> Backroom Productions – Definition Of A Track ( New York Underground Records) 1988
A rare tune from 1987. Indeed nothing but a track.
I knew this from the vinyl edition of the DJ-Kicks by Terranova. At that time it fit right in with what they were trying to represent with that compilation. I used to play this track regularly back then, it was very good for warming up.
So you actually know this for quite some time then.
Yeah, of course! I was not into Terranova that much, but the compilation had some brilliant tracks on it. East Flatbush Project and such.
This has some kind of Hip Hop vibe to it, too. But it does not exactly sound like 1988.
No, and I didn’t know that (laughs).
Would you still play it?
Definitely. I don’t know when and for what occasion but it is a class track.
It somehow reminds me of the bonus beats they used to have on the flipside of old House records.
Yeah, but bonus beats have gone out of fashion a bit, apart from Hip Hop. Argy had some for that Sydenham track “Ebian” on Ibadan last year. But I think it is not really relevant anymore for the current generation of House producers.
The percussive elements really distinguish the sound of that era from today’s productions. Lots of handclaps, or here it’s rimshots.
My problem is that I don’t really like all these percussion sounds from drum machines. I prefer sampled real instruments. This is probably some classic Roland drum machine, like a 606. I would take the bassdrum and hi-hats from somewhere else. The toms of these old machines are always cool, but the bongo sounds for example are not for me. I wouldn’t use that for my productions. I couldn’t do these 100 % authentic references. I think it’s supercool to listen to in a Prosumer record for example, but I couldn’t do that.
You got qualms about doing something like that?
No (laughs)! I’m just working on a new track for which I sampled an old Amen-break. I don’t care, if I like it I use it. This kind of break is in 90 % of all Drum and Bass tracks and nobody cares, so I don’t care either.
> Phortune – Unity (Jack Trax) 1988
This is an old track by DJ Pierre, from his Acid House days. But it is different to most tracks he produced back then. It is pretty deep.
It’s great. Awesome vibe for 1988, I could listen to this all day. It doesn’t tranquilize my feet, it’s not boring, it’s perfectly right. And I would grin from ear to ear if I would hear this in a club.
Some of its sounds have aged really well.
I really like this. I think it’s a pity that there are not so many tracks with great basslines at the moment. There are a lot of simple, functional basslines without much of a melody. Of course it’s effective and some current tracks need some of these dominating, functional elements, but a track like this for example needs a bit more, and I miss that. It’s also simple, but it has more and different harmonies. I like that, it gets me hooked. I would love to buy this on Beatport (laughs)!
Zerocrop hat mit Billie Ray Martin und dem most fashionable Hutmacher Justin Martin gearbeitet, mag Konzepte im Pop und ist damit auch schon im Berghain aufgetreten. Auf seinem letzten Album „Fucked“ ging es vornehmlich um Sex und Drogen, aber auch da bereits ohne diese Zweckhysterie und Billiginstrumentierung, die viele elektronische Popsachen heutzutage so lächerlich und belanglos macht, bitte konsultiert dazu vergleichsweise den letzten Bericht eurer Wahl über die Bunteklamottenprotestjugendband des Monats. Zerocrop ist viel dichter dran an den Guten in der Geschichte des Synthiepops als Horden von flüchtigen Nachfolgern, was vor allem daran liegt, dass er sehr gute Popsongs schreibt, diese mit einer sehr guten Popstimme singt und auch mit sehr guten Poparrangements ausstattet. Dazu kommen dann Texte, die überhaupt nicht Pop sind und sich intensiv und unromantisch mit dem zentralen Thema des Albums auseinandersetzen: Schmerz. In der Anstalt, im Gefängnis, im Glauben, im Krieg, in der Liebe, in der Nacht, im Abseits, im Kopf. Dazu dann aber diese schönen Melodien, die auf Drones, Pedal Steel, Cello und Rückwärtsschlaufen von Gitarren und Rhythmen treffen. Großartiges Album.
This is from an old French movie soundtrack, „Le Casse“. I picked this for the string arrangement, because it puts a lot of emphasis on build-up, thus linking to the way Disco producers arranged strings for climactic dancefloor moments.
To be honest, I muss confess I don’t know Morricone’s works so well. I don’t think I have been a really big fan, partially because I don’t know it so well. My first impression of this track, which I didn’t know, was that it’s a formal composition. In my head I make a distinction between pop music, which has almost very definite rules, and people following it like Abba. It’s not formulaic, but there are very basic chord progressions that are based on Blues and Jazz that you can do in pop music and that have their own logic and their own progression. Many pop songs are actually the same song. “Good Times” by Chic is one kind of groove and twenty other songs sound exactly like it. It could be “Rapture” by Blondie or something. That’s pop music writing. And then you have soundtrack music writing and it has a different logic. It doesn’t have to follow a certain progression like in pop music, which has a reason and an impulse that keeps on pushing the song forward. When I heard this I thought it is a very good example of soundtrack music writing where you don’t really have to explain the logic of the chord progression, it just sets a mood. It makes an ambience. I think this is probably from 1967 to 71.
Good guess, it’s from 1971.
Because from 1972 on you start getting the big multi-track stuff, like Philly Disco and the more sophisticated pop, and this still sounds relatively simple. My first impression was it’s like a slightly cheaper copy of Burt Bacharach’s “Raindrops Keep Fallin’ On My Head”, but with more drama. It has some very formal devices, like it’s basically a minor key. But at some points he plays the same theme but he opens it up with a major key.
