Thursday, September 30, 2010

Burning Man goggles and transition lenses


 It probably shouldn’t really come as a surprise that, at the end of the decade (or the beginning, depending on how much you adhere to calendar law), we’re in a phase of hyper musical transition. Previous decade-turns have shown it’s the way things go; that there’s often a period of some years in which ‘artists’ search for what is most relevant to the ‘new time’, as if ‘the world’ is ready to tuck the old decade’s ideas tightly into the sheets and sneak out the door in the hope/expectation of finding something new. This observation may be based on coincidence or gross generalisation, of course, but there’s been something to the long, decade-turning transitions from tiring new wave pop to R&B and hardcore to grunge, or pop punk to ‘retro rock’ and group-pop to rap-pop, that suggests it’s a concept worth exploring. Particularly as, at this point in 2010, there’s an overwhelming sense that both ‘popular’ and ‘underground’ musics have retracted into some sort of cultural cocoon, and that those who are releasing albums are either standing alone, are drawing on flash-in-the-pan ideas or, in the case of many ‘established’ acts, are just failing to connect with listeners.

In pop, there’s no doubt that Kanye West’s performance of his new song Runaway at the MTV Video Music Awards (pictured above) earlier this month was a precursor to a major shift; a hard left away from the drawn-out flogging of AutoTune (long after it was declared ‘dead’ by West himself, then everyone else) and the slew of not-much hits by rappers and singers hastily incorporating ideas and guests from other genres (B.o.B featuring Hayley Williams of Paramore; Bruno Mars riding on ‘ethereal’ indie dance synth sounds) towards, perhaps, a back-to-basics (back to ‘real’ talent?) approach. It wouldn’t be the first time West has directed a change in this kind of ‘chart music’ and, in fact, despite his public fumblings, he’s showing himself to be one of few with ongoing influence.
Another is My Chemical Romance, whose last aesthetic switch from the afterlife-military imagery of The Black Parade to Brit-punk-leaning apocalyptic rock, albeit brief and with no full album attached, marked a huge shift in the kind of rock culture they ‘exist’ in. (Just take a look outside.) An online video teaser of their fourth album, Danger Days: The True Lives Of The Fabulous Killjoys (out next week through Warner; still from the video above), suggests an altered angle on that; an updating of 1990s apocalypse and industrial styles, complete with Burning Man goggles. And yet, this idea, too, may not take in a way that impacts the zeitgeist significantly. (On this: this ‘overlording musical shift’ talk is problematic, I understand, and for many also not particularly appealing, but there’s much to suggest we’re still, as a whole, enduring mass western cultural waves – hell, maybe more than ever – so I’m going to push on without many apologies.)

Perhaps one of the biggest signs of transition is the state of the ‘dance’ genres, undergoing, all at once, a massive appropriation into pop (particularly in the US, where ‘dance’ has long been held back from ‘mainstream’ audiences), a retraction of ‘midlevel’ sounds in order to experiment and undergo some sort of metamorphosis, and a wide welcoming (again) into band culture to the point where the term ‘crossover’ is no longer even relevant. While much can be said of the kind of colourful eclecticism turned out by, for instance, the Animal Collective associate Prince Rama (whose Shadow Temple has just been released through Mistletone) or LA orch-dance woman Glasser (whose Ring is out through Remote Control; pictured above), there’s a sense that these washy, droning, largely anonymous sounds are a footnote to ‘psychedelic’ movements already explored (most notably by Animal Collective themselves) and whatever will be next. The number of little-known acts cluttering up the upcoming festival bills, amongst bigger names with small recent success such as Kelis, Kele Okereke and Groove Armada, go some way in showing just where we’re at this year.

None of this goes any way in addressing how the change in the ‘industry’ side of things is affecting how transitions take place, of course. In one part of the half-hour online promotional video for Belle & Sebastian’s new album, Write About Love (out next Friday through Remote Control), Stuart Murdoch conducts a genuine self-help session made up of members of various UK ‘indie’ bands discussing the place of musicians post major labels and in relation to new technologies. Transitional therapy. Sounds glorious.    
    

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