MUTEK reviews, interviews, etc

[Tobias <tobias@xxxxxxxxx>]

Hi everyone,

Here's the text of an article on
MUTEK which will be published
in Discorder magazine based out
of Vancouver.

Included: a night-by-night review,
plus interviews with Matmos and
Tomas Jirku.

The interviews of Goem and Jetone
are still being transcribed, and although
it does not look like they will make it
into print because of length considerations,
I will post them here.

Everything should also be up soon,
including photographs from Tanya
Goehring, at http://www.targetcircuitry.com
Give me a couple of days to get it all up...

cheers,

tobias

:::::::s///////////t||||||------------------
tobias|saibot
http://www.shrumtribe.com
http://www.targetcircuitry.com
-------------------------------------------


MUTEK

Article by tobias v + a report from Paul Sly
Photographs by Tanya Goehring


WHAT IS MUTEK?

“Music, Sound, and New Technologies.”

Mutek is all about the cross between minimal techno artists,
electro-acoustic, ambient music and academic computer musicians. One night,
it’s experimental blips, glitches, beeps, and clicks n’ cuts; the next
night, it’s slamming minimal tech-house. Mutek pushes artists that are
picking up on the fertile musical no-person’s land between the post-rave
music lover and the armchair academic, the dancefloor and the bong. Mutek is
about exploring the relation between music, technology and visual
composition, with many artists featuring video-visual work as a part of
their performance. Mutek is also distinctly Canadian as the North American
answer to Spain’s Sonar festival in Barcelona. Held in Montreal for the
second year running and spearheaded by Alain Mongeau of the Ex-Centris
Cinema and New Media Complex, Mutek featured over 35 artists from 8
different countries for an exhaustive 5 nights. Each night featured a free
“cinq a sept” (happy hour, 5-7) at the SAT (Societe des Arts
Technologiques), which is one massive gallery-warehouse in downtown
Montreal. The later shows were first held at the postmodern ultra-cool
Ex-Centris film building (built by Daniel Langlois), and then the weekend
shows were at the SAT, featuring 6-speaker surround sound. Most shows
featured at least several hundred people, and the final Sunday performance
sold out the SAT with 800 plus. More info and audio archives:
http://www.mutek.ca


THE MUTATED DIARY OF TOBIAS

29th. 11.00 pm. Arrive at Dorval. Pukey mid-‘70s architecture greets me.  I
take a cab to the McGill dorms downtown. The cab driver thinks he is Jacques
Villeneuve. Montreal flashes by in the night. I arrive, smoke even though I
don’t smoke, prepare for the arrival of Discorder agents Paul and Tanya, and
tomorrow’s festivities. I am in a Presbyterian dorm and I feel like a
heretic spy.

30th. Anarchist graffiti abounds around McGill: posters, slogans. I prepare
for the first Happy Hour. This is a big deal: no Gore-Tex here. Everyone is
slick. People wear a scarf to take a shit. Vancouver’s Ben Nevile has
snagged a live slot as Ricardo Villalobos and Dandy Jack are held up at the
border. He astounds everyone with his inventive and LIVE laptop set,
performing with software he wrote himself and a programmed air-MIDI
joystick. Finally the Chilean-Germans take over, rocking the place with a
live set of crisp minimal techno that is only a taste of their later
marathon sets. Villalobos looks and rocks like a superstar. Onto Ex-Centris.
Everyone sits down on the floor in the seat-less theatre. Martin Tetreault +
I8U output bass and crackles, and Goem quickly assault all with a wall of
sound that forces me to move away from the speakers. Mikael Stavostrand is
dubby + clicky but unremarkable. Montreal’s Jetone finishes the evening with
a journey through classical ambient and sliced and diced beats in another
on-the-fly live laptop set. Already this year I can see the immense leap
several people have made from using the laptop as a glorified DAT to playing
the laptop as a live instrument.

