Friday, 27 September 2013

Audio Journal: 27/09/2013 - Eighties Film Soundtracks

The Secret Of My Success - poster
The Secret Of My Success poster
This week saw me celebrating my birthday, and on the evening of said day I decided to watch the 1987 movie The Secret Of My Success.

There were essentially three reasons for choosing that film. The first was that it starred Michael J. Fox. The second was that it was set in New York, and I probably spent as much time as I did on the film's flimsy premise as I did trying to identify the skyscrapers in the vicinity of the Pemrose Corporation's Midtown offices. The third reason for choosing this above any other DVD from the box was simply because it's an Eighties film, and for some reason, probably because I grew up in the Eighties, I'll naturally gravitate to films from that era if I'm feeling aware of the passage of time; it could easily have been Back To The Future, The Breakfast Club or Ghostbusters. They're all in the box, but for that evening it was The Secret Of My Success that won the day.

Everything about The Secret Of My Success screams Eighties, and by that I don't just mean the suits and haircuts. There's a plot line involving a huge dose of corporate greed and unbridled ambition (think Wall Street without the insider trading and with madcap antics), an obligatory and arguably unnecessary romantic interest, the bad guy and the improbable triumph of Fox over said bad guy in the hastily concluded, feel-good final moments. The other Eighties quality was the soundtrack, lead by Night Ranger's gutsy, upbeat and overblown title track (I actually really like it for precisely those reasons; sadly it's not available from iTunes). Here's the video.



It occurred to me that Eighties soundtracks do generally have a distinctive quality that time-stamps them every bit as well as the fashions and story lines - the other options all have big, memorable songs on their soundtracks, for example. By coincidence, earlier this week I completed an interview with Rupert Lally who, in addition to his solo releases or work in collaboration with Espen J. Jörgensen and others, enjoys a parallel career as a composer for film, TV and a Swiss dance company. So, as an unplanned extension of that interview I decided to ask him about what made Eighties soundtracks so distinctive.

'Eighties film soundtracks were revolutionary for two main reasons,' Lally advises. 'The first was their use of songs, and the second was their use of synthesizers.'

'There were examples of movies using songs before the Eighties of course. That started with the Elvis and Beatles movies, but these were closer to the tradition of film musicals. The idea of constructing a soundtrack for a non-musical movie using primarily songs began in the Seventies with soundtracks such as The Graduate and Midnight Cowboy. Both of these are templates for the sort of soundtrack that would rise to prominence in the Eighties because they are a mixture of score and songs with, in the case of Midnight Cowboy, the composer John Barry co-writing some of the songs. This is a very important ingredient to the success of those Eighties song scores, in that most of the time people like Giorgio Moroder, Harold Faltermeyer or Keith Forsey (who scored The Breakfast Club) would not only write the score but also write or co-write the songs.' Indeed, Forsey was one of the two songwriters for 'Don't You Forget About Me' by Simple Minds, the unforgettable title track for The Breakfast Club, while David Foster, who provided the soundtrack to The Secret Of My Success, co-wrote the Night Ranger track above.

'In retrospect this was the beginning of a very slippery slope with studios using soundtracks to help sell a movie,' rues Lally. 'Eventually, the harmonious relationship between songs and score began to disappear as the time frames to produce a score became shorter, and at the same time the score composers' participation with the songs became nonexistent.' That breakdown would lead to the type of soundtracks offered today which are more like pastiches of Now! compilation albums with a few exclusives thrown in if the studio can be bothered.

Turning to the use of new technology, Lally is more enthusiastic. 'Synths had been used to score films well before the Eighties too, with scores to films like The Forbidden Planet being one of the earliest examples. But the idea of a totally electronic score being accepted as standard practice for a mainstream film didn't develop until the Eighties for two main reasons. First, synthesizers became cheaper and therefore available to the average musician. Second, the invention of home video resulted in such a massive demand for product that low-budget or independent companies, who didn't have the budget for an orchestral score, would happily hire a guy or gal with a few synths to create the soundtrack. This studios were able to thrive in a way that they hadn't since the drive-in movie theatres started to go out of business.'

