At the end of the 80s house music added deep. Seminal artists like Larry Heard, Marshall Jefferson or Virgo Four abandoned the track-dominated sound palette and introduced musicianship to a genre that was then better known for dancefloor functionality. But it was from 1990 on that the vibe really spread and developed, particularly in New York City. I first heard the term flute house when Roger Sanchez released „Luv Dancin‘“ by Underground Solution. Some also called it ambient or mellow house. But the music was not made for home listening purposes, DJs would use it, too. As a gentle introduction, or as a moment of regeneration during peak time, or as the best possible way to ease the crowd out again into the early morning, so that not a single glorious moment of what just happened the hours before was tainted by something less. A lot of these tracks had enough kicks to have you working at any time, but they also seemed to be created for unique moments, closed eyes, embraces, disbelief evoked by sheer beauty. A lot of these tracks had tags like ambient or jazz in their titles and credits, but they did not really try to be either. The artists involved liked to display their musical abilities, and their skills to establish a mood and an atmosphere. They knew how to write a melody, they knew how to arrange their layers and instruments, they were determined to sound as good as their means would allow. By the time Frankie Knuckles‘ Whistle Song was released in 1991, the flutes, vibraphones, saxophones or similar instruments were already derided, but the sound had come to stay, until this day. This playlist gathers some classic moments that paved the way.
Logic – The Final Frontier (Acoustic Mix) (Strictly Rhythm, 1990)
Wayne Gardiner took Larry Heard’s gentle elegance (the bassline is lifted from Fingers Inc.’s deep house blueprint “Can You Feel It”) and added the archetypical swing of early 90s New York City house. His back catalogue is filled with lots of sublime grandeur, but this track is structured like a jazz band taking turns on their respective instruments, and steadily building up layer after layer of tension and drama in the process. The result is still peerless.
That Bobby Konders quit producing house music for a career in dancehall and dub productions when he was capable of track like this, is still a an irreparable trauma for many. As with many of his tunes, this can completely zone you out. Eight minutes of considerably relentless flutiness, accompanied by a dubbed out bassline and some eerie strings. A psychedelic masterpiece.
The Vision – Shardé (Nu Groove, 1991)
Eddie Maduro was an accomplice of Wayne Gardiner (for example he co-wrote Logic‘s „The Warning“ and supplied its seminal vocal introduction), and this is one of his finest moments. It is named after his daughter, and I am very convinced that the world would be a better place if such a beautiful piece of music would be composed for every child.
The Nick Jones Experience – Wake Up People (Massive B, 1991)
New Jersey DJ and producer Nick Jones with a total gem on Bobby Konders‘ Massive B imprint, with some help by Satoshi Tomiie. Not your typical house groove, but this forever remained a special track for special moments anyway. But if chosen wisely, it can elevate those moments to something completely else, be it in the club or when you are on your own.
Beautiful People – I Got The Rhythm (Club Mix) (Cabaret, 1991)
I assume this collaboration of Joey Longo aka Pal Joey with Manabu Nagayama and Toshihiko Mori came into being when King Street Sounds label head Hisa Ishioka introduced American and Japanes producers to each other in the early 90s. This tracks bears the trademark Pal Joey mixture of hip hop ruffness and deep sounds, but it is way longer, more complex in structure, and it even adds a steady breakbeat to fine effect. Beautiful People indeed, and they sure got the rhythm.
