As soon as the House sound left the local underground and went to the international charts, the Major record labels began scouting its most prominent artists for remix duties. The main motivation was to lend some credibility to mainstream and commercial club music, the same as it was in the Disco era that led up to House music’s pioneering days. A lot of the prolific remixers, particularly those already active throughout the early to mid 80s, could extend their career well into the following era. But there were a lot of additions too, DJs that began in the Disco era and did not give up on dance music when the classic Disco era ended at the end of the 70s, and of course new talent that just found their into the business by supplying the platters that mattered on the floor. And as it happened with Disco, House formed the basis for reworks of Pop originals that managed to surpass the original versions, either in truthful versions that just updated the beats and grooves, or more adventurous flipside dubs that stamped the self-confidence of the studio newcomers all over their source material. Here are some outstanding examples for the interaction of overground and underground.
Jimmy Somerville – Comment Te Dire Adieu (Kevin Saunderson Remix) (London, 1989)
Kevin Saunderson was hot property after the chart success of his project Inner City, but the A&R department at London probably did not enlist him to show off his underground signature of granite beats and excavating basslines, turning Somerville’s charming rendition of the Serge Gainsbourg classic into a Detroit Techno banger of the variety of Saunderson’s aliases such as E-Dancer and Reese. It’s a stunning soundclash of both original version and remix though, and both sides remain in character, and both benefit from each other. As it should be.
De La Soul – A Roller Skating Jam Named “Saturdays” (6:00 AM Mix) (Tommy Boy, 1991)
Not long after Frankie Knuckles and David Morales formed Def Productions they became to 90s New York House what Gamble & Huff were to 70s Philadelphia Soul, and turned in remixes in a sleepless studio schedule, week in week out. What distinguished them from most of their peers was that they managed to maintain a supreme quality standard while at it, for years. Here David Morales reworks De La Soul coming back from the Daisy Age with their feelgood hit for the weekend, offering three superior deep jams that are all equally brilliant. Buy double copies and just zip on by (spinnin’ and winnin’).
The Sugarcubes – Hit (Sweet’N Low Mix) (One Little Indian, 1991)
Björk the icon of clubland was not inaugurated with „Debut“, but with the remix compilation „It’s-It“ by her former band The Sugarcubes. The remixes compiled were a diverse set from which the Tony Humphries versions of „Hit“ and „Leash Called Love“ stood out (well wait, Tommy D’s remix of „Birthday“ is mighty fine as well). The record company even called them „those absurd large Tony Humphries mixes“, and deservedly so. While „Leash Called Love“ is pumping and rolling towards David Morales territory, a spectacular anthem in its own right, „Hit“ has the more typical sound associated with the New Jersey don, with all the unashamedly artificial string pads and tinny beats he so loved to use around that time, and everything about it is completely irresistible. „This wasn’t supposed to happen“, she sang. But it was.
Debbie Gibson – One Step Ahead (Masters At Work Mix) (Atlantic, 1991)
Debbie Gibson preceded the all-american stardom of Britney Spears by a decade, but when she surfaced in the late 80s the only thing that she could stick in my mind was the rather remarkable song title „Electric Youth“. I suspect Masters At Work felt similarly, as they kept literally no elements of the original song in what became one of their most beloved remixes (although there are admittedly quite a few other contenders in their vast discography). This is one for the true school Deep House fraternity, keeping you locked with a simple but unmatched hypnotic chord, while all the other sounds and rhythms come and go, creating a perfect trip that seems to last much longer than its 5 minutes plus.
David Bowie – Real Cool World (Cool Dub Overture) (Warner Bros., 1992)
Credible dance remixes for the original Star Man are surprisingly scarce, and this is arguably the finest. Def Mix’s Satoshi Tomiie at the controls, thankfully not repeating the cardinal error of most rock stars trying to connect with nightlife: mounting generic guitars on a limp dance groundwork. Instead he opts for a rather skippy groove, but his trademark keyboards are arranged immersed enough to keep up the tension for sublime 13 minutes. And don’t you dare touch that intro!
