The Best Electronic Music Ever

So much bleep bloop, in fact, that my eyes turned blue.

     Now, that title might seem like an overly conceited boast; who am I to determine the greatest electronic records of all time? I wasn't even around in the late '60s and '70s, when synth music exploded in popularity, yielding such artists as Jean-Michel Jarre and Kraftwerk. Nor was I a citizen of the '80s, where synth-pop reigned supreme, and bands like Depeche Mode, The Cure, Tears for Fears, and pretty much every single pop outfit were choosing circuits over strings (which is a bad analogy, but hey). Man, I wasn't even around for most of the '90s, when everything that influences electronic dance music today took root, along with some of the most important alternative music to date.

     Well, the reason why I feel inclined to write an article about some really great electronic albums is that a large part of the conversations I have that turn to music and then to electronic music often have the same outcome: "oh no, I don't like techno."

     For the love of all that is holy, that's like being asked whether you like the blanket term of rock, and replying, "no, I don't like it when singers scream and worship the darker powers." Okay, that's fine if you don't take to a certain facet of a genre, but don't pigeon-hole every rock act in existence into that facet. The same goes for electronic music, a huge genre that began as early as the late 19th century with Thaddeus Cahill's Telharmonium and then later with instruments such as the Theremin and the Audion Piano. Consider that for a moment: electronic music is one of the oldest continually existing sub-genres of Western music - the classical conventions of occidental music are hardly 500 years old, if even that, and their instrumentation has remained generally the same over these centuries. The first electric guitar was plugged in in 1931, over thirty years after the Telharmonium's creation. In other words, electronic music as a whole is really old in comparison to the rest of the stuff we listen to and make. So if you've never even remotely considered electronic music, maybe its time-borne wisdom will turn you over.

     That being said, I am no expert in the history of electronic music, and so the following selection embodies very little of the potential records that I could have included, considering that I haven't heard the majority of them. I know what I like in my music, however, and for the most part these albums embody those ideals: strong melodies and composition that constantly reveals something new in itself. It's also important to remember that electronic music has a reputation for not aging particularly well; an orchestra always sounds like an orchestra, but synths and the fashions relating to them have been changing at break-neck speeds since day one - these albums, especially the older ones, have the distinct quality of aging well. In no particular order then.

Oxygéne

Jean-Michel Jarre

1976, France

     Widely considered a classic of synth music throughout the world, Jarre's first true artist album is credited with sparking the synthesizer revolution of the 1970s. Recorded on an 8-track recorder in his kitchen, it became an instant best-seller with its warm and bubbly sound, bouncing synth lines, and infectious hooks. With a track numbering of I to VI, it listens more as a continuous classical composition than as an album consisting of separate pieces.

Exciter

Depeche Mode

2001, United Kingdom

     I promised myself that I would include only one Depeche Mode record on this list. They are unquestionably my favorite band ever (forever and ever and forever), and though it's tough to choose a favourite album, mine is Exciter. While Depeche Mode have always used analog synthesizers in their music, Exciter is a digression: almost completely digital, with LFO's Mark Bell taking on production duties. However, it still somehow manages to be their warmest album yet. With it's lush arrangements, an unusually high vocal performance for the generally baritone Dave Gahan, and an atmosphere that leaves you refreshed and clean (my brother and I refer to these sorts of records as 'breath-mints', or something), it's the ultimate summer album. 

Végétal

Émilie Simon

2006, France

     Émilie Simon's third studio album sounds like none of her other releases, too poppy to be compared to her earlier releases, and too intricate in comparison to later releases. I personally wish that she would've continued to evolve the sound she had in Végétal, but alas, it was a one-time deal. The greatest strength of this album is unquestionably in the production: the percussion sounds in Swimming come from a bowl of water being slapped (which is mesmerizing to see in live performances), En Cendres is underscored with a beat that consists of something that sounds like a fire crackling, and classical instrumentation intermingles with those sounds and the often Spaghetti-western strums of guitars. Apparently, even the sounds of actual plants were used in the recording. I can't find an article or interview describing how that actually worked, though. 

