"My purpose was simple: to catch the feel, the pulse of rock, as I had lived through it. What I was after was guts, and flash, and energy, and speed" - NIK COHN -
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "When the music was new and had no rules" -LUNA C
Interesting bit o' text here from Brian Eno, written for the booklet accompanying the 1997 Can remix project Sacrilege. Invited alongside other luminaries to remix classic Can tracks, he accepted enthusiastically, only to find that he couldn't improve on the originals. Hence the sheepish apologia above.
Interesting because earlier in the '90s, Eno wrote this ahead-of-its-time piece for Artforum which identified the curator as the crucial creative of our time. In the years prior to this article, it had been something of a recurrent motif in Eno interviews - references to deejaying and sampling, suggestions that the role of originality and innovation in cultural activity was hugely overstated, that culture was a compost heap and he, like every other artist, was primarily in the business of recreativity. In the November 1991 Artforum piece (a review of a book about hypertext and writing in the age of the computer) Eno delineates:
"a curatorial spectrum from gallerists (people who identify and distinguish their own particular constellations in the total space of art history, and who thus create original resonances in that space) to rap artists with their samplers (people who fabricate new music out of the total space of existing recorded music). It addresses critics, editors, program directors, science writers, librarians, political analysts, spin-doctors, newswriters, and educators—anyone whose work is to create pattern in the great fluxes of information. Curatorship is arguably the big new job of our times: it is the task of reevaluating, filtering, digesting, and connecting together. In an age saturated with new artifacts and information, it is perhaps the curator, the connection maker, who is the new storyteller, the meta-author."
But half-a-decade later, here's Eno creased with doubt about remixing as an idea and verging on lapsing back into the Romantic cult of the originating power of genius. As he says to Can, "if you want to make records for people to remix, make less brilliant records in the first place."
And of course, Sacrilege was magic dismantled from start to end.
It came out just past the peak of a flood of these supposed tributes to legendary artists, that tended to take the fashionable form of completely replacing the constituents of their original work.
The title "Sacrilege" was a kind of warding off the reflexive (and as it turned out, totally warranted) suspicion of the Can-fan.
I can't remember which piece it was, but in some much later article critiquing remixology, I pictured an employee at Music and Video Exchange bumping into a teetering tower of unsellable remix CDs and being buried under the collapsing crapfall.
The main CD I had in mind was Sacrilege.
Out of all the forms of waste generated by an obscenely wasteful record industry, the remix tribute album might be among the worst. Can you think of any that wasn't utterly redundant? Well, there was a bleep-era celebration of Yellow Magic Orchestra that was fairly decent, corralling all those Warp-adjacent UK producers of the time. It had a certain consistency, sonically. But truly there's not one that I really think fondly of - or, more to the point, that I can actually remember. (Same goes for the alternative-rock equivalent, of course: the cover version tribute album, celebrating a figure like Neil Young, a similarly pointless and waste-generative syndrome).
Almost as low-yield as the tribute album: the routine industrial-scale generation of remixes of dance tracks, done in hopes of penetrating the ever-widening sub-markets of the dancey spectrum (a trance mix, a prog house mix, a handbag mix, a jungle one etc).
Better outcomes in terms of worth-listening-to would be the intra-generic remix - a jungle track remixed by other jungle producers, a house track retooled by another house artist. Sometimes clustered on the original12 inch release, sometimes coming out on a separate disc after an interval (to extend the life of the track or ratify its success). This tended to work best when the remixer was an ally, part of the same clique or roster-cluster, and aesthetically sympatico - think of Foul Play's sublime remixes of fellow Moving Shadow artists Omni Trio, Hyper-On Experience, and E-Z Rollers, each of which eclipsed the original.
Best of all in terms of yield rate, would be the remixes done by the original artist themselves - the auto-reinterpretation. Foul Play's retake on "Open Your Mind", for instance. Or their Martian reinvention of "Being With You"
Still, even with the intra-generic remix or auto-remix, there's a lot of redundancy.
Then you get into the IDM-world, where dance-functionality is not a concern particularly, which seemed to invite the obliterative remix - remix as an essentially all-new work Either producers doing it to their peers and pals, often as a swapsie, or being paid handsomely by pop acts or alternative rock groups looking for a dose of hipness. Again, the yield here was fairly thin. For every Seefeel "Time To Find Me (AFX Fast Mix)/(AFX Slow Mix)" there's half-a-dozen insta-forgettables. (Aphex's 26 Mixes Done For Cash - ha ha at the title, but not one of his essential works, let's be honest). You would think that the implicit license to dispense with the original completely would free the remixer up to go crazy- but somehow the hired-hand relation seemed to work as a restraint. Perhaps it's simply the fact that the remix would still have this subsidiary relationship to the original, with the primary artist retaining authorship (while also remaining at the receiving end of any revenue stream).... perhaps this would encourage the remixer to save their best ideas for their own work.
With all these different modalities of remixing, the end result is almost always "just more music", as Eno puts it above. The mountainous heap of so-so sound in this world gets a little higher.
Below is a piece I wrote at the peak of the culture's - and my own personal - enthusiasm for remixology.
