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== <small>'''Texto'''</small> ==
 
== <small>'''Texto'''</small> ==
  
−
nobody
+
''nobody
  
−
knows where you’re at...
+
knows where you’re at...''
  
 
We could begin anywhere. A history of
 
We could begin anywhere. A history of
Línea 20: Línea 20:
  
 
be allotted a place as either pop or an avant-garde
 
be allotted a place as either pop or an avant-garde
 +
 
music - on the whole it doesn’t take refuge in art and
 
music - on the whole it doesn’t take refuge in art and
 +
 
slips away from categorisation as the net of naming is
 
slips away from categorisation as the net of naming is
 +
 
unfurled. It avoids the discipline of nostalgia which
 
unfurled. It avoids the discipline of nostalgia which
 +
 
keeps people in the thrall of the past, unable to even
 
keeps people in the thrall of the past, unable to even
 +
 
think of the future but always referring back. Nos-
 
think of the future but always referring back. Nos-
 +
 
talgia is a language of lack, a language that fills
 
talgia is a language of lack, a language that fills
 +
 
people with longings for a past that never
 
people with longings for a past that never
 +
 
happened, a present that never comes,
 
happened, a present that never comes,
 +
 
for the gift that never arrives.
 
for the gift that never arrives.
 +
 +
 +
 +
''it is difficult for words to
 +
 +
say that which is their purpose
 +
 +
to deny...''
 +
 +
Who knows what happens when we hear
 +
 +
the sounds? Thoughts can race without being
 +
 +
apprehended as thoughts and it is an indication of
 +
 +
the tyranny of words that experience must pass
 +
 +
through language to make it ‘real’. As we listen in the
 +
 +
network of composition there is a challenge to invent
 +
 +
new vocabularies to communicate what it is that occurs,
 +
 +
to express explorations and to rewrite the multiple per-
 +
 +
sonalities of the music. As a challenge to language
 +
 +
that is imbued with hierarchisations, techno conducts
 +
 +
the fleeting awareness that, just as what is possi-
 +
 +
ble is limited by pre-conceptions, listening de-
 +
 +
mands more ignorance than knowledge. For
 +
 +
then we are mobile... stammer bass kick
 +
 +
unfurling in blue analogue...
 +
 +
tabula rasa.
 +
 +
 +
 +
''techknowledge...''
 +
 +
The music studio is re-defining
 +
 +
the human as a continuously mutat-
 +
 +
ing collage of old and new technologies,
 +
 +
as adaptions designed through play and ex-
 +
 +
perimentation. In this model, samplers are the
 +
 +
hyper-concentrated representation of the subjec-
 +
 +
tive experience of time, with possibilities for time
 +
 +
travel through stretching, combining, looping, com-
 +
 +
pressing and reversing sounds. Sequencers form new
 +
 +
desires for composing, connected to the breaking up of
 +
 +
an individual into a collection of experiments. Drum ma-
 +
 +
chines and synths are tools for the survival against
 +
 +
mediocre audio programming and the restrictions of
 +
 +
commerciality, fashion, competition and self-promo-
 +
 +
tion. Routes constructed between music studios and
 +
 +
dance floors circulate into resistance against unac-
 +
 +
ceptable states of mind.
 +
 +
Only with machines can we recognise that
 +
 +
most information is data trash. Only with
 +
 +
machines can repetitious sound
 +
 +
blocks crash to create unex-
 +
 +
pected forms.
 +
 +
 +
 +
 +
''feeling
 +
 +
like another self...''
 +
 +
As distance dissolves into space and
 +
 +
space dissolves into the haze of continual
 +
 +
abeyance, the new celebrants loose track of
 +
 +
time. The dance becomes a beyond unmarked
 +
 +
by archaic calligraphy of computer text, irreducible
 +
 +
to mystic yearnings but all the same a kind of blank. A
 +
 +
nothing. A nothing so far imagined. A nothing that gives
 +
 +
the lie to the word-net we throw over it. Body move-
 +
 +
ments in strobe/smoke. We are here suspended in a
 +
 +
slow motion that lets sparks fly as it visually contradicts
 +
 +
the call to speed-emotion of the music. This is our sover-
 +
 +
eign moment, spreading a virus of pleasure and awak-
 +
 +
ening. The moment when future and past no longer
 +
 +
meet in consciousness, where the music reverses
 +
 +
the effect of gravity. Lost hours. Lost days. Inter-
 +
 +
twined in ever escalating cycles of repetition
 +
 +
whose pulsations present unimaginable
 +
 +
sounds almost heard in the sudden
 +
 +
space surrounding acres
 +
 +
of bass drum.
 +
 +
AnarchOz
 +
 +
 +
 +
''sensorimotors...''
 +
 +
The listener as the operator.
 +
 +
These sounds are eminently
 +
 +
favourable to the birth and contagion of an
 +
 +
intense excitement with its inferred incitement
 +
 +
given propulsion by a rolling flanged bassline that
 +
 +
chases melodies away with accentuated off-beat
 +
 +
boosted cymbal rushes that touch internal organs by
 +
 +
impatient percussive patterns that encourage waste
 +
 +
pure and simple. Dislocated dance. Social magic. We
 +
 +
stumble across limits to conceptualising. Close your
 +
 +
eyes and listen to blurred vision. Eyes cease to order
 +
 +
things. Your senses overflow into one another,
 +
 +
emerging as a senseless confusion of taste smell
 +
 +
and memory. The very air is tormented into an
 +
 +
audio gel. Body music surrounds the listener
 +
 +
who thinks as a pack intuitively knowing
 +
 +
how to go all out... The secret is to
 +
 +
hear what you never
 +
 +
heard before.
  
