m (→Text) |
m (→Text) |
||
Line 5: | Line 5: | ||
* ISSN: 0771-8179 | * ISSN: 0771-8179 | ||
− | == Text == | + | == Translated Text == |
BOARDS OF CANADA - cross out the inappropriate <br /> | BOARDS OF CANADA - cross out the inappropriate <br /> | ||
Line 12: | Line 12: | ||
With their new album ''[[The Campfire Headphase|Campfire]]'', [[Boards of Canada]] – the Scottish electronic duo Marcus Eoin and Michael Sandison – bid farewell to the cult status they achieved after ''[[Music Has The Right To Children]]'' and foremost ''[[Geogaddi]]''. On ''[[The Campfire Headphase|Campfire]]'', we didn’t hear any layered, discomforting ambient littered with obscure references, but instead ten surprisingly straightforward sounding tracks full of weathered easy listening, and the melancholy of bruised Fisher Price-toys. | With their new album ''[[The Campfire Headphase|Campfire]]'', [[Boards of Canada]] – the Scottish electronic duo Marcus Eoin and Michael Sandison – bid farewell to the cult status they achieved after ''[[Music Has The Right To Children]]'' and foremost ''[[Geogaddi]]''. On ''[[The Campfire Headphase|Campfire]]'', we didn’t hear any layered, discomforting ambient littered with obscure references, but instead ten surprisingly straightforward sounding tracks full of weathered easy listening, and the melancholy of bruised Fisher Price-toys. | ||
<br /><br /> | <br /><br /> | ||
− | According to the legend, Eoin and Sandison are unworldly hermits living in a Scottish rural community, but the lads we drink cappuccino with right now in the incredibly hip student quarters of Glasgow are dead normal guys in their thirties who – just like us – grew up during the late seventies and early eighties. Read: too young for the first punk wave, drenched with dry new-wave melancholy, heavily brainwashed by trashy American televison series. If you’re still in doubt: Having watched all | + | According to the legend, Eoin and Sandison are unworldly hermits living in a Scottish rural community, but the lads we drink cappuccino with right now in the incredibly hip student quarters of Glasgow are dead normal guys in their thirties who – just like us – grew up during the late seventies and early eighties. Read: too young for the first punk wave, drenched with dry new-wave melancholy, heavily brainwashed by trashy American televison series. If you’re still in doubt: Having watched all ‘[[wikipedia:The_A-Team|The A-Team]]’ episodes creates a bond. |
<br /> | <br /> | ||
− | {{boc|Marcus Eoin (enthusiastic): "Did you hear that on ''[[The Campfire Headphase|Campfire]]'', I played a small part that resembles the jingle of Stephen J. Cannell Productions – you know, the producer of | + | {{boc|Marcus Eoin (enthusiastic): "Did you hear that on ''[[The Campfire Headphase|Campfire]]'', I played a small part that resembles the jingle of Stephen J. Cannell Productions – you know, the producer of ‘[[wikipedia:The_A-Team|The A-Team]]?"}} |
{{question|Humo: "Oops, no."}} | {{question|Humo: "Oops, no."}} | ||
Line 20: | Line 20: | ||
{{boc|Marcus: “The closing jingle of ‘The A-Team’? No? You see someone using a typewriter while there’s a ‘tum-tum-tum-tu-dum’ melody playing in the background. It took me a damn day to recreate it perfectly, that’s why I’m happy as a lark when someone tells me he did recognize it (laughs).”}} | {{boc|Marcus: “The closing jingle of ‘The A-Team’? No? You see someone using a typewriter while there’s a ‘tum-tum-tum-tu-dum’ melody playing in the background. It took me a damn day to recreate it perfectly, that’s why I’m happy as a lark when someone tells me he did recognize it (laughs).”}} | ||
− | {{question|Humo: | + | {{question|Humo: ''The Campfire Headphase'' sounds like the tapes have leavened in a humid cellar for twenty years: dead-gorgeous but half vanished. And the cover looks like a used beer mat: the pictures are totally bleached."}} |
{{boc|Michael Sandison: "You hit the nail on the head. It had to look like the album had been lying on the dashboard of our car since 1980.”}} | {{boc|Michael Sandison: "You hit the nail on the head. It had to look like the album had been lying on the dashboard of our car since 1980.”}} | ||
Line 46: | Line 46: | ||