Jamie J. Morgan – Why (Extended Club Mix) (Tabu, 1992)
The contributions of the Buffalo collective to late 80s and early 90s club culture are not to be underestimated (associate Neneh Cherry did not reinvent herself with „Buffalo Stance“ for nothing). Photographer and director Morgan was another core member, and also had a few ventures into pop music. Eric Kupper, the studio wizard responsible for countless New York club classics, turns the original into a silky floating groove, with just about the right amount of floor pressure to not disturb the beauty and sentiment. As always when Eric Kupper works with this very mood, it is untouchable. And again, don’t you dare to touch that intro.
Pet Shop Boys – Can You Forgive Her? (MK Remix) (EMI USA, 1993)
There are many great remixes of Pet Shop Boys songs, but if there is one grudge to hold against them it is that it could have been so many more. Few successful remixers employed for pop artists had a contrasting signature sound such as Detroit’s MK, who turned source material into something completely his own with perplexing regularity. And as expected he turns the boisterous original into a mean and dark swinging groover. There are a lot of speculations on how Marc Kinchen chooses the lyrical content for his trademark vocal loops, but lesser minds would probably have gone for the „she made you some kind of laughing stock, because dance to Disco and you don’t like Rock“ bit. Instead he opted to accompany the breakdown with „Pain. She demands my pain. She demands meet your pain. She demands my bicycle“. This cannot be random, this is pure genius.
Daniela Mercury – O Canto Da Cidade (Murk Boys Miami Mix) (Sony Latin, 1993)
I do not know what led the A&R department at Sony to choose the Murk Boys to remix one of the most popular songs in the oeuvre of one of Brazil’s most popular female singers, maybe somebody thought at least it has something to do with Latin music?! However intended, it was a bold move. As per usual, Miami’s finest ignore whatever anthemic qualities they could have used with the original parts they were given (apart from a puzzling vocal loop worthy of MK), and strip everything down to their tried and tested booming grooves and monolithic basslines. Compare the original to this mix to get a glimpse of how radical and nonchalant you could treat your employers and get away with it. The intro? Do not dare to touch it!
Deee-Lite – Try Me On (Plaid Remix) (Elektra, 1996)
Deee-Lite assembled a diverse array of remixers for their compilation „Sampladelic Relics & Dancefloor Oddities“, but it was Plaid’s mix that seemed to kick them off their holographic hoopty just before they actually disbanded. This is not playfully psychedelic, it is REALLY tripping. Try to imagine the three of them throwing their wonderful stage moves to this eerie low riding sub bass adventure, it is just not happening. But times had changed, and times were not day-glo anymore. But Deee-Lite went out with as much style as they entered.
Mama Cass – Make Your Own Kind Of Music (Yum Club Mix) (MCA Soundtracks, 1997)
Hot on the heels of the soundtrack to „Beautiful Thing“, which consisted almost entirely of songs sung by The Mamas & Papas’ Mama Cass, came this 12“. Louie „Balo“ Guzman was more renowned for the harder variety of the New York House sound of the 90s, but then again a lot of his own productions and remixes already displayed the healthy amount of eccentricity required for the task of transforming a 60s Pop standard into a 90s club anthem. The way he molded the song into a working club track structure is beyond virtuoso, and the added instrumentation even adds to the song’s beauty. You may think this is really tacky (and flutey), but think again. If played at the perfect moment, this record can change lives. I have seen it happen.
Yes, almost ten years since I left England. The reason was not by my design. I was enjoying America so much that I overstayed my visa. If I was to leave, I would have not been allowed back for another five or ten years and I was planning on making my life there. And only a year and a half ago I got married and applied for my green card. And I now have the green card, and my work visa and my right to travel and re-enter the States. So here I am, back in the world. I recently completed a big tour of Japan and I’m on a major tour of Europe right now.
You got married and still it took such a while to get your green card?
Well, actually the process is a lot quicker now than it used to be. From the time I put my application in it was actually only four months until the card came through. Since 9/11 the background check is a little more stringent, but the whole process is now centralized, instead of the department in Washington, and the department in Detroit and so on. There’s one computer, and if you fit the criteria then it’s all good.
So you spent all those years of your self-imposed exile just playing in the States?
Yes, but on a regular basis. America is a big place. And I have a regular circuit. Starting on the Northeast coast, Detroit, Chicago, New York City, Philadelphia, Washington, Miami, then skipping over to the other side, San Diego, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Boulder and Seattle. And that’s not even including Hawaii. So that’s plenty of work, even if I do that once every couple of months.
But your main bases are Hawaii, Los Angeles and New York City?