So if you ever wondered what makes Eighties soundtracks so memorable, that's why.

Rupert Lally on Eighties film soundtracks

At the end of my interview with Lally he described his favourite electronic music records. Here he does the same for Eighties movie soundtracks.

Vangelis Blade Runner

This is such a beautiful score on so many levels. The choice of sounds is very orchestral - Vangelis uses very few timbres here. Then there are those wonderful brass and pad sounds from the Yamaha CS80, a Fender Rhodes electric piano, a heavily processed grand piano, sampled timpani and percussion from an Emulator and a live gong; occasionally he'll add a saxophone or Mary Hopkin's very pure sounding voice, but otherwise that's it. It creates a feeling of an ensemble. Supposedly he performed the score live to tape watching the film on screen whilst he played, creating much of it on the spur of the moment; which to me only enhances it's greatness.

Maurice Jarre Witness

This is another benchmark synthetic score for me. Jarre apparently used four session synthesizer players in a little quartet and recorded them playing all together for the this score, which is probably why, despite being wholly synthetic, it has the feeling of chamber music at times.

Giorgio Moroder Cat People

A great, pulsing score from Moroder, which, according to Paul Schrader (the director), was achieved by Moroder recording layer after layer of synths onto multi-track tape and then fading the different layers in and out during the mixing process. There's a great use of the (co-written) song 'Putting Out Fire' by David Bowie too.

Harold Faltermeyer Beverly Hills Cop

This choice will probably get a few groans, but forget the familiarity of the main theme [the ubiquitous 'Axel F']and watch the movie again paying special attention to the score. The mood that Faltermeyer (who also wrote some of the songs) manages to create from such minimal ingredients is very impressive. The theme is used again and again in the film in many different ways, and in that sense the score takes a very traditional approach to film scoring using untraditional means.

Brad Fiedel Terminator

People always forget that the first Terminator film was an extremely low-budget movie. Using little more than an Emulator sampling keyboard, a Prophet 10 synthesizer and a DMX drum machine, Fiedel created this (still) iconic score that suggests the relentlessness of the Terminator using repetitive rhythms and sampled clanging metal.

Wendy Carlos Tron

Carlos is a classically trained composer, and her scores reflect this - her score for Tron almost borders on opera at times, which for me is a love / hate thing. There is no doubting this scores' incredible power however.

Arthur B. Rubinstein Wargames

At first listen, it's difficult to believe this score is really the work of one person, but it is. From the militaristic Brass music of the opening credits, to the synth pop songs underscoring the youthful Matthew Broderick playing in the video arcade, to the beautiful solo piano theme for Professor Falken, Rubinstein wrote them all.


Ennio Morricone The Thing

I had to have at least one John Carpenter score in here and even though Carpenter didn't write this one himself, his influence is clearly apparent. The feeling of impending doom is apparent from the first bar of the opening theme.

James Horner Gorky Park

Horner has become a little bit of an in-joke in the scoring industry for his ability to keep using the same melodies and motifs in many of his scores. However, at the beginning of his career he was the king of creating scores for independent movies that belied their low budget roots. His use of a cymbalom alongside synths and a brass ensemble is both startling and incredibly dramatic.

Hans Zimmer Black Rain

Like Horner, Zimmer's familiarity has led to people dismissing his work at times, which is wrong because his early scores like this which blends pulsing synths, orchestra and traditional Japanese instruments, were revolutionary. He still has the ability to surprise even today - take his score for The Dark Knight for instance - plus he began his road to Hollywood mega score-dom as a synth programmer working in a little studio in my home town of Brighton, and for that, if nothing else, he has my undying respect.