 
== <small>'''Contexto'''</small> ==
 
== <small>'''Contexto'''</small> ==

Revisión del 21:51 20 feb 2022

Texto

nobody

knows where you’re at...

We could begin anywhere. A history of

techno would be too obvious and would

imply that the creative phase was over. Any at-

tempts at a genealogy, a hierarchical archeology,

or a precise pinpointing of musicians prohibit an un-

derstanding of the simultaneity of multiple codes, the

overlappings between styles and forms. Techno cannot

be allotted a place as either pop or an avant-garde

music - on the whole it doesn’t take refuge in art and

slips away from categorisation as the net of naming is

unfurled. It avoids the discipline of nostalgia which

keeps people in the thrall of the past, unable to even

think of the future but always referring back. Nos-

talgia is a language of lack, a language that fills

people with longings for a past that never

happened, a present that never comes,

for the gift that never arrives.


it is difficult for words to

say that which is their purpose

to deny...

Who knows what happens when we hear

the sounds? Thoughts can race without being

apprehended as thoughts and it is an indication of

the tyranny of words that experience must pass

through language to make it ‘real’. As we listen in the

network of composition there is a challenge to invent

new vocabularies to communicate what it is that occurs,

to express explorations and to rewrite the multiple per-

sonalities of the music. As a challenge to language

that is imbued with hierarchisations, techno conducts

the fleeting awareness that, just as what is possi-

ble is limited by pre-conceptions, listening de-

mands more ignorance than knowledge. For

then we are mobile... stammer bass kick

unfurling in blue analogue...

tabula rasa.


techknowledge...

The music studio is re-defining

the human as a continuously mutat-

ing collage of old and new technologies,

as adaptions designed through play and ex-

perimentation. In this model, samplers are the

hyper-concentrated representation of the subjec-

tive experience of time, with possibilities for time

travel through stretching, combining, looping, com-

pressing and reversing sounds. Sequencers form new

desires for composing, connected to the breaking up of

an individual into a collection of experiments. Drum ma-

chines and synths are tools for the survival against

mediocre audio programming and the restrictions of

commerciality, fashion, competition and self-promo-

tion. Routes constructed between music studios and

dance floors circulate into resistance against unac-

ceptable states of mind.

Only with machines can we recognise that

most information is data trash. Only with

machines can repetitious sound

blocks crash to create unex-

pected forms.



feeling

like another self...

As distance dissolves into space and

space dissolves into the haze of continual

abeyance, the new celebrants loose track of

time. The dance becomes a beyond unmarked

by archaic calligraphy of computer text, irreducible

to mystic yearnings but all the same a kind of blank. A

nothing. A nothing so far imagined. A nothing that gives

the lie to the word-net we throw over it. Body move-

ments in strobe/smoke. We are here suspended in a

slow motion that lets sparks fly as it visually contradicts

the call to speed-emotion of the music. This is our sover-

eign moment, spreading a virus of pleasure and awak-

ening. The moment when future and past no longer

meet in consciousness, where the music reverses

the effect of gravity. Lost hours. Lost days. Inter-

twined in ever escalating cycles of repetition

whose pulsations present unimaginable

sounds almost heard in the sudden

space surrounding acres

of bass drum.

AnarchOz


sensorimotors...

The listener as the operator.

These sounds are eminently

favourable to the birth and contagion of an

intense excitement with its inferred incitement

given propulsion by a rolling flanged bassline that

chases melodies away with accentuated off-beat

boosted cymbal rushes that touch internal organs by

impatient percussive patterns that encourage waste

pure and simple. Dislocated dance. Social magic. We

stumble across limits to conceptualising. Close your

eyes and listen to blurred vision. Eyes cease to order

things. Your senses overflow into one another,

emerging as a senseless confusion of taste smell

and memory. The very air is tormented into an

audio gel. Body music surrounds the listener

who thinks as a pack intuitively knowing

how to go all out... The secret is to

hear what you never

heard before.

Contexto

Autoras

Fuentes

Enlaces

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