Funkadelic – The Electric Spanking Of War Babies

Funkadelic The Electric Spanking Of War Babies

Warner Bros. 1981

Funk. The term has been rinsed thoroughly through the years — applied and mis-applied all over the shop on a seemingly loop — but at the end of the day, what is it really? The groove, hitting on the one, interlocking parts of a rhythm, all of them cycling in clockwork motion, players playing deep in the pocket all night long. Is it tight, is it loose, or somewhere in between? In attempting to answer that question, perhaps it makes sense to rewind to the man who dreamed it all up in the first place...

James Brown in impassioned performance
The Hardest Working Man In Show Business does his thing

Smack in the middle of the 1960s, James Brown released the epochal Papa's Got A Brand New Bag, a frisky bit of proto-funk that took the nimble soul shuffle of early records like Think and Night Train to its logical conclusion. With an agile rhythm that found Melvin Parker's beats seemingly dancing three feet off the ground, while the bassline (played either by Bernard Odum or Sam Thomas, depending on who you ask) hopscotches across the spaces in between, it set the template for funk proper that would be hammered home further in records like Mother Popcorn, Give It Up Or Turnit A Loose, all the way up to Sex Machine, The Payback and beyond.

James Brown famously rehearsed his band The J.B.'s mercilessly, even going so far as to dock a musician's pay if they made a mistake live! The result was perhaps the most tightly regimented rhythmic unit ever assembled, with a style that moved so far beyond precision that they somehow wrapped around into looseness again. In essence, he constructed a a perfect machine from a group of individual human players, an innovation that set the course for large swathes of music's development in the years to come.

Iconic image of Funkadelic from the Maggot Brain LP
Funkadelic at the dawn of the 1970s

George Clinton's Detroit-based empire slowly developed in parallel, off-record in the shadows of Motown's artist roster before exploding with the twin debuts of Parliament's Osmium and Funkadelic's self-titled LP in 1970. Picking up where artists like James Brown and Sly & The Family Stone left off at the tail-end of the sixties, both groups spiked their funk/soul strange brew with a healthy dose of acid. Records like Maggot Brain and Cosmic Slop were shot through with post-Hendrix psychedelia, adding a dirty edge to the proceedings that was in thrall to the times.

Kraftwerk performing live
Kraftwerk, on stage and deep in the groove

Seemingly on the flipside of the coin lies that other institution that would prove to be so crucial in the development of Detroit's nascent progressive scene: Kraftwerk. They're often placed on opposite ends of the spectrum, Kraftwerk and Parliament, machine music and funk, but the truth — as is so often the case — is far more messy than one might expect.

There's that oft-quoted remark from Detroit club kids that Kraftwerk were so stiff, they're funky. Then, you hear something like The Model and Sex Machine back to back, and the parallels between the two become striking. Both tracks glide three feet above the ground on the horizontal tension of tautly arranged components interlocking like clockwork: rolling rhythms finding joy in repetition.

Somewhere in all of that was the sound of the future...

Whole worlds would spring from this fertile nexus — from techno and g-funk to r&b and electro — in the years to come, post-disco realms of sound stretching out in every direction, dazzling in their strange shapes and oftentimes even their distance from each other. And yet if there's one record that embodies this point of intersection — and did so before the fact, even — then it's surely Funkadelic's The Electric Spanking Of War Babies.

Funkadelic performing live on stage as the Mothership looms in the distance
Funkadelic takes the stage 1980

The Electric Spanking Of War Babies is the final album from P-Funk's original run, the last stop before George Clinton's Computer Games (which made the connections between funk and the machine explicit), an album that it also presages in many ways. War Babies is the illogical conclusion to everything that had come before, a record that throws everything from Flash Light and Not Just Knee Deep to Hit It And Quit It and There Is Nothing Before Me But Thang into a blender of abstraction and comes up with the adrenaline rush of pure future shock.

It's an engine
Metal Machine Music

I often think the record works like a bizarre fusion of garage and laboratory, nestled deep in the heart of the Motor City, a place where mechanics and mad scientists disassemble vehicles and rebuild them in strange new combinations. Then, they flip the switch and machines spring to life, sputtering and scurrying like unwieldy insects across the shot room floor.

