Matthew Ingram

Switched-On

Switched-On
Given the phenomenal amount of writing on music it is strange that any writing on the technical aspects of its creation is confined to an inner circle of musicians. Is the production of music really such a difficult thing to comprehend? Can it truly be such a boring subject? Given how the evolution of electronic music in particular is practically dictated by the form and function of these tools, it’s yet more peculiar that, beyond a smattering of buzzwords, critics have been unable to talk about it with more than a fraction of the attention that they invest in describing its abstract qualities, discussing its relationship to contemporaneous philosophical currents or plotting its socio-cultural context. Given the commercial audience’s progressive disenchantment with electronic music over the past decade, it seems the moment is ripe for a dispassionate critical engagement with its production practices. To do this is to undertake a task similar to that practised by the artist David Hockney in his ‘Secret Knowledge’ project in which, with unadorned northern charm, he illuminatingly described how Florentine and Flemish Masters used mirrors and lenses to paint their pictures.

Halcyon Days
Since 2000 we have witnessed a dissipation of the elemental power of electronic music. A unique synergy led the ’90s to be a golden era for the form. We experienced a confluence of technological, pharmacological and social factors that saw the avant-garde strains of ’80s popular music (electro and synth-pop) blossom into a rainbow of musical variety. Recognisably new forms of music seemed to arrive by the week as we plunged headfirst into booming possibilities. The sheer quantity of releases within a genre such as hardcore jungle between 1991 and 1993 attests to the rabid explosion of interest in what had previously tended to be a fringe music.


– The rest of this article is printed in Loops Issue 01, available to buy from these Stockists.