The Slits – In The Beginning There Was Rhythm (1980)
At the age of 15, Neneh Cherry was introduced to seminal feminist Post Punk group The Slits by her stepfather Don Cherry, and joined them for a brief period, providing backing vocals on several tracks, including this one. The Slits were integral to the early days of UK’s Punk scene, but they quickly became musically adventurous beyond that and incredibly funky as well, further aided by producer Dennis Bovell’s dub expertise. Edginess was rarely as charming, but The Slits had loads of attitude to boot. One can assume that Neneh Cherry took her clues from the experience.
Rip, Rig & Panic – Those Eskimo Women Speak Frankly (1981)
The next band Cherry joined was a Bristol collective that included two members of the legendary Pop Group. Their music was a feverish mix of Punk Funk, avantgarde elements and Jazz. As with The Slits, Don Cherry was a collaborator, but his stepdaughter was more to the core, switching to lead vocals and displaying the mixture of charismatic Soul and Rap stylings that would make her famous later on. But before that, Neneh Cherry briefly retired to become a young mother, and the band fell apart. In 1983 the band reformed with Neneh Cherry under the name Float Up CP, and released one album, then fell apart again. But if you find a band in those years with a constant line-up, it might have been dull anyway. Rip Rig & Panic sure were not.
Raw Sex, Pure Energy – Give Sheep A Chance (1982)
After collaborating with On-U Sound’s mighty New Age Steppers, Cherry teamed up with its bass guitarist George Oban and the drummer of 70s Fusion Jazz band Karma, Joe Blocker. They covered Edwin Starr’s Motown standard „Stop The War Now“ in reaction to the Falklands War, and „Give Sheep A Chance“ is its wonderful icy computerized dub version on the flip, sheep noises included. In the years leading up to the next entry, Neneh Cherry also became a pirate radio DJ, danced in a Big Audio Dynamite video, and duetted marvellously on The The’s „Slow Train To Dawn“.
Neneh Cherry – Buffalo Stance (1988)
Neneh Cherry, the pop star. Seven months pregnant with her second child but rampant with energy, she performed this ever infectious song on Top Of The Pops and stormed the top ten. „Buffalo Stance“ was referencing Malcolm McLaren’s Gals, stylist Ray Petri’s fashionable collective, and was in fact a cover version of a Stock, Aitken & Waterman produced single by her future husband Cameron McVey from two years earlier, where she already rapped about „Looking Good Diving With The Wild Bunch“ on the B-side. And the famed Bristol sound system was indeed involved with the accompanying „Raw Like Sushi“ solo debut album, as were McVey and Tim Simenon of Bomb The Bass fame at the controls. In 1988 Hip Hop and House still looked at each other and the UK club scene was vibrant, as documented by magazines like I-D, The Face and Blitz. Neneh Cherry was styled by Judy Blame and photographed by Jena-Baptiste Mondino rather iconically, but underlying were lyrics that dissed gigolos and moneymen and celebrated female self-esteem. So don’t you get fresh with her!
Neneh Cherry – Manchild (1988)
Neneh Cherry telling the boys some more news (albeit with a bit more sympathy), in a fantastic downtempo song co-written by Cameron McVey and Robert Del Naja AKA 3D of The Wild Bunch, and soon-to-be Massive Attack (fellow member of both Mushroom provided a booming remix). In the rather weird video she proudly sports her now born second child Tyson and a further refined fly girl outfit with a pair of cycle shorts that were de rigeur in 1989. Ok, men mostly wore the matching cycle tops. The „cause I believe in miracles, words in heavy doses“ ending still rules supreme.
Neneh Cherry – I’ve Got You Under My Skin (1990)
This a contribution to „Red, Hot & Blue“, an AIDS charity compilation on which several artists covered Cole Porter songs. AIDS was still spreading fast, and given the topic the title is very well picked, with Neneh Cherry rapping an introduction that makes it very clear that it is not only love creeping through the body, but also very lethal disease. The heavy and brooding downbeat groove already foreshadows Massive Attack’s „Blue Lines“ album, to which she would also contribute. The video by Mondino is appropriately dark, without any misplaced pretensions. „Share the love, don’t share the needle“, it ends.
Neneh Cherry – Buddy X (1992)
Lifted from her second album „Homebrew“, Cherry again adresses men that like to play around, wrapping her criticism of male hypocrisy and infidelity with fetching Hip Hop pressure. The song still features prominently in club playlists due to its Class A Masters At Works remixes. At the height of their powers they apply their raw swing to a groove that most successfully merges Hip Hop and House sophistication, without ever distracting from the message. Deadly dubs, too.