Apocalypso

The Presets

2008, Australia

     The Australian electropop superstars known as The Presets describe Apocalypso's title as a mix between 'apocalypse' and 'calypso', which sums up this album's sound pretty well: idea-wise, it's dark and brooding, but musically, it's up-tempo, danceable, and pretty damn happy. And if you were to ignore the amazing production, this is an album of music, and some of the best music around. If I Know You and Yippyo-Ay did the 'it sort of sounds like the '80s but not quite' thing way before everyone decided to do it, and that wouldn't be a very big point except for the fact that they did it better than anyone else has been able to do since. Then you have songs like My People, which is probably one of the coolest dance tracks ever. And when I was younger I played Talk Like That over and over and over and over again, and I'm still not sick of it. That's a sign that you have a timeless album on your hands: I added up Apocalypso's listen count in my iTunes and then compensated for iPod listens, and it comes out to well over 3000 unique listens over the years. That's intense, and it doesn't feel like I've listened to it nearly that much. That said, I have a thing for killing records, but the ones on this list have all survived my torment.


Felt Mountain
Goldfrapp
2000, United Kingdom

      Duo Goldfrapp's debut album is one of those records that you can imagine putting on in a wood-panelled lounge and then downing several very expensive and unmanly alcoholic beverages to what is a damn sexy piece of work. It sounds like the lovechild of a sixties retrofuturistic space outfit and a children's book writer in which, aside from singing, Goldfrapp's voice coos, la-las, and does other such sensual things over Will Gregory's warm synth design. Far more chilled and subdued than their later work, Felt Mountain is just a little bit too involved to shun into the background, but not so intrusive that you can't talk over it or relax over it or do the sorts of very physical things that Goldfrapp suggests in Deer Stop over it.


Involver
Sasha
2004, United Kingdom

     In a career that has spanned well over two decades, Sasha has continued to be an incredibly influential player in the electronic dance music scene. And though his original compositions retain a unique timelessness (his tracks from the early '90s are among the only pieces of dance music from that era that you can easily put into a mix today), it's his remixes that truly stand out as some of the most innovative work done in the genre. Involver is an album of a wide array of musical material, including tracks by UNKLE, Shpongle, and Ulrich Schnauss, that has been remixed into a distinctive style of progressive house and breaks that is more an after-hours offering than actual dance music. It's perfect for anything from long car rides to dreamtime, with Dorset Perception breaking out into a coastal rainforest of sound that gently eases into a more intimate landscape, and the fast-paced On My Own bringing you back to reality in the most glittery way possible. Involver was followed by 2008's Invol2ver and 2013's Involv3r, the former continuing smoothly in the slightly more polished atmosphere set by the closing tracks of Involver. All of these records are mixed, and so lose their power when not listened through from start to finish. They are musical journeys, and I firmly support the idea of listening to entire albums in an age of shuffled instant gratification.


Kid A
Radiohead
2000, United Kingdom

      Kid A holds a place on my fairly short list of the greatest records of all time (along with some of the other selections on this list) and a place in my heart as one of the first albums I truly listened to. That would partially explain why it is definitely my favourite piece in the Radiohead oeuvre, but listen: this is one of those events in the history of an art form that acts as a marker, a fixed point in time around which culture revolves. There is a "before Kid A" and an "after Kid A" (there is also a "before and after Radiohead's OK Computer", but Kid A just slightly one-ups it for me"). Thom Yorke's unparalleled voice constantly goes from being the clearly heard sound of a frontman to being chopped up and torn apart into a mix of unrecognizable musical genres that can only really be described as transcendental, unsettling, and completely refreshing. While not entirely electronic in its production, Kid A has some of the most unique production work out there. It has to be noted, also, that none of the albums on this list really are completely electronic, save for Jarre's Oxygéne. That doesn't mean they're not electronic.
     Again, this is a roundtrip affair - the majority of the tracks work on their own, but their true strength comes when you listen to Kid A in its entirety.

Picture is unrelated, but that's okay. It's a good picture.

     But for now, ladies and gentlemen, that is all there is to say. I have only scratched the surface of what electronic music has to offer, but I hope that this list helps to serve as a base for extending past the idea that all electronic music is techno. Speaking of which, I almost completely ignored the recently exploding field of electronic dance music; a shame, as some of the most creative experimentation in music today is happening over there. However, considering that EDM is at such a highpoint right now, I don't believe that it's as necessary to bring it up in a post that is looking at electronic music as a whole.
     Anyways, get your hands on these albums and see where they lead you. Magical places, mes amis. Or not. But probably magical places. Not conclusively, though.
     Wait, the results just came in: it is magical places.

