Archive: stereolab

Continuing my look at 20 Warp albums from Warp’s 20 years. For other articles in this series, please see the table of contents to the right. Albums are presented in randomised order.

Broadcast — The Noise Made by People

The Noise Made by People coverThis was the first Warp album I ever bought, and it remains a favourite of mine to this day. Broadcast’s music is heavily steeped in 1960s influence, and comparisons with Stereolab are commonplace (and not inaccurate). But they sound anything but derivative.

The Noise Made by People has a dark and slightly creepy aesthetic. Most of the album creeps along at a rather slow pace. Then there are Trish Keenan’s almost robotic vocals. The music itself — largely based on 1960s-style electronic instruments — could almost be transmitted directly from that decade, complete with unsettling background noise.

Put together, this all gives the music a rather otherworldly vibe. It is as though you are listening to a ghostly music that has been trapped in the airwaves since the 1960s and has only just escaped.

Funnily enough, the real life story of the recording of this album is similar to the picture I have just described. It is said that Broadcast struggled with the recording of the album, and it took three years to make. Perhaps this is another reason why it sounds clinical, though it’s all the more captivating for it.

Since The Noise Made by People, Broadcast have reduced in size to become just the core duo of Trish Keenan and James Cargill. In turn, the music has become less dense and more raw, and has lost the otherworldly qualities of their earlier material. Although Broadcast is still a good band, I feel that they were definitely at their peak with this album.

This video for ‘Come On Let’s Go’ captures the aesthetic of the album really well:

Tortoise — Standards

Standards coverMany feel that Tortoise were at their strongest in the 1990s. I did not discover them until 2001, so maybe I am biased in that sense. But I think that the band was at the height of its creative powers with Standards.

Quite simply, it was one of the most unique-sounding albums I had ever heard and remains one of my favourite listens to this day. The effortless fusion of punchy rock, cutting-edge electronic music, multi-layered drumming and jazz makes this an extraordinarily bold album that captivates you from start to finish.

If ever there was an album that was definitively not just ‘going through the motions’, it is surely Standards — despite its title. This record documents Tortoise standing on the very edge of what is possible with rock music. I find it impossible to become bored of this album. There is so much going on in so many layers.

Each instrument would be fascinating to listen to on its own (this was proved when the rhythm section of Tortoise released an album of drums and little else called Bumps). Each band member is doing his own thing. And yet, everything here makes a perfect fit.

Nothing Tortoise have produced since then has come close to reaching the standard of Standards. But then again, few albums by any bad do.

This is the video for the attention-grabbing album opener, ‘Seneca’:

Seefeel – Succour

Succour coverI only discovered this album a few years ago — probably over a decade after it was originally released. But I am glad I opted to buy it. The music is from the place where ambient, shoegaze, indie and techno all converge. The allure of Seefeel comes from its mixture of ambient-style drones and textures, techno-influenced minimalist drums and guitars, and the dreamy, processed vocals of singer Sarah Peacock.

Although superficially it feels like a pure techno / IDM album, the use of guitars and live drums was unusual for a Warp release at that time. This is what led Steve Beckett to recently single it out as “the first sacreligious move”.

Musically, Succour is a fabulous success. But if you thought this was the evidence that guitars could happily sit in a techno environment, think again. Apparently due to Mark Clifford’s efforts to push the band in a more electronic direction, the old artistic differences emerged and the band only lasted a few years after the release of Succour.

In a way, I feel as though I have missed out by not experiencing this music when it was first released. It must have been so incredibly exciting, at the cutting edge, when it was released. It would be interesting to hear what this band would come up with today.

Incredibly, Seefeel have recently re-formed. Initially this was for a one-off gig as part of the Warp20 celebrations. But there are now hints that Seefeel have also been in the studio. I can’t wait to hear any results that might come out of this.

Chris Morris — Blue Jam

Blue Jam coverChris Morris, as one of Britain’s most influential satirists, probably needs little introduction. But few may immediately associate him with Warp Records. But Warp has been the outlet for a lot of his material, including the CD releases of the radio series On the Hour and his Bafta-winning short film My Wrongs #8245-8249 & 117 among other bits and pieces. Warp Films is also backing his current project, Four Lions.