This shop operates at the interzone between post-disco, new wave and the nascent electro funk (the latter which Parliament/Funkadelic had a large part in birthing via Bernie Worrell's rubberband electronic basslines and gliding Arps). Rising stars like Prince and Zapp were soon hot at their heels, mapping both parallel and intersecting territory with their own innovations.

And yet, Funkadelic managed to up the ante one last time. Just as Kraftwerk rose to the challenge of new wave upstarts like The Human League and Gary Numan with their masterpiece, Computer World, Funkadelic went out with the left field big bang that is The Electric Spanking Of War Babies. Recorded after many key figures had left the group, including the aforementioned Worrell, the record is nevertheless the band's twilight era masterpiece.

Pedro Bell's rendering of Funkadelic from the record's gatefold interior

The record opens with the title track, which kicks off with what sounds like one of Eddie Hazel's Maggot Brain guitar phantasmagorias (although it's actually played by Michael Hampton). Outer space sounds swirl as a booming voice intones the following madness:

Hi there...

You probably don't remember me, but...

But I remember you.

You probably won't believe this, but, uh...

I, at the early age of 72... was adopted by aliens. [bursts into laughter]

Was adopted by aliens... [bursts into laughter again]

That's right, I said aliens.

They have long since programmed me to return with this message...

Then, a bouncing groove at the intersection of new wave funk and video game music pounces into the fray for the repeated refrain, When you learn to dance, you won't forget it, before it all turns into a trademark p-funk groove in the tradition of Not Just Knee Deep and One Nation Under A Groove, only with an added sense of creeping desperation swirling in the mix. The phrase End Of The World Party springs to mind whenever I hear it, the band standing on the verge of the precipice, still getting it on. I suspect Prince was listening closely (see 1999).

Junie Morrison livin' large

The track is almost entirely built on Junie Morrison's electro funk foundation in the form of squelching neon synth architecture, throbbing basslines and a hybrid man-machine beat, while Michael Hampton shreds guitar into post-acid sparks across the track's entirety. Various members of Parlet and The Brides Of Funkenstein turn up on the chorus, giving their trademark input in the form of a gloriously sneering sing-song of the track's title, while Junie punctuates every bar with synth stabs that punch through the mix like electric-shock therapy.

Truth be told, it probably even edges out Not Just Knee Deep as my favorite P-Funk dancefloor rave-up ever...

Pedro Bell's original, uncensored sleeve for The Electric Spanking Of War Babies

After such a mind-bending opening, Electro-Cuties might feel just a little bit less extraordinary. A minor track, even. Nevertheless, it manages to connect the band's disco funk present with their rock hard roots, fusing a slap-bass fueled groove with a Cosmic Slop-esque riff in the bridge. Like the previous track, it has the lurching feel of disparate random parts recomposed into a brand new machine. The Brides even turn up on backing vocals again, with one even delivering a proto-rap in the track's extended second half.

Sly Stone in the eighties

Funk Gets Stronger Part 1 is another matter entirely: featuring the great Sly Stone, it's the indisputable peak of the record. Opening with a talking drum figure and psychedelic voices drifting in the ether, it kicks into a whirring, stop-start beat that seems to perpetually trip forward over it's own throbbing bassline. It seems another strange machine has been conjured up from spare parts, and more than any other track here, it embodies the record's modus operandi.

Lurching in one direction before swooping and diving in the other, the rhythm seems to be powered by unstable elements, its tripping beat kicking into high-gear double-time every so often as the band struggles to catch up. You're just waiting for the tune to shift gears again, and in its Doppler rush of acceleration and deceleration on can almost feel an eerie pre-echo of jungle.

Adam And The Ants Dirk Wears White Sox U.S. Version Epic

All the while, the track's held-down by Zapp mastermind Roger Troutman's new wave-tinged rhythm guitar that's always struck me as a dead ringer for the sound on Adam And The Ants awesome Dirk Wears White Sox (the American version, of course). There's strong new wave/post punk currents running through the entirety of War Babies, and nowhere is that more evident than here. Think Metal Box, but coming from the opposite direction. Mike Hampton's incredibly pretty lead guitar threads the rhythm almost subconsciously, adding another dimension of emotion to the whole affair.