Youssou N’Dour & Neneh Cherry – 7 Seconds (1994)
Neneh Cherry collaborates with the famous Senegalese singer for a moving celebration of humanity without prejudice. By then the combination of a downbeat and dramatic strings had almost become stereotypical, but the trilingual „7 Seconds“ still proves why it became so efficient in the first place. First, you need a good song. Second, you need good performers. Third, you will see that the tried and tested arrangement will even up the ante. The stylish monochromatic video was directed by Stéphane Sednaoui, and it works.
Neneh Cherry & The Thing – Dream Baby Dream (2012)
Neneh Cherry works with a Scandinavian Jazz trio that named itself after her stepfather. She was a longtime Scandinavian resident and Jazz has a healthy tradition there, it should not have come as a surprise. But after a long hiatus from recording music, it was. The resulting album consisted mainly of well chosen cover versions that seem to stand for Cherry’s whole life in music. They are interpreted quite freely, and Cherry still delivers. Take her version of Suicide’s No Wave classic „Dream Baby Dream“ for example. In my ears it rather sounds like her very early days than former pop star croons the standards for Christmas.
Neneh Cherry – Everything (2014)
The overdue comeback as solo performer, with an album of material that mourns the death of her mother in 2009. Four Tet is at the helm, and his sparse production focusses on rhythmic textures and subtle electronic arrangements, performed by Rocketnumbernine. The album decidedly neglects pop obligations and Neneh Cherry is evidently very motivated, and even if her songs here are very personal, they sure are engaging as well. The remixers on duty for „Everything“, Ricardo Villalobos and Max Loderbauer, must have agreed, as they already let the song seep into their trademark Micro House jam setup after only two and a half minutes.
In discussion with Aiden d’Araujo on “Rhythm Zone Vol. 1” (1989).
You chose the cassette compilation “Rhythm Zone Vol. 1“. A format that in the 80s was probably still more common for discovering new music than its according CD counterparts. Were you taping radio at a young age, and was this your first foray into purchasing what already had caught your interest?
Yeah taping radio shows was a ritual when I was a kid – got that off my Mum who would tape mixes religiously. In the early nineties around ’92/’93 we had a studio in the loft with loads of gear like Junos and Rolands. The two guys who had the studio (you may have heard one of them under his Deadly Avenger alias who released the ‘Deep Red’ LP and now scores Hollywood films) lodged with us and I remember like it was just yesterday all the trippy, ambient electronica comin’ outta the studio – I would say reminiscent of acts like the Future Sound Of London. No doubt this influenced my Mum and she amassed a series of tapes that had early electronic auteurs on then such as Pete Namlook, Move D and Biosphere (she’s still got ’em!) whose nocturnal opus ‘Novelty Waves’ never fails to transport me straight to my childhood – you remember that iconic Levi’s advert featuring the steam train with that track on it right? Anyway, all these deep as the ocean odysseys would be the soundtrack to when I went to sleep. Warp’s ‘Artificial Intellgience’ comp was another fave, and I’d always be messin’ around with the FM dial to try scope out some more otherworldly obscurities…
Another interesting development was one of my Mum’s mates who when not spraying murals (he was and still is a revered graffitti artist who very kindly sprayed the House Hunting mural for me) would host shows on Birmingham-based pirate radio station Mix FM which he would sometimes transmit from our attic. This would be my introduction to Hip Hop – whether the Britcore of Gunshot and London Posse, West Coast flavour of Snoop Dogg and Souls Of Mischief or the politically-charged Public Enemy and ghetto rap of Biggie and Wu-Tang. GZA’s ‘Liquid Swords’ and Souls Of Mischief’s ’93 Til Infinity’ always on rotation must have proper wore those tapes out on my Walkman. As well as Hip Hop on Mix FM there would be some Soul, Funk, Disco, Electro and House – which when you’re 8 years old listening to all this was a pure mind trip…
So I didn’t really need to buy tapes as there were so many avenues where I was exposed to it. Another influence was my Dad who was split from my Mum so I would stay at his on weekends 10 mile up the road in Leicester. He was in a band that covered a lot of Rock and Blues classics who were a bit of a hit in the mid-nineties with loads of bookings all over The Midlands. Anyway Leicester has a big Afro-Caribbean community and every year hosts the Leicester carnival (second only to Notting Hill in size and scope) with Aba-Shanti representing so Dub and Reggae was also the sound of my Dad’s household – he loves all the Rhythm & Sound albums I’ve got him!
