Although they may not realize it, high school students are in incredibly unique circumstances. They have a general comprehension of the occupational process and the basic decisions that mold their future, but their current ideology is often restrained by a state of indecisiveness that makes both their appearance and ambitions a variable that can change at any moment. Unlike adults whose career paths are already defined or children that have little grasp of reputational or occupational advantages, high school students have the privilege of using their sociological and educational experience to actively pursue their most ideal future occupation without it being a detriment to their current standing. This is the primary reason why high school reunions can be so fascinating. Learning that the stereotypical loner developed into a profitable “people person” or that the arrogant prom queen was too embarrassed to show up are just a few examples of the dramatic parallels that end up often occurring. With outcomes like these, predicting someone’s future in high school is impractical due to high range of flexibility that one has in defining who they are as a person. This leads to all sorts of analysis; if I were forced to choose the “group” in high school that held onto their beliefs most durably after their graduation, it would have to be the “artsy” types. Whether in the form of music, painting, or photography, it seemed to me that students who devoted most of their free time to an art made it such a part of their life that abandoning it at any time in their future would be unrealistic.

How this ideology is embedded within the general practice of artistry is commendable, as exhibited by artists that we universally deem as influential. Great artists are often so consumed with their work that not creating art in their field is nearly equivalent to starving for them. If you put a canvas and paintbrush in front of an avid painter and told him not to paint, he would likely rather be told not to eat. Although they may have been classified as “those kids that dress in black and listen to weird music” in high school, the two members in Home Video are further proof of this ceaselessly productive ideology embedded into artists. David Gross and Collin Ruffino met in a high school art class, found an instant connection over the topic of art, and instantly began their collaborative process involving art. Ruffino was one of those kids that wore black and listened to ‘90s alt-rock staples like Smashing Pumpkins and Nine Inch Nails, while Gross was a classically trained pianist who had been sheltered from any type of music created during the twentieth century. Their first collaborative artistic venture was a film that Gross starred in and Ruffino directed, but their musical intentions soon became mutual after Ruffino introduced Gross to contemporary music. Sometimes an artist just needs to be stimulated with a little modernistic relevancy to bring out his true form, and this is exactly what the duo did for each other during the developmentally vital stage of high school.

A sheltered classical pianist and a fan of dark alternative-rock is an interesting mixture to say the least, but it was the similar artistic ideologies of Gross and Ruffino that molded the connection between them and brought them recognition less than ten years after their first art class together. Ruffino had showed Gross that contemporary pop music could be just as emotionally ardent as classical music, and Gross’ natural music ability aided Ruffino when the duo eventually decided to form their own project. Ruffino was wise enough to show Gross a variety of now-legendary albums like Radiohead’s OK Computer and Massive Attack’s Mezzanine, exhibiting a mixture between rock, pop, and electronica. College saw the two separate for a bit, with Gross in Boston studying music and Ruffino in New York studying film. Like all good friends though, they hung out during breaks and continued to write music together from time to time. Once the rush of college had subsided, Gross moved to New York and the duo began creating their first material for Home Video. Their first two EPs, That You Might and Citizen, captured the attention of Warp Records, one of the most prominent labels in all of electronic music. That an extremely prestigious label like Warp released their debuting EPs was simply indicative of the great potential that Home Video exhibited through their ethereal interpretation of electro-rock.

After Home Video’s EPs and their single, “That You Might”, began to attract considerable acclaim in the UK, the recognition started to carry over to the US as well. In addition to being featured in Rolling Stone, they toured with a variety of acts like Blonde Redhead, Justice, and Crystal Castles. Home Video’s debut full-length, No Certain Night Or Morning, was released in 2006 and featured plenty of promising material, but most audiences were still waiting for Home Video to capitalize on their undeniable potential. Seeking the transition that would satisfy fans who were aware of their talent, Home Video took a three year hiatus between the release of their full-length and this year’s release, It Will Be OK. Looking to acquaint listeners with their stylistic progression before the release of their second full-length, the four-track EP is available for free on their web site. As Home Video must have intended, the result is a magnificent leap forward. While their past material may have encompassed too many clichés to separate them from the rest of the electro-rock world, It Will Be OK appears to be Home Video’s first major step forward. The instrumentation never reaches points of startling complexity, but the gradual build-ups and subtle melodic alterations that the duo infuse into each song results in a highly memorable release that takes advantage of their electro-oriented sophistication without ever sounding too overbearing or desperate.