Sly & The Family Stone There's A Riot Goin' On Epic

Sly Stone famously in the mix here, credited as co-producer alongside George Clinton and Bootsy Collins, and combined with staccato trumpet lines provided by Sly's old band-mate Cynthia Robinson in the chorus, there's a definite Sly & The Family Stone flavor to the whole strange affair. There's even a lush organ passage in the breakdown in the breakdown that would have fit right in on There's A Riot Going On! I'd swear it was laid down by Sly Stone himself, but the only keyboards on the track are credited to Roger Troutman, who works the Moog synthesizers. However, as with Riot's famously hard to navigate album credits (see also the Talking Heads Remain In Light), I suspect that it's not the whole story. It's a late-era, extended band kinda thing...

The tune gets reprised a couple tracks later in the Killer Millimeter Longer Version, which finds the machine being started back up, its heartbeat pulsing quickly before tugging into shape. With its slightly more languid, open-ended arrangement, this version sounds even more like something from Riot. What's more, Sly Stone is credited on drums and keyboards, and late-period Family Stone member Pat Rizzo is present on saxophone. According to the album credits, it also features the lone contribution from original Funkadelic guitarist Eddie Hazel, who had already released his solo album Game, Dames And Guitar Thangs back in 1977.

These four lads...
The Beatles

There's an errant quote from The Beatles' All You Need Is Love before it all fades out and then back into place, with a thirty-second reprise-within-a-reprise cover version of She Loves You over the same rhythm. A drunken group chant, to be sure, and the perfect way to wrap up the Funk Gets Stronger saga.

Running parallel to these new wave/post punk moves, the record also spends a satisfying amount of time messing around with fourth world rhythms, with the extended rhythm sequence Brettino's Bounce nestled between both versions of Funk Gets Stronger. It's the sort of Caribbean-inflected groove that a post punk band like A Certain Ratio would kill for, with the band seemingly effortlessly unfurling a rolling percussion frenzy that lasts the better part of four minutes. A gong brings it all into focus, chattering polyrhythms and talking drums careening across the sound stage, before another gong sounds to conclude the jam session. Some might call it filler, but I think it's great!

Funkadelic's Shockwaves Warner Bros.

The other big fourth world moment is Shockwaves, a cod reggae number that rocks a malfunktioning skank across the showroom floor. Once again, strange machines are afoot in the sound lab, this time with parts imported from Jamaica... Crazy!

At first it almost seems like a joke song, complete with ridiculous fake island accent in the verses, but like Chuck Berry's Havana Moon it quickly bolts toward the sublime. The sprightly rhythm slowly goes overcast with the descent of soaring backing vocals and its incredible chorus:

I'm from the first world,

I like to groove.

Don't want no problems,

Set up that groove.

I'm probably out on a limb here, but it always makes be flash on Bowie. Particularly contemporary things like the proto-Remain In Light fourth world stylings of Lodger (the most obvious example being Yassassin), Up The Hill Backwards and even twenty later with Earthling's Looking For Satellites. It certainly fits right in with the wider My Life In The Bush Of Ghosts drift of the times. Interestingly, aside from the title track, it was chosen as the only other single from War Babies, coming out on 7" wax. Shades of new wave's détente with reggae (see also The Police, Jah Wobble, The Clash, et al.).

More peak-era Funkadelic onstage shenanigans

The following Oh, I almost feels like a breather after the breathless experimentation of the record's mid-section. It's the most straight-up p-funk number here, relaxing in a gently mid-tempo manner the way that Mothership Connection and Aquaboogie were. Adding to its sun-glazed aura is the acid-tinged, Ernie Isley-esque guitarwork of Michael Hampton and Jerome Ali. Interestingly, an unreleased 12" version of the tune later washed up on Parliament's The 12" Collection And More.

War Babies's scandalous rear sleeve, from the singular mind of Pedro Bell

The record closes with the rubberband electro funk jam Icka Prick, the key final track in this song cycle. With its machine box rhythms rolling along at a hip hop pace, it's practically a g-funk track. David Lee Chong holds down synthesizer duties here, injecting the track with squiggly day-glo boogie shapes, while Michael Hampton returns (yet again) for some crunchy lead guitar work. One's immediately reminded of Zapp, but this is much looser, and less locked down, coming on like an amorphous, jell-o take on the electro funk sound.

