FFN 003 :: Summer (Revisited)

1.1 The clean, high-pitched voice came from out of nowhere.

„You won’t find any other festival boasting as many state-of-the-art DJs“. A young, posh guy of about 22 years of age was shoving a flyer right into Roger’s face. It was one of those colorful leaflets which, in poster version, could be seen all over town. The name of the festival was written in bold letters, followed by a sheer endless, Star-Wars-Intro-Style list of DJ names.

Roger looked at the young promoter, rather puzzled.

„Now, don’t tell me you’re going to Hornby!“ a curiously mocking voice addressed Roger from behind. He turned looking into the smirking face of Hermione.

„D’no .. shall I?“ he asked in a rather serious tone.

„Oh, come on! Have you seen the list of DJs on that flyer? It’s longer than the list of wines in a three-star Michelin restaurant! How long are they supposed to play - 20 mins each?“. Hermione was about to get into lecture-mode, which Roger knew all too well.

„Don’t worry, Hermione, I won’t. I prefer a decent club over a festival anytime and you know so. Just look at that list of DJs - it’s endless and yet it has no meaning at all. Those big festivals they’ve achieved the goal of every businessman in the history of the music business: to eliminate the power of the acts. It doesn’t matter at all who’s playing, or what they’re playing, or for how long for that matter, as long as they’re somewhat famous. People go for the experience, to see and be seen, to hang out and chill. It’s a vacation, not a night on the dance floor.”

1.2 It’s a fallacy to think that those festivals do have anything in common with the rave-scene of the 90s. To be part of the rave-scene then, was a statement against social norms, obligations, and limits. Just as house and techno were disco’s hidden revenge to white rock, raves were the modern form of an anti-establishment movement. The operational HQ of that movement was the party, which is rooted in club culture.

Ever since the first club nights of the early seventies the dance floor was the epicenter of any musical and social evolution. A place where like-minded people meet and gather: to dance, to drink, to take drugs, to celebrate life. But what club culture is really made up of is a universal desire - a desire for being part of something bigger, a desire to be alive.

And, of course, club culture brought into life it’s very own cliches: be it a certain dress-code or a certain reference to sexuality. Older dancers still feel awkward when there are too many „kids“ around, while the younger generation rightly blames the older for its complacency. Differences that not only make the scene interestingly exciting but, more importantly, sculpt the very scene itself.

But never forget that even today, in a time where most endeavors are started with clear financial intentions, there’s this underlying, unassuming goal that is as resonant today as it has ever been. And happily, it is also one that can be realized. You see, at the heart of every dance floor lies a simple premise: have a party, play some good music, dance with your friends, and meet new like-minded people.“

So, next time you’ll catch yourself sitting around bored at a festival, call a taxi and tell the driver: “Quick, away from here. Bring us back to the club”.

1.3 Reviews

Leech - Data Horde (Peak Oil)

Imagine a singular synthesizer roaming through space emanating signals of existence, always on the look-out for a distant echo. Dubified chord stabs reaching into infinity, splattered and spliced rhyth:con:structions evoking memories of early breakbeat culture, acid jostles sounding like remnant signals of a distant orchestra buried in the detritus of a fallen star.

Leech, aka Brian Foote, is a master in transfiguration, exfoliating his tracks, breaking them down into core elements of each respective genre, then mending those skeletal corpses back together, morphing them into something new.

Data Horde is nothing less than a data dump of uncut nuggets of electronic music morph-mutating - while playing - into finely refined pieces of art.

Robotalco - Callisto (100% Silk)

What to expect from an artist with a stated mission to explore „liquid vibes, 80s French industrial, futuristic house, and the intangible crossroads of Kingston and Detroit“?

In the case of Milanese melting potter Sebastiano Urciuoli aka Robotalco, it doesn’t really matter, for all expectations will be rendered obsolete. Not because „Callisto“ is such a unique and new approach to electronic (house) music, it’s not. But every track (if not each part of every track) on this LP takes you by surprise, whirling your head around until you willfully surrender and simply start listening to each and every track as it is.

And there is plenty: the reminiscence of late 1990s Chicago Deep House, the industrial brutality of the fiercest Metal Heads productions, the endless repetition of African clockwork rhyth:mancy, the intriguing sample:mania… all of it congealing into a vehicle for dreamscapes.

Robotalco’s understanding of dance music is the key to this magic and makes an hour spent with this album more than worthwhile.

Wice - Anticipate Home EP (Steinlach)

Too many people fall prey to the dichotomy of nostalgia when what they really experience is sonic fiction. Wice remarkably demonstrates this with four tracks on the young „Steinlach” imprint, a label from my home town Tuebingen.

Exploring static energy, Wice readily stimulates elektrons to form a dense pulsating noise floor full of hidden info-patterns. Speeding at 138bpm they turn your eardrum into a futurized enigma machine, transmitting encoded movement patterns to your limps. Making you witness the unwitnessed, turning you into a medium transmitting sensory current. Perception blows up and in the ruins, the listener goes traveling, reminiscing of moments witnessed a long time ago.

On „Anticipate Home”, tiny and delicate sounds and melodies enrich this sensation, filling the gaps that a kick drum-gone-wild hammered into the sonic canvas, while a singular synth chord keeps telling of glorious tales.

„Untitled Sleepness“ and „Symbiose Eins“ close out loosing themselves into infinity. Wild safaris in a heavenly dreamland.

Odd Okoddo - Okitwoye (Pingipung)

Africa is running like an endless thread through 2019. So much beautiful and empowering music and such cultural heritage, yes even in Central Europe. Odd Okoddo is a prime example.

The Kenyan/German duo formed by Olith Ratego and Sven Kacirek gift us with a multi-layered love-letter. Swinging rhythms, sparse afro electronic sounds, mesmerizing chants - sci-fi blues at it’s best.

The B-side hosts a remix by Peter Power amplifying the essence of the song, stripping it down even further. Early hours candy.

Spaza - Spaza (Mushroom Hour)

Spaza is a loose collective and a vehicle of constant change and improvisation. Coming from their respective jazz, afro-funk, and experimental electro scenes this ever-changing group of musicians from Johannesburg aims for absolute freedom and independence of sound.

Meticulously articulated yet wildly improvised this album was recorded in one take and that’s where all its beauty stems from. When the members of this group tune into the state of experimentation they become creative deities of sound.

Think of their instruments as tools for not only painting pictures but building worlds. Percussion and upright bass being the ever-present skeletal constructors. Effect pedals go wild distorting synths and reverberizing strings with hypnotic fervor.

Delightful voices keep weaving divine patterns of life with every breath. Their chants and rhythmic repetition skillfully conveying life in the township - from peace and serenity to violence and aggression erupting at a moment’s notice.

Spaza presents to you a sonic palette as broad as the universe. A wild journey through indigenous exploration and global expansion and of a pervasive haunting quality.

1.4 This is for you.

I think it’s a fascinating time to be involved with independent publishing on the web. As more stuff gets shoved into silos, and less content is built on open platforms, a little bit of the founding spirit of this place is lost. I guess it’s similar to the whole record store and vinyl thing.

I’d like for us to see just how good this can get. And think about how we can make them better - so please feel free to reply to this letter and send me your thoughts and comments. I will read them!

Thank you for reading, and for your support. And yes, unsubscription is always a quick click at the bottom of this newsletter.

Bobby Mhark