposed to the Digital.

It was at this point, before legendary Occult Author Graham Hancock took the stage, in the form of a question, that I got to lay my Summer theory on Erik. I paraphrased it but it went something like this (deep breath):

Since the dawn of recorded media, be it Audio or Visual we've had to had to contend with the effect of Analogue generation loss. When we used to see old films on television or old music on the radio we not only had to contend with the "zeit" fingerprint as manifested in the then archaic film or audio process (be it Technicolor or Direct-to-Disc cutting) but also the decay which has occurred as those signals pass down between analogue mediums of recording.

One could argue the toss whether methods of recording have become more "transparent" as the years progress. Though equally one could simply argue that each generation's notions of transparency supplant the previous one in quite random ways, and that this revolves as much as anything around notions of realism. So for example the brittle trebly production signature of Martin Hannett on The Buzzcocks's "Spiral Scratch" was "more real" than, say, Martin Rushent's engineering on Gentle Giant's "Three Friends".

However, what no-one could dispute is that with a correctly-implemented digital pipeline there need never ever again, and let's focus on the history of recorded music (though it applies equally to film and video) be a need for sound quality to degrade. When one copies digital information properly there is a simply an exact copy made of each 1 and 0 in the string.

When I was eighteen I stayed at the house of my friend's father, a famous hippy Earl in Cornwall, and I taped his scratchy copy of Randy Newman's "12 Songs" onto a crappy old C90. That C90 had belonged to my Dad in the mid seventies and had previously had a performance recorded off Radio 3 on it. I had then taped some gleeful punk crud over the top of that, and then finally like icing on the cake, the Randy Newman. The Earl's tape deck was busted and so there was practically no signal at all in the left channel. In those days before I discovered Second-hand record shops that was the only way I was going to be able to hear "12 Songs" and I listened to it all the time. Many of you will have similar memories of how the analogue pipeline, not necessarily compromised, but intruded in your listening experience.

As much, perhaps more than the method of recording, this made things sound old. Even at the most basic level, records got scratchy and started to wear away in the course of time. But with Digital (ta-daah!) time as we once recognised it officially ended. And I'm sort of fascinated with how this apparent stasis of time has thrown the music industry into crisis. There are lots of phenomena one could ascribe to it. The voracious Retro culture (of which I must be a component), music like Amy Winehouse and The White Stripes (who Simon Reynolds once described as like a "cabinet-maker") and maybe even (over-egging it) the death throws of the industry itself- for if there is no past, then can it ever have been alive?

Posted by WOEBOT at 10:37 PM | Permalink

I've completely lost touch with my old buddy from Glasgow Johnny Lyle. We used to DJ together at a night Johnny set up at The Art School. Anyway another friend, who doesn't know him, just sent me a link to a project Johnny's done called "To Have and To Hold" about vinyl. It's very entertaining.

Posted by WOEBOT at 12:26 PM | Permalink