Sunday, 22 September 2013

Audio Journal: 22/09/2013 - Gary Numan, John Lennon McCullagh, FTSE, Metamono

FTSE (Sam Manville)
Last week I was asked if I wanted to contribute to this month's New Wave section for next month's Clash magazine. This basically involves writing a 350-word piece on some hot new up and coming band or artist. I wrote one a couple of months ago on the band Benin City so I thought I'd throw my hat in.

However, writing about new bands is, at least for me, a challenge. As this blog will attest, I spend most of my time listening to stuff that's, if not old, then something I'm passionate about in some way or know something about. For Clash this month I wrote a piece on the new Gary Numan album, which is a good case in point. I may not have followed Numan's career that closely, but 'Cars' is definitely a major influence on being in love with electronic music - as a five-year-old kid I distinctly recall watching him perform that on the Old Grey Whistle Test with my father, either when I was on my way to bed or because I couldn't sleep and had come back into the lounge. Irrespective, something about that song crept into my consciousness and the seed for my love of electronic music was planted. So with that prior impact in mind, I was really pleased to be writing about Splinters, his new, good, and very bleak album. I was less confident writing about ex-Creation Records svengali Alan McGee's new signing, the fifteen year old troubador (and audaciously-named) John Lennon McCullagh; however, McCullagh's debut album is massively inspired by Bob Dylan, right down to the protest themes, folksy guitars and harmonicas, and I know enough about Dylan to have nailed that review without breaking too much of a sweat.

But the New Wave piece did inspire a certain element of panic. After agreeing to do it, the editor sent through a list of bands and asked which I'd like to cover. I looked down the list and didn't recognise any of them. I had no press release to refer to, no music to listen to, and while I could have done a cursory Google search to find a YouTube clip or streamed track, I simply didn't have the time to do that. The deadline was keen and so I glanced at the list and picked the one name that grabbed me - FTSE. The reason I chose that, for those who really know me, was probably self-evident: I may act like what I do every day is listen to and write about music, but the reality is I work for a big bank in the City of London, and that's what pays the bills. So I saw the name FTSE, laughed inwardly at the cross-reference between my day job and this article and then found myself interviewing FTSE's Sam Manville for the piece.

FTSE make music that leans heavily into soul, R&B, hip-hop and drum 'n' bass - none of which are typical concerns of mine - but those influences are linked together by electronics that eschew the sheen and polish of most mainstream pop through Manville's interest in sounds that just aren't perfect, perhaps are a bit hissy or wonky, creating dark interstitial moments that disrupt his otherwise commercial sound. Though he was tight-lipped on his influences, one that crept out was David Byrne - you can imagine that any doubt I had about writing about some young gun dissipated at that point - who he singled out precisely because Byrne doesn't possess what anyone could describe as a 'perfect' voice. Manville is about to release his second EP and he's clearly going places. Here's 'St Tropez' from that EP. (Click here for those on email.)


Returning to electronic music, this week I've been listening to music created using analogue synths, those great beasts that were less instruments and more science kits, involving lots of knobs, filters, patch cables and a lab coat to make sounds from scratch. A lot of my listening has been taken up with the debut album from Metamono, which this trio will release in October. You can read a bit more here and you can listen to the track 'Linger Langour' from With The Compliments Of Nuclear Physics on that link.

Saturday, 31 August 2013

Audio Journal: 30/08/2013 - David Byrne & St. Vincent, MuteResponse

David Byrne & St. Vincent, The Roundhouse 27/08/2013
Source and copyright: Rachel Lipsitz for Clash
One recurring artist throughout the history of my Audio Journal blog has been former Talking Heads frontman David Byrne, who I even went so far as to say I had something of an 'artistic crush' on, a comment that I'm still reluctant to retract.

Byrne was in London earlier this week for a one-off show at the Roundhouse with St. Vincent (Annie Clark), with whom he recorded the brass-soaked Love This Giant released by 4AD last year. Despite a couple of previous attempts on my part to catch Byrne in concert, for one reason or another it's never happened. The closest I've come to seeing him in the flesh was last year at the Curzon cinema in Chelsea where he and Matthew Herbert engaged in an earnest debate about the health of what we used to call the music industry; prior to that it was a live video-link chat with Paul Morley from Brixton to accompany a screening of his Ride, Rise, Roar tour documentary, which I watched in a tiny room at Leicester Square's Odeon. Finally getting to see him singing this week was therefore something that I was starting to believe was never going to happen.