Did you try several compilations and this was the one you liked best, or was this the only one at first, and by coincidence it was also the best choice to get introduced to the US import dance music styles it showcased?
This was the first I bought and I remember clocking the naff early 90s trippy artwork complete with the tag line “A galaxy of imports for under a fiver”. It was a quid so had to be copped – I thought it may be like the deep trips on my Mum’s armada of ambient tapes. It was pure coincidence that the first one I got was the best introduction to Chicago House, Detroit Techno and New York Garage. Not long after I bought ‘The Rave Gener8tor II’ tape where again the cover art enticed me and had some choice cuts on it like the Underground Resistance remix of ‘The Colour Of Love’ by The Reese Project and some Murk flavour via Liberty City’s ‘Some Lovin’. There were only a few decent tracks on this one though as was on a more hardcore tip which I weren’t feelin’ as much. Always went back to ‘Rhythm Zone Vol. 1’. Read the rest of this entry »
For many years it almost seemed as if Patrick Cowley appeared from nowhere, then achieved a stellar career in music in the brief period of only a few years, tragically cut short when he passed away due to AIDS, only 32 years old. There must be millions who danced or listened to his music, and he was most deservedly hailed as one of the most important artists in the history of club music ever since. Still, Patrick Cowley the person remained strangely unexplored. There were countless entries in books and websites specializing on Disco, yet they all used the same few photographs of him, and the same scarce biographical details. There were no interviews, no friends and collaborators were asked to tell stories. He dropped his musical vision, which was way ahead of its time, arguably still is, leaving only speculation as to what might have been, and where it actually came from.
Admittedly it was not that easy to find out when it actually happened, pre-internet, but when his fame as the synth wizard in the aftermath of the classic Disco era skyrocketed in the early 80s, he was also producing the first album by Indoor Life, the band of his friend Jorge Socarras. It was not music destined to shine under the glistening mirror balls of the hedonistic palaces of that time, it was dark and edgy. It was more Post Punk than Disco. Wait, I meant New Wave, nobody said Post Punk then. By all means it should have been proof enough that there was more to Patrick Cowley than the music he became famous for. Read the rest of this entry »
In discussion with Roual Galloway on “Garageland” by the Clash (1977)
So what was your first encounter with ‚Garageland‘? Listening to the radio as a teenager?
I got a copy of the first Clash album in 1979 from a record shop in Edinburgh called GI Records, aged 11. My dad had done some work for the owner and payment was made to him in vinyl. Which meant that my sisters and I all had three records each to choose from the stock. I can’t remember what my sisters chose, but the three I selected were The Ramones “It’s Alive,“ The Skids „Scared To Dance,“ and the self titled Clash album. At the time we lived in a Scottish newtown called Livingston. In later life you realise that all newtowns are built in three stages, which are in the following order of building houses, attracting people and offering jobs. We moved there in ‘78 in between stage 1 and stage 2. This meant that unemployment was high and the youth were left disenfranchised. Like most newtowns it was badly designed and architecturally awash with concrete grey. Punk seemed like a natural rebellion against the injustices imposed on the youth of Livingston and had a massive following there. A local punk band called On Parole used to cover it and I suppose it became ingrained in my consciousness from that. I saw them live for the first time in 1979. I’ve always liked the sentiments of the lyrics, of standing up against selling out and of doing things for yourself.
Have you ever heard something like it before, or was this your first experience with Punk?
I was aware of punk in 1977, but I was too busy kicking a football about and chasing girls at the time. One of the first records I bought in 1978 was „Denis“ by Blondie, unfortunately the other two were „The Smurf Song“ and the Official Scottish World Cup Song of 1978. I bought these whilst I was living in Nottinghamshire just before we moved to Livingston, Scotland. There was no escaping punk in Livingston.
I have to ask this question. Why The Clash, and not The Sex Pistols?
The Sex Pistols released one proper studio album in 1977 and then Rotten left. They were never the same after that, although the cash-in albums were hugely influential at the time of release. The Clash on the other hand released six studio albums in their existence. They matured with each album, apart from „Cut The Crap“. The one regret that I have is that I didn’t see them at the time. If I had to choose between the Pistols and the Clash it would have to be the Clash every day of the week.
„Garageland“ was published as last song of their debut album. Did you like the album as a whole, or is this their standout track?
