subjectively,

The immense contrast between reality and your mind.

Throughout the 90s, Simon Reynolds theorized how electronic dance music in the UK could be mapped as a single evolving entity he named the "Hardcore Continuum", from Hardcore (or as he spelled it, Ardkore), to Jungle to Drum & Bass to UK Garage and beyond. This was developed through multiple articles written for British magazine The Wire and concerned primarily the world of for-the-club, functional EDM. Yet, even the more experimental sides of the electronic music spectrum felt the influence of the spectrum, Aphex Twin being one such example.

For someone described as subversive and eccentric, if one were to see his music career in the context of the electronic music world, it makes sense, all of his albums nicely fit into the direction electronic music was heading. Both Selected Ambient Works, for instance, fit nicely with the wider trend of ambient techno which developed into actual ambient music. And as Drum & Bass developed from Jungle which developed from Breakbeat, slowly morphing in its structure and developing their own bubble in which to grow and foster sub-genres, it is also clear to see how Richard D. James was influenced by these developments. Whilst even his debut album, Selected Ambient Works 85-92 featured sampled drum breaks, opener 'Xtal' features the Apache break, for instance, these had a function that mirrored their use in Breakbeat, as a new taste for backing drums, a short slice being looped constantly in the background. The first real departure came with 1995's Hangable Auto Bulb, the record being influenced by his friend Luke Vibert, whose releases under Plug provided a higher BPM taste of Drum & Bass, which would eventually go on to be known as Drill n' Bass. With Hangable Auto Bulb being Aphex's entry into the short-lived genre, and given his immense talent, was also one of its better releases.

Therefore, the record's largest difference in regards to Aphex Twin's previous offerings, is this new influence, as the needle moved from the likes of Hardcore Techno towards Drum & Bass, song structures feature more nuance instead of building upon loops and growing in a linear fashion. 'Girl/Boy Song', for instance transitions between different bubbles and ideas in a single track, much like a piece of classical music, continually transitioning instead of simply building up. Too, the ideas present are executed more earnestly, wherein …I Care Because You Do ideas such as orchestral elements would be hidden under standard electronic music elements like synths, drum machine loops, and interesting pieces of sound design, working as secondary elements that provide novelty.

In terms of the obvious difference, that being the usage of drum breaks instead of synthesized drum sounds and drum machine loops, it differentiates itself from RDJ's peers, many of whom limited themselves to looping their sliced breaks and only providing variations a few times per track, by being not only more extreme than most of his peers, being faster and more abrasive, but also by making variation the only constant in his drum programming. Here RDJ isn't afraid to experiment and use his music theory knowledge to craft interesting compositions to base his tracks around, such as the strings in '4' which are backed by synth lines, the lyrics and nursery rhyme-esque elements of 'Milk Man', which ultimately provide far more depth to his tracks than anything he had previously done, perhaps excluding Selected Ambient Works Vol. II.

When listening to the record, though, one of the most striking things is the immense contrast between the drums and their backing, the delicate compositions of tracks such as 'Milk Man', 'Girl/Boy Song', or 'To Cure a Weakling Child' are overrun by a barrage of drums, the metallic sounds of hi-hats and cymbals skittering and stuttering whilst the compressed elements of sampled drum breaks provide some idea of structure. The delicate backings, made of string instruments, plucky synthesizer sounds, appearing to work somewhat like a romanticized idea present in one's mind, of happiness, of childhood nostalgia, whilst the drums instead work as the contrasting harsh reality that one must confront.

As electronic music continued to become more complex, it is interesting to see how different artists tackled this transition; Autechre delved into generative music and complex sample-based sound design, Squarepusher interested himself with using his jazz influences to drive Drum & Bass forward, Drexciya provided depth to Detroit Techno, Aphex Twin used the computer to compose ever more complex and shifting tracks, a computer-centred method which would peak with 2001's Drukqs and which would go on to influence a new generation of producers as the IDM genre began to coalesce into fast drum breaks with a lush backing, with Richard D. James Album being the founding document of this. Though, despite the fact that it was new-wave IDM's founding document, this contrast that the genre depended upon was perhaps perfected here.