Basically yes. My most regular gigs would be there.
Would you say that these are also the cities where your music fits best? Is there a better scene for what you play?
Everywhere I play people come to hear me play. I regularly play in Miami for the Winter Music Conference and Art Basel, that’s my two gigs a year mainly there. Towns like San Diego and San Francisco have a scene, too. Most of the places have a scene as such. It’s not the biggest scene, but with all the internet communication and stuff like that it’s small but healthy.
And since you are allowed to travel again, is it some kind of relief and you accept many gigs abroad?
Not really. It is nice to travel and just to have the freedom. I haven’t been around for ten years so it’s nice to pop out and go to Japan and Europe again. But I don’t plan to spend the next ten years on the road. There are a lot of opportunities, basically everywhere I ever played before plus twice as many places again.
How does it feel to get out again? Has the scene changed in the meantime?
I don’t think it has changed at all.
Is that disappointing?
No, that’s not disappointing at all. I always had a good time. There are certain focuses on particular kinds of music over the years, whether it’s Electroclash, or Minimal, or Drum ‘n’ Bass, but in general the dance music scene still goes bang bang bang between 110 and 130 bpm. And I don’t really see boundaries between the so-called genres. I play the music that I like, whether it’s a Techno record, or a Disco record, or whatever. I think more than the music has changed the people have changed. Kids that weren’t born when I was DJing in the mid 80’s are now in their mid 20’s, there’s a whole new generation of people who have come through as well as the survivors from the old school. The formula of a dance party is still very similar. I suppose communication via internet had an impact. Even though I have been away for ten years people know exactly what I have been doing. It’s not like I completely disappeared during that time. The networking has made sure that my influence via production or gossip has been maintained.
I think the internet helped to keep your status alive. All you did was thoroughly discussed on specialist websites and message boards. I guess this is quite different to how it was before.
Yeah. Scenes used to be localized, and now it’s globalized. Which is good and bad. If something fresh happens in a small area it doesn’t have time to develop, it is instantly global. Early Punk or Hip Hop had two to five years a hardcore scene as such. Whereas now, as soon as there’s a bright idea it’s everywhere in the world and everyone’s had a piece of it before it maybe manages to have a big foundation.
Nowadays it might also be easier to get influenced by another DJ, or even to imitate somebody. In pre-internet days you could maybe get your hands on some mixtape, but it was difficult. Maybe you read about DJs, but you never had the chance to hear them. And now you can download tons of sets from legendary DJs, and from legendary clubs, too.
Yeah. I think that’s good and bad, too. These days I don’t let people record my sets. I suffered from heavy bootlegging. And a lot of the time when I play it’s for that moment. Maybe you’re sitting in your car, listening to a set, but you have no idea of the atmosphere or the climate at the moment when the record was being played. The tape might sound bizarre or disjointed or strange and it might not particularly work in the car or the boutique or at home. But at the particular moment, that was the right thing to do. So I try and keep my sets for the people who were there and it’s for memory banks only.
So you think it gets watered down?
It’s a double-edged sword. Sometimes there’s a little bit too much access. Some of the mystery is gone. If you think of DJs like Ron Hardy, I’ve only see one small grainy photograph of him, and you wonder who this guy is and what his character is. If you want to find about me, just hit Wikipedia, DJ Harvey images, and you know what I look like, my style. But there is a little mystery to who or what I am and I quite enjoy that. Luckily the personal appearance still counts for something. Because they have had absolutely everything besides me physically. And here I am, in the flesh, I actually exist. I’m not just this digital entity. Read the rest of this entry »
Im Gespräch mit Boris Dlugosch über “Dance To The Music” von Junior Byron (1983).
Hast Du Junior Byrons “Dance To The Music” zum ersten Mal gehört, als Du anfingst ins Front zu gehen?
Ich glaube, ich hatte den Titel zuerst auf einer Front-Cassette, die ich von einem Freund bekommen hatte. Also nicht ‘live’ im Front.
Du warst ja damals noch ziemlich jung. Wie bist Du eigentlich darauf gekommen dort hinzugehen? Hattest Du von Freunden gehört, dass man dort Musik zelebrierte, die Dir gefiel?
