Log #115 - Vital Music For The Human Condition At The Dawn Of The New Millennium

Some new procurements this week with a Suede charity bin pick up, the debut album from German electronic duo Mouse On Mars, and a deep dive into minimalism with New York composer William Basinski. Radiohead's excellent follow up to Ok Computer retains an entry as does Ricochet from Tangerine Dream. The ever reliable Holger Czukay from Can makes a return with his very down tempo Moving Pictures album.

Mouse On Mars - Vulvaland

Radiohead - Kid A

Holger Czukay - Moving Pictures

Suede - Coming Up

Tangerine Dream - Ricochet

William Basinski - The Disintegration Loops III

I've been very impressed with the post Ok Computer offerings from Radiohead. Both Kid A and Amnesiac were pleasant surprises, taking the band far beyond what I expected after that album. Straight from the off with the gorgeous organ introduction to Everything In Its Right Place you realise Kid A is, again, going to be something new. This is quite an achievement for a band that could so easily have rested on its laurels after the critical success of the previous album. In fact many "best of" lists rank Kid A above "Ok" as the top Radiohead album.

Throughout the record Radiohead mine new ground, from the Tangerine Dream/Kraftwerk like electronics on the opener, through Efterklang glitches and crackles, Daft Punk vocal distortions, and bubbling percussion on the gem of the title track which packs a huge amount into its 4:44 running time. National Anthem has an insistent distorted bass and goes all out jazz fusion. The fourth track How To Disappear Completely recalls the more usual miserabilist Thom Yorke singing and unremarkable acoustic strumming but there are lush strings in support. The ambient instrumental Treefingers is a super little track, up there with the best Aphex Twin and Brian Eno compositions (sorry Thom, sometimes the band don't need you). Optimistic and In Limbo are again a bit more standard Radiohead but I love Idioteque with it's Aphex Twin like backing percussion. Morning Bell is probably my favourite track - seeming to perfectly mesh the old rock and new electronic Radiohead.

I was also very impressed with the Mouse On Mars album. It is a bit more ambient and down tempo than Autoditacker which featured in Log #109. I was amazed to discover the record was released in 1994 - it sounds so contemporary.

The CD that requires most explanation in this selection is William Basinski's haunting 9/11 elegy Disintegration Loops.

One of the most pre-eminent American artistic statements of the 21st Century.

To indicate the power of such music consider that I had three other people in the room while playing this album. One said they liked it, the other two asked me to turn it off - one because they simply found the music distressing, and one, who initially managed the music ok, became distressed after I told them the story behind it's conception. 

For a piece of music, or any piece of art actually, to have such a profound effect on people (positive or negative) I think is impressive. In fact maybe it is (or should be) the point. The only other piece of music I recall having such a strong physical effect on listeners was 6 Pianos by Steve Reich.

The most important minimal compositions of the past decade.

The effect is however surprising. Not least as it is ambient music and very very ambient music at that. It is so background it would have seemed almost inaudible to a casual listener.  Except it wasn't!

I got a bunch of tape decks and tape, some scotch tape and scissors and started fooling around and recording everything and mixing and playing around.

The loops are literally loops (very short ones). The music repeats every couple of bars creating a hypnotic effect. On each cycle the music literally deteriorates ever so slightly (as Basinski's source tapes gradually disintegrated on playback) eventually leaving only fragments and flickers of the original buried beneath distorted rumbles and echoes which sound like the roll of distant thunder or perhaps even the falling of the Twin Towers themselves - solid at first, before cracks form and spread, eventually leading to an accelerated tumble into dust and rubble, and then finally nothing... blackness, death, silence, peace.

Basinski grapples with his tapes

It is interesting how you listen to these pieces. Your expectant and conditioned mind inevitably fills in the gaps as the actual music falls away. Something similar occurs when you read a passage where olny teh frsit adn lsat ltetres of ecah wrod are in teh rhigt oedrr. Experiments have shown that our sight can be unreliable with our mind making up images that are expected but aren't actually there. 

Stunning. This is vital music for the human condition.

But what is the effect? Is it sickness, or depression, or boredom, inquisitiveness, or horror or indifference? I doubt the latter would be the case for most listeners. This type of hypnotic music generally does something to your consciousness reaching parts of your brain usually left untouched and this piece particularly packs a powerful emotional punch. It's hard to remain neutral. Is a negative effect more valid than no effect at all? Is this piece of music the equivalent of a giant black canvas by Rothko? 

Is it any good? How do you define good? And does it matter? Is it a massive con? Or is the effect the important thing? Does the music stand up alone or is the back story essential? I have to admit once I knew the context it became very hard to extract the music from it's surroundings. The two are inextricably entwined and whether by chance or design the music is a startlingly vivid soundtrack to a momentous historical event.

I would argue that it is the personal effect a piece has on you that is important, above any cold technical analysis, and that's why the sticker on the cover of the CD has the above quotes [or is that part of the conspiracy? Ed].

The cover shots were taken on the evening of 9/11

Some other initial thoughts: This CD (part 3 containing Loops 4 and 5) is one of a series of 5 albums (over 6 hours of music). But I don't think I need to hear any of the others, not any time soon anyway. I'm not sure I will play this one that often to be honest - maybe just when I'm in the mood - I figure it could be useful when drifting off to sleep or when unable to sleep (if it doesn't give me nightmares - perhaps it wouldn't be wise to listen to this in the dark). Actually I didn't play it all that soon after purchasing it as I felt I knew what it sounded like already having sampled a couple of clips.

Interesting isn't it...?

After the events of 9/11, everything changed. The whole world changed. The context of Disintegration Loops changed. And I felt, with my experience being in New York at the time, and what I went through and what I saw my friends go through, I wanted to create an elegy.

As for the subject matter I would prefer to think of it as a homage in honour to all those who lost their lives or were affected by the terrible events of 9/11 but I can understand those (including one of my fellow listeners above) who consider it an unnecessary and macabre reminder or even an opportunistic or unethical endeavour? Personally I think it is a valid and important document which arose by genuine chance and random timing without contrivance or manipulation. For many that may find the work distressing there will also be others who find it comforting and cathartic.

Finally it has just occurred to me that The Disintegration Loops has some parallels with Kid A - the Radiohead album was released a year before 9/11 and it's songs of disconnection and alienation could equally be considered vital music for the human condition at the dawn of the new millennium.