The first album is filled with classic song after classic song. From the opening with „Janie Jones“ to „Garageland“ it’s all thrillers with no fillers. How can you not like an album that’s as strong as this! Read the rest of this entry »
The early days of House Music in Chicago were dominated by enthusiastic young producers who processed what they heard being played by club DJs like Ron Hardy and Frankie Knuckles and radio DJs as the Hot Mix 5, a raw and highly functional take on the American Disco heritage and European electronic counterparts, its sound determined by limited means to afford musical equipment. There were many records released that had enough brilliant ideas to last to this day, but for its originators it might have been sufficient to have their tracks played by said DJs, and however addictive their rhythms and wild piano chords were, they also seemed not to aim too high in terms of traditional musicianship. Thus from very early on the music of Larry Heard stood out. He was a real musician, with credentials as a professional drummer and keyboard player, and he introduced a level of artistry to the scene that in comparison seemed to be underdeveloped until then. And from the start his music reflected his personality. It was deep, introvert, even melancholic. It did not contain the usual dancefloor imperatives, but it was still very danceable. But club functionality did not appear to be his top priority. Nevertheless all the records he released under different guises from the mid to late 80s became legendary classics, and many more records he released afterwards became legendary classics as well.
Consequently Larry Heard will forever remain one of the most revered artists in the history of House music, yet it always seemed as if he felt his career did not unfold as he hoped it would. He probably shared the same desire to become famous, just like the rest of the Windy City pioneers, but neither he nor his music were extrovert enough to fit the necessary schemes. And this both applied to his most noted alias Mr. Fingers, and Fingers Inc., the group he formed with Robert Owens and Ron Wilson. Mr. Fingers was reserved for his very own interpretations of the House groove, and he created one eternal blueprint after another in the process, impressively showing how deep and pure electronic music could be. Fingers Inc. on the other hand was clearly conveyed to work as a group, in the traditional sense of any other R&B group of those years, only with the sound of House instead of R&B. Just take a look at the pictures of the group on the sleeve, matching sweaters and confident poses, with female limbs wrapped around like an outtake from an Ohio Players artwork. The charts were to be climbed, the sooner and higher the better. But despite reassuring sales in the club scene they did not climb the charts as intended. It is significant that both the albums „Ammnesia“ by Mr. Fingers and „Another Side“ were released on the Jack Trax label from the UK, an imprint specializing on importing landmark Chicago House releases to the European market. Both albums combined tracks previously released on local Chicago House labels like Trax and DJ International with new material. Both albums were released in 1988, the year when a rising interest in the new dance sounds from across the pond turned into the Acid House movement that would change the UK and continental club scenes substantially. And both albums are not regarded as a quick compilation to cash in on a then current hype, they are regarded as peerless masterpieces. Albums that really work as albums, from start to finish, all killer no filler. They are still ultimate references that club music can work perfectly in the format, and whoever is failing is just not trying hard enough. So much for Larry Heard’s talents, you cannot really overestimate them. Read the rest of this entry »
In discussion with L’estasi Dell’oro on “Passages” by Ravi Shankar and Philip Glass (1990).
Do you remember when you first got a hold of „Passages“?
I would have to say approximately 8 years ago. I believe that I first became aware of this album through familiarity with Ravi’s work, as opposed to the more likely channel of Philip’s. It was just the well-worn process of hearing a great musician’s work for the first time and then digging through as much of the rest of their discography as time allows.
What makes this album so important for you?
The simple answer is that this is the best collection of modern music that I’ve ever heard in my life so far. There’s other individual songs that I feel reach higher than any single piece from „Passages“, Jimi’s „1983, A Merman…“ for example, but taken as a whole, the variety and almost unwavering quality across the 55 minutes are very impressive to me.
Are you generally interested in either the Minimalism school Glass is a part of, and the heritage Ravi Shankar represents, or are there preferences?
Both traditions are of interest, for both similar and differing reasons. The Western minimalism side’s long form accuracy of performance is astounding. Of course many pieces utilize synthesizers or machines for part or all of the sound, but there are many examples of highly trained musicians playing these very fast and demanding arrangements in sizable groups with amazing accuracy. Hearing a quartet of woodwinds or vocalists arpeggiate 32nd notes for 20 minutes in synchronization is certainly impressive, especially when each player is playing in the pocket of another’s notes and one weak link could lose the all-important groove.
I feel that the general Hindustani music I’ve been able to discover, not too much beyond key names are readily available to foreigners like myself unfortunately, is an amazing marriage of musical rules and improvisations. Other cultures undoubtedly have similar structures, but the long form interplay between a sitar and tabla create a sound that appears loose and informal at first, but one where the performers are very highly trained and aware of their actions as a group. I’m certainly not deeply aware of the compositional rules of ragas & talas, etc. but familiar enough to appreciate what those musicians know themselves. Even in the related vocal styles of Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan and Pakistani performers, the communal aspect of group support for the soloist is wonderful.