Also es war 1984, ich war 16 und die Schwester meines besten Freundes kannte den Kassierer des Front, Boris Breit. Er gab uns Front-Cassetten und hatte zwei Plattenspieler und ein Mischpult. Bei ihm zuhause verbrachten wir dann die Nachmittage nach der Schule und versuchten uns an seinen Plattenspielern und dem Mischpult. Er hatte vor allem Disco-Platten, kaufte aber auch fleißig aktuelleres Zeug bei Tractor-Schallplatten, dem damals besten Laden in Hamburg für Dance-Musik. Er hatte also die Musik, die im Front lief, bei ihm hörte ich die Sachen zuerst und dann wollte ich natürlich unbedingt einmal dorthin. Read the rest of this entry »
In discussion with Johnny Dynell on “Jam Hot” by Johnny Dynell and New York 88 (1983).
In 1980 you started your DJing career in New York’s seminal Mudd Club and then you played every club important to the downtown scene in the following years. Is “Jam Hot” the sum of what you experienced as a DJ?
The opposite, actually – “Jam Hot” was very near the BEGINNING of my DJ career.
Would you say that some clubs you played at were more relevant for the sound of “Jam Hot” than others?
Danceteria is where “Jam Hot” was born and I DJed there but it was really all the discos and latin clubs like La Escuelita and G.G. Barnum’s that inspired me. In fact, on the back cover of “Jam Hot” is a picture of my beautiful wife Chi Chi sitting in the famous swing at G.G. Barnum’s. Read the rest of this entry »
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 »
Ich möchte heute die Rubrik dazu nutzen, um auf ein eher weniger beachtetes Opfer der Musikwirtschaftskrise hinzuweisen: den housigen Undergroundmix für normalerweise nicht housige Artists. In Zeiten, in denen Remixbudgets von Majorlabels die Beträge für die Praktikantenbetreuung nicht mehr übersteigen dürfen, A&R-Leute mit noch wesentlich mehr Verspätung ein Ohr von außen an die Mauern der Clubs halten, oder sich allgemein eingeredet wird, der Auftragsproduzent des Originaltracks könne die Dance-Version bestimmt auch gut machen, können sie nicht mehr wohl gedeihen, die seltsamen Blüten, die entstehen, wenn Bürostrategen, die nicht tanzen, auf Produzenten treffen, die nur bedingt in Chartsnotierungen denken. Die Blütezeit dieser Untergattung der House-Historie ist von den spätern 80ern bis Mitte der 90er datierbar, als krude Illusionen von Tanzflächenkredibilität gepaart mit prallen Marketingkampfkassen auf die Crème de la Crème der Clubkultur trafen, oder auch nur auf die Auftragsallzwecktypen, die sich für keinen Auftragsallzweck zu schade waren. Letztere gab es in der Clubkultur schon seit immerdar. Konzentrieren wir uns also lieber auf die Ersteren. Und vernachlässigen wir auch die Grundvorrausetzung dieser schiefen Konstellationen, nämlich dass sowohl Auftraggeber als auch Interpret das Endergebnis völlig gleichgültig ist, bis hin zur kompletten Verleugnung desselben bzw. peinlicher Zurschaustellung von nicht einmal Einviertelfachwissen, wenn die Dance-Version unerwarteterweise die Originalversion in Verkaufszahlen übertrumpft. Demgegenüber liefern die housigen Undergroundmixer zumeist genau das, was den nicht housigen Artists nur allzu offensichtlich fehlt. Die selbstverständliche Anbindung an Geschrei und Arme in der Luft, Schweiß, Sex und Tränen der Augenblicks-Ekstase und des Wochenendglücks. Und den Beweis, dass die jeweilige Zauberformel mit jedem Interpreten und Song funktioniert, solange man sich die Werktreue für die Radioversion aufhebt, und in den Dub- und Instrumentalversionen den dicken Hund von der Leine lässt. Es gibt sehr sehr viele Platten, wo dieses Prinzip hervorragend funktioniert, und dann Menschen auf der Tanzfläche zu Interpreten ausflippen, über die sie im Tagesgeschehen nicht einmal nachdenken würden. Indiskutables Popgeträller wird zu rhythmisch zerhackten Samples ohne stimmlichen Wiedererkennungswert, und Masters At Work machen aus Debbie Gibson, MK aus Bette Midler, DJ Pierre aus Donny Osmond, Shep Pettibone aus Paul McCartney, oder David Morales aus U2 unantastbare Clubikonen, für die Dauer des Tracks zumindest. One Little Indian hatte z. B. 1991 die merkwürdige Idee, ihre hauseigenen Indie-Superstars, die Sugarcubes, mit einem ganzen Remixalbum in der Clubszene zu vertäuen. Darauf waren, einige Mixe stinkenfaul, einige am Thema noch mehr vorbei als überhaupt befürchtet, einige uninteressant, einige interessant und einige waren echte Prachtexponate. Klarer Sieger des Wettbewerbs war für mich Tony Humphries, der seine schon anderswo demonstrierte Fähigkeit, großzügig eine Schicht New Jersey-Zauber über artfremde Musik zu legen, hier noch weit übertraf. Und er schaffte es, obwohl er sowohl alle kaprioligen Gesangsmanierismen der Sängerin unangetastet ließ, als auch dem knurrigen Sängerhünen seinen Lauf ließ. Im wunderbaren Klanguniversum von Humphries zu seiner besten Schaffensphase hat das alles seinen Platz, und wird zudem noch von allerlei feinsten Geistesblitzen erhellt. Für Humphries mag das nur eine Episode geblieben sein, aber Björk kehrte nie wieder zu Schrammelpop zurück, und für alle anderen war es ein gleißendes Himmelslicht im zwielichtigen Dunst von Körpern und Substanzen.