That time period, about a decade or so ago, when the compact digital market was on the verge of collapse, sitting opposite to a wave of ever-more-affordable DSLRs, both new and used, remains fresh in my mind still. It is not too long ago that the compact camera owner was looked down severely in the camera world, their status in the hierarchy of photographers being even lower than hobbyist, marked as a "non-photographer", whose requirements are simply to document the events of their life, not with any artistic intentions, being entirely practical, and in a sense, entirely pure. These were not people who knew how to compose an image, not even close to acquiring cognizance of the rule of thirds, in the profoundly materialistic world of the photography community, this was the lowest of the low.

Yet, if anything has continued to grow for the last decade despite a constant economic downturn, it is consumption, particularly a unique culture of consumption, not for absolute interest, but to seen by third parties as a particularly intelligent figure, with the great rise of the pseudo-intellectual, of the performative (fe)male, before named the "poser", it has grown to a level that being such a person is no longer widely frowned upon. There has been a wide push for people to know more things, yet as we live in capitalism, this cannot simply be done by doing art, watching films, reading books, with whatever means one has, the manner in which one does it, commonly the device one uses in this case, has to be unique. Therefore, despite the fact that one can become more artistic, knowledgeable and "media literate" person essentially for free, one must acquire and consume. Naturally, I am not immune to the great wave of nostalgia that advances in technology have brought upon us, I spent years obsessing over old iPods and mediocre MP3 players from the 2000s, though I did it years ago, and was primarily because they were interesting little pieces of tech that were fun to play with.

The fact that the digital compact camera, the point-and-shoot, the lowest common denominator for "camera" that isn't the lens stuck onto the back of your phone, that this has become a trendy object, one to hunt on eBay and the modern equivalent of the local classifieds, is fascinating in so many ways. As an object commonly linked to the clueless tourist, at no point were these considered in any particular manner as creators of art (I will ignore the number of great photographers who used them, both when they were new, and now, for argument's sake), nor that they had any particularly good image quality, yet these cameras have lived a strange second life where things like their CCD (and also, early CMOS) sensors are lauded for providing "filmic" colors and dynamic range.

This has ultimately formed a Pokedex-esque community around listing and documenting specific cameras that have particular characteristics, and having people hunt them down in the used market and also to sell them at absurd markups for what are otherwise incredibly mediocre compact cameras.

As I've matured, I've slowly realized that this search of legitimacy really only leads to the opposite, the first person who decided to use an old compact camera instead of their smartphone probably did it because they had it lying around, because it seemed like a cute and fun alternative that extricated them from using their phone and disconnected them, had them feel more free, or whatever. This has mutated into people doing it because it goes beyond cool, it is "legitimate", "authentic", "human", and as the game of culture broken telephone has gone, the digicam has become a symbol of that, causing people to collect with the purpose of appearing legitimate just like how people collected whatever new product Supreme released for social status.

Like all of these nostalgia-led trends, the digicam not only has become an entirely separate entity to what these things originally were, but has also simply become another thing to spend money on to appear cool. Whilst this has been happening for essentially all of humanity, this case in particular is unique in the way that they are not only entirely separate from their original source, them being simple, commonly pragmatic, consumer products, now being "cool" objects, but has also made a new lore by retroactively assigning this value of "coolness" to its original users and also anecdotes of the use of these cameras. In a strange case of fantasizing the past that, in a sense, goes far beyond nostalgia, specially given that most of the people who this trend has pandered to, that being Gen Z and the oldest of Gen Alpha, never even lived through this period, or at least lived through it in a sufficiently conscious manner to actually remember it.

