Showing posts with label PHILIP SHERBURNE. Show all posts
Showing posts with label PHILIP SHERBURNE. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 1, 2013

escape from the Planet Retro

"Strafed with sirens, jittery chords, and synth glissandi, "Dopamine Rush" is just that, and "Dread" feels like several chapters' worth of Simon Reynolds' Energy Flash condensed into six jaw-grinding minutes of rolling breaks and diva loops..." - Spin's Philip Sherburne on a track by Infestus on the One Eyed Jacks label: 



yes it's like a mash-up of Todd Terry and Human Resource with a smidge of 93-Reinforced 

Sherburne on other tracks from Lisbon producer Infestus's Lost Bangers EP:

""Tundra Riddim" clenches its fist around brittle Eskibeat and "Pulse X"-styled bass brutalism. The outlier is "Logistics," which grounds itself in canonical bleep techno — squarewave bass, dissonant chord stabs, "Think (About It)" yelps, the whole nine yards — yet still manages to sound futuristic, like an escape pod launched from the planet Retro."

"Canonical bleep techno" - love it!

Would probably love it I could hear it, too, but they don't have  "Logistics" (or  "Tundra Riddim") on YouTube. But they do have another Lost Banger tune, "Dread"

 

Tuesday, December 18, 2012


It starts with the idea that "we've reached peak dubstep, folks"..(And after Bieber and Muse have hijacked the rhythmic undercarriage and bolted What They Do on top -- and not uneffectively, either, although in Bieber's case the song and the substructure seem to bear no real relation to each other beyond adjacence for the duration of the single-- that would be seem to be a logical and inevitable development). And then Phil points to how that's left a gap in the aesthetic-ideological market that's yet to be filled: "a vacuum in electronic dance music's whirling vortex, contributing to a nagging sense of rudderlessness throughout the year."

"Despite the rise of trap, there wasn't really anything to take dubstep's place as dance music's Next Big Thing. And it didn't feel like there was anything new on the horizon — at least, not a "scenius"-level newness, a collective movement towards something greater than the humdrum now. Everything kept getting bigger, but behind the breathless boosterism of overground and underground alike, there was a sense of spinning wheels. Economists have a word for this: "Stagflation."

Ah, stagflation. Now this was a term that I really wanted to work into Retromania , in the conclusion chapter when I wheel out the concept of hyperstasis. Partly in hopes of tightening the rather loose economic/finance-capital analogies I'd made, but also simply because it's such an ugly word.  But in the end I went with the trope of "ever accelerating circles."

Phil continues:

"Legacy genres like house, techno, drum and bass, and trance soldiered on, as they must. No slight to them; just as Japandroids proved the enduring pleasures of back-to-basics rock’n’roll, there was no shortage of if-it-ain't-broke-don't-fix-it classicism in dance music, particularly in that nameless space between underground and overground." 

I love this term "legacy genre", and the more general use of  "legacy" as an adjectival noun, which I've seen cropping up increasingly in the last year or so.  One of those vague but evocative terms that does the job in  an open-ended sort of way.  Perhaps it has some business world or media world usage I'm unaware of, to do with branding or marketing or something like that  ...  but the idea I get from its use in a music context is "established, time-honoured, with a history behind it". A history that then becomes capable of being revisited.

So the transition from emergent genre to legacy genre is the very threshold at which retro becomes possible, in all its permutations (commemorative releases, oral histories, reissues, revivals, homages etc).

In between though there must be a stage of reasonable duration where the genre is neither unknown nor over-familiar but is in its prime: freshly accepted, but still surprising, still growing. Perhaps that corresponds to what some call the Imperial Phase (usually with an artist not a genre:  when a group or performer is at at the top of the world AND the top of their game, creatively -- just runnin' tings). 

"Legacy" is  a nice way of saying "old news". Which is a way of saying, "something you can't be an early adopter with, because you're too late, mate". For journalists, "legacy" also means: hard to get an assignment to write about in magazines, apart from specialist publications. ("What's the story, here? "Techno, Still Pretty Good"?!?!)

Perhaps when a genre reaches the legacy phase, it has a history behind it - but it can no longer make history. Its normalisation -- its acceptance -- is both its triumph and its downfall, because it's just part of the landscape now. 

(Is there a subtle difference between "legacy" and "heritage"? Legacy perhaps leaves open some kind of functionality in the present ("a living legacy"), an ongoing state of relative vitality, the mature refinement and perfection of the already-formulated. "Heritage" just seems to suggest a museum culture, a style of music to be documented, studied,  memorialized preserved - propped up with reverence. 

Perhaps they correspond to stages of life....

emergent / childhood-teenage
imperial / young adulthood-thirtysomething
legacy / middle age 
heritage / old age )



Back to the Phil S piece: somewhat contradicting the "rudderlessness" accusation made at the start of the article, he tacks to a more positive view of hyperstasis as a roil of endlessly morphing  nano-generic possibility - the Harper position, basically, but really a glass half-full view of the exact same condition seen as glass half-empty by such as moi:



"Outside the EDM bubble, deep in the underground — the realm of boutique labels, small-cap rooms, and idiosyncratic festivals — lo-fi textures, counterintuitive structures, and a general disregard for convention resulted in some of the year's most exciting electronic and dance music. Genres mattered less and less. House and techno and the broken beats of what we've settled on calling "bass music" ... kept getting more and more tangled up. There was no one sound that felt new, just a steady stream of short, sharp shocks that pulled the rug out from under dancers' feet, and forced them to think and move in new ways."