Chicago‘s DJ Pierre already had the credentials to be responsible for a lasting sound revolution in club music when he, together with Earl “Spanky” Smith Jr., and Herbert “Herb J” Jackson as Phuture, tweaked the knobs of the Roland TB-303 and came up with the squelching sounds that defined acid house. But regular visits to the seminal Wild Pitch parties put on by Bobby Konders and Greg Day in early 90s New York City inspired him to reinvent himself once again, and again with lasting consequences. The Wild Pitch parties consisted of several rooms with different musical agendas between reggae, disco, hip hop, house and techno. Pierre’s idea was to gather the diverse styles played into one track, but by applying a structure that stepped away from the traditions of club music functionality. Over the course of tracks often hitting or passing the 10 minute mark, he opted for a gradual introduction of a track’s key elements. Starting with the kick drum, every further sound was slowly and patiently layered onto another on a rolling groove, heaping up the intensity step by step until a climactic release. This may not read as being revolutionary, but it was executed so skillfully that it shook up the foundations of house, introducing a level of upbuilding tension and a hypnotic quality that was yet unheard of. And it also led to Pierre becoming one the most in-demand remixers in the years to come. Here is a guide to some classics and overlooked gems that defined wild pitch.
Photon Inc. Feat. Paula Brion – Generate Power (Wild Pitch Mix) (Strictly Rhythm, 1991)
The ground zero of the genre, and all the key elements are already there: the waddling groove, the standing strings, the stab repetition, the signalling vocal samples. The upbuilding structure was not as refined yet, but the intensity level sure was. This track literally ran over house music in its release year, and Pierre obviously noticed that he was onto something.
DJ Pierre – Muzik (The Tribal Wild Pitch Mix) (Strictly Rhythm, 1992)
DJ Pierre often said in interviews that wild pitch was inspired by his own DJing preferences of sneaking in elements of other tracks in long blends. „Muzik“ is a perfect example for that. Just check how its elements fade in and out, are repeated, modulated, replaced, continued and layered. It is a master class in structure.
Divided in four parts segued into another and add up to 15 breathtaking minutes, this track tore through dancefloors with a massive boom still seeking comparison. Yet it is actually clocking at 120 bpm, proving that pace does not equal heaviness. And it builds and builds. Someplace else, Chez Damier and Ron Trent were taking notes.
What was your first encounter with „The Call Is Strong“?
Alongside Daddy Gee, Carlton was featured on “Any Love”, the very first Massive Attack single which was a cover of one of my favourite songs from Rufus & Chaka Khan. I was a huge Chaka Khan fan by the way, I went to quite a few concerts. The very first time I saw her, I even waited for her at the backstage entrance because I wanted to have an autograph. Want some trivia? In the 90s, she had been living in my hometown Mannheim for a few years. Back to Carlton, I was really impressed by his crystal clear falsetto. I think “Any Love” came out roughly about the same time as the first Smith & Mighty singles, so this was the starting point of the Bristol sound. I first heard about the Bristol sound when I read about it in i-D magazine or The Face. So I already knew about Carlton when his first album dropped. I bought it at the local WOM store where I used to work back then.
1990 was a very exciting year for club music. Why did you choose this album over others? Why was and is it so important for you?
After you approached me for “Rewind”, I thought that I would have a hard time choosing “that” record. But then I stumbled across a 12” of his song “Cool With Nature” which contains killer remixes by Bobby Konders. So I remembered how much this album meant to me. When I listened to it for the first time, it blew me away. Smith & Mighty did a fantastic production job. At that time, it was very state of the art incorporating elements of Dub, contemporary US R&B, classic Soul, Reggae, electronic sounds as I knew them from House music and even some Swingbeat bits. I fell in love with the ethereal and often spliffed out vibe of the album and Carlton’s songwriting.
How do you rate Carlton as a singer? Why do you think they chose him, and could the album have been as good with another singer?
Carlton’s voice struck me instantly. I think he is a truly underrated singer and it’s a pity that the album wasn’t successful. His voice is really unique, that must be why Smith & Mighty chose him. It was his album, not a Smith & Mighty project in the first place. When you listen to him you can clearly tell that he’s coming from a Reggae background. On “The Call Is Strong” he sounds like a Reggae vocalist singing some kind of otherworldly UK version of R&B.
The album is taking quite some detours. For example „Love And Pain“ could have been a 2 Tone ballad from years earlier, while „Do You Dream“ is right on par with breakbeat pioneers like Shut Up And Dance or 4 Hero. How does „The Call Is Strong“ work as an album? How pioneering was what Smith & Mighty did?