My favourite album

About a year and a half ago, my review of Gustavo Cerati's Bocanada got me featured on RYM's homepage for the first time, a review which is probably the apex of my early review writing, wherein I was most pure in terms of my holistic, emotions-first, not-too-sociological way of reviewing records, when I was surprisingly succinct in terms of being able to summarize a record in about a paragraph or two. Back then, it was simply an immensely surprising record, a revelation if you will, beyond the great tracks themselves, the thought that the frontman of a hard-rock group like Soda Stereo, whilst notably sophisticated and experimental in its own right, would craft such an immensely sophisticated, deeply intimate record was not only incredible, but immensely intoxicating.

I grew up around the likes of Soda Stereo thanks to the wide music taste of my dad, I had been quite familiar with the likes of "De Musica Ligera", or "Persiana Americana", or "En La Ciudad de la Furia" or any of their international hits, of which their discography is primarily comprised of. My image of the group, and consequently of its frontman was very much set in this pop-rock, new-wave, 80's, somewhat cheesy kind of music, as aforementioned, Soda Stereo were noted for being fairly sophisticated, especially compared to their peers. Of course though, coming into Bocanada, I didn't really know this yet, I hadn't yet learned much about the story of Soda Stereo and hadn't really yet known about records such as Sueño Stereo or Dynamo which would have at least mentally prepared me and given me a background of the direction Gustavo Cerati was heading towards coming into the new millennium.

Much has been written about Soda Stereo and Cerati, particularly in Spanish-speaking spaces, Soda Stereo had always been influenced by the goings of British music, if anything their records do track a fairly nice timeline of the direction pop-ish British Music was going through the 80's and 90's, from the world of Ska, New-Wave, into Hard-Rock and ultimately into Shoegaze and Electronica, and Bocanada continues this tradition, whilst the late 90's were dominated by the world of Britpop, it would be hard to disregard the immense influence that rave culture had on the British music world. The progenitors of Britpop, the Madchester scene, were immensely influenced by this, and coming into the turn of the millennium, the world of trip-hop, downtempo, electronica had seen their popularity ebb and flow, but continue to impart their influence into the pop world. 1999 had seen such releases as Moby's Play, Madonna's Ray of Light, Blur's 13, records that were ostentatiously influenced by the new wave of sampler-based, non-dance electronic music arriving into the radar of pop music.

This saw another new wave of sort-of genre-bending music arrive into the pop world, unlike groups such as New Order who eventually ended up making actual dance music, this music was somewhat more sophisticated, complex in its influences and harder to neatly encapsule in a single box. Coming back into Cerati, Bocanada epitomizes this perfectly. 'Puente' is essentially alt-rock, 'Bocanada' trip-hop, 'Y si el humo está en foco…' is 90's ambient techno, 'Verbo carne' is downtempo, closer 'Balsa' is ambient dub, but these tracks too don't perfectly fit into each box, they are all influenced by each-other's influences, and can too be pointed towards other genres, its granular elements revealing further influences. These influences, too, particularly in the resulting samples that are scattered throughout the record, present in this new context of LATAM pop, are incredible in the sense they lose their original context and live an entirely new life in this record. For a mainstream audience largely unfamiliar with the obscure psych-rock and electronic records Cerati was influenced by and was sampling, these samples were an experiential simulacrum, a copy without an original. The source was entirely unknown to the average listener, therefore, the sample became something entirely new, unique to Cerati's tracks. Whilst 1999 was already well into our modern, interconnected society, it is easy to disregard that the world of LATAM music was still isolated and lived in its own dimension, while the alternative scene in Argentina was immensely creative and tapped into the global music world, and one could have already seen the influences of Cerati via MTV, it is far more likely that a number of the listeners of Soda Stereo hadn't even been exposed to this new world of music, the pop scene was very much isolated, and whilst Cerati had already made things like minimal techno with Ocio's Medida Universal, Bocanada was to be his first major release since Soda Stereo disbanded, it was to be released onto major label BMG and had significant marketing put behind it. This musical isolation meant that listeners were likely coming into Bocanada with a pure view, and saw Cerati's new musical taste entirely removed from its influences.

