Royksopp Live: Everything is beautiful
The rather lacklustre intro of “Royksopp Forever” with its unintentionally distorted bass and plodding rhythm was soon banished by “Happy Up Here” (once someone remembered to turn Karin’s microphone on) and a string of high energy tracks built the crowd into the frenzy that was “Poor Leno”. My clothes shook with the bass, my face had a big grin and I remembered how good electronic dance music can make you feel.
Rather than just play the majority of their tracks in their album form they chose to play remixed and altered versions which were, in the main, far superior in the live context. Despite the inaudible bass guitarist (who couldn’t help himself and proceeded to prance around the stage in typical rock n’ roll fashion) they were the personification of cool stood behind their synths and decks with broad smiles that said they were as happy to be there as we were.
My happiness was further enhanced by the fact that Royksopp have by far the most beautiful female fans of any band I have ever been to see. A beautiful evening indeed.
Radio daze
Propaganda ‘Duel’
An instrumental section of this song was used as the music for TV coverage of the British Rally for many years on BBC television and I heard it on the radio a few times in my youth. Remembering only a few of the lyrics made the track impossible to pin down. Yet I loved it. One of my primary goals when I first became plugged into the web was to find this song.
Eric Clapton ‘Behind the mask’
This one came as a surprise when I finally found out who was singing ‘Who do you love? Is it me babe?’ It was an even bigger surprise to find it was a superior cover version of a song by the Japanese synth pioneers Yellow Magic Orchestra.
Deee-Lite ‘What is Love?’
When I heard this track on the radio, I was immediately struck by its obvious Kraftwerk influence. Yet I had no idea who the track was by for a few years (in retrospect the lyric ‘How do you say Deee-Lite?’ should have told me really). This track was a double A side with ‘Groove is in the Heart’ in the UK but was ignored by almost everyone.
Wax ‘Building a bridge to your heart’
I actually knew who recorded this track but was unable to get hold of it until the internet came along. In my youth I had a cassette with a recording of this song from the radio; complete with the ubiquitous over compression added by FM radio broadcasters. In the heady days of Napster I downloaded this one.
This subject popped into my head the other day following a seemingly meaningless series of actions: I was listening to a radio show a few days after it had originally been broadcast via the internet. I heard a song I liked. I checked in the play list on the website and proceeded to amazon.co.uk and bought the track. Within a minute I had my own copy of the song. Doesn’t sound too exciting does it? Yet when I consider this in the context of the years I spent not knowing who created some of my favourite, barely heard tracks, I feel very grateful for the internet.
Basement Jaxx "Scars"
To add to the pain, only reverence for their previous efforts seems to have stopped critics from completely mauling their latest album. Critical assessment of “Scars” in the music press varies slightly, but nothing I have read credits it with anything other than a mediocre score. Personally I think “Scars” is better than the lacklustre “Crazy Itch Radio” musically and is more reminiscent of the magnificent “Rooty” in feel. “Feelings Gone” and “Raindrops” are particular favourites of mine.
However, none of this is of consequence when compared to the packaging of the CD. Presented in a folding card slipcase, the leaves are sealed with a sticker that appears to have been designed to be impossible to remove. Stuck down with a kind of Martian Super Glue, this sticker steadfastly refuses to lift without taking most of the sleeve with it. Presumably it is designed to leave ‘scars’ on the sleeve making each copy unique, but ultimately ruined. This sticker is almost as annoying as the seals American import CD’s come with. Anyone who has tried to open an American pressed CD will know the annoyance of the seal running across the top of the jewel box that takes forever to remove and will always leave its sticky residue behind. Just stop doing it! No wonder people buy so many downloads.
A week of remixes
The last week of listening has highlighted the difference between the old ‘extended’ remixes of the eighties and their modern counterparts. The “Big Train” remix of Erasure’s single “A Little Respect” is a good illustration of these differences. Yes, the snare is different and the songs structure has been altered, but essentially the “Big Train Remix” amounts to just a different mix of the original material. The verb ‘remix’ is defined as “to change the relative prominence of each performer’s part of (a recording).” What defines these brilliant mixes of the 1980’s and early 1990’s is that they use the source material to generate a new version of a recording.
