Beatport: The #BeatportDecade in Techno @ Musique Non Stop |  |
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Posted: 16 Nov 2014 03:00 PM PST
#BeatportDecade is a series celebrating the past 10 years of dance music, providing insight into the artists, tracks and labels that drove the evolution of its sound and culture, and interviews with the people who made history.
In many ways, electronic dance music as we know it began with techno. In Detroit, in 1981, to be precise, with a fusion of black American funk and imported electro-pop that gave birth, almost simultaneously, to A Number of Names’ “Sharevari” and Cybotron’s “Alleys of Your Mind.” It all starts there. And yet, for much of the past decade, techno has been the underdog, overshadowed by house – the yang to techno’s yin. (House music, a descendant of disco, evolved in parallel and emerged at almost the same time, but it got its name later.) You could say that the two genres have swapped places in the popular imagination. Ten years ago, if someone asked you what kind of music you were into, you might have said “techno” and meant “techno and tech-house and progressive and minimal”; these days, you’d probably say “house” to cover a similar spectrum. Everything is house these days, or it wants to be, anyway, from Tiësto to Disclosure. Techno, meanwhile, has gone back underground. But to get a sense of how wildly dynamic electronic dance music can be, techno makes for an excellent case study – both for the way the music itself has evolved and for the ways that its fortunes have risen and fallen over the past decade. Flash back to 2004, a year before #BeatportDecade kicks off. Dance music was hardly at its healthiest, and Abe Duque‘s “What Happened?” offered a lament for the ailing scene. Over a rollicking, bare-bones groove – shuffling drums, two-note bassline, careening bleeps, all of it resolutely old-school in feel – the New York producer reeled off a list of shuttered clubs and bygone styles, with one notable gesture of defiance. (“Acid… what happened? Hip-house… what happened? Techno… what’s happening!”) Tapping into a vein of steely focus that stretched back to Jeff Mills‘ “The Bells,” Robert Hood‘s “Minimal Nation,” and DBX‘s “Losing Control,” Duque’s track offered proof that minimal techno was thriving. Ironically, by the end of the decade, it was minimal techno – or simply “minimal,” as it came to be known – that would prompt such a large-scale exodus from techno to house. Minimal gets a bad rap these days, but back in the mid 2000s it was the source of some of the most exciting developments in techno. Its exact definition was, and remains, vague; minimal encompasses a range of styles, from stripped-down, hypnotic grooves like Ricardo Villalobos‘ “Fizheuer Zieheuer” to ebullient tunes made up of small, clipped sounds, like Robag Wruhme‘s “Wuzzlebud KK.” Around 2005 and 2006, minimal was at its peak. Artists like Villalobos (The Au Harem du Archimedes), the Wighnomy Brothers (“Wombat”), and former progressive-house golden boy James Holden (“Lump”) were responsible for wildly innovative sound design bridging the analog and digital realms; every one of their records came accompanied by a walloping shock of the New. Artists like Minilogue (“Doiicie”), Gel Abril (“Very Wrong” and “Very Wrong (Chaim Remix)”) and Mathew Jonson (“Folding Space”) trafficked in hypnotic, psychedelic fusions of minimal techno with trance, while Loco Dice, already a rising superstar, extended minimal to a deeper, more contemplative place with tracks like “Black Truffles in the Snow,” off his 2008 album 7 Dunham Place. Minimal, despite the connotations of the term, made room for all kinds of impulses, including an abundance of melody. For an example of the latter, see Cologne’s Ada: her cover of Yeah Yeah Yeahs’ “Maps,” along with Michael Mayer and Tobias Thomas‘ remix, remains one of 2005’s most sparkling gems. These days, plenty of stuff that we used to call “minimal” would probably get filed under a different category. For years, Cologne’s Kompakt was tagged as a minimal imprint, but it has become clear that, at heart, they’re a techno label, full stop. For proof, just work back through the singles in their Speicher series, a showcase of techno at its most dizzingly diverse (and unfailingly effective). While minimal may have started out as a movement built upon wiry filaments of sound, that less-is-more sense of focus soon yielded a bounty of anthems, with nothing diminutive about them. A revival of classics like DBX’s 1994 cut “Losing Control” and Mika Vainio’s early Sahko recordings led directly to seesawing freakouts like Marc Houle‘s “Bay of Figs,” Function‘s “Reykjavik” and “Isotope,” and Audion‘s livewire “Noiser” and “Mouth to Mouth,” an even more unhinged explosion of sine waves. In a related vein was the carnivalesque minimalism of a tune like Gabriel Ananda‘s “Doppelwhipper,” its bells and whistles whipped into a polyrhythmic frenzy. Another first-generation minimal techno cut that came back in a big way was Plastikman‘s 1993 cut “Spastik,” which Dubfire reworked in 2007, just in time to introduce a whole new generation of ravers to one of minimal techno’s most fundamental tracks. (While we’re talking about minimal anthems, it’d be remiss not to mention Marc Houle’s “Techno Vocals,” which managed to poke fun at the minimal scene’s clichés without losing one iota of dancefloor effectiveness.) Speaking of anthems, Radio Slave combined minimal techno’s hypnotic repetition with tech house’s chugging sense of groove, yielding