     Congratulations,

     Feo.

Rope

Rope

You are young and you dream,

All alone in the dark,

Of a sun in a different land.

Your parents think it’s another trend,

And you’re going to college next year.

But the rope is held taught,

And you’re not getting out

Of this trap that your atlas laid.

You have places to go in the brilliant light

Of many a blue foreign sea.

So while they hunt for

New summer jobs,

You will be packing your bags.

And all alone on an airplane,

Calmly lulled by a rocking train.

Feo.

Between Deltae

Between Deltae

Baby, it’s time for a midnight waltz

By the lakeshore, sand on skin.

Let’s talk; I’m sure that’s no sin.

We’ve been looking too much at faults-

Slow down, you’re dancing wrong.

Here, I’ll lead to a different song.

There, that seems something better.

I remember starting about things

But my mind’s voice cracks when it sings.

Damn, I’m running on like a mother’s letter.

I think I should be quiet now.

I think I’ll keep on dancing now.

Feo.

Brownies: The New Cocaine!

  If you're a longtime reader of the blog, you may remember a post I wrote almost two years ago about brownies that contain enough sedatives to knock a grown man out. Now the popular trend of stuffing unnecessary stuff into brownies continues with A Snack in the Face's "Hyper-Caffeinated Brownies"!
  Because, you know, heart attacks are always in style.
  Seriously though, people are stuffing copious amounts of caffeine just about anywhere they can, including places where they probably shouldn't. Think caffeinated jerky, caffeinated popcorn with 2000 milligrams of the big C8H10N4O2 (just a tiny little bit more than the 400 or so milligrams in your Starbucks venti), and caffeinated bras and underwear, apparently designed to help you lose weight. I bet they're just saying that so they don't have to get get "lickable caffeine lingerie" approved by the FDA.
  And now, you can get caffeinated beer! How does that even work? Think of all the conflicted drunks. But not in California, no sir. It's illegal over there, which is saying a lot.
  But hey, if that's your cup of beer/jerky/brownies/bra, enjoy it by all means. Just remember that your daily allowance is around 500 to 600 milligrams. Which, in other words, means you can only have one Hyper-Caffeinated Brownie (400 milligrams) and about two popcorn kernels (too many milligrams, man). At least the Hyper-Caffeinated Brownie doesn't appear to look quite as poopy in appearance as the last brownie I talked about two years ago. It still looks poopy, though. Which leads me to ask the question: why do "enhanced" brownies all look like excrement punched into squares? Why don't they look like real, chocolaty brownies? Because, son, caffeine upsets your stomach. And what comes around, goes around. Which is to say they're probably made of poop. See how I brought that around full circle?
  Yeah, I think I'll just stick to replacing the water in my home's tank with liquid cocaine, thank you very much.

Feo.

Screenplaying

  Writing a screenplay is easily the hardest thing I've ever done as far as literary endeavours go. Formatting it is a pain, and trying to transcribe my mind's eye into something a camera can see is a constant effort for me. But I guess that's not too much of a problem considering I'm really excited as to what the outcome will be. Yes, ladies and gentlemen: I have yet another project in the works! This time it's a comedic short film - around 30 minutes in runtime - titled "Flatlands: The Story of Rico Winters". It will follow the fall and rise (which is totally better than a rise and fall) of beatboxing legend Rico Winters, from his brief stint touring the world with multi-platinum rapper G-Wizzly (jointly voted d-bag of the century by Rolling Stone and the BBC) in the '90s to his washing-up in Edmonton 14 years later.
  I really don't want to give out too many details, as the script is still under construction and could change (more importantly, I don't want to ruin it for you). But I'm hoping to have it finished by the middle of this week and to start filming a week from now. This is a huge rush project as I'm trying to finish for the Scholastic Art and Writing Awards, the deadline of which is January 4th.
  While that may seem like a tight deadline, I'm confident I can get a quality film out by that time. By the end of this week, I should be finishing the casting. In other words, I'm hitting this thing head-on. It'll be great, I promise.
  If you want a taste of what the script will be like, check out my other comedic writing: Love Hurts and Some People Can't See The Future.
  I'll keep you all updated as this baby moves forward. For it will, oh yes it will. Because that's what babies do. They move. Forward.

Feo.