Still, even then - 1995 - it's notable that I suggest it might be time for a neo-conservative shift: a return to the idea that the remake should have some relation to the original and to be in the business of enhancing and expanding upon the primary track-text, as opposed to replacing it with something else altogether. In other words, a return to what a remix was in the 1980s. And that actually happened in the 21st Century, not as a wholesale return, but as the fad for the re-edit.
VERSUS: DUB and the SCIENCE of REMIXOLOGY
Pulse, 1995
by Simon Reynolds
Last year, two albums--"Muziq Vs The Auteurs" and
Massive Attack V Mad Professor's "No Protection"--won
critical plaudits with their two different takes on the same
concept: a reknowned remixer's drastic (per)versions of the
original artist's material.
Massive Attack's languid trip hop is deeply informed by
reggae and sound-system culture, so it wasn't such a huge
leap for the band to invite one of its heroes, UK dub
producer Mad Professor, to rework the "Protection" album.
The Professor's treatments, while often extreme,
were sublimely sensitive to the spirit of Massive, and many
fans and critics reckon "No Protection" superior to the album
proper. But tekno boffin Mike Paradinas of Muziq and wordy
songsmith Luke Haines of the Auteurs come from utterly
opposed aesthetic universes. Haines' willingness to
subject his finely honed rock-lit to Muziq's merciless
mutilation seems masochistic (especially given
that Paradinas has never concealed his contempt for the
material he had to rework).
In both cases, it's the "versus" in the title that's
significant. . In the early '80s, a remix meant an extended,
marginally more dance-friendly version of a pop
song. But today, "remixing" usually means creating
an almost entirely new track which contains only tiny shards
and ghostly traces of the original. It's now the norm for
remixers to operate with an almost contemptous disregard for
the original work; in turn, their clients give the remixers
licence to deface and dismember. It's this adversarial
attitude on the part of remixer towards remixee that the word
"versus" evokes. Alluding to the reggae tradition of the 'soundclash'--
a contest between rival sound-systems--"versus' also chimes in with the
widely held belief that dub pioneers like King Tubby and
Lee Perry are the founding fathers of today's science of
"remixology"
"Versus" is the subtext of so much of the most
challenging and vibrant musical activity of the mid-'90s. In
the area of "post-rock" experimentalism, the last two years
have seen a spate of "remix" albums by bands like God, Scorn,
Main, Tortoise and Ui, each featuring a gaggle of guest
remixers. Even Jon Spencer Blues' Explosion got in on the
action with its "Experimental Remixes" EP, wherein the
Explosion's live'n'smokin' R&B got seriously studio-warped by
You can also see the 'versus' concept lurking behind
John Oswald's "Grayfolded" (where the plunderphonic
pioneer sampled improvisatory material from 100 live versions
of the Grateful Dead's "Dark Star", then wove it into a
seamless, ultra-kosmik uber-jam); behind Stereolab's "Crumb Duck" EP (in
which the band's playing was collaged and processed by
veteran avant-gardist Steve Stapleton of Nurse With Wound); and behind
Faust's comeback album "Rien", which was spliced together by experimentalist Jim O'Rourke out of live recordings of the group's reunion tour of America from
a few years earlier. O'Rourke is also working on a remix project for Mille Plateaux, where he's using the Frankfurt-based label's entire avant-techno roster as source material.
And all the above is before you even begin taking into account
entire genres of contemporary dance music, like trip hop, house and
jungle, where the simultaneous release of a bunch of barely
recognisable remakes by several different remixers (four,
five, six, and more!) is a common occurrence, and the "re-remix"
can prolong a track's dancefloor currency to a year or longer.
Dance music has its own 'remix albums' featuring guest producers, like trip-hopper DJ Food's recent "Refried Food", or The Shamen's CD-worth of versions of the same song, "Move Any Mountain". (One version consisted of dissassembled components of the track, to enable the listener to construct their own remix). Dance also has the 'remix tribute' album, where instead of covering songs by the original artist (as in the rock tribute album), forgotten innovators like Chris & Cosey or Yellow Magic Orchestra are 'honored' by having their classics vandalised by their aesthetic progeny.
* * * * *
Ironically, one of the few places this kind of remix-mania
isn't the rage is in Jamaica's dancehall reggae scene.
Ironically, because Jamaica was where "versus" began.
"King Tubby and Errol Thompson (Joe Gibbs' engineer)
were the first remixers", claims Steve Barrow, A&R director
of the reggae reissue label Blood & Fire and dub historian (he is
currently co-authoring "The Rough Guide to Reggae", set for
'97 publication by Penguin). "But dub didn't demolish the
original completely, whereas today the remix is a complete
remake--say, just a wisp of Mariah Carey's vocal over a
whole new rhythm track. The ur-text of a dub is always the
original vocal version.
"At first dubs were just called 'instrumentals', then they
started calling them 'versions'," Barrow continues.
"Gradually, more effects were added --echo, thunderclap, etc-
-and dubs got closer to what we now think of as a remix. By
1982 dub had run its course in Jamaica, it had become a
formula. But that was just at the point when dub techniques
were first being picked up by disco producers and used in
remixes."
