Showing posts with label Piney Gir. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Piney Gir. Show all posts

Friday, 1 November 2013

Audio Journal: 01/11/2013 - MuteResponse

MuteResponse #1 - artwork by Espen J. Jörgensen
The idea for MuteResponse came to me more or less exactly twelve months ago.

I was sat in the Curzon Cinema in Chelsea on 24 October 2012 listening to a talk as part of David Byrne's How Music Works book tour. Byrne had selected a different musician each night to join the debate, which for London was curated by Sean O'Hagan. His fellow debater on the health of music and the 'music industry' as we might have once called it, was Matthew Herbert.

The talk was a mix of interview and discussion. Both Herbert and Byrne made entertaining speakers, each possessing an authoritative viewpoint on just how dire it is for musicians trying to earn a crust in today's digital era. In spite of each speaker's self-deprecating mannerisms and an honest raking through of their individual paths to becoming musicians, the evening was a sobering one, and if it wasn't for a call to arms at the very end, I would have left thinking that all was doomed.

In the concluding moments, Herbert emphatically stressed that the future success of music depended on allowing the smallest scenes to thrive and develop. It was delivered with such passion and gusto that it was difficult not to feel compelled to do something with that. But, as people began to file out of the cinema, I stayed back a few moments and wondered how to do my small bit to protect the art form I enjoy so much.

In about half an hour I was stood at Sloane Square Underground station mulling over what I could do. I was listening to, and reviewing, the album Mind The Gap by Metroland that day and had sent over my finished piece to Sven from the duo earlier. Metroland's album reminded me principally of the work by Mute Records stalwarts Komputer, and the confluence of making that connection and Herbert's insistent request for participation came together somewhere on the Tube between Sloane Square and South Kensington and the idea for MuteResponse was born.

My thought process was simple: I already am part of a small scene, though not a musician; that scene consists of a bunch of people who are fans of Mute Records, the independent record label established by Daniel Miller in 1978. I already support Mute's legacy through my website Documentary Evidence which I started a decade ago as a place to write reviews and interviews with Mute artists or those connected to the label; Documentary Evidence was never supposed to be anything other than a place to post my personal views and opinions on whatever Mute release I was listening to that day. I had no aspirations to become a fully-fledged music critic, and I didn't really care if anyone was even reading the poorly-scribed stuff I was sticking up online.

By 2013 I seemed to have accumulated a number of fellow Mute fans who were similarly smitten by the label, but something about what Herbert had said made me feel like I needed to do something more, or, more specifically, to provide a different sort of tribute to the legacy of Mute. So I decided, between those two Tube stations to put together a compilation of artists influenced by the label. The title MuteResponse came to me almost as soon as I came up with the idea for the album. Never let it be said that inspiration doesn't lurk in the dark tunnels under London.

Helpfully, what Documentary Evidence covers has meant that lots of like-minded people send me their music for review. It's a nice problem to have. That made the selection of tracks from some recent releases relatively straightforward, but I also wanted to secure some exclusive tracks, or things that I'd had the privilege of listening to that had for whatever reason never seen the light of day. So I set about a process of asking for permission to use tracks from releases I'd been sent, inviting artists to send over a track for consideration, or trying to persuade people who were sitting on unreleased tracks that were unlikely to ever get released to allow them to be used. That so many people wanted to see their tracks included was a pleasant surprise and consequently the album came together far easier than I ever expected to; so much so that it became evident that it would need to be a double compilation. The first track I received was 'Clues In The Rain' by Espen J. Jörgensen and Rupert Lally, and so, appropriately enough, it is the opening track on album one.