In holistic terms, Bocanada is an intimate, dark, deeply atmospheric record, all of the tracks collaborate to create a nocturnal atmosphere to the record, it guides the listener towards appreciating the intimate, granular details present in the record, particularly in its slower, instrumental interludes, notably in the middle part of the record. It is immensely effective in enveloping one into the record, and transmits all the emotions Cerati wished to express in the record, directly towards one. The innocent average LATAM pop listener in the late 90's, incognizant of the influences of the record, if anything, listened to the record and absorbed it in its purest emotional form, and perhaps, with how much effort the record spends attempting to transmit its emotions as effectively as possible, this innocent listening experience, may have been the ideal one.

Cerati spent much of his career making tracks about love, and in part also the state of society, particularly Argentinian society in the midst of societal change and turmoil, in Bocanada, these themes remain, they are not only far more ingrained within the sonic atmosphere of the record, but also take on a new form, being far more abstract and metaphysical. The lyrics work throughout images and the associations, particularly emotional ones, that they make to the listener, they are led by raw emotions which are consequently immediately transmitted to the listener. Emotions such as (erotic) desire, and solitude and disconnection, permeate throughout most of the tracks commonly as fleeting images, describing the moment as it happens. There is a far deeper interest in things like the body, not so much as simple conduits for pleasure, but as a site where meaning is generated, most obviously expressed in 'Verbo Carne', this sitting alongside a more philosophical view of erotic desire, such as in 'Tabú', wherein the desire is generated by the fact it is socially taboo, prohibition creating its intensity and its value. Present, too, are themes of dreaming and altered consciousness, the title, Bocanada, not only describes the fact that the record is a breath of fresh air compared to the backdrop of Soda Stereo, but the fleeting inhalation of something which alters your perception. 'Engaña', is particularly philosophical in the manner in which it questions our own perception, and our susceptibility to being deceived by ourselves, particularly by things such as emotions. Underneath this sensuality and desire, of course, lies solitude and the failure of communication, tracks such as 'Bocanada', and 'Perdonar es divino' describe this most clearly, the former talking about the disconnection in a relationship eventually causing its fracture, the latter continues to describe this lack of communication, but instead in an attempt to remediate these problems instead of continuing to foster this distance and attempting to forgive each other's mistakes. In contrast to Soda Stereo though, the record's lyrics are far more intimate, these are not to be screamed to an arena, instead they are to be spoken to a listener's ears.

As aforementioned, Bocanada is nocturnal and intimate, and consequently, profoundly detailed in its sounds. The depth of sounds and genres tackled provides an eclectic listening experience, but the creativity with which these are performed is also notable; there is a certain Latin music sensibility to the way these "foreign" music genres are handled. Whilst the obvious elements, such as traditional instruments and little vocal quips, are scattered throughout various tracks in the record, there is a fundamental philosophical difference to the original influences, rhythms present have a distinct Latin flair akin to the syncopated rhythms of traditional music and its pop derivatives, with tracks that are uniquely melodic in their composition. In terms of the composition, whilst the world of New Wave was led by the idea of applying synths to rock music, here it seems to be the opposite; whilst structures are very much pop-based, the sonic aspects focus on applying vocals to commonly instrumental genres, as evidenced by tracks like 'Beautiful' and 'Bocanada'. A particularly impressive feat is the manner in which this depth of sound remains cohesive in its image. Despite the wide range of influences, these tracks never venture too far into their own dimension; they are commonly led by atmospheric background elements; short samples, synth pads ranging from the airy to the aquatic, quiet guitars guiding the track, all which collaborate and provide immense texture to each track. Too, each track remains intimate without feeling cramped. There is a notable amount of space present in the mix, never does a single element dominate, its loudest moments being periods when these elements coalesce into a climax. Take 'Verbo carne': the immense orchestral elements, akin to Portishead's Roseland NYC concert, provide an epic atmosphere backed by a constant trip-hop beat. It eloquently transmits the emotions the metaphysical, abstract lyrics describe without requiring one analyse them too closely, and despite the literally massive orchestra behind Cerati, the track does not fail to remain intimate, it simply augments the impact of Cerati's words.