As the song opens, Michael Hampton ad-libs Oh, you ain't seen obscene yet, We gonna be nasty this here time, and he ain't lying. Icka prick and iron pussy, yucka fuck and muscle cunt, while we servin' pussy from the shoulder, she servin' dick from the head, and Elmo MacNasty, mental masturbation, psychological perversion (hey, hey), are just some of the couplets you're treated to after he warns you to Put on some protection for your ears. Ain't no decent dick in Detroit! The Brides' backing vocals retort That's disgusting!

Without warning, it all goes supernova in the track's denouement, with soaring Hit It And Quit It vocals, whining Drexciyan synths and metallic guitars elevating the track toward its epic conclusion before it all fades without warning...

Video still from live performance of the title track 1981

Over the years, The Electric Spanking Of War Babies has crept up on me to become my favorite piece of the P-Funk story. I've never seen it singled out for praise as such, but for me it distills nearly everything great about Parliament/Funkadelic into a sleek capsule aimed toward the future. Its man-machine hybrid draws together disparate contemporary strands — the post-disco funk of Zapp and Funkadelic themselves, the new wave shapes of Prince and the Minneapolis sound, and fourth world sonics straight out of the My Life In The Bush Of Ghosts playbook — all while pointing the way toward Cybotron, Model 500, Kosmic Messenger and beyond.

And as such, it's myriad routes stretch right up through the present day... not to mention the fact that it's a killer party record.

Motion 001

Gil-Scott Heron running with San Diego Harbor in the background
Motion 001: Hi-Tech/No Crime

Seeing as we've moved into the dog days of summer, the moment seems right to bring back the Motion series. A couple entries tumbled out of the Other99 blog (this site's precursor) back in the day, which were basically playlists to accompany long distance runs in either the early morning and evening. Perhaps I'll dig up some of those old playlists — if I can find them — but for now, we're resetting the counter to 001.

The Motion reboot begins with a sequence born in the crucible of the early morning circuit in the Heights: down Reservoir Dr., along the trolley tracks in Alvarado Canyon and looping back again. However, it found its true home in an early evening route along the San Diego Harbor, alternately as the sun set on the horizon or beneath overcast August skies.

This selection happens to include some of my all-time favorite techno music — which places it comfortably among my favorite music, period — so it made sense to start it up again here. In light of the general technoid-come-r&b drift of this summer (as we enter the final chapter of the Terminal Vibration saga), it makes perfect sense within this context as we descend deeper yet into the realm of machine soul...

LISTEN NOW

    Motion 001: Hi-Tech/No Crime

  1. Dave Angel Endless Motions R&S
  2. Classic tech jazz inna UR stylee, this one had a profound impact on me back in the day. I used to study Dave Angel's unmissable Classics compilation, of which this was undoubtedly the centerpiece, back when I first started making beats. A round up of Angel's material on the R&S/Apollo labels, it also happens to include the entirety of the excellent 3rd Voyage EP.

    This liquid groove runs at an accelerated European pace, a searching bassline and lush pads holding down the groove as sparkling sonics flutter across it all. This the next step on from Eddie Russ' See The Light, it sets the perfect tone for a sequence that hovers in that verdant interzone between techno and soul.

  3. Jimi Tenor Can't Stay With You Baby Warp
  4. Ostensibly, this is the other side of the coin (see also Compost Records, Kirk Degiorgio, et. al.), Jimi Tenor nevertheless had a distinct approach all his own. Conjuring up images of some lounge singer solo on an organ in some hotel bar, he epitomized the sort of 90s-era profound unlikeliness that also tossed up figures like Beck and Stereolab.

    I often think of Tenor as a post-Thomas Leer troubadour of bedroom electronica, offering up an idiosyncratic take on the music in the clubs, thoroughly warped and sounding like nothing else around. Can't Stay With You Baby finds the man in the glitzy cascade of city lights just as rush hour begins winding down. With shades of Prince in the vocal delivery and strong undercurrents of modal jazz, this is above all else a killer pop song. Should be far more widely known.

  5. Tronikhouse Smooth Groove The Smooth Mix KMS
  6. Vintage Kevin Saunderson from the dawn of the 90s, this takes a laidback angle on his Reese material, with the trademark organ-esque bass figure one comes to expect from the man who brought you E-Dancer's The Human Bond and Reese's Just Want Another Chance.