31st. Ben Nevile and I head out for dejeuner at La Place Milton. Ben says he
needs to eat 30% more because he is bigger. Later, having coffee, a
red-headed girl with braces approaches me for a djarum. I give her the last
one—I am not much of a smoker. Social smoking? People walk around here with
cigs hanging out of their mouths 24/7. And everyone drinks everywhere. You
could get a liquor license for a garbage can. Why can't BC be like this? Why
are we such FUCKING PURITANS? The 5-7 features local Montreal artists. An
interesting lot, but rather undeveloped in their sound. Julien Roy is good
with his laptop beats, Vrac attacks with a noise set, and Rodeo in Reno get
droned & stoned over a heavy analogue set-up. The Ex-Centris show delivers.
Montreal’s AELab smoothes out into ambience and beats, but it is California’
s Matmos that steal the night with an incredible live show, playing a rat
cage with a violin bow and sampling a liposuction tube for “California
Rhinoplasty.” The German group Rechenzentraum up the tempo with a fantastic
off-kilter & dark techno set and well-mixed off the cuff visuals that propel
everyone dancing, or at least bobbing their heads in an avante-garde
fashion. Back at the SAT, we catch Mike Shannon cutting perfectly smooth on
3 decks, and then Villalobos and Dandy Jack drop a Playhouse sounding live
set of hard, minimal house. After about an hour and a half, Villalobos takes
over on the decks. Not only is he a stellar producer, he can DJ like a
mindfucker! Smooth and hard, mixing in ‘80s classics like Thomas Dolby,
Nitzer Ebb, & Technotronic. We dance until 3am, then head back to the dorms,
dead tired.

01st. Burnout. We are wandering, eyes wide, feet barely supporting bodies.
Outside the SAT, the nightlife of St. Catherine’s takes over—5x the
intensity of Robson Street. I hear the music and the French language all
mixed together in a wet ensemble. Earlier at the 5-7, Kapotte Muziek (the
alter-ego of Goem) presented a live found-sound contact-mic performance by a
workshop of festival goers. That brings us to now, and to Process, whose
mindbending visuals and intricate minimal ambient music compliment the
repetitive, Terry Riley-esque set by Phillipe Cam (France). Gustavo Lamas
(Argentina) moves into beats n’ washes, and Germany’s DJ Triple R plays a
straightforward, muted set of dub techno. But the real surprise was Montreal
’s Akufen, who simply rocked the place with hard, cutting beats and
well-thought out programming, slamming into deep minimal techno. We walk
back in drenching rain, soaking ourselves to the skin.

02nd. I awake feverish and sick. The festival is taking its toll and
Montreal continues to rain upon us when we least expect it. Barely conscious
at the 5-7, Montreal’s Mitchell Akiyama and Toronto’s Tomas Jirku play two
solid minimal techno sets for their Substractif label launch. At the main
event, Dettinger, whose 20 minute set means I only catch the last few
textured minutes of beautiful soundscape. The rest of the night was
forgettable. Germany’s Kompakt label crew of  Jonas Bering and Closer Music
leave a lot to be desired. Closer play whole tracks at 110bpm, very basic
crisp minimal house, and people start to leave. DJ Tobias Thomas is plain
boring: play the whole track, mix for 10 seconds, put the flanger on,
repeat. Ben told me that this is a German way of DJing, but if this is the
case, then why not just buy a jukebox and get the same effect? It would be a
hell of a lot cheaper. We leave early, psyched for tomorrow.

