Electronic music seems increasingly pushed aside by the mainstream media, most apparent in advertising. The music that used to be the staple of advertising campaigns, now shunned in favour of white boys with guitars or the bearded Americana of new age hippiedom. It’s a double edged sword, the music is not cheapened by association, the true underground stuff was always grouped in with commercial dance, but on the other hand the guitar is a pre-requisite for getting your voice heard.
Whilst it is unlikely that Seed Records were attempting to right this wrong with this compilation, it is a testament to the quality of the music on show here that it still sounds so fresh. A reminder perhaps that there are still things to be said regardless of what musical language it is spoken in.
There is something captivating from the outset, beginning with Zombi’s ‘Sessuale’ – an architecture of ice and chrome, it’s cool and sensual and sets a tone for the rest of the album to add layers to. And if ‘sessuale’ was the chrome of the future, Mokira’s ‘seven ply’ that follows it buzzs and hums in acetone grime, pulsing in that threatening to attack way, it prowls along, shifting the narrative from the clean suburban to the clatter of urban.
It is both deeply personal and intensely cinematic, a soundtrack to the plant that exists only in your head. By the time we get to “Vlob” by Skirtanja this planet has taken on evil angles. A chorus of the discontent and ill advised collides over feedback and twisted brass to create an uneasy feeling of falling.
It’s a collection which encourages repeat listens, each cultured and crafted track yielding a little more each time, and listened to in succession tells a dozen different stories.
And I didn’t even get to the Neil Landstrumm track which hides its cruel cruel heart under a beat you could skate a car over.
A true eyeopener.