It was very pioneering! The sparse beats, their very English way of bringing together the Jamaican sound system culture and US Hip Hop without sounding like eager copycats. And of course, as they grew up in England, they must have been in touch with 2 Tone stuff as well when they were teenagers. You’re right, you can also trace down elements that became integral with the Breakbeat scene which was already emerging at a very early stage.
I first became aware of Smith & Mighty when they appeared with their Bacharach reworks „Walk On“ and „Anyone“ two years earlier, to which „The Call Is Strong“ sounds like a continuation. I thought they sounded like nobody else at that time. Suddenly Bristol was on the map, making a difference. But could anyone predict how big that difference would be?
You could clearly hear that Smith & Mighty and Massive Attack were making a difference when their first 12”s came out. It all sounded so new and fresh. But I really had no idea how big this Bristol thing would become. Also I had no idea how misinterpreted the whole thing would get when the term Trip Hop emerged.
There were groups emerging in the late 80s that were deeply rooted in sound system culture, but why were Massive Attack and the London equivalent Soul II Soul so much more successful than Smith & Mighty? Were they less traditional and closer to pop music’s proceedings? And why do you think didn’t Carlton manage to establish himself as an ongoing fixture?
Massive Attack and Soul II Soul had the big hit singles. But not by accident, both had good labels with a staff that knew how to work their releases. Smith & Mighty signed a major deal as well – with FFRR, at that time a subsidiary of London Records/PolyGram. The first big project was Carlton’s album, which didn’t prove to be as successful as expected. Then Smith & Mighty were kind of locked in this deal. Under their own name, they only released a four track EP on FFRR. I would say they missed the right moment due to this deal. It took them years to get out of it.Read the rest of this entry »
These mixes are an admittedly self-indulgent excursion that is a very personal sentimental journey. Going back, way back, back into time etc. A time where I was over twenty years younger, the early 90’s. The music you are about to hear is what we listened to at friends’ places before hitting the club. Every weekend we were dead certain that tonight will be THE night, even better than THE night the weekend before. We were young, handsome, carefree and everything that mattered was imminent. We knew there were hours of dancing to the most wonderful music lying ahead, and we actually could not really wait. In those days the club night began timely, and it had an end. We did not even think of being fashionably late, because there could have been so much we could have missed out on. But still, there was some time left. So beers open, cigs lit, talks, laughter, scheduling phone calls, dressing up and of course, the music. The music had to be perfect. But the music also had to be different to what we would dance to later on. We are not talking about music that should not distract, quite the opposite. It should be involving, fuelling our anticipation, but not exhausting it. Of course sometimes were were out buying the latest records earlier on, and we were playing them to each other. But sooner or later the dominant sound of getting ready was mellow, slick, lush, warm, elegant, fluid, flowing, smooth, soothing, emotional, DEEP.
It was the sound pioneered by in Chicago by artists like Larry Heard and Marshall Jefferson and many others, then developed further in New York by artists like Wayne Gardiner, Bobby Konders, the Burrell Brothers and also many others. Do not mistake their music as being designed for home listening purposes. The DJs would use them, too. As a gentle introduction, or as a moment of regeneration during peak time, or as the best possible way to ease the crowd out again in the early morning, so that not a single glorious moment of what just happened was tainted by something less. A lot of these tracks had enough kicks to have you working at any time, but they also seemed to be created for special moments, closed eyes, embraces, disbelief evoked by sheer beauty.
The musical programming of that era was quite different to today. It was not steadily going up and up, it was going up and down. There were detours, breaks, constant pace shifts, even pauses. Surprises welcome. A single style was not mandatory. Changes were expected, and fulfilled, at best unexpectedly. There was a flow, but it was not built-in, it had to be achieved.