    Dig that ever so subtle, Blue Bayou synth hovering over the whole thing like an Everglades mist. Skeletal and vibed-out to the extreme, and locking in at only three-and-a-half minutes, it's another great pop moment and one of the first tunes I'd direct someone to if they were curious about techno.

  7. Freq Waveaura Matrix
  8. An exclusive from the Digital Sects 2 compilation (although it later appeared on Submerge's Depth Charge 3 compilation), a showcase for Sean Deason's Matrix Records which was only just on the rise. A tune from the man himself (in his Freq guise), this organ-led number finds Deason pumping some serious keys over a moody, half-lit groove.

    This the secret cousin to Paperclip People's Steam, only on the after hours, 3 In The Mornin' tip. One of the great night drive traxx for real, this is right up there with peak-era Hashim and Underworld. As far as I know, this never made it to wax... so CD-only techno in full effect!

  9. Yennek Serena X Inner Zone Mix Buzz
  10. Arguably Kenny Larkin's finest hour, this Carl Craig rework (featuring an early allusion to his Innerzone Orchestra project), which takes the original version's pristine aquatic groove and funks it up with the same febrile rhythms you'd find in his AMAZING Psyche/BFC material.

    Those synths though! Such style, gliding as it does over that loping bassline and clattering percussion, and as such instantly recognizable as the work of Craig. A match made in heaven, Kenny Larkin returned the favor a couple years later with his equally brilliant remix of Craig's Science Fiction.

  11. Carl Craig Sparkle Planet E
  12. This exquisite slice of digital disco is cut from the same cloth — and generally speaking, the same era — turning up on a timely reissue of Carl Craig's epochal Landcruising (re-titled The Album Formerly Known As... for the re-up). Hard to believe that a tune this mind-blowing — from the Landcruising sessions — sat unreleased in the vaults for a decade!

    Similarly, this has a great swinging rhythm and insane synth work, traveling in great arcs in the Blade Runner mode and deliciously tactile bleeps flowing all over the shop. Once again, that nimble bassline and and shuffling beat epitomize the type of techno I dig above all else.

  13. Kosmic Messenger Death March Elypsia
  14. I'm a huge fan of Stacey Pullen. Indeed, I have a long-delayed feature dedicated to the man coming at you later this month. Until the doors opened on his Black Flag imprint, Kosmic Messenger was his most dancefloor-dwelling moniker, with tunes like Eye 2 Eye, I Find Myself and Flash omnipresent for much of the 90s. It's a perfect complement to his more contemplative material as Silent Phase, picking up where the Bango records left off.

    I first heard this tune on Pullen's excellent DJ-Kicks, where its grinding chord progression and shimmering loops perfectly matched the record's Blade Runner file-under-futurism ambience. Pullen's shadowy history as a drummer in his high school marching band seems to surface between the cracks in that rolling martial rhythm. I've often thought that Kosmic Messenger output was a direct descendant of Parliament/Funkadelic's freakiest moments.

  15. The 4th Wave Electroluv Planet E
  16. The grand finale! The most lush, incredibly baroque synth work soars over an clattering, intricately arranged techno rhythm. It makes sense that Carl Craig would snap it up for release on Planet E, fitting in as it does with the label's mid-period output (post-Intergalactic Beats and pre-Silentintroduction) brilliantly.

    The 4th Wave was British techno purveyor Steve Paton, who later washed up on both Kirk Degiorgio's Op-ART and James Lavelle's Mo Wax imprints. This tune is quite simply amazing, hailing from the three-track Touched EP (the sole 4th Wave release on Planet E). There's something very rich and ancient lurking somewhere in its DNA (those organs in the breakdown are the kicker) that seems to call back the 70s (it always makes me think of those early-morning training sequences from the first Rocky movie).

As the mix winds down, the closing misty bards of Electroluv ringing in our ears, we arrive at our destination. I hope you've enjoyed the journey...

 Dave Angel - 3rd Voyage Jimi Tenor - Intervision Tronikhouse - The Savage And Beyond Various Artists - Digital Sects 2 Various Artists - Panic In Detroit (Strictly Promo) Carl Craig - The Album Formerly Known As...
Kosmic Messenger - Electronic Poetry: The Collected Works Of Kosmic Messenger
The 4th Wave - Touched
Motion 001: The Records

Aretha Franklin

Classic image of Aretha Franklin from the sleeve of Amazing Grace
The Queen Of Soul

There's just no getting around Mrs. Franklin's greatness. That voice. She could pour everything she had into one sustained note and then keep right on going where most others would have to take a breather, swooping and diving from raw power to fragile beauty in but a moment, then wheeling back again to bring the house down. She had a knack for that...

