album review: 'flatland' by objekt

Well, I didn't expect I'd manage to get this done before heading out, but what do you know?

Okay, next up... hell, not sure, depends which backlog I break through first. Stay tuned!

album review: 'flatland' by objekt

We return to my ongoing adventure into electronic music. 

Now one of the biggest conversations of this year has surrounded where electronic music is going. The EDM scene is officially mainstream, hip-hop producers are pushing boundaries for weirder and more experimental beats, often drawing upon the ground many electronic producers helped level, and some of the legends of the industry have taken steps to crystallize their own sound. Aphex Twin returned after years of working under other names to the sounds he helped define, Brian Eno worked with Karl Hyde on two wildly different records, and across the industry we've seen producers either drift towards modern popular trends or drag the mainstream kicking and screaming into all sorts of weirdness. For me as something of an outsider to the genre, it's been fascinating to watch, even if I'm not sure how long it will remain popular in the long term.

So I figured I'd dip back into that wretched hive of scum and villainy - and by that I mean Pitchfork - and find a record to really challenge myself, and that's where I came across Objekt. Stage name of German producer TJ Hertz, he began making serious buzz when he started releasing singles around 2011, not so much renowned for melodic construction but for phenomenal mix balance, depth, and texture. And what immediately gripped me by singles like 'Tinderbox' was the sense of contrast: there was a warmth to the crackle of the mix and the percussion that belied the echoing chilly synthesizer leads and samples and the thick swell of the bass. It felt organic and yet almost clinically measured, and it was compelling enough that I had to check out his debut album Flatland. What did we get?

video review: 'syro' by aphex twin

Well, this took a while to get done, and I can't imagine it'll go over without controversy, but I'm happy I finally got to it.

Next up is Iceage, so stay tuned!

album review: 'syro' by aphex twin

I've written in the past that it's hard to discuss legends. Especially legends that have come to shape so much of modern music to the point where some critics describe revisiting their old classics as 'vintage'. And for me personally, it's even harder when the genre is electronica, an musical genre that I'm only beginning to peel into in any significant way outside of specific offshoots like trance. To go back to the source is more than a little intimidating, especially if you have the uneasy feeling that a mob with pitchforks and torches will set you on fire if you don't throw out critical acclaim.

So on that oh-so-comforting note... Aphex Twin. The stage name of the man with three first names Richard David James who used the Aphex Twin name among several others, his first release was a compilation of ambient mixes he had recorded from '85 to '92 - and surprise surprise, it's excellent. Even though on that album you can hear the sounds that would come to dominate so much of modern music, Aphex Twin had the twin advantages of good melody and even better texture, taking sounds that might be considered 'vintage' now and still crafting memorable and potent songs. And yet with Selected Ambient Works Volume II, some of that texture evaporated into a set of sparse, underweight and underwritten melodies that lacked presence even for ambient music and went on a good ninety minutes longer than they should have, even though it did get a fair bit better in its second half. Fortunately, that texture came back for 1995's ...I Care Because You Do and especially for the spiky yet beautifully melodic 1996 Richard D. James Album, a record that even today has a decidedly unique sound with the blend of strings, slightly off-kilter synth tones, and drill-like percussion, and has held up incredibly well. 

Then came 2001's Drukqs... and here's the thing, I'd argue about half of that double album works incredibly well - experimental, drill & bass inspired production that holds up as innovative even today, and there are some phenomenal melodies that are utilized across that record that I really love. But there are also more tracks that go on longer than they should and the harpsichord interludes really did wear out some of their welcome. And from there, James decided to take a long break from using the Aphex Twin moniker until a Kickstarter campaign to reclaim the old, unreleased record Caustic Window from a record collector showed a great deal of popular interest still in his work. And to some extent that catalyzing incident is important, and was indicative of what might be on the record - we probably weren't going to be getting the insane, eclectic experimentation, but a piece that was sure to be a crowdpleaser for long-time Aphex Twin fans. Did we get that?

album review: 'shaking the habitual' by the knife (RETRO REVIEW)

Consider, if you will, minimalism.

