Tell us about the mix you’ve made for XOYO? Any exclusives or personal favourites on there?
“It’s just a real raw cut up of a few of my all time favourite records, mainly old hardcore stuff – I am, and always have been, obsessed with that stuff. It’s the music that still excites me more than any other i guess. I’d say Acen’s ‘Trip to the Moon’ is my all time favourite record by anyone, it’s just epic and totally insane so that had to be in there. I put Zomby’s ‘Strange Fruit’ in there as well because, although that’s a pretty recent tune, it has that same energy of those hardcore tracks, and properly stands up next to them – huge.”
What artists/labels are floating your boat at present?
“Machinedrum’s new thing on Luckyme is amazing; Krystal Klear – looking forward to everything he has coming. I mainly listen to old stuff though to be honest so I’m not totally up on everything right now. Been listening to Theo Parish’s ‘First Floor’ record on Peacefrog loads recently…”
Tell us about your latest projects?
“I have a mini album / EP thing coming out on me and Sean West’s Magic Wire label in November, just getting everything in place for that really. I did a track for the first Hoya Hoya record which is coming real soon. Other than that I’m just writing more tunes and playing shows as much as possible.”
Winter’s coming, what’s on the agenda?
“When I’m not playing shows I intend to lock my self away and stay as warm as possible and write an album, then go outside again when summer arrives.”
Tracklisting:
lone – untitled
galaxy to galaxy – jupiter jazz
machinedrum – carry the weight
altern8 – objective
lone – angel brain
blame – music takes you (2 bad mice remix)
polygon window – polygon window
drexciya – triangular oxygen strain
manix – special request
dj mink – hey hey can u relate
acen – close your eyes
zomby – strange fruit
acen – trip 2 the moon part 2
20 odd minute interview with Titch, currently serving a 30 year term for his alleged involvement in a murder… touches on Crazy Times 2, Dizzee, Jail and up & coming grime artists…
Blawan – Potchla Vee [Unreleased]
Rubi Dan – Pelvic Floor (Acapella) [Unreleased]
Mosca – Tilt Shift [Forthcoming Fat City]
Deamonds – Tilt Shift Crooks [Unreleased]
Keke Palmer – Super Jerkin’
Equinoxx – Infantry Riddim (Version)
T’Nez – Normal Day (Infantry Riddim)
Kemikal – Hear Mi Nuh (Infantry Riddim)
Navino – Put It On (Infantry Riddim)
Terre Thaemlitz – Radio Freedom
Ramadanman – Grab Somebody [Unreleased]
G.O.D Limited – Bounce
Kismet – Loose Screw [Unreleased]
DJ Deekline & Red Polo – Let It Bump (Hydroz Remix)
Menta – Sounds Of Da Future
Braiden – The Alps [Forthcoming Doldrums]
Seany B – Bass Release
DJ Technics – Hoody Hood Rat
Riva Starr – Maria
Funkystepz – Leave With You [Unreleased]
Dwongo Lab – 60 Seconds
Pariah – Crossed Out
Ramadanman & Midland – More Than You Know
Alison Hinds – Roll It Gal (Acapella)
Doc Daneeka – Hold On [Forthcoming Ramp]
T Williams – Drumstrumental [Unreleased]
Imran Khan – Amplifier
Frankie Bones – Beware
J2K Ft Roses Gabor – Don’t Let It Go [Unreleased]
Mosca – Brand New Polaroid
Loefah – Fire Elements
Jaimeson – Urban Hero
Darqwan – Confused
Tubby vs Footsie – Tiger Style
Joe – Digest
JME Ft Tempz – CD Is Dead (Acapella)
Youngstar – The Formula
TRC Ft Z.O & Bonez – Bang (DJ Q Remix) [Unreleased]
General LOK – Elmo Riddem
CRST – Dance (Mosca Remix) [Forthcoming No Hats No Hoods]
“Blawan: For starters I am not Ben UFO despite the kind rumors. My name is Jamie, I am a DJ/Producer originally from the cultural melting pot that is Barnsley and I recently had my debut release on Hessle Audio.”