I was fortunate enough to review the Roundhouse show for Clash. My review, accompanied by some rather excellent photos from Rachel Lipsitz, can be found here. Byrne and Clark have released a free EP to accompany their tour, featuring some live tracks (including the Talking Heads classic 'Road To Nowhere'), remixes and an unreleased song from the Love This Giant sessions. The Brass Tactics EP can be downloaded below in exchange for your email address.



A few posts back I mentioned that listening to Byrne's conversation with Matthew Herbert had inspired me to start a project called MuteResponse in tribute to the influence of my favourite record label (Mute) and to celebrate ten years of writing my Documentary Evidence website.


MuteResponse will take the form of a twenty-two track double download compilation and will be released in the Autumn. Earlier this week I premiered the first track from the album, which will feature a number of artists similarly inspired by Mute's legacy. 'Clues In The Rain' by Rupert Lally and Espen J. Jörgensen - the first track that I received for inclusion on the project after a campaign for contributions - can be heard below, or head here if you're reading this on email. The full tracklist for MuteResponse will be announced soon.

Friday, 23 August 2013

Audio Journal: 23/08/2013 - The Islanders, Flöör, Karnezis / Lally / Jörgensen, Autechre

Aside from writing about a couple of upcoming new releases on the consistently interesting Touch label (Diluvial by Bruce Gilbert & BAW, Monstrance by Mika Vainio & Joachim Nordwall), trying desperately to like the new 12" from Mark Fell, the music highlight of the week was watching a performance of The Islanders at Underbelly, part of a month-long run for the Edinburgh Fringe.

Billed as a lo-fi musical, The Islanders is performed by Amy Mason, enigmatic Art Brut frontman Eddie Argos and folk musician Jim Moray. Mason talks, detailing intensely personal recollections from when she and Argos were a couple in the Nineties; in between her monologues Argos does the talking to music thing that have made Art Brut a relatively unique proposition over the past decade; Argos's recollections of the same relationship are frequently vastly different from his ex-girlfriend's, which would be far more amusing if it wasn't highlighting how disjointed they were as a couple. The climax and trigger for what would become the start of the end of their relationship was an ill-fated trip to the Isle of Wight which informs the title of this artsy show. A more complete overview of The Islanders that I've written can be found here.

The Islanders poster
The Islanders poster. Source: MJASmith

A couple of weeks ago my Swiss-based musician friend Rupert Lally tipped me off about his new project Flöör with singer and guitarist Camilla Matthias. The duo's debut single 'Waiting For The Summer To Fall' was released today and can be streamed below. You can read my thoughts on the single (and, somewhat improbably I admit, Disney's Teen Beach Movie, which has rarely been off our DVD player this summer) over on Documentary Evidence.



Over the last year or so, Lally has been locked into a productive musical union with Norwegian documentary film-maker and collector / creator of sounds Espen J. Jörgensen. The duo have released a whole stack of albums, concluding their partnership with This Is Art which will be released later this year. Preceding that, the duo will release 'Greece @ Peace', a short single with Greek bouzouki master Lakis Karnezis. As with all of Lally's collaborations, 'Greece @ Peace' was a distance project, Lally taking environmental sounds that Jörgensen had recorded (in this case from a trip to a Greek island in 2009), moulding those into atmospheres before adding synths and Karnezis's bouzouki. For a ninety second track, the results are profoundly stirring and haunting. My Documentary Evidence site snagged an exclusive of the video that Jörgensen created for the song, which I've included again below. For those on email, you'll have to head here.