In common, the two traditions place emphasis on extended songs beyond the popular format, which when done correctly, can leave a profound impact on the listener. Also, the aforementioned backing of smaller choral support often features drawn-out vocal melodies that really appeal to my ear, especially with the female voice. I’ve enjoyed working with a couple vocalists in this style, which can even sound great just floating over a groove alone without the usual emphasis on a soloist drawing the main focus. Read the rest of this entry »
In discussion with The Maghreban on “Spell Of Three by Jazz Hip Trio (1967)
How did you become aware of „Spell Of Three“? A chance encounter?
I went to a car boot sale in Bath early one Sunday morning with my Dad and my Brother. I was looking for records, there weren’t many private sellers but there was a man who had a record stall. Normally I wouldn’t buy from a record dealer at a car boot sale, but there weren’t many records around so I had a look. He had this LP out for £12 or something. It looked interesting, just looking at the sleeve. It was the English Pressing on Major Minor. I took a chance on it for £10, which is not normally something I would do on a record costing that much.
Why did you pick this song, and not the whole album „Jazz En Relief“? What makes „Spell Of Three“ so significant?
When we got back I listened to the LP and was transported by that track in particular. Other tracks were nice, but none really moved me like that one did. Just the depth of emotion it conveys, kind of hopeful and sombre at the same time, it gave me goose bumps.
Is the late 60s your favourite period of time for Jazz, and is this style a personal preference?
I guess it is, yes, although not just the late 60s. There is a particular type of Jazz tune that I like, and most of them are from that time. Or some were recorded later but are in the 60s style. Tubby Hayes “Sasa Hivi”, “Pedro’s Walk”, Cannonball Adderley Quintet Plus “New Delhi”, Alto Summit “Native Land”, Ray Bryant Trio “Cubano Chant”, those kind of tunes. Some are a little Eastern sounding.
Would you say that Jazz-hip Trio have a typically French take on playing Jazz or does origin not matter?
I think they do actually. There is something there that reminds me of some Claude Bolling, Jacques Louissier. Or maybe its because it is a small band and it was recorded at that time. Something in the sound of the ride cymbals.
Their music sure has a cinematic quality, as exemplified in a lot of Jazz-based scores for films of that era, and they even interpret the seminal French film composer Michel Legrand. Is this just a cliché or did this film and music in that aspect just work well together at that time?
There is definitely something cool there, something cinematic. I could see this tune in a French New Wave film. Anna Karina smoking a cigarette. If it’s a cliché it is one that I like. I think the combination did work very well. Read the rest of this entry »
Moral – Trees In November
Ajukaja & Andrevski – Mesilind
Walt J – Horns Of Plenty
KB Project – Feel It
Universo – Yebo
Lowtec – Man On Wire (Reconstruction)
K.A. Posse – Shake (Joe Smooth Mix)
Geena – Tone Loc
Mosey – Live A Little
Luca Lozano – DJ Fett Burger – Telegronn
PLO Man – Type Damascus
Shanti Celeste – Moods
Chaperone – All Your Emergencies
Boo Williams – Freaky
Donnie Tempo – Tazmanian Virus (Sims JFF Edit)
Harmonious Thelonious – Industrielle Muziek
Minor Science – Closing Acts
DJ Stingray 313 – Acetylcholine
KiNK – Vodolaz (Elektro Guzzi Version)
MD Jr. – Survival Of The Richest
Unspecified Enemies – Ms. 45
Merle – Mimi Likes 2 Dance
House Of Doors – Starcave
Superpanzer – Die Tollen, die nicht so Tollen, und die Häßlichen
Finn, what memories do you have of your first DJ set?
It was mostly playing records at school and private parties from the mid 80s on, playing a variety of Disco, Soul, Synthpop and Post Punk. I’d like to remember that as eclectic, but probably chaotic would be the more apt description. Actually my memories of my first forays into playing out in public are bit hazy by now. After all, that was nearly 30 years ago. What I vividly remember was a Soul allnighter in a basement club of my hometown of Kiel, in ’86 or ’87. Actually it was a whole Mod Weekender, with several events all across town. My friend Ralf Mehnert, who became a well respected Rare Soul collector and DJ, and me took over the Soul part of the proceedings, playing records for a crowd that consisted of mods and other hip folks, but predominatly drunk scooter boys. Somebody saw them standing outside, mistook them for skinheads, and alerted the most notorious local Turkish street gang. They arrived not much later, crashing the door and storming down the stairs, only to face quite a crowd of completely unimpressed heavy parka-clad folks. Ralf and me ducked away in the DJ booth and things got really messy. About 30 minutes later there was no intruder left and the party continued as if absolutely nothing had happened. There were numerous other similar experiences. Kiel was quite a tough city, probably still is.