a catalogue that reveals him to be something like a one-man genre. Among his finest: “Bell Clap Dance,” Chelonis R. Jones’ “Deer in the Headlights (Radio Slave Remix),” “Grindhouse (Dubfire Terror Planet Remix),” Soylent Green’s “La Forza Del Destino (Radio Slave Remix),” “My Bleep (Roman Flügel Remix),” and his recent “Don’t Stop No Sleep,” an anthemic track made with little more than a handful of drums and voice. For those who may have been put off by minimal’s skeletal properties, techno provided a refuge in the form of a certain kind of classicism – the lush, emotive sonics rooted in the first- and second-wave Detroit techno of pioneers like Derrick May, Kevin Saunderson, Juan Atkins, and Carl Craig. Detroit veterans like Scan 7 (The Resistance), Robert Hood (Motor: Nighttime World Volume 3), and Kenny Larkin (“Drone,” Keys, Strings, Tambourines) spent the late 2000s and the early 2010s continuing to expand the expressive potential of chord-heavy arrangements and sleek drum programming. Jeff Mills continued to explore both his unique style of sci-fi techno (see, for instance, the 20-year compendium Sequence – A Retrospective of Axis Records) as well as more earthbound experiments like The Drummer 26, a set of percussive DJ tools recorded on a single TR-808 and based on the styles of iconic drummers like Art Blakey, Jack Dejohnette, and John Bonham. And Carl Craig fairly dominated the past decade with his trademark pumping chords and vertiginous builds. Beyond his original productions (see, for a start, 2008’s Sessions anthology and 2010’s four-part Legendary Adventures of a Filter King reissues of his material as 69), it was his remixes that really turned dancefloors upside down. Craig’s reworks of Theo Parrish’s “Falling Up,” Junior Boys’ “Like a Child,” Morgan Geist’s ‘Detroit,” Rhythm & Sound’s “Poor People Must Work,” Gavin Russom & Delia Gonzalez’ “Relevee,” Slam’s “Azure,” and Faze Action’s “In the Trees” all became instant classics upon release. Meanwhile, Motor City classicism also flourished across the globe. Deetron (“The Last Dance,” “Life Soundtrack” feat. DJ Bone, “Zircon,” “Rhythm” feat. Ben Westbeech, plus his amped-up remix of Legowelt’s “Rout”), Joris Voorn (“The Secret,” “For the People”), and Redshape (“What’s on a Moog’s Mind,” The Dance Paradox) all proved themselves skilled translators of Detroit techno’s sumptuous textures and subtle sense of drama. For a time, Manchester’s Modern Love label also specialized in brushed-metal atmospheres with a distinctly Detroit-oriented vibe (Andy Stott‘s “Hi Rise” and “Nite Jewel,” Claro Intelecto‘s Metanarrative and Warehouse Sessions), as well as resonant dub techno (Echospace and Deepchord‘s The Coldest Season). Detroit-inspired techno has flourished particularly in the Lowlands countries: consider labels like Ghent, Belgium’s Music Man Records (Quince, Petar Dundov, Steve Rachmad, Robert Hood), and Delsin (Conforce, Mike Dehnert, John Beltran, Population One), M>O>S (Legowelt, Gerstaffelen, D’Marc Cantu, Aroy Dee), Clone (Tripeo, A Made Up Sound, Alden Tyrell), and Rush Hour (Kenny Larkin, Anthony “Shake” Shakir, Aaardvarck, KiNK), all from Amsterdam. From Amsterdam, it’s just a hop, skip, and a jump to Berlin. It’s quite possible that no other city has had a greater impact on techno over the past decade, and much of that has to do with the fact that Berghain was founded in 2004, creating a crucial platform for techno to flourish even as it was falling out of favor elsewhere. Just as Berlin’s Tresor club and its related label helped fashion a unique style of techno in the ’90s and ’00s, Berghain and its Ostgut Ton label inspired a dark, dramatic strain that’s tailor-made for the club’s cavernous expanse and concrete surfaces. You can trace the development of the Berghain sound across releases from club residents and frequent guests like Marcel Dettmann, Ben Klock, Norman Nodge, Marcel Fengler, Answer Code Request, Levon Vincent, DVS1, Planetary Assault Systems, Ryan Elliott, Rolando and Anthony Parasole. And the Berghain sound, with its industrial clang and mechanical chug, connects to the way that, around the world, brushed-metal textures and greyscale tones are seducing clubgoers with latent gothic tendencies. The Sandwell District crew – including Regis, Function, and Silent Servant – might be the most obvious example of the trend, but you can hear evidence of techno’s dark-side fascinations all over the scene, in the work of Maetrik (“The Entity”), Nicole Moudaber (“I Know Where You’ve Been”), Recondite (“Caldera”), Factory Floor (“Two Different Ways (Perc Remix)”), and the gloomy Swedes, Skudge (“Convolution,” “Ontic”). That shift to the dark side makes sense. The term “underground” may have lost much of its meaning in the internet era, but techno, compared to the rest of electronic music dance culture, has remained steadfast in its subterranean inclinations. It’s not primarily about daytime raving at outdoor festivals; it’s not about radio play; it’s not about famous DJs. Those things might happen, occasionally, but they’re not techno’s endgame. And as EDM has gone ever more overground, techno has resisted as it best knows how: by going back to its roots. Long may it soldier on. 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Posted: 16 Nov 2014 03:00 PM PST
#BeatportDecade is a series celebrating the past 10 years of dance music, providing insight into the artists, tracks and labels that drove the evolution of its sound and culture, and interviews with the people who made history.
