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Music Has the Right to Children era

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Hardware Addicts

title Hardware Addicts
author Gregor Wildermann
publication De:Bug
date 1997/09
issue 03
pages p.06



"Hardware Addicts" is an interview (In German) by Gregor Wildermann originally published Sept. 1997 in De:Bug Magazine Number 03, page 06 [1]

This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.

"It's just by default that we do electronic music." Dieser in Ironie getrĂ€nkte Satz stammt von Mike Sandison, der zusammen mit Marcus Es die achte Platte auf SKAM-Records veröffentlichte und damit dieses Label aus Manchester nochmals interessanter machte. Gleich den Mitbetreibern von Autechre, ist das Duo aus Edingburgh eine der Gruppen, die moderne elektronische Musik von der Landkarte Englands nicht verschwinden lassen. Ihr erster Auslandsbesuch fĂŒhrte sie zum Sunflower-Festival bei Regensburg, wo sie in guten Absichten auf die Folgen von schlechtem Wetter trafen und wie viele andere DJs, Liveacts und Raver mit SchlammfĂŒĂŸen zu kĂ€mpfen hatten. Mittendrin auch Michael Fakesch und xxxxx, die Boards of Canada fĂŒr die MASK 1 gewinnen konnten. Das, der SKAMpler-Sampler und ihr kommendes Album auf eben diesem Label waren Grund genug, wieder einmal die Fragen nach Wohin und Woher zu stellen.....

Mike Sandison: Angefangen haben wir auf der Schule, eigentlich schon in den frĂŒhen 80er Jahren, so etwa 1983/84. Ich bin jetzt 26 Jahre alt, Marcus ist 24. Zu der Zeit haben wir unter diversen Namen und mit verschiedenen Musikern gearbeitet und es gab auch Zeiten, da waren wir eine richtige Band mit 4 Musikern und einem Vocalist. Ich selbst war da der Drummer. We are kind of multi-instrumentalists. Irgendwie fanden wir dann heraus, daß wir zu zweit am besten arbeiten konnten und wurden in dieser Phase auch immer elektronischer. Wir benutzten dabei aber sehr roughes Equipment wie z.B.. Ghettoblaster und Ă€lteres HiFi-Gear und wir wollten es so gut wie möglich klingen lassen. Selbst als wir uns immer teureres Equipment kauften, wollten wir auch damit diesen roughen Sound entstehen lassen. Wir benutzen es auf eine Weise, wie es andere nicht tun wĂŒrden. Viele wĂŒrden High-Tech-Sampler dazu benutzen, sehr cleane und reine Sounds zu machen; wir spielen absichtlich falsche Tonlagen und zerhacken die normalen Strukturen. We deliberatly fuck it about so that it gets really kind of rough. Es gibt ja mittlerweile auch moderne Verfahren, mit denen man etwas so klingen lassen kann, als ob es in den 60ern aufgenommen worden wĂ€re, was in sich schon ein bißchen ironisch ist.
Woher stammt der Name Boards of Canada ?
"MS: Es gibt eine Behörde in Camda, die " The National Filmboard of CanadaÒ heißt. Sie produzieren Natur- und Tierfilme bzw. politische Dokumentarfilme, die sich hauptsĂ€chlich mit Nordamerika und Canada beschĂ€ftigen. In den 70ern waren diese Filme sehr beliebt und ihre Soundtracks haben uns sehr beeinflußt. Es waren immer sehr schön gemachte Tunes, die bestimmt von einem Acid-Casualty mit langen Haaren und sehr vielen Synthesisern komponiert worden sind. Es waren brillante Sounds und wir haben versucht, unsere Tracks in dieser Art klingen zu lassen. Da wir uns aus rechtlichen GrĂŒnden nicht National Filmboard of Canada nennen konnten, wandelten wir den Namen einfach ein wenig ab und daraus wurde Boards of Canada.
st das Bild auf der SKAM-Platte auch aus einem dieser Filme?
"MS: Dieses Bild stammt von einem Film, den ein Freund von mir gemacht hat. Wir haben ja eine kleine Firma namens Music70 und die produziert auch Super-8 und Videofilme, wovon viele recht experimentell sind. Ich selbst mache auch einige dieser Filmarbeiten und wir werden demnÀchst unseren ersten Super-8 Film in SpielfilmlÀnge drehen, bei dem wir auch komplett die Musik machen."
Was ist das Thema dieses Filmes?
"MS: Es wird wohl ein Roadmovie sein, aber auch das in einem eher weit gefassten Begriff. Es soll ein Roadmovie in fĂŒnf Teilen sein und das ist auch schon alles, was wir im Moment wissen."
Wie kam es zu der Platte auf dem SKAM-Label?
"MS: Nachdem wir auf unserem eigenen Label Music70 eine erste Platte gemacht hatten, wollten wir mit Rephlex, Warp und SKAM in Kontakt treten, da wir irgendwo auch Fans dieser Labels und ihrer Musik waren. Es gab nur 100 StĂŒck dieser Platte und ich selbst habe noch 70 StĂŒck bei mir liegen. Die anderen 30 verschickten wir an PlattenlĂ€den und diese drei Labels und nach zwei Tagen rief schon Sean Booth von Autechre an und meinte nur: "Yah, we' gonna do something together.Ò Das hat uns natĂŒrlich gefreut. "
Was macht deiner Meinung nach die QualitÀt von Autechres Musik aus?
"MS: They are doing really original rhythm-work, but they don't do jungle music. Viele machen den Fehler, daß Jungle die einzige Alternative sein soll. Bei jeder neuen Platte merkt man ihnen ihre Versessenheit fĂŒr technische Details an und sie versuchen als einer der wenigen, wirklich eigenstĂ€ndige Musik zu machen, die man in keinerlei Genre packen kann. "
Wird es auf Music70 noch mehr Releases geben und was wird man sonst von Euch in Zukunft hören können?
"MS: Auf Music70 werden in Zukunft sicherlich noch Platten erscheinen, aber im Moment haben wir noch zu viele andere Projekte. Auf SKAM wird eine CD im Albumformat erscheinen und ich hoffe, daß wir das in den nĂ€chsten 6 bis 8 Wochen fertigstellen können. Außerdem werden wir eine Single und dann auch ein Album fĂŒr Mike Paradinas Label Planet-” machen. Er hatte eine Copy der Twoism-EP bekommen, die etwa im Januar '96 herauSKAM und Material vom Sommer '95 beinhaltet. Einer der Tracks ("See ya laterÒ) war dann auch auf der B-Seite der SKAM-EP. Mike hat diese Platte irgendwie in die Hand bekommen und uns dann ein paar Monate spĂ€ter auch daraufhin angerufen. "
Klingt Euer neues Material anders als die Tracks der EP auf SKAM?
"MS: Wir haben uns schon weiterentwickelt. Vieles klingt wesentlich organischer und die Tracks sind auch viel durchkomponierter. Oft versuchen wir auch, daß sich der Track vom Anfang bis Ende völlig verĂ€ndert und wir beschreiben das als einen 'psychadelic approach', den wir irgendwie gut finden. Wir haben auch viel Folkmusik aus den 70ern gehört wie z.B. Incredible String Band oder Jonie Mitchell, die durch ihre Instrumentenwahl wie z.B. Flöten ebenfalls sehr organisch und natĂŒrlich klingen. Diese Soundquellen haben wir verstĂ€rkt gesampelt. We processed them, destroyed them and turned them back into something very electronic. Man wird aber trotzdem merken, daß diese EinflĂŒsse bestehen."
Wie groß ist die Gefahr, daß ein Label wie SKAM durch eine gewisse PopularitĂ€t an QualitĂ€t einbĂŒĂŸt?
"MS: Ich weiß von Andy Maddocks (Labelchef) Bedenken, daß dem Label im Moment zu viel Aufmerksamkeit geschenkt wird und das zu viele Interviews und Artikel erscheinen. Er macht sich da schon Sorgen und ich stimme ihm da auch zu. FĂŒr Journalisten wie dich oder Musiker wie mich ist so ein Label wie SKAM natĂŒrlich sehr attraktiv, zumal man sich vorstellen muß, wie wenig finanzielle Mittel dahinter stehen. Am besten ist es, wenn ein Label so Underground ist, daß niemand weiß, woher es kommt und wer es macht. Es liegt ja auch an den KĂŒnstlern eines Labels, alles zu versuchen, damit das Label einzigartig bleibt und etwas Besonderes darstellt."
Glaubst du, daß Eure Musik von den verschiedenen eigenen kĂŒnstlerischen Interessen profitiert?
"MS: Bestimmt. Persönlich wĂŒrde ich mich auch gar nicht nur auf Musik konzentrieren wollen; daß liegt ĂŒberhaupt nicht in meiner Natur. Viele Musiker sind auch DJs und wiederum viele aus dem Fernseh- und Filmbereich interessieren sich fĂŒr Musik. Meiner Meinung nach liegt es an der doch recht billigen Hardware, die es vielen Menschen ermöglicht, eigene Platten aufzunehmen und eigene Videos zu drehen. Mit Computern kann man selbst das Artwork machen und ĂŒber das Internet vertreiben. "
Richard James benutzt spezielle Software, um Platten wie die Rubberjohnny zu machen. Experimentiert ihr auch mit solchen Programmen?
"MS: Wir benutzen ĂŒberhaupt keine Computer. Jedesmal, wenn wir versuchen, etwas mit einem PC oder Mac zu machen, haben wir einfach nur Probleme und es nervt. We like Hardware. Viel von unserem Equipment sieht so aus, als könnte es in einer großen Fabrik stehen. We like knobs. Big things with knobs and dials. Wir haben natĂŒrlich auch digitales Equipment, aber Computer gehören nicht dazu. Ich mag diese kleinen Displays auch nicht, weil man damit ĂŒberhaupt nicht instinktiv arbeiten kann. Computer sind einfach dafĂŒr nicht ausgelegt, sind zu zerbrechlich und gehen viel zu schnell kaputt. We like to come into the studio and kick it about."
Worin liegen die Vorteile bei der Arbeit als Duo?
"MS: Definitiv die QualitĂ€tskontrolle. Manche KĂŒnstler, die ich jetzt hier aber nicht nennen werde, veröffentlichen einfach zu viel und oft zu durchschnittliches Material. Wenn sie einen Partner hĂ€tten, dann könnte der ihnen sagen: Ich verstehe warum du das gemacht hast, aber es ist einfach shit. So machen wir das. Eigentlich produzieren wir eine Menge Tracks, von denen ich die meisten schreibe und Marcus sagt mir dann, was er davon hĂ€lt. Bevor Andere unsere Tracks hören, haben wir beide sie fĂŒr gut genug befunden."
Wie sieht ein Liveset von BOC aus?
"MS: Wir Ă€ndern unser Live-Setup immer wieder. Bei unseren ersten Gigs haben wir tatsĂ€chlich unser ganzes Equipment mitgenommen, was natĂŒrlich totaler Schwachsinn war. Danach haben wir dann immer weniger aufgebaut, was auch fĂŒr unsere Arbeitsweise ein interessanter Aspekt war. Im Moment ĂŒberlegen wir, alles auf einen einzigen Sequencer aufzubauen und da werden wir uns wohl fĂŒr einen MPC2000 von Akai entscheiden. Bei einem Live-Gig kann man dann immer noch parallel zu den Drums auf einem Synthi spielen, ohne daß es unharmonisch klingt."
Über Live-Acts wird ja oft gemĂ€kelt, weil es keinen wirklichen Standart dafĂŒr gibt. Was ist deiner Meinung nach der hĂ€ufigste Fehler von Live-Acts?
"MS: Oft wird etwas völlig anderes gespielt, als es von den Platten her bekannt ist. Ich war immer sehr enttĂ€uscht, wenn eine Band beim Live-Gig etwas ganz anderes spielte. Manche sagen zwar, daß man auf einer BĂŒhne etwas Einzigartiges schaffen sollte, aber ich persönlich bin da anderer Meinung. Manche versteifen sich auch nur auf Rhythmik und vergessen jede Form von Melodie, was ich dann auch eher schade finde. "
Dave Being ist auch aus Edinburgh. Kennt ihr euch eigentlich?
"MS: Nein, leider nicht und wir sind das auch schon öfter gefragt worden. Wir mĂŒssen ihn wohl anrufen. Wir wohnen auch nicht direkt in Edinburgh, sondern etwas außerhalb auf dem Lande. Ich könnte auch nicht sagen, daß wir zu irgendeiner Szene gehören."
Das fĂ€llt den meisten KĂŒnstlern aber auch erst dann auf, wenn in der Presse ĂŒber die Szene einer bestimmten Stadt geschrieben wird und mal wieder versucht wird, einen "Sound of..." zu kreieren.
"MS: Da hast du wohl recht. Sicherlich wĂŒrde es uns eher auffallen, wenn wir eine Zeit lang nicht mehr in Edinburgh wohnen und arbeiten wĂŒrden. Von Manchester kann man schon behaupten, daß dort viele Musiker gleiche oder sehr Ă€hnliche Elemente in ihrer Musik benutzen. Wir selber sind dennoch eher EinzelgĂ€nger."
Wenn eure Musik an einem öffentlichen Platz gespielt werden sollte, welcher wÀre das dann?
"MS: Das ist eine schwierige Frage. Ich glaube, ich wĂŒrde mir wohl ein offenes Feld aussuchen. Unsere Musik ist eher Daytime-Music im Gegensatz zu Nighttime-Music. Wenn wir uns ausuchen könnten, von wem und wo unsere Musik gehört wird, dann wĂ€re es wohl von gut angetrunkenen Menschen an einem sonnigen Tag irgendwo im Freien. That's the situation when I'am writing stuff."


Gregor Wildermann [email protected]

It's just by default that we do electronic music.
This sentence soaked with irony is by Mike Sandison, who together with Marcus released the eighth record on Skam Records making this label from Manchester even more interesting. Like the co-operators of Autechre , The duo from Edingburgh is one of the groups that do not allow modern electronic music to disappear from the map of England.

The band's first visit abroad took them to the Sunflower Festival near Regensburg, where with good intentions met the consequences of bad weather and, like many other DJs, Live-acts and ravers, they had to struggle with muddy feet. In the middle of Michael Fakesch and xxxxx, the Boards of Canada for the MASK 1 were able to prevail. This, the Skampler sampler and their upcoming album on this label were reason enough to ask again the questions about where and when .....

Mike Sandison: We started at school, actually in the early 80s, about 1983/84. I am now 26 years old, Marcus is 24. At the time we worked under different names and with different musicians and there were also times when we were a real band with 4 musicians and a vocalist. I myself was the drummer. We are kind of multi-instrumentalists. Somehow we found out that we could work best as the latter and were also more electronic in this phase. We used very rough equipment such as a ghettoblaster and older hi-fi gear and we wanted to make it sound as good as possible. Even as we bought more and more expensive equipment, we wanted to create this raw sound. We use it in a way that others would not. Many would use high-tech samplers to make very clean and pure sounds; We play deliberately wrong pitches and hack the normal structures. We deliberately fuck it about so that it gets really kind of rough. There are now also modern methods with which one can sound something as if it had been recorded in the 60s, which in itself is a bit ironic.
Where does the name Boards of Canada come from?
MS: There is an agency in Canada called "The National Film Board of Canada". They produce nature and animal films and / or political documentaries, mainly dealing with North America and Canada. In the 70s these films were very popular and their soundtracks have influenced us very much. There were always very beautiful tunes, which were composed by an Acid-Casualty with long hair and many synthesizers. There were brilliant sounds and we tried to make our tracks sound like this. Since we could not name ourselves National Film Board of Canada for legal reasons, we simply changed the name slightly, and from this became Boards of Canada.
Is the picture on the skam record also from one of these films?
MS: This picture comes from a movie made by a friend of mine. We have a small company called Music70 and it also produces Super 8 and video films, many of which are quite experimental. I myself am also doing some of these film works and we will soon be shooting our first Super 8 film in feature film length, complete with our own music.
What is the theme of this film?
MS: It will probably be a road movie, but also in a rather broad concept. It is supposed to be a road movie in five parts and that is all we know at the moment.
How did the record get on the Skam label?
MS: After making a first record on our own label, Music70, we wanted to get in contact with Rephlex, Warp and Skam, as we were somewhat fans of these labels and their music. There were only 100 copies of this record and I myself still have 70 copies with me. The other 30 were sent to record stores and these three labels, and after two days, Sean Booth from Autechre called, saying, "Yah, we're gonna do something together." That naturally pleased us.
What do you think is the quality of Autechres music?
MS: They are doing really original rhythm-work, but they do not do jungle music. Many make the mistake that Jungle is the only alternative. On every new record, you notice their introspection for technical details, and they try to make one of a kind, truly independent music you can not pack into any genre.
Will there be more releases on Music70 and what else can we hear from you in the future?
MS: Music will certainly be released in the future, but at the moment we have too many other projects. On Skam will be an album in CD format to appear and I hope that we can finish it in the next 6 to 8 weeks. In addition, we will make a single and then an album for Mike Paradina's label Planet-Ό. He had received a copy of the Twoism-EP, which came out in January '96 and contains material from the summer '95. One of the tracks ( "See ya later") was then also on the B side of the Skam-EP. Mike got a hold of this record somehow and then a few months later also called.
Does your new material differ from the tracks on the Skam EP?
MS: We have already developed further. Much of it sounds much more organic and the tracks are also much more composing. We also often try to change the track from the beginning to the end, and we describe it as a 'psychedelic approach', which we find somehow good. We have also heard a lot of folk-music from the 70s, such as Incredible String Band or Joni Mitchell, who also sound very organic and natural by their choice of instruments such as flutes. These sound sources we have increasingly sampled. We processed them, destroyed them and turned them back into something very electronic. It will nevertheless be noted that these influences exist.
What is the risk that a label like Skam will lose quality through a certain popularity?
MS: I know from Andy Maddocks (Label boss) that he is concerned that the label is currently being given too much attention and that too many interviews and articles appear. He is worried and I agree with him. For journalists like you or musicians like me, a label like Skam is of course very attractive, especially since you have to imagine how little financial resources behind it. It is best to have a label so underground that nobody knows where it comes from and who makes it. It is also up to the artists of a label to try everything, so that the label remains unique and represents something special.
Do you think that your music benefits from different artistic interests??
MS: Definitely. Personally, I would not want to concentrate solely on music; That is not in my nature at all. Many musicians are also DJs and many from the television and film industry are interested in music. In my opinion, it is the rather cheap hardware that allows many people to record their own records and make their own videos. With computers you can do the artwork yourself and distribute it over the internet.
Richard James uses special software to make records like the Rubberjohnny. Do you also experiment with such programs?
MS: We do not use any computers at all. Every time we try to do something with a PC or Mac, we just have problems and it is annoying. We like Hardware. Much of our equipment looks like it could be in a big factory. We like knobs. Big things with knobs and dials. Of course, we also have digital equipment, but computers are not among them. I do not like these small displays, either because you can not work at all instinctively. Computers are simply not designed for it, are too fragile and go way too fast. We like to come into the studio and kick it about.
What are the advantages of working as a duo?
MS: Definitely quality control. Some artists, which I will not mention here, publish too much and often too average material. If they had a partner, he could tell them: I understand why you did it, but it's just shit. So we do it. Actually, we produce a lot of tracks, of which I write the most and Marcus tells me then what he thinks of it. Before others hear our tracks, we've both found them good enough.
What is a BoC Liveset like?
MS: We change our live setup again and again. At our first gigs, we actually took all our equipment, which was, of course, total nonsense. Then less and less built up, which was also an interesting aspect for our way of working. At the moment, we are thinking about building everything on a single sequencer, and we will probably choose an MPC2000 from Akai. At a live gig, you can still play parallel to the drums on a synth without sounding inaccurate.
Live-Acts is often muttered because there is no real standard for it. What do you think is the most common mistake of live acts?
MS: Often something completely different is played than is known from the records. I was always very disappointed when a band played something different at the live gig. Some say that you should create something unique on a stage, but I personally disagree. Some are only stubborn, and forget every form of melody, which I find rather a pity.
Dave Being is also from Edinburgh. Do you know him?
MS: No, unfortunately not, and we have been asked that often. We should call him. We also don't live directly in Edinburgh, but a bit out in the country. I could say we don't belong to any scene.
But most artists do not notice this until the press writes about the scene of a certain city and tries to create a "sound of ..." again..
MS: You're probably right. Certainly, it would be more noticeable if we were not to live and work in Edinburgh for a while. From Manchester it can be said that many musicians use the same or very similar elements in their music. We ourselves nevertheless are rather loners.
If your music was to be played in a public place, what would it be?
MS: This is a difficult question. I think I would probably choose an open field. Our music is more like daytime music as opposed to nighttime music. If we could choose where and from where our music is heard, it would probably be from well-drunk people on a sunny day somewhere outside. That's the situation when I'm writing stuff.

The Age of Aquarius

title The Age of Aquarius
author The Cosmic Crofter
publication EHX
date 1998/03/25
issue
pages
The Age of Aquarius is an interview by The Cosmic Crofter originally published online Mar. 1998 on the EHX website.

[2]

This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.

Edinburgh-based Boards of Canada are due to release their debut album "Music Has the Right to Children" for Warp, licensed from Skam in Manchester. The Crofter interviewed them about their past, present and future, and attempted to discover what now lies within their six-sided oyster ...

The duo originally began serious recording at the end of 80's, having spent their early youth playing around on "home hi-fi" and in conventional bands. Various other members have come and gone, but Mike Sandison and Marcus Eoin have remained the core of the unit over the last 3 or 4 years. In December of 1997, two other members joined the Hexagon Sun bunker, resulting in the acquisition of some "useful technology". Just who these other members remains a secret, as they "are more interested in the psychological capabilities of sounds and images than their aesthetics. I can't talk about current or previous collaborators because Hexagon Sun doesn't do that".

Having always been interested in art in all its apparitions, the two have continually attempted to combine their beliefs, hopes and fears into an all-encompassing sensual experience, primarily in the fields of music, film, writing and more recently web design, "the official Turquoise Hexagon Sun website will up and running by Easter 1998 with a section on BoC as well as 'THS Scripture' buyable in dead tree format, Music70 BoCumentaries and 'Emephant Diagram', the number cruncher", I am assured that all will become clear.

In terms of other artistic formats, they are keen to point out that the visual and literary side is by no means a colorful backdrop ... "It's not secondary to the music, it's all the same thing. We use video on stage, but it's not for wallpaper, it's got things in it which could damage you". The two collaborate with other artists under the banner "Music70", a name which they have previously used for production copyright, and is now used as the collective term for themselves and like-minded friends, creating art for non-commercial and usually personal consumption.

To witness a BoC live performance confirms their agenda, "We're not interested in ambient filmmaking, we are interested in triggers, embedding and subliminals ... (during a live performance) we like people to pay attention to the messages on the screens". The duo are keen to get the extra-melody points across, but are also able to resign themselves to the fact that for the best part, most BoC followers are simply interested in the skin-deep appearance of the music, and thus the BoC existence has a definite duality. "We hope that the music stands up for itself. You could choose to listen to the melodies on the record and enjoy them purely as melodies, or you could read into the references a bit more and perhaps connect with that, or you could choose to come and see us live and see our thoughts abstracted out on video, and if it works the listener might go 'Yeah this is familiar but I don't know why'. We just see these as forms of communication which can be used to affect the listener in an attractive and maybe even addictive way".

The sharp and sometimes disturbing images can be thought provoking, although in some cases baffling. I challenge them on the point that, along with their sometimes obscure and almost pretentious song titles, they are out to deliberately perplex the perceiver. "There is a story behind every title we use. If a title seems made-up, it's either an equation, an acronym, or a hybrid. Some titles are personal stories, such as 'Everything You Do Is A Balloon', which was a realization made long ago in the forest".

So what could possibly be in a name? "Boards of Canada" is particularly good one, and I was once informed that it was chosen due to its particularly inert and almost meaningless nature. Digging deeper, their childhood exposure to the work of The National Filmboard of Canada reveals a more direct cull.

The influences that spark the creation of the song titles are just as varied as the influences which create the music they produce. Not confined to audio releases, they cite the many facets of the latter half of 20th Century culture, including film, TV and science journals. They claim that taking the positive aspects of a product does not always provide food for their thought, but rather the underlying meaning or cosmetic triviality, "... we are interested in everything that we can re-interpret. I don't want to give you list of names, but you know we could be just as easily captivated by a piece of T.V. theme music, or Eighties' pop, for instance. The enlightened parts in our music are relative to the banal or naive parts". When pushed for particularly prominent players ... "Hundertwasser, Svankmeyer, New Scientist, Robert Anton Wilson, Documentary films and articles, Jamie Nelson, The Archdrude... we are interested in everything!".

As previously stated, BoC's beginnings began, like every proper electronic experimentation combo should, mucking around with tape loops while still at school. Briefly tapping their cap to the "originators", they see thier humble beginnings as the first necessary steps to what they produce today. "... we used to chop up shortwave radio recordings on an ancient portable recorder, and make tunes out of them by punching-in and layering tracks in a crude way. I'm talking about 1981-1982. We still do that now except that we use better equipment. I think it's all been said before about Glass, Reich, Varese, Cage etc. being the originators of techno and ambient music. We prefer to think of anyone who has ever picked up an object and made a new noise with it as an originator".

BoC are the first to admit that the influences that fuel the creation of their tracks are by no means trivial, but prefer to cloak their personal beliefs in more universal and ubiquitous issues. "We read a lot, we pay close attention to what's going on, so you probably have to look at our work pretty closely to pick up on things, and we do try to compose strong emotional melodies ...", the emotion of which is something which I propose to be the serious side of their nature, "... yes we have a melancholy sound, and we do have strong opinions, but we only filter some of them into the music. I don't want to project a political side into the music because the music is in it's own area", states Mike.

The "melancholy" sound which has become a trademark and which may stick like mud over time, does not hamper BoC's enthusiasm for the perfect "song-structure". The roots of their musical career lie in the participation in "normal bands" using "live instruments", which, they claim, may have only increased their combined melodic ear. Marcus confirms the point, "I think you can trigger emotion much more easily with a melody than you can with a rhythm, although it can be done with a rhythm, listen to Jerry Goldsmith or the The Incredible String Band ... I'm personally more interested in melody than sound, although the effectiveness of a Boards of Canada melody probably depends on it's context. And that'll be why we have a reputation for downgrading the sound. ". As with most serious electronic musicians of our time, and probably more believably BoC than others, they claim their current sound is underivative from current styles, "We don't usually listen to contemporary electronic music. Our collections might surprise you. Or alarm you maybe ...", such as? "You're looking for examples? Phil Harris, Devo, Claude Denjean, Walter/Wendy Carlos, Jesus Christ Superstar, DAF, Ween, TV themes, Tomita, MBV, Joni Mitchell ...".

Alarm us or not, the new BoC album to be released on Warp in April, only adds to BoC's mystique as renegades of "the intelligent twisted regions of electronic melody". Having been friends with the people at Warp for some time, they have developed a lasting raport that should hopefully see them good for years to come, "we all go round for tea scones regularly!". Now label buddies with their much loved Autechre et al, BoC see Warp as one of the few labels "bold enough to head away from the overtly 'techno' sound". They cite Skam as another more underground label which shares the same conviction, and funnily enough, these are the two labels which have hosted the BoC name so far. However, their association with Skam will not end with the signing to Warp, "Skam is a hive of new ideas, and there will be a lot of essential music coming from them this year, and we'll be in there, although you probably won't know it's us that you're listening to. The move to Warp was mainly out of respect for the label and it's artists, and friendship".

Boc's confidence can be attributed to the fact that they may now have reached Stage 1 of their long-term plan, and now use the Warp engine to thrust their more abstract and artistic ideas into the public domain. Their use of Super-8mm film and video images during their live performance will obviously be seen to increase and diversify from this point on. The artistic licence has finally been handed over. However, over their long career, the live shows have been few and far between, and one receives the vibe that the whole thing can be particularly tedious. One reason for this may be, from what I have so far gathered from BoC's character, that they are perfectionists in every sense, but still feel they have introduce another edge to the public rendition. Mike explains, "Every time we play live we do it a different way, technically. This is unintentional ... I like to play a familiar tune to the audience, but then make it do something totally new. We just haven't hit upon the best technical method for doing this yet, so for every gig we sit and go 'How are we gonna do it this time?'". Perhaps hitting on that "best technical method" is the reason we do not see BoC headlining many nights? "We do put a lot of work into every gig, and this slows things down. One gig takes a month of preparation, usually involving visuals and programming, and this can only be done when we're not writing. We'll be going out on tour at the end of the year".

Indeed, BoC have only ever played once in their home city, Edinburgh, which was last year when they and Think Tank supported Autechre. I was in attendance, and I put it to them that their sound and general presence was alien to the city as a whole. "We've only played in Edinburgh once so far, so I don't really know what the local Illuminati think of us. I think there is something simmering quietly now in the city, but we're based out in the country ... I'm not aware of an "Edinburgh sound", although there are quite a few threatening noises going on in there. Yeah we keep ourselves out of things a bit, I guess if we had more time we would be more involved. We make brief forays into Edinburgh clubland and then we retreat to cover. ".

So if they rarely venture out into the clubland of The Capital, what do BoC see as a great night out? "Somewhere in the hills, in a huge bonfire, with the beautiful Julian Cope ...".



Board Clever

title Board Clever
author Richard Hector-Jones
publication Jockey Slut
date 1998/04
issue Vol.02 No.13 (April/May 1998)
pages p.20



"Board Clever" is an interview by Richard Hector-Jones originally published in Jockey Slut magazine Vol. 02 No. 13 (April/May 1998). It was published alongside the featured review of Music Has the Right to Children.

This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.

Boards of Canada are breathing new life into the experimental end of electronic music. And you can whistle their tunes...

Simplicity is very important to us,
offers Michael Sandison one half of Scottish electronic pairing Boards Of Canada.
It's easier to affect people emotionally if you keep things simple. Obviously there's a lot of great music in the world that's complex but as far as we're concerned the important thing is that you can whistle our tunes.

Boards Of Canada are fixed on melody and emotion in music. It's a rare obsession in the world of British electronica but it gives their sound a uniqueness, a ghostly sense of yearning, and a depth of emotion that sets them far outside the pack. Music Has the Right to Children, their debut album, is the product of their fixation; a melancholy mix of rhythms and melodies revealing more shading and character with every listen.

If it doesn't affect me emotionally it doesn't interest me,
explains fellow Boarder Marcus Eoin.
I think a lot of it is trying to capture a nostalgic feeling buried somewhere in our minds. We are nostalgic people trying to get back moments from our pasts.

All of this might lead you to think that's it's an 'oh so serious' album which isn't true. It's simply refreshing to see such a human approach behind the employment of modern musical technology.

Music for commercials, documentary soundtracks and children's TV themes,
continues Michael.
The spaces in between the music you're supposed to listen to. That's where our interest lies. These melodies might only last a second at the end of a TV programme but they are quietly more important to the public psyche than most pop music.

The first record Boards Of Canada released was the self financed and limited hardly any Twoism EP. They sent the record to Autechre's Sean Booth who phoned back the very next day suggesting they mail a copy to Andy Maddock's Manchester based SKAM label. (Autechre release records on SKAM with various other bods under the Gescom guise). The result was Hi Scores, a 12" that brought the pair to a wider audience and paved the way for a follow up 7" Aquarius and now a full length album jointly put out by Warp and SKAM.

It would seem that, with the help of Boards of Canada, Britain's homegrown electronica music scene might finally step out from the shadow of the machine to explore the more emotional and human avenues.

Strange to think something so simple could be so exciting.

Richard Hector-Jones


A Bunker Full of Memories

title A Bunker Full of Memories
author René Passet
publication Forcefield
date 1998/04/14
issue
pages
A Bunker Full of Memories is an interview by René Passet originally published online Apr. 1998 on the Forcefield website. [3]

This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.

'Strong emotional melodies'. That pretty much sums up the essence of what Boards of Canada is about. After various hard-to-get releases on cassettes, Skam Records (and it's enigmatic offshoot Mask) the Scottish duo has just released their debut album Music Has The Right To Children on Warp Records. The first of five on the Sheffield label!

Five albums. That might explain why Mike Sanderson and Marcus Eoin are extremely busy in their Hexagon Studio and reject most interview requests. So many tracks to finish, so little time. But Forcefield managed to enter the bunker which hosts the Hexagon Studio. Via E-mail. Here is what they said.

The name Boards of Canada is inspired by The National Filmboard of Canada. Could you explain what was so special about the nature-documentaries and their soundtracks?
"Yes the NFB films were one of our influences when we were younger. I think most of their films have been socio-political, but there are animations and suchlike. The thing about the older films is that the quality of picture and soundtrack wasn't perfect, it was grainy and wobbly. We used to record compositions on cheap tapes which gave a similar rough quality, and we've always returned to that sound because it feels personal and nostalgic."
Where you living in Canada when you saw the documentaries?
"We saw a lot of those films here in the UK during the 1970's, but we both lived in Alberta briefly in the late 70's."
Apart from these soundtracks, you also namedrop Joni Mitchell and the Incredible String Band when it comes to instrumentation. What was so special about their musical aproach?
"Much of the music we like is not electronic, although we've probably been influenced by Devo. We love acoustic music on old recordings because they tend to have natural qualities such as tape compression and distortion. But I think Joni Mitchell's voice is so beautiful it almost sounds synthesised, so maybe there's the connection. The Incredible String Band still sound unusual today, because they changed the arrangement for every song, and their own influences were far and wide apart, and they always wrote emotional melodies which were a bit unusual, you know, with melodies which took unexpected twists. A unique band."
What else do you consider important musical influences, past and present?
"Devo, Walter/Wendy Carlos, DAF, television themes, corporate jingles from TV and film, Jeff Wayne, Julian Cope, My Bloody Valentine, 80's pop music."
Could you tell me more about your so-called Psychedelic aproach, the alterations from start to finish in a track?
"We sometimes make a tune metamorphose as it plays. An example is "Nlogax" from the "Hi Scores" EP on Skam, which begins like an old electro or disco track but halfway through it suddenly becomes something nightmarish, like your brain is starting to malfunction in the middle of the tune. Psychedelics make music sound entirely different. Tiny details become massive, a five-minute track can feel like it's five hours long on psychedelics. You know when you're on a ride at a fairground, the pitch of the music rises and falls because of the Doppler-Effect? That's another thing we love to do in our tracks, and it's a fairly psychedelic-sounding effect too."
How *DO* you write music? What's the starting point? A feeling, a sound or an idea? And who of you two makes the first sketches?
"It's a team effort. Usually the starting point is a melody. We write hundreds of little melodies, and the most attractive ones last in our minds. We go back to them and pick the ones that really stand out, then we start piecing together rhythms. Both of us write the tunes and rhythms. On the album "Music Has The Right To Children" 50% was by Marcus, 50% by me (Mike, rp). Not one of the tracks was totally written by one person."
The album is joint release by Skam & Warp. Was this done to improve promotion & distribution?
"We began work on the album at the beginning of 1997 and it was meant to be for Skam, but in the summer Warp came to us and said "we'd like this album", so the labels decided to co-release it."
Skam gained respect amongst IDM-minded musiclovers in very little time. A new Skam record is considered something special nowadays. But they're always hard to find.
"Skam is truly underground, truly independent. I'm sure that if we asked Skam to release only one copy of a new release, they would do it."
But why make music that (almost) no one can get their hands on, like the two MASK ep's, which were released in issues of 100 and 200 copies?
"We've been making music since we were at school in the early 80's, and nobody will ever hear most of it, so it doesn't bother us to do a really limited release. Our friends and families hear all the music we write, and that's all that matters really. You wouldn't believe how much music we have on tape."
But why release records at all, if all that matters is that your friends and families hear all the music? You must feel some sort of proud when records are bought by musicfans and get good press reviews. Or don't you?
"Of course, it's lovely to hear that people we've never met are really enjoying our music, because it feels as though we must have something in common, I mean psychologically, with those listeners. So it is satisfying, and fascinating."
Do you feel any pressure, now that you have signed a contract with Warp?
"Yes, that's part of what you accept when you sign to a bigger label."
Warp has announced a second BoC-album, to be released at the end of this year. In what ways will it differ from the first album?
"I won't give away our plans for the next one, but it will be different. It's going to be stranger, more concentrated, more melodic."
Melody is very important in most of your work. While many other electronic musicians focus more on rhythm. Is this perhaps one of the secrects of your succes?
"We're much more interested in melody than rhythm, and we appreciate the emotional power of a melody. Maybe that's too uncool for a lot of electronic artists."
Some people might argue that Boards of Canada make 'depressing' music.What would you like to comment on that? Are you pessimistic or optimistic towards life?
"We're very optimistic. We might sound melancholy, but that's just the way we write music."
What kind of special equipment do you use? I understand some of your machines are quite big. And you have something what you call 'the SecretWeapon'.
"If I told you what the secret weapon is, it wouldn't be a secret anymore. We have more than one really. We use a mixture of old and new equipment. We don't have lots of synths, we use hi-fi gear and other tricks to achieve our sound."
You run a company called Music70. What is the goal of this company?
"Music70 makes short films and creates images, paintings and other art. It's done purely for ourselves and our friends, and it has no commercial aims at all. Most Music70 work is like D.I.Y., but it's always emotional."
How is the planned full length Super-8 movie with soundtrack coming along?
"That film will start shooting in summer."
You use a bunker in the Pentland Hills as a studio. Does the atmosphere of the Hexagon Studio reflects in any way on your music?
"We don't have an urban lifestyle, so that might make us unusual in electronic music. The things we do with friends are more rural or organic, like outdoor gatherings and so on."
Some of the tracktitles are quite cryptic. Could you please explain some of them?
"Our titles are always cryptic references which the listener might understand or might not. Some of them are personal, so the listener is unlikely to know what it refers to. "Music Has The Right To Children" is a statement of our intention to affect the audience using sound. "The Color Of The Fire" was a reference to a friend's psychedelic experience. "Kaini Industries" is a company that was set up in Canada ( by coincidence in the month Mike was born), to create employment for a settlement of Cree Indians. "Olson" is the surname of a family we know, and "Smokes Quantity" is the nickname of a friend of ours."
Is Bocuma perhaps named after Bochum Welt? It sounds very 'Bochummy' :)
"Sorry, I'm afraid not... It's an abbreviation/crossover of BOC Maxima and Documa, an obscure reference to 80's video culture."


interview by René Passet, April 1998.


The album Music Has The Right To Children is out now on Warp/Skam, as is their remix of Mira Calix' Sandsings. WAP100 will contain an exclusive track by Boards of Canada, called Orange Romeda. Soon the Turquise Hexagon Sun website will open it's gates.

Check out EHX for a very informing interview Cosmic Crofter had with Boards of Canada. And for the Boards of Canada page.

reviews at Forcefield:

Various - Skampler - CD - Silent/Skam
Various Artists - Mask EP - 12" - Mask
Boards of Canada - High Scores - 12" - Skam

The Ottawan Empire

title The Ottawan Empire
author Toby Manning
publication NME
date 1998/04
issue Apr. 18th, 1998
pages p.33



"The Ottawan Empire" is an interview by Toby Manning originally published Apr 1998 in NME magazine April 18th, 1998.


This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.

Who are?
An enigmatic duo holed up in a rural bunker somewhere near Edinburgh, from where they emit languorous, airy electronica with the charm and simplicity of cartoon theme tunes.


What’s the name about?
Like their music, it comes from a shared past in front of the TV.
When we were kids a lot of our favourite TV programmes, particularly wildlife documentaries, were made by the Film Board Of Canada,
says Mike Sandison, the elder and more vocal of these two bearded urchins whose woolly hats seem to be surgically attached to their heads. He and Marcus Eoin have been friends since they were toddlers, growing up in Scotland before sharing a brief sojourn in the Canada when their parents moved there for work.


Documentaries? Yawn...
We just loved the soundtracks,
counters Mike.
It's something people don’t normally pay much attention to. Like the strings at the end of programmes, the corporate logos with a little flourish and a little happy melody. They’re ultimate in psychedelia, but no-one ever notices them or talks about them. Whereas a pop song disappears after a few weeks, a jingle will be repeated for ten years and end up subliminally lodged in people’s brains.

Boards Of Canada attempt to create their own versions of these tunes -soundtracks for imaginary wildlife documentaries, jingles for invented corporations. Or, as Marcus puts it:

An image of something you can’t quite remember, but that sounds like it should be familiar.
Not exactly banging club tracks, then?

Hardly. Their debut album for Warp, Music Has The Right To Children, is equally reminiscent of forgotten TV themes, all powered by rhythms distantly related to hiphop. It’s a strangely rural sound, infinitely less mechanised than the average Warp record.

We kind of see what we do as folk music - just made electronically,
says Mike. That said, there’s also a distinctly sinister undercurrent inherent in their stuttering, cut-up vocals.
Subliminal messages at play, perhaps?
You’ll probably find all these Ozzy Osbourne fans committing suicide after listening too deeply to our music,
chuckles Mike. Then there’s that malicious psychedelic edge, too, hardly all hippy vibes and sunshine.
Psychedelic experiences are more attractive to us if they’re creepy,
says Mike, adding that such chemical shenanigans have already lost the band one member to date.
Let’s just say it got to the point where it wasn’t recreational any more,
explains Mike, grimly.


And what’s the kiddy connection?
We’re totally nostalgic about childhood,
admits Mike, before Marcus chips in,
Not that we’re that far removed from childhood. Sometimes you look at people and it seems like growing up is just the process of giving up everything you enjoy. The source of all our music is that we’ve refused to accept adulthood.

The nappy hardcore revival starts here!


Toby Manning


BOARDS OF CANADA’S ‘MUSIC HAS THE RIGHT TO CHILDREN’ ALBUM IS OUT ON WARP ON MONDAY.


Nice Melodies from Nice People

title Nice Melodies from Nice People
author Thaddeus Hermann
publication De:Bug
date 1998/05
issue Number 11
pages p.04



"Nice Melodies from Nice People" is an interview (in German) by Thaddeus Hermann originally published in De:Bug magazine Number 11, p.04.


This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.

Nette Melodien von netten Menschen

Boards Of Canada, das neueste Pferd im Warp-Stall.

Thaddeus Herrmann

[email protected]

Boards of Canada Fans hatten es bisher schwer, alle von den Schotten Michael Sandison und Marcus Eoin veröffentlichten Platten zu ergattern. Die erste EP, Twoism, erschien im Eigenverlag in einer Auflage von 100 StĂŒck, ein großer Teil der Auflage einer als Weihnachtssingle gedachten 7″ auf SKAM vergammeln derzeit in einem Wohnzimmer in Manchester – Schwierigkeiten mit diversen Vertrieben – und das beste BoC StĂŒck versteckt sich auf MASK 1, einer ebenfalls auf 100 StĂŒck limitierten Compilation 12″. Dabei hat diese Musik mehr Aufmerksamkeit verdient. Denn: Es geht um Melodien zwischen Science Fiction und Kitsch, und weil das oft dasselbe ist, irgendwie um frĂŒher. Irre catchy, vereinnehmend und 
 haunting. Melodien, die ein wohliges GefĂŒhl in der Magengegend machen, in Detroit wohl Memory Chords genannt werden und die einem die wirklich wichtigen Dinge in Erinnerung rufen: Sommerferien, in die Sonne blinzeln. Folgerichtig hat Warp, Heimat der blassen EnglĂ€nder, Boards of Canada jetzt eingekauft und mit Music Has the Right to Children eine Mischung aus vergriffenem und neuem Material vorlegt. Michael Sandison meldet sich am Karfreitag per Funktelefon bei mir, irgendwo unterwegs auf einer Autobahn bei Köln.

de:bug: Karfreitag auf Promotour? Muß das denn sein?
"Michael Sandison: Wir waren gestern noch in Paris und haben dort unzĂ€hlige Interviews gegeben, das war reichlich anstrengend. Heute sind wir nur in der Kölner Gegend rumgefahren und haben uns die Landschaft angesehen, alles sehr entspannt. Gerade haben wir Schloß besichtigt. Ich finde es toll hier! Die Landschaft erinnert mich an Schottland und der Regen im Moment erst recht!"
de:bug: Ihr werdet ja zur Zeit ganz hĂŒbsch rumgereicht. Wie fĂŒhlt sich das an?
"Michael Sandison: Es ist merkwĂŒrdig, aber natĂŒrlich auch schön, daß sich eine Menge Leute in Europa fĂŒr unserer Musik interessieren, gerade wenn man wie wir aus einem kleinen schottischen Dorf kommt, wo einfach nichts passiert. Noch fĂŒhlen wir uns richtig wohl!"
de:bug: Music Has the Right to Children
ich habe mich bei einem fragenden Nicken ertappt.
"Michael Sandison: Der Titel kommt von einem Lehrbuch fĂŒr den schulischen Musikunterricht aus den 70er Jahren. Es heißt: Children Have The Right To Music. Wenn man die beiden Begriffe Children und Music vertauscht bekommt der Satz eine völlig andere, sehr bedrohliche Konnotation."
de:bug: Bedrohlich ist Eure Musik aber nicht!
"Michael Sandison: Also, die netten Melodien benutzen wir, weil wir nette Leute sind! (lacht) But we like to fuck with people a little bit as well
NatĂŒrlich steckt in unserer Musik viel GefĂŒhl, sie wird oft mit Schlafliedern fĂŒr Kinder verglichen. Wir benutzen die Melodien aber sehr ĂŒberlegt , so daß lĂ€ngst nicht alles so harmlos ist, wie es auf den ersten Blick scheinen mag. Auf diese Weise verstecken wir Dinge in unserer Musik, die mehr was fĂŒr Erwachsene sind. Das merkt man auch dem Material an, an dem wir zur Zeit arbeiten. Warp möchte noch in diesem Jahr ein weiteres Album von uns veröffentlichen. Die Melodiearrangements der neuen Tracks sind noch darker geworden, auf diese Weise entsteht eine herrlich bittersĂŒĂŸe Stimmung. Definitiv extremer werden die Rhythmen, schneller und rougher. Aber bevor wir so ein Album veröffentlichen können, wollten wir einer breiteren Hörerschaft mit Music Has the Right to Children klarmachen, worum es bei den Boards of Canada geht: DIY
Do It Yourself
rougher Sound. Das sind unsere Wurzeln. Jetzt, wo das klar ist, können wir uns an neue Projekte machen."
de:bug: Erlaubt euch der Deal mit Warp denn ĂŒberhaupt noch Material auf anderen Labels zu veröffentlichen?
"Martin Sandison: Boards of Canada sind exclusiv bei Warp. Wir haben aber ein Abkommen, daß wir weiterhin Material auf anderen Labels veröffentlichen können, allerdings nicht unter diesem Namen. Es wird also auch wieder eine Platte auf SKAM geben. Da ist dann detektivischer SpĂŒrsinn gefragt!Music Has the Right to Children (Warp / Rough Trade) ist jetzt erhĂ€ltlich. ZITAT: Melodien die wirklich wichtige Dinge in Erinnerung rufen: Sommerferien, in die Sonne blinzeln."


Note: Translated using DeepL Translator[4].


"Nice Melodies from Nice People"


Boards Of Canada, the newest horse in the Warp stable.


Boards of Canada fans have had a hard time getting hold of all the records released by Scotsmen Michael Sandison and Marcus Eoin. The first EP, Twoism, was self-published in an edition of 100, a large portion of the edition of a 7″ on SKAM intended as a Christmas single is currently rotting in a living room in Manchester - difficulties with various distributors - and the best BoC track is hiding on MASK 1, a 12″ compilation also limited to 100 copies. This music deserves more attention. Because: it's about melodies between science fiction and "kitsch", and because that's often the same, somehow about earlier. Crazy catchy, engaging and ... haunting. Melodies that make you feel good in your stomach, are probably called memory chords in Detroit and remind you of the really important things: summer vacations, blinking into the sun. Consequently, Warp, home of the pale English, has now bought Boards of Canada and with Music Has the Right to Children presents a mixture of out-of-print and new material. Michael Sandison calls me on Good Friday, somewhere on the way on a highway near Cologne.

de:bug: Good Friday on a promotional tour? Does it have to be like that?
Michael Sandison: We were in Paris yesterday and gave countless interviews there, that was really exhausting. Today we just drove around the Cologne area and looked at the landscape, everything very relaxed. We just visited Schloß. I think it's great here! The landscape reminds me of Scotland and the rain at the moment even more so!
de:bug: You are being passed around quite nicely at the moment. How does that feel?
Michael Sandison: It's strange, but of course also nice that a lot of people in Europe are interested in our music, especially if you come from a small Scottish village like us, where just nothing happens. We still feel really comfortable!
de:bug: Music Has the Right to Children... I found myself nodding questioningly.
Michael Sandison: The title comes from a textbook for school music lessons from the 70s. It's called Children Have The Right To Music. If you swap the two terms Children and Music, the phrase gets a completely different, very threatening connotation.
de:bug: But your music is not threatening!
Michael Sandison: Well, we use the nice melodies because we are nice people! (laughs) But we like to fuck with people a little bit as well...Of course there's a lot of feeling in our music, it's often compared to lullabies for children. But we use the melodies very carefully, so that not everything is as harmless as it might seem at first sight. In this way we hide things in our music that are more for adults. You can see that in the material we are working on at the moment. Warp wants to release another album from us this year. The melodic arrangements of the new tracks have become even darker, creating a wonderfully bittersweet mood. The rythms are definitely more extreme, faster and rougher. But before we can release an album like this, we wanted to make it clear to a wider audience with Music Has the Right to Children what Boards of Canada is all about: DIY...Do It Yourself...rougher sound. That's what our roots are all about. Now that that's clear, we can move on to new projects.
de:bug: Does the deal with Warp allow you to release material on other labels at all?
Martin Sandison: Boards of Canada are exclusive to Warp. But we have an agreement that we can continue to release material on other labels, but not under that name. So there will be another record on SKAM. Music Has the Right to Children (Warp / Rough Trade) is available now. QUOTE: "Melodies that remind you of really important things: summer vacations, blinking into the sun."

Two Aesthetes of Electronic Music

title Two Aesthetes of Electronic Music
author Ariel Kyrou & Jean-Yves Leloup
publication Virgin Megaweb
date 1998/06
issue
pages



"Two Aesthetes of Electronic Music" is an interview (in French) by Ariel Kyrou & Jean-Yves Leloup originally published online Jun. 1998 on the Virgin Megaweb website.[5]

This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.


Deux esthĂštes de l'Ă©lectronique entre nostalgie de l'enfance et paranoĂŻa du futur


Au cƓur du Marais parisien, Ă  deux pas du MusĂ©e Picasso, on verrait bien Markus Eion et Michael Sandison comme des Ă©tudiants british en goguette culturelle. Ils ont l'air de hippies voyageurs et non de techno freaks, les deux Boards of Canada, avec leur sac Ă  dos, leur sourire mouillĂ© et leur bonnet de laine... On n'imagine pas tenir lĂ  les auteurs d'un album Ă©lectronique de pur cristal, paru sous une double signature on ne peut plus branchĂ©e : Skam et Warp, respectivement label pointu de Manchester et mythique maison mĂšre de l'electronica made in Sheffield. Cet album, "Music Has the Right to Children", ressemble Ă  sa pochette. L'image d'une famille ou d'un groupe d'amis, visiblement sur les pierres d'un chĂąteau en ruine. Image naĂŻve comme les univers du "ManĂšge enchantĂ©" et des "Animaux du Monde". Banale. Heureuse. Mais cette image est noyĂ©e de lumiĂšre bleu vert, comme sous l'effet d'une soucoupe volante en phase d'atterrissage. Et puis il y a ces visages lisses comme une pierre ponce. InquiĂ©tants. Des faces d'humains zombifiĂ©s. Que cachent Michael Sandison et Markus Eion par cette image d'innocence troublĂ©e ? Les deux Ecossais - dont nous avons confondu la voix dans l'interview - semblent ne faire qu'un, le premier un peu plus bavard que le second avec son accent Ă  se frapper le lobe de l'oreille...


VIRGIN MEGAWEB: Votre biographie est Ă©crite de telle façon qu'on ne voit pas bien qui vous ĂȘtes, ce que vous avez fait, vous ĂȘtes Ă©cossais, non ?
BOARDS OF CANADA: C'est juste, nous vivons en Ecosse, dans la campagne Ă  quelques kilomĂštres d'Edimbourg...
Apparemment, vous n'avez jamais Ă©tĂ© liĂ©s Ă  une scĂšne ou Ă  un style particulier de musique ? Vous semblez assez isolĂ©s ?
Oui, ce n'est que depuis deux ans que nous avons commencé à prendre des contacts avec d'autres musiciens, en particulier des artistes de Skam Records et de chez Warp. En fait, cela fait depuis trÚs longtemps que le groupe vit, entre amis. Cela remonte au début des années 80, lorsque nous étions à l'école...
Vous avez commencĂ© adolescent Ă  faire de la musique en rĂ©alitĂ© ?
Yeah ! Nous avions tous deux une dizaine d'annĂ©es, quelque chose comme ça. Nous avons appris Ă  jouer des instruments plus jeunes encore, puis trĂšs tĂŽt nous avons manipulĂ© des enregistrements, des cassettes et bandes magnĂ©tiques, faisant des collages. Nous avons commencĂ© Ă  Ă©crire et jouer de maniĂšre plus sĂ©rieuse aux environs de 1987, il y a dix ans, dans le format qui est le nĂŽtre.
Vous deux seulement ?
Non, avec d'autres musiciens, dans le cadre d'un véritable groupe bien plus large. Mais, il y a quelques années, aprÚs avoir joué des guitares et de la batterie acoustique, nous sommes revenus à une forme plus franchement électronique...
En réalité, lorsque vous avez commencé à jouer, c'était plutÎt comme un jeu d'adolescents, expérimentant avec des enregistrements de films et des instruments. Vous ne cherchiez pas à faire carriÚre...
On s'amusait avec des sons qui nous plaisaient, d'oĂč qu'ils viennent. Notre parcours est un peu compliquĂ©. D'abord, on a expĂ©rimentĂ© sans se poser de questions, avec les moyens du bord, puis on a beaucoup travaillĂ© avec des musiciens et de vrais instruments, on a complexifiĂ© notre musique. Il y a cinq ans, elle sonnait beaucoup plus gothique, plus proche du rock expĂ©rimental, avec des vocaux Ă  l'occasion... Il y avait quand mĂȘme pas mal d'Ă©lectronique, dĂ©jĂ  on samplait nos propres instruments. Puis nous sommes revenus Ă  un esprit plus proche de nos dĂ©buts, simple et instinctif, Ă  la seule diffĂ©rence que nous utilisons dĂ©sormais toutes les merveilles du numĂ©rique, et qu'il est donc bien plus facile de s'amuser et d'obtenir ce qu'on souhaite...
Vous vous sentez proches de toute la gĂ©nĂ©ration du home studio ?
En un sens, peut-ĂȘtre. Notre dĂ©marche des dĂ©buts avec nos vieux appareils Ă  enregistrer Ă©tait comme une version pauvre de ce que d'autres ont fait par la suite avec le home studio. Mais si on a Ă©tĂ© proche de l'esprit de gĂ©nĂ©ration, c'est par hasard et par moment, car nous avons toujours avancĂ© un peu isolĂ©s dans notre coin, nous inspirant de rock comme d'Ă©lectronique.
Vous n'avez aucun lien avec la gĂ©nĂ©ration de l'acid house ?
Non. En rĂ©alitĂ©, Ă  cette Ă©poque, au dĂ©but des annĂ©es 90, nous enregistrions une musique avec des vocaux et des guitares, trĂšs influencĂ©e par des groupes de rock expĂ©rimental et atmosphĂ©rique comme My Bloody Valentine. Ce n'est qu'avant et aprĂšs l'explosion de l'acid house, en dĂ©calage complet, que nous avons peut-ĂȘtre Ă©tĂ© proches du mouvement...
Finalement, pourquoi alors ĂȘtes-vous revenus Ă  l'Ă©lectronique ?
C'Ă©tait plus naturel pour nous... Nous avons toujours beaucoup travaillĂ©, peaufinant sans cesse nos morceaux, mĂȘme lorsqu'ils sonnaient plus rock. Pendant un mois, deux mois, on revient sur nos morceaux, changeant un son ici, en ajoutant un autre... On se sample nous-mĂȘmes sans cesse, revenir Ă  un son presque exclusivement Ă©lectronique, c'Ă©tait simplement aller jusqu'au bout de notre logique.
Cette opportunitĂ© de sampler grĂące aux nouveaux outils technologiques, que vous n'aviez pas Ă  vos dĂ©buts, Ă©tait-elle l'une des raisons de votre retour Ă  l'Ă©lectronique ?
Yeah... Cette technologie nous a permis de simplifier notre dĂ©marche. Avec le sampler, vous avez le contrĂŽle absolu de votre musique. Vous pouvez prendre le son d'un instrument, et le faire sonner Ă  votre guise Ă  coups d'aller retour. Un exemple : sur notre dernnier album, il y a des titres pour lesquels nous avons utilisĂ© un piano. GrĂące au sampling, nous avons transformĂ© le son de ce piano de plein de façons diffĂ©rentes, au point de le faire sonner comme un trĂšs trĂšs vieux piano, ou au point que personne ne se rende compte en Ă©coutant l'album qu'il y a du piano. MĂȘme topo pour les guitares. Nous avons jouĂ© d'instruments Ă©lectriques ou acoustiques pour "Music Has The Right To Children", mais nous avons complĂštement retravaillĂ© leur son grĂące Ă  l'Ă©lectronique.
Pourquoi ces mĂ©lodies enfantines sur votre album, d'oĂč cela vient-il ?
On y retrouve l'Ă©cho des mĂ©lodies qui ont marquĂ© notre enfance, et ces mĂ©lodies, pour la plupart, viennent de la tĂ©lĂ©, et notamment des films et Ă©missions enfantines. C'est l'univers qui a marquĂ© notre gĂ©nĂ©ration. Nous avons tous le mĂȘme Ăąge. Nous avons grandi en voyant les mĂȘmes programmes TV, et c'est pour nous une influence bien plus forte que les musiques d'aujourd'hui ou que d'autres musiques que nous Ă©coutions Ă  l'Ă©poque. Ce sont ces airs qui restent dans nos tĂȘtes, qu'on le veuille ou non...
Vous ĂȘtes trĂšs nostalgiques de votre enfance ?
Yeah... MĂȘme chez des groupes comme Autechre, sous une surface trĂšs expĂ©rimentale, trĂšs minimale et industrielle, on perçoit des Ă©chos de cette nostalgie, des programmes tĂ©lĂ© qui ont marquĂ© leur enfance. Et je crois qu'ils vont aller plus loin dans cette direction. C'est un processus naturel de crĂ©ation. On invente Ă  partir des traces de sa mĂ©moire autant qu'Ă  partir de ses dĂ©sirs et de ses humeurs du moment. On rĂ©interprĂšte sans cesse...
Vous utilisez des samples de programmes TV ?
On essaye de l'Ă©viter. On le fait Ă  l'occasion. Mais, de façon gĂ©nĂ©rale, nous crĂ©ons nos propres mĂ©lodies et nos propres vocaux avec les gens d'ici. MĂȘme les mĂ©lodies qui sonnent comme des samples sont faites par nous, puis dĂ©truites par le sampling.
Parfois, en Ă©coutant l'album, on a l'impression d'entendre des chants d'oiseaux, des bruits de la nature... Ce ne sont pas des samples ?
C'est une grande influence, c'est juste que la nature nous influence, tous comme les fenĂȘtres ouvertes du studio (rires). Il y a ce titre, "Rue the World", sur l'album, oĂč on entend des oiseaux chanter. En fait, j'Ă©coutais ce morceau, et, bizarrement, je percevais des bruits d'oiseaux. C'est lĂ  que je me suis rendu compte que la fenĂȘtre Ă©tait ouverte, et comme ces chants se mariaient Ă  merveille avec la musique, nous les avons enregistrĂ©s pour retrouver l'impression ressentie en Ă©coutant le titre avec la fenĂȘtre ouverte.
C'est peut-ĂȘtre aussi Ă  cause du nom du groupe, qui fait naĂźtre plein d'images...
Le nom du groupe vient du soundtrack de l'un de ces films animaliers qui ont bercĂ© notre enfance. On y retrouve ce cĂŽtĂ© nostalgique. Mais aussi un cĂŽtĂ© plus rauque, plus dur, plus sombre. Notre musique naĂźt d'un mariage bizarre entre ces airs de l'enfance et des humeurs plus difficiles, comme une vision d'une rĂ©alitĂ© plus terrible qui se mĂȘle paradoxalement Ă  nos amours enfantines.
Pourquoi ? A cause des fantĂŽmes ?
(rires)
Non... Cela reflÚte l'étendue des sujets qui nous passionnent, par exemple les expériences psychédéliques, dont on retrouve des échos dans l'album, bad trip et good trip. Ou encore la numérologie, avec tous ses aspects noirs... C'est la face adulte de notre travail, pessimiste... On joue en quelque sorte d'une double radicalité, l'ombre et la lumiÚre...
Vous vivez Ă  la campagne ?
Oui, depuis assez peu de temps. On a construit notre studio dans les Pentland Hills. Et maintenant, on commence Ă  vivre de la musique, sans faire autant de jobs qu'auparavant.
Quels types de jobs ?
Rien de honteux, des boulots universitaires par exemple, mais on préfÚre ne pas en parler...
Vous avez toujours eu ce nom de Boards of Canada ?
Non. Juste depuis quatre ans officiellement. Mais, de fait, ce nom existait depuis des années, comme le titre d'un morceau, avant de devenir le nom du groupe.
Au dĂ©but de l'interview, vous parliez de vos amis et de votre famille autour de vous, s'agit-il d'une communautĂ© d'artistes ? D'Ă©tudiants en histoire de l'art ?
Certains de nos amis sont des étudiants en histoire de l'art, ou des professeurs d'art moderne. certains sont des artistes, d'autres ne sont que des amis enthousiastes. On y trouve des photographes, des réalisateurs de films, artistes et musiciens... Et puis beaucoup d'amis que nous avons gardés depuis l'école. Lorsque nous étions à l'école, tous nos amis étaient dans des groupes de rock, nous étions les seuls à faire de l'électronique. A cette époque, nous avons commencé à faire des films, des vidéos en plus de la musique... On a produit des travaux de certains de nos amis, qu'il s'agisse d'expos ou de documentaires...
Vous rĂ©alisez des vidĂ©os dans le mĂȘme esprit que votre musique ? Ce n'est pas de la vidĂ©o high tech ?
Oui, tout-à-fait. C'est un peu de la Do It Yourself vidéo, sauf que nous utilisons pas mal d'équipements high tech. On aime bien dégrader les images photo ou vidéo comme on dégrade le son, rendre les images plus dures, primaires, sales... On essaye de corrompre la technologie.
Cela vous arrive-t-il de crĂ©er d'un mĂȘme Ă©lan musique et images ? De penser votre musique en images ?
Oui, bien sĂ»r, mais de façon naturelle et intuitive plus que calculĂ©e. Les musiciens les plus dĂ©calĂ©s de la musique Ă©lectronique comme Aphex Twin aiment que leur musique sonne cinĂ©matique, c'est-Ă -dire en images. C'est une dĂ©marche d'autant plus facile pour les musiciens que ne pensent pas systĂ©matiquement aux clubs lorsqu'ils crĂ©ent un titre... Si l'on peut danser sur l'un de nos titres, c'est parfait, mais nous ne le cherchons pas. Nous nous laissons toute libertĂ©, avec l'objectif de traduire des Ă©motions plutĂŽt que de faire danser. Il y a des tas de gens qui font ça tellement mieux que nous. Pourquoi nous y mettre nous aussi en le faisant moins bien ?
Il y a pourtant des morceaux qui iraient bien en club sur l'album...
C'est bien. Certes, nous travaillons les rythmes, mais pour nous il s'agit d'un véhicule pour de belles et étranges mélodies. Nous essayons de varier les effets, et c'est d'autant plus important pour la scÚne. D'autre part, nous aimons les rythmes appuyés, presque binaires, parce qu'ils collent bien à notre désir de créer des atmosphÚres sombres et obsessionnelles pour les marier à nos mélodies.
On retrouve cette dualité dans un titre comme "An Eagle In Your Mind"...
C'est exactement ça. D'un cĂŽtĂ© des mĂ©lodies et des voix presque naĂŻves, de l'autre, un processus de corruption de ces voix et mĂ©lodies, par une ambiance ou des transformations, comme dans le titre que tu cites ou "Sixtyten"... On ne souhaite pas aller vers des rythmes comme ceux de la jungle, qui, par leur ambition et leur complexitĂ©, peuvent foutre en l'air ce type d'effet et l'Ă©motion trouble et ambigĂŒe que nous souhaitons crĂ©er. Le rythme doit rester simple. C'est une question d'Ă©quilibre.
En concert, est-ce que vous essayez de mĂȘler son et image, comme s'ils se rĂ©pondaient l'un l'autre ?
Non, pas encore. Certes, nous essayons de marier image et son. Nous essayons de crĂ©er des visuels qui collent Ă  la musique, mais dans la limite des possibilitĂ©s techniques... Nous avons Ă©tĂ© trĂšs influencĂ©s par un groupe qui s'appelle Test Departement, qui jouait beaucoup avec les images et les sons, et qui n'avait rien Ă  faire de la dance ou de la pop comme beaucoup d'artistes de l'Ă©poque. Ils ont toujours suivi leur voie, sans se soucier de la mode. En 1998, le rythme de l'Ă©poque est la jungle, en 1988, c'Ă©tait l'acid. Un groupe comme Test Departement, mĂȘme s'il pouvait faire danser, se contrefoutait du rythme de l'Ă©poque. Ils Ă©taient trĂšs fort, en particulier sur scĂšne, parce qu'ils ne ressemblaient Ă  personne. Ils faisaient de la musique industrielle, mais Ă  l'occasion y mĂȘlaient des influences celtes ou des rythmes Ă  danser... Ils nous ont montrĂ© qu'on pouvait survivre et ĂȘtre respectĂ© en menant sa propre voie, sans essayer de copier le style des autres. Ce n'est pas parce qu'aujourd'hui la mode est Ă  la jungle qu'on ne peut pas survivre sur le territoire de la musique Ă©lectronique sans faire de la jungle.
Vos concerts sont trĂšs bien prĂ©parĂ©s, ou y a-t-il une place pour l'improvisation, notamment par l'image ?
On ne peut vraiment pas improviser avec l'image. C'est un objectif mais c'est trÚs dur. On va commencer à utiliser des ordinateurs pour avancer sur cette voie, utilisant des captures vidéo, afin de traiter les clips vidéo comme des sources de samples image. Aujourd'hui, sur scÚne, on ne peut jouer avec la vidéo comme on le fait avec les vinyls. Il y a un élément de hasard néanmoins. Nous ne voulons pas qu'un show soit parfait, car nous n'aimons pas la perfection. Nous souhaitons qu'il y ait du chaos dans un spectacle ou une musique, de la dureté, des surprises... Cela rend tout plus excitant...
Votre grand studio est dans une petite ville ?
Il est dans la campagne, avec quelques maisons, Ă  une dizaine de miles d'Edimbourgh. Ce n'est pas un studio trĂšs grand, mais il est plein de matos...
C'est une sorte de communautĂ© ?
Non, juste un groupe d'amis. Chacun avec sa famille...
Ce n'est pas un bunker comme on peut le lire dans la bio ?
C'est une exagération de la maison de disques.
Dans des villes comme Glasgow ou Edimbourg, il y a une scĂšne artistique trĂšs active, en art, en vidĂ©o et en musique Ă©lectronique bien sĂ»r, avec des artistes trĂšs jeunes, des festivals, etc, en ĂȘtes-vous proches ?
Il s'y passe des choses formidables, impossibles à suivre toutes. Jamais il n'y a eu autant de lieux et d'initiatives pour la musique expérimentale, et, plus largement, pour toutes les initiatives artistiques audacieuses. Il y a eu des shows de vidéo avec Internet par exemple, des vidéo mixes en live, des tas de trucs trÚs bizarres impliquant le public... Il y a aussi une scÚne techno trÚs riche, comme il n'en existait pas auparavant...
Vous connaissez Soma Records ?
Yeah... Pas personnellement, mais nous les connaissons...
Toutes les voix que vous utilisez sont celles d'amis ?
Oui, pour la plupart. Quelques-unes viennent d'enregistrements télé, mais c'est une minorité. C'est un mix. On utilise par exemple des cassettes vidéo que nous avions enregistrées il y a dix ans, qu'on écoute comme ça, et dont on utilise un mot. On se laisse aller aux redécouvertes du hasard.
Vous avez parlĂ© du chaos tout Ă  l'heure. Les thĂ©ories du Chaos vous intĂ©ressent ? Les sciences un peu barjes ?
Yeah... Les fractales. Je ne sais pas d'oĂč ça vient, mais les sciences Ă©tranges nous ont toujours passionnĂ©.
La vie artificielle, etc...
Et les nombres... Markus a étudié l'Intelligence Artificielle... Cela influence ce que nous faisons. Moi, ce sont plutÎt les nombres et leur forme. J'ai toujours été passionné des rapports de la musique et des nombres. L'expérience psychédélique va dans ce sens, elle peut nous aider à voir les choses en termes de nombres et de formes, de structures, comme si la musique était faite de cristaux.
Cela vous influence ? C'est un aspect de votre univers ?
MS: On ne se dit pas, tiens, lĂ  ce sont les robots qui vont nous influencer. Non, ces sciences Ă©tranges font partie de notre univers, et on le retrouve dans nos titres. Pas la science-fiction, mais ces sciences qui concrĂ©tisent aujourd'hui des visions de la SF du passĂ©. Nous avons grandi dans les seventies, Ă  une Ă©poque de grande paranoĂŻa par rapport aux sciences, paranoĂŻa que l'on retrouvait dans la science-fiction de l'Ă©poque, dans les bouquins comme dans les films. C'est cette paranoĂŻa, ce pessimisme, cette crainte de la science que l'on retrouve dans notre musique au mĂȘme titre que d'autres influences. A l'Ă©poque oĂč nous avons grandi dans les seventies, la vision du futur qui transparaissait Ă  la tĂ©lĂ© ou dans des films Ă©tait trĂšs noire, et trĂšs forte. Cela a changĂ©, notamment avec les jeux vidĂ©o.
Vous avez Ă©galement parlĂ© de psychĂ©dĂ©lisme ?
Oui, nous avons plongé dans l'art et la musique psychédélique à une époque. On réécoute souvent des groupes de la fin des sixties...
"Good Vibrations" ?
Oui, exactement ce genre de choses, les Beach Boys de l'époque "Good Vibrations", les Beatles de 1967. Pour nous, les Beatles sont vraiment devenus passionnants avec le psychédélisme. Ou encore des trucs inspirés de films ou sinon l'Incredible String Band...
Comment ĂȘtes-vous entrĂ©s en contact avec Skam Records ?
Nous avons fait un album, un EP. On l'a envoyĂ© Ă  quelques personnes, dont Sean Booth d'Autechre. Le lendemain du jour oĂč il l'a reçu, Sean nous appelĂ©, et nous a dit que nous devrions faire quelque chose avec Skam. On a parlĂ© avec eux pendant deux mois. On leur on a donnĂ© un titre pour une compilation, et l'annĂ©e derniĂšre on a commencĂ© Ă  travailler sur un album pour Skam. Vers septembre, nous avons Ă©galement sympathisĂ© avec les gens de Warp. Ils nous ont dit qu'ils voulaient cet album aussi, mais sans le piquer Ă  Skam, c'est pourquoi l'album sort avec le double label Skam et Warp.
Et Internet, vous utilisez Internet ?
Oui, trop. On y passe beaucoup de temps. On l'utilise depuis longtemps. Mais depuis quelques mois, on l'utilise Ă©galement en studio, pour chercher des sons, des images. Il y a un important site artistique, une plate-forme, qui a crĂ©Ă© une page sur nous, mais nous sommes en train de crĂ©er notre propre site, qui sera un acte en lui-mĂȘme, une petite oeuvre de sons et d'images, d'expĂ©riences.


Propos recueillis par Ariel Kyrou et Jean-Yves Leloup

Photo : DR



Two aesthetes of electronic music caught between nostalgia for childhood and paranoia of the future


At the heart of the Marais district of Paris, right next to the Picasso Museum, it would be easy to take Marcus Eoin and Michael Sandison for a couple of British Students on a culture spree. The two "Boards of Canada" look more like travelling hippies than techno freaks, with their backpacks, soppy grins, and woolly hats. It's hard to imagine that standing there are the creators of an electronic album of pure crystal, released jointly by two labels that could not be further apart: Skam and Warp; respectively, the cutting-edge Manchester label, and the legendary nerve-centre of "Made in Sheffield" electronica. This album, "Music has the right to children", is much as its cover suggests. The image of a family or a group of friends, standing on the stones of a ruined castle. A naĂŻve image like the world of "The Magic Roundabout" or "Animals of the World". Perfectly ordinary. Cheerful. Except that the image is flooded with a turquoise light, as though caught in the glare of a flying saucer that is coming in to land. And then there are those faces, smooth as pumice stone. Disturbing. The faces of zombified people. What are Michael Sandison and Marcus Eoin hiding in this picture of troubled innocence? The two Scots, whose replies we have merged in this interview, seem to act as one; the first a little more talkative than the other, who has a very striking accent.


Your biography is written in such a way that it's not easy to tell who you are or what you have done. You're Scottish, aren't you?
"That's right, we live in Scotland, out in the country, a few miles from Edinburgh."
It seems that you've never been tied to any particular scene, or style of music. Are you quite isolated?
"Yes, in fact, it's only in the last couple of years that we've started getting in touch with other musicians, in particular, those of Skam Records and Warp. In fact, the group has been going for a long time, among friends. It goes back to the early 80's, while we were still at school."
So you really started making music as teenagers?
"Yeah! We were both about 10, something like that. We had started playing instruments even younger, and very soon we were playing around with recordings on cassettes and magnetic tapes, making audio collages. We began writing and playing music in a more serious way at some point around 1987, for about the last decade now in our own style."
Just the two of you?
"No, with other musicians within the framework of a much larger collective. But, a few years ago, after having played with guitars and acoustic drum kits, we returned to a more starkly electronic form."
So, really, when you began to play, it was more like a teenage game, experimenting with recordings of films and instruments. You weren't looking to make a career out of it?
"We played about with sounds we liked, wherever they came from. Our career has been a little tortuous. At first, we experimented without setting ourselves any questions, with whatever means were available to us, then we worked a lot with other musicians and with real instruments, which brought more complexity into our music. Five years ago, we sounded a lot more Gothic, much closer to experimental rock, with the occasional vocal. Though it was heading for electronic music; already we were sampling our own instruments. Then we went back to something closer to our original spirit: simple and instinctive, the only difference being that from then on, we could use all the wonders of digital technology, and so it was a lot easier to experiment and to get what we wanted."
Do you feel close to the generation that worked with home studios?
"Perhaps, in a way. Our original approach to recording with our old equiment was an inferior version of what others did later on with their home studios. But if we were close to the spirit of that generation, it was by luck, and only at times, since we always pushed ahead a little isolated, off in a corner, drawing inspiration from rock music as well as electronic music."
You have no connection to the Acid House generation?
"No. Really, at that time - the start of the 90's - we were recording music with vocals and guitars, greatly influenced by experimental atmospheric rock groups like "My Bloody Valentine". It was only before and after the acid house explosion, totally out of step with them, that we were perhaps close to the movement."
What made you finally go back to electronic music?
"It was more natural for us. We always worked hard, polishing off our tracks all the time, even those that had more of a "rock" feel to them. For a month or two we would come back to the tracks, changing a sound here, adding one there. We sampled ourselves all the time, heading for a sound that was almost entirely electronic, and it was easy to take that to its logical conclusion."
Being able to use sampling, courtesy of the new technologies that weren't available when you started up; was that one of the reasons for your return to an electronic sound?
"Yeah! The technology allowed us to simpify our way of working. With the sampler, you have total control over your music. You can take the sound of an instrument, and make it sound however you like, with the ability to go back again. For example, on our last album, there are some tracks where we have used a piano. Through sampling, we've transformed the sound of the piano in lots of different ways, to the point where it sounds like a very very old piano, or even to the point where no one listening to the album would think that there was a piano there. It's the same story with guitars. We played electronic and acoustic instruments on "Music has the right to children", but we completely reworked their sound electronically."
Why the melodies evocative of childhood on your album? Where did that come from?
"We're recalling the echo of the melodies that marked our own childhood, and these melodies mostly come from TV, especially from films and programmes for children. It's the world that characterised our generation. We're the same ages. We grew up watching the same TV programs, and for us they're a stronger influence than modern music, or any other music that we listened to back then. Like it or not, they're the tunes that keep going around in our heads."
Are you very nostalgic about your own childhoods?"
"Yeah. It's the same with groups like Autechre, where, beneath a surface that's very experimental, very mininal and industrial, you can pick out echoes of that nostalgia. I think they'd like to take that further; it's a natural creative process. We create things starting from these memories every bit as much as we do from our current wishes and moods. We reinterpret them constantly."
Do you use samples from TV programmes?
"We try to avoid it. We do it sometimes. But, on the whole, we make our own melodies and vocal samples using the people here. Even tunes that sound like samples are really made by us, but destroyed by the sampling process."
Sometimes, when listening to the album, there's an impression of hearing birdsong and other sounds of nature. Aren't those samples?
"It's a big influence - it's certainly true that nature influences us, especially when the studio windows are open! (laughs). There's this track on the album called "Rue The Whirl", where you can hear birds singing. What happened was that I was listening to the track, and, oddly, I could hear birds singing. Then I realized that the window was open in the studio, and since the birdsong went so well with the music, we recorded it to capture the feel of what we experienced listening with the window open."
Is it also perhaps because of the name of the group, which evokes lots of images?
"The name of the group comes from the soundtrack of one of the nature films that had such a big influence on our childhood. That's our nostalgic side. But there's also a more raucous side, harder, and darker. Our music is born from a strange union of the air of childhood and more troubled feelings, representing a more terrible reality which blends paradoxically with our childhood dreams."
Why? Because of ghosts?
"(laughs) No. It reflects the range of subjects that we feel strongly about, for example, psychedelic experiences (there are echoes of those in the album), good trips and bad trips. And also numerology, with its darker connotations. It's the grown-up face of our work, the pessimistic side. We move around in the space between two extremes, light and shadow."
Do you live in the country?
"Yes, we've not been there long. We set up our studio in the Pentland Hills. Now we can start to live for our music, instead of being distracted by having to do other jobs, as before."
What sort of jobs?
" Nothing to be ashamed off. Working in universities, for example, but we prefer not to talk about it."
Have you always had the name "Boards of Canada"?
"No; officially, only for four years. But the name existed for years before that, as the title of one of our tracks, before it became the name of the group."
At the start of the interview, you spoke about your friends and family around you, is it like a community of artists - students of the history of art?
"Some of our friends are students of the history of art, or they teach modern art. Some are artists, others are just enthousiastic friends. There are photographers, film-makers, artists, and musicians. And lots of friends we've kept in touch with from school. When we were at school, all our friends were in rock bands. We were the only ones making electronic music. Back then, we started making videos, films to go with our music. We made some for our friends, about expos and documentaries."
Do you make videos in the same way you make music. Is it high-tech?
"Absolutely. It's sort of "Do It Yourself Video", except that we use reasonably high-tech gear. We like to degrade photo and video images in the same way that we degrade sound, making the images harder, more primal, dirtier. We try to subvert the technology."
Do you ever think of making the music and images all in the one go? Do you think of your music in terms of images?
" Of course, but more in a natural intuitive way, rather than being deliberate about it. The most outstanding electronic musicians, like Aphex Twin, like their music to sound "cinematique", in other words, in terms of images. It's a way of working that is all the easier for musicians who don't specifically have the dancefloor in mind when they're making a track. If you can dance to one of our tracks, well and good, but it's not what we're aiming at. We give ourselves the greatest possible freedom to work in, with the goal of translating emotions rather than trying to make people dance. There are plenty of people who can do that better than we can. So what would be the point of setting ourselves up to make a worse job of it?"
There are some tracks on the album which would be ideal for the dancefloor.
"That's true. Yes, we do work with rhythms, but for us it's just as a vehicle for carrying strange and beautiful melodies. We try to vary the effects; that's particularly important for live performance. Also, we like rhythms that are strong, almost binary, because that really goes with our aim of creating dark, obsessive backdrops to go with our melodies."
You can see that sort of duality in tracks like "an eagle in your mind".
"Quite so. On the one hand, we have melodies and almost naĂŻve vocals; on the other, a process of corruption of these melodies and vocals, by means of a certain ambience, or through transformations, as in the track you mentioned, or "sixtyten". We don't want to go in the direction of jungle beats, which, by their very ambitiousness and complexity, can really mess up the feel of the type of effect- the troubled emotions and ambiguity - that we are trying to achieve. The rhythm has to remain simple; it's a matter of balance."
In live performance, do you try to mix sound and images, as though they were responding to each other?
"No, not really. Certainly, we try to make the images fit the sounds. We try to make images that go with the sounds, within the bounds of what's technically possible. We've been very much influenced by a group called "Test Department", who played around a great deal with sound and images, and who had nothing to do with dance or pop music like most of the other artists of that period. They always followed their own path, without worrying about what was trendy. In 1998, the rhythm of the time was jungle. In 1988, it was acid. A group like Test Department, while they could make people dance, went against the rhythms of their day. They were really good, especially on stage, because there was no one else quite like them. They made industrial music, but they sometimes threw in some Celtic influences, or dance beats. They showed us that it was possible to survive, and to gain respect, while following your own path, without trying to imitate the style of others. It isn't so nowadays when the fashion is jungle, and you can't get by in the world of electronic music without making jungle music."
Are your concerts very well rehearsed, or is there still a place for improvisation, particularly, with images?
"It isn't really possible to improvise with images. It's something to strive for, but it would be really difficult. We'll start along this route with the help of computers, using captured video, in order to treat video clips as sources for sampled images. Today, on stage, you can't play around with video in the same way you would with vinyl records. All the same, there's still an element of chance involved. We wouldn't want a show to be perfect, because we don't like perfection. We want there to be an element of chaos in a show, or in our music; a raw edge; surprises. That makes it all more exciting."
Is your big studio in a small town?
"It's in the country, with other houses, several miles from Edinburgh. It's not really a big studio, but it is full of gear."
A sort of commune?
"No, just a bunch of pals, each with their family."
So it isn't a bunker as the biography claimed?
"That's just an exaggeration on the part of the record label."
In places like Glasgow or Edinburgh, is there an active artistic scene, in the arts, video, electronic music, of course, with young artists; festivals, etc. Are you involved in this?
"There are lots of great things going on, it's impossible to keep up with it all. There have never been so many places and initiatives for electronic music, and, on the larger scale, for all sorts of bold artistic enterprises. There have been video shows using the Internet, for example; live mixing of videos; and all sorts of bizarre goings-on that the general public can get involved in. There's also a very rich techno scene, which there wasn't before.
Do you know Soma Records?
"Yeah. Not personally, but we know of them."
So, all the voices you use are those of friends?
"Yes, mostly. Sometimes they come from old video tapes, but that's the exception. It's a bit of a mix: for example, we might use a video we taped ten years ago, that we listen to like that, and we take one word from it. We let ourselves rediscover things by chance."
You mentioned Chaos a moment ago. Are you interested in Chaos Theory - sciences that are a little offbeat?
"Yeah. Fractals. I don't know why, but strange sciences have always fascinated us."
Artificial life, etc.
"And numbers. Marcus studied Artificial Intelligence. That has influenced what we've done. With me, it's more numbers and their form. I've always been fascinated by the connection between music and numbers. Psychedelic experiences lead in this direction; they help us to see things in terms of numbers and their forms, of structures, as if the music was made out of crystals.
Does that influence you? Is it a part of your world?
"I can't really say that, hey, there it's robots who will influence us. No, strange sciences are part of our world, and you can find that in our works. Not science-fiction, but the sciences which have made the sci-fi visions of the past into a reality today. We grew up in the 70's, a time of great paranoia about science, a paranoia which comes across in the science fiction of that era, in books as well as in films. It's this paranoia, this pessimism, this fear of science, which can be found in our music along with other influences. When we were growing up in the 70's, the view of the future shown in TV and films was very dark, very powerful. That has changed, especially now with video games."
You also mentioned psychedelism.
"Yes, we immersed ourselves in the art and psychedelic music of the time. We often listen again to groups from the late 60's."
"Good Vibrations"?
"Yes, that's exactly the sort of thing we mean: the Beach Boys of the "Good Vibrations" era, the Beatles of 1967. The Beatles really became enthralling to us through their psychedelism. Also, some inspired moments in films, not to mention the Incredible String Band."
How do you get in touch with Skam Records?
"We had made an album, an EP. We sent it around various people, one of whom was Sean Booth of Autechre. The very next day after he got it, Sean gave us a call, and said that we ought to do something with Skam. We had dealings with them for a couple of months. We gave them a track for a compilation album, and last year we started work on an album for Skam. Around September, we were also having friendly dealings with some folk at Warp. They told us that they would also like this album, but they didn't want to tread on Skam's toes, so that's why the album came out under two labels, Skam and Warp."
What about the Internet, do you use that?
"Yes, a lot; we spend quite some time on it. We've been using it for a while now. For the last few months, we've also been making use of it in the studio, to look for sounds and images. There's an important artistic site, a platform, which has got a page on us, but at the moment we're working on making our own site, which will be a little work in itself, a mini-opus of sounds, pictures, and experiences."

interview by Ariel Kyrou & Jean-Yves Leloup, June 1998.


Entre Nostalgie de L'enfance et Paranoia du Futur

title Entre Nostalgie de L'enfance et Paranoia du Futur
author Ariel Kyrou
publication Coda
date 1998/06
issue 45
pages 40-41



"Entre Nostalgie de L'enfance et Paranoia du Futur" is an interview (in French) by Ariel Kyrou originally published June 1998 in Coda magazine Number 45, pp.40-41.


This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.

Text: Ariel Kyrou

Photo: Pierre Emmanuel Rastoin


Nouvelle découverte du genre electronica, Boards of Canada crée une musique paradoxale, à la fois belle et troublante, sombre et enfantine, sous le parrainage de Sean Booth d'Autechre... Rencontre avec deux musiciens écossais. Loin du tumulte londonien.


Au cƓur du Marais parisien, Ă  deux pas du MusĂ©e Picasso, on verrait bien Markus Eion et Michael Sandison comme des Ă©tudiants british en goguette culturelle. Ils ont l'air de hippies voyageurs et non de techno freaks, les deux Boards of Canada, avec leur sac Ă  dos, leur aimable barbichette, leur sourire mouillĂ© et leur bonnet de laine... On n'imagine pas tenir lĂ  les auteurs d'un album Ă©lectronique de pur cristal qui songe, paru sous une double signature on ne peut plus branchĂ©e : Skam et Warp, respectivement label pointu de Manchester et mythique maison mĂšre de l'electronica made in Sheffield.


Cet album, Music has the Right to Children, ressemble à sa pochette. L'image d'une famille ou d'un groupe d'amis, visiblement sur les pierres d'un chùteau en ruine. Image naïve comme les univers du ManÚge enchanté et des Animaux du Monde. Banale. Heureuse. Mais cette image est noyée de lumiÚre bleue verte, comme sous l'effet d'une soucoupe volante en phase d'atterrissage. Et puis il y a ces visages lisses comme une pierre ponce. Inquiétants. Des faces d'humains zombifiés.


Que cachent Michael Sandison et Markus Eion par cette image d'innocence troublĂ©e ? Les deux Ecossais semblent parler d'une mĂȘme voix, le premier un peu plus bavard que le second avec son accent Ă  se frapper le lobe de l'oreille. Ils n'ont pas l'air vieux, et pourtant, lorsqu'ils parlent de leurs premiĂšres armes musicales, c'est au dĂ©but des annĂ©es 80 qu'ils remontent...

Michael Sandison : "Je devais avoir environs 12 ans, et Markus Ă  peu prĂšs 10 ans. Nous avions appris Ă  jouer de quelques instruments classiques, mais ce qui nous amusait, tous les deux, c'Ă©tait de manipuler des enregistrements volĂ©s Ă  la tĂ©lĂ©, sur cassettes ou bandes magnĂ©tiques, de rĂ©aliser des collages musicaux..."
Markus Eion : "On s'amusait avec des sons qui nous plaisaient, d'oĂč qu'ils viennent, sans se poser de questions, avec les moyens du bord. Autour de 1987, c'est devenu plus sĂ©rieux. On s'est mis Ă  travailler avec des musiciens et de vrais instruments. On a complexifiĂ© notre musique...
Vous vous sentez proches de la génération du home studio?
Michael : Oui et non. Ou alors totalement par hasard. Nous avons bĂąti notre home studio du pauvre avant l'explosion house. Alors que l'acid house dĂ©ferlait en Angleterre, nous Ă©tions dans un autre trip, plus proches d'un groupe comme My Bloody Valentine. Nous explorions une veine de rock atmosphĂ©rique et expĂ©rimental, avec des vocaux et beaucoup de guitares. Ce n'est qu'aprĂšs cette explosion, en dĂ©calage complet, que nous sommes revenus Ă  notre esprit des origines en privilĂ©giant l'Ă©lectronique...
Est-ce Ă  cause des nouveaux moyens de l'Ă©lectronique, et notamment du sampling, que vous ĂȘtes revenus Ă  une for -nulle synthĂ©tique ?
Markus : la technologie nous a permis de simplifier notre approche, de la rendre plus instinctive, comme Ă  nos dĂ©buts...
Michael : le mode Ă©lectronique est pour nous naturel. DĂ©jĂ , lorsque nous sonnions plus rock, nous passions des mois au mixage, Ă  peaufiner et retravailler sans cesse nos morceaux.On se samplait nous-mĂȘmes. Avec le sampler, vous avez le contrĂŽle absolu de votre musique. Sur Music has the Right to Children on ne reconnaĂźt pas les titres sur lesquels on utilise du piano ou de la guitare, parce que nous samplons ces instruments pour les rendre plus sales, plus bizarres et les mĂȘler Ă  nos ambiances.

La musique de Boards of Canada marie deux mondes : la nostalgie de l'enfance et l'angoisse du prĂ©sent, voire la paranoĂŻa du futur. Au fur et Ă  mesure de l'entretien, on dĂ©couvre le mix de ces deux univers. D'un cĂŽtĂ© les Ă©missions enfantines et les mĂ©lodies naĂŻves, de l'autre la vision pessimiste de la science-fiction des annĂ©es 70, la numĂ©rologie, les sciences du Chaos, les bad trips psychĂ©dĂ©liques, les dĂ©lires de l'intelligence artificielle... On comprend aisĂ©ment la passion de Richard D. James ou de Sean Booth d'Autechre pour ce duo qui cultive son isolement, dans les Pentland Hills, oĂč ils ont bĂąti leur studio Ă  une quinzaine de kilomĂštres d'Edinbourgh.

"Chez Autechre, sous une surface minimale et industrielle, on perçoit des échos de nostalgie enfantine... Nous nous sentons trÚs proches d'Autechre ou de groupes issus de la musique industrielle comme Test Department, qui faisait tout sauf de l'acid house en 1988 alors que c'était le rythme à la mode, comme nous faisons tout sauf de la jungle aujourd'hui en 1998... Nos atmosphÚres se marient mieux aux beats simples et obsessionnels de la techno."

Ariel Kyrou

interview complĂšte au

http://www.virgin.fr

Note: Translation by ChatGPT-4o


Text: Ariel Kyrou

Photo: Pierre Emmanuel Rastoin


A new discovery in the electronica genre, Boards of Canada creates paradoxical music that is both beautiful and disturbing, dark and childlike, under the sponsorship of Sean Booth from Autechre... Meeting with two Scottish musicians. Far from the tumult of London.


In the heart of the Marais in Paris, a stone's throw from the Picasso Museum, Markus Eion and Michael Sandison could be mistaken for British students on a cultural spree. They look like traveling hippies rather than techno freaks, the two members of Boards of Canada, with their backpacks, friendly little beards, wet smiles, and woolen hats... It's hard to imagine that these are the creators of a purely crystalline electronic album, released under two of the trendiest labels: Skam, a niche label from Manchester, and Warp, the mythical electronica label from Sheffield.


This album, Music has the Right to Children, resembles its cover. The image of a family or a group of friends, seemingly on the stones of a ruined castle. An innocent image like the worlds of The Magic Roundabout and Animals of the World. Ordinary. Happy. But this image is drenched in blue-green light, as if under the effect of a landing flying saucer. And then there are these smooth faces like pumice stones. Unsettling. The faces of zombified humans.


What do Michael Sandison and Markus Eion hide behind this image of troubled innocence? The two Scots seem to speak with one voice, the first a bit more talkative than the second with his heavily accented speech. They don't look old, and yet, when they talk about their early musical endeavors, they go back to the early 80s...

Michael Sandison: "I must have been about 12, and Markus around 10. We had learned to play a few classical instruments, but what amused us both was manipulating recordings stolen from TV, on cassettes or magnetic tapes, creating musical collages..."
Markus Eion: "We played with sounds we liked, wherever they came from, without asking questions, using whatever was available. Around 1987, it became more serious. We started working with musicians and real instruments. We made our music more complex...
Do you feel close to the home studio generation?
Michael: Yes and no. Or then totally by accident. We built our poor man's home studio before the house explosion. While acid house was sweeping across England, we were on another trip, closer to a band like My Bloody Valentine. We were exploring a vein of atmospheric and experimental rock, with vocals and lots of guitars. It was only after this explosion, completely out of sync, that we returned to our original spirit by favoring electronics...
Is it because of the new electronic means, especially sampling, that you returned to a synthetic form?
Markus: Technology allowed us to simplify our approach, to make it more instinctive, like in the beginning...
Michael: The electronic mode is natural for us. Even when we sounded more rock, we spent months mixing, constantly refining and reworking our tracks. We sampled ourselves. With the sampler, you have absolute control over your music. On Music has the Right to Children you can't recognize the tracks where we use piano or guitar, because we sample these instruments to make them dirtier, weirder, and blend them into our atmospheres.


Boards of Canada's music marries two worlds: the nostalgia of childhood and the anxiety of the present, even the paranoia of the future. As the interview progresses, one discovers the mix of these two universes. On one side, children's programs and naĂŻve melodies, on the other, the pessimistic vision of 70s science fiction, numerology, chaos theory, bad psychedelic trips, the delirium of artificial intelligence... It's easy to understand the passion of Richard D. James or Sean Booth from Autechre for this duo that cultivates their isolation, in the Pentland Hills, where they built their studio about fifteen kilometers from Edinburgh.

"With Autechre, under a minimal and industrial surface, one perceives echoes of childlike nostalgia... We feel very close to Autechre or groups from industrial music like Test Department, which did anything but acid house in 1988 when it was the trend, just as we do anything but jungle today in 1998... Our atmospheres marry better with the simple and obsessive beats of techno."

Ariel Kyrou

Complete interview at

http://www.virgin.fr


Moins industriel et plus champĂȘtre

title Moins industriel et plus champĂȘtre
author Quentin Groslier
publication Prémonition
date 1998/06
issue 29
pages p.35



"Moins industriel et plus champĂȘtre"' is an interview (in French) by Quentin Groslier originally published June 1998 in PrĂ©monition magazine Number 29 p.35

This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.

