By now you may have heard of a website called Muxtape. In a way, I’m surprised it hasn’t been shut down already. It’s probably the most blatantly illegal website since YouTube. Technically, I guess, you’re meant to own the copyright to everything you upload to the service. But of course that’s not what most people use it for.

Muxtape is an enticingly simple website that lets you make a little playlist of tunes, a bit like a mixtape. Webware jokes, as if you would remember mixtapes! Meanwhile, David Title ponders if you have to be between the ages of 29-45 for the mixtape to mean anything to you!

I’m 22 (almost typed 21 there… can’t bear the adulthood), and I love the romance of mixtapes. It is like instant nostalgia. Cassettes are meant to be naff, and they are to an extent. But holding a tape is quite special, like holding a past future in your hands. Defects such as tape hiss, wow and flutter are as acceptable as surface noise. They add to the quaint beauty of the cassette.

And here is the thing. I used to make mixtapes. Then one day I decided to “upgrade” to CD-Rs. The CD-Rs would surely be more reliable and durable, right? Pah. The CD-Rs I bought were defective. For some reason iTunes (or the CD-R, I don’t know which) was making the audio of each track start two seconds before the access points. I wasted 4 CD-Rs trying to fix it, to no avail. Then it was reported to me that the CD-R wouldn’t even play! Annoying or what? The packet of faulty CD-Rs still sits beside me unused.

For all of their faults, cassettes are at least more reliable in the medium term than this. I have come to the decision that CD mixes are a bit like sending someone a letter but typing it out rather than handwriting it. You still put in the hard graft constructing it, but it is still somehow less personal, less human.

Of course, Muxtape is nothing like a mixtape. Indeed, it is probably even worse than a CD. As has been pointed out by David Title, a real mixtape is:

hours of love and care and cursing your slipping on the pause button. It’s recording little personal messages between the songs. It’s handwritting the titles and artists in painfully small print. It’s an act of love.

Muxtapes cannot even be personal. The terms (whatever they’re worth, given the dubious legality of the service) restrict you to one account only — and that’s a public account.

Nonetheless, that cute picture of the C90, the blocks of colours, the oh-so-fashionable massive Helvetica font (not that I’m guilty of that one) and the sheer simplicity of Muxtape is enough to reel you in and get you to make your own.

And make my own I did. Here is my Muxtape.

I should point out that if you like any of the tunes on my Muxtape, I think you should buy the album (the ‘Buy from Amazon’ link on Muxtape is a new addition today — a handy hint). I bought all of these. In the case of John Cage, I bought four different performances of it. In the case of Autechre, I bought the album twice.

Incidentally, there is an interesting take on the legality or otherwise of Muxtape at WebJam. The fact that Muxtape does not provide you with an easy method to download the music may be its saving grace. Besides, the cat is out of the bag. In the same way as shutting down Napster didn’t stop peer to peer filesharing, closing down Muxtape will only lead to several new clones of it.

On the simplicity of Muxtape, it is appealing — but it does make it rather light of features. There is no search function and even Google is blocked from indexing pages on Maxtape. Instead, you are presented with a random list of Muxtapes. Apart from that, you have to rely on word-of-mouth to find anyone’s Muxtape.

It’s just as well some clever fellow has created a smart Last.fm / Muxtape mashup (via Qwghlm). Enter in your Last.fm username and it will find Muxtapes containing artists that you like. Awesome.

In the meantime, it’s worth remembering that Last.fm itself has provided its own playlist service for years now, and it is on much more solid legal ground. There are some annoying restrictions — of course, you can only choose from the tracks that Last.fm has on its servers. Plus, perhaps even more frustratingly, the music is shuffled. This robs you of one of the joys of putting together a mixtape: getting the track order right. Catch my Last.fm playlist here.

I have now had well over a month to digest the MP3s, and I have had the CD (and what a lovely object that is) for a week. High time for me to review Quaristice, Autechre’s first album for three years.

Pinksy encouraged me to write a track-by-track review, but I will not do that in case I make an arse of myself like that other guy. That, and because I can’t think of enough things to say about each track. And I know nothing about electronic music production so I really would be making an arse of myself.

Anyway, onward!