Monday, November 26, 2012

EDM, rock, numbness, dumbness, immortality, adolescent sense of time

At GQ,  Gideon Lewis-Kraus finds reasons to celebrate EDM:

"... What's important now is not where or how you heard a track first; it's that it's heard repeatedly and by as many people as possible. It's the opposite of hipsterism. Where hipsterism is about being part of the few in the know, the EDC scene is about being a part of the many. Insofar as it's a scene at all, it's one geared toward the universal coalescence that the focus group of the Internet makes possible. This is a youth phenomenon that has submitted to the fact that access to knowledge—the secret location, say, of a warehouse party—no longer sets one particular group off as a special vanguard. They've forsaken the secret-remote-warehouse culture for the understandable reason that it defines itself by whom it leaves out, and from the standpoint of lunchroom sociology, the Speedway feels downright utopian. Distinctions obtain, but frivolously: Whether you look cool at the door has been replaced by which subgenre you've allied yourself with. It's less a scene than an indistinguishable panoply of micro-scenes. But it's hard to tell if anybody worries that when you have so many "friends" that you'll "never be alone again," what constitutes friendship—its texture and specificity, its content—might have been diminished. In a world where the highest compliment you can pay a piece of music is to compare it to a virus, where the Internet seems to function as an all-encompassing and largely inexplicable lottery, it's easy to see how the effortful things become secondary, and why we might just be glad to concede that we're all athrum in these beats together".

While others find reasons to detract and deplore:

Bill Brewster on the fading artistry of deejaying in an EDM era:

"EDM has effectively bypassed the club culture on which house and techno were founded and gone straight for the stadiums and festival jugular. Judging by the many clips on YouTube, its stars have taken their cues from rock stars rather than the clubbers who helped to create dance culture around the skill of DJs such as Frankie Knuckles. This new breed of star DJ is not content to be hidden away in a booth with a tiny slit, like Junior Vasquez was at New York's seminal Sound Factory. Instead they mosh and crowd surf (DJ Steve Aoki was hospitalised after an incident involving a trampoline last week: he's clearly no Nils Lofgren) from their elevated stage, while the crowd look on, shuffling and whooping. Worse still, some of them are alleged to perform to the kind of pre-mixed sets that have caused the Calvin Harris controversy....

"What marks out these events is how little interaction there is between DJ and audience. The audience consumes rather than participates, foregoing any form of empathetic experience in favour of bland ingestion (and usually faithfully documented by the cancerous presence of a thousand camera phones held aloft). A great DJ can coax you into places you didn't know you wanted to go until you get there. It's what marks them out from a ninny with too many tattoos playing a CD" 


Philip Sherburne on how "Dance Music's Creative Crisis: It's Not Just Streaming"


^^^^^^^^^^^

Meanwhile Robin James at It's Her Factory offers a series of neuropolitical diagrams of how EDM works as an architecture of affects and intensities:

From Bay to Brostep: Neuroliberalism from post-cinematic affect to EDM

Taking MIDI-Junkies Into The Death, V2.0

 (chase down also her article in the New Inquiry on EDM)

and

 A Few Unfinished Thoughts on Usher's Numb


"Numbness" features in the most rave-like / EDM-y of Ke$ha's songs, "We R Who We R", where she sings: "We're dancing till we're dumb / Our bodies going numb / We'll be forever young". 

Numbness figuring as a trope of sensory overload, neuro-electric circuit burned out, pleasure centers maxed

Robin appears as a cultural pundit in my NYT Ke$ha piece

and she has some further thoughts here

I'm not sure i really buy this idea that "“die young”/no future aesthetic is TOTALLY a co-optation of gay male musical and subcultural practices from the late 20th century. " 

the music, you might say (house, club, Euro etc) comes in large part from gay culture

but the attitude?

Well, it goes back as far as Romanticism (and its sequel, fin de siecle decadence -- Baudelaire, "be drunk always" etc)

It's deep in rock (I mention Jim Morrison, but "no future" is pure punk -- the song it's from is "God Save the Queen" which  contains the millenarian line "if there's no future/how can there be sin?")

Also, there's plenty of straight, working class, white examples through history of living for the weekend, druggy no-sleep excess as a maximisation of non-work time  (Northern Soul, mod, etc)...

and straight, middle class, white examples too (binge drinking at college, Spring Break, even 1950s trad jazz which is where the term "rave" had early use etc)

Part of the sense of time in the music relates simply to adolescence, to the teenage ability to A/ not think about consequences B/ that teenage thing of feeling  invincible, indestructible, immortal ("we're gonna live forever"--Oasis)

And in our conversation, Robin described the non-providential, live-for-now temporality as "immature behaviour"

(I think it's been exacerbated and given a darker edge by the precariousness of the last several years economically)

Now gay dance cultures, arguably, created lifestyles that could stretch this temporal modality way beyond adolescence (because settling down / quieting down could be staved off for much longer, even indefinitely)

But equally you could say that rock as it became a long term career option also turned  adolescence into a kind of permanent way of life, an exile or exemption from grown-up temporality

(think of Sunset Strip metal, as heterosexist as it comes, but equally dedicated to waste, excess, recklessness)

which i think is why "rockstar" as an abstract quality (signifying excess, going too far, recklessness) is such a reference point for this otherwise all electronic, guitar free club music (cf. the recurrent references to Mick Jagger --  representing a kind of Peter Pan ideal, maybe)

Friday, June 1, 2012

"I love the frisson that comes from hearing lines like "Don't give up your buttercup" delivered in a voice as deeply masculine as Everton Barnes', with multi-part harmonies that recall a doo-wop chorus down on one knee. From a cracked-pavement backdrop of shuffling snares, grunts, and sternum-thumping bass shoots up a yellow flower: It's as irresistible as it is absurd" -- Philip Sherburne at Spin with his own list of fave UKG and 2step tracks