MR. SLY’s SEQUENCE OV EVENTS by Paul Sly

03rd. Oh my God, its been almost five days. My bones and muscles are tired.
But I awake early with my companions to attend the "Mutek Brunch."  We
arrive to a throng of stars standing in the stairwell of a Plateau Royal
bohemian pad. We eat bagels with Matmos & Herbert & Mitchell Akiyama & Goem,
then go for a wet walk along the waterfront. Must sleep before show... The
5-7 brings Toronto's Dumb Unit label. Jeremy B. Caulfield, a.k.a Lotus,
opens with a DJ set,
followed by Matt and Mark Thibideau (Matt=Altitude), finishing off with
Jacob Fairley playing and singing sans shirt. The final event of the
festival kicked off with the UK’s Mathew Herbert, accompanied by vocalist
Dani Siciliano and Phil Parnel on piano. Herbert sampled live various sound
sources, including destroying a Gerri Halliwell CD, breaking glass bottles,
and for the final encore, the audience going “aaah.” Fairly mellow,
brilliantly executed: the top of my head tingles. Germany's Dimbiman takes
over with Perlon style dub-techno + live vocals. I enjoy, but anticipation
has got the better of me: Thomas Brinkmann. He takes to the stage behind a
multitude of gear: 2 turntables, 2 pitch-controllable CD players, isolator,
2 efx units, drum machine, sequencer, & a sampler.  My head and the crowd
quiet in anticipation. Clicks. Layers and layers of clicks: vertigo.  He
remixes his recent release, "Klick,” produced with the use of rhythmic
patterns cut into the runout grooves of records. Bass feedback. It's good to
hear mistakes in the almost too perfect world of digital music. From clicks
to techno: “Karyn” plus more Max/Ernst releases, "Soul Center" funked to
destruction. I'm spent. There's no way I can stay on for the dj-machine
Villalobos, providing even more music for the throngs of chin stroking
micro-snobs (a term of endearment). I head to the airport fully satisfied.
[Note: tobias & ben last until 3am. The party went until noon.]


MATMOS: SURGICAL BEATS
By tobias v

Imagine this: a theatre packed to the gills, Matmos up front, a giant film
screen behind them. A hush descends upon the black-jacketed masses as MC
Schmidt runs a metal rod over his skin, picking up “chi” electrical impulses
that produce loud electrical zing sounds. Drew Daniel mixes it in live with
beats to form “Ur Tchun Tan Tse Qi,” an experimental house track from their
new album, A Chance To Cut Is A Chance To Cure. Meanwhile, microsound artist
Richard Chartier films the action close-up, blowing up Schmidt’s skin to
sickening proportions on the screen. Then the rat cage: a contact mic is
attached, and the sounds are beautiful plucks and vibrations. With bravado,
Schmidt pulls out a violin bow and the souls of dead rats wail from the
metal bars. Matmos are serious looking; Schmidt is deadpan, and Daniel only
sneaks a smile when his back is turned. Everyone is standing to get a good
look, nodding to each other with silly grins. Like Herbert, the performance
is marred by technical problems including feedback on some intricate
slide-guitar work by Schmidt, but they work through it and the “live”
aspect—somewhat of a novelty for “electronic” music—heightens the
experience. I talked to Matmos over the phone from the NYC Matador office.
Despite numerous phone problems and a lost sheet of questions on my part,
Matmos politely continued to answer my belligerent pestering.

I started off by mentioning Kid 606’s latest comment in DiSCORDER bashing
minimal techno as the “lowest common denominator” of electronic music (“What
about trance?!?” I thought). Matmos responded along the lines of “people in
glass houses…”, and we went on to discuss the state of minimal techno and
IDM today.

Drew: Too often, with IDM production I hear now-a-days, it’s a plateau.
There is no development, no movement. There aren’t little themes or subsets.
There’s basically beats and noises for 6 minutes, then you’re done. That
sense of moving through the time of a song like moving through someone’s
house, going from one room to another, where there’s some continuity and a
personality—there are all parts used for different things—I’m more
interested in song shapes that have that kind of movement…Scott Heron’s
tracks I really like…

So with that in mind, we moved onto the new album: A Chance To Cut Is A
Chance To Cure. All of the sounds are from various surgical apparatus, live
surgeries, rat cages, acupuncture machines…certainly this is not minimal
techno.