The album starts off with a real surprise. ‘Altibzz’ is perhaps Autechre’s most luscious track since the days of Amber or Tri Repetae. It is not often that Autechre stray into making these beatless soundscapes any more, but it is a real treat when they do.

Paradoxically, for what is perhaps Autechre’s most immediately accessible track in a long time, for this very reason it was disorientating to listen to for the first time. It is an unsettling beginning to the album, because it leaves no preparation for what is to follow, namely the kind of brain-rattling beat bombardment associated with their post-LP5 work.

‘Altibzz’ is immediately followed by ‘The Plc’, a rather more dizzying track. It starts of with a kind of slippery-sounding beat, backed up with a dense synthy soundscape, like a darker ‘Altibzz’. The track progresses, in typical Autechre style, into something quite different yet the same. I love the vocals towards the end.

Autechre aficionados will immediately recognise some parts of Quaristice from the leaked recording of their 2005 gig in Glasgow as part of the Untilted tour. ‘IO’ brings us the first recognisable moment. However, I find this version disappointingly superficial compared to the live one. This had a lot more power live.

The other recognisable moment is ‘chenc9′. For me, this track succeeds much more on the album. It is a real high point towards the end of the album — upbeat, accessible and danceable, but as uncompromisingly intricate as any Autechre track.

However, my favourite track from the album is ‘Simmm’. This is not one of Autechre’s most intricate tracks. It’s rather immediate actually, with a funky melody and a groovy array of electronic percussive sounds. Another top track is ‘Perlence’. It sounds like ‘Popcorn’ by Hot Butter fucked with big time. Despite the ‘popcorn’ connotations in the sounds in this track, it’s a great listen. I also absolutely love ‘fwzE’. It reminds me of ‘The Trees’ but groovier.

A lot has been made about the immediacy of Quaristice in many of the reviews that I have read. I have to say that, in general, I did not feel this at all. I “got” Untilted straight away, and even Draft 7.30 was more immediate for me.

But listening to Quaristice gave me that stereotypical reaction to new Autechre music. I didn’t know what to think, I couldn’t possibly take in what I had listened to. I was quite confused really. I suppose I fell into the trap of wanting to hear Autechre’s last album rather than anything new. I was really looking forward to an Untilted II, which of course isn’t really the point of Autechre.

The initial alienation I felt was particularly exacerbated by the fact that, to me, Quaristice doesn’t feel much like an album. It skips from styles and moods with seemingly little thought to the overall flow of the album. With the additional fact that these tracks are much shorter than those on your standard Autechre album (20 tracks around 3–4 minutes long as opposed to 9 tracks around 7–8 minutes long), I was reminded most of Gescom’s MiniDisc.

Perhaps the fact that the tracks are relatively short by Autechre’s standards is one reason why some people found this album accessible. I just didn’t get that easy door in. After Untilted I smugly believed that I had learned to “read” Autechre as much as I needed to. Quaristice has certainly put me in my place!

It is interesting to point out here that in one of their recent interviews (in Wire magazine, not available online), Autechre have explained that the idea of Quaristice is to get to the meat of the track straight away, without any of the “language lessons” as they called the build-up of the track. I understand exactly what they mean, but for me the build-up was a lot of the fun of Autechre, and that has been taken away here.

If Quaristice has an overall sound, I would have to say that I think this is Autechre’s darkest album to date. One track in Untilted made me feel uneasy — ‘Pro Radii’. My first impression of Quaristice was as though I was listening to ‘Pro Radii’ for the first time, several times over.

A huge period of darkness comes towards the middle of the album. This period begins with ‘paralel Suns’, where, incidentally, the weaknesses of the MP3 format are shown up the most. This is followed by ‘Steels’, perhaps (along with ‘90101-5l-l’) the track that most reminds me of ‘Pro Radii’.

Next comes ‘Tankakern’, which at first I felt was reminiscent of ‘777′, one of my least favourite Autechre tracks. This, however, has been the typical Autechre grower. Now I think it approaches the brilliance of Confield, which I consider to be the pinnacle of electronic music. This track particularly reminds me of ‘Bine’ from that excellent album. Bonus marks go to ‘Tankakern’ for the inclusion of birdsong.

