Joy of Hexadecimal MP3

There are specialty netlabels, and then there are truly fixated netlabels. There are, in other words, those netlabels that select to focus on a clearly named aesthetic (noisejihad.dk/netlabel), on field recordings (wanderingear.com), or on individual songs (ambulatore.com/yoyo), for example. And then there is Hexawe (hexawe.net), the releases on which have just one simple thing in common: they’re all made on a specific piece of software, the Little Pig Tracker (littlegptracker.com), which is designed to work on game platforms but comes in other builds as well, including for Debian-based systems, as well as Mac- and Windows-based machines.

A “tracker” is about as simple a sequencer there can be, locating musical tidbits along a basic time line. In Little Pig Tracker, all the instructions are handled in a user interface that looks like it powered the payroll at the DMV during a previous gas crisis. How bare bones and old-school is Little Pig Tracker? Well, just for starters, it counts in hexadecimal. See the screenshot below, which is borrowed from the software’s instructional wiki, wiki.littlegptracker.com:

The most recent entry from the Hexawe netlabel as of this writing is “You Put a Smile on My Face” (MP3), a lo-fi, lo-rez bit of lovingly routinized dance music by sm0hm (more at sm0hm.blogspot.com). It’s all club vibes, pixelated hand claps, and zoned out beats. “You Put a Smile on My Face” is release #21 from Hexawe, but true to the label’s name, that’s in hexadecimal (counting backwards it follows on releases #20, #1F, #1D, etc.).

Heavy Rotation: Byrne’s ‘Hymnal,’ Fehlmann’s Sidetrips, Akrobatik’s Blueprint

What I’ve been most focused on, listening-wise, this past week:

Thomas Fehlmann‘s self-deflatingly titled Visions of Blah (Kompakt) is about half standard-issue, if masterfully textured, techno: all loungey backbeats and gentle grooves. But then there are the surprises, like the churning, gurgling, dastardly noise of “Rainbow Over Stadtautobahn” and the almost embarrassingly lush “Boheme Rouge,” on which layers upon layers of string samples, all as substantial as cotton candy but without a hint of sugar, summon up a cloud of epic proportions (save for density, which approaches zero), just in time for Fehlmann to undercut the elegant ether with an increasingly prevalent series of glitchy interruptions, which changes the whole tenor of the piece. Those two tracks alone are worth the price of entry.

In advance of his Absolute Value (Fat Beats) album, under-appreciated rapper Akrobatic released an eight-song Absolute taster EP — four tracks off the 14-song Absolute Value, along with their underlying instrumentals, each of which is a superb slice of studio-honed funk. Though each of the four are by different producers — “Be Prepared” (9th Wonder), “A to the K” (Illmind), “Put Ya Stamp On It” (the late J Dilla), “Beast Mode” (DJ Fakts One) — they share enough interests to make them work as a whole, including a rigorous emphasis on stripped-bare production and the employment of strings and old-school samples. “A to the K” has the heaviest bass line of the batch, and along with it some moody orchestration out of a blaxploitation epic. “Be Prepared” uses a warped r&b moan as its hook, to fun effect. “Beast Mode” is admirably monocular, just this ominously heavy beat, lightened with a bit of syncopation, a kind of considered response to the momentum of NERD.’s hit “She Wants to Move.” And the true keeper is Dilla’s “Put Ya Stamp On It,” which pushes tightly wound strings, all plucked and sawed, against lickety split drums; if a contemporary music ensemble like So Percussion or Alarm Will Sound were to do a hip-hop covers album, this is what it would sound like.