Securing an unreleased track from Vic Twenty was, on a personal level, one of the most pleasing events in the development of MuteResponse. Vic Twenty, originally a duo of Adrian Morris and Angela Penhaligon (Piney Gir) were the first group I ever wrote about on Documentary Evidence after the single 'Text Message' was released on Credible Sexy Units, a new label Mute founder Daniel Miller set up after his main concern was bought by EMI. Adrian sent me a CDr of unreleased Vic Twenty tracks while I was undertaking one of two interviews with him, and I always hoped that 'Christmas In Korea (New Year In Japan)' would see the light of day one day. Now it will, and just before Christmas too.

People have asked how I managed to get producer Gareth Jones on board with an exclusive track, 'Summer Solstice 2013'. I first spoke to Gareth (and also Olivia Louvel, and Paul 'PK' Kendall) about the project in the bar after a Simon Fisher Turner and Factory Floor concert at the ICA in March. I've spoken to Gareth a few times over the past ten years but even so, asking him if he was interested in participating was a nerve-racking experience. Nevertheless, he seemed genuinely enthused by being involved. His track was a real surprise - a carefully constructed, many-layered audio collage of London atmospheres - and it is indeed a real coup to be featuring a piece by someone who's name has been attached to many of my favourite records.

It occurred to me early on that one relatively straightforward way of offering a tribute to Mute would be by asking for cover versions of songs by Mute artists. In the end it seemed like the most obvious way to approach it, and therefore the least appealing way to do it; after all, if the whole point of this was to show Mute's influence, it needed to illustrate how Mute's early aesthetic had crept out to infiltrate how people made electronic music; just putting out covers seemed to undermine that somehow. There was just one exception to that rule - an instrumental cover of Depeche Mode's See You' by Dave Fleet. Fleet first sent me a demo of this about two years ago and I was pleased to have been able to encourage him to finish it. We both tried to find a vocalist for the track but finally decided it was beautiful as it was, being a mixture of sensitive orchestrations and whirring electronics. Fleet proved to be one of the most important creative consultants for the project, giving me his opinion on tracks I wasn't sure about, sourcing tracks from Jay Mass / Andy Clark and Simplicity Is Beauty and securing the services of Chris Sharp to master the overall project. In fact, without Dave's support and guidance MuteResponse would have been just another idea that never went anywhere.

Another pivotal figure in the genesis of MuteResponse was Procedure, whose 'Isbjörn' is one of my favourite pieces from the entire project. One day he emailed me asking if I had ever tried contacting Simone Grant, who designed the first sleeves for Mute and whose creative insight informed the distinctive imagery of releases by The Normal, Silicon Teens, Fad Gadget and others. Within 48 hours I'd made contact with Simone and she'd agreed to design alternative sleeves for the project. Other alternative sleeve designs came from Espen J. Jörgensen, p6 from Security, Olivia Louvel and Dylan Fleet.

Let us return to the original reason for doing this in the first place. The idea was to further encourage the development of a small scene, namely artists influenced in whatever bleak way by Mute Records. That was its original stated purpose and I believe it does that effectively, albeit as a very narrow snapshot. However, for me it also highlights more clearly that while the music industry might be broken beyond repair, originality exists in greater abundance than ever before. There are amazing artists out there producing many, many great tracks that deserve far greater exposure than they get, but don't because they're not on a label with a huge marketing budget. It was that realisation that there was music out there that I'd never heard of that made Mute so appealing to me in the first place.

I hope above all that MuteResponse contributes in some small way to raising the profile of the very talented artists who contributed to this project, and whose music deserves far wider appreciation.

MuteResponse is released via Bandcamp on 4 November 2013.
Track lists, artist biographies and the alternative artwork can be found at www.muteresponse.com

- MJAS, Woburn Sands, UK, November 2013

Thursday, 11 November 2010

Audio Journal : 11/11/2010

Underworld 'Barking'

I wrote about Underworld's 2009 mix compilation Athens a few weeks ago. I first got into Underworld in 1994 with Dubnobasswithmyheadman, their third album, an album which saw them becoming courted by the indie music press, presenting as they did an amalgam of trendy dance music with sporadic deployment of treated guitars. It seems that, musically, 1994 was something of a pivotal year for me, looking back, and Dubnobasswithmyheadman was at the forefront of my developing eclectic musical pallette.