According to Barrow, the "versus" in Massive Attack V
Mad Professor is a "take-off" of the "soundclash", an event
where sound-systems competed to attract the majority of the audience to its end
of the hall or enclosure. "In the early days of reggae, you
might have Kilimanjaro Vs Jah Love Music. Most Jamaican
dances featured just one sound, but in the ska days, you'd
get places where loads of sounds would meet and compete.
There's always been intense competition in Jamaica between
sound-systems--to get the best, most exclusive records (a.k.a
dubplates), to have the most powerful PA system, the best
sonic effects. Cos that's the way to increase patrons and
gate-money, and to build up loyal followers".
Later, "versus" became a sort of free-floating buzzword,
as with albums by Scientist (Overton Brown, a protege of King
Tubby). "With, say, 'Scientist Vs Prince Jammy', that's just a
concept, to recreate the old vibe. It's similar to the idea
of 'meets', as in 'King Tubby Meets The Aggrovators At the
Dub Station': that phrase describes the economic relationship
between the producer and the band, but in a more vibesy way.
It's just a more exciting way of describing the record than
'this is King Tubby working over a bunch of Bunny Lee
rhythms.'"
The current revival of "versus" has taken the word from
its original context and used it to describe the modern ethos
of remixing, ie. the remixer is paid handsomely for
mutilating, maiming and mutating the client's original work
to the point of utter unrecognisability. But dub still comes into
play, in so far as dub's bag of tricks -- dropping out the
voice and certain instruments, extreme use of echo, reverb
and delay in order to create an illusory spatiality, signal
processing, the addition of sound-effects--have
been dramatically expanded thanks to digital
recording and mixing techniques.
The idea that early '70s dub is the origin of
remixology's science of sound-mutation is fervently embraced
by Kevin Martin, who put together the celebrated compilation
"Macro Dub Infection" ("Compilation of the Year" in the Village
Voice's 1995 critics' poll). Drawing on artists as diverse as
New Kingdom, 4 Hero, Tricky, Tortoise and Laika, "Macro Dub Infection"
tracks the virus-like spread of dub ideas throughout '90s music culture,
contaminating everything from hip hop and jungle to avant-techno
and post-rock.
Kevin Martin also leads not one but three experimental
bands, God, Ice and Techno-Animal. God is one of a number of
English post-rock outfits who've released "remix" albums. On
"Appeal To Human Greed", God's jazz-core tumult is vivisected
and reassembled by avant-garde kinsmen such as Bill Laswell
and My Bloody Valentine's Kevin Shields. Drone-rockers Main
and hip hop noir unit Scorn put out "Ligature" and "Ellipsis"
respectively, long-players based on the same premise.
American avant-rockers have followed suite: Tortoise with the
"Rhythms, Resolutions & Clusters" mini-LP, while Tortoise's
ubiquitous drummer/producer John McEntire is one of the guest
remixologists featured on Ui's "Unlike" CD Why is there so
much interest in remixing? Is it just a knock-on effect of
rising interest in club-based and post-rave musics, itself a
bored response to the tired traditionalism of grunge'n'lo-fi
in America, and Britpop in the UK? Or does it run a little
deeper?
"People have lost respect for the heart of the song,"
argues Martin. "The song is no longer considered sacrosanct,
it's seen not as a finite entity, but a set of resources that can be
endlessly adapted and extended." Martin thinks this state of
affairs is way cool. In fact, when he got Kevin Shields to
rework a God track, and hired jungle producers Spring Heel
Jack to remix "Heavy Water" for Techno-Animal's "Babylon
Seeker" EP, he "told them they could leave nothing of
the original if they wanted. They were astounded!"
The subtext of "Macro Dub Infection", says Martin, is to
show "just how important the processing and treatments have become in modern
music. It's almost like musicians are accessories to the
process now. You've got people doing great work who lack any
traditional instrumental skills"--Martin means sampler-
wizards and engineer/poets such as Tricky, Howie B,
jungle producers like Dillinja--"because the sampling and sequencing
programmes available enable them to rampage through the back
catalogue, the canon of past music, and create great things."
Then there's relatively new technology like "hard disk
editing", of which Martin is a big fan: digital software
whereby musical information is chopped up, layered,
rearranged, processed through effects, all within the
"virtual space" of the computer, and to infinitesmal degrees
of intricacy. What "hard disk editing" and
sampling/sequencing programmes like Cubase demonstrate is the
extent to which the techniques of remixology have ceased to
be a supplement to the original act of creativity. For better
or worse, remixology has infected the process of music-making
itself, with the result that there's no longer such a thing
as an 'definitive version' or a primal moment of creation.
It also means that "music has become a science, it's less
instinctive," admits Martin. (The invention of
wordprocessing programs and the PC has had a similar effect on
creative writing).
Ironically, Martin is only just embarking on his first
remix of someone's else music (he's reworked God tracks in
the past). He's doing an Ice remix and Techno-Animal remix
of the Palace single "More Brother Rides", at the invitation
of the band's UK label Domino.
"I'm toying with keeping some elements of the track,
'cos I like it, but it is tempting to obliterate it totally.