“I Can Make You Feel It”, the EP’s opener, is immediately indicative of Home Video’s growth. I doubt you can find a review that does not compare Ruffino’s vocals to Thom Yorke’s, but instead of the desperate imitation that was occasionally prevalent on Home Video’s past releases, his approach here sounds more natural and adjusted toward Home Video’s assortment of evolving percussion, gradual synth accompaniments, and subtle implementations of guitar. The melodic harmonizing within Ruffino’s multiple vocal layers is what establishes this song as one of their best yet, as the conclusion that sees an appropriate piano accompaniment cap off the song’s most consummate chorus is arguably the EP’s most uplifting moment. All of the tracks on It Will Be OK are hardly complex, and an effort like “You Will Know What to Do” remains reminiscent of the driving pulse present in minimalism. “Every Love That Ever Was” is notable for containing the most pure form of synth-pop on the album, even to the point where comparisons to Junior Boys are realistic. The arpeggio during the chorus may not serve as the most innovative in the duo’s repertoire, but it certainly does enough to get the listener’s emotions running; it is an attribute that Gross deemed impossible in pop music before he met Ruffino, but now both are crafting the formerly impossible. Because of this focused ideology, Home Video appear to finally be living up to their potential as songwriters and stylistic innovators. If this EP is any indication, one can expect Home Video’s second full-length to be the album that breaks them out in a big way.

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Home Video – I Can Make You Feel It

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Home Video – Every Love That Ever Was

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Home Video – You Will Know What to Do

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More often than not, categorizing Röyksopp into the subgenre of downtempo electronica can be an accurate choice. “Chill-out music” is a simplistic and linear term that some may scoff at, but there is no denying Röyksopp’s importance within the fledging music subgenre that gained prominence in the late ‘90s and early ‘00s. In 1996, Air’s Moon Safari was one of the first heralded releases to utilize this downtempo ideology without dwelling exclusively on trip-hop or IDM, opening up boundaries for electronic artists that tired of choosing between bass-pumping club mixes, percussive trip-hop, and the form of IDM that was ushered in by Warp Records in the early ’90s. They may not have been the first to revolutionize electronic music and its eventual implementation into forms of rock, pop, and other genres, but their 2001 debut, Melody A.M., broke new ground in its cohesive adaptation of electronica’s new image. They integrated the lush, synthesized ambience of Boards of Canada within the pop-minded sensibilities of Air, resulting in a style of downtempo electronica that was able to remain vivid and serene while simultaneously emitting a series of pop-centric hooks and sharp production that made their placements in clubs or commercials hardly startling. In escaping from the countless number of electronic subgenres and rash stereotypes, Röyksopp made a name for themselves with an astoundingly unique style in their first attempt at innovation.

Four years after the release of Melody A.M., the Norwegian duo underwent a considerable stylistic transition within their own previously presented form of downbeat electronica. The Understanding showcased a more restrained version of Röyksopp despite their higher emphasis on dance music. The most glaring difference between both albums, though, was the addition of vocal performances. As it turned out, this was the primary result of The Understanding’s weaker reviews, as critics often found the duo’s focus to be decreased as a result of vocal additions that often seemed forced or detrimental to a song’s structure or tone. The Understanding had its highlights, but most fans of Röyksopp yearned for an album that traced back to the instrumental tendencies of Melody A.M. while showing their new adoration for dance-like vocal accompaniments in a more cohesively expansive form. The Understanding lacked the overall ambitiousness of Melody A.M. with arrangements that were more repetitive and predictable despite their melodic nature. To release an album where the sporadic vocal highlights of The Understanding were infused within the experimental keyboard-led instrumentation of Melody A.M. would presumably be the best of both worlds for fans. And while integrating the otherworldly concepts of Melody A.M. is a certain challenge, fans should be delighted with the presentation on Röyksopp’s third and newest album, Junior.