Former Talking Head lead singer David Byrne is busier than ever — with his musical building in lower Manhattan having just come to a close (davidbyrne.com/art, nymag.com), his full-length collaboration with Brian Eno, Everything That Happens Will Happen Today, out in stores and online (everythingthathappens.com), a solo tour underway focused on their various past tandem endeavors, and numerous other projects including one of the strongest BbFPs (blogs by famous people) on the Internet (journal.davidbyrne.com). On top of it all — or, given the limited attention it has received, perhaps buried by it all — he also scores the HBO TV series Big Love, for which he was an inspired choice given his fascination with, to borrow the title of one of the cues from Big Love, “Exquisite Whiteness.” Much of the music on Big Love: Hymnal (Todo Mundo) is a sort of pastoral melodrama, appropriate to the show, which focuses on a polygamist family trying to make it in the “real world,” beyond their ancestral compound. There’s stately piano (“Language Confounded”), horn ensembles (“The Breastplate of Righteousness”), his own voice (unmistakable, and heard as a chorus element on various tracks, as well as in full pop-song mode on the closing “Blue Hawaii”), and a healthy amount of xylophones and the like throughout. At times, the score hints at the relative complexity of his old Knee Plays work, but these cues are especially notable for their poise, the varied instrumentation, and a whimsical mix of genre elements. It’s a kind of Middle American exotica

Images of the Week: Cardiff-Miller-Russolo

Two glimpses of the Sydney Biennial 2008, courtesy of Dan Hill‘s excellent cityofsound.com. A characteristic multi-speaker, immersive environment, titled The Murder of Crows, by longtime collaborators Janet Cardiff and George Bures Miller:

More on the Cardiff/Miller piece at the Sydney Biennial site, bos2008.com, and at seesawtheory.wordpress.com. (Probably the best known Cardiff/Miller work, 40 Part Motet, is on view at the Tacoma Art Museum in Tacoma, Washington, through today, September 7, 2008: tacomaartmuseum.org.)

And  also at Hill’s site, shots of Sydney Biennial reconstructions of Luigo Russolo’s Intonarumori (1914).

The following photo, borrowed from the Biennial site, is the classic shot of Russolo’s original horns-o-plenty installation:

More on Russolo, author of futurist classic The Art of Noises, at bos2008.com. I can’t seem to locate who constructed the reproductions.

The Cardiff/Miller and Russolo works are separated in time by nearly a century. Their close proximity on a Sydney pier emphasizes the continuity of speaker cones as a, if not the, fundamental sculptural touchstone of sound art. Speakers are, in effect, to sound art what the “Funky Drummer” sample was, for a while, to hip-hop and what the “amen break” remains to drum’n’bass and jungle: a near-ubiquitous focal point, a category-defining object to which artists apply their ingenuity.

Quote of the Week: Eno, Safe at Any Speed

From Geeta Dayal‘s introduction (in draft form) to her forthcoming book on the album Another Green World by Brian Eno:

One of the most instructive things I did was to listen to Another Green World at a number of different speeds and volume levels, most selected arbitrarily. Each time I heard something new that I had not heard before — a new sound that was buried in the mix, for example, or an effect, a heavily layered backing vocal, an abstruse lyric. Speeding up and slowing down Discreet Music taught me a lot, too; the first track of Discreet Music, or “Side A” if you happen to own the vinyl copy, is recorded at half-speed. So I listened to it at double-speed, to gain some insight into what the original material might have sounded like before Eno slowed it down. I also listened to it at quarter-speed, which I liked even more than Eno’s half-speed version.

Full text at 33third.blogspot.com. Dayal is a freelance writer, currently doing research at the MIT Center for Future Civic Media.

Death-Ambient Carlos Giffoni MP3

Who says noise-makers don’t have a sense of humor? Prolific death-ambient figure Carlos Giffoni has posted the first track of his forthcoming album, The Absence of Essence 2×7 (Ann Arbor Records), as a free download. Titled “The Absence,” it’s five and a half minutes of white-noise onslaught, the thick industrial groan of some massive factory set on autopilot in the dark of night (MP3). Several listens are required for one to begin to hear through the noise — to discern the shapes that are buried in there, the way harsh slashings of sound and routinized thudding are just as much a part of Giffoni’s brutal work as is the thick haze of static in which they’re subsumed. And then, at the very end, the piece skips to a close, dropping down to a quiet buzz, providing not only a bit of relief but maybe even a smile. More on Giffoni, who has recorded with Nels Cline, Merzbow, Alan Licht, Lee Ranaldo and others, at carlosgiffoni.com.