I think the Techno-Animal version is going to be more
devastating: I want to make it robotic-sounding, so I'll
probably just keep the vocal and highly process it. With the
Ice remix, I mislaid the instrumental contributions by the
other members of Ice, so--after panicking!-- I pitched down the vocal,
reversed the bass-line and accentuated the rhythm by looping
certain drum-fills. The idea is to turn a very cerebral song
into something more physical and hypnotic. What interests me
about this Palace project is that it's the collision of state-of-art
studio techniques with a simple, heartfelt song grounded in a
rootsy, traditional genre.There's something about Will Oldham's
voice that made me think of roots reggae singer Horace Andy,
and I'm into the idea of playing on that, putting his nasal,
country voice into a post-dub context, framing it with music
that's like a hybrid of Mo' Wax-style trip hop and PiL's "Metal
Box"."
Despite "Macro Dub Infection", Martin doesn't necessarily
agree with Steve Barrow that Jamaica is the absolute and
undisputed origin of remixology. Echo effects were being
explored up by all kinds of artists in the psychedelic era,
from Miles Davis to Yoko Ono and Can. Even before that,
Martin says, the early '60s "English Phil Spector", Joe Meek, "was
doing weird mixes of songs, while Brian Wilson was recording
peculiar alternate takes. It's just that the record companies
wouldn't put them out".
Dub's concept of the "soundclash" does, however,
inform Martin's latest project "Techno-Animal Vs Reality",
which is soon to be recorded for the Mille Plateaux label.
Five guest artists--ambient noir-ist Thomas Koner,
trip-hopper DJ Vadim, Sonic Boom (ex-Spacemen 3, currently of
E.A.R), New York dub collective Word Sound, and ambient-
jungle producers 4 Hero--will supply Martin and his partner
Justin Broadrick with "minimal material". Techno-
Animal will then add rhythm tracks. The results will be
handed back to the guest artist, who will do a final version;
Techno-Animal will also do its own version of each track.
As such, "Techno-Animal Vs Reality" will combine the
antagonistic aspect of "versus" and the collaborative
implications of "meets".
* * * * * *
If remixology and dub-derived studio-as-instrument sorcery
have rejuvenated left-field rock, there are times when you
have to wonder if remix-mania hasn't gone too far. Is there perhaps a
case for a neo-conservative stance on remixing: ie. that it's
time to bring back remixes that enhance the original or bring out
hidden possibilities, rather than dispense with the
blueprint altogether?
As well as being a fad, you also have to wonder if
remixology isn't just a giant scam some of the time. There's
a story, which may or may not be apocryphal, concerning
Richard "Aphex Twin" James--a highly sought-after remixer,
even though he's infamous for obliterative revamps that bear
scant resemblance to the original. Hired by a famous band's
record company to do an overhaul, James
agreed, then promptly forget all about the assignment. On the
appointed day, a courier arrived chez Aphex to pick up the
DAT of the remix. Initially taken aback, James quickly
recovered his composure and scuttled upstairs, rifled through
his massive collection of demos and unfinished tracks, picked
one at random and handed it to the messenger. Band and
record label both professed themselves highly pleased with
his reinterpretation!
True or not, many of Aphex's remixes might as well be
all-new compositions. The scale of devastation is in ratio
to his estimation of the band: Curve and Jesus Jones got
absolutely decimated, Saint Etienne (of whom he said "I
think they're a good pop group but I don't actually like
them, if you know what I mean") got severely mutated, but
Seefeel got loving, respectful treatment. For his gorgeous
remixes on that band's "Time to Find Me", James retained most
of Seefeel's original track, albeit considerably rearranged.
Recently, Aphex Twin has largely dropped out of the
remixing game (although he did rework Gavin Bryars' "The
Sinking of the Titanic", with mixed results). But James'
buddy Luke Vibert, a.k.a. Wagon Christ, has stepped
into the breech, becoming one of the busiest, most in-demand
remixologists of last year. Not only can he dish it out, he can take it too:
witness the brilliant Wagon Christ EP "Redone", which features an extremist jungle
version of one Vibert track by none other than Richard James.
Of all the genres of modern dance, jungle has taken remix-
mania the furthest. As a result, jungle has a fluid, hazy-
round-the-edges notion of authorship. Often, a track will be
popularly attributed to its remixer; generally, remixes are
so dramatically different from the originals that this seems
only just. One example is Omni Trio's "Renegade Snares",
often regarded as a Foul Play track, owing to their remix and
subsequent "VIP" re-remix. Ironically, both versions are
examples of sympathetic remixing at its best: each
dramatically intensifies the thunder'n'joy of the original,
turbo-charging the breakbeats while retaining the tracks'
hooks and melodic refrains, albeit in shuffled order. Appearing live,
Foul Play have also been known to "play" their masterly
remix of Hyper-On Experience's "Lords of the Null Lines" as
if it were their own track (which in a sense, it is).
Jungle has introduced some new twists to remixology.
There's the "VIP Remix" (basically a marketing buzzword), and
there's the sequel, on which the original artist re-
interprets his own work. Metalheads (the name Goldie used to
operate under) put out the "dark-side" classic "Terminator"
in late 1992, then followed it up half-a-year later with
"Terminator II". Such is the track's repute, a full three
years on, that "Terminator 3" is due out any week now,
confusingly released via another alter-ego, Rufige Cru.