{{boc|Marcus: “And with our music, we try to translate that nostalgic feeling in sounds. We don’t – like heaps of rock-and electronic bands of today – revert to what is considered the archetypal music of the late seventies and early eighties: we put our experience of that age – with our films, our TV-shows and our music’ – into sounds.”}} | {{boc|Marcus: “And with our music, we try to translate that nostalgic feeling in sounds. We don’t – like heaps of rock-and electronic bands of today – revert to what is considered the archetypal music of the late seventies and early eighties: we put our experience of that age – with our films, our TV-shows and our music’ – into sounds.”}} | ||
+ | ---- | ||
'''The fifth chord''' | '''The fifth chord''' | ||
---- | ---- | ||
+ | |||
{{question|Humo: ''[[The Campfire Headphase|Campfire]]'' is a great deal more accessible than its predecessor. Didn’t you finally want to – don’t laugh – get access to a wider public?"}} | {{question|Humo: ''[[The Campfire Headphase|Campfire]]'' is a great deal more accessible than its predecessor. Didn’t you finally want to – don’t laugh – get access to a wider public?"}} | ||
Line 72: | Line 74: | ||
{{boc|Michael: “With this difference: we let hear a shrill tone at the right moment – in our terminology: the magical fifth chord. If you do something the listener doesn’t expect on the crucial moment, his ear will pay extra attention there the next time he listens: this way, you keep music fascinating.” }} | {{boc|Michael: “With this difference: we let hear a shrill tone at the right moment – in our terminology: the magical fifth chord. If you do something the listener doesn’t expect on the crucial moment, his ear will pay extra attention there the next time he listens: this way, you keep music fascinating.” }} | ||
+ | ---- | ||
'''Stinking druids''' | '''Stinking druids''' | ||
---- | ---- | ||
Line 85: | Line 88: | ||
{{boc|Michael: “You hear it: the principal reason why we have been sitting here talking to you, is to set the record straight. Boards of Canada are two simple guys who, by chance, make intriguing music.”}} | {{boc|Michael: “You hear it: the principal reason why we have been sitting here talking to you, is to set the record straight. Boards of Canada are two simple guys who, by chance, make intriguing music.”}} | ||
− | {{question|Humo: | + | {{question|Humo: "Keep up the good work! And thank you."}} |
== Scans == | == Scans == |
"Cross Out the Inappropriate" (in Dutch) by Kristoff Tilkin
BOARDS OF CANADA - cross out the inappropriate
'Today’s youth has no respect anymore for A) Music, B) Acne, and C) Yesterday’s youth'
With their new album Campfire, Boards of Canada – the Scottish electronic duo Marcus Eoin and Michael Sandison – bid farewell to the cult status they achieved after Music Has The Right To Children and foremost Geogaddi. On Campfire, we didn’t hear any layered, discomforting ambient littered with obscure references, but instead ten surprisingly straightforward sounding tracks full of weathered easy listening, and the melancholy of bruised Fisher Price-toys.
According to the legend, Eoin and Sandison are unworldly hermits living in a Scottish rural community, but the lads we drink cappuccino with right now in the incredibly hip student quarters of Glasgow are dead normal guys in their thirties who – just like us – grew up during the late seventies and early eighties. Read: too young for the first punk wave, drenched with dry new-wave melancholy, heavily brainwashed by trashy American televison series. If you’re still in doubt: Having watched all ‘The A-Team’ episodes creates a bond.
“In the nineties, producers sometimes mixed the crackling of old vinyl LPs in their tracks to let them sound more authentically. We go much farther: we mutilate our sounds consciously. We don’t have to try really hard, though: a lot of our studio equipment is garbage anyway (laughs).”
“Did you ever hear ‘The Disintegration Loops’ from William Basinski? Basinski, an American producer, wanted to convert his twenty-year-old cassettes to a digital format, but because they had been at the bottom of a drawer for so long, fragments of the magnetic tape came off. But instead of stopping the process to save the tapes, he went on with it and got the dying sounds digitalized and on cd. The results are ancient soundscapes sounding fantastic as well as tragic: you can really hear them pass away. When I read that story, I thought: hey, that’s what we’ve been doing for years: writing tracks using sounds that soak off a feeling of melancholy.
The fifth chord
Stinking druids