This week my vinyl collection was gently pruned with the sales of two vintage 12" singles from Rob Brown and Sean Booth, better known as Warp electronica stalwarts Autechre. I bought 'Garbage' and 'Anvil Vapre' back when they were released in 1995, during a period where I was buying any experimental electronica records I could lay my hands on. Autechre, like their label mate Aphex Twin, have produced some of the most consistently odd and arresting pieces of electronica for nigh on 25 years, taking modish elements (with these two it was drum and bass predominantly) and deconstructing the rhythms and sounds to make something that feels like a freakish relative of whatever they were listening to at the time. It's a formula that's never failed yet.

Sunday, 18 August 2013

Audio Journal: 18/08/2013

There are many reasons to look forward to Fridays, but in the past six months I've found another reason: Jonny Trunk's 50p Friday emails.

Jonny runs the archival Trunk label, which remasters and reissues albums that their original labels don't feel there's a demand for any longer. Often issued as beautiful vinyl repressings, Trunk has become the place to go for unusual obscurities, forgotten soundtracks and much more. Back in February, Trunk reissued a single by The BBC Radiophonic Workshop as a download for a mere 20p and since then Jonny has been hand-picking an album from the label's back catalogue and offering it up as a download for a mere 50p. Over the past six months he's offered Louis and Bebe Barron's early electronic soundtrack to Forbidden Planet, albums from Peter Cooke, the Herbie Mann record I wrote about recently, cool bossa nova from Charlie Rouse, wonky jazz from Raymond Scott and primitive computer music - it's mindbendingly diverse stuff.

Sadly Jonny's taken a holiday this week and so there was nothing on offer on Friday, but if you want a means of comprehensively expanding your knowledge of music in these austere times, Trunk is the place to head. Navigate to the 50p Friday menu link on Trunk's website to fill your ears with great tunes you'd never think to listen to for less than the price of packet of crisps.

The past week I was tipped off about an album of covers of predominantly Eighties pop tracks by an Australian unit called Parralox. Recovery tackles classics from Erasure, Madonna, Pet Shop Boys, The Cure, Front 242, Depeche Mode and many others. My full review can be found over on Documentary Evidence here, but suffice to say it's probably the best electronic pop album I've heard for a long time.

Dave Fleet, who works under the alias Laica and who I wrote about ages ago (click here for that post) has a number of new projects in the can. Not content with lining up the Environs project for Alrealon, he's contributed to my upcoming MuteResponse project, is realising tracks inspired by my short story The Engineer and today let me know about another project, this time an EP for the Phatic Musk label. A short teaser for his latest dystopian soundtrack hit YouTube today – check it out below or hit here if you're reading on email.



Finally, I was recently sent a new track from Iggy & The German Kids which is presently doing great things on German radio. The mastermind behind this great, towering pop electronic moment is Ignacio, who I also wrote about way back in the early days of this blog. The Lynchian suburban nightmare video for 'So Hard' can be reached below, or for those reading this on email, click here to watch over at YouTube.

Monday, 12 August 2013

Audio Journal: 12/08/2013 - Sounding The Body Electric

Sounding The Body Electric (Calvert 22, 2013)
Sounding The Body Electric (Calvert 22, 2013)
Source: MJASmith
On Friday my friend Dan and I visited Sounding The Body Electric: Experiments In Art And Music In Eastern Europe 1957 - 1984 at Calvert 22 Foundation in Shoreditch. The exhibition focusses on the development of electronic music, often for experimental film and adventurous radio programming, in Eastern Europe.

The exhibition consists of audio excerpts, video footage and examples of mind-boggling graphic scores that looked more like waveform descriptions in some cases and less formalised Damien Hirst coloured dots in others.

The photo above is of a series of vinyl records turned into an artwork covering a large area of wall, each LP subjected to a specific treatment, process or design.


Sounding The Body Electric: Experiments In Art And Music In Eastern Europe 1957 - 1984 runs until 25 August 2013. More information can be found here.

An accompanying 2xCD collection of excerpts from audio works included in the exhibition was released by the Bólt label.