The emotions which this record provides, are the product of a beautiful symbiosis of both the lyrical and sonic contents contemporaneously, while this may seem obvious, the emotions that a track provides are commonly only provided by one of the two, which leads the way whilst the other plays a secondary role in simply accompanying this. Here, instead, both elements work together. Opener 'Tabú', its choruses slowly build towards these invigorating climaxes wherein the background elements of the track grow alongside the lyrics and provide this exhilarating feeling. Exhilarating can also describe 'Puente', wherein its elements drowning in delay effects build the distorted guitar chorus which appears as a fleeting moment contrasting the otherwise particularly intimate and nocturnal atmosphere of the track. More cheerful tracks, such as 'Paseo inmoral', have Cerati's vocal performance perfectly cooperate with the more progressive instrumentation, led by a constant drum pattern. But in the majority of tracks, wherein one can describe them primarily as intimate, previous statements apply, atmosphere is backed by lowkey, unforced vocals by Cerati, some of the most articulate and detailed performances of his career.

One of the most common sentiments I find reading reviews of records is the strange elitism against pop records. Perhaps this may be a product of my general interest in more experimental music skewing the sort of people I encounter talking about music, but it is not hard to find people who berate records for featuring simple lyrics, song structures, composition, instrument playing, etc. Who center their criticism on the simplicity and alleged consequential triteness of these elements, which I think is misguided.

Admittedly, it is a very easy element to criticize, as subjective as art can be, music is one of those types of art that is backed by a long history of snobby elitism and is propped up by a lot of theory whose application can provide a piece of music agreeable to most people (and whose principles have been instilled by default in the mind of human beings) and for which its complexity can be quantified with relative ease. This leads to 'objective' criticism being a common avenue, naturally this has its merits; well-made, knowledgeable analysis of musical pieces is a particularly interesting form of literature, especially if one is interested in music production and composition, case in point: me. Though this has devolved with time, talking analytically about music is hard and requires actually knowing music theory, leading to much criticism of music being based on the concept of 'simple = bad', critics fancying themselves too sophisticated for such things as the C major chord and the ABABCB song structure, blind to the actual song itself, this deconstructed into emotionless elements to assess as if it were schoolwork.

Music, despite its very academic elements, is, as most art, ultimately a vessel for emotions, therefore to exclusively consider and evaluate music in its objective elements is misguided and severely limits one's perspective. I believe it is far more valuable to consider music in terms of both the emotions that it presents and the ones that it transmits to the eventual listener, not only given the fact that this will provide more unique perspectives on a given work, but also because the emotions that a record provides relate better to its 'value' than the quality or inventiveness of its objective elements.

Take for example: the pop song, rarely are pop songs particularly interesting compositionally, despite this they are immensely popular and liked by a large part of the population, otherwise they wouldn't be popular. Therefore one can assume that most of the listeners who like this music are guided by emotions, its value to these is linked and likely entirely based on the emotions that these tracks provide, a large part of the population has little to no knowledge of music theory, and therefore puts little interest on the pure compositional part of a track. A catchy melody and chorus is sufficient in these cases, as can be evidenced by most pop music.

One can, though, argue that perceived simplicity of a given work can sour the emotions provided by a record, which is correct, but is ultimately somewhat of an elitist point of view, and is a shortsighted way to look at music, the greatness of a piece of music isn't entirely relative to however unique its compositional elements are, whilst the quality of these elements is a factor to consider, this view gives an immense amount of weight to the raw compositional elements of a piece of music, it deconstructs something that should otherwise be rated and analyzed in a holistic manner. Other elements could instead sour the emotions presented by a record; this being a lack of emotions, presented, failure at presenting succinctly one's points, a sense of 'illegitimacy', feeling of commercialism, whatever. Focusing on pure simplicity deprives one of eventually knowing what truly is one's problem with a record.