But his first CD on Warp was a compilation of sketches from his experimental radio programme, Blue Jam (which was later turned into the television series Jam). This was a dark comedy, equal parts disturbing and funny. Unusually, the sketches were surrounded by a constant backdrop of ambient music (much of which was originally released on Warp) from the likes of Aphex Twin. Perhaps even more unusually, the show was originally broadcast on Radio 1. It inhabited a late-night slot which fitted with the programme’s surreal, woozy and nightmarish style.

The series contained a mixture of music and comedy; of the surreal and the disturbing; of sketches and monologues. Most of it was a world away from his previous material, though from time to time Morris would drop in one of his infamous interviews. Here, he flummoxes posthumous Diana biographer Andrew Morton.

Music of 2008

A series of posts

  1. Music of 2008: #25–#11
  2. Music of 2008: Top ten

10. Stereolab — Chemical Chords

Chemical Chords artwork
This is more or less what you would expect from Stereolab. Fantastically jaunty and slightly idiosyncratic pop songs. This is hardly Stereolab’s best album (and I say that as someone who has only heard three of them), but it is a joy nonetheless.

9. David Byrne and Brian Eno — Everything That Happens Will Happen Today

Everything That Happens Will Happen Today artwork
This pair produced one of the most important and experimental albums of recent decades. But My Life in the Bush of Ghosts was over 25 years ago, and this was the first time they had worked together since. There was no point in expecting the same again, and what we have here is an album of fairly conventional — though diverse — pop songs. It seems as though Brian Eno’s mission in life just now is to make good songs (which have good lyrics). There are some great songs here (I particularly like ‘I Feel My Stuff’), but it ain’t a world changer.

8. Neon Neon — Stainless Style

Stainless Style artwork
Boom Bip and Gruff Rhys built on their earlier collaborations to create this most unlikely of concept albums. It is based on the life of John DeLorean, creator of the DeLorean car which was clad in stainless steel. The music revels in the 1980s concept, and the slightly off-the-wall idea behind the album belies a clear genuine love of indulgent 1980s synth-pop. A great listen.

7. Various artists — BBC Radiophonic Workshop: A Retrospective

BBC Radiophonic Workshop: A Retrospective artwork
A great look back at the legacy of the BBC Radiophonic Workshop, the hugely influential electronic music department. This 2CD set compiles music from the entire 40 year life of the Workshop. The first CD is absolutely charming, and my jaw drops thinking about how much effort was put into these early electronic masterpieces. The later music is not so special — ironically as the technology got better it only opened up a world of identikit sounds. This is not enough to spoil the CD as a whole though.

In-depth review of BBC Radiophonic Workshop: A Restrospective

6. The Advisory Circle — Other Channels

I just adore this album, which faithfully recreates vintage electronic music of the sort we were all exposed to in our youth. Be transported to two or three decades back. Television idents, programmes for schools, public information films, library music… dare I say the Radiophonic Workshop? But all with more than a smidgen of creepiness and uneasiness built in. It’s Boards of Canada+. If that’s your sort of thing this really is an essential purchase. Don’t listen to it at night though.

5. John Baker — The John Baker Tapes Volume 1 and 2

The John Baker Tapes Volume 2 artworkThe John Baker Tapes Volume 1 artwork
John Baker was one of the most important members of the BBC Radiophonic Workshop. This pair of CDs unearthed a load of hidden gems from his career that may otherwise have ended up in a skip. Volume 1 documents his work at the BBC, with lots of great bits and pieces like news jingles, theme tunes and little bits for educational programmes (I love the song about not being taken in by slick salesmen). Volume 2 focuses on his commercial work and private recordings of his jazz piano playing. There are notes on each of the tracks, an in-depth biography written by his brother, Richard Anthony Baker, and a recording of the Radio 5 Live obituary broadcast also by Richard Anthony Baker.

The CDs serve not only as an important document of John Baker’s work, or even a collection of important electronic music — but almost as a time capsule of 1960s and 1970s life in Britain. Tracks titles like ‘Decimal Currency’, ‘Building the Bomb’ and ‘Giro Advert’ serve to make the collection an important document of social history too.