However, in recent years, remixing seems to have become something entirely different to some people. Artists such as The Orb, Aphex Twin and Underworld have contributed remixes that bear little resemblance to the source material. The popularity of the Depeche Mode song “Barrel of a Gun” from 1997 was enhanced by one mix in particular. The “Underworld Hard Mix” began to receive considerable club play on both sides of the Atlantic much to the mystification of the man who wrote the song, Martin Gore: “The original version of “Barrel of a Gun” was about 83 beats per minute. When we receive the “Hard Mix” back from them, we were sitting there thinking: what relevance does this speed bare to ours?” Gore later telephoned members of Underworld and asked, “Is there any chance you can fly some vocals in? Just so it has some relevance. Because there is not one sound of the original version on there?” Gore summarised the remix as: “Different key, different speed, different song!”
Sometimes you would be hard pressed to identify the original song from many contemporary remixes. Does anyone actually enjoy this stuff? With the exception of the remix of “Barrel of a Gun” mentioned here; I don’t know of any of this type of ‘remix’ as being popular with listeners. I don’t even like the Underworld remix of “Barrel of a Gun”. One of the biggest criticism I see aimed at remixes is that they are uninteresting and do not add anything to the original. Those of us who enjoy GOOD remixes know just how much difference a remix can make and equally abhor those mixes that bare no resemblance to the original. Some remixers would be better served by noting the definition of what a remix is, and if they do not like the source material, they should turn down the job. Please save me ear drums from the likes of “Liberation (E-smoove 12” Mix)” or “Sentinel (The Orb 7” Remix)”. Please.
All the sounds of the Fairlight CMI in one CD
The whole album is created on the Fairlight CMI and sounds like a cross between The Art of Noise, Thomas Dolby and Peter Gabriel with a bit of pop thrown in for good measure. The samples Leer uses are lo-fi 8 bit crunchy brilliance that could only come from a Fairlight. As the album unfolds some classic Fairlight presets are thrown in with some futher creative sampling to add the magic. This is the album I always wanted to hear the Fairlight produce.
For the ridiculously low price of £4.98 you can buy a CD that shows of an electronic ‘instrument’ like no other. Yes, Mr Leer has a good voice, and some of his songs are really quite brilliant, but the fascination for me is hearing a Fairlight used imaginatively. Sure Jarre, Kate Bush, Peter Gabriel et al used the Fairlight to great effect but rarely in such isolation. If you wish to hear this machine in its full glory these is no better place to start.
DJ Culture: a hidden gem?
Brian Higgins and the hit factor
The best evidence for Higgins’s true personality lies with the other acts with which he has worked. Sam Sparro says of his failed collaboration: “I did meet Brian Higgins but he, er, I can’t really comment on that. He’s a strong personality.”
Referring to another failed collaboration (I strongly suspect that here he is referring to his work on New Order’s “Waiting for the Siren’s Call”) Higgins states: “I’ve had the experience happen where the big artists were fine until they got into the mix room and they basically pulled the record to pieces. So I took my name off the record and the writing credits off the record. So big artists are often jerks of the highest order.”
Okay so you can’t hope to be best friends with everyone you work with, but Higgins does seem to have a habit of upsetting people. The name "Xenomania" means, according to Higgins, "the exact opposite of Xenophobia...a love of everything, of all cultures." Quite how one reconciles this philosophy with Higgins statement that “We’re Xenomania, so fuck you!” I do not know.
You can’t deny Higgins and Xenomania ARE very good at what they do. However, Higgins’swords seem to dismiss any other type of song writing other that the chart fodder they specialise in. There is a whole world of music out there and the vast majority of it is far more interesting, innovative and successful than Xenomania’s output. Higgins’s should be more conscious of this if he does not wish to sound quite so arrogant.
Yet there is a considerable amount of sense in Higgins evaluation of the Pet Shop Boys and their music. His feeling that they had not made a decent record since 1988 or 1989 is obviously complete rubbish; yet his assessment of “I think the rhythm programming had gone” and that they became self indulgent and used their music to chronicle their personal lives does hold water.
The proof of the pudding is in the eating and ‘Yes’, as I have already stated, is a brilliant record. I guess when considering working with Xenomania one has to undertake a risk benefit analysis. Will the final product justify the process? Can you endure a personality as strong as Brian Higgins? If you want a brilliant pop record then the answer has to be Yes.