Entretien: Quentin Groslier

Photos: Stéphane Burlot

Moins industriel et plus champĂȘtre que le gros des productions Warp, Boards of Canada perfectionne depuis dĂ©jĂ  longtemps des musiques aux contours flous, jouant sur le temps, la rĂ©pĂ©tition et d'Ă©tranges vocaux. Si Ă  premiĂšre vue, Michael Sanderson et Marcus Eoin ressemblent Ă  des hippies, leur premier album, sous forme de compilation introductive, ne laisse pas pour autant beaucoup de place aux fleurs.

Michael Sanderson : Nous faisons de la musique depuis notre jeunesse. Nous avons dĂ©butĂ© alors que nous Ă©tions enfants, en apprenant le piano et la guitare. Nous nous connaissons depuis fort longtemps, mais nous jouions dans des groupes diffĂ©rents depuis environ 1983. Nous nous sommes dĂ©cidĂ©s Ă  former un groupe ensemble en 1987, car nous travaillons mieux ainsi. Boards of Canada existe en rĂ©alitĂ© sĂ©rieusement depuis quatre ans.
Votre musique possĂšde des accents trĂšs nostalgiques.
Michael : Oui, beaucoup de gens nous l'ont dĂ©jĂ  fait remarquer. Cela vient du fait que nous avons Ă©tĂ© trĂšs influencĂ©s par ce que nous Ă©coutions Ă©tant jeunes, les programmes de tĂ©lĂ©vision pour enfants, les films ou ces musiques qui accompagnent les documentaires tĂ©lĂ©visĂ©s. Nous avons grandi avec et cela nous touche beaucoup plus que les musiques contemporaines, comme la "dance".
D'oĂč vient le titre de votre album, "Music has the right to children" ?
Michael : D'un livre pour enfants paru dans les annĂ©es 70 dont je ne me sĂ©parais jamais, qui Ă©tait intitulĂ© "Children have right to music". C'Ă©tait un livre d'initiation trĂšs rigolo. Nous avons dĂ©cidĂ© de baptiser l'album ainsi, parce que nous considĂ©rons la musique comme une arme pour affecter les gens.
Marcus Eoin : Nous pensons notamment Ă  son cĂŽtĂ© subliminal.
Michael : La musique n'est pas seulement une question de mĂ©lodies Ă  Ă©couter dans le but de se relaxer, elle comprend aussi des Ă©chantillons, des voix que nous utilisons, des titres que nous choisissons. Par notre travail, nous voulons contaminer les gens. Pour le titre de l'album, nous avons essayĂ© de nous imaginer comment un enfant pourrait ĂȘtre touchĂ© par de telles atmosphĂšres sombres qui entourent notre musique. Lorsque l'on se repasse en boucle une mĂ©lodie innocente Ă  l'apparence trĂšs naĂŻve, on commence au bout d'un certain moment Ă  ressentir son cĂŽtĂ© sombre, inquiĂ©tant. Imagine comment un enfant pourrait ĂȘtre affectĂ© par une telle ambiance. Il y a quelque chose de fascinant dans ce genre de confrontations.
Marcus : Nous aimons ce son. C'est comme Ă©couter un disque qui serait Ă  moitiĂ© fondu par la chaleur.
Vos musiques comprennent beaucoup d'Ă©lĂ©ments vocaux. N'avez-vous jamais travaillĂ© avec un chanteur ou une chanteuse ?
Marcus : Nous l'avons fait, il y a longtemps, bien avant de former Boards of Canada mais nous ne voulons pas centrer notre musique autour du chant. Nous prĂ©fĂ©rons transformer les voix, les dĂ©couper, les rendre non identifiables. Il ne doit plus rester qu'un son organique.
Michael : Les voix traitĂ©es au synthĂ©tiseur apportent quelque chose d'effrayant. Nous Ă©coutons par exemple souvent les disques de Walter Carlos (compositeur aujourd'hui transsexuel, qui s'illustra sur la bande-son d' Orange mĂ©canique" et sur un album de reprises de Jean-SĂ©bastien Bach au Moog -ndlr), qui a beaucoup travaillĂ© dans ce sens. Sur le prochain album, il sera possible d'en entendre plus.
Quels rapports entretenez-vous avec les machines?
Marcus : Nous ne voulons pas ĂȘtre dĂ©pendants de la technologie. Il est tellement aisĂ© aujourd'hui de composer de la musique techno, que bon nombre d'artistes se ressemblent. Alors que n'importe qui peut facilement identifier un morceau d'Aphex Twin, mĂȘme s'il ne l'a jamais entendu.
Michael : Nous pouvons utiliser n'importe quel type d'instruments. Si nous utilisons en ce moment des synthĂ©tiseurs, c'est parce que nous les aimons beaucoup, ils nous rappellent de vieux souvenirs. La seule chose que nous ne voulons pas utiliser est la musique des autres, car nous considĂ©rons cela trop facile.
Marcus : Nous sommes de mauvais perfectionnistes, nous mettons toujours beaucoup trop de temps Ă  aboutir Ă  quelque chose. Nous passons notre temps Ă  revenir en arriĂšre sur notre travail, nous n'arrĂȘtons pas de modifier les paramĂ©trages des sons. Mais au final, nous sommes toujours satisfaits du rĂ©sultat.
À quel moment dĂ©cidez-vous qu'un morceau est terminĂ©?
Marcus : Lorsque l'on vient nous voir pour nous presser de finir notre disque!
Michael : En rĂ©alitĂ©, nous ne considĂ©rons jamais qu'un morceau est fini. Il y a deux semaines, nous nous sommes remis Ă  travailler sur un morceau auquel nous n'avions pas touchĂ© depuis deux ans. Pour nous, une musique n'est jamais achevĂ©e.
Marcus : Il nous arrive mĂȘme parfois de rĂ©cupĂ©rer la mĂ©lodie d'une de nos vieilles musiques et d'aller en chercher le rythme sur une autre.


Interview: Quentin Groslier

Photos: Stéphane Burlot

Less industrial and more rural than the big productions of Warp, Boards of Canada have long been perfected with blurred music, playing with time, repetition and strange voices. If at first, Michael Sanderson[sic] and Marcus Eoin may look like hippies, their first album, in the form of an introductory compilation, won't leave much room for flowers.

Michael Sanderson[sic]: We've been making music since we were young. We started when we were kids, learning piano and guitar. We've known each other for a long time, but we were playing in different groups since about 1983. We decided to form a band together in 1987, because we work best this way. In actuality Boards of Canada has existed seriously for four years.
Your music has many nostalgic accents.
Michael: Yes, many people have already pointed that out to us. This is because we have been greatly influenced by what we listened to when young, children's TV programs, movies or music that accompany television documentaries. We grew up with this and it affects us far more than contemporary music, such as "dance".
From where does the title of your album, "Music Has The Right To Children", come?
Michael: From a children's book published in the 70's that has never left my mind, which was entitled "Children Have Right To Music." It was a very funny introductory book. We also decided to baptize the album with this title because we see music as a weapon to affect people.
Marcus Eoin: We especially like to think of its subliminal side.
Michael: The music is not just a matter of listening to melodies in order to relax, it also includes samples, the voices we use, the titles we choose. Through our work, we want to infect people. For the title of the album, we tried to imagine how a child could be affected by such dark atmospheres that surround our music. When you loop over and over an innocent melody with a very naive appearance, after a while you will start to feel its dark and disturbing side. Imagine how a child could be affected by such an atmosphere. There is something fascinating about this kind of confrontation.
Marcus: We love that sound. It's like listening to a record that is half melted by the heat.
Your music includes many vocal elements. Have you ever worked with a singer?
Marcus: We did a long time ago, well before forming Boards of Canada, but we don't want to focus our music around vocals. We prefer to convert voices, cut them, make them unidentifiable. It should no longer remain an organic sound.
Michael: Vocals processed through a synthesizer bring something frightening. We often listen to records of artists such as Walter Carlos (the now transsexual composer, who became famous on the soundtrack of A Clockwork Orange "and a cover album of Bach at Moog, Ed.) who has worked in this direction. On the next album, it will be possible to hear more.
What relationship do you have with machines?
Marcus: We do not want to be dependent on technology. It is so easy today to compose techno music, that many artists are alike. While anyone can easily identify a piece of Aphex Twin, even if they've never heard it.
Michael: We can use any type of instrument. If we are currently using synthesizers, it is because we like them a lot, they remind us of old memories. The only thing we do not want to use is the music of others, because we consider it too easy.
Marcus: We are awfully perfectionistic, we always put too much time to come up with something. We spend our time going back on our work, we do not stop changing the settings of sound. But in the end, we are always happy with the result.
At what point do you decide that a piece is finished?
Marcus: When one comes to us and urges us to finish our record!
Michael: In reality, we never consider a song as finished. Two weeks ago we got back to work on a song that we had not touched for two years. For us, music is never finished.
Marcus: We even sometimes recover a melody from some of our older music and go look for the rhythm on another.



Les Alchimistes

title Les Alchimistes
author Sylvain Collin
publication Magic
date 1998/07
issue 21 (Jul/Aug 1998)
pages p.60
Les Alchimistes is an interview (in French) by Sylvain Collin originally published July 1998 in Magic magazine Number 21, p.60.

This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.

Les Alchimistes


Article: Sylvian Collin

Photo: MĂ©lanie Elbaz


Music Has The Right To Children est sans doute la curiosité du moment. Boards Of Canada - duo énigmatique et aguerri - parvient à merveille, par des structures complexes, à engendrer des émotions douces et à poser les jalons d'une forme d'expérimentation musicale tenue jusqu'alors à l'écart de la pop électronique. Renversant.


Le disque qui sort chez Warp n'est pas rĂ©ellement un album, c'est plus une compilation de travaux rĂ©alisĂ©s au court de ces trois derniĂšres annĂ©es sur le label Skam, auxquels viennent s'ajouter des titres plus rĂ©cents. Mais on peut considĂ©rer ce disque comme une entitĂ©, car le fait qu'il ait Ă©tĂ© si long Ă  produire s'explique surtout par manque de temps. Aujourd'hui, nous sommes musiciens Ă  temps complet, le prochain album devrait ĂȘtre prĂȘt plus rapidement, d'ici un an.
La rencontre entre ces deux Ecossais, Marcus Eoin, 24 ans, et Michael Sandison, de deux ans son ainé, est encore plus ancienne puisqu'elle date de l'école.
On a commencé vers la fin des années 80 à jouer ensemble dans un groupe à guitares mais en utilisant un environnement technologique comme des samplers ou des synthés, à l'instar de Killing Joke, Nitzer Ebb ou My Bloody Valentine.
explique Michael, plus loquace que son ami. La musique de Boards Of Canada a ainsi pris le temps de se forger, de trouver sa propre forme mĂȘme s'il semble difficile de la dĂ©crire prĂ©cisĂ©ment. Pourtant, on serait tentĂ© de la rapprocher de celle de Black Dog, Autechre ou mĂȘme dj Shadow ...
Ce sont des artistes que nous Ă©coutons et apprĂ©cions, mais c'est surtout ce que nous avons fait ces dix derniĂšres annĂ©es qui a une influence sur notre son actuel : la mĂ©lodie de Turquoise Hexagon Sun, par exemple, provient d'une vieille bande enregistrĂ©e il y a plusieurs annĂ©es.


Palindromes

Que ce soit les influences ou les sonorités, ces deux garçons tiennent à leur identité.
Nous ne voulons pas retrouver dans nos disques les mĂȘmes sons que dans ceux des autres, nous ti 'utilisons pas de boite Ă  rythmes par exemple.
explique Marcus. De plus, leur univers est contrÎlé de bout en bout el isolé du reste du troupeau. Les deux hommes ont d'ailleurs installé leur studio dans un bunker prÚs d'Edimbourg, qui est devenu le QG de Music 70, un collectif qui regroupe des amis musiciens, d'autres qui font des films ou encore un projet parallÚle au groupe, d'une dimension moins sérieuse et mélodiquement différent. Cependant, pour Michael, ce n'est pas tant cet isolement que la maniÚre particuliÚre de composer qui les singularise.
Il n'y a peut-ĂȘtre que la moitiĂ© de notre travail, les parties mĂ©lodiques sans aucun doute, qui puisse ĂȘtre considĂ©rĂ©e comme expĂ©rimentale. On ne peut plus rĂ©inventer ou rĂ©volutionner la musique sur chaque morceau. Nous composons de maniĂšre trĂšs mathĂ©matique, rien n'est laissĂ© au hasard; tout d'abord parce que les ordinateurs ne connaissent pas le hasard, ensuite parce qu'une composition musicale peut toujours ĂȘtre traduite de maniĂšre mathĂ©matique plus ou moins simplement. Alors, en travaillant directement la structure d'un morceau, sur des modĂšles de palindromes ou de fractales, nous essayons de maniĂšre hypnotique de synthĂ©tiser des Ă©motions Ă  l'aide de motifs musicaux et d'agir sur l'aspect obsessionnel qui peut en Ă©maner. comme peut le faire une belle mĂ©lodie. Je crois qu'un thĂšme mathĂ©matique a un potentiel Ă©motif trĂšs important. .. C'est d'ailleurs le principe de la musique psychĂ©dĂ©lique. Il n'y a pas besoin non plus de faire dans le rĂ©pĂ©titif ou le long : certains titres de l'album sont trĂšs courts et simples, ce ne sont en quelques sortes que des suggestions.
La musique expĂ©rimentale n'est donc plus une recherche hasardeuse mais trouve ici un cĂŽtĂ© mĂ©thodique et rigoureux, quasi-scientifique, comme puissant vecteur Ă©motionnel. Si tout cela paraĂźt peut-ĂȘtre un peu complexe pour qui voudrait dĂ©cortiquer leurs morceaux, l'ensemble est Ă  la fois simple et lumineux, avec des touches de mĂ©lancolie.


Super 8

Inévitablement et parce que certains titres ont un cÎté narratif, on décrit Music Has The Right To Children comme la musique d'un film imaginaire.
C'est ce que l'on dit souvent quand on parle de disques instrumentaux, et mĂȘme ceux de chez Warp n'y Ă©chappent pas: il n'y a pas de voir et ce n'est pas non plus de la musique dance ... En fait, c'est juste de la musique Ă  Ă©couter.
déclare Marcus en s'amusant du paradoxe.
En revanche, les musiques de film nous intéressent beaucoup.
Michael sort alors de son sac quelques vinyles qu'il vient d'acheter à Paris, dont la BO de L'Apocalypse Des Animaux et un pressage français de Zabriskie Point.
Si, pour moi, John Williams est aujourd'hui le plus grand compositeur dans ce domaine, les BO orchestrales ne nous influencent pas directement. En revanche, la maniÚre de composer et d'arranger un thÚme chez Vangelis est remarquable: avec seulement quelques instruments, il arrive à un résultat trÚs épique. J'aime aussi beaucoup la façon dont Antonioni intÚgre la musique pop à ses films. De notre cÎté, nous aimerions bien travailler pour David Lynch ou composer la musique d'un documentaire animalier.
VoilĂ  une autre facette du travail de Boards Of Canada : c'est au collĂšge que Michael et quelques-uns de ses amis ont commencĂ© Ă  rĂ©aliser des petits films, expĂ©rimentaux eux aussi, et ils n'hĂ©sitent pas Ă  adapter leurs mĂ©thodes de composition Ă  l'Ă©cran.
MĂȘme si le support est diffĂ©rent, il y a entre notre musique et les travaux visuels que nous avons rĂ©alisĂ©s en super 8 ou en vidĂ©o, une dĂ©marche similaire. L'essentiel de nos films consiste en des collages de formes visuelles que l'on projette lors des concerts. Ça na pas grand chose Ă  voir avec le cinĂ©ma, nos connaissances en la matiĂšre sont donc plus cinĂ©philes que cinĂ©matographiques.
L'itinĂ©raire crĂ©atif du groupe est certes sinueux mais, au final, Music Has The Right To Children se rĂ©vĂšle d'un accĂšs particuliĂšrement Ă©vident. A la portĂ©e mĂȘme d'un enfant de quatre ans.


>Michelangelo Antonioni

Imagination

En marge du nĂ©orĂ©alisme italien, Antonioni est venu au cinĂ©ma par la critique. CinĂ©aste du rĂ©el, il invente le cinĂ©ma introspectif. Sa rĂ©flexion sur la perception de la rĂ©alitĂ© et de l'imaginaire trouve son paroxysme dans Blow Up(67) oĂč un photographe passe d'un imaginaire de la rĂ©alitĂ© vers une rĂ©alitĂ© imaginaire via son troisiĂšme Ɠil. Ainsi, Antonioni prend le contre-pied de la plupart de ses contemporains qui prĂ©fĂšrent utiliser l'introduction de l'imaginaire dans la rĂ©alitĂ©, par le biais d'images mentales ou d'hallucinations. Signalons La Natte et L'Eclipse(62) comme deux belles rĂ©ussites anti-dramatiques et le fantastique Zabriskie Point(70), dont la BO est signĂ©e entre autre par le Grateful Dead et Pink Floyd, oĂč, comme dans Profession Reporter(75), la critique lui reproche une prioritĂ© Ă  la recherche formelle. Aujourd'hui trĂšs malade, Par De LĂ  Les Nuages, son dernier film. a Ă©tĂ© achevĂ© par Wim Wenders. >


The Alchemists


Article: Sylvian Collin Photo: MĂ©lanie Elbaz

Music Has The Right To Children is undoubtedly the curiosity of the moment. Boards Of Canada - an enigmatic and seasoned duo - succeed wonderfully, through complex structures, in generating gentle emotions and laying the groundwork for a form of musical experimentation held until now remote from electronic pop. Stunning.

The record that comes out on Warp is not really an album, it's more a compilation of works done during the last three years on the Skam label, to which newer titles are added . But we can consider this record as its own entity, because it really took so long to produce mainly due to lack of time. Today we are musicians full-time, the next album should be ready more quickly, within a year.
The meeting between these two Scotsmen, Marcus Eoin, 24, and Michael Sandison, two years his elder, dates as far back as their school-years.
We started in the late 80s playing together in a guitar band but using a technological environment like samplers or synths, in the same way as Killing Joke, Nitzer Ebb or My Bloody Valentine.
says Michael, more loquacious than his friend. The music of Boards Of Canada has thus taken the time to forge, to find its own form even if it seems difficult to describe it precisely. Nevertheless, one would be tempted to bring it closer to that of Black Dog, Autechre or even DJ Shadow ...
They are artists that we listen and appreciate, but it is especially what we have done during the last ten years which has had an influence on our current sound: the melody of Turquoise Hexagon Sun, for example, comes from an old tape recording made several years ago.


Palindromes

Whether influences or sounds, these two boys depend on their identity.
We do not want to find in our records the same sounds as in those found in others, we do not use a drum machine for example.
explains Marcus. Moreover, their universe is controlled from beginning to end and isolated from the rest of the herd. The two men have also installed their studio in a bunker near Edinburgh, which has become the headquarters of Music70, a group of friends, musicians, and others who make films or a parallel project to the group, of a less serious and melodically different dimension. However, for Michael, it is not so much the isolation, than the particular way of composing that singles them out.
There is perhaps only half of our work, the melodic parts without doubt, which can be considered experimental. You can no longer reinvent or revolutionize the music on each track. We compose in a very mathematical way, Nothing is left to chance, firstly because computers do not know chance, and then because a musical composition can always be translated in a more or less simple mathematical way. Then, working directly with the structure of a track, on models of palindromes or fractals, we try to hypnotically synthesize emotions using musical patterns and to act on the obsessive aspect that can emanate from it. As a beautiful melody can do. I believe that a mathematical theme has a very important emotional potential ... It is, moreover, the principle of psychedelic music, and there is no need to make it repetitive or long: certain titles of the album are very short and simple, they are only suggestions so to speak.
Experimental music is thus no longer a hazardous search but here finds a methodical and rigorous, quasi-scientific side, as a powerful emotional vector. If all this seems a bit complex for those who would like to dissect their tracks, as a whole it is both simple and luminous, with touches of melancholy.


Super8

Inevitably and because some titles have a narrative side, Music Has The Right To Children is described as the music of an imaginary film.
This is what we often say when we talk about instrumental records, and even those of Warp cannot avoid it: There isn't anything to see and it is not dance music either. .. In fact, it's just music to listen to.
says Marcus, amusing himself with the paradox.
On the other hand, music soundtracks interest us very much.
Michael then pulls out of his bag some vinyl that he had just bought in Paris, including the soundtrack of L'Apocalypse des Animaux and a French pressing of Zabriskie Point.
As, for me, John Williams is now the greatest composer in this field, orchestral soundtracks do not directly influence us. On the other hand, the way to compose and arrange a theme as Vangelis does is remarkable: with only a few instruments the result is very epic. I also love the way Antonioni integrates pop music into his films. As for us we would love to work for David Lynch or compose the music of an animal documentary.
This is another facet of the work of Boards of Canada: it was at college that Michael and some of his friends had started making small, experimental films as well, and they do not hesitate to adapt their composition methods to the screen.
Even if the medium is different, there is a similar approach between our music and the visual work that we did in Super 8 or video. Most of our films consist of collages of visual forms that are projected during gigs. It does not have to do so much with cinema, our knowledge of the subject is therefore more film-lover than film-maker.
The creative itinerary of the band is certainly meandering, but in the end, Music Has The Right To Children reveals a particularly obvious approach. Within the reach of a four-year-old child.


> Michelangelo Antonioni

Imagination

On the sidelines of the Italian neorealism, Antonioni came to the cinema by criticism. A filmmaker of reality, he invented introspective cinema. His reflection on the perception of reality and imagination finds its paroxysm in Blow Up (67) where a photographer passes from an imaginary of reality to an imaginary reality via his third eye. Thus, Antonioni takes the opposite view of most of his contemporaries who prefer to use the introduction of the imaginary into reality, through mental images or hallucinations. La Natte and L'Eclipse (62) as two beautiful anti-dramatic successes and the fantastic Zabriskie Point (70), whose soundtrack is signed by the Grateful Dead and Pink Floyd, , Criticizes it as a priority for formal research. Today very ill, By De LĂ  Les Nuages, his last film. Was completed by Wim Wenders. >


Mysterious and Undefined

title Mysterious and Undefined
author Kelley Schwartz
publication Massive
date 1998/08
issue 20
pages p.80



Mysterious and Undefined is an interview by Kelley Schwartz originally published Aug 1998 in Massive magazine Number 20, page 80.

This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.

Interview by Kelley Schwartz

In the course of less than a year Scotland’s Boards of Canada has three remixes, a debut album, a track on Warp’s celebrated 100th release and a new album in the works. Mysterious and undefined- could BoC be the KLF of a new generation? Marcus Eoin and Michael Sandison set us straight and prove there’s more to Scotland than just Mogwai, Glasgow Underground and bagpipes.


First off, why the name Boards of Canada, why not Mysteries of Egypt, Beer Bottles of Milwaukee...?
Our name is derived from the National Film Board Of Canada.  We used to listen to those soundtracks as kids, and we made imaginary soundtracks for imaginary documentaries.  It was just one source of inspiration for us in the beginning.  Mysteries of Egypt?  A band with a name like that would upset me.
Previously, BoC went through numerous member changes before it was just the two of you- do you liken what you do now to what you did then (musically)?
I think there's always been a consistency to what we do.  I've recently been archiving some very old material, some from the early 80s, when we were about twelve years old or something.  A lot of it is like what we do now.  When we experimented with other live musicians over the years in between, our music went through some huge changes, then we came full-circle and started doing experimental electronic tunes again.  Now that it's just the two of us we can be ruthlessly single-minded about what we do.
In the U.S. you've kinda crawled out of nowhere now with the album and Mira Calix remix- any plans for world domination?
We might dominate the world, but not through selling records.
How did you hook up with Warp/Skam?
We did a self-financed EP in 1995 called "Twoism," just for friends, and it was sent as a gift to about a half-dozen of our favourite artists, and Sean Booth from Autechre, who is involved with Skam, called us the next day.  He asked us to release an EP on Skam (the "Hi Scores" EP in '96).  Then one thing led to another.
You seem to have a strong art connection (use of super 8, graphics, et al) any art background?
Neither of us studied art in further education, if that's what you mean.  It's just something we've done since we were kids.  We started making super-8 films when we were about twelve, mucking around with borrowed equipment, and our friends and families are all involved with art and music to some extent.  We've got strong opinions about other people's art, music, and filmmaking, so we're a bit megalomanical about our own work.
Be as secretive as you want but I'm curious - what gear do you use?
Heh, a real mixture.  This is a common question.  We have a mixture of old and new gear.  We record a lot of live sounds into samplers.  We like making things sound as though they've come from a film or an old record, but you'll be looking for a long time to find those sources, because they don't exist.  Almost all of our sounds are created on acoustic instruments such as guitars or drums or voices, then processed and fucked over in the samplers, and turned into something completely different.  For instance, all the percussion on "An Eagle In Your Mind" was made with the human voice.  Sometimes we create sounds on old synths.  A lot of kids who want to get into electronic music ask that question, and they're missing the point really. If you have a strong musical vision, you should be able to achieve it with whatever comes to hand.  If you gave us a bucket and two pieces of plywood we would try to make a good album with them.
Any plans to release the BBC session?
Probably not.  We're quite pleased with that session, especially the odd version of "Aquarius," but we're very particular about what goes out on our records, because you have to imagine them being picked up and played ten or twenty years from now.
The next album is slated for late this year...  I’m hearing that it's supposed to be "different" what can we not expect?
It's likely to be released in the early part of 1999.  The current album "Music Has The Right To Children" is kind of an introduction.  We just want to make a classic album that you can play a thousand times over.  You can not expect seagulls on it.
I’m in Milwaukee so I'm obligated to ask - what's your favorite beer?
I’m in Scotland.  Any beer.

A MĂșsica de Dança Ă© Preguiçosa

title A MĂșsica de Dança Ă© Preguiçosa
author Nuno Corvacho
publication PĂșblico Sons
date 1998/09
issue 64 (04 Sept.1998)
pages p.04



"A MĂșsica de Dança Ă© Preguiçosa" is an interview (in Portuguese) by Nuno Corvacho originally published Sept. 4th, 1998 in the PĂșblico Sons magazine, a supplement of the Portuguese daily national newspaper PĂșblico, Number 64, p.04.

This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.

Entrevista com os Boards of Canada


Nuno Corvacho


"Music Has the Right to Children", o ĂĄlbum de estreia do duo escocĂȘs Boards Of Canada, Ă© uma deliciosa fantasia electrĂłnica. Nesta entrevista, realizado por fax, dĂŁo conselhos Ă s crianças, discutem as virtudes da idade analĂłgica e desancam na cultura de dança.

Oriundos de Edimburgo, os Boards of Canada sĂŁo compostos pela dupla Mike Sandison e Marcus Eoin. Passaram a juventude Ă  volta de aparelhagens domĂ©sticas e discos de bandas convencionais. Mas desde muito cedo descobriram o potencial que a mĂșsica electrĂłnica proporciona, formaram algumas bandas, extinguiram outras tantas, numa sĂ©rie de projectos que se foram renovando como as marĂ©s. Acabam de lançar o seu primeiro longa-duração, "Music Has The Right To Children", um disco de ambientes sonoros ambĂ­guos e sensuais. Refugiados numa sensibilidade quase infantil, nĂŁo se aventuram demasiado na cultura nocturna e uma noite bem passada, para eles, Ă© longe das discotecas, algures no alto de uma colina Ă  luz de uma enorme fogueira.

PÚBLICO — Qual Ă© a razĂŁo de ser do estranho nome deste projecto?
BOC — Teve origem no National Filmboard of Canada. Quando Ă©ramos miĂșdos, costumĂĄvamos ver muitos filmes e documentĂĄrios experimentais por eles produzidos, por isso foram uma grande influĂȘncia para nĂłs. A mĂșsica nesses filmes era Ăłptima, por ser estranha mas audĂ­vel.
P. — Como Ă© que foi o vosso primeiro contacto com os instrumentos electrĂłnicos?
MICHAEL SANDISON — Por volta dos dez anos de idade, deramme um antigo gravador de cassetes mono e entĂŁo comecei a gravar peças de piano com ele. Depois pedi instrumentos emprestados aos amigos, coisas como ĂłrgĂŁos electrĂłnicos. A primeira vez que toquei num sintetizador foi por volta de 1983, quando o meu professor de mĂșsica comprou um Roland, Juno 60. Tornei-me viciado naquilo. Quando ele ouviu algumas das minhas gravaçÔes caseiras, arranjou maneira de eu ir gravar para um estĂșdio. Gravei alguns temas, isto em 1983, quando tinha 12 anos, e a partir daĂ­ formei inĂșmeras bandas, todas diferentes, mas nas quais usei sempre electrĂłnica.
P. — Que influĂȘncias reconhecem no vosso trabalho?
BOC — HĂĄ elementos muito diferentes no nosso trabalho. A maior influĂȘncia serĂĄ a televisĂŁo, a mĂșsica de filmes e a clĂĄssica, mais do que bandas rock. Contudo, certas bandas foram uma grande influĂȘncia ao longo dos anos, tal como Devo, The Incredible String Band, Julian Cope e My Bloody Valentine.
P. — A vossa abordagem da mĂșsica electrĂłnica dĂĄ mostras de uma sensibilidade infantil na forma como utiliza sonoridades suaves e melĂłdicas. Concordam?
BOC — Adoramos melodias, mas aborrecemo-nos com melodias previsĂ­veis. Por isso, o tipo de mĂșsica ruidosa que nĂłs fazemos parece infantil ou simplista. Fazemos a nossa mĂșsica parecer velha, gasta, em segunda mĂŁo. Parece mĂșsica de recordaçÔes pouco claras tanto mais que, normalmente, a maioria da mĂșsica moderna tem uma boa produção. Estamos a tentar transmitir aos outros os mesmos sentimentos que temos pelas melodias antigas, de que nos lembramos do passado.
P. — AtĂ© que ponto Ă© importante o universo da infĂąncia no vosso som? As vozes de crianças que se ouvem em muitos dos vossos temas sĂŁo uma expressĂŁo da vossa veia sonhadora ou apenas uma forma de suprir uma carĂȘncia vocal?
BOC — NĂŁo sĂŁo para compensar a falta de vozes, porque anteriormente tivemos vĂĄrios vocalistas na banda, mas decidimos ser sobretudo instrumentais, o que torna a nossa mĂșsica muito mais flexĂ­vel. As vozes das crianças estĂŁo lĂĄ para contrastar com as melodias mais sombrias e electrĂłnicas. É uma espĂ©cie de coisa amarga-doce.
P. — Que diferenças notam entre uma criança e um adulto na reacção que tĂȘm perante a mĂșsica?
BOC — As crianças mais jovens estĂŁo mais receptivas a melodias suaves, encantadoras e ritmos pesados. Mas hĂĄ uma fase nos adolescentes, que começam a diferenciar as suas preferĂȘncias musicais, e Ă© aĂ­ que muitos sons e mĂșsicas ficam retidas na memĂłria. Entre a adolescĂȘncia e a idade adulta, urna pessoa pode ouvir todo o tipo de coisas. Mas, tal como um adulto, o seu gosto pela mĂșsica Ă© governado pela sua experiĂȘncia em criança.
P. — Usam cantigas de embalar, truques lĂșdicos e coisas semelhantes?
BOC — Na nossa mĂșsica? Temos usado todo o tipo de coisas. As vozes das crianças sĂŁo normalmente gravaçÔes que fizemos de crianças a dizer coisas, que normalmente as crianças nĂŁo dizem. UsĂĄmolas tambĂ©m a cantar e gravaçÔes fonĂ©ticas simples. Se a pergunta se refere a brinquedos musicais, a resposta Ă© sim, tambĂ©m usĂĄmos muito isso, porque esses sons sĂŁo familiares a todos.
P. — De que modo aproveitam essa panóplia sonora nos vossos espectáculos?
BOC — UsĂĄmos filmes antigos de famĂ­lia com crianças a brincar, cortĂĄmo-los e passĂĄmo-los de trĂĄs para a frente e assim continuamente. É uma coisa simples, mas muito eficaz para algumas mĂșsicas que nĂłs tocamos. Nos espectĂĄculos ao vivo, costumamos intercalar as faixas com pequenas melodias hipnĂłticas, tal como caixas de mĂșsica ou "jingles" televisivos. Penso que isto preocupa alguma parte da audiĂȘncia.
P. — A electrĂłnica Ă© para vocĂȘs uma forma de escape, a maneira ideal de esculpir o som, ou uma simples fonte de prazer?
BOC — O que a mĂșsica electrĂłnica oferece Ă© uma maior flexibilidade aos compositores. A maior parte dos mĂșsicos electrĂłnicos estĂĄ a produzir mĂșsica de dança. Vemos isso como sendo preguiça, porque a mĂșsica de dança Ă© muito fĂĄcil de produzir. A mĂșsica electrĂłnica nĂŁo tem de ser limpa, penetrante e repetitiva, e podemos ter um infinito nĂșmero de sons instrumentais originais. Temos tendĂȘncia a usar sons orgĂąnicos, sons que nĂŁo parecem electrĂłnicos. Isto significa que se pode dar a impressĂŁo de uma banda completa a tocar instrumentos bizarros.
P. — O que pensam da recuperação da electrónica analógica?
BOC — Quer dizer o ressurgimento do uso dos sintetizadores analĂłgicos? TĂȘm sido sempre usados por mĂșsicos importantes, porque os sintetizadores digitais nunca foram a extremos como os analĂłgicos vĂŁo. Quero dizer, a tecnologia digital foi concebida para superar certos princĂ­pios, tais como potenciais danos de alcance de frequĂȘncia, etc. Mas os sintetizadores analĂłgicos podem ser forçados a fazer coisas que nĂŁo deviam fazer. A verdadeira criatividade existe quando se força uma peça de equipamento a fazer algo de antiortodoxo, e o material analĂłgico Ă© bom para quebrar as regras. Usamos sempre material analĂłgico e, ao combinĂĄ-lo com hardware digital, acabamos por ter um imenso potencial sonoro.
P. — Trabalham facilmente sob pressĂŁo, no ambiente da mĂșsica de dança, ou preferem atmosferas mais calmas?
BOC — NĂŁo estamos de todo dentro da cultura de discoteca. Por vezes, temos de lĂĄ estar para fazer um concerto, mas nĂŁo escolhemos gastar o nosso tempo livre aĂ­. Fomos criados na zona rural da EscĂłcia e o nosso estĂșdio Ă© acolhedor. Gostamos de estar no exterior com os nossos amigos e fazer as coisas calmamente, mas a mĂșsica electrĂłnica exige, por vezes, que se trabalhe com agressividade.
P. — Qual. Ă© a vossa estĂłria infantil preferida?
Michael Sandison — "O Rapaz Que Gritou 'Lobo'. É importante que todas as crianças a ouçam.
Marcus Eoin — "Hansel and Gretel". Lembrem-se, crianças, não vão com estranhos!


Note: Translation by twoism.org user "kakanara"[6]


Dance Music is Lazy


Interview with Boards of Canada


Nuno Corvacho


“Music Has The Right To Children”, the debut album of Scottish duo Boards of Canada, is a delicious mix of electronic fantasy. In this interview, done by fax, the duo give advice to children, discuss the virtues of the analogue age and take a jab on dance culture. Hailing from Edinburgh, Boards of Canada are composed by Mike Sandison and Marcus Eoin. They have spent their childhood surrounded by household appliances and records by conventional bands. But early on, they discovered the potential that electronic music provides, formed some bands, and broke up many others, in a series of projects that renewed themselves like seawaves. They have just released their first LP, “Music Has The Right To Children”, a record full of ambiguous, sensual ambient sounds. Sheltered in an almost childlike sensibility, the duo doesn’t take particular interest in the night culture. For them, a good night is spent far away from the nightclubs, somewhere along the peak of a hill around an enormous campfire.


PÚBLICO - What is the origin of the strange band name?
BOC - It has its origins from the National Film Board of Canada. When we were very little, we used to watch many films and experimental documentaries made by them, they were a big influence for us. The music in these films were great, for being strange but decent.


P. - What was your first contact with musical instruments?
MICHAEL SANDISON - When i was around ten years old, i got an old mono cassette recorder and started recording piano pieces with it. I started borrowing instruments from my friends afterwards, things like electric organs. The first time that I played a synthesizer was around 1983, when my music teacher bought a Juno 60. I got addicted to that thing. When he heard some of my home recordings he arranged a way for me to play for a studio. I created a few tracks, this is in 1983, when I was 12 years old, and from there I started forming many bands, all of them different from each other, but always with some electronic instruments.


P. - What influences do you recognize in your work?
BOC - There are very different influences in our work. The biggest influence has to be in television, the soundtrack from movies and classical music, more so than rock bands. Although some bands have been a big influence on us through the years, like Devo, The Incredible String Band, Julian Cope and My Bloody Valentine.


P. - Your approach to electronic music shows a childlike sensibility in the way you use smooth sounds and melodies. Do you agree?
BOC - We love melodies, but we have gotten tired of predictable ones. Because of that, the type of noisy music we make sounds childlike or simplistic. We make our music sound old, worn, second-hand. It sounds like the music from unclear memories in the past, all the more so considering that most modern music has good production. We are trying to transmit to others the same feelings that we have for old melodies, that we remember from our past.


P.- How much does the universe of childhood play in your sound? The voices of children heard in many of your tracks are a way of expressing nostalgia or just a way to amend a lack of vocals?
BOC - It’s not to compensate for a lack of vocals, since we already had many vocalists in the band, but decided to be above all instrumental, which leaves our music much more flexible. The voices of children are there to contrast with the more somber and electronic melodies. It’s sort of a bitter-sweet thing.


P. - What differences do you notice between a child and an adult, in the way they perceive music?
BOC - Young children are more receptive to smooth, enchanting melodies and heavy rhythms. But there is a phase in adolescents where they start differentiating their musical preferences, and that’s where many sounds and songs are retained in memory. Between adolescence and adulthood, one can listen to any type of music. But as an adult, your taste in music is governed by your childhood experience.


P. - Do you use lullabies, play things, and similar things?
BOC - In our music? We have used all sorts of things. The children’s voices are usually from recordings we made with kids saying things that kids usually don’t say. We also made them sing and make simple phonetic recordings. If the question refers to musical toys, the answer is yes, we have also used them a lot, since these sounds are familiar to everyone.


P. - In what way do you use this array of sounds in your shows?
BOC - We’d get old family films with children playing, cut them, play them backwards and so on. It’s a simple thing, but very effective for some tracks we play. In the live shows, we used to put small melodies, similar to music boxes or television jingles in between tracks. We think that keeps the audience preoccupied.


P. - Is electronic music a means of escape to you, the ideal way to sculpt sounds, or just a means of pleasure?
BOC - What electronic music provides is a greater flexibility to the composers. Most electronic musicians are producing dance music. We see that as laziness, because dance music is really easy to produce. Electronic music doesn’t have to be clean, penetrating and repetitive, it can have an infinite amount of original instruments. We tend to use organic sounds, sounds that don’t seem electronic. This gives the impression of a complete band playing bizarre instruments.


P. - What do you think about the resurgence of analogue in electronic music?
BOC - Do you mean the resurgence of analogue synthesizers? They have always been used by important musicians, since the digital synthesizers never reach the extremes that analogue synthesizes go to. I mean, digital technology was conceived to overcome certain principles, like potential damage in the frequency range, etc. But the analogue synthesizers can be forced to do things they were not meant to. True creativity exists when you make a piece of equipment do something unorthodox, and analogue equipment is great for breaking the rules. We always use analogue instruments, and by combining it with digital hardware, we ended up with an immense sonic potential.


P. - Do you work well under pressure, in the environment of dance music, or do you prefer calmer atmospheres?
BOC - We’re not very into the nightclub culture. Sometimes we’re there to do a show, but we don’t choose to spend our free time there. We were raised in rural Scotland and our studio is cozy. We like to be outdoors with friends and create things calmly. Although electronic music sometimes demands that you work aggressively.


P. - What is your favourite children’s story?
Michael Sandison - “The boy who cried wolf”. It’s important that kids listen to it.
Marcus Eoin - “Hansel and Gretel”. Remember kids, don’t walk with strangers!

Boards of Canada, eh?

title Boards of Canada, eh?
author Walt Miller
publication Faqt
date 1998
issue Vol.02 No.04
pages 32-33



"Boards of Canada, eh?" is an interview by Walt Miller originally published 1998 in Faqt magazine Vol. 02 No. 04, pp.32-33.

This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.

Marcus Eoin and Mike Sandison are a couple of Scottish lads who grew up in Canada, and were mesmerized as children by the documentary soundtracks produced by the Canadian Film Board, (hence the name). As youths. Marcus and Mike were prolific in their endeavors: early adventures included unusual, visionary film & sound experiments. As musicians, the two went virtually unnoticed until Sean Booth called the band up after receiving a demo tape, which led to the much-heralded release, Hi Scores, on Autechre's Skam label. As the hype slowly mounted on the strength of the record, BOC continued their steady work ethic, contributing tracks to various compilations, doing remixes and releasing two more records for Skam (a 7" and a 10"). In 1998, Music Has A Right To Children was put out by Warp, and subsequently licensed to Matador in America. As their first full length release, the album represents a a culmination in the duo's perfected sound: beautiful melancholic melodies over deliciously crunchy rhythms that give nods to Autechre. The duo plans to follow up Music Has A Right with another album for Warp next year. Meanwhile, their film production collective, Music70, continues to work on a large film project to be completed in 2-3 years time. The following is an email interview conducted with the band in late summer conducted by Walt Miller.

There's quite a lot of buzz about you right now. Describe how things have changed for you since you put out the Skam 12"?
The Skam 12" took a while to get a reaction, because the Skam releases are very limited and the label is really a streetlevel underground thing. Things haven't changed that much for us really because we've always been workaholics. We usually have about four or five projects on the go at any one time, so the workload for Warp is kind of what we used to inflict upon ourselves anyway.
Some people say that Boards Of Canada is the next in line to grab the "intelligent techno" baton... comments?
That's an oxymoron isn't it? I don't think people will describe the next one as 'techno'. We like some techno, but most of what we listen to isn't connected with that at all. People seem to like these phrases like 'IDM' or whatever, because they hear electronic sounds and automatically they feel the need to reduce it to 'dance' or 'techno'. But then you can't really dance to it, so they say "uh, well then it's intelligent dance" which is rubbish. It's just intelligent music.
Which comes first for you generally, melody or rhythms?
It's nearly always the melody first. We experiment mostly with melodies. Sometimes we dig out an older melody which we wrote maybe ten years ago, and we re-work it, such as 'Turquoise Hexagon Sun' on this album. Usually we let the rhythms fall into place on the melodies.
How fine is the line between melody (particularly the ones you use) and pop?
It's a very fine line. If an electronic artist says they're not influenced by pop music they're probably lying because everyone grows up hearing it. We always wanted pop music to break out of the conventions of melody and structure that make it pop in the first place. When we listen to pop music we hear things we want it to do, but it never does them. So we try to make our tracks sound kind of pop, so we can do something really surprising with the melody or whatever. We decided that if nobody else was going to write the melodies we wanted to hear, we'd do it ourselves. In the seventies and eighties lots of artists realised that one way to make fresh, original music was to practically remove melody altogether. So most early electronic music was rhythm-oriented. But we like to hear original music which is packed full of melody.
Journalists seem to be going crazy over your melodies, as if melody itself was a novel concept. What do you make of that? Is it "weird" to use melody, these days?
I think people just need to own up and admit that they're bored. Right now it's still very cool to produce music which has no tunes, so a lot of listeners are going along with it, saying 'Yeah I love this too', when in fact, they don't.
Your name is derived from the Canadian film Board, whose 70's era documentaries were a big influence on you. What was it about their films that influenced you, and how does it show through in your music?
The National Film Board movies are an example of visuals and music which never had to be in a recogniseable format. Those films were just one source of inspiration for us, because some of the ideas were really unusual, just like those in experimental animations or public information films, or jingles at the end of TV shows. None of these things had any connection with fashion They're anachronistic, unplaceable in that sense. Few recording artists make beautiful music like that which doesn't pander to trends, so you have to seek it out in obscure old films or TV programmes.
I read somewhere that films are Important segments of your live shows. How so? Any plans on releasing those films in the future?
We usually use films onstage, but wo won't be releasing any of those, because they're only designed to work in that context. We Imagine our music to have a visual element, so we make films. When we try to make a film on It's own it usually ends up having a strong musical element.
Do film and music hold equal Importance to you?
No, music on it's own is more emotionally instant, so it's more Interesting to us. I think it's a lot more difficult to achieve an emotional resonance with film alone. Like with your sense of smell, music is more closely attached to the memory. It’s more temporal than film. We've been doing both for a long time, but we've always loved music more.
Your bio mentions that Michael made his first film on a super-8 at the ago of 12, damaging the film in certain ways to create lighting effects. Looking back, doesn't that seem awfully young to be doing cool stuff lika that?
I don't know, it's just what we got into. I was lent a cheap camera, so I roped my friends into being technicians and actors. We were just messing with the equipment to see what we could get out of it. When I first started playing piano I was about seven. I got bored really quickly so I began putting stuff into the piano to make it sound different. Wires and microphones and bits of paper.
Did other children look at you as somewhat peculiar?
Not really. We had a gang like any other kids. One week we were stealing knives from a local hardware shop, and the next week we were making a home movie.
Is there anything you'd like to say about the "large film project" you are said to be working on?
It's something we've wanted to do for a long time. A beautiful feature-length film with no budget.

Youthful Transgressions

title Youthful Transgressions
author Justin B Hampton
publication Alternative Press
date 1998/11
issue 124
pages p.84



"Youthful Transgressions" is an interview by Justin B Hampton originally published Nov. 1998 in Alternative Press magazine Number 124, p.84.

This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.

Some people just never grow up. Take Michael Sandison and Marcus Eoin of Boards Of Canada. Their music recalls Iong-forgotten video-game themes and documentary film scores colored with a bittersweet sense of longing. The "Canada" in their name refers to a portion of Sandison's and Eoin's youth spent in that country, even though they now work and reside in their secluded Hexagon Sun bunker in Scotland's Pentland Hills. And their new album, Music Has The Right To Children (Matador/ Warp/Skam), presents a cryptic musical manifesto for the world's reluctant adults. Perhaps they've discovered the key to eternal youth; but like all children, they know how to keep a secret.

We prefer to invite the listener into our work, not to smother them in it.
Sandison says of the duo's creative approach.
The most quietly spoken people command the most attention from listeners, and it's also true that people who speak very loudly are often ignored. Once you start decoding things in our music, you'll be drawn into it forever.
Now in their late 20s, Sandison and Eoin have been making music both separately and together since the early '80s. Initially drawn to the goth pop of Cocteau Twins and the proto-electronic groups DAF and Devo, Boards Of Canada wrote music for a small group of family and friends. (This is still evident in their continuing stream of limited-edition releases under pseudonyms as well as the BOC moniker.) Eventually, the group's ranks diminished to the core of Sandison and Eoin, and they were discovered by Autechre's Sean Booth. A series of 12-inches on the intelligent dance music label Skam indicated the duo's instinctual knack for naive rhythms and bittersweet melodies. As Sandison describes the BOC partnership,
It's as though we're psychic about music. We don't need to put it into words or to explain anything to each other. We have unspoken criteria.
Already hard at work on a follow-up to Music, Boards Of Canada are also keeping busy with a low-budget feature film project and planning to visit North America for a spring 1999 tour. It seems as if BOC are poised for success, which may force maturity on them after all. But Sandison sees this as unlikely.
For a lot of people, growing up means giving up everything that excites and stimulates you, and replacing it with repetition and conformity. If that's really what it is, then I don't intend to grow up. Sometimes I think we are adults trying to capture the sounds and feelings of childhood, but then I remember that we're actually kids, just mucking about like we've always done.

Space Age Bachelor

title Space Age Bachelor
author Donald Anderson
publication Space Age Bachelor
date 1998
issue 12 (Winter 1998)
pages 03



"Space Age Bachelor" is an interview by Donald Anderson originally published Winter 1998 in Space Age Bachelor Magazine Number 12, p.03


This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.

Boards of Canada - Music Has the Right to Children Warp label debut (North American release by Matador) comes from two Scots. The group name refers to the strong influence of the 70s documentary movies from the Canadian National Film Board. It seems quite strange to me the way that people expect/demand different levels of weirdness from various mediums. It has occurred to me that a lot of music in commercials is very strange, or documentaries, too, and people have no trouble listening to it. But if you present this music in a pop package, people are almost offended by its weirdness, its indulgence.
Marcus: "That's exactly it. That is such a good point to make because all along we've been more interested in the sort of music you find in that context rather than standard rock and pop. The reason some people might be into our music and other experimental artists' music, is because there's a space for it in the public psyche where the way has been paved by film and tv and so on, so why can't bands produce albums of equally original music?
Many of these movies were nature films.
Michael: "Yeah, Banff Springs. the cover for Music Has the Right to Children was taken there. It's funny all these places in Canada have stolen their names from places in Scotland like Banff, Airdrie, Strathmore, etc loads of them around Calgary alone. We're based near a Scottish wildlife reserve now, beside a wildlife sanctuary."
Particularly affected by it, cause my earliest memories are revisited in this music. One member is born in 1971, and the other is born in 1973. My two older brothers are born in 1970 and 1972 respectively. My family lived in Calgary around 1974, moved east, I was born in 1976, and then the family moved back to Calgary in 1978. But 1980 was my favorite shit. When I was six, I was nostalgic for when I was four.
Michael: "I suppose we're naturally like that. When I was a fetus I was nostalgic for when I was sperm."
Except we come from one sperm, not many sperm. and I wonder if just maybe our early paths ever crossed.
Michael: "It's a small world. I stayed in Braeside for a while and I remember a shoot out near the Trade Winds hotel, when I was told to get down on the floor of the car. I also remember getting ski masks to go trick or treating with my friends, and this old guy thought we were going to mug him."
I feel extra close to the final product, though it's easy for me to say that knowing they're from there. I wonder at what unconscious level this music might have affected me, if I didn't know that? Despite being the current toast of electronica, Music Has the Right to Children doesn't necessarily sound cutting edge.
Marcus: "I think the melodies could have been written anytime but the production couldn't have been done without samplers. It's maybe odd when you think about it because we work hard to downgrade the sound to make it seem dated and worn. But the chopped up vocals and beats can only be done with samplers. As musicians we're capable of producing a good album without all the technology so we approach writing from that angle, as though we want to record a traditional rock record with a band and vocals but then we introduce the technology as we go along to achieve all these impossible things that we'd like to hear an ordinary rock album doing."
It has a spooky, transcendental. The melodies are simple, yet irresistible. They sound familiar, yet distant. When I was born, what melodies did I hear in my head, what melodies have I forgotten already in that first second of life, tears drowning out the final notes of a booming womb symphony?
Michael: "I believe we're all born with the potential to generate all possible melodies. Babies respond to tunes as though they're recognizing something. Music is maths, no matter how messy or atonal it gets, it can always be described by numbers. And there have been all those experiments playing music to unborn babies where they react to it afterwards when they're older. It's in everybody of course so its a shame when someone claims not to be interested in music, because it's a waste of creative power. If you could combine the efforts of every human being to make a super composer, think of the melodies you'd unlock. I sometimes get sad about the future thinking about all the beautiful music which will be written in years to come, because we won't live long enough to witness it."
The implications of electronic music where any sound in the human head can potentially be harnessed by passing the limitations of physical instruments is enormous. It makes me feel so strange, parts of my body I didn't know i had, a funny feeling in my spine, a little tinglebetweenmytoes. [sic] Emotions, in general, I didn't know I had.
Michael: "Definitely. It offers you nearly infinite possible sounds, millions of ways of presenting a melody or a sound. By its very nature it can be the most experimental form of music. That doesn't mean that it always is, because we also believe that most electronic musicians become lazy. It's very easy to make mainstream work like dance music once you have a sampler and a sequencer. The technology lends itself to that style, that's where dance music came from. But it's more of a challenge to write original melodic music. It can bring rare emotions to the surface, especially if you have an ear for fine nuances. It doesn't have to sound electronic at all, and once you accept this you can go anywhere with it."
There's something about "Rue the Whirl" I can't explain. It does my head inside out and in.
Marcus: "That's a simple track. It has a predominate woodwind riff, ascending over and over, which puts you in a trance, but there are some evolving textures in there which may or may not be obvious at first, such as birds and water. It has similar hypnotizing effect to something like the melodies you hear from a rusty swing, needed to be oiled or machinery on a journey, or even a windscreen wiper, the noise it makes over and over. The surrounding environment is continuously moving. I think it works well because everybody wants to rue the whirl."
Um, one question I forgot to ask, what does it mean to 'rue the whirl.' I've never heard the expression, though admittedly there remains some gaps in my knowledge.

Children Have the Right to Film

title Children Have the Right to Film
author Daniel Chamberlin
publication URB
date 1999/01
issue Vol.09 No.63 (Jan/Feb 1999)
pages p.26



"Children Have the Right to Film" is an interview by Daniel Chamberin originally published Jan. 1999 in Urb magazine Volume 09, Number 63 (Jan/Feb 1999), p.26

This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.

Scotland's Boards of Canada (Michael Sandison and Marcus Eoin) make downtempo techno out of samples of smiling children and their tripping teachers, melodic lullabies, tones and rhythms as chilly and deep as a summer loch. Much of the atmosphere created in their music springs from an elaborate, far-from-kitschy use of sampled motifs from both television programs and the '70s-era documentaries produced by the National Film Board of Canada (hence the name). Not surprisingly, original video footage has accompanied some of their live sets alongside soundtracks from obscure children's programming.

How does your film collective, Music70, relate to Boards of Canada's music?
"Sandison: We started making short films as kids in the '80s, when we were also starting to play gigs and write our own music. So we wrote music for the films. We made abstract movies with our friends, so our music became pretty abstract too. Then it got to the point where we were making film music before the films had been created, so we'd get this gang of friends to make a movie around some recordings we'd done. Now our work is a hybrid of those things."
You've named yourself after a Canadian film documentary organization. What aspect of documentaries made such a noteworthy impression?
"Sandison: Documentary soundtracks have always influenced us to some extent, not the ethereal, meaningless [sounds] that you often hear, but the bizarre music that composers can get away with in that context. Public information films fascinate us. We've also been inspired by composers of feature film music like Walter [Wendy] Carlos. Certain soundtracks are very special, like the one for Picnic at Hanging Rock. We're also influenced by experimental filmmakers, particularly animators like Jan Svankmajer."
Do you plan on releasing any of your visual work outside of broadcast during live performances?
"Marcus Eoin: Yeah, that'll happen because much of our film work isn't appropriate for live situations. Now we're working on films combining live action with music and animation - it's like anti-Disney!"
  1. Be Glad for the Song Has No End
  2. Picnic at Hanging Rock
  3. The New Numbers (unknown)
  4. Heavenly Creatures
  5. Dark Star
  6. The Elephant Man
  7. Dandelion Seed (unknown)
  8. Followers
  9. A Man Escaped
  10. Revolution (unknown)
  1. Papillon
  2. Ice Core Drilling (unknown - thought to perhaps be an NFBC film)
  3. The Invention of Destruction
  4. Zabriskie Point
  5. Alice
  6. The Andromeda Strain
  7. Jesus Christ Superstar
  8. Diagram (unknown - may refer to Paul Glabicki's 1978 Diagram Film)
  9. Capricorn One
  10. The Wizard of Oz

interview by Daniel Chamberlin, February 1999.


Facce Nuove

title Facce Nuove
author Gian Paolo Giabini
publication Rumore
date 1999/05
issue 88
pages p.11



"Facce Nuove" is an interview (in Italian) by Gian Paolo Giabini originally published May 1999 in Rumore magazine Number 88, p.11.

This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.

Facce Nuove

Ogni tanto frughiamo fra vecchi nastri e se scopriamo una melodia che ci fa sentire qualcosa, che ci rende nostalgici, la rielaboriamo. E' uno degli aspetti piĂč importanti della musica di Boards Of Canada, perchĂ© per noi la musica deve essere introspettiva. Deve portare in sĂ© un che di amaro, di riflessivo. Deve dare emozioni.
CosĂŹ Michael Sandison sintetizza quella che Ăš la filosofia di Boards Of Canada, duo inglese che lo scorso anno, con Music Has The Right To Children e piĂč di recente con Peel Sessions, Ăš stato una delle sorprese piĂč interessanti all'interno di quella scena ambient sempre meno visibile, sempre piĂč "intelligente". Il segreto del loro "successo"? Una musica che, come spesso accade nei territori bazzicati da Warp (per cui incidono) e Rephlex (l'etichetta di Aphex Twin), Ăš giocoso, ludica e allo stesso tempo geneticamente malinconica, fatta di semplici melodie per piano mandate in loop e poi incastonate fra loro secondo un criterio consequenziale matematico. Una musica che Ăš flusso di ritmiche elaborate e spesso "distorte" alla maniera di Aphex Twin, ma in cui soprattutto, all'interno dell'evoluzione del suono, tutto confluisce teneramente, secondo un'inedita attitudine "intimista" che tinteggia con colori tenui la musica di Music Has The Right Io Children, lasciando che ogni cosa venga filtrata da un desiderio di emozionare ed emozionarsi e andando magicamente oltre le logiche del dance floor. Non avrebbe potuto essere altrimenti. Basta sapere da dove arrivano Michael e Marcus (Eoin) per capire questo posizionamento inusuale. Nel '92 infatti, dopo aver fatto parte di diversi progetti, iniziano a suonare regolarmente da soli, durante una serata (Redmoon) che si svolge tutti i mesi, fra le rovine di un monastero, in Scozia, lontano mille miglia dal fragore del dance floor. Tre anni dopo, nel '95, costituiscono uno studio in un bunker fra le colline di Petland, in Scozia, dove nascono i primi pezzi di Music Has The Right To Children. A parte questo isolazionismo fisico BOC confermano la loro lontananza dalla "dance" con un "modus operandi" che la dice lungo sulla propensione ad atmosfere crepuscolari ed armoniche che nulla hanno a che fare con la fisicitĂ  dei big-beat e della chemical generation.
Paradossalmente la maggior parte del tempo lo passiamo a lavorare sulle ritmiche
dice Michael.
E' un lavoro di precisione tecnica con cui cerchiamo di creare dei suoni sporchi e "vecchi" che si avvicinino ai dischi degli anni 70. E' per questo che passiamo ore e ore a suonare noi stessi ritmiche o melodie per poi "degradarle". Infine, una volta fatto questo, passiamo alla melodia. Registriamo centinaia di micromelodie incomplete. Poi facciamo una selezione. Scegliamo quelle che ci piacciono di piĂč e ci costruiamo attorno i pezzi, tenendo sempre ben presente un concetto; quello di filtrare mentalmente la musica, cercando di sentire suoni sinistri, in cui ci sia sempre un che di nostalgico, di malinconico.

Note: Translation by ChatGPT-o4


New faces

Every now and then we rummage through old tapes, and if we discover a melody that makes us feel something, that makes us nostalgic, we rework it. It is one of the most important aspects of Boards Of Canada’s music because, for us, music must be introspective. It must carry a hint of bitterness, of reflection. It must evoke emotions.

This is how Michael Sandison synthesizes the philosophy of Boards Of Canada, an English duo that last year, with Music Has The Right To Children and more recently with Peel Session, has been one of the most interesting surprises within that increasingly invisible, increasingly “intelligent” ambient scene. The secret of their “success”? Music that, as often happens in the territories frequented by Warp (for which they record) and Rephlex (Aphex Twin’s label), is playful and at the same time genetically melancholic, made of simple piano melodies looped and then interwoven according to a mathematical consequential criterion. Music that is a flow of elaborate and often “distorted” rhythms in the manner of Aphex Twin, but in which everything, especially within the evolution of sound, tenderly converges according to an unprecedented “intimate” attitude that paints the music of Music Has The Right To Children with soft colors, allowing everything to be filtered by a desire to evoke emotions and magically going beyond the logic of the dance floor. It couldn’t have been otherwise. Just knowing where Michael and Marcus (Eoin) come from is enough to understand this unusual positioning. In ’92, after being part of several projects, they started playing regularly on their own during an event (Redmoon) held every month among the ruins of a monastery in Scotland, a thousand miles away from the noise of the dance floor. Three years later, in ’95, they set up a studio in a bunker among the hills of Pentland, Scotland, where the first pieces of Music Has The Right To Children were born. Apart from this physical isolation, BOC confirms their distance from “dance” with a “modus operandi” that speaks volumes about their inclination toward twilight and harmonic atmospheres that have nothing to do with the physicality of big-beat and the chemical generation.

Paradoxically, we spend most of our time working on rhythms.

says Michael.

It is a work of technical precision with which we try to create dirty and “old” sounds that resemble the records of the ‘70s. That’s why we spend hours and hours playing rhythms or melodies ourselves and then “degrading” them. Finally, once we have done this, we move on to the melody. We record hundreds of incomplete micromelodies. Then we make a selection. We choose the ones we like the most and build the pieces around them, always keeping in mind one concept; that of mentally filtering the music, trying to hear sinister sounds, in which there is always something nostalgic, melancholic.

Warp Factor Ten

title Warp Factor Ten
author Toby Manning
publication Jockey Slut
date 1999/10
issue Vol.02 No. 22 (Oct/Nov 1999)
pages p.47
Warp Factor Ten is an interview by Toby Manning originally published Oct. 1999 in Jockey Slut magazine Vol.02, No. 22 (Oct/Nov 1999), p.47.

This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.

Nostalgic pastoral electronic duo, holed-up in the Scottish Highlands...

What Warp record had the biggest influence on you?
Polygon Window (Aphex Twin) - Surfing On Sine Waves. I first heard it at a bonfire in the hills - friends used to make us tapes before we knew what it was. We were Warp pirates - we probably did them out a lot of money before we started making money for them.
How should Rob and Steve celebrate?
By presenting a cheque for ten million pounds to every artist with 'Canada' in their name!
What'll you be doing in ten years time?
Publishing books and releasing movies. That was the masterplan before we started doing Boards of Canada.
What's your weirdest Warp moment?
We were in Germany with Autechre and we were all pissed off 'cos we hadn't been provided with a trailer. Sean from Autechre broke into someone else's trailer and stole loads of champagne, distributed them to everyone then got so plastered that he got rugby a certain electronic artist[7] into the mud!
Who's your favourite Warp artist?
Slum - they did this limit 7" called 'Twilight Mushroom' - like a hybrid of Ween and My Bloody Valentine. It's a very un-Warp track - that's probably one of the reasons why I loved it.
What's happened to your album?
It'll come out in the spring of 2000. It'll be more organic - we're using a lot of vocals and flutes. It's not hippie shite though - it's all still synthesized. It's a huge psychedelic behemoth!

Les Chant Future Des Musiques Electroniques

title Les Chant Future Des Musiques Electroniques
author Max Renn
publication Coda
date 2000/01
issue Series 02 No.09
pages p.21



"Les Chant Future Des Musiques Electroniques" is an interview (in French) by Max Renn originally published Jan 2000 in Coda magazine Series 02, Number 09, p.21

This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.

Les Chant Future Des Musiques Electroniques

Concept & interview : Max Renn / Traduction : Roxanne / Photos : DR

Nous ne pouvons plus ignorer que la bande-son de notre quotidien est presque entiĂšrement dominĂ©e par la technologie. Du vrombissement souterrain du mĂ©tro aux vibrations de la circulation, en passant par le souffle du ventilateur estival, nos sons familiers sont gĂ©nĂ©rĂ©s par des machines. La musique n'Ă©chappe pas Ă  cette rĂšgle. De techno qu'elle Ă©tait il y a 10 ans, elle est devenue tout simplement "Ă©lectronique". Ou plutĂŽt "musiques Ă©lectroniques" au pluriel, car elles sont aujourd'hui multiples et parfois mĂȘme indiscernables de l'analogique. Alors, Ă  l'aube du troisiĂšme millĂ©naire, nous pensions qu'il Ă©tait intĂ©ressant de laisser s'exprimer les artistes, toutes gĂ©nĂ©rations confondues, qui ont participĂ© Ă  l'Ă©volution d'un genre aujourd'hui incontournable. Aussi, nous avons dĂ©cidĂ© de poser une question, et une seule, Ă  tous ceux qui gravitent, de prĂšs ou de loin, dans l'univers des musiques Ă©lectroniques : "Quelles Ă©volutions envisagez-vous pour les musiques Ă©lectroniques du futur ?". A cela, ils ont bien voulu rĂ©pondre.

...

3/ MIKE SANDISON MARCUS EOIN BOARD OF CANADA Duo Ă©lectronique (Warp)

Mike Sandison : L'avenir de la musique n'a jamais Ă©tĂ© aussi intĂ©ressant Ă  envisager qu'aujourd'hui, et ceci parce qu'il est dĂ©sormais en mesure de se nourrir d'un riche passĂ©. Je veux dire par lĂ  que les performances rĂ©alisĂ©es au cours des dix derniĂšres annĂ©es, qu'elles soient populaires ou underground, s'inspirent des courants qui ont Ă©mergĂ© par le passĂ© : les 60's, le funk et la disco des annĂ©es 70. Aujourd'hui, des labels comme Skam s'inspirent des annĂ©es 80, et on peut vraiment supposer que cette dĂ©cennie influencera et alimentera bientĂŽt la musique actuelle. D'ici lĂ , les genres musicaux auront Ă©puisĂ© toutes leurs possibilitĂ©s sans plus pouvoir s'orienter oĂč que ce soit de connu. Et c'est lĂ  que l'aventure commence !
Marcus Eoin : L'afflux de musique gĂ©nĂ©rĂ©e par ordinateur prendra des proportions considĂ©rables, tout comme le flou artistique qui rĂšgnera dans les domaines lĂ©gaux, tels que la protection des droits d'auteur et. la distribution des samples. Internet, en faisant tomber un grand nombre de musiques dans le domaine public dĂšs leur premiĂšre diffusion, jouera un rĂŽle considĂ©rable. Des multinationales telles que Sony et Microsoft chercheront Ă  maĂźtriser le flux de donnĂ©es musicales et Ă©choueront.

Retrouvez Board Of Canada en ligne Ă  :

http://www.ednet.co.uk/-ehx/boc/index.html

The Future Sounds Of Electronic Music

Concept & interview : Max Renn / Translation : Roxanne / Photos : DR

We can't ignore anymore that the sounds we hear nowadays are greatly dominated by technology. From the roars of subways to the vibrations of road traffic, without forgetting the wind coming from fans, the sounds we are now familiar with are generated by machines. So does music. From techno it was during the last decade, it is now simply "electronic". Or rather "electronic music" in the plural, because it has become wide and sometimes not so different from the analogic. At the dawn of third millennium, we thought it would be interesting to let artists talk, artists from all generations who got involved in the electronic music evolution, making it a major kind of music. So, we decided to ask just one simple question: "what development do you foresee to electronic music?". To that, they kindly answered.

Mike Sandison: The future of music has never been as interesting as it is today, because it can know feed itself upon a rich past. What I mean is that many records from the last ten years, either mainstream or underground, have been inspired by older musical tendencies: the 60's, the funk and disco from the 70's. Nowadays, labels such as Skam inspire themselves with music from the 80's, and we can guess this decade will soon influence modern music. Then, music genres will worn all their possibilities out, without being able to head on already known stuff. And that's when the adventure starts!
Marcus Eoin: Music made on computers will greatly expand, just like the vagueness that will rise in legal domains such as copyright protections and samples distribution. Internet, by making a lot of different musics public as soon as they're broadcasted for the first time, will have a huge impact. Multinational companies such as Sony or Microsoft will try to have control over this music flow and fail.

Boards of The Underground

title Boards of The Underground
author Richard Southern
publication Jockey Slut
date 2000/12
issue Vol.03 No.11
pages 30-34



"Boards of The Underground" is an interview by Richard Southern originally published Dec. 2000 in Jockey Slut magazine Volume 03, Number 11, pp.30-34

This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.

They're the fire-starters, the rustic fire-starters, who've influenced everyone from Air to Radiohead. Boards of Canada invite Richard Southern to their secret den and share with him their bluffer's guide to making the perfect bonfire and why they have little time for Leo Di Caprio.

One time we were out in the woods on a really wet day,
remembers Boards of Canada's Marcus Eoin.
My friend bet me I couldn't start a fire using only one match. But I managed to get this meagre little flame going in this damp little patch of ground. Then when we were about a mile down the road, we looked back and it was like, 'whoosh!' - the whole wood was on fire!
Everybody's favourite commune-dwelling creators of pastoral electronica, arsonists? Whatever next? Adverts for Shell oil?
I love the countryside,
Marcus protests, adding,
I hate the idea that animals or trees or anything might get hurt. I had dreams about it for months afterwards.

This isn't the only fire that Boards of Canada have unwittingly started. Just over two years ago, their debut album Music Has the Right to Children, a muted, un-ostentatious collection of haunting, home-made melodies initially just seemed like one of electric haven Warp's more consistent releases. Then, slowly, word of mouth began to crackle like sparking kindling. Here was a record not only spotters and electronic obsessives could love - a hazily nostalgic record which snuck its way into your head and set up a commune. The album's muttering voices seemed to speak in tongues; rumours of occult dabblings only added to the Boards of Canada enigma. Sales, while impressive for a leftfield release, were a meagre glow compared to the blaze Music Has the Right. caused amongst Boards of Canada's musical peers.


Suddenly, those slo-mo, slightly melancholy synth-loops were everywhere. On Super Furry Animals' Guerilla (see:: "Some Things Come from Nothing"), on Danmass' "Happy Here" on the Sunday Best compilation, on Air's Virgin Suicides; even on the ever trend-tailing Texas' new material. As if that wasn't enough, Boards' influence can also clearly be heard on new albums by both the barometer of all things buzzworthy, Madonna, and Radiohead, whose much puzzled-over Kid A sounds rather closer to Music Has the Right. than it does to the stadium-conquering OK Computer.

We never expected to have anything like this kind of impact,
confesses Michael Sandison in the rather sterile confines of Warp's new London offices.
We've had people ringing up wanting us to produce them and it's been like (mimes covering the receiver while gesticulating excitedly), 'Marcus, you'd never believe who's on the phone!
The pair are sprawled relaxedly on the purple sofa, Michael long-haired, Marcus shaven-headed, hooded-topped and baggy-trousered, gear simultaneously eterna-hip and, as is the way with country folk, strangely practical.
We don't mind influencing people like Super Furry Animals,
continues Michael in his precise, (Miss Jean) Brodie-esque brogue.
We know they're really into music. But we've got fed up with the magpies. The people who just pay minions to keep their ear to the ground and check out what's hip.
Like Radiohead?
No. We think they're brilliant,
Michael demurs.
I think Kid A's the best thing they've ever done,
adds Marcus in his thicker Scots slur.
So who are we talking about?
Bigger people than that.
Bigger?
Artists whose status is somewhere between Radiohead and God,
answers Marcus, mystifyingly.
They won't be drawn any further.

Secretiveness is congenital to Boards of Canada. These, after all, are people who refuse to reveal the location of the commune they inhabit in the Pentland hills near Edinburgh, who won't give out their phone number or even, for the most part, give interviews. They've chosen Jockey Slut in favour of the covers of a number of major national publications, and, in person, these childhood friends radiate a warmth and amiability that's anything but enigmatic. They finish each other's sentences, listen intently to questions and in contrast to most ego-blinkered musicians even ask questions themselves.

It's one of the reasons we don't like playing live,
says Marcus, still running with his theme.
You worry about who might be in the audience, scouting for ideas.
He pauses.
Then again, last time we played live, it was a disaster.
The monitors exploded in the middle of the set,
Mike explains, laughing.
People were cheering because they thought it was deliberate pyrotechnics!
Marcus adds.
Yeah, well, shame it was out of time,
says Mike.
While an EP, In a Beautiful Place Out in the Country, is issued this month (a BoC manifesto if ever there was one), the eagerly-anticipated second album is running more than a year behind schedule with no release date in sight. Hmm, three year gaps between records:: you're proper Warp artist now then?
Slightly embarrassed grins.
When you've got Aphex on your label, everyone else seems easy.
So did the impact of the first album just make it hard to follow?
No,
says Marcus, thoughtfully,
I think we lost about a year just rebuilding our studio.
Less Stone Roses than My Bloody Valentine, then?
Well, we haven't put sandbags around it yet!

Equally, you don't need a City & Guilds engineering diploma to deduce that the densely atmospheric, otherworldly aspects of the Boards' music is painstakingly achieved.
We take such long, individual paths to get where we go, paths that nobody else could ever follow,
says Mike.
So it takes us ten times as long to finish things,
says Marcus.
Where some people will work on a track solidly for four days, we'll spend that long just on a hi-hat sound,
Mike laughs.
It'd be funny if it wasn't true,
Marcus chuckles.
Then again, if there was a way of doing it easily, by pushing a button, we'd do something else because it wouldn't be special anymore,
says Michael.
We like to make things hard for ourselves,
shrugs Marcus. Sequestered away in the Scottish hills, "getting it together in the country", is a way of life for Boards of Canada. Even taking into account childhood sojourns in Canada, they've never known anything different. Hardly listening to contemporary music, keeping away from the back-slapping musical backstage, rarely reading magazines, living in what was once a commune (Mike: "People had kids, or went off travelling. It's down to a hardcore of four or five now") but is now effectively a hill-bound artists' colony - theirs is a deliberately rarefied world.
It's the only way to do it,
says Mike.
Cut yourself off, pull the shutters down.
The world's getting smaller and smaller now,
continues Marcus.
We're all sharing the same clothes, the same magazines and the same ideas: everyone's got the same reference points.
He laughs.
It's globalisation, man!

It's never people who are part of the general flow who make amazing art,
says Mike.
Everyone's collectively going down one particular branch of music. With the last album we were too affected by what was going on in that particular moment in history. But the new one is going to be in its own outlandish and unique universe. It's like we're inhabiting an alternative, parallel present where maybe someone in the past took a different branch to the way things actually went.

At times, the pair's penchant for privacy can border on the paranoid. They're so concerned about hackers that they've both got completely separate computers for using the net.

They can't jump through thin air,
says Mike.
I'm really paranoid about security,
adds Marcus.
We've got all these tapes and discs going back 15 years or so. I've got this really complicated solar alarm on my house so that it's impossible to switch it off without cutting five different wires in different places simultaneously.

Aware that their bunker mentality may be getting out of hand, the pair have made a conscious effort to get out more recently.

You have to remember you've got a body with two legs,
says Michael. Before 'Music...' took off, theirs was a more leisurely isolation, their music simply soundtracks for the Red Moon events they and their friends would organise in the hills near the commune:
Just 50 people around a bonfire with a ghetto blaster.

These days, they still drive out into the country with their friends, set up camp and make bonfires. Bonfires, you will notice, figure large in the Boards of Canada world. You can almost hear the crackling twigs on many of their cuts.

As the title indicates, the new EP is typically BoC. "Kid for Today" sounds like what it is - a Music Has the Right to Children contender, while "Amo Bishop Roden" and "Zoetrope" (named after Francis Ford Coppola's San Francisco studio) go deeper into the hazy territory between sleep waking.
It's like when you glaze over when you're listening to something,
says Marcus,
but you're still there at the same time.
There's a sort of running theme of melancholy to it,
says Mike,
but it's true, it's not a great leap from 'Music Has the Right...' The nearest clue to where we're going is on the title track. But a lot of it will be even more outlandish than that. If you could call the last album electronica, you definitely couldn't call the new album that.

We've split and gone in two directions,
continues Marcus.
There are some things which are just acoustic instruments playing acoustic music, while we've also done some even more electronic tracks. Some of the best ones manage to achieve both at the same time.
Apart from this EP, the only Boards of Canada music that's emerged since their characteristically immaculate contribution to Warp's tenth anniversary album has been the music for, of all things, an advert for Telecom Italia. Not just any old advert, either, but one which also features Leonardo Di Caprio. Today Boards of Canada are full of surprises.
It's not the first one we've done either,
grins Mike.
We did one for Nissan last year. Then again, I drive a Nissan.
Always did, or do now?
I'd have been more than happy to have been paid in cars, believe me!

The explanation is that both adverts were done with filmmaker du jour Chris Cunningham, "because he asked us and we respect him". They're not saying, but rather than heralding that Shell advert, could it be that the Boards have their eye on Cunningham's future feature work? It isn't, after all, a big step from imaginary soundtracks to actual films, and it'd be hard to contemplate a more perfect union.

We actually gave him an hour and a half's worth of music, of which he used one 20 second fragment. He was just really excited to have new Boards of Canada tracks that no one else has heard, that's why he likes working with us. But we trust him. We know he wouldn't do anything else with it.

Marcus grins:
He also knows we'd break both his legs if he did.
And no, they didn't get to meet Leo.
He utters one word. God knows what he got paid. We wanted to record 'Leonardo Di Caprio is a wanker' and put it in the advert music backwards.

The future of music may be uncertain, but Boards of Canada seem very definite about their own future musical direction.

We've got a better notion now than we ever did of what Boards of Canada is,
says Mike.
Now we know that we're supposed to be doing really psychedelic, organic-sounding music. I think to some extent we've pandered to the electronic scene previously, putting elements in that we're not necessarily into.

Marcus continues:
It's going to be simultaneously more listenable and more out there, psychedelic, gorgeous and strange.

THINGS BOARDS OF CANADA LIKE

  • The wobble you get on an off-centre record ("We even decide if it's wobbling at 33 or 45 rpm!).
  • The little bursts of music you get behind a logo.
  • Things that are a little bit out of tune:: "Space Oddity" by David Bowie, "God Only Knows" by the Beach Boys, "Wonderful World" by Louis Armstrong, and "Tomorrow Never Knows" by the Beatles (Marcus:: "In modern music everything is perfect, rationalised, bland.").
  • "The sounds between notes."
  • Progressive rock (Mike:: "For at least trying to get somewhere no one's been").
  • Kung-fu.
  • "Listening in increments."
  • Devo, Twins Cocteau and Aphex, Nitzer Ebb, acid folkies, the Incredible String Band, the Wu-Tang Clan. "RZA," it seems, "listens like we do."
  • A record Marcus found in America which features a Christian robot that sang songs if you pressed a button in his stomach ("The scary part is that it was very Old Testament, slitting the throats of first born and stuff").
  • "Geno" by Dexy's Midnight Runners.
  • "The sound when you're at a fairground and you're caught between two different sound systems and they combine to create something new and outlandish."

THINGS BOARDS OF CANADA DON'T LIKE

  • Electronic gadgets that don't work (Marcus:: "It makes me sad to see things that have just been thrown away. I'll pick it up and take it back home and try and make it work. I've still got a brown valve television set from the '70s and it works better than my friends' wide screen TVs").
  • Meat (in Marcus' case).
  • Napster (Marcus:: "It's not the big rich artists who'll suffer, it's the smaller artists. Why should people buy their records when they can download them for free? The issue of choice is illusory. If lots of musicians go out of business, then there's only going to be a smaller number of extremely commercial crap artists to choose from."

BOARDS OF CANADA'S TIPS ON BONFIRES

  • Marcus:: "For kindling the best way to ensure it catches is to get loads of pieces more or less the same length and lay them in a grid, then overlay them in a lattice."
  • Mike:: "You don't need matches or a lighter. If it's wet or windy they often won't work. But two twigs will. The trick is to tie string to either end of one twig, then you can rub them together faster than your hands ever could."

DISCOGRAPHY

  • Acid Memories (Music 70, 1989)
Absurdly rare, cassette-only release from the barely teen Boards, then six-strong. Guitars meet electronics in embryonic but recognisably Boards-ian melodicism.
  • Play by Numbers (Music 70, 1994)
Five-track CD from what was now a trio, boasting a My Bloody Valentine influence in places, shifting further into electronics in others.
  • Hooper Bay (Music 70, 1994)
Closer still:: the use of kids' voices was a hint of what was to come. People pay small fortunes for copies.
  • Twoism (Music 70, 1995)
The last record as a trio when everything slipped into focus and pricked up record company ears.
  • BOC Maxima (Music 70, 1996)
Twenty tracks:: half of which would appear on later EPs and albums; the others remain an impossibly elusive prospect (50 copies only).
  • Hi Scores EP (Skam, 1996)
Essential for the Eno-esque "Everything You Do is a Balloon" and the spooky electro of "Nlogax".
  • Korona (from Mask 100 compilation) (Skam, 1996)
Darkness visible:: slurring synths and an uneasy, off-kilter rhythm.
  • Untitled (from Mask 200 as Hell Interface) (Skam, 1997)
Even darker, harder, faster side of the Boards. "Who are Hell Interface?" they ask.
  • Michael Fakesch "Surfaise" (Boards of Canada remix) (Warp, 1997)
Spacious, dissonant, slightly disembodied ambience.
  • Mira Calix "Sandsings" (Boards of Canada remix) (Warp, 1997)
Boards render Warp's press officer's warblings intelligble.
  • Jack Dangers "Prime Audio Soup" (Boards of Canada remix) (Play it Again Sam, 1998)
Respectful to the Meat Beat man, this is a curious, slightly gothy hybrid.
  • "Aquarius" (seven-inch single) (Skam, 1998)
A different version to the one on Music. Sesame Street meets Kraftwerk meets the between-scenes bits from Seinfeld.
  • Music Has the Right to Children (Skam/Warp, 1998)
Music has The Right to Children claimed not just children but grown adults of shock both sexes.
  • Bubbah's Tum "Dirty Great Mable" (III, 1998)
Unusually beat-heavy, balanced by their trademark use of kids' voices and big, spooky chords. Their final mix.
  • "Orange Romeda" (from We Are Reasonable People compilation) (Warp, 1999)
Very much in the Music. vein. Children's voices, bird's wing percussion and yearning, half-heard synth melodies.
  • Peel Sessions (Strange Fruit, 1999)
Reworks of "Aquarius" and "Olson", plus newie "Happy Cycling".
  • In a Beatiful Place Out in the Country EP (Warp, 2000)
OK, so it's an EP not an album, and it's not exactly a revolutionary departure, but when familiar ground is this gorgeous, who's complaining?

interview by Richard Southern, December 2000.


Breaking Into Heaven

title Breaking Into Heaven
author Emma Warren
publication The Face
date 2001/01
issue Vol.03 No.48
pages 94-98
Breaking Into Heaven is an interview by Emma Warren originally published Jan. 2001 in The Face magazine Volume 03, Number 48, pp.94-98.

This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.

Breaking Into Heaven


Text Emma Warren

Photography Boards Of Canada


Boards Of Canada make music from the top of the world, in a twisty parallel universe where it’s 3am all day. They’d like to take you there.

Kings Of Quiet

Arthur’s seat is an 850ft outcrop of volcanic rock that melts into the outskirts of Edinburgh’s; Scottish electronica duo Boards Of Canada are perched halfway up. It’s not quite, as the new EP would have it A Beautiful place out in the county, but it’s near enough to the grainy, rural influences that seep through everything they create. This is as close as we’re allowed to get to their secret countryside studio. ‘It’s only to keep unwanted visitors away,’ explains Mike Sandison. ‘We receive a lot of strange mail. On guy sent us mail addressed to ‘Jesus’ and ‘Alien’. I’m not sure which one I was
’


Myth: boards Of Canada are easy to define. They don’t let other people photograph them. They conduct media relations by email. They live out in the wilds of Scotland, making distressed, nostalgic electronica and esoteric short films. Truth: Boards Of Canada are all this and more. But also: Boards Of Canada want to make parallel-universe pop records that sound like an electronic version of the beach boys ubermotional zenith, Pet sounds. Sandison and his musical partner Marcus Eoin supply artwork instead of posing fro photographs – because, they say, ‘we look like potatoes.’ Actually that’s not strictly true. But this is: Boards Of Canada are the kings of quiet, grand rulers of tune-laden analogue electronica, and despite their insistence that it is not the sound of coming down, it is the sound of 3am
only more so.


Their 1998 debut album Music Has the Right To Children became a word-of-mouth sensation, selling 100,000 copies worldwide. Electronic, quiet, sonorous and off kilter, every track showed that electronic experimentation could live in peace with beautiful melodies. Boards Of Canada tunes became a fixture on Chris Morris’ Radio 1 show Blue Jam (‘he’s a ten-times-more –intelligent Jeremy Paxman who woke up one day and decided not to lie anymore,’ says Sandison). Doves were desperate to tour with them. Then a type of quiet (or quietist) revolution happened in music. Folksy Norwegian duo Kings Of Convenience called their album Quiet is the new loud. The most successful indie bands (Travis, Coldplay) were no longer loud and macho, but more mellow and folky. The current stream of bedroom electronica, from Melodic labels Minotaur Shock to Warp’s ambient trash-can hip-hop outfit Prefuse 73, makes calmness the new virtue in experimental music. Shh!


Boards Of Canada may be influential, but they wear it lightly. ‘We just want to make something that sounds like a pop record from another dimension,’ shouts Eoin over the noise of a growing downpour.‘ Something that everyone is listening to, but that sounds really, really strange.’ Standing between the clouds and earth, looking over a busy city from an ancient explosion of rock, Boards Of Canada, with their ageless, melancholic, otherworldly music, seem uniquely placed to do just that.


Though they’d rather die than be bombastic about it, like all great pop bands, Boards Of Canada define themselves by what they dislike as much as what they love. They stand for childlike innocence, not adult cynicism; natural awe, not chemical thrills; and above all, a rural ideal completely opposite to the fast-paced urban excitement that has powered pop music for nearly 50 years. ‘Our music is a negative reaction to the city,’ declares Sandison in a voice that mixes well-bred Edinburgh vowels with a softer, countryside burr. ‘In cites, the clubs and DJs all influence each other. It’s like a soup,’ agrees Eoin, enjoying the very non-urban view of the North Sea with a rainbow high above. ‘Like clothes-shop music. If I ever heard any of our music in a clothes shop, I’d quit!’ Not that they’ve anything against commerciality per se. After meeting Chris Cunningham through their label, Warp, Boards Of Canada composed music for a handful of his promos including a 1999 Nissan ad and a 30-second Telecom Italia short that featured Leonardo Di Caprio. ‘Chris gets very excited about the music,’ they smile. ‘He was nearly exploding on the phone last time we sent him some tracks. He reckoned the new EP Sounded like vocoder music at a Sunday school.’


Surely drugs must have inspired such weirdness? Boards of Canada – typically – disagree. ‘We want to reiterate this,’ says Sandion. ‘This isn’t drug music. I’ve always imagined it as daytime music: it’s a beautiful day, in the middle of the afternoon, and you’re with your friends listening to twisty music’. Boards have, of course, done time under the influence (‘mushrooms!’), but now their musical vision is unadulterated. ‘Imagine going back in time to a point where music branched off, but it went down a slightly different alley.’ Sandison sighs. ‘So it’s still music, and it’s still 2000 but it sounds brilliant, fresh and strange.’ In a parallel universe of their making, there would be ‘more colour’ (Sandison), ‘more extremity and less grey’ (Eoin), and ‘no Starbucks!’ (both).


Eoin and Sandison grew up in Cullen, a small fishing village on the west coast of Scotland. Their fathers were both construction managers. Each family emigrated within a few months of each other, and between 1976 and 1980, Eoin and Sandison found themselves living only a few streets apart in Calgary, Canada. ‘We knew each other before, but it was just coincidence that both our families went,’ says Sandison. ‘It was a thing to do in the late Seventies – everyone seemed to be going to try something fresh, to get some mores space.’ Canada, they say, wasn’t that different from home (‘its just a big, inflated Scotland’). But the place had a lasting influence, if only in Boards Of Canada name – inspired by the hours they spend watching nature documentaries made by the Film Board of Canada. After their families moved back to Cullen, Eoin and Sandison spent their adolescent years getting into trouble (for breaking windows and stealing things), experimenting with electronic music and making basic stop-start animation with an old Super-8 camera and zombie movies with masks and fake blood. Their work still mines this freewheeling, innocent, DIY aesthetic. Live, Boards Of Canada perform banked by TV sets playing clips from safety information films, grainy images of children in faded rainbow colours, and their own family cine films showing them cycling round in circles in bright suburban gardens. Their record sleeves are decorated with pictures of trees, birds, buses and children’s paintings. It’s a hidden, half-forgotten world, a million miles away from sophisticated, grown-up, personality-led pop music. ‘Cullen’s one of those places where there’s nothing for kids to do, but that’s a good thing because you’re creating everything yourself,’ reckons Eoin.


‘I’m still conscious of being in our own little world,’ says Sandison. The pair finally ventured out of village life to study at Edinburgh University. Sandison studied music; Eoin dropped out of an artificial intelligence degree. The students, he says wanted to ‘do mad things with like grow DNA and leave it to learn’, but the lecturers were more interested in equations. In 1996 the pair released Twoism, an EP of grainy melancholia on their own label Music 70,. Autechre’s Sean Booth heard it and hooked them up with Manchester electronic label Skam, who released their single Aquarius’. Autechre’s links with Skam made a move to Warp almost inevitable: MHTRTC was joint release between the two labels. Driving around the outskirts of Edinburgh, drying off in (the) warmth of his plush, silver BMW, Eoin ejects a Stevie Wonder CD out from the car stereo and rummages through his rucksack. ‘You have to hear this. It’s the Mysterious Voices Of Bulgaria – 30 women in traditional dress singing these unbelievable harmonies! It’s the kind of music that is totally divorced from normal music, bit I love it. It resets my clock.’


The new album, as yet untitled, also promises to rest your clock. ‘Some artists air their dirty laundry. We know which songs fit the Boards umbrella,’ they say. Neither Sandison or Eoin will be drawn into specifics, although they say things like ‘my dream album would be an organic, really melodic electronic album’; ‘it’s a lot darker, and some tracks sound like they’re 25 years old’; and ‘ we use a lot of subliminal messages. You have to reconstruct them in your mind.’ They have based a number of new songs on mathematical equations (working out frequencies for melodies that directly correlate to the changing amount of light in one day, for example). They’ve also painstakingly downgraded the production, so that it sounds like it has been made on ancient equipment: ‘We like the nostalgia of it.’


Two books of their photography and artwork are also planned: one to accompany the album, the other a ‘proper, glossy’ coffee table affair. All of which goes some way to explaining the long gaps between releases. ‘Someone wrote that we smoke too much and that’s why we the music takes so long’ splutter’s Sandison. ‘They have no idea!’ The fact is that , like the countryside itself, Boards Of Canada can’t be rushed. The gentle, ageless beauty of their art is the result of months and years of evolution; and of constant, backbreaking work which brooks no metropolitan distraction. Their sound may happen to be fashionable, but they themselves are beyond fashion.


Mike Sandison once had a dream that he was in Edinburgh, near the castle. All the stonework of the buildings and the roads were covered in flowerbeds sown with a tapestry of bright flowers in concentric patterns. ‘It was the most amazing thing, and it stuck with me for ages. It made me think: there’s nowhere in the world like this! Nowhere at all! So I thought we should try and make tunes that people in that town would be listening to’.


Big Country

title Big Country
author Steve Nicholls
publication XLR8R
date 2001/03
issue 47
pages 30-33



"Big Country" is an interview by Steve Nicholls originally published Mar. 2001 in XLR8R magazine Issue 47, pp.30-33.

This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.


Music fans around the globe wait patiently for the second full-length release from mysterious Scottish duo Boards of Canada, who turned music on its head with their debut recording's gentle, psychedelic ambience. Fan to the core, England's Steve Nicholls fulfills a dream, travelling north to the group's Scottish hideaway to investigate the source of their sorcery.


I'll never forget the first time, over two years ago, I heard Boards Of Canada's debut album Music Has The Right To Children. Prior to its arrival I was expecting something kind of special, because of the quality of their previous single "Aquarius" and the "Hi Scores" EP, released on the UK guerrilla-tactics electronic label Skam. I clearly remember receiving the album, by then released jointly with Warp Records, and time stopped. I sat and listened to the whole album, overpowered by the myriad kaleidoscopic layers, messages, hallucinations and images it relayed. It was like the tantalisingly elusive parts of a beautiful dream that you struggle to grasp after waking.

Two years later and I finally get to interview Marcus Eoin and Michael Sandison, Boards Of Canada. I say finally because I firmly believe that, in Music Has The Right To Children, they made one of the great records of the last decade, and with the advent of a new album in the next few months, there is a distinct possibility that they might repeat the feat. And it's not just me-Eoin and Sandison also freely admit that they are trying to make the perfect record.

We are being pretty ambitious with what we are trying to do with it musically,
says Sandison.
We want to do this one at our own pace and only deliver it when we think we've got something that is absolutely perfect, with no flaws. We want it to be so that every track on it is a really long lasting track that we personally love, and keep on loving, and play over and over again. It's a difficult thing to achieve, and the chances are that we're not going to do that because no one ever gets to that point. Sometimes I hear albums by bands that are so perfect that they could have, and in some case should have, retired, like My Bloody Valentine's Loveless. I would've been happy if they had never made another record after that.
It's like that thing...
adds Eoin.
What do you do if you make the perfect album?

In some ways, for Boards Of Canada to have disappeared after releasing one album would have suited the image of mysteriousness that has sprung up around them. Partly due to the cut up and addled vocal samples that littered Music Has The Right To Children and instantly initiated talk of subliminal messages, and partly due to the unavoidable feeling that there was something very strange going in their music just beneath the surface, people were fascinated by what they were all about. But the fact that they live in Scotland has far more to do with their lack of involvement in the still remarkably London-centric UK music scene than any kind of Howard Hughes-type elusiveness.

On their new EP, "In A Beautiful Place In The Country," it is gratifying to hear that they have continued to strive for the perfect beat, because Boards Of Canada were an anomaly in the '90s electronica scene into which people tried to fit them, and it's still impossible to fit them into any kind of timeline of electronic music. They admit to liking late '80s and early '90s industrial electronic bands like Front 242, Consolidated and Meat Beat Manifesto, and then the Cocteau Twins and Siouxsie and the Banshees, but that's about as far as they go. As Eoin rightly says,
I don't really like singling people out as influences because it's too specific. I prefer to see all that as just branches coming off a completely chaotic, random tree, where some people are closer to each other than others.

Eoin's analogy with nature is one that constantly reappears when discussing Boards Of Canada's music. Much has been made of the strangely rural and organic sounds and images they create. In the countryside area surrounding Edinburgh, it is not uncommon to see a double rainbow appearing over the barrenly beautiful countryside, the image a visual analog to much of their music.

Eoin and Sandison fully admit that if they lived in a city it would be detrimental to their work, and you can see how a more structured environment would hem the natural ebb and flow of ideas and sounds that emerged from Music Has The Right To Children. On that album, sounds or loops or melodies would only be heard once in a track, and other tracks frequently only lasted for thirty tantalizing seconds, a simple melodic refrain, a ghostly beat, or a plaintive note, disappearing as quickly as it appeared, taking on the presence of a fleeting memory-a cloud that momentarily takes a recognizable shape, or a captured snowflake that melts on your hand.

I think we are trying to do that more and more now,
says Sandison.
I like to think that where we are going is trying to compose totally horizontally. The vertical way of composing is the lazy way, where you just build stuff up and build stuff up, and then just bring them in and out. I think the way we work is so much more orchestrated, so that you can hear something that just happens, and you want it to carry on because it's so tantalizing, and you want to hear it again and again. We both understand the principle that if you put something beautiful into a piece of music just once, it makes people put the record back on because they want to hear it again.
Someone criticized me once,
recalls Eoin,
and asked why we'd made 'Roygbiv' so short. For us, that is exactly how long it should be. It's like that famous bit at the end of 'Strawberry Fields' by The Beatles, where you get the little voice at the end that says something like 'I buried Paul,' and it happens once, and it's such a transitory thing that's mixed in one ear really far away, but people went on and on about it for decades.
You know,
Sandison says,
if a contemporary producer, with that kind of '90s or 2000 mentality did something like that, it would be going 'bang, bang, bang, I buried Paul' over and over again all the way through it, and you would never want to hear it again. I really like putting things into songs that don't initially jump out at you, and you're not quite sure that you've actually heard it, like putting things really far away in the mix, so people are like, 'Am I imagining that, or is it just on my copy?'