„This wasn’t supposed to happen, I was happy by myself, accidentally, you seduced me, I’m in love again“.
The Sugarcubes – Leash Called Love / Hit (One Little Indian, 1991)
Right, we’re going to set it off with “Set It Off”. Basically with “Set It Off”, growing up in New York in the 70’s and 80’s, I grew up with my parents and my brother – my brother being a DJ since 1980, and there were a lot of musical roots in my household. I was always around music. Mostly disco and electro, stuff like that. Growing up with my parents in the 70’s, they were really big on disco and I was hearing everything from “Ten Percent” by Double Exposure to so many underground disco records, like from 76, Jimmy and the Vagabonds, or Crown Heights Affair. Old school disco. I always had roots in the family. My father also had a pretty big rock collection from the late 60’s – Sabbath, Zeppelin, psychedelic rock. That was played probably when I was really younger, but 74/75 my parents were already getting into disco at that time. The roots of the music were always there with me and I would buy records on the occasion. I remember buying Fatback Band’s “King Tim III” which was pretty much the first rap record, Michael Jackson – “Don’t Stop ‘Til You Get Enough”, “Let’s All Chant”, stuff like that. I was like 7 or 8 years old buying this stuff but I was never really into DJing at this time. My brother was the DJ. He was the one buying the records and DJing. He knew what was going on musically. I would say when I really first started to pay attention to music a lot, but I still was not a DJing, was around 83/84, and I was around 12 years old at the time and I was getting into graffiti which I was actually documenting on subway trains by photographs. I was travelling from Brooklyn to the Bronx. I was going everywhere with a camera – all four boroughs that had a subway system. The records at that time were a lot of electro stuff that was being played. A lot of freestyle like C-Bank’s “One More Shot” or “Al-Naafiysh” by Hashim. I still didn’t really know who the artists were and stuff like that, but I knew the records and heard them all the time on the radio. Around 84 I went to a break dancing club at a roller skating rink to watch a bunch of people battling, and I heard “Set It Off” for the first time. I don’t know what it was with that record but it fit all the movies I liked at that time: New York movies like The Warriors, Death Wish. It was just this dark record that was kind of like the soundtrack of New York City at the time, when New York City was just like in urban decay. On my way somewhere with my parents you would see all these abandoned building like in Berlin in 1945 in certain areas. Then taking the train to the South Bronx and seeing that…I have such a vivid memory of being on the Pelham subway line going to see one of the most famous Graffiti writers in New York called Seen, who was in the documentary Style Wars, and I befriended him when I was probably like 13. He used to airbrush t-shirts in a flea market. I don’t know why music always has a place in a moment that you can remember a certain situation. I can remember being in that flea market and then playing that track. It was just like the track of tracks. It was the soundtrack of graffiti, of New York, the rawness. When I got into techno in about 1990 and I went to trace back all the records that I’d been collecting and I would go back and listen to that record it just sounded so current. Not current to what techno was, but on the production level. When you listen to other electro records or freestyle records from that time, nothing has that 808 feel like “Set It Off” does. That production is just sick. The bassline. There’s really no other record from that time period, apart from maybe “Hip Hop Be Bop” or “Boogie Down Bronx”, that should have been the soundtrack to The Warriors. It’s just an amazing track. The irony of whole record being my favourite record is that it was produced on a label located in Ocean Avenue in Brooklyn, so that record was made probably two miles from where I lived. I guess Walter Gibbons produced Strafe, but it was made in Brooklyn. It’s a 100% Brooklyn. That record… the build up, the vocals, just everything about it…I could listen to it over and over again on repeat mode.
