Darkness & Light: Mixing and Attitude In An Era Of Bellendery
The fallout from Andy Weatherall’s death will be around for some time and has taken everybody by surprise. Not just the outpourings of grief (none of it maudlin, or cloaked in cloying sentimentality, btw, but heartfelt, genuine and life-affirming), but the unexpectedness of it all. That is to say, the reactions of a lot of those who came into contact with the man, either personally, through his music or because they identified with his outlook. (Not unexpected in the literal sense, but in the weight and feeling of it all), Irreplaceable as he was, hope is now on the horizon to allay any fears that his life was in vain and that the baton will be passed; not to any one person you understand, but to a whole raft of fellow travellers, infected forever by the Guvnor’s words, deeds and philosophy. There is light at the end of the tunnel and the show will go on.
This post was going to be about extreme transitions which make sense, but has typically veered off that road and gone up a mountain track, led by a lonely goat herder, whose convoluted way of doing things means we won't be back for tea. It has become one whose multi-faceted sensibilities are simultaneously random and systematic, reliant on memory and invention for their oxygen. Like a poet, the DJ is a figure of both quantifiable and liquid worlds; someone whose art is on the ne hand superficial, on the other profound. When I was much younger I used to think that true art was a spontaneous ejaculation of feeling and intent and that in order to be an artist you had to take mind-altering substances as a matter of course. This was always a more credible way of doing things and you were a more interesting person by definition of having done such things. I still think that, but my days of getting blitzed are, by and large, behind me now.
Never say never though. Which leads us onto the transcendent powers of music and the mix. When is a blend not a blend, and the same goes for transitions too. My own approach to mixing has been to do what excites me and to not stay in my comfort zone too much. That doesn’t men much though, as I am a player of records rather than a technical virtuoso. I’ve always learnt from my mistakes, but that hasn’t stopped me making them again. At first, like many I suspect, I was of the opinion that anything could be mixed with anything of a certain tempo, and the more eclectic the better. Somehow everything would be ok if it were under the same vague umbrella. It wasn’t and rarely is, except in the delicate hands of a master. Weatherall was one such; Harvey is another, and maybe it’s him who now shoulders the burden of the world’s most multi-faceted DJ and seer. This doesn't mean that there aren’t other DJs with similar capacities to remain ahead of the curve, but few have such elevated positions according to their fans. The darkness and light thing has always intrigued me: it’s a simple statement of sequence. Draw the listener in with something somber and then release them from it with a burst of happiness. I remember going to see Moodymann play his first ever English gig around twenty years ago on August Bank Holiday weekend. He really wasn’t very good at all and was outshone by Theo Parrish. Rick Wilhite was there and I remember him opening his set with Carl Craig’s ‘The Wonders Of Wishing (For You).’ A strange curtain raiser as it fairly twats itself out of the blocks. It’s the breakdown that everybody doesn’t expect that does the trick though. With momentum kept up the track becomes drenched in a sun kissed ambience that acts as a wonderful bridge to somewhere less disturbed. A lot of Weatherall’s mixes pursue similar objectives but not as flagrantly. There’s a more skilled transitioning from one mood to the next. His first Essential mix is forever etched into my sonic consciousness purely because of (is it an edit) Killing Joke’s ‘Millenium’ getting the ball rolling. That mix only features nineteen tracks over two hours but is a masterpiece of the long blend. Tracks come and go and the listener is none the wiser. It’s one of those formative listening experiences that I will never forget> Listening to it live at my friend, Mike’s, flat in Glasgow having accompanied him up there in November 1993. He’s still there too. CCL is another DJ I have been very much enjoying listening to recently for similar aforementioned reasons. She seems to be able to blend multiple styles effortlessly and is technically gifted. Her ‘Unsound Podcast 56’ is a great example of this approach, as is ‘Discwoman 84’. I don't think that it’s nearly as necessary to go into detail as it is to listen to the mixes. I probably listen to more than most and can honestly say that while I do like things to be torn apart occasionally in a set, there’s no substitute for subtlety. Something that comes to mind when listening to Ciel’s recent Melbourne Deepcast, which is just over an hour and a half of deep, dubby vibes, the temperature of which is raised but it never boils over. A third of it is almost downtempo, before you’re moved into a realm of more metallic angularity, finishing things off with an object lesson in restraint and breakbeat polyvalency. Around the 80 minute mark it also sounds like classic turn of the century Californian dubbed out tribal house a la H-Foundation. Definitely a sound in need of a revival. So I mostly survive by listening to online mixes these days, as well as recording my own. And while I understand the need for some DJs to preserve a sense of anonymity and mystery, I very much disagree with Villalobos’ stance regarding not posting his sessions online because it would stop people coming to see him in the club; as if everybody who wants to can. It’s a similar approach to that of the football league not allowing the broadcasting of football at 3pm on a Saturday. What if you’re poor, agoraphobic, claustrophobic or just don’t like clubbing. So many things wrong with that stance. The DJs he has probably had the most influence on, the Romanians: Raresh, Rhadoo and Petre Inspirescu, aka [a:rpia:r], are some of those closer in spirit to the Croydon. South London/Surrey tech house sound ever. They do add a more transcendent element though, overlaying their selections with all manner of mysticism, imbuing them with a constant metaphysical wonkiness. I suppose what I’m trying to get through within this ramble is that playing records well is not something anyone can do. It takes a comparative lifetime to do it and anyone who says they know it all is a bullshitter. I am in awe of those who are at the top of their game and unique, and there’s lots of them out there. Each doing their own thing in a very effective, enjoyable way.
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