Taking another four years between the releases of consecutive albums, Röyksopp have infused an impressive introspective within the material on Junior. Although much of the material will prove readily accessible to those that have never heard of the duo before, those considerably familiar with Melody A.M. and The Understanding will likely discover a sense of satisfaction that exceeds the initial listens of Röyksopp’s first two albums. The reason for this lies in Röyksopp’s gathered experience, which has consequently allowed them to fuse the stylistic successes of both albums together. Many longtime fans will hold “Vision One” in very high regard, as it practically epitomizes the duo’s growth in the last several years. What begins as a serene trickle of high-pitched keys eventually transitions into a dance-charged series of flexible synths, complemented by the enchanting vocals of Anneli Drecker. At this point, both phases of Röyksopp are present in their execution of vocal-led dance and synthesized experimentation. The vocal harmonies are conventional and accessible, with the plethora of accompanying synths and percussion changing virtuously in unpredictable form. After the vocals subside, shades of Melody A.M. are brought to the forefront with a series of synth solos that last for several minutes to conclude the song masterfully. Although “Vision One” is a remake of Eri Nobuchika’s “Sing a Song”, the ample amount of original content makes it one of the best representations of the album’s style.

Mixing and matching an array of past styles can potentially impact an album’s flow and diversity, which is another reason why Junior serves as a tremendous accomplishment. The outstandingly infectious “The Girl and The Robot” is perhaps the album’s most radio-ready track, bursting with sci-fi allure and arpeggiated glee. With vocals by Robyn, it is one of the efforts on Junior most reminiscent of the conventionalized vocal dance on The Understanding, but exceeds all previous attempts because of Robyn’s pure ardency and Röyksopp’s sharp production of strings, synths, and alternating timbre. “Happy Up Here”, the album’s opener and first single, is similar in its ceaselessly excitable nature, using a Parliament sample over chirping keys and buzzing synths. While a few clever alterations tend to minimize the repetitiveness of the overall effort, it proves to be fun but little more than that. In fact, it stands as one of the most linear tracks on the album, but still is a wise opener considering its accessibility and the overall depth of Junior. But when one compares either of these two tracks with the excellent “You Don’t Have a Clue”, the listener should gain an immediate perception of Röyksopp’s strength as songwriters and producers.

Contrary to the sunny-day escapades of “Happy Up Here” or the effervescent sci-fi musings of “The Girl and the Robot”, “You Don’t Have a Clue” succeeds with tonal resurgences that are haunting, exotic, and delicately interwoven. Anneli Drecker once again shows why Röyksopp keep bringing her back with a phenomenal vocal performance. Appropriate for a rainy day, the mixture of trickling keys, operatic backing vocals, and the somber strings that conclude them all craft an elegant composition with no rival on the album in terms of sheer melodic presence. When Drecker allows her vocals to become reflective of the backing instrumentation toward the conclusion of “You Don’t Have a Clue”, the hook is both chilling and profoundly brilliant. Once again, it is a remarkable display of Röyksopp’s juxtaposition of synth-pop, dance, and IDM. In addition to Robyn and Drecker’s cameos, Lykke Li also proves versatile “Miss It So Much” with her soft-spoken delivery and Röyksopp’s wise decision to make the track as similar to the highly melodic, sparkling form of Swedish electro-pop as possible. In comparison, Karin Dreijer Andersson’s tracks remain slightly reminiscent of her own projects (The Knife, Fever Ray) with a fast tempo. Unfortunately, neither “Tricky Tricky” nor “This Must Be It” stack up to the album’s other tracks due to the former’s forced demeanor and the latter’s repetitiveness. Regardless, Junior succeeds immensely due to Röyksopp’s undeniable growth as songwriters. They have always had sharp production, but the cohesive stylistic direction that Junior has taken results in it being one of the most memorable electronic releases of the year. We can only hope Röyksopp’s fourth album, Senior, will have a similar allure when it is released this fall. 8.5/10

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Röyksopp – You Don’t Have a Clue

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Röyksopp – The Girl and the Robot

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Röyksopp – Happy Up Here

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The post Röyksopp – Junior (2009) appeared first on Obscure Sound: Indie Music Blog.

You would be hard-pressed to find a successful contemporary musician who disregards classical music entirely, as numerous components remain a steady influence on the various forms of music we listen to today. I doubt anyone would dismiss it as irrelevant, but there is certainly a difference between appreciating something and enjoying it. Even if one holds a strong interest in music, the chance of them undertaking classical studies has become minimal as of late, especially with the accessible usage of technology allowing for various stylistic forms of music to be at the fingertips of anyone who desires to explore different methods and styles within the art form of music. It can also prove extremely helpful in learning an instrument, with some intricate programs even allowing one to self-teach or read notation entirely on their own without an aid. Back in the days before the internet and MP3 players though, learning an instrument often consisted of teachers cramming bits and pieces of classical composers down the throats of students; it is certainly a vital and influentially effective technique for some, but others have such a degree of preeminent originality that it can prove futile. For others, a bit of technological aid can help invigorate a sense of compassion for older types of music (like classical) that would have been otherwise passed over as a mundane aspect of the music curriculum.

