Spätestens seitdem die Gibb-Brüder ab Mitte der 1970er höchst erfolgreich auf Tanzfläche umschalteten, war klar, dass Disco als System offen genug war, auch das Karrieretief von anderen Künstlern zwischen MOR-Soft Rock und Country aufzufangen. Wem Disco in der klassischen Ausprägung zu schwarz oder zu schwul war, konnte alsbald Stücke auf Alben in diesem weiten Feld finden, die sich entweder zaghaft über R&B-Anleihen oder wagemutig über 4/4-Funktionalität an die Glitzerclubs der großen Städte annäherten. Es dauerte gleichermaßen nicht lang bis die dortigen DJs erkannten, dass es der notwendigen Emotionalität ihrer Morgenstunden-Sets absolut nicht schadete, klassische Disco- und Soulballaden mit ein paar flashigen Rockschiebern zu verbinden. Das Grundgefühl zählte, und die Barrieren zwischen den Songwriting-Traditionen waren nicht mehr hoch genug um zu verhindern, dass sich eine Schnittmenge vormaliger Antipoden ergab, an der sowohl jene Freude haben konnten, denen Clubkultur eigentlich nichts bedeutete, als auch jene, denen Rock per se zu unfunky und weißbrotig war. Wenn man sich die gegenwärtige Renaissance von discoiden Rocksongs anschaut, ist das im Prinzip auch so geblieben, auch wenn diese ungleiche Liebesaffäre in der Disco-Ära eine Episode blieb, die allen Beteiligten in der späteren Rückschau eher unangenehm war. „Lotta Love“ von 1978 ist jedenfalls die Krone dieser Schöpfungen. Eine Neil Young-Backgroundsängerin interpretiert einen Song desselben, und wie so oft bei ihm entwickelt sich der Song erst in der Coverversion zu einem atemberaubenden Großereignis (siehe auch die ähnlich gelagerte Version von „Only Love Can Break Your Heart“ von Elkie Brooks). Auf dem dazugehörigen Album von Nicolette Larson ist der Song noch traditioneller Country Rock, schön auch, aber ohne jegliche Dancefloor-Traute. Die ergab sich erst durch den wunderschönen Mix von Jim Burgess, der den Song an den entscheidenden Stellen aufpolsterte und somit zur endgültigen Hymne all derer machte, die an strategisch ungemein wichtigen Punkten der Nacht bzw. des Morgens eine gehörige Dosis Liebe benötigen. Nicht die bedingungslose, überwältigende Liebe, die als Ideal alles in Schutt und Asche legt, aber in der Realität als nicht überlebensfähiges Trugbild verpufft. Es geht um die Liebe, in der man gibt und nimmt, die Liebe, die man sich gemeinsam erschließt, allen Unwegsamkeiten zum Trotz, um davon ein Leben lang gut zu haben.
We’re sorted out for E’s and Wizz, the stereo of the overcrowded Jensen Interceptor heading up the M25 is blasting out The Spinmasters, while the Druffalos either make guestlist calls, read the latest Morley or WSC, sort out which trainers to wear or look nervously on the fuel display. We await 20000 hardcore members in longsleeves in a disused hangar in the middle of a field. We saw the lasers a while ago but we already missed the exit three times, ran out of water and beer, got police on our back, and it’s getting pitch dark.
This is the sound of the Druffalo Hit Squad’s UK edition of the international Rave Chronicles. Now hear this!
Bassheads – Non Verbal Communication (Deconstruction) Shades Of Rhythm – Musical Freedom (Aquatic) Yin Yang – Oh One (Rumour) Dr. Baker – Kaos (Desire) Orbital – Fahrenheit 3D3 (FFRR) The Garden Of Eden – The Serpent In The Garden (Pepper) Mark Rutherford – Get Real (Fourth & Broadway) Nemesis – After The Storm (Intrigue) Break The Limits – Fire Away (Break The Limits) Hardcore – Get A Little Stupid (XL) Nicolette – Single Minded People (Shut Up And Dance) Paradox – Jailbreak (Ronin) For This II – Trak 1 (Ozone) Eurythmics – Sweet Dreams (RCA) Midi Rain – Always (Vinyl Solution) N Joi – Malfunction (Deconstruction) Bizarre Inc – Technological (Blue Chip) Baby Ford – Fordtrax (Rhythm King) Altern 8 – Objective (Network) C & M Connection – Bio Rhythms (Network) The Black Dog – Erb (General Productions) Nightmares On Wax- Aftermath (Warp) Unique 3 – The Theme (Ten) Cyclone – A Place Called Bliss (Network) Fila Brazillia – Mermaids (Pork) A Guy Called Gerald – Untitled (CBS) 808 State – Pacific State (ZTT) Fine Young Cannibals – I’m Not The Man I Used To Be
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 »
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