‘rale’ is where things start to become groovy again. A simple but addictively enjoyable beat accompanied by a rather immediate syncopated melody, though towards the end there are some rather unsettling sounds that remind me a bit of the creepy psuedo-subliminal messages in Boards of Canada’s Music Has the Right to Children.

We only truly emerge from the dark patch with ‘bnc Castl’. The track starts off ominously enough. But within seconds it becomes some madcap shiny, sparkly tune with tinsel flying all over the place. It sounds a bit like an ice cream van having a fight — a really rhythmic fight — with an ambulance.

It transpires that ‘bnc Castl’ is only a surreal interlude, as it is followed by ‘Theswere’. This sounds like it actually could be from a horror film soundtrack, albeit one where the monster is a draining sink. To be honest, this track is a bit cheesy by Autechre’s standards.

‘WNSN’ is not so intimidating, although it still has a very other-worldly quality to it. This track is very reminiscent of EP7-era material, particularly ‘Zeiss Contarex’.

Towards the end of the album we see a return to the more ambient sound found at the beginning. However, these closing two tracks do not succeed as much as ‘Altibzz’ for me. ‘Notwo’ would be quite pleasant, but the melody seems a bit ham-fisted and it’s not the most polished-sounding of tracks. Perhaps that was the intention, but I’m afraid I don’t like it.

The final track, ‘Outh9X’ is more like it, but not quite the triumphant climax it could have been. I know that Autechre are quite challenging, but even though initially many of their tracks sound very odd they tend to make most sense if you switch off your brain and just let it all wash over you; allow it to appeal on an innate, subconscious level.

This is not allowed to happen on ‘Outh9X’. I just don’t get the strange plinky-plonky melody that fades in and out towards the beginning and middle of this track. It seems completely out of place. It is quite off-putting and is enough to ruin the whole track for me.

Overall, I have to say that I find Quaristice to be quite an odd album. By any normal standards, it is brilliant. I don’t mean to come across as fanboyish (although I am a bit of an Autechre fanboy), but I can’t help thinking to myself, why is there no-one in the world who can hold a candle to Autechre? I mean really, why are they so good? There are plenty of imitators, and lots of people making music in the IDM tradition. But why are none of them anything like this good?

On the other hand, by Autechre’s standards, Quaristice is, for me, quite a weak album. It is probably their weakest since Chiastic Slide.

It is true, however, that Autechre material needs a very long time to be digested. The music grows on you and you are forever seeing the music in new and interesting lights. By the time Autechre’s tenth album comes out, I will be craving more material in the vein if Quaristice, just as I was hungry for more music in the style of Untilted.

Even so, I can’t help feeling that this is Autechre’s least ambitious offering for a very long time. For me, the interesting thing about Quaristice is that it covers a lot of old ground. There are elements here of almost all of their previous albums.

I should point out that I have read the interviews, and I am aware of the circumstances under which this album was recorded. Even so, on a purely sonic level — from what my ears feel — Quaristice is retreading a lot of old ground.

I suppose in a way it is a bit too simplistic to think of Autechre’s music as becoming increasingly complex over time. In their earliest albums, this is certainly true. But since LP5 or EP7 Autechre’s music, although changing in style and mood from album to album, has zipped around within the same boundaries as far as the intricacy of their music goes. Perhaps they always wanted to sound like this, but were limited by technology in the early 1990s.

Anyway, I do feel like a right Crispy Godber now because I have certainly analysed this too much. The best way to approach Autechre is not the chin-strokey way celebrating needless complexity. While it’s certainly interesting to consider, the real reason I like Autechre, as I suspect is the real reason why anyone likes any music — or anything, for that matter: instinct. As I said somewhere above, let it wash over you and it will make sense on an innate level anyway.

I will return to Quaristice soon with a review of the limited edition second CD, Quaristice (Versions).

I was going to to a track-by-track review of Quaristice. Pinksy asked what it sounds like, which is quite a tough question to answer. I was tempted to give it a shot though.

But I think I will give the track-by-track review a miss — in case I end up sounding like this.

It already has its own parodies.

Like a bad Plaid track really. Is it ‘played’ or ‘plahd’?