It all adds fuel to the fire that there is something mysterious about their music. As sweet, and frankly, listenable as their melodic head music may be on the surface, you can't escape the feeling that still waters run deep, and that there are strong currents running beneath the surface. Indeed, although it's always asking for trouble by drawing the parallel, Boards Of Canada's work has far more in common with something like The Beatles' Sgt. Pepper than anything from the more recent past, as its unerring tunefulness and song craft masquerades and alludes to something far deeper.

Those allusions are there all the way through Music Has The Right To Children, particularly come the last track, "One Important Thought," which warns of the dangers of censorship, and leaves you wondering what you might have just listened to that could ever be censored, so sublime, relaxing and apparently innocent was the music. So you have to listen to it again with new ears. Although Eoin and Sandison are still struggling with the idea that a lot of people are going to hear this new record, unlike many an experimental producer, they want their music to be listenable, to be a pleasurable experience, but one in which, if you choose to delve deeper, the rewards are there to be had.

We've had that a lot with the new EP,
says Eoin.
People have said they liked it instantly, and that's kind of amusing because it's hitting the nail right on the head. For us the aim is to try and make something that you like instantly, but the important thing is actually the hidden mystery hypnotism that happens after ten listens.
Its almost like bait,
Sandison joins in.
You disguise a track as a nice big juicy worm, and then put a hook inside it! There is almost a critical point, a threshold, and if you get past that, then you are going to be completely immersed in what we are doing musically. We always assume that the listener is the most intelligent person imaginable. If you always think like that, you never insult the listener, and someone wanting to analyse what we do will always get something out of it.

As well as crediting the listener with intelligence, which, as Eoin later points out, so few electronic "dance" producers do, Boards Of Canada also credit us with an imagination. They leave space in their music for us to project our own ideas, images, and thoughts. Their messages are in there, but they are encrypted allusions hinting at what might lie within. It might explain why they are becoming so popular, because in a way each Boards' track becomes very personal to the individual listener, alluding to different things in different people's lives. I ask them about the often-mentioned nostalgia element in their music-people have constantly remarked how their music vaguely reminds them of something else, and how that differs from being retro.

Retro is a consensus isn't it?
says Eoin.
Like the '70s where everyone shares that popular myth of what the '70s were like. Nostalgia is very personal, and music is very powerful at recalling images or feelings from your past.
I do actually believe that there are powers in music that are almost supernatural. I think you actually manipulate people with music, and that is definitely what we are trying to do. People go on about hypnotizing people with music, or subliminal messages, and we have dabbled in that intentionally. Sometimes that's just a bit of a private joke, just to see what we can sneak into the tracks.
If we were to explain all the tracks and their meanings, though,
says Sandison,
I think it would ruin them for a lot of people. It's more like viewing something through the bottom of a murky glass, and that's the beauty of it.

And happily, after finally meeting them, Boards Of Canada's music remains as much of an enigma as it always has, because some myths and mysteries you don't really want to be explained away. Later on, Sandison goes on to talk about their music as a spiral or a fractal that gets more detailed the further you go in, and how they have experimented musically by using Fibonacci's Golden Ratio, a fraction close to two thirds that strangely occurs again and again in nature, and has allegedly been used in works of art by Da Vinci, Mozart and many others over the centuries, to space moments in tracks, write melodies and tune frequencies. And all of a sudden a friend's blithe request prior to the interview, to "find out what their magic ingredient is" begins to ring almost eerily true.

Whatever that ingredient may be, at the start of the 21st century, where, culturally and in terms of music, we are being increasingly discouraged from thinking for ourselves, where our attention is directed more than ever, where the gaps for our own imagination grow ever smaller, Boards Of Canada are an anomaly of timeless artistry that should be cherished. As Sandison says:
The original reason we started was just to make a beautiful little string of tunes which you just love playing in your car, and you don't really care whether anyone else is going to hear it, but I really like the idea of planting bombs. I'm not a bomber, but I like the idea of planting bombs of some kind, of doing things that in five, ten, or twenty years time will be able to reveal something about our music, that will make people completely re-examine what we've done, and see it in a completely different light.

Geogaddi era

Boc-wallpaper-05.jpg


The Colour & The Fire

title The Colour & The Fire
author Mark Pytlik
publication HMV.com
date 2002/02
issue
pages



"The Colour & The Fire" is an interview by Mark Pytlik originally published online Feb. 2002 on the HMV.com webiste.

This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.

The Colour & The Fire

As a corollary to Brian Eno's famous rumination on Velvet Underground's first record ("I think everyone who bought one of those 30,000 copies started a band"), it might be time to draw a link between Boards of Canada's seminal 1998 debut Music Has The Right To Children and the reams of nurturing, organic electronic music that have since followed. After a brief survey of the current experimental electronic music scene, it's difficult to make the case that many more are as influential as Boards of Canada. Perhaps more striking than the advent all this subterranean success is the way in which Marcus Eoin and Michael Sandison have arrived there. Even within comparatively anonymous electronic music circles, Boards of Canada are commonly regarded as nothing short of an enigma, an inscrutable pair who rarely disperse release information, grant interviews or perform live. It is generally accepted that the duo record from a secluded studio nestled somewhere in Scotland's Pentland Hills; we also know that they tend to litter their fiery, kaliedoscopic records with oblique references to various mathematical phenomena, the Branch Dividians and (as their name implies) snippets from the curiously gauzy soundtracks that accompany National Film Board Of Canada documentaries circa 1970.

What follows is the unabridged transcript of a one-pass e-mail interview we recently conducted with Eoin and Sandison, where the refreshingly articulate pair gave us their thoughts on the state of electronic music, eBay bidders, their long-awaited Geogaddi and "cosseted suburban American internet music-pirating kids." Naturally, the honour was all ours:

Geogaddi was one of the most highly anticipated electronic records in recent memory. Be honest: were you aware of the pressure?
Mike: We try not to pay attention to it. I think the best music we've made previously was written when there were no expectations on us. So now we just imagine nobody's going to hear it. The moment you start thinking about people waiting for your music, that's when you start damaging your creativity.
With Music Had The Right To Children, you had the luxury of plucking and/or reworking songs from previous, lesser-heard records. With Geogaddi, you were faced with the prospect of having to fashion a new record from scratch. Did this pose a problem at all?
Mike: Not at all because we recorded a hell of a lot of tracks in that period. The only difficult part was selecting them down to the tracks that worked well together on the record.
From a stylistic standpoint, there has been a consistency to Boards of Canada's work over the years. The conscious inclusion of certain signature elements (samples of children's voices, specific analog synth sounds, etc.) on Geogaddi implies that you went into this record with the intent to further build on your own established identity as artists. Is that a fair assumption? Is this a difficult thing to do without seeming regressive?
Marcus: I don't think it's as studied as that. We didn't consciously try to use signature sounds, because that's just the way we've always made our music. But I suppose maybe deep down we did want to reinforce the sound of the last album, because it has ended up sounding quite consistent with it. It kind of acts like a partner record to the last one before we do what we do next.
How do you respond to people who suggest that you didn't explore enough new territory with this record?
Mike: Well that's up to them. It's not meant to be a record that everyone will like. We didn't feel any need to change after only one previous album. It's our sound!...We love our music and we only expect a few people to click with it like we do. We see Boards of Canada as being as much about what we don't do as what we do, if you see what I mean. We're used to recording a lot of different music that never gets released. I guess we wanted to make Geogaddi sound the way it does so that we can go off at tangents on future records whilst keeping that sound as the foundation.
geo- or ge-: Earth: geocentric. gaddi n : a cushion on a throne for a prince in India; I'm not close at all, am I?
Marcus: Hehe, no. It can have several meanings. We have our own definite idea of it, a combination of words that describe an idea we had at the time of writing it, but we want listeners to make their own minds up.
The general consensus seems to be that Boards of Canada labour over their work. Is your creative process really as difficult as it seems to the outside world?
Mike: Not especially. We write lots of tracks simultaneously, I mean hundreds, that's what uses up our time. We're a lot more prolific than we let on. In the time between the last two albums we sketched out something approaching four hundred tracks, that's enough to put together several records. Some of the tracks on Geogaddi took quite a while to put together, maybe a few months, but there were also one or two tracks recorded in a day.
Can you recall one standout moment during the process of recording this record that was completely fulfilling from a creative standpoint?
Marcus: Yeah for me it would be the track Gyroscope. I dreamed the sound of it, and although I've recreated dreamt songs before, I managed to do that one so quickly that the end result was 99% like my dream. It spooks me to listen to it now.
Mike: We played out an early version of the album to some friends at a beach bonfire back at the end of last year before it was cut. It was a great night and now when I listen to those tracks I think about that night. That's how music should be.
The pre-release security on Geogaddi was incredibly high. Have the Internet and its various file-sharing utilities taken the glory out of proper release days?
Marcus: To an extent, yeah. There's been a lot of debate about whether the internet is helping bands like us or not. I think it's actually different depending on the style of music. In our case, I realize that bands who use a lot of electronics maybe attract a fairly web-literate audience so we're maybe more at risk of piracy than average rock bands. When our last EP was released, a journalist leaked it onto the internet many weeks before it's release date, and I think it does spoil the fun a bit. When I was a kid I used to get a buzz out of that 'day of release' thing, you know when you dive into the record shop at 9am to get an album. The world's gone a bit weird lately, everyone's attention span is so short, people don't seem to get excited about things as much anymore.
Like many of your contemporaries, you've gone to great lengths to maintain a certain degree of anonymity. Is music tangibly better when it's faceless?
Mike: We don't crave publicity. I suppose it can go too far, you know, sometimes these faceless bands are only like that because they don't have personalities in the first place. I think in a lot of pop and rock there's nothing wrong with a bit of glamour and personality because it's all fun, and it inspires people. But I think that with largely instrumental electronic music like ours, it just seems to sound better when you're not thinking about the people behind it.
Your reticence to talk to media outlets has resulted in a lot of conjecture about your origin and day-to-day lives. What's the most popular misconception about Boards of Canada? Do you enjoy the mystery?
Marcus: There are tons of misconceptions about us, but it just makes us laugh. Some of the most common ones are based on complete misunderstandings of what we're about, and people missing our sense of reference and irony. Another popular misconception, particularly amongst cosseted suburban American internet music-pirating kids, is that bands like us are making a lot of money. Those kids are probably getting more pocket money.
You've probably had this one many times, but I'd be remiss for not asking. Radiohead name-dropped you on numerous occasions during the Kid A/Amnesiac rigamarole. Were you honoured, irritated or somewhere in between?
Mike: It's great... I'd have to admit that neither of us were fans of their early stuff, but their last couple of releases are great records. I think they come across as some of the most decent people in music. They got so much flak just for having the balls to do something different.
How different would your music really be if you were creating it from the belly of some urban, metropolitan area? Is isolation always good for the creative process?
Marcus: We don't hate the city, just the homogenized culture you get in urban areas. I think for musicians, being isolated away from certain scenes can keep you focused doing your own thing.
The sounds on this record imply a particularly high level of craftsmanship. How long do you spend programming synths and toying with samples to achieve the BOC sound?
Marcus: A long long time. Usually I start with a sound that is half way towards what I want it to be, and I can spend days tweaking it until it's right. A lot of the synthetic-sounding things you hear are actually recordings of us playing other instruments, pianos, flutes or twanging guitar strings or field sounds we get from walking around with portable tape recorders, like electronic beeps in shops, or vehicles, then they are mangled beyond recognition. We have an arsenal of old hi-fi tricks up our sleeves and we basically destroy the sounds until they're really lovely and fucked up. So we're using sounds that are totally our own thing.
Which do you hear quoted back to you more frequently: "Orange!" or "Yeeeeeah, that's right!" (Two vocal samples featured prominently in BOC's landmark track 'Aquarius.')
Mike: 'Orange', definitely.
I realize you're not about to go in-depth about your setup, but in general terms: what does your working environment look like? Do you get these sounds with modern gear or older, analog equipment? How big a role do computers play?
Mike: It's a mix of old and new technology. About half of our kit is old gnarly broken gear, and the other half is pretty new stuff. We have a lot of cheap instruments, it's like a junkshop. The best way I'd describe it is that our sound sources are almost always something like a real instrument or an analog synth, and our recording techniques and processes are a bit unorthodox. We don't like using digital things or computer effects so we get sounds by doing things like running whole parts through a really bad tape recorder or something like that. Like the intro on 'Julie and Candy' for example, we just played the melody on a couple of whistles and then we bounced it back and forward between the internal mics of two tape-decks until the sound started disappearing into hell. Like when you look at an image reflected within two mirrors forever, in the distance it gets darker and greener and murkier. We record a lot of live stuff, just for fun, most of what we record hasn't been released. We tend to break equipment frequently. We'd probably make professional studio engineers weep if they saw us working. And some of our electronic tracks are not sequenced, we just put them down as samples onto multi-track tape, because it can sound more real and characteristic. We use a hardware sequencer for arranging but it has incredible glitches at the end of every pattern of music, which is interesting up to a point. We usually only use computers for accurate sequencing now, you know, German timing.
Your music is often described as a playground for the drug-addled mind. Surely you're not thinking along these lines when you're creating it...
Mike: No, not really. I like to think of the music as being the drug. People shouldn't have to take drugs to enjoy music.
There's a restraint to your compositions that is often absent from contemporary electronic music. Does that reflect your faith in the listener?
Marcus: I think it's a lot to do with why we write our music. We're not trying to get people to dance or anything. I want it to be listened to, and part of that is respecting the listener's intelligence, to know that they will notice the little things you put in there, you don't have to surround ideas in explosions and neon lights.
Are you satisfied with the general state of electronic music at the moment? Doesn't it seem like there are a lot of artists running around in circles?
Marcus: I've heard some incredible new music in the last couple of years, people really breaking the rules of what's gone before. It's in my nature to lean towards the artists who are mixing organic with electronic, I think that's where the most interesting music lies. But you're right about people going in circles, we get sent a lot of music to our postal box, and I try to listen to as much of it as possible. I've noticed that it falls into two camps, a small amount is really original stuff that's beautiful, like Aspera, and the Anticon stuff, but a lot of the other music going about is just samey laptop clicky tracks.
Imitation. The sincerest form of flattery or hard evidence of creative bankruptcy?
Mike: I'd guess it's a bit of both, I mean all musicians have to start somewhere and usually they're inspired to write music because of someone else's music that they love.
Somebody somewhere once said that the best electronic music is music that you could never quite imagine on your own; yours seems to fall distinctly in that territory. Are you aware as to how strangely your music seems to co-exist with the subconscious?
Mike: I don't know if we hear it quite the way the listener does. For us the whole point of writing music is to get something infectious into the back of the listener's mind, something that feels so personal to you that you couldn't even possibly convey it in words to a close friend. I find personally that I only really enjoy music if it has that effect on me, so it's a challenge for me to write tunes that do that for other people. If you listen to a tune by some musician and it really gets to you emotionally, it's as though for a few minutes you've tuned into the feelings that were in the musician's head. There's a sort of knowing connection there between the listener and the musician that ordinary language would never be able to achieve. In a way it's like the closest you'll ever get to being psychic.
(Early release) Twoism was going for 600 pounds on eBay! Discuss.
Marcus: Some people have clearly got too much money on their hands.
And so where do you go from here? Another four years 'til the next one? Any North American shows lined up?
Mike: The next album will be a lot sooner.There aren't any live dates planned at the moment, because we're already working on new records.

Interview by Mark Pytlik, February 2002.


The Secret Life of Boards of Canada

title The Secret Life of Boards of Canada
author John Mulvey
publication NME
date 2002/02/23
issue 23 February 2002
pages 24,53



"The Secret Life of Boards of Canada" is an interview by John Mulvey originally published Feb. 23 2002 in NME magazine.

This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.

The Secret Life of Boards of Canada

From the Pentland Hills, just south of Edinburgh, it's possible to examine the world at a different angle. Nature becomes reduced to a pattern of hexagons. Melodies sound better in reverse. Bonfires make for better nights out than clubs. And the colour of the universe is, unequivocally, turquoise. This is where Boards Of Canada, Britain's most exceptional and reclusive electronica group, see things from. Or, at least, how they may see things. In comparison, the Aphex Twin is an open book, as straightforward in art and life as Fran Healy. A trawl of the internet for facts about the Boards duo of Michael Sandison and Marcus Eoin turns up a proliferation of witchy rumours but precious few hard facts. They record in a disused nuclear bunker, it's suggested. They belong to some defiantly obscure art-collective-cum-cult named Turquoise Hexagon Sun. They fill their music with backwards messages, alternately sinister and playful, that range from invocations to a "horned god" (one old side project was named Hell Interface) to samples of ELO's Jeff Lynne. In the Boards of Canada section of the Warp Records website, alongside cover images and a few scant details about release dates, is a link to a Guardian news story which offers conclusive proof the average colour of the universe is "A greenish hue halfway between aquamarine and turquoise" when all visible light is mixed together.

All very intriguing, of course. But when BOC have made one of the most anxiously anticipated albums in years, hardly satisfying. To date, Sandison and Eoin have made a tremendous amount of music, most of which has neither ever been released or else is long unavailable; their 1996 debut EP for the Skam label, "Twoism", is currently available for a tidy ÂŁ710 on eBay. For most people, their reputation rests on 'Music Has The Right To Children', the 1998 album that mixed spectral, quasi-ambient melodies and dulled hip-hop beats with the constant chatter of infants, hovering tantalisingly beyond comprehension. Deceptively simplistic, there was something about the way the melodies twisted backwards and forwards around each other, about the tangibly creepy atmosphere that pervaded it, that made for an extraordinary debut. By the time 'In A Beautiful Place Out In The Country' an uncommonly beautiful EP, was released at the end of 2000, the band enjoyed a near-holy status among electronica fans - not to mention artists, plenty of whom had diligently adapted BOC's spooked, rustic kindergarten vibes for themselves. And when the long-promised second album, 'Geogaddi', unexpectedly appeared on release schedules a month ago, the grassroots hype became phenomenal.

Knowing that part of the band's allure is their inaccessibility, Warp embarked on a campaign to make hearing 'Geogaddi' as difficult as possible. Virtually no new music made it onto the internet: download apparently new tracks from Audiogalaxy and you're as likely to discover an ambient fake, four minutes of looped speech samples or an old Brian Eno tune. The track titles, meanwhile, could only be located on HMV's Japanese site. Eventually, 'Geogaddi' was premiered in six churches around the world - in London, New York, Edinburgh, Tokyo, Berlin and Paris. Slides of children playing, of sunsets where the sky is bent into a hexagon, were projected above the altars. Small turquoise hexagons took the place of hymn books.

And then there was the album: 66 minutes and six seconds of music that is both soothing and disorienting, lushly beautiful yet creaky and unnerving. One track, 'Opening The Mouth', sounds like a heavy-breathing call from a banshee. Another, the truly horrible 'The Devil Is In The Details', alternates between the instructions on a relaxation tape and a desperately crying child. There are ghostly organs and distant tablas, warnings of volcanic explosions, an ecstatic vocal about "1969 in the sunshine" and an overall feeling that this heady, saturated music is how My Bloody Valentine might've sounded had they released anything after 1991's 'Loveless'. Honestly, it's that good.

We take that as a real compliment,
accepts Sandison.
We love the sound of music that seems to be barely under control. We love music that's out of tune in a beautiful way, or dissonant, or damaged. We tried to make the record work as a giddy, swirling soundtrack. It's okay to be imperfect - in fact the imperfections are where the magic is. To us, perfect music sounds sterile and dead. The tunes we write are imperfect, the sounds are imperfect, even the artwork. I can't listen to perfect music, it bores me. We actually put a lot of effort into making things rough and difficult and noisy, even more so on this than on the last album. I think most bands get more polished and over-produced as they go along. But one of the ideas with 'Geogaddi' was to go the opposite way, to get it to sound as though it was recorded before the last one.

Early February 2002, and Boards Of Canada have consented to a rare interview with NME, on the understanding it runs after the album's release. To preserve their privacy, it's to be conducted by email, but the resulting answers still shed a little light on the world of Sandison and Eoin, without ever completely dismantling their mystique.

To begin, their name derives from the National Film Board Of Canada, whose nature documentaries enraptured the Scottish-born pair when they spent some time living in Calgary as children.
My parents worked in the construction industry out there,
writes Sandison.
My memory of Calgary is a picture of boxy 1970s office blocks dumped in the middle of nowhere against a permanent sunset.
They started making tapes around 1982 or '83, when they were still children. At their Hexagon Sun studio, there's an archive of 20 years of music.
We're a bit anal about this,
admits Eoin,
and I guess one year we might hunt through it all and release some of it. Though we've actually already got the next album half-finished, which will surprise some people to hear. There's a lot of music.
Though the paucity of their released might suggest otherwise, Sandison and Eoin are anything but lazy.
A typical day for us,
writes Eoin,
is something like 15 hours thumping the shit out of drums and synthesizers and samplers, with frequent breaks for coffee or a beer.
Expectations and pressures from the outside world hardly make an impact, either.
We're too busy to give a shit,
reckons Sandison.
Either working in our studio or being out in the fresh air with our friends somewhere. We put pressure on ourselves more than anything. Marcus and myself are pretty ruthless to one another, musically. That's the toughest criticism we get, which is another reason the album took a long time.
Why is it so much better to live in the country rather than the city?
Mike: I don't think it's easy to be truly independent as an artist at the same time as being part of an urban community. I'm not saying it's impossible, but it just doesn't suit us. Besides, when I'm faced with the choice of hanging out with my friends round a bonfire where we live, or being squashed in a London tube with some suit's elbow in my face, it's an easy choice to make.
What's the significance of hexagons to you?
Marcus: The hexagon theme represents that whole idea of being able to see reality for what it is, the raw maths or patterns that make everything. We've always been interested in science and maths. Sometimes music or art or drugs can pull back the curtain for you and reveal the Wizard of Oz, so to speak, busy pushing the levers and pressing buttons. That's what maths is, the wizard. It sounds like nonsense but I'm sure a lot of people know what I'm talking about.
The turquoise hexagon sun idea, the ring of people on the 'Geogaddi' cover, and that slightly eerie bucolic feel there is in a lot of your music, suggests something cultish, vaguely pagan.
Mike: That's probably just a reflection of the way we live our lives. We are a bit ritualistic, although not religious at all. We're not really conscious of it in our music but I can see that it is happening. We're interested in symbols. I don't know, we never just make a pleasant tune and leave it at that, it would be pointless. So I suppose there is an intention to let the more adult, disturbed, atrocious sides of our imaginations slip into view through the pretty tunes.
What's the fascination with children's voices? Is it to do with a nostalgia for childhood?
Mike: It's something that has a peculiar effect in music, it ought not to be there, especially in atonal, synthetic music. It's completely out of place, and yet in that context that you can really feel the sadness of a child's voice. Being a kid is such a transitory, fleeting part of your lifespan. If you have siblings, then if you think about it, you'll have known them as adults for a lot longer than you ever knew them as children. It's like a little kid lost, gone.
You've talked in the past about subliminal messages, hidden ideas, bombs planted in your tunes. What's the fascination, and what form do these take?
Marcus: If you're in a position where you're making recordings of music that thousands of people are going to listen to repeatedly, it gets you thinking, 'What can we do with this? We could experiment with this...' And so we do try to add elements that are more than just the music. Sometimes we just include voices to see if we can trigger ideas, and sometimes we even design tracks musically to follow rules that you just wouldn't pick up on consciously, but unconsciously, who knows? 'The Devil Is In The Details' has a riff that was designed to imitate a specific well-known equation, but in musical terms. Maybe it won't mean anything to anyone, but it's interesting just to try it. We do things like this sometimes.

One thing Boards Of Canada are emphatic about, for all the talk of bonfires and rural retreats, is that they're not hippies. We ask if they're a psychedelic band, and Marcus replies: "If you mean psychedelic in a scientific way, then, yeah, that's probably fair. But if you mean it in a lifestyle way, you know, hippy-large floppy hat, patchouli oil and colourful trousers way, then nothing could be further from who we are." Further from what, though? Tempt BOC into the open for a few moments and still, you can only make out the faintest of outlines. And ask them, finally, how important mystery and a lack of information is to their music, and they'll prove it by sidestepping the question. "We just try to keep ourselves to ourselves," concludes Marcus Eoin. "The music is what is important." Of course.

interview by by John Mulvery, February 2002.


Une Cabane Au Canada

title Une Cabane Au Canada
author Joseph Ghosn
publication Les Inrockuptibles
date 2002/02 (Feb/Mar)
issue 327
pages 20-23



"Une Cabane Au Canada" is an interview (in French) by Joseph Ghosn originally published Feb./Mar. 2002 in Les Inrockuptibles magazine, Issue 327, pg.20-23

This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.

Une Cabane Au Canada

Par Joseph Ghosn

Photo Peter Iain Campbell


Avec un premier album bucolique et enfantin, les Ecossais de Boards Of Canada inventaient un folk Ă©lectronique, dont l'influence rayonne aujourd'hui de Radiohead au hip-hop. Avec Geogaddi, le mystĂ©rieux duo livre un deuxiĂšme chef-d'Ɠuvre pastoral et inquiet.

Des ermites autistes, des paranoĂŻaques aigus enchaĂźnĂ©s Ă  leurs ordinateurs, des fous cloĂźtrĂ©s devant leurs machines... Les rumeurs les plus folles circulent sur Boards Of Canada depuis la sortie de leur premier album Music Has the Right ta Children, il y a cinq ans. Duo insondable, le groupe avait alors rĂ©ussi un coup de force rarement imitĂ©, vĂ©ritable OPA implicite sur la musique, de tout bord et de tout crin. Leur son, Ă©grenĂ© en une poignĂ©e de morceaux Ă©lectroniques, est parvenu, presque sournoisement, Ă  rĂ©concilier en un mĂȘme mouvement les activistes de toutes les tendances, les ayatollahs du rap, du rock et de l'electronica.

Au dĂ©part, pourtant, rien ne distinguait vraiment les Ecossais Marcus Eoin et Mike Sandison de leurs contemporains. Pour beaucoup, le duo n'Ă©tait qu'un clone supplĂ©mentaire d'un autre groupe Ă  l'aura presque mystique : Autechre. Les similitudes Ă©taient flagrantes : mĂȘme maison de disques (Warp), mĂȘme traitement sombre des ambiances musicales dĂ©lĂ©tĂšres, mĂȘme formation Ă  deux, faux couple uni devant les machines et passionnĂ© par la crĂ©ation d'univers parallĂšles, autant graphiques que musicaux. La similitude, pourtant, s'arrĂȘte lĂ . Autant la musique d'Autechre est pĂ©trie dans des paysages postindustriels violents, souvent arides et crevassĂ©s, autant celle de Boards Of Canada est empreinte de visions pastorales, quasi impressionnistes et oniriques.

Ecouter Boards Of Canada, c'est souvent se retrouver confrontĂ© Ă  un Ă©trange sentiment de familiaritĂ© lointaine, comme si le disque qui tourne Ă©tait composĂ© de bribes de souvenirs Ă©vanescents, d'Ă©tincelles de rĂ©miniscences. Boards Of Canada met en scĂšne une musique Ă©trangement pĂ©nĂ©trante, trĂšs diffuse et presque vĂ©nĂ©neuse. Un sentiment que renforce pleinement Geogaddi, attendu par beaucoup comme une sorte de messie Ă©lectronique, alors mĂȘme que l'Ă©poque semble mettre en berne la plupart des tentatives d'Ă©lectronique abstraite, trop isolationniste. Un travers qui aurait pu prĂ©cipiter Boards Of Canada au terminus des prĂ©tentieux : le duo trimballe une rĂ©putation peu enviĂ©e de hippies enfermĂ©s dans une communautĂ© perdue en Ecosse, vivant en vase clos, dans une ferme surprotĂ©gĂ©e de toute attaque physique ou virtuelle. Un havre devenu lĂ©gendaire chez tous les fans du groupe, qui ont bĂąti via le Net une incroyable mythologie autour du duo, devenu un emblĂšme malgrĂ© lui de la gĂ©nĂ©ration des hackers technoĂŻdes, obsĂ©dĂ©s par leurs ordinateurs.

La rĂ©alitĂ©, pourtant, est diffĂ©rente. Les deux membres de Boards Of Canada ne ressemblent en rien Ă  des hĂ©ros. Jeunes trentenaires que leurs photos montrent toujours habillĂ©s avec les mĂȘmes vieilles fringues — survĂȘtements Ă©limĂ©s, bonnet enfoncĂ© jusqu'aux oreilles —, ils semblent surtout soucieux d'Ă©viter les modes, de tuer dans l'Ɠuf toute catĂ©gorisation. Plus que tout, le groupe revendique pleinement son attachement Ă  sa musique et sa haine des compromis.

Mike Sandison : Je suis amoureux de la musique depuis toujours. Je me souviens que, tout petit dĂ©jĂ , je me tenais debout Ă  l'arriĂšre de la voiture de mes parents pour chanter des chansons Ă  tue-tĂȘte. Le premier disque dont je me souvienne, c'est le morceau Seasons in the Sun de Terry Jacks que j'Ă©coutais Ă  la radio. J'ai commencĂ© Ă  faire ma propre musique Ă  l'Ăąge de 5 ou 6 ans. Je suppliais mes parents de m'emmener chez mes grands-parents qui avaient un piano, et sur lequel j'improvisais des mĂ©lodies.

Pas étonnant que le plus vieux souvenir musical de Boards Of Canada soit Seasons in the Sun, cette reprise folk-rock d'un morceau de Jacques Brel, aux airs délétÚres rappelant étrangement les atmosphÚres nocturnes et la nostalgie rémanente qui sourd de la musique du duo. Une nostalgie toute pastorale, ainsi que l'explicitait déjà le titre d'un single sorti entre leurs deux albums, In a Beautiful Place out in the Country ("Dans un bel endroit à la campagne").

Marcus Eoin : Nous avons tous les deux vĂ©cu plus longtemps Ă  la campagne que dans des villes. Nous trouvons davantage d'inspiration Ă  la campagne. L'environnement urbain fait que les musiciens s'influencent les uns les autres, tout s'homogĂ©nĂ©ise — et les modes s'en mĂȘlent aussi. S'en Ă©loigner permet alors Ă  l'imagination de redevenir sauvage et de ne plus se soucier de l'avis d'autrui. La tranquillitĂ© de la campagne est similaire Ă  l'espace spirituel des rĂȘves.

RĂ©fugiĂ© en pleine campagne, le groupe ne rencontre que rarement les journalistes. Pour la sortie du nouvel album, il ne rĂ©pond d'ailleurs aux interviews que par e-mails. Cette mise Ă  distance, qui est commune Ă  plusieurs musiciens Ă©lectroniques, traduit-elle une timiditĂ© maladive, masquĂ©e par la pratique des machines ?

Nous avons simplement l'impression de mieux contrÎler ce que nous faisons si nous gardons tout le monde à une certaine distance. Nous ne sommes pas pour autant des ermites... Nous avons commencé à faire de la musique par amour, sans aucune volonté de devenir célÚbres ou de nous imposer par la force. Nous avons l'intention de continuer à faire de la musique pendant plusieurs années encore. Il est donc important que nous ne subissions pas trop de pressions. Tout comme il est et important que nous ne nous prenions jamais trop au sérieux. Malgré le succÚs, nous ne nous sommes jamais permis de changer de mode de vie. D'une certaine maniÚre, nous écrivons de meilleurs morceaux lorsque nous avons l'impression que personne ne va écouter le résultat. C'est le meilleur moyen de garder l'inspiration des premiers jours.

Les premiers jours... Boards Of Canada est nĂ© des cendres de l'indie-rock des annĂ©es 8o et de son chant du cygne : Loveless, le dernier album en date de My Bloody Valentine, qui mĂȘlait guitares Ă©thĂ©rĂ©es et beats salis, dans un dĂ©luge onirique et infernal de distorsion, d'Ă©chos psychĂ©dĂ©liques et de ritournelles organiques violĂ©es.

Nous faisions alors partie d'un groupe à guitares et nous enregistrions aussi des trucs électroniques pour différents projets. L'un de ces projets se nommait Boards Of Canada, d'aprÚs le National Film Board of Canada, dont on regardait les documentaires. La musique de ces films était en général faite avec des synthétiseurs et avait un son trÚs pourri, qui nous a beaucoup inspiré. Nous avons toujours été trÚs prolifiques et, à l'époque, tout ce qui nous importait, c'était de pouvoir distribuer notre musique, en cassette et gratuitement, à nos amis. Nous devions nous battre pour trouver un peu d'argent afin de financer cette passion et, pour ça, nous avions des boulots pourris.

La sortie de ces annĂ©es de vaches maigres se fait par le biais d'Autechre :

Nous avions enregistrĂ© un mini-album, Twoism, avec l'intention de l'envoyer Ă  nos groupes prĂ©fĂ©rĂ©s. On en a pressĂ© nous-mĂȘmes cent copies en vinyle et on a dĂ» en distribuer une cinquantaine. Une des copies a atterri chez Autechre ; l'un des membres nous a tĂ©lĂ©phonĂ© dĂšs le lendemain pour nous proposer de sortir un disque sur leur label, Skam. La maison de disques Warp nous a ensuite contactĂ©s et nous a demandĂ© de sortir notre premier album.

Aujourd'hui: une copie originale de Twoism, rarissime, peut coĂ»ter plus de mille euros : quelques veinards fortunĂ©s se les arrachent sur les sites de vente aux enchĂšres... Des prix prohibitifs qui traduisent l'aura du groupe, grandissante : de Radiohead Ă  Röyksopp, les beats maladifs, les effets psychĂ©dĂ©liques et les mĂ©lodies enfantines de Boards Of Canada semblent avoir contaminĂ© toutes les musiques.


<Le son de Boards Of Canada a contaminĂ© quelques-uns des plus beaux disques de ces derniĂšres annĂ©es : revue des victimes.

univers parallĂšles

L'influence de Boards Of Canada ne se mesure pas simplement aux chiffres de vente de leurs disques ou aux rares concerts du duo. Sans bruit, sans phĂ©nomĂšne de masse, le son de Boards Of Canada s'est pourtant infiltrĂ© dans un certain nombre de disques majeurs de ces derniĂšres annĂ©es. En premier lieu, on retrouve le Radiohead de Kid A et Amnesiac : les rythmes glacĂ©s de ces deux disques et leur atmosphĂšre polaire semblent prendre racine dans les compositions de Music Has the Right to Children. De mĂȘme, la BO composĂ©e par Air pour Vire Suicides correspond avec les hymnes de poche du duo anglais. Le hip-hop, aussi, semble avoir puisĂ© dans les interstices du duo : des groupes aussi novateurs que cLOUDDEAD ou Anti-Pop Consortium ont repris Ă  leur compte quelques leçons soniques de Boards Of Canada. Ils ont notamment exploitĂ© toute l'esthĂ©tique crade et dĂ©gradĂ©e de leur son : une patine qui tranche avec le reste de la production du genre, souvent trĂšs propre sur elle. Enfin, Melody A.M. des NorvĂ©giens de Röyksopp navigue dans les mĂȘmes eaux que Boards Of Canada, tandis qu'un groupe comme Bola (signĂ© sur Skam, premier label de Boards Of Canada) pousse les leçons du duo dans leurs retranchements les plus noirs, les plus mĂ©lancoliques et remplis de bile, notamment dans le rĂ©cent et trĂšs attachant Fyuti. Signalons Ă©galement parmi les disciples les plus flagrants (et douĂ©s) Telefon Tel Aviv, EU, Manitoba, Gorodisch, Pilote ou Savath & Savalas... Boards Of Canada cultive Ă  cet Ă©gard une modestie distanciĂ©e :

C'est trĂšs flatteur... Nous n'avons pas vraiment d'idĂ©e arrĂȘtĂ©e sur ces histoires-lĂ . Mais si nous avons inspirĂ© qui que ce soit, alors tant mieux.

J. G.>


L'influence de Boards of Canada passe sans doute par une approche de la composition qui tranche avec les idiomes de la musique Ă©lectronique, plutĂŽt portĂ©e vers des morceaux assemblĂ©s par superposition de couches sonores. Boards of Canada, au contraire, semble chĂ©rir une approche classique : leurs morceaux sont d'abord des chansons, dans lesquelles on reconnaĂźt des refrains, des ponts, des couplets. Mais le duo remplace les instruments traditionnels par des synthĂ©tiseurs et des boĂźtes Ă  rythmes et le chant par des Ă©chos de voix d'enfant, dĂ©formĂ©es et triturĂ©es par tous les cĂŽtĂ©s.

Nous avons passĂ© des annĂ©es Ă  faire de la musique dans des groupes "classiques", avec guitare, batterie et chanteur. Nous n'avons jamais Ă©tĂ© DJ et nous ne sommes pas venus Ă  l'Ă©lectronique via les ordinateurs. Au milieu des annĂ©es 80, nous faisions de la musique Ă©lectronique sans sĂ©quenceurs : tout Ă©tait fait manuellement. Nous Ă©crivons d'ailleurs toujours de cette maniĂšre-lĂ .

C'est cette approche de la composition, hĂ©ritĂ©e du rock ou de la pop, qui anime la musique du duo. Une musique qui se rĂ©vĂšle, sur Geogaddi, encore plus amochĂ©e et cabossĂ©e qu'Ă  l'accoutumĂ©e. Les morceaux, jamais aseptisĂ©s, sont remplis de sautes, d'arrĂȘts, de voiles et de bosses. L'album, au final, est d'une beautĂ© sourde, peuplĂ© par des fantĂŽmes et des spectres mal en point.

Nous dĂ©truisons le son. La plupart des gens passent des heures Ă  essayer de polir leur son et l'amĂ©liorer, tandis que nous utilisons de vieilles machines et des bandes analogiques pour dĂ©grader le son, l'endommager et lui donner une patine. Les sons crades ajoutent une dimension qui fait songer Ă  des temps anciens ou imaginaires. Ça donne une sorte de chaos contrĂŽlĂ©, toujours sur le fil, menaçant de s'effondrer, tout comme les meilleurs disques du passĂ©, bien avant que les ordinateurs lavent et stĂ©rilisent la musique, la rendent froide et clinique.

En Ă©coutant Geogaddi, en regardant les visuels dĂ©formĂ©s de la pochette, on a l'impression de tenir un groupe imaginaire, sans substance humaine. Comme si ces morceaux-lĂ  Ă©taient fabriquĂ©s Ă  partir d'une matiĂšre intangible, comme un collage de matĂ©riaux hĂ©tĂ©roclites, venus de civilisations perdues, cristallisĂ©s dans des coulĂ©es de lave. Les voix de gosses, les extraits de messages informatifs, qui naviguent entre les beats lents, concourent Ă  crĂ©er une musique funky et trĂšs cĂ©rĂ©brale, qui fait songer Ă  du Sly Stone dĂ©formĂ© par les synthĂ©tiseurs de Brian Eno. Une confrĂ©rie de rĂȘve qui rassemble, sur un mĂȘme disque, les meilleurs artisans musicaux.

Le duo cherche d'ailleurs, avant tout, à décloisonner sa musique, à induire son auditeur en erreur, à lui indiquer de fausses pistes.

Inclure des discours de type administratif dans notre musique permet d'entretenir l'idée que l'on n'est pas en train d'écouter l'album d'un seul groupe, mais plutÎt un collage de plusieurs enregistrements, un peu comme si on zappait à travers les différentes stations d'une bande radio.

Boards Of Canada diffuse en direct de Mars. ‱


A Cabin in Canada

By Joseph Ghosn

Photo: Peter Iain Campbell


With a pastoral and childlike first album, the Scots of Boards Of Canada invented an electronic folk, whose influence shines today from Radiohead to hip-hop. With Geogaddi, the mysterious duo delivers a second pastoral and uneasy masterpiece. Autistic [Altruistic?] hermits, acute paranoids chained to their computers, fools cloistered in front of their machines ... The wildest rumors circulating on Boards Of Canada since the release of their first album Music Has the Right, five years ago . An impenetrable duo, the group had then managed a power grab rarely imitated, real OPA implied in the music, on all sides, unbridled. Their sound, ginned into a handful of electronic pieces, has managed, almost slyly, to reconcile in the same movement the activists of all tendencies, the ayatollahs of rap, rock and electronica.

Initially, however, nothing really distinguished the Scots Marcus Eoin and Mike Sandison from their contemporaries. For many, the duo was just another clone of another group with an almost mystical aura: Autechre. The similarities were obvious: same record company (Warp), same dark treatment of deleterious musical moods, same duo formation, false pair united in front of machines and passionate by the creation of parallel universes, as graphic as it is musical. The similarity, however, stops there. As much as Autechre's music is steeped in post-industrial and violent landscapes, often arid and crevassed, Boards Of Canada is marked by pastoral, quasi-impressionistic and dreamlike visions.

To listen to Boards Of Canada is often to be confronted with a strange feeling of distant familiarity, as if the record that was playing was composed of fragments of evanescent memories, sparks of reminiscences. Boards Of Canada features a strangely penetrating music, very diffuse and almost poisonous. A feeling that fully reinforces Geogaddi, expected by many as a kind of electronic messiah, even though that the time seems to put down most attempts at abstract electronics, too isolationist. A trick that could have precipitated Boards Of Canada at the terminus of the pretentious: the duo lugs an unmissable reputation of hippies locked in a community lost in Scotland, living in isolation, in a farm overprotected from any physical or virtual attack. A haven that has become legendary among all fans of the group, who have built via the Net an incredible mythology around the duo, which has become a symbol of the technoid hackers generation, obsessed by their computers.

The reality, however, is different. The two members of Boards Of Canada are nothing like heroes. Young in their thirties, their pictures always show them dressed with the same old clothes - tracksuits, cap pressed to the ears -, they seem especially anxious to avoid the fads, to nip in the bud any categorization. More than anything, the group fully claims their attachment to the music and their hatred of compromises.

Mike Sandison: I've been in love with music since I was a baby, it's very hard to remember a specific time. I can remember when I was a toddler standing up on the back seat of my parent's car singing songs at the top of my voice. The earliest record I can remember hearing on the radio was Terry Jacks' version of 'Seasons in the Sun', which was in the charts at the time. I started to make my own music when I was about 5 or 6 years old, because my grandparents had a piano and I used to beg my parents to let me go there to play it. I didn't do formal lessons at that time, so I just made tunes up.

No wonder the oldest musical memory of Boards Of Canada is Seasons in the Sun, this folk-rock reprise of Jacques Brel's piece, with deleterious melodies strangely reminiscent of nocturnal atmospheres and the lingering nostalgia of the duo's music.. A pastoral nostalgia, as already clarified by the title "In a Beautiful Place out in the Country", an EP released between their two albums.

Marcus Eoin: " We've both spent most of our lives in the country, although we've both also had periods of our lives living in cities too. We get more ideas for our music and art when we're in the countryside. It's not easy to explain. We think it's because being in the city tends to make musicians influence each other, and fashions and so on get mingled. You can't avoid being homogenized in the city. But when you're away from it you can let your imagination run wild and you don't stop for a minute to worry about what other people are going to think of your work. The peace we get in the countryside is analogous to having space in your head to dream.

Sheltered in the countryside, the group rarely meets journalists. For the release of the new album, they only respond to interviews by e-mail. Does keeping this kind of distance, common to several electronic musicians, translate to an unhealthy shyness, masked by the practice of machines?

We just feel more in control of what we're doing if we keep everyone away from us. We're not really hermits... We got involved with music years ago because we love the music, we've never had any desire to become famous or to push ourselves on people. We love doing what we do, and we intend to carry on making music for many years, so it's important that we keep it at a level where we don't feel that it is putting too much pressure on our lives. It's also important to us not to take it all too seriously. We've not allowed ourselves or our lives to change at all since the band became better known. It's much better this way. Somehow we write much better music when we don't imagine anyone hearing it. I'm not sure why this works but it does. It's cool because we keep ourselves inspired just like the early days when nobody had ever heard our music.

The first days ... Boards Of Canada was born from the ashes of 80s indie-rock and its swan song: Loveless, the last album of My Bloody Valentine, which mixed ethereal guitars and dirty beats, in a dreamlike and infernal flood of distortion, psychedelic echoes and breached organic refrains.

We were using a few different names for our projects, as we had a live band with guitars, as well as recording electronic things as side projects. One of the projects was Boards of Canada, named after the National Film Board of Canada, because we used to watch the documentaries made by the National Film Board and the music was usually synth-based and had a distinctive 'damaged' quality. I think perhaps the tapes they mastered the soundtracks on were poor quality, and the music had drop-outs and 'wow and flutter', which inspired our sound. We've always been quite prolific and back then all that mattered to us was to give all our friends copies of our music, so we started making up tapes and packaging them, and circulating them. It was just for the love of it so we never asked anyone to pay for them. We were struggling to raise cash to do it so we worked in crappy day-jobs.

The exit of those lean years was through Autechre:

We recorded a sort of mini-album called 'Twoism', for the first time with the intention of sending them to bands we liked. We got 100 copies pressed on vinyl with our own cash. I think we only gave away about 50 copies in the end, to a few bands and friends and so on. One of the copies went to Autechre, and Sean Booth called us up the day after we sent it, and asked us to do a record with their label Skam, which they were involved with. Then Warp called us up, and asked us to release our first album with them

Today: an original copy of Twoism, extremely rare, can cost more than a thousand euros: a lucky and wealthy few get them from auction sites ... inflated prices that reflect the aura of the group, growing: from Radiohead to Röyksopp, Boards Of Canada's sickly beats, psychedelic effects and child-like melodies seem to have contaminated all music.

<The sound of Boards Of Canada has contaminated some of the most beautiful records of recent years: review of victims.

Parallel Universes

The influence of Boards Of Canada can not be measured simply by their record sale figures or the rare concerts of the duo. No noise, no mass phenomenon, the sound of Boards Of Canada has yet infiltrated a number of major records of recent years. First, we find Radiohead by Kid A and Amnesiac: the frozen rhythms of these two discs and their polar atmosphere seem to take root in the compositions of Music Has the Right to Children. Similarly, the soundtrack composed by Air for The Virgin Suicides matches with the English duo's pocket anthems. . Hip-hop, too, seems to have tapped into the interstices of the duo: groups as innovative as cLOUDDEAD or Anti-Pop Consortium have taken over a few sonic lessons from Boards Of Canada. They particularly exploited all the aesthetics dirty and degraded their sound: a patina that contrasts with the rest of the production of the genre, often very clean. Finally, Norwegian Röyksopp Melody AM sails in the same waters as Boards Of Canada, while a band like Bola (signed on Skam, Boards Of Canada's first label) pushes the duo's lessons into their darkest more melancholic and full of bile, especially in the recent and very endearing Fyuti. Also among the most egregious (and gifted) Telefon Tel Aviv, EU, Manitoba, Gorodisch, Pilote or Savath & Savalas ... Boards Of Canada cultivates a modesty in this respect:

It's very flattering ... We do not really have any idea about these stories, but if we inspired anyone, so much the better.

J. G.>


The influence of Boards of Canada undoubtedly depends on an approach to composition that contrasts with the idioms of electronic music, rather focused on pieces assembled by superposition of sound layers. Boards of Canada, on the other hand, seems to cherish a classical approach: their songs are at first songs, in which we recognize choruses, bridges, couplets. But the duo replaces the traditional instruments with synthesizers and drum machines and singing with echoes of children's voices, distorted and triturated by all sides.

We spent years playing music in the 'standard band format' of drums guitars and voices. We were never DJ's or whatever, and we didn't come to electronic music from the computer side of things. When we first got into electronics in the mid-1980's we would record all the parts by hand, we didn't have sequencers. So it makes sense that we still write in that way nowadays.

It is this approach to composition, inherited from rock or pop, that drives the music of the duo. A music that is revealed on Geogaddi, even more damaged and battered than usual. The tracks, never sanitized, are filled with swings, stops, sails and bumps. The album, in the end, is of a dull beauty, populated by ghosts and troubled spectra.

We just destroy the sound. Most people spend ages trying to polish the sound and improve it, but we use tapes and old gear and analogue synths to downgrade the sound and make it more damaged, to sound older. The damaged sound adds a character that you can associate with an imaginary and distant time or place. It's like a barely controlled chaos, it's always on edge, threatening to fall apart, just like the best music of the past, before everyone started using computers to sanitize and sterilize music in a cold and clinical way.

Listening to Geogaddi, looking at the distorted visuals on the cover, one has the impression of holding an imaginary group, without human substance. As if these pieces were made from an intangible material, like a collage of heterogeneous materials, from lost civilizations, crystallized in lava flows. Kids' voices, informative message excerpts, which navigate between slow beats, combine to create funky, cerebral music, reminiscent of Sly Stone distorted by Brian Eno's synthesizers. A dream brotherhood that brings together, on the same record, the best musical craftsmen. The duo seeks, above all, to de-compartmentalize their music, to mislead the listener, to point out red herrings.

Another reason for the inclusion of those tracks is just the aesthetic of them, I mean we believe in the statements, but we also want to include things like that just because they evoke a certain type of Governmental public-awareness broadcast. It adds to the idea that you're not actually listening to an album by one band, but in fact a collage of different recordings, a bit like tuning between stations on a shortwave radio.

Boards Of Canada broadcasts live from Mars.


Source: J Ghosn's retrieved Feb 2008 [8] [9]


Subscript text: quoted in "Un Cabane Au Canada" 2002 Feb/Mar


Une interview de Boards of Canada, réalisée par email au moment de l'album Geogaddi. J'ai gardé la version originale, comme au cinéma, mais j'ai oublié de sous-titrer. bonne lecture et décryptage.


What are your earliest musical memories ?
Mike: I remember annoying my family by playing tunes on my grandparents' piano all day. I had a mostly happy childhood, always getting into trouble, which is probably a good way to learn about the world. I remember when I was very little playing in a park and an older girl told me that worms were born inside the veins on the leaves on trees, and I believed her.

I've been in love with music since I was a baby, it's very hard to remember a specific time. I can remember when I was a toddler standing up on the back seat of my parent's car singing songs at the top of my voice. The earliest record I can remember hearing on the radio was Terry Jacks' version of 'Seasons in the Sun', which was in the charts at the time.

I started to make my own music when I was about 5 or 6 years old, because my grandparents had a piano and I used to beg my parents to let me go there to play it. I didn't do formal lessons at that time, so I just made tunes up.


How did you start BOC ?
Marcus: About twelve years ago we were using a few different names for our projects, as we had a live band with guitars, as well as recording electronic things as side projects. One of the projects was Boards of Canada, named after the National Film Board of Canada, because we used to watch the documentaries made by the National Film Board and the music was usually synth-based and had a distinctive 'damaged' quality. I think perhaps the tapes they mastered the soundtracks on were poor quality, and the music had drop-outs and 'wow and flutter', which inspired our sound.
Marcus: We've always been quite prolific and back then all that mattered to us was to give all our friends copies of our music, so we started making up tapes and packaging them, and circulating them. It was just for the love of it so we never asked anyone to pay for them. We were struggling to raise cash to do it so we worked in crappy day-jobs. We started to set up our studio and it meant we needed to somehow get our music out to more people so we could fund what we do. It was mostly a fun time but we had some very tough years. In 1993 we all suffered and had a terrible year for various personal reasons, and everything nearly went down the drain. But somehow we kept on with recording and playing local gigs and things got a lot better. We recorded a sort of mini-album called 'Twoism', for the first time with the intention of sending them to bands we liked. We got 100 copies pressed on vinyl with our own cash. I think we only gave away about 50 copies in the end, to a few bands and friends and so on. One of the copies went to Autechre, and Sean Booth called us up the day after we sent it, and asked us to do a record with Skam, which they were involved with. Then we made an EP with Skam, and then Warp called us up, and we decided to make an album to be released jointly by both labels, in 1998, which turned into 'Music Has the Right to Children'.


Are you workaholics ?
Mike: Yes I'd say we are. I suffer from insomnia too which doesn't help. We spend a hell of a lot of our time writing music, and only a small amount of what we record gets released.
Marcus: We usually work on tracks in parallel, several at once. Some of the tracks on 'Geogaddi' were started in 1999 then re-visited later and finished in 2001. Some of the tracks on 'Music Has the Right
' were recorded two years before it was released. We sometimes work intensively on one track for about a month or so. An average day when we're in the studio is something like 15 hours of work. We often go for about a week doing that, and then we just snap and have to get out before we kill ourselves.


How do you compose your tracks ? Is there a method ?
Mike: I find it very easy to write tracks. I write tunes all the time. I have music playing in my head all the time. I think it's a part of the reason for my insomnia. I'll run out of life long before I run out of music.
Why do you avoid most public appearances ?
Marcus: Ha, we're not particularly shy
 We just feel more in control of what we're doing if we keep everyone away from us. We're not really hermits as some people seem to think. We have a lot of friends and we do a lot of other things besides this music. We got involved with music years ago because we love the music, we've never had any desire to become famous or to push ourselves on people. We love doing what we do, and we intend to carry on making music for many years, so it's important that we keep it at a level where we don't feel that it is putting too much pressure on our lives. It's also important to us not to take it all too seriously.
Mike: To some extent, we believe that getting well known for your music is a toxic thing for the band. People start to feel that they own you and your music, and they get very particular about what they want you to do. It can become claustrophobic. So the way we deal with it is to keep everyone and everything at arm's length. We've not allowed ourselves or our lives to change at all since the band became better known. It's much better this way. Somehow we write much better music when we don't imagine anyone hearing it. I'm not sure why this works but it does. It's cool because we keep ourselves inspired just like the early days when nobody had ever heard our music.
Marcus: Yes that's just it. When we started out we spent years playing music in the 'standard band format' of drums guitars and voices. Our backgrounds in music are very different from what we're doing in Boards of Canada. We were never DJ's or whatever, and we didn't come to electronic music from the computer side of things. When we first got into electronics in the mid-1980's we would record all the parts by hand, we didn't have sequencers. So it makes sense that we still write in that way nowadays.
Mike: We still play live instruments all the time. We both play a few different instruments. We have quite a few guitars. We collect instruments, and I've got a lot of percussion instruments for example. We record music like this a lot, though we just haven't released any of it on the scale that we are releasing the Boards of Canada tracks. But one day we will.
There is a common quality to most of your tracks : the decaying of the sound, like it is on the verge of falling apart.
Mike: We just destroy the sound. Most people spend ages trying to polish the sound and improve it, but we use tapes and old gear and analogue synths to downgrade the sound and make it more damaged, to sound older.


You seem to champion a way of life outside of urban environments
Marcus: We've both spent most of our lives in the country, although we've both also had periods of our lives living in cities too. We get more ideas for our music and art when we're in the countryside. It's not easy to explain. We think it's because being in the city tends to make musicians influence each other, and fashions and so on get mingled. You can't avoid being homogenized in the city. But when you're away from it you can let your imagination run wild and you don't stop for a minute to worry about what other people are going to think of your work. The peace we get in the countryside is analogous to having space in your head to dream.


what about the ecological concerns that seem to be at the core of your records ?
Mike: It's not a huge deal to us, it's just one issue we're concerned about, amongst a lot of issues. We're conscious of world issues such as the environment, debt, terrorism, censorship, human rights, and so on, and we can be very outspoken about our political beliefs at times, but usually we try to avoid letting it into our music. Another reason for the inclusion of those tracks is just the aesthetic of them, I mean we believe in the statements, but we also want to include things like that just because they evoke a certain type of Governmental public-awareness broadcast. It adds to the idea that you're not actually listening to an album by one band, but in fact a collage of different recordings, a bit like tuning between stations on a shortwave radio.


Is there much pressure when working on a new record ?
Marcus: The only pressure on us when we're recording music is from ourselves. If you let the fans or the record company start to apply pressure on you, your music would suffer. So we just keep away from everyone and get on with jamming and writing, and after a while a record comes out of it. Mike: That's precisely one of the most important things about us as a band. We hate listening to perfect music, and one of the things we strive to do is to damage the sound in such a way that the listener can't tell what time-period the music comes from. We have a lot of techniques for this, such as obvious things like adding drop-outs, wobble, filtering, scratches, flutters, as well as a few secret recipes. The damaged sound adds a character that you can associate with an imaginary and distant time or place. It's like a barely controlled chaos, it's always on edge, threatening to fall apart, just like the best music of the past, before everyone started using computers to sanitise and sterilise music in a cold and clinical way.


You have been an inspiration to many musicians. Are you aware of your huge influence ?
Marcus: We're a bit clueless about this to be honest, especially as we just get on with things and we don't listen to a lot of current 'electronica'. If we've inspired anyone to make their own records then that's great.
Mike: Absolutely not. I mean it's gratifying to know that people are out there who are really into our music, and those people matter to us. But commercial success and being in magazines and so on is a bit of a stress really and we don't care for it. You can't look at music as a business or a competition at the same time as making music you genuinely love. And we will never make music that we don't genuinely love.


What inspires you ?
Mike Everything! We listen to a lot of different things, and most of it isn't electronic. We read a lot and watch films and TV. We're like sponges, we soak up everything in and it gives us ideas. Right now I'm getting a lot of inspiration from music by Clouddead, Vaughan Williams, early Cocteau Twins, Joni Mitchell, James Taylor, 1970's reggae, Aspera, and books on Nikola Tesla and maths, and films like 'The Illustrated Man' and 'Dark Star'. Marcus: We had a lot more than that. The big problem was putting together a few tracks that suited each other as a sort of continuous soundtrack. It's just an instinctive approach.
What influences you mostly ?
Mike: It's actually very difficult for us to talk about our direct influences because we've been listening to an incredible mix of things since we were very young. It's actually easier for us to name areas of music that we DON'T have an interest in! As for Steve Reich and his peers, we love this kind of music but we discovered it quite late, after we were creating our own experiments for years. Our biggest difficulty as both writers of music and listeners of music is the process of 'distilling' our influences down and eliminating all the things we don't want to do.
Marcus: We're interested in these things but not practitioners. We see ourselves as observers, outside all this stuff, like the religion theme and so on. They're all just subjects we're interested in, that inspire music somehow. At the end of the day, we're just trying to make music.



I Colori Della Musica Elettronica

title I Colori Della Musica Elettronica
author Beppe Recchia
publication Blow Up
date 2002/03
issue No.46
pages pp.24-27



"I Colori Della Musica Elettronica" is an interview (in Italian) by Beppe Recchia originally published Mar. 2002 in Blow Up magazine Number 46, pp.24-27.

This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.

I Colori Della Musica Elettronica

"Nello spazio nessuno puĂČ sentirvi urlare, il che non Ăš piĂč tanto necessario ora che gli scienziati hanno scoperto che l'universo Ăš una varietĂ  di turchese. Ricercatori americani hanno rivelato che il colore medio, ovvero quello che si otterrebbe se tutta la luce visibile si mescolasse, Ăš una tonalitĂ  verdognola compresa tra l'acquamarina ed il turchese. L'universo ha giĂ  attraversato il suo periodo blu, dominato da stelle giovani e attraversa attualmente la sua fase verde, che corrisponde sostanzialmente alla sua mezza etĂ . Nella sua fase finale sarĂ  il rosso a dominare."

(Jeevan Vasagar, And the colour of the universe is ... , venerdĂŹ 11 gennaio 2002, The Guardian)


E' con questa notizia che qualche giorno dopo la Warp decide di annunciare l'imminente pubblicazione di Geogaddi, nuovo album dei Boards of Canada. L'operazione, nel piĂč classico stile dell'etichetta di Sheffield, fa scattare nei piĂč attenti all'iconografia del duo scozzese almeno un paio di considerazioni: la prima Ăš che tenendo conto dell'abbondante uso del turchese nelle copertine e nei titoli dei BoC, la notizia sembra quasi perfettamente artefatta; la seconda, piĂč inquietante, Ăš che, se si guarda la copertina di Geogaddi - dei bambini che fanno il girotondo intorno ad un albero in una scala cromatica che varia dal giallo al rosso - viene da chiedersi se questo non sia il loro album definitivo. Ed allora, prima che sia troppo tardi, raccontiamo la loro storia.


'Our friends and families hear all the music we write, and that's all that matters really.'


Il periodo blu


Mike Sandison (nato il 14 luglio1971) e Marcus Eoin (nato il 27 maggio 1973) si conoscono sin da bambini, quando, attraverso numerosi cambi di residenza delle rispettive famiglie, dal nord dell'Inghilterra sino allo stato dell'Alberta in Canada e ritorno, cominciano a suonare diversi strumenti e a mostrare una spiccata passione per i sintetizzatori ed i campionatori. I loro primi esperimenti fanno da commento a progetti visivi, documentari girati in modo casalingo con un super-8. E' proprio in omaggio al National Film Board of Canada, i cui filmati vengono avidamente consumati dai due e dal loro ristretto gruppo di amici, che l'originaria formazione prende il nome: Ăš il 1986 e Marcus suona il basso, ma ciĂČ che verrĂ  negli anni successivi viene in un certo modo giĂ  anticipato dall'intreccio degli strumenti con i suoni emessi dai personal computers e con quelli catturati dalla radio e dalla televisione.

L'alone di mistero che avvolge l'attivitĂ  dei primissimi BoC Ăš spesso e denso: si dice che abbiano cambiato formazione quattordici volte, che abbiano costituito una vera e propria eccezione - difficile stupirsi, dato che un'affascinante anomalia lo sono ancora oggi - nel circuito live scozzese, dovendo conciliare le loro influenze che spaziavano da Cocteau twins a Front 242. con la necessitĂ  di dover far da supporto ad una serie quasi infinita di cover bands dedite al glam-rock, e che per evitare l'onta abbiano cominciato a mettere su autonomamente degli happenings all'aperto, dove accolti da enormi falĂČ si presenziava a installazioni cinematografico-musicali in cui vecchi temi televisivi o filastrocche di infantile memoria venivano torturati da ritmi elettronici incalzanti o rivoltati con sovraincisioni di messaggi in backwards.

Quel che Ăš certo Ăš che nel 1989 i Boards of Canada sono ormai ridotti ad un nucleo essenziale di tre elementi - Mike, Marcus ed un certo Chris -, che decide di creare il proprio studio di registrazione, dal nome di Hexagon sun, nelle Pentland Hills nel nord-est della Scozia (l'aperta campagna che circonda Edinburgo). Per un lungo periodo registrano una messe di e.p. e di album per l'autofinanziata Music70, ma nessuno dei quali supera i ristretti confini del circolo familiare e delle amicizie; ricorda Mike, "Abbiamo fatto musica sin dai tempi della scuola negli anni '80 e nessuno l'ascolterĂ  mai. I nostri amici e le nostre famiglie sono gli unici ad ascoltare tutto ciĂČ che scriviamo e questo Ăš ciĂČ che davvero importa. C'Ăš da rimanere senza parole per quanto materiale abbiamo su nastro."


'"Music Has The Right To Children" is a statement of our intention to affect the audience using sound.'


La fase turchese


Non proprio tutto rimane ignoto: nel 1996, Twoism, l'ennesimo lavoro a tiratura limitata finisce negli uffici dell'etichetta di Manchester Skam e le sue melodie malinconiche rette da partiture elettroniche asciutte e lente convincono Sean Booth degli Autechre a chiamare nella stessa giornata Marcus e Mike - che nel frattempo sono rimasti un duo.

CiĂČ che vien fuori da questo incontro Ăš Hi-scores, un e.p. che in realtĂ  Ăš piĂč un mini (sei tracce per circa trenta minuti) che mostra compiutamente l'estetica BoC: una scrittura semplice e allo stesso efficace che mescola hĂŹp-hop sottile a rimandi della prima ondata elettro (Nlogax), ma su cui sovrasta una immensa capacitĂ  melodica che li pone una spanna sopra il mucchio. Che il gruppo sia giĂ  maturo Ăš testimoniato dalla presenza del futuro classico Turquoise hexagon sun (poi ripreso nell'album di debutto) e della lunga e finale Everything you do is a balloon, che dĂ  la sensazione di trasvolare l'oceano a cavallo di un pallone aerostatico.

Difficile trovare una categoria o un'etichetta; troppo agitate le acque piĂč profonde dei brani per essere ambient, ma anche troppo morbidi e onirici per essere techno. Anche per questo i BoC diventano 'proprietĂ  bollente' ed il loro 1997 Ăš caratterizzato da un'attivitĂ  frenetica: partecipazioni ad una serie di e.p. a tiratura limitata - non si superano le 200 copie - edita congiuntamente con il nome MASK dalla Skam e dalla tedesca Musik Aus Strom (per la quale incidono tanto sotto il nome BoC quanto sotto l'alter ego Hell lnterface), l'immancabile manipolo di remix, e molti concerti con Autechre, Plaid e Seefel, e finanche l'apparizione al festival di Phoenix in estate.

Nel febbraio 1998, dopo alcuni mesi di voci insistenti, la Warp conferma di aver messo i Boards of Canada sotto contratto. CosĂŹ, dopo la pubblicazione di una tiratura rigorosamente limitata su 7" del brano Aquarius, nell'aprile arriva finalmente Music has the right to children. Qualunque iperbole abbiate letto al riguardo, Ăš pienamente giustificata: Music Ăš tanto in termini di qualitĂ  assoluta, quanto per capacitĂ  di influenzare i movimenti della scena elettronica - mi correggo, della scena e basta; pensate ai Radiohead - uno dei dischi fondamentali del decennio trascorso.

Marcus e Mike rifiniscono gli spunti originali presenti in Hi-scores e mettono a punto una lunga opera di sessantatrĂš minuti che attraversa le balbuzie sincopate e un po' sinistre di Telephasic workshop, le trasmissioni lunari di Sixtyten, i gorghi ripetitivi di Rue the whirl, alternandosi ad abbozzi sonori che difficilmente superano il minuto e che spesso devono essere annoverati tra le cose migliori del disco. Su questi ultimi, in particolare, Mike sottolinea come "stiamo cercando di comporre in maniera orizzontale, quando Ăš cosĂŹ scontato scrivere aggiungendo e togliendo cose che poi ritornano. Comprendiamo perfettamente il principio per cui se inserisci qualcosa di affascinante in un brano una volta sola costringerai chi ascolta a far partire di nuovo il disco per poterlo riascoltare. E' come quel passaggio di Strawberry fields dove c'Ăš una vocina che dice 'I buried Paul' ed Ăš cosĂŹ nascosta, eppure percepibile, che ti chiedi se l'hai immaginata o se Ăš solo sulla tua copia del disco".

Qualcuno la chiamerà stregoneria, ma rifinendo la propria arte, il duo sembra essere diventato quasi superfluo alla sua epifania: Ú come se le macchine si animassero e comunicassero senza tramite umano. E' questa forse la ragione per cui Music has the right Ú cosÏ impersonale - niente foto, e neppure le immagini dei bambini in copertina hanno definite sembianze - e personale insieme, perché Ú l'ascoltatore a decifrarlo e caricarlo di contenuti, grazie alla complicità di frammenti vocali o brevi messaggi. La rivendicazione del diritto all'immaginazione (il reato di cui la censura potrebbe accusare i BoC, come suggerito nella chiusura di One important thought) viene immediatamente recepito dalla stampa specializzata, che dopo avergli giustamente tributato quasi ovunque il titolo di disco del mese e poi dell'anno, nel caso dell'inglese NME, lo inserisce anche nell'elenco dei 25 dischi psichedelici di tutti i tempi (per la cronaca, il primo Ú Tomorrow never knows dei Beatles).


Epilogo: verso la fase rossa


E poi? Come si fa a dare il seguito a uno dei dischi piĂč acclamati di sempre? Il rischio Ăš quello di avvolgersi su se stessi e finire come i My bloody valentine, ancora alla ricerca del suono perfetto senza che una sola nota abbia visto la luce negli ultimi dieci anni. E' quello che evidentemente devono aver passato anche i nostri se cor rispondono al vero le voci che li hanno dati in studio di registrazione sin dall'estate del 1998 per un fatidico secondo album prima annunciato per l'inizio del 1999 e poi a cadenza costante rinviato a data indefinita.

Le uscite si sono fatte sempre piĂč rarefatte: prima la pubblicazione della Peel session registrata per il programma di Radio One nel giugno 1998 e giudicata dallo stesso Peel come 'eccellente', ma che in realtĂ  poco aggiunge alla conoscenza del duo scozzese, se non la possibilitĂ  di recuperare una Happy cycling altrimenti destinata al mercato dei collezionisti (e a brano di chiusura della versione americana di Music has the right to children), poi il contributo agli album per i 10 anni della Warp. Infine, piĂč di un anno fa un nuovo e.p., In a beautiful piace out in the country, che piuttosto che soddisfare gli appetiti ha finito per alimentarli a dismisura, rappresentando il momento piĂč caldo dell'intera discografia. I frammenti vocali si fanno quasi canto nella title-track ed aggiungono una nuova dimensione al contrasto ritmica/melodia del passato; i brani si allungano e sembrano poter durare all'infinito, come un sogno celestiale e visionario (Zoetrope, Kid for today).

Non conosco nessuno che non abbia ascoltato l'e.p. almeno quattro volte di fila appena acquistato, ipnotizzato da quella che Mike chiama 'il potere emotivo della melodia'. E di ipnosi e magia ha parlato anche chi Ăš riuscito a vederli trionfare all'edizione 2001 dell' All Tomorrow's parties, dove ad aggiungere mistero c'erano lunghi drappi neri calati sulla strumentazione del palco. Pochi fortunati, quelli. Ma ora, se state leggendo questo articolo, ascoltando Geogaddi, come io sto facendo, fortunati anche noi. The wait is over.


Discografia


Hi-scores (SKA008, SKAM 1996)

Music has the right to children (WARP55, WARP 1998)

Peel session (WAP114, Warp 1999)

lnabeautifulplaceoutinthecountry (WAP144, WARP 2000)

Geogaddi (WARP101, WARP 2002)


Le dichiarazioni di Mike Sandison sono tratte da un'intervista rilasciata al sito www.xlr8r.com


L'intervista


Era il caso che anche i diretti interessati dicessero al loro; e cosĂŹ, con un breve e veloce scambio di posta elettronica, queste le opinioni e le rivelazioni dei due Boards of Canada.


L'uscita di Geogaddi Ăš stata piĂč volte annunciata e altrettante volte rinviata. Perfezionismo o pressione?
Mike: Direi che Ăš tutta colpa del nostro essere perfezionisti, visto che in questi anni abbiamo registrato una quantitĂ  enorme di tracce per fermarci solo quando il disco ci Ăš sembrato che suonasse finalmente compiuto. Non ci piace lavorare con delle scadenze, pensiamo che sia deleterio per la nostra musica; cosĂŹ siamo andati avanti fino a quando non ci siamo sentiti appagati dai risultati. Le uniche pressioni sono venute da noi stessi: quando siamo concentrati sul lavoro, ci riesce difficile immaginare persino che qualcun altro, oltre noi, possa ascoltare le cose che stiamo registrando.


Music has the right to children ha avuto come effetto collaterale la nascita di una nuova moda: l'elettronica organica. Che ne pensate?
Marcus: E' tutt'altro che un dato negativo, credo, se serve a trasmettere l'idea che si possa fare un uso sporco ed irregolare dell'elettronica, o per creare musica che non sia semplicemente destinata a far ballare. Riceviamo moltissima musica da nuovi artisti e ci piace ascoltare tutto, alcune di queste cose sono a dir poco grandiose. Ma Ăš anche vero che ormai si comincia a scegliere questa direzione forse piĂč preoccupati di ottenere una innocua imitazione di suoni alla moda, che per privilegiare le melodie. Anzi, direi che la gran parte di queste produzioni Ăš proprio carente quanto a melodia, che per noi rimane l'elemento piĂč importante da ricercare.


Che dischi avete ascoltato durante la lavorazione di Geogaddi?
Mike: Negli ultimi due anni ci siamo appassionati soprattutto all'hip-hop melodico e superintelligente dei Clouddead e dei gruppi Anticon. Dose One Ăš un amico e si parla spesso di fare un disco insieme. Abbiamo anche ascoltato molto materiale di etichette come Western Vinyl e Temporary Residence Limited, specializzate in gruppi con un suono di chitarra minimale e poetico, penso a Sonna, Tarentel, Bonny Billy. E poi c'Ăš un gruppo assolutamente incredibile, si chiamano Aspera, e sembrano una rock band psichedelica degli anni '60 trasportata negli anni '80. A parte questi, abbiamo rispolverato dischi piĂč vecchi, come quelli di Joni Mitchell e Scott Walter, purchĂš si trattasse sempre di musica minimale, psichedelica, con delle chitarre un po' sognanti.


Nei vostri dischi non mancano mai riferimenti all'infanzia e alla natura. Possiamo definirla come una intima nostalgia o come il desiderio di recuperare una innocenza perduta?
Mike: Credo che, come adulti, percepiamo di aver per sempre perso quello stupore tipicamente infantile, che cerchiamo di ritrovare anche se solo temporaneamente nella nostra musica. L'infanzia Ăš uno spazio transitorio ed effimero della vita di ognuno: anche i tuoi fratelli o le tue sorelle li conoscerai da molto piĂč tempo come adulti che come bambini; perciĂČ Ăš come se quei bambini che conoscevi fossero andati perduti da qualche parte e sostituiti con esseri adulti. Cerchiamo di creare della musica che anche per poco riesca a sintonizzarsi con il luogo dove quei bambini sono andati a finire e ne riusciamo a captare debolmente i loro suoni, disturbati dalle interferenze.


I vostri brani riescono a funzionare a molteplici livelli di ascolto. Come vengono costruiti?
Marcus: Di solito Ăš la melodia a venire prima, e a questa poi aggiungiamo una struttura ritmica, anche se a volte il procedimento Ăš stato inverso. In ogni caso, il passaggio successivo Ăš quello di 'immaginare' i dettagli del brano e quindi di nasconderli e confonderli nella musica.


Sono insistenti le voci per cui usereste messaggi subliminali. Solo voci o credete nella possibilitĂ  di manovrare le menti di chi vi ascolta?
Marcus: Se sei nella posizione in cui i tuoi dischi finiscono nelle mani di migliaia di persone che li ascolteranno ripetutamente, a un certo punti ti viene da pensare 'Cosa potremmo fare con questo brano? Potremmo sperimentare con quest'altro ... '. Allora, abbiamo provato ad aggiungere elementi che fossero altro rispetto alla musica. Alcune volte abbiamo incluso voci per verificare se facessero scattare delle associazioni di idee, e altre volte abbiamo anche progettato la struttura di alcuni brani secondo regole che non fossero consciamente riconoscibili. Su Geogaddi, ad esempio, The Devil ls In The Details ha un riff che ripropone in musica un'equazione. Magari non significherĂ  molto per nessuno, ma trovo che sia interessante anche solo il fatto di provarci.


Allora ammettete che una vostra arma segreta Ăš l'uso dei numeri di Fibonacci.
Mike: No, ci capita di farlo di tanto in tanto. La serie Fibonacci, utilizzata da altri artisti in passato per raggiungere il bello in pittura o in architettura, Ăš solo una delle equazioni che abbiamo impiegato per scrivere melodie, anche perchĂš ricorre assai spesso in natura, dalle foglie di felce ai gusci delle lumache. Ma nonostante che alcune melodie siano basate su principi matematici ed equazioni, assai piĂč spesso il nostro modo di comporre Ăš tradizionale e prende spunto dalla nostra immaginazione.
Il finale di Music has the right to children insinuava che ci fosse qualcosa sul disco passibile di censura. Di che si trattava?
Marcus: Era solo un modo divertente di affermare qualcosa di serio sulla censura. Ci piace sperimentare e vedere sino a che punto si possano mimetizzare voci e messaggi cosĂŹ che sarebbe molto difficile per gli eventuali censori dimostrare le loro tesi. La libertĂ  di espressione Ăš un argomento che ci sta molto a cuore.


Geogaddi reca accanto al marchio Warp quello di Music70, che Ăš anche la vostra casa di produzione cinematografica. li disco avrĂ  dunque un accompagnamento video?
Mike: C'Ăš la possibilitĂ  che un paio di brani, magari in una versione diversa da quella in cui compaiono nel disco, diventino l'ossatura di un cortometraggio. Ma stiamo attualmente lavorando anche su altri progetti visivi. Vedremo.



A lato (p.26)


I Boards Of Canada sono un altro esempio di quella confluenza stilistica che ha portato l'elettronica degli anni '90 ben oltre i confini del dancefloor ... ... ma non si tratta di musica dance che ha cercato un mezzo espressivo per allargare il bacino d'utenza oltre gli amanti della pista. Le radici dei Boards Of Canada appaiono subito piĂč intellettuali e sofisticate rispetto a quelle dei gruppi house e techno che dominano i club di inizio decennio. L'etichetta che pubblica il loro esordio su album Ăš la Warp: inevitabilmente il primo riferimento obbligato Ăš proprio lo stile tipico della label, quella famosa intelligent techno (un neologismo piuttosto infelice, in definitiva) che agli inizi del decennio ha marcato in modo decisivo l'elettronica inglese e lascerĂ  ai posteri opere memorabili di Black Dog, LFO e Nightmares On Wax, per citare solo i nomi piĂč famosi. La Warp nella seconda metĂ  degli anni '90 non Ăš perĂČ piĂč all'avanguardia come nel precedente lustre. I suoi nomi di punta non hanno avuto un ricambio sufficiente e perfino fuoriclasse come gli Autechre (per molti versi il riferimento piĂč evidente per i BOC) cominciano ad avere qualche difficoltĂ  a rinnovarsi. La label di Sheffield comincia allora proprio con i Boards Of Canada quel percorso di revisione stilistica 'che la porterĂ , nel 2001, a farle addirittura incide're gli esordi di Vincent Gallo o di Prefuse 73. E qui arriva il punto sulla musica dei Boards Of Canada. Non si tratta piĂč di sola techno, cosa che non sembra cosĂŹ evidente di primo acchito, ma che costituirĂ  l'importanza futura di "Music Has The Right To Children". Le radici e le sonoritĂ  sono elettroniche, questo sĂŹ, ma emerge in qualche modo un contesto piĂč aperto, dove il suono sembra espandersi nello spazio - e non nel tempo circolare scandito dall'iterativitĂ  ritmica. PiĂč che un groove, c'Ăš una dimensione dilatata e a piĂč ampio respiro che non Ăš talvolta dissimile da quella messa in atto da molti gruppi di area post rock; tant'Ăš vero che anche il pubblico normalmente piĂč interessato all'indie rock che non a proposte dance finisce col ravvedere in quella musica elementi di interesse. Succede che l'elettronica viene messa al servizio di un concetto che si evolve diversamente rispetto alle musiche di matrice essenzialmente ritmica. Finora nella musica elettronica il beat Ăš stato fondamentale, anche quando l'approccio Ăš di ristrutturarlo in funzione di obiettivi che vanno al di lĂ  del dancefloor: vedi il caso del trip hop, che rallenta e rende esplicitamente musicale l'asciuttezza e il minimalismo dell'hip hop. I Boards Of Canada, al contrario, iniziano ad utilizzare tecniche e modalitĂ  sonore che sono normalmente appannaggio della musica di campionatori e sequencer per creare atmosfere astratte, spaziali, quasi surreali - e non per forza strutturate attorno al ritmo, che per quanto sia complesso e articolato non Ăš mai il conduttore principale della musica, al contrario ricca di tastiere sognanti, suggestioni melodiche, atmosfere sospese. Quindi elettronica sĂŹ, ma senz'altro piĂč quella che lega il kraut rock alla ambient di fine anni '80, che nori quella della generazione house. "Music Has The Right To Children" Ăš un disco imperfetto, ancora in sospeso tra una continuitĂ  con la techno dei primi '90 e la sua successiva evoluzione; ma rimane di grandissima importanza nell'elettronica di fine millennio, quasi confrontabile con quella avuta da "Moon Safari" degli Air, anch'esso del '98. In dischi come quello ci sono le radici del suono che definimmo qualche mese or sono easytronica: l'evoluzione del nuovo downtempo, sempre piĂč slegata dalle imposizioni ritmiche dell'hip hop, forte melodicamente, ricca di atmosfere psichedeliche e di grande suggestione. Per i Boards Of Canada, Ăš tempo di confermarsi un gruppo adulto dell'elettronica del nuovo secolo. Bizarre

Note: translation provided by Orbited insanitarium[10]


The Colors Of Electronic Music


"In space no one can hear you scream, which the universe is a variety of turquoise. American researchers have revealed that the average color, that is, the one that would be obtained if all visible light were mixed, is a greenish hue between aquamarine and turquoise. The universe has already gone through it's blue period, dominated by young stars, and is currently in it's green phase, which basically corresponds to it's middle age. In it's final phase, red will dominate"


It is with this news that a few days Warp decides to announce the imminent release of Geogaddi, the new boards of canada album. The operation, in the most classic style of the Sheffield label, triggers at least a couple of considerations in the most attentive to the iconography of the Scottish duo: the first is that taking into account the abundant use of turquoise in the covers and titles of the BoC, the news seemed almost perfectly artificial; the second, more disturbing, is that, if you look at the cover of Geogaddi - of children who go around a tree in a chromatic scale that varies from yellow to red - one wonders if this is not their definitive album. And then, before it's too late, lets tell their story.


Mike Sandison (born July 14, 1971) and Marcus Eoin (born May 27, 1973) have known each other since childhood. when, through numerous changes of residence of their respected families, from the north of England to the state of Alberta in Canada and back, they begin to play different instruments and show a strong passion for synthesizers and samplers. Their first experiments comment on visual projects, documentaries shot in a home way with a super-8. It is in homage to the National Film Board of Canada, whose films are eagerly consumed by the two and their small group of friends, that the original formation takes it's name: it is 1986 and Marcus plays the bass, but what will come in the following years it is in a certain way already anticipated by the intertwining of instruments with the sounds emitted by personal computers and with those captured by radio and television. The halo of mystery that surrounds the activity of the very first BoCs is thick and dense: it is said that they have changed formation fourteen times, that they have been a real exception - hard to be surprised, given that a fascinating anomaly they still are today - in the Scottish live circuit, having to reconcile their influences ranging from the Cocteau twins to Front 242. With the need to support an almost infinite series of cover bands dedicated to glam-rock, and that to avoid the shame they started to autonomously set up outdoor happenings, where greeted by huge bonfires, he attended film-musical installations in which old television themes or nursery rhymes of childhood memory were tortured by pressing electronic rhythms or turned over with over-insisting of messages in the backwards. What is certain is that in 1989 the Boards of Canada are now reduced to an essential core of three elements - Mike, Marcus and a certain Chris -, who decides to create his own recording studio. called Hexagon sun, in the Pentland Hills in north-east Scotland (the open countryside surrounding Edinburgh). For a long time they recorded a harvest of e.p and albums for the self-financed Music70, but none of which went beyond the narrow confines of the family circle and friendships; recalls Mike, "We've been making music since school in the 1980s and no one will ever listen to it. Our friends and families are the only ones who hear everything we write and that's what we really matters. We must remain speechless for how much material we have on tape"


The turquoise phase


Not everything remains unknown: in 1996, Twoism, yet another limited edition work ends up in the Manchester Skam label and it's melancholy melodies supported by dry and slow electronic scores convince Sean Booth of Autechre to call Marcus on the same day and Mike - who have remained a duo in the meantime. What comes out of this meeting is Hi-scores, an ep that is actually more of a mini (six tracks for about thirty minutes) that fully shows the BoC aesthetic: a simple yet effective writing that mixes subtle hi-hop. To references to the first electro wave (Nlogax), but on which an immense melodic capacity dominates that puts it a notch above the pile. That the group is already mature is evidenced by the presence of the future classic Turquoise hexagon sun (later reprised in the debut album) and the long and final Everything you do is a balloon, which gives the sensation of flying across the ocean on a air balloon. Difficult to find a category or a label; the deepest waters of the songs are too agitated to be ambient, but also too soft and dreamlike to be techno. Also for this reason BoC became 'hot property' and their 1997 was characterised by a frenetic activity: participation in a series of limited edition EPs - no more than 200 copies - published jointly with the name MASK by Skam and the German company. Musik aus Strom (for which they record both under the name BoC and under the alter ego Hell Interface), the inevitable handful of remixes, and many concerts with Autechre, Plaid and Seefel, and even the appearance at the phoenix festival in summer. In Febuary 1998 after a few months of persistent rumours, Warp confirms that is has signed the Boards of Canada. So, after the publication of a 7 "edition of the song Aquarius, Music has the right to children finally arrives in April. Any hyperbole you have read about it is justified: Music is as much in terms of absolute quality as it is for the ability to influence the movements of the electronic scene - I correct myself, of the scene and that's it; think of Radiohead - one of the fundamental records from the past decade. Marcus and Mike refine the original ideas present in Hi-scores and develop a long work of sixty-three minutes that crosses the syncopated and somewhat sinister stammering of Telephasic workshop, the lunar transmissions of Sixtyten, the repetitive eddies of Rue the whirl, alternating to sound sketches that hardly exceed one minute and that often must be counted among the best things on the record. On the latter, in particular, Mike underlines how "we are trying to compose horizontally, when it is so obvious to write by adding and removing things that then come back. We perfectly understand the principle that if you insert something fascinating into a song only once you will force who listens to play the record again to be able to listen to it again. It's like that passage in Strawberry fields where there's a little voice that says 'I Buried Paul' and it's so hidden, yet audible, that you wonder if you imagined it or if it's only on your copy of the disk ". Some call it witchcraft, but by refining their art, the duo seems to have become almost superflou at their epiphany: it is as if the machines come to life and communicate without a human link. This is perhaps the reason the images of children on the cover have defined appearance - and personal at the same time, because it is the listener who decrypts it and loads it with content, thanks to the complicity of vocal fragments or short messages. The claim of the right to the imagination (the offence of which the censors could accuse the BoC, as suggested in the closing of One important thought) is immediately acknowledged by the specialised press, which dope having rightly paid him the title of album of the month and then of the year almost everywhere, in the case of English NME, he also inserts it in the list of 25 psychedelic discs of all time (for the record, the first is Tommorow never knows of the Beatles).


Epilogue: towards the red phase


Then? How do you follow up one of the most acclaimed records ever? The risk is to wrap around themselves and end up like My Bloody Valentine, still looking for the perfect sound without a single note having seen the light in the last ten years. It is what evidently our people too must have gone through if the rumours that given in the recording studio since the summer of 1998 for a fateful second album first announced for the beginning of 1999and then on a constant basis must have passed. Postponed to an indefinite date. The releases have become increasingly rarefied: first the publication of the peel session recorded for the Radio One program in June 1998 and judged by Peel himself as 'excellent', but which actually ads little to the knowledge of of the Scottish duo, if not the possibility of recovering a Happy cycling otherwise destined for the collectors market (and closing track of the American version of Music has the right to children), then the contribution to the albums for the ten years of Warp. Finally, more than a year ago a new e.p., in a beautiful place out in the country, which rather than satisfying appetites ended up feeding them out of all proportion. Representing the hottest moment of the entire discography. The vocal fragments are almost singing in the title track and add a new dimension to the contrast rhythmic / melodic of the past: the songs get longer and seem to be able to last indefinitely, like a celestial and visionary dream (Zoetrope, Kid for today). I don't know anyone who hasn't listened to the e.p. at least four times in a row just purchased., mesmerised by what Mike calls 'the emotional power of melody'. And those who managed to see them triumph at the 2001 edition of the All tommorows parties also talked about hypnosis and magic, where to add mystery there were long black drapes lowered over the stage equipment. A few lucky ones. But now, if you are reading this article, listening to Geogaddi, as I am doing, lucky us too. The wait is over.


The interview


It was the case that even those directly concerned told theirs; and so, with a short and quick exchange of e-mails, these are the opinions and revelations of the two Boards of Canada.


The release of Geogaddi has been announced several times and as many times postponed. Perfectionism or pressure?


"Mike: I would say it's all the fault of our being perfectionists, since in recent years we have recorded a huge amount of tracks to stop only when the record seemed to us to finally sound complete. We don't like working with deadlines, we think it's bad for our music; so we felt apaggerated by the results. The only pressures came from ourselves: when we are focused on work, it is difficult for us to even imagine that anyone other than us could hear the things we are recording."


Music has the right to children has had a side effect, the birth of a new fashion: organic electronics. What do you think?


"Marcus: It is far from a bad thing, I think, if it serves to convey the idea that you can make dirty and irregular use of electronics, or to create music that is not simply meant to make you dance. We get a lot of music from new artists and we love to hear everything, some of these things are nothing short of great. but it is also true that by now we are starting to choose this direction, perhaps more concerned with obtaining a harmless imitation of fashionable sounds, than with favoring melodies. Indeed, i would say that most of these productions are really lacking in terms of melody, which for us remains the most important element to search for."


What discs did you listen to while making Geogaddi?


"Mike: In the last couple of years we have mostly been passionate about melodic and super-smart hip-hop from Clouddead and Anticon bands. Dose one is a friend and we often talk about making a record together. We also listened to a lot of material from labels such as western vinyl and temporary Residence Limited, specialized in groups with a minimal and poetic guitar sound, I think of Sonna, Tarentel, Bonny Billy. And then there is an absolutely incredible group, called Aspera, and they look like a psychedelic rock band from the 60s transported to the 80s. Aside from that, we've dusted off older records, like those by Joni Mitchell and Scott Walter. As long as it was always minimal, psychedelic music, with some dreamy guitars."


Your records never lack references to childhood and nature. Can we define at as an intimate nostalgia or as the desire to recover a lost innocence?


"Mike: I think, as adults, we feel that we have lost forever that typically childish stupor, which we try to find even if only temporarily in our music. Childhood is a transitory and ephemeral space in everyone's life: even your brothers or sisters you will know them for much longer as adults than as children; therefore it is as if those children you knew have been lost somewhere and replaced with adult beings. We try to create music that even briefly manages to tune in to the place where those children have ended up and we can faintly pick up their sounds, disturbed by interference."


Your songs manage to function at multiple listening levels. How are they built?


"Marcus: Usually it's the melody that comes first, and then we add a rhythmic structure to that, even if sometimes the process has been reversed. In any case, the next step is to 'imagine' the details of the song and then hide and mix them in the music."


Rumours are persistent that you would use subliminal messages. Only rumours or do you believe in the possibility of manipulating the minds of those who listen to you?


"Marcus: If you are in the position where your records end up in the hands of thousands of people who will listen repeatedly, at some point it makes you think 'What could we do with this song? We could experiment with this one...'. So, we tried to add elements that were other than the music. Sometimes we include voices to see if they triggered associations of ideas, and other times we also designed the structure of the some pieces according to rules that were not consciously recognizable. On Geogaddi, for example The Devil Is In The Details has a riff that re-proposes an equation in music. It may not mean much to anyone, but I find it interesting just to try."


Then admit that one of your secret weapons is the use of fibonacci numbers.


"Mike: No, we happen to do this from time to time. The Fibonacci series, used by other artists in painting or architecture, is just one of the equations we used to write melodies, also because it occurs very often in nature, from fern leaves to snail shells. But despite the fact that some melodies are based on mathematical principles and equations, much more often our way of composing is traditional and is inspired by our imagination."


The finale of Music has the right to children insinuated that there was something on the record that could be censored. What was it about?


"Marcus: It was just a funny way of saying something serious about censorship. We like to experiment and see to what extent voices and messages can be camouflaged so that it would be very difficult for any censors to prove their thesis. Freedom of expression is a matter of great concern."


Geogaddi bears next to the Warp brand that of Music70, which is also your film production house. Will the disc have a video accompaniment then?


"Mike: There is the possibility that a couple of songs, perhaps in a different version from the one they appear on the record, become the backbone of a short film. But we are currently working on other visual projects as well. We will see."


Side (p.26)


The Boards of Canada are another example of that stylistic confluence that took 1990s electronics far beyond the confines of the dance floor... ...but it is not about dance music that has sought an expressive means to broaden the catchment area beyond the lovers of the track. The roots of the Boards of Canada immediately appear more intellectual and sophisticated than those of the house and techno groups that dominated the early twentieth century clubs. The label that publishes their debut album is Warp: inevitably the first obligatory reference is precisely the typical style of the label, the famous one intelligent techno (a rather unfortunate neologism, ultimately) which at the beginning of the decade decisively marked English electronics and will leave to posterity memorable works of Black dog, LFO and Nightmares On Wax, to name only the most famous names. The Warp in the second half of the 90s, however, is no longer avant-garde as in the previous decade. It's top names have not had a replacement sufficient and even champions like Autechre (in many ways the most evident reference for BOCs) they begin to have some difficulty in renewing themselves. The Sheffield label are starting to have some difficulties in renewing. The Sheffield label then begins precisely with the Boards of Canada that stylistic revision process 'that will lead it, in 2001, to make them even record the debuts of Vincent Gallo or Prefuse 73. And here comes the point about the Boards' music of Canada. It is no longer just techno, which doesn't seem so obvious at first glance, but which will constitute the future importance of "Music Has The Right To Children". The roots and sounds are electronic, yes, but somehow a more open context emerges, where the sound seems to expand in space - and not in a circular time marked by rhythmic iteratively. More than a groove, there is a dilated and broader dimension that is sometimes not dissimilar from that put in place by many post rock groups; so much so that even the public normally more interested in indie rock than in dance proposals end up seeing elements of interest in that music. It happens that the electronic beat was fundamental, even when the approach is to restructure it according to objectives that go beyond the dancefloor: see the case of trip hop, which slows down and makes dryness and minimalism explicitly musical. Hip hop. The Boards of Canada, on the contrary, began to use techniques and sound modes that are normally the prerogative of the samplers and sequencers to create abstract, spatial, almost surreal atmospheres - and not for structured around the rhythm, which, however complex and articulated, is never the main conductor of the music, on the contrary full of dreamy keyboards, melodic suggestions, suspended atmospheres. So electronic, yes, but certainly more the one that binds krout rock to the ambient of the late 80s, rather than that of the house generation. "Music Has The Right To Children" is an imperfect record, still in suspense between a continuity with the techno of the early 90s and it's subsequent evolution; but it remains of great importance in end-of-the-millennium electronics, almost comparable to that of Air's "Moon Safari", also from 1998. In records like that there are the roots of the sound we defined easytronica a few months ago: the evolution of the new downtempo, increasingly disconnected from the rhythmic imposition of hip hop, melodically strong, rich in psychedelic atmospheres and of great suggestion. For the Boards of Canada, it is time to confirm themselves as an adult group of twentieth century electronics. Bizarre.


The Last Unexplored Area of Boards of Canada

title The Last Unexplored Area of Boards of Canada
author Joe Sato, Nakamoto Hiroyuni
publication Buzz
date 2002/03
issue 31
pages 12-16



"The Last Unexplored Area of Boards of Canada" is an interview (In Japanese) by Joe Sato, Nakamoto Hiroyuni originally published Mar. 2002 in Buzz magazine Number 31, pp.12-16.

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Note: The original magazine was scanned to PDF. That PDF was sent to an online OCR tool to be converted to Japanese character text. The resulting text was translated on a basic level by Google Translate. That translation has been rewritten and interpreted into proper English by Toni L'Avon.


The Last Unexplored Area of Boards of Canada


It is already a miracle in not only electronic music, but in the entirety of music. The only thing that truly exists is the moment. Everything inside of me is entranced and captivated by a very particular sound. This sound reverberated and flowed from Boards of Canada's release - Geogaddi. Once, a band called My Bloody Valentine changed the world with its sweet and layered, sugar coated and heavily sculpted sound. Today we meet two musicians from Scotland, Mike Sandison and Marcus Eoin who have once again reshaped our entire perception of music. This will be their sixth public release, but the people behind the music are still very much a mystery. Music Has the Right to Children, which had been entirely distinct from the Hip-Hop, electronic and experimental music of the time that it was often associated with, created the backdrop for the long awaited second album, Geogaddi, the contents of which was far exceeding the boundaries of imagination created by the listener's anticipation and craving for more of the Sandison's sounds. They tend to be illusive and very shy of public exposure and interviews but, to my surprise and seemingly by miracle, this will be their first ever interview in Japan. We conducted the interview by email and I was anxiously awaiting a reply which, in turn, arrived safely. Now we can begin to peer beneath the illusive cloak of secrecy and begin to build a picture of the source of the sonic mastery below. It would all become clear.