In-depth review of The John Baker Tapes Volumes 1 and 2

4. Squarepusher — Just A Souvenir

Just A Souvenir artwork
Tom Jenkinson expanded on the more live sound he has developed since Ultravisitor by producing this concept album inspired by a fantasy futuristic band from his daydreams. It’s a good device that allows him to become quite indulgent with his use of experimental electronic techniques, while also exhibiting his über bass and drumming skills. At the same time there are gloriously poppy songs like the irresistible ‘A Real Woman’.

In-depth review of Just A Souvenir

3. The Fiery Furnaces — Remember

Remember artwork
The Fiery Furnaces don’t know how to do anything the conventional way, and they even found a way to completely change the way you can think of a live album. The recordings are pieced together from a variety of different concerts. And it’s not just different songs from different recordings. Different recordings of the same song are spliced together, mercilessly interrupting itself in the middle, complete with jarring changes in sound quality. It is not as annoying as you might think. Along with the fact that the live versions of songs are often radically different to the original studio recording, this is sure not to be a wasted purchase.

In-depth review of Remember

2. Autechre — Quaristice and Quaristice (Versions)

Quaristice artwork
Autechre seldom fail to surprise. The often imitated but never bettered duo specialise in altering your perception of what music can be. With Quaristice they pushed on with their particular brand of pathbreaking electronic music. But it lacks the coherence of previous albums, jumping about in style and mood from track to track while previous albums had a well defined sound of their own. Instead of the eight or nine long tracks, Quaristice has 20 tracks more typically three or four minutes long. I originally felt that it was a weak album, but now whenever I listen to it I find myself completely loving it. Even a disappointing Autechre album is head and shoulders above what anyone else produces.

Quaristice (Versions), the extra CD that came with the limited edition version, is shaped more like a traditional Autechre album, but the music itself is more of the same — literally. Longer cuts give these tracks more room to breathe, making it a perfectly pleasurable listen, even if it did begin to feel like you were paying for the same music several times over (especially if you bought Quaristice.Quadrange.ep.ae, which I reviewed in the earlier post).

In-depth review of Quaristice

1. Portishead — Third

Third artwork
Hands up who expected this album to be crap? An 11 year gestation period did not bode well. But the end result is in fact excellent. Actually, I could hardly believe what a good job Portishead had done. Clearly having made a conscious decision to avoid the Portishead trademarks which turned into trip hop clichés, the band have set themselves a subtly new direction and have pulled it off magnificently. There is still that slightly dark and black-and-white sound. But now there is a rather more live feel to the music, albeit with more of an emphasis on jaggy and sometimes slightly unsettling electronic sounds. And the songs are absolutely top-notch. I hope it isn’t 11 years until the next Portishead album.

I am a bit late with my ranking of albums of 2007. I know it’s the new year and it’s not very fashionable to be looking back once the new year has begun. But unlike some people — who publish their lists in early December or sometimes even mid-November — I like to wait until the end of the year until posting my end-of-year list.

Unfortunately, it is taking a bit of time for me to finish off the post. You know how I like to witter on. Plus, ahem, I still haven’t received a rather important album from 2007 through the post.

In the meantime, some stats porn from my Last.fm account to give you an idea of what I listened to in 2007.

A few caveats here. I got an iPod sometime during autumn, which means that I now scrobble my out-and-about listening habits, which wasn’t possible when I used my iRiver. As such, my obsession with Battles early on in the year only registers a little bit, whereas the purchase of Radiohead’s In Rainbows in October is visible for all to see.

Okay, on to the graph. I have written before about the rather fun LastGraph service. I have decided to create a LastGraph of my 2007 listening. Of course, it isn’t restricted to music that was released in 2007, but it does give a flavour of my listening habits over the year.

I’m afraid it isn’t easy to see the detail in this image, but as you can see it is rather large enough as it is. If you click on the image, you will be able to see the full-blown PDF file, if you are really all that interested. (Warning: The PDF is a big file — 2.64MB.)

My listening habits over 2007

The first 2007 releases to register in the graph are Field Music’s Tones of Town and Shining’s Grindstone. Battles’s Mirrored makes a small appearance in March, but as I said it is much lower than you would expect if you knew how much I genuinely listened to the album.

Besides Ceephax and Air, nothing too much of interest happens until June. Then comes Björk’s Volta. Not soon afterwards comes the magical week which saw the release of albums by Justice and Simian Mobile Disco. Also registering here are album I bought by Cornelius and Stereolab, although these weren’t from 2007. (Incidentally, this period shows a sustained reduction in the amount of music I listened to, reflecting how unusually busy I was during the summer.)

