Yet, seemingly, they’ve all site of the fact that said calender is cyclical. The world has begun and ended ad infinitum. reinventing itself in the process.

Music, and pop-culture at large, are also tied to these same, Ragnarok-like, ebbs and flows.

New Wave, Alternative, and Indie have been the featured, invented, umbrella terms used to describe the upswellings of listenable music over the past 30 years.
However, as it relates to public consumption, each of these movements had a shelf-life; by the end of their respective musical decades they were usurped by more visceral, feel good music.

The cycle looks to be quite clear – end the decade with crap and languish for the next five years. Enjoy that half decade of creativity and prepare for the following cultural winter.

The last turn of the wheel occurred in 2004. The change was abrupt – Gwen Steffani Covering Talk Talk and reaching farther down into the sewers of music, The Ataris covering The Eagles.

Within a month those songs were banished to the land of wind and ghosts. The Killers, Modest Mouse, and The Yeahs Yeah Yeahs, all existent bands, had broken big and the look and sound of pop-culture would follow.

The rest is present day history. The question now, is Have we left that time?

Are we a few months away from Fred Durst’s new project, or maybe Lady Gaga is the newest harbinger or the musical end times?

Alternatively, have we broken the cycle? Data and ideas move exponentially faster than they did six years ago – have the mercurial opinions that accompany disposable media rendered a decades worth of pop-cultural tending down to a month long process?

Does this even matter in the face of 2012? In the immortal words of Kent Brockman, I for one welcome our new insect overlords.

“Zola Jesus didn’t need to clean up to stand apart from the Lo-fi horde– they already had Nika Danilova’s voice”

In the very first sentence of their review of Zola Jesus’ new EP Stridulum, Pitchfork presents the reader with a clear image of the music – great female vocals and Lo-fi sound. The expectations are set – early Liz Phair, or maybe the garage sounds of No Age or Vivian girls.

Nope, no Lo-fi here.

Buzzing guitars, scratchy vocals, pervasive noise, and other Lo-fi staples have been supplanted by dron, martial percussion, and a sole, powerful and echoing, voice. This is downright goth.

A look over at Zola Jesus’ site confirms the thought:

What are your musical influences? – Singers with big voices, like Diamanda Galas and Tina Turner. Divas. Film scores from the ’70s and ’80s. Industrial and power electronics. BBC Radiophonic Workshop, Opera, Philip K. Dick.

Bizarre female vocalist? Really avant garde electronic music? Dystopian science fiction?

Congrats to you, Zola Christ, you’ve managed to break the vicious cycle – you’re beyond the scene and have a much more relevant genre tag. I have found my post-goth figure to rally behind.

Call this a mashup between two objects of my adoration – historical analysis of century old art and interweb pop-satire.

The talk of the day comes from a post on HRO discussing sub-genre, namely the author, Carles, branded a smattering on contemporary artists with a mock-genre tag. Now these artists don’t know each other, don’t talk, and really have nothing in all in common…

…aside from sounding really, really similar.

Within the coming months, the name catches on around the online music masses, then the big name music mavens pick up on, and finally, the anti-Google, stuffed shirt, big ass deal of print media discusses it in detail.

The online mob has been co-opted and is none to happy about it.

Taxonomy

If the manifesto is the expression of “hey world, this is who I am,” than the world responds by placing us into taxonomic categories, or in the case of music, genres and sub-genres.

Named lots of “things that are like other things,” allow the listener to identify what they like in broad strokes or tow name drop at a part to sound smart – You don’t enjoy the musique concrete styles of so-and-so? such a shame. More importantly, they allow the listener to be marketed to.

Major labels have made a living for the past 30 years by lumping the sounds of relevant and unrelated artists in massive umbrella genres.

New-wave, Alternative, and Electronica add less definition to an artist than New Weird America, and yet is far more recognizable and has pushed far many more units. It would seem that useless genres have some serious worth.

Manifesto

Before social media allowed us to succinctly present our view of the world in an About Me section, artists had to work hard to convey the intent of their art.

Manifestos set the direction for an artist/collective work – when the Marinetti published the Futurist Manifesto 100 years ago, he was making it clear, “THIS is what we’re about: what we do and why we do it.” If a like minded fellow came along, he would say “me too,” and that would be the end of that.

In the modern era, apparently this notion of manifesto has been perverted. The artists who strive to make something new work actively to defy definition and to create solely to create. The artists that say, “THIS is what we’re about: how why sound and why we do it” are usually just attaching themselves to an established sub-genre – a phenomenon that can lead to a sound becoming a scene.

With artists ducking out of the race to define a sound, they lose the opportunity to control their perceived image and the direction of their identity and audience.

Who Cares

You’re reading this on the internet.

In 20 years, the web has been full of more single-minded pundits than either of the big American political parties. As the ability to find and reach an ever growing audience grows easier, the power of the online pundit to distribute a thought as fact also grows easier.