A lot of these tracks have tags like Ambient or Jazz in their titles and credits, but they did not really try to be either. The artists involved liked to display their musicianship, and their ability to establish a mood and an atmosphere. They knew how to write a melody, they knew how to arrange their layers and instruments, they were determined to sound as good as their means would allow.
One reason why I wanted to record these mixes is that I sometimes miss club music artists being musicians. And music oblivious to floor imperatives and mere functionalism. The other reason is that I was interested how these tracks would sound or even hold up if you did not just inject this feeling inbetween something else, but you pull it through, for HOURS. Would it be too much? You decide.
I’d like to dedicate this to the Front Kids, wherever you may roam. You rule.
Eins musste man den Italienern schon immer lassen, sie wissen meist sehr zeitig welcher Sound sich in qualitativer und kommerzieller Hinsicht zu kopieren lohnt. Das zieht sich von Adaptionen amerikanischer Discomusik der klassischen Phase bis hin zu heutigem Minimalgeklacker. Natürlich hat das auch oft zu sehr originären Interpretationen geführt, teilweise wurde auch etwas ganz Neues daraus was sich an die Ursprungsländer als Ursprung zurückverkaufen ließ. Die musikalisch fortschrittliche Fraktion von Italo Disco wäre ein Beispiel, diverse ältere House- und Technoproduzenten in den US-Metropolen können es bestätigen. Ein wirklich glückliches Zusammentreffen war die italienische Annektierung von House. Wurden die ersten Chicago-Trax noch mit massivem Pianoeinsatz und plakativsten Disco-Diven-Samples Ende der 80er zu Chartbreakern à la Blackbox verkehrt, an denen sich insbesondere die englische Breakbeat-Szene schon seit Jahren erfreut und abarbeitet, griff man Anfang der 90er den New Yorker House-Sound auf, für den vor allem Labels wie Strictly Rhythm, Nervous und Nu Groove standen, neben zahllosen anderen anbetungswürdigen Kleinstadressen mit gelegentlichen Geniestreichen. Auf einmal erschienen Importe aus Italien, die in der Sanftheit und Emotionalität der US-Prototypen geradezu badeten, denn in den Großclubs in Rimini und Riccione wie Peter Pan oder Ethos Mama reichten die großzügigen Flächen und Bassgrooves von Produzenten wie Wayne Gardiner, Bobby Konders, Mood II Swing, den Burrell-Brüdern oder Nathaniel X nicht einmal aus, da ging es um andere Räume und ein anderes Gemeinschaftsgefühl auf der Tanzfläche, da musste mit dem großen Pinsel nachgebessert werden. Wenn man Italo House dieser Jahre beschreibt, verfällt man deswegen schnell in azurblaue Klischees, denn tatsächlich eint alle diese Stücke, dass sie eine mediterrane Selbstzufriedenheit ausstrahlen, die mit dem vom urbanen Alltagskampf geprägten Melancholieklang amerikanischer Großstädte nur noch in Resten zu tun hat. Stattdessen bekommt man hier eine reiche Palette an Sounds und Arrangements, die teilweise bis knapp unter die Kitschgrenze stoßen, auf der Tanzfläche aber nicht nur für die kollektive Glückseligkeit aufgebrezelter Einheimischer und der clubeigenen Fächertänzerinnen sorgten. Reichlich Urlauber waren genauso von dieser warmen Umarmung eingenommen, und reisten mit einer musikalischen Utopie in ihre grauen Vorstädte zurück. So etwas erzielt man natürlich nur mit Könnerschaft, und die Produzenten hinter Omniverse beispielsweise, Ricky Montanari und Moz-art, wussten schon seit etlichen Jahren was bei ihren Tänzern funktioniert und was nicht. Beide waren seit den 70ern hinter den Decks, ersterer fing eher als klassischer Disco-DJ an, letzterer war einer der wenigen Cosmic-Pioniere, die heutzutage jeder schon damals kannte. Und „Antares“ ist neben „Alone“ von Don Carlos die Genredefinition, sechs Minuten wie ein übermütiger Sprung in einen glitzernden Pool, und wenn man am anderen Ende wieder auftaucht, sieht man schöne Menschen in luftiger Bekleidung und schweißtreibenden Bewegungen, und da kommt auch schon der erste Drink. Es geht auch ohne Kopf.