In August you can see the biggest patch of the year — The Future Sound of London, from when I bought From the Archives volumes 1–3. After that comes another huge patch of Blur, a period where I bought a few albums of theirs and even wrote about them on this blog. A bit of an obsessive period.

Soon enough pretty much everything is crowded out by In Rainbows. If you look carefully towards the end of the year you can also see The Fiery Furnaces, Gescom and Burial.

In terms of charts, here is how my rolling year chart for artists looks like.

  1. Radiohead — 811 plays
  2. The Future Sound of London — 613
  3. Autechre — 602
  4. Pulp — 567
  5. The Fiery Furnaces — 549
  6. Boards of Canada — 538
  7. Blur — 530
  8. Aphex Twin — 453
  9. Squarepusher — 428
  10. Battles — 425

And for tracks, In Rainbows pretty much dominates. Not bad considering it’s only been out since October. Battles and Shining also get a look in here. Justice, Björk and The Fiery Furnaces also feature in the top 50.

I’ll post my thoughts on the music of 2007 over the next week or so.

An Electric Storm cover art Despite my interest in electronic music, my collection — shamefully — doesn’t contain very much from before the 1990s. The only ones that I can think of from the top of my head are an album of music from the BBC Radiophonic Workshop, some Brian Eno and Steve Reich. A recent purchase makes me wonder if I should be buying more old electronic music.

White Noise was the idea of David Vorhaus, a classical double bassist with an interest in electronics. After attending a lecture, he approached members of the BBC Radiophonic Workshop — Delia Derbyshire (creator of the famous Doctor Who theme tune) and Brian Hodgson (who created the sounds of the Tardis and the Daleks). Together, they worked for a year on An Electric Storm, perhaps one of the most seminal electronic music albums there has ever been.

Incidentally, Delia Derbyshire was a genius in her own right. On an album showcasing Music from the BBC Radiophonic Workshop, Derbyshire’s work stands out. ‘Time to Go’ takes the famous pips of the Greenwich Time Signal and turns it into a cacophony of blips and bleeps before descending into farts, burps and squirts. I wonder if it inspired David Lowe?

‘Ziwzih Ziwzih OO-OO-OO’ is my favourite though. An utterly mad piece of music centring around a mad robotic chant. It sounds like it could have been created by a trippy early 1970s rock band, but it was made by a geek in a lab. There is a clip about this particular piece on this page about the BBC documentary ‘Alchemists of Sound’.

Back to An Electric Storm though. Listening to it, you can tell that it is not a recent work. It contains the sort of tricks used by the Radiophonic Workshop. But in a way this is what amazes me the most about it. This album is almost forty years old, yet it sounds more amazing than a great deal of the electronic music made today.

It’s all the more impressive when you consider the multiple hurdles the group had to clear. Having signed a contract with Island Records, they realised that they didn’t know how they were going to record the album. The first works were made by sneaking into the studios of the Radiophonic Workshop. But making an entire album this way would have been too risky. They had to build their own studio and using home-made equipment.

The album was made in an era before the widespread availability of synthesisers. Most of the noises were made by tape manipulation, a laborious task. The technique sounds a bit like an audio version of stop-motion animation. An original sound (from, for instance, Vorhaus’s bass) would have to be sped up or slowed down for each and every note. Even echo effects were achieved by rather crude means — playing two identical tapes out of phase.

A particularly ambitious song, ‘The Visitation’, took three months to make. Recording was taking so long that they faced legal action from Island and had to finish the album overnight. That the track in question — ‘Black Mass: An Electric Storm in Hell’ — doesn’t sound as though it was particularly rushed boggles my mind.

And what did White Noise receive for their toil? The album sold a paltry 200 copies in its first year, and the group made just £280. Luckily for us, and for electronic music as a whole, it gained traction in subsequent years and became an underground classic. This year it was remastered and re-released.

It is a genuinely pioneering record. Today an artist is labelled ‘experimental’ just for using a farty synth. But White Noise were actually pushing the boundaries and creating something truly amazing. It’s incredible to think that something so ambitious for its time should actually stand the test of time this well.