Can you re-engineer what influence being a small town boy – born and raised in Kiel, in Northern Germany – had on your musical education?
I did not really feel limitations. There were record stores as Tutti Frutti or Blitz which were very well selected with electronic music of the 80s, Punk, and experimental stuff. And quite a number of second hand stores to choose from, where I mostly bought Soul, Disco and obscure 60s and 70s records. Some of those acquired bigger record collections from Danish libraries and sold each record for 2 Deutschmarks, regardless of format. I purchased the bulk of my Disco collection in those years, for example. You did not have to spend much, so you would explore what you would have otherwise not listened to. I had a lot of friends who were very interested in music, and there was a constant exchange of knowledge, good and bad finds. It was all very social. I made regular record shopping trips to Hamburg, too. There were plenty of excellent record shops there, for everything of interest to me. I always looked for dance music of any kind, and Hamburg had stores that were importing records since the Disco era. They had the contacts and the knowledge.
And as for the clubs?
I did not mind being in a smaller town either. There were quite a few. The DJs mostly did not mix much and played all over the board stylistically. There was a tendency to play music in topical blocks. A 30-minutes block of Disco, followed by a 30-minutes block of New Wave, then Hip Hop, then some Rock, then Soul, then slow songs, then everything all over again. Once a few tunes worked together and on the floor, the DJs tended to rely on the according selection and did not change it for what seemed to be years. That drove me mad, but in retrospect I could hear lots of different music in one single night, and that left a mark on me. You learn about the contexts of what you hear, and how they relate to each other. I still make use of that. I travelled a lot, and I have been to a great number of clubs in my life, but when I moved to Berlin I was already in my early 30s. I spent my formative years up North. I did not move because I had to get out either, I left because the job situation was difficult for me. If I would had found an interesting job at that time, I probably would have stayed. I still go back regularly, I have family and friends there, and I still miss the sea.
You were born into club life by the sets of Klaus Stockhausen at Front Club in Hamburg, when you were dancing the nights away at the age of 18. What made this experience so fundamentally alluring to you?
I started going to clubs in Kiel in the early 80s, 12 or 13 years old, then to Hamburg clubs only a few years later. Most clubs in Hamburg were not as different to Kiel as they maintained to be, but the people had arguably more style and the music was more specialized. You went to certain clubs for a certain kind of music. I had been to some gay clubs in Kiel before, but they seemed to be stuck with a soundtrack that had been tried and tested for years, classic Disco anthems and the occasional Schlager drama excursion, and the scene was not that open. You often felt like the stranger entering the saloon, and the crowd often was more made up by people with a common taste in music and fashion that just happened to be gay. A lot of 80s fops and some sugar daddies. It could be fun, but more often it was not. These people had to live with other prejudices and repressions than just getting beaten up for the style of the subculture you had chosen for yourself, like I did, and you did not belong.
And Front Club was different?
Absolutely. When a friend took me to the Front Club in early 1987 that was dramatically different. The crowd was predominantly gay, but if you were not, like me, nobody seemed to care. I was aware of the major role gay subculture played in the evolution of dance music, mostly by reading features about legendary Disco clubs in magazines, but they were about Bianca on that horse for instance, and not about what was booming from the speakers as she rode in, which was exactly what interested me most. Front was the first club where I could actually experience it, and even be a part of it. And Klaus Stockhausen was the first DJ I ever heard who did not only play records, he mixed them. Like no other I heard ever since. It was not that I did not know any of the music before, but he was transforming the records into something else. And the club itself was incredibly intense, I have never witnessed something like that again either. A dark, gritty basement filled to the brim with extravagant people who completely lost their minds on the floor. And my first visits were coincidentally a good timing, because it was the transitional period between the music played there from 83 on, and House. House was introduced there much earlier, but it still was not ruling the playlist. It was brilliant to hear Stockhausen play favourites I loved from the years before, and more often records I never heard, and then the added early Chicago House sounds that seemed to have swallowed decades of dance music history only to spit them out as this raw, primitive version of it. It fit the club perfectly, and soon I was heading over to Hamburg on weekends as much as I could, because I simply could not get enough of the experience. That lasted until around 1995, and then I took up a residency in Kiel for almost ten years, and it kept me well occupied. But just think of all the incredible music released between 1987 and 1995. It really were the blink and miss years of what we still hear today, and I could be witnessing all crucial developments right on the floor, played by the best DJs, and dancing to it in the best club with the best crowd. Good times.