Would you say they produced a prototype with this? It’s a lot darker than most of the electro productions around that time.
I think it’s definitely the prototype for a lot of the future electro stuff that was coming out through the techno scene in the 90’s. Anybody making electro music at that time had to know that record. You have “Planet Rock” and you have “Clear” by Cybotron but that record just stands out for me. It’s such a better record. I love the other records but when I hear “Set It Off” the goose bumps come up. It sounds like something from a John Carpenter movie. It could be from “Assault On Precinct 13”, even if you can’t mess with that soundtrack. It is in the same mode as that. It gives the same feeling, and the same vibe and mood. Those eerie chord strings in the back and the bassline. You can’t mess with it.
> Ryuichi Sakamoto – Riot In Lagos
The next one is “Riot in Lagos” by Ryuichi Sakamoto.
This is an interesting track that Bones had turned me onto in probably sometime in the early to mid 90’s. He was refreshing my memory on records that were on when we used to go to roller skating rinks, and one of the other records was Kasso’s “Key West”. I remember he was playing all these records and I was like flabbergasted by the sounds and the music and how futuristic it was for 80’/81′. The thing was when I got into techno and I realised what electronic music was, and I’m hearing Bones and Lenny Dee – this is the 808, this is the 909 – trying to get my head around all these machines, and Bones was playing me records later on saying “these are the first 808 records, or 909 drum rhythm records”, and I never looked at the music I was listening to in the early 80’s, like Kraftwerk, as electronic music or acoustic music – I never made that difference in my head. I never sat there and thought “Oh, I like music with synthesisers”. When I heard this Sakamoto record, I kind of recalled hearing it but it didn’t really ring a bell in a big way for me. But it did ring my bell. [laughs] I was like “Whoa! What the fuck is this?” because I guess it’s got that Eastern, Asian kind of melody sound to it. That is a one of a kind record. There is nothing that sounds like that. I have never, ever heard another record ever sound like that. It cannot be copied.
It even sounded different to the sound Sakamoto was doing with Yellow Magic Orchestra.
Yeah. There is another Sakamoto record that I got a little later on, once I realised who he was, that is quite rare. Not many people know it, it’s called “Lexington Queen”. It’s amazing. It was released as a 12” and also a 45 as well. I probably should have been digging a little deeper on Sakamoto stuff, when I was doing my East kind of record shopping ten years ago, when I was looking for all this 80’s stuff. But I heard a few things by him that didn’t hit me the way those two records hit me. But “Riot In Lagos” is just a special record, what a special piece of electronic music. It’s up there with Kraftwerk.
It is pioneering electronic music, but from a very different angle.
Again, it’s got that Japanese sound to it. Whatever Japanese electronic music was in the 80’s, I don’t really know much about it, but this is a brilliant track. Read the rest of this entry »
This is a 70’s reggae track by Jackie Mittoo. It’s almost Minimal, very basic.
True. It’s got some Techno appeal, it’s just rhythm. That’s what I like about this Dub stuff, there are so many things you can recognize that were used later on in electronic music like House and Techno. Dub was so important for that.
So these ancient production techniques are still valid? There seems to be a direct line from Jamaica to today’s productions.
Yeah, I listen to Dub. I don’t listen to a lot, but I like some of it. But I like to use the state of mind of Dub in my music. It’s more a musician thing. I like to use the techniques of it. I’m getting more into the music, too. It’s amazing, the way they were mixing the bass and the drums in the 70’s. Really crazy.
They also put some emphasis on just doing tracks, not songs.
It really is the basis of what came afterwards, from Hip Hop to House to Techno. Drum and Bass also, of course. They all took elements from Dub, that’s really interesting.