Goldie's ally Doc Scott has just done the same thing to his
'92 classic "Here Come The Drumz", which has just been 'resurrected' in the
form of "Drumz '95". Here, the only remnant of the original,
barely recognisable because of the extreme digital processing
bought to bear, is a tiny fragment of Chuck D's vocal:
"drums!".
* * * * * *
Posing questions about authorship and attribution, remixing
also problematises the notion of copyright. If, in the age of
"versus", the remix is tantamount to an all-new track,
why should the original artist get all the royalties? At the
moment, copyright remains with the original artist, and the
remixer gets a flat fee. (Sometimes artists will "swap"
remixes of each others' work). But Kevin Martin says he can
"see it getting to the point where percentage points are
added to the contract, so that the remixer gets royalties.
Then again, in jungle particularly, so much of the 'original'
music is sample-based, that you could argue that neither the
artist nor the remixer are 'creators' in the traditional
sense. It's more the case that both the artist and the
remixer act as 'filters' for a sort of cultural flow".
In this vision, beats and riffs, textures and
atmospherics, circulate in the sort of "data ocean" described
by David Toop in his book "Ocean of Sound: Aether Talk, Ambient
Sound and Imaginary Worlds". Creativity operates on the
macro-level of the entire genre, not the individual artist, a
phenomenon Brian Eno calls "scenius", as opposed to "genius".
The deejay's role in all this is acting as yet another filter
for the information-flow (of course, in jungle and techno, most
"artists" are also professional deejays). The turntable "selector"
constructs the raw material of tracks into a meta-track, a
"journey" for the listener, or, with less propulsive genres
like ambient, an "environment".
"Some deejaying is already live remixing," says Kevin Martin. "Not just in the linking and layering together of different records, but in the use of
effects: deejays have 'kill switches' that can drop out
entire frequencies for periods, and some advanced decks have
sampling equipment with two-second memory and an array of
sonic processes."
In dance cultures like jungle, house and techno, the
"versus" concept is not so important as another dub reggae
term, "version". This was the idea of endlessly re-using the
same drum & bass grooves as the basis for different songs,
so that you'd get entire albums based around a particular
"riddim". In the jungle scene, "version" has gone
haywire, fractal. One particular breakbeat, called "Amen"
because it's taken from a funk track by The Amen Brothers,
has featured in over 2000 tracks and is still being chopped
up and processed. Hundreds of tracks feature an instantly
recognisable hiccup --a sped-up snatch of James Brown yelling
"you're bad, sister!"--as a convulsive percussive tic. A 21st
Century blend of cyber-dub and digi-funk, jungle has set up
an anarcho-communistic free-for-all in which (musical)
property is theft. In this new world order, everybody is
"versioning" everybody else, and music is about the
undeclared war of all "versus" all.
DISCOGRAPHY
'Muziq Vs The Auteurs' (Astralwerks)
Massive Attack V Mad Professor -- 'No Protection' (Circa, UK
import)
King Tubby, The Observer Allstars & The Aggrovators ---'King
Tubby's Special, 1973-1976' (Trojan)
*************************************
Faust -- 'Rien' (Table of the Elements)
John Oswald -- 'Grayfolded' (Swell/Artifact)
Stereolab/Nurse With Wound -- 'Crumb EP' (Duophonic). One
track appears on the Stereolab compilation "Refried
Ectoplasm".
*************************************
'Macro Dub Infection, Volume One' (Caroline)
God-- 'Appeal To Human Greed' (Big Cat)
Techno-Animal --'Babylon Seeker' EP (Blue Angel Records)
---"Renegade Snares (Foul Play VIP Re-Remix)", on Omni Trio's
"Music For The Next Millenium" (Sm:)e Communications)
---"I Seen A Man Die (4 Hero NW2 Gangsta Move)" and "4 Hero
Reinforced", on Scarface's "I Seen A Man Die" EP (Virgin,
import)
---Remixes by Wagon Christ, Autechre, Dr Rockit, Fila
Brazilia and others on DJ Food's "Refried Food" (Ninja Tune)
---Green Velvet "Flash Remixes" (Relief) --- 7 versions total on one double 12 inch pack, and another three versions out in the UK too! Is this a record?
What I think of as the heart-palpitation or cardiac-arrythmia break - the asymmetry in the hi-hats -
is sourced in this track below: at around 16 seconds in the original tempo track, and then the poster has helpfully done a sped-up jungle-tempo version so check it out at 3.40 to really see the connection, and again at 5.45
But what's the source for the Prince Lover Dalu beat? There's 'Think' in there but I'm not sure that is actually where the hi-hat flutter comes from. Possibly it's achieved through retriggering on an MPC.
Twas a genuinely perturbing track to hear the Q-Bassed "Dark Stranger" on the pirates, not for the horror movie elements but the juddery bass and shuddery synths (like a prickle of fear twitching tip-toe up your spine) and above all the heart-skips-a-beat effect, the little jolts in the rhythm. Syncopes is the medical term.
Not sure I ever heard it this in a club. But we did play it in the car when we drove out of Even Furthur in '96 in the grey dawn. It really fit the tired-wired feeling of aftermath.