The first one is by Rinder and Lewis – “Lust”, which is kind of a space disco prototype so to say. For 1977 it was kind of a landmark record I guess.
For 1977, yes. I suppose Rinder and Lewis were a very prolific production team in the 70s and 80s. They made an awful lot of records, a lot of albums. That’s probably one of their most moody tracks. A lot of their stuff has got a 1920s, big band, Charleston influence to it. But I like a lot of their stuff. But some of it is unusual in its arrangement. That one’s got a slightly more mystical vibe to it.
Would you say they tried to explore their field a bit further with this record? You mentioned that a few of the other productions had certain influences, like the latin stuff for example. But this one is really something different, almost science fiction.
Yes, but that’s quite different from the rest of the “Seven Deadly Sins” album. I reckon it wasn’t a track that was made to be a hit. It was probably considered an album track. But with that weird bit in the middle with the glockenspiel, it goes into a sort of devil bit about two thirds of the way through. Which is very out of character with the rest of the record. But what I think is interesting about that is that you don’t get those sort of unexpected bits in records now. I guess when musicians are making records, it’s very different to when DJs are making records. Now, when DJs make records they just tend to have the same stuff going throughout the track, it just loops round and round. Maybe there might be some changes, but there’s nothing drastic coming in really loud. A bad DJ produced record might just be a bit boring, whereas a bad record from the 70s might have a great verse and a really terrible chorus. Or you might have something really cheesy. A lot of records now are just rhythm tracks made by DJs for mixing and whatever, whereas then you might have records that have got loads in them, maybe too much. But the reason that they’re not great is maybe because they’ve got too much in them. They might have some great musical parts, but the vocals are crap. I think I’m digressing a little bit. A lot of Rinder and Lewis stuff – have you got that album “Discognosis”?
No, I know the THP Orchestra stuff which I found really good.
Yeah, and there’s El Coco and Le Pamplemousse. I like that track. It’s always very well orchestrated, they always had a bit of money to make the records. It wasn’t done on a shoestring budget, they must have sold pretty well. I think El Coco’s “Cocomotion” is one of my favourites by them as well. Obviously a lot of the stuff on AVI was produced by them, they were putting out a lot of music. They must have lived in the studio in 76, 77, 78, 79.
This is also a really good example for what you can do if you’re a good arranger – the arrangements they did are really complex and beautiful. Is that something you miss? You talked of modern rhythm tracks and functionality – I think it’s hard to pull off these days because you don’t have budgets for studio work…
Yeah of course. I suppose you have to think, this is now and that was then. Record sales were much higher, I suppose disco was like r’n’b was 5 years ago in terms of its worldwide popularity. So there was a lot more money, obviously there weren’t downloads or people copying CDs. I don’t know what the sales figures were like of something like Rinder and Lewis, but it probably sold half a million or something like that. It’s a completely different time, in terms of being able to get a string section in for your record. I’ve paid for string sections before, but to be honest with you what I’ve found is a string section with 30-40 people is so different to a string section with 7 or 8 people. I’ve only been able to afford 6 or 7 people. It isn’t really a string section! Nowadays, with CD-ROMs and whatever you can make something that sounds pretty good – not the same – but pretty good with just samples. To really make it sound a lot better, you need a 30-40 piece, big room orchestra. People at Salsoul and a lot of them classic disco records had that big proper string arrangement. Also, paying someone to do the arrangement isn’t cheap if you get someone good. Very difficult to do that now. So yeah, I do miss it. But there’s no point missing something, it’s like saying “Oh, I wish they were still making Starsky and Hutch”.
As long as a glimpse of an orchestra won’t do, it doesn’t make sense?