Second Toughest In The Infants, the eagerly-anticipated 1996 follow-up and 1999's Beaucoup Fish continued the bleeding-edge appeal of the Karl Hyde / Rick Smith / Darren Emerson unit. Emerson departed soon after Beaucoup Fish and the duo forged ahead without him, releasing 100 Days Off (2002) and Oblivion With Bells (2007), as well as a best-of and a live album, living proof if required that dance music artists also need to follow the well-worn path of miscellaneous albums of non-new material to pad out the sales. In fairness, they also released a load of online-only material too.

Having moved my gaze away from Underworld after Beaucoup Fish, I became quite excited about their new album, Barking. This album, their eighth, was named after the frequent appearance of dogs in their lyrics / imagery ('Dogman Go Woof' being an early, non-album single, plus they named tracks like Second Toughest's 'Sappy's Curry' after greyhounds raced at Essex dog tracks), and also the fact that Barking, Essex is Hyde's adopted home. In getting enthusiastic about the new album from two of my 1994 heroes, I overlooked the sticker on the front which advised that this album included a number of collaborations with other producers – über-cool names that didn't mean anything to me, with the exception of long-standing collaborator Darren Price, who remixed a couple of their singles, and whose releases on NovaMute are still lurking in one of my record boxes, somewhere.

Collaborations at this juncture in a band's career, whatever the genre, can be interpreted as either rejuvenating or an indication that the band have run out of creative steam. I honestly don't know which category Barking falls into. There are some excellent tracks here, the junglist 'Scribble' and 'Between Stars', the collaboration with Price. Opener 'Bird 1' has a minimal pulse and dynamic forward motion and providers a real, if updated, reminder of why Underworld were always so essential.

Some of the other tracks are harder to digest. 'Always Loved A Film' has a 'hands in the air' euphoric chorus, lots of 'Heaven's and 'Can you feel it?'s, and whilst it's joyously upbeat, it doesn't sound like Underworld to me, at least not the Underworld I remember. It sounds like the sort of pop-trance issued by Perfecto in the mid 1990s, the sort of music that Underworld provided the effective antidote to back then, while 'Diamond Jigsaw' sounds like 'Swamp Thing'-era Grid, or the most recent Goldfrapp album, Head First. I love that album, and it's pop-dance credentials are beautiful in their brazen-ness. But Underworld were always more sophisticated than that. And don't even get me started on the final track, 'Louisiana'. Depeche Mode fans will be used to the sections of their concerts where Martin Gore delivers a couple of songs, usually just with a piano accompaniment; it's what we expect from Gore – it's not what we expect from Underworld, tender and fragile though this song might be.

Vinyl Corner

Piney Gir 'For The Love Of Others'

A trawl through the sale racks in Brick Lane's Rough Trade East yielded 'For The Love Of Others' by Piney Gir, released in 2009 on Damaged Goods. Piney – real name Angela Penhaligon – first came onto my radar as part of electropop duo Vic Twenty and I did an interview with her back in the day, just as she was releasing her superb Peekahokahoo solo album. Since those electronic days, Piney's gone off and moved into more countrified territory and I haven't listened to her for a while.

'For The Love Of Others' is delicate Bacharach-tinged country pop. It's sweet, flavoured with Piney's honey-coated tones and beautiful, soulful vocal harmonies, with layers of horn accompaniment. It reminds me of the tracks by Kimya Dawson on the wonderful Juno soundtrack, with just a bit more knowing maturity.

On the flip, Piney tackles the Jungle Book standard 'I Wanna Be Like You', approaching one of Paulo Nutini's best-loved covers with an easy listening / jazz club vibe. There's also the miniscule 'Brady's Bluff', featuring lots of delicate vocal harmonies and gentle acoustic guitars and a neat little chord change right at the very end.