In fairness, it is difficult to describe Autechre, and I defy anyone to pronounce most of Autechre’s track titles. But these parodies are too funny! Love the piss-take fake Autechre music in this one as well.

If there is a musical act I like more than Radiohead, it is Autechre. The release of Autechre’s new album, Quaristice, bears some resemblance to Radiohead’s attention-grabbing In Rainbows release. It also bears a lot of the hallmarks of my predictions / observations about the apparent future of the music industry which I wrote about earlier this month.

I has already been known for a while that a new Autechre album was due out on 3 March. But on Tuesday it was announced via an email to subscribers to the Warp Records newsletter that Quaristice was available to buy as a digital download immediately.

This is the second time in as many months that Warp has sprung a surprise. They did it last month by releasing Clark’s Throttle Promoter EP with no prior warning, along with the announcement of a new album, Turning Dragon, just a month away. It is a pleasant change given that Warp seem to like announcing an album several months in advance and switch the publicity machine into overdrive (and the recorded music industry wonders why people just illegally download albums instead of waiting).

Of course, I had to buy it straight away. Unfortunately, Bleep was struggling to cope with demand. After spending far too long trying to get the zipped download to work, I eventually resorted to laboriously downloading the album track by track. The whole process took over three hours. Ironically, it would have been a lot quicker and easier — not to mention cheaper — to just illegally download it.

On top of the immediate digital release, a limited edition version of Quaristice was announced. This is interesting because Autechre have never had a ‘limited edition’ version of one of their albums released alongside a standard edition. I don’t know if that was because Autechre didn’t like the idea or if Warp thought it wouldn’t be worth it. But whatever, this move seems to back up the observations I made a few weeks ago — the limited edition is becoming much more important for the recorded music industry.

The limited edition Quaristice sounds swish. It comes with a second CD of alternative versions of tracks from the album housed in a rather luxurious-sounding package:

The double CD set comes in a Designers Republic styled, photo-etched, 0.4mm steel slipcase with foil blocked inner gatefold wallet.

It comes at an equally luxurious price — £24.99. And postage is £5! Limited to 1,000 copies, it sold out really quickly, so I feel lucky that I didn’t hang around like I often do. I speculate that they could have easily sold 5,000.

The MP3s cost £6.99 (if I had opted to go for the lossless Flac files (which I didn’t because they are not iPod-compatible), it would have cost £8.99). As such, I have spent £36.98 on Quaristice — almost as much as the £40 Radiohead ‘discbox’.

Before In Rainbows I had never spent anything like £40 on an album. Now I have done it twice in the space of a few months. What a sucker. Who said it was impossible to make money from recorded music any more?

All-in-all, it is a very clever move by Warp. I have bought every Autechre album that’s ever been released for around a tenner. With a couple of sly moves they have managed to just about quadruple that. And judging from the trouble I had downloading it and the fact that the limited edition sold out so quickly, it has happened at least a thousand times over. The accountants at Warp must be happy today.

(Needless to say, I will be reviewing Quaristice when I get the chance.)

Getting there slowly but surely. We might be two weeks into 2008, but that won’t stop me from looking back at 2007. By this rate it will be February before we get to the end of this list…

20. The Tuss — Rushup Edge

Whoever is responsible for this is at least a genius at generating hype. While the music is ostensibly by Brian and Karen Tregaskin, there are all sorts of clues that point towards this being the work of Richard D. James.

It’s difficult to imagine such an obscure record to make the pages of The Guardian under normal circumstances, but the whiff of Aphex made it happen. And the sight of IDM spods on the internet excitedly polishing off their magnifying glasses (after The Campfire Headphase failed to contain any codes to crack) carried the hype overboard.

Of course, I had to buy it to see what all the fuss was about. Turns out the music is okay, and it certainly sounds like Aphex. I’d be very surprised if something this accomplished really was the work of a hitherto unheard-of duo based in deepest Cornwall.

19. Field Music — Tones of Town

Field Music are the least well known, but easily the best, of the triumvirate of artsy indie-rock bands from the north east of England (the other two bands being The Futureheads and Maxïmo Park). I have to admit to being a bit disappointed with this album at first, but as with previous Field Music records its wonders were revealed with repeated listens.

