Smakatrosmic
March 22, 2008 at 7:01 pm
“A Proper IDM List for Once ”
01. Aphex Twin - IZ-US
Come To Daddy (1997)
02. Worm is Green - sunday.session.3.04
Automagic (Arena Rock, 2004)
03. Amon Tobin - Mighty Micro People
Out From Out Where (2002)
04. Matmos - Cabin in The Sky
The Civil War (2003)
05. Shitmat - Shut Up (Hellfish Remix)
Planet Mu - 200 (Planet Mu, 2007)
06. Lars Blek - Dagtid
Lars Blek (Garmonbozia Productions, 2002)
07. Venetian Snares - Absoulute Smakatrosmic
Infolepsy EP (Coredump, 2005)
note: My serious attempt to make IDM listenable. Despite having been around for almost a decade, IDM is not as widely known as more head bopping older cousin techno, the hipper kids twosteps or more traditional rocker’s delight electroclash. True enough dumping standard dance floor functionalism and cramming all sort of strange structure don’t make the genre fit in well. On top of that known leaders in the genre often times rejecting familiar composition like lyric/voice, steady rhythm and keys, etc. Venetian Snares layers sampling so thick and fast, even the craziest gangsta rap think it’s too harsh and should eb avoided for safety reason. On the other end, bunch electronic minimalistas are invading the net and dumping all sort of ultra pristine computer generated sound. They are so common, I can’t even recall any of them. Then there is comfy zone in the middle, Matmos, Telephone Tel Aviv or Boards of Canada for eg. But then again, people don’t think of them as electronic musician or DJ do they?
So is this genre ever going to be listenable at all? I hope so. It has different feel to it. Go pass the novelty bleep, one can find intricate rhythm, clever layering and that odd moment of beauty inside random exploration. Sometimes even melody and cord progression! Wooo…. (I am so conventional.) k. enjoy.
image: limonada
There were the Rougiers, for instance, an old, ragged, dwarfish couple who plied an extraordinary trade. They used to sell postcards on the Boulevard St Michel. The curious thing was that the postcards were sold in sealed packets as pornographic ones, but were actually photographs of chateaux on the Loire; the buyers did not discover this till too late, and of course never complained. The Rougiers earned about a hundred francs a week, and by strict economy managed to be always half starved and half drunk. The filth of their room was such that one could smell it on the floor below. According to Madame F., neither of the Rougiers had taken off their clothes for four years.
Or there was Henri, who worked in the sewers. He was a tall,
Or there was R., an Englishman, who lived six months of the year in Putney with his parents and six months in France. During his time in France he drank four litres of wine a day, and six litres on Saturdays; he had once travelled as far as the Azores, because the wine there is cheaper than anywhere in Europe. He was a gentle, domesticated creature, never rowdy or quarrelsome, and never sober. He would lie in bed till midday, and from then till midnight he was in his comer of the BISTRO, quietly and methodically soaking. While he soaked he talked, in a refined, womanish voice, about antique furniture. Except myself, R. was the only Englishman in the quarter. - George Orwell, 