Discorder: Why surgery?
Drew: It’s personal. My father and stepmother are both plastic surgeons. So
there’s an element of speaking with something that has been around me my
whole life—but exploring it through music, trying to turn it into sound,
which is something that I can control and use. There’s something aggressive
in it, a cartoon version of what your parents do for a living.

Discorder: Are you fans of David Cronenburg?
Drew: I am, Martin is not. (Martin, distant: He’s a hack!) I really like
Crash and Videodrome. I was really annoyed with the adaptation of Naked
Lunch, because the way he handled Burrough’s sexuality seemed really
confused to me.
Discorder: What about Dead Ringers?
Drew: I haven’t seen it, Martin has, and he regards it as a very sexist film
(Martin: HAaaAATED IT!) I think there are a lot of people using the sort of
fetishism of medical technology as scary in very simplistic ways—look at
Marilyn Manson’s work…I think it’s just kind of cheap. People are already
afraid of medicine, so you aren’t really doing anything transformative or
interesting by making art that says “Wow! Medicine is scary.” For us, the
challenge was to use [medical] material but to make it move in other
directions.

At this point, I pick up on the fact that incessant sirens have been going
off for the duration of the interview. I wonder: are they playing samples?
Or is this “just another day in New York City,” as Daniel claims? I try to
chuckle, and Daniel says: “You can remix us, and make us say interesting
things.” So I did. THE SIRENS INCREASED. THINGS GOT LOUDER. They tried to
end the interview, then all of a sudden, the sirens stopped. Then, we got
into Herbert and his new album.

Drew: We gave Herbert the sound of Martin’s jugular vein for his new album
because it has this bodily theme, and I’m working on a remix of “the
audience” right now. He’s a very good friend at this point. Martin and I
were big fans of his work as Dr. Rockitt.

Now I began thinking: Herbert has his new musical “Dogma” style manifesto,
stating that, like the film manifesto, all sounds must be original, live,
etc. So I opened it up to theory.

Discorder: I am curious, you guys are very articulate about all of this…is
there some sort of theory behind the body focus?
Drew: There was no theory before the record was made. But I am a graduate
student, I studied Philosophy, and now I am getting my PhD in Renaissance
Literature. Martin works at the San Francisco Art Institute in their
Performance and Conceptual Art Department. So we’re both from an academic
context but I don’t think we’re wearing that hat when we’re making Matmos
tracks. But often we are wearing that hat when we are explaining Matmos
tracks…There is a methodology, a working approach, and the theory is
something that I can go into, but I don’t like to do it for the listener
because it seems to look like special pleading, like you are forcing your
art to mean certain things. And it often looks like something is supposed to
be some sort of crux or justification for the work, and I don’t like that
relationship. I guess the theory for us goes into the discussion of what the
liner notes will be. We’re making decisions about how much information
people will need, and how that information will change what they hear. But
there isn’t an explicit position that we’re taking.
Discorder: Do you see yourself as a part of a tradition of artists, going
back the past 20 years, who are taking up the body as a site of art, a site
of protest?
Drew: Yeah, and for me, a lot of the art I find interesting is the extreme
body-art of the ‘70s. People like Gina Paine, or the Vienna Actionists test
social limits of what is acceptable, and the property of the body, ownership
of the body with what they did to themselves and also to the nature of the
institutions of which the art is consumed, by bringing very personal and
intimate bodily experiences and events into a gallery museum. I think our
milieu is quite different from theirs in that we make records that are
portable, that aren’t tied to any particular institutional space. We aren’t
insisting on our bodies in the ways that [for example] pop stars do. Pop
star product is in a weird way closer to ‘70s performance art as it insists
on Jennifer Lopez’s breasts, and on her body and on her face. The
facelessness of our music, it’s literal, on the picture of ourselves on the
new record our faces are concealed. We’re using sound rather than image,
that’s the big cut-off, that we aren’t relying on the experience of
recognition you have when you see a performance of someone doing something
extreme to their body. Instead, you are hearing it as sound and I think that
changes it quite a bit…how your imagination completes it.