Boards of Canada are not ones to involve themselves with the media too readily and their true identities are not known at all in Japan. Through this interview conducted via Email, I found that Mike and Marcus are each different characters with interesting personalities...


This album, the first full length release in around four years, is often directly compared to your previous work. Is this something you generally anticipate and was it created in the knowledge of it being a followup to Music Has the Right to Children?
Mike: This time I wanted to look at the various basic elements of music more than in our last release, and at the same time there was the reality that we wanted to create something rather more abstract than before. In a certain sense, we tried to reproduce melodies that seemed to have been ringing and circulating in certain dreams instead of ones from outside influences. In another sense, we begin with an adventure akin to Alice in Wonderland. Marcus coined the word Geogaddi, a combination of various words and it definitely has a strong meaning to us, but it can take on a variety of meanings. In the end every individual listener will have their own personal interpretation and meaning to ascribe to the word. As children, we used to watch B-Mini-Movies together and thoroughly enjoyed playing and recording together. My original aim was to inevitably be able to play paino by myself. Luckily for us, a mutual acquaintance lent us a synthesizer and we began to expand our sound and recording techniques from there.
The name 'Boards of Canada' is derived from the Canadian visual production company: National Film Board of Canada. I am told that the company is based in Canada and seems to produce nature and cultural films, alongside animated films for children. Is there a relation to this or a reason that you decided to use the name?
Mike: National Film Board of Canada is a huge organization. In the 1970's, when we were children, we often watched their productions and were always interested and enchanted by alterations in sound quality made as a result of the tape physically degrading. This later had a huge influence on our musical direction.
Can you tell me more about your history in creating and editing music. Are there any records that had a big impact on your lives?
Marcus: When we were younger, we both had access to a piano and guitar and used them to develop ourselves as musicians. There was one record I recall that was mostly created around the sampling of another older record, in fact. When I listened to it, I could instantly envision what I would want to do with it if it were in my hands, expanding upon the beats and mixing it down in a more simplistic way. It wasn't so much particular songs but particular elements and techniques used in music that I was attracted to. One artist we very much look at with respect is Meat Beat Manifesto, they are real innovators in their field. There were other records that I could almost believe were discs sent from the future, really amazing sequenced sections and I believe they were using a sequencer to play a monotonous synth. Other records attracted me due to elements such as bass-lines which immediately get you addicted to the music. In other cases you could feel that the synthesizers were just alive, beautifully so.
Mike: A handful of artists strive to create a beauty beyond the artificial tastelessness that we see in a lot of today's music. This isn't to say that I don't like a few things that people tend to refer to as artificial and tasteless though. An example of something I find it very difficult to like are computer programmed tracks that appear to have had the melodies completely overlooked, nothing resembling a true melody left. I think people tend to create that kind of music as a way of showing off computing/programming skills rather than a true affection for music. Music should be able to induce a sense of emotion that appeals to human understanding. A melody often creates a meaning within.
You are currently on Warp Records. What is your stance on their base philosophy and how do you view the current interpretation of 'Pop' music?
Mike: I think that Warp is an Anti-Pop label in a way. I do think that there is room for pop music in the world though and there are many tracks generally considered as 'Pop' that I have actually enjoyed. One thing that is usually predictable of Pop music is that there is a tendency to create it around just a melody. The human voice over a microphone can be interpreted as an instrument in and of itself and it can have a way of stimulating a primitive part of the mind, something human. Even artificially processing a voice to create a seemingly unnatural sound, these are actually quite innovative tricks.
What does aura and atmosphere mean to you in terms of your own music?
Mike: I feel that there is a place for creating what can be interpreted as Pretty songs even if words are rarely used. The atmosphere of the music can completely change when we do add vocals in some cases, even barely audible ones can be heard through the mix and affect the aura of a song entirely. When we write using more elements of psychedelia, the meaning of a track can often be a spiderweb of meaning. "The Devil Is In The Details" is an example of music being able to contain and convey multiple meanings at once.
In terms of Geogaddi, what inspires you to create such fascinating names for the tracks, for example: "Music Is Math"', "A Is To B As B Is To C"' and more natural themes such as on "Dandelion"' and "You Could Feel the Sky"'? When I hear them, it isn't something that I would associate with electronic music and rhythms. It is more the sound of nature.
Mike: I think the humanity of our music is reflected in our lives. Neither of us is particularly a technology lover. I want to move around as I think about working with machines. I think that experimental art does not have a mechanism that makes it possible to change music in such a way as to separate it from its existence in nature. It seems as if it is somehow made in a way in which technology has a large influence on the work, but the listeners are not ever sure of what it is. We believe it is music because it has an element of the abnormal and the unnatural. It is also the ability to create it as if one were experiencing or seeing it in a natural environment. We use authentic organic elements of sound and it is entertaining to create sounds that are beyond the reaches of our imagination.
Can you tell me anything more about the creation of Boards of Canada?
[Ambiguous as to who responds] We were both the children of musical families, living close to the sea. There really wasn't much entertainment for us as children. I began making strange cassette tapes, creating a tapestry of sound akin to the patterns of sound one hears in nature, perhaps on an island. In reality there are an infinitely large number of instruments one can use, with computer based 'Laptop music', your choices are entirely limited and constrained to the limits of the machine, not to the limits of human reality and beyond as it otherwise would be.
Is there also an influence in your music that comes from 'Hip-Hop', 'Break-beats' and heavy sequencing?
Mike: It is generally more enjoyable to watch live musicians. Laptops can be seen as a musical composition tool that allow you to be mobile as you are creating a musical composition, but I think it's good to get inspiration from, even better, knowing how to play raw and natural musical instruments. There is generally a problem with this generation musically, they have become very accustomed to mass production. I was conscious of sampling. When you listen to the Beatles as a child, you are very interested as to how certain sounds sound as they do. There is that sense of wonder in organic music. Sometimes listening to a flute on loop or a mandolin, it was absolutely impossible to understand how it sounded as it did. A mystery and a sense of wonder that wasn't ever clarified.


[Unintelligible section omitted]


Mentions several artists including 'Autechre', 'Aphex Twin', 'Squarepusher', 'Plaid', and 'My Bloody Valentine'
Mike: We certainly have a lot of respect and praise for 'My Bloody Valentine'. We consider ourselves both to be big fans. It seems that they are looking away from the artificial direction, towards the natural one. Actually, when we listen [to Loveless], we feel that it is not only a musical masterpiece, but a monumental piece that shows freedom of expression and, in turn, freedom of interpretation.
When you think of 'Loveless' by 'My Bloody Valentine' or 'Screamadelica' by 'Primal Scream'. Would it be fair to think of this work as almost Funk/Pop music for live audiences?
[Ambiguous as to which of the two artists he is referring to] Marcus: He tends to write their songs based around Pop structures that are highly appreciative of 'the Pop sound' and it is sonicly provocative. Its impossible to imitate the foremost sound quality and it seems that the noise is unintentionally out of the way. Unstable and subtle sounds are a positive thing, even if there are some people that find themselves unable to appreciate that kind of thing.
It seems as if there is an awful lot more hidden content in Geogaddi than on the previous record. Mathematical patterns and subliminal messages, it almost feels like a search for treasure. Are you interested in symbology and mathematics?
[Ambiguous as to who replies] Mathematics is a powerful reflection of admitting an un-measurable answer. The only way to explain the strange world of Geogaddi is to explain that it needs to be interpreted as the circulation of several simultaneous patterns. When you are a child, you wonder what you wonder, and are then told to accept the world as it is. After a couple of years, like any child, I got back into the mindset of wondering again. Examining the colour spectrum, wondering why things fall in such a way, wondering what the true colour of carrots are etc. I began thinking that perhaps my head was getting fucked up (laughs). If there is no concept of mathematics, one isn't able to see through the perspective of mathematics. Certain senses need to be learned in a way. There is no rule book, there is no such thing as 'x'.
Do you think of music as a tool for communication?
Mike: Of course there is music that exists solely for the purpose of communication. Actually Let me convey far more emotions than words ever could is a good example of how human beings developed intelligence. It started from the point at which an ape struck a stick and started clapping, and finally it became possible to express complex human emotion. There is someone, somewhere listening to the melodies I make and feeling nice if the emotion I am trying to put across is a sentiment like love or adoration. It would be nice if there were someone who would experience the experience of being able to listen to your own music when they hear our creations, as in the end, we create it to our own taste.


[Unintelligible section omitted]


There are certainly some very clear messages in your recent work, how would you describe the message conveyed by "Energy Warning"'?
[Ambiguous as to who replies] It is effectively sounding a warning as to the depletion of natural energy resources. The message is, however, usually secondary to the musical content. Another example is in "1969"', it is a manifestation of the era of innocence, love and peace that was at the heart of the era, but it was also laced with the various fears going into the future such as the cold war and nuclear threats and I thought about conveying a kind of strong additive sensation of neurosis that has been popularized in our culture since the 1970s Government publicity movies etc. Electromagnetic. There was a sense of helplessness for the future generation
It does seem that in that time period and with government Public Service announcements that there was a strong shift towards the pessimistic and the negative. I personally picked up on some of this in "A Beautiful Place Out in the Country"
Mike: The underlying message in both "1969"' and "A Beautiful Place Out in the Country" are rather similar. The general lifestyle changed quite dramatically around this point in history and structure and regulation were becoming evermore part of the lives of the general population. We are actually really interested to know of people's states of mind when listening to our music and whether it is felt as somewhat of a psychedelic experience to them.
Marcus: I think that being aware of one's internal thought processes and being aware of the way the world changes in its entirety and is constantly changing is a positive attribute to have. Good things are sometimes born from this state of mind, but also the negative can be born of these realizations, too. It seems so distant from what is considered to be common sense, such as leaving your body in a distorted form etc.
I think that the previous works that you have made, made one feel like something beautiful was being created in front of them, although sharp elements of Hip-Hop were used heavily and anger and aggression were felt more intensely. Regardless, the psychedelic feel in this work seems to be dramatically expanding upon the euphoria and warmth of your previous, What is your take on this?
Marcus: I think that it is a reasonable interpretation. I wanted to make something which isn't limited to feeling like it is a specific style of music within a particular time period. The psychedelic element is certainly there to a certain extent, but it comes more from the music surrounding psychedelics as opposed to the chemicals themselves. Geogaddi is host to a wide variety of styles.
"Diving Station" is a song that seems to stand out to me on this release, the surface of the track is only occupied by a lone piano. I am told that this is a song composed by Mike. Do you have a special or habitual way of composing your songs?
Mike: There are other songs making use of raw instruments and little else. This is a song that I clearly wanted to express as bittersweet or as something that, on the surface, is comfortable but has an ominous feel beneath. That contrast of emotion is something we focus heavily on. Nothing is ever polarized to either positive or negative.
For you, what kind of emotions and images are evoked by children?
Marcus: In the park, I am playing and my mother is present. The sun is shining and I remember never ever feeling as if I was home.
Mike: When I was five years old, putting a ten pence piece into the electric kid's car as I ran around on the inside.
May I ask as to why you chose to put the 1min and 44 seconds long silent track "Magic Window" at the end of your album, is there a significance?
Marcus: "Magic Window" is a phenomenon that creates an unusual frequency and influences the listener and their environment in a special way. On the Japanese edition of Geogaddi we have planted a bonus track "From One Source All Things Depend". It contains a variety of philosophical and religious sentiments...
Mike: This expresses the innocence of children who repeat the words and ideas of parents and teachers without much consideration for the true meaning or context. This can be seen as something both pleasant and slightly unnerving, on the other hand.
Children learn both the positive and negative from their elders in the vast majority of cases. Are you able to tell us anything of your interpretation of 'God' and what it represents to you?
Marcus: I have nothing real to say on the subject, although, if you don't belong to any particular religion, God may appear to be the same to you as it would if one were to make an independent idea of god, coming soley from their heart and autonomous ideas and sentiments.
With Geogaddi, I often feel that there is a dark and sometimes even agressive mood to your music, but the accumulation of the entire piece leaves me with a sense of optimism and peace. It is quite emotionally ambiguous...
Marcus: That is what we tend to like. To us it feels like something that initially gives you a sense of warmth but with the darker underside slowly creeping up on you and emerging from beneath. The underside is dark, the spirit is frozen. I think that because of the human element to our music, it is much easier to convey naturally ambiguous and contradicting emotion as one feels generally. Our music will always reflect certain periods of our life.
This is the final question. Do you feel that through Geogaddi you have had the ability to change a world that is cold, rigid and emotionally neutral, even to a minor extent?
Marcus: All music has the power to create change, however big or small. If it affected and gave something to every single person that had the chance to listen to it, I feel that I would have made a positive impact on the world - thank you.
Thank you to both of you for your time.

In An Imaginary Place Out In The Country

title In An Imaginary Place Out In The Country
author Ryotaro Wada, Ito Eisuke, Aoki Tatsuya, Iizuka Satoshi, Hashimoto Satoshi, Honma Satoshi
publication Cookie Scene
date 2002/03
issue 24
pages 09-15



"In An Imaginary Place Out In The Country" is an interview (in Japanese) by Ryotaro Wada, Ito Eisuke, et al. originally published Mar. 2002 in Cookie Scene magazine Number 24, pp. 09-15.

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This article needs to be translated. If you can provide a translation, please update this article!


Note: The original magazine was scanned to PDF. That PDF was sent to an online OCR tool to be converted to Japanese character text. The resulting text was translated on a basic level by Google Translate. That translation has been rewritten and interpreted into proper English by Toni Lanov.


Initially it was a drop of water. Small ripples flowed and gathered upon the surface and began to spread. Eventually Music Has the Right to Children was given to the world in 1998, released under both Warp and SKAM record labels. The Boards of Canada and the impact of Music Has the Right to Children was strongly felt. The brothers engineering direct pluronic music, ambient atmospheres and utilizing aspects of Hip-Hop, but all genres of music were used to propagate their unique sound. Words begin to fade into the music and become one with the sound, but they maintain their sense of direction and flow, a sound full of immersive vitality. The beauty of their sound proceeded to propagate and quickly spread throughout the world. Music Has the Right to Children had become an exceptionally prominent seller on the Indie charts in the UK. Their signature identity, their je ne sais quoi and otherworldly sounds were immediately recognizable but they didn't show you the whole picture with ease. Giving few interviews and rarely seen in photographs, their style and their activities were constantly wrapped in a veil. Sometimes referred to as 'Scotland's greatest mystery'.


Their sound continues to impact the music scene in a variety of ways. The methodology, sound texture being a duality of sonic mastery. IDM and post-rock were being sold readily with coined nicknames such as 'Nupsychedelic', but still, Boards of Canada's sound is something that doesn't fade, it continues to grow into something beautiful over time. Their sound is unique. Meeting and exceeding the high expectations of future releases that fans were left with after their 1998 release, Geogaddi (2002) saw the light of day. Sounds and phrases, everything is composed of great beauty. Great moments of euphoria are reached in the new release. Within lies a psychedelic world that only the brothers Sandison can create. In addition to this, the few that have seen them at a live setting have also told of the charming characteristics of their, often intimate, live performances. The perfect blend of both psychedelic video and sound entrances the listener with all senses.


I am overjoyed to be interviewing both Michael Sandison and Marcus Eoin, the masters behind the music, listening intently as I am aware of some of our readers anticipation and interest in hearing their story. Although I am not aware of how familiar they will be to Cookie Scene readers, I find that their sound alone leads me to want to know the story beneath. I tell myself: 'Before beginning this interview, I will want to recap their history'. Geogaddi was distributed to the press upon its release. I find myself wondering 'Are their four, or perhaps even five members of the group to create such a diverse sound?' The answer to this is now apparent. In 1995 the band and a group of their lucky friends gathered in Hexagon Sun studios in the Pentland Hills, Scotland and held an ordinance for their new release. Hexagon Sun is often the venue of small scale, closed audiovisual events for members of the collective. Their early releases were on a self-produced label 'Music70'. The very first release had been layered with melancholic melodies and rough rhythm sections.


[Unintelligible section omitted]


Boards of Canada utilized Hexagon Sun visuals in live settings, often accompanied by depressive and subliminal texts, gradually increasing the degree of audiovisual perfectionism.


Mike and Marcus immigrated between Scotland and southern Canada as children. The original form of Boards of Canada was based around a 1950's microphone, making experimental sounds using borrowed drums, synths and tape machines. Also utilizing 8mm cine-film video. A great deal of their influence comes from the soundtracks of educational documentaries, movies and music. The name 'Boards of Canada' coming from a Canadian documentary service: 'The Film Boards of Canada'. In 1996, Christ who was originally the group's 3rd member and helped to compose certain tracks on the Twoism EP, left the group leaving Mike and Marcus to continue. This year in London, the brothers performed a live show at an intimate Lighthouse venue on the River Thames, complete with super 8mm video for the duration. I attended this event, the 'Warp Lighthouse Party' seeing other artists from WarpRecords perform along with the Boards of Canada. Tortoise and Autechure are other notable appearances.


Hell Interface is the Board's side project and focuses mainly on intricate remix work, often sublime.


On February 2nd 2002, their long silence was ended and their second warp LP, Geogaddi emerged from the caverns and Warp Records gave away several releases for the press. Boards of Canada's name began to be well known in Japan. Four years ago, in the United Kingdom, the brothers appeared on the long established 'John peel radio show'. Peel referred to the broadcasting of it as 'one of his best sessions'.


Hexagon Sun began a regular event and referred to said event only as 'Redmoon'. People sat around a large bonfire akin to an old nursery rhyme. In February, I continued to scan over the UK indie chart Top 200.

This interview will comprise of three parts.Part one will be applying their roots, they tell me that they were releasing records from childhood.

Is the production company 'Film Boards of Canada' attached to your work aesthetically? Have you taken well to this and can you tell me anything about the namesake of your group?
Marcus: Yes. It was mostly educational programs. I look for things like that, even now. It revolves mostly around journeys that traverse the wilderness and also the fact that it is a documentation of said journey. The similarities can be heard in our music as it could be interpreted as a sonic journey. We also include themes such as environmental issues, which flow into the subject of such videos. Music that tended to exist in these documentaries didn't exist anywhere else and I find it truly inspiring


For us Japanese, the series of words that 'Boards of Canada' is, isn't. We have but a small idea of the image, the phrase is only applicable or understandable to those who's native language is English.


As children, you moved between the north of the UK and the south of Canada. Do you think this has had a considerable influence on the music?
[ambiguous as to which of the brothers replied] I feel that it had a great deal of influence yes. For example to the north, there is very sightly and beautiful nature and wildlife combined with sometimes brutal and barren landscapes. For children who live there, there is not much to do however. We were given little entertainment. Self sufficiency at the heart that is stirred up by the decision to try to create something was our real motivation
The band in its original form was born out of nature. Using a microphone and a few complimentary synthesizers. Was the potent music coming out of the United States at the time of your earlier experimental work a strong influence to you?
Marcus: We knew a handful of bands from that place and time. We always listened to the rough, loose kind of music. More so than music created by groups and bands purely to be listened to in and of itself at the time, we were influenced by an array of Canadian documentaries and their soundtracks during our time there
Mike: Our music emerged mostly from natural chance at that time. One month we were making a b-music production, another eight and we were making an amateur video production accompanied by our own music. This was fueled by the basic impulse to create simple videos for ourselves
What was the relationship between music and video for you at the time? And how do you perceive that now?
Marcus: I think there are various stages in relation to film and music in terms of our own productions. Many of our earlier home-made films were purely experimental. I feel it was in contrast to a lot of the music videos coming out that were typically a combination of both dancing and music, with little other visuals. There was also the commercial aspect of that.


Recently, one feels that the commercial music scene is coming back in a way, but there were always artists with a particular palette in terms of audiovisual creations. In many ways, the video is now viewed as one of the elements to music creation. In some cases, the videos were never intended to be reflective of the music, but were purposed for it in such a manor anyway.


Aphex Twin gathered a lot of attention for Warp Records in the earlier part of the 90's, and I feel that Boards of Canada's music is also a strong force within that label and drawing more and more attention to it. There is an emerging electronic scene in Japan now, and worldwide.
Marcus: Terms like 'Electronica' and 'IDM' are very new ones. There are many artists out there and for many of them, they are only influenced by the past four or five year's worth of music. On the other hand, in our case, we find ourselves influenced by an array of different music from different times. We also take inspiration from music of many different scenes. Even thinking of my favourite groups, they are generally unique, doing things with a sense of self sufficiency and independence.
[On the subject of Redmoon nights. Ambiguous as to who was speaking] It took place by a 16th century Monastery, mostly debris, with a partially Collapsed roof, a truly amazing place... Hidden in the forest, it became a feeling guarded by nature. Occasionally there are as many as a hundred people, this turned into fifty as the bonfire gradually turned to embers and with lights and candles, people came inside the monastery. A mysterious outdoor experience. A perfect place shrouded in western pine
Can you tell me as to which musical equipment you prefer to use, what is your favorite piece of musical hardware?
Marcus: We write songs in an entirely different way every time so sticking to the same equipment and instrumentation would damage that experience and ability to create a new atmosphere for every track. We like to create our own sounds, for example, by sampling the sound of a container of soup etc.
In making your work, who takes on the specific roles?
Marcus: Mike has become a source of inspiration for the core of the songs, he always has unique melodies and strange and wonderful ideas
Mike: Marcus' strengths are a great combination of musical experience. He is a great music producer and also the anti-producer in a way. A kind of guru in many ways.
If you had the ability to travel through time, to what time period would you see yourselves instinctively traveling?
[Ambiguous as to who responds] Future advances in technology or astonishing progress for sciences and society is not the most impressive positive side to human development and the future
Mike: Specific events and movies gave particular impact in making Geogaddi
If big-budget films only had musical arrangements by Boards of Canada... Do you make any movies? Who do you assign the acting roles to?
Marcus: I feel the answer to this question might be a little too revealing.
What impressions do you get from dreams, is your music ever inspired by images and sounds seen and heard in your sleep?
Marcus: As a child I would often dream and look forward to dreaming, it is true of today also. I remember one, this guy and his family together in Canada. They parked their car and visited the single story church next door, the family entered, I did not go with them. There was a nice green lawn and I had a walk around the building. I went around the back and fell onto orange barbed wire. The first King of the United Kingdom appeared. He placed his sword against my neck and dragged me up to the guillotine behind the building. At the same time as the guillotine, my body had morphed into a stone statue. I felt awful. Another dream I had had this early 80s ominous feel. I woke up in the middle of the night and rand down the stairs, I looked into the hallway below and saw red transparent organisms there. There was a guy with an ET feeling about him, red or orange light shone onto his body. I was screaming as I was being sucked into him, etc.
What sentiments do you find to be most beautiful and what are your concerns in and of this world?
Marcus: Environmental issues are something I hold close and have strong beliefs in. The freedom of self-determinism is also one that I feel more people should be aware of and advocating.
Regarding creatures of non-human origin on this Earth. There are separate reactions for instance that of the fish is one that is rather instinctive and they have little awareness of other species. When I listen to Geogaddi, I hear the entire seed of time including the human race, and within each species a boundary exists as akin to one I would imagine in a fictional world.
Mike: I think you are on to something there. I think we try to subtly imply that Geogaddi is the world. A warm mixture divided on the concept of chaos. As if you are viewing something in a state of furious drunkenness, with that particular gaze. Fish and Humans help to form the hexagonal mirror image of the world, as does the presence of birds and all wildlife. It all forms the aforementioned mixture of a chaotic but intricate world.
Do you think the meaning that people put into the album title Geogaddi affects the way a listener perceives the music?
Marcus: I think it really depends on the listener. Many listen and think consciously about its impact. Some will inevitably reach the same conclusions that we do. It is certainly ambiguous for a reason but that isn't to say that many won't come to the same conclusions
Will people's perceptions of your previous work affect the way they hear Geogaddi? On the subject of your previous work, there has even been a song called Turquoise Hexagon Sun. I don't want to call this your 'decisive album'. I think it is always important to have the frame of mind that your best work is yet to be made. In a way, this album serves as a way to purify the former idea of your music and the ruthless categorization that inevitably comes from it. You always defy the listener's expectations. I sometimes feel that your music's purpose is to program or control the listener through suggestive sounds. I feel that Geogaddi is completely different to your previous work Music Has the Right to Children and the EP released two years ago In a Beautiful Place out in the Country. From these phrases we gather a human, a natural, sentiment. I really feel the attitude of your new album is very different, utilizing twisted samples and distortion
Mike: Distant, yet direct. A twist. Distortion is also applied much more liberally throughout Geogaddi. We human beings live in harmony with one nature. I never intend to create an intrusive attitude towards the listener. We also include plenty of humor as and when we wish. There is plenty to find.
Is expressing humanity and nature in music incompatible with using electronic equipment to do so?
Mike: With our music we are looking to make a strong contradiction. I feel that natural and electronic are one, however. I often feel an inner conflict on the matter. In a sense, all things like electronics and technology are, after all, an extension of the 'natural'.
Marcus: We sometimes take inspiration from urban environments, too. We personally tend to avoid the subject in our music. There are little things though like reverberation that can only be created by sounds echoing through the streets of a city. We prefer to replace the cold atmosphere of modern electronics with the more traditional. We like to think of our sound as something warm and perhaps forceful. This is reflected very much in our video
And as we have been focusing on current activities, the last part of our interview will focus more on future activities. I have heard much talk of potential projects for the future. It was over three years since your last LP...
Mike: There are actually an awful lot of songs that were not used for Geogaddi. An awful lot that have not been used. We'll have fun creating the new album, our lifestyle warrants that. You might hear a few of the unused tracks making it to the production line in future.
What technology do you use on a daily basis and what is your view of technology generally?
Marcus: We live in the midst of raw nature, breathing the fullest fresh air. For thousands of years, humans used technology in order to better their own lives, but for the first time in history we are at an exceptional place where technology is effectively being made for itself. I think that what is most dangerous for modern society is that technology has lost sight of realistic goals. Millions of people are involved in the development of weapons in one hand, and on the other hand others are involved in the development of equipment to improve the lives of people who are most disadvantaged in society.
Boards of Canada's music, especially the newer, the sound leaves a strong impression. Many listeners also feel that they have to find a meaning 'between the lines' when reading the titles. Many also felt that there was something to hear in the silence during "Magic Window". Was the implementation of that 'gap of sound' "Magic Window" important to you?
Marcus: I like to treat it as a space. Its strange with an album focusing so heavily on the dynamics and intricacies of sound to suddenly be confronted with silence.
I also feel that there is something very unique about your usage of words. "1969" comes to mind and many other passages of music with semi-audible words that are almost on a subliminal level. Do you anticipate people trying to make any sense of these words and phrases as they are listening?
Mike: I don't think that combined vocal is required to create a good melody, they are mostly secondary to the music. It isn't always completely clear what is being sung. Some of the instruments are regarded as 'space' or 'silence' is an important factor in not over-saturating a track. With some artists, vocals and one instrument is all that is needed to entrance you such as with the Cocteau Twins. You don't always have to understand what is being talked about to find beauty in it. Vocals are an instrument in and of themselves.
Boards of Canada's purpose is to make music. What is your process? Do you build songs from interesting sounds that you have created in reverse sometimes?
Marcus: Sometimes occasionally you can decide the title and the theme before you make a song and try to create a sound that suits it. '"Gyroscope"' is an example of this and was formed as a result of a dream. The track directly reflected that of the sonic qualities of my dream, actually. A lot of the time we build tracks around an interesting sound or basis, it becomes the focal point and we build the track around it.
I recall after playing "1969" the sample that repeats "1969", in the sunshine...' will remain circulating around my head long after the song is over. I feel that many of your records reference the psychedelic movement of the 60s. Do you consider yourselves hippies? (laughs)
[Ambiguous as to who responds] I think that artists feel a sense of intimacy in the country. At that time (60's) I think fields and nature represented a certain sense of freedom. I also feel that psychedelic and hippie music has its roots in country music and was effectively an adaptation of such. They were tributaries and offshoots of the main river that is country music. It eventually became a fashionable existence to identify as a 'hippie'. We empathize and relate to the fundamental ethics of that stream of music, though.
Do you think that aspects of your daily life reflect your ethics and roots as musicians?
There is a certain aspect of lesser known modern music that serves as an antidote to modern pop charts. It is easy to simply make laptop music but there are no true feelings that reside within it and it is often difficult to find any warmth in. We have a certain appreciation for bands that can utilize musical instruments live despite Boards of Canada relying more heavily on technology.
Many people compare you to certain groups such as Pink Floyd, Brian Eno, Autechure, Godspeed You Black Emperor! etc. How do you feel about this and how do you feel about these artists?
[Ambiguous as to who replies] For Pink Floyd, they generally don't compare us. There isn't so much to hear in their early works. The same can be said about Brian Eno. Some of his works we've certainly enjoyed though despite not listening to all of his works. We adore and are well connected with Autechure. It feels like a vast difference between our sounds though. I tend to focus on music to surpass limits of rhythm and electronic sounds, the core of our sound is generally a melody. With God Speed we have also listened to a small quantity of their work but by no means all of it and I would like to express the greatest respect for Darrel, also my friend. He is probably one of the nicest guys in the people who are doing electronic music.
You guys are on SKAM as well as Warp Records...
Mike: SKAM, they are not affected by the commercial thing. A 'do-it-yourself' atmosphere that you have to stick to to a certain extent. Andy Maddox (head of SKAM records) is, while being a layed-back person, someone that would come up with ideas to realize that you want to do immediately. I think we just wanted to feel that we were running our own creation. Warp is more of a 'big label' type situation but I also feel that we are one large family in music.
You were also working under the name 'Hell Interface' ?
Marcus: We are. We made a song that is sampled from the basic elements of a rather famous song, in order to avoid any legal trouble, we thought it would be best to release it under the pseudonym.
The John Peel Sessions were also a great release, we don't yet have any recordings other than that of seeing you perform in a live setting. Do you consider yourself to be more expressive through live works or do you tend towards the studio side of the situation?
Mike: Thank you! We spend several months preparing for a performance, mostly because of the visual side of things and using our 8mm film footage. Trying to accurately time psychedelic imagery with the music and we use some unusual effects
Do you see yourselves ever performing in Japan?
Marcus: Really, we have actually wanted to do so. Several times we were invited to play in japan, in fact. However, its not like we have a 'This year I want to do a gig' sentiment very often.
Mike: We've already begun working on the new album so we have plenty to keep ourselves busy with. After that, perhaps, we will complete a video and consider a live event.
Thank you, Boards of Canada, Thank you!



Worte sind wie Nadeln, auf jeden Fall gefĂ€hrlich fĂŒr schöne, bunte Luftballons

title Worte sind wie Nadeln, auf jeden Fall gefĂ€hrlich fĂŒr schöne, bunte Luftballons
author Hendrik Kröz
publication Intro Magazine
date 2002/03
issue No.92
pages 32-34



"Worte sind wie Nadeln, auf jeden Fall gefĂ€hrlich fĂŒr schöne, bunte Luftballons" is an interview (in German) by Hendrik Kröz originally published Mar. 2002 in Intro magazine No. 92, pp. 32-34.

This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.

Worte sind wie Nadeln, auf jeden Fall gefĂ€hrlich fĂŒr schöne, bunte Luftballons


Boards Of Canada kultivieren seit jeher ein Image des Verschwindens. Sie brĂŒten jahrelang ĂŒber einer Platte, ĂŒberreichen das kostbare Geschenk dann in aller Heimlichkeit und ziehen sich wieder komplett zurĂŒck. Fotos gibt es keine, Interviews sind rar, und auch live bekommt man sie sehr selten zu Gesicht - das letzte Mal im April 2001 beim All Tomorrow's Parties Festival in Camber Sands, Sussex. Damit lenken Boards Of Canada die Rezeption auf ihre plastisch anmutende, im Niemandsland von Traum und Suggestion operierende Musik. Die Illusion einer persönlichen Verlinkung wird fĂŒr jene, die in ihren Bann geraten, durch nichts getrĂŒbt - weder durch Einblicke ins Privatleben von Mike Sandison und Marcus Eoin noch durch andere Störfaktoren wie Events mit vielen tausend Menschen. Angenehmer Nebeneffekt: Es entsteht ein hĂŒbscher Mythos. An diesem wird mit dem zweiten Album "Geogaddi" munter weitergebastelt.



RĂŒckblende. Schottland 1984

Mike und Marcus sitzen in ihrem kleinen Studio in der NĂ€he von Edinburgh und nehmen zusammen mit Freunden Soundtracks fĂŒr ihre Super-8-Filme und Videocollagen auf. Hauptinspiration dafĂŒr sind TV-Dokus der National Film Board Of Canada. Nicht die einzige ObskuritĂ€t in ihrem Privatarchiv - die beiden sammeln viel, was im Fernsehen kommt -, aber jene, die ihrer Band den Namen geben soll. Es sind die letzten Tage des Exotendaseins fĂŒr elektronische Musiker - und so plagen sie sich mit den unzĂ€hligen Rock-Coverbands ihrer Stadt herum. Kein langer Kampf, denn der Paradigmenwechsel kam bekanntlich schneller, als diese es sich wĂŒnschten. Plötzlich gehörten die Schwarzlicht-Diskos der Vergangenheit an und wurden von hippiesken Outdoor-Happenings abgelöst. Boards Of Canada fanden sich inmitten Gleichgesinnter wieder - was sie damals noch zu schĂ€tzen wussten. Doppelt. Und dreifach. Mit ihrer Kombination von Filmprojektion, Kinderschallplatten und monotonen Beats waren sie oft bis zum Sonnenaufgang dabei. Aber es sollte mehr als der Soundtrack fĂŒr einen Augenblick sein, deshalb grĂŒndeten sie flugs ein Label (music70) und schickten Tapes mit dem Namen "twoism" auf die Reise. Ganze sechs Jahre spĂ€ter landete eines davon bei skam records, dem Label von Autechre. Deren Sean Booth zögerte nicht lange und holte all das an Geschwindigkeit nach, was in dieser Geschichte bisher verbummelt wurde: Er fuhr noch am selben Tag gen Norden, um Boards Of Canada fĂŒr eine 12-Inch zu verpflichten. Allerdings hatte die Sache einen Haken: Die Band musste die Produktion der 500er-Auflage selbst bezahlen. Wenn das fĂŒr sie in Ordnung ginge, so Booth damals, wĂŒrde skam die Kosten fĂŒr die zweite EP, "Hi Scores", ĂŒbernehmen. Es ging. Danach war aber erst mal Schluss mit Highspeed. Das erste Album sollte erst 1998 erscheinen - dafĂŒr aber mit einem besonders pfiffigen Titel: "Music Has The Right To Children".



TraumfÀnger

"Music Has The Right To Children" hatte es in sich. Um das zu spĂŒren, durfte man sich allerdings nicht vom Kontext blenden lassen - das Label Warp bzw. Vergleiche mit Plaid oder Autechre waren in diesem Fall nur vage Richtungsbestimmungen. Wenn es einem gelang, diese zu ignorieren, malte das Album als großzĂŒgige Gegenleistung ein Fragezeichen in den Himmel. Ein seltsames Wechselspiel aus AbgrĂŒnden und Euphorie, verknĂŒpft zu einem organischen Ganzen, war ihnen da gelungen. In sich irgendwie schizophren. Aber funktional. Und die Klangmixtur war betörend: kaleidoskopartige, seltsam eiernde Synthietexturen, simple Melodien und langsame, in minutiöser Kleinarbeit gezimmerte Beats. Das I-TĂŒpfelchen aber waren die darauf verwendeten Stimmen, deren Bearbeitung zum Markenzeichen der Band werden sollte. Denn Boards Of Canada interessiert nicht die Stimme in ihrer direkten VerfĂŒgbarkeit, sondern ihre Verfremdung - gepitcht, gescratcht und gecuttet, gerade so, wie es die Beats verlangen. Musik zur Zeit - und doch wie aus einer anderen, vergangenen. Ein passender Vergleich: "Strawberry Fields Forever", John Lennons Hommage an seine Kindergartenzeit. In Abgrenzung zu den meisten anderen Veröffentlichungen unserer Tage geht es bei Boards Of Canada nicht um den oberflĂ€chlichen Reiz, sondern darum, die Musik tief im GedĂ€chtnis der Hörer einzunisten, damit sie zu gegebener Zeit zurĂŒckkehrt - als musikalischer Alien, der wundervolle DreiklĂ€nge im Kopf entstehen lĂ€sst. Da wird aus einem Kinderlachen schon mal ein Sonnenstrahl. Nicht nur in unseren TagtrĂ€umen, sondern auch nachts, wenn wir nicht schlafen können, weil der Vollmond ins Fenster leuchtet. In diesen Momenten offenbaren sich allerdings auch die AbgrĂŒnde dieser Musik. Angst fressen Euphorie. Oder wie es der amerikanische Musikjournalist Steve Nicholls (vom xlr8r-Magazin) so schön auf den Punkt brachte: "It was like the tantalizingly elusive parts of a beautiful dream that you struggle to grasp after waking." Boards Of Canada hatten auch fĂŒr mich immer etwas Morgentau-artiges. Wie einst Carpenter schicken sie einen unschuldig wirkenden Nebel auf die Menschen zu, der diese erst sanft umgibt, bevor sie an ihm festkleben. Dann werden plötzlich auch andere, weniger einladende Facetten sichtbar. Und warum? Sie wollen uns manipulieren. Und das funktioniert auf ihrem ersten Album perfekt: Zuerst wird man mit den Licht- und Schattenspielen, die alles beherrschen, vertraut gemacht. Dann tauchen Nebelhörner und geisterhafte Voice-Samples auf, geraten in die Speichen der Beats - die Maschine kommt in Fahrt. Ein leises Interlude, diffuse dunkle Nebelschwaden kriechen hin und her, ein seltsames Rattern fĂ€hrt dazwischen, dann der Break - ein weit vorne stehendes schnarrendes GerĂ€usch, nur ganz kurz, prĂ€gnant wie ein Stromschlag. Das reicht, um die beabsichtigte Reaktion auszulösen: Entsetzen. Und weiter geht die Klangreise. Eine kalte Rhythmusspur schiebt sich vom Rand ins Geschehen, kommt nĂ€her und nĂ€her. Doch kurz bevor das Monster zupackt, fĂ€llt plötzlich Tageslicht durchs Fenster, und die Wand aus vergilbten Fotos, quĂ€lenden Erinnerungen und Schreckgespenstern verschwindet. Jetzt ist man bereit fĂŒr große majestĂ€tische Hits - die mit "Roygbiv", "Aquarius" und "Turquoise Hexagon Sun" gleich reihenweise vorhanden sind.



Warten auf Erlösung

Boards Of Canada sind keine Band fĂŒr den schnellen Kick. Es wĂ€re geradezu frevlerisch, so etwas bei ihnen zu suchen. Um beim Bild zu bleiben: Man kann die Band als Dauerinfusion sehen, von der man nicht mehr loskommt. Je lĂ€nger man dran hĂ€ngt, je mehr man sich mit ihr auseinandersetzt, desto spannender wird der Trip. Irgendwo zwischen den Beats haben die beiden ein Geheimnis versteckt, eine ganz spezielle Mechanik. Wo diese sich genau befindet, ja, was sie ĂŒberhaupt ist, sie selbst wollten es uns damals nicht erzĂ€hlen - waren noch nicht mal gewillt, neue Hinweise zu geben. Das Studio sollte fĂŒr eine viel zu lange Zeit ruhen. Bis 2001 genau geschrieben. Da erschien "In A Beautiful Place Out In The Country", eine EP aus himmelblauem Vinyl. Das war angemessen, denn die StĂŒcke klangen so sanft wie das Rauschen von BlĂ€ttern im Sommerwind. Trotzdem hing das (schon fĂŒr viel frĂŒher angekĂŒndigte) neue Album wie ein reifer Apfel am Baum, wollte aber nicht runterfallen. Das GerĂŒcht, Boards Of Canada sĂ€ĂŸen in einem Bunker in den schottischen Highlands, um "Geogaddi" den letzten Schliff zu geben, wurde von Warp zwar bestĂ€tigt, mehr drang aber nicht nach außen. In den die Band betreffenden Newsgroups im Internet tippten sich Nerds die Finger wund, und manche, die einen neuen Track aus dem Netz gefischt hatten, erzĂ€hlten den anderen davon (ohne Angabe der entsprechenden URL natĂŒrlich). Das las sich dann so: "Track starts off with a typical BOC keyboard, then the beat comes in with bongos playing out of time, voices emerge from the depths of the song, which ends with radio interference sound." RĂ€tsel ĂŒber RĂ€tsel. Das ließ die Zeit des Wartens wenigstens kurzweilig werden. Irgendwie ist das ja auch schön, dass es noch Bands gibt, deren Alben nicht nach dreimaligem Hören im Regal landen, sondern jahrelange Auseinandersetzung ermöglichen, ja, fordern. Dieses fĂŒr Boards Of Canada typische Dranbleiben am Backkatalog wird ja auch mit diesem Artikel aufgegriffen. Und eines der schönsten RĂ€tsel vom letzten Track auf "Music Has The Right To Children" - dort hatte eine sachlich klingende Frauenstimme (Ă€hnlich wie die auf Tribe Called Quests "Midnight Marauders") vor einem Gerichtsverfahren gewarnt, das den LiebhaberInnen dieser Platte aufgrund bestimmter Inhalte irgendwann mal drohen könnte. Hmm ...



Mehr als nur Musik

Boards Of Canada betonen die Doppelbödigkeit ihrer Musik stets durch Streuung bestimmter Subtexte, die vortĂ€uschen, SchlĂŒssel zum VerstĂ€ndnis zu sein. Das Gemunkel ĂŒber versteckte, möglicherweise sublim wirkende Botschaften begleitet jede Veröffentlichung. Auf der letzten EP ist zum Beispiel in den Rillen ein Ausschnitt aus einem Interview mit Amo Bishop Roden, der FĂŒhrerin der Branch Davidians, einer christlichen Gemeinschaft, die in der NĂ€he von Waco, Texas wohnt, versteckt. Zuerst versteht man nichts, dann plötzlich den Satz "... come and live in a beautiful place out in the country." Das könnte auch das Lebensmotto von Boards Of Canada sein, von wegen sein Heil in der absoluten Einsamkeit der Natur finden - freilich (bzw. hoffentlich) ohne die sonstigen AktivitĂ€ten der Sekte; diese ist ja vor allem durch ein schlimmes Blutbad berĂŒhmt geworden. "Geogaddi" (geo = Erde, gaddi = Kind [auf indisch]), das neue Album von Boards Of Canada, treibt das Spiel mit den Andeutungen auf die Spitze. Aufgenommen wurde es in einem alten Luftschutzbunker, doch ĂŒber die BeweggrĂŒnde, einen solch finsteren Ort zum Musikmachen aufzusuchen, hĂŒllt man sich in Schweigen. DafĂŒr ist das begleitende Artwork - verwackelte Aufnahmen von kleinen Kindern, dunklen Engeln und Kaleidoskop-Klimbim im Photoshop-Style - recht beredt in seiner pyramidalen Endzeitsymbolik. Auf dem Cover schwebt ein Mensch mit ausgebreiteten Armen vor einem Sonnenuntergang, der aussieht, als sei er der letzte auf diesem Planeten. Und die GesamtlĂ€nge des Albums betrĂ€gt - na klar - exakt 66 Minuten und 6 Sekunden. Sandison und Eoin sind erklĂ€rtermaßen AnhĂ€nger der Illuminatus-Trilogie von Robert Anton Wilson und Robert Shea (1975). Und bestimmt haben sie auch Kenneth Angers surrealen Horrorklassiker "Lucifer Rising" (1974/76) auf Video. In diesem gibt es eine Szene, die Bobby Beausoleil (Lucifer) in der Badewanne zeigt; der Raum ist in verschossen tĂŒrkisfarbenes Licht getaucht, und in der Mitte steht eine dunkelrote Pyramide. Legt man die Cover von "Music Has The Right To Children" und "Geogaddi" nebeneinander, ergibt sich haargenau dieselbe Farbkombination. Nur ein Zufall? Vielleicht. Aber es wĂŒrde schon zu den beiden Verschwörungstheoretikern passen. Die Beatles-Nummer, Paul sterben zu lassen, lieferte ihnen einst die Blaupause fĂŒr so manch andere Verschwörungsidee. Und man kann sich gut vorstellen, wieviel Spaß es Thomas Pynchons kleinen BrĂŒdern macht, die Spuren zu legen, die von ihren Exegeten in den Newsgroups - berechenbar as berechenbar could be - dankbar fĂŒr uferlose Diskurse aufgegriffen werden. So wird private Feldforschung zum leckeren Köder: Die Gleichgesinnten hat man sowieso auf seiner Seite, und die Misstrauischen, die zunĂ€chst auf Abwehr schalten, werden sich - genau aus diesem Grund - schon irgendwann auf die Suche nach Links zwischen Musik und Verschwörungsfiktion machen. Oder ist alles doch viel weniger clever konstruiert? Könnte ja auch sein, dass Mike und Marcus schlicht und ergreifend Fans sind. Auch gut, dann haben sie ganz ohne Hintergedanken und quasi als angenehmen Nebeneffekt einen Metadiskurs in Gang gesetzt, der nicht mehr zu bremsen ist - zumindest, solange sie sich so wortkarg geben.



Kaffee, Kuchen und Geogaddi

Warp und Zomba haben zur Listening-Session von "Geogaddi" geladen - da die Band untersagt hat, vor der Veröffentlichung Promos zu verschicken. Fick das System. Einmal mehr - auch wenn es VerkĂ€ufe kostet. Wie auch immer: Im Roten Salon, Berlin, gibt es Kaffee und Kuchen. Und Musik. NatĂŒrlich stilsicher inszeniert. Die VorhĂ€nge werden zugezogen, ein mysteriöses Dia wird eingelegt, und die Show beginnt. Die Spannung steigt. Beim Einstieg verzichten Boards Of Canada diesmal auf das softe Einschmeicheln, statt dessen fĂŒllt ein gewaltiges Dröhnen den Raum. Mit "Music Is Math", dem zweiten StĂŒck, kommen die Beats dazu - unglaublich, wie filigran diese wieder zusammengebastelt sind. Und beĂ€ngstigend, wie dunkel das alles klingt. Die Stimmen kreisen in einer Art Echoschleife durch die Luft, als ob sie keinen Ausgang finden. Und auch drĂŒben, im klanglich angelegten Park bei den Kindern, stimmt irgendwas nicht - die Orgel vom Leierkastenmann kratzt und knirscht ("Beware The Friendly Stranger"). Der Kaffee schwappt kalt in den Tassen. Keine Zeit zum Trinken. Oder besser: keine Ruhe. Gut, dass wir uns nicht selbst Gedanken machen mĂŒssen. Boards Of Canada nehmen uns das ab, liefern uns die passende Assoziation: Eine TV-Stimme erzĂ€hlt etwas von heißer Lava, die ins Meer fließt. Zeit fĂŒr einen Stimmungswechsel - und einen ersten Hit: "Julie And Candy" biegt mit seiner dahingepfiffenen Melodie und dem euphorisierenden Popflair fast schon erschreckend gutgelaunt um die Ecke. Auch diesmal gibt es wieder Voice-Samples en masse - die ganze Zeit wird irgendwas erklĂ€rt, verkĂŒndet und gefragt, ganz so, als wollten Boards Of Canada eine große leere Sprechblase durch Überdruck zum Platzen bringen. Erstaunlich, wie es ihnen gelingt, dass dieser Overkill trotzdem nach Musik klingt. Und manchmal gar nach Pop. Beispielsweise, wenn sich bei "1969" eine nymphenhafte Stimme aus dem Kommunikations-Dickicht schĂ€lt und einfach zu singen beginnt. Anders als bei "Music Has The Right To Children" gehen die StĂŒcke diesmal nicht ineinander ĂŒber, sondern sind durch Pausen getrennt. Das sorgt fĂŒr Suspense. Die Gesamtstruktur von "Geogaddi" ist dagegen dieselbe: LĂ€ngere Exkursionen ins Beat-Entertainment wechseln sich mit atmosphĂ€rischen Zwischenepisoden ab: Kinderspielplatz, Meer ("The Beach At Redpoint") und Himmel ("Sunshine Recorder"). Auf "Geogaddi" gibt es euphorische, aber auch verstörende Momente. Der Trick besteht wie immer darin, ganz allmĂ€hlich die LautstĂ€rke zu erhöhen bzw. Sounds unvermittelt auf den Hörer loszulassen. Bei "Over The Horizon Radar" hat man den plastischen Eindruck, von monströsen RotorblĂ€ttern bedrĂ€ngt zu werden, und die mechanischen Beats von "Gyroscope" (das fĂŒr die Ausrichtung von Raumstationen zustĂ€ndige GerĂ€t) beginnen irgendwann regelrecht, Löcher in die Luft zu hacken - Boards Of Canada haben auf "Geogaddi" viel mit Raumklang gearbeitet. "The Devil Is In The Details", der Satanstrack mit Ansage, enttĂ€uscht dagegen: Mönchschor, mystisches Wassertröpfeln und die Schreie des dunklen Kindes klingen eher nach B-Movie als nach Endzeithorror. Soll das alles sein? Nein. Als ich schon nicht mehr damit gerechnet habe, kommt er doch noch, dieser unendlich sehnsĂŒchtige Loop, der als Vorbote von "Geogaddi" auf der BOC-Webseite zu hören war. Alles ist wieder im Lot. Das StĂŒck heißt "A Is To B As B Is To C". Da hĂ€tten wir es wieder, das verflixte Dreieck.



... noch Fragen?

Wie nicht anders zu erwarten war, halten sich Boards Of Canada mit Kommentaren zu "Geogaddi" Ă€ußerst bedeckt. Ein persönliches GesprĂ€ch sei nicht erwĂŒnscht, ließen sie via Plattenfirma wissen. Wenn unbedingt nötig, wĂŒrden sie fĂŒnf ausgewĂ€hlten Magazinen E-Mail-Interviews gewĂ€hren. Um es kurz zu machen: Es war nötig. Auch wenn bereits im Vorfeld klar war, dass sie nicht unbedingt aus dem NĂ€hkĂ€stchen plaudern wĂŒrden. Denn Worte sind wie Nadeln, auf jeden Fall gefĂ€hrlich fĂŒr schöne, bunte Luftballons. Und deswegen geht das auch in Ordnung fĂŒr uns.



Habt ihr spezielle Erwartungen bezĂŒglich der Wirkung von "Geogaddi"?
Marcus: Wir hoffen, dass man soviel rausziehen kann, wie wir reingelegt haben. Wenn wir an unserer Musik arbeiten, stellen wir uns nicht wirklich jemanden vor, der am anderen Ende dieses Prozesses losgeht, die Platte kauft und sie hört. Wenn die Leute sich darin so verlieren können wie wir, ist das ein Erfolg. Trotzdem bedeutet es uns - paradoxerweise - sehr viel, wenn die Leute wirklich mögen, was wir machen.
Mir kam es so vor, als gÀbe es auf "Geogaddi" mehr Voice-Samples als auf jeder anderen Boards-Of-Canada-Platte zuvor. Es klingt, als hÀttet ihr versucht, alle GerÀusche, die ein Mund erzeugen kann, zu sammeln. Warum seid ihr so fasziniert von der menschlichen Stimme?
Mike: Weil sie ein faszinierendes Instrument ist. Niemand fragt nach der Verwendung von Gesang auf Platten von anderen Leuten - in herkömmlicher Popmusik gehört sie einfach dazu. Wir versuchen, Stimmen dazu zu bringen, unnatĂŒrliche Dinge zu machen, weil wir das interessanter finden. Ich denke, es fĂŒhlt sich so an, als hörte man einen normalen Song, aber dann gibt es da eine Art Interferenz im Kopf, in Gang gesetzt durch die Musik.
Gibt es einen Grundgedanken, der euer DebĂŒtalbum "Music Has The Right To Children", die EP "In A Beautiful Place Out In The Country" und "Geogaddi" miteinander verbindet?
Mike: Wir wollen, dass die Platten wie eine Reise sind, die dich Schritt fĂŒr Schritt von der realen Welt wegbringt. Ich denke, mit "Geogaddi" bewegen wir uns weiter in Richtung Traumwelt. Man könnte es sich so vorstellen, dass wir auf dieser Platte ein beschĂ€digtes menschliches Gehirn wieder in Gang setzen und wahllos bruchstĂŒckhafte Erinnerungen an Musik und KlĂ€nge triggern, wĂ€hrend es wegdriftet und zu trĂ€umen beginnt.
Euer erstes Album war eine verfĂŒhrerische Einladung, in Gedanken die eigene Kindheit wieder aufzusuchen. Wo liegt fĂŒr euch die Verbindung zwischen "geo" und "gaddi"?
Marcus: Das ist zwar nur eine mögliche Interpretation des Titels, aber ich wĂŒrde schon sagen, dass unsere Musik einer Gedankenwelt entspringt, die auf unschuldigere Zeiten unseres Lebens zurĂŒckblickt. Wenn man erwachsen wird, verliert man einen Teil der Liebe, die man als Kind fĂŒr die Welt empfindet.
Boards Of Canada haben viele Gesichter. Beispielsweise besteht ein großer Unterschied darin, ob man eure Musik tagsĂŒber hört oder mitten in der Nacht. Welche Rolle spielen LichtverhĂ€ltnisse in eurer Musik?
Mike: Ich denke, es gibt in unserer Musik eine Balance zwischen hellen, positiven und reflektierenden Momenten und solchen, die eher angespannt und dunkel sind. Ich weiß nicht, ob das zum Hörer durchdringt, aber wenn ich Musik mache, muss ich viel vom Himmel sehen. Was nicht heißen soll, dass die dunkleren Momente in der Musik jetzt auch im Dunkeln entstanden sind oder so, es ist einfach eine Mischung aus beidem. Normalerweise mache ich eher tagsĂŒber Musik, vielleicht brauche ich die Photosynthese dafĂŒr ... Marcus macht aus verschiedenen GrĂŒnden lieber nachts Musik.
Das Wort "Morgentau" hat im Deutschen zwei Bedeutungen: erst mal der Tau, der morgens fĂ€llt, und dann noch die kleine Pflanze desselben Namens. Sie sieht hĂŒbsch aus und fĂ€ngt kleine Insekten, die sich, von ihrem Anblick angezogen, auf ihre BlĂ€tter setzen. Ich finde, das ist ein passendes Bild fĂŒr die Catchyness eurer Musik ...
Marcus: Ich mag dieses Bild, weil ich unsere Musik auch so sehe: schön von außen, von innen betrachtet aber dunkel und komplex.
Wie wĂŒrdet ihr eure Beziehung zur Traumwelt beschreiben?
Mike: Sie ist eine große Inspiration fĂŒr mich, ich schreibe oft Melodien, wenn ich trĂ€ume. Neulich hatte ich einen seltsamen Traum: Ich stand nachts mit meiner Freundin auf einer Straße, und plötzlich flog ein sechs Meter Einhorn ĂŒber unsere Köpfe hinweg, landete auf einem Feld hinter ein paar BĂŒschen, verwandelte sich in eine große Nadel und schoss senkrecht in den Nachthimmel. Was hat so was zu bedeuten?
Vielleicht, dass ihr angewandte Surrealisten seid?
Marcus: Ich vermute, dass viel von dem, was wir musikalisch machen, surreal ist. Wir lassen uns von surrealen Ereignissen und Visionen inspirieren. Manchmal, wenn man etwas missversteht, das irgend jemand sagt, kann es eine ganz neue Bedeutung bekommen, die komplett surreal, aber wundervoll ist. Ich denke, dass das unseren Zugang zur Musik gut auf den Punkt bringt - wir wollen, dass alles ein bisschen seltsam klingt, wie Musik aus einer anderen Dimension.


Unter www.intro.de verlosen wir 5 exemplare des neuen Boards of Canada-Albums "Blue Window"


El Cielo Herido

title El Cielo Herido
author David Broc
publication Mondo Sonoro
date 2002/03
issue 83
pages 28-29



"El Cielo Herido" is an interview (in Spanish) by David Broc originally published Mar. 2002 in Mondo Sonoro magazine Issue 83, pp.28-29.

This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.

El Cielo Herido


Culpables, en parte, de la reconversiĂłn musical de Radiohead, Boards of Canada siguen atacando el vacĂ­o desde la modernidad, dos conceptos que a dĂ­a de hoy acostumbran A ir de la mano, pero que en la propuesta del dĂșo britĂĄnico halla su definitiva contraposiciĂłn. “Geogaddi” (Warp/SatĂ©lite K, 02), su nuevo disco, araña lĂĄgrimas a la contemporaneidad.


Quien abajo firma es consciente que la inmensa mayorĂ­a de lectores de Mondo Sonoro habrĂĄn fruncido el ceño al ver a Boards Of Canada en la portada de este nĂșmero de marzo. Unos, por simple desconocimiento de su mĂșsica. Otros, por conocerla demasiado bien. Y algunos mĂĄs, estupefactos, por sentir que la revista ha vuelto a traicionar su espĂ­ritu rockero con un hijo directo de esa modernidad que tan poco entienden y, en consecuencia, estiman. Pero lo cierto es que en su ya dilatada carrera, Mondo Sonoro nunca ha ejercido de plataforma exclusiva del rock o cualquier otro estilo musical, mĂĄs bien al contrario. Y lo mismo se le podrĂ­a decir a ese otro pĂșblico que, atĂłnito, contempla como la revista que les produce urticaria (ya sabemos que nunca se es suficientemente cool) respalda a uno de sus referentes favoritos. Digamos que la presencia de Boards Of Canada en la portada de marzo responde al mismo criterio que ha empujado a la publicaciĂłn a situar en sus pĂĄginas centrales a Sigur RĂłs, Mogwai, Nine Inch Nails o Doble V: la bĂșsqueda de emociĂłn infatigable, talento por domesticar y perspectiva de futuro en todos los terrenos franqueables del panorama musical. Y punto.


Boards Of Canada conservan la extraña virtud de conmover a sus seguidores con una ecuaciĂłn expresiva con pocas probabilidades de traspasar la epidermis. ElectrĂłnica invernal, ritmos hip hop, melodĂ­as nostĂĄlgicas, atmĂłsferas perturbadoras y tradiciĂłn Warp componen su herencia. A partir de ahĂ­, el dĂșo inglĂ©s se inventa el sonido del desasosiego: esa mĂșsica herida que las grandes urbes de nuestro dĂ­a a dĂ­a evitan sentir como propia. Banda sonora del desconcierto, la distancia y el aliento gris que invaden nuestras ciudades, nuestras vidas, la mĂșsica de Boards Of Canada contiene la verdad que muchos se niegan a ver o escuchar, y en su funciĂłn de espejo involuntario recae la tristeza, emociĂłn y ensoñaciĂłn de las obras que, ahora y mañana, estĂĄn destinadas a sobrevivirnos. En su aparente abstracciĂłn sonora reside otro milagro de la sensibilidad post-moderna. No es contraproducente, pues, comprobar como Radiohead y otros referentes sumidos en crisis creativas han optimizado su reorientaciĂłn estilĂ­stica a travĂ©s de “Music Has The Right To Children”, debut en formato largo (antes llegĂł un Ep homĂłnimo publicado por Skam) de esta inquietante formaciĂłn. Su impacto ha respondido a las coordenadas que todos le exigimos al arte: inquietud, aventura, esencia y emociĂłn. “Geogaddi”, segundo disco del dĂșo britĂĄnico (dos EpÂŽs y una peel session se añaden al cĂłmputo global de su legado; todos ellos, salvo “Boards Of Canada”, publicados por Warp), supone, en ese sentido, una de las obras mayĂșsculas de 2002. No sĂłlo porque en su propuesta cohabiten los aspectos anteriormente citados, sino tambiĂ©n porque se trata de un ejercicio sublime que se eleva por encima de su contexto y aspira a la perdurabilidad total. Marcus Eoin y Michael Sandison han invertido cuatro años en la confecciĂłn de este esperado y ansiado ĂĄlbum. Un silencio alterado Ășnicamente por “In A Beatiful Place Out In The Country”, un Ep sĂłlido e importante que hizo las veces de aperitivo antes de la definitiva salida al mercado de su deseado regreso discogrĂĄfico. Y ahora, enmarcados en la vorĂĄgine promocional de todo producto, los dos creadores mantienen su fidelidad al hermetismo casi autista. Su renuncia a la concesiĂłn de entrevistas telefĂłnicas, nos obliga, asĂ­, a la comunicaciĂłn vĂ­a e-mail. NingĂșn problema: ellos parece mĂĄs cĂłmodos con el teclado que con el telĂ©fono.

Sandison: Somos culpables de ello. Grabamos mucha mĂșsica a lo largo de los Ășltimos años, pero nos tomamos un respiro hasta sentirnos satisfechos con la combinaciĂłn definitiva de las canciones. Es importante conseguir un equilibrio entre los distintos tipos de canciones, especialmente porque nosotros esperamos que la gente se escuche el ĂĄlbum de un tirĂłn. Nosotros realmente no vemos las canciones de nuestros discos como piezas individuales, sino que todo compone una gran historia. AsĂ­ que los temas en ÂŽGeogaddiÂŽ son en sĂ­ mismos un grupo, un sabor, y hemos grabado suficiente mĂșsica como para editar otro disco.
Eoin: Pero no, no ha sido muy difĂ­cil. De hecho, nuestro mayor problema como banda es que tendemos a grabar demasiada mĂșsica, aunque posteriormente sĂłlo nos centremos en una pequeña proporciĂłn de lo que hemos hecho. La Ășnica dificultad reside en combinar canciones que se adapten entre sĂ­. Por cada canciĂłn incluida en ÂŽGeogaddiÂŽ existen doce que hemos obviado por alguna razĂłn determinada.


Dividido en dos frentes (por un lado, canciones con introducciĂłn, nudo y desenlace, a la vieja usanza; por el otro, breves insertos ambientales que no sĂłlo refuerzan el conjunto, sino que, en ocasiones, funcionan con autonomĂ­a propia), este disco no aporta cambios a primera vista dentro del discurso de Boards. Pero es que aquĂ­ no se persigue la metamorfosis que, cual impuesto revolucionario, exige la coyuntura y el devenir de la actualidad (ÂżquĂ© querĂ­an: nu school breakz?). Precisamente, el mĂĄximo punto de apoyo de este trabajo cabe hallarlo en su funcionamiento interno. Su bĂșsqueda no intenta trascender las leyes del momento, sino las leyes de su propio sonido. Es decir: “Geogaddi” es un valioso paso adelante en la edificaciĂłn del discurso de Boards Of Canada. Lo mejora, solidifica, envalentona y complementa. Y a partir de ahĂ­, Ă©ste se beneficia sobremanera de esa exploraciĂłn cercana y modesta. Los principales afectados, los ritmos. Cabe detenerse en este elemento, porque un anĂĄlisis voraz del mismo nos invita al regocijo mayĂșsculo: los beats de este disco contemplan uno de los trabajos mĂĄs abrumadores de los Ășltimos meses.

Eoin: Esta vez decidimos revolucionarnos un poco y hacer los ritmos menos convencionales. Nosotros siempre tenemos el sentimiento hip hop merodeando, pero en ŽGeogaddiŽ intentamos dejar que las cosas crecieran estilísticamente, y esto también afectaba a los ritmos. En el disco hay un beat realmente satisfactorio para nosotros, es el de ŽYou Could Feel The Sky [uno de los mejores momentos de todo el minutaje], que suena como si una cuerda fuese estirada sobre la cubierta de un barco de madera.
Todo ello, secundado por un cambio de registro en el método de trabajo. Es en la rara percepción que se tiene al escuchar su discurso que uno se tropieza con elementos y miradas añejas. En su proceso de autoconstrucción, la banda enfrenta el toque artesanal y la pulsación orgånica a los patrones esquivos del ordenador y las måquinas.
Sandison: Bueno, sĂ­, nosotros Ășltimamente hemos empezado a volver al antiguo, y tambiĂ©n mĂĄs simple, mĂ©todo de trabajo. Tras ÂŽMusic Has The Right To ChildrenÂŽ nos empeñamos en usar mĂĄs tecnologĂ­a de ordenador con la equivocada intenciĂłn de acelerar nuestro proceso de composiciĂłn. Pero con los ordenadores siempre te acaban entorpeciendo las posibilidades que ofrece la producciĂłn tĂ©cnica, que tiene el desagradable efecto de secarte paulatinamente toda tu inspiraciĂłn. AsĂ­ que reaccionamos contra ello y ahora hemos vuelto a la forma mĂĄs simple de hacer las cosas, tal y como trabajamos en nuestros inicios: simplemente usando un sampler, un secuenciador y yendo al grano con las melodĂ­as. Esto lo hace mĂĄs instantĂĄneo y divertido paranosotros.
Con esa premisa, ambos absorben sonidos e ideas para llevar a cabo la integraciĂłn de sus melodĂ­as en el armazĂłn rĂ­tmico. MĂĄs orgĂĄnicas, insistimos, y retorcidas que en “Music Has The Right To Children” y su Ep “In a Beautiful Place Out In The Country”, Ă©stas deparan un catĂĄlogo emotivo confuso, extrañísimo, casi lisĂ©rgico.
Eoin: Intentamos crear melodĂ­as que vayan al grano, algunas de ellas basadas en sonidos uniformes o en la repeticiĂłn de riffs que aparecen sĂșbitamente y luego se desarrollan. TĂș escuchas el disco y te quedas con algunos momentos encantadores que, en todo caso, son transitorios; pero despuĂ©s de sucesivas escuchas te sorprendes nuevamente cuando encuentras algo que habĂ­as olvidado desde la primera escucha.
ÂżTrabajo de redescubrimiento y puzzle sensitivo? Para quĂ© preocuparse cuando lo que tenemos aquĂ­, ahora mismo, en el aparato reproductor de cedĂ©s, es un salvaje alegato a favor de la emociĂłn pura y desintoxicada. Otro antĂ­doto desesperado contra la sobreestimaciĂłn de la electrĂłnica como fuente inagotable de lucidez lectiva y progreso creativo sin apego al dictado de la epidermis. Dios sabe que en Boards Of Canada lo Ășnico que cuenta es la capacidad de conmociĂłn que su mĂșsica ejerce en el oyente.
Sandison: Estoy de acuerdo: nuestra mĂșsica tiene que ver mĂĄs con la emociĂłn que con la inteligencia. Pero no nos acercamos a las canciones con la intenciĂłn de hacerlas emocionales de forma deliberada. Las melodĂ­as bĂĄsicas de nuestras canciones acostumbran a escribirse de forma rĂĄpida e instintiva, asĂ­ que nunca son conscientes o deliberadas. Yo siempre encuentro un sonido que me gusta, improviso y experimento a su alrededor, y entonces aparece una melodĂ­a y me quedo con ella. DespuĂ©s de este proceso es cuando empezamos a aplicar tĂ©cnicas de composiciĂłn conscientemente.

Un punto vital, en todo caso, sobre el que adopta forma una propuesta descorazonadora. Eoin y Sandison se perfilan, disco a disco, como dos nostĂĄlgicos crĂłnicos, como dos creadores marchitos por una tristeza incansable que se traduce, sin duda alguna, en cada uno de sus pentagramas. Sin quererlo, quizĂĄs, ambos fotografĂ­an la calidez del derrumbe, la hambruna de la melancolĂ­a. Y eso es, muy probablemente, uno de los aspectos que les distinguen de muchos otros referentes electrĂłnicos que todavĂ­a no han optado por sacrificar los imperativos de la psique. Ellos fabrican mĂșsica infinitamente mĂĄs humana y cercana que muchas bandas de rock, emocore, pop, folk o techno.

Sandison: Supongo que la cuestiĂłn es que nosotros no escribimos a conciencia canciones que entristecen a la gente. Nosotros simplemente escribimos aquello que sentimos, y habitualmente la mĂșsica surge de ese modo. Muchas de las melodĂ­as han sido escritas por mĂ­, y sĂ© que yo tengo cierta tendencia a la tristeza.
Eoin: Creo que el hecho de sonar nostĂĄlgicos y todo eso no es algo que persigamos, sino que ocurre por cĂłmo somos como personas y cĂłmo pensamos. Tenemos una privada y amorfa idea en nuestras mentes de cĂłmo se supone que debe sonar el Ășltimo disco de Boards Of Canada. Es como un objetivo que tenemos claro y al que siempre nos estamos aproximando, pero al que nunca acabamos de llegar. Eso nos mantiene porque sabemos que estĂĄ en nuestras manos hablar a travĂ©s de nuestras ideas; tan sĂłlo tenemos claro que si seguimos trabajando llegaremos algĂșn dĂ­a a ese objetivo.

Autor: David Broc

Fotografia: Archivo

Note: Translated by ChatGPT-4o


The Wounded Sky


Partly responsible for Radiohead's musical conversion, Boards of Canada continue to confront the void from modernity, two concepts that today often go hand in hand, but in the British duo's proposal find their definitive opposition. Geogaddi (Warp/Satélite K, 02), their new album, brings tears to contemporaneity.


The undersigned is aware that the vast majority of Mondo Sonoro readers will have frowned upon seeing Boards Of Canada on the cover of this March issue. Some, due to simple ignorance of their music. Others, because they know it all too well. And a few more, astonished, feeling that the magazine has once again betrayed its rock spirit with a direct child of this modernity that they so little understand and, consequently, esteem. But the truth is that in its long career, Mondo Sonoro has never served as an exclusive platform for rock or any other musical style, quite the contrary. And the same could be said to that other audience that, astonished, watches as the magazine that gives them hives (we know one is never cool enough) supports one of their favorite references. Let's say that the presence of Boards Of Canada on the March cover responds to the same criteria that has led the publication to feature Sigur RĂł, Mogwai, Nine Inch Nails, or Doble V in its central pages: the tireless search for emotion, talent to be tamed, and a perspective of the future in all the crossable terrains of the musical panorama. And that's it.


Boards Of Canada retain the strange virtue of moving their followers with an expressive equation with little chance of penetrating the epidermis. Winter electronics, hip-hop rhythms, nostalgic melodies, disturbing atmospheres, and Warp tradition compose their heritage. From there, the English duo invents the sound of unease: that wounded music that the great cities of our daily lives avoid feeling as their own. Soundtrack of confusion, distance, and the gray breath that invades our cities, our lives, the music of Boards Of Canada contains the truth that many refuse to see or hear, and in its role as an involuntary mirror lies the sadness, emotion, and reverie of works that, now and tomorrow, are destined to outlive us. In their apparent sonic abstraction resides another miracle of post-modern sensitivity. It is not counterproductive, then, to see how Radiohead and other references immersed in creative crises have optimized their stylistic reorientation through Music Has The Right To Children, the long-format debut (preceded by a self-titled EP released by Skam) of this disturbing formation. Its impact has responded to the coordinates that we all demand of art: restlessness, adventure, essence, and emotion. Geogaddi, the second album by the British duo (two EPs and a Peel session add to the global count of their legacy; all of them, except for Boards Of Canada, published by Warp), represents, in that sense, one of the major works of 2002. Not only because its proposal encompasses the aforementioned aspects but also because it is a sublime exercise that rises above its context and aspires to total endurance. Marcus Eoin and Michael Sandison have invested four years in the creation of this eagerly awaited and desired album. A silence altered only by In a Beautiful Place out in the Country, a solid and important EP that served as an appetizer before the definitive release of their long-awaited return to the market. And now, framed in the promotional whirlwind of any product, the two creators maintain their fidelity to almost autistic hermeticism. Their refusal to grant phone interviews forces us, then, to communicate via email. No problem: they seem more comfortable with the keyboard than with the phone.

Sandison: We are guilty of it. We recorded a lot of music over the past few years, but we took a break until we felt satisfied with the final combination of the songs. It is important to achieve a balance between the different types of songs, especially because we hope people listen to the album in one go. We really do not see the songs on our records as individual pieces, but rather everything makes up one big story. So the tracks on Geogaddi are in themselves a group, a flavor, and we have recorded enough music to release another album.
Eoin: But no, it has not been very difficult. In fact, our biggest problem as a band is that we tend to record too much music, although we later focus only on a small proportion of what we have done. The only difficulty lies in combining songs that fit together. For every song included in Geogaddi there are twelve that we have omitted for some particular reason.
Divided into two fronts (on one side, songs with introduction, knot, and outcome, in the old-fashioned way; on the other, brief ambient inserts that not only reinforce the whole but, on occasions, function autonomously), this album does not bring changes at first glance within the Boards' discourse. But here, the pursuit is not the metamorphosis that, like a revolutionary tax, the current situation and the course of events demand (what did you want: nu school breakz?). Precisely, the maximum point of support of this work lies in its internal functioning. Its search does not attempt to transcend the laws of the moment but the laws of its own sound. That is to say: Geogaddi is a valuable step forward in the construction of the Boards Of Canada discourse. It improves, solidifies, emboldens, and complements it. And from there, it greatly benefits from that close and modest exploration. The main ones affected are the rhythms. It is worth pausing on this element because a thorough analysis of it invites great joy: the beats on this album feature one of the most overwhelming works of recent months.
Eoin: This time we decided to revolutionize a bit and make the rhythms less conventional. We always have the hip hop feeling lurking, but in Geogaddi we tried to let things grow stylistically, and this also affected the rhythms. There is a really satisfying beat for us on the album, it is "You Could Feel The Sky" (one of the best moments of the entire length), which sounds like a rope being stretched over the deck of a wooden ship.
All this is supported by a change in the working method. It is in the rare perception one has when listening to their discourse that one stumbles upon old elements and views. In their process of self-construction, the band confronts the artisanal touch and the organic pulse with the elusive patterns of the computer and machines.
Sandison: Well, yes, we have recently started to return to the old, and also simpler, working method. After Music Has The Right To Children we insisted on using more computer technology with the mistaken intention of speeding up our composition process. But with computers, you always end up being hindered by the possibilities offered by technical production, which has the unpleasant effect of gradually drying up all your inspiration. So we reacted against it and have now returned to the simpler way of doing things, just as we did in the beginning: simply using a sampler, a sequencer, and going straight to the point with the melodies. This makes it more instantaneous and fun for us.
With that premise, they both absorb sounds and ideas to integrate their melodies into the rhythmic framework. More organic, we insist, and twisted than in Music Has The Right To Children and their EP In a Beautiful Place out in the Country, they offer an emotional catalog that is confusing, extremely strange, almost psychedelic.
Eoin: We try to create melodies that go straight to the point, some of them based on uniform sounds or the repetition of riffs that appear suddenly and then develop. You listen to the album and you stay with some charming moments that, in any case, are transient; but after successive listens, you are surprised again when you find something you had forgotten since the first listen.
Rediscovery work and sensitive puzzle? Why worry when what we have here, right now, in the CD player, is a wild plea for pure and detoxified emotion. Another desperate antidote against the overestimation of electronics as an inexhaustible source of lective lucidity and creative progress without attachment to the dictates of the epidermis. God knows that in Boards Of Canada the only thing that matters is the capacity of their music to move the listener.
Sandison: I agree: our music has more to do with emotion than with intelligence. But we do not approach songs with the intention of making them emotional deliberately. The basic melodies of our songs are usually written quickly and instinctively, so they are never conscious or deliberate. I always find a sound I like, improvise and experiment around it, and then a melody appears and I stick with it. After this process is when we start to apply composition techniques consciously.
A vital point, in any case, on which a heartbreaking proposal takes shape. Eoin and Sandison are shaping up, album by album, as two chronic nostalgics, as two creators withered by an incessant sadness that translates, undoubtedly, into each of their staves. Unintentionally, perhaps, they photograph the warmth of collapse, the hunger of melancholy. And that is, most probably, one of the aspects that distinguish them from many other electronic references that have not yet opted to sacrifice the imperatives of the psyche. They create music infinitely more human and close than many rock, emocore, pop, folk, or techno bands.
Sandison: I suppose the point is that we do not consciously write songs that sadden people. We simply write what we feel, and usually, the music comes out that way. Many of the melodies have been written by me, and I know I have a certain tendency towards sadness.
Eoin: I think the fact that we sound nostalgic and all that is not something we pursue, but it happens because of who we are as people and how we think. We have a private and amorphous idea in our minds of how the last Boards Of Canada album is supposed to sound. It's like a goal that we are clear about and always approaching, but never quite reaching. That keeps us going because we know that it is in our hands to speak through our ideas; we just know that if we keep working, we will reach that goal someday.


Author: David Broc

Photography: Archive


Play Twice Before Listening

title Play Twice Before Listening
author Koen Poolman
publication OOR
date 2002/03
issue
pages



"Play Twice Before Listening" is an interview by Koen Poolman originally published online Mar. 2002 on the OOR website [11]. The abbreviated version (in Dutch) published in the OOR magazine can be found here.

This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.

Hi Michael & Marcus, Where are you? How are you doing?
Marcus: We're at our studio right now, the whole place is under snow at the moment. Everything's cool.
Geogaddi must be one of the most anticipated records of 2002. I guess this weekend saw the first string of reviews in the magazines. What's the best and the worst criticism you got so far?
Marcus: We try not to look at reviews. It starts to affect your work if you read the comments people make. Even positive comments can be damaging, I mean it's a lot easier for us to have fun writing music if we imagine nobody is listening to it.
What's with the secrecy surrounding the release of the album? a) we don't care about music business politics and promotion schedules b) we tried to keep the music from the net (and miraculously succeeded) c) we like a little mystery d) all above is true
Mike: a and b. Especially a.
Music Has The Right To Children was one of those seminal records that got better and more personal every time you listened to it. Its reputation seemed to grow every year. It's a modern classic. Geogaddi won't get the time and space to grow in people's subconsciousness, as MHTRTC did. People are taking in the album from day one, swallowing every track, hungry as they are.
Mike: Thanks, yeah I think you're right, it's easier when you appear out of nowhere with your first album. After that, if people let their expectations grow too much, then it's inevitable that any subsequent records won't have the same effect, no matter what the music sounds like. Our music is never intended to do its work on just the first listen. Like Jack Dangers said, "play twice before listening.
How did you cope with this situation? Do you feel comfortable with the idea that a lot more people are gonna hear your music, giving it momentum, building up a hype rather than letting it "capture a nostalgic feeling buried somewhere in our mind", as one journalist so accurately wrote.
Mike: We'd much rather that people find our music by themselves, you know, so that it's something that feels like it belongs to them. If it was up to us there would be no promotion for our music at all.
MHTRTC was a one-off moment of magic you can't possibly repeat -because of the aforementioned situation. Wasn't it? Is it fair to expect another album of such class? Best thing to do in a situation like this is to disappear for good...and let legend begin.
Mike: Our best work is still ahead of us. We were writing and recording our own music for about fifteen years before 'Music Has The Right...', and we're never going to stop creating music. We wouldn't have left it at just that album, just because that's the first record that became quite widely-known. The truth is that when we released that record we had no idea it would develop the kind of cult thing that it has.
You've been shying away from the media and are very fastidious when it comes to playing live. How important is Boards Of Canada, The Myth, to you?
Marcus: We're not into milking the media and we're not interested in trying to become famous. There are too many artists out there who barely put any records out, yet they're on television and in magazines all the time. If that's what they want, that's fine, but I think that's the mentality of someone who came to the music world quite late in their life, but for us we've been doing what we do for years already, and we'd be doing it anyway even if nobody knew us. The music industry is full of people who are famous for being famous. We just want to create good music, and it doesn't matter to us to do all the other nonsense.
There's a nostalgic feeling speaking through your music. The ultimate conclusion would be: perceiving your music as if it were nostalgia itself, originating from another time and space. Something out there. Not of today's world.
Mike: That's exactly why we try to create a sound that isn't attached to the current time. I hope our music could be enjoyed thirty years in the future without sounding like it came from an identifiable trend or a scene. We've always loved the sound of things that are a little sad and broken-sounding. I think that because we try to capture a damaged, eerie effect in our music, it ends up sounding nostalgic to some listeners. But you could be right because the intention is to make it sound like it's something strangely familiar but perpendicular to the real world, and in a way timeless.
You've recorded over 90 songs for Geogaddi. Only 22 - and the silent Magic Window - made it onto the album. At Cambersands you played an utterly brilliant new track that's not on the album.
Marcus: It's about what fits in the context of the album. When we play live we often play tracks that haven't been released. Sometimes those tracks will be used later, sometimes we will move on from that sound and leave the track behind.
How many hours of music went through the drain? Any chance of a quick follow-up to Geogaddi or, at least, an EP then?
Mike: Haha, yeah there will be another record very soon after this one. As Marcus said, you make an album by compiling what fits together, and we're already putting together a different record.
How did you make the selection between the 'full on' tracks and the strange intermezzos and miniature melodies that slowly grow into little gems after a while? Is there an overall theme/direction that connects the tracks on the album?
Mike: It's meant to play like the soundtrack for some strange musical, or an imagined movie. The theme with Geogaddi is a kind of confusion, as though you're going through a kind of 'Alice in Wonderland' adventure, but with a damaged mind. Those short tracks you mention, we write far more of those than the so-called "full on" tracks, and in a way, they are our own favorites.
These hidden treasures, little as they are, appear to be even bigger in numbers than on Music Has The Right To Children. Is seems like you're teasing us. It's hidden, so find it! True?
Mike: If we wanted, we could release 10 albums tomorrow made up only with those short tracks. The ones on Geogaddi are the ones that make most sense in the overall flow.
At the time of the release of In A Beautiful Place Out In The Country, November 2000, you were said to have recorded 64 tracks from which 23 would be pared down to an album. Fifteen months later there's an album of 23 tracks - selected out of 90-plus. How does Geogaddi differ from the album you could have put together on and a half year ago?
Mike: If you mean how does it differ from what might have been compiled into an album in 2000, I think it would have been pretty different. We go through phases, Geogaddi has a lot to do with what we were listening to in the last year. If we'd made it in 2000 it might have been more electronic, but over time we've tried to create something more fuzzy and organic. Every time we make a record we see it as an individual project, separate from what went before and what will happen afterwards. Likewise the next record will sound different.
The aim for Geogaddi is the perfect album, you once said. How perfect is Geogaddi? Is the devil really in the details? Is that why it took you another year to finish the album?
Marcus: The idea of the perfect album is this amorphous thing that we're always aiming at. For us it can mean something that's full of imperfection, because part of our aim has always been to destroy the sound in a beautiful way. It doesn't mean that we expect everyone would like it. I'm not sure that we will ever get there, to make the perfect record. But the whole point of making music is at least to aim at your own idea of perfection.
Did In A Beautiful Place Out In The Country originate from the same sessions as the tracks on Geogaddi? Those were four 'full on'tracks. Put too many of these on an album and it will become a collection of songs, not an organic work of art as a whole, is that what you believe?
Mike: That's partially true. For the album we hoped to make something where all the tracks had a similar undercurrent while being diverse. The songs on IABPOITC could have ended up on Geogaddi, but at the time, we realized they worked well together so they became their own EP."
Amo Bishop Roden was outstanding. Very minimal (Reich, Glass, La Monte Young), very ambient. Zoetrope had a similar vibe. It's a vibe that shines through on Geogaddi (esp. in You Could Feel The Sky), but not as much as I expected. It's not a big step from MHTRTC to Geogaddi really. Or is it?
Marcus: We don't try to plot a route with where we go musically. It has more to do with our own moods at the time of writing, and for example, what we have read or watched as an influence. That EP had it's own little theme. Because Geogaddi has a lot more tracks than an EP, it's easier to draw a connection between it and our last album, because we are the same band! Usually we're a lot more minimal than the songs on Geogaddi, but this time we wanted to do something with more facets, more detail and a kind of concentrated recipe of chaotic little melodies. It reflected a chaotic time in our personal lives. I guess we'll probably go back in a more minimal direction next.
If you were to point out one difference, one progression from MHTRTC, what would it be?
Mike: I would say 'Music Has The Right...' is a record for outdoors on a cold, blue-skied day, while 'Geogaddi' is a record for some sort of trial-by-fire, a claustrophobic, twisting journey that takes you into some pretty dark experiences before you reach the open air again. It has a kind of narrative. That's why we ended it with 'Corsair', it's like the light at the end of the tunnel.
"It's darker than their previous work," Steve Beckett, head of Warp Records, said about In A Beautiful Place, back then. Does that count for Geogaddi as well?
Marcus: Definitely, even more so. Our influences while creating Geogaddi involved much darker material, so I think this comes through in the album.
Minimal tracks like Amo Bishop Roden, Zoetrope and You Could Feel The Sky, are they pointing out a new direction for BOC, you think?
Mike: Yeah it's possible. I think the best way to freshen up what you're doing is to strip it down and go minimal, so we'll see. Though our next EP could just as easily be a collection of ROYGBIV-like songs. Every so often we like to stop ourselves and change direction, it's important to do that or you can become tired of your own music. Every record is like a reaction to the last one, so I guess at the moment we're feeling more like heading in a minimal direction, simplifying the sound again.
Does it bother you that one half of the IDM population is copying Autechre/Aphex and the other half is copying you, stealing your voice and style?
Marcus: I think it's flattering that we may be influencing others to create music. But I think everyone should find their own path. In a way, if people copy us closely, it just keeps me on my toes.
How important is the folk influence that crops up in every review, like "the production aesthetics of late 60s and early 70s folk artists"?
Mike: Very. There's a lot of acoustic instrumentation used in Geogaddi, though not in obvious ways. We love artists like Joni Mitchell and The Incredible Stringband. There's a sort of purity of sound that they have, and I guess we are striving for that ourselves.
A friend of mine (and Plaid's) draw my attention to the psychedelic folk of fellow Scotchmen The Incredible Stringband. Their late sixties albums The 5000 Spirits and The Hangman's Beautiful Daughter, would that be the kind of stuff you're into? Ehm
 the album covers of The Hangman's Beautiful Daughter and Music Has The Right To Children make a nice pair, that's for sure!
Marcus: Definitely! We have all the Stringband records! In fact, they come from the same place where we live now. We see them from time to time. So I guess our rural sensibilities are similar. Personally, I think they are one of the most important and underrated bands in the past forty years of music. They influenced so many other artists yet they never get due credit.
Someone like David Tibet/Current 93 has been tracing the pagan roots of folk music for years. Taking influences on a spiritual rather than a musical level, is that an angle you can relate to?
Mike: We are interested in pagan roots. We're very much into older cultures and lifestyles. People forget just how transitory this period of time in the modern world is. It's important to be able to consider other approaches to society and life than what's around you. Take a look at Julian Cope for example, he uses these influences to fuel his music in a wonderful unique way. It can influence your work in other ways too, not necessarily just in the sound of the music.
Hexagon Sun (studio). Chris H aka Christ (former bandmember). Redmoon nights. Hell Interface (sometimes used alias for BOC). The Devil Is In The Details. 66 minutes and 6 seconds. Artwork full of hexagrams. Supposedly subliminal messages
 How evil is BOC?
Marcus: As evil as Mickey Mouse.
What does the hexagram symbolize for you? (Depending on your beliefs it is: a powerful tool to invoke Satan, a stand-by for magicians, witches and alchemists, and a pagan symbol of sexual union and reproduction, esp. of the sexually oriented rites and ceremonies of Baalism).
Mike: It's just a pattern. It captures some people's imaginations.
Are you putting a hex/curse on us?
Marcus: Heh, only if you want it to happen.
My guess: it's about a deeply-rooted believe in Mother Earth, as displayed in the ancient traditions of paganism.
Mike: You could say that. We're not Satanists, or Christians, or pagans. We're not religious at all. We just put symbols into our music sometimes, depending on what we're interested in at the time. We do care about people and the state of the world, and if we're spiritual at all it's purely in the sense of caring about art and inspiring people with ideas.
Call it folk, nostalgia, pagan - it all comes down to the rustic/rural settings of your music, doesn't it? The music being dreamt up and worked out In A Beautiful Place Out In The Country, the land we inherited from our ancestors and haven't yet ruined completely. Being isolated from The City, Modern Life and the delusion of Ongoing Progress. How does that show in your music, you think?
Marcus: We're very much anti-globalization. One think that disturbs me is a trend today for technology to be created and used just for it's own sake. I recently heard a politician in the UK saying that population decline was a terrible thing and that if we don't build more houses then quality of life and the economy would suffer. It's such a naive and ignorant approach to the world. Where exactly do they stop? Once there is no land left, just industrial estates and housing? I think it's the saddest thing in the world that we have all the space and resources to give everyone a decent life, but it doesn't happen. George Bush is right in that there is an "axis of evil", but it lies at the door of big business and government. We try to support the idea of a less urbanized lifestyle in our music, but I don't want to preach to anyone.
For years - since Kraftwerk actually - electronic music has been associated with science fiction, futurism, cyberspace, technology, a world of robots and machinery. Your music seem to be a reaction to all that: it's not shaping the future, but recapturing the past - with a child-like innocence. Is that a correct interpretation? How important is the child-like innocence in this.
Mike: I think you're quite right, and to us the association of electronic music with science fiction and futurism is a cliche. It's a really corny, dated, unsophisticated way of thinking. And yet most current electronic artists still seem to fall into that trap. It might have been original in the 1970's when Kraftwerk were at their peak, but not now. For us, the technological aspect of our music goes as far as the studio recording techniques we use, but we don't let the technology dictate the purpose of our art to us. Too many electronic bands get carried away with the influences of computers and the internet and other technology, and they end up using that as their sole inspiration because at the end of the day that's all they do. So they let their song-titles and themes be direct references to current technological buzzwords or fashions, and to us that's a total lack of imagination. They're geeks obsessed with equipment and computers and ultimately it's become fucking predictable and boring. They should go out and live. Or travel around or something, get some real ideas, and real emotions. I mean, we too are interested in technology and science, but our music is influenced by much further-reaching ideas than that. And it's not just about recapturing the past. We've touched upon the theme of lost childhood a few times because it's something personal to me that gives me real inspiration through its sadness. I think sometimes the best way to get inspiration is to face up to the things that make you very sad in your life, and use them.
What makes the past more interesting than the future to you?
Mike: The future is very interesting to us too, we're very forward-thinking. But as I said, it's become the accepted standard for electronic artists to be constantly projecting into the future, and as a band we love electronic music but we hate the cliches. As people we're both quite reflective, particularly myself, and sometimes I find that the most positive way to convey hope for the future is to delve into the past. It could just as easily be an exploration of a tragedy or it could be a reflection of some wonderful golden period from the past.
"1969 in the sunshine"(from: 1969). What memory is that? Woodstock? A yellowed picture of your parents? A collective memory that fits your music?
Mike: In that song it refers to a specific period in the history of a religious group, and at the same time the period in general, the hopefulness of a forward-thinking generation that wasn't aware of what was coming in their collective future.
It's these references that give your music a context. Or is there more to it than just context
 a message?
Marcus: It's a bit of both. Some of our tracks are using messages to lend the sound of the tune a context, to make it easier for people to understand what frame of mind we intend the track to be taken in. It can mean the difference between someone understanding our sense of irony or not. We're very conscious of what we sound like, and we have a sense of humor that can be completely missed if you don't fully understand what we're about. At the same time, we're quite serious about a lot of issues, we're politically motivated, and we're genuinely interested in a lot of cultural and scientific subjects. We do a lot of research. So, some of our tracks are putting across a very specific message.
Music Is Math, you state. Is it true that you've been experimenting with the Fibonacci Sequence and the golden ratio (as they appear in nature) in your music? Did it get you anywhere?
Marcus: It's true and we've experimented with a lot of other equations and phenomena. But it's not the primary purpose behind the band. Most of the time we're really just into making music the normal way.
What is The Smallest Weird Number?
Mike: Seventy."
Many plants show the Fibonacci Numbers in the arrangement of the leaves around their stem. It's these mysterious phenomenons, where nature and science meet, that seem to fascinate you more than anything. See: Gyroscope, Sunshine Recorder, Magic Window, I Saw Drones and the volcano and energy warnings on Geogaddi.
Mike: Yeah the main thing is these titles are evocative and the idea is it helps put a picture in your mind to associate with the track. We don't want to go too far as it's important to leave a certain space there for the listener's imagination. On this album a lot of the tracks are referring to science and nature and maths, it's just what we were into at the time of writing it. When we work on music we often imagine a visual part, as though the track is meant to accompany a short film of some kind, so yeah I suppose each track has a theme that we want to convey in some vague way.
Would this be the kind of movies you're making with the Music 70 collective?
Marcus: Yes the films we've done are mostly abstract, organic-looking things. Loops and collages of clips, made into patterns, which seem to be in the style of documentaries or information films, or nature films. We want our music to be provocative and inspiring so we try to put suggestions into the live visual show to reinforce this. We make them ourselves, we don't sample bits of other people's films, but we make them look like they came from something older.
I know there's some Super 8 footage shown at your live gigs. Are you involved with the visual part yourselves? Is this an integral part of your work?
Marcus: Most of the films we use in our live gigs are made entirely by Mike and myself.
How many people are involved with Music 70?
Marcus: It's a floating number of friends who are working on music or films or photography. There's only a handful of us, about a dozen. Mike and I have done other side projects in the past that are currently taking a back-seat while we concentrate on Boards of Canada, although in the future we intend to get into other things again, films and books.
Rumour has it that Warp bought the rights to the old Music 70 recordings. Is that true? Do you think they will do a 'Mbuki Mvuki/Trainer' in the near future?
Mike: Maybe.
What do think of Twoism being sold for up to 710 pounds on eBay? (Most offers coming from Edinburgh. It seems people want to cash in on their money before the old stuff is being re-released.)
Mike: We heard about this. It's ridiculous. If people have that much money to spend on music it's up to them. There has been no decision about doing any re-releases yet, and if there was, nobody would know about it because we never tell anybody anything.
Any plans to come to Europe and Holland this Spring/Summer? Do you enjoy playing live? It seems such an awkward normal thing to do, so hopelessly un-mysterious, so not-BOC.
Marcus: We'd like to play in Holland at some point if we get a chance, if anyone wants us to. There are no plans at the moment for a tour because we're working on another record, but we love visiting Europe and we'd love an excuse to experience Holland, so maybe it'll happen sometime soon.
Also not-very-BOC: the number of chill-out compilations that got Aquarius and other tracks from MHTRTC on them. What do you make of that? Do you consider your music as being chill-out music? What is the best situation to listen to your music?
Marcus: It's silly. We don't pay any attention to that. These compilations just lump us together with all sorts of music that has no connection with what we do. I don't know what 'chill-out' is. We're not into scenes or any of that. There isn't one phrase to describe our music because it changes drastically from one track to the next.
I know Mogwai tried to invite you for their All Tomorrow's Parties and other shows, but you've never answered their letters. Nobody seems to really know you. Not Arab Strap's Aidan Moffat, who's a also from Glasgow and a big fan. Mira Calix seems to be the only artist at Warp you keep in touch with - and Autechre, I guess. How real is the image of recluse loners, hidden in the Pentland Hills?
Mike: We don't keep in touch with anyone in the music world. It doesn't pay to be involved with people in the music industry. There's no specific preference or prejudice. We just keep everyone at the same distance.
Last question: what does Geogaddi mean in your twisted language? What does it stand for?
Mike: It's a combination of different words, there are a few different meanings you can take from it. We have our own meaning and we want the listener to make up his or her own meaning. It's more personal that way.
Thanks a lot for your time! I hope it was worth it. Keep making such amazing records. Cheers, Koen Poolman/OOR
BoC: Thanks Koen...

interview by by Koen Poolman, March 2002.