Wednesday, 7 August 2013

Audio Journal: 07/08/2013

Three things occupied my adventures in music last week.

The first was watching two documentaries broadcast on Sky Arts in the last year - one about Robert Moog's development of his genre-defining synthesizer, and another about the BBC Radiophonic Workshop. Both highlighted a visionary spirit that feels like it's been lost with the successive democratisations of electronic sound over the past thirty years, first with the development of digital synths and then with software synthesis. Moog synths required the user to literally engineer a sound using an array of knobs, filters and the like, whereas the Radiophonic Workshop's methods pre-dated synths completely, pitch-shifting basic oscillators by painstakingly recording to tape, cutting said tapes into loops and layering the results into dizzyingly creative soundworks. The most famous Radiophonic Workshop composition was the original theme to Doctor Who, but few who listen back to that today would appreciate just how complex it was to create.

Moog DVD (2004)
Moog DVD (2004)

One of the most interesting things I took away from Moog was Bob decrying the moves toward bedroom electronica that means anyone with a basic laptop and free software can create passable music. His synths, he explained, were designed to be played live. If the number of settings on a Mini-Moog look hard to control in a live setting, watching footage of Keith Emerson conjuring complex clusters of frantic melodies out of a vast modular system - literally the synthesizer equivalent of a telephone exchange with cables connected, spaghetti like between hundreds of inputs and outputs - justified Bob's claim. I may not yet have embraced prog, but Emerson's frightening mastery of this unwieldy beast did at least make me appreciate that we have indeed lost something in laptop electronica's global takeover. As I write, I've just filed a review of Berlin-based electronic artist James Welch's debut album under the moniker Seams, one of my two assignments for Clash this month. The accompanying press release has us believe that Welch has created the album with a nod to his live sets, but I'm not sure Bob Moog would have necessary appreciated the dry sound Welch has delivered on Quarters.

The second concern last week was jazz. With the house to myself for most of the week while my wife and kids were away, I found myself consuming jazz voraciously, starting with flutist Herbie Mann's 1962 performance at the Village Gate in Greenwich Village, New York and concluding with Stan Getz's set at the nearby Café Au Go-Go some two years later. Sadly, like most of NYC's most historic music venues from yesteryear, neither venue is there today, even if the Village remains more or less untouched by real estate development. In between Mann's deep introspective take on George and Ira Gershwin's 'It Ain't Necessarily So' and Getz's bossa nova set with Astrud Gilberto ('Girl From Ipanema', their most famous collaboration, was not part of the set), I watched Bruce Weber's documentary on West Coast trumpeter Chet Baker, Let's Get Lost. The film was made in 1988, just before Baker fell out of a window in Amsterdam, trumpet still in hand, silencing a fifty-odd year career in music. The contrast between Baker the slick young gun and the weathered junkie shown in his twilight moments was frightening, but appearances can clearly be deceptive - on the footage of Baker singing and playing trumpet on what would prove to be his final trip around the globe, he still very much had his chops intact, still capable of delivering standards with a casual vibrancy that characterised his career.

Herbie Mann 'At The Village Gate' (1962)
Herbie Mann At The Village Gate (1962)


The final musical concern last week was a lengthy piece I wrote on the overlooked post-punk unit Rema-Rema, notable for including future Adam & The Ants guitarist Marco Pirroni in their ranks and also for setting a quality standard for Ivo Watts-Russell, who released the bands's solitary 12" Wheel In The Roses on his 4AD label, one of the most important British independent labels. My archive piece benefited from the insight and recollections of the band's vocalist Gary Asquith, who I've been interviewing about his various musical projects since last year. Asquith gave me a heap of images, flyers and posters from 1978 / 79 when Rema-Rema were active, making this one of the articles I've enjoyed writing the most over the past ten years. The piece can be found here.

Rema-Rema 'Wheel In The Roses' flyer
Rema-Rema Wheel In The Roses flyer