The dark, low slung blues of The Thrill Is Gone From Yesterday's Kiss (with Aretha's voice weaving around that pulsing, well-deep organ figure and staggering beat) was always been my go to moment, but in truth there's far too many to count: the lush, sun-glazed soul of Day Dreaming, her graceful rocking out on Bacharach/David's I Say A Little Prayer, the insouciantly casual non-album 7" funk workout of The House That Jack Built, Get It Right's skittering electronic soul and the r&b coup of A Rose Is Still A Rose, the stunning I Never Loved A Man The Way I Love You (undoubtedly one of the key sixties soul LPs), the girl group splendor of Don't Play That Song... and on and on and on.

Take a look at UR's The Turning Point double pack, where you'll find her honored alongside figures like James Brown, Hendrix, Kraftwerk and Muhammad Ali within the context of that crew's arcing hi-tek funk. Her influence spread far and wide, but its within the grooves of her records where the magic still crackles. I can still remember the day I picked up Spirit In The Dark and Young, Gifted And Black. Hearing them for the first time was a revelation, opening up vast possibilities stretching far and wide as the deep blue sky.

From Memphis to Detroit, in sound and spirit, Aretha Franklin was quite simply the definition of soul...

Baby, baby, baby, this is just to say

How much I'm gonna miss you.

But believe, while I'm away

That I didn't mean to hurt you.

Don't you know that I'd rather hurt myself?

...I'd hurt myself, I'd hurt myself...

Baby, baby, baby, baby, think of me sometimes

Because if loving you was so wrong, then I'm guilty of this crime.

...Guilty, I'm guilty, I'm guilty...

I'm bewildered, I'm lonely, and I'm loveless,

Without you to hold my hand (Reach out for me, boy)

If you'd just understand (Reach out to me, right now).

Those that we love, we foolishly make cry,

Then sometimes feel it's best to say goodbye, goodbye.

But what's inside can't be denied.

The power, the power of love is my only guide.

Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby...

This is just to say,

Just how much I'm really gonna miss you.

Aretha Franklin1

1.

Franklin, Aretha. Baby, Baby, Baby. I Never Loved A Man The Way I Love You. Franklin, Aretha. Atlantic, 1967. Vinyl.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n99NQ02Y7BE

2600 Dreams

Alexander O'Neal lost in thought and Ken Ishii jacks in as an Atari 2600 swoops in across the game grid

Remember when summer vacation would stretch deep into the heart of August, those long, hot days when steam would rise from the asphalt and intermix with the urban haze? One summer in particular stands out, the summer of '95 to be exact, when for a few weeks my brother and I sanded and refinished my uncle's deck out in the blazing Santee heat. The sun burned deep like a cigarette in the sky as we toiled below, with tunes like Skee-Lo's I Wish and Masta Ace Incorporated's Born To Roll coming through on the radio waves, their sun-glazed ambience syncing perfectly with those delirious days of labor.

Like Jodeci once said, Success is not hard to find.

Masta Ace Incorporated Sittin' On Chrome Delicious Vinyl

I wound up spending some of my greenbacks on an Atari 2600 that I bought out in Alpine from a gentleman a few years my senior. This was of course ancient technology by then, but I was a notorious fiend for the 8-bit vibes of the vintage arcades of Tron and my own distant memories. I remember hooking it all up when I got home (after being stuck for hours in rush hour traffic), and the graphics and controls were even more rudimentary than I'd imagined (I'd previously only been familiar with its more elegant antecedent, the Atari 5200). Still, I was eventually quite taken with the stunning, vivid imagery that would sometimes take flight.

Screenshot of Yar's Revenge in in action
The vivid imagery of Yar's Revenge

Colorful sprites would hang like hieroglyphs in stark relief against rolling vectors and gradient skies, landscapes unfurling as analogue sound effects pulsed from within. Notably, almost none of these games had music — just the warm hum of analogue arcade sonix — which freed you up to play whatever you wished. The sounds of Kleeer's Tonight and China Crisis' Seven Sports For All could mix freely with the sights and sounds of the game grid and the swirling summer heat in a heady cocktail of Indian summer proto-psychedelia.