When did you start collecting records? During those blink and miss years?
No, much earlier. The little money I had I spent on records since I was about 6 years old. My parents gave me a record player, and the Forever Elvis compilation, plus radio and cassette recorder and they were my favourite toys by then. Especially the radio was very important. I spent endless hours recording music from the radio, cursing presenters for talking too much over songs I liked. And the hit music played on the radio in the mid 70s was just great. Chic and Roxy Music were probably my favourite bands. And all those weird and wonderful Glam Rock acts. But luckily enough I had also a chance to catch the music from early on that was not deemed fit for airplay. I had an uncle who had the idea to buy record collections at judicial sales, and he often gave me the records he did not like. Thus I could become the proud owner of Can’s Monster Movie or the first Suicide album and several obscure Soul albums when most of my classmates were still just listening to the charts. I know this sounds terribly made up, but it is the truth. And at a very young age you tend to play your favourite records over and over and over, your relationship to music is very intimate and deep. Soon I felt quite confident in my taste, and I was spending more and more time and money on music. But I actually had not the faintest idea how much great music there really was out there to discover, and I had yet to meet the right people to share my passion for it. That changed as soon as I could sneak my way into clubs. Read the rest of this entry »
In discussion with Flemming Dalum on “Mr. Game” by Klapto (1983).
Of all the options in that field, why did you choose „Mr. Game“ for this interview? Was it the record that had the most impact on you? And is it maybe genre-defining as well?
It was very hard for me to choose one single record for this interview. I have approximately 100 personal Italo top favourites which all did it for me back then, and now over 30 years later they still mean so much to me. I guess I chose „Mr. Game“ because it‘s really so Italo all the way. To me it contains all the classic Italo elements and I really thinks it captures the essence and pure vibe of Italo. At the same time I also think this record defines the genre very well. Personally I love the early sound of Italo the most, particularly the sound around 1983. Another record could have been Koto’s „Chinese Revenge“, which also blew me away back then. Pure synths all the way.
Did your instant love for Italo Disco connect with a taste in music you had before, like electronic Post Punk, Disco and later Synthpop?
Yes. I actually discovered synth music from UK around 1980. Artists like Depeche Mode, Yazoo, Human League, Soft Cell etc. I was simply very fascinated by the new sound universe of synths becoming a bigger part of dance music. I even bought some synths and played in a band for some years. Digging deeper into this synth music led me to discovering Italo, which had an even bolder and more spacey attitude. I was instantly totally blown away. It seems to me that they somehow tweaked the synths a bit more, maybe due to shorter production time and maybe less producer experience, I don’t know. But I think they came up with a very unique result. A sound and style never heard before, or even since. Later the Italo became more well produced, MIDI controlled and so on. Italo actually ended up too well produced and became more commercial. By then the magic was gone for me, around 1986.
There were Disco productions in Italy from the late 70’s on, but usually Italo Disco is associated with a sound that surfaced in the early 80’s. Why do you think it could be so unique and popular at the same time? Was it a novelty effect, or just good Pop merits?
I think the Italians where outstanding in capturing the vibe of the music trends in electronic dance music in the early 80s. They where clearly inspired by the UK scene and of course other musical subcultures around. But they added that charming unique Italian twist to it, which made it so very special. Actually I can hear if a track is Italian or not in a split second. Over 30 years of listening experience has had a huge impact on me. I’m sure other lifelong Italo freaks are also able to instantly tell if a track is from Italy or not.
In my youth in Northern Germany, Italo Disco was mostly cherished by people who would else rather listen to Hard Rock and charts music. The clubs it was being played at usually had a program that tried to cater to low and common denominators. It was certainly not hip. Was it the same in Denmark at that time?
Only few Italo records were played in the Danish clubs in the early 80s. US and UK music was clearly dominating, no doubt. But some clubs played the most commercial and popular Italo records like Gazebo’s „I Like Chopin“, Ryan Paris’ „Dolce Vita“, Fun Fun’s „Happy Station“, and Raff’s „Self Control“.
Instead of browsing local record shops for Italo Disco, you went straight to the source on trips to Italy, visiting distributors and labels. Which is quite similar to the efforts European Rare Soul collectors in the 70s made on US soil. Did you purchase the core of your collection that way, at that time?