Their first album was a little delight that combined contemporary indie sensibilities with a liberal dose of syncopation, Beatles-style strings, some quasi-Steve Reich-style minimalism and little snatches of oddness. Tones of Town (while a bit on the short side) expanded on the template beautifully.

However, my highlight is a song that deviates slightly from the template: the more melancholic ‘Place Yourself’, a pleasant, reflective song.

Since the release of Tones of Town, Field Music have gone on hiatus as a band as we know it. But a solo project on Thrill Jockey is in the offing. I’m looking forward to hearing more of School of Language.

Video: ‘In Context’ — highly recommended viewing!

18. Scott Walker — And Who Shall Go to the Ball? And What Shall Go to the Ball?

Definitely the strangest release I got my hands on this year. Scott Walker wrote this music to accompany a contemporary dance piece. So we know what territory we are in here.

The music took some time to get used to, even for a fan of Scott Walker’s recent work. ‘Part 1′ really just consists of some electronic hums and some strange scraping sounds that sound a little bit like that noise people make before they exaggeratedly spit. This lasts for over three minutes, when some largely atonal strings come in, abruptly starting and stopping seemingly arbitrarily.

‘Part 2′ is no less weird, with a foreboding, driving, deep drum beat and string and horn sections squealing like an elephant in a particularly rhythmic distress. But the biggest surprise of them all isn’t to do with the music. Scott Walker’s distinctive voice does not make a single appearance in this entire work.

As you might guess, And Who Shall Go to the Ball?… takes some getting used to. I was certainly left feeling disappointed when I first heard it. But now I think it is quite good.

It certainly seems as though Mr. Walker is entering a rather prolific phase. In past decades you were lucky if Scott Walker brought out a new album every ten years. But hot on the heels of The Drift, he has been appearing on compilations and all sorts. Not to mention the other projects between Tilt and The Drift such as the Pola X soundtrack or producing Pulp’s We Love Life. Every year he seems to be doing a bit more than in the previous year. Here’s hoping.

17. Jonny Greenwood — There Will Be Blood

I think Jonny Greenwood is one of the most important musicians around at the moment. He is most famous for whacking around with guitars in Radiohead, but his solo music reveals him to be a highly accomplished composer as well.

The soundtrack to the film There Will Be Blood further cements this. The film is set in the early twentieth century, so there is not quite the same space for electronic experimentation as Jonny Greenwood had with Bodysong. What you get instead is a beautiful, melancholic mixture of piano, strings and ondes Martenot. The ondes Martenot is such a magical instrument, and it is used to great effect here.

Maybe I am getting carried away because Jonny Greenwood is a rock star. But I really think that ‘Eat Him By His Own Light’ is within touching distance of some of Erik Satie’s work.

The soundtrack contains a lot of work that Jonny Greenwood has done in his role as the BBC’s ‘composer in residence’. Notably, it contains excerpts of ‘Popcorn Superhet Receiver’. It is such a shame that ‘Smear’ — probably my favourite Jonny Greenwood piece — does not make an appearance as originally promised.

Unfortunately, not all of the music is engaging. Also, this album is only half an hour long even though Jonny Greenwood recorded two hours worth of music for the film. I suppose we should be grateful for the scraps, but the album ends without you realising it was even close to the end. Oh well.

16. Battles — Tonto+

I have to say that ‘Tonto’ wouldn’t have been my first choice as a single. Nothing against the song — it’s just a bit long-winded for a single. Mind you, my brother disagrees with me strongly on this!

There are no new tracks on the EP, although it is still quite a treat. After a disappointing remix of ‘Tonto’ by The Field, the seemingly omnipresent remixer Four Tet comes up with the goods. A remix of ‘Leyendecker’ by DJ Emz featuring Joell Ortiz is good enough, although it completely jars with the rest of the EP and the general Battles vibe.

Perhaps the best part of the EP, though, is two live tracks — performances of ‘Tonto’ and ‘Leyendecker’. I go on and on about how great Battles are live, and this is further proof. But as ‘Leyendecker’ winds down on this EP you can hear drummer John Stainer beginning ‘Race: In’, which just makes me desperate for a full live album of some sort. Make it happen!

Video: ‘Tonto’

15. Sigur Rós — Hvarf / Heim

A fair couple of mini-albums. I was getting a bit sick of Sigur Rós, but Hvarf / Heim won me over again.