Few releases this year have intrigued like Enter in Silence, the debut EP from mysterious dubstep collective LHF. Well, we say dubstep – their sample-drenched sound is rooted in the atmospheric half-step of classic DMZ, but also adopts the rough textures of jungle, the sun-kissed funk of Los Angeles and more. So who are LHF? FACT’s Robin Howells investigates, chatting to the crew about their background, their relationship with label boss Blackdown and their position in the UK’s dance music lineage.
On one level, LHF incarnate an archetype of London music. From Reinforced to DMZ, similar crews have operated by reflecting motivations and influences inward – doing it primarily for themselves, in other words, with the unit itself first in line to function as audience and DJ. There’s an argument – only more tempting with LHF as a case in point – that the results on the whole tend to be more intensely singular than those of contemporaries working alone. That connection isn’t this collective’s only one with their predecessors: others thread through their material, at their most visible weaving the kind of humid, oversaturated textures familiar from 4hero’s route to the jungle, or picking out parallels to dubstep’s early rhythmic forays.
If it seems dubious to point out such resemblances at the same time as calling LHF’s music singular, you could say it proves a talent on their part for paradox. Epithets such as ‘Keepers of the Light’, along with scattered voices sampled from cryptic sources, with a little imagination cultivate the image of some esoteric discipline under pursuit. And in practice, the crew do appear to engage subtle techniques, such as following the charts to cosmically itinerant hip-hop and jazz without quite having to say goodbye to planet Earth. If they had discovered the power of bodily teleportation instead, with the coordinates set to Metalheadz at the Blue Note, 1996, the mind would most likely come untethered somewhere in the region of Saturn or Los Angeles.
Long-term followers of dubstep have seen, with its rise to popularity, a part evacuation of the sphere that once served as its natural province. Something, of course, has been siphoned into its wake, although nobody knows what to call any of it (suggestions so far being disappointing pieces of terminology) and the direction if any is attractively uncertain. Curiously in this scenario, it’s rare to hear real dissonance – not necessarily in musical terms, but in the sense of a cognitive kick that can accompany the apprehension of sound, especially new rhythms, along underused pathways. LHF’s seven producers (all strictly pseudonymous) share a knack, though, for touching a nerve like this. Paradoxically again, the trigger is often a kind of distant but luminously familiar aura, amounting to an unusually ungarbled re-emission of the pirate spectrum’s cumulative radiation.
Although the group claims currently to guard a store of almost 1, 000 tracks, to date only three are fully available, on Martin Clark’s Keysound label. An album is apparently in the final stages, but until it appears, a series of all-LHF mixesavailable online is a well recommended introduction. It still feels as if its members’ creations are accustomed to resist exposure; but as it’s surely not because it isn’t deserved, we asked them for an illumination of some of the ingrained puzzles.
It seems like you keep things close to your chests: when you started distributing your Keepers of the Light mixes at the end of last year, they showcased a huge amount of material from the crew, as if it had appeared from nowhere at once. Is this a deliberate strategy?
Amen Ra: “It’s not a strategy, we just found it natural to keep it to ourselves at first. I grew up listening to pirates: certain times you’d just get a DJ playing a tune, no talking and certainly no tracklist. There was this unknown element to it which meant more possibilities for it in my mind. LHF is kind of like that. I think pushing what we’ve got would spoil it a little bit.”
Double Helix: “Strategy isn’t a word that I would use to describe the way that we’ve handled our material, it’s more about our ethics and the way we see our sound in relation to other music. If you look at it, pioneers of new sound have been doing it from day one, since the early sound system and pirate days. We kept our beats close for no particular reason other than to build something we could call our own, without conforming to the expectations and preconceptions that can come when you join a scene. LHF’s beat archive is the best part of 1, 000 tracks deep at the moment, 90% of which will probably stay unreleased, as there are new tracks built every week, but it’s really not an issue and we’re in no rush to get them out – this is the start for us and we’re continuing to build steadily.”
How were the tunes for the Keysound EP chosen?
Double Helix: “It’s been a gradual and invaluable process that we’ve been through with Martin, from the formulation of the album long list through to the selection for the EP. We sent a stream of material on disc for about two months consisting of beats we wanted to put forward and those that he had caught on the United Vibes show.”
Low Density Matter: “I think we owe a lot to the listening time invested by Martin into our music…I mean the man gets beats sent to him at a phenomenal rate daily, and he still found time to filter through what some might call a life’s work and others might call a complete nightmare!”
Amen Ra: “He’s helping us file our stuff properly, he’s been a pure blessing and I’m truly grateful for the knowledge he’s imparted and the vision that he has, ’cause without that LHF would still be a mess of different forces all trying to find some ground. Also there is the age old wisdom that you cannot see what you’re doing all the time without some reflections from the outside, and his reflection is pure. I can see how he’s connected the dots between different strands of LHF and I’ve learnt a lot about our sound through him.”
“Pioneers of new sound have been doing it from day one, since the early sound system and pirate days. We kept our beats close for no particular reason other than to build something we could call our own.”
Can you tell us a bit about yourselves, your backgrounds and how you came together?
Double Helix: “As friends we’ve known each other from as far back as 1989 and have always lived in close proximity. London pirates from across the dial were the building blocks of common ground for us. Swapping tapes of sets we’d recorded was standard practice. You know the deal: standing in the one spot in your room that has a good signal, using a coat hanger for an aerial out the back of an old ghetto-blaster. I’ve still got boxes of TDK D-90s from way back. Amen got his first set of decks when he was about 14, around the same time I got my first hi-fi separates system and since then we’ve recorded sets using kit we’ve accumulated over the years…dodgy belt drives with horizontal pitch controls that go to +/- 7, wobbly strobe platters, mixers with busted faders and crackly amps, we’ve had it all.”
Low Density Matter: “I came into contact with LHF on a musical level in 2007, but I’ve been going to raves with them for years. I was fascinated by the depth of sound that was coming from this one source – the mad tapestry of abstract melodies, diverse drum programming and crazy ideas around sampling just felt right to me, so I got into producing beats.”
Solar Man: “LHF had been on my radar for a while as we’ve got similar social circles, but after catching No Fixed Abode’s material I saw an avenue I felt I could express myself through which had never been open before. All those broken hip-hop styles mixed with mad jazz and all things different was totally me, so I started putting beats their way and working on tracks with Helix and Low Density Matter.”
Is it possible to explain what the expression “Keepers of the Light” means to you?
Amen Ra: “It was something I used to say a lot on the United Vibes show on Sub FM, especially when LHF beats were running – “The Keepers of the Light in session”. It’s not like we have meetings to say “hey, we should put this idea across”, it just seems to happen that certain ideas come to the fore. That’s why I say this thing feels like it has a will of its own sometimes. The light means many things. Mostly for me it is connected to illumination and forgotten wisdom. The light relates to our sound, there’s elements in there from the past that have been completely forgotten about, there’s an attitude in our music that doesn’t get represented any more. The light is the light that makes things new again: we can look at our history now and interpret it from where we are now; it’s not about looking back and saying “it was better back then”. The light allows us to do that, it illuminates the past in a pure way and allows us to see this moment more clearly and how we can apply history in a way that is useful now.”
Escobar: “I think it means something different to all of us because it’s a personal thing. It’s what you draw on at times of inspiration and creativity, where you go when you’re thinking deep. It’s that light which gets you through and clears the path when things are murky.”
“There’s definitely a lineage that we feel a part of, from the early hardcore, through to jungle, through to the Metalheadz era; through garage, grime and dubstep, especially when DMZ came around.”
People do seem to think your music strongly evokes certain precursors, for example the Metalheadz crew or DMZ. Who or what inspires you all?
Amen Ra: “Growing up I was all about jungle and hardcore from the age of about 12 or 13. I’m infected by a lot of that style, it won’t ever leave me! Also house and garage, 2step, all those old pirate sounds were all me. Broken beat sparked me massively and when dubstep started emerging that was a very deep time too, early FWD vibes. Everything I do comes through that filter. But I can’t deny my biggest musical influence, which is hip-hop. From hip-hop I got opened up to a whole world of music. I grew a deep love for free jazz, Brazilian music, psyche-rock – loads of stuff. The LA beat scene has to get a mention as well. I’ve been inspired by certain philosophers, writers and films too. The wider influences are all recorded in the music – the titles of the tunes, the samples.”
Double Helix: “The musical history that London’s streets and surrounding counties hold are important to me as an individual and a producer. I see the hardcore continuum as the UK’s gift to the world – its effect on the way that a massive cross-section of society interacts is huge and can’t be overlooked. Early jungle and breakbeat hardcore pioneers feature heavily in my record collection. Metalheadz 01-50 are quite possibly the most influential tracks that I own, and what Goldie did with Timeless and then Platinum Breakz Vol.1 is actually ridiculous. 90.6 FM under its many names was the home of two crews that without doubt had a massive impact on our sound, SLT and Bass Inject – they always came with new dubs on a weekly, nobody had the tunes they had and it was seriously fertile ground for music. Garage and the significant founders of the early movement that evolved from 2step into dubstep are seriously close to my heart… the beat patterns they came with were an eye opener as to what can be done at those tempos.”
Low Density Matter: “Ant Hill Mob, RIP, Groove Chronicles, Steve Gurley, Wookie, LTJ Bukem, Shogun, Nookie, Nubian Mindz… anybody that brings that warm, classic edge to production, the subtle tones that draw you in and take you into rainbow of deep vibes.”
Solar Man: “RZA, J Dilla, Miles Davis, Herbie Hancock, Santana, Portishead, Photek, Hidden Agenda, Flying Lotus, Kutmah, Burial… any artist or label that is happy to push boundaries and open up new avenues. I’m into big thinkers and music needs these people.”
If music from what’s often referred to as the hardcore continuum is important to a lot of you, do any of you feel some sense of descent from musicians in its past? Do you think it’s necessary to be familiar with it to understand your music?
Amen Ra: “Definitely, people who do not come from the continuum will have a different understanding of our music – just as valid an understanding as people who have come from there as I think there’s enough to cater for both. There’s definitely a lineage that we feel a part of, from the early hardcore, through to jungle, through to the Metalheadz era; through garage, grime and dubstep, especially when DMZ came around. But things aren’t like what they were in the past, they aren’t as rare and underground, so we kind of have to draw a line under them eras, while remembering them at the same time if that makes sense.”
Double Helix: “It’s almost impossible to avoid the impact of its sonic lineage when you’re exposed to those sounds and ethics from a young age – the way that they interact and resonate with London as a multicultural society becomes clearer the more you look, and it’s a really powerful thing . I don’t think that grass roots familiarity with the continuum is essential to experiencing our music fully, but there will naturally be far more reference points in tracks for people that grew up with the continuum.”
Low Density Matter: “I think it’s inescapable really: if you lived anywhere near the M25 corridor once it was built, no matter how old you were, the continuum would almost definitely have affected your life in one way or another – be it through friends giving you tapes, record shops opening, people talking about the convoys, picking up rogue pirate stations in the car or even the bad press about raves. We’re no exception. The FM dial was rammed full of pirates and a ridiculous cross section of music was on tap, so you naturally develop an affinity with those sounds over the years.”
Solar Man: “We take a lot of influence from styles that have a direct connection to the continuum, and some that have influenced aspects of it without being so obvious, so it’s open to listeners of all backgrounds really. If you check beats by Amen, Helix or LDM for example, elements of garage, jungle and house are all clearly present in the sound they produce, but they’re all fused and punctuated by bursts of Bollywood, jazz, hip-hop, soul and a variety of samples from many genres.”
No Fixed Abode: “You don’t have to be familiar with the continuum to understand our sound, but it helps: there’s definitely a certain understanding of the continuum required to truly get it, I think. I twist the traditional format and bring in other influences that other heads might find too risky, as it goes too far from “UK” shit. I don’t care, this is no time to play it safe and this ain’t the time for those who just stick to what is comfortable and keeps them “in the team”.”
“I think it’s inescapable really: if you lived anywhere near the M25 corridor once it was built, no matter how old you were, the continuum would almost definitely have affected your life in one way or another”
Are there specific aims in mind for any of you when you make music?
Amen Ra: “To experience that feeling that comes from understanding something new. That feeling of newness is something that I seek in every lab session. Approach it with a beginner’s mind!”
No Fixed Abode: “A beginner’s mind! I always go in with that beginner’s mind: just go wild, no preconceptions, just expressions. I want to reach places I didn’t reach on the last tune.”
Does this phrase, “beginner’s mind”, come from somewhere in particular? Non-musical influences have been mentioned, in the context of samples and titles. Can you give a few examples of what you’re into?
Solar Man: “If any subject matter or topic takes my interest I’ll read around it and most probably try to find a source of material to sample some related dialogue from. I listen to a lot of films and documentaries late night while drifting off to sleep – never really watching the visuals, more keeping an open ear for samples, as you’re in a different place at those times.”
No Fixed Abode: “I love aphorisms, really short ones that can make you think for days, that’s what it’s all about – “half long twice strong” as GZA says. Bruce Lee’s one inch punch is inspiring in that respect, ’nuff power concentrated into one short movement. There’s something really exciting and deep in that, it’s like a Zen Koan; I try make tunes like that. They don’t seem to have loads going on but slowly they get under your skin.”
Amen Ra: “The Beginners Mind thing comes from Zen, it’s an expression that really resonates with us. You know how people talk about “beginners luck”, well how does it work that someone trying something for the first time can sometimes be better than a so called “expert” in that field? Because the experts mind ain’t fresh or open so maybe it doesn’t see the thing as clearly as the beginner, and maybe it isn’t as flexible as the beginner’s mind. Approaching music in this way results in more interesting sounds I found. This attitude is what makes LHF difficult to approach for some people because there’s constantly new spaces being found and we don’t settle on any definition. As soon as I feel like there’s a definite idea forming about who we are, I naturally change my approach because I always want to feel that newness. LHF is evolving all the time because members are always turning on lights for other members to see more possibilities, it’s a constant exchange between all of us.”
“In reality, he ends up sitting around doing nothing. This speaks to me on so many levels, because I, like George, am a deeply lazy individual, hampered by my own neurosis; who overthinks things and drives himself to distraction in the process. So, given that it took me 12 months to come up with 7 tracks that I was happy to put my name to, coupled with the summer release, Summer Of Shortstuff seemed perfect.
It’s definitely NOT stating that this summer is all about me. The opposite in fact”
Accounts of Theo Parrish gigs often begin with the enigmatic DJ clearing the floor. The jazz, Afrobeat, dub reggae, and soul records he is known to drop tend to startle festivalgoers and dabblers who have come to expect nothing but four-to-the-floor from a dance DJ. Read on, though, and it turns out that just about every Theo Parrish set ends with minds blown and booties shaken, those experimental jazz cuts moving feet as ably as acid house bangers. Once hooked, you may find yourself going out of your way to hear the man spin. It seems likely that Parrish would occupy the role of DJ’s DJ, a selector and mixer whose dedication to the art is matched by few, even if he had never put out a record. But Theo Parrish has put out some records. Since his first release on Kenny Dixon Jr.’s KDJ, Parrish’s own Sound Signature has become a buy-on-sight label for even the most discriminating DJs and fans. Keeping subtle, complex, emotional deep house on the map for the past two decades, he has developed his style while maintaining a singular aesthetic. LWE recently checked in with Theo Parrish, finding him as busy — and as brilliant — as ever.
You recently reached a potentially new audience with your LCD Soundsystem remix, a combination that not many people might have expected. How did that come about? Do you think the prevalence of disco and house-based sounds that labels like DFA have engendered is a positive development for the music?
Theo Parrish: They hit me up and their approach was attractive; they said pick anything you want and sent the full album in parts. I don’t really recognize any current production as genre specific, so I hear a head nod and a wink to disco in their sound, but it’s the ethic — the DIY ethic. That’s where the value is.
You clearly have one of the deepest record collections around. Where are your favorite places to buy records?
I know a lot of people with a whole lot more, but I buy anywhere and everywhere. Some spots, depending on what I find, are my favorite that day after being dry for weeks. Some are account drainers, meaning they are rarely dry. Favorite cities with lotsa diggin’ possibilities for what I like: Chicago, Detroit, Minnesota, Toronto, Kansas City, Cincinatti, Osaka, Tokyo, London, Manchester, Amsterdam, Rotterdam, and Berlin. Just google local stores in those cities and go get your knuckles dusty.
The records you became known for early on were often sample-based and tracky, while you’ve since then experimented with vocals, group improvisation, and other techniques. How has your musical style evolved, in terms of your approach to production and your understanding of your own work?
I get bored very easily. I relied heavily on samples simply for lack of equipment. As I acquired more equipment the creative possibilities grew. I was sampling less and learning to play, and started to get to know some talented live players (like Jerry the Cat, John Douglas, Duminie Deporres). I had to try to keep up with them in the studio — and prerecorded stuff doesn’t change on the fly, you have to program it to — so the idea of being in the moment and learning about the ever-elusive pocket came when I was working with The Rotating Assembly. Those rehearsals had a large impact. It galvanized the theory of dedicated practice to build skill. I then found it limiting to sample larger blocks of music, so individual sounds, little bits, became more of what I would use for my sound pallette, and then less and less. Then I would only sample myself, and get drums from multiple sources: records, keyboards, live kit. Then I got tired of sampling altogether. That went into playing everything realtime and recording it. That was a big step, and don’t really expect to master that, just only improve. It’s currently what I wrestle with now, along with incorporating the methods I have a moderate grasp of already.
Some of your most recent releases have been vocal tracks, from 2008’s Chemistry to the most recent records with Bill Beaver and Danny Banks, and your DJ sets always incorporate soul and disco songs. Do you write words as well as music? How do you collaborate with a vocalist or instrumentalist?
Depends on the vocalist. With Bill Beaver, he comes up with lyrics off of the top of his head. First take. You better catch that first one, too. With Danny Banks, he had a written song, and all I had to do with was work on his phrase spacing. He’s so skilled, he was running all these backgrounds. Some idiot put it out there that there was AutoTune involved: No! No bloodclaat AutoTune in my studio! Blasphemer! Listen to the damn song. Anyway. For Genevieve Maranttette, I wrote “You Forgot,” “Split me Open,” and for Karen Bosco I wrote “Melt.” Lakecia Hughes came off the top for “Summertime Is here.” Monica Blaire, as on “They Say” and “Second Chances,” hears the song, then writes, and an hour later it’s laid down — efficient. Alena Waters offers solid suggestions in arrangement that always make sense to follow, that provides places for her to sing around and with. Very intuitive. As for the instrumentalists I’ve been blessed to work with, particularly John and Duminie, I just tend to give them adjectives. I can trust their taste.
The Leron Carson release on Sound Signature, while widely loved, has been shrouded in mystery. Who is he, and where did the music come from?
Leron is a lifelong friend from Chicago. We came up in the same area. We started making songs at 14 or 15 years old, almost every weekend until I went away to college. The songs I released by him had been on a cassette he gave me and were done in those early years. He’s always been a sorely overlooked talent.
You’ve had a residency at London’s Plastic People, which has been under threat of closure. As the trend moves towards giant superclubs, where have you found that the best parties takes place, and what makes them special?
You can’t judge a party before you get there, so it’s quite random. So many factors affect any given night. The issue with superclubs is the lack of intimacy. Smaller venues solve that, but it’s difficult to find smaller venues with powerful systems. A small club with a powerful soundsystem is always a good foundation. You have the intimacy, and a good system allows a wider range of songs to be presented outside of their percieved setting. The people have a chance to experience a wider range of emotional connection or repulsion.
The Three Chairs compilation CD, Spectrum, gave a lot of listeners a chance to catch up some hard-to-find records. Will there be more releases from the group in the future?
We shall see…
What else can we expect from Sound Signature in 2010?
Sketches. Sketches is a concept I came up with for some unreleased material I mastered without the songs being complete with all the elements. It was an experiment to force myself to get back to some basic production ethics I wanted to reacquaint myself with. It will be available only in Detroit for festival time, and I am only doing 150 copies and four separate pieces of vinyl, each one with a differently painted jacket. The only songs that may reappear on later 12″s this year are “Something About Detroit,” “Thumpasaurus,” and “Kites On Pluto.” I’m playing them out now to see which ones need more or can be released as is. Coming soon is the Sound Signature Sounds Pt. 2 compilation CD including Sound Signatures titles only available on vinyl from the catalog, and Translations, a CD comp of remixes and edits that are no longer available or previously unreleased.
Interview: Ade Fakile / Plastic People, Owner and Creator
Ade Fakile is the man to thank for London’s #1 nightclub, Plastic People. His widely adored venue, with a two-hundred people capacity, frill-free decor and much-revered soundsystem has been CDR’s home since 2004. Over the years Ade’s club has spoken for itself, however in a rare interview, he told us about his ongoing quest for acoustic distinction, sharing news that will leave Plastics’ devotees delighted.
As a teenager in Nigeria, Ade put his cassette tapes to good use by DJing at school parties. New Edition’s ‘Candy Girl’, the Mac Band’s ‘Roses Are Red’ and Timex Social Club’s ‘Rumors’ are a taste of the tracks he’d play to get girls dancing. Despite his tender age and limited resources sound quality was already so important to him he’d ensure his stop/start mixes had ear-pleasing key changes. Moving to London as adulthood approached he began collecting vinyl. “I was 17, I had money, I had time” Ade shares, “what do you do in the afternoons when you’ve got money and time? Go to Soho, go to record shops.”
Distracted by his studies, a chance encounter brought him back to the music. In the early-90s he’d regularly attend Fish, a club at 37 Oxford Street. Upon hearing it had closed, Ade checked for himself, asking the manager if it was true. “He said ‘yeah yeah, it’s closed down, but do you want to run it?’ I was like, ‘Yeah! Yeah, I’ll run it’. When I woke up that morning I wasn’t looking for a club.” Once the necessary funds were raised Ade stripped the place back to the walls and made the DJ box the focal point. “Active darkness” or no lighting gave extra presence, “I wanted people to feel safe but to pay attention to the sound. Like when you listen to something and close your eyes.”
Six years in the West End built Plastic People’s reputation as one of London’s best, certainly for sound, with the system meeting Ade’s requirements, “I wanted it to be loud, for you to feel it, and to be clear.” Unfortunately steep overheads came with the turf and when the lease expired in 1999, Ade sought to relocate. Scouring near his home in Hoxton for suitable spots, a friend found a music studio available in a basement on Curtain Road.
Unlike the original site, the new location needed to be built from scratch. Dividing the space in two, they constructed a bar area with cherry and “seven shades of grey” paintwork, and laid down American Walnut on the dancefloor. However, acoustically all was not right – low ceilings and alcoves either side of the DJ booth affected the sound. Fitting two-hundred microphones all around the room they took an acoustic picture, comparing waveforms sent in and out of laptops. Ade learnt that anything below 49 Hz was being disturbed by the room. After consulting public service engineer texts, two-inch foam was added across all the ceiling, chicken mesh replaced the grills in the air vents, and specially-made bass traps behind curtains in the alcoves solved the problem. Ready just in time for François K to play.
Contrary to some opinion, Plastic People’s venerated Funktion-One setup is not additionally tuned or modified, in Ade’s own words it’s “off the shelf”. He explains, “I don’t believe in adding extra bass or extra tweeters. I believe music should be played the way the guy that made it heard it in his own studio. All my setups for sound are not based on equipment, it’s based on the room. Putting an amazing two-million, ten-million, a billion pound soundsystem in a space is halfway there, you need to have an acoustically neutral room. That room must be treated, acoustically treated.”
Focusing on the auditory experience, Plastic People is the perfect location for CDR. Ade explains how the marriage came about, “Tony [Nwachukwu] didn’t even approach me, he just told me ‘We’re doing this.’! It kind of fitted in to what I wanted to do but went again one of my grains, which is I want to have 200 people who are likeminded about music, but by the nature of doing CDR, it won’t be continuous, it won’t feel like a clubnight. But that was a mistake on my part.” Having crafted such an acoustically correct space, CDR submitters get a pure airing of their work in progress, or as Ade says, “The room doesn’t have an impact on the sound, the soundsystem plays the record as it’s meant to be played.”
Not content with the already impeccable setup, Ade has long reminisced for the equipment his father used to have back in Nigeria. “The sound I can hear from that loudspeaker is still the sound I’m looking for today.” He informs, “It was such a perfectly neutral sound. It’s as if the top end never pieced through your head, the sound used to finish right by your ear. It never goes inside your head.” Long unaware that such clarity was unachievable with conventional PA-based drivers he learnt from his father (shortly before he passed away) that studio-based drivers are required.
“We’ll get something super, super accurate. Even more so than now.” Ade states, revealing his project to build an improved set of custom-made loudspeakers is underway. With the help of two friends, he plans to get his hands dirty, putting bass drivers, midrange and tweeters, from their respective top manufacturers, together in a 300litre box and installing it into the Curtain Road basement walls.
As the mouth-watering prospect draws closer, CDR remains an important part of Plastic People’s future, “I’m glad we’ve done it and we’ve done it for so long, and we’ll keep doing for so long” Ade concludes, “It drives me. Imagine the new loudspeakers, the first day we put them in, and the day we have the first CDR. Hopefully people will hear something that they don’t think they could have heard.”.
UPDATE: Since Ade met with us, Plastics have announced they’ll be shut for the Summer. Two months closure will allow for the space to be refurbished; floor and ceiling the likely candidates for a touch up. And there’s that new soundsystem to fit…
B: In the last 5 years, we’ve seen a seismic shift in the accessibility of online music and podcasts/MP3 recordings are now one of, if not the primary medium to carry new musical ideas. To me it seems to form a continuum where podcasts sit at one end, where their financial value has tended to zero, their audio quality is low, they ignore copyright and their accessibility is potentially unlimited. At the other end of that scale you have a physical mix CDs, which have a financial cost, are high audio quality, and can’t be easily distributed unless digitized. Given they respect copyright (and therefore incur all the financial barriers that creates) and given so many regular(non-producer) music fans are fairly oblivious to audio quality, what
makes you want to invest time and ideas a mix CD in 2010?
Click the picture to go straight through, its a really good read and a beautiful insight. Touching on everything from Peel, to Paxman to the Pistols and everything in between.
Brilliant insight to the pair over at FACT magazine…
Kevin Martin is best known for the piledriver ragga of The Bug, but there’s always been a sweetness lurking amidst the violence.
Over the last few years he’s sneaked out two jaw-droppingly subtle twelves with poet and singer Roger Robinson as King Midas Sound which have built up incredible levels of anticipation amongst those that know. The King Midas Sound album Waiting For You also features female vocalist/artist Hitomi and is about to drop on Hyperdub.
FACT caught up with Kevin and Roger in a Hackney cafe to talk about the album and reasoned with them about emotional intensity. We were joined briefly by Hitomi, who was midway through a mission to find a melodica for the forthcoming KMS gigs.