Take Oasis, I like Oasis, quite a lot. Yet their music has never been particularly complex, either compositionally or lyrically, but I think their pure impact is down to the absolute mastery of these songs to transmit emotions and to encapsulate the culture of Britain, particularly under a working-class lens. The effectiveness of the guitar riffs amplifies this, they are very simple, yet equally impactful. One can point to the simple metaphorical manner which 'Live Forever' expresses a desire for chasing dreams, backed by a simple three chord progression, as proof of this evocative simplicity, or alternatively, the changing landscape of post-Thatcher Britain and the overcoming of working class nihilism that is succinctly expressed in 'Cigarettes & Alcohol'. I've read a lot of criticism about Britpop that focused on criticizing the perceived lack of musical skill of a lot of the bands which made up the movement, ignoring the fact that they didn't really need it, the sheer poignancy of the stories told and the relatability of them was sufficient, they were simply effective songs which focused on transmitting the emotions that a lot of the British populace already felt, eventually uniting them.

The dumb pop song may be dumb, but there's a reason why it is popular, and I wish more people would focus on thinking as to why it is, why people like it, why it is so effective, rather than simply equating this to be caused by the lack of culture of the unwashed masses.

I am in hell, therefore I must repent.

Since the release of Geogaddi, Boards of Canada have stood inbetween two extremes, for however much their music may be calling to the past, in an attempt to impart nostalgia into the listener, this music is still very much rooted in the present; influenced by religion and world events, expressed via a lens that evokes reminiscence. It's been 13 years since the release of Tomorrow's Harvest, the secluded, eerie, melancholic and grim record that seemed to warn about climate change and the inevitable collapse human activity would result in, something particularly poignant for the year 2013.

Today's society, instead, seems to be far more engaged in the political dealings of our world, as right-wing parties appear earnest and blatant in their methods to thwart any sort of progressive ideals and identity, legislation no longer attempts to hide behind a mask, it is all-out assault. And in a similar sense, this album is far more earnest in the manner it tries to get its point across, it's dark, aggressive, and more direct. Whilst Tomorrow's Harvest attempted to get its point across via hypnotizing atmospheres and minimal instrumentation, here the instrumentation hits a peak unseen since the guitar-infused tracks and live instrumentation of The Campfire Headphase, the duo pulling out all the stops, and all their techniques throughout the 18 tracks of the record. Harder bass lines, louder and fuller layering of instruments, and a sort of '80s indie influence in the more guitar-led tracks.

The darkness present in the record is one that the record's title, Inferno, mirrors brilliantly, having read the poem, the atmosphere that is transmitted throughout the 33 cantos is one of the things that hits you first, the gruesome detail of the punishment of sins continues to bounce around my mind, and here, I can feel some of that energy present, particularly in tracks like 'Prophecy at 1420MHz', the atmosphere present being amongst the finest the duo have ever created, and the density of sound being akin to the first few circles of hell. 'Father and Son', with its very clear vocal samples sandwiched between with mangled ones, somewhat akin to Dante's own descriptions of hell. Of course, though, it is not only darkness present, Boards of Canada have always liked ambient, atmospheric music to provide respite in their records, and Inferno provides some fine examples, particularly the three closing tracks, which provide more bittersweet, even somewhat mournful emotions, perhaps somewhat like arriving at Purgatory and then Paradise, really.

Wherein previous Boards of Canada records would attempt to blur the meaning of their religious influence, here they are far more obvious, this works to some extent, as the emotions that this provide are easily accessible and more direct. Though, on the other hand, perhaps this earnestness hurt the record to some extent, there is a certain lack of intrigue that the elements of this record provide, the vocal samples obviously state their provenance and role, there isn't anything entirely new that this record provides to the style of Boards of Canada, even drifting towards the feeling of this being a pastiche of their own sound, with their more aggressive sounds, particularly in the drum department, even feeling like obvious choices that fail to surprise or captivate, it is a very rhythmic record, but the individual sounds of these rhythms, are less effective, drifting towards the generic tastes of synthwave, such as in 'Hydrogen Helium Lithium Leviathan'.

If Tomorrow's Harvest warned of the future hell that we are approaching, Inferno describes the one we're in, and tells us to repent.