> Yukihiro Takahashi – Walking To The Beat (Pick Up Records)
The next one is by Yellow Magic Orchestra’s Yukihiro Takahashi. A Synthpop track.
It is interesting. It has this kind of proto-House feeling. What I really liked was this crazy soprano sax solo at the end. It is almost like Free Jazz, for 30 or 40 seconds, and then it stops. That was quite bold.
I think he actually wanted to do some kind of pop hit though. The singer on this record is the one from the 80’s pop group Icehouse for example. But for a pop hit it is probably too weird.
I think the harmonies are built up quite traditionally, but this solo part really surprised me. It is almost like New York ‘s Post Punk era. Trying some new crazy stuff.
Maybe you should use some sax solo in a House track.
Well, I used to play sax in the past.
Really?
Yeah, for a long time. But I kind of really got tired of the sound and I don’t think I’m going to use it. But you never know. I started playing Alto Saxophone when I was 13 years old. I had tried piano a few years ago, but I wasn’t so much into it. I don’t remember why I chose saxophone, but I remember I wanted to do a wind instrument. With the saxophone, I learned to play jazz and I absolutely loved it! I began rehearsing with a few bands, mostly Jazz or Funk groups. When I discovered DJing, I was instantly hooked and I started playing less and less saxophone, until I quit around 2001. DJing, collecting and discovering music became more important for me. I dabbled into production around 1996, but got a home studio setup two years later. I remember that my main reason for producing was that I found that certain records were lacking something or were arranged in a way that I thought was not so effective. I was thinking “Hmm, the producer should have put this part first” or “the chord there doesn’t sound nice although the beat is dope”. After a while I just thought I should make my own tracks.
I remember that a lot of the early Deep House tracks used the same sax sound. Really flat and synthetic. They seldom used a real saxophone, always this cheap sound effect.
(Patti Labelle’s “Eyes In The Back Of My Head” is heard from the hotel bar nearby…)
That’s a big song for us. I’ve got eyes, eyes in the back of my head, I got eyes. Some wicked song. Anyway…
We’ve got this section called legends. This is where we would like to present you.
Okay. (Waiter brings a bottle of champagne) Thanks … You can have some, too, what the hell. He should bring some more glasses. Could you bring some more glasses? Thank you. Okay. So, what do you want to know?
You’ve got a long history, but you just started a label. So it would be great to hear things of the past and what you plan for the near future too. If you have look at which kind of electronic music history people refer to, it’s mostly Detroit and Chicago and New York. When it comes to New York, it’s mostly Hip Hop. Not that much house. I think House is for a special crowd.
You mean currently? That what you feel it is currently?
Yeah. It seems like people don’t really recognize the long history of House music in New York and don’t give it the attention it deserves.
Well, I believe it’s inclusive of too many different types of other genres. That’s what. It’s like too big of an animal to control. I think it’s too big of a genre because it’s inclusive of too many other little parts for the investors to try to really build upon. What I mean by that is that it is fragmented into Soulful House, Latin House, so many different types of House. Forget about it. Everybody likes to hold their own part of House music historically, so much. They all feel equally important. And it’s just too big for, like, majors to really get behind. That’s what I believe. Read the rest of this entry »
Gleichermaßen von dem Sexgnom aus Minneapolis und dem Leibhaftigen von ganz oben angeleitet, wagt sich Romanthony in der opulentesten Phase seines Exzentrikertums weit in die Schattenseiten des nichtigen Daseins vor, dort wo nur der Geist und das Wort das Chaos zu erhellen vermögen. Er ist der Coolste unter den Getriebenen, und er ist entschlossen seine alttestamentarische Botschaft in dein unwürdiges Ohr zu nageln. Zitternd unterwirft er sich der Gnadensprechung, gleichermaßen auf Erlösung und Verdammnis hoffend, doch er wirft einen lustvollen Seitenblick auf diejenigen, die verwirrt am Scheideweg erschauern und vergeblich auf eine Weisung hoffen. Tony Humphries und die Murk Boys konnten begreifen, um was es hier geht und sie waren stark genug, diesen unwegsamen Pfad zu betreten. Als sie wieder zurückkehrten, hatten sie diese dunkle Botschaft mitgebracht und alles vorher Bestehende war wie ausgelöscht.
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