Put this on the Energy Flash CD - but infuriatingly they gave us the edit version as used on the Drum and Bass Selection 1 comp, instead of full 7 minutes plus terror ride. So just as the awesome drop at around 4.40 is about to yawn chasm-like, the track fades!
Still the palpitation break and the clammy synth and the abyssal bass are present and correct.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^
The Q Bass remix of "The Dark Stranger" is so far above the original, it's befuddling. On the original, the heart-tremor break is there from the start, but it's buried - not made the most of. And then you have the hammy screams. It's the clunkier side of darkcore.
The gap between the original and the remix parallels the improvement in "Lord of the Null Lines" between the Hyper-On Experience original and Foul Play's re-production. Similar sort of romping maximalism that then gets pared down. (Although I do like the original "Null Lines" a lot - a great example of Hyper-On's busy-busy approach to arrangement).
The Origin Unknown remix of "Dark Stranger" is a definite improvement - the jolty hi-hats are starting to take effect, the bass is gloopily doomy. But I could do without the Anthony Hopkins and Gary Oldman vocals.
Johnny Jungle doesn't seem to know what's he about with his version.
So the Q Bass Remix is supreme. And in fact it's only version I ever heard on the pirates. It must count as one of the greatest auto-remixes (Boogie Times Tribe is Q Bass - plus D'Cruze).
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
All the versions plus the flipside(s) "Real Hardcore" in a playlist
Saw this while watching (very belatedly indeed) the Ken Burns Jazz doc.
The section on ragtime in the doc reminded me that the very first single I bought was Scott Joplin's "The Entertainer", when it was issued off the back of The Sting and became a small UK hit.
Retrospectively, whenever this fact swam into memory again, I'd always think it was a bit uncool to have this as your first 7-inch single, given that at the time T.Rex Sweet Bowie etc were at their height while things like "Theme from 'Shaft'" were on the radio (a fave of mine as it happens - the wah-wah always made me think of a helicopter's whirring blades... 9-year-old me had no idea what that sound was - that it even came from a guitar).
But watching the Burns epic, I decided that it was in fact supremely cool and showed a susceptibility to dance rhythm at a tender age - okay, very early 20th Century dance rhythm but still...
As I recall, there were actually two dueling versions of "The Entertainer" released at that time and I might have accidentally bought the less-preferred rendition - not as bright and bouncy. Nowadays there are so many interpretations of Joplins's tunes out there it's hard to know which one to go with (the Rifkind and Strickland recordings seem to be favored by some of those who know). But there are also a bunch of piano roll versions.
It's like the head you have to put on when delving into classical music - like, which pianist's version of Satie's Trois Gymnopedies is the one to go for? Or which conductor's take on the Pastoral Symphony?. The level of variation in feel, attack, tempo, recording ambience, clarity etc is disconcerting for someone who grew up on pop music where there is a Definitive Recording.
Now maybe you'd think that having been through the dance music culture and lived with (indeed reveled in) the whole remix thing, that this would set you up for this approach to listening. But it's different I think - a remix makes all kinds of substantial structural alterations and adds new material, so it is easy to accept a remix as an almost new piece of music - or something that only overlaps in places with the original. But the interpretative element in classical (and this applies in a different way with jazz... and in yet another different way with showbiz's many arrangements and vocalist interpretations vis-a-vis standards) can be disconcerting precisely for being subtler: the notes are exactly the same, the duration of the song is close, the timbre palette doesn't stray much from "piano" (in the case of "The Entertainer"), but somehow that proximity makes you hyper-aware of all those tiny differences in the player's touch and timing, in the recording ambience, that pervade the entire performance. Every note is imbued with this difference.
Perhaps the thing to shed is the idea that you'll find the perfect version of a piece that you prefer to all others, and just enjoy the subtlety of the iterative range.
Yet conversely, a form of variation that I do really enjoy with music is the way a song or album can sound really quite different when heard on different formats, through different playback set-ups. I'll hear different things in a piece heard via streamer on the car stereo, than I do listening to the same streamer but through these computer speakers. Different things again through headphones off an iPod (no really, I still have one, still use it!). And if I happen to have the piece of music on vinyl or CD, there'll be different things again if played on the proper hi-fi with large speakers. We also have a boombox in the kitchen, so sometimes old cassettes get played - another format whose sound properties have a particular appeal.
I suppose the rock-era equivalent to the "many different orchestras / conductors / recording dates" dilemma that you get with navigating classical music recordings, is the wallet-emptying racket that is audiophilia. You can get into comparing all these different remasterings and formats. Rebuying things in the latest remix, or ponying up for one of those half-speed mastering jobs that supposedly pull more information out of the tape and then what was a single album gets turned into 2 x 45rpm platters for the deep-grooved ultra-fidelity that offers. Another sub-game here is hunting down particular back-in-the-day pressings that were legendarily closer to the original tapes, or pressed better quality vinyl. (People even have lore on legendarily superior mastering engineers whose cut is better). Then there's the original mono mixes versus stereo mixes done then versus stereo mixes done today dilemma - yet another game. (The whole business of hi-fi equipment, cartridges, styluses, cables etc is another game altogether, an extra level of complexification and combinational possibiltiies, not to mention wealth-extraction... I hasten to add that I don't actively participate in any of these games, but am fascinated by those who do).