For Adam Beyer, a fascination with electronic music started early. "My first contact was probably as a kid, with Jean Michel Jarre's Oxygène album in my mother's record collection," he says. From that first discovery, his path was set. In 2014, after two decades in the game, Beyer is rightly regarded as one of techno's MVPs. The Swedish DJ, producer and label boss first made his mark in the mid-1990s alongside compatriots like Cari Lekebusch, Jesper Dahlbäck and Christian Smith. While he has released records on imprints including Plus 8, Cocoon and Soma, Beyer's name is synonymous with Drumcode, the influential label he's led since 1996. With a consistent supply of techno heat over the years, Drumcode remains a powerhouse. Right now, the Beatport techno chart is testament to the label's standing in 2014, with four of its releases in the top ten. (One of Beyer’s other labels, Truesoul, is also featured via Nick Curly’s “Crossroads.”) Beyond the enduring success of his imprints, and a relentless tour schedule, the label boss has also carved out a loyal following for his Drumcode Live Radio show. For this installment of the Beatport Decade series, we tracked down Beyer at home in Stockholm to delve into the past, present and future of techno. Here's what he had to say. What's the concept behind the five exclusive tracks that you're giving away in honor of Beatport Decade? What makes them so special? I wanted to create a balance of tracks that were big for the label as well as showcase some of the producers over the years. There are two tracks from me, Alan Fitzpatrick, Joseph Capriati and Nicole Moudaber. I tried to have a nice mix of artists and tracks that stood out and made a difference for Drumcode. As an example, Joseph's track "Solar System" did over a million views on YouTube, which is really big for a techno track. Then "London" was a big one for me. It set the tone for the label in 2009. I sat on it for about 18 months before releasing it. I usually sit on tracks for about a year to make sure I wanted to release it. I felt like it was ready to be released. What's the theme behind your chart selection? Why do these 10 tracks stand out to you? Well, it's quite a big task to pick a track for each year, since I go through so much music. I started out by picking one track for each year in the decade and that made me think about the time and the memories from those periods. So I picked stuff that I still enjoy, would still play and tracks that have made a big impact on me over the years. Early on, what was the one track, artist or club night that turned you on to dance music? My first contact with electronic music was probably as a kid with Jean Michel Jarre's Oxygène album in my mother's record collection. You know, the one with the skull sitting on top of the world. She said that he made music with only machines and, at the time, I was so blown away by that idea that I listened to it over and over again. At my school you were either into hard rock or synth music. But I was into hard rock then, so I was a big Kiss fan at the time. I started DJing in 1987 at age 11. I remember that I was already digesting a lot of music. But I don't recall a specific record that grabbed me. I do remember when the first electronic dance records in the late 1980s started coming out. Those were really influential on me. What's the one piece of production gear you can't live without? The 'desert island' list? To be honest, I don't really have a go-to piece of gear at the moment. I had an old Roland Juno 106 before, but not anymore. I actually sold it recently, since I felt like I'd done everything I was going to do on it. What is your fondest memory over the past 10 years? Of course, I'd have to say having my three beautiful daughters has been the most amazing thing ever. It's completely changed my life. Looking forward, what's your prediction for the emerging trends over the next decade? What do you see out there on the horizon? I think the last couple years have seen the commercialization of dance music and I'm curious to see what will happen over the next ten years. There's potential there, but it needs to push forward again. It's difficult to answer, since we don't know what the future holds. Everything is just going faster and faster with the way that people produce today over the cloud. That's what makes our scene so interesting, because you don't know what's going to happen. It's so unpredictable. What DJs — new and old – make you want to dance? Honestly, I don't go out as much anymore, but I still play out loads. Richie Hawtin, Sven Väth, Marco Carola and Carl Cox all excite me because they still rock it and they're on top of their game. I also enjoy deep house, just for listening. And I actually find myself getting surprised by new DJs who I don't know that play really well when I catch them at after-parties. If you were to nominate a young artist to be on the look out for, who would that be? Right now, I'd say wAFF who's on Hot Creations. I caught a few things he's done in the past on Cocoon and Hot Tracks. We have two tracks from him right now and we're just waiting for one more to release it. I've been playing them loads this summer and we're just looking for one from him in more of a classic Drumcode style. We're also looking forward to an upcoming Maceo Plex release soon as well. What would you like your musical legacy to be? Ultimately, I'd like to be known as someone who pioneered the Swedish techno sound, as well as pushing techno forward through the label. Hopefully, we've helped to transform it into something modern. Ready for more Adam Beyer? Go to #BeatportDecade now and download his exclusive free tracks.  |
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