Now you might think, with my general appreciation for acts like Meat Loaf and Nightwish and Blind Guardian and The Killers and Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, that I tend to favour music that's overblown, overwrought, and generally made with a larger 'scope' in mind. And I won't lie that I do like songs in this vein more often than not - hell, I'll give a pass to Andrew W.K. for his maximalist aesthetic, even though his lyrics tend to have less substance than an empty bucket made of air. And it's not surprising that a lot of critics tend to snub acts that go for broke with a lack of abandon and complete sincerity - these acts are often deemed lowbrow or pandering to baser sensibilities. And sure, in some cases that is definitely the case, but I'd argue there's a method to writing that hyperbolic material well (the difference, for example, between Fall Out Boy's Folie A Deux and their newest album Save Rock and Roll, an album I like less and less as a cohesive whole every time I listen to it).

Likewise, minimalism often shares a similar differentiation of quality, but the distinction of being able to accomplish this aesthetic is a little subtler than its louder counterpart (the line of sincerity tends to be more sharply defined at higher volumes). Minimalism typically works through reduction, scaling back certain elements in order to draw attention and emphasis to others, or in order to create an atmosphere of emptiness and space. One of the reasons Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds succeeded so brilliantly this year with Push The Sky Away is because he utilized the minimalist style to both create a foreboding, expansive atmosphere and to draw attention to the oblique lyrics. It was no surprise that some critics panned the album in response, especially considering Nick Cave spent so much of his career overwhelming the senses that people considered his brand of minimalism dull. In other words, they completely missed the point.

Now that's not to say minimalism can't be done badly. On the contrary, it can be argued that minimalist efforts often have a much greater chance of failure than those that simply choose to go for broke on all cylinders. I've spoken before of my distaste for music in the 'white guy with acoustic guitar' or 'white chick with piano' vein, and their poor usage of minimalism is often the reason why. In choosing to pull back and limit their instrumentation, they draw much tighter attention to the singer and the lyrics, and the swathe of trite, pretentious garbage that spews forth is evidence enough that these singer-songwriters just don't have anything worth saying. 

And more often than not, too much minimalist material fails simply because the musical atmosphere lacks texture and thus gets very boring very fast. Let's take James Blake's Overgrown as an example where the minimalism worked - but it only worked because Blake's careful control of the atmosphere and soulful delivery nailed the tricky balance between atmospheric and intimate. And it's a tough balance to nail - I can think of more than a few albums that don't manage to hit that sweet spot, particularly in electronica and modern hip-hop. 

So with all of that in mind, let's talk about the Swedish electronica duo The Knife, a band that takes electronic minimalism and turns it into something else entirely.

Now I'll admit right out of the gate that The Knife had a bit of a steep road to climb with me, as electronica acts (particularly those heralded by Pitchfork and music critics and pretty much only them) that tend towards tight, carefully positioned beats aren't normally my thing. And coupled with Karin Dreijer Andersson's borderline intolerable singing (she reminds me of a cross between Joanna Newsom and a screechier Tegan Quin) and the duo's tendency towards oblique, barely comprehensible lyrics, I was fairly certain this band would wear out their welcome faster than ever. And really, if I was looking to find a band with little-to-no mainstream appeal, the kind that would brand me as a hipster instantly upon mention, The Knife would leap to the top of my list. They certainly weren't doing anything to make themselves accessible or radio-friendly, that's for damn sure.

And yet, going through their discography (particularly their 2006 album Silent Shout), I started to understand the appeal of The Knife. Despite the clipped, clattering beats at the very top of the mix, the band had an expansive sound that sucked me in more often than not. The juxtaposition between Andersson's vocals and those her partner Olof Dreijer's did a fair amount to win me over (although the occasionally off-tune screeching got intolerable more than once). But what ultimately won me over were the lyrics - there's a real bleak darkness and unsettling atmosphere to their poetry that has flavour and real personality, and while I wouldn't call them technically strong lyricists, they are smart enough to convey some potent material. Yes, they've made mistakes - sometimes big ones - but overall, their good material has tended to outweigh the bad (with 'Marble House' being the immediately recognizable standout from Silent Shout and a goddamn impressive song).

So when I heard that the act was, again, accruing critical acclaim from critics and Pitchfork alike for their new album, I was interested. After numerous solo ventures, The Knife had finally reunited for their first venture on their own in seven years. How did it turn out?

Youtube review after the jump