Even voorstellen

title Even voorstellen
author Koen Poolman
publication OOR
date 2002/03
issue 06
pages 20-22



"Even voorstellen" is an interview (in Dutch) by Koen Poolman originally published Mar. 2002 in Oor magazine Number 06, pp. 20-22. The full interview was available on the OOR website.[12]

This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.

Even voorstellen: Boards Of Canada. Enigmatisch elektronicaduo uit Schotland. Makers van de sprookjesachtig mooie CD's Music Has The Right To Children en Geogaddi. Beatfreaks met een voorliefde voor folkies Joni Mitchell en The Incredible Stringband. Inspiratiebron voor Radiohead en vele anderen. Middelpunt van een heuse cultus. Ambitie: onzichtbaar blijven.


door Koen Poolman

leestijd 7'32"

We're at our studio right now, the whole place is under snow at the moment. Everything's cool.
Het begin van een e-mail correspondentie met Marcus Eion (28) - echte naam Marcus Es - en Michael 'Mike' Sandison (30), samen Boards Of Canada. Mediaschuw elektronicaduo dat zich schuilhoudt in zijn studio in een verlaten atoombunker in de woeste natuur van de Pentland Hills, aan de oostkust van Schotland. Boards Of Canada bewaart graag afstand. Van de media, van de fans (optredens zijn een zeldzaamheid), van hun collega's (wie je ook spreekt, niemand heeft hen ooit ontmoet) en zeker van de muziekindustrie. Niemand lijkt hen persoon lijk te kennen.
We houden met niemand in de muziek contact. Het is het niet waard. Het is gewoon onze wereld niet.
Boards Of Canada, mythe in een wereld van hypes en trends.


HET IS 28 FEBRUARI 2002, HET SNEEUWT IN SCHOTLAND en Boards Of Canada spreekt, na vier jaar van stilzwijgen en Ă©Ă©n eerder op niets uitgelopen contact. Toen, rond het verschijnen van de mini-CD In A Beautiful Place Out In The Country (eind '00), deed men uiteindelijk maar drie interviews. Wereldwijd. Nu zijn het er een paar - niet veel — meer. Per e-mail. Het is graag of niet.

Het liefst geven we helemaal geen ruchtbaarheid aan onze muziek,
schrijft Mike Sandison in zijn eerste reactie.
We hebben liever dat de mensen onze muziek zelf ontdekken, zodat ze er een persoonlijke band mee krijgen.
Muziek die in de mallemolen van de muziekindustrie terechtkomt, verliest haar puurheid en haar onschuld en dus haar geloofwaardigheid, is de stellige overtuiging van het duo. Het enige alternatief is je platen stilletjes uit te brengen en vervolgens je handen er vanaf te trekken. Laat de consument zelf maar op zoek gaan en beslissen. De muziek van Boards Of Canada moet je langzaam bekruipen, benadrukt Mike.
Onze platen zijn niet bedoeld om je meteen bij de keel te grijpen. Om met Jack Dangers [van Meat Beat Manifesto] te spreken: Play twice before listening.

Aldus geschiedde met Music Has The Right To Children ('98). Het officiële debuut kwam geruisloos, begon langzaam te groeien en is inmiddels tot haast mythische proporties uitgegroeid. Het is een moderne klassieker, tijdloos en genreloos. Pure schoonheid, nostalgie en mystiek gevat in abstracte beats, warme synthesizers, troostrijke melodieën en vervreemdende kinderstemmetjes: verdraaid, verknipt en achterstevoren afgespeeld. Muziek bij een sprookje dat slecht afloopt. Dartel, speels, onschuldig, maar met een duistere ondertoon. Stukje bij beetje ontrafelde zich ook het mysterie rond de makers. Mike Sandison en Marcus Eion zogezegd. Twee kluizenaars uit Schotland, bleek al snel. Als kind zouden ze allebei naar Alberta zijn geëmigreerd, alwaar ze uren voor de buis gekluisterd zaten, betoverd door de beelden én de muziek van de natuurdocumentaires van de National Film Board Of Canada. De achtergrondmuziek bij deze films geldt nog steeds als een belangrijke invloed op hun eigen werk. Via een tussenstop in Zuid-Engeland keren de twee (geen familie) begin jaren '80 terug naar de oostkust van Schotland. Daar spelen ze sinds '86 samen in een band. Tussen '92 en '94 organiseren ze Redmoon-feesten, happenings eigenlijk, in een ruïne middenin de wildernis van de Pentland Hills, onder Edinburgh. Attracties: Super-8 filmpjes uit hun jeugd, oude kinderliedjes gemixt over elektronische beats, een groot kampvuur en een rode maan. In de eigen Hexagon Sun studio, gevestigd in een atoombunker in de heuvels vlakbij de ruïne, nemen ze in eigen beheer hun eerste LP op, Twoism ('95), die een jaar later via Autechre's Sean Booth bij Skam belandt. Het label uit Manchester neemt direct contact met de Schotten op en brengt de mini-lp Hi Scores ('96) uit. Waarna Warp hen contracteert en het verhaal met Music Has The Right To Children pas echt begint. Weer vier jaar later is er een heuse cultus rond het duo losgebarsten - onlangs werd een van de honderd LP's van Twoism voor maar liefst 710 pond op eBay geveild - en is Geogaddi al op voorhand een van de belangrijkste albums van 2002.


GEOGADDI LOST ALLE HOOGGESPANNEN VERWACHTINGEN IN. Opnieuw creëert 'Boards' zijn eigen sprookjeswereld vol echo's uit een onbekend verleden - een universum ver weg van het hier en nu.

Mike reageert instemmend.
We proberen zo weinig mogelijk aanknopingspunten met het heden te hebben. Ik hoop dat onze muziek over dertig jaar nog steeds gewaardeerd wordt zonder een bepaalde tijd of trend of scene in herinnering te roepen. Onze favoriete muziek is altijd melancholisch en droevig geweest, en ook een beetje beschadigd - als het geluid van een verroeste film. Dat effect maakt het voor veel mensen nostalgisch. Onze intentie is om de mensen iets vertrouwds te geven en ze tegelijkertijd te vervreemden van de wereld die zij kennen.
Een deel van ons wil dat alles perfect is,
vult Marcus aan,
een ander deel probeert alles wat we zorgvuldig opgebouwd hebben weer kapot te maken, maar wel op een briljante manier.
Elektronische muziek wordt steevast geassocieerd met sciencefiction, futurisme, cyberspace, een wereld van robots en machinerie. Een cliché, meent Mike.
In de jaren '70, toen Kraftwerk op zijn hoogtepunt was, was dit misschien nog wel origineel, nu getuigt het van weinig originaliteit en verbeeldingsvermogen.
In de muziek van Boards Of Canada weerklinkt de onschuld van een kind, het wonder der natuur, het eeuwenoude land van onze voorvaderen. Hier wordt geen toekomst geschetst, maar een herinnering uit het collectieve onderbewustzijn opgegraven. Het terughalen van een verloren jeugd bijvoorbeeld.
Een terugkerend thema in onze muziek,
aldus Mike,
omdat het mij persoonlijk erg bezighoudt. Ik word verdrietig als ik aan mijn kindertijd terugdenk en verdriet is de beste inspiratiebron die er is.
Welke herinnering ligt ten grondslag aan 1969, het enige vocale nummer op Geogaddi, vraag ik. Mike cryptisch:
1969 in the sunshine verwijst naar een bepaalde periode in het bestaan van een religieuze groepering en tegelijkertijd naar die tijd in het algemeen. Het ademt de hoop van een optimistische generatie die zich niet bewust is van het onheil dat haar te wachten staat.
De muziek van Boards Of Canada zit vol met dit soort geheimzinnige boodschappen en verwijzinkjes.
Ze geven de muziek een context,
legt Marcus uit,
en in sommige gevallen een heel specifieke betekenis.
Nummers als Music Is Math, A Is To B As B Is To C en The Smallest Weird Number ('70' volgens Mike) verraden een bovenmatige interesse voor wiskunde. Een interesse die als een rode draad over Geogaddi heenloopt, bekent Mike. Marcus bevestigt zelfs het gerucht dat het duo zo nu en dan de cijferreeks van Fibonacci (1, 2, 3, 5, 8,13 enzovoort) in zijn composities verwerkt.
En ook wel andere vergelijkingen en quotaties,
meldt hij,
maar meestal maken we gewoon muziek zoals ieder ander.


BOARDS OF CANADA IS EEN TYPISCHE EXPONENT VAN DE WARP-SCHOOL. De abstracte elektronica van Aphex Twin, Autechre en Plaid echoot zachtjes na in de warme sound van de Schotten, die op hun beurt weer vele nieuwe techneuten beïnvloeden, en ook megacts als Radiohead, U2 en Björk trouwens. Boards Of Canada is de belangrijkste vernieuwer binnen de elektronische muziek van de laatste jaren. Veel recensenten herkennen echter vooral een folk-invloed in hun muziek.

Terecht, stelt Mike.
Onze meeste muzikale invloeden liggen in de folk, niet in de elektronische muziek. Op Geogaddi hebben we een hoop akoestische instrumenten gebruikt, zij het niet op een herkenbare manier. We zijn gek op artiesten als Joni Mitchell en The Incredible Stringband. Hun muziek bezit een zekere puurheid, en dat is waar wij op onze manier ook naar streven. We hebben zelf ook het nodige in die stijl opgenomen, maar daar is nog niets van uitgebracht.
Leg voor de grap de hoes van Music Has The Right To Children naast die van The Hangman's Beautiful Daughter van The Incredible Stringband (uit '68, het toppunt van hun psychedelische periode) en je hebt een mooi paar.
Precies!
antwoordt Marcus.
We hebben alle Stringband-platen! Sterker nog, ze komen uit hetzelfde plaatsje als waar wij nu wonen. Af en toe zien we elkaar. Ik herken in hun muziek een sterke verbondenheid met het platteland, een band die wij 66k voelen. Persoonlijk vind ik hen een van belangrijkste en meest onderschatte bands van de laatste veertig jaar.
Net als veel oude volksmuziek is de muziek van Boards Of Canada vergeven van heidense symboliek.
Wij zijn geĂŻnteresseerd in de heidense roots van onze samenleving,
bevestigt Mike,
met ai zijn rituelen en oude levenswijzen. De meeste mensen schijnen te vergeten dat de moderne tijd waarin wij leven ook maar van voorbijgaande aard is. Je kunt op z'n minst een alternatief voor de huidige maatschappij en manier van leven bestuderen. Kijk naar iemand als Julian Cope, die gebruikt deze invloeden om zijn muziek op een unieke wijze te verrijken. Maar die invloeden kunnen zich ook op een andere wijze, buiten de muziek, manifesteren.
Marcus:
Wij zijn fanatieke anti-globalisten. Wij zijn fel tegen economische groei als drogreden voor industrialisatie. Het stoort mij dat er steeds meer technologie wordt geproduceerd om het produceren, en niet omdat we al die rotzooi nodig hebben. lk hoorde laatst een politicus zeggen dat een afname van de bevolking een ramp voor Engeland zou betekenen, en dat als we niet snel nog meer huizen zouden bouwen de kwaliteit van het leven zou afnemen en de economie zou instorten. Dat is aperte onzin. Wanneer stoppen ze? Als al het land is volgebouwd met huizen en fabrieken? Mijn grootste probleem met de wereld is dat we genoeg ruimte en middelen hebben om iedereen een menswaardig bestaan te geven en dat dit gewoon niet gebeurt. George Bush had gelijk toen hij sprak van de As van het Kwaad: hij ligt op de stoep voor de multinationals en de overheid! Wij proberen het idee van een minder verstedelijkt leven in onze muziek te laten doorklinken, zonder nou te willen prediken.
Hoe Kwaad is Boards Of Canada eigenlijk, vraag je je af na het zien van het occulte artwork van Geogaddi (duur: 66 minuten en 6 seconden) en een nummer als The Devil Is In The Details. Mike:
As evil as Mickey Mouse.


VEEL DANCECOMPILATIES PLAATSEN BOARDS OF CANADA ONDER DE NOEMER CHILL-OUT.
Belachelijk,
sneert Marcus.
Ik weet niet eens wat chili-out is.
Maakt Boards Of Canada dan wel dance? Ook dat is discutabel. In de NME werd - met instemming van het duo - de vergelijking met Loveless van My Bloody Valentine gemaakt. Boards Of Canada is even ondoorgrondelijk. Hun muziek mist de dynamiek van de dansvloer. Het ritme van de natuur gaat hen snel genoeg. Eb en vloed. De zon en de maan. Het ontluiken van een bloem - en hoe de Fibonacci-reeks zich openbaart in het patroon van de bladeren van sommige bloemen, planten en vruchten. Van die dingen. Kom daar maar eens om bij The Chemical Brothers! Dansmuziek bouwt op naar een hoogtepunt, verticaal, langs alsmaar hetzelfde ritme. Boards Of Canada componeert horizontaal, wisselt voortdurend van klank en kleur, en als de melodie eenmaal staat, verdwijnt zij net zo snel als zij gekomen is - als een wolk die even een herkenbare vorm aanneemt, een sneeuwvlok die smelt in je hand. De CD's van Boards Of Canada grossieren in korte, ongrijpbare miniatuurtjes, muziekjes eigenlijk, die voorbij zijn voordat je het weet. Het zijn de klanken bij de beelden in hun hoofd. Beelden van een vulkanische uitbarsting (Gyroscope) of een documentaire over zuinig energieverbruik (Energy Warning), ongetwijfeld geĂŻnspireerd op een oude uitzending van de National Film Board Of Canada. Of een van hun eigen films, want die maken ze ook, als onderdeel van het collectief Music 70.
Die korte muziekjes,
schrijft Mike,
daar maken we er veel meer van dan van onze echte nummers, en eigenlijk zijn ze onze favoriete nummers. Als we zouden willen, brengen we zo tien albums met dit soort miniatuurtjes uit. Op Geogaddi staan alleen de tracks die in de lijn van het verhaal pasten. Je moet het album als Ă©Ă©n geheel luisteren, als een soundtrack bij een bizarre film of musical. Het thema is verwarring, duisternis, een soort Alice In Wonderlandachtig avontuur. Music Has The Right To Chiidren was een plaat voor in de buitenlucht, op een koude, heldere dag met een strakblauwe hemel. Geogaddi is meer een nachtmerrie vol kwade geesten en duistere machten, een claustrofobische trip die eindigt met Corsair, het licht aan het einde van de tunnel. Voor ons is een album niet meer dan het bij elkaar harken van de juiste tracks. We zijn alweer bezig ons volgende album samen te stellen.

Halleluja!

In mijn gedachten begint het zachtjes te sneeuwen.

Boards Of Canada heeft vooralsnog geen plannen om te gaan optreden, maar houdt alle opties open. Het gerucht dat Warp het eigen beheer-werk opnieuw gaat uitbrengen wordt bevestigd noch tegengesproken. Voor het volledige e-mail interview kun je terecht op www.oor.nl.

Note: Translated by ChatGPT-4o


Introducing: Boards Of Canada. Enigmatic electronic duo from Scotland. Creators of the enchantingly beautiful CDs Music has the Right to Children and Geogaddi. Beat freaks with a love for folk artists like Jonie Mitchell and The Incredible String Band. Inspirations for Radiohead and many others. At the center of a genuine cult following. Ambition: to remain invisible.


By Koen Poolman

Reading time: 7'32""

We're at our studio right now, the whole place is under snow at the moment. Everything's cool.

The beginning of an email correspondence with Marcus Eoin (28) - real name Marcus Es - and Michael 'Mike' Sandison (30), together Boards Of Canada. Media-shy electronic duo hiding out in their studio in an abandoned nuclear bunker in the wild nature of the Pentland Hills, on the east coast of Scotland. Boards Of Canada likes to keep its distance. From the media, from fans (performances are rare), from their colleagues (whoever you talk to, no one has ever met them), and certainly from the music industry. No one seems to know them personally.

We keep in touch with no one in the music world. It's not worth it. It's simply not our world.

Boards Of Canada, a myth in a world of hypes and trends.


IT IS FEBRUARY 28, 2002, IT IS SNOWING IN SCOTLAND and Boards Of Canada speaks, after four years of silence and one previous contact that led nowhere. Then, around the release of the mini-CD In A Beautiful Place Out In The Country (late '00), they did only three interviews. Worldwide. Now there are a few more — not many — more. Via email. It's either that or nothing.

We prefer not to publicize our music at all

, writes Mike Sandison in his first response.

We would rather people discover our music themselves, so they can form a personal connection with it.

Music that gets caught up in the whirl of the music industry loses its purity and innocence and thus its credibility, the duo firmly believes. The only alternative is to release your records quietly and then step away from them. Let the consumer find it and decide for themselves.

The music of Boards Of Canada should slowly creep up on you,

Mike emphasizes.

Our records are not meant to grab you by the throat immediately. To quote Jack Dangers of Meat Beat Manifesto: Play twice before listening.

This was indeed the case with Music Has The Right To Children ('98). The official debut came quietly, began to grow slowly, and has now reached almost mythical proportions. It is a modern classic, timeless and genreless. Pure beauty, nostalgia, and mystique captured in abstract beats, warm synthesizers, comforting melodies, and alienating children's voices: distorted, cut up, and played backward. Music for a fairy tale that ends badly. Playful, innocent, but with a dark undertone. Bit by bit, the mystery around the creators also unfolded. Mike Sandison and Marcus Eoin supposedly. Two recluses from Scotland, it soon became clear. As children, they both emigrated to Alberta, where they spent hours glued to the TV, mesmerized by the images and music of the National Film Board Of Canada nature documentaries. The background music of these films still serves as a significant influence on their own work. Via a stopover in southern England, the two (no family relation) returned to the east coast of Scotland in the early '80s. They have been playing together in a band since '86. Between '92 and '94, they organized Redmoon parties, which were actually happenings, in a ruin in the wilderness of the Pentland Hills, near Edinburgh. Attractions: Super-8 films from their youth, old children's songs mixed over electronic beats, a large campfire, and a red moon. In their own Hexagon Sun studio, located in a bunker in the hills near the ruin, they recorded their first LP, Twoism ('95), which found its way to Skam through Autechre's Sean Booth a year later. The Manchester label immediately contacted the Scots and released the mini-LP Hi Scores ('96). Warp then signed them, and the story with Music Has The Right To Children truly began. Four years later, a genuine cult has erupted around the duo - a recent auction on eBay saw one of the hundred LPs of Twoism sell for 710 pounds - and Geogaddi is already one of the most anticipated albums of 2002.


GEOGADDI MEETS ALL HIGH EXPECTATIONS. Again, 'Boards' creates its own fairytale world full of echoes from an unknown past - a universe far removed from the here and now.


Mike agrees.

We try to have as few links with the present as possible. I hope our music will still be appreciated thirty years from now without evoking a specific time, trend, or scene. Our favorite music has always been melancholic and sad, and also a bit damaged - like the sound of a rusty film. That effect makes it nostalgic for many people. Our intention is to give people something familiar while simultaneously alienating them from the world they know.
A part of us wants everything to be perfect

, Marcus adds,

another part tries to destroy everything we've carefully built, but in a brilliant way.

Electronic music is always associated with science fiction, futurism, cyberspace, a world of robots and machinery. A cliché, according to Mike.

In the '70s, when Kraftwerk was at its peak, this might have been original, but now it shows little originality and imagination.

In the music of Boards Of Canada, the innocence of a child, the wonder of nature, and the ancient land of our ancestors resonate. This does not depict a future but unearths a memory from the collective subconscious. Like the return to a lost childhood.

A recurring theme in our music

, says Mike,

because it preoccupies me personally. I get sad when I think back to my childhood, and sadness is the best source of inspiration there is.
What memory underlies "1969" the only vocal track on Geogaddi
, I ask. Mike cryptically:
"1969" in the sunshine refers to a certain period in the existence of a religious group and simultaneously to that time in general. It breathes the hope of an optimistic generation unaware of the disaster awaiting it.
The music of Boards Of Canada is full of such mysterious messages and references.
They give the music context,

explains Marcus,

and in some cases, a very specific meaning.

Tracks like "Music Is Math," "A Is To B As B Is To C" and "The Smallest Weird Number" ('70' according to Mike) reveal an above-average interest in mathematics. An interest that runs like a thread through Geogaddi, Mike admits. Marcus even confirms the rumor that the duo occasionally incorporates the Fibonacci sequence (1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, etc.) into their compositions.

And other equations and quotations,

he adds,

but mostly we just make music like everyone else.


BOARDS OF CANADA IS A TYPICAL EXPONENT OF THE WARP SCHOOL. The abstract electronics of Aphex Twin, Autechre, and Plaid gently echo in the warm sound of the Scots, who in turn influence many new technicians, and even mega acts like Radiohead, U2, and Björk. Boards Of Canada is the most important innovator in electronic music in recent years. Many reviewers, however, mostly recognize a folk influence in their music.


Rightly so, says Mike.

Most of our musical influences lie in folk, not electronic music. On Geogaddi we used a lot of acoustic instruments, albeit not in a recognizable way. We love artists like Joni Mitchell and The Incredible String Band. Their music has a certain purity, and that is what we strive for in our way. We've recorded quite a bit in that style ourselves, but none of it has been released yet.
For fun, put the cover of Music has the Right to Children next to The Hangman's Beautiful Daughter by The Incredible String Band (from '68, the peak of their psychedelic period), and you have a nice pair.
Exactly!

Marcus responds.

We have all the String Band records! In fact, they come from the same town where we now live. We see each other occasionally. I recognize a strong connection to the countryside in their music, a connection we also feel. Personally, I consider them one of the most important and underrated bands of the last forty years.
Like much old folk music, the music of Boards Of Canada is full of pagan symbolism.
We are interested in the pagan roots of our society,

Mike confirms,

with all its rituals and ancient ways of life. Most people seem to forget that the modern age we live in is also transient. You can at least study an alternative to the current society and way of life. Look at someone like Julian Cope, who uses these influences to enrich his music uniquely. But those influences can also manifest themselves in other ways, outside of music.

Marcus:

We are ardent anti-globalists. We are vehemently against economic growth as a pretext for industrialization. It bothers me that more and more technology is being produced just for the sake of production, not because we need all that junk. I recently heard a politician say that a decrease in population would be a disaster for England and that if we don't quickly build more houses, the quality of life would decline, and the economy would collapse. That is utter nonsense. When will they stop? When all the land is covered with houses and factories? My biggest problem with the world is that we have enough space and resources to give everyone a dignified existence, and it just doesn't happen. George Bush was right when he spoke of the Axis of Evil: it's on the doorstep of the multinationals and the government! We try to reflect the idea of a less urbanized life in our music without preaching.
How evil is Boards of Canada, you might wonder after seeing the occult artwork of Geogaddi (duration: 66 minutes and 6 seconds) and a track like "The Devil Is In The Details".

Mike:

As evil as Mickey Mouse.
Many dance compilations classify Boards of Canada under the chill-out genre.
Ridiculous,

scoffs Marcus.

I don't even know what chill-out is.

So, does Boards of Canada make dance music? That's also debatable. In the NME, a comparison was made—with the duo's approval—to Lovess by My Bloody Valentine. Boards of Canada is just as inscrutable. Their music lacks the dynamics of the dance floor. The rhythm of nature suits them just fine. Ebb and flow. The sun and the moon. The blooming of a flower—and how the Fibonacci sequence reveals itself in the pattern of leaves on some flowers, plants, and fruits. Things like that. Try finding that with The Chemical Brothers! Dance music builds up to a climax, vertically, along the same rhythm. Boards of Canada composes horizontally, constantly changing tone and color, and once the melody is set, it disappears as quickly as it came—like a cloud briefly forming a recognizable shape, a snowflake melting in your hand. Boards of Canada's CDs are filled with short, elusive miniatures, little pieces of music that are over before you know it. They are the sounds to the images in their heads. Images of a volcanic eruption ("Gyroscope") or a documentary on energy conservation ("Energy Warning"), undoubtedly inspired by an old broadcast from the National Film Board of Canada. Or one of their own films, as they also make those as part of the collective Music 70.

Those short pieces,

writes Mike,

we make many more of those than our actual tracks, and they are actually our favorite pieces. If we wanted, we could release ten albums with these miniatures. On Geogaddi, only the tracks that fit the storyline were included. You need to listen to the album as a whole, like a soundtrack to a bizarre film or musical. The theme is confusion, darkness, a sort of Alice in Wonderland adventure. Music Has the Right to Children was an album for the outdoors, on a cold, clear day with a bright blue sky. Geogaddi is more like a nightmare full of evil spirits and dark forces, a claustrophobic trip that ends with "Corsair", the light at the end of the tunnel. For us, an album is nothing more than collecting the right tracks. We are already working on putting together our next album.
Hallelujah!

In my mind, it starts to snow gently.

Boards of Canada has no plans to perform at this time, but they are keeping all options open. The rumor that Warp will re-release their self-produced work is neither confirmed nor denied. For the full email interview, visit www.oor.nl.


Generazione Laptop

title Generazione Laptop
author Rossano Lo Mele
publication Rumore
date 2002/03
issue 122
pages 48-50
Generazione Laptop is an interview (in Italian) by Rossano Lo Mele originally published Mar. 2002 in Rumore magazine Number 122, pp. 48-50.

This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.

Generazione Laptop

Elusivi e restii a qualsiasi forma di promozione, riaffiorano i Boards Of Canada. Ossia Mike Sandison e Marcus Eoin. Il loro debutto di qualche anno fa ('98) - Music Has the Right to Children - Ăš semplicemente una delle piĂč belle cose accadute alla musica negli ultimi anni: qualcuno lo considera il pioniere di tutta la cosiddetta chili-out "intelligente". Altri - nientemeno - un disco psichedelico. Sia come sia, subito dopo: remix, un ep e l'album Geogaddi - piĂč volte rinviato - finalmente fuori. La presentazione ufficiale tenutasi a Londra hanno preferito disertarla, mandando in loro vece un video. Che sembra un po' come quando gli Aerosmith o chi per loro vincono un qualche grammy per qualche contest di MTV e invece di andarlo a ritirare mandano un filmato dove ringraziano Dio e i fan. La voglia d'invisibilitĂ  ormai ce la siamo tolta. Quella di sentire i dischi del duo non ancora: dal Canada al nord della Scozia. Dopo lunghe indagini, ecco infine l'intervista.


Meno di sessant'anni in due, la leggenda vuole che i Boards Of Canada abbiano iniziato a produrre musica insieme giĂ  da piccolissimi: dalla fine degli anni '70, cioĂš!? Possibile?
Mike: SĂŹ, abbiamo cominciato a registrare e suonare la nostra musica da bambini, ma per la veritĂ  la prima versione della band Ăš stata formata nel 1983. All'epoca usavamo solo dei sintetizzatori: i sequencer erano davvero rari e carissimi. Anzi, a dirla tutta, non sapevamo neanche cosa fosse un sequencer. Quindi, come Ăš accaduto per molti, abbiamo cominciato proprio da una drum machine. Tutti i cambiamenti che ci sono stati all'interno della musica elettronica negli ultimi due decenni sono perciĂČ legati agli sviluppi della tecnologia necessaria proprio per fare musica. Una volta la gente era limitata dalla tecnologia, per cui doveva adeguarsi tirando fuori ciĂČ che poteva da quel poco che aveva. Adesso chiunque puĂČ registrare ciĂČ che vuole, le possibilitĂ  sono infinite, il che significa che molti produttori sono diventati pigri.
Non che voi siate degli stakanovisti, del resto ...
Marcus: Subito dopo il primo album abbiano fatto un sacco di remix e ricambiato parecchi favori a una serie di amici e musicisti. Il che ci ha portato via molto tempo. Quindi abbiamo deciso di fermarci coi remix. In contemporanea abbiamo apportato una serie di modifiche al nostro studio: perciĂČ la veritĂ  Ăš che abbiamo lavorato sodo per due anni registrando tanto di quel materiale da avere giĂ  pronti numerosi album.
GiĂ , lo studio: ma dove lavorano i Boards Of Canada?
Mike: Si tratta di un piccolo studio con un caminetto aperto e pareti di vetro. Tutto, anche il soffitto, Ăš pieno di strumenti e strani congegni per registrare.
E che tipo di aggeggi usate?
Marcus: Il nostro equipaggiamento Ăš composto di apparecchi pieni di vecchie valvole. Un sintetizzatore che usiamo molto Ăš un synth personalizzato risalente al 1971. Si chiama Chrome Larynx e fu costruito da un amico di mio padre che faceva il tecnico in ospedale. Era diviso in cinque sezioni che servivano per modellare meglio le vocali a, e, i, o, u all'interno dei suoni che il paziente aveva creato. Chiunque usa il proprio equipaggiamento in maniera diversa, quindi noi potremmo utilizzare uno strumento che giĂ  altri hanno, ma forse lo manipoliamo in modo unico. Comunque non usiamo laptop per comporre musica.
Cosa vi distanzia dai terroristi del portatile?
Mike: Be', la melodia Ăš sempre stata il fulcro di tutta la nostra musica, sin da quando eravamo teenager. Credo riguardi la volontĂ  di creare qualcosa di eterno. Voglio dire: siamo tuttora innamorati degli artisti che hanno composto melodie senza tempo negli anni '60 e '70, e non riesco proprio a immaginare qualcuno nel futuro che - col desiderio di documentarsi sui giorni nostri - decidesse di tenere per buono quello stile di elettronica glitch e beat-only che c'Ăš in giro adesso. In fondo si tratta solo di un passaggio transitorio dovuto alla moda.
Problemi anche con l'elettronica "che si balla"?
Marcus: Credo si tratti di un'arma a doppio taglio. Il tipo di tecnologia che c'Ăš in giro ora dovrebbe significare che le persone dovrebbero essere in grado di creare musica davvero bizzarra. Qualcuno lo sta facendo, ma in realtĂ  avverto che un sacco di produttori dance cercano solo di assomigliarsi, anche solo per arrivare a esibirsi in un club o qualcosa del genere. Certo non posso giudicare tutta la musica, perchĂ© sono troppo impegnato per seguire tutto quello che esce: quindi mi sarĂČ senz'altro perso un bel po' di ottima dance. So che vorreste che vi dicessi proprio questo, ma siamo di nuovo al punto di prima: la cosa che piĂč di disturba Ăš la mancanza di melodia. Quasi tutto quello che circola Ăš solo musica basata sul ritmo programmato, perchĂ© la maggior parte dei produttori non Ăš in grado di maneggiare una semplice tastiera midi. Quindi cosa fanno? Usano solo timbri di batteria a caso messi in serie, sĂšnza nessuna melodia. Una musica del genere non puĂČ fornirmi nessuna ispirazione: credo che l'hip hop e l'R&B siano stati molto piĂč avventurosi negli ultimi anni.
Da dove prendete l'ispirazione, allora?
Marcus: Sento forti connessioni con quei musicisti che sono anche produttori. Dove la tessitura ritmica e la produzione sono giĂ  da soli metĂ  del processo creativo. Specialmente le persone che capiscono che l'imperfezione Ăš sovente piĂč bella e seducente della musica 'corretta ed educata'. Kevin Shields dei My Bloody Valentine, RZA del Wu Tang, Clouddead e Dose One.
Questo ci porta ai dischi dell'anno ...
Marcus: Molto semplicemente All ls Dream dei Mercury Rev. Penso sia bello, punto. Suona come la colonna sonora di un film incredibile. Piace anche alla mia ragazza.
Mike: Direi l'album dei Clouddead, perchĂ© ha delle melodie sorprendenti; e l'intelligenza e la poesia del rap Ăš cento volte piĂč apprezzabile dei testi della maggior parte degli altri autori. Mi Ăš piaciuto anche Sugar & Feather degli Aspera.
Ma, alla fine, chi sono i Boards Of Canada? Cosa significa il nome e il titolo del nuovo Geogaddi?
Mike: Il titolo del disco ha diversi significati e vogliamo che siano gli ascoltatori a scegliere quello che preferiscono.
Marcus: Il nome del gruppo Ăš invece un tributo al National Film Board Of Canada che ha fatto centinaia di documentari e film d'animazione che guardavamo quando eravamo piccoli. Ora viviamo sulle colline subito fuori Edinburgo. Passiamo tutto il giorno a scrivere musica e quando non componiamo cerchiamo di stare lontani dallo studio il piĂč possibile, cosĂŹ passiamo il tempo fuori.
E la notte?
Mike: È da un po' di anni che non facciamo piĂč i dj. Ci divertivamo di piĂč quando nei club c'era ancora una certa innocenza, la volontĂ  di celebrare e apprezzare la buona musica. Non frequentiamo piĂč i club perchĂ© oggi sono tutti uguali. Preferiamo andare ai concerti. E quando ci viene voglia di mettere su dei dischi lo facciamo per conto nostro, in privato, al limite a qualche party.
Allora Ăš vero che siete anche voi invisibili: con tutta questa strategia di non mettere in circolazione copie promozionali del disco ...
Mike: L'abbiamo fatto per due ragioni. 1) Non vogliamo che venga detto alle persone che devono comprare il nostro disco, ma preferiamo che lo scoprano per conto loro e facendo le loro scelte. 2) Il nostro precedente ep Ăš stato immesso in rete due mesi prima dell'uscita proprio da un giornalista che aveva ricevuto una copia promo.
Ma dopo vent'anni circa di musica, cosa vi tiene ancora legati: siete riusciti a suonare la musica che davvero volevate o state ancora aspettando il vostro capolavoro?
Mike: Credo che la cosa: piĂč bella del sentire musica sia quella di sperare di incontrare qualcosa di inedito, mai sentito prima. Come una melodia completamente nuova o una strana tessitura ritmica. Vale lo stesso per la composizione: cercare di fare qualcosa di originale e sorprendente, ma anche bello e affascinante.
Marcus: Da bambino, quando suonavo il piano, mi resi conto che mi divertivo molto di piĂč a suonare le mie melodie che quelle che mi dava il professore come compiti. E dove vivevo io non c'era molto da fare, quindi dovevi crearti da solo i tuoi divertimenti. In effetti non credo che abbiamo ancora registrato quello che immaginavamo esattamente, ma ci siamo vicini. Stiamo sempre lavorando attorno al nostro elusivo capolavoro.
Eppure in molti, nel definire giĂ  il vostro esordio come un caposaldo, gli appiccicarono l'etichetta di album psichedelico ...
Mike: Ci piace l'arte psichedelica, ma non unita alla cultura hippie. Per noi psichedelica Ăš quella strana esperienza scientifica che uno puĂČ avere ascoltando musica strana o l'assumere sostanze che alterino o danneggino la capacitĂ  del cervello di elaborare informazioni. In ogni caso Ăš la possibilitĂ  di riconoscere qualcosa di divertente nella sua frivolezza e peculiaritĂ , ma in qualche modo legata all'ordine e alla matematica. Gli esseri umani hanno avuto di queste esperienze per migliaia di anni, non Ăš solo un fenomeno inventato dagli emarginati degli anni '60.
A proposito di umanità ed evoluzione: di recente il pianista Brad Mehldau ha attaccato sequencer e campionatori perché responsabili, a sua detta - tramite l'iterazione infinita del medesimo frammento sonoro - di distorcere l'idea di mortalità propria dell'uomo ...
Marcus: Sono d'accordo sĂŹ e no. I computer, senza un essere umano al controllo, sono inutili. Se qualcuno riesce a usarli per creare forme d'arte uniche e speciali, allora Ăš una grande cosa. Si tratta di un nuovo aggeggio per fare un vecchio mestiere, cioĂš comporre musica. Viceversa, criticare l'uso del computer per fare musica Ăš un po' come l'uomo delle caverne che dipinge con le dita che rimprovera a Leonardo Da Vinci di usare il pennello e il cavalletto.
E dove saranno i Boards Of Canada tra dieci anni?
Mike: Ghiacciati in abiti spaziali color argento, su un'arca, mentre cercano di sfuggire al pianeta terra ormai morente.

Note: Translated by ChatGPT-4o


Generation Laptop

Elusive and resistant to any form of promotion, Boards Of Canada resurface. This refers to Mike Sandison and Marcus Eoin. Their debut from a few years ago ('98) - Music Has the Right to Children - is simply one of the most beautiful things that have happened to music in recent years: some consider it the pioneer of all so-called "intelligent" chill-out music. Others, no less, call it a psychedelic album. Be that as it may, shortly after: remixes, an EP, and the much-delayed album Geogaddi finally released. They preferred to skip the official presentation held in London, sending a video in their place. It's somewhat like when Aerosmith or whoever wins some Grammy for some MTV contest and instead of going to receive it, they send a video thanking God and the fans. We've gotten over our desire for invisibility. The desire to listen to the duo's records, however, remains: from Canada to the north of Scotland. After extensive investigations, here is finally the interview.

Less than sixty years between the two of them, legend has it that Boards Of Canada started producing music together from a very young age: since the late '70s, that is!? Is it possible?
Mike: Yes, we started recording and playing our music as children, but the truth is the first version of the band was formed in 1983. At the time, we only used synthesizers: sequencers were really rare and expensive. Actually, to tell the truth, we didn't even know what a sequencer was. So, like many others, we started with a drum machine. All the changes that have taken place in electronic music over the past two decades are therefore linked to technological developments necessary to make music. Once, people were limited by technology, so they had to make do with what little they had. Now anyone can record whatever they want, the possibilities are endless, which means many producers have become lazy.
Not that you are workaholics, after all...
Marcus: Right after the first album, we did a lot of remixes and returned many favors to a series of friends and musicians. This took up a lot of time. So we decided to stop with the remixes. At the same time, we made a series of changes to our studio: so the truth is we worked hard for two years, recording so much material that we already have several albums ready.
Yes, the studio: but where do Boards Of Canada work?
Mike: It's a small studio with an open fireplace and glass walls. Everything, even the ceiling, is full of instruments and strange recording gadgets.
And what kind of gadgets do you use?
Marcus: Our equipment consists of devices full of old tubes. One synthesizer we use a lot is a custom synth from 1971. It's called Chrome Larynx and was built by a friend of my father who was a technician in a hospital. It was divided into five sections that were used to better shape the vowels a, e, i, o, u within the sounds the patient had created. Everyone uses their equipment differently, so we might use a tool that others already have, but perhaps we manipulate it uniquely. However, we don't use laptops to compose music.
What sets you apart from the laptop terrorists?
Mike: Well, melody has always been the core of all our music since we were teenagers. I think it's about the desire to create something eternal. I mean: we are still in love with artists who composed timeless melodies in the '60s and '70s, and I just can't imagine someone in the future wanting to document these days by keeping in mind the glitch and beat-only electronic style that's around now. After all, it's just a transient phase due to fashion.
Any issues with "danceable" electronics?
Marcus: I think it's a double-edged sword. The kind of technology available now should mean people are capable of creating really bizarre music. Some are doing it, but in reality, I feel that a lot of dance producers are just trying to sound alike, just to get to perform in a club or something like that. Of course, I can't judge all music because I'm too busy to follow everything that comes out, so I must have missed a lot of great dance music. I know you'd like me to say just that, but we're back to the same point: the thing that disturbs me the most is the lack of melody. Almost everything out there is just rhythm-based music because most producers can't handle a simple midi keyboard. So what do they do? They just use random drum sounds put in series, without any melody. Such music can't provide me with any inspiration: I think hip hop and R&B have been much more adventurous in recent years.
So where do you get your inspiration from?
Marcus: I feel strong connections with those musicians who are also producers. Where rhythmic texture and production are already half of the creative process. Especially people who understand that imperfection is often more beautiful and seductive than "correct and polite" music. Kevin Shields of My Bloody Valentine, RZA of Wu-Tang, Clouddead, and Dose One.
This brings us to the albums of the year...
Marcus: Quite simply All Is Dream by Mercury Rev. I think it's beautiful, period. It sounds like the soundtrack to an incredible movie. My girlfriend likes it too.
Mike: I'd say the Clouddead album because it has amazing melodies; and the intelligence and poetry of the rap are a hundred times more appreciable than the lyrics of most other authors. I also liked Sugar & Feather by Aspera.
But, in the end, who are Boards Of Canada? What does the name and the title of the new Geogaddi mean?
Mike: The album title has several meanings and we want listeners to choose the one they prefer.
Marcus: The band name is a tribute to the National Film Board Of Canada which made hundreds of documentaries and animated films we watched when we were little. We now live in the hills just outside Edinburgh. We spend all day writing music and when we're not composing we try to stay away from the studio as much as possible, so we spend time outdoors.
And at night?
Mike: It's been a few years since we last DJed. We had more fun when there was still a certain innocence in clubs, the willingness to celebrate and appreciate good music. We no longer go to clubs because today they're all the same. We prefer going to concerts. And when we feel like playing records, we do it on our own, in private, maybe at some party.
So it's true you're also invisible: with this strategy of not circulating promotional copies of the record...
Mike: We did it for two reasons. 1) We don't want people to be told they must buy our record, but we prefer they discover it on their own and make their own choices. 2) Our previous EP was leaked online two months before its release by a journalist who had received a promo copy.
But after about twenty years of music, what keeps you still tied: have you managed to play the music you really wanted or are you still waiting for your masterpiece?
Mike: I think the most beautiful thing about listening to music is hoping to encounter something new, never heard before. Like a completely new melody or a strange rhythmic texture. The same goes for composition: trying to do something original and surprising, but also beautiful and fascinating.
Marcus: As a child, when I played the piano, I realized I had much more fun playing my melodies than those my teacher gave me as homework. And where I lived there wasn't much to do, so you had to create your own fun. In fact, I don't think we've yet recorded what we exactly envisioned, but we're close. We're always working around our elusive masterpiece.
Yet many, in defining your debut as a cornerstone, labeled it a psychedelic album...
Mike: We like psychedelic art, but not tied to hippie culture. For us, psychedelic is that strange scientific experience one can have by listening to strange music or taking substances that alter or damage the brain's ability to process information. In any case, it's the ability to recognize something fun in its frivolity and peculiarity, but somehow linked to order and mathematics. Humans have had these experiences for thousands of years, it's not just a phenomenon invented by the '60s outcasts.
Speaking of humanity and evolution: recently pianist Brad Meldau attacked sequencers and samplers, claiming they - through the infinite iteration of the same sound fragment - distort the idea of human mortality...
Marcus: I agree, yes and no. Computers, without a human in control, are useless. If someone can use them to create unique and special art forms, then it's a great thing. It's a new gadget for an old job, that is composing music. Conversely, criticizing the use of computers to make music is a bit like the caveman painting with his fingers blaming Leonardo Da Vinci for using a brush and easel.
And where will Boards Of Canada be in ten years?
Mike: Frozen in silver space suits, on an ark, trying to escape the now-dying planet Earth.



Terra Incognita

title Terra Incognita
author Patrice Bardot
publication Trax
date 2002/03
issue 50
pages 60-62
Terra Incognita is an interview (in French) by Patrice Bardot originally published Mar. 2002 in Trax magazine Number 50, pp. 60-62.

This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.

Interview Par Mail

Texte: Patrice Bardot

Photos: Peter Iain Campbell


Le splendide Geogaddi maroue le grand retour du cultissime Boards of Canada groupe le plus mystérieux de toute la sphÚre électronique et maßtre incontesté d'une électronica chaleureuse et nostalgique.


Enfin. Pratiquement 4 ans que nous attendions ce moment. Depuis la sortie en avril 1998 du sublime album Music Has The Right To Children, l'électronica à facettes du duo écossais Boards Of Canada n'a cessé de hanter notre platine et d'accompagner nos états d'ùmes. Certes, il y a un an et demi, les quatre titres du EP A Beautiful Place Out ln The Country composÚrent un intermÚde de choix, histoire de tromper l'attente de la tribu croissante des amoureux des compositions naïves et nostalgiques de Michael Sandison et Marcus Eoin. Et puis subitement la sortie de Geogaddi, sans cesse repoussée, fut annoncée alors que nous n'y croyions plus. Pas de disque promo envoyé à la presse, nulles déclarations fracassantes: pratiquement une stratégie de l'absence, finalement sans surprise pour un groupe qui a toujours cultivé sinon le goût du secret, au moins celui de la discrétion absolue.

PrĂ©fĂ©rant s'exprimer Ă  travers la grĂące, la mĂ©lodie, et le mystĂšre Ă©manant de leurs compositions, les deux complices refusent la plupart du temps de rencontrer les journalistes. D'oĂč l'intĂ©rĂȘt de cette rare interview, parfois cryptique, dont la concrĂ©tisation s'apparente quand mĂȘme Ă  un parcours du combattant: pas de sĂ©ances photos, questions transmises par e-mail, un label qui perd leur trace ... Mais seul le rĂ©sultat compte et aprĂšs avoir laissĂ© ces derniers temps les lĂ©gions d'imitateurs s'exprimer sur une scĂšne Ă©lectronica bien encombrĂ©e, place maintenant aux originaux.


Pourquoi tant de mystÚre autour de vos personnalités?
Mike: J'aime croire que la musique parle pour nous. Nous n'avons jamais eu l'intention de devenir des pop stars. Nous ne sommes pas intĂ©ressĂ©s par le fait de devenir des personnes connues. Nous pensons que ce genre de souhait affecte la musique. Or, c'est la musique qui doit ĂȘtre importante. Nous n'avons jamais voulu devenir un groupe culte.Nous essayons juste de rester nous-mĂȘmes, mais parfois les choses Ă©chappent Ă  notre contrĂŽle. En l'absence d'information sur nos personnalitĂ©s, les gens ont commencĂ© Ă  dĂ©lirer. DĂšs le dĂ©but, nous avers dĂ©cidĂ© de rester en retrait et de ne pas avoir nos tĂȘtes sur la couverture des magazines. Mais nous n'avions pas prĂ©vu que cette attitude rendrait les gens encore plus curieux!


Boards Of Canada est souvent qualifié de meilleur groupe électronica ...
Marcus: Quel grand compliment! Je ne sais pas si nous le mĂ©ritons. C'est un peu Ă©trange car nous avons du mal Ă  imaginer qu'il y a des personnes qui Ă©coutent notre musique. Nous sommes verrouillĂ©s sur nous-mĂȘmes, dans notre petit monde et nous pensions ĂȘtre les seuls Ă  Ă©couter notre musique.


Que pensez-vous de vos imitateurs?
Marcus: Parfois, j'entends des compositions d'autres groupes et j'a l'impression que notre son les a influencĂ©s. Mais lĂ  oĂč je vois le plus de similitude, c'est avec la musique utilisĂ©e par la publicitĂ© au cinĂ©ma ou Ă  la tĂ©lĂ©vision. C'est marrant parce qu'une de nos grosses sources d'inspiration a Ă©tĂ© justement le son des jingles et des pubs tĂ©lĂ©. Alors la boucle est bouclĂ©e, si Ă  notre tour nous influençons ceux qui composent actuellement pour la tĂ©lĂ©.


Classique est certainement l'adjectif le plus utilisé lorsque l'on évoque votre musique ...
Mike: Nous essayons effectivement de composer une musique susceptible de résister à l'épreuve du temps. C'est pour cela que nous évitons de rassembler des morceaux qui se rattachent à un style musical précis. Nous voudrions que les gens qui écouteront nos disques dans vingt ans y trouvent toujours quelque chose de spécial en dehors de la musique.


Quel Ă©tait votre Ă©tat d'esprit pendant l'Ă©laboration de Geogaddi?
Marcus: Nous l'avons réalisé sur une longue période, presque deux ans. Notre état d'esprit était donc trÚs fluctuant. Nous avons connu des hauts et des bas dans nos vies personnelles, qui se sont probablement reflétés dans les montées et les descentes de notre musique.


Geogaddi est-il un album conceptuel?
Mike: C'est une collection d'idĂ©es que nous voulions mettre en pratique. Nous n'avions rien planifiĂ©, nous Ă©tions dans un certain d'esprit et nous avons essayĂ© d'Ă©crire le plus de morceaux possibles. Au final nous pourrions rĂ©aliser un autre album qui serait totalement diffĂ©rent avec tous les morceaux que nous avons mis de cĂŽtĂ©. Geogaddi possĂšde tout de mĂȘme une sorte de thĂ©matique autour du lavage de cerveau et de la perte de mĂ©moire qui revient par bribes.


Quelle est la signification de Geogaddi?
Marcus: C'est à l'auditeur de trouver! Pour nous c'est une combinaison de mots cachant toutes les influences à la base de l'album. Si l'auditeur peut détecter ces influences, il comprendra alors ce que signifie ce Geogaddi.


Naïf, psychédélique et mélancolique: ces qualificatifs correspondent-ils à cet album?
Marcus: Oui, mais c'est encore plus que cela. Certains mots peuvent ĂȘtre trop clichĂ©s lorsque l'on dĂ©crit notre musique. Si certains titres sonnent trĂšs naĂŻfs ou simples, c'est parce que nous savons ce que nous faisons, nous les avons produits pour sonner comme cela.


Quel mot correspond le mieux à ce que vous ressentez lorsque vous composez: souffrance, joie, libération?
Mike: Les trois Ă  la fois. La souffrance, en raison de la quantitĂ© de travail que nous mettons dans chaque chanson et du temps que nous donnons de notre propre vie juste pour crĂ©er de la musique. La joie de crĂ©er une Ɠuvre qui au final nous satisfait, et qui va au-delĂ  de la rĂ©union de plusieurs sons ensemble. Et la libĂ©ration, parce qu'une fois que tu as fini un morceau ou un album, le processus t'Ă©chappe complĂštement et tu peux tracer de nouveaux plans.


Geogaddi utilise beaucoup de voix ...
Mike: Nous aimons le son des voix. Tu n'as pas besoin de comprendre le sens des mots, parfois cela suffit d'entendre une voix ou un certain mot. Nous aimons cette idée de suggérer certains mots ou phrases. Dans le futur, nous aimerions réaliser quelque chose d'entiÚrement vocal. D'ailleurs nous avons déjà enregistré des morceaux dans ce style.


Le dernier titre est complĂštement silencieux, c'est le quart d'heure d'humour de l'album?
Mike: Tout dĂ©pend si tu penses que c'est du silence ou pas .. Nous l'avons mis parce qu'il nous semblait que le titre prĂ©cĂ©dent, "Corsair", est tellement beau qu'il ne pouvait ĂȘtre suivi que par du silence, une sorte de parenthĂšse mĂ©ditative. Nous ne voulions pas que l'ambiance de ce dernier titre soit gĂąchĂ©e par le bruit du CD qui se termine ou du lecteur qui fait cling-clang.


Quel est votre secret pour rendre si organique une musique technologique?
Marcus: Je ne crois pas qu'il y ait un secret. Juste l'utilisation d'un certain nombre de possibilités techniques pour trouver des sonorités chaleureuses. Nous préférons le son des sixties et des seventies car c'etait analogique, et c'est ce qui manque à nombre de productions actuelles. Depuis que nous avons sorti Twoism en 1994, la scÚne électronique est devenue énorme. C'est inévitable car avec le développement de la technologie, il est devenu facile de composer avec un équipement minimum, un ordinateur et un logiciel. Les artistes électroniques que je respecte se souviennent que la musique c'est autre chose que des beats complexes programmés avec un logiciel. Cornelius par exemple utilise énormément la technologie mais il la rend trÚs chaleureuse, humaine. Aujourd'hui, il est trÚs facile de faire quelque chose de propre, de trÚs bien produit, parfaitement "dans le ton". Mais c'est oublier un peu vite que ce sont les imperfections des anciens enregistrements qui leur donnent leur caractÚre. En travaillant dur, il est possible de recréer ces défauts. De toute façon, nous n'écoutons pas souvent de musique électronique.


Vous attachez beaucoup d'importance aux visuels ...
Mike: Concernant la pochette, nous essayons de créer un style graphique qui complÚte le son. Nous travaillons tout le temps sur l'aspect visuel: par exemple nous créons des courts-métrages en super 8 pour accompagner nos concerts. Nous ne considérons pas cela comme accessoire car lorsque nous composons, nous imaginons souvent une bande-son pour un film ou un travail visuel. Ensuite lorsque nous donnons un concert ou lorsque nous devons décider du graphisme d'une pochette, nous aimons que ces idées soient sous-jacentes.


Comment vous relaxez-vous?
Mike: Nous sortons avec des amis, nous faisons des fĂȘtes, des feux de camp. Nous essayons d'ĂȘtre souvent dehors, de passer du temps Ă  la plage avec nos amis. Je conduis beaucoup ma voiture, parfois j'emmĂšne ma copine en France. Et nous passons des journĂ©es Ă  Ă©couter les disques que l'on nous envoie. Marcus emploie tout son temps libre a faire du snowboard en France. Nous effectuons aussi des stages de survie.


Geogaddi (Warp/Pias)

www.boardsofcanada.com

Note: translation provided by ChatGPT-4o


Email Interview

Text: Patrice Bardot

Photos: Peter Iain Campbell


The splendid Geogaddi marks the grand return of the cult-favorite Boards of Canada, the most mysterious group in the entire electronic sphere and the uncontested master of warm and nostalgic electronica.


Finally. We have been waiting for this moment for almost 4 years. Since the release of the sublime album Music Has The Right To Children in April 1998, the multifaceted electronica of the Scottish duo Boards of Canada has been haunting our turntables and accompanying our moods. Certainly, a year and a half ago, the four tracks of the EP A Beautiful Place Out In The Country provided a quality interlude, helping to ease the wait for the growing tribe of fans of Michael Sandison and Marcus Eoin's naive and nostalgic compositions. And then suddenly, the release of Geogaddi, constantly postponed, was announced when we no longer believed it. No promo records sent to the press, no sensational statements: practically a strategy of absence, ultimately unsurprising for a group that has always cultivated, if not a taste for secrecy, at least one for absolute discretion.


Preferring to express themselves through grace, melody, and the mystery emanating from their compositions, the two partners mostly refuse to meet with journalists. Hence the significance of this rare, sometimes cryptic interview, which in itself is a bit of an obstacle course: no photo sessions, questions sent by email, a label that loses their trace... But only the result matters, and after recently letting legions of imitators express themselves in an overcrowded electronica scene, it is now time for the originals.


Why so much mystery around your personalities?
Mike: I like to believe that the music speaks for us. We never intended to become pop stars. We are not interested in becoming known personalities. We think such a wish affects the music. Music should be the important thing. We never wanted to become a cult band. We are just trying to stay true to ourselves, but sometimes things get out of our control. In the absence of information about our personalities, people started to fantasise. From the beginning, we decided to stay in the background and not have our faces on magazine covers. But we didn't foresee that this attitude would make people even more curious!
Boards Of Canada is often described as the best electronica group...
Marcus: What a great compliment! I don't know if we deserve it. It's a bit strange because we have trouble imagining that there are people who listen to our music. We are locked into our own little world and we thought we were the only ones listening to our music.
What do you think of your imitators?
Marcus: Sometimes I hear compositions from other groups and feel like our sound has influenced them. But where I see the most similarity is with the music used in advertising in cinema or on television. It's funny because one of our major sources of inspiration was precisely the sound of jingles and TV ads. So the loop is complete, if in turn, we influence those who currently compose for TV.
"Classic" is certainly the most used adjective when referring to your music...
Mike: We indeed try to compose music that can stand the test of time. That's why we avoid assembling pieces that belong to a specific musical style. We would like people who listen to our records in twenty years to still find something special beyond the music.
What was your state of mind during the creation of Geogaddi?
Marcus: We created it over a long period, almost two years. Our state of mind was therefore very fluctuating. We experienced highs and lows in our personal lives, which probably reflected in the rises and falls of our music.
Is Geogaddi a conceptual album?
Mike: It's a collection of ideas that we wanted to put into practice. We didn't plan anything, we were in a certain mindset, and we tried to write as many tracks as possible. In the end, we could make another album completely different with all the tracks we left out. Geogaddi still has a sort of theme around brainwashing and memory loss that comes back in bits and pieces.
What is the meaning of Geogaddi?
Marcus: It's up to the listener to find out! For us, it's a combination of words hiding all the influences at the base of the album. If the listener can detect these influences, they will then understand what Geogaddi means.
NaĂŻve, psychedelic, and melancholic: do these adjectives correspond to this album?
Marcus: Yes, but it's even more than that. Some words can be too cliché when describing our music. If some tracks sound very naive or simple, it's because we know what we are doing; we produced them to sound like that.
Which word best describes how you feel when composing: suffering, joy, or liberation?
Mike: All three at once. The suffering, due to the amount of work we put into each song and the time we give from our own lives just to create music. The joy of creating a work that ultimately satisfies us and goes beyond just the assembly of several sounds together. And the liberation, because once you've finished a track or an album, the process completely escapes you and you can start making new plans.
Geogaddi uses a lot of voices...
Mike: We like the sound of voices. You don't need to understand the meaning of the words, sometimes just hearing a voice or a certain word is enough. We like the idea of suggesting certain words or phrases. In the future, we would like to create something entirely vocal. In fact, we have already recorded tracks in this style.
The last track is completely silent; is it the album's fifteen-minute joke?
Mike: It all depends on whether you think it's silence or not... We included it because it seemed to us that the previous track, "Corsair", is so beautiful that it could only be followed by silence, a sort of meditative parenthesis. We didn't want the ambiance of this last track to be spoiled by the noise of the CD ending or the player making clink-clank sounds.
What is your secret to making technological music sound so organic?
Marcus: I don't think there's a secret. Just the use of a certain number of technical possibilities to find warm sounds. We prefer the sound of the sixties and seventies because it was analog, and that's what is missing in many current productions. Since we released Twoism in 1994, the electronic scene has become huge. It's inevitable because with the development of technology, it has become easy to compose with minimal equipment, a computer, and software. The electronic artists I respect remember that music is more than just complex beats programmed with software. Cornelius, for example, uses a lot of technology but makes it very warm and human. Today, it's very easy to make something clean, very well produced, perfectly "in tone". But it's easy to forget that it's the imperfections of old recordings that give them their character. By working hard, it is possible to recreate these flaws. In any case, we don't often listen to electronic music.
You attach great importance to visuals...
Mike: Regarding the cover, we try to create a graphic style that complements the sound. We are always working on the visual aspect: for example, we create Super 8 short films to accompany our concerts. We don't consider this as secondary because when we compose, we often imagine a soundtrack for a film or visual work. Then when we perform a concert or when we have to decide on the graphics for a cover, we like these ideas to be underlying.
How do you relax?
Mike: We go out with friends, have parties, and campfires. We try to be outside often, spending time at the beach with our friends. I drive my car a lot, sometimes taking my girlfriend to France. And we spend days listening to the records people send us. Marcus spends all his free time snowboarding in France. We also do survival courses.

Geogaddi (Warp/Pias)

www.boardsofcanada.com


B to the O to the C

title B to the O to the C
author Nobuki Nishiyama?
publication Fader
date 2002/04
issue Vol.07
pages A002-A003
B to the O to the C is an interview (in Japanese) by Nobuki Nishiyama? originally published Apr. 2002 in Fader magazine Volume 07, pp. A002-A003.

This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.

Note: Transcription by Apple's Live Text on a MacBook Pro



BOARDS OF CANADA
B to the O to the C


2002 04 Fader Vol07 pgA002.jpg


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「ç‰čă«ă‚šăƒŹă‚Żăƒˆăƒ­ăƒ‹ăƒƒă‚Żăƒ»ăƒŸăƒ„ăƒŒă‚žăƒƒă‚Żă«é–ąă—ăŠăŻă€ăă‚ŒăŻèˆˆ
ć‘łæ·±ă„èłȘć•ă ăšæ€ă†ă‚ˆă€‚éŸłæ„œă«ăŠă‘ă‚‹æ•°ć­Šçš„ăȘè«–ç†ăźă“
ăšă‚’ă€ă‚łăƒłăƒăƒŒă‚¶ăƒŒă‚„ăƒȘă‚čăƒŠăƒŒă«ă‚ˆăŁăŠç”Ÿăżć‡șされた、もし
くはèȘČă›ă‚‰ă‚ŒăŸă‚‚ăźă§ă‚ă‚‹ăšèš€ă˜ăŠă„ă‚‹äșșっどいるよね。だ
ă‘ă©é‡èŠăȘぼは、è‡Șç„¶ăźäž­ă«ăŻăŸăă•ă‚“ăźăƒȘă‚șăƒŸăƒƒă‚Żă§ăƒăƒŒ
ヱニックăȘăƒ‘ă‚żăƒŒăƒłăŒć­˜ćœšă—ăŠă„ăŠă€éŸłæ„œăšăŻăă‚Œă‚‰è‡Ș然
ăźäž­ăźăƒ‘ă‚żăƒŒăƒłăźé›†ăŸă‚Šă«éŽăŽăȘă„ă€ăšă„ă†ă“ăšă«æ°—ä»˜ă
こべăȘんじゃăȘいかăȘă€‚æ•°ć­ŠăšăŻè‡Șç„¶ăźäž­ă«ă€ă™ă§ă«ć­˜ćœš
しどいるもぼăȘんだ。äșșăŒæ•°ć­Šă‚’ç™șæ˜Žă—ăŸă‚“ă˜ă‚ƒăȘい、äșș
がè‡Șç„¶ăźäž­ă«æ•°ć­Šă‚’â€œç™șèŠ‹â€ă—ăŸă‚“ă ă‚ˆă€ïŒˆăƒžă‚€ă‚±ăƒ«ïŒ‰
ă“ă†ă—ăŸăƒ†ă‚ŻăƒŽăƒ­ă‚žăƒŒă«ćŻŸă™ă‚‹ć§żć‹ąăŻă€æ•°ć€šăźă‚šăƒŹă‚Żăƒˆăƒ­
ăƒ‹ă‚«ăƒ»ă‚ąăƒŒăƒ†ă‚Łă‚čăƒˆăšćœŒă‚‰ăšăźć·źé•ă‚’æ±șćźšă„ă‘ă‚‹ă‚‚ăźă ăšèš€
ăˆă‚‹ă ă‚ă†ă€‚ăƒ©ăƒƒăƒ—ăƒˆăƒƒăƒ—ă‚’é§†äœżă—ăŸä»–ăźă‚šăƒŹă‚Żăƒˆăƒ­ăƒ‹ă‚«ăŒ
際限ăȘăè€‡é›‘æ€§ă‚’ćą—ă—ăŠă„ăăźă«ćŻŸă—ă€ćœŒă‚‰ăŻă‚ăăŸă§ă‚‚ă‚·
ăƒłăƒ—ăƒ«ă‹ă€çš„çąșăȘă„ăă€ă‹ăźăƒ«ăƒŒăƒ—ă‚’ćŸșèȘżă«ă—ăŸă€ă‚ȘăƒŒă‚œ
ドックă‚čăȘæ„œæ›Čæ§‹æˆă‚’èČ«ă„ăŠă„ă‚‹ă€‚ăăźć§żăŻćčŸćˆ†äżćźˆçš„
ă«æ˜ ă‚‹ă“ăšă‚‚ă‚ă‚‹ă‹ă‚‚ă—ă‚ŒăȘă„ăŒă€ă—ă‹ă—ă€ă‚·ăƒłăƒ—ăƒ«ă§ă‚ă‚‹
ă‹ă‚‰ă“ăćœŒă‚‰ăźæ™źéæ€§ăŻă€ă‚ˆă‚Šäž€ć±€éš›ç«‹ăŁăŸă‚‚ăźăšă—ăŠăź
èȘŹćŸ—ćŠ›ă‚’ćą—ă—ăŠă„ă‚‹ă‚‚ăźă ă€‚ć„‡ă‚’ăŠă‚‰ă†ă‚ˆă†ăȘèŠçŽ ăŻäž€ćˆ‡
ăȘい、ă‚čăƒˆăƒŹăƒŒăƒˆăȘ目球拝èȠ。ケブă‚čăƒˆăƒ©ă‚Żăƒˆă§ă€æ›–ć‘łăȘăŸ
ăŸăźă€ă‚ă‚‹æ„ć‘łă§ăŻć‹èČ ă‚’éżă‘ăŠă„ă‚‹ă‚ˆă†ă«ă‚‚æ€ăˆă‚‹ă‚”ă‚Š
ăƒłăƒ‰ă«é€ƒă’èŸŒă‚€ă‚ˆă†ăȘこべは、æ±șしどăȘă„ă€‚ăƒ™ăƒŒă‚·ăƒƒă‚Żă§ă€
ă‚ȘăƒŒă‚œăƒ‰ăƒƒă‚Żă‚čă§ă‚ă‚‹ă“ăšă«ćŻŸă—ăŠă€äșŒäșșăŻæ„”ă‚ăŠæ„è­˜çš„
である。「ゾă‚Șă‚Źăƒ‡ă‚Łă€ăźă€ć„‡è·Ąçš„ăȘăŸă§ăźă‚”ă‚€ă‚±ăƒ‡ăƒȘケは、
ăă—ăŠă ă‹ă‚‰ă“ăć­€é«˜ăźèŒăă‚’æ”ŸăŁăŠă„ă‚‹ă€‚
ă€Œćƒ•ă‚‰ăŻæ™‚ă€…ă€ă‚ăˆăŠă‚‚ăźă™ă”ăăƒ™ăƒŒă‚·ăƒƒă‚ŻăȘăƒ‘ăƒŒăƒˆă‚’ć–ă‚Š
ć…„ă‚Œă‚‹ă“ăšăŒă‚ă‚‹ă€‚ć˜ă«ăă‚ŒăŒć„œăă ă‹ă‚‰ă€ăŁăŠă„ă†ăźă‚‚ă‚
ă‚‹ă‚“ă ă‘ă©ă€ă§ă‚‚ă€ăăźăƒ™ăƒŒă‚·ăƒƒă‚ŻăȘăƒ‘ăƒŒăƒˆă«ăŸăŁăŸăćŻŸç…§
的ăȘèŠçŽ ă‚’ćŠ ăˆăŸçžŹé–“ă€ăă“ă«ăŻç”Ÿć‘œăŒćźżă‚‹ă‚“ă ă€‚ăă‚ŒăŻ
たべえようもăȘă„ă»ă©çŸŽă—ă„çžŹé–“ă ă€‚ăă‚Œă«ă‚ˆăŁăŠăƒˆăƒ©ăƒƒă‚Ż
ăźç›źçš„ăăźă‚‚ăźă‚’ăŸăŁăŸăćˆ„ăźă‚‚ăźă«ă™ă‚‹ă“ăšă‚‚ă§ăă‚Œă°ă€
盼的ぼăȘă„ăƒˆăƒ©ăƒƒă‚Żă«ă€ç›źçš„ă‚’äžŽăˆă‚‹ă“ăšă ăŁăŠă§ăă‚‹ă€ïŒˆăƒž


ă‚€ă‚±ăƒ«ïŒ‰ă€‚ă€Œćƒ•ă‚‰ăŻäŸ‹ăˆă°ă‚ąă‚łăƒŒă‚čăƒ†ă‚Łăƒƒă‚Żăƒ»ă‚źă‚żăƒŒă§ă‚ă‚‹
ăšă‹ă€ăŸăŁăŸäž€ă€ăźæ„œć™šă ă‘ă§ă‚‚æ„œæ›ČăŒæˆă‚Šç«‹ă€ă‚ˆă†ăȘ
ă‚ąăƒ—ăƒ­ăƒŒăƒăŒć„œăăȘă‚“ă ă€‚ă‚‚ă—ăăŻæ­Œă†ă ă‘ă§ă‚‚ă„ă„ă‘ă©ă€
ăă†ă„ă†ă‚·ăƒłăƒ—ăƒ«ă«æŒ”ć„ă§ăă‚‹ă‚ˆă†ăȘă‚‚ăźă‚’äœœă‚‹ă“ăšăŒă§
きたぼăȘă‚‰ă°ă€ăă“ă«ăŻćŸșæœŹçš„ăȘéŸłæ„œèŠçŽ ăŒććˆ†ă«ă‚ă‚‹ăŁ
ăŠă„ă†ă“ăšă ă‹ă‚‰ă­ă€‚ćƒ•ă‚‰ăŒäœœă‚ŠăŸă„ăźăŻéŸłæ„œă ă€‚ćƒ•ă‚‰ă«
ăšăŁăŠéŸłæ„œăšăŻă€ć˜ăȘă‚‹ăƒ—ăƒ­ăƒ€ă‚Żă‚·ăƒ§ăƒłă‚„ă‚”ă‚Šăƒłăƒ‰ăƒ»ă‚šăƒ•ă‚§
ă‚Żăƒˆä»„äžŠăźă‚‚ăźă§ăȘくどはăȘらăȘă„ă€‚ăƒĄăƒ­ăƒ‡ă‚ŁăƒŒăŒăȘくどは
いけăȘいし、äșșă€…ăźæ„Ÿæƒ…ă‚’æșă•ă¶ă‚‹ă‚ˆă†ăȘćŠ›ă‚’æŒăŸăȘくど
はăȘらăȘă„ă‚“ă ă‚ˆă€ïŒˆăƒžăƒŒă‚«ă‚čïŒ‰ă€‚
ć€šăăźäșșă€…ăŒèŠ‹éŽă”ă—ăŒăĄă§ăŻă‚ă‚‹ăŒă€ăƒžă‚€ă‚±ăƒ«ăšăƒžăƒŒ
ă‚«ă‚čăźăƒĄăƒ­ăƒ‡ă‚ŁăƒŒă«ćŻŸă™ă‚‹ćˆ€æ–­ćŸșæș–ăŻă€æ•°ć€šăăźă‚»ăƒƒă‚·ăƒ§
ンをこăȘă—ăŠăăŸăƒ—ăƒŹă‚€ăƒ€ăƒŒăšă—ăŠăźç”Œéš“ă«èŁæ‰“ăĄă•ă‚ŒăŸă‚‚
ăźă ă€‚ăƒ†ăƒŒăƒ—ăƒ»ăƒžă‚·ăƒłă«çŸ­æłąăƒ©ă‚žă‚Șăźć€šé‡éŒČéŸłă§ă‚łăƒ©ăƒŒ
ă‚žăƒ„äœœć“ă‚’ćˆ¶äœœă—ăŠă„ăŸăăźćˆæœŸăźæŽ»ć‹•ă‹ă‚‰ă€äžŠèĄŒă—ăŠ
äșŒäșșăŻæ„œć™šă‚’ç†Ÿé”ă™ă‚‹ă“ăšă«ă‚‚ćŠȘă‚ă§ăăŸïŒˆäșŒäșșăŻć…±ă«ç†Ÿ
ç·Žă—ăŸăƒ”ă‚ąăƒ‹ă‚čăƒˆă§ă‚ă‚Šă€ăƒžăƒŒă‚«ă‚čăŻă‚źă‚żăƒŒăšăƒ™ăƒŒă‚č、そ
ă—ăŠăƒžă‚€ă‚±ăƒ«ăŻă‚źă‚żăƒŒă€ăƒ™ăƒŒă‚čă€ăƒ‰ăƒ©ăƒ ăźæŒ”ć„ă‚‚ă“ăȘă™ïŒ‰ă€‚
ăƒœăƒŒă‚ș・ă‚Șăƒ–ăƒ»ă‚«ăƒŠăƒ€ăźă‚·ăƒłăƒ—ăƒ«ăȘăƒĄăƒ­ăƒ‡ă‚ŁăƒŒă«ăŻă€ćžžă«ć€š
くぼèȘ€è§ŁăŒă€ăăŸăšă†ă€‚ă„ă‚„ă€ćœŒă‚‰ăŻă‚‚ă—ă‹ă™ă‚‹ăšă€ă‚ăˆăŠ
èȘ€è§Łă•ă‚Œă‚‹ă“ăšă‚’æ„œă—ă‚“ă§ă„ă‚‹ăźă‹ă‚‚ă—ă‚ŒăȘいが。
ă€Œä»Šă§ă‚‚æ„œć™šăŻćŒŸă„ăŠă‚‹ă‚ˆă€‚ă‚čタゾă‚ȘăŻæ„œć™šă ă‚‰ă‘ă ă—ă­ă€‚
ćźŸăŻćƒ•ă‚‰ăŻă€ç”æ§‹ăȘăƒŽă‚Łăƒłăƒ†ăƒŒă‚žæ„œć™šăźă‚łăƒŹă‚Żă‚żăƒŒă§ă‚‚
ă‚ăŁăŠăƒ»ăƒ»ăƒ»ăƒ»ăƒ»ăƒ»ă€‚ăżă‚“ăȘăŒæ€ăŁăŠă„ă‚‹ä»„äžŠă«ă€ćƒ•ă‚‰ăźéŸłæ„œă«ăŻ
ç”Ÿæ„œć™šăźéŸłăŒăŸăă•ă‚“ć…„ăŁăŠă‚‹ă‚“ă ă€‚ăƒœăƒŒă‚ș・ă‚Șăƒ–ăƒ»ă‚«ăƒŠăƒ€
ăšă„ăˆă°ă€ă„ă‹ă«ă‚‚ăƒ“ăƒ„ă‚ąăƒ»ă‚šăƒŹă‚Żăƒˆăƒ­ăƒ‹ă‚Żă‚čă€ăšă„ă†ă‚€ăƒĄăƒŒ
ă‚žăŒćŒ·ă„ăšæ€ă†ă‚“ă ă‘ă©ă€ćźŸéš›ăŻăă†ă˜ă‚ƒăȘい。わざべそう
èŽă“ăˆă‚‹ă‚ˆă†ă«äœœăŁăŠă‚‹ă‚“ă ă€‚ćƒ•ă‚‰ăźăƒ—ăƒ­ă‚žă‚§ă‚Żăƒˆă€ăƒœăƒŒă‚ș・
ă‚Șăƒ–ăƒ»ă‚«ăƒŠăƒ€ă«ăŻă€ăŸăŁăŸäž€ă€ă ă‘ă‚łăƒłă‚»ăƒ—ăƒˆăŒă‚ă‚‹ă€‚ă
ă‚ŒăŻă€â€œăă†ă„ă†éąšă«ă“ăˆăŠă‚‚ă€ćźŸăŻć…šç„¶é”ă†â€ăšă„ă†ă“
ăšă€‚ăƒ”ăƒ„ă‚ąăƒ»ă‚šăƒŹă‚Żăƒˆăƒ­ăƒ‹ăƒƒă‚Żăƒ»ăƒŸăƒ„ăƒŒă‚žăƒƒă‚Żăźă‚ˆă†ă«èŽă“ăˆ
ども、漟はそうじゃăȘă„ă€‚æŒ”ć„ćź¶ăźéŸłæ„œă˜ă‚ƒăȘă„ă‚ˆă†ă«èŽ
こえども、漟はそうじゃăȘい。ă‚ȘăƒŒăƒ«ăƒ‰ăƒ»ă‚żă‚€ăƒŸăƒŒăȘæ˜ ç”»ă‚„
テレビç•Șç”„ă‹ă‚‰ă‚”ăƒłăƒ—ăƒȘăƒłă‚°ă—ăŠă‚‹ă‚ˆă†ă«èŽă“ăˆăŠă‚‚ă€ćźŸ
はそうじゃăȘă„ă€‚ă‚ăˆăŠç›ŽæŽ„çš„ăȘă‚€ăƒĄăƒŒă‚žă‚’æŒăŸă›ă‚‹ă‚ˆă†
ă«ăŻă—ăŠă‚‹ă‚“ă ă‘ă©ă€èŁă§ăŻć…šç„¶é•ă†ă“ăšă‚’ă‚„ăŁăŠă„ă‚‹ă€‚
ちょっべăČねくれどるかăȘïŒŸćƒ•ă‚‰ă«ăšăŁăŠă€ă‚šăƒŹă‚Żăƒˆăƒ­ăƒ‹ăƒƒ
ă‚Żăƒ»ăƒŸăƒ„ăƒŒă‚žăƒƒă‚ŻăŻéŸłæ„œă‚’äœœă‚‹ăƒ—ăƒ­ă‚»ă‚čăźæ‹ĄćŒ”ă«éŽăŽăȘい
ă‚“ă ă€ïŒˆăƒžăƒŒă‚«ă‚č
『ゾă‚Șă‚Źăƒ‡ă‚Łă€ăŻă€ă‚šăƒŹă‚Żăƒˆăƒ­ăƒ‹ă‚«ăźé››ćœąă‚’ćźŒæˆă•ă›ă€ć€š
ăăźăƒ•ă‚©ăƒ­ăƒŻăƒŒă‚’ç”Ÿăżć‡șă—ăŸćœŒă‚‰ă‹ă‚‰ć±Šă‘ă‚‰ă‚ŒăŸă€ăăźă‚čタ
ă‚€ăƒ«ăźé›†ć€§æˆă«ă—ăŠćźŒæˆćœąăšă‚‚ă„ă†ăčăćŒ·ć›șăȘă‚”ă‚Šăƒłăƒ‰ă‚’
çąșç«‹ă—ăŸć‚‘äœœă ă€‚ă—ă‹ă—ă€ç„¶æœŹäœœăŻăăźç”‚ç€ç‚čではăȘい。
ăăźć…ˆă«ăŻă€ă•ă‚‰ăȘă‚‹ć±•é–‹ăŒćŸ…ăĄæ§‹ăˆăŠă„ă‚‹ă€‚ăă‚ŒăŻäž€äœ“ă©
ぼようăȘă‚‚ăźă§ă‚ă‚‹ăźă‹ïŒŸæ„œă—ăżă«ćŸ…ăŁăŠă„ăŸă„ăšæ€ă†ă€‚
ă€ŒćźŸăŻă‚‚ă†ă€ăƒœăƒŒă‚ș・ă‚Șăƒ–ăƒ»ă‚«ăƒŠăƒ€ăšă—ăŠćƒ•ă‚‰ăŒă‚„ăŁăŠăăŸă“
ăšăšăŻæ­ŁććŻŸă€ă„ă‚„ă€90ćșŠăă‚‰ă„ăŻé•ă†éŸłæ„œă‚‚äœœăŁăŸă‚“ă ă€‚
ă§ă‚‚ă€ăŸă ăă‚ŒăŻăƒȘăƒȘăƒŒă‚čされどはいăȘă„ă€‚ăŸă¶ă‚“ă€ć°†æ„çš„
ă«ćƒ•ă‚‰ăŒăă‚Œăžă‚Œă€ăƒœăƒŒă‚ș・ă‚Șăƒ–ăƒ»ă‚«ăƒŠăƒ€ăšăŻćˆ„ăźç‹Źç«‹ă—
ăŸäœœć“ă‚’ăƒȘăƒȘăƒŒă‚čするこずにăȘă‚‹ăźăŻćż…ç„¶ă ă‚ă†ă­ă€‚ä»ŠćŸŒ
ăźæŽ»ć‹•ă«ă€ă„ăŠă‚ȘăƒŒăƒ—ăƒłă§ă‚ă‚‹ă“ăšăŻă€ăƒŸăƒ„ăƒŒă‚žă‚·ăƒŁăƒłăšă—
ă§ăŻă‚šă‚­ă‚”ă‚€ăƒ†ă‚Łăƒłă‚°ăȘă“ăšă ă‚ˆă€ïŒˆăƒžăƒŒă‚«ă‚čN


Note: Translated by ChatGPT-4o



BOARDS OF CANADA
B to the O to the C

2002 04 Fader Vol07 pgA002.jpg


Three and a half years is a long time. Many events have occurred and passed, and experiments no longer remain experiments, while the avant-garde quickly turns conservative. Since their previous work Music Has the Right to Children in 1998, Marcus Eoin and Michael Sandison have chosen to deliberately let their work drift in the rough seas of time. It was as if they intended to prove that their music transcends temporal novelty and possesses a timeless universality by doing so. And that proof has been magnificently realized Geogaddi. This new album is the essence of the Boards of Canada sound that has remained unchanged since their debut. Here lies a beautiful work that pursues maturity over change and universality over isolated uniqueness.

"I'm not consciously trying to relate our music to a specific era. I just want people to listen to it as it is. But I can't release something we're not satisfied with. For that reason, we'll take as much time as needed to create our music and compile an album," says Marcus. Geogaddi is finally completed. Regardless of the changing times over these three and a half years, it simply came to completion."

However, Geogaddi is by no means a mere rehash of past works. While fully inheriting the characteristic melodies that are fantastical and filled with a sense of floating, and at times even otherworldly, it is imbued with a more restrained sensibility, creating a kind of strength that goes beyond mere nostalgia. Additionally, the old-school hip-hop-like beat sense that was their trademark has somewhat faded, as they have moved away from the hip-hop/electro flow. The beats and melodies have reached a more organic and complex combination. The extremely pitch-wavering synthesizer work on tracks like "1969" and "Dawn Chorus" is a simple idea but highly effective, blending beats and upper elements perfectly.


2002 04 Fader Vol07 pgA003.jpg

A fresh feeling, as if quietly dismantling such concepts, also pervades.

"I think those elements are still present in Geogaddi. But, we've stopped pushing those elements to the forefront as much as we used to. For this album, we wanted to bury those elements deeper within the music. I always aim for our music parts or influences to reach a point where they cannot be separated. By doing so, it creates an organic feel where all elements seem naturally present." (Michael)
Geogaddi is based on the idea of creating a sound that cannot be broken down into its constituent parts, particularly noticeable in tracks like "Julie And Candy" and "Dawn Chorus". (Michael)
"We are always inspired by nature." (Marcus)

Since their debut, Boards of Canada have consistently used nature and the earth as motifs. Geogaddi is no exception, with many track titles referencing nature and the earth, such as "Sunshine Recorder", "Over The Horizon Radar", and "Gyroscope".

"Everyone now is rushing towards technological, urban, and anti-naturalistic themes, so reflecting the influence of nature in our music might be a reaction against that." (Marcus)

On the other hand, a track titled "Music Is Math", suggesting a theoretical approach to music, is also present. However, viewing these as opposites might be misleading. Considering music as a gift from nature and understanding its elements mathematically are both fundamental approaches to music that shouldn't be separated.

Michael's earlier words about creating a sound that can't be broken down into elements are deeply rooted in their music's background.

"I think it's an interesting question, especially concerning electronic music. Some view mathematical logic in music as something imposed by composers or listeners. But the key is to realize that nature contains many rhythmic and harmonic patterns, and music is merely a collection of those patterns. Mathematics already exists in nature; it wasn't invented by humans but discovered within nature." (Michael)

This stance towards technology sets them apart from many other electronica artists. While others increase complexity with laptops, Boards of Canada stick to a simple yet precise loop-based traditional song structure. This approach might appear conservative, but its simplicity enhances its universality and persuasive power. They avoid abstract or vague sounds, opting for a straightforward approach. Michael and Marcus are very deliberate about being basic and orthodox, making Geogaddi stand out with its miraculous psychedelia.

"We sometimes deliberately include very basic parts because we like them. But adding a completely contrasting element to that basic part brings it to life, creating a beautiful moment. It can transform the track's purpose or give a purposeless track a purpose." (Michael)
"We like approaches where even a single instrument or just singing can constitute a song. If we achieve that simplicity, it means there are sufficient basic musical elements. We aim to create music, not just production or sound effects. Music must have melody and the power to move people's emotions." (Marcus)

Their criteria for melody, often overlooked, are backed by extensive experience as players. From their early days of creating collage works with multi-track recordings of shortwave radios, they have honed their instrumental skills (both are skilled pianists, with Marcus playing guitar and bass, and Michael playing guitar, bass, and drums).

There are many misunderstandings about Boards of Canada's simple melodies. Perhaps they even enjoy being misunderstood.

"We still play instruments. Our studio is filled with instruments. We are also avid collectors of vintage instruments. Our music contains more live instrument sounds than people think. Boards of Canada are perceived as purely electronic, but that's not true. We deliberately create that perception. Our project has a single concept: "It sounds like that, but it's actually different". It might sound like pure electronic music, but it's not. It might not sound like a musician's music, but it is. It might sound like samples from old movies or TV shows, but it's not. We're doing something completely different behind the scenes. Is it a bit twisted? For us, electronic music is just an extension of the process of making music." (Marcus)

Geogaddi is a masterpiece, solidifying their sound and serving as the culmination of their style, which has inspired many followers. However, this album is not the endpoint. There's more development ahead.

"We've actually made music that's quite the opposite of what we've done with Boards of Canada, or at least about 90 degrees different. But it hasn't been released yet. In the future, it's inevitable that we will release independent works separate from Boards of Canada. Being open about future activities is exciting as musicians." (Marcus)
(N)



Magical, Mystery, Cycling

title Magical, Mystery, Cycling
author Tsutomu Noda, Naohiro Kato
publication Remix (Japanese Publication)
date 2002/04
issue 130
pages 42-47



"Magical, Mystery, Cycling" is an interview (in Japanese) by Tsutomu Noda, Naohiro Kato originally published Apr. 2002 in Remix magazine (Japanese Publication) Number 130, pp.42-47.

This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.