The album opens with the intriguing ‘Love Without Sound’. Vorhaus’s intention was to release this as a single to try and convert the population to electronic music. The result is a song that is equal parts accessible and impenetrable.

John Whitman’s vocals are other-worldly and detached. The music is a surreal, part-humorous, part-unsettling cacophony of clicks, clacks and warbles. This cleverly interacts with female laughs and moans. Despite the wide and unpredictable range of sounds, the resulting collage makes perfect sense, in its own surreal way. Think the “ho-ho, he-he, ha-ha” bit in ‘I Am the Walrus’, but lasting for an entire song.

This is followed by ‘My Game of Loving’. This track features a famous section of mad tumbling drums laid on top of a kaleidoscopic orgy which is comically followed by snoring. The sex-frenzy is sonically interesting, but make sure you don’t have your iPod too loud or you’ll get some funny looks on the train.

This track particularly reminds me of two more recent electronic acts. The spliced tabla-style drums remind me very much of Asa-Chang & Junray, while I would be amazed if the orgy section didn’t inspire some of Aphex Twin’s more humorous moments. This is not to mention Stereolab and Broadcast, who are influenced by White Noise as a whole.

The humour continues on the next track, ‘Here Come the Fleas’. While today’s electronic musicians are perceived as being serious, beard-stroking types, ‘Here Come the Fleas’ reminds you of the comedy potential of electronic music. The song lays into a lazy slob’s poor hygiene standards. The middle of the song is dominated by a brilliant section that would have made a cool guitar solo. It would have been so easy just to pick up a guitar and do it, but they had to go the hard way and make it with tapes, didn’t they?

That is on the “happy” side, known as ‘Phase-In’. People must have thought that this pioneering electronic music is a barrel of laughs. They were in for a shock when the turned the record over for the ‘Phase-Out’ side. The smiles and laughter are wiped away and the listener is treated to something that approaches the horror genre.

‘The Visitation’ — the track that took three months to make — is, for me, the highlight of the album. This stunning piece is about a couple of lovers who are torn apart by a motorcycle accident. As the girl screams, “please don’t go”, the motorcycle crashes. The spirit of the man who was killed tries to communicate with his weeping girlfriend, but is unable to.

It’s quite spine-chilling really. The music is genuinely haunting and really paints a picture of a dark, rainy night on a remote road where the motorcyclist is killed. It uses stereo to brilliant effect as well.

The singing and narration also creates the right mood. The spirit’s voice echoes spookily, while the singer is the coldly neutral bearer of bad news. When he sings, “Her lover’s not asleep, he’s DEEEAAAAD”, it makes the hairs on my neck stand up.

As I said, it could actually be a horror film. It would make a cracking piece of radio drama. This could be one of my favourite pieces of music. An eleven minute journey into a horrifying affair — it’s impossible not to feel sad listening to it.

Listening to An Electric Storm, there is no doubt that it is a unique product of 1969, the like of which could never be made again. Pitchfork’s review of the album says:

White Noise’s landmark 1969 album An Electric Storm might not the first thing most people think of when considering 1960s music, but there are few records anywhere tied more intrinsically to the moment of their creation. Recorded in the months immediately prior to the widespread availability of keyboard-based synthesizers, An Electric Storm might be one of the most painstakingly crafted electronic recordings of all time. Pieced together on improvised equipment via innumerable tape edits, this remarkable album is at once futuristic and unavoidably date-stamped, serving as a fascinating audio snapshot of a bygone era in sound generation and recording technology.

This was a time before the widespread use of synthesisers and computers, but at a time where there was a lot of enthusiasm and ambition for electronic music. I can’t help thinking that it’s just a little bit too easy to make electronic music today. It is impossible to imagine anyone except the bravest / maddest of souls dedicating a year of their lives laboriously fiddling about with tapes when they could just use their laptop to embark on a sonic adventure.

Given just how mind-bending this early electronic music is compared to a lot of today’s identikit techno, I can’t help but wonder if advances in technology have restricted musicians as much as liberated them.

If you are remotely interested in electronic music, I would recommend this almost as a must-buy. Not only is the music amazing, but it is also a real insight into the painstaking approaches of electronic musicians of the past (the sleeve notes are brilliantly educational in this regard). It really is true to say that they don’t make them like they used to.