Lately all this beautifully orchestrated obscure library music back is popping up again and people scan back catalogues for songs groovy enough to suit a Disco context.
Yeah, that’s interesting, and I think there is a good reason for that. There is such a thing as real music, in the sense that there were people who did music for films, like Ennio Morricone, or Giorgio Moroder, with a more naïve use of the rules, or the very sophisticated Henry Mancini, or Alec Constandinos, or Vangelis, or Jean-Michel Jarre. All these people were obviously classically trained and they followed the rules. It doesn’t really matter if it’s a Bossa Nova, 60’s GoGo or a Disco beat, the rules of the music don’t change. I think that is why everybody is going back now to find real music. When people like Masters At Work appeared in the 90’s, people who didn’t know anything about the basic rules of music started making music. That’s why it sounds so awful, haha. A lot of the DJ produced music doesn’t have its own intrinsic logic and sense. And chords, progression and melodies have that intrinsic logic. That’s what’s been missing. So everyone of this generation who wants to find out what is really musical has to go back to the 60’s and 70’s, and there you find it everywhere actually.
> Carter Burwell – Blood Simple
This is from the soundtrack of the Coen Brothers debut film “Blood Simple”.
It’s from the 80’s I suppose.
Yes, it’s from 1987. It’s a mood piece with a synthetic feel to it.
I found the orchestration is simpler, but it’s similar to the previous song. Again, it’s not a pop song with intrinsic deep logic. Like Bach’s “Air On The G-String”, that is also some kind of pop music because it has a very definite logic. This one has a formal piano theme that sounds a bit like Erik Satie. Simple chord, simple melody, a little bit like Mozart’s “Eine kleine Nachtmusik”. It is not original, it is a formal piece, it follows a form that other people have created.
You could maybe alter its logic by just putting a beat under it, and by not adding much you would have a really moody dance track.
Yeah, actually this is the thing. To be honest, and many people are going to hate me for saying this, I’m not a big fan of Portishead. It’s very easy to make a mood piece. Anybody can do it. All you have to do is take a minor key and play some stuff over it, doesn’t really matter what. I think Portishead never even use a major key (laughs).
They don’t have to, really.
Yes. I think anybody writing good music should move between major and minor keys, that’s part of the magic. Since we now accept that some people make mood music, you can have a whole album of just melancholy. Personally, that doesn’t move me at all and I don’t find it very interesting. I think a lot of people in this generation think that this is a valid way to do music, for me it’s not enough. Salsoul records only have two or three keys but they do it so well, there are so many nuances.
I think the problem is that many people think they can only sound deep by using minor keys.
Yes, you’re right. That’s very true. If it’s not melancholy and it’s not moody then it’s not deep. Which is not true. That’s very profound what you just said. Read the rest of this entry »
Der Tag des Syndikatsaufräumers beginnt ausbaufähig, man hat ihm im Schlaf ein Gift injiziert und er muss nun sehr viel Stress haben, damit er nicht einfach tot umkippt. Jemand ist verantwortlich, es gibt eventuell ein Gegengift. Diese Prämisse reicht schon, danach kann man mit diesem Film eigentlich alles anstellen, und Regie und Skript halten sich dann auch nicht länger mit unnötigen Reflektionen auf. Der Mann läuft unablässig, wie eine Gym-Version von Belmondo, nur ist es nun nicht mehr ein „Abenteuer in Rio“, sondern eines in GTA San Andreas. Dinge, die man eben so macht, damit man nicht runterkommt und abkratzt: es zuerst mit dem gesamten Energydrinksortiment des Eckladens probieren, dann lieber gleich das Substanzenkontingent eines Berghain-Wochenendes rein in den Organismus, wahllos Leute hauen, dann mit wehender Dauerlatte die Stadt in Schutt und Asche legen. Da fallen fliegende Gliedmaßen an, flächendeckender Kameraheckmeck, Sexismus-Blutgrätschen und lauter echt toll verquaste Nebenprobleme. Jason Statham ist in der Lage, diesen irren Quatsch zu tragen, der Handlungsverlauf hat ein paar erstaunliche Störmanöver parat, und hätte man diesen Film einfach hierzulande in „Krank“ umgetauft, es wäre plausibel gewesen.
José Padilla, den ehemaligen obersten Befindlichkeitsknusperverstärker des Café del Mar, drängt es nach übersichtlicher Musikerkarriere wieder zurück an die alte Idee. Nicht nur als Sandmann bzw. Urlaubsex-Erfüllungsgehilfe und Maitre de Sonnenaufgang von Generationen von Clubtouristen hat der Mann Meriten, er hat auch mit elektronischer Sanftmut den Kuschelrock aus der Kompaktanlage des deutschen Feierabends geboxt. Die Mission ist immer noch der ewige Schönklang, die bewährten fluffigen Balearismen werden jetzt aber auch mit beispielsweise Kölner Elektronik und Daniel Wang aufgefrischt. Nichts für Menschen, die den langen Zapfenstreich mit einem Crescendo von etwa Cecil Taylor begehen oder zum Einschlafen eine Berghain Mix-CD auf Repeat stellen, ansonsten durchaus zweckdienlich.
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