As such, it only takes a single blog post can unwillingly redefine an artist. If you have a problem with a semi-anonymous poster on the internet taking control of your art, pony up and define yourself.

It’s my new sub-genre: underwater ice music.

Imagine Superman’s Fortress of Solitude or the Ice Queen’s Palace. Now put it in an underwater ice cave. What music would be played there? Sonically it would be defined by notes that hang in the could air, voices and string plucks echo off of icy walls, and beats that reverberate throughout the structure and then dissipate into the surrounding waters.

Historically, Underwater Ice music has it’s deepest roots in the following two sounds:

His Name is Alive – Livonia | Home Is In Your Head

Quite possibly one of the most unsung bands from 4AD’s heyday, His Name is Alive probably suffered from being between the Cocteau Twins and Pixies eras.

Consisting on a wild mix of tapes spliced and edited, His Name is Alive’s first two albums are lush, but schizophrenic, soundscapes in which single guitar strings ring louder than the pulse of the drums, and the vocals hum out of some unseen space. If the Grudge has a soft spot and a love of avant garde music, it would be a fan.

Bjork – Vespertine

The follow up to 90s defining album, Homogenic, Vespertine is often the overlooked album between the “big deal” disc and the one that was featured in the ‘04 Sydney Olympics.

Vespertine does away with the austere cyber future ascetics of Homogenic, and marries the artificial with the organic. Drum machines sputter and drift while breathy vocals fill the remaining space. For some reason or another, it’s considered a sensual album – perhaps it’s some sort of neo-primitive sensuality, but there’s nothing decidedly warm about the album, instead it’s just raw and overpowering, like windchill.

White Hinterland – Kairos

Is there any other band name more closely tied to the notion of Underwater Ice music than White Hinterland? If there is, it’s most probably some Norwegian Black Metal band.

Digression aside, Kairos is available for pre-oder – a deal that comes with a full album rip (all at 320 bps).

Kairos begins with the previously discussed Icarus, which serves more to set the listener up for a softer, more layer and ethereal, sound. The next track, Moon Jam, dispels this notion entirely.

White Hinterland – Moon Jam

Kairos continues on with thuds, plucks, and echo – as per it underwater ice roots, but adds a bit of trip-hop thematics, vocally and in terms of beat structure. It’s a major departure from White Hinterlands previous album Phylactery Factory, which was far too deep into the “Feist-y singing lady” genre to break out. On the other hand, Kairos boldly moves my newly invented genre into the 10’s. Maybe in another decade or so we’ll find another artist to lump into the subgenre.

Perhaps I’ve fallen prey to a very grassroots, viral marketing scheme for a new Jack Sparrow + the guy that boned Planet of the Apes flick. Or, maybe I shouldn’t have given Jerry O’Connell a buck when I saw him outside of 7-11.

All I know is that I’m in a world in which Los Angeles post-goth duo, She Wants Revenge exists, but doesn’t suck. Maybe suck is a bit strong of a word. How about ‘but doesn’t bring anything new to the table.’

They also have a new name – The Delta Mirror.

Whereas in my side of the looking glass, I had Bauhaus rips and songs about jilling and popsickles, The Delta Mirror Brings depth (rabbit hole deep). Yes, we get the post-goth sounds – brooding music and properly laid beats, but we also get piano, vocal textures, and fluttering IDM touches.

Instead of a weak Blade Runner concept album, there are the Vangelis-like flows of electronics that only M83 seem to be able to pull off.

Most importantly, we get the droning and flawed voice, but it has a sense of emotion that leaks into the rest of the layer tracks, rather than just talking over them.

Really, instead of traveling through the looking glass, it would seem that I was lucky enough to have instead discovered the long hidden, secret love child of Idioteque and Atmosphere. While they might never be cooler than their parents, as long as they don’t grow up to be accountants, their pedigree is secure.

The Delta Mirror have an album out this month along with a residency at The Echo, in Los Angeles – I plan to give them money, you should too

Skinny Puppy and Front 242 were on MTV (midnight on a Sunday, but still they were on). The music you love has a pedigree dating back to Throbbing Gristle in the 70s. Your musical forefathers have mucho music cred, and the newest crop is rebellious and yet relevant.

Take in the sites and smells – this is the last time anyone else in the world will care about Industrial music.

We can file the numbers off and protect that names of the innocent in this scenario. It’s ‘97 and you like Ska. ‘04 and cardigan styled Emo. Two ill-spent months in ‘89 with baggy….

ad. infinitum

The truth of the matter is that while the music, your music, continues to spawn merch, tour, and inspire new bands, they don’t matter. They’re not the black sheep of the musical sub-genre family, they’re the fish head eating mutant that lives in the attic.

Why the pariah status?