I think the only it could make sense is if George Michael decides to make a disco album, or someone like that. He could afford it. Or Beyonce. Some big star. But your average dance record – I suppose Jamiroquai had some live strings on some of his stuff. But then again, he was selling a lot of records.
Doobie Brothers – What A Fool Believes (Warner Bros. Inc., 1979)
“What a Fool Believes” by the Doobie Brothers, which is a merger of rock and disco.
There’s other tracks, like the Alessi Brothers “Ghostdancer”… I suppose that just shows how popular disco music must have been at the time when people like The Doobie Brothers and Carly Simon were actually making disco records. I suppose it’s the same as nowadays people making a record with a more r’n’b type beat. Or at the beginning of house music, there were lots of pop acts making house records. I was listening to a best of ABBA a few years ago. It started off sort of glam-rock, sort of sweet, like Gary Glitter, that sort of production. And by the late seventies their stuff had got pretty disco-ey. And by 82 it was folky. So I think the disco beat was just featuring on a lot of productions by acts who just wanted to make a contemporary sounding record. That’s probably why a lot of the American rock establishment hated disco so much. It wasn’t just that it was there: their favourite acts were making disco records! They hated the fact the Rolling Stones made disco records, it just wasn’t allowed.
But the thing is, that when the disco boom ended, a lot of the rock acts who made disco records acted like they never did! They deserted it pretty quickly.
Yeah, once it became uncool they pretended they never liked it, it wasn’t their idea and all that. I tried to once do a compilation album of that sort of stuff. But it’s too difficult to license it all. They’re all on major labels, they’re all big acts, and it’s very hard to license that stuff. In fact I’d go as far as to say it’s impossible: just too difficult and expensive.
Was it just because of budget reasons, or because the acts didn’t want to be reminded of what they did in that area?
I think often those big acts have to approve every compilation album license. A lot of the time, for the people who work in the compilation album license department, it’s easier for them to say no than to write to the management of Supertramp or Queen. And often, if they do see a title that has disco in it, they will say no. And a lot of them won’t license the Rolling Stones to a comp that’s got a projected sales figure of less than half a million. There’s so many reasons why it’s problematic. You could do it, but you’d have to leave off so many tracks, there would hardly be any point doing it. I did have a chat with a major label about doing it and that was one that owned quite a lot of them. But it’s just so difficult. They want to see a big marketing budget, they want to see you spend a hundred grand on television adverts. Otherwise they just go, why are we on this compilation album?
I think it’s a shame really, there were so many good disco records done by major artists…
Yeah. I like a lot of those things. I’m doing this compilation for BBE which is maybe a similar thing, just it’s not all well known acts. People like Fleetwood Mac, they did that track “Keep On Going”, those sort of things. I guess it’s blue-eyed rocky soul. Quite danceable… it’s not all disco, but it’s not really rock either. More black music based. I always think, if you look at the back of a rock album and it’s got someone playing bongos on it, it’s worth checking out. Read the rest of this entry »
Im Gespräch mit Gerd Janson über “Bobby Konders & Massive Sounds” von Bobby Konders & Massive Sounds (1992).
Wie und wann bist Du auf “Bobby Konders & Massive Sounds” gestoßen?
Der Name Bobby Konders fiel mir zum ersten Mal 1994/95 im Rahmen einer Nu Groove Records-Retrospektive des Size!-Magazins auf. Das war eines jener selig machenden Fanzines, die damals die Funktion heutiger Blogs übernahmen und sich bevorzugt mit House und Techno aus dem Detroit-Chicago-New-York-Triangel beschäftigten bzw. den europäischen Brüdern im Geiste. Die dort beschriebene Konders-Disziplin aus Deep House, seitwärts getragenen Baseballmützen, Krankenkassenbrillen, Langhaarmatte und Dub-Reggae-Einflüssen klang sehr plausibel und sein greatest hit „The Poem“, das vom Dub-Poeten Mutabaruka eingeleitet wird, stieß dann sozusagen das Tor zum Fantum himmelweit auf. „Bobby Konders & Massive Sounds“ hat mir ein guter Freund daraufhin geliehen und es ward um mich geschehen.
