KID SHIRT

Saturday, May 27, 2006

BURIED

A big, big thanks to the mighty Burial for giving up his valuable free time to talk to me earlier this evening. He really is a top bloke, a complete, total gent: gracious, humble and enthusiastic...it's always a major pleasure to talk to people who obviously love music as much as he does, whether they're building beats in South London or participating in freeform skronk-outs in Maryland, Virginia or Tampere.

Anyone who follows Dubstep will, of course, already be aware of his music. Most of my blogging colleagues have been yipping about the guy all month: his recent LP on Kode9's wonderous Hyperdub label has been (quite rightly) getting major props all over the blogosphere...loads of grown-ups and, uh, proper writers have covered it; it felt kinda stupid me shadowing it a few days after everyone else had trampled over the topic, so I just kept my head down and kept me gob shut.

Still, for those of you with no interest in Dubstep whatsoever(or indeed, even better, those of you that don't even know or care what it is...), I would say: if you've any interest in or love for music whatsoever (irregardless of genre blahblahblah), I do recommend that you at least take the time to check out his tunes, whether on a listening-post or a mp3 download-site...it's kinda blurry/amorphous/emotive...the sound of deserted late-night business-parks; blurred pictures of supermarket loading-bays, wheelie bins, rusting fire-escapes, boarded-up cafes...a requiem for decades, years, moments that we can never have back again...for everything that ever left our lives: this soundtracks those moments when we suddenly noticed what it was that had disappeared. It attempts to describe a particular emotion that's invoked by the sudden recognition of other missing emotions, of feelings, sounds, sensations that have gone or dissipated into the aether. Ah, that's bollocks, I know, but there you are.

In simple terms, even if you don't give a shit about contemporary urban beats, but you like, I dunno, Ballard or Dick or you've got half a heart left in you or a soul or the will to resist the vile reductionist anti-cultural shite on the TV, the radio, in magazines, and the way that all the towns, cities, the people around you now look the same, then have a listen.

Actually, just ignore all the theoretic/critical bollocks written about Burial by idiots like me, 'cause I'm telling you: this music really does come from the heart.

Respect.

FELLOPIA

VOID-JAZZ POSSE GO DIGI-TAL (PART 3)

...Meanwhile, though, you could always enter The Void.