Yes, it was impossible to get all the Italo records here in Denmark with no internet back then, so Ihadto get them by travelling all the way to Italy. So mainly I got them from the famous distributors and labels like Il Discotto, Disco Magic, Non-Stop, and famous shops like Merak and Disco Service. I took eleven trips in the years from 1983 and 1986, and inbetween the trips I was in close contact with Il Discotto and Disco Magic and also a great record shop in Firenze, called Disco Mastelloni. Basically I managed to find all the records I wanted and got a 100 % complete collection back then. Read the rest of this entry »
It has been four years since the legendary German electronic music pioneer Conrad Schnitzler has passed away, and I am very sure that at this very moment a person, or more likely, several persons are wondering just where to start with the gargantuan archives he left behind. From the late 60s until his demise he pressed record more than others, and his vast officially released output is surpassed considerably by what has not been released as of yet.
Every music consumer nowadays can only struggle with the amount of music that is returning to attention, and then on top there are all the releases that never were before. Legions of thorough and not so thorough specialized labels handle this output, but they mostly deal with a manageable back catalogue. And then there is Conrad Schnitzler. In retrospect you can take a whole lot of what we are familiar today in terms of electronic music, trace it straight back to what he was doing decades ago, and inevitably put a proto tag on it. And he was doing LOTS of it in his studio, heaping up well deserved credentials in the process, from the very beginning until the very end, day in day out. So how do you approach such a legacy? You need time, for sure. You need dedication, definitely. You need expertise, of course. But you also need an idea how to comprehensibly legitimate all the effort. Probably only Schnitzler himself will remain the only person to ever have heard anything there is, but thankfully he was also helpful to others aiming to reach as far as they could. When m=minimal label head Jens Strüver was granted access to Schnitzler’s audio library in the early 00s he suggested the Con-Struct series, in which Schnitzler’s archive would be constructed into new compositions by other musicians, and Schnitzler agreed to it. The first installment was handled by Strüver and Christian Borngräber, followed by Kreidler’s Andreas Reihse after Schnitzler’s death.
It is important to note that the series is not meant to be a tribute to finished recordings by means of remixing. The history of electronic music is littered with unnecessary remix compilations. Don’t get me started. But of course there are rules to the exception, where the remix is as advanced as the landmark music it is remixing. On the top of my head I would like to mention LFO’s version of Yellow Magic Orchestra’s „La Femme Chinoise“. And the main reason I am thinking of this particular remix is that for me it is a fine example for the ideal combination of source material and the remixer’s own artistic signature. Both YMO and LFO have their merits, and with this pairing, they multiply (pun alert). More often than not reworks are disrespectful to the original, because they are too respectful, thus watering down the originality of what they are reworking, resulting in a mere convenience product. But as mentioned, free interpretations are not the main idea behind the Con-Struct series, let alone remixes, but Schnitzler sure would not have been content with just being flattered by other artists, however weighty his artistic persona.
Which directly leads me to the third Con-Struct album, curated and rearranged by none other than Kurt Dahlke, better known as Pyrolator and member of German electronic Post Punk miracle Der Plan. Though of a later generation than Schnitzler, for me Dahlke is another seminal pioneer of electronic music. He knew his Buchla and his numerous other synths and devices and what to do with it, and I am totally convinced that his impact should never be underestimated, and may later be con-structed itself. An inspired choice. In his own words, Dahlke wanted to „present a side of Conrad which I had always heard in his music but one which often goes unnoticed: a darker, technoid side. In my opinion, Conrad has always been one of the great pioneers of classic Berlin techno music.“ Well, upon hearing the album the proto can again be tagged, to techno this time. This may not be drone plus kick thunder usually associated with the city’s current according club soundtrack, it is more of the 90s kind, when a plethora of sounds permeated the scene, imported or locally grown, and folders were still closed. As that is what makes pioneering days so exciting, and so easy. Nothing is settled. It will be eventually, but not right now. Let’s explore every idea we have. Which makes this album so enthralling, as both Schnitzler and Dahlke supposedly went through such a phase several times throughout their career. So on the one hand you have Schnitzler’s lifelong love of musical adventure and his ability to anticipate represented with Dahlke’s selection, on the other hand you hear Dahlke’s musical preferences and signatures reflected. „I must admit, I could not resist the temptation to add one or two of my own ideas. The original tracks were so inspiring, I just had to.“, Dahlke measures his input. Frankly, I am more of a Dahlke than a Schnitzler scholar, but I sense understatement.
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