China Crisis Difficult Shapes & Passive Rhythms: Some People Think It's Fun To Entertain Virgin

Cassette tapes spooled out the sounds of new wave and electro boogie, tunes like Adam Ant's Beautiful Dream and Mtume's Juicy Fruit blurring out into the horizon as occasional atmospheric interludes like the spaced-out ambient bliss of Jean Walks In Freshfields would stretch out into infinity. I remember wishing there were whole albums that sounded like this (fast forward a few years to the discovery of Brian Eno's Apollo: Atmospheres & Soundtracks, Steve Hillage's Rainbow Dome Musick and Ashra's New Age Of Earth and a kid's sorted... ask and you shall receive).

Screenshot of Solaris in in action
Solaris will take your brain to another dimension

Aside from rugged versions of obvious classics like Centipede and Joust, a firm favorite was Solaris. This interstellar shooter pushed the machine to its absolute limit, centering around a pyramidical starship that moved over the face of various planets surface. Oftentimes throwing strobe-like visual effects and pink noise into the mix as the game swung into overdrive, moving at an evermore brisk pace (in classic arcade style) as you dodged asteroids and did battle with alien spacecraft.

Like Dr. Octagon once said, Polygons fighting pentagons.

Dâm-Funk Toeachizown Stones Throw

In retrospect, I recognize that I was trying to recreate the atmosphere of Dâm-Funk's Toeachizown, those rolling waves of computer blue g-funk, before they'd even happened. The record would have been perfect in that setting, back in the day. See also Model 500's Deep Space and JT The Bigga Figga's Dwellin' In Tha Labb, two records that we did have in 1995. As I've said many times before, Kleeer's Tonight and Mtume's The After 6 Mix Juicy Fruit Part II are the square root of these shades of digital funk.

Screenshot of Battlezone (Arcade Version) in in action
Tanks Ahead: Battlezone's prototypical vector landscapes

Picture a game like Battlezone, its vector landscapes closing in all around you, as the soundsystem pumps out rivers of synth flowing across drum machine rhythms. Records like Ken Ishii's Echo Exit, Freaky Chakra's Blacklight Fantasy or Alexander O'Neal's self-titled debut shimmer in the moonlight, gliding across the spaces between the spaces shading out that neon architecture of the grid, elegant and austere and surreal. Keni Stevens' Night Moves Ultra-Sensual Mix captures the mood in half-lit neon, born under a rhythmic moon.

Freaky Chakra Blacklight Fantasy Astralwerks

Like Symbols & Instruments, it's all shorthand for the realm of the imagination: Tales From The Mental Plane. If wherever you find yourself isn't where you want to be, then move your mind and the rest will follow. You gather the materials you need to build your starship and then you build it. Everything else is the waves lapping at the shore: a result. All those years ago, it was the unlikely combination of a boom box and a 2600. Before long, it was a Tracker and the music in my mind, and then and MPC3000 and an ARP, and so on and so forth... and it turned out pretty well, all things considered. The wave rolls on, and we ride it still...

Juan Atkins

Juan Atkins: The Man-Soulmachine
Machine Soul Innovator

Not much to add to what I said here, but within the context of what we've got lined up in the August heat, it seemed high time to throw a little more love Magic Juan's way. Of course the Deep Space LP is machine soul's stone tablet, and early records like No UFO's and Night Drive were the crucial bridge between the electro space jams of the early 80s and the sleek austerity of 90s techno, but there's an awful lot going on in the spaces within the spaces that merits further investigation...

Juan Atkins Future Sound EP Underground Level

Take a record like The Future Sound EP (released under his own name), an utter one off on Underground Level Recordings that finds Juan Atkins gathering together a selection of tracks from Martin Bonds and Mike Huckaby (alongside his own track Interpret) that showcase the brittle Motor City sound of his Interface imprint, splitting the difference between the sleek futurism of the People Mover and the tactile reality of the freeway underpass. A track like Urban Tropics seems poised between the early Metroplex records and where Atkins would take things into the 90s.

