narcissist barty's techno party

S

sadmanbarty

Well-known member

did this spawn a hole type of techno? Or at the least did that plucking sound become a staple? a go to?

Again a bit fourth world, john hassleish. An imagined future music of some imagined noble savage. the purity and innocence of the noble savage; at peace with nature. egalitarian societies. National geographic naked boobs and wide eyes gazing into the camera, untainted by the trials and ills of the world.

Baby like synths. Soft baby skin. Same pastel pink color as them. Same squidgy bums. Talcolm powder and sheets washed with special detergent for sensitive skin.
 
S

sadmanbarty

Well-known member

larking around with your mates. Being a teenager on weed and thinking simple things are hilarious. Laughing your ass off and your ribs are aching. So simple mindedly stupid.

It’s like egg dog or something.
 
luka

luka

Well-known member
sadmanbarty said:

there was preoccupation with precision in 80’s drumming (of course coming out of drum machines and sequencers and all that). it’s really coming across in the drums on this. Camp flared nostrils. alan rickman in die hard. Annie lenox’s hair and outfit in ‘sweet dreams’. Those claps in ‘money that’s what I want’. Precise drumming as some strange proxy form of opulence. A very 80’s sense of “drive”. Determination.

Reminds me of this:

Click to expand...

It sounds very very sad to me
 
S

sadmanbarty

Well-known member

a rainforest. Those cricket churping sounds. the hi hats like rainfall pattering on leaves. The organ like a stream reflecting moonlight.

I was going to go into some big schpiel about how techno fails in that it uses exposition rather than showing. It announces its aesthetics rather than just being them. It’s going “oi we’re all robots and the future and stuff” as a way to compensate for failing to be those things. It’s blatant signifier music. BUT… this track grew on me.

It’s a bit silly I suppose. It’s the African lady who comes into your primary school to teach you about story telling. Some bird who lives in catford and fancies herself a griot.
 
luka

luka

Well-known member
sadmanbarty said:

the drums are like an overexcited basset hound running through loads of mud and fucking loving it. It’s dumb bubblegum pink, oversized tongue flailing through the air, big floppy ears. Covered in rain and mud and living life to its idiotic fullest

that chromatic thing in the chords is all witchy. Walking into a tent and a gypsy woman with big jangle bracelets and earrings is awaiting you in the austere, mystifying glow of a crystal ball.

Proper hardcore synth stabs in this one. Something an mc would say something great over; “get wild!” and then you’d proceed to get wild.
Click to expand...

There's a warmth to this and records like it that is incredibly generous and compassionate
 
S

sadmanbarty

Well-known member

the voice is like the one in rip groove, but if it was suffocating in a plastic bag. When you breath in and the back goes into your mouth.

In the context, the silly, comedy synth sounds become sinister. Like a funny little club night while some poor bird’s getting murdered in the toilet.

Its strange how small scale it all is. Lego sized music, whereas to me lots of music sounds like mount olympous, or the ocean or the heavens. That autistic sense of sinking into minute detail; the division of labour in the Detroit car industry.

A wicked bass comes in the last third. A suffocating dread bass. Slightly eski-ish.
 
S

sadmanbarty

Well-known member

you know those really potent, tragic gary glitter guitar lines? The synth pad’s a Vangelis version of that. a bit more sentimental of course. Like a child too innocent to cope with a tragedy that’s beset them. A kid finding out dad’s died and responding to it by playing with his toy soldiers. Almost not really immediately realizing that this is a big issue, let a lone a life-defining moment.

The rest sounds like hardcore that’s not been allowed out the box. Like bees claustrophobically swarming in a jar.
 
luka

luka

Well-known member
I agree it's human scaled music. It's not bombastic. It's very often lonely, alienated, sad. There's a romanticism to the Detroit stuff, a melancholy. Very much city music. Late night music.
 
S

sadmanbarty

Well-known member

I know this one obviously. Not music, but rather a miracle.

Hands in the air euphoria.

All those stabs are genius. The piano is gospel, the stabs are speaking in tongues. The radiance emitting of ezekial’s visions. The clattering wheels of the chariot as it swings low.

Cognitive orgasm. Cognitive obliteration.

A masterful marriage of something very warm and human and something very raw and psychedelic.

Music that changes the world.
 
S

sadmanbarty

Well-known member

“It’s a dance of tics and twitches, jerks and spasms, the agitation of a body broken down into individual components, then re-integrated at the level of the entire dancefloor. Each sub-individual part (a limb, a hand cocked like a pistol) is a cog in a collective desiring machine. Which is why dancers so readily pick up moves from each other. The dancefloor’s like a primal DNA soup.”

Courtesy of big knob blissblog
 
luka

luka

Well-known member
luka said:
I agree it's human scaled music. It's not bombastic. It's very often lonely, alienated, sad. There's a romanticism to the Detroit stuff, a melancholy. Very much city music. Late night music.
Click to expand...

this is one of the themes of energy flash which characterises this romanticism as a kind of cultural conservatism, a bourgeois aesthetic, which it is. But it's also very lovely.
 
S

sadmanbarty

Well-known member

paper thin. the color of wood through tracing paper.

An arts and crafts song (a la Arthur brick). Prit stick glue on your fingers, with a bit of stray paper accidently stuck on. Rulers. The smell of varnish. All the while day dreaming of a waterfall cascading in slow mo away from lush green trees, all of which glistening in the sunlight.
 
luka

luka

Well-known member
Good drugs make you forget those puny human emotions entirely. In fact it makes them seem ridiculous. You've just injected ecstasy into your eyeballs, you've transcended, you're more than human.
 
Corpsey

Corpsey

bandz ahoy
Makes me wonder about romanticism and 90s rap - the sampling of jazz, harking back to another era, even when rapping about the cold realities of street life. Something wistful and belated about it. Swept away by synths later. Something otherworldly in that sample heavy new York rap, whether it's spooky or yearning or nostalgic.
 
luka

luka

Well-known member
Corpsey said:
Makes me wonder about romanticism and 90s rap - the sampling of jazz, harking back to another era, even when rapping about the cold realities of street life. Something wistful and belated about it. Swept away by synths later. Something otherworldly in that sample heavy new York rap, whether it's spooky or yearning or nostalgic.
Click to expand...

Definitely.
 
S

sadmanbarty

Well-known member

I think i heard this on a woebot mix and made a note of it at the time.

Nice to have something going on with the drums.

A mournful innocence to this. An unattainable innocence. Not a grounded one though, it’s that baby floating in space in 2001.

Stunning. There comes a point when the only way to respond to beauty is to be broken by it. For you to be humbled by it and to regret that you can never be it. it makes me want to weep.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Top