Now, having seen the performance, I question this. MC Schmidt seems to be
the submissive one, subjected to the various physical processes during their
live, and very visual, performance at Mutek. His face and skin were blown up
on the screen; and many recent publications have been running a photo of the
duo with surgery marks on their faces. Contrary to the music, the visual
aspect of Matmos is as enthralling, if not more so. Despite their attempts
to escape the visual element of the body, they have only ended up
reinforcing it. How to listen to this album, then? Daniel says that the
optimal listening condition is that of his father: he plays it in his
operating room. Daniel’s father is a cosmetic surgeon.

Matmos: “We love your station.”


TALKING TO TOMAS JIRKU: HE’D NEVER EAT ICECREAM AND BOXERSHORTS TOGETHER
By tobias v

Tomas Jirku’s fame is growing like a rhizome as an internationally
recognised minimal techno composer. Jirku combines dub elements with
haunting rhythms to reconstruct a sound which, although it borrows from
Cologne and San Francisco, is distinctly his own. Mutek saw the launch of
Substractif, the new Alien8 offshoot focusing on electronic minimalism that
features Toronto’s Jirku and Montreal’s Mitchell Akiyama at the forefront. I
had a chance to discuss Technotronic, minimalism and raving with Jirku over
email.

Discorder: First: your obsession with Technotronic. Any story behind it?
[Discorder point-of-info: when Jirku played live in Vancouver, he remixed
several Technotronic classics]

Tomas: I've recently been able to appreciate that kind of techno again since
contemporary techno has become so devoid of melody and vocals. My early
musical tastes were shaped by groups like The Shamen, Technotronic, 808
State, etc. So when I throw some remixes of my favourite old techno tracks
into my live sets, it's nostalgic for me and anyone in the audience with a
similar appreciation.

Discorder: A maddening question, but: what gear/software do you use?
Especially with the Variations cd on Alien8. Some of the sounds (especially
their processing) are extremely haunting.

Tomas: I will only say that my production is done entirely on PC. Source
samples from my recent productions have mostly been culled from my favourite
funk and pop tunes, and then processed to such an extreme degree that the
original is indiscernible.

Discorder: What would you say if someone called your music "minimal techno"?
Are you a "techno" producer?

Tomas: I wouldn't object, it's a healthy genre to be associated with. But
when I'm producing I have "house" on my mind rather than "techno," I like to
keep things a little bit more funky than techno usually allows.

Discorder: Would you call yourself a post-raver? What scene did you come out
of, if any?

Tomas: I have some raving in my past, but whole drug culture turned me off.
And though I've been exposed to lots of music I've never really felt
connected to any "scene." My tastes are too broad for me to narrow in on
something.

Discorder: What constitutes a "live" performance in the age of laptop
artists?

Tomas: If the person performing can take credit for the production of the
music, then it's live to me. I don't need too be distracted by someone
twiddling a whole bunch of knobs to be convinced that it's live, so as long
as my ears are stimulated, I don't see a need for a multimedia/multisensory
display. Though there seems to be a need/market for a DJ, I appreciate a
live performance for the fact that you see the producer and that respect for
the music is given where it's deserved. I've always felt that DJ culture
directs a whole lot of unwarranted credit to people playing records.

Discorder: Does your music attach itself to a certain sort of politics, or
thinking/thought?

Tomas: I don't connect myself to philosophies or politics. I prefer to think
of my music as an exhibition of my aesthetic ideals, and to attach myself to
something would only constrain me. And while minimalism is a pleasant
aesthetic, it appears to have saturated our culture to the point where it
has lost all context and meaning.

Watch out for upcoming releases on Klang, Algorithm’s Revolver, Traum, and
the LP Immaterial on Substractif.