Note: Transcription by Apple's Live Text on a MacBook Pro


2002 04 Remix No130 pg42.jpg

Boards of Canada:
ăƒžă‚žă‚«ăƒ«ăƒ»ăƒŸă‚čテăƒȘăƒŒăƒ»ă‚”ă‚€ă‚ŻăƒȘング
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ă€ă„ă«ă€ăšèš€ăˆă°ă„ă„ăźă‹ă€ă‚ˆă†ă‚„ăă€ăšèš€ăˆă°ă„ă„ăźă‹ă€ă‚ă‚‹ă„ăŻćż˜ă‚ŒăŸé ƒă«ă€ăšèš€ăˆ
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る。ć‡șă‚‹ă‚“ă§ă™ă‚ˆă€ćŠ è±šă•ă‚“ïŒăšă“ă‚ă§ăƒăƒŒă‚ș・ă‚Șăƒ–ăƒ»ă‚«ăƒŠăƒ€ăšăŻäœ•ïŒŸă‚Șă‚Šăƒ†ă‚«ä»„é™ăź
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ă“ăšèš€ă‚ăȘいで。これこそé€Čæ­©ăšé œć»ƒăŒć…±ć­˜ă™ă‚‹â€çŸćœšâ€ăźă‚”ă‚€ă‚±ăƒ‡ăƒȘックăȘんだから。

2002 04 Remix No130 pg43.jpg


words Tsutomu Noda . Nachiro Kato

translation Kyoko Fukuda . Kana Muramatsu


2002 04 Remix No130 pg44.jpg

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ă‚€ăƒłă‚čăƒ”ăƒŹăƒŒă‚·ăƒ§ăƒłă‚’ć—ă‘ăŸă‚‚ăźăŻă€ć€ă„SFæ˜ ç”»ă§äœżă‚ă‚ŒăŠă„
るようăȘă€ă‚·ăƒłă‚»ăČăšă€ăźă‚”ă‚Šăƒłăƒ‰ăƒ»ă‚šăƒ•ă‚§ă‚Żăƒˆă€‚ă‚€ă‚źăƒȘă‚čぼ「ドク

æ˜ ç”»ăŻéŸłæ„œă‚„ă‚€ăƒĄăƒŒă‚žă«ć€§ăăȘćœ±éŸżă‚’äžŽăˆăŸă€‚è’æ¶ŒăŸă‚‹ăƒŽă‚Łă‚žăƒ§ăƒłăźæœȘæ„ă«ă€ă­
ă«èˆˆć‘łă‚’æŒăŁăŠă„ăŠă€ăšăă«1970ćčŽä»ŁăźèŠ–ç‚čでたæœȘæ„ă«ăŻćœ±éŸżă•ă‚ŒăŸă­ă€‚

ă‚żăƒŒăƒ»ăƒ•ăƒŒă€ăšă‹ă€ŽăƒăƒŁăƒƒă‚­ăƒŒă€ăšă‹ăźæ˜ ç”»ă«äœżă‚ă‚ŒăŠă„ă‚‹ă‚ˆă†
ăȘね。äș‹ćźŸă€ćƒ•ă‚‰ăŻăƒăƒƒăƒ—ăƒ»ăƒŸăƒ„ăƒŒă‚žăƒƒă‚ŻăȘんかよりも、テレビや
æ˜ ç”»ă‹ă‚‰ć€§ăăȘă‚€ăƒłă‚čăƒ”ăƒŹăƒŒă‚·ăƒ§ăƒłă‚’ć—ă‘ăŠăăŸă€‚ă‚ăšăŻă€ă‚ąăƒĄ
ăƒȘă‚«ăźăƒ†ăƒŹăƒ“ăƒ»ă‚·ăƒȘăƒŒă‚șăźă‚žăƒłă‚°ăƒ«ă€æ—„æœŹăźă‚ąăƒ‹ăƒĄăźă€Žă‚ŹăƒƒăƒăƒŁăƒž
ン』ăȘă‚“ă‹ă§æœ€ćŸŒă«æ”ă‚Œă‚‹ă‚„ă€ăšă‹ïŒˆçŹ‘ïŒ‰ă€‚
ćœ±éŸżă‚’ć—ă‘ăŸæ˜ ćƒă€ă‚ă‚‹ă„ăŻæ˜ ç”»ă‚’ć…·äœ“çš„ă«æ•™ăˆăŠăă ă•ă„ă€‚
ăƒžăƒŒă‚«ă‚čïŒšă‚€ăƒžă‚žăƒăƒŒă‚·ăƒ§ăƒłăźć…„ă‚ŠèŸŒă‚ă‚‹äœ™ćœ°ăŒă‚ă‚‹æ˜ ç”»ăŒć„œ
きăȘă‚“ă ă€‚ćŒæ™‚ă«ă€çŸŽă—ă„ă‚·ăƒ§ăƒƒăƒˆăšçŸćźŸäž–ç•Œă«æČżăŁăŸăƒ«ăƒŒă‚șăȘ
ケドăƒȘăƒ–ăźćŻŸè©±ăŒă‚€ăƒłă‚čăƒ”ăƒŹăƒŒă‚·ăƒ§ăƒłă‚’äžŽăˆă‚‹ă‚ˆă†ăȘäœœć“ăŒć„œăż
かăȘ。惕ぼヮィデă‚Șăƒ»ă‚łăƒŹă‚Żă‚·ăƒ§ăƒłă§ăŻăŸă¶ă‚“ă€SFæ˜ ç”»ăźă»ăšă‚“
どをç¶ČçŸ…ă—ăŠă„ă‚‹ă€‚ă§ă‚‚ă€æœŹćœ“ă«ć„œăăȘăźăŻăƒ‹ă‚łăƒ©ă‚čăƒ»ăƒ­ăƒŒă‚°ăź
ă€ŽçŸŽă—ăć†’é™șæ—…èĄŒă€ă€ăƒŸă‚±ăƒ©ăƒłă‚žă‚§ăƒ­ăƒ»ă‚ąăƒłăƒˆăƒ‹ă‚ȘăƒŒăƒ‹ăźă€Œç ‚äž˜ă€
ă‚ă‚‹ă„ăŻă€Œăƒ‘ăƒ”ăƒšăƒłă€ă‚„ă€Žă‚ąăƒ©ăƒ“ă‚ąăźăƒ­ăƒŹăƒłă‚čă€ă ă€‚ă“ă‚Œă‚‰ă«ăŻć…±
é€šăźăƒ†ăƒŒăƒžăŒă‚ă‚‹ăšæ€ă†ă€‚ă‚ăšă€ă‚”ăƒŒăƒ•ă‚Łăƒłăźæ˜ ç”»ă‚‚ć„œăă ă€‚ă§
ă‚‚ă€çŸä»Łăźă‚„ă€ă˜ă‚ƒăȘくど、70ćčŽä»Łă«
éŒČられたもぼで16ミăƒȘăźă§ă‚”ă‚€ă‚±ăƒ‡
ăƒȘックăȘă‚”ă‚Šăƒłăƒ‰ăƒˆăƒ©ăƒƒă‚ŻăŒă€ă„ăŠă‚‹ă‚„
ă€ă€Žăƒ“ăƒƒă‚°ăƒ»ă‚Šă‚§ăƒłă‚șăƒ‡ăƒŒă€ăšă‹ă€‚ă‚čăƒ­ăƒŒ
ăƒąăƒŒă‚·ăƒ§ăƒłăźă‚Šă‚§ă‚€ăƒŽăƒ»ăƒăƒ„ăƒŒăƒ–ăźă‚«ăƒ©
äž€æ˜ ćƒă«ăŻéžćžžă«çŸŽă—ă„ăšæ„Ÿă˜ă•ă›ă‚‹
äœ•ă‹ăŒă‚ă‚‹ă‚“ă ă‚ˆă­ă€‚ă„ăŁăœă†ă§ă€ă‚ąă‚·
ッドăȘă‚”ă‚€ă‚±ăƒ‡ăƒȘăƒƒă‚ŻéŸłæ„œăŒèŠłăŠă„ă‚‹
è€…ăźæ„è­˜ă‚’æș€ăŸă™ă‚“だ。
ăƒžă‚€ă‚ŻïŒšă€Žăƒ”ă‚Żăƒ‹ăƒƒă‚Żăƒ»ă‚ąăƒƒăƒˆăƒ»ăƒăƒłă‚źăƒł
ă‚°ăƒ»ăƒ­ăƒƒă‚Żă€ă€Žă„ă‚Œăšăżăźç”·ă€ïŒˆăƒ–ăƒ©ăƒƒăƒ‰
ベăƒȘćŽŸäœœïŒ‰ă€ă€Žă‚Šă‚Łăƒƒă‚«ăƒŒăƒžăƒłă€ïŒˆă‚€ă‚źăƒȘă‚č
ăźè¶…ă‚«ăƒ«ăƒˆæ˜ ç”»ïŒ‰ă€‚ă“ă‚Œă‚‰ă™ăčăŠăźæ˜ 
ç”»ăŻèŠłă‚‹è€…ăźćżƒă‚’ćƒă‹ă›ă‚‹ă‚čăƒšăƒŒă‚čă‚’æź‹ă—ăŠă„ă‚‹äœœć“ă ă‹ă‚‰
ă­ă€‚ăă‚Œă«ă‚ˆăŁăŠćżƒă‚’ă‹ăăżă ă•ă‚Œă‚‹ă‘ă©ă€ćŠč果的ăȘæ˜ ç”»ă ă€‚
BOCăźéŸłæ„œăŻă‚čă‚łăƒƒăƒˆăƒ©ăƒłăƒ‰ăźç”°ćœ’éąšæ™Żă‚„éœ§ăŒă‹ă‹ăŁăŸć€œæ˜Žă‘ăźéąšæ™ŻăȘă©ă‚’ă‚€ăƒĄăƒŒă‚žă•ă›ăŸă™ăŒă€ă‚ăȘăŸăŸăĄăźćˆ¶äœœă«ăŠă„ăŠćœ°ćŸŸæ€§ăšă„ă†ă‚šăƒŹăƒĄăƒłăƒˆăŻé‡èŠăȘæ„ć‘łăŒă‚ă‚ŠăŸă™ă‹ïŒŸæ—„æœŹă§ăŻç”ŸăŸă‚ŒćŸ—ăȘă„éąšæ™Żæć†™ă ăšæ€ă†ă‚“ă§ă™ăŒă€‚ ăƒžă‚€ă‚ŻïŒšéąç™œă„ă“ăšă‚’èš€ă†ăȘă‚ă€‚ăšă„ă†ăźă‚‚ă€ćƒ•ăŻă€ă­ă«æ—„æœŹ
ăźæ™Żè‰Čっどいうぼはă‚čă‚łăƒƒăƒˆăƒ©ăƒłăƒ‰ă«äŒŒăŠă„ă‚‹ă‚“ă˜ă‚ƒăȘいかべ
æƒłćƒă—ăŠăŸă‹ă‚‰ăȘă‚“ă ă€‚ć±±ă‚„æœšă€…ăŒă‚ăŁăŠă€ăŸăă•ă‚“é›šăŒé™ă‚‹
ă ă‚ă€‚ă§ă‚‚ă€ăŠăă‚‰ăć›ăŻæ—„æœŹăźéƒœäŒšăźă“ăšă‚’èš€ăŁăŠă„ă‚‹ă‚“ă 
ろうăȘă€‚ćƒ•ăŻă©ă“ăžèĄŒăŁăŠă‚‚è‡Șç„¶ăźæ™Żè‰Čă‹ă‚‰ă‚€ăƒłă‚čăƒ”ăƒŹăƒŒă‚·ăƒ§
ンを揗ける。
ćƒ•ă«ăšăŁăŠéŸłæ„œăžăźă‚€ăƒłă‚čăƒ”ăƒŹăƒŒă‚·ăƒ§ăƒłă‚’æ¶ˆè€—ă•ă›ă‚‹ă‚‚ăźăŒ
ăČăšă€ă‚ă‚‹ăšă—ăŸă‚‰ă€ăă‚ŒăŻéƒœäŒšăźćœ±éŸżă ă€‚éƒœäŒšăźç’°ćąƒă§ăŻă‚
ăŸă‚Šé•·ăæšźă‚‰ă›ăȘă„ă€‚ă™ăă«ă‚‚ăŁăšé™ă‹ăȘăšă“ă‚ăžé€ƒă’ă‚‹ćż…èŠă‚’
æ„Ÿă˜ă‚‹ă‚“ă ă€‚é–‰æ‰€ææ€–ç—‡çš„ăȘæ°—æŒăĄă«ăȘるだけでăȘăă€èĄ—ă«ć€§
拱ぼăČăšăŸăĄăŒæŠŒă—ćˆă„ăžă—ćˆă„ă—ăŠă„ă‚‹ăŁăŠă„ă†ăźăŒăƒ€ăƒĄăȘ
んだ。もちろん、ăČăšă„ăćˆă„ăŻć„œăă ă€‚ă§ă‚‚ă€é›»è»Šăźäž­ă‚„æ··ăż
搈ったćș—ă«æŠŒă—èŸŒă‚ă‚‰ă‚ŒăŠă„ă‚‹ăŁăŠæ„Ÿă˜ă‚‹ăźăŒć«ŒăȘんだ。惕は
ă‚čタゾă‚Șからç©șă‚„æ°Žćčłç·šăŒèŠ‹ăˆăȘいべダメăȘんだよ。
1996ćčŽă€ă‚Șă‚Šăƒ†ă‚«ăźă‚·ăƒ§ăƒŒăƒłăƒ»ăƒ–ăƒŒă‚čă‹ă‚‰é€Łç”ĄăŒă‚ăŁăŠïŒœă‚čă‚«

2002 04 Remix No130 pg46.jpg

ムンからぼăƒȘăƒȘăƒŒă‚čがæ±șăŸăŁăŸăă†ă§ă™ă­ă€‚ ăƒžăƒŒă‚«ă‚čïŒšćŹ‰ă—ă‹ăŁăŸă‚ˆă€‚ïŒœă‚čă‚«ăƒ ïŒžăŻèˆˆć‘łæ·±ă„éŸłæ„œă‚’äœœă‚‹ă“
ăšă«ćŻŸă—ăŠçœŸć‰Łă«ć–ă‚Šç”„ă‚“ă§ă„ă‚‹ăƒŹăƒŒăƒ™ăƒ«ă ăšçŸ„ăŁăŠă„ăŸ
し、くă‚čă‚«ăƒ ïŒžăšă‚Șă‚Šăƒ†ă‚«ăźäžĄæ–čăŒćƒ•ă‚‰ăźă‚”ă‚Šăƒłăƒ‰ă«èˆˆć‘łă‚’ă‚‚ăŁ
ăŠă„ă‚‹ăŁăŠă„ă†ăźăŻă€æ™‚ćŽłă—ă„çŠ¶æłă«çœźă‹ă‚ŒăŠă„ăŸè‡Ș戆たち
ă«ăšăŁăŠă€ăšăŠă‚‚æ°—ă„ă‘ă‚‰ă‚Œă‚‹ă“ăšă ăŁăŸă€‚
そうしどăƒȘăƒȘăƒŒă‚čă•ă‚ŒăŸăƒ•ă‚ĄăƒŒă‚čăƒˆăƒ»ă‚ąăƒ«ăƒăƒ ă€ŽMusic Has
'
The Right To Childrenă€ăźă‚żă‚€ăƒˆăƒ«ăźæ„ć‘łă™ă‚‹ăšă“ă‚ăŻïŒŸ ăƒžăƒŒă‚«ă‚čïŒšă“ăźă‚żă‚€ăƒˆăƒ«ăŻă­ă€70ćčŽä»ŁćŸŒćŠăźç’°ćąƒäżè­·è«–è€…ăźă‚č
ăƒ­ăƒŒă‚Źăƒłă€ŒChildren Have The Right To MusicïŒˆć­äŸ›ăŸăĄ
ăŻéŸłæ„œă‚’ă‚„ă‚‹æš©ćˆ©ăŒă‚ă‚‹ïŒ‰ă€ă‚’éŠă‚“ă ă‚‚ăźăȘă‚“ă ă€‚ćœŒă‚‰ăŻć­äŸ›ăŸ
ăĄă«ă€ă‚ˆă‚Šăƒă‚žăƒ†ă‚ŁăƒŽăȘă“ăšăžăźă‚€ăƒłă‚čăƒ”ăƒŹăƒŒă‚·ăƒ§ăƒłă‚’äžŽăˆă‚‹æ‰‹æź”
ăšă—ăŠéŸłæ„œă‚’ăƒ—ăƒŹă‚€ă™ă‚‹ă“ăšă‚’ć­Šă‚“ă§æŹČă—ă„ăšéĄ˜ăŁăŸă€‚ă€ăŸă‚Šćƒ•
ă‚‰ăŻăăźèš€è‘‰ă‚’ăƒ‘ăƒ­ăƒ‡ă‚ŁăŁăŠéŸłæ„œăŒăƒȘ
ă‚čăƒŠăƒŒă‚’ă‚łăƒłăƒˆăƒ­ăƒŒăƒ«ă—ăŠă„ă‚‹ă‚“ă ă€
ăšă„ă†æ„ć‘łă‚’ă»ăźă‚ă‹ă—ăŠăżăŸă‚“ă ă€‚
ă‚ăźă‚ąăƒ«ăƒăƒ ăźă‚čăƒȘăƒŒăƒŽă«ăŻéĄ”ăźăȘ
ă„ć†™çœŸăŒèŒ‰ăŁăŠă„ăŸă™ăŒă€‚
ăƒžă‚€ă‚ŻïŒšæ‚Č抇的ăȘćș•æ„ă‚’ă‚‚ăŸă›ă‚‹æ„ć›ł
ăŒă‚ăŁăŸă€‚ć†™çœŸăŻéŠŽæŸ“ăżăŒă‚ă‚‹ă‚‚ăźă«
èŠ‹ăˆă‚‹ă€ăŸă‚‹ă§ăƒȘă‚čăƒŠăƒŒăźćź¶æ—ăźć†™çœŸ
ă‹ăźă‚ˆă†ă«ă­ă€‚ă§ă‚‚äœ•ă‹ăă™ă‚“ă§ă„ăŠă€
はっきりしăȘい。それが侍漉をそそる。
æ“äœœă—ăŸă‚Šç ŽćŁŠă—ăŸă‚”ă‚Šăƒłăƒ‰ă‚„ă€è‡Ș戆
è‡Șèș«ăźéŽćŽ»ăźćœ±éŸżă‚’ć–ă‚Šć…„ă‚ŒăŸéŸłæ„œ
ă‚’äœœă‚‹ăźăȘら、それがăƒȘă‚čăƒŠăƒŒă«ă‚‚ć…±
æœ‰ă•ă‚Œă€ăƒȘă‚čăƒŠăƒŒè‡Șèș«ăźç”Œéš“ずăȘるようăȘäœœă‚Šæ–čをしăȘければ
いけăȘいんだ。

æ•°ć­ŠăźæœŹă‚’èȘ­ă‚€ăźăŒæœŹćœ“に
ć„œăăȘă‚“ă ă€‚ćƒ•ă‚‰ăźéŸłæ„œă‚„ă‚ąă‚€ăƒ‡ă‚Łă‚ąă«
淚性ăȘćœ±éŸżă‚’äžŽăˆăŠă„ă‚‹ă‚ˆă€‚ăă—ăŠă€
ăă‚Œă‚’çŸ„ă‚Œă°çŸ„ă‚‹ă»ă©ă€æŻŽæ—„ăźç”ŸæŽ»ăź
䞭たäș‹æŸ„ă«ăƒŸă‚čテăƒȘケă‚čăȘæ•°ć­Šçš„ç†ç”±ă‚’
ă‚ˆă‚ŠèŠ‹ă€ă‘ă‚‹ă‚ˆă†ă«ăȘるんだ。

“ケクスăƒȘケă‚șâ€ă‚„â€œăƒăƒƒăƒ”ăƒŒăƒ»ă‚”ă‚€ă‚ŻăƒȘングぼようăȘæ›Čではカ
ăƒƒăƒˆă‚ąăƒƒăƒ—ă•ă‚ŒăŸèš€è‘‰ăŒéąç™œă„ćŠčæžœă‚’é†žă—ć‡șă—ăŠă„ăŸă™ăŒă€ă‚
ă‚ă„ă†æ„ć‘łăźăȘă„èš€è‘‰éŠăłçš„ăȘă‚ąăƒ—ăƒ­ăƒŒăƒăźæ„ć›łă™ă‚‹ăšă“ă‚
ăŻäœ•ă§ă™ă‹ïŒŸ
ăƒžăƒŒă‚«ă‚čïŒšă‚ă‚Œă°â€è€ƒăˆă‚’èȘ˜ç™șă™ă‚‹ăƒ†ă‚Żăƒ‹ăƒƒă‚Żă ă‚ˆă€‚èš€è‘‰ă‚’ă‚
ă‚ă„ă†éąšă«äœżă†ăźăŒć„œăăȘă‚“ă ă€‚ăă‚Œă‚’èŽă„ăŠă„ă‚‹ăšăƒȘă‚čăƒŠăƒŒ
がèȘè­˜ă™ă‚‹ă“ずăȘă—ă«ă€ăĄă‚‡ăŁăšă—ăŸèŹŽă‚„æ–čçš‹ćŒă‚’éŸłæ„œăźäž­ă«
æ§‹çŻ‰ă™ă‚‹ă“ăšăŒă§ăă‚‹ă‹ă‚‰ă­ă€‚
“ケクスăƒȘケă‚ș”でć‡șăŠăă‚‹èš€è‘‰ă€ă‚ă‚Œă°â€œă‚ȘăƒŹăƒłă‚žăŁăŠèš€ăŁăŠ
ă‚‹ă‚“ă§ă™ă‹ă€â€œăƒŠăƒŹăƒƒă‚žăšèš€ăŁăŠă„ă‚‹ă‚“ă§ă™ă‹ă€ăȘă«ă¶ă‚“è‹±èȘž
ăŒè‹Šæ‰‹ăȘă‚“ă§æ•™ăˆăŠäž‹ă•ă„ă€‚
BOCïŒšïŒˆç„Ąć›žç­”ïŒ‰
æ–°äœœă€ŽGeogaddă€ă«â€œMusic Is MathïŒˆéŸłæ„œăšăŻæ•°ć­Šă§ă‚ă‚‹ïŒ‰â€»
べいうæ›ČăŒă‚ă‚ŠăŸă™ă­ă€‚ăăźæ›Čăźäž­ă§ă‚‚æ•°ć­—ă‚’èȘ­ăżäžŠă’ăŠă„ăŸ
すが、いったいあăȘăŸăŒăŸăŒæ•°ć­—ă«æƒčă‹ă‚Œă‚‹æœŹćœ“ăźç†ç”±ăŻäœ•ă§
ă™ă‹ïŒŸ
ăƒžă‚€ă‚ŻïŒšæ•°ć­ŠăźæœŹă‚’èȘ­ă‚€ăźăŒæœŹćœ“ă«ć„œăăȘă‚“ă ă€‚ćƒ•ă‚‰ăźéŸłæ„œă‚„
ă‚ąă‚€ăƒ‡ă‚Łă‚ąă«ć·šć€§ăȘæ™ŻéŸżă‚’äžŽăˆăŠă„ă‚‹ă‚ˆă€‚ăă—ăŠă€ăă‚Œă‚’çŸ„ă‚Œă°
çŸ„ă‚‹ă»ă©ă€æŻŽæ—„ăźç”ŸæŽ»ăźäž­ăźäș‹æŸ„ă«ăƒŸă‚čテăƒȘケă‚čăȘæ•°ć­Šçš„ç†ç”±
ă‚’ă‚ˆă‚ŠèŠ‹ă€ă‘ă‚‹ă‚ˆă†ă«ăȘă‚‹ă‚“ă ă€‚ăă‚Œă‹ă‚‰ă€ăƒ‘ăƒŒăƒ•ă‚§ă‚ŻăƒˆăȘケ

ăƒŒăƒˆăšć‘ŒăčるようăȘもぼをクăƒȘă‚šă‚€ăƒˆă™ă‚‹ăŸă‚ă«æ•°ć­Šă‚’äœżă†ă“ăš
ăŻă€ć€§ăăȘ魅抛でもある。è‡Șćˆ†ăŸăĄăźă‚„ăŁăŠă„ă‚‹ă“ăšăŻäœ•ă§ă‚‚
ăƒ‘ăƒŒăƒ•ă‚§ă‚Żăƒˆă ă€ăŁăŠèš€ăŁăŠă„ă‚‹èšłă˜ă‚ƒăȘいよ。でも、レă‚ȘăƒŠăƒ«
ăƒ‰ăƒ»ăƒ€ăƒ»ăƒŽă‚ŁăƒłăƒăȘă©ăźă‚ąăƒŒăƒ†ă‚Łă‚čăƒˆăŒă‚ąăƒŒăƒˆăźæ•°ć­Šçš„æ€§èłȘă«ć–ă‚Š
æ†‘ă‹ă‚ŒăŠă‹ă‚‰ăšă„ă†ă‚‚ăźă€ćƒ•ă‚‰ă«ă‚‚æ•°ć­Šă‚’ç”šă„ăŠăƒ‘ăƒŒăƒ•ă‚§ă‚ŻăƒˆăȘ
éŸłæ„œă‚’äœœă‚ă†ăšă„ă†ă‚ă‚‹çšźâ€è–ăȘă‚‹ç†æƒłâ€ăŒă‚ăŁăŸă‚“ă ă‚ˆă€‚ćœŒăź
ようăȘç†Ÿç·Žăźç”»ćź¶ăŒæ•°ć­Šă‚’äœżă„â€ăƒ‘ăƒŒăƒ•ă‚§ă‚Żăƒ‰ăȘ甔をクăƒȘă‚šăƒŒ
ăƒˆă—ă‚‡ă†ăšă—ăŸă‚ˆă†ă«ă­ă€‚
“The Smallest Weird Number ïŒˆæœ€ć°ăźć„‡ćŠ™ăȘæ•°ć­—ïŒ‰â€ăšă„
うæ›Čă‚‚ă‚ă‚ŠăŸă™ă‚ˆă­ă€‚ă„ăŁăŸă„ă“ă‚ŒăŻă©ă†ă„ă†æ•°ć­—ăȘă‚“ă§ă™ă‹ïŒŸ
ăƒžăƒŒă‚«ă‚č 70。
ć„œăăȘ氏èȘŹćź¶ăŻèȘ°ă§ă™ă‹ïŒŸ
ăƒžă‚€ă‚ŻïŒšă‚Šăƒłăƒ™ăƒ«ăƒˆăƒ»ă‚šăƒŒă‚łă€ăƒ‹ăƒŒăƒ«ăƒ»ă‚ŹăƒłïŒˆă‚čă‚łăƒƒăƒˆăƒ©ăƒłăƒ‰ăźäœœ
ćź¶ïŒ‰ă€ăƒ­ăƒăƒŒăƒˆăƒ»ă‚ąăƒłăƒˆăƒłăƒ»ă‚Šă‚Łăƒ«ă‚œăƒł
焞秋ćč»æƒłæ–‡ć­ŠïŒ‰ă€ă‚­ăƒ ăƒ»ă‚čタンăƒȘ
ăƒŒăƒ»ăƒ­ăƒ“ăƒłă‚œăƒłïŒˆăƒŹăƒƒăƒ‰ăƒ»ăƒžăƒŒă‚șă€ă§çŸ„
られるSFäœœćź¶ïŒ‰ă€‚
ăƒžăƒŒă‚«ă‚čïŒšă‚°ăƒŹăƒƒă‚°ăƒ»ăƒ™ă‚ąă€ăƒ­ăƒăƒŒăƒˆăƒ»ă‚ą
ăƒłăƒˆăƒłăƒ»ă‚Šă‚Łăƒ«ă‚œăƒłă€‚
ăƒ«ă‚€ă‚čăƒ»ă‚­ăƒŁăƒ­ăƒ«ăšă‚žă‚§ă‚€ăƒ ă‚șăƒ»ă‚žăƒ§ă‚€
ă‚čăšă§ăŻă©ăĄă‚‰ăŒć„œăżă§ă™ă‹ïŒŸèłȘ敏
è€…ăźäșˆæƒłă§ăŻă‚­ăƒŁăƒ­ăƒ«ăȘぼですが。
ăƒžăƒŒă‚«ă‚čïŒšăă†ă ă‚ˆă€ăƒ«ă‚€ă‚čăƒ»ă‚­ăƒŁăƒ­ăƒ«
ă ă‚ˆă€‚äœ•æ•…ăȘă‚‰ćœŒăŻăČăšă€ăźă‚ąăƒŒăƒˆäœœ
ć“ă‚’ćˆ„ăźă‚ąăƒŒăƒˆăźäž­ă«éš ă™ăšă„ă†ă‚ąă‚€
ăƒ‡ă‚Łă‚ąă‚’ç†è§Łă—ăŠă„ă‚‹ă‹ă‚‰ă€‚ăšăŻèš€ăŁ
ăŸă‚‚ăźăźă€ă‚žă‚§ă‚€ăƒ ă‚șăƒ»ă‚žăƒ§ă‚€ă‚čも搌じこべをやった。でも、キャ
ăƒ­ăƒ«ăźéžăƒ•ă‚Ąăƒłă‚żă‚žăƒŒçš„ăȘă‚čăƒˆăƒŒăƒȘăƒŒă‚’äŒăˆă‚‹ăźă«ăƒ•ă‚Ąăƒłă‚żă‚ž
ăƒŒă‚’äœżă†ă‚„ă‚Šæ–čăŻć€©æ‰çš„ă ă‚ˆă€‚
『ハăƒȘăƒŒăƒ»ăƒăƒƒă‚żăƒŒă€ă«ă€ă„ăŠăČべこべ。
ăƒžăƒŒă‚«ă‚čïŒšă‚ăźæœŹăŻăŸă èȘ­ă‚“でいăȘă„ă€‚æ˜ ç”»ăŻèŠłăŸă‘ă©ă€éąç™œ
かったよ。でも、もう民し慈がäșˆæƒłă§ăăȘă„ă‚‚ăźă‚’æœŸćŸ…ă—ăŠăŸă‘
ă©ă­ă€‚äž–ç•Œäž­ăźć­äŸ›ăŒă€ŽăƒăƒȘăƒŒăƒ»ăƒăƒƒă‚żăƒŒă€ăźæœŹă‚’
èȘ­ă‚“ă§ćœ±éŸżă‚’ć—ă‘ă‚‹ăŁăŠă„ă†ăźăŻçŽ æ™Žă‚‰ă—ă„ă“ăšă ăšæ€ă†ă‚ˆă€‚æșćžŻé›»è©±ă€ă‚čニ
ăƒŒă‚«ăƒŒă€ć€§é‡ç”Ÿç”Łă•ă‚ŒăŸăƒăƒƒăƒ—ăƒ»ăƒŸăƒ„ăƒŒă‚žăƒƒă‚Żă«ăšă‚Šæ†‘ă‹ă‚ŒăŸäž–
ç•Œă§ă€ă„ăŸă§ă‚‚æœŹă‚’èȘ­ăżă€æƒłćƒćŠ›ă‚’äœż いăȘがらè‚ČăŁăŠă„ă‚‹ć­äŸ›
ă‚‚ă„ă‚‹ă‚“ă ăšă„ă†ăźă‚’çŸ„ăŁăŠă»ăŁăšă—ăŸă‚ˆă€‚ćžŒæœ›ă‚’äžŽăˆă‚‰ă‚ŒăŸă€‚
ăƒ“ăƒ§ăƒŒă‚Żăźă€ŒăƒŽă‚§ă‚čăƒ‘ă‚żă‚€ăƒłă€ă«ă€ă„ăŠăŻă©ă†æ€ă„ăŸă™ïŒŸ
ăƒžăƒŒă‚«ă‚čïŒšă€ŽăƒŽă‚§ă‚čăƒ‘ă‚żă‚€ăƒłă€ă‚’èŽă„ăŠă„ăȘいんだ。
ă§ă‚‚ă€ă‚šă‚€ăƒ•ă‚§ăƒƒă‚Żă‚čăƒ»ăƒ„ă‚€ăƒłă«ăŻć…±æ„Ÿă™ă‚‹éƒšćˆ†ăŻć€§ăă„ă‚“ă˜ă‚„
ăȘă„ă§ă™ă‹ïŒŸăšăă«ćœŒăźćčŒć…æ€§ăŒć‡șどいるべころべか。
ăƒžă‚€ă‚ŻïŒšăƒȘăƒăƒŁăƒŒăƒ‰ăźéŸłæ„œă«ăŻćƒ•ă‚‰ăšăźă€ăȘăŒă‚Šă‚’æ„Ÿă˜ă‚‹ă‚ˆă€‚ćœŒ
ăŒă‚ăŸă‚ŠăƒŠăƒŒăƒąă‚ąă‚’äœżăŁăŠăȘă„ăšăăźă“ăšă ă‘ă©ă€‚ćœŒăźć Žćˆă€ćčŒ
慐的ăȘçžŹé–“ă§ă•ăˆă‚‚ă‚ąă‚·ăƒƒăƒ‰çš„ă§ç†çŸ„çš„ăȘă‚“ă ă€‚ćœŒăŻéŸłæ„œăźć€©
æ‰ă ă‚ˆă€‚
æ–°äœœăźă‚żă‚€ăƒˆăƒ«ăźæ„ć‘łă™ă‚‹ăšă“ă‚ă‚’æ•™ăˆăŠăă ă•ă„ă€‚
ăƒžăƒŒă‚«ă‚čïŒšă€ŽMucis Has The Right To Childrenă€ăŻćƒ•ă‚‰ă«
ずっおç‰čćźšăźæ„ć‘łă‚’ă‚‚ăŁăŸă‚‚ăźă ăŁăŸă€‚ă§ă‚‚ă€ćƒ•ă‚‰ăŻăƒȘă‚čăƒŠăƒŒă«

2002 04 Remix No130 pg47.jpg

è‡Șèș«ăźæ„ć‘łă‚’ă‚żă‚€ăƒˆăƒ«ă‹ă‚‰èŠ‹ă€ă‘ăŠæŹČă—ă„ăšæ€ăŁăŠă„ă‚‹ă€‚ă‚ă‚‹
ç‰čćźšăźæ„ć‘łă«ç‹­ă‚ăŠă—ăŸă†ă‚ˆă‚ŠăŻă€ă‚Żă‚šă‚čăƒăƒ§ăƒłăƒ»ăƒžăƒŒă‚Żă‚’æź‹ă—
どおいたæ–čăŒă‚€ăƒłă‚čăƒ”ăƒŹăƒŒă‚·ăƒ§ăƒłă‚’äžŽăˆă‚‹ă‹ă‚‰ă­ă€‚
Geogaddiă€ăŻă‚łăƒłă‚»ăƒ—ăƒˆă‚ă‚Šăăźă‚ąăƒ«ăƒăƒ ă§ăŻăȘă„ă‚“ă§ă™ă‹ïŒŸ
ăƒžă‚€ă‚ŻïŒšă‚łăƒłă‚»ăƒ—ăƒˆăŒă‚ă‚‹ăšă—ăŸă‚‰ă€ă‚ăĄă‚ƒăăĄă‚ƒăźçŠ¶æ…‹ă«ăŠă‹ă‚Œ
ăŸăšăăźæ„œă—ă•ă€‚éŸłæ„œă€ă‚”ă‚Šăƒłăƒ‰ăƒ»ăƒŽă‚Łă‚žăƒ„ă‚ąăƒ«ă€ăă—ăŠçŸ„èŠšăŒäșŒ
ăƒłăƒˆăƒ­ăƒŒăƒ«ăźćŠčかăȘă„çŠ¶æłă§ăŠă‹ă—ăȘ拕きをみせ、ćč»èŠšăźă‚ˆă†
に焥秩ćșă«ă‚ăĄă“ăĄăžăšć‹•ăć›žă‚‹ă€‚ăƒŽă‚Łă‚žăƒ„ă‚ąăƒ«ă«äŸ‹ăˆă‚‹ăšă€æ™ź
é€šăźăƒăƒƒăƒ—ăƒ»ăƒŸăƒ„ăƒŒă‚žăƒƒă‚Żăźă‚ąăƒ«ăƒăƒ ă‚’çČ‰ă€…ă«æ‰“ăĄç •ă„ăŸă‚Șハン
ă‚žăźă‚Źăƒ©ă‚čèŁœăźăƒœăƒˆăƒ«ă‚’é€šă—ăŠèŠ‹ă‚‹æ„Ÿă˜ă‹ăȘ。
ă‚”ă‚€ă‚±ăƒ‡ăƒȘăƒƒă‚ŻăšćźšçŸ©ă•ă‚Œă‚‹ă“ăšă«é•ć’Œæ„ŸăŻă‚ă‚ŠăŸă™ă‹ïŒŸ
ăƒžăƒŒă‚«ă‚čăȘいよ。もし、それが科歩的ăȘæ„ć‘łă§ăźă‚”ă‚€ă‚±ăƒ‡ăƒȘケ
ăšă„ă†æ„ć‘łă§ă€ăƒăƒłăƒ‰ă‚„æ˜ ç”»ăŒäżĄć„‰ă™ă‚‹äœżă„ć€ă•ă‚ŒăŸă‚«ăƒ«ăƒăƒŁ
ăƒŒăšă—ăŠăźæ„ć‘łă§ăȘă‘ă‚Œă°ă­ă€‚ă‚”ă‚€ă‚±ăƒ‡ăƒȘックăȘç”Œéš“ăŁăŠă„ă†ăź
は60ćčŽä»Łăźă‚«ăƒ«ăƒăƒŁăƒŒă‚„ăƒ’ăƒƒăƒ”ăƒŒăźă‚ŻăƒȘă‚·ă‚§ăźć€–ćŽă«ć­˜ćœšă™ă‚‹
ă‚“ă ă‚ˆă€‚ă‚”ă‚€ă‚±ăƒ‡ăƒȘックăȘç”Œéš“ăŻæ–°çŸłć™šæ™‚ä»Łăźç©Žć±…äșșであろう
ăšă€é ăăźæƒ‘æ˜Ÿă«ă„ă‚‹ćź‡ćź™äșșであろうべできるこべăȘんだ。
ă‚”ă‚€ă‚±ăƒ‡ăƒȘăƒƒă‚Żăšă„ă†ă‚‚ăźă‚’ă©ăźă‚ˆă†ăȘă‚‚ăźă ăšè€ƒăˆăŠă„ăŸă™ă‹ïŒŸ ăƒžă‚€ă‚ŻïŒšă‚ąăƒŒăƒˆăšă„ă†æ„ć‘łă‹ăȘă€‚æ­Łćžžă§ă‚ă‚‹ă“ăšăźé€€ć±ˆă‚’æ‰“ăĄç Ž
ă‚‹ă“ăšă«ă‚ˆăŁăŠă‚€ăƒłă‚čăƒ”ăƒŹăƒŒă‚·ăƒ§ăƒłă‚’äžŽăˆă‚‹ă‚ąăƒŒăƒˆă™ăčお。湗長
ă—ăŸă€ăŸăŸăŻç ŽćŁŠă•ă‚ŒăŸăƒžă‚€ăƒłăƒ‰ă‚’ă‚‚ă€ăšă„ă†ç”Œéš“ă‚’ć–šè”·ă™ă‚‹
もぼすăčど。
æ›ČたăȘă‹ă§ć­äŸ›ćŁ°ă‚’ć€šç”šă™ă‚‹ăźăŻă€ă©ă†ă—ăŸç†ç”±ă‹ă‚‰ă§ă™ă‹ïŒŸ ăƒžă‚€ă‚ŻïŒšăƒȘă‚čăƒŠăƒŒă«ćłćș§ă«ćŠčæžœă‚’äžŽăˆă‚‹ă“ăšăźă§ăă‚‹ă‚”ă‚Šăƒłăƒ‰ăȘ
ă‚“ă ă€‚ă—ă‹ă—ă€ăăźæ„ć‘łăŻă„ă‚ă„ă‚ăȘæ‰ăˆæ–čăŒă§ăă‚‹ă€‚äŸ‹ăˆă°
ćčžçŠæ„Ÿă€ć–Șć€±æ„Ÿă€ææ€–ă€èˆˆć„źă€æ‚ČしみăȘă©ă€‚ă‚ă‚‹æ„œæ›ČたăȘかでこれ
ă‚‰ăźćŁ°ă‚’èŽăăšă€ăă‚Œă‚‰ăźæ„Ÿæƒ…ăŒćą—ćŒ·ă•ă‚Œă‚‹ă‚“ă ă€‚ăšăă«ăăź
ćŁ°ă‚’ć–ă‚Šć…„ă‚ŒăŸæ„ć‘łăŒă‚ă‹ă‚‰ăȘă„ăšăă«ăŻă­ăƒ»ăƒ»ăƒ»ă€‚
éŸłæ„œçš„ç”Œéš“ă«ăŠă„ăŠă€BOCăŒă‚‚ăŁăšă‚‚é‡èŠèŠ–ă™ă‚‹ă“ăšăŻäœ•ă§
ă™ă‹ïŒŸ
ăƒžăƒŒă‚«ă‚čè‡Șćˆ†ăŒæƒłćƒă—ăŸă‚‚ăźă‚’ć†æ§‹çŻ‰ă—ăŠăƒŹă‚łăƒŒăƒ‡ă‚Łăƒłă‚°ă™
ă‚‹ă“ăšă€‚ăă‚ŒăŒäœœæ›Čăźç©¶æ„”ăźç›źçš„ăȘă‚“ă ă€‚ă€ăŸă‚Šă€äž­é–“éƒšćˆ†ă‚’
ć–ă‚Šé™€ă„ăŠă€è‡Ș戆ぼ頭ぼăȘă‹ă§æœ€ćˆă«èŽă„ăŸă‚‚ăźă‚’ăƒȘă‚čăƒŠăƒŒă«
ćŻŸă—ăƒ€ă‚€ăƒŹă‚Żăƒˆă«äŒăˆă‚‹ă€‚ćƒ•ăŻă€ă‚‚ă—ç„žăŒă„ă‚‹ăšă—ăŸă‚‰ă€ç„žăŻéŸłæ„œ
ă‚’é€šă˜ăŠă‚łăƒŸăƒ„ăƒ‹ă‚±ăƒŒăƒˆă™ă‚‹ăźă ăšæ€ăŁăŠă„ă‚‹ă€‚ă„ăŸăŸă§ă€éŸłæ„œ
ă‚’é€šă˜ăŠç„žă«ćˆ°é”ă—ă‚ˆă†ăšă—ăŸăƒŸăƒ„ăƒŒă‚žă‚·ăƒŁăƒłă«ă€ă„ăŠè‡Ș戆ăȘ
ă‚Šă«ç ”ç©¶ă‚’ă—ăŠăăŸă€‚ăă—ăŠă€ç„Ąç„¶ă«ă‚‚ćœŒă‚‰ăźäœœăŁăŸéŸłæ„œăšă„ă†
ăźăŻă€ćƒ•ă‚’ă‚‚ăŁăšă‚‚ć„‡ćŠ™ăȘæ°—æŒăĄă«ă•ă›ăŸă‚‚ăźă ăŁăŸă‚“ă ă€‚ăŸ
るでそれらぼæ›ČăŒă‚ąăƒŒăƒ†ă‚Łă‚čăƒˆă«ă‚ˆăŁăŠäœœă‚‰ă‚ŒăŠă„ăȘいようăȘ
æ„Ÿă˜ă ăŁăŸă‚“ă ă€‚ăƒ–ăƒ©ă‚€ă‚ąăƒłăƒ»ă‚Šă‚Łăƒ«ă‚œăƒłăźâ€ă‚Žăƒƒăƒ‰ăƒ»ă‚ȘンăƒȘăƒŒăƒ»ăƒŽ
ォă‚șă‚’èŽă„ăŠăżăŠă‚ˆă€‚ç„ˆă‚Šă‚’æ§ă’ă‚‹ç„žăŒă„ă‚‹ă‚“ă ăŁăŸă‚‰ă€ćƒ•ă‚‚
ă“ă‚Œă‚’è©Šă—ăŠăżă‚ˆă†ăšæ€ă†ă€‚ćŁ

2002 04 Remix No130 pg114.jpg


albumreviews


KICK THE CAN CREW

Vitalizer

ă‚­ăƒƒă‚ŻăŻäœ•ă‚‚ć€‰ă‚ăŁăĄă‚ƒă„ăȘă„ă€‚ćœŒă‚‰ăŻèŠ‹äș‹ă«ć‰äœœă€ŒYoung Kingă€ăźć»¶é•·ç·šäžŠă§æ–°ă—ă„ă‚ąăƒ«ăƒăƒ ă‚’ă€ăă‚ŠäžŠă’
ăŸă€‚ă“ă“ă§ăŻă‚„ăŁă±ă‚Šć ‚ă€…ć·Ąă‚Šăźè‡Ș敏è‡Șç­”ăšăƒŠă‚€ăƒˆăƒ»ă‚Żăƒ©ăƒ“ăƒłă‚°ăźæ„œă—ă•ăŒèȘžçŻ‰è±Šă‹ăȘăƒ©ă‚€ăƒŸăƒłă‚°ăźäž­ă§æ­Œă‚ă‚Œă‚‹ă€‚
ç‰čé›†ăźćŽŸçšżă§ăŻă€Œć‰äœœă‚ˆă‚Šçąșèš€çŠŻçš„ă«ć€§ć‘łă«ä»•äžŠă’ă‚‰ă‚ŒăŸäœœć“ă€ăšæ›žă„ăŸăŒă€èŽă‘ă°èŽăçš‹ă€ă‚„ăŁă±ă‚Šć€‰ă‚ăŁăŠăŻă„ăȘă„ăšă„ă†ć°è±Ąăźæ–čが拝っ
どいく。それăȘăźă«ă€ć‰äœœăŒć€§ć„œăă ăŁăŸè‡Șćˆ†ăŒä»Šäœœă‚’ç©æ„”çš„ă«æ”ŻæŒă§ăăȘ
ă„ç†ç”±ăŻă€äŸ‹ăˆă°ă“ă†ă„ă†äș‹ăȘぼかもしれăȘă„ă€‚ćƒ•ăŻă‚­ăƒƒă‚Żăźă€ăƒ’ăƒƒăƒ—ăƒ›ăƒƒăƒ—ăƒ»ă‚”ăƒŒă‚Żăƒ«ă«ăŠă‘ă‚‹éĄžćž‹çš„ăȘă€Œäžè‰Ż
çš„èĄšçŸă€ăžăźă‚ąăƒłăƒăšă—ăŠæ‰“ăĄć‡șă•ă‚Œă‚‹ă€ŒăƒŠă‚€ăƒŒăƒŽăȘèĄšçŸă€ă«ă“ăăŻăŁăă‚ŠăšćŒ•ă‹ă‚ŒăŠăăŸéƒšćˆ†ăŒă‚ă‚‹ă€‚ă—ă‹ă—ćœŒ
ă‚‰ăŒă€ă„ă–ăƒ’ăƒƒăƒ—ăƒ›ăƒƒăƒ—ăƒ»ă‚·ăƒŒăƒłă‹ă‚‰ć‡șど、Jăƒăƒƒăƒ—ăƒ»ă‚·ăƒŒăƒłăźäž­ă«æźŽă‚ŠèŸŒă‚“ă§ă„ăŁăŸă‚‰ă€ăă“ă«ăŻă€Œäžè‰Żçš„èĄšçŸă€ă‚ˆ
ă‚Šă‚‚ă€ŒăƒŠă‚€ăƒŒăƒŽăȘèĄšçŸă€ăźæ–čăŒăšăŁăšć€šăăŠă€ă—ă‹ă‚‚æ±‚ă‚ă‚‰ă‚ŒăŠă„ăŠă€ćœŒă‚‰ăŻæș¶ă‘èŸŒă‚€ă‚ˆă†ă«ă™ă‚“ăȘă‚Šăšć—ă‘ć…„ă‚Œă‚‰
ă‚ŒăŠă—ăŸăŁăŸă€‚ăă—ăŠćœŒă‚‰ăźă€Œă‚ąăƒłăƒă€ăźéƒšćˆ†ăŻă†ă‚„ă‚€ă‚„ă«ăȘăŁăŠă—ăŸăŁăŸăźă ă€‚ă€Œć€§ć‘łă€ă«æ„Ÿă˜ăŸăźăŻăă“ă ă‚ă†ă€‚
ă—ă‹ă—ă€ă ă‹ă‚‰ă“ăă€ă“ă‚ŒăŻć€§ăăȘç”æžœă‚’ć‡șă™ă‚ąăƒ«ăƒăƒ ă«ăȘるぼだ。間違いăȘăćƒ•ăŒć°‘æ•°æŽŸă§ă‚ă‚‹ă€‚ïŒˆçŁŻéƒšæ¶ŒïŒ‰


BOARDS OF CANADA

Geogaddi

ă“ă‚ŒăŻćŻŸćȞた火äș‹ă‚’çœșめるようăȘéŸłæ„œă ă€‚ăƒœăƒŒă‚ș・ă‚Șăƒ–ăƒ»ă‚«ăƒŠăƒ€ăŻă“ăźæ™‚ä»Łă«è”·ă“ăŁăŠă„ă‚‹ć…šăŠăźă“ăšă«çŽ çŸ„ă‚‰
ăŹéĄ”ă‚’ă—ăŠă€ăŸă ăŸă æ©Ÿèƒœçš„ăȘトăƒȘăƒƒăƒ—ăƒ»ăƒŸăƒ„ăƒŒă‚žăƒƒă‚Żă‚’ç”šæ„ă™ă‚‹ă€‚é€†ć›žè»ąă™ă‚‹ăƒ‰ăƒ©ăƒ ă‚„ă€çč°ă‚Šèż”ă•ă‚Œă‚‹ć€ăłăŸăƒŽă‚©ă‚€
ă‚čăƒ»ă‚”ăƒłăƒ—ăƒ«ăŒè±ĄćŸŽă™ă‚‹ă‚ˆă†ă«ă€ćœŒă‚‰ă«ăšăŁăŠăźăƒˆăƒȘăƒƒăƒ—ăšăŻïŒă‚čă‚żăƒ«ă‚žăƒŒă«æ”žă‚‹ă“ăšă§ă‚ă‚‹ă€‚ăă—ăŠă€ä»Šäœœă«ăŻăŻăŁ
きりべ”1969”べいうæ›Čがあり、そぼノă‚čă‚żăƒ«ă‚žăƒŒăŻæ„œć€©çš„ă§ăŻăȘく、æ‚Șいäșˆæ„Ÿă«æș€ăĄăŠă„ă‚‹ă€‚ăƒŽă‚čă‚żăƒ«ă‚žăƒƒă‚ŻăȘト
ăƒȘăƒƒăƒ—ă‚’ç”šæ„ă—ăŠăŠăăȘăŒă‚‰ă€ăƒœăƒŒă‚ș・ă‚Șăƒ–ăƒ»ă‚«ăƒŠăƒ€ăŒé€Łă‚ŒăŠă„ăăźăŻă€ăƒ©ăƒ–ïŒ†ăƒ”ăƒŒă‚čăźæŒ«æŠ˜ă‚’äșˆæ„Ÿă•ă›ă‚‹ă‚ˆă†ăȘォッ
ドă‚čトックがあったćčŽă€1969ćčŽă ă€‚ăăźă“ăšă‚’è­Šć‘Šă™ă‚‹ăŸă‚ă«ă€ćœŒă‚‰ăŻçŸŽă—ă„ăƒĄăƒ­ăƒ‡ă‚Łă«ăŻæČˆăżèŸŒă‚“ă§ă„ăăƒžă‚€ăƒŠ
ïŒă‚łăƒŒăƒ‰ă‚’ă€éș»è–Źçš„ăȘăƒ‰ăƒ©ăƒ ăƒ»ăƒ«ăƒŒăƒ—ă«ăŻćŽ©ă‚ŒèœăĄă‚‹çžŹé–“ă‚’ćżă°ă›ăŠă„ă‚‹ă€‚ăŒă€ă—ă‹ă—ă€ă“ă‚ŒăŻăƒăƒŒăƒĄăƒ«ăƒłăźçŹ›ćč
きぼようăȘéŸłæ„œă§ă‚‚ă‚ă‚‹ă€‚æ·Ąè‡Șかç©șéš’ăŽă‹ăšă„ă†ă“ăźæ™‚ä»ŁăŻć±…ćżƒćœ°ăŒæ‚Șă„ăšæ€ăŁăŠă„ăŠă€ăăźć‘ă“ă†ă«ćŸ…ăŁăŠă„
ă‚‹ăźăŒäŸ‹ăˆă©ă‚“ăȘăƒăƒƒăƒ‰ăƒ»ăƒˆăƒȘăƒƒăƒ—ă§ă‚ă‚ă†ăšă€ă“ăźé­…æƒ‘çš„ăȘăƒĄăƒ­ăƒ‡ă‚ŁăƒŒăšăƒȘă‚șムăȘă‚‰ă€ă„ăŠă„ăŁăŠă—ăŸă†äșșは性拹い
るだろう。箄3ćčŽćŠă¶ă‚Šăźă‚»ă‚«ăƒłăƒ‰ă€‚ç„Ąæ°—ć‘łăȘçš‹ă‚żă‚€ăƒŸăƒłă‚°ăźè‰Żă„ăƒȘăƒȘăƒŒă‚čă ă€‚ïŒˆçŁŻéƒšæ¶ŒïŒ‰


SHING02

400

「400ă€ă‚’ăƒ©ă‚€ăƒŽă§èŽă„ăŠä»„é™ă€ć›șć”Ÿă‚’éŁČă‚“ă§ăŸă ăăźæ™‚ă‚’ćŸ…ăŁăŠă„ăŸă€‚ă€Œ400ă€ă‚’ă‚ąă‚«ăƒšăƒ©ă§èŽă„ăŸăšăăźćŸźć‹•
ćŁèšć‡ș杄ăȘかったæȈ痛ăȘè‹Šă€…ă—ă„èż„ăźèĄæ’ƒă‚’æ€ă„ć‡șす。ăƒȘăƒȘăƒƒă‚ŻăŒæ€ă„ăŁăă‚ŠçȘăćˆșă•ăŁăŠăă‚‹ă‚“ă ă€‚ăƒ–ăƒ«ăƒ–ăƒ«
ăšéœ‡ăˆăŸă‚°ăƒŒă«ć›șăŸăŁăŸæ‹łăźé‰Ÿć…ˆăŻæŹĄçŹŹă«äœ•æ™‚ă‚‚ăźć‡Šă«ă€‚ăă†é‚ă«ă‚·ăƒłă‚Ž02ăźæ–°äœœăŒćźŒæˆă—ăŸă‚“ă ă€‚ă‚·ăƒłă‚Ž
02ぼ魅抛ぼăČăšă€ă«ă€ćœŒăźäœœè©žăźä»–ă‚ˆă‚Šç§€ă§ăŸèƒœćŠ›ăŒă‚ă‚‹ă€‚ăă‚ŒăŻă€çŸä»Łăźé—‡ăźéƒšćˆ†ă«ă‚‚æ·±ă„ć…±æœ‰éƒšćˆ†ă‚’æœ‰
ă—ăŠă„ă‚‹ăšæ€ă‚ă‚Œă‚‹ă‹ă‚‰ă€äžæ€è­°ăšć…±æ„Ÿă‚’èŠšăˆă‚‹ă€‚ăă‚ŒăŻăƒœă‚Żă«é™ăŁăŸă“ăšă˜ă‚ƒăȘいかもしれăȘいが。闇ぼ郹戆は、
民ăȘă‹ă‚‰ăšă€ć«ăżçŹ‘ă„ă«ă‚‚äŒŒăŸçŹ‘ă„ă‚’äŒŽă†ă€‚ăă‚ŒăŻă‚·ăƒłă‚Ž02ăźäœœć“ă‹ă‚‰ă‚‚èȘ­ăżć–ă‚‰ă‚Œă€ăă‚ŒăŻç—›ç—’ă„çź‡æ‰€ă‚’ăă™
ăă‚‰ă‚Œç«ç‚™ă‚Šă«ă•ă‚Œă‚‹ăă‚“ăȘè¶Łă€‚ă€ăŸă‚ŠăŻă€ăƒȘăƒȘăƒƒă‚Żă«ć…±æ„Ÿć‡șæ„ă‚‹æ›Čă€…ă«éąç™œăżăżăŸă„ăȘă‚‚ăźă‚’ćŒ·ăæ„Ÿă˜ă‚‹ă€‚ăă“
で、ごず、あっ『400」は、「400」ぼăƒȘăƒȘăƒƒă‚ŻăŻć…šéƒšæ—„æœŹèȘžăȘă‚“ă ăšă€ă”ăšæˆ‘ă«é‚„ă‚‹ă€‚æ—„æœŹèȘžăƒ©ăƒƒăƒ—ă«äœ•ă‚‚ăƒȘă‚ąăƒ«ă‚’

æ„Ÿă˜ăȘă„è‹„äșșたæ–čă€…ă«ăŻć…±æ„Ÿă‚’ćŸ—ă‚‰ă‚Œă‚‹ă‚“ă§ăŻăȘă„ăźă§ă—ă‚‡ă†ă‹ïŒŸäœ•æ•…ă‹ăŁăŠïŒŸă‚·ăƒłă‚Ž02ぼ侖界はçąșćźŸă«
ç‹Źć‰”çš„ă§ă€ă§ă‚‚æ—„ćžžçš„ă§ă€ăă‚ŒăŻæˆç«‹ă—ăŠă‚‹ă‹ă‚‰ă€‚ăƒȘă‚ąăƒ«ă•ă§æŻ”èŒƒă™ă‚‹ăšă€Œç·‘é»„è‰Čäșș繼」ぼ120%ă€‚ïŒˆćŒ—ć·é”ć“‰


Note: Translated by ChatGPT-4o


2002 04 Remix No130 pg42.jpg


Boards of Canada:

Magical, Mystery, Cycling

Finally, Boards of Canada have released their second album, showcasing their cyclical, dreamlike quality.


Should we say “finally”? Or perhaps “at long last”? Or maybe “just when we'd almost forgotten about them”? Honestly, I'm not sure. Either way, Boards of Canada have a new release. Yes, it's happening, Mr. Katon! But wait, what is Boards of Canada? The hottest name in electronica post-Autechre? Oh please, let's not reduce them to some B-grade critic's clichĂ©. This is the psychedelic of the now, where progress and decay coexist in harmony.


2002 04 Remix No130 pg43.jpg

words Tsutomu Noda . Nachiro Kato

translation Kyoko Fukuda . Kana Muramatsu

2002 04 Remix No130 pg44.jpg


The appeal of Boards of Canada lies, without a doubt, in their extreme playfulness. Their popular tracks like "Aquarius" and "Happy Cycling" share a playful dreamlike quality. For example, in "Happy Cycling", the nonsensical words spoken repeatedly within the minimalistic loops create a dry, dreamlike world. There's no room for adult concepts like love or spirituality in this space—it's a dream built on an almost childlike perspective. The dry yet lyrical quality of the dream, with its intersections of nonsense, is where Boards of Canada remains fully committed.


This type of psychedelia is far removed from both an attempt to engage with reality and the search for meaning within the dreamworld. As a result, we find ourselves endlessly spinning within Boards of Canada's "Happy Cycling" (a literal cycle of happiness). As long as we listen to the music, the dream continues spinning infinitely.


It's like in Alice in Wonderland when the sister knows that simply opening her eyes would bring her back to the dull reality. And honestly, it's not just her who knows this.

When Music Has the Right to Children was released in 1998, many who fell in love with it probably didn't want to wake up to disillusionment. Much like how a child is engrossed in playful nonsense, only to have the mood ruined by an adult's dull reasoning, we all know that whether it's psychedelia or fantasy, adult logic can often feel out of place. We've grown tired of preachy meanings, neatly packaged romanticism, or the same old “one love” sentiment. In that case, it's better to be completely isolated from such things.


In the late 90s, while rave culture flourished in Japan, Boards of Canada's music, with its dry, lyrical dreaminess, offered something entirely different, filling a unique need on Japanese dance floors. In "Aquarius", numbers are recited in a minimalist style but eventually jump randomly. The randomness doesn't matter, though; we're simply playing in this dry, dreamlike nonsense. This is the essence of Boards of Canada's music, a continual repetition that plays with minimalism, children's voices, and dreamlike sounds. It's a sound that's hard to describe as anything other than BoC, a slightly muffled, rotating, dreamlike sound.


In the first album's opening track, "An Eagle in Your Mind", the child's voice saying "I love you" sounds like it's mocking reality, beckoning us into this closed, expansive dreamworld. In the UK, Boards of Canada is classified as psychedelic rather than electronica, and indeed, their music has more in common with The Beatles' Sgt. Pepper's or wikipedia:The Beach Boys' Pet Sounds than with Autechre. Their second album, Geogaddi, is essentially a direct continuation of their first. Although there are some minor changes in rhythm and sound, it's essentially a sequel.


While Richard James (Aphex Twin) constantly shows different sides of himself with each album, the Scottish duo of Mike Sandison and Marcus Eoin faithfully recreated their dreamworld again. They presented their isolated, otherworldly space. "When we think about reality, we have to work, defecate, pay taxes..." said Kato-san. "Exactly, Kato-san. That's the reality. It's impossible to play in this dreamworld forever," he replied. "In fact, this is the pursuit of the impossible. Perhaps that's what leads to their dry lyricism." "Ah, that's quite a bleak perspective," Kato-san laughed.


First, about how the two met.
Marcus: We spent a lot of time outdoors, learning to be creative. As a kid, I was really into movies, especially sci-fi and the kinds of films my parents didn't want me to watch.
The movies I watched back then had a huge impact on the music and imagery I create. I've always been fascinated by dystopian futures, particularly from the 1970s perspective.
They traveled around various places, like northern Scotland, southern England, and Alberta, Canada.
Marcus: My parents worked in construction, so we moved wherever the work was.
What place left the most impression on you?
Mike: Probably northern Scotland. It's so simple and laid-back there. It allowed me to focus on important things, like reading books and breathing fresh air. However, living in such a remote community meant missing out on much of popular culture. The ideal, I think, is to experience both extremes at some point in life because it broadens your perspective.
Can you name three rock bands you like?
2002 04 Remix No130 pg45.jpg
Marcus: Other influences were Devo, Nitzer Ebb, DAF, and various underground hip-hop records.
Could you name three black music artists you like?
Marcus: Stevie Wonder. If he didn't exist, pop music today would sound entirely different. Then there's Mary J. Blige. Honestly, I don't like most of her music, but her singing carries such pain and emotion that I feel like she could even sing about doing laundry, and I'd still feel something from it. The third is Earth, Wind & Fire. They're an underrated band despite influencing many musicians today. I think their song structures and the strange influences from Middle Eastern numerology and astrology are overlooked just because they were labeled as a disco band. Their modern version would be Wu-Tang Clan, right? They probably share similar influences. Just as the genius RZA has influenced the sound of today's bands.
Is the name Boards of Canada derived from the "National Film Board of Canada" documentary series?
Marcus: It's a state-funded Canadian film/documentary production organization. While their specialty is documentaries, they've made a lot of artistic works too. When we lived in Canada, wildlife programs filmed on 16mm were trending. They were visually stunning, like footage of a hawk soaring down from the sky into a vast landscape, accompanied by narration that felt poetic. The music that went with these images was synthesizer-based. It felt like experimental synth music, but I can't say the recordings were always perfect.
Did you draw any musical inspiration from these programs?
Mike: There are those "public information films," you know? Like "flying a kite near power lines is dangerous" or "how to climb a ladder properly". In Canada, NFB handled most of these films. I think the music used in those films had a kind of sinister undertone. It always inspired us, more so than regular pop records. Another big inspiration was the single-synth sound effects used in old sci-fi movies, like in the UKs Doctor Who or Child's Play. In fact, we've been more inspired by TV and film than by pop music. Also, things like jingles from American TV series or the ending theme of the Japanese anime Gatchaman (laughs).
Could you name specific films or movies that have influenced you?
Marcus: I like films that leave room for imagination. At the same time, I enjoy works where beautiful shots and loose, ad-libbed dialogues along with the real world provide inspiration. My video collection probably covers most sci-fi films. But what I really love are Walkabout by Nicolas Roeg, Zabriskie Point by Michelangelo Antonioni, or Papillon and Lawrence of Arabia. I think they share a common theme. I also like surfing movies, but not modern ones — the ones shot in the 70s with psychedelic soundtracks, like Big Wednesday. There's something about the slow-motion wave tube shots that feels incredibly beautiful. Meanwhile, the acid-like psychedelic music fills the consciousness of the viewer.
Mike: Picnic at Hanging Rock, The Illustrated Man (based on Bradburys novel), The Wicker Man (an ultra-cult British movie). All these films leave room for the viewer's mind to work, which stirs up emotions, making them effective films.
Your music as BOC evokes images of Scottish countryside or misty dawn landscapes, but does regionality play a significant role in your production? I don't think such landscape depictions could be born in Japan.
Mike: That's an interesting thing to say because I've always imagined that the landscape of Japan is somewhat similar to Scotland. Mountains and trees, and lots of rain, right? But you're probably referring to urban Japan. For me, I draw inspiration from natural landscapes wherever I go. If there's one thing that drains my inspiration for music, it's urban influences. I can't live long in an urban environment. I immediately feel the need to escape to quieter places. It's not just the claustrophobic feeling, but also the crowd of people pushing and shoving in the city that I can't handle. Of course, I enjoy socializing. But I hate the feeling of being crammed into a train or a crowded store. I need to be able to see the sky or the horizon from the studio.
2002 04 Remix No130 pg46.jpg
In 1996, you were contacted by Autechre's Sean Booth to release your music on the Skam label.
Marcus: I was very happy. I knew that Skam was a label that takes making interesting music seriously, and both Skam and Autechre being interested in our sound was a big realization for us, especially since we were in a tough spot at the time.
What does the title of the first album, Music Has The Right To Children, mean?
Marcus: The title is a play on a slogan from environmental activists in the late '70s: "Children Have The Right To Music". They wanted children to learn to play music as a way to inspire them toward more positive things. So, we parodied that phrase, hinting at the idea that music controls the listener.
The sleeve of that album features photos without faces.
Mike: We intended to give it a tragic undertone. The photos seem familiar, like family photos, but something is off and unclear. That gives a sense of unease.
You like books about mathematics. How has that influenced your music?
Mike: Math has had a huge influence on us. The more we learn about it, the more we see mysterious mathematical reasons behind everyday things. Using math to create something you could call "perfect art" is fascinating. Not that we're saying what we do is perfect, but much like artists such as Leonardo da Vinci, who were obsessed with the mathematical nature of art, we too have this "sacred ideal" of using math to create perfect music.
"I really enjoy reading books about mathematics. They've had a huge influence on our music and ideas. The more I learn, the more I find mysterious mathematical reasons behind everyday things."
What do you mean by "The Smallest Weird Number" in your track?
Marcus: 70.
Who are your favorite novelists?
Mike: Umberto Eco, Neil Gunn (a Scottish author), Robert Anton Wilson (fantasy), and Kim Stanley Robinson (known for Red Mars).
Which do you prefer, Lewis Carroll or James Joyce? I expect Carroll.
Marcus: Yes, it's Lewis Carroll|Carroll. He understood the idea of hiding one piece of art within another. Although James Joyce did the same thing, Carroll's way of telling a non-fantasy story using fantasy is genius.
A word about Harry Potter?
Marcus: I haven't read the book yet. I saw the movie and thought it was interesting, but I expected something less predictable. Still, it's great that children worldwide are reading Harry Potter. It's reassuring to know that kids are still growing up using their imagination, reading books in a world dominated by cell phones, sneakers, and mass-produced pop music. It gave me hope.
What do you think of Björk's Vespertine?
Marcus: I haven't listened to Vespertine.
But you must feel a certain kinship with Aphex Twin, especially with his childlike qualities, right?
Mike: I feel a connection with Richard's music, though only when he's not using humor. Even his childlike moments are acid-like and intellectual. He's a musical genius.
What does the title of your new work mean?
Marcus: Music Has The Right To Children had a specific meaning for us, but we leave it open for interpretation by the listener.
2002 04 Remix No130 pg47.jpg
"I want people to find their own meaning in the title. Leaving a question mark rather than narrowing it down to a specific meaning sparks more inspiration."
Isn't Geogaddi a concept-driven album?
Mike: If there's a concept, it's the enjoyment of chaos. The music, sound, visuals, and perception all behave oddly, moving uncontrollably, like hallucinations bouncing around in a disorderly fashion. Visually, it's like looking through an orange glass bottle that has been shattered, like a typical pop music album smashed to pieces.
Does being labeled "psychedelic" feel uncomfortable?
Marcus: Not at all, as long as it's in the scientific sense of psychedelia, rather than in the worn-out cultural sense that bands or movies might adhere to. Psychedelic experiences exist beyond 1960s culture or hippie clichés. Whether it's a Neolithic caveman or aliens from distant planets, they can have psychedelic experiences too.
How do you define something as psychedelic?
Mike: I see it as art—anything that breaks the monotony of normalcy and inspires creativity. It's anything that evokes the experience of an expanded or disrupted mind.
Why do you often use children's voices in your tracks?
Mike: It's a sound that has an immediate effect on listeners, but it can be interpreted in many ways—evoking happiness, loss, fear, excitement, or sadness. Hearing those voices within a track amplifies these emotions, especially when you don't quite understand why they're there.
What's the most important aspect of the musical experience for BOC?
Marcus: Reconstructing and recording what you imagine. That's the ultimate goal of composing—removing the middle ground and directly conveying to the listener what you first heard in your head. I believe that if there is a god, they communicate through music. I've studied musicians who tried to reach god through music, and their creations often made me feel the strangest. It was as if the music wasn't created by them. Listen to Brian Wilson's "God Only Knows". If there's a god to pray to, I think I'll give this a try as well."
2002 04 Remix No130 pg114.jpg

albumreviews


KICK THE CAN CREW

Vitalizer

Kick hasn't changed at all. They have masterfully created a new album as a direct extension of their previous work, Young King. Once again, they explore the endless cycle of self-questioning and the joy of nightclubbing, expressed through their lyrically rich rhymes. In my feature article, I wrote that this work is "a more boldly crafted piece than their previous one", but the more I listen, the more the feeling that nothing has changed overpowers me. Yet, despite my love for their last album, I can't wholeheartedly support this new one. Perhaps the reason lies in something like this: I was particularly drawn to Kick's "naive expression," which stood out as a clear contrast to the stereotypical "bad-boy expression" common in hip-hop circles. However, once they stepped out of the hip-hop scene and dove into the J-pop scene, they found that "naive expression" was far more prevalent—and even in demand—than "bad-boy expression". They were easily accepted, seamlessly blending into the J-pop world, and their "anti" stance became muddled in the process. That's where the "boldness" I mentioned stems from.


But for that very reason, this album will likely achieve significant success. There's no doubt that I'm in the minority. (Ryo Isobe)


BOARDS OF CANADA

Geogaddi

This is music that feels like watching a fire on the other side of the river. Boards of Canada keep a nonchalant face toward everything happening in this era, simply providing functional trip music. As symbolized by the reversed drums and repeated, worn-out voice samples, for them, a "trip" means indulging in nostalgia. And in this work, there's a clear track titled "1969", but the nostalgia it evokes is not optimistic; it's filled with a sense of foreboding. Despite offering a nostalgic trip, where Boards of Canada take us is back to 1969—the year of Woodstock—a year that foreshadows the disillusionment of love and peace. To warn us of this, they weave minor chords into their beautiful melodies, sinking them, and moments of collapse into their hypnotic drum loops. Yet, this is also music like the Pied Piper's. In this unsettling time, whether we're caught up in shallow frivolity or not, no matter what bad trip awaits on the other side, many will likely follow this mesmerizing melody and rhythm. Their second album in about three and a half years. An eerily well-timed release. (Ryo Isobe)


SHING02

400

Ever since I heard “400” live, I've been holding my breath, just waiting for this moment. I remember the painful, bitter shock I felt when I first heard “400” a cappella—it left me utterly motionless. The lyrics pierced straight into me. My clenched fist, shaking and tense, gradually relaxed into its usual state. And now, finally, Shing02's new work is complete.


One of Shing02's greatest talents is his exceptional lyricism. His words resonate deeply, as they seem to connect with the darker parts of modern life, creating a strange sense of empathy. I'm sure I'm not the only one who feels this way. These darker elements often come with a smirk, a kind of laugh that feels like it's hiding something. This nuance can be found in Shing02's work too—it's as if he's tickling the most sensitive spots, setting them aflame. In other words, the songs with lyrics we can empathize with are incredibly compelling.


Then, suddenly, it hits me—oh right, “400”, its lyrics are all in Japanese. For the younger generation who don't find anything real in Japanese rap, perhaps they'll connect with this. Why? Because Shing02's world is undeniably unique, yet also relatable—it works. If we're talking about realism, “Rhyme and Reason” hits 120%. (Tatsuya Kitagawa)



Ritmo e Dolore

title Ritmo e Dolore
author Otto Gordini
publication Rock Sound
date 2002/04
issue 48
pages 84-85
Ritmo e Dolore is an interview (in Italian) by Otto Gordini originally published Apr. 2002 in Rock Sound magazine Number 48, pp. 84-85.


This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.

Ritmo e Dolore

Dopo l'eccellente "Music has the right to children" del 1998, torna il duo scozzese con la sua elettronica dalle multiple sfaccettature. II nuovo lavoro si intitola "Geogaddi" e saprĂ  conquistare gli amanti di un certo tipo di sonoritĂ  malinconiche. I Boards Of Canada sono due personaggi schivi e discreti che preferiscono lasciar parlare la loro musica...


Boards Of Canada sembrano due persone alquanto misteriose, che vorrebbero essere altrove e non costrette a rispondere a domande riguardanti la loro musica. Pensate che non si sono nemmeno presentati al party di presentazione del loro disco, preferendo apparire soltanto in video. Come dire... il presenzialismo non piace a tutti:
Ci piace pensare che siano i nostri dischi a parlare per noi. Alla fine quello che deve rimanere Ú proprio la musica. Diventare delle star non Ú mai stato un nostro obiettivo. E francamente troviamo strano il fatto di essere un gruppo culto per parecchie persone. Abbiamo deliberatamente fornito sempre poche informazioni riguardanti noi stessi. Sono tutte cose che hanno poco a che fare con la musica. È questo il vero punto focale di un gruppo ma spesso sono altre cose a destare interesse. Non ci importa nemmeno di avere le nostre facce sulle riviste. Il vero problema Ú che non prevedevamo che questa nostra attitudine avrebbe generato l'effetto contrario e quindi incuriosito la gente.
ci spiega Mike. Eppure i Boards Of Canada vengono spesso etichettati come uno dei migliori gruppi di elettronica. Ma anche questo sembra quasi spaventare i due diretti interessati:
Non so se meritiamo un complimento del genere. Francamente a noi sembra quasi strano che ci siano delle persone che possano ascoltare e apprezzare la nostra musica. Quindi questo tipo di complimento ci stupisce un po'.
Qual Ăš la definizione ideale di "Geogaddi":
Lo vedo come una collezione di idee, il riflesso dello spirito con il quale abbiamo realizzato il disco. C'Ăš quasi un concept alla base di 'Geogaddi' che ruota attorno ai temi del lavaggio del cervello e della perdita della memoria.
La fase creativa sembra generare sensazioni contrastanti nei due musicisti:
È un processo quasi doloroso perché in ognuna delle nostre canzoni c'Ú veramente tanto lavoro. Molto del nostro tempo e quindi della nostra vita finisce nella nostra musica. Ma il fatto di creare qualcosa trasforma questa sofferenza in pura gioia e una volta finito un disco sentiamo in noi come una vera e propria liberazione. Abbiamo impiegato parecchio tempo per fare questo nuovo disco perché siamo sempre alla ricerca della perfezione. E per questo motivo non ci fissiamo mai delle vere scadenze da rispettare. Continuiamo a registrare materiale ma alla fine teniamo solo quello che ci soddisfa pienamente.
Mike e Marcus hanno sempre manifestato un particolare interesse per le sonoritĂ  degli anni '60 e '70:
Erano praticamente tutte analogiche e quindi sprigionavano un calore particolare. Ed Ăš proprio ciĂČ che manca a buona parte delle produzioni attuali. Oggi basta avere davvero un minimo di tecnologia per comporre della musica ma gli artisti che preferisco sono alla fine quelli che si ricordano che la musica elettronica non Ăš solo una sequenza di beat programmati con un computer. Spesso erano proprio le imperfezioni delle vecchie registrazioni a farne tutto il loro fascino.
E su questo credo proprio che parecchi di noi saranno d'accordo.

Note: translated with ChatGPT-4o


Rhythm and Pain

After the excellent Music Has the Right to Children from 1998, the Scottish duo returns with their multifaceted electronic music. The new work is titled Geogaddi and is sure to win over lovers of a certain type of melancholic sound. Boards Of Canada are two shy and discreet individuals who prefer to let their music do the talking...


Boards Of Canada seem to be quite mysterious people, who would rather be elsewhere than being forced to answer questions about their music. In fact, they didn't even attend the launch party for their album, preferring to appear only on video. As if to say... not everyone likes to be in the spotlight:

We like to think that it's our records that speak for us. In the end, it's the music that should remain. Becoming stars has never been our goal. And frankly, we find it strange to be a cult group for so many people. We've deliberately always provided little information about ourselves. These are all things that have little to do with the music. This is the real focal point of a group, but often other things arouse interest. We don't even care about having our faces in magazines. The real problem is that we didn't foresee that this attitude of ours would have the opposite effect and thus intrigue people
, explains Mike. Yet Boards Of Canada are often labeled as one of the best electronic groups. But this also seems to almost frighten the two main individuals:
I don't know if we deserve such a compliment. Frankly, it seems almost strange to us that there are people who can listen to and appreciate our music. So this kind of compliment surprises us a bit.
What is the ideal definition of Geogaddi:
I see it as a collection of ideas, the reflection of the spirit with which we made the album. There's almost a concept behind Geogaddi that revolves around themes of brainwashing and memory loss.

The creative phase seems to generate conflicting sensations in the two musicians:

It's an almost painful process because there's really so much work in each of our songs. A lot of our time and thus our lives end up in our music. But the fact of creating something turns this suffering into pure joy and once an album is finished, we feel a real liberation within us. We took quite a long time to make this new album because we are always in search of perfection. And for this reason, we never set real deadlines to meet. We keep recording material but in the end, we only keep what fully satisfies us.

Mike and Marcus have always shown a particular interest in the sounds of the '60s and '70s:

They were practically all analog and thus emitted a particular warmth. And that's exactly what's missing from most current productions. Today you just need really minimal technology to compose music, but the artists I prefer are those who remember that electronic music is not just a sequence of beats programmed with a computer. Often it was the imperfections of the old recordings that made them so charming.

And on this, I believe many of us will agree.



We're making music that has its own universe and time

title We're making music that has its own universe and time
author Ryota Kato/Jiro Dai
publication Snoozer
date 2002/04
issue 30
pages 40-45
We're making music that has its own universe and time was an interview (in Japanese) by Ryota Kato/Jiro Dai originally published April 2002 in Snoozer magazine Number 30 pp. 40-45.

This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.

Note: Transcription by Apple's Live Text on a MacBook Pro


2002 04 Snoozer No30 pg41.jpg


BOARDS


OF


CANADA

by RYOTA KATO / JIRO DAI


2002 04 Snoozer No30 pg42.jpg

BOARDS OF CANADA

Interview with MARCUS EOIN & MICHAEL SANDISON


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ăƒžă‚€ă‚±ăƒ«ăƒ»ă‚”ăƒłăƒ‡ă‚Łă‚œăƒłïŒˆä»„äž‹ă€ăƒžă‚€ă‚ŻïŒ‰ă€Œăăźé€šă‚Šă€‚ă™ ăčおたäșșăšăźé–ąäż‚ă‚’ç”¶ă€ă“ăšăŒćż…èŠăȘんだ。è‡Ș戆達がや ăŁăŠă„ă‚‹ă“ăšă«ćŻŸă—ăŠă€é ­ă‚’ă‚ŻăƒȘă‚ąă«ă•ă›ăŠăŠăă«ăŻă€ă うするしかăȘい。他たäșșé”ăŒć‘šă‚Šă«ă„ă‚‹ăšă€éŸłæ„œăŒæ‚Șい æ„ć‘łă§ćœ±éŸżă‚’ć—ă‘ăŠă—ăŸă†ă‚“ă ă€


●BOCăŒă€ă‚ąăƒŠăƒ­ă‚°ăƒ»ă‚·ăƒłă‚»ăźă‚”ă‚Šăƒłăƒ‰ă«æ‹˜ă‚‹ç†ç”±ăŻäœ• ăȘăźă§ă—ă‚‡ă†ă‹ïŒŸă‚Șă‚Šăƒ†ă‚«ăŒäœżă†ă‚ˆă†ăȘ、MAXMSPăȘ ă©ăźă‚œăƒ•ăƒˆă‚Šă‚§ă‚ąă«ă‚ˆă‚‹DSPă«ă€é–ąćżƒăŻă‚ă‚ŠăŸă™ă‹ïŒŸ

ăƒžăƒŒă‚«ă‚čăƒ»ă‚šă‚Șă‚€ăƒłïŒˆä»„äž‹ă€ăƒžăƒŒă‚«ă‚čïŒ‰ă€Œćƒ•ă‚‰ăŻă€ă‚ŻăƒȘăƒŒ ンで“ヱダンăȘâ€ă‚”ă‚Šăƒłăƒ‰ăźéŸłæ„œă‚’äœœă‚‹ă“ăšă«ăŻèˆˆć‘łăŒ ăȘい。èȘ°ă«ă§ă‚‚ć‡șæ„ă‚‹ă“ăšă ă‹ă‚‰ă€‚ä»Šæ—„ă§ăŻă€ă‚łăƒłăƒ”ăƒ„ ăƒŒă‚żă‚„ă‚œăƒ•ăƒˆă‚Šă‚§ă‚ąăŒéžćžžă«ăƒ‘ăƒŻăƒ•ăƒ«ă«ăȘったおかげで、 ă»ăšă‚“ă©äœ•ăźćŠȘ抛もăȘă—ă«ă€ăƒ—ăƒ­ăƒ•ă‚§ăƒƒă‚·ăƒ§ăƒŠăƒ«ă«èžă“ ăˆă‚‹éŸłă‚’äœœă‚Œă‚‹ă€‚ă‚ŻăƒȘăƒŒăƒłăȘăƒ‡ă‚žă‚żăƒ«ăƒ»ăƒŸăƒ„ăƒŒă‚žăƒƒă‚Żăźă‚” ă‚Šăƒłăƒ‰ăŻć«Œă„ăȘă‚“ă ă€‚ćźŒç’§ă™ăŽă‚‹ă—ă€ćŁćœ“ăŸă‚ŠăŒè‰Żă™ăŽ ă‚‹ă€‚ć€‹æ€§ăŒăȘă„ă‚“ă ă‚ˆă€‚ćƒ•ă‚‰ăŻă‚‚ăŁăšă€éŽćŽ»ăźă‚ă‚‹æ™‚ä»Ł たç‰čćŸŽăŒèžă“ăˆăŠăă‚‹éŸłæ„œă‚’äœœă‚ŠăŸă„äž€äŸ‹ăˆă°ă€80ćčŽ ä»ŁćˆæœŸăźăƒ†ăƒŹăƒ“éŸłæ„œăšă‹ă€‚ă ă‹ă‚‰ćƒ•ă‚‰ăŻă€ă‚ă–ă‚ă–è‡Ș戆 ă‹ă‚‰è©±ă‚’éąć€’ăă•ăă—ăŠă€ă‚”ă‚Šăƒłăƒ‰ăźâ€œă‚°ăƒŹăƒŒăƒ‰ă‚’èœăš ăšâ€ăŸă‚ă«é•·ă„æ™‚é–“ă‹ă‘ăŠäœœæ„­ă™ă‚‹ă‚“ă ă€


●ă‚Șă‚Šăƒ†ă‚«ăźă‚·ăƒ§ăƒŒăƒłăŒă€ă€ŒBOCăźéŸłæ„œăŻă„ă„ă‘ă©ă€ćƒ•ăŒ èŽăă«ăŻăƒŽă‚čă‚żăƒ«ă‚žăƒƒă‚Żă™ăŽă‚‹ăšă“ă‚ăŒă‚ă‚‹ă€ăšèš€ăŁăŠă„ ăŸă—ăŸă€‚ćƒ•ć€‹äșșは、それはă‚Șă‚Šăƒ†ă‚«ăšBOC䞥æ–čăźæ€§èłȘを ă‚ˆăèĄšă—ăŸă‚łăƒĄăƒłăƒˆă ăšæ€ă†ăźă§ă™ăŒă€ă‚ăȘăŸăŻă“ă‚Œă«ă© ă†ćżœăˆăŸă™ă‹ïŒŸ

ăƒžă‚€ă‚Żă€ŒćœŒă‚‰ăźéŸłæ„œăŻć€§ć„œăă ă€‚ćžžă«æ–°éźźă ă—ă€ćžžă«æ–° ă—ă„ă‚‚ăźăŒèŠ‹ă€ă‘ă‚‰ă‚Œă‚‹ă€‚ă§ă‚‚ćƒ•ă‚‰ăŻă€ćœŒă‚‰ăšăŻăŸăŁăŸă 異ăȘるバンドăȘă‚“ă ă€‚ćœŒă‚‰ăŻăƒ‘ă‚żăƒŒăƒłă«ć–ă‚Šæ†‘ă‹ă‚ŒăŠă„ă‚‹ ă‘ă‚Œă©ă€ćƒ•ă‚‰ăŻăƒĄăƒ­ăƒ‡ă‚Łăšăƒ†ă‚Żă‚čăƒăƒŁăƒŒă€éŸłăźæ‰‹è§Šă‚Šă« ć–ă‚Šæ†‘ă‹ă‚ŒăŠă„ă‚‹ă€


●あăȘăŸé”ă«ăšăŁăŠă€ă‚ąă‚·ăƒƒăƒ‰ăƒ»ăƒă‚Šă‚čやスクă‚čă‚żă‚·ăƒŒăź ă‚«ăƒ«ăƒăƒŁăƒŒăŻă©ăźă‚ˆă†ăȘäœ“éš“ă ăŁăŸăźă§ă—ă‚‡ă†ă‹ïŒŸçŸćœš ă§ă‚‚ă€ăă“ă‹ă‚‰ăźćœ±éŸżă‚’ć—ă‘ăŠă„ă‚‹ăšæ€ă„ăŸă™ă‹ïŒŸ

ăƒžăƒŒă‚«ă‚čă€Œćˆă‚ăŠă‚ąă‚·ăƒƒăƒ‰ăƒ»ăƒă‚Šă‚čăŒă‚„ăŁăŠæ„ăŸæ™‚ă«ă€ă” ăçŸ­ă„é–“ă€ć€ąäž­ă«ăȘăŁăŸă€‚ă ă‘ă©ć€§ăăȘćœ±éŸżă‚’ć—ă‘ăŠăŻ いăȘいね」


●BOCăźéŸłæ„œăŻćŸșæœŹçš„ă«ăƒĄăƒ­ăƒ‡ă‚Łăƒ»ă‚ȘăƒȘスンテッドだべ æ€ă„ăŸă™ă€‚ăăźèȘè­˜ăŒæ­Łă—ă„ăšă™ă‚Œă°ă€ă‚ăȘăŸé”ă«ăšăŁ ăŠăƒĄăƒ­ăƒ‡ă‚ŁăšăŻă€äž»ă«äœ•ă‚’èĄšă™ă‚‹ă‚‚ăźăȘăźă§ă—ă‚‡ă†ă‹ïŒŸ

ăƒžă‚€ă‚Żă€Œćƒ•ă«ăšăŁăŠă€ăƒĄăƒ­ăƒ‡ă‚ŁăŻă€äșșé–“ăźæ„Ÿæƒ…ă«ćŻŸă—ăŠ æ„”ç«Żă«ćŒ·ăäœœç”šă™ă‚‹ă€ă‚ă‚‹çšźăźèš€èȘžăȘă‚“ă ă€‚ç”¶ćŻŸă«èš€è‘‰ にはć‡ș杄ăȘă„ă“ăšăŒă‚‰ă‚’ă€èĄšçŸă™ă‚‹ă“ăšăźć‡șæ„ă‚‹èš€èȘžă€‚ど んăȘăƒăƒƒă‚Żă‚°ăƒ©ă‚Šăƒłăƒ‰ă‚’æŒă€ă©ă‚“ăȘäșșă«ă‚‚ă€ăăźèš€èȘžăŻ ç†è§Łć‡șæ„ă‚‹ă‚“ă ă€


●では、BOCăźéŸłæ„œă«ăŠă„ăŠă€â€œăƒ“ăƒŒăƒˆâ€ăšăŻäœ•ă‚’èĄšçŸă€ă‚ă‚‹ă„ăŻä»ŁèĄšă—ăŠă„ă‚‹ăšèš€ăˆăŸă™ă‹ïŒŸ

ăƒžă‚€ă‚Żă€Œć„èȘ­ç‚č」


●“musicismathïŒˆéŸłæ„œăŻæ•°ć­Šă ïŒ‰â€ăšă„ă†æ›Č損は、あăȘăŸé”ăźéŸłæ„œă«ćŻŸă™ă‚‹æ…‹ćșŠèĄšæ˜Žăźäž€ă€ăȘăźă§ă—ă‚‡ă†ă‹ïŒŸăă‚Œăšă‚‚ă‚ąă‚€ăƒ­ăƒ‹ăƒŒăȘăźă§ă—ă‚‡ă†ă‹ïŒŸ

ăƒžăƒŒă‚«ă‚č「価æ–čă ăšæ€ă†ă€‚ăšă„ă†ăźă‚‚ă€çŹŹäž€ă«ćƒ•ă‚‰ăŻăƒ ăƒŒăƒˆă‹ă‚‰ăƒĄăƒ­ăƒ‡ă‚Łă‚’ç”Ÿăżć‡șă™ă“ăšă«é–ąćżƒăŒă‚ă‚‹ă‘ă‚Œă©ă€ćŒ æ™‚ă«ă€ăă‚Œă‚’èŁä»˜ă‘ă‚‹ă‚”ă‚€ă‚šăƒłă‚čïŒˆç§‘ć­Šă€çŸ„è­˜äœ“çł»ïŒ‰ă« も魅せられどいるから」


â—ă‚”ă‚€ă‚±ăƒ‡ăƒȘăƒƒă‚Żăƒ»ă‚«ăƒ«ăƒăƒŁăƒŒăŻă€äșșçšźă‚„ă‚»ă‚Żă‚·ăƒ„ă‚ąăƒȘ ăƒ†ă‚Łă€éšŽçŽšă‚„ä»°ăšă„ăŁăŸă€æ§˜ă€…ăȘバăƒȘケをçȘăćŽ©ă—お ă„ăă‚‚ăźă ăŁăŸă‚ˆă†ă«æ€ă„ăŸă™ă€‚BOCăšă€ă‚”ă‚€ă‚±ăƒ‡ăƒȘッ ă‚Żăƒ»ă‚«ăƒ«ăƒăƒŁăƒŒăšăźé–ąäż‚ăŻă€ă©ăźă‚ˆă†ăȘもぼăȘぼでしょ ă†ă‹ïŒŸ

ăƒžă‚€ă‚Żă€Œćƒ•ă‚‰ă«ăă‚ŒăŻćœ“ăŠăŻăŸă‚‰ăȘă„ăšæ€ă†ă€‚ă‚”ă‚€ă‚±ăƒ‡ăƒȘ ăƒƒă‚Żăƒ»ă‚«ăƒ«ăƒăƒŁăƒŒăšèš€ă†ăšă€ćƒ•ăŻăƒ’ăƒƒăƒ”ăƒŒăƒ»ă‚«ăƒ«ăƒăƒŁăƒŒă‚„ ăƒ‹ăƒ„ăƒŒă‚šă‚€ă‚žăƒ»ă‚«ăƒ«ăƒăƒŁăƒŒăźă“ăšă ăšæ€ăŁăŠă„ă‚‹ă‚“ă ă‘ ă©ă€ăă‚ŒăŻćƒ•ă‚‰ăšăŻăŸăŁăŸăă‹ă‘é›ąă‚ŒăŠă„ă‚‹ă‹ă‚‰ă­ă€‚æ˜Žă‚‰ ă‹ă«ćƒ•ă‚‰ăŻăƒ©ăƒŽïŒ†ăƒ”ăƒŒă‚čçš„ă§ăŻă‚ă‚‹ă‘ă‚Œă©ă€ăƒ‹ăƒ„ăƒŒă‚šă‚€ ă‚žăƒ»ă‚«ăƒ«ăƒăƒŁăƒŒă«ăŻă‚ąă‚€ăƒ‡ăƒłăƒ†ă‚Łăƒ•ă‚Ąă‚€ă—ăŠăȘいんだ。惕 ă‚‰ăŒă‚”ă‚€ă‚±ăƒ‡ăƒȘă‚ąă«èˆˆć‘łă‚’æŒăŁăŠă„ă‚‹ăźăŻă€çŽ”çČ‹ă«ă€ă ăźç”Ÿç‰©ć­Šçš„ăȘăƒ—ăƒ­ă‚»ă‚čべ、そこから生みć‡șă•ă‚Œă‚‹ă‚ąăƒŒăƒˆă€ ăšă„ă†èŠłç‚čă«ăŠă„ăŠă ă­ă€


â—ăƒăƒƒăƒ—ăƒ»ăƒŸăƒ„ăƒŒă‚žăƒƒă‚ŻăŻă€ă‚ȘăƒŒăƒ‡ă‚Łă‚šăƒłă‚čにある皟た慱 ćŒäœ“çš„ăȘæ„ŸèŠšă‚’äžŽăˆă‚‹ă‚‚ăźăšă—ăŠèȘ•ç”Ÿă—ăŸă—ăŸă€‚60ćčŽä»Ł ăźă‚”ă‚€ă‚±ăƒ‡ăƒȘăƒƒă‚Żăƒ»ă‚«ăƒ«ăƒăƒŁăƒŒăŻç€ŸäŒšăźć€–éƒšă«ă‚ă‚‹æ–°ăŸ ăȘć…±ćŒäœ“ă‚’ćż—ć‘ă—ăŸă—ăŸă—ă€ăƒ€ăƒłă‚čăƒ»ăƒŸăƒ„ăƒŒă‚žăƒƒă‚Żăźă‹ ă‹ă‚‹ă‚Żăƒ©ăƒ–ă«ăŻäž€æ™©é™ă‚Šăźć…±ćŒäœ“ăŒç”ŸăŸă‚Œă‚‹ă‚ˆă†ăȘべこ ă‚ăŒă‚ă‚‹ăšæ€ă„ăŸă™ă€‚ă§ăŻă€BOCăźéŸłæ„œăŻă€ă‚łăƒŸăƒ„ăƒŒăƒŠ ルăȘæ€§æ Œă‚’ïŒˆéƒšćˆ†çš„ă«ă§ă‚‚ïŒ‰æŒăŁăŠă„ă‚‹ăšæ€ă„ăŸă™ă‹ïŒŸ

ăƒžăƒŒă‚«ă‚č「わからăȘă„ă‘ă©ăŠăă‚‰ăă€ă‚ă‚‹ç‰čćźšăźă‚żă‚€ăƒ— たäșșăŒăă†ă„ă†ă‚‚ăźă«ă‚ąă‚€ăƒ‡ăƒłăƒ†ă‚Łăƒ•ă‚Ąă‚€ă—ăŠă„ă‚‹ă‚“ă ă‚ うăȘă€‚ćƒ•ă‚‰ăŒäž–ç•Œă«ă€ă„ăŠæ€è€ƒă™ă‚‹ăźăšćŒă˜è€ƒăˆæ–čをす るäșșăŸăĄăŒă€äž–ăźäž­ă«ăŻć€§ć‹ąă„ă‚‹ăƒŒăƒŒăă—ăŠćœŒă‚‰ăŻă€ćƒ• らぼようăȘéŸłæ„œăžăźé–ąćżƒă‚’ć…±æœ‰ă™ă‚‹ă“ăšă«ă‚ˆăŁăŠă€é›†ăŸ ăŁăŠăă‚‹ăƒŒăƒŒăă†ćƒ•ăŻæ€ă„ăŸă„ă­ă€


●1969”べいうæ›Čă‚żă‚€ăƒˆăƒ«ăŒă‚ă‚ŠăŸă™ăŒă€ă“ăźćčŽć·ăŻă€ あăȘた達äșŒäșșăźç”ŸăŸă‚ŒăŸćčŽă‚’èĄšă—ăŠă„ă‚‹ăźă§ă—ă‚‡ă†ă‹ïŒŸ ăă‚Œăšă‚‚ă€æ­ŽćČçš„ăƒ»æ–‡ćŒ–çš„ăȘäș‹ćźŸăžăźèš€ćŠă ăŁăŸă‚Šă™ă‚‹ ăźă§ă—ă‚‡ă†ă‹ïŒŸ

ăƒžă‚€ă‚Żă€Œćƒ•ă‚‰ăŻăŸă ăăźćčŽă«ăŻç”ŸăŸă‚ŒăŠăȘかったよ。ある ケメăƒȘă‚«ăźćź—æ•™ă‚°ăƒ«ăƒŒăƒ—ăźæ­ŽćČにおける、ç‰č戄ăȘćčŽć·ăź ă“ăšă‚’æŒ‡ă—ăŠă‚‹ă‚“ă ă€


●侊ぼæ›Čでは、「inthesunshineă€ăšă„ă†ćŁ°ă‚’èžăć–ă‚‹ă“ べがć‡șæ„ăŸă™ă€‚ă“ăźèš€è‘‰ăŻäœ•ă‚’æ„ć‘łă—ăŠă„ă‚‹ăźă‹ă€æ•™ăˆ

どもらうこべはć‡șæ„ăŸă™ă‹ïŒŸ

ăƒžă‚€ă‚Żă€Œăăźćź—æ•™ă‚°ăƒ«ăƒŒăƒ—ăŒăăźćœ“æ™‚ă«æ„Ÿă˜ăŠă„ăŸă€ćžŒ æœ›ăšçąșăźăƒ•ă‚ŁăƒŒăƒȘăƒłă‚°ă‚’ă€ćæ˜ ă•ă›ăŸă‹ăŁăŸă‚“ă ă€


â—ä»„ć‰ă«ă‚‚â€œsixtyniner”べいうæ›ČăŒă‚ă‚ŠăŸă—ăŸăŒă€BOC ă«ăšăŁăŠă€Œ1969」べいうぼは、ç‰č戄ăȘæ„Ÿæ…šă‚’ă‚‚ăŁăŠæŒŻă‚Š èż”ă‚‹ćčŽă ăŁăŸă‚Šă™ă‚‹ăźă§ă—ă‚‡ă†ă‹ïŒŸ


2002 04 Snoozer No30 pg43.jpg


70ćčŽä»Łăšă„ă†ăźăŻă€ă‚ă‚‹æ„ć‘łă§ă€äž€ă€ăźé»„é‡‘æ™‚ä»Łăźç”‚ç„‰ă ăšæ€ăˆă‚‹ă‚“ă ă€‚ăă‚ŒăŻă€ ćˆ©ć·±äž»çŸ©ăšç‰©èłȘäž»çŸ©ăŒè”“ć»¶ă™ă‚‹ă€æ–°ă—ă„æ™‚ä»Łăźć§‹ăŸă‚Šă ăŁăŸă€‚90ćčŽä»Łæœ«ăźäșŒćșŠç›źăź ォッドă‚čăƒˆăƒƒă‚Żăƒ»ăƒ•ă‚§ă‚čăƒ†ă‚ŁăƒŽă‚Ąăƒ«ăŒă€ă©ă‚Œă»ă©ć€±æœ›ă•ă›ă‚‰ă‚Œă‚‹ă‚‚ăźă ăŁăŸă‹ă€‚ ăă†ă€ă€ăŸă‚Šă€ćƒ•ă‚‰ăźă‚žă‚§ăƒăƒŹăƒŒă‚·ăƒ§ăƒłăšă„ă†ăźăŻă€ăšăŁăšă‚čăƒă‚€ăƒ«ă•ă‚ŒăŠăăŸă‚“ă 


ăƒžăƒŒă‚«ă‚čă€Œă‚ăźă‚żă‚€ăƒˆăƒ«ăŻăƒ€ăƒ–ăƒ«ăƒ»ăƒŸăƒŒăƒ‹ăƒłă‚°ă§ă€äșŒé‡ ăźæ„ć‘łăŒă‚ă‚‹ă‚“ă ăƒ»ăƒ»ăƒ»ăƒ»ăƒ»ć°‘ăȘăăšă‚‚è‹±èȘžă§ăŻă­ă€‚ă€ăŸă‚Šă€ă‚ ăźăƒˆăƒ©ăƒƒă‚Żăźć…ƒă«ăȘったぼは、1969ćčŽă«ç”Œéš“ă—ăŸè‡Ș戆ぼ æœ€ćˆăźæ€§äœ“éš“ă‚’ă€ă‚ă‚‹ç”·ăŒæć†™ă—ăŸăƒ†ăƒŒăƒ—ăȘんだよ」


●翌ćčŽăź1970ćčŽă€ăƒŻă‚€ăƒˆćł¶ă§ăźăƒ•ă‚§ă‚čăƒ†ă‚ŁăƒŽă‚Ąăƒ«ăŒæ­ŽćČ 的ăȘć€±æ•—ă«ç”‚ă‚ă‚‹ă‚ˆă†ă«ă€ăăźé ƒăŻă€Œăƒ’ăƒƒăƒ”ăƒŒăƒ»ă‚«ăƒ«ăƒ ăƒŁăƒŒăźç”‚ç„‰ăźć­ŁçŻ€ă€ăšă—ăŠèš˜æ†¶ă•ă‚ŒăŠă„ăŸă™ă€‚ăă“ă«äœ• らかぼ怋äșș的ăȘèš˜æ†¶ă‚’é‡ă­ăŠă„ă‚‹ăšă“ă‚ăŻă‚ă‚ŠăŸă™ă‹ïŒŸ ăƒžăƒŒă‚«ă‚č「ç‰čに怋äșș的ăȘèš˜æ†¶ăŒă‚ă‚‹ă‚ă‘ă˜ă‚ƒăȘいよ。 1970ćčŽă«ăŻćƒ•ăŻăŸă äž€ćŒčたçČŸć­ă ăŁăŸă—ă€‚ă§ă‚‚çąșă‹ă«ćƒ• ă‚‰ăŻă€ă‚ăźæ™‚ä»Łăźă‚«ăƒ«ăƒăƒŁăƒŒă«ć…„ă‚ŒèŸŒă‚“ă§ă„ă‚‹ă€‚70ćčŽä»Ł ăšă„ă†ăźăŻă€ă‚ă‚‹æ„ć‘łă§ă€äž€ă€ăźé»„é‡‘æ™‚ä»Łăźç”‚ç„‰ă ăšæ€ ăˆă‚‹ă‚“ă ă€ćźŸéš›ă€‚ăă‚ŒăŻă€ćˆ©ć·±äž»çŸ©ăšç‰©èłȘäž»çŸ©ăŒè”“ć»¶ă™ ă‚‹ă€æ–°ă—ă„æ™‚ä»Łăźć§‹ăŸă‚Šă ăŁăŸă€‚90ćčŽä»Łæœ«ăźäșŒćșŠç›źăźă‚Š ッドă‚čăƒˆăƒƒă‚Żăƒ»ăƒ•ă‚§ă‚čăƒ†ă‚ŁăƒŽă‚Ąăƒ«ăŒă€ă©ă‚Œă»ă©ć€±æœ›ă•ă› ă‚‰ă‚Œă‚‹ă‚‚ăźă ăŁăŸă‹ă€è€ƒăˆăŠăżă‚‹ă ă‘ă§ă‚‚ă‚ă‹ă‚‹ă ă‚ă€‚ă‚ ăźæ™‚ă‚­ăƒƒă‚șăŸăĄăŻă€äŒšć Žă‚’ă‚ăĄă‚ƒăăĄă‚ƒă«ă—ă€è»Šă‚’ç‡ƒă‚„ ă—ă€ăƒŹă‚€ăƒ—ăŸă§çŠŻă—ăŸă€‚ăă†ă€ă€ăŸă‚Šă€ćƒ•ă‚‰ăźă‚žă‚§ăƒăƒŹăƒŒ ă‚·ăƒ§ăƒłăšă„ă†ăźăŻă€ăšăŁăšă‚čăƒă‚€ăƒ«ă•ă‚ŒăŠăăŸă‚“ă ă€


●漉目ăȘćŻŸæŻ”ă§ă™ăŒă€BOCăźéŸłæ„œăŻă€é™œć…‰ăźäž‹ăšă€ć€œăź é—‡ăšă§ăŻă€ă©ăĄă‚‰ăŒäŒŒćˆă†ăšæ€ă„ăŸă™ă‹ïŒŸăŸăŸă€ć€ăšć†Ź ăšă§ăŻă€ă©ă†ă§ă—ă‚‡ă†ă‹ïŒŸ ăƒžăƒŒă‚«ă‚čă€ŒçœŸć†Źăźă€æ˜Žă‚‹ă„é™œć…‰ăźäž­ă€


â—ă“ă‚ŒăŸă§BOCăźă‚ąăƒŒăƒˆăƒŻăƒŒă‚ŻăŻă€ăƒ–ăƒ«ăƒŒă‚’äž­ćżƒăšă™ă‚‹ 毒è‰Čçł»ă§ă—ăŸă€‚ăšă“ă‚ăŒæ–°äœœă§ăŻă€ć€§èƒ†ă«è”€ă‚„é»„è‰Čべい ăŁăŸæš–è‰Čă‚’ăƒ•ă‚ŁăƒŒăƒăƒ„ă‚ąă—ăŠă„ăŸă™ă€‚ă“ă“ă«ăŻă€äœ•ă‚‰ă‹ ăźæ„ć‘łăŒèŸŒă‚ă‚‰ă‚ŒăŠă„ăŸă™ă‹ïŒŸ ăƒžă‚€ă‚Żă€Œă“ăźă‚ąăƒŒăƒˆăƒŻăƒŒă‚ŻăŻă€ç«ăšă€ćź—æ•™çš„ăȘă‚€ă‚łăƒŽă‚° ăƒ©ăƒ•ă‚ŁăƒŒïŒˆć›łćƒïŒ‰ăšăźă‚łăƒłăƒ“ăƒăƒŒă‚·ăƒ§ăƒłă‚’ă€èĄšă—ăŸă‹ăŁ ăŸă€‚äž‡èŻéĄăźæ˜ ćƒă«ăŠă‘ă‚‹ćčŸäœ•ć­Šçš„ăƒă‚żăƒŒăƒłăšă„ă†ăźăŻă€ ćź—æ•™ç”»ă«ă‚ˆăèŠ‹ă‚‰ă‚Œă‚‹ćźŒç’§ăȘă‚·ăƒłăƒĄăƒˆăƒȘăƒŒïŒˆćŻŸç§°æ€§ïŒ‰ă« äŒŒăŠă„ă‚‹ă‚“ă ă‚ˆă€‚ăă—ăŠă™ăčăŠăŒă€è”€ăç‡ƒăˆă•ă‹ă‚‹ć€ăźć„€ ćŒă€ăšă„ă†äž€ă€ăźă‚€ăƒĄăƒŒă‚žă«ç”±ćˆă•ă‚ŒăŠă„ă‚‹ă‚“ă ă€