These versions galore are not new renditions in the interpretative sense; the variation happens at the level of the mix and the mastering. The fundamental audio text is stable. The format and version choices are perhaps like trying on different glasses that change how clearly you perceive what is there; they don't change what is there.
Or do they? In rock, pop, etc, the mix is what's there; it's not some transparent overlay extraneous to the music itself. The ranking and distribution of the elements in audio space is inseparable from composition. To make one strand of overdubbed instrumentation peek out more prominently is to change the balance of the constituent elements.
Another analogy: painting restoration. Removing all the discolorant crud off the surface of a painting, the tarnished with age pigment and the adulterants deposited via the atmosphere, this reveals the true colours of the original. But for some viewers, they'd actually loved the semi-obscured image, its atmospheric murkiness; that was the original painting as far as they were concerned.
Certainly there are records that have never sounded quite right when I've heard them later in much superior circumstances than the original hearing / bonding, when it might have been a taped off a friend, or an advance cassette.
probably a nice bit of wedge Liam got for a track he could have done in his sleep, or possibly had lying around anyway and could slot in some stems (never heard the original and have no intention of seeking it out)
but then in the battle of the paydays, it gets decidedly assymetric as Prodge do AON a BIG favor with "Firestarter", where the "hey! hey! hey!" is from "Close (To The Edit)"
As a result the publishing for "Firestarter" is divided between Liam Howlett /Keith Flint /Kim Deal / Anne Dudley /Trevor Horn / J.J. Jeczalik / Gary Langan / Paul Morley
Of course that doesn't mean the publishing is divided equally - but even so, it's a nice thought that a steady flow of royalties (think of the radio play, globally) would be chuntering in to Ann D and Paul M et al for years to come
Kim Deal too for the riffage nicked from this Breeders tune
Sometimes I think I got involved in the wrong end of this business! I have no tunes in me but I could have / should have hooked myself up with some genius hitmaker and done the lyric.
Mind you, most musicians, it's a pathway to penury.
Still, there is always that hope, that dream, that chance of scoring the one big smash, a radio regular in perpetuity
I read somewhere that the woman who co-wrote the lyric for "Don't Fear the Reaper" received a check for 50 grand a year for decades, it being such a classic rock staple
(However, checking now, it appears Buck Dharma wrote the words and music on his tod. However on the single of "Don't Fear", the B-side "Tattoo Vampire" has a contribution from someone called Helen Robbins. And given that the B-side gets 50 percent of a single's proceeds - she would have made some dough there. But it wouldn't be an annual harvest, given nobody plays the B-side.
In America (I think I've got this straight) radio plays remunerate to the writers of the song (and the song publisher), but not to the performers who recorded it. So nobody else who played on the record gets a dime, no matter how often it gets played. That seems extremely unfair. Think of all the pleasure - one example out of countless - the drummer in the Steve Miller Band has given me and millions. He should have a river of dosh irrigating his bank account in perpetuity.
(In the UK, the writers and the performers both get paid per radio spin, I believe. Much more equitable).
(In the US system, does the orientation towards songwriters and songpublishing company, again mean that the record company - who put out the record, developed the artist, promoted etc etc - gets nothing from radio play? Again, that seems unfair. How did this way of do things ever get set up?)
(What about MTV etc - does anyone get paid when a video gets played, or are they supposed to be grateful for the promotion? Talking back in the day, obviously - MTV should be renamed TV without the M given how it's dispensed with the music bit)
Wondrous epic mix project here from Selectabwoy. Four mixes + a bonus mix makes five, corralling almost everything Moving Shadow compatriots / allies Omni Trio and Foul Play touched during their extended '90s peak. Original tracks (A-sides, B-sides, tucked-away EP gems). Remixes they did of each other's tracks. Remixes they did of other artists's tracks. Remixes others artists did of their tracks. Pearls expertly strung together, brimming shimmering raptures intensified with artful transitions and overlays.
Simply put - the Finest Music of the '90s, all there for the downloading and delectation.