Wie hast Du das Album beim erstmaligen Hören empfunden? Wie würdest Du es beschreiben und was macht es so wichtig für Dich?
Ein wenig angeekelt und fasziniert gleichzeitig. Das Debütalbum von Bobby Konders ist ein Paradebeispiel für die gescheiterte Ehe von underground dance music und dem Versuch, diese für den Massenmarkt tauglich zu machen. Das Resultat ist meist weder Fisch noch Fleisch. Vor allem in der causa Konders. Der Boy aus New Jersey mit Wohnsitz Brooklyn expandierte seinen Vibe aus House, Reggae, Hip Hop und Soul um einige Unzen Pop. Einer US-amerikanischen Version der Erfolgsformel aus Jazzie B und Soul II Soul gleich, betörte und bezirzte Konders diesen Markt – wohl relativ erfolglos für die damaligen Verhältnisse. Was dieses Scheitern so charmant macht, ist allerdings der unbedingte Wille, die dominanten Machismos der Dancehall und das Straßenimage von Hip Hop mit den doch eher ambivalenten Geschlechterrollen und philanthropischen Utopien der Housemusik zu vereinen, unter einem Regenschirm von Soul und R&B. Solchen Querdenkern und Querulanten kann man nicht genug Respekt bezollen.
Es wurde in den letzten Jahren gehörig Schindluder getrieben mit dem Wild Pitch-Begriff. Hunderte von Tracks, die einfach nur lang und im Aufbau etwas ausladender Natur waren, wurden von faulen Journalisten in diese Schublade gesteckt. Dabei ist Herkunft und Machart von Wild Pitch club- und musikhistorisch in guter Quellenlage. Eine Gruppe von DJs in New York, u. a. Bobby Konders, Victor Rosado, Kenny Carpenter, John Robinson, David Camacho, Timmy Richardson und eben DJ Pierre, versuchten mit einer Party-Reihe namens Wild Pitch die Lücke zu schließen, welche mit der Schließung der Paradise Garage im Jahr 1987 einherging. Die Musik dazu war ähnlich wie in Levans Legendenstätte, nur der Anteil von Reggae und House war gestiegen. DJ Pierre verarbeitete seine Erlebnisse dort 1990 in dem Track ”Generate Power“, und entwickelte dafür eine neue Stilausprägung von House, die er nach dem Club benannte. Das Grundprinzip war im Grunde genommen einfach. Über etwas ungelenke Beats, die diesen speziellen watscheligen Groove entwickeln, schichtete er im gemächlichen Takt von mehreren Minuten Element über Element: Bass, Akkorde, Ravesignale, Stimmen, Perkussion, Zerrsounds, schließlich stehende Strings, alles was recht war, immer schön eins nach dem anderen, immer noch eine Schippe drauf. Das Ganze entwickelt in der Summe eine hypnotische Sogwirkung mit strikter Vorwärtsrichtung, die sich mit jedem addiertem Element potenziert und nach und nach, scheinbar endlos und doch immer intensiver, einem Höhepunkt entgegensteuert, sich dann imposant entlädt, und danach wieder behutsam heruntergefahren wird. Das erinnerte nicht von ungefähr an sehr guten Sex, wenn es gut gemacht war klang es auch so. Pierre begriff schnell, dass er nach seinem Geistesblitz mit den modulierten Bassklängen der Roland TB-303, aus denen dann Acid House wurde, hiermit einen weiteren, noch nie da gewesenen Sound parat hatte, den er in den Folgejahren konsequent verfeinerte. Und wie bei Acid House ließen sich andere Produzenten von der Idee anstecken. Leute wie Roy Davis Jr., Spanky bei Strictly Rhythm, Maurice Joshua, Nate Williams und DJ Duke bei Power Music, dann etwas szeneexterner Junior Vasquez oder X-Press 2 und zahllose weitere Epigonen. Und wie immer war das Prinzip dann irgendwann ausgereizt, war vom ganzen Interpretieren ganz ausgeleiert, ließ sich nicht mehr mit neuen Trends verknüpfen. Und wie immer wurde es dann irgendwann später wieder hervorgeholt, und mit frischen Ideen versetzt klappte es dann auch wieder. ”Muzik“ von 1992 ist Wild Pitch der klassischen Phase im Moment seiner höchsten Vollendung. Eine Lehrstunde in Aufbau und Wirkung. Wer immer sich gegenwärtig Wild Pitch auf die Fahne schreiben möchte, möge doch bitte vorher hier vorbeischauen, denn von den Siegern lernen, heißt siegen lernen.
