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Column: The Month in Techno
Hook, Line, and Sinker: The Year in Techno, Pt. 1
Story by Philip Sherburne
On a panel addressing "the future of music" at last month's Amsterdam Dance Event, Ableton programmer Robert Henke-- aka techno micronaut Monolake-- suggested that electronic music's technological evolution had plateaued. With new tools-- software, hardware, and hybrid alike-- arriving on an accelerating basis, his assertion might appear counterintuitive. Whatever his case, though (and as one of the inventors of Ableton's popular Live software, recently released in version 5.0, he's not exactly a disinterested party), his claim doesn't spell the stagnation of dance music, but exactly the opposite. "Today," said Henke, "electronic musicians have all the tools we need." With all the futzing done-- shaking 303s upside down, eking sickly glitches out of otherwise healthy gear, and other creatively error-prone strategies-- we can begin to master them the way traditional instrumentalists did once their respective platforms had evolved, as with the harpsichord into the pianoforte.
I suspect that the consequences of Henke's prediction stand to have the greatest impact not in the world of "electronic music," but rather in rock and pop, as the maturation of electronic tools drives their acceptance in all but the most stolidly regressive circles. (This has, of course, been happening since the Beatles, if not before.) But speaking specifically of house and techno, 2005 bore out Henke's theory pretty well. No shocking new sound arrived, and despite the still-strong currency of retro's cultural capital-- '80s post-punk, vintage acid, and even '90s bedroom electronica all continued to worm their way into otherwise contemporary forms-- house and techno's collective templates continued pace along a fairly steady curve, folding new technologies and gimmicks into well-worn forms. Modernism's reminder to "make it new" never overstepped dance-music's need to make things fit together. What felt new in 2005, or at least renewed, was a broad sense of focus as DJs, producers, labels, and fans spun a cat's cradle of interconnections between sounds and ideas usually exclusive to individual genres like minimalism, progressive, trance, glitch, pop, acid, etc.
Perhaps dance music is simply getting over its subcultural "lifestyle" phase and turning its attentions to craft, on the one hand, and inclusivity, on the other. Certainly most of the current developments in techno are more musical than social: I'd love to believe that rave is striking back, but in truth, the party and club scene seems more rote, routine, and institutionalized than ever. Individual tracks and albums, though, not to mention micro-trends and a collective sense of direction, more than made up for social stagnation.
Earlier this year I detailed the anthemic qualities of the year's big tunes, the hook-laden qualities of tracks like Booka Shade vs. M.A.N.D.Y.'s "Mandarine Girl", Roman Flügel's "Geht's Noch?", and Vitalic's many hits, and the barbs have hardly worn down: just check Williams' stab-happy "Piccadilly Circus" (Get Physical) for a taste of the kind of ravy bombast that will continue to fuel festivals and dance floors next summer. But another undercurrent runs in a different direction, and despite the fact that techno's staccato energies remain as clipped as ever, I predict that in 2006 we'll be doing a lot less connect-the-dots, and a lot more reeling in of long, tangled lines. In contrast to the riff-oriented obsessions of the year's big club tunes-- and perhaps in explicit rejection of it-- another strain of minimal techno is experimenting with an unprecedented sense of flow, following subtle, winding paths like a lost hunter tracks soggy breadcrumbs. Ricardo Villalobos' forthcoming Achso doublepack on Cadenza (full disclosure: I wrote the info sheet) offers the most explicit example, extending the linear motifs of his recent albums into long, meandering meditations informed by folk and free jazz. But recent and forthcoming releases from Mobilee (quickly becoming one of my buy-on-sight labels), Perlon (Dandy Jack's album and Stefan Goldmann's new single), and Kompakt (Matias Aguayo's Are You Really Lost?), to pick just a few examples, all confirm techno's newfound fluidity. Electro-house's ice cubes are melting; in 2006, we'll all be getting liquid.
What follows is an annotated list of 2005's best techno artist albums; singles, mixes, labels, and ephemera-- the lifeblood of techno-- will come in a future column.