Back in the early 90’s, a music critic referred to the London Shoegaze Scene as “the scene that celebrates itself,” and subsequently, the rest of the critics stopped caring. Despite birthing some musical landmarks, the Shoegaze scene got kneecapped, and went from being a sound to a scene.

The criticism was totally valid. When a sound is codified and becomes a sub-genre, the rules are set – attire, attitude, and others are standardized. With the rules set, the old fans become die-hards or drop out and the new fans come in already knowing the rules. Most importantly, with the look, the sound, and the crowd predefined, the artist stop creating and begin producing for the fan base.

Bands in the _________ scene make _________ music for _________ fans.

And this is why your scene doesn’t matter, at least outside of your scene.

Let the genre nitpicking begin.

The XX are one of the notable bands du jour. They’re English, they’re young, and they make downtempo music. Specifically they’ve taken dub step beats, added organic instruments, and a male/female vocal dynamic.

Slowdive are one of the most well regarded of the original wave of shoegaze bands. They were English, they were young, and they make downtempo music. They took the peddle heavy wall of sound pioneered on Loveless and added intricacy, and a male/female vocal dynamic.

Yup, I smell some similarities.

Hell, let’s also note that neither band would have existed without the Cocteau Twins, who created the dream pop sound that would be the birthing place of shoegaze, trip hop (which lead to dub step), and a myriad of other, finically named micro-genres.

For the purpose of further comparison, here check the songs belong – you can click through and check out more.

Agreed? Disagree? Care less? Sound off! You can now login to comment using Facebook – just click the button below the comment box.

Presidents Day, Valentines, and Valentines Day are apparently more important than the internet – shocker of shockers.

On to business.

My little Sirius unit bestowed to me the knowledge that the new Dum Dum Girls single just came out. What a cruel world it is when satellite radio out info-dumps Gorilla vs Bear and Pitchfork. For shame!

So, it would seem that yesterday Dum Dum Girls dropped a much overdo single to hype their March release. We get two songs, and update on Jail La La and a Rolling Stones cover.

The Stones cover… well, I’m no fan of the Stones, so I’ll blame the source material. The update on Jail La La adds the Ronettes backup vocals that’s been on the videos coming out of live shows. Really, Best Coast should watch out, as the Dum Dum Girls seem to be the strongest of the low-fi, Spector-esque Los Angeles bands. Scratch that – best L.A. bands.

March can’t come soon enough, as I really want a mastered version of this song:

Their earlier stuff seems to fall into the “chick and a piano” genre, which I’m not a major fan of – I like Bat for Lashes when they have a beat, and have never really enjoyed the raging viking commonly known as Tori Amos. But the new song, Icarus, is a different beast altogether.

The comparison being thrown around are to The XX, and that sounds to be more of a “hey, you like this buzz-band, you’ll like this,” than something really based on style or mood. Yes, they both make use of sonic negative space, but as I said in the 09 Best ofs, The XX’s uses negative space for contrast – their pedigree is closer to a band like Slowdive (to be discussed in further detail tomorrow – watch out). Instead, Icarus, seems to pull it’s influences from something a bit older. So first, give a listen:

I hear layers – cascades of complimentary sounds. I hear touches of keyboards that make me think ambiance.

Ambient 2: The Plateaux of Mirror – on Brian Eno’s second trip into inventing a sound that has reached forward and influences music to this day, he brought along pianist Harold Budd.

Come ‘86, Budd would collaborate with the Cocteau Twins, who themselves influence dreamy and spacey music to this day, to create a very overlooked album.

The Moon and the Melodies, here’s Icarus’ ancestor.

Treat the vocals as another layer, dig deeper, it’s there. Washed out sounds highlighted by hints of keyboard, hung together on a synthetic beat. Wistful sounds.

That Furlong thing never came to fruition, but by the second half of the decade, a more benign Skynet takeover seemed imminent. Detroit had brought the techno, the Brits had passed acid house and MDMA across the pacific, and the hoover sound was the biggest and baddest of them all. Papua New Guinea represented the harmonious union of world cultures and technology.

The cultural juggernaut that is was, mass media soon got on board. We had the first uber-umbrella term paid on us by the music industry – Electronica. Homogenic and Kid A showed that even Alternative bands knew what was up. MTV heard our collective voices and brought us our standard-barer of things to come. Fashion promised us round backpacks, hot chicks with neon hair, and big ass pants to hold all our futuristic doodads – beneath which we would rollerblade, appearing to the world like levitating horsemen of the new millennium.

The future looked fiber optically bright.

And then things had to go and Okenfolded in on itself. The Sneakerpimps were without any hos – and that was that. By ‘01, the beats that had once promised digital Shangri-La were now only heard in new model Mustangs cruising for chicks. The machines had lost, and the new millennium was ushered in by a bunch of baseball cap sporting, white rappers.

The memory does live on; the resistance is out there. In towns too small to name, but too large to only support Juggalos, the spirit is alive. PLUR… or not.