●BOCăźéŸłæ„œă‚’ă€è‡Șćˆ†ă§ăŻă©ăźă‚ˆă†ăȘă‚·ăƒăƒ„ă‚šăƒŒă‚·ăƒ§ăƒł ă§èŽăăŸă™ă‹ïŒŸ

ăƒžăƒŒă‚«ă‚č「惕らはè‡Șćˆ†é”ăźéŸłæ„œă‚’ă€ă„ă€ă‚‚èŽă„ăŠă„ă‚‹ă‚ˆă€‚ ăƒȘăƒȘăƒŒă‚čされたこべぼăȘいæ›ČăŒć·šć€§ăȘă‚ąăƒŒă‚«ă‚€ăƒŽă«ăȘっ ăŠă„ăŠă€ăă‚Œă‚’èŽăç›Žă™ăźăŒć€§ć„œăăȘんだ。惕è‡Șèș«ăŒèŽ いどいど侀ç•Șæ„œă—ă‚ă‚‹ăźăŻă€ćźŒç’§ă«ç‹Źă‚ŠăŁăă‚Šăźæ™‚ă ăš æ€ă†ă€‚é‡Žć€–ă«ć‡șăŠă„ă‚‹æ™‚ăšă‹ă€è»Šă‚’è”°ă‚‰ă›ăŠă„ă‚‹æ™‚ăšă‹ă€‚ è‡Șćˆ†ăźă‚€ăƒžă‚žăƒăƒŒă‚·ăƒ§ăƒłă‚’è‡Ș由にćșƒă’ă‚‰ă‚Œă‚‹ă‚“ă ă€


●あăȘăŸé”ăźæ„œæ›Čă‚żă‚€ăƒˆăƒ«ăŻă„ă€ă‚‚ç„žç§˜çš„ăȘもぼです。そ ă“ă«ă€äœ•ă‚‰ă‹ăźă‚±ăƒ«ăƒˆæ–‡ćŒ–ă‹ă‚‰ăźéŸżă‚’èŠ‹ăŠć–ă‚‹ă“ăšăŻ ćŻèƒœă§ă™ă‹ïŒŸ

ăƒžăƒŒă‚«ă‚čă€Œă‚±ăƒ«ăƒˆăźćœ±éŸżă‚’ć—ă‘ăŸă‚‚ăźă‚’æ„è­˜çš„ă«äœœăŁăŸ ă“ăšăŻă€ă“ă‚ŒăŸă§ăźăšă“ă‚ăŻăȘă„ăšæ€ă†ă‚“ă ă‘ă©ă€ćźŸéš›ă€ 䌝由的ăȘă‚čă‚łăƒƒăƒˆăƒ©ăƒłăƒ‰éŸłæ„œăźäž­ă«ăŻć„œăăȘもぼもある ね。ç‰čă«ă€ă‚ąă‚«ăƒšăƒ©ăźă‚ČăƒŒăƒ«èȘžăźæ­Œă€‚ăŸă‚‹ă§é€†ć›žè»ąă«ă— ăŸéŸłæ„œăżăŸă„ă«ă€æœŹćœ“ă«ć„‡ćŠ™ă«éŸżăă‚“ă ă€‚ă©ă“ă‹è¶…è‡Ș然 的ăȘćŠčæžœă‚’ă‚‚ăŸă‚‰ă™ă‚“ă ă‚ˆă€


â—ä»„ć‰ă€ăƒąă‚°ăƒŻă‚€ăźă‚čăƒăƒ„ă‚ąăƒŒăƒˆă«ă‚€ăƒłă‚żăƒŽăƒ„ăƒŒă—ăŸæ™‚ă€ 「ă‚čă‚łăƒ†ă‚Łăƒƒă‚·ăƒ„ă‚„ă‚Šă‚§ăƒ«ă‚·ăƒ„ăźæ–‡ćŒ–ăŻă™ă”ăăƒă‚žăƒ†ă‚ŁăƒŽ だけど、æœȘだにどこかèČ ă‘çŠŹïŒˆă‚ąăƒłăƒ€ăƒŒăƒ‰ăƒƒă‚°ïŒ‰ăŁăŠă„ă† æ„ŸèŠšăŒä»˜ăăŸăšăŁăŠă‚‹ă€ăšèȘžăŁăŠă„ăŸă‚“ă§ă™ăŒă€ćœŒăźèš€ è‘‰ă«ćŒæ„ă™ă‚‹ăšă“ă‚ăŻă‚ă‚ŠăŸă™ă‹ïŒŸ

ăƒžă‚€ă‚Żă€Œăăźé€šă‚Šă ă­ă€‚ćƒ•ăŻă‚čă‚łăƒƒăƒˆăƒ©ăƒłăƒ‰äșșに぀いおし ă‹è©±ă›ăȘいけど、ă‚čă‚łăƒƒăƒˆăƒ©ăƒłăƒ‰ć…„ăŁăŠă„ă†ăźăŻă€ć€–ăźäž– ç•Œă«ć‡șăŠă„ăŁăŠă€ăĄă‚‡ăŁăšă§ă‚‚äžŠæ˜‡ă—ăŠă‚„ă‚ă†ă€ăŁăŠă„ う才搑きăȘćż—ć‘ăŒć…šç„¶ăȘいんだよ。すごくフレンドăƒȘăƒŒ ă§ă€çŸ„çš„ă§ă€èŠȘしみやすい連侭であるっどいうぼはäș‹ćźŸ ăȘăźă«ă€ă‚‚ăŁăšè‰ŻăăȘろうっどおäș’ă„ă«ćŠ±ăŸă—ă‚ă†ă“ăšă• えしăȘă„ă€‚ć§‹ăŸăŁăŠă‚‚ă„ăȘいうちからèȠけちゃっどるよう ăȘă€æ•—ćŒ—äž»çŸ©çš„ă‚ąăƒ†ă‚Łăƒ†ăƒ„ăƒŒăƒ‰ăŒă‚ă‚‹ă‚“ă ă€‚ć€šćˆ†ă€äž€èˆŹ çš„ă«èŠ‹ăŠă€ć‘šć›Čăźć›œă«æŻ”ăčどかăȘりèČ§ă—ă„ć›œă ă‹ă‚‰ă ăš æ€ă†ă€‚æ­ŽćČăźæœ€ćˆă‹ă‚‰æœ€ćŸŒăŸă§ă€ă‚€ăƒłă‚°ăƒ©ăƒłăƒ‰äșșă«ćˆ©ç”š ă•ă‚Œç¶šă‘ăŸăŠă‹ă’ă§ă€ăšăŁăšèČ§ă—ă„ăŸăŸăźć›œă ă‹ă‚‰ă­ă€


●BOCăźäœœć“ă«ăŻă€ćŁ°â€ă«ă‚ˆăŁăŠă€ă“ăŁăă‚ŠăšăƒĄăƒƒă‚»ăƒŒ ă‚žă‚’ćżă°ă›ăŠăŠăă€ăšă„ă†æ‰‹æł•ă‚’æ„Ÿă˜ă‚‹ă“ăšăŒă‚ă‚ŠăŸă™ă€‚ 漟際、そぼようăȘă‚ąăƒłă‚°ăƒ«ăŻă‚ă‚‹ăźă§ă—ă‚‡ă†ă‹ïŒŸ ăƒžăƒŒă‚«ă‚čă€Œă‚‚ăĄă‚ă‚“ă€‚ćƒ•ă‚‰ăŻă€éŸłæ„œăźäž­ă«ă„ă‚ă‚“ăȘもぼ ă‚’éš ă—ăŠăŠăă‚“ă ă€‚ć›ăŸăĄă«ç™șèŠ‹ă—ăŠă‚‚ă‚‰ă†ăŸă‚ă«ă­ă€


â—ă‚±ăƒ«ăƒˆăźæ­ŽćČăźć€šăăŻă€æ‚ČćŠ‡ăźæ­ŽćČă ăšèš€ă‚ă‚ŒăŸă™ă€‚ćœŒ ă‚‰ăźć€šăăŻæ–‡ć­—ă‚’æŒăŸăȘかった。あăȘăŸé”ăŻă€ăăźćœŒă‚‰ ăźæ­ŽćČをèȘžă‚Šç¶™ă”ă†ăšă—ăŠă„ă‚‹ăƒŒăƒŒăă‚“ăȘæ„è­˜ăŻă‚ă‚ŠăŸ ă™ă‹ïŒŸ ăƒžăƒŒă‚«ă‚čă€Œă‚ąăƒŒăƒ†ă‚Łă‚čティックăȘæ„ć‘łă§ăŻă€è‡Șćˆ†é”ăŒă‚± ăƒ«ăƒˆçš„ă§ă‚ă‚‹ăšăŻăŸăŁăŸăæ€ăŁăŠăȘă„ă‚“ă ă€‚ćƒ•ă‚‰ăŻă€ă‚‚ă€ ăšăšăŁăšé ăé›ąă‚ŒăŸăšă“ă‚ă‹ă‚‰ăźćœ±éŸżă‚’ć—ă‘ăŠă„ă‚‹ă€‚ă§ も、ă‚čă‚łăƒƒăƒˆăƒ©ăƒłăƒ‰äșșであるこずに぀いおは、çąșă‹ă«ă„ă らかぼèȘ‡ă‚Šă‚’æŒăŁăŠă„ă‚‹ă‚ˆă€‚ă‚±ăƒ«ăƒˆăźäŒç”±ă‚„èš€èȘžăšă„っ ăŸă‚‚ăźăźç¶™æ‰żă‚’æ”ŻæŒă—ăŠă„ă‚‹ă—ă€ă‚čă‚łăƒƒăƒˆăƒ©ăƒłăƒ‰ăźæ”żæČ» ć­Šă«ăŻé–ąćżƒăŒă‚ă‚‹ă­ă€


●レディă‚Șăƒ˜ăƒƒăƒ‰ăźă€Œă‚ąăƒ ăƒ‹ăƒŒă‚žă‚ąăƒƒă‚Żă€ă«ä»ŁèĄšă•ă‚Œă‚‹ ă‚ˆă†ă«ă€çŸä»Łæ–‡æ˜ŽăžăźèƒŒćçš„æ„è­˜ă«é§†ă‚‰ă‚ŒăŸă‚ąăƒŒăƒ†ă‚Łă‚č ăƒˆăźäž­ă«ăŻă€ăăźă‚«ă‚Šăƒłă‚żăƒŒçš„èŠçŽ ăšă—ăŠă€ć€ä»Łæ–‡æ˜Žăź ćŒ•ç”šă‚’ć–ă‚Šć…„ă‚Œă‚‹ă“ăšăŒă‚ă‚ŠăŸă™ă€‚BOCă«ă‚‚ă€ăăźă‚ˆă† ăȘăƒ‹ăƒ„ă‚ąăƒłă‚čăŻă‚ă‚ŠăŸă™ă‹ïŒŸ

ăƒžă‚€ă‚Żă€Œè‡Șă‚‰ăźæ–‡ćŒ–ă‚’ă€éŽćŽ»ăšæŻ”èŒƒă›ăšă«ćˆ†æžă™ă‚‹ăźăŻă€ äžćŻèƒœă ăšæ€ă†ă‚“ă ă€‚äŸ‹ăˆă°ă“ăź2002ćčŽă‚’ă€çŹŹäž€æŹĄć€§æˆŠ や第äșŒæŹĄć€§æˆŠăźæ™‚ä»ŁăšæŻ”èŒƒă™ă‚‹ăšă€ćƒ•ă‚‰ăŻć€§ăăȘćčłć’Œăź æ™‚ä»Łă«ç”ŸăăŠă„ă‚‹ă€ăšèš€ă†ă“ăšă‚‚ć‡șæ„ă‚‹ă€‚ă ă‘ă©ă€ăƒ‰ăƒ« ă‚€ăƒ‰ăŸăĄă‚„èŸČć€«ăŸăĄăŒæšźă‚‰ă—ăŠă„ăŸć€ä»ŁăšæŻ”èŒƒă™ă‚Œă°ă€ æˆ‘ă€…ăŻé‡Žè›źăȘæ™‚ä»Łă«æšźă‚‰ă—ăŠă„ă‚‹ă‚ˆă†ă«èŠ‹ăˆă‚‹ă€‚ć…šèˆŹçš„ ă«èŠ‹ăŠă€ćƒ•ă‚‰ăŻă‚ąăƒŒăƒ†ă‚Łă‚čăƒˆăšă—ăŠă€ă“ăźä»Šæ—„ăźäž–ç•Œă‚’ă€ ăŸăă•ă‚“ăźćŻèƒœæ€§ă«æș€ăĄăŸäž–ç•Œă ăšè€ƒăˆăŠă„ă‚‹ă‘ă‚Œă©ă€ă§ ă‚‚ćŒæ™‚ă«ă€è†šć€§ăȘæ•°ăźæă‚ă—ă„è„…ćšă«æș€ăĄăŸæ™‚代だずも æ€ăŁăŠă„ă‚‹ă€‚ćƒ•ă‚‰è‡Șèș«ăŻă™ă”ăăƒă‚žăƒ†ă‚ŁăƒŽăȘäșș間だけど、 ćƒ•ă‚‰ăźă‚žă‚§ăƒăƒŹăƒŒă‚·ăƒ§ăƒłăŒă“ăźć·šć€§ăȘăƒ‘ăƒ©ăƒŽă‚€ă‚ąăźæ™‚ä»Ł ă«ă„ă‹ă«ă—ăŠç”ŸăŸă‚ŒăŠăăŸăźă‹ăƒŒăƒŒăă—ăŠćƒ•ă‚‰ăŻăăźă“ ăšă‚’ă€æ˜ ç”»ă‚„æœŹă‚„éŸłæ„œăšă„ăŁăŸè‡Șćˆ†é”ăźæ–‡ćŒ–ăźç”Łç‰©ă«ă€ă© ăźă‚ˆă†ă«ćæ˜ ă•ă›ăŠă„ă‚‹ăźă‹ăƒŒăƒŒăŁăŠă„ă†ă“ăšă«èˆˆć‘łă‚’ æŒăŁăŠă„ă‚‹ă‚“ă ă€


â—ă‚±ăƒ«ăƒˆă‚„ăƒă‚€ăƒ†ă‚ŁăƒŽăƒ»ă‚ąăƒĄăƒȘă‚«ăƒłă‚’ć§‹ă‚ă€ć€šăăźć€ä»Ł äșșăźæ–‡ćŒ–ăźæŒă€ă€ă€Œè‡Ș然はèȘ°ăźæ‰€æœ‰ç‰©ă§ă‚‚ăȘă„ă€ăšă„ă†æ€ æƒłă«ć…±æ„Ÿă™ă‚‹ăšă“ă‚ăŻă‚ă‚ŠăŸă™ă‹ïŒŸ

ăƒžăƒŒă‚«ă‚čă€Œă‚€ă‚šă‚č。こぼè‡Șç„¶ăšç’°ćąƒăŻă€ć›ă‚„ćƒ•ă‚ˆă‚Šă‚‚ă€ă しどいかăȘă‚‹æ”żćșœă‚„ć›œă‚„ă‚žă‚§ăƒăƒŹăƒŒă‚·ăƒ§ăƒłă‚ˆă‚Šă‚‚ă€é•·ă 歘朹しどきどいるんだ。そしどこれからもずっべ歘朹し どいくăčăă ă‘ă‚Œă©ă€ăăźăŸă‚ă«ăŻæ•Źæ„ă‚’æŒăŁăŠæŽ„ă—ăȘ きゃ無理だね」


â—ă§ăŻă€ăƒ‰ăƒ«ă‚€ăƒ‰æ•°ăšă‚­ăƒȘă‚čăƒˆæ•™ăšăźă‚·ăƒłă‚ŻăƒŹăƒ†ă‚Łă‚șムに ぀いお、あăȘăŸé”ăźèŠ‹è§ŁăŒă‚‚ă—ă‚ă‚Œă°æ•™ăˆăŠăă ă•ă„ă€‚ ăƒžă‚€ă‚Żă€Œćƒ•ăŒæƒłćƒă™ă‚‹ă«ă€çŸćœšäž–ç•Œă§ä»°ă•ă‚ŒăŠă„ă‚‹ćź— æ•°ăŻă™ăčど、漟いろんăȘćˆ„ă€…ăźć€ä»Łćź—æ•™ăźă‚ąăƒžăƒ«ă‚Źăƒ  ă ăšæ€ă†ă€‚ă ă‹ă‚‰ă“ăă€ćź—æ•™ă«ăŠă‘ă‚‹æ„”ç«ŻăȘćŽŸç†äž»çŸ©ăš ă„ă†ăźăŻéŠŹă’ăŠă„ă‚‹ă‚“ă ă€‚çŸä»Łăźć„€ćŒă‚„æ•™ăˆăŒă€ă‚‚ăš ă‚‚ăšăźç„žăźèš€è‘‰ă§ă‚ă‚Šă†ă‚‹ă‚ă‘ăŒăȘいんだからね。そう したもぼはすăčお、長いćčŽæœˆă‚’ç”Œă‚‹ă†ăĄă«ă€ăăźæ™‚ä»Łæ™‚ ä»Łăźäœ“ćˆ¶ăźéƒœćˆă«ćˆă‚ă›ăŠèȘżæ•Žă•ă‚Œă€æ··ćˆă•ă‚Œă€ç·šé›†ă• れどきたっどいうこべăȘんだ」


â—ă‚±ăƒ«ăƒˆçŸŽèĄ“ăźæžŠć·»æšĄæ§˜ă‚„ă€éșè·Ąă‚„èŁ…éŁŸć“ă«ă‚ˆăć‡șどく ă‚‹ç”„çŽæšĄæ§˜ăŻă€ă‚šă‚żăƒŒăƒŠăƒ«ăƒ»ăƒŽăƒƒăƒˆăšć‘Œă°ă‚Œă€ă‚±ăƒ«ăƒˆäșș ăźă€Œć§‹ă‚ă‚‚ç”‚ă‚ă‚Šă‚‚ăȘă„æ­»ç”ŸèŠłă€ă‚’èĄšă—ăŠă„ă‚‹ăšèš€ă‚ă‚Œ ăŸă™ă€‚BOCăźéŸłæ„œă‚‚ă€æ„œæ›Čăă‚Œăžă‚ŒăŻă™ă”ăć€‹æ€§çš„ăȘん ă ă‘ă‚Œă©ă€èŽăç”‚ă‚ăŁăŠăżă‚‹ăšă€ăŸă ăšăŁăšéŸłæ„œăŒç¶šă„ どいるようăȘæ„ŸèŠšă‚’èŽăæ‰‹ă«äžŽăˆăŠăă‚ŒăŸă™ă€‚ăă“ă«äœ• ă‚‰ă‹ăźé–ąé€Łæ€§ăŻć­˜ćœšă™ă‚‹ăšæ€ă„ăŸă™ă‹ïŒŸ

ăƒžă‚€ă‚Żă€ŒæžŠć·»æšĄæ§˜ă«ă€ă„ăŠć›ăŒèš€ă„ăŸă„ă“ăšăŻă€ç†è§Łć‡ș æ„ă‚‹ă‚ˆă€‚ćƒ•ă‚‰ăźæ›Čă«ăŠă‘ă‚‹ă€ććŸ©ă—ăŸă‚ŠćŸȘ環したりする ă‚šăƒŹăƒĄăƒłăƒˆăźă“ăšă ă‚ˆă­ă€ăăŁăšă€‚ă‚ąăƒ«ăƒšă‚žă‚Șăšă‹ăƒ»ăƒ»ăƒ»ăƒ»ăƒ»ă€‚ ćƒ•ă‚‰ăŻă€ć€šăăźć Žćˆă€ăŸă‚‹ă§æ°žé ă«ç¶šă„ăŠă„ăăżăŸă„ă« èžă“ăˆă‚‹ă‚ˆă†ă€ăƒˆăƒ©ăƒƒă‚Żă‚’ăƒ‡ă‚¶ă‚€ăƒłă—ăŠă„ă‚‹ă€‚ăƒŹă‚łăƒŒăƒ‰ă‹ ă‚‰èžă“ăˆă‚‹éƒšćˆ†ăŒă€ăŸă‚‹ă§ć·šć€§ăȘç„Ąé™ăźäœ•ă‚‚ăźă‹ăźă€ă» んぼ氏さăȘäž€éƒšćˆ†ă§ă‚ă‚‹ă‹ăźćŠ‚ăæ€ăˆă‚‹ă‚ˆă†ă«ă€ă‚šăƒ‡ă‚Ł ăƒƒăƒˆă™ă‚‹ă‚“ă ă€‚ă—ă°ă‚‰ăăźé–“ă”ăŁăšæ”źă‹ă‚“ă§ăăŸă‹ăšæ€ă† ăšă€ăŸăŸè‡Șç„¶ă«æ¶ˆăˆăŠă„ăăƒŒă‚ăŸă‹ă‚‚ăă‚“ăȘéąšă«ă­ă€‚ă ă†ă™ă‚‹ăšă€ă©ă“ă‹ćˆ„ăźć Žæ‰€ă§ă€ăă‚ŒăŒă„ă€ăŸă§ă‚‚éłŽă‚Šç¶š けどいるようăȘ、そんăȘæ°—ăŒă—ăŠăă‚‹ă‚“ă ă€‚ćƒ•ă‚‰ăŻă€ăă‚Œ


2002 04 Snoozer No30 pg44.jpg


惕は、è‡Ș戆ăȘă‚ŠăźăƒŠăƒŒăƒˆăƒ”ă‚ąă«ă€ă„ăŠăźăƒŽă‚Łă‚žăƒ§ăƒłă‚’æ€ă„æă„ăŠă„ă‚‹ă€‚ăăŁăšăă‚ŒăŻă€ äșșă€…ăŒăă‚Œăžă‚Œăźć·źç•°ă‚’æŒăĄă†ă‚‹ă‚ˆă†ă«ă—ăŁă‹ă‚Šæ•™è‚Čを揗けどいăȘăŒă‚‰ă€æšŽćŠ›ă«èšŽăˆă‚‹ ä»Łă‚ă‚Šă«ăŠäș’いにă‚ČăƒŒăƒ ă‚’æŒ‘ăżă‚ă†ă‚ˆă†ăȘ、そんăȘæœȘæ„ă€‚ăă“ă§ăŻă€æœšă€…ăŒăŸăŁăŸăź 10秒間で30ăƒ•ă‚ŁăƒŒăƒˆă«ăŸă§è‚Čち、è‰Čぼ違う10怋ぼć€Șé™œăŒäž€æ—„äž­èŒăç¶šă‘ăŠă„ă‚‹ă‚“ă 


è‡Șèș«ăźć Žæ‰€ă€ăă‚Œè‡Șèș«ăźćź‡ćź™ă‚„æ™‚é–“ă‚’æŒăŁăŠă„ă‚‹ă‚ˆă†ăȘ éŸłæ„œă‚’äœœăŁăŠă„ă‚‹ă€‚ăăźć Žæ‰€ăŁăŠă„ă†ăźăŻă€ăŸă‚Šă€ă‚‚ă† äž€ă€ăźçŸćźŸ ă“ăźä»Šăšă„ă†æ™‚ä»Łă‚’æŠœè±ĄćŒ–ă—ăŸă€çŸćźŸăź ăƒ•ă‚Ąăƒłă‚żă‚žăƒŒăƒ»ăƒŽă‚ĄăƒŒă‚žăƒ§ăƒłăżăŸă„ăȘă‚‚ăźă ă­ă€‚ă ă‹ă‚‰ăŸ ă‚‹ă§ă€ćˆ„ăźć Žæ‰€ă‚„æ™‚é–“ăźäž­ăžăšă€èžăżć…„ăŁăŠă„ăă‚ˆă†ăȘ æ°—æŒăĄă«ăȘるんじゃăȘă„ă‹ăšæ€ă†ă€‚ăăźć Žæ‰€ăŻă€æ›Čがり è§’ăźć‘ă“ă†ćŽă«ă€éĄăźć‘ă“ă†ćŽă«ă€ă„ă€ă‚‚ć­˜ćœšă—ăŠă„ă‚‹ ă‚“ă ă€‚ăƒăƒ”ăƒ„ăƒ©ăƒŒăȘăƒ•ă‚Ąăƒłă‚żă‚žăƒŒă«ăŻă€ćż…ăšăă‚“ăȘ䜜甚 があるよね。そう、äșșăŻă€éŸłæ„œăšăšă‚‚ă«è‡Șćˆ†ăźă‚€ăƒžă‚žăƒ ăƒŒă‚·ăƒ§ăƒłă‚’è§Łăæ”Ÿă€ă“ăšă§ă€ă„ă€ă§ă‚‚ć„œăăȘæ™‚ă«ă€è‡Ș戆 è‡Șèș«ăźăƒ©ă‚€ăƒ•ă‹ă‚‰ă—ă°ă—é›ąă‚Œă‚‹ă“ăšăŒć‡șæ„ă‚‹ă‚“ă ă€


â—ăƒ’ăƒƒăƒ”ăƒŒă‚€ă‚șăƒ ă‚’ă©ăźă‚ˆă†ă«æ‰ăˆăŠă„ăŸă™ă‹ïŒŸ

ăƒžăƒŒă‚«ă‚čă€Œâ€œăƒ’ăƒƒăƒ”ăƒŒă‚€ă‚șăƒ â€ăšćƒ•ă‚‰ăźé–“ă«ă‚ă‚‹ă€ć”Żäž€ăź ăƒȘă‚ąăƒ«ăȘçč‹ăŒă‚ŠăŻă€1960ćčŽä»Łă«èŠ±é–‹ă„ăŸă™ăčどぼファン タă‚čティックăȘéŸłæ„œă€‚ćƒ•ă‚‰ăŻăă‚Œă«ă€ă„ăŠă‚ˆăçŸ„ăŁăŠă„ ă‚‹ă—ă€ć€§ć„œăă ă‹ă‚‰ă€


●60ćčŽä»Łă«ăƒ’ăƒƒăƒ”ăƒŒăźă‚°ăƒ«ăšă•ă‚ŒăŸäœœćź¶ăƒȘăƒăƒŁăƒŒăƒ‰ăƒ»ăƒ– ăƒ­ăƒŒăƒ†ă‚Łă‚ŹăƒłăŻă€ă€Œè„żç“œçł–ăźæ—„ă€…ă€ăšă„ă†äœœć“ă§ă€ă‚ă‚‹çšź ăźç†æƒłéƒ·ă‚’æăăŸă—ăŸă€‚ăă‚ŒăŻă€ă€ŒIDEATH」べいう損ぼ ç†æƒłéƒ·ă§ă€ă€ăŸă‚ŠăƒŸăƒŒă‚€ă‚șムを構めべするスギをæźșă™ïŒˆăȘ ă„ă—çžźć°ă™ă‚‹ïŒ‰ă“ăšă«ă‚ˆă‚Šæˆç«‹ă™ă‚‹ă€ćčłć’Œă§ć€‰ćŒ–たăȘい 侖界でした。あăȘた達は、そぼようăȘç†æƒłéƒ·ă‚’ă©ă†æ€ă„ ăŸă™ă‹ïŒŸè‚Żćźšă—ăŸă™ă‹ïŒŸ

ăƒžă‚€ă‚Żă€Œă§ă‚‚ă€ăă‚ŒăŻćŒæ™‚ă«ă€ă‚Ÿăƒłăƒ“ă ă‘ăŒäœă‚€äž–ç•Œă« もăȘりうるよね。侀äșșăČăšă‚Šăźć€‹æ€§ă‚‚ăȘăă€äœ•ăźé©šăă‚‚ ăȘく、ă‚ȘăƒȘă‚žăƒŠăƒ«ăȘæ€æƒłă‚‚ăȘく、é€Čæ­©ă‚‚ăȘă„ă€‚æ‘©æ“Šă«ă‚ˆ ăŁăŠăźăżă€ç”ŸăŸă‚Œă‚‹é€Čæ­©ăšă„ă†ăźă‚‚ă‚ă‚‹ă€


●では、BOCăźéŸłæ„œăŻă€äœ•ă‚‰ă‹ăźç†æƒłéƒ·ă‚’ćźŸçŸă•ă›ă‚‹ă‚‚ ăźă ăšæ€ă„ăŸă™ă‹ïŒŸăă†ă ăšă™ă‚Œă°ă€ăă‚ŒăŻă©ăźă‚ˆă†ăȘ ăƒŠăƒŒăƒˆăƒ”ă‚ąă§ă™ă‹ïŒŸ

ăƒžă‚€ă‚Żă€Œćƒ•ă‚‰ăźéŸłæ„œăŒă€ä»Šă‚ă‚‹çŸçŠ¶ă«ćŻŸă™ă‚‹ă‚Șăƒ«ă‚żăƒŠăƒ† ă‚€ăƒŽïŒˆćˆ„ăźéžæŠžè‚ąïŒ‰ă‚’ç€șă™ă‚‚ăźă§ă‚ăŁăŠă»ă—ă„ăšă€ćƒ•ăŻ æ€ă†ă€‚ă€ăŸă‚Šă€ćƒ•ăŒäœœæ›Čă™ă‚‹ăšăă«æœ›ă‚€ăźăŻă€çŸćźŸäž–ç•Œ ぼこぼ捘èȘżăȘăƒȘケăƒȘăƒ†ă‚Łă‹ă‚‰ćˆ‡ă‚Šé›ąă•ă‚ŒăŸéŸłæ„œă§ă‚ăŁăŠ ほしい、ずいうこずăȘă‚“ă ă€‚ăă—ăŠć€šćˆ†ă€ăăźăšăćƒ•ăŻă€ è‡Ș戆ăȘă‚ŠăźăƒŠăƒŒăƒˆăƒ“ă‚ąă«ă€ă„ăŠăźăƒ‘ăƒŒă‚œăƒŠăƒ«ăȘヮィゾョ ăƒłă‚’æ€ă„æă„ăŠă„ă‚‹ă‚“ă ă‚ă†ăȘ。きっべそれは、äșș々がそ ă‚Œăžă‚Œăźć·źç•°ă‚’æŒăĄă†ă‚‹ă‚ˆă†ă«ă—ăŁă‹ă‚Šæ•™è‚Čを揗けどい ăȘăŒă‚‰ă€æšŽćŠ›ă«èšŽăˆă‚‹ä»Łă‚ă‚Šă«ăŠäș’いにă‚ČăƒŒăƒ ă‚’æŒ‘ăżă‚ うようăȘ、そんăȘæœȘæ„ă€‚ăă“ă§ăŻă€æœšă€…ăŒăŸăŁăŸăź10秒 間で30ăƒ•ă‚ŁăƒŒăƒˆă«ăŸă§è‚Čち、è‰Čぼ違う10怋ぼć€Șé™œăŒäž€æ—„ äž­èŒăç¶šă‘ăŠă„ă‚‹ă‚“ă ă€


●BOCăźéŸłæ„œă‚’ç‰čćŸŽă„ă‘ăŠă„ă‚‹ăźăŻă€æ˜Žă‚‰ă‹ă«äž–é–“ăšăŻ é•ă†ă€ă‚†ăŁăŸă‚Šăšă—ăŸæ™‚é–“ăźæ”ă‚Œă‚’ăƒ‡ă‚¶ă‚€ăƒłă—ăŠă„ă‚‹ă“ ăšă ăšæ€ă„ăŸă™ă€‚ă€Œè‡Șćˆ†é”ăźéŸłæ„œă«ă‚ˆăŁăŠă€èŽăæ‰‹ăźæ™‚é–“ æ„ŸèŠšă«äœ•ă‚‰ă‹ăźâ€œć€‰æ›Žâ€ă‚’äżƒă—ăŸă„ă€ ăă†ă„ăŁăŸæ„è­˜ はあăȘăŸé”ăźă‚ąăƒłă‚°ăƒ«ă«ă‚ă‚ŠăŸă™ă‹ïŒŸ

ăƒžă‚€ă‚Żă€Œă‚€ă‚šă‚čïŒăă‚Œă“ăă€ăƒˆăƒȘăƒƒă‚Żăźäž€ă€ăȘんだ。ゔ ă‚€ă‚±ăƒ‡ăƒȘックă‚čăźæœ€ă‚‚æ˜Žç™œăȘă‚šăƒ•ă‚§ă‚Żăƒˆăźäž€ă€ă ă­ă€‚éŸł æ„œă«ă‚ˆăŁăŠćƒ•ă‚‰ăŒăă‚Œă‚’ç›źæŒ‡ă™ăŸă‚ă«ăŻă€ăŸăă•ă‚“ăźæ‰‹ æł•ăźăƒȘă‚čăƒˆăŒæŒ™ă’ă‚‰ă‚Œă‚‹ă€‚äŸ‹ăˆă°ă€éŸłæ„œă‚’ă‚čăƒ‘ă‚€ăƒ©ăƒ«ïŒˆæžŠ ć·»ïŒ‰ăźă‚ˆă†ă«æ§‹æˆă—ăŸă‚Šă€‚ă‚ąăƒ«ăƒšă‚žă‚Șă‚’äœżăŁăŸă‚Šă€‚æłšæ„ æ·±ăè€łă‚’ć‚Ÿă‘ă‚Œă°ć‚Ÿă‘ă‚‹ă»ă©ă€ă©ă‚“ă©ă‚“è†šă‚ŒäžŠăŒăŁăŠă„ă ようăȘăƒ‡ă‚Łăƒ†ăƒŒăƒ«ă‚’èŸŒă‚ăŸă‚Šă€‚ăă—ăŠă€ăƒŹă‚łăƒŒăƒ‰ăŒéłŽă‚Šç”‚ ă‚ăŁăŸćŸŒă‚‚é ­ăźäž­ă§ć»¶ă€…ç¶šă„ăŠă„ăăżăŸă„ă«æ„Ÿă˜ă‚‹ă‚ˆă† ăȘă€ăƒĄăƒ­ăƒ‡ă‚Łăźăƒ«ăƒŒăƒ—ă‚’äœœăŁăŸă‚Šă„ăă€ă‹è»ąèȘżă‚’配 çœźă—ăŸă‚Šă€ă‚ă‚‹äž»éĄŒă‚’ăŸăŁăŸăæœȘè§Łæ±șăźăŸăŸă«æ”Ÿçœźă—ăŸ

りするべ、そういうćŠčæžœăŒç”ŸăŸă‚Œă‚‹ă‚“ă ă‚ˆă€


●BOCăźă‚ąăƒŒăƒˆăƒŻăƒŒă‚Żă‚„æ›Čă‚żă‚€ăƒˆăƒ«ă«ăŻă€ç‰čă«ć‰äœœEP ă‚’ć§‹ă‚ăšă—ăŠă€ç”°ćœ’çš„ïŒˆruralăȘă‚‚ăźăžăźèš€ćŠăŒæ•°ć€šă èŠ‹ă‚‰ă‚ŒăŸă™ă€‚ă€ŒruralăȘă‚‚ăźă€ăšăŻă€ć˜çŽ”ă«èš€ăŁăŠă€æ–‡æ˜Žăź ć€–éƒšă ăšèš€ă†ă“ăšăŒć‡șæ„ă‚‹ăšæ€ă„ăŸă™ăŒă€ă‚ăȘた達ぼ侭 ă«ăăźă‚ˆă†ăȘă‚ąăƒłă‚°ăƒ«ăŻă‚ă‚ŠăŸă™ă‹ïŒŸ

ăƒžăƒŒă‚«ă‚čă€Œă†ăƒŒă‚“ă€æ›Čă‚’æ›žăăšăă«ă€ăă‚ŒăŒă©ă“ă‹ä»–ăźç’° ćąƒă§ă€ä»–ăźèȘ°ă‹ă«èŽă‹ă‚Œă‚‹ăšă“ă‚ăŁăŠă€æƒłćƒă—ăŸă‚ŠăŻă— ăȘă„ă‚“ă ă€‚ă ă‹ă‚‰ă€ćƒ•ă‚‰ă«ăšăŁăŠăŻ100ăƒ‘ăƒŒă‚»ăƒłăƒˆă€ćƒ•ă‚‰ è‡Șèș«ăźăŸă•ă«ç›źăźć‰ă«ă‚ă‚‹ç’°ćąƒă‚„ă€è‡Șćˆ†é”ăźç”ŸæŽ»ă€èš˜æ†¶ ăȘă‚“ă‹ăšé–ąäż‚ă—ăŠă„ă‚‹ă€‚ăă‚ŒăŒăŸăŸăŸăŸă€ăšăŠă‚‚ç”°ćœ’çš„ ăȘćœ±éŸżăšăȘっどいるんだよ」


●BOCたruralnessïŒˆç”°ćœ’æ€§ïŒ‰ăšăŻă€marginality瀟 äŒšăźäž»æ”ă‹ă‚‰ć–ă‚Šæź‹ă•ă‚Œă‚‹ă“ăšă€ç„ĄèŠ–ă•ă‚Œă‚‹ă“ăšă€èŸș湃 や摹èŸșă«ă‚ă‚‹ă“ăšïŒ‰ăźèĄšçŸăšæ‰ăˆă‚‹ă“ăšăŻćŻèƒœă§ă™ă‹ïŒŸ

ăƒžă‚€ă‚Żă€Œăă‚ŒăŻć˜ă«ă€ćƒ•ă‚‰ăźă„ă‚‹ć Žæ‰€ă‚’ă€ăă—ăŠćƒ•ă‚‰è‡Ș èș«ă‚’ă€ćæ˜ ă—ăŠă„ă‚‹ă‚“ă ă€


●では、BOCăźéŸłæ„œă‚’ă€ç©æ„”çš„ă«ć‘šèŸș的であろうべする、 あるいは摹èŸșçš„ă§ă‚ă‚‹ă“ăšă‚’è‚Żćźšă™ă‚‹éŸłæ„œă§ă‚ă‚‹ă€ăšèš€ ă†ă“ăšăŻćŻèƒœă§ă™ă‹ïŒŸ

ăƒžă‚€ă‚Żă€ŒéŸłæ„œă‚’äœœă‚‹ăšăă€ćƒ•ă‚‰ăŒäž€ç•Șæƒłćƒă—ăȘいぼは、レ ă‚łăƒŒăƒ‰ăŒćș—ă«äžŠă‚“ă§ă‚‹ăšă“ă‚ăšă‹ă€ăƒȘă‚čăƒŠăƒŒăŒăƒŹă‚łăƒŒăƒ‰ă‚’ ăƒă‚€ăƒ•ă‚Ąă‚€ă§èŽă„ăŠă‚‹ăšă“ă‚ăȘんだ。惕らはただ、惕らぼ ă‚čタゾă‚Șぼ侭ぼ惕らだけぼ氏さăȘ侖界で、やるこべをや ăŁăŠă‚‹ă ă‘ă€‚ăă‚ŒăŒćœ°çƒăźććŻŸćŽă§èȘ°ă‹ă«èŽă‹ă‚ŒăŠă‚‹ăŁ ăŠă“ăšă‚’çŸ„ă‚‹ăšăă§ă•ăˆă€ă‚„ăŁă±ă‚Šć…·äœ“çš„ă«ăŻæƒłćƒă—ă« くい。だから、惕らがäșșă€…ă‹ă‚‰ă©ăźă‚ˆă†ă«èŠ‹ă‚‰ă‚ŒăŠă„ă‚‹ă‹ ăŁăŠă“ăšă«ăŻă€ăŸăŁăŸăćœ±éŸżă•ă‚Œă‚‹ă“ăšăŒăȘいんだ。ト ăƒ©ăƒƒă‚Żă‚’äœœăŁăŠă‚‹ăšăă€ćƒ•ăŒæƒłćƒă™ă‚‹ăźăŻăŸă ă€è‡Ș戆べ

ăƒžăƒŒă‚«ă‚čăŒăă‚Œă‚’èŽă„ăŠă„ă‚‹ăšă“ă‚ă§ă—ă‹ăȘい」


●BOCăźéŸłæ„œăŻă€ç„Ąæ„è­˜ăźé ˜ćŸŸă‚„ă€æ—ąă«ćż˜ă‚ŒăŸă€ă‚‚ă‚Š にăȘăŁăŠă„ă‚‹èš˜æ†¶ăźé ˜ćŸŸă«ă€ă‚ąă‚Żă‚»ă‚čしようべしどいる

べいうようăȘă‚ąăƒłă‚°ăƒ«ăŻă‚ăȘăŸé”ă«ă‚ă‚‹ă§ă—ă‚‡ă†ă‹ïŒŸ

ăƒžăƒŒă‚«ă‚čă€Œćƒ•ă‚‰ăŻæ—ąă«ăă†ă—ăŠă„ă‚‹ă‚ˆă€‚ă‚ă‚‹ç‰čćźšăźèš˜æ†¶ ăžăźé”ă«ăȘりうるようăȘă€éŸłæ„œçš„ăȘトăƒȘă‚ŹăƒŒă‚„ćŒ•ç”šă‚’ă€æ›Č ă«ć–ă‚Šć…„ă‚Œă‚‹ă“ăšă§ă­ă€


●BOCăźéŸłæ„œăŻă€äœ•ă‚‰ă‹ăźâ€œé€ƒéżâ€ă€ă‚šă‚čă‚±ă‚€ăƒ—ă‚’æäŸ› ă—ăŠă„ă‚‹ăšæ€ă„ăŸă™ă‹ïŒŸ

ăƒžă‚€ă‚Żă€Œăă†ă§ă‚ăŁăŠă»ă—ă„ă­ă€


â—èł‡æœŹäž»çŸ©ăźç€ŸäŒšă«ăŠă„ăŠă€ă‚ă‚‹çšźăźă‚šă‚čă‚±ă‚€ăƒ—ă‚„ă‚”ăƒœ ă‚żăƒŒă‚žăƒ„ăšă„ă†ăźăŻă€æœ€ă‚‚æœŹèłȘ的ăȘć±é™șさを秘めどいる、 ăšă„ă†èš€ă„æ–čă«ćŒæ„ă—ăŸă™ă‹ïŒŸ

ïŒˆç„Ąć›žç­”ïŒ‰


●ćŸčćș•ă—ăŠăƒŽă‚čă‚żăƒ«ă‚žăƒƒă‚ŻăȘèĄšçŸăŻă€ç›ŽæŽ„çš„ă«çŸćźŸăžăź ć€‰é©ă‚’äżƒă—ă†ă‚‹â†’ăă†ă—ăŸèŠ–ç‚čは、あăȘăŸé”ăźäž­ă«ă‚ ă‚ŠăŸă™ă‹ïŒŸ

ăƒžă‚€ă‚Żă€ŒèłȘć•ăźæ„ć‘łă«ăĄă‚‡ăŁăšè‡Ș信がăȘいんだけど、今 ă“ăźæ™‚ăźçŸćźŸă‚’ć€‰ćźčさせたりべか、民ăȘăăšă‚‚ăă‚Œă«ćŻŸ ă™ă‚‹ćƒ•ă‚‰ăźçŸ„èŠšă«ć€‰ćŒ–ă‚’ćŠ ăˆăŸă‚Šă™ă‚‹ă“ăšăŻă€ćŻèƒœă ăš æ€ăŁăŠă‚‹ă€‚ç”ć±€ăă‚Œă—ă‹ăȘいんだよ。è‡Șćˆ†ăźăƒ ăƒŒăƒ‰ă‚’ć€‰ ăˆă‚‹ăŁăŠă“ăšă€‚ă‚‚ă—ă€ă”ăŁăšæ„Ÿă˜ăŸćŒ‚ă„ă‚„ă€ă‹ă™ă‹ă«èžă“ ăˆăŸæ—‹ćŸ‹ăŒă€ç”Ÿăç”Ÿăăšă—ăŸèš˜æ†¶ă‚’ć‘Œăłè”·ă“ă›ă‚‹ăšă—ăŸ ă‚‰ă€éŸłæ„œă«ăŻă»ăšă‚“ă©æ™‚é–“ă‚’è¶…è¶Šă™ă‚‹ćŠ›ăŒă‚ă‚‹ă€ăŁăŠèš€ えるんじゃăȘいかăȘ」


â—éŸłæ„œèĄšçŸăźäž­ă«ă€ăƒăƒƒăƒ‰ăƒ»ăƒŽă‚Łă‚žăƒ§ăƒłă‚„è­Šé˜çš„ăȘă‚€ăƒĄ ăƒŒă‚žă‚’ć«ăŸă›ă‚‹ă“ăšă«ă€æ„è­˜çš„ă§ă™ă‹ïŒŸæ„è­˜ă—ăŸă“ăšăŒ ăȘă„ăšă—ăŸă‚‰ă€ä»ŠćŸŒă€ăăźă‚ˆă†ăȘă“ăšă‚’è©Šă—ăŠăżă‚‹ćŻèƒœ æ€§ăŻă‚ă‚ŠăŸă™ă‹ïŒŸ

ăƒžăƒŒă‚«ă‚čă€Œă‚€ă‚šă‚č。もちろんだよ。æ‚Șć€ąă‚„ææ€–ă‚’ć–ă‚Šć…„ れăȘければ、それは惕らぼçČŸç„žă‚’ćż ćźŸă«ćæ˜ ă—ăŸă‚‚ăźă« はăȘりえăȘă„ă‹ă‚‰ă€‚ă ă‘ă©ćƒ•ă‚‰ăŒä»ŠăŸă§ă‚„ăŁăŠăăŸăźăŻă€ ăƒ€ăƒŒă‚ŻăȘèŠçŽ ă‚’ă€éŸłæ„œăźäž­ă«ćŸ‹ă‚ă“ă‚“ă§ă—ăŸă†ăŁăŠă„ă† æ–čæł•ăȘă‚“ă ă€‚ăă†ă™ă‚‹ăšă€ă‚‚ă—æœ›ă‚€ăȘă‚‰ă€ăŸă çŸŽă—ă„æƒ… 緒的ăȘăƒĄăƒ­ăƒ‡ă‚Łăšă—ăŠæ„œă—ă‚€ă“ăšă‚‚ć‡șæ„ă‚‹ă—ă€ćˆ†æžă—ă€è§Ł ăă»ăă—ăŠă„ăă“ăšă‚‚ć‡șæ„ă‚‹äž€ă™ă‚‹ăšă€ăƒ€ăƒŒă‚ŻăȘ顔が çŸă‚ŒăŠă€ć›ă‚’ă˜ăŁăšèŠ‹ă€ă‚ć§‹ă‚ă‚‹ă‚“ă ă€


â—ă‚”ăƒłăƒ•ăƒ©ăƒłă‚·ă‚čă‚łă«ă‚ă‚‹ăƒ•ăƒ©ăƒłă‚·ă‚čăƒ»ăƒ•ă‚©ăƒŒăƒ‰ăƒ»ă‚łăƒƒăƒ ラたă‚čタゾă‚Șăźćć‰ă€ă€Œă‚Ÿă‚šăƒˆăƒ­ăƒŒăƒ—ă€ă‚’æ›Čćă«ćŒ•ç”šă—ăŸ ăźăŻäœ•æ•…ă§ă™ă‹ïŒŸ

ăƒžă‚€ă‚Żă€Œćƒ•ă‚‰ăŻćŒ•ç”šă—ăŠăȘă„ă‚“ă ă€‚ă‚ă‚ŒăŻă€ă‚ă‚‹ă‚žăƒŁăƒŒ ナăƒȘă‚čăƒˆăŒă§ăŁăĄäžŠă’ăŸè©±ă•ă€‚ă‚ă‚ŒăŻă€ćˆæœŸăźă‚ąăƒ‹ăƒĄăƒŒ ăƒ»ă‚·ăƒ§ăƒłèŁ…çœźïŒˆïŒŠć›žè»ąăźăžăç””ïŒ‰ă«ăĄăȘă‚“ă§ćä»˜ă‘ăŸăŁăŠ わけ」


â—ă‚ąăƒ«ăƒăƒ ăƒ»ă‚żă‚€ăƒˆăƒ«ăźă€Žgeogaddiă€ïŒˆć…„ă‚Šæ±ŸăźçŽ‹ă€ćœ° ăźçŽ‹ïŒŸïŒ‰ăšă„ă†ăźăŻă€ă©ăźă‚ˆă†ăȘć­˜ćœšăźă“ăšă‚’æŒ‡ă™ăźă§ă— ă‚‡ă†ă‹ïŒŸ

ïŒˆç„Ąć›žç­”ïŒ‰


BOC「äșźć€Șă€ă‚žăƒ­ăƒŒă€ă‚ă‚ŠăŒăšă†ă€ïŒ‰


2002 04 Snoozer No30 pg45.jpg


こた焥限ず怹ćč»ăźă‚ąăƒŠă‚¶ăƒŒăƒ»ăƒŻăƒŒăƒ«ăƒ‰ăŻă€èȘ°ăŒăŸă‚ă«éłŽă‚‹ăźă‹ïŒŸ éš éè€…ăƒ‡ăƒ„ă‚ȘăŒæăă€ŒéĄăźć›œă€ă«èż·ă„ă“ă‚“ă ă€ă‚ąăƒȘă‚čăȘă‚‰ăŹăƒšă‚ŽăƒŹç·šé›†éƒšăźçé“äž­ă€ă€Œć—é’ć±±ç•°æŹĄćźŒè«‡24æ™‚ă€


æ–‡ïŒç”°äž­ćź—äž€éƒŽâœ•ćŠ è—€ć€Ș✕ćŸșæŹĄéƒŽ


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ăšăă‚‹ă­ăƒŒă€
ćŠ è—€ă€ŒïŒˆçŹ‘ïŒ‰èłȘć•äœœăŁăŠăŠă€ćŠ„æƒłç‚žèŁ‚ă‹ăȘă‚ăŁăŠæ°—ă‚‚ă—ăŠ
ăŸă‚“ă ă‘ă©ă€ă™ă”ă„éąç™œă‹ăŁăŸă­ă€
ç”°äž­ă€Œè€ƒăˆăŠă‚‹ă“ăšăŒă—ăŁă‹ă‚Šă‚ă‚‹ă‹ă‚‰ă€ă“ăŁăĄăźä»źèȘŹ
がかăȘă‚ŠæšŽè”°ă—ăŠăŠă‚‚ă€ăĄă‚ƒă‚“ăšćŒ•ăŁæŽ›ă‹ă‚Šăźă‚ă‚‹ç­”ăˆ
ăŒèż”ăŁăŠăă‚‹ă—ă€ăă‚ŒăŒćż…ăšă—ă‚‚çš„ć€–ă‚Œă§ăȘかったりし
ăŠă‚“ă˜ă‚ƒă‚“ïŒŸă§ă‚‚ă€ă‚„ăŁă±é‹­ă„ă‚ˆă­ăƒŒă€äżș達」
ăƒ€ă‚€ă€Œć‡șた、濅æźșたè‡Ș画è‡Șèł›ïŒă€
ćŠ è—€ă€Œă§ă‚‚ă€ă‚šăƒŹă‚Żăƒˆăƒ­ăƒ‹ă‚«ăźäșș達っど、ćŸșæœŹçš„ă«ă‚ă‚“
ăŸă—ă‚ƒăčりたがらăȘă„ăŁăŠă„ă†ă‚€ăƒĄăƒŒă‚žă‚‚ă‚ă‚‹ă‹ă‚‰ă€é©šă„
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歘朹だったから」
田侭「1stă‚ąăƒ«ăƒăƒ ăŒă€ă‚čă‚«ăƒ ăšăƒŻăƒŒăƒ—ăšăźć…±ćŒăƒȘăƒȘăƒŒă‚č
にăȘったっどこべだけで、鹒がれたぐらいだもんăȘ」
ăƒ€ă‚€ă€Œă§ă‚‚ă€ăƒœăƒŒă‚șにこんăȘéąšă«çœŸć‰Łă«ç­”ăˆă‚‰ă‚ŒăĄă‚ƒă†
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じゃăȘいかăȘă€‚ăĄă‚‡ăŁăšćŻć“€æƒłă«ăȘるăȘă‚ïŒˆçŹ‘ïŒ‰ă€
ćŠ è—€ă€Œçąșă‹ă«ă€‚ăƒ†ă‚ŻăƒŽăŁăŠă„ă†ăźăŻăƒ•ă‚ŁăƒŒăƒȘングだけだ
ă‹ă‚‰ă„ă„ă€ăŁăŠă„ă†èš€ă„æ–čă‚‚ă‚ă‚‹ă‘ă©ă€ă ă‹ă‚‰ăŁăŠæ°—ćˆ†
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ă­ă€‚ăŠăă‚‰ăæœŹćœ“ă«æ°—ćˆ†ă ă‘ă§ăƒ—ăƒ­ă‚°ăƒ©ăƒŸăƒłă‚°ă•ă‚ŒăŸă‚‚
ăźă§ă€èŽăă»ă†ă«ăšăŁăŠăŻă©ă“ă«ă‚‚ć‚ç…§ç‚čæŒăŠăȘい摳
ăȘéŸłæ„œăŁăŠă€ă‚šăƒŹă‚Żăƒˆăƒ­ăƒ‹ă‚«ă«ăŻć±±ă»ă©ă‚ă‚‹ă—ă€
ç”°äž­ă€Œă ă­ă€‚ă‚„ăŁă±ă‚Šćż«æ„œăźć‚ç…§ç‚čはăȘă„ăšæ„œă—ă‚ăȘい」
ćŠ è—€ă€Œă‚ăšăŻă€ć•éĄŒæ„è­˜ăźæŒăĄæ–čăŒă€ă€Œăƒ†ă‚ŻăƒŽä»„é™ă€ăŁăŠ
いうă‚čパンじゃăȘăăŠă€éŸłæ„œă§ă„ăˆă°60ćčŽä»Łă‹ă‚‰ć§‹ăŸăŁ
ăŠă‚‹æ­ŽćČăźäž­ă§è€ƒăˆăŠă‚‹ă‚ˆă­ă€‚ăă“ăŻă‚„ăŁă±ă‚Šă€æŹ§ç±łă«
ăŻæ­ŽćČがちゃんべあるっどいうか」
ç”°äž­ă€Œæ—„æœŹăźéŸłæ„œă‚žăƒŁăƒŒăƒŠăƒȘă‚șăƒ ă«ăŻă€ă‚ăŸă‚Šă«ă‚‚æ­ŽćČ
ăŒæŹ ă‘ăŠă‚‹ă‹ă‚‰ăȘあ。äżșăŻæœ€èż‘ă€ă‚‚ă†ć°‘ă—æ­ŁćČă‚‰ă—ă„æ­Ł
ćČă‚’äœœă‚“ăȘăă‚ƒăŁăŠă„ă†æ„è­˜ăŒă€ă™ă”ă„ă‚ă‚‹ă‚“ă ă‚ˆă­ă€
ćŠ è—€ă€ŒăŸă‚ă€ăƒă‚čトヱダンもă‚Șăƒ«ă‚żăƒŠăƒ†ă‚ŁăƒŽă‚‚ă€ăă‚ŒăȘ


ç”°äž­ă€Œăă†ă€‚ăă‚Œă‚‚æ™źé€šă«ćŻă‚‹ăšă‹ă˜ă‚ƒăȘくど、çȘźć±ˆăȘ
éŁ›èĄŒæ©Ÿăźäž­ă§çœ ă‚‹ăŸă‚ă«èŽăă«ăŻă€æœ€é©ă€‚äżșぼ侭でぼ「飛
èĄŒæ©Ÿăźäž­ă§çœ ă‚‹ăšăă«èŽăăƒŹă‚łăƒŒăƒ‰ă€ăŻă€ăƒœăƒŒă‚șăšă€ă‚¶ăƒ»
ăƒ•ăƒŒăźă€Œăƒă‚€ăƒ»ăƒŠăƒłăƒăƒŒă‚ș』」
ćŠ è—€ă€Œă‚ă‚“ăŸă‚Šæ„ć‘łăŒă‚ă‹ă‚ŠăŸă›ă‚“ăŒïŒˆçŹ‘ïŒ‰ă€
ç”°äž­ă€ŒèŠăŻă€æœ€ă‚‚äžćż«ăȘçŠ¶æ…‹ă«ăŠă‹ă‚ŒăŸăšăă«ă€ćźŒç’§ă«
çŸćźŸă‚’ćż˜ă‚Œă‚‹ăŸă‚ăźéŸłæ„œă€‚ă ă‹ă‚‰ă€ćź¶ă§ăƒăƒ«ă—ăŸă‚Šă€ăƒȘ
ăƒ©ăƒƒă‚Żă‚čă™ă‚‹ăŁăŠă„ă†èŽăæ–čべは、ちょっべ違う」
ăƒ€ă‚€ă€Œă€Žăƒ‰ăƒ©ă‚Žăƒłă‚Żă‚šă‚čăƒˆă€ăźæˆŠé—˜ă‚·ăƒŒăƒłă§ă€æ”»æ’ƒă—ăŸă‚Š
é­”æł•äœżăŁăŸă‚Šă™ă‚‹ä»–ă«ă€ă€ŒăȘにもしăȘい」っどコマンドが
あるじゃăȘă„ă§ă™ă‹ïŒŸćƒ•ăšă—ăŠăŻă€ă‚ă‚“ăȘæ„Ÿă˜ă€‚ăă‚Œă«
èż‘ă„ă§ă™ă‹ïŒŸă€
ç”°äž­ă€Œă„ă‚„ă€æ–‡ć­—é€šă‚Šă€ăƒ‰ăƒȘăƒŒăƒŸăƒŒăŁăŠă„ă†ă‹ă€‚ă ă‹ă‚‰ă€
ă„ă‚ă‚†ă‚‹ă‚šăƒŹă‚Żăƒˆăƒ­ăƒ‹ă‚«ăŁăŠă€â€œăƒȘă‚șム”べ“音è‰Čâ€ă«æŻ”
é‡ăŒçœźă‹ă‚ŒăŠă‚‹ă˜ă‚ƒă‚“ïŒŸăă†ă„ă†ăźăŁăŠă€ă‚„ăŁă±ă‚Šç›ŽæŽ„
çš„ă«æ„ŸèŠšăšă‹è‚‰äœ“ă«ćˆșæż€ă‚’äžŽăˆăŠă€èˆˆć„źă•ă›ăŸă‚Šă€é€†ă«ă€
èœăĄç€ă‹ă›ăŸă‚Šă™ă‚‹ă‚ă‘ă ă‚ă€‚ă§ă‚‚ă€ăƒœăƒŒă‚șぼ栮搈、ăƒȘ
ă‚șムはćŸș盀でしかăȘăăŠă€ăƒă‚€ăƒłăƒˆăŻâ€œăƒĄăƒ­ăƒ‡ă‚Łâ€ăšâ€œć’Œ
音”ăȘă‚ă‘ă§ă•ă€‚ăă‚ŒăŻă€ă‚„ăŁă±ă‚ŠăČăŸă™ă‚‰ă‚†ă‚‹ă‚„ă‹ă«ă‚€
ăƒžă‚žăƒăƒŒă‚·ăƒ§ăƒłă‚’ćˆșæż€ă™ă‚‹ă‚“ă ă‚ˆă­ă€
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ç”°äž­ă€Œă ă­ă€‚ă©ă“ă‹ăƒŸăƒ‹ăƒžăƒ«ăƒ»ă‚ąăƒŒăƒˆăżăŸă„ăȘăƒŽă‚Łă‚žăƒ„
ă‚ąăƒ«ăźèš­èšˆć›łăŒă‚ăŁăŠă€ăă‚Œă‚’ă‚€ă—ă‚éŸłăŒæšĄć€Łă—ăŠă‚‹æ„Ÿ
じさえする」
抠産「あ、そぼèŸșă‚ŠăŒă€äž‹æ‰‹ă™ă‚‹ăšă€ăĄă‚‡ăŁăšçššæ‹™ă«æ€
うäșșがいたりするべこăȘぼかăȘ」
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2002 04 Snoozer No30 pg41.jpg


BOARDS


OF


CANADA

by RYOTA KATO / JIRO DAI


2002 04 Snoozer No30 pg42.jpg

BOARDS OF CANADA

Interview with MARCUS EOIN & MICHAEL SANDISON

"We create music that seems to have its own universe and time. That place is another reality. It always exists just around the corner, or beyond the mirror."

This sweet and dangerous trip into nostalgia, invited by a duo living communally in the mountains of Scotland, is both the most popular symbol and the greatest anomaly of the electronica boom. Is this escapism, or a transformation of reality? Despite the worldwide enthusiasm, the pied piper's tune continues to play. The long-awaited interview, conducted via email, was finally realized with the release of their second album in three and a half years, "Geogaddi".

"I went to All Tomorrow's Parties in 2001, and I heard that after that point, you went into seclusion to work on a new album. Is that the kind of environment that BOC's (Boards of Canada) music demands?"
Michael Sandison (Mike): "That's right. It's necessary to cut off all relationships with everyone. To keep our minds clear about what we're doing, there's no other way. If other people are around, the music gets negatively influenced."
"Why does BOC stick to the sound of analog synthesizers? Are you interested in DSP software like MAX/MSP that Autechre uses?"
Marcus Eoin (Marcus): "We have no interest in making clean, 'modern' sounding music. It's something anyone can do. Today, thanks to powerful computers and software, you can create professional-sounding music with almost no effort. We dislike the sound of clean digital music; it's too perfect and too smooth, lacking personality. We want to create music that reflects a specific period in the past—for example, early '80s TV music. That's why we deliberately make things more complicated and spend a long time degrading the sound quality."
"Autechre's Sean once said, "BOC's music is good, but it's too nostalgic for me to listen to." Personally, I think this comment captures the nature of both Autechre and BOC. How do you respond to this?"
Mike: "I love their music. It's always fresh and there's always something new to find. But we are a completely different band from them. They are obsessed with patterns, while we are obsessed with melody, texture, and the tactile feeling of sound."
"What was the experience of acid house and ecstasy culture like for you? Do you still feel its influence today?"
Marcus: "When acid house first came, I was obsessed for a very short time. But it didn't have a big influence on me."
BOC's music is fundamentally melody-oriented. If that understanding is correct, what does melody mainly represent to you?
Mike: "For me, melody is a kind of language that acts extremely strongly on human emotions. It's a language that can express things that words absolutely cannot. That language can be understood by anyone, regardless of their background."
"Then, what does 'beat' represent or symbolize in BOC's music?"
Mike: "Punctuation."
"Is the track title 'musicismath' a statement of your attitude toward music, or is it ironic?"
Marcus: "I think it's both. First, we are interested in creating melodies from the heart, but at the same time, we are also fascinated by the science (knowledge system) that supports it."
"Psychedelic culture seems to break down various barriers such as race, sexuality, class, and religion. What is BOC's relationship with psychedelic culture?"
Mike: "I don't think it applies to us. When I hear psychedelic culture, I think of hippie culture or New Age culture, which is completely different from us. Clearly, we are about love and peace, but we don't identify with New Age culture. Our interest in psychedelia is purely in the biological process and the art that it generates."
"Pop music was born to give the audience a sense of community. The psychedelic culture of the '60s aimed for a new community outside of society, and dance music clubs seem to create a one-night-only community. Do you think BOC's music has a communal aspect, even partially?"
Marcus: "I don't know, but probably, a certain type of person identifies with that. There are many people in the world who think the same way we do about the world—and they gather by sharing an interest in our kind of music—I'd like to think so."
"The track title '1969' represents the year you were both born, or is it a reference to a historical or cultural fact?"
Mike: "We weren't born yet in that year. It refers to a special year in the history of a certain American religious group."
"In the above track, you can hear the phrase 'in the sunshine.' Can you tell us what this phrase means?"
Mike: "We wanted to reflect the feeling of hope and certainty that the religious group felt at that time."
"The 1970s, in a sense, marked the end of a golden age. It was the beginning of a new era, one rife with selfishness and materialism. Think about how disappointing the second Woodstock Festival in the late '90s was. Our generation has always been spoiled."
"There was also a track titled 'sixtyniner' before. Does '1969' hold a special significance for BOC?"
2002 04 Snoozer No30 pg43.jpg
Marcus: “That title has a double meaning
 at least in English. The track is based on a tape where a man describes his first sexual experience in 1969.”
Interviewer: "The following year, in 1970, the Isle of Wight Festival ended in a historic failure. That period is remembered as the “season of the end of hippie culture.” Do you have any personal memories associated with that time?"
Marcus: “I don't have any personal memories. In 1970, I was still just a sperm. But indeed, we are very into the culture of that era. The 70s were, in a way, the end of a golden age. It marked the start of a new era dominated by selfishness and materialism. Just thinking about how disappointing the second Woodstock Festival in the late '90s was, where kids trashed the place, burned cars, and committed rapes. Yes, our generation has been spoiled.”
Interviewer: "This might be a simplistic comparison, but do you think BOC's music suits better under the sunlight or in the darkness of night? Also, does it fit better in summer or winter?"
Marcus: “In the bright sunlight of midwinter.”
Interviewer: "So far, BOC's artwork has centered around cool colors like blue. But in the new work, you boldly feature warm colors like red and yellow. Is there any particular meaning behind this?"
Mike: “We wanted this artwork to represent a combination of fire and religious iconography. The geometric patterns in kaleidoscope images are similar to the perfect symmetry often seen in religious paintings. Everything is unified into a single image of a burning summer ritual.”
Interviewer: "In what situations do you listen to BOC's music yourself?"
Marcus: “We always listen to our music. There's a huge archive of unreleased tracks that we love to revisit. Personally, I enjoy listening to our music the most when I am completely alone, like when I'm outdoors or driving. It allows my imagination to run free.”
Interviewer: "Your track titles are always quite mysterious. Is there a resonance with Celtic culture?"
Marcus: “I don't think we've consciously created anything influenced by Celtic culture, but we do like some traditional Scottish music, especially a cappella Gaelic songs. They sound really strange, almost like reverse music, and bring about a supernatural effect.”
Interviewer: "In an interview with Stuart from Mogwai, he said, “Scottish and Welsh culture are very positive but still have this underdog feeling.” Do you agree with his words?"
Mike: “Absolutely. I can only speak about Scots, but Scots don't have any ambition to go out into the world and improve themselves. Even though they are friendly, intelligent, and approachable, they don't encourage each other to get better. There's a defeatist attitude as if they've lost even before they started. Perhaps it's because Scotland is generally much poorer compared to neighboring countries and has been exploited by the English from the start of history.”
Interviewer: BOC's work often feels like messages are subtly hidden in the music through voices. Is this an intentional angle?
Marcus: “Of course. We hide various elements in our music for you to discover.”
Interviewer: "Much of Celtic history is said to be tragic, as many Celts did not have written language. Are you trying to pass on their history?"
Marcus: “Artistically, we don't consider ourselves Celtic at all. We're influenced by much farther afield. But we do take some pride in being Scottish. We support the continuation of Celtic traditions and languages and are interested in the politics of Scotland.”
Interviewer: "Some artists driven by a rebellious spirit against modern civilization, like those represented by Radiohead's "Amnesiac" incorporate references to ancient civilizations as a counter-element. Is there a similar nuance in BOC's music?"
Mike: “It's impossible to analyze one's culture without comparing it to the past. For instance, if we compare 2002 with the times of the First or Second World War, we could say we live in a period of great peace. However, if we compare it to the ancient times of the Druids or farmers, we seem to live in a barbaric era. Overall, as artists, we see today's world as full of possibilities but also fraught with terrifying threats. While we're very positive individuals, we're interested in how our generation was born into this great era of paranoia and how that reflects in the cultural products like movies, books, and music.”
Interviewer: "Do you sympathize with the idea held by many ancient cultures, like the Celts and Native Americans, that nature belongs to no one"?
Marcus: “Yes. This nature and environment have existed longer than you, me, any government, country, or generation. It should continue to exist, but that requires us to treat it with respect.”
Interviewer: "Lastly, what's your view on the syncretism of Druid numbers and Christianity?"
Mike: “I imagine all the religions practiced in the world today are amalgams of various ancient religions. That's why extreme fundamentalism in religion is absurd. Modern rituals and teachings cannot be the original words of God. Everything has been adjusted, mixed, and edited over the ages to suit the regimes of those times.”
Interviewer: "Celtic art often features spiral patterns and braided designs found in relics and ornaments, symbolizing the eternal knot, which represents the Celtic view of life and death without a beginning or end. BOC's music, while each track is very individual, leaves the listener with a sense that the music continues even after it has ended. Do you think there's a connection there?"
Mike: “I understand what you mean by the spiral patterns. In our tracks, there are elements that repeat or cycle, like arpeggios. We often design our tracks to sound as if they go on forever. We edit them to make it seem like what you hear on the record is just a small part of a huge, infinite whole. It appears for a while and then naturally fades away, making you feel like it continues somewhere else forever. That's how we create our music.”
2002 04 Snoozer No30 pg44.jpg

I have a vision of my own utopia. I'm sure it would be a future where people, well-educated to embrace their differences, would challenge each other to games instead of resorting to violence. In that future, trees would grow to 30 feet tall in just 10 seconds, and ten suns of different colors would shine all day long.

How do you perceive “hippieism”?
Marcus: "The only real connection between us and “hippieism” is all the fantastic music that blossomed in the 1960s. We know a lot about it, and we love it."
"In the 1960s, writer Richard Brautigan, considered a guru by hippies, depicted a kind of utopia in his work “In Watermelon Sugar”. This utopia, named “IDEATH,” was a peaceful and unchanging world achieved by killing (or at least reducing) ego, starting with “me-ism.” What do you think of such a utopia? Do you approve of it?"
Mike: "But it could also become a world inhabited only by zombies. No individuality, no surprises, no original thoughts, and no progress. There is progress that can only be born through friction."
"Do you think BOC's music is something that realizes a kind of utopia? If so, what kind of utopia is it?"
Mike: "I hope our music presents an alternative to the current state of things. In other words, when I compose, I hope it's music that is detached from this monotonous reality of the real world. And maybe at that time, I'm envisioning my own personal utopia. I'm sure it would be a future where people, well-educated to embrace their differences, would challenge each other to games instead of resorting to violence. In that future, trees would grow to 30 feet tall in just 10 seconds, and ten suns of different colors would shine all day long."
"I think what characterizes BOC's music is designing a leisurely flow of time that is clearly different from the outside world. Do you have the angle that you want to “change” the listener's sense of time through your music?"
Mike: "Yes! That's one of the tricks. It's one of the most obvious effects of psychedelics. To aim for that through music, there are many methods we can list. For example, composing music like a spiral, using arpeggios, incorporating details that expand more and more the closer you listen. And creating melody loops and placing some key changes that make you feel like it continues endlessly in your head even after the record stops playing. These effects are born from that."
"In BOC's artwork and song titles, especially starting from the previous EP, there are many references to rural things. Simply put, I think “rural” means outside of civilization. Do you have such an angle?"
Marcus: "Hmm, when writing songs, I don't imagine them being heard in some other environment or by someone else. So for us, it's 100% related to the very environment in front of us, our lives, and our memories. That happens to be a very rural influence."

Der Eckige Kreis

title Der Eckige Kreis
author Holger In't Veld/Heiko Zwirner
publication Spex
date 2002/04
issue 253
pages 72-75
Der Eckige Kreis was an interview (in German) by Holger In't Veld/Heiko Zwirner originally published April 2002 in Spex magazine Number 253 pp. 72-75.

This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.

Der Eckige Kreis

Die Geschichte beginnt in einer Vollmondnacht. Eine Gruppe Pubertierender ist in ihrem Lieblingsclub zusammengekommen, einer Burgruine im Nordosten Schottlands. Sie tragen sechseckige Amulette und haben TonbandgerĂ€te, Kabel, VerstĂ€rker, Musikinstrumente und Projektoren mitgebracht. Und einen dieselgetriebenen Stromgenerator, der als friedfertiger Drache unten im Festungsgraben vor sich hinbrummt. Ein Feuer wirft flackerndes Licht auf die alten Steine. Durch die Schatten erscheinen Aufnahmen von WĂ€ldern. Die Filmrolle stammt aus dem Archiv des National Film Board of Canada. Seltsame GerĂ€usche hallen durch die Nacht. Elektronischer Puls, langsam drehende Spieluhren, Kinderlieder, digitales Sirren und rĂŒckwĂ€rtslaufende Sprachfetzen aus Radio und Fernsehen.

Der Abendnebel ĂŒber dem Moor hat sich verzogen. Marcus Eoin lehnt an der Bassbox. Er hĂ€lt einen KĂ€fer in der Hand, den er vor den Schuhen seiner tanzenden Freunde gerettet hat, betrachtet ihn aufmerksam und setzt ihn vorsichtig zurĂŒck ins Gras. Etwas abseits schaufelt Michael Sandison eine Grube. Als sie mannsgroß ist, legt er sich hinein und starrt in den klaren Nachthimmel.

In einem Proberaum weiter unten im SĂŒden schreit eine Gitarre. Kevin Shields probt zum ersten Mal mit seiner Band My Bloody Valentine. Ein paar Meilen poshwĂ€rts fĂ€hrt Jimmy Page seinen Aston Martin in die Hotelgarage. Er ist nicht mehr nĂŒchtern. DrĂŒben auf dem Kontinent testen Florian Schneider-Eissieben und Ralf HĂŒtter das programmierbare Oberheim Stage-Piano. Es macht leise Â»Pling«. George Orwell dreht sich im Grabe herum. Wir schreiben 1984 und die Welt ist fĂŒr einige alt, fĂŒr andere neu.

Michael ist 13 Jahre alt, Marcus 14. Marcus bewegt sich zu den langsamen, mulchigen Rhythmen seiner Musik. Michael richtet sich auf. Zahlen, Buchstaben und geometrische Figuren kreisen in seinem Kopf und ergeben immer neue Bedeutungsketten. Michael Sandison. A Dimension Clash. Hi Sonic Leadsman. Held As lnsomniac. Handline Mosaics. Marcus Eoin. Mosaic Rune. lnsure Coma. Sour Cinema. No Music Era. A Crime On Us.

Das Sechseck. Immer wieder das Sechseck. Einmal mehr hatte man sich bei Warp darum bemĂŒht, dem Buch der Prama-Strategien ein neues Kapitel hinzuzufĂŒgen. Im Netz tippten sich die Newsgrouper wund: welche Tracks, wo wie wann und sind wirklich Teufelsköpfe im Artwork? Um keine MissverstĂ€ndnisse aufkommen zu lassen, wurden in England, Schottland, Japan, Frankreich und New York Kirchen fĂŒr die Â»Geogaddi«-Listening Session angemietet. Plastik-Hexagons ersetzten die GebetsbĂŒcher. In Deutschland musste der Rote Salon der VolksbĂŒhne ausreichen, um einen besonders tristen Berliner Januarnachmittag mit Schleifen, Drones und Bildern zu veredeln. Auf der Leinwand: organische/anorganische Sechsecke und immer wieder die Farbe, mit der sich Â»Geoqaddi« verpackt: rost-biut-alt-rot.

»Geogaddi« holt aus zur Imax-Musik, Widescreen-Panoramen kĂŒndigen sich an:

Gletscher, Lavaströme unter Wasser, die Sonne ĂŒber dem Mount Everest. Aber kurz bevor sie ins Pittoreske abschweift, erinnert sich diese Musik daran, dass sie gemacht ist und nicht gegeben. Der Projektor im Imax-Theater gerĂ€t aus dem Lauf, die Bilder verziehen sich. Die Platte beginnt zu eiern. Sie verweigert sich der Einheit von Ton, Bild und GefĂŒhl. Die Strukturen öffnen sich. Referenzen: Autechre hier, The Orb dort. Und da hinten in der Ecke grinst Boyd Rice. Nicht ganz die reine Mathematik, nicht ganz der fiese Kolorismus. Das Runde rollt ins Eckige. Ein bisschen Magick ist im Spiel. Und ein bisschen Horror. Der in Zeitlupe. Das Kettenkarussel kreist noch, aber es ist leer, die Kinder springen plötzlich gaaanz langsam auf und ab, das Bild wird körniger, der Film reißt. Dreht euch nicht um! Es passiert viel im Hintergrund und nicht alles ist gut.

Enter Neunziger. My Bloody Valentine veröffentlichen Â»Loveless«, den Schwanengesang des lndierock. Kraftwerk sind in ihrem eigenen Mix. Mike, Marcus und ihre Freunde treffen sich immer noch in der Ruine. Mit jedem Mal werden es mehr. Aus den beiden ist eine Band geworden, der musikalische Teil des Kollektivs Boards Of Canada, wiederum Teil des Kollektivs Hexagon Sun. So heißt auch das Studio in der NĂ€he. Ihr Studio. Marcus und Mike sind Techno-Hippies. Sie sind auf dem Land geblieben.


Mike: Es ist wichtig fĂŒr mich, meine Musik da zu schreiben, wo ich lebe. Ich habe auch schon StĂŒcke in der Stadt geschrieben, aber die klingen ganz anders. In einer urbanen Umgebung habe ich nie den Raum im Kopf, den ich brauche, um in meiner Musik aufzugehen.


Die Natur scheint fĂŒr euch eine wichtige Inspiration zu sein. Nehmt ihr Natur als geordnet oder als chaotisch wahr?


Marcus: Die Natur erscheint so lange chaotisch, bis man ganz genau hinschaut und bemerkt, dass sie von den immer gleichen Mustern organisiert ist. Wenn man sich zu sehr in dieses Thema vertieft, wird es ĂŒberwĂ€ltigend, fast beĂ€ngstigend - die Idee, dass man alles in der Natur durch Mathematik beschreiben kann.


Stimmt es, dass ihr den Goldenen Schnitt als Ordnungsprinzip fĂŒr eure Tracks verwendet? Haltet ihr euch an das klassische VerstĂ€ndnis von Schönheit?


Mike: Wir haben den Goldenen Schnitt immer mal wieder als Kompositionsgrundlage benutzt. Wir haben herumexperimentiert und Melodien mit Hilfe mathematischer Gleichungen generiert, aber generell orientiert sich unsere Musik an keinem Code. Alles was die Kraft hat, dich zu bewegen, alles was geordnet ist oder perfekt, ist schön. Ich finde zum Beispiel alle Tiere schön, auch die fiesen.


Die Welt der Boards of Canada ist bevölkert von Kindern. Haben Kinder einen direkteren Zugang zur Natur und ihrer Schönheit?


Marcus: Kinder haben mit Sicherheit einen direkteren Bezug zur Natur. Als Erwachsene staunen wir nicht mehr ĂŒber die kleinen, gewöhnlichen Dinge. Ich denke, Erwachsene werden blind gegenĂŒber den kleinen wichtigen Dingen, etwa fĂŒr so etwas wie der Farbe eines Insekts. Unser Gehirn verarbeitet diese Details nur noch als Hintergrund-Rauschen. Deshalb sind Kinder von winzigen Dingen wie Murmeln und WĂŒrmern fasziniert, wĂ€hrend wir Erwachsenen sie einfach ignorieren.


Boards of Canada rĂŒtteln an den Pforten der Wahrnehmung. Das Raum-Zeit-Kontinuum hat viele Fenster und dahinter geht's noch weit und weiter. Die mit psychedelisch nur ungenĂŒgend beschriebenen Chöre und Texturen, rĂŒckwĂ€rtslaufenden Spuren, die ungreifbare Distanz, in der sich die Musik abspielt, das immer wieder an Â»Loveless« erinnernde wow & flutter (vulg. Â»eiern«) - alles Futter fĂŒr die Schnappmechanismen der Psycho-Heads. Â»Music Has The Right To Children« steht in der NME-Liste der Â»Psychedelic Records of All Time« auf Platz 25. Â»Geogaddi« dĂŒrfte höher einsteigen. WĂ€hrend sich bei My Bloody Valentine durch die Abwesenheit von Stille eine TotalitĂ€t des reinen Klangs manifestiert, operieren Eoin und Sandison immer wieder ĂŒberfallartig mit semantischen Einheiten, deren Unmittelbarkeit dem friedlich dahingleitenden Headphonauten so mir nichts dir nichts den Teppich unter dem Hintern wegzieht. Word up. Bei Â»Alpha and Orneqa« sagt eine weibliche Stimme plötzlich Â»Yellow«, Einfach nur: Â»Yellow«, Bei Â»1969« fĂ€llt die Zeile Â»969 in the Sunshine« aus dem Vocoder und stellt sich wie ein neonschimmerndes Hologramm in den Raum. Wer das mit erweiterten Synapsen zum ersten Mal hört, dĂŒrfte diesen Moment fĂŒr den Rest seines Lebens nicht mehr vergessen.


Nicht nur die Vokalspuren, auch viele Teile der Musik erscheinen rĂŒckwĂ€rts gespielt.
Marcus: Ja, in einigen FĂ€llen haben wir den Track geschrieben, aufgenommen, rĂŒckwĂ€rts abgespielt, die Reverse-Version wiederum neu eingespielt und sie letztendlich wieder umgedreht.


Gibt es ein Kriterium fĂŒr eure Auswahl von Stimmen? Versucht ihr, unterschwellige Botschaften zu platzieren?


Mike: Wir benutzen nur Stimmen, deren Klang wir mögen. Die meisten stammen von Leuten, die wir kennen und gefragt haben. Manchmal benutzen wir Stimmen als Instrument in einer Melodie, so wie in Â»ln A Beautiful Place Out In The Country« oder Â»Sunshine Recorde« auf der neuen Platte. In anderen FĂ€llen verstecken wir Stimmen so, dass die Hörer ihre Anwesenheit gar nicht bemerken, so wie in Â»An Eagle In Your Mind« oder Â»Alpha and Omega«, Es ist interessant zu sehen, ob es einen Effekt hat. Wir sehen sie als kleine BĂŒndel von Information und sind neugierig, ob es jemand schafft, sie zu hören.


Die Suggestivkraft dieser InformationsbĂŒndel ist schon erstaunlich. Eines der weniger subtilen StĂŒcke heißt Â»The Devil ls In The Detail« und es hĂ€lt, was es verspricht. Ein Kind weint, wĂ€hrend sich eine Frau mit heruntergepichter, zusĂ€tzlich verflutterter Stimme in Selbsthypnose versetzt. Ein Musik gewordener Alptraum.


Mike: Ich schreibe Musik in meinen TrĂ€umen. Manchmal höre ich so dermaßen erstaunliche komplexe Melodien im Traum, dass ich davon aufwache. Aber in der Zeit, in der ich ein Instrument oder ein AufnahmegerĂ€t suche, ist die Musik wieder verschwunden. Das ist eine extrem frustrierende Angelegenheit.


Ihr mĂŒsst eure Musik ohne Strom spielen. Was fĂŒr Instrumente/GerĂ€tschaften wĂŒrdet ihr wĂ€hlen?


Mike: Wir sind beide Gitarristen, ich bin Drummer, also kĂ€men wir schon zurecht. Ich besitze sieben oder acht akustische Gitarren. Wir haben sogar eine komplett akustische Version von Â»Music Has The Right To Children« aufgenommen, die noch niemand jemals gehört hat. Vielleicht veröffentlichen wir sie eines Tages, wenn sich jemand dafĂŒr interessiert.


Euer KĂŒrzel ist fast das gleiche wie das von Blue Öyster Cult. Seht ihr eine Verbindung?


Mike: Wenn du uns einen Umlaut gibst, klingen wir genau gleich.


Wenn Satan existiert, wo manifestiert er sich?


Marcus: Im Internet.


Enter 2002. Noch keine Tribal Gatherings dieses Jahr. Nebel liegt ĂŒber Schottland - mist, myst, haze, fog, dust, smoke, shade, clouds und was auch immer noch an Gasförmigkeiten zwischen Himmel und Hölle herumflottiert. Der Beautiful Place Out In The Country hat gerade seine Blair Witch-Woche. Weiter unten im SĂŒden wird Kevin Shields auf der Straße angesprochen und muss eine Â»Loveless«-CD signieren. Â»Geogaddi« steigt in Britannien auf Platz 21 in die Charts ein. Jimmy Page streichelt seinen Pentagramm-Ring. Er ist komplett nĂŒchtern. Florian Schneider-Eissieben und Ralf HĂŒtter testen den neuen Bordeaux-Jahrgang. Es macht leise Â»gluck«.

BOC veröffentlichten auch unter dem Pseudonym Â»Hell lnterface«. Um die CD auf die GesamtlĂ€nge von 66 Minuten und 6 Sekunden zu bringen, haben sie noch ein paar Bytes Stille angefĂŒgt.


»Geogaddi« von Boards Of Canada ist bei Warp/Zamba erschienen.




Stoned Immaculate

title Stoned Immaculate
author Philip Sherburne
publication Alternative Press
date 2002/05
issue Vol. 166
pages



"Stoned Immaculate" by Philip Sherburne was an interview published in Alternative Press magazine Vol. 166 (May 2002).

This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.

Four years after their classic debut album, these scottish IDM stars return with a new downtempo masterpiece, Geogaddi

What took so long to record the new album?
Marcus: 'We took a year off writing after Music Has The Right To Children and did a bit of traveling and filming. Then we spent a year or so changing and rebuilding our studios, and we had a lot of technical problems that took time to settle down. We where doing favors for people like remixes and so on. Most of the work for Geogaddi was done in the last two years. I guess we work slower than other bands, but were not interested in churning out record after record. The next one will come out a lot sooner.'
What do you feel is the major difference with Geogaddi?
Mike: 'We recorded so much music over the past couple of years, hundreds of tracks. A lot of what we've done that hasn't been released yet is totally different from what anyone might expect us to sound like. But we decided that we weren't finished exploring the kinds of sounds we used on Music. We'll be releasing records in the near future that will probably surprise people, so it was important to us to come back right now after this gap with an album that sounded like a partner to the last album, to reinforce the foundation. No matter where we go next, we want people to know that we'll keep returning to our roots, because we love our early records. There is a difference though between the themes of the two records, because Geogaddi has a more layered, darker sound. [It's] just a reflection of the mood we both had while writing. Maybe it affects some of the incidents that affected us in this time, because there have been some deaths of people close to us and other personal traumas. We had a loose idea to make a record on the themes of art, geometry, mathematics and religion, and that was it. It just seemed like the tracks that went well together turned into Geogaddi.'
You're clearly indebted to psychedelia, and your cover photographs point to a certain pastoralism. Now that Bucolica (Fridge, Manitoba, etc.) seems to be making such strides, how do you position yourselves with respect to that particular sound? Do you think there's a reason listeners are lapping up this kind of electro-organic sound?
Mike: 'Our sound probably comes from the fact that we listen to music from all time periods; in fact we're not influenced by much current electronic music at all. We just try to do our own thing. If people are lapping up those bands it's because the organic thing is refreshing against a backdrop of very urban-sounding electronics. There's a tidal wave of laptop kids making music at the moment, which on the one hand is a great thing because it's a whole new generation being encouraged to create. But on the other hand, it seems to have become a bit of a pissing contest between non-musicians who are more interested in computer components than art, all trying to elbow each other around to create the most impressively detailed clicky sci-fi sounds. [But] at the end of the day, emotional melodies are going to last a lot longer than impressive drum programming. For us it's not a conscious effort: If there is a pastoralism or whatever in the music, it's because we're not urban people.'
Marcus: 'We don't sample old tunes or soundtracks as some have suggested, we just make our own melodies and then try to get them to sound like recordings from 25 years ago. It's so easy to use technology to make clean, well-produced music, and we're not into that at all. We came to the electronic thing from the direction of having used real instruments on multitrack tapes for years. But the technology, like samplers, for instance, allows us to play our melodies on real instruments or synths and finely craft the sound in bizarre ways, and we set ourselves the challenge to make old, damaged, dirty-sounding music.

--Philip Sherburne


Innaturale Digitale

title Innaturale Digitale
author Ugo Malatacca/Tatiana Bazzichelli
publication Il Mucchio
date 2002/06
issue 491
pages 12-14
Innaturale Digitale was an interview (in Italian) by Ugo Malatacca/Tatiana Bazzichelli originally published June 2002 in Il Mucchio magazine Number 491 pp. 12-14.

This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.

Innaturale Digitale


Per anni, la musica elettronica Ú stata associata alla fantascienza, alla tecnologia, al fu­turo, al virtuale, alla perfezione, all'alta fedeltà, al mondo dei computer e dei robot. Il mondo Ú cambiato. Organicità, natura, nostalgia, imperfezione ed emozioni a bassa fe­deltà sono invece i tratti somatici di un "altro" cmodo di sentire il digitale. Le macchine di­ ventano uno strumento come un altro per tracciare percorsi che esplorano il sogno, la vi­sione, il mondo che Ú (ed era) intorno. E creare paradossi naturali


Boards Of Canada


Due ragazzi per metà scozzesi e per metà canadesi, chiusi in uno studio fatto di pareti di vetro e immerso nella campagna, regi­ strano i loro synth su nastro per poi danneggiarlo. Ci miscelano frammenti polverosi di strumenti in carne e ossa ed effetti sonori dai documentari televisivi sulla natura. Si chiamano Boards Of Ca­nada e hanno 8 e 14 anni ... almeno, cosi loro dicono. Della fama o del successo non vogliono neanche sentir parlare, agli articoli o alle recensioni dei loro dischi sono totalmente disinteressati. I Boards Of Canada sono comunque un forte punto di riferimen­ to per la nuova scena elettronica che si Ú costruita dopo l'era dei rave. Il loro primo album, Music Has The Right To Children (1998) Ú un classico. Geogaddy (n. 476) , il nuovo lavoro pubblicato da Warp, ha tutte le carte in regola per diventarlo.


Umano tecnologico

Nella copertina di Music Has The Right To Children un gruppo fami­liare in gita, sul ciglio di un belvedere, si taceva ritrarre in una foto ri­cordo . Abbigliamento e look anni '70, immagine sfocata e impolverata. Un particolare: i volti sono tutti vuoti, non hanno lineamenti, nù dettagli. Sono in bianco. Non servono altre parole per trovare il link con i pezzi deÌl'album, musica che cerca continuamente una verosimiglianza con il naturale e con l'organicità; ma nasconde consape­ volmente, ad ogni angolo, uno stretto legame con l'artificio digitale. Music Has The Right To Children rimane, a distanza di anni, una chia­ve di svolta della scena elettronica che, dopo l'illusione del "futuro"; ha perso fiducia per le potenzialità infinite della tecnologia e si avvicina a una umanizzazione dei suoni e della narrazione. Come?
La maggior parte dei suoni che usiamo sono campioni che abbiamo creato noi stessi. A volte inseriamo del materiale preso altrove nelle nostre composizioni, ma per lo piĂč tutti i suoni con cui costruiamo le melodie sono fatti con strumenti reali o sintetizzatori che noi suoniamo nel nostro campionatore e poi processiarno. Spesso campioniamo noi stessi mentre suoniamo la chitarra, la batteria, il flauto o altri strumenti, quindi ne distruggiamo il suono attraverso il campio­natore, oppure attraverso registrazioni su nastro analogico. In que­sto modo, il suono risulta antico e danneggiato e irriconoscibile dal­ lo strumento originale.
È Mike Sandison , uno dei due Boards Of Canada, a spiegarci nel dettaglio come Ú possibile mettere la tecno­logia su un piano completamente differente. E il socio Marcus Eoin continua:
Per quello che possiamo, creiamo i campionamenti da so­li. La gente pensa che ci limitiamo a prendere suoni dalle colonne so­nore dei documentari televisivi e da questo genere di cose. Ma sa­ rebbe troppo facile. Noi siamo pesantemente influenzati da suoni del genere ma ci limitiamo a emularli. Suoniamo tutto noi e distruggia­mo quello che facciamo attraverso strumenti analogici, aggiungendo effetti che evochino il suono delle vecchie cassette registrate trent'anni fa. Non ci piace il suono pulito, perfetto. Nella musica elet­tronica Ú troppo facile far si che le cose suonino pulite, moderne e perfettamente intonate. Per cui noi ce la mettiamo tutta per fare in modo che il suono sia grezzo, per aggiungergli carattere, perché cosi gli diamo un senso di tempo e di spazio.


Verso il passato


Ritorno al passato, ai momenti della propria vita che la gran parte di noi vede (sia nel bene che ne male) come un momento felice, pie­no di speranze per il futuro, certezze e semplicitĂ  misteriosa delle cose. L'infanzia Ăš uno degli ambienti spazio/temporali (per dirla al­la Marcus) che i Boards Of Canada preferiscono. Si tratta di una vi­sione che parla contemporaneamente del "fanciullino" capace di meravigliarsi di fronte alle scoperte di tutto ciĂČ che lo circonda, ma anche del fascino per l'ignoto che genera incertezza, paura, perdita di coscienza. È la stessa contraddizione del canto di un bambino: puĂČ essere la melodia piĂč soave, ma anche il suono piĂč tetro e an­gosciante che si possa ascoltare.
Sentiamo musica fin da quando eravamo bambini, anche attraverso la tv, per cui molto spesso da quello che facciamo adesso emerge un gusto ti­pico della tv e della cultura pop della metà degli anni '70. È sempre stata una caratteristica dei Boards Of Canada fare riferimento allo stile degli anni '70 e '80 perché Ú una fonte infinita di ispi­razione per noi. In quegli anni ci siamo entrambi spostati di posto in posto. Questo vuol dire che ci siamo inzuppati di molte musiche differenti e di materiale visivo a cui facciamo ancora riferimento


Psichedelica naturale


Per i due Boards Of Canada, che fin da piccoli hanno giocato con la musica, l'evocazione del passato combacia con uno sguardo incantato e impaurito sulle cose. In Geo­gaddy tutto ciĂČ si fa immagine ca­leidoscopica. Del resto, quella del caleidoscopio (da cui le immagini di copertina e i recenti gadget) Ăš una metafora perfetta per sfiora re alcuni dei significati della loro musica. Il caleidoscopio trasforma ciĂČ che vediamo in qualcosa di meraviglioso, infinito, indistingui­bile, perpetuo. Allo stesso tempo il mondo visto da un caleidoscopio si trasforma, diventa irrico­ noscibile, assume nuove relazioni, dĂ  vertigine, smarrimento. E soprattutto svela analogie im­previste tra le cose. È questo il gioco delle im­magini che si affettano, spezzano, distruggono, ma continuano a rimanere insieme strette da un forte legame geometrico. Non a caso uno dei pezzi di Geogaddy ha il titolo di Music ls Math e un altro The Devii /s In The Details. A tal pro­posito:
The Devil ls In The Details ha un doppio significato. Da una parte ci sono molte influenze scure che scorrono sotto la musica, dall'altra si tratta di un'affermazione ironica, un po' per dire che piĂč ti fai ossessionare dalla ricerca dei detta­gli nella musica e piĂč realmente perdi la musica stessa ...non si puĂČ vedere il legno e non gli alberi.
Le venature scure della musica a cui si riferisce Mike sono quella continua ambiguitĂ  di suoni, spesso apparentemente soavi ma pieni di sfaccettature.


Il video


Le colonne sonore consu­mate e la qualità grezza dei film in 16mm. Queste cose mi ricordano periodi in cui la tv e il cinema sembravano essere ossessionati dalla scienza e dalla fiction scientifica, un po' un'influenza scura che ha generato paranoie e paure sotterranee, come nella guerra fredda. Penso addirittura nei documentari educativi.
Il nome Boards Of Canada viene da una serie di documentari sulla natura degli anni '70 appun­to nominati The National Boards Of Canada. Questo tipo di documentari metto­no in scena una natura in continua mutazione, che affascina, ma che in fondo fa sempre paura, perchĂ© Ăš piĂč grande di noi, perchĂ© sappiamo di appartenerle anche nei suoi cicli di evoluzione. In piĂč, la visione del­la realtĂ  attraverso il tubo catodico si arricchisce di ulteriori paranoie (avete mai visto, in proposito, le opere di Cristiano Pintaldi?).
Il pixel dei video, quelli televisivi che filtrano le immagini, ha lo stesso effetto di certi tipi di grana sulla pellicola di un film, dà alle immagi­ni un vissuto in cui vivere e imma­ginare ... Noi stessi non abbiamo un live come band ma un live pre­valentemente visual, in cui proiet­tiamo i nostri video con la musica. Questo dà un'altra dimensione al nostro pro­getto. E ogni volta lo facciamo in modo diverso, per mantenerlo sempre sorprendente.


Note: Translated by ChatGPT-4o


Unnatural Digital


For years, electronic music has been associated with science fiction, technology, the future, the virtual, perfection, high fidelity, and the world of computers and robots. The world has changed. Organicity, nature, nostalgia, imperfection, and low-fidelity emotions are now the hallmark traits of another way of feeling the digital. Machines become just another tool to trace paths that explore dreams, visions, and the world around (and past). And to create natural paradoxes.'


Boards Of Canada

Two boys, half Scottish and half Canadian, secluded in a studio with glass walls and immersed in the countryside, record their synths on tape only to damage it. They mix in dusty fragments of real instruments and sound effects from nature documentaries. They are called Boards Of Canada and claim to be 8 and 14 years old... at least, that’s what they say. They don't want to hear about fame or success and are completely disinterested in articles or reviews of their records. Nevertheless, Boards Of Canada are a significant reference point for the new electronic scene that emerged after the rave era. Their first album, Music Has The Right To Children (1998), is a classic. Geogaddi (No. 476), their new work released by Warp, has all the qualities to become one too.


Technological Human

On the cover of Music Has The Right To Children, a family group on an outing, on the edge of a viewpoint, is captured in a souvenir photo. 70s attire and look, blurred and dusty image. One detail: the faces are all blank, without features or details. They are white. No more words are needed to find the link with the album tracks, music that continuously seeks a resemblance to the natural and organic but consciously hides, at every corner, a close connection with digital artifice. Music Has The Right To Children remains, years later, a turning point in the electronic scene, which, after the illusion of the "future" lost faith in the infinite potentials of technology and moved towards a humanization of sounds and narration. How?

Mike: "Most of the sounds we use are samples we've created ourselves. Sometimes we incorporate material taken from elsewhere into our compositions, but mostly all the sounds we build our melodies with are made with real instruments or synthesizers that we play into our sampler and then process. Often we sample ourselves playing guitar, drums, flute, or other instruments, then destroy the sound through the sampler or analog tape recordings. In this way, the sound becomes old and damaged and unrecognizable from the original instrument."

Mike Sandison, one of the two Boards Of Canada, explains in detail how it is possible to put technology on a completely different level. And partner Marcus Eoin continues:

Marcus: "As much as possible, we create the samples ourselves. People think we just take sounds from TV documentaries and that sort of thing. But that would be too easy. We are heavily influenced by such sounds but we only emulate them. We play everything ourselves and then destroy what we do through analog equipment, adding effects that evoke the sound of old tapes recorded thirty years ago. We don't like clean, perfect sound. In electronic music, it is too easy to make things sound clean, modern, and perfectly tuned. So we try our best to make the sound raw, to add character to it, because this way we give it a sense of time and space."

Towards the Past

Return to the past, to moments in life that most of us see (for better or worse) as a happy time, full of hopes for the future, certainties, and the mysterious simplicity of things. Childhood is one of the space/time environments (to use Marcus' term) that Boards Of Canada prefer. It is a vision that simultaneously speaks of the "child" capable of marveling at the discoveries of everything around him, but also of the fascination for the unknown that generates uncertainty, fear, and loss of consciousness. It is the same contradiction as a child's song: it can be the sweetest melody, but also the most dark and distressing sound one can hear.

We have been listening to music since we were children, even through TV, so very often what we do now reflects a taste typical of mid-70s TV and pop culture. It has always been a characteristic of Boards Of Canada to refer to the style of the 70s and 80s because it is an endless source of inspiration for us. In those years, we both moved from place to place. This means we soaked up many different music and visual materials that we still reference.

Natural Psychedelia

For the two Boards Of Canada, who have played with music since they were kids, evoking the past matches with an enchanted and fearful gaze at things. In Geogaddi all this becomes a kaleidoscopic image. After all, the kaleidoscope (from which the cover images and recent gadgets come) is a perfect metaphor for touching on some of the meanings of their music. The kaleidoscope transforms what we see into something wonderful, infinite, indistinguishable, perpetual. At the same time, the world seen through a kaleidoscope is transformed, becomes unrecognizable, assumes new relationships, gives vertigo, and disorientation. And above all, reveals unexpected analogies between things. This is the game of images that slice, break, and destroy but remain together, bound by a strong geometric connection. It is no coincidence that one of the tracks on Geogaddi is titled "Music Is Math" and another "The Devil Is In The Details". On this subject:

"The Devil Is In The Details" has a double meaning. On one hand, there are many dark influences running through the music; on the other, it's an ironic statement, a bit like saying that the more you obsess over finding details in music, the more you lose the music itself... you can't see the wood for the trees.

The dark veins of music Mike refers to are that continuous ambiguity of sounds, often seemingly sweet but full of facets.


The Video

Worn soundtracks and the raw quality of 16mm films. These things remind me of times when TV and cinema seemed obsessed with science and science fiction, a kind of dark influence that generated paranoia and underlying fears, like in the Cold War. I even think of educational documentaries.


The name Boards Of Canada comes from a series of nature documentaries from the 70s, specifically named The National Film Board of Canada. These types of documentaries depict a continuously changing nature that fascinates but is ultimately frightening because it is bigger than us, because we know we belong to it even in its cycles of evolution. Additionally, the view of reality through the cathode tube is enriched with further paranoia (have you ever seen Cristiano Pintaldi's works on this topic?).

"The pixel in videos, those that filter images on TV, has the same effect as certain types of grain on a film's frame, giving the images a life to live and imagine... We ourselves don't have a live performance as a band but a predominantly visual live show, in which we project our videos with music. This gives another dimension to our project. And every time we do it differently, to always keep it surprising."

Country Comfort

title Country Comfort
author Alexis Georgopoulos
publication URB
date 2002/06
issue Vol.12 No. 94
pages 86-87



"Country Comfort" was an interview by Alexis Georgopoulos originally published June 2002 in URB magazine Volume 12 Number 94.

This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.

Country Comfort


Rural shut-ins Boards of Canada fit nightmares, rainbows and David Koresh into the melodic mathematics of their beautiful new album.


If Boards of Canada's songs could, they would come to life. Children would appear dressed in striped T-shirts and corduroys, shaggy hair framing their fresh faces, grass stains on their knees. The sun would beam down rippling rays of golden white and kaleidoscopic pastels. And honey laughter would careen off the sky's canopy, quivering with he rush of playground love and infinite possibility. Alas, lest you think this a spotless utopia, someone would be hidden in the bushes watching. And not with the best of intentions.


Back after four years holed up in a remote bunker in rural Scotland, Marcus Eoin and Michael Sandison are following up 2000's In a Beautiful Place Out in the Country EP with the psychedelic diorama that is Geogaddi. Like nearly all the releases that have preceded it, Geogaddi is less a collection of songs than a world unto itself, unfurling in sheaths of warbling analog synth melodies and tripped-out Sugar Hill-meets-Autechre beats. It's the aural equivalent of sitting on your analyst's couch, rummaging through a past you're still trying to make sense of.


Loathing publicity and its trappings, the reclusive duo decided on doing minimal promotion for Geogaddi. What follows is one of the very few interviews to follow the album's release.


I've always thought that hype does a disservice to the things it seeks to elevate in that it doesn't allow for personal discovery. Instead, it imposes heightened expectation and scrutiny.
Marcus Eoin: Yeah, it seems impossible to get around this. A deliberate lack of promotion can accidentally become like a form of promotion in itself. We never had any concern about this sort of thing in the past because we've been used to having no more than four fans. When we did [Music Has the Right to Children] nobody had heard of us, and I wish we could do things with a blank slate like that every time. Expectations are higher now, but there's an even weirder phenomenon where some fans actually think they know how our new music is supposed to sound, [so] they scold us for getting it wrong! In the end, all that matters to us is the individual who is willing to give the music a fair go and ignore all the peripheral nonsense that we have no control over.
You have said that you're turned off by electronic musicians' celebration of the technological and urban. Still, even though you live in the country, it seems urbania hasn't left your songs altogether.
E: That's true, otherwise we'd just be making folk music with fiddles and accordions. Our primary instruments are the synth and sampler, and our primary inspiration comes from film and TV, so I suppose we've taken what we want from hi-tech culture, but the hi-tech doesn't govern what we do. Too many new electronic musicians are obsessed with hi-tech gear and software, and that's what they devote 99 percent of their time thinking and talking about. It's like a sculptor making something out of clay. He can buy the best clay and the best tools, but he needs to have some good ideas in his head in the first place.
Geogaddi continues your contrast of naĂŻve, childlike sounds and imagery with unsettling, ominous atmospheres. What draws you to this juxtaposition?
Michael Sandison: It's just a contrast that we've liked using quite a bit on the last two albums because it makes people look inside themselves and dredge up murky memories or nightmares and so on. There's no specific agenda, we just try to provoke feelings and I suppose we're more interested in sad, reflective or disturbing ideas for some reason. But you need to contrast things like that with innocent, positive, happy-rainbow sounds.
Your titles often reference geometry, numbers. Are you trying to draw parallels between natural patterns and technological ones?
E: I think we're more into the idea that everything is mathematical at the root level. But anything beautiful in nature or even manmade is only so because it has reached some sort of mathematical completeness, a kind of working equation in the form of tones and rhythms. And the way that we recognize mathematical perfection in say, a melody, is to say, "Hey, I like this bit of this tune."
The In a Beautiful Place Out in the country EP features both an image of David Koresh and a reference to him in the lyrics. Geogaddi was sequenced to play at 66 minutes and 6 seconds, you have a song titled "The Devil is in the Details" and at the All Tomorrow Parties music festival, your films featured clips of people losing themselves in euphoric religious abandon. What gives with the cultish phenomena?
E: We're interested in all kinds of subjects, and I suppose we went through a patch of looking at cults and the mass mind control of religion and so on. We read a lot and pay attention to cultural events, but we view everything from a distance. We're up here in our observation point, gathering up data about all the weird shit that's happening in the world and spewing it out in some way in our music and visuals. The Davidians thing was about the shock of seeing the way the U.S. authorities handled it all.
Geogaddi's cover art is very reminiscent of children's educational filmstrips. Were you going for this specific aesthetic?
S: It's as ambiguous as the title. We wanted the title to have multiple meanings so you can choose your own. The cover image can be taken more than one way too, because it's a bit simplistic and childish like a school textbook or a children's educational TV program, but it also has a kind of ritualistic pagan flavor. I think we're always trying to trigger ambiguous memories of things we've experienced as kids. We want to see if anyone out there is tuned in to what we're thinking.

The Power of Myth

title The Power of Myth
author Piotr Orlov
publication Grooves
date 2002-07
issue 08
pages



"The Power of Myth" is a 2002 interview by Piotr Orlov It originally appeared in Grooves issue 08.

Note: Not an original interview. Source material from the NME interview, HMV interview and Fader interview.


This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.

Since 1996, Boards of Canada has spun a self-styled legend around its existence. Time to time the webs of intrigue together, and sew a yarn.


Among the most interesting things about Boards of Canada has always been the fully constructed focus of thought within their music. Scotsmen Michael Sandison and Marcus Eoin have produced two albums (1998's epic Music Has the Right to Children and this year's spectacular Geogaddi) and four EPs of luminous, digi-log ambient-pop vignettes (think Satie/Eno melodic melancholy basking in Whitman's pastoralism) underpinned by second-line hip-hop rhythms. More so, they have, for all intents and purposes created a brave new universe of sound and thought. Nature, films, childhood nostalgia, spirituality, the apocalypse, geometrical shapes, and mathematical equations, the old emotions, the new emotions, the in-the-way emotions – all swirl together in their compositions, forming a symbolist manifesto for a new way of life.


But, hey, BoC record for WARP – isn't an idiosyncratic outlook part of the artist contract there? Yet unlike similarly hermetic label-mates Aphex Twin and Autechre, Sandison and Eoin have never allowed their mythology to stand outside of the world they inhabit. If anything, much of the power of BoC's music comes from the inherent interaction between their belief systems and the environment these're expressed in. That nobody has coerced BoC into an in-depth exploration of just what they're getting at, says as much of the short-sighted abilities of third estate interrogators as it does of their deftly built defense systems against pseudo-intellectual wank intruders. Until now – or so I thought.


Chase an enigma for answers you believe promised to you by the all-powerful decree of the music-press machine, and you'll inevitably find yourself spending time describing the outlines, the textures, the release dates, and musical influences yet no closer to fitting together the puzzle you imagined could be completed just over the horizon.


Consider me Oedipa Maas – Sandison and Eoin twin Thomas Pynchon. While they're ensconced in relative, creative isolation, a studio bunker called Hexagon Sun in the rural outland of Scotland's Petland Hills, dropping musical hints of muted horns and orchestrating a mythological fantasia, I'm stuck on the outside, looking for clues and wondering to myself “what does it all mean?” Only difference is, I'm not the product of their imagination and the focus of my frustration does not conclude when the bidder for lot "sixtyten" is revealed.


How did I get here? Around the time of Geogaddi's release, BoC agreed to a handful of interviews (including one with Grooves) that would be conducted by e-mail. Send in some questions, wait awhile, and expect thought-through answers from behind the turquoise curtain. But a funny thing happened on the way back from the inquisition: The answers never arrived in my in-box. After weeks of waiting and a story still expected, I had to take a different approach. And the approach was basically side two of Neu 2.


What follows then is a collage of answers BoC gave in interviews they did complete on the Geogaddi press tour. Yet rather than focusing on recording techniques, length of time spent following-up Music, their “musical influences”, and other standard operating inquiries of pop musician interviews, I chose to look for the very insights I initially went seeking. We may never know just how much of Sandison and Eoin's philosophies of life have specific political or literary seeds: whether they feel an affinity towards the work of Glenn Gould, another musical modernist/traditionalist inspired by his isolated natural surroundings who chose to interact with society on his own terms; or if the Gaddi portion of their recent masterpiece refers to the so-named peoples of northern India, a cast of “untouchables” known for their love of the land, honesty, and mysticism. Yet we can, however briefly, glimpse upon BoC's psychological scroll and the symbolic make-up of their holographic universe. One day, we'll hopefully get more.


(Many thanks are due to HMV.com's Mike Pitlyk, the NME's John Mulvey, The Fader Japan's Nobuki Nishiyama, and Grooves contributor Philip Sherburne, whose own Q&A can be read in Alternative Press, for the material remixed here.)


"Sunshine Recorder"s

Michael Sandison: We love the sound of music that seems to be barely under control, music that's out of tune in a beautiful way, or dissonant, or damaged. It's okay to be imperfect – in fact the imperfections are where the magic is. To us, perfect music sounds sterile and dead. We actually put a lot of effort into making things rough and difficult and noisy. I think most bands get more polished and over-produced as they go along. But one of the ideas with Geogaddi was to go the opposite way, to get it to sound as though it was recorded before the last one. (NME)
Sandison: We don't use laptops, but I do appreciate the sound of very complex rhythmic electronic music, though I fear that it's a finite direction if it's lacking the emotional effect of either a tune or some kind of reference point. To me, the ultimate composition is the one you can write in 15 minutes that has instant musical resonance, whereas complex rhythmic work is more like software engineering, it takes a long time and doesn't always result in something of any significance in the end. We really prefer to approach a song as though it could work on just a single instrument, like an acoustic guitar, so that it has enough basic musicality to make it able to be played that way, or even sung. A lot of current electronic music seems to me to be 100 percent dependent on the specific sounds used for that specific arrangement. But we don't get anything out of music like that. To us, music has to be more than just production and sound effects; it has to have melody and an ability to change people's feelings. (Fader)
Sandison: We try to make the tunes work in more than one way, firstly in an ambiguous musical way, like most instrumental music, but also in an unsettling way. To us, music has to have some sort of purpose, usually to create some sort of an emotional change in the listener. In the past we've heard some people who have barely listened to our music making comments like “oh yes it's nice music to put on in the background”, but if they came to see the visual show or actually listened more closely to elements such as the voices in the tunes, they'd realize there's a much darker science going on. (Fader)
Marcus Eoin: If you're in a position where you're making recordings of music that thousands of people are going to listen to repeatedly, it gets you thinking, ‘What can we do with this? We could experiment with this
' And so we do try to add elements that are more than just the music. Sometimes we just include voices to see if we can trigger ideas, and sometimes we even design tracks musically to follow rules that you just wouldn't pick up on consciously, but unconsciously, who knows? (NME)


Children Have the Right of Music

Eoin: For some reason I have distinct memories of the rhythmic sound of a train traveling over the railway sleepers, the hypnotic nature of that. I may be trying to capture some of that when I am writing music without realizing it. Also, I think the memories you carry from childhood tend to be either from times of total happiness, or from some kind of traumatic disturbance such as moving home. That could explain why I also think of the comforting but threatening sound of a jetliner from the viewpoint of the passenger. (Fader)
Sandison: [The nostalgia for childhood] is something that has a peculiar effect in music, it ought not to be there, especially in atonal, synthetic music. It's completely out of place, and yet in that context you can really feel the sadness of a child's voice. Being a kid is such a transitory, fleeting part of your lifespan. If you have siblings, then if you think about it, you'll have known them as adults for a lot longer than you ever knew them as children. It's like a little kid lost, gone. (NME)
Sandison: When you're young, so much of the detail in the world around you, like a brightly colored bumblebee, or a distinctive smell or flavor, can be totally mesmerizing. Then as you get older these mundane details start to become like background noise to your brain. I think this is why adults are always trying to push their increasingly desensitized bodies into more extreme experiences of food or sex or whatever. I'm always trying to get back to that childish wonder through music and visuals; it's a form of voluntary simplification. (AP)
Eoin: I think that as people get older, they become conditioned by their workplace or society into ignoring the kinds of things they found exciting as kids, you know, like weird sounds, bright colors, smells etc. I read that very young kids can naturally experience sensations so vividly that synaesthesia occurs. (AP)


Music is Math – Vision of the Implicate

Eoin: I like the connection between science, psychedelia and art. The boundaries between music and mathematics, or color and sounds get broken down if you're in the right frame of mind or under the influence of a psychedelic substance. (AP)
Eoin: The hexagon theme represents that whole idea of being able to see reality for what it is, the raw maths or patterns that make everything. We've always been interested in science and maths. Sometimes music or art or drugs can pull back the curtain for you and reveal the Wizard of Oz, so to speak, busy pushing the levers and pressing buttons. That's what maths is, the wizard. It sounds like nonsense but I'm sure a lot of people know what I'm talking about. (NME)
Sandison: There are people who believe that the mathematical basis of music is something created or imposed by the mind of the composer and listener, but it's important to recognize that rhythmic and harmonic patterns exist in nature and music is simply a collection of those patterns. Maths already exist; it isn't a human invention, it's a discovery. (Fader)
Eoin: Geogaddi's "The Devil Is In The Details" has a riff that was designed to imitate a specific well-known equation, but in musical terms. Maybe it won't mean anything to anyone, but it's interesting just to try it. We do things like this sometimes. (NME)
Sandison: We're interested in symbols. We never just make a pleasant tune and leave it at that. So I suppose there is an intention to let the more adult, disturbed, atrocious sides of our imaginations slip into view through the pretty tunes. (NME)


"Energy Warning"s to City Dwellers

Sandison: [The fact that our music suggests something vaguely pagan] is probably just a reflection of the way we live our lives. We are a bit ritualistic, although not religious at all. We're not really conscious of it in our music, but I can see that it is happening. (NME)
Eoin: We've always been inspired by nature, I think that our inclusion of nature-inspired influences is a reaction against everyone around us rushing to embrace everything that is technological, urban, and anti-nature. We try to keep our titles and themes close to experiences that are personal to us, but in a way that can be shared with the listener's imagination. Geogaddi has several meanings – that's what we wanted, to let people allow the album to mean what they want it to mean. (Fader)
Eoin: We don't hate the city, just the homogenized culture you get in urban areas. (HMV.com)
Sandison: I don't think it's easy to be truly independent as an artist at the same time as being part of an urban community. I'm not saying it's impossible, but it just doesn't suit us. Besides, when I'm faced with the choice of hanging out with my friends round a bonfire [in Scotland], or being squashed in a London tube with some suit's elbow in my face, it's an easy choice to make. (NME)


The Dawn's Chorus

Eoin: I dreamed the sound of "Gyroscope", and although I've recreated dreamt songs before, I managed to do that one so quickly that the end result was 99 percent like my dream. It spooks me to listen to it now. (HMV.com)
Somebody once said that the best electronic music is music that you could never quite imagine on your own. Are you aware as to how strangely your music seems to co-eist with the subconscious?
Sandison: I don't know if we hear it quite the way the listener does. For us the whole point of writing music is to get something infectious into the back of the listener's mind, something that feels so personal to you that you couldn't even possibly convey it in words to a close friend. If you listen to a tune by some musician and it really gets you emotionally, it's as though for a few minutes you've tuned into the feelings that were in the musician's head. There's a sort of knowing connection there between the listener and the musician that ordinary language would never be able to achieve. In a way it's the closest you'll ever get to being psychic. (HMV.com)



Northern Exposure

title Northern Exposure
author Ken Micallef
publication Remix
date 2002/07
issue Vol. 4 No. 7
pages 22-30



"Northern Exposure" is an interview by Ken Micallef originally published July 2002 in Remix magazine Vol. 04 No. 07.


Exploring Uncharted Analog Frontiers With Boards of Canada

By Ken Micallef * Photos By Peter Iain Campbell


Although Marcus Eoin and Michael Sandison - the duo known as Boards of Canada - allegedly live in a commune on the northern coast of Scotland, near Edinburgh (not the Great White North as their name suggests), their music is neither pastoral nor hippie-dippy-like. Instead, their odd combination of ambient electro and downtempo experimentalism is about as warm and fuzzy as a horror-porno B-movie soundtrack.

Boards of Canada's debut album, the oddly titled Music Has the Right to Children (Matador, 1998), was a mini-revolution in ambient electronic music, a travelogue of spiraling space loops and woozy melodies that introduced the post-Nevermind generation to the Brian Eno-esque joys of chilling out. BoC's sophomore effort, Geogaddi (Warp, 2002), is even more stripped-down and beautiful than its predecessor, featuring simple circular rhythms, eerie melodies and unusual samples that create an airless, ethereal ultraworld. An overwhelming feeling of darkened, almost dangerous sentimentality permeates Geogaddi's surreal atmosphere, like a child recalling a nightmare to another small friend. Perhaps this is music for the inner child who everyone has left behind.

Many of Geogaddi's songs use spoken-word samples to embellish their bizarre moods, such as the sexually heated female voice that repeatedly counts from one to 10 in "Gyroscope." Naked Gun actor Leslie Nielsen speaks of "when lava flows underwater" in "Dandelion," and from there, the album grows more involved and detailed, with all manner of deranged children and computer voices mumbling over hopscotch hip-hop and cranky trip-hop.

We wanted the general sound to be simple melodies played on unrecognizable textures,
says Eoin about Geogaddi.
We want to evoke the feel of old TV recordings,
adds Sandison.
We go to ridiculous lengths sometimes to make a piece of music sound dated and damaged.
Although Sandison notes that they generally tried to accomplish this sound without simply sampling old TV recordings, a few notable exceptions made their way to the final recording. Trainspotters will enjoy ferreting out various actors' voices or bits of '70s television-show and commercial dialog, which, according to BoC, could originate anywhere from ill-fated actor Robert Blake's Baretta to The Rockford Files to the horror-movie schlockfest, Final Victim.

Eoin and Sandison learned to play various musical instruments when they were children. Sandison formed a band and began making experimental tracks with old synths, drums and tape decks in 1980, when he was only nine years old. Influenced by television documentaries and soundtracks, particularly those by the National Film Board of Canada, Sandison named his band Boards of Canada. When Eoin became the band's bassist in 1986, Boards of Canada were mixing real instruments with computer effects and found sounds from radio and television broadcasts. Sandison dabbled with Super 8 home-movie visuals for the band early on, and by the late '80s, BoC were making full-length films accompanied by their own soundtracks.

BoC's first official release was Twoism (1995) on their own Music 70 label, followed by the 1996 Hi Scores EP on the Skam label. Gigs at the UK's Phoenix Festival and opening for Autechre brought the group to the attention of Warp Records, which signed Boards of Canada in 1998. BoC's first Warp release, Music Has the Right to Children, was met with overwhelming critical and popular acclaim, scooping up several Top 20 spots in 1998 year-end polls in UK music publications such as DJ Magazine, Jockey Slut, Muzik, NME and The Wire.

Since releasing Music Has the Right to Children, Boards of Canada have remained conspicuously out of action. They performed only a small handful of live performances, including a John Peel Session for the BBC's Radio 1, and released the 4-track EP In a Beautiful Place Out in the Country in 2000. Eoin and Sandison spent most of the past four years recording Geogaddi, which, incidentally, is exactly 66 minutes and six seconds long. Like its predecessor, Geogaddi is garnering rave reviews from critics, showing skeptics that BoC's early success was not a fluke.
The incredibly elusive duo stepped away briefly from the soothing hum of the analog machines in their studio to give some insight into the thought process behind Boards of Canada's strange, beautiful music.

What role does reflection or memory play in your music?
Eoin: I suppose it's a big part of what we're about, whether we like it or not. We need that element to give tracks some sort of emotional purpose, because it's always been a driving factor in what we love about our favorite music - the time period that you mentally associate with whatever you're listening to. Sometimes even new music that you've not heard before can still achieve that effect of throwing your mind back through time and triggering some sort of feeling. It's nice when you get a potent, sad vibe from a bit of music that ultimately has a positive, inspiring effect on you, like reminding you of an excellent summer or something.
There is not only an orchestral feeling to some tracks on Geogaddi but also a surreal, nightmarish quality. Do you consciously seek to evoke dynamic swings in emotion?
Eoin: Yeah, the surreal element is deliberate. It's there on Music Has the Right to Children, too, particularly in the voices, but I think we went further this time because there was a vague plan to compile a record that had a sort of Through the Looking-Glass, mashed-up adventure feel about it.
Do specific childhood musical memories influence certain tracks?
Sandison: Definitely. I once did a track that starts with a synth flourish that sounds like an amalgam of every ABC, Lorimar, Stephen J. Cannell musical ID I'd ever soaked up as a kid. Most of the musical memories we try to put back into our music come from TV rather than pop music, especially stuff from the '70s or early '80s, like John Carpenter soundtracks and cheap American matinee TV movies that are about a fat kid with magic powers or something.
"Gyroscope" has a vocal that sounds like a woman in a porno movie counting to 10. Do you ever sample pop-culture sources such as TV and movies?
Sandison: That's not from a porno, although we've used porno speech a few times in the past, such as on "Sixtyniner." The voices are sometimes from old TV shows or tapes we've made. We have a lot of stuff we've collected, going back to the early '80s. But half of the time, it's things we've had friends record especially for us. We create tapes all the time. Practically everyone we know has been roped into recording something for us at some point. We don't sample music, just occasional bits of speech.
Does a vocal sample sometimes spark a track?
Sandison: Sometimes it can. I think that's what I did with "The Color of the Fire" on our first album.
Some tracks have disembodied, even ominous-sounding vocal samples. Do the vocal samples act simply as texture, or are they meant to imply meaning?
Eoin: Sometimes the whole point of the track is about what the voice is saying, so we create a song around it, like with "In a Beautiful Place Out in the Country." We often get friends to sing things for us with the intention of building a melody around it. It's different every time. Sometimes we deliberately disintegrate the vocal so your brain has to do a bit of work to reconstruct the phrase. Often, a tune can work beautifully with no voices on it at all, so you have to know when to say "hands off" and just leave them as they are.
You reside in a rural environment. What influence does nature play in your music, and did it play any role in the "geo-" prefix of the album title?
Sandison: Usually, our titles are self-explanatory, but this record's title is a composite that has more than one meaning. We have a meaning we understand from it, but it's up to listeners to choose their own meaning. I suppose the nature thing has an indirect effect on us while we're writing, because we're out here in the country most of the time. We're both heavily interested in science, too, which crosses over into nature and probably comes through in the music.
Does "Music Is Math" have anything to do with the mathematics and geometry that run through nature and, consequently, art, music and architecture?
Sandison: We've been interested in these things for a while, but on this album, we thought it'd be fun to put it in as a theme. The golden mean is nothing new in architecture and music. All through history, there have been guys like Mozart who got into the Masonic knowledge and were fascinated by this stuff. On Geogaddi, there's a vague theme of math and geometry and how they relate to religious iconography.
How has your gear changed since Music Has the Right to Children? Do you still rely more on tape and samplers than synths?
Eoin: We use computers, too, but shortly after Music Has the Right to Children, we started trying to work differently. We were composing primarily on computers, but pretty soon, it just started to bog us down and take away the spontaneity. So, now, we use computers sparingly for arranging things. Our stand-alone samplers are our primary instruments. Lately, we've returned to a really simple, stripped-down approach: just getting a sound or melody in a sampler and jamming it down to tape quickly, because it captures the moment.
Do you play the bulk of the instruments yourself and then treat them in the mix?
Eoin: We both play piano as our first instrument, and we both play guitar. Mike's a good drummer, and you can hear bits of that in there, too. We record a lot of stuff that doesn't make it onto BoC records because, stylistically, it doesn't fit. Maybe one day, we'll put that stuff out somehow. We've got a pretty weird collection of instruments at our studio - quite a few cheap guitars and a lot of flutes, percussion and old foreign instruments. We don't have that much money, so we just pick things up in second-hand shops for pennies. Mike recently picked up an Aeolian harp for ÂŁ30 that plays itself in the wind. Our studio looks like a junk shop. A lot of the time, we play things quickly on a "real" instrument, get it into the sampler, and then we just destroy the sound. There are a lot of tunes on our records where you think you're listening to a synthetic sound when it's actually an acoustic guitar or voice that we twisted into something unrecognizable. It's a nice idea taking slack organic sounds and regimenting them in an unnatural way with a sampler and a sequencer.
Sandison: We made a lot of our percussion sounds by just wandering about with a portable DAT, denting things with drumsticks. On some tracks, we get people we know to record their voices making weird phonetic sounds. We chop it all up and use the plosive and fricative sounds for percussion and so on. All of the percussion on "An Eagle in Your Mind" was done with my girlfriend's voice."
How do you create your drum patterns?
Sandison: It's a mixture of live performance and step sequencing. Sometimes, we make up sounds and then program them tightly in a really synthetic way. Other times, we want it to sound really rough, so we'll just jam on the drums live. For instance, "Dawn Chorus" is a single-take jammed beat that I played, while "1969" has a live beat all the way through mixed with other beat tracks.
What are your favorite instruments?
Sandison: I have a lovely new Taylor Big Baby steel-string guitar. It didn't cost much, but it has a really great crystal sound with long sustain. And it's unvarnished, so it still smells like the workshop, like sawdust in the woodwork classroom. Our electronic gear is a mixture of old and newer stuff. We like early-'80s analog synths quite a bit, and we have some other things from that era that we're a bit protective of. We don't use any of the recent analog-modeling kit. I'm convinced I can hear the difference between modeled and real analog in music. We drop a lot of our music down onto a Tascam 4-track that has a great saturating effect on the sound. We have five or six samplers, but my favorite by far is still the Akai S1000. It's an old tank now, and the screen has faded so that I almost can't read it, but I know it inside out. It's the most spontaneous thing for making up little tunes. It adds something to the sound - maybe the lower bit depth has something to do with that. But most of our sound is achieved through a bunch of tricks we've taught ourselves. We've been experimenting for years. One of our techniques is to use a lot of hi-fi gear and outboard stuff. We have a brilliant old Rotel hi-fi that we run sounds through to get the feel we want, and we use various Drawmer compressors and filters to give sounds a specific time and place. Sometimes we get a bit carried away with the science of it, like even specifying what year we're imitating by the type of filtering used on the drums or the synth parts. It's a bit of a joke between us to aim at a specific sound, like the subtle difference between the graininess on a synth in a PBS jingle and a bit of incidental music from a British public information film from the same year.
How has your recording process changed, and can you elaborate at all on your creation process?
Sandison: Our songs almost always start with a melody. We usually make up little melodies, like sketches, and when you hit on something you really like, the rest falls into place around it.
Do you try to avoid blatant complexity in your compositions?
Eoin: Certainly on Geogaddi that's what we were going for. In the past, we've taken a much more minimal approach to the texture, like single melody lines where you could clearly hear the instrument. I guess we're heading back toward that empty sound now after Geogaddi, but sometimes it's nice to make a track that just sounds like a weird cacophony of undefined instruments. Most of "Julie and Candy" was actually made up of recorders and flutes.
You don't seem to be too concerned about having all the latest technology.
Sandison: Not really. If you let yourself get carried away with technology, then you end up spending all your time reading magazines and talking about high-tech gear but never actually writing any music. We'd much rather use what we've got and push it to do things it was never designed to do. But we do keep our ears to the ground, because there are certain instruments we've kind of invented in our minds and we're waiting for somebody to come along and make them. We read a comment recently where someone said they didn't like our use of digital plug-ins to make distorted sounds, which made us laugh because we don't use digital plug-ins. We use analog hi-fi units and overloaded tapes!
Do you want your music to reflect a clean, futuristic ideal or more of a rough, nostalgic archetype?
Sandison: A bit of both, really, although I think we lean towards the old rough sound. So many people in electronic music are making clean, futuristic sounds. There's nothing wrong with that. It obviously has its place, but then again, all you have to do to make clean, futuristic sounds with electronic gear is to switch it on. It's a lot more appealing to us to make dirty music.
Is your music new music or folk music?
Eoin: I think it's obviously new music because it references older things, and those references only work in the context of it being understood as being new music, if you get my drift.

Interview by Ken Micallef, July 2002.


Fractal Press 131

title Fractal Press 131
author Christos Karras
publication Fractal Press
date 2002/10
issue 131
pages 20-21



"Fractal Press 131" was an interview (in Greek) by Christos Karras originally published October 2002 in Fractal Press magazine Number 131 pp.20-21

This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.


Η Î±ÎœÎ±ÎŒÎżÎœÎź της ÎșυÎșÎ»ÎżÏ†ÎżÏÎŻÎ±Ï‚ Ï„ÎżÏ… ÎŽÎ”ÏÏ„Î”ÏÎżÏ… ÎŽÎŻÏƒÎșÎżÏ… Ï„ÎżÏ…Ï‚ έφτασΔ σΔ ÏƒÎ·ÎŒÎ”ÎŻÎż Ï…ÏƒÏ„Î”ÏÎŻÎ±Ï‚ Î±ÎœÎŹÎŒÎ”ÏƒÎ± στα αÎșÏÎżÎ±Ï„ÎźÏÎčα της Î»Î”ÎłÏŒÎŒÎ”ÎœÎ·Ï‚ leftfield -ÎźÏ„ÎżÎč Ï€ÏÎżÎżÎŽÎ”Ï…Ï„ÎčÎșÎźÏ‚- electronica. ΚαÎč ΎΔΜ πρόÎșΔÎčταÎč ÎłÎčα Ï€Î”ÏÎŻÏ€Ï„Ï‰ÏƒÎ· Î”Ï†Î±ÏÎŒÎżÏƒÎŒÎ­ÎœÎżÏ… hype. ÎżÎč Boards Of Canada ÎșέρΎÎčσαΜ τη ÏƒÏ…ÎŒÏ€ÎŹÎžÎ”Îčα Ï„ÎżÎœ ÎŒÎżÎœÏ„Î­ÏÎœÎżÏ… Î±ÏƒÏ„ÎżÏ Ï‡ÎŹÏÎ· στη ΎύΜαΌη Ï€ÎżÏ… φέρΔÎč Îż ÎźÏ‡ÎżÏ‚ Ï„ÎżÏ…Ï‚ Μα σΔ ΌΔταφέρΔÎč σΔ Ï‡Ï‰ÏÎżÏ‡ÏÏŒÎœÎż ΌαÎșρÎčΜό. ΀ο Ï€Î»ÎŹÎœÎ”ÎŒÎ± της ÏˆÏ…Ï‡ÎźÏ‚ Ï€ÎżÏ… ΔπÎčτΔύχΞηÎșΔ πρÎčÎœ από τέσσΔρα χρόΜÎčα ΌΔ Ï„Îż Music Has The Riqht ΀ο Children ÎșαÎč ΔπαΜαλαΌÎČÎŹÎœÎ”Ï„Î±Îč ÎŸÎ±ÎœÎŹ ΌΔ Ï„Îż φΔτÎčΜό ÎŽÎčαΌαΜτέΜÎčÎż Geogaddi, Î”ÎŻÎœÎ±Îč αυτό Ï€ÎżÏ… ÎșÎŹÎœÎ”Îč Ï„ÎżÏ…Ï‚ Marcus Eion ÎșαÎč Michael Sandison Μα ÎžÎ”Ï‰ÏÎżÏÎœÏ„Î±Îč πÎčα ÎżÎč Î·ÎłÎ­Ï„Î”Ï‚ ΔΜός ÎșÎčÎœÎźÎŒÎ±Ï„ÎżÏ‚ της ηλΔÎșÏ„ÏÎżÎœÎčÎșÎźÏ‚ ÎŒÎżÏ…ÏƒÎčÎșÎźÏ‚ Î±Ï€ÎżÏ„Î”Î»ÎżÏÎŒÎ”ÎœÎż από ÎżÎœÏŒÎŒÎ±Ï„Î± (Mum, Minotaur Shock, Manual, Casino Vs Japan[]) Ï€ÎżÏ… ÏƒÏ…ÎœÎŽÏ…ÎŹÎ¶ÎżÏ…Îœ Ï„ÎżÎœ Î±ÎœÎ±Î»ÎżÎłÎčÎșό ΌΔ Ï„ÎżÎœ ψηφÎčαÎșό ÎźÏ‡Îż, Î±ÎœÎ±ÏƒÏÏÎżÏ…Îœ Ï„Îż παÎčÎŽÎŻ Ï€ÎżÏ… ÎșρύÎČΔÎč ÎșΏΞΔ αÎșÏÎżÎ±Ï„ÎźÏ‚ Όέσα Ï„ÎżÏ… ÎșαÎč Ï‡Ï„ÎŻÎ¶ÎżÏ…Îœ ατΌόσφαÎčρΔς σύΜΞΔτΔς Όα ÏƒÏ…ÎœÎŹÎŒÎ± ÎłÎ»Ï…Îșές ÎșαÎč ΔλÎșυστÎčÎșές. Η ΎόΟα Î”ÎŻÎœÎ±Îč πÎčα Ï€ÏÎ±ÎłÎŒÎ±Ï„ÎčÎșότητα ÎłÎčα Ï„ÎżÏ…Ï‚ ÎŽÏÎż ÎșÎ±Ï„ÎżÎŻÎșÎżÏ…Ï‚ της σÎșÎżÏ„ÏƒÎ­Î¶ÎčÎșης Î”Ï€Î±ÏÏ‡ÎŻÎ±Ï‚ ÎżÎč ÎżÏ€ÎżÎŻÎżÎč, σα Μα Όη ÎžÎ­Î»ÎżÏ…Îœ Îź ÎŒÏ€ÎżÏÎżÏÎœ Μα πÎčÏƒÏ„Î­ÏˆÎżÏ…Îœ αυτό Ï€ÎżÏ… Ï„ÎżÏ…Ï‚ συΌÎČÎ±ÎŻÎœÎ”Îč, ΔΟαÎșÎżÎ»ÎżÏ…ÎžÎżÏÎœ Μα Î”ÎŻÎœÎ±Îč Î±Ï€ÎżÏƒÏ„Î±ÏƒÎčÎżÏ€ÎżÎčÎ·ÎŒÎ­ÎœÎżÎč από τÎčς ÎŒÎżÏ…ÏƒÎčÎșές ÎŒÎ·Ï„ÏÎżÏ€ÏŒÎ»Î”Îčς, Μα Î”ÎŒÏ†Î±ÎœÎŻÎ¶ÎżÎœÏ„Î±Îč ÏƒÏ€ÎŹÎœÎčα ÎșαÎč Μα Î±Ï†ÎźÎœÎżÏ…Îœ Μα αÎčÏ‰ÏÎ”ÎŻÏ„Î±Îč ÎłÏÏÏ‰ Ï„ÎżÏ…Ï‚ έΜας αέρας ÎŒÏ…ÏƒÏ„Î·ÏÎŻÎżÏ….


ÎŁÏ„Î· συΜέΜτΔυΟη Ï‰ÏƒÏ„ÏŒÏƒÎż Ï€ÎżÏ… Όας παραχώρησαΜ Όέσω e-mail, τα έÎșαΜαΜ όλα λÎčÎ±ÎœÎŹ.


ÎšÎ”ÎŻÎŒÎ”ÎœÎż / συΜέΜτΔυΟη: Î§ÏÎźÏƒÏ„ÎżÏ‚ ÎšÎ±ÏÏÎŹÏ‚


Fractal Press: ΀Îč παρΔΌÎČλΟΞηÎșΔ Î±ÎœÎŹÎŒÎ”ÏƒÎ± ÏƒÏ„ÎżÎœ Music Has The Right ΀ο Children ÎșαÎč Ï„Îż Geogaddi; ΀Îč συΜέÎČη Όέσα σ' Î±Ï…Ï„ÎŹ τα τέσσΔρα χρόΜÎčα;
Mike: ΓÎčα έΜαΜ ÎżÎ»ÏŒÎșÎ»Î·ÏÎż Ï‡ÏÏŒÎœÎż ÎłÏÎŹÏ†Î±ÎŒÎ” ÎŒÎżÏ…ÏƒÎčÎșÎź, ταΟÎčΎέψαΌΔ ÎșαÎč ÎșÎčÎœÎ·ÎŒÎ±Ï„ÎżÎłÏÎ±Ï†ÎźÏƒÎ±ÎŒÎ” Ï„ÎżÎœ ÎČÎżÏÏÎŹ. ΎστΔρα ÎŸÎ±ÎœÎ±ÏƒÏ„ÎźÏƒÎ±ÎŒÎ” Ï„Îż studio Όας Ï„Îż ÎżÏ€ÎżÎŻÎż Ï€ÎźÏÎ” αρÎșΔτό Ï‡ÏÏŒÎœÎż ΌέχρÎč Μα Î”Ï„ÎżÎčÎŒÎ±ÏƒÏ„Î”ÎŻ. Î•ÎŻÏ‡Î±ÎŒÎ” Ï€ÎŹÏÎ± Ï€ÎżÎ»Î»ÎŹ τΔχΜÎčÎșÎŹ Ï€ÏÎżÎČÎ»ÎźÎŒÎ±Ï„Î± ÎłÎčα έΜαΜ Ï€Î”ÏÎŻÏ€ÎżÏ… Ï‡ÏÏŒÎœÎż, ΌέχρÎč Ï€ÎżÏ… τΔλÎčÎșÎŹ τα ÎŸÎ”Ï€Î”ÏÎŹÏƒÎ±ÎŒÎ”. Î Î”ÏÎŹÏƒÎ±ÎŒÎ” τα ÎŽÏÎż Ï„Î”Î»Î”Ï…Ï„Î±ÎŻÎ± χρόΜÎčα ÎłÏÎŹÏ†ÎżÎœÏ„Î±Ï‚ ÎŒÎżÏ…ÏƒÎčÎșÎź ÎłÎčα Ï„Îż ÎœÎ­Îż Όας ÎŹÎ»ÎŒÏ€ÎżÏ…ÎŒ, αλλΏ ÎșÎŹÎœÎ±ÎŒÎ” ÎșαÎč ÎșÎŹÏ€ÎżÎčα remix ÎșαÎč Ï‡ÎŹÏÎ”Ï‚ ÎłÎčα ÎŹÎ»Î»ÎżÏ…Ï‚, όπως Ï„Îż remix ÏƒÏ„Îż project Slag Boom Van Loon Ï„ÎżÏ… Mike Paradinas (σ.τ.σ. -ÎșÎ±Ï„ÎŹ ÎșÏŒÏƒÎŒÎżÎœ ÎŒ-Zjq). ΀ότΔ Î±Ï€ÎżÏ†Î±ÏƒÎŻÏƒÎ±ÎŒÎ” Μα ΌηΜ ÎșÎŹÎœÎżÏ…ÎŒÎ” Ώλλα remix Îź ÏƒÏ…ÎœÎ”ÏÎłÎ±ÏƒÎŻÎ”Ï‚ ÏƒÏ„Îż ÎŒÎ­Î»Î»ÎżÎœ ÎłÎčÎ±Ï„ÎŻ όλα Î±Ï…Ï„ÎŹ Î±Ï€ÎżÏÏÎżÏ†ÎżÏÎœ Ï€ÎżÎ»ÏÏ„ÎčÎŒÎż Ï‡ÏÏŒÎœÎż πoυ Ï€ÏÎżÏ„ÎčÎŒÎŹÎŒÎ” Μα αΟÎčÎżÏ€ÎżÎčÎżÏÎŒÎ” ÎłÏÎŹÏ†ÎżÎœÏ„Î±Ï‚ Ï„ÎżÏ…Ï‚ ÎŽÎčÎșÎżÏÏ‚ Όας ÎŽÎŻÏƒÎșÎżÏ…Ï‚. ΕπÎčÏ€Î»Î­ÎżÎœ, ÎșυÎșÎ»ÎżÏ†ÎżÏÎźÏƒÎ±ÎŒÎ” ÎșαÎč ÎŽÏÎż ΕΡ, Ï„Îż In Α Beautiful Place Out In The Country ÎșαÎč Ï„Îż John Peel session.
F.P.: ΓÎčα σας Ï€ÎżÎčΔς ÎźÏ„Î±Îœ ÎżÎč πÎčÎż σηΌαΜτÎčÎșές ÎŽÎčÎ±Ï†ÎżÏÎ­Ï‚ Î±ÎœÎŹÎŒÎ”ÏƒÎ± ÏƒÏ„Îż Music Has The Right ΀ο Children ÎșαÎč Ï„Îż Geogaddi?
Mike: ÎŁÏ„Îż Geogaddi χρησÎčÎŒÎżÏ€ÎżÎčÎźÏƒÎ±ÎŒÎ” Ï€ÎżÎ»Î»ÎżÏÏ‚ Ï€Î±ÏÎ±ÎŒÎżÏÏ†Ï‰ÎŒÎ­ÎœÎżÏ…Ï‚ ÎźÏ‡ÎżÏ…Ï‚ ÎłÎčα Μα Ï€Î”Ï„ÏÏ‡ÎżÏ…ÎŒÎ” έΜα πÎčÎż "ÎłÎ”ÎœÎčÎșÎ”Ï…ÎŒÎ­ÎœÎż" ÎźÏ‡Îż ÏŒÏ€ÎżÏ… τα ΔπÎčÎŒÎ­ÏÎżÏ…Ï‚ ÏƒÏ„ÎżÎčÏ‡Î”ÎŻÎ± ÎźÏ„Î±Îœ λÎčÎłÏŒÏ„Î”ÏÎż σηΌαΜτÎčÎșÎŹ. Η ÎčΎέα ÎźÏ„Î±Îœ Μα ÎșÎŹÎœÎżÏ…ÎŒÎ” Ï„ÎżÏ…Ï‚ ÎźÏ‡ÎżÏ…Ï‚ Όη Î±ÎœÎ±ÎłÎœÏ‰ÏÎŻÏƒÎčÎŒÎżÏ…Ï‚, ÎșαÎč ÎłÎčα Ï€Î±ÏÎŹÎŽÎ”ÎčÎłÎŒÎ± Î”ÎŻÎœÎ±Îč ÎșÎŹÏ€ÎżÎčα ÏƒÎ·ÎŒÎ”ÎŻÎ± Ï€ÎżÏ… ΎΔΜ ÎŒÏ€ÎżÏÎ”ÎŻÏ‚ Μα ÎŽÎčαÎșÏÎŻÎœÎ”Îčς αΜ αÎșÎżÏÏ‚ Ï†Î»ÎŹÎżÏ…Ï„Îż, Ï†Ï‰ÎœÎź Îź synthesizer. ÎŁÏ„Îż Ï€ÏÎżÎ·ÎłÎżÏÎŒÎ”ÎœÎż album ÏƒÏ…ÎłÎșΔΜτρωΜόΌαστΔ πΔρÎčÏƒÏƒÏŒÏ„Î”ÏÎż σΔ απλές ΌΔλωΎÎčÎșές ÎłÏÎ±ÎŒÎŒÎ­Ï‚ από synthesizers ÎșαÎč σΔ ÎŒÎčÎșÏÎżÏÏ‚ ÎŒÎ”ÎŒÎżÎœÏ‰ÎŒÎ­ÎœÎżÏ…Ï‚ ÎźÏ‡ÎżÏ…Ï‚. ΉταΜ πÎčÎż ÎŒÎčÎœÎčΌαλÎčστÎčÎșός ÎșαÎč αραÎčός ÎźÏ‡ÎżÏ‚ ÎșαÎč η αλΟΞΔÎčα Î”ÎŻÎœÎ±Îč ότÎč έτσÎč αÎșÎżÏ…ÎłÏŒÎŒÎ±ÏƒÏ„Î” ÏƒÏ…ÎœÎźÎžÏ‰Ï‚. πÎčÎż πρόσφατα, όΌως, ÎČÏÎźÎșα Ï„ÎżÎœ Δαυτό ÎŒÎżÏ… Μα Ï€ÏÎżÏƒÏ€Î±ÎžÎ”ÎŻ Μα Ï€Î±ÎłÎčΎΔύσΔÎč ΌΔρÎčÎșÎżÏÏ‚ από Ï„ÎżÏ…Ï‚ Ï€Î”ÏÎŻÎ”ÏÎłÎżÏ…Ï‚ ÎźÏ‡ÎżÏ…Ï‚ Ï€ÎżÏ… αÎșÎżÏÏ‰ όταΜ ÎżÎœÎ”ÎčÏÎ”ÏÎżÎŒÎ±Îč, ÎźÏ‡ÎżÎč Ï€ÎżÏ… ΎΔΜ ÎŒÏ€ÎżÏÏŽ Μα Ï„ÎżÏ…Ï‚ Î±ÎœÎ±ÎłÎœÏ‰ÏÎŻÏƒÏ‰ στη Ï‡ÏÎżÎčÎŹ ΔΜός ÎŒÎżÏ…ÏƒÎčÎșÎżÏ ÎżÏÎłÎŹÎœÎżÏ…, ÎșαÎč ÎœÎżÎŒÎŻÎ¶Ï‰ ότÎč ÏƒÏ„Îż Geogaddi Ï„Îż ÎșαταφέραΌΔ.
F.ÎĄ.: ΠότΔ ÎșαταλαÎČÎ±ÎŻÎœÎ”Ï„Î” ότÎč έΜα ÎșÎżÎŒÎŒÎŹÏ„Îč σας έχΔÎč Î±ÎłÎłÎŻÎŸÎ”Îč τηΜ τΔλΔÎčότητα;
Marcus: ΔΔ ÎłÎœÏ‰ÏÎŻÎ¶Ï‰ αΜ Ï…Ï€ÎŹÏÏ‡Î”Îč έΜα ÏƒÎ·ÎŒÎ”ÎŻÎż ÏŒÏ€ÎżÏ… έΜα ÎșÎżÎŒÎŒÎŹÏ„Îč Î”ÎŻÎœÎ±Îč τέλΔÎčÎż. Î„Ï€ÎżÎžÎ­Ï„Ï‰ ότÎč αυτό συΌÎČÎ±ÎŻÎœÎ”Îč όταΜ Ï†Ï„ÎŹÏƒÎ”Îčς Ï„Îż ÏƒÎ·ÎŒÎ”ÎŻÎż ÏŒÏ€ÎżÏ… Î±ÎłÎ±Ï€ÎŹÏ‚ Ï„ÎżÎœ ÎźÏ‡Îż Ï„ÎżÏ… ÎșÎżÎŒÎŒÎ±Ï„ÎčÎżÏ ÏƒÎżÏ… ÎșαÎč ÎœÎżÎŒÎŻÎ¶Î”Îčς πως ÎżÏ„ÎčÎŽÎźÏ€ÎżÏ„Î” ÎșαÎč Μα Ï€ÏÎżÏƒÎžÎ­ÏƒÎ”Îčς Îź Μα αφαÎčρέσΔÎčς Ξα Ï„Îż ÎșαταστρέψΔÎč. ΀ότΔ ÎŻÏƒÏ‰Ï‚ Μα Î”ÎŻÎœÎ±Îč τέλΔÎčÎż. Î”ÎŻÎŒÎ±Îč Î”Ï…Ï„Ï…Ï‡ÎźÏ‚ όταΜ ÎŒÏ€ÎżÏÏŽ Μα τΔλΔÎčώσω έΜα ÎșÎżÎŒÎŒÎŹÏ„Îč Όέσα σΔ ÎŒÎčα Όέρα, αλλΏ ΌΔρÎčÎșές Ï†ÎżÏÎ­Ï‚ ÎșυρÎčÎ”ÏÎżÎŒÎ±Îč από ÎŒÎ±ÎœÎŻÎ± ÎłÎčα ÎșÎŹÏ€ÎżÎčα ÏƒÏ…ÎłÎșΔÎșρÎčΌέΜα ÏƒÎ·ÎŒÎ”ÎŻÎ± ΔΜός ÎșÎżÎŒÎŒÎ±Ï„ÎčÎżÏ ÎșαÎč αυτό ÎŒÏ€ÎżÏÎ”ÎŻ Μα ÎŒÎżÏ… Ï€ÎŹÏÎ”Îč ΔÎČÎŽÎżÎŒÎŹÎŽÎ”Ï‚. Î‘Ï…Ï„Îź τηΜ Î”Ï€ÎżÏ‡Îź Ï€ÎŹÎœÏ„Ï‰Ï‚ Ï€ÏÎżÏƒÏ€Î±ÎžÏŽ Μα ÎłÏÎŹÏ†Ï‰ πΔρÎčσσότΔρη ÎŒÎżÏ…ÏƒÎčÎșÎź αλλΏ Μα ÎŸÎżÎŽÎ”ÏÏ‰ λÎčÎłÏŒÏ„Î”ÏÎż Ï‡ÏÏŒÎœÎż σΔ ÎșΏΞΔ ÎșÎżÎŒÎŒÎŹÏ„Îč, ÎłÎčÎ±Ï„ÎŻ Οέρω ότÎč τότΔ Î”ÎŻÎœÎ±Îč Ï€ÎżÏ… ÎżÎč ÎŒÎżÏ…ÏƒÎčÎșοί ÎșÎŹÎœÎżÏ…Îœ τηΜ ÎșαλύτΔρη ÎŽÎżÏ…Î»Î”ÎčÎŹ Ï„ÎżÏ…Ï‚.
F.P.: Από Ï€ÎżÏ Î±ÎœÏ„Î»ÎżÏÎœ τηΜ Î­ÎŒÏ€ÎœÎ”Ï…ÏƒÎź Ï„ÎżÏ…Ï‚ ÎżÎč Boards Of Canada;
Μike: ÎˆÏ‡ÎżÏ…ÎŒÎ” τÎčς ÎŻÎŽÎčΔς ΔπÎčÏÏÎżÎ­Ï‚. ΚαΞώς ÎźÎŒÎ±ÏƒÏ„Î±Îœ Î±ÎŒÎżÎčÎČÎŹÎŽÎ”Ï‚ στÎčς αρχές της ΎΔÎșÎ±Î”Ï„ÎŻÎ±Ï‚ Ï„ÎżÏ… '70 αÎșÎżÏÏƒÎ±ÎŒÎ” Ï€ÎŹÏÎ± Ï€ÎżÎ»Ï ÎŒÎżÏ…ÏƒÎčÎșÎź, αλλΏ n ÎŒÎ”ÎłÎ±Î»ÏÏ„Î”ÏÎ· Î”Ï€ÎŻÎŽÏÎ±ÏƒÎź Î”ÎŻÎœÎ±Îč ταÎčÎœÎŻÎ”Ï‚ ÎșαÎč ÎČÎčÎČλία ÎșαΞώς Î”Ï€ÎŻÏƒÎ·Ï‚ ÎșαÎč παλÎčότΔρη pop ÎŒÎżÏ…ÏƒÎčÎșÎź από τα '60s ÎșαÎč τα '70s. Μας αρέσΔÎč η ÎŒÎżÏ…ÏƒÎčÎșÎź της τηλΔόρασης από τη ΎΔÎșÎ±Î”Ï„ÎŻÎ± Ï„ÎżÏ… '70 Îșατ Ï„ÎżÏ… '80, όπως τα τζÎčÎłÎșλΏÎșÎčα Ï€ÎżÏ… Ï€Î­Ï†Ï„ÎżÏ…Îœ ÏƒÏ„Îż Ï„Î­Î»ÎżÏ‚ τωΜ ΔÎșÏ€ÎżÎŒÏ€ÏŽÎœ της αΌΔρÎčÎșÎŹÎœÎčÎșης τηλΔόρασης. Î Î±ÎŻÏÎœÏ‰ Ï€ÎżÎ»Î»Îź έΌπΜΔυση από ταÎčÎœÎŻÎ”Ï‚, ÎčÎŽÎčÎ±ÎŻÏ„Î”ÏÎ± από ΔÎșÎ”ÎŻÎœÎ”Ï‚ τÎčς Ï€Î±ÏÎ±ÎœÎżÏŠÎșές Î”Î»Î”ÏÎžÎ”ÏÎżÏ… ÏÏ†ÎżÏ…Ï‚ ταÎčÎœÎŻÎ”Ï‚ τωΜ τΔλώΜ της ΎΔÎșÎ±Î”Ï„ÎŻÎ±Ï‚ Ï„ÎżÎœ '70 Îșατ τωΜ αρχώΜ της ΎΔÎșÎ±Î”Ï„ÎŻÎ±Ï‚ Ï„ÎżÏ… '80. Î•Ï€ÎŻÏƒÎ·Ï‚ Όας Î­Ï‡ÎżÏ…Îœ Î”Ï€Î·ÏÎ”ÎŹÏƒÎ”Îč ÎČαΞÎčÎŹ ÎșÎŹÏ€ÎżÎčα ÎœÏ„ÎżÎșÎčΌαΜτέρ, τα ÎșÎčÎœÎżÏÎŒÎ”ÎœÎ± σχέΎÎčα ÎșαÎč ÎżÎč ΔÎșÏ€ÎżÎŒÏ€Î­Ï‚ ΔΜηΌέρωσης Ï„ÎżÏ… Ï€ÎżÎ»ÎŻÏ„Î·. ΔÎčαÎČÎŹÎ¶Ï‰ ÏƒÎżÎČÎ±ÏÎź ΔπÎčÏƒÏ„Î·ÎŒÎżÎœÎčÎșÎź Ï†Î±ÎœÏ„Î±ÏƒÎŻÎ± Îșατ Ï€ÏÎżÏƒÏ€Î±ÎžÏŽ Μα φαΜταστώ Ï„ÎżÏ…Ï‚ ÎźÏ‡ÎżÏ…Ï‚ Ï€ÎżÏ… ταÎčρÎčÎŹÎ¶ÎżÏ…Îœ στÎčς σÎșηΜές Ï€ÎżÏ… πΔρÎčÎłÏÎŹÏ†ÎżÎœÏ„Î±Îč. ÎŁÎŻÎłÎżÏ…ÏÎ± αυτό Î±Ï€ÎżÏ„Î”Î»Î”ÎŻ Ï„ÏÎżÏ†Îź Îșατ ÎłÎčα τπ ÎŒÎżÏ…ÏƒÎčÎșÎź Ï€ÎżÏ… ÎłÏÎŹÏ†Ï‰.
F.P.: Πώς ΔπÎčÎ»Î­ÎłÎ”Ï„Î” Ï„ÎżÏ…Ï‚ Ï„ÎŻÏ„Î»ÎżÏ…Ï‚ τωΜ ÎŽÎŻÏƒÎșωΜ ÎșαÎč τωΜ ÎșÎżÎŒÎŒÎ±Ï„ÎčώΜ σας; ΣΔ Ï€ÎżÎčÎż ÎČαΞΌό Î±Ï…Ï„ÎżÎŻ ÎżÎč Ï„ÎŻÏ„Î»ÎżÎč Î±ÎœÎ±Ï†Î­ÏÎżÎœÏ„Î±Îč στη ÎŒÎżÏ…ÏƒÎčÎșÎź σας. H ÎżÎœÎżÎŒÎ±ÏƒÏ„ÎčÎșÎź Î±Ï€ÏŒÎŽÎżÏƒÎ· της ÎŒÎżÏ…ÏƒÎčÎșÎźÏ‚ ΎΔΜ πΔρÎčÎżÏÎŻÎ¶Î”Îč Ï€ÎżÎ»Î»Î­Ï‚ Ï†ÎżÏÎ­Ï‚ τηΜ ÎčÎșαΜότητα Ï„ÎżÏ… αÎșÏÎżÎ±Ï„Îź Μα ΎηΌÎčÎżÏ…ÏÎłÎ”ÎŻ τα ÎŽÎčÎșÎŹ Ï„ÎżÏ… ÏƒÎ”ÎœÎŹÏÎčα Îșατ τÎčς ÎŽÎčÎșές Ï„ÎżÏ… Î­ÎœÎœÎżÎčΔς, όταΜ αÎșÎżÏÎ”Îč τη ÎŒÎżÏ…ÏƒÎčÎșÎź;
Marcus: Î•ÎŻÎœÎ±Îč σηΌαΜτÎčÎșό Îœ' Î±Ï†ÎźÎœÏ‰ έΜαΜ ÎČαΞΌό αΌφÎčÏƒÎ·ÎŒÎŻÎ±Ï‚ σ' Î±Ï…Ï„ÎŹ τα Ï€ÏÎŹÎłÎŒÎ±Ï„Î±, ÎłÎčÎ±Ï„ÎŻ αυτό Ï€ÎżÏ… Îż αÎșÏÎżÎ±Ï„ÎźÏ‚ ÎŒÏ€ÎżÏÎ”ÎŻ Μα Ï†Î±ÎœÏ„Î±ÏƒÏ„Î”ÎŻ Î”ÎŻÎœÎ±Îč Ï€ÎŹÎœÏ„Î± πÎčÎż ΎυΜατό απ' αυτό Ï€ÎżÏ… ÎŒÏ€ÎżÏÎ”ÎŻÏ‚ Μα Ï„ÎżÏ… ΎώσΔÎčς στηΜ Ï€ÏÎ±ÎłÎŒÎ±Ï„ÎčÎșότητα. Î ÏÎżÏƒÎ”ÎłÎłÎŻÎ¶ÎżÏ…ÎŒÎ” Ï„ÎżÎœ ÎșΏΞΔ Όας Ï„ÎŻÏ„Î»Îż ÎŽÎčÎ±Ï†ÎżÏÎ”Ï„ÎčÎșÎŹ. ÎšÎŹÏ€ÎżÎčΔς Ï†ÎżÏÎ­Ï‚ ÎŒÏ€ÎżÏÎ”ÎŻ Μα Î”ÎŻÎœÎ±Îč ÎșÎŹÏ„Îč Ï„ÏŒÏƒÎż απλό ÏŒÏƒÎż Ï„Îż ÏŒÎœÎżÎŒÎ± Ï„ÎżÏ… Ï€ÏÎżÏƒÏŽÏ€ÎżÏ… Ï€ÎżÏ… αÎșÎżÏÎłÎ”Ï„Î±Îč n Ï†Ï‰ÎœÎź Ï„ÎżÏ… ÏƒÏ„Îż ÎșÎżÎŒÎŒÎŹÏ„Îč, Îź ÎŒÏ€ÎżÏÎ”ÎŻ Μα Î”ÎŻÎœÎ±Îč ÎŒÎčα Ï€Î±ÏÎ±Ï€ÎżÎčηΌέΜη Ï†ÏÎŹÏƒÎ· Ï€ÎżÏ… ÎșÎŹÏ€ÎżÎčÎżÏ‚ αΜτÎčÎ»ÎźÏ†ÎžÎ·ÎșΔ ÎșαΞώς ÎźÏ„Î±Îœ ÎŒÎ”ÎžÏ…ÏƒÎŒÎ­ÎœÎżÏ‚ Îź ÎŒÎ±ÏƒÏ„ÎżÏ…ÏÏ‰ÎŒÎ­ÎœÎżÏ‚. ΟÎč Ï€Î±ÏÎ±Ï€ÎżÎčηΌέΜΔς Ï†ÏÎŹÏƒÎ”Îčς Î­Ï‡ÎżÏ…Îœ χρησÎčÎŒÎżÏ€ÎżÎčηΞΔί αρÎșΔτές Ï†ÎżÏÎ­Ï‚ ÎłÎčÎ±Ï„ÎŻ ÎŒÎčα Ï„Î­Ï„ÎżÎčα Ï†ÏÎŹÏƒÎ· Î”ÎŸÎŹÏ€Ï„Î”Îč τηΜ έΌπΜΔυση Îșατ Ï€ÏÎżÎșαλΔί συΜαÎčÏƒÎžÎźÎŒÎ±Ï„Î±, ÎłÎŻÎœÎ”Ï„Î±Îč ÏƒÎżÏ…ÏÎ”Î±Î»ÎčστÎčÎșÎź Îșατ Ï€ÏÎżÏ„Î”ÎŻÎœÎ”Îč ÎŒÎčα ÏƒÏ…ÎłÏ‡Ï…ÏƒÎŒÎ­ÎœÎ·, ΔΜÎčσχυΌέΜη ÎŒÎżÏÏ†Îź της Ï€ÏÎ±ÎłÎŒÎ±Ï„ÎčÎșότητας. ÎšÎŹÏ€ÎżÎčΔς Ï†ÎżÏÎ­Ï‚ ÎŒÎŹÎ»Îčστα ÎČÎŹÎ¶ÎżÏ…ÎŒÎ” απόÎșÏÏ…Ï†ÎżÏ…Ï‚ Îșατ αÎčÎœÎčÎłÎŒÎ±Ï„ÎčÎșÎżÏÏ‚ Ï„ÎŻÏ„Î»ÎżÏ…Ï‚ στα ÎșÎżÎŒÎŒÎŹÏ„Îčα Όας, ÎłÎčÎ±Ï„ÎŻ Î”ÎŻÎŒÎ±ÏƒÏ„Î” Ï€Î”ÏÎŻÎ”ÏÎłÎżÎč αΜ ÎșÎŹÏ€ÎżÎčÎżÏ‚ Θα ÎșÎ±Ï„Î±Î»ÎŹÎČΔÎč σΔ τÎč Î±ÎœÎ±Ï†Î­ÏÎżÎœÏ„Î±Îč. ΈΜας Ï„ÎŻÏ„Î»ÎżÏ‚ ÎŒÏ€ÎżÏÎ”ÎŻ Μα ÎșÎŹÎœÎ”Îč τη ÎŒÎżÏ…ÏƒÎčÎșÎź Μα αÎșÎżÏÎłÎ”Ï„Î±Îč ΌΔ ΔΜτΔλώς ÎŽÎčÎ±Ï†ÎżÏÎ”Ï„ÎčÎșό Ï„ÏÏŒÏ€Îż Îșατ αυτό ÎŒÏ€ÎżÏÎ”ÎŻ Μα Î±Ï€ÎżÎČΔί ÏƒÏ€ÎżÏ…ÎŽÎ±ÎŻÎż Ï€ÏÎŹÎłÎŒÎ±, αΜ έχΔÎč ÎłÎŻÎœÎ”Îč ΌΔ Ï€ÏÎżÏƒÎżÏ‡Îź.
F.P.: Πώς ÏƒÏ…ÎœÎŽÎ­ÎżÎœÏ„Î±Îč τα ÎżÏ€Ï„ÎčÎșÎŹ Ï€ÎżÏ… χρησÎčÎŒÎżÏ€ÎżÎčÎ”ÎŻÏ„Î” στÎčς ÏƒÏ…ÎœÎ±Ï…Î»ÎŻÎ”Ï‚ σας ΌΔ τη ÎŒÎżÏ…ÏƒÎčÎșÎź Ï€ÎżÏ… Ï€Î±ÎŻÎ¶Î”Ï„Î”; Î„Ï€ÎŹÏÏ‡ÎżÏ…Îœ ÎșÎŹÏ€ÎżÎčα ΌηΜύΌατα Ï€ÎżÏ… ΘέλΔτΔ Μα ΌΔταΎώσΔτΔ Ï€ÎŻÏƒÏ‰ από τÎčς ΔÎčÎșόΜΔς αυτές;
Mike: ÎœÎżÏ… αρέσΔÎč Îż ÎșÏŒÏƒÎŒÎżÏ‚ Μα ÏƒÏ‡Î·ÎŒÎ±Ï„ÎŻÎ¶Î”Îč τÎčς ÎŽÎčÎșές Ï„ÎżÏ… απόψΔÎčς ÎłÎčα Ï„Îż τÎč ÏƒÎ·ÎŒÎ±ÎŻÎœÎ”Îč n ÎŒÎżÏ…ÏƒÎčÎșÎź Îșατ Ï„Îż ÎŻÎŽÎčÎż ÎčσχύΔÎč ÎșαÎč ÎłÎčα τα ÎżÏ€Ï„ÎčÎșÎŹ, ÎłÎč' αυτό ÎșατασÎșÎ”Ï…ÎŹÎ¶ÎżÏ…ÎŒÎ” Î±ÎŒÏ†ÎŻÏƒÎ·ÎŒÎ”Ï‚ ΔÎčÎșόΜΔς παΜ Ï…Ï€ÎżÎœÎżÎżÏÎœ ÏƒÏ…ÎłÎșΔÎșρÎčΌέΜα Ï€ÏÎŹÎłÎŒÎ±Ï„Î±. ÎŁÏ…ÎœÎźÎžÏ‰Ï‚ φτÎčÎŹÏ‡ÎœÎżÏ…ÎŒÎ” αρÎșÎ”Ï„ÎŹ αφηρηΌέΜΔς ΔÎčÎșόΜΔς, ΌΔ Î»ÎżÏÏ€Î”Ï‚ από ÎșÎčÎœÎżÏÎŒÎ”ÎœÎ± σχέΎÎčα ÎșαÎč Î¶ÎżÏ†Î”ÏÎŹ ÎșλÎčÏ€ÎŹÎșÎčα από ΞλÎčΌΌέΜΔς στÎčÎłÎŒÎ­Ï‚. ΜΔ Ï„ÎżÎœ ÎŻÎŽÎčÎż Ï„ÏÏŒÏ€ÎżÏ… Ï€ÎżÏ… έΜα ÎșÎżÎŒÎŒÎŹÏ„Îč ÎŒÏ€ÎżÏÎ”ÎŻ Μα έχΔÎč ÎŒÎčα Ï†Ï‰ÎœÎź ÎșαÎč o αÎșÏÎżÎ±Ï„ÎźÏ‚ Μα ΌηΜ Î±ÎœÎ±ÎłÎœÏ‰ÏÎŻÎ¶Î”Îč τo τÎč αÎșρÎčÎČώς λέΔÎč n Ï†Ï‰ÎœÎź, ΌΔ αυτό Ï„ÎżÎœ Ï„ÏÏŒÏ€Îż Όας αρέσΔÎč vα ΧρησÎčÎŒÎżÏ€ÎżÎčÎżÏÎŒÎ” αφηρηΌέΜΔς ΔÎčÎșόΜΔς ΌΔ Î»Î”Ï€Ï„ÎŹ Îź Ï…Ï€ÎżÏƒÏ…ÎœÎ”ÎŻÎŽÎ·Ï„Î± Îșόλπα. Πρόσφατα χρησÎčÎŒÎżÏ€ÎżÎčÎźÏƒÎ±ÎŒÎ” ΔÎčÎșόΜΔς Ï€ÎżÏ… Ï€Î±ÎŻÏÎœÎżÏ…Îœ έΜα ΞέΌα ÎșαÎč ÎșÎŹÎœÎżÎœÏ„Î±Ï‚ Ï€Î”ÏÎŻÎ”ÏÎłÎżÏ…Ï‚ ÎŽÎ”ÏƒÎŒÎżÏÏ‚ Î±ÎœÎŹÎŒÎ”ÏƒÎ± στηΜ τέχΜη, τη ÎłÎ”Ï‰ÎŒÎ”Ï„ÏÎŻÎ±, τα ΌαΞηΌατÎčÎșÎŹ ÎșαÎč τη ΞρησÎșΔία. Î‘Î»Î»ÎŹÎ¶ÎżÏ…ÎŒÎ” Ï€ÎŹÎœÏ„Î± τo concept Όας ÎșΏΞΔ Ï†ÎżÏÎŹ Ï€ÎżÏ… ÎČÎłÎŹÎ¶ÎżÏ…ÎŒÎ” έΜαΜ ÎșαÎčÎœÎżÏÏÎłÎčÎż ÎŽÎŻÏƒÎșÎż.
F.P.: ΠοÎčÎżÎč Î”ÎŻÎœÎ±Îč ÎżÎč Î±ÎłÎ±Ï€Î·ÎŒÎ­ÎœÎżÎč σας ÎŽÎŻÏƒÎșÎżÎč όλωΜ τωΜ Î”Ï€ÎżxώΜ;
Marcus: Θα ÎŒÏ€ÎżÏÎżÏÏƒÎ± Μα ÏƒÎżÏ… απαΜτώ ÎłÎčα Ï€ÎŹÎœÏ„Î±, αλλΏ τα ÎșÎżÏÏ…Ï†Î±ÎŻÎ± τωΜ ÎșÎżÏÏ…Ï†Î±ÎŻÏ‰Îœ Î”ÎŻÎœÎ±Îč ÎłÎčα ΌέΜα τα Loveless από Îč Ï„ÎżÏ…Ï‚ My Bloody Valentine, New Traditionalists από Ï„ÎżÏ…Ï‚ Devo, Pet Sounds τωΜ Beach Boys, Heaven or Las Vegas r ÎșαÎč Blue Bell Knoll τωΜ Cocteau Twins ÎșαÎč Ï„Îż 20 Mothers Ï„ÎżÏ… Julian Cope.
Mike: H Î±Ï€ÎŹÎœÏ„Î·ÏƒÎź ÎŒÎżÏ… Ξα ΏλλαζΔ από ÎșαÎčρό σΔ ÎșαÎčρό, αλλΏ ÎłÎčα τηΜ ώρα Ξα έλΔγα τα Garlands τωΜ Cocteau Twins, Geno τωΜ Dexy's Midnight Runners, ÎżÏ„ÎčÎŽÎźÏ€ÎżÏ„Î” από τηΜ Wendy Carlos, Clouds της Joni Mitchell, I Don't Know Why I Love You Ï„ÎżÏ… Stevie Wonder...
F.P.: ΑÎșÎżÏÎłÎżÎœÏ„Î±Ï‚ Ï„ÎżÏ…Ï‚ Boards Of Canada ÎœÎčώΞω σαΜ Μα ÎŸÎ±ÎœÎ±ÎłÎŻÎœoΌαÎč παÎčÎŽÎŻ. Πώς ÎżÎč ΔΌπΔÎčÏÎŻÎ”Ï‚ Ï„ÎżÎœ Ï€Î±ÏÎ”Î»ÎžÏŒÎœÏ„ÎżÏ‚ Ï†ÎżÏÏ„ÎŻÎ¶ÎżÏ…Îœ Ï„Îż ÎŽÎčÎșό σας υλÎčÎșό;
Mike: Μας αρέσΔÎč Μα Ï€Î±ÎŻÎ¶ÎżÏ…ÎŒÎ” ΌΔ τÎčς ΔÎčÎșόΜΔς ÎșαÎč τÎčς Î±ÎœÎ±ÎŒÎœÎźÏƒÎ”Îčς της παÎčÎŽÎčÎșÎźÏ‚ ηλÎčÎșÎŻÎ±Ï‚, Î”ÎŻÎœÎ±Îč ÎșαλΟ Ï€Î·ÎłÎź έΌπΜΔυσης, ÎłÎčÎ±Ï„ÎŻ ÏŒÎ»ÎżÎč Όας Ï…Ï€ÎźÏÎŸÎ±ÎŒÎ” ÎșÎŹÏ€ÎżÏ„Î” παÎčÎŽÎčÎŹ, ÎșαÎč ÏŒÎ»ÎżÎč Όας Î­Ï‡ÎżÏ…ÎŒÎ” Ï‡ÎŹÏƒÎ”Îč Î±Ï…Ï„ÎŹ Ï„Îż ÎŒÎ­ÏÎżÏ‚ της Î¶Ï‰ÎźÏ‚ Όας. ÎŁÏ‡Î”ÎŽÏŒÎœ όλη n pop ÎŒÎżÏ…ÏƒÎčÎșÎź ÎČÎ±ÏƒÎŻÎ¶Î”Ï„Î±Îč σΔ Î”Ï€ÎŻÎșαÎčρα ΞέΌατα ÎșαÎč σΔ Î”Ï€ÎŻÎșαÎčρα ΔΜΎÎčÎ±Ï†Î­ÏÎżÎœÏ„Î± τωΜ Î”ÎœÎ·Î»ÎŻÎșωΜ, αλλΏ Ï„Îż πΔρÎčÏƒÏƒÏŒÏ„Î”ÏÎż απ αυτό Ï„Îż υλÎčÎșό ΌΔ Î±Ï†ÎźÎœÎ”Îč ΏΎΔÎčÎż ÎșαÎč αΎÎčÎŹÏ†ÎżÏÎż. Θέλω π ÎŒÎżÏ…ÏƒÎčÎșÎź Μα ΌΔ ÎșÎŹÎœÎ”Îč Μα ÎœÎčώΞω ΞλÎčÎŒÎŒÎ­ÎœÎżÏ‚, Ξέλω n ÎŒÎżÏ…ÏƒÎčÎșÎź Μα ΌΔ ÎșÎŹÎœÎ”Îč Μα ÎœÎčώΞω ÎżÏ„ÎčÎŽÎźÏ€ÎżÏ„Î”. ΓÎč' αυτό στη ÎŽÎčÎșÎź ÎŒÎżÏ… ÎŒÎżÏ…ÏƒÎčÎșÎź αΜασύρω ÎŒÎœÎźÎŒÎ”Ï‚, ÎșÎŹÏ€ÎżÎčΔς Îșαλές ÎșαÎč ÎșÎŹÏ€ÎżÎčΔς Ï„ÏÎ±ÎłÎčÎșές. Î•Ï€ÎŻÏƒÎ·Ï‚ πÎčστΔύω ότÎč, ÏŒÏƒÎż Î”ÎŻÏƒÎ±Îč ÎœÎ­ÎżÏ‚, ÎŒÏ€ÎżÏÎ”ÎŻÏ‚ Μα έχΔÎčς Ï€Î”ÏÎŻÎ”ÏÎłÎ”Ï‚ ÎčΎέΔς ÎșαÎč ΔΟΔζητηΌέΜΔς σÎșέψΔÎčς ÏƒÏ„Îż Όυαλό ÏƒÎżÏ…, αλλΏ ÎșαΞώς ÎŒÎ”ÎłÎ±Î»ÏŽÎœÎ”Îčς όλα Î±Ï…Ï„ÎŹ Î±Ï€Ï‰ÎžÎżÏÎœÏ„Î±Îč ÎșαÎč ÎŒÏ€Î±ÎŻÎœÎżÏ…Îœ ÏƒÏ„Îż Ï…Ï€ÎżÏƒÏ…ÎœÎ”ÎŻÎŽÎ·Ï„Îż. Ίσως Ï€ÏÎżÏƒÏ€Î±ÎžÎżÏÎŒÎ” Μα ÎŸÎ±ÎœÎ±Ï€Î±ÎłÎčÎŽÎ”ÏÏƒÎżÏ…ÎŒÎ” αυτές τÎčς ÎčΎέΔς ÎłÏÎŹÏ†ÎżÎœÏ„Î±Ï‚ τη ÎŒÎżÏ…ÏƒÎčÎșÎź Όας. Î ÏÎżÏƒÏ€Î±ÎžÎżÏÎŒÎ” Μα ΌΔταΌφÎčÎ­ÏƒÎżÏ…ÎŒÎ” ÎșÎŹÏ„Îč Ï€ÎżÎ»ÏÏ€Î»ÎżÎșÎż σΔ ÎșÎŹÏ„Îč απλό ÎșαÎč αφΔλές, ÎșαÎč ÎŻÏƒÏ‰Ï‚ όταΜ αÎșÎżÏÎ”Îč ÎșÎ±ÎœÎ”ÎŻÏ‚ τη ÎŒÎżÏ…ÏƒÎčÎșÎź Όας Μα Ï†Î±ÎœÏ„ÎŹÎ¶Î”Îč παÎčÎŽÎčÎșÎź Îź Î±Ï€Î»ÎżÏŠÎșÎź, αλλΏ αυτό ÎčσχύΔÎč ÎŒÏŒÎœÎż ÎłÎčα τηΜ ΔπÎčÏ†ÎŹÎœÎ”Îčα της ÎŒÎżÏ…ÏƒÎčÎșÎźÏ‚ Όας.
F.P.: Î„Ï€ÎŹÏÏ‡Î”Îč ÎșÎŹÏ„Îč Ï€ÎżÏ… Μα σας Î»Î”ÎŻÏ€Î”Îč από τÎčς πρώτΔς ΌέρΔς τωΜ Boards Of Canada, όταΜ ÎźÏƒÎ±ÏƒÏ„Î” ÎŒÎčα ΔυρύτΔρη ÎșαλλÎčτΔχΜÎčÎșÎź ÎșολΔÎșÏ„ÎŻÎČα Ï‡Ï‰ÏÎŻÏ‚ Î”Ï€ÎŻÏƒÎ·ÎŒÎ”Ï‚ ÎŽÎżÏ…Î»Î”Îčές;
Mike: ΝαÎč, ÎŒÎżÏ… Î»Î”ÎŻÏ€Î”Îč n Î±ÎœÏ‰ÎœÏ…ÎŒÎŻÎ±.
F.P.: Πώς ΔπÎčÏ„Ï…ÎłÏ‡ÎŹÎœÎ”Ï„Î” αυτόΜ Ï„ÎżÎœ Ï€ÎżÎ»Ï…ÎŽÎčÎŹÏƒÏ„Î±Ï„Îż Ï„ÏÏ€Îż ÎŒÎżÏ…ÏƒÎčÎșÎźÏ‚, ÏŒÏ€ÎżÏ… ÎżÎč αÎșÏÎżÎŹÏƒÎ”Îčς, όσΔς Îș1 αΜ Î”ÎŻÎœÎ±Îč, ΎΔΜ Ï‡ÎŹÎœÎżÏ…Îœ Ï€ÎżÏ„Î­ Ï„Îż ΔΜΎÎčÎ±Ï†Î­ÏÎżÎœ Ï„ÎżÏ…Ï‚;
Marcus: ΀α ÎșÎżÎŒÎŒÎŹÏ„Îčα Όας Î”ÎŻÎœÎ±Îč αρÎșÎ”Ï„ÎŹ ÎŒÎżÏ…ÏƒÎčÎșÎŹ. Î•ÎœÎœÎżÏŽ ότÎč Î”ÎŻÎŒÎ±ÏƒÏ„Î” πÎčÎż Îșαλοί ÎŒÎżÏ…ÏƒÎčÎșοί απ' αυτό Ï€ÎżÏ… ÎŒÏ€ÎżÏÎ”ÎŻ Μα Î±Ï€ÎżÎșαλύψΔÎč Ï„Îż ηχητÎčÎșό στυλ τωΜ Boards Of Canada, ÎșαÎč ÎŽÎŻÎœÎżÏ…ÎŒÎ” Ï„Î”ÏÎŹÏƒÏ„Îčα ÎČÎŹÏƒÎ· ÏƒÏ„Îż Μα ÎłÏÎŹÏ†ÎżÏ…ÎŒÎ” ÎŒÎ”Î»Ï‰ÎŽÎŻÎ”Ï‚ Ï€ÎżÏ… Î­Ï‡ÎżÏ…Îœ έΜαΜ ΔπαρÎșÎź ÎČαΞΌό συΜαÎčσΞηΌατÎčÎșÎźÏ‚ "Î±ÎœÎŹÎ»Ï…ÏƒÎ·Ï‚" Όέσα Ï„ÎżÏ…Ï‚. H ÎŒÎ±ÎłÎčÎșÎź "πέΌπτη Ï‡ÎżÏÎŽÎź". ΌταΜ ÏƒÏ…ÎœÎžÎ­Ï„ÎżÏ…ÎŒÎ” τα ÎșÎżÎŒÎŒÎŹÏ„Îčα Όας ÎžÎ­Î»ÎżÏ…ÎŒÎ” Μα πΔρÎčλαΌÎČÎŹÎœÎżÏ…Îœ Ï€ÏÎŹÎłÎŒÎ±Ï„Î± Ï€ÎżÏ… ΎΔΜ Î”ÎŻÎœÎ±Îč Ï€ÏÎżÏ†Î±ÎœÎź τÎčς πρώτΔς Ï†ÎżÏÎ­Ï‚ Ï€ÎżÏ… τα αÎșÎżÏÏ‚, ΈτσÎč ώστΔ ύστΔρα από αρÎșÎ”Ï„ÎŹ αÎșÎżÏÏƒÎŒÎ±Ï„Î± ÎŒÏ€ÎżÏÎ”ÎŻÏ‚ Μα ÎČÏÎŻÏƒÎșΔÎčς ÎźÏ‡ÎżÏ…Ï‚ ÎșαÎč ÎșρυΌΌέΜΔς ÎŒÎ”Î»Ï‰ÎŽÎŻÎ”Ï‚ Ï€ÎżÏ… ΎΔΜ Î”ÎŻÏ‡Î”Ï‚ Ï€Î±ÏÎ±Ï„Î·ÏÎźÏƒÎ”Îč ÎœÏ‰ÏÎŻÏ„Î”ÏÎ±. Î•Ï€ÎŻÏƒÎ·Ï‚ ÎłÏÎŹÏ†ÎżÏ…ÎŒÎ” Ï€ÎŹÏÎ± Ï€ÎżÎ»Î»ÎŹ ÎșÎżÎŒÎŒÎŹÏ„Îčα. ÎœÏŒÎœÎż Ï„Îż έΜα ΔÎčÎșÎżÏƒÏ„ÏŒ της ÎŽÎżÏ…Î»Î”ÎčÎŹÏ‚ Όας ÎČÏÎŻÏƒÎșΔ Ï„Îż ÎŽÏÏŒÎŒÎż Ï„ÎżÏ… Ï€ÏÎżÏ‚ τηΜ Î±ÎłÎżÏÎŹ ÎșαÎč ÎŒÏŒÎœÎż Î±Ï†ÎżÏ Î­Ï‡ÎżÏ…ÎŒÎ” ÎŽÎżÏ…Î»Î­ÏˆÎ”Îč Ï€ÎŹÎœÏ‰ Ï„ÎżÏ…Ï‚ ÎłÎčα ÎŒÎźÎœÎ”Ï‚, ÎŒÏŒÎœÎż τότΔ Î­Ï‡ÎżÏ…ÎŒÎ” ÎŒÎčα ÎșαλΟ ΔÎčÎșόΜα ÎłÎčα Ï€ÎżÎčα ÎșÎżÎŒÎŒÎŹÏ„Îčα Όας Î­Ï‡ÎżÏ…Îœ τηΜ πΔρÎčσσότΔρη Î±ÎœÏ„ÎżÏ‡Îź ÏƒÏ„Îż Ï‡ÏÏŒÎœÎż.
F.P.: ΀ο ÎœÎ­Îż ÎŹÎ»ÎŒÏ€ÎżÏ…ÎŒ Î”ÎŻÎœÎ±Îč ÎșÎŹÏ€Ï‰Ï‚ πÎčÎż σÎșÎżÏ„Î”ÎčΜό από Ï„Îż Music Has The Right ΀ο Children. ΀Îč σας ÎżÎŽÎźÎłÎ·ÏƒÎ” σ Î±Ï…Ï„Îź τηΜ αλλαγΟ ÎșατΔύΞυΜσης
Marcus: ΔΔΜ ÎźÏ„Î±Îœ στÎčς Ï€ÏÎżÎžÎ­ÏƒÎ”Îčς Όας Μα ÎłÏÎŹÏˆÎżÏ…ÎŒÎ” έΜα πÎčÎż σÎșÎżÏ„Î”ÎčΜό ÎŽÎŻÏƒÎșÎż. ÎÎżÎŒÎŻÎ¶Ï‰ ότÎč Îż ÎźÏ‡ÎżÏ‚ απλώς αΜταΜαÎșλΏ τη ÎŽÎčÎŹÎžÎ”ÏƒÎź Όας ÎșαΞώς Ï„ÎżÎœ Î·Ï‡ÎżÎłÏÎ±Ï†ÎżÏÏƒÎ±ÎŒÎ”. ÎÎżÎŒÎŻÎ¶Ï‰ ότÎč Î±ÏƒÏ…ÎœÎ”ÎŻÎŽÎ·Ï„Î± αΜτÎčÎŽÏÎŹÏƒÎ±ÎŒÎ” στηΜ Î±ÎŻÏƒÎžÎ·ÏƒÎ· Ï€ÎżÏ… Î”ÎŻÏ‡Î±ÎŒÎ” ότÎč Îż ÎźÏ‡ÎżÏ‚ Ï„ÎżÏ… Ï€ÏÎżÎ·ÎłÎżÏÎŒÎ”ÎœÎżÏ… ÎŽÎŻÏƒÎșÎżÏ… Όας ÎźÏ„Î±Îœ λίγο πÎčÎż Δλαφρύς απ' ότÎč Î”ÎŻÎŒÎ±ÏƒÏ„Î” στηΜ Ï€ÏÎ±ÎłÎŒÎ±Ï„ÎčÎșότητα ÎșαÎč Î”Ï€ÎŻÏƒÎ·Ï‚ αΜτÎčÎŽÏÎŹÏƒÎ±ÎŒÎ” σΔ ÏƒÏ…ÎłÎșΔÎșρÎčΌέΜΔς Ï€ÏÎżÏƒÏ‰Ï€ÎčÎșές, τραυΌατÎčÎșές ΔΌπΔÎčÏÎŻÎ”Ï‚ τωΜ Ï„Î”Î»Î”Ï…Ï„Î±ÎŻÏ‰Îœ χρόΜωΜ.
F.P.: Î•ÎŒÏ†Î±ÎœÎŻÎ¶Î”ÏƒÏ„Î” ÏƒÏ€ÎŹÎœÎčα Î¶Ï‰ÎœÏ„Î±ÎœÎŹ ÎșαÎč ΎΔΜ ΔπÎčÎșÎżÎčÎœÏ‰ÎœÎ”ÎŻÏ„Î” ΌΔ Ï„ÎżÏ…Ï‚ αÎșÏÎżÎ±Ï„Î­Ï‚ σας. Πώς Ï€Î±ÎŻÏÎœÎ”Ï„Î” feedback ÎłÎčα τη ÎŒÎżÏ…ÏƒÎčÎșÎź σας; Πως αΟÎčÎżÎ»ÎżÎłÎ”ÎŻÏ„Î” αυτό Ï„Îż feedback ÎșαÎč Ï€ÏŒÏƒÎż Ï„Îż Î±Ï†ÎźÎœÎ”Ï„Î” Μα Î”Ï€Î·ÏÎ”ÎŹÏƒÎ”Îč τη ÎŒÎżÏ…ÏƒÎčÎșÎź σας;
Mike: ÎŁÏ„Î·Îœ Ï€ÏÎ±ÎłÎŒÎ±Ï„ÎčÎșότητα Ï€ÏÎżÏƒÏ€Î±ÎžÎżÏÎŒÎ” Μα ΌηΜ Ï€Î±ÎŻÏÎœÎżÏ…ÎŒÎ” feedback. Î•ÎŻÎœÎ±Îč πÎčÎż ΔύÎșολο ÎłÎčα Î”ÎŒÎŹÏ‚ Μα ÎŽÎčασÎșÎ”ÎŽÎŹÎ¶ÎżÏ…ÎŒÎ” ΎηΌÎčÎżÏ…ÏÎłÏŽÎœÏ„Î±Ï‚ τη ÎŒÎżÏ…ÏƒÎčÎșÎź Όας, όταΜ φαΜταζόΌαστΔ ότÎč ÎșαΜέΜας ΎΔΜ Όας αÎșÎżÏÎ”Îč. ΀ο πΔρÎčÏƒÏƒÏŒÏ„Î”ÏÎż feedback Ï„Îż Ï€Î±ÎŻÏÎœÎżÏ…ÎŒÎ” από Ï†ÎŻÎ»ÎżÏ…Ï‚. ΔΔ Όας αρέσΔÎč Μα αÎșÎżÎ»ÎżÏ…ÎžÎżÏÎŒÎ” Ï„Îż τÎč σÎșÎ­Ï†Ï„ÎżÎœÏ„Î±Îč ÎżÎč ΏλλοÎč ÎłÎ±Ï„ÎŻ Î”ÎŻÎœÎ±Îč Ï€ÎżÎ»Ï ΔύÎșολο Μα Î±Ï€ÎżÎłÎżÎ·Ï„Î”Ï…Ï„Î”ÎŻÏ‚ από ÎŒÎčα ÎșαÎșÎź ÎșρÎčτÎčÎșό. ΌταΜ ΟΔÎșÎčÎœÎźÏƒÎ±ÎŒÎ” Μα ÎłÏÎŹÏ†ÎżÏ…ÎŒÎ” ÎŒÎżÏ…ÏƒÎčÎșÎź ÎźÎŒÎ±ÏƒÏ„Î±Îœ Ï€ÎżÎ»Ï Î”Ï…Ï„Ï…Ï‡Î”ÎŻÏ‚ Ï€ÎżÏ… ΎΔΜ ΟέραΌΔ τÎč σÎșÎ­Ï†Ï„ÎżÎœÏ„Î±Îč ÎżÎč Ώλλο ÎłÎčα Î”ÎŒÎŹÏ‚, ÎșαΞώς ΎΔΜ Ï…Ï€ÎźÏÏ‡Î±Îœ ÎżÏÏ„Î” Ï€ÏÎżÏƒÎŽÎżÎșÎŻÎ”Ï‚ ÎżÏÏ„Î” απαÎčÏ„ÎźÏƒÎ”Îčς. ΔΔ ÎžÎ­Î»ÎżÏ…ÎŒÎ” Μα Όας Î±Î»Î»ÎŹÎ¶ÎżÏ…Îœ τα Ï€ÏÎŹÎłÎŒÎ±Ï„Î± Ï€ÎżÏ… λέΔÎč Îż ÎșÏŒÏƒÎŒÎżÏ‚, Î”ÎŻÏ„Î” αυτό Î”ÎