Without question my favorite musical act of all time is Underworld. They would have to commit genocide or cover a Britney Spears song for me to stop liking them (well, I’d probably find some way to rationalize one of those—I’m not going to say which). Dubnobasswithmyheadman and Second Toughest in the Infants are always good for a couple dozen plays on my iPod every year, and despite being over 15 years old, they still sound fresh. I found the Dirty Forums sometime in the early ‘00s when I started to dig deep into their work, and I became friends with hundreds of fans across the world, even developing some actual friendships. The first time I saw them perform live in Denver ’07 was like a religious experience for this very non-religious person. My many late nights of staying up listening, adoring, reveling in their music had honed my ears to recognize each song from that concert within a few notes. When I was able to, I’d catch their online radio broadcasts that catered to us hardcore fans, and I turned into a giddy schoolgirl when Karl Hyde read my questions in that amazing speaking voice of his. And I even isolated those questions of mine he spoke into individual mp3 files that I still have.
Yes, I am a total geek or nerd or whatever-you-want-to-call-me when it comes to Underworld. I can’t help it, really. I remember first hearing “Cowgirl” over (…holy crap…) ten years ago and being blown away by it. Up until that point, I had never heard a song like this, the typical four-minute pop song format blown apart for something completely different and original. There wasn’t a structure, at least not one I recognized, but my patience in listening to the eight minute song paid off, and I was hooked. I am always excited to hear new Underworld music, seeking it out from whatever obscure British radio program had played those glorious new sounds.
Until now. After a few listens through Underworld’s new album Barking, I am simply lost for words. The conceit was that each track would be a collaboration with another artist, that Karl and Rick Smith would work on a song and have another artist tweak it in some way. And I don’t know quite what to make of this. Some tracks like “Bird 1” and “Always Loved A Film” work pretty well, but the rest just lose me. There doesn’t seem to be any structural framework to this album. Unlike Second Toughest in the Infants, there’s no cohesion. I could listen to one track at a time and feel satisfied (to an extent, assuming the song is any good), but going from start to finish feels disjointed.
But the biggest problem here is nowadays I don’t know what Underworld sounds like. Yes, I know collaborating with nine different artists is going to produce nine different sounds, but each song has a common denominator: Rick and Karl. Especially on Barking, they sound like they’re trying to imitate other artists. I feel like I’m listening to other artists albums where Karl is singing as a guest. I felt the same way with their previous album Oblivion With Bells but to a lesser extent (as they didn’t collaborate with someone on every song). That album still sounded like Underworld at times (i.e. “Beautiful Burnout” and “Best Mamgu Ever”), but the rest felt like their half-baked attempts at experimentation.
This is not to say Underworld can’t experiment with new sounds and try something else—far from it. That’s one of the reasons I gravitated towards them. They weren’t like anyone else I had ever heard before, and to this day, Pandora has a tough time finding songs that sound like them. Their early work is still some of the most inspired, layered, and amazing music I have ever heard or will ever hear. Karl’s stream of consciousness lyrics turned his voice into another instrument, and despite their seeming randomness, those words evoked strong emotions that require deeper exploration into their meaning. From 1992 to 1996, they weren’t just on top of their game, they were ahead of everyone else’s game by at least ten light-years.
So what has changed since then? Well, they’ve obviously gotten older. They’re in their 50s and have turned into elder statesmen of electronic music. Karl overcame his battle with alcoholism, which may or may not have something to do with it. I don’t want to ascribe too much to this point since I think it’s a cliché, and I don’t buy into the drugs-produce-great-art theory. But the elephant in the room is that Darren Emerson left after Beaucoup Fish. Unfortunately, I’m beginning to come around to this theory.
But there’s a few things that I still don’t know about this last one. First off, Beaucoup Fish was a pretty good album, but a steep drop off from Second Toughest in the Infants. Sure, it produced gems like “Cups,” “Push Upstairs,” and “Jumbo,” but the middle of the album isn’t as prolific or put together as the bookends. And as such I don’t find myself listening to Beaucoup Fish all that often. Second, A Hundred Days Off, the first album post-Emerson, was not a big of a thud as everyone thinks. It follows pretty much the same pattern as its predecessor; “Mo Move” and “Two Months Off” are amazing, and “Luetin” is phenomenal. Sure, it was more subdued, but it still sounded like Underworld.
Even if you disagree with that entire paragraph, there’s still the matter of “Pizza For Eggs.” This “single” (I don’t know what to call it) was 25 minutes of pure genius, on par with their early 90s work. It was everything Underworld was back then but new and amazing. For a brief time, it felt like they had returned to what made them great. Until Oblivion With Bells that is.
So where does this leave me? They are still my favorite musical artist. They’ve moved me and inspired me too much to remove themselves from that spot. Simply, I have too many good memories to outweigh these past few years. It’s like how I feel watching new episodes of The Simpsons; the show was so phenomenal for so many years, I can’t help but think good thoughts about it despite what it’s turned into now. And honestly, that’s not a bad position for them to be in.
the making of beaucoup fish was a fractious thing, and prompted darren emerson leaving underworld. he was cagey about it, but nevertheless strongly insinuated that rick was getting pretty controlling of the band, and that the album was a colder production that was made out of simply emailing each other different versions.
ReplyDeleteoblivion with bells wasnt so much experimenting as it was working off of an idea of what film scores meant to them. i still think it was a success, just turned out to be a bit boring in places. they seem to be preoccupied in not sounding like themselves in an effort to keep moving forward, but it's becoming increasingly apparent that not playing to their strengths quite directly results in getting out of their element. it's scary, it's fresh ideas for them, it's new, it's invigorating... aaaand none of that energy seems to make it to the end. they may resent getting pigeonholed but a large part of the last decade has been spent being a jack instead of a master.
plus, goddamn it, they're old. it's a frightening thing to throw this cliche around so recklessly, but unless you've spent a large part off your life telling everything to fuck off, you're probably going to do one thing past 40: refine your pre-existing ideas and scrub them of anything unpredictable. i mean, even when they're being unpredictable by releasing ibiza anthems ten years too late, it insists on this ever-brightening professional sheen that says "we're not hungry, we've been around long enough, and we want people to like this". the riverrun series, which sounds the most like "underworld" in the last ten years, was released only online, and under a shroud of insecurity, insisting these were "experimental". it wasnt experimental, it was just geared to no thing in particular. there was no theme or anxiety to sound perfect. it was a progression, as underworld, and it was fucking great.
i fully admit to this being second (third?) hand info, but if it's true, it says a lot: Steve Hall says camp underworld dropped the ball on the oblivion tour, and that this next one was going to be done properly. the early reports are that all setlists are the same. there's no tangents, no mixing, just what people want: the big guns. and they're going to give it to them because that's ultimately what makes a good show.
and before the less abstract of us try to call the first and second paragraph a contradiction: they try to not sound like themselves, while maintaining/refining the same production values. they try to not have the same ideas (hence the collaborators), but the results are never different enough to actually feel fresh. it's a contradiction in how they're developing, and that dissonance results in at least two albums that leave us a little baffled at some hypothetical opportunity wasted.
ReplyDeleteThey dropped the ball on the Oblivion tour how? The show I saw in Denver was excellent despite the venue change (which I don't think was necessarily their fault). If all the setlists are going to be the same, then man, that sucks. It's one of their hallmarks.
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