Ben Jacobs grew up learning how to play the piano like many other children in the ‘70s and ‘80s. Being forced to study classical works in order to play them was a common theme for him, but the London-based songwriter found himself more enamored with music that was emitted from television and adverts than the type of music that he saw as little more than music created by dead composers. He certainly had a grasp on the historical relevancy and musical importance of the genre, but he simply could not find much appeal in it when he realized that he was not going to be composing modern classical music for the rest of his career. Taking note of his knack for contemporary musical trends, he purchased the then-new technology of the Commodore Amiga 500 along with some music software. Finding a solace in writing songs within a form of technology that he felt allowed for more flexibility and originality, Jacobs honed his skills for several years before he started putting out material under the name of Max Tundra. His debut release, the two-song Children at Play, was released in early 1998 after the tolerant Warp Records heard Jacobs’ fascinating mixture of electronic elements, primarily a fusion of various synths and bass lines that bordered on minimalism on each of the 12-minute tracks.

According to Jacobs, the only label who initially was interested in his music was Warp despite sending it to over 50 other labels. “Most people freaked out,” he explains. “A couple of guys made the bizarre criticism that I had too many ideas.” While this may have been occasionally true on early releases like Children at Play and the handful of subsequent EPs, he demonstrated his true ability after signing to Domino Records in 2000 when he released his debut full-length, Some Best Friend You Turned Out to Be. Receiving universal acclaim for its eclectic use of electronic pop and IDM, the result found Jacobs’ results to be considerably more cohesive when compared to his earlier efforts with standouts like “Cakes” and the minimalistic “The Balaton”. His second album, Mastered by Guy at the Exchange, saw his electronic arsenal expand even more, utilizing newly implemented instrumentation like horns and guitars over experimented genres like funk and jazz. Though early fans of Jacobs recognized him for his astute use of synthesizers, his skills as a multi-instrumentalist have also become prevalent as of late. Proficient at playing guitar, violin, trumpet, bass, and drums (just to name a few), he shows no reluctance to incorporate instruments that would otherwise sound out of place in the world of electronic pop. And once again on a new album set to be released on October 14th, his innovative songwriting and high level of production allows everything to fit with commendable precision.

Jacobs’ third full-length release under Max Tundra, Parallax Error Beheads You, is impressive in several formats. First and foremost, he appears fully confident within a style that remains wildly unique to his intended format. Incorporating a sense of softly tuned synth-pop in the vein of Scritti Politti with elements of glitch-pop and IDM, Jacobs’ stylistic range is all over the place in complementary form. “Will Get Fooled Around” begins with a conventional guitar lick as several warbles of synth emerge under the distorted textures. As he implores about finding worthwhile women on namedropped sources like Google, eBay and MySpace through concisely catchy rhythmic and melodic spurs, one can’t help but fall for Jacobs’ technological charms. As a proud student of the musical technology revolution, he makes proper use of computerized ability in both his lyrical and melodic content. “Which Song” sees his songwriting ability in fuller form as he relays a variety of shrilly engineered synths over bursting synth pads and looped rhythmic propulsions. When he heightens the pitch of his voice in accordance to a newly added synth line, a hook is established and the listener cannot help but feel a sense of electro-pop satisfaction. “The Entertainment” is more reminiscent of conventional synth-pop with several characteristics of western pop ideologies peaking through. It succeeds remarkably well though, even if it serves as arguably the most simplistic track on a release full of intricately effective ones. As for the bulk of Parallax Error Beheads You, I find it to be Jacobs’ most fulfilling release yet, much in part due to his sharpened experience and augmented stylistic capacity in the realm of electronic pop.

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Max Tundra – Which Song
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Max Tundra – Will Get Fooled Again
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Max Tundra – The Entertainment**

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**TRACKS REMOVED UPON REQUEST OF ARTIST**

The post Parallax Error Beheads Max Tundra appeared first on Obscure Sound: Indie Music Blog.