Matias Aguayo, Are You Really Lost? (Kompakt)
The former Closer Musik member's solo debut (co-produced by the Meteorites' Markus Rossknecht, with whom Aguayo also performs as the duo Broke) failed to impress many Kompakt die-hards, but I don't think there's an album I listened to more times this year. From the micro (the squelches in "Radiotaxi", Aguayo's ecstatic whoops in "Drums & Feathers") to the macro (the plodding funk and dusky mood that tie the album all together), it thrills on every level, and makes for one of the most personable techno records of the year.
Isolée, We Are Monster (Playhouse)
Five years after his restless Rest, Rajko Müller returns with a bizarre, shapeshifting construction with more twists, turns and false corridors than the Winchester Mystery House. One of 2005's most melodic albums in any genre, it explodes like an overripe blackberry, awash in color and gloopy texture.
Dandy Jack and the Junction SM, Los Siete Castigos (Perlon)
Perlon's least minimal record ever? From the Mouse on Mars-like chirps and Caribbean funk of the opening "Chuleta for You" to the lush Detroit homage of "Casper House", Dandy Jack stuffs every bar with freaky little sounds that stand up and demand to be counted. And for the groovers, "Guerra de las Estrellas", "Samba Lübeck", and "Arabs in the Desert"-- the latter complete with a Depeche Mode melody line-- read like the rings of a tree, with warps and ripples marking droughts, forest fires, and memorable after-parties.
Ellen Allien, Thrills (Bpitch Control)
Hollow and metallic, Allien's third album breathes like an iron lung whispering sweet nothings (and bitter somethings). "Ghost Train" is the best Radiohead song that band never wrote, and "The Brain Is Lost", "Your Body Is My Body", and "Come" all set new standards for melodic, melancholic (and occasionally absolutely agonized) techno.
Cristian Vogel, Station 55 (Novamute)
Too dark for most Boards of Canada fans, and not clubby enough for many of his longtime listeners, Vogel's 10th album went largely unnoticed, but its unglued funk, wee-hour soundsculpting and timbral tumblers deserve better-- expect to hear people calling this a forgotten classic sometime around 2015.
DJ Koze, Kosi Comes Around (Kompakt)
Why can't more techno albums be like this? Precocious, promiscuous, and unafraid to prove that its maker listens to more than just techno, this is a home-listening masterpiece, a future mixtape staple-- "My Grandmotha", like the state of Virginia, is for lovers, no matter if its name suggests otherwise-- and contains the year's most accomplished rave throwback, "Don't Feed the Cat".
Alex Smoke, Incommunicado (Soma)
So this is what happens when Violator-era Depeche Mode is reverse-engineered for dance floors weaned on microhouse. A little bit electro, a little bit minimal, and bursting with melody, Incommunicado sounds like Smoke took a box of Crayolas to outlines sketched out by Matthew Dear and Sascha Funke. And call me rockist, but I love the fact that almost every track is a proper song in its own right.
Marc Leclair, Music Pour 3 Femmes Enceintes (MUTEK)
Akufen's ambient foray snuck up on me; at first it felt slight, a series of pleasant textures, but like some kind of shimmery, self-folding origami paper, it assumes mysterious shapes while you're not paying attention, and it's serenaded more of my bedtimes than any other disc this year.
Thomas Brinkmann, Lucky Hands (max.Ernst)
It's the old dilemma: a new CD from an old favorite arrives the week you put together your best-of-year list. You're infatuated and happy to rekindle an old flame. But is it an affair to stand the test of time, or just a monthlong dalliance? It's too early to say, but for now, Brinkmann's latest project-- for the first time, fusing his various strategies (clicks and cuts, dissected soul samples, and drum machines) into a coherent and immersive whole, by turns dark, goofy and placid.
Philip Sherburne's writing and photographs can be found at www.philipsherburne.com.
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Post subject: Interesting words on the state/evolution of techno.. discuss