Wonder

Wonder

In bed I stare at slatted wood blinds

That let autumn moonlight in,

Slicing at it, making shapes like spines.

Hey Psyché, come for a spin.

I stare and wonder what went wrong,

I stare and wonder what went right.

And as upon creeps dream-song:

Is there a difference in moonlight?

September 2012

Feo.

Streams of Consciousness

  It rained hard this night. And that means quite a bit coming from me; I live in a Canadian city where the summer is fractured by raging thunderstorms that shake windows and illuminate the skies for hours. But it rained hard tonight, here on the border between France and Italy, and it was unlike anything I'd ever seen before. At home, the thunder booms. Here, it sounded more as though some great whip was being flung at the sea below. It crashes here.

  Or maybe that was something that wasn't typical, something special. Neil Armstrong passed away today. Maybe that was the Earth weeping his inevitable fate, the fate of all life that finds itself on this blue expanse we call home. Weeping that the first man who stepped on what is quite probably a piece of the Earth itself had to go further than any other astronaut can. Maybe our planet weeped because we, that life that had taken so long to bloom, had reached its ancient sister, and so had finally bridged a gap of sorts. And now this bridge was collapsing once again.

  I remember that when I was younger I didn't believe in the moon landing. I was completely convinced it was a grand performance staged by a desperate government. I held this belief for a long, long time. I guess I'm still not fully convinced in its happening. I don't think we "normal" people will ever know if it truly happened, not until we set foot on the Moon and see for ourselves the footprints left behind so many years ago. There's no atmosphere on the Moon, and so no wind to sweep those footsteps away. 

  But I have faith that it happened, because if it did, there are only good things to say.

  I wonder where astronauts go when they die? Maybe Neil Armstrong is on his way to a second Moon, one that none in the realm of the living have ever seen. A moon that is kept hidden by our ignorance of the inner (or perhaps outer) machinations of the Universe. I'd expect that that moon has a fresh gelato stand, because even astronauts get sick of freeze-dried ice cream. Maybe they each get a little space station to live in.

  Am I religious? I would say yes. I would say I'm a Christian by definition. I believe in God and in Jesus, and that Jesus is, in fact, the son of God. Although I'm confused as to who the true mother is here. But I also believe that the Sea has a consciousness all its own, and that if you mock it, it will answer accordingly. The lightening that tonight brought sharp blue arcs crashing into the coastal mountains seemed alive. It seemed to be making its own decisions, haphazard as they may have appeared. I also believe that praying for forgiveness will not cleanse you of your sins. Bringing something good to your fellow humans cleanses you of your sins.

  I don't believe in Hell, and I don't believe in the "cloud city" image of Heaven. I prefer to believe that when we move on, we live in peace with the Earth. We are free to roam it in whatever way we see fit, under the condition that we act as guardians towards our loved ones still in the realm of the living. I hope to watch over the people I love when I pass away, to protect them when they truly need protection.

  So I guess I have my own modified version of Christianity. But I am immensely happy to have faith in it. Faith is a shoulder to rest on.

  I don't know what love is. That's what she told me. That we are too young to know what love is. But how do you know when you know what love is? How can we separate the lies of our mind from the truth of our heart? 

  But then again, I don't believe in loving someone without being loved in return. What is the point of spilling everything we can find in our soul if there is no one to appreciate it? I believe in the possibility of convincing someone to love you. However, I was not able to do that. I say 'love' because I am a romantic. 

  I guess I'm over it. But I miss our conversations, the ones that would sometimes go on for hours. It hurts because those conversations don't happen anymore. I don't have conversations like that anymore.

  It ended because it didn't start, but before it ended (or started), I wrote differently. I wrote like the rain that crashed tonight. I wrote the sea, the sky, the mountains, the men, the women, the children, the eyes, the orange sunsets, the veterans, the snow, the lovers, the donkeys, the mattresses. I wrote because I needed to, not because I wanted to. My infatuation leads to sublimation which leads to creation.

  After it ended because it didn't start, I decided to write a story about Cupid shooting people with a sniper rifle. Absolutely no connection, I swear.

  That's what the rain made me think about. It made me question my beliefs and rest in them. It made me look at the past year of my life and remember how sublime sublimation is; how wonderful it is to create without wanting to. It made me realize I'm missing something right now, but I'll find it eventually.

  You can believe what you want, but I want you to look hard in yourself and tell me that the rain has no soul.