Auch wenn er vermutlich niemals aus dem Kollektivgedächtnis der House-Liebhaber verschwinden wird, es soll hier, aus zu immer gegebenen Anlass, abermals an den legendärsten Abtrünnigen in der Geschichte von House erinnert werden: Bobby Konders. Er mastermixte sich bis Anfang der 90er Jahre bei New Yorks Radiosender WBLS einen klangvollen Namen mit House, Reggae, Hip Hop und Disco-Klassikern, dann erschütterte er in einem überschaubaren Zeitraum von 1989 bis 1993 die Clubkultur mit Platten, in denen er die oben genannten Musikstile zu Produktionen verknüpfte, die immer noch ihresgleichen suchen. Seine Soundidee klingt in der Theorie simpel, war aber in der Ausführung zum Verzweifeln originär. Konders injizierte die Bassschwere und das Raum- und Zeitgefühl von Dub in den House-Sound, reicherte dies mit der Tiefe und Virtuosität von Peter Daous Keyboards an, dem wohl klassischsten aller New Yorker Studiomusiker der dortigen Szene, und erzeugte so eine Musik, die gleichzeitig drücken und schweben konnte, und bei aller rohen Unmittelbarkeit stets erhaben und überlegen schien. Selbst bei einer etwas wirr anmutenden Abfolge von Remix-Auftragsarbeiten zwischen den Associates, Foremost Poets bis hin zu Herb Alpert, ließ sich dieses Patentrezept problemlos übersetzen, stets war das Ergebnis der pure Bobby Konders-Zauber, in bestechend konsistenter Qualität. Diese EP von 1990 ist das Manifest dieser Schaffensperiode. Egal ob dubbiger Acid („Nervous Acid“), deeper Flöten-House (“The Poem“), technoider Freestyle (“Let There Be House“), oder rootsiger Hypno-House (“Massai Women”), mit den dazugehörigen Versions, jeder der sechs Tracks wurde zu einem Klassiker, fortwährendes Zeugnis vom immensen Talent eines Produzenten, seine Vorlieben und Ideen scheinbar mühelos in einen Trademark-Sound zu transferieren, der stets gültig bleibt, und an dem sich bis in alle Zeiten die Epigonen die Zähne ausbeißen werden. Und was macht das Genie, das viel besungene? Es pfeift auf die bedingungslose Verehrung seiner Anhängerschar, legt sich auf seine erste, größere Liebe zu Reggae und Dancehall fest, und produziert nie wieder einen House-Track. Keine Retrospektiven, Überredungskünste oder Gagenangebote, die sich zu Clubkultur verhalten wie Abba zu Pop, haben daran etwas ändern können. Es hat natürlich auch nicht geholfen, dass seine Karriere in diesem… anderen… Betätigungsfeld seiner Wahl ähnlich legendär und einflussreich verlief, und wesentlich mehr Geld einbrachte. Was bleibt ist ein Werk von erdrückendem Ausnahmestatus, und die Erkenntnis, dass es niemals wieder vorkommen sollte, dass jemand von solchen Gaben einfach abspringt. Von noch so einer Verschmähung, solch einem tiefen Schock, würde sich House wohl nicht mehr erholen können.
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