Here's the tracklist (including a few things I'd somehow never heard)
SIDE A
Foul Play - Open Your Mind (Foul Play Remix)
Omni Trio - Feel Good (Original In Demand Mix)
Foul Play - Dubbing You
Omni Trio - Renegade Snares (Foul Play Remix)
Foul Play - Survival
Omni Trio - Original Soundtrack
Foul Play - Murder Most Foul
Haute Control - Future Stylin'
Foul Play - Screwface
Omni Trio - Stronger
4 Horsemen Of The Apocalypse - We Are The Future
Omni Trio - Mainline
Foul Play - Feel The Vibe (Again)
Splice - Falling (In Dub)
Foul Play - Finest Illusion (Illegal Mix)
Omni Trio - Step Off (Gold Blend Mix)
SIDE B
Omni Trio - Nu Grooves '94
Foul Play - Strung Out
Omni Trio - Rollin' Heights
4 Horsemen Of The Apocalypse - Drowning In Her (Phantasy & Aphrodite Remix)
Foul Play - Total Control (Origin Unknown Remix)
Omni Trio - Renegade Snares (Foul Play VIP Remix)
Omni Trio - Thru The Vibe (Bongo Mix)
Foul Play - Ignorance
Foul Play - Chrysalis
Omni Trio - Living For The Future (FBD Project Remix)
Omni Trio - Soul Promenade
Omni Trio - Feel Good '95
Foul Play - Being With You (E-Z Rollers Remix)
Foul Play - Cuttin' Loose
SIDE C
Haute Control - Dream Series (Volume 1)
Splice - Hold Me
Foul Play - The Alchemist
4 Horsemen Of The Apocalypse - We Are The Future (Darren Jay Mix)
Omni Trio - Feel Better (Foul Play Remix)
Splice - Bus In (Strawberries)
Foul Play - Dub In U (Remix)
Foul Play - Ragatere
Foul Play - Open Your Mind (Nookie Remix)
Foul Play - Survival (Remix)
Foul Play - Ricochet (No Stopping The Remix)
Omni Trio - Future Frontier
Bug Kann & The Plastic Jam - Made In Two Minutes (Foul Play Remix)
Haute Control - Drum & Bass Collision
Omni Trio - Renegade Snares (Original Mix)
SIDE D
Nookie - The Sound Of Music (Foul Play Remix)
Omni Trio - Be There
The Terrorist - Sing Time (Foul Play Remix)
Omni Trio - Nu Grooves '94 (Deep Blue Remix)
Foul Play - Karma Pt. 2
Foul Play - Being With You (Foul Play Remix)
Foul Play - Being With You (Van Kleef Remix)
Omni Trio - Soul Freestyle
Omni Trio - Ghost Rider
E-Z Rollers - Believe (Foul Play Remix)
Omni Trio - Renegade Snares (Rob's Reconstruction Mix)
Omni Trio - Soul Of Darkness (Promenade '96 Rollout)
DJ Pulse - So Fine (Omni Trio Remix)
Foul Play - The Stepper (Remix)
Omni Trio - Torn
BONUS MIX
Foul Play - Artificial Intelligence
London Steppers - Nu Grooves
Omni Trio - London Step
Foul Play - Beats Track
DJ Pulse - Stay Calm (Foul Play Remix)
Hyper On Experience - Lord Of The Null Lines (Foul Play & Randall Remix)
Omni Trio - Shadowplay
Omni Trio - Rollin' Heights (More Strings Attached Mix)
Omni Trio - Soul Promenade (Nookie Remix)
Omni Trio - Living For The Future (FBD Project VIP Remix)
Foul Play - Being With You
Foul Play - Cuttin' Loose (Remix)
Foul Play - Re-Open Your Mind '95
4 Horsemen Of The Apocalypse - We Are The Future (Two Dreads In A Dub Mix)
4 Horsemen Of The Apocalypse - Drowning In Her (4 Horsemen Mix)
One of the greatest of the Foul Play remixes - with an almost Mover-like sculpted-swoop of a stab bringing in a nice'n'doomy gloomcore-ish feel. Gorgeous psychedelic-smeared drums.
The original's triffic too but the Foul Play boys really take it to another level
I think Foul Play "played" this remix live at their Voodoo Magic PA in 1994. I know they played the rmx of "Lord of the Null Lines".
What's the flipside like?
Well the internet doesn't have "Warning" , the original's flipside, but it does have the flipside to the FPrmx of "Stay Calm"
And it's widescreen, glistening, Omni Trio-ish stuff. Nice. Warning signs perhaps of too much smoovness to come.
Funnily there's an Omni rmx
Another back in the day remix of "Stay Calm" with a bit too much of that reverb-clangy metallicized / scuttling percussion sound that came in during the prissy-ification later days of D&B. Fine but that had a real challenge trying to out-match Foul Play's definitive retake.
His mention of MBV (specifically the bonus single instrumental with Isn't Anything - breakbeat overlaid with ghostly wavering) and A.R. Kane's "A Love From Outer Space" reminded me that the precursors to shoegaze had dancey moments.
Well, there was M.A.R.R.S. obviously....
But A.R. Kane did a one-off single as A R K that was their stab at house
Possibly motivated by desire to prove that they'd contributed more to "Pump Up The Volume" than a coloursplash of guitar? Or perhaps to show that they could do full-on dance music if they wanted to....
Comrade Oldfield oversells the side project a little bit in this 1988 Singles Page.
Paul makes it sound a bit more enthralling and achieved than it actually is. But that's how we rolled in those days ("inflation of meaning" yunno). This review is an example of what one Melody Maker editor teasingly referred to as the National Geographic school of reviewing then prevalent at the paper (at least, with my crew). Moraines, escarpments, that kind of thing...
Rudi and Alex had already showed their dancey tendencies on the flipside of "Pump Up the Volume" with this beauty, to which Colorbox lads contributed only a bit of drum programming.
A remix I have no recollection of ever hearing.
Then, as referenced by Cardross with "A Love From Outer Space", there were several boppy tunes on i.
"Crack Up" was a favorite.
Another vaguely housey chugger
There was even a remixes mini-LP or maxi-EP in 1990 - the typographically clever Rem'i'xes
Several of the remixes - "Miles Apart", "Crack Up", and "Crack Up (Space Mix)" - were actually done by Robin Guthrie. But they don't seem to be available on YouTube.