Hvarf is basically a collection of old songs that never got released before, so it was never going to be a five star album. But nevertheless it is a good listen.

Heim is a more engaging listen. It is made up of some rather lovely live acoustic recordings of some of Sigur Rós’s best songs. The highlight is one of my favourite Sigur Rós songs, ‘Ágætis Byrjun’.

My original review of Hvarf / Heim

14. Air — Pocket Symphony

A reasonably pleasant album from Air. Not their best, but a good listen nonetheless. My main criticism with this album is that it sounds so similar to Talkie Walkie. So if you don’t like previous Air albums, it’s probably best to give Pocket Symphony a miss.

Even a collaboration with Jarvis Cocker feels like a missed opportunity. Another collaboration, ‘Somewhere Between Waking and Sleeping’, with Neil Hannon, is more successful — although it plays up to the stereotypes of ‘chill-out’ music. Nice song though.

There are some good songs — ‘Left Bank’ and ‘Mer du Japon’ are particular highlights. However, there is nothing approaching some of the killer songs they have come up with on previous albums.

If you like Air though, you will not be disappointed with Pocket Symphony.

13. Gescom — A1–D1

The mysterious Gescom collective resurfaces for the first time since 2003’s immense Iss:Sa. This new EP, A1–D1, appears to be a collection of six remixes, glitched up to the max.

The only one I can recognise is ‘B1′, which is a remix of Brian Eno + David Byrne’s ‘Come With Us’. It really highlights the spookier elements of the original song, which hadn’t really grabbed me before. It’s quite creepy to listen to really. One of those tracks to ban myself from listening to at night.

I haven’t heard of any of the other stuff that has been remixed for A1–D1, although people with a much better knowledge of the history of electronic dance music will apparently recognise them. It’s really groovy though.

‘A2′ is a good blast of messed up acid. ‘C1′ has a tantalising melody and jumpy beat that never seems to sit still (despite the fact that it doesn’t change much, if at all), leaving you wanting more. ‘C2′ starts off with one of the most dizzying soundscapes I have ever heard.

It is also being claimed by Skam that this is the world’s first ‘left-handed’ CD case. Yes, it opens the wrong way.

All-in-all, a really good Gescom release. I don’t know if the Autechre lads had anything to do with it, but it is nonetheless a good CD to have while we wait for Quaristice to come out.

12. Burial — Untrue

What I know about the fledgling dubstep genre could be written on the back of a postage stamp. It would say ‘Burial’ on it. I kept on reading about Burial. Somehow he has captured the attention of the chatterati, as I read more and more about him in places like The Guardian. Having seen ‘Burial’ written in too many end-of-year lists and ‘hear this before you die’ articles, I took the plunge and bought Untrue.

I had no real preconceptions. All I knew was that Burial was a ‘dubstep’ artist (dubstep being a relatively new kind of electronic music popular with Shoreditch types), and that he was fiercely anonymous to the point that “only five people know I make tunes“.

On first impressions I was a little underwhelmed. It sounded good, but it wasn’t quite what I was expecting. It was like a more experimental, sparse garage music. A bit like what Pole would sound like if he came from London.

I have to say, now that I am used to the sound I think it is fabulous. It sounds like it is from a futuristic urban dystopia. “London 2030, you’re the last man alive” sort of thing. A good accompaniment to last-night walks around town.

I don’t know if it will make me investigate the dubstep genre much further. It will certainly make me buy Burial’s first album at some point. Good stuff.

11. Modeselektor — Happy Birthday!

The latest Modeselektor album contains nothing revelatory. It certainly doesn’t grab me in the same way as their first album, Hello Mom!. And in a lot of ways, Happy Birthday! feels a lot like they are recycling old Modeselektor tunes.

However, I have still found myself enjoying this album immensely. ‘2000007 (feat. TTC)’ particularly gets stuck in my head a lot. It is an excellent mix of great music and good humour.

The collaborations with Thom Yorke and Maxïmo Park are missed opportunities for me. And if you’re looking for something different to their first album, you’ll have to look elsewhere. But it’s nonetheless a thoroughly enjoyable and engaging listen.