Infiniti The Infiniti Collection Tresor

This 90s sound came to be embodied in the Infiniti records and Atkins' fruitful collaborations with Basic Channel's Moritz von Oswald (see also Deep Space and their more recent Borderland records). Tunes like Flash Flood and Skyway set their sights on the infinite horizon, achieving trance states with an aerodynamic precision, while Never Tempt Me squared the circle between Atkins' micro-house innovations and his machine soul foundations.

Model 500 Mind And Body R&S

Appropriately, the latter was explored to its fullest on 90s Model 500 records like The Flow, I Wanna Be There and large swathes of the Mind And Body album 1998. Tracks like Tipsy, Be Brave and Just Maybe ran parallel to Timbaland and The Neptunes' own post-Deep Space innovations, aligning itself with chrome-plated r&b futurism (with strong undercurrents of drum 'n bass) at the turn of the millennium. Of course, he'd already begun flirting with such sounds in 1989 with Visions' Other Side Of Life, a house-inflected machine soul hybrid shot through with Atkins' trademark synth mirage.

Juan Atkins, wearing headphones, looks on

Indeed, one of Atkins' greatest gifts is his way with a synth, coaxing these great multi-faceted prisms of texture from his machines that sound like nothing so much as rays of light streaming through a raincloud. Infiniti's Impulse, Model 500's The Passage and Incredible all showcase that sound from various angles (and within strikingly different contexts). I've often thought that Timbaland's production for Aaliyah's Rock The Boat bore a striking resemblance to Atkins' synth architecture.


So beyond the obvious currents of innovation and influence that spread through dance and street music in the intervening years, it's fascinating to return to the man's music and hear the blueprints for the future, drawn up far in advance. In truth, it seems that even with the passage of time, decades in fact, we're all still catching up...

Mýa The Moonlight

Mýa live @ the Music Box 8/2/2018

These are just a few scenes from Mýa's concert last Thursday, an evening of contemporary r&b music. I'm on record about the machine soul genius of It's All About Me, with its space capsule Art Of Noise loops and that atmospheric bridge in lunar orbit (a SA-RA-before-SA-RA moment), and Moodring remains a classic from the peak era of the form, so it was a treat to catch her live at the Music Box backed by current producer MyGuyMars and DJ Klash.

MyGuyMars works the machines

The show had the feel of an old-time soul revue, with the trio working through Mýa's songbook as an arcing medley stretching across the length of the evening. Firm favorites like Movin' On,1 Case Of The Ex and Fallen rubbed shoulders with new material like Simple Things and The Fall. She even opened with a cover of Sade's No Ordinary Love,2 which makes perfect sense in the context of ambient dreamscapes like It's All About Me (which — thankfully — she also managed to touch upon as well).

Mýa hands out the roses

There was also a preview of a new track sounding like slow-motion trance music that — strangely enough — reminded me of certain tunes from DJ Bongz' South African house mixes like No Retreat. No Surrender. Mýa also had plenty of chances to showcase her dance moves and even spit some bars on Unbreakable. At one point, she handed out roses to people in the audience and distributed glasses of wine(!) to the front row while the new Terry Hunter Circle Club Mix of Circle Of Life3 played over the P.A.

Mýa Circle Of Life Planet 9

From what I've heard so far, the new record T.K.O. (which was produced by MyGuyMars) sounds awfully intriguing. After some searching, it appears that the CD can be procured from her website.4 With her own Planet 9 Records set up, and even the general feel of the site (which isn't a million miles removed from that of Mahogani Music),5 it's rather evocative of an independent modern soul, city lights endeavor.

R&B's girl-next-door still going strong, twenty years on...

Footnotes

1.

When she reached the lyric you know I wear a size 4, she quipped It ain't a 4 no more!

2.

Apparently, Sade is listed among Mýa's key influences. Funny enough, just the other day I was commenting that It's All About Me had the feel of a Sade song. Plus, Sade's Surrender Your Love just featured as July's record of the month). Sometimes these things just come together...

3.

The single also features remixes from Mike Dunn (Chicago bizzness in full effect).

4.

Mýa. Mýa, Planet 9, 1998. http://www.myamya.com/. Accessed 5 Aug. 2018.

5.

Mahogani Music. Mahogani Music, 2004. http://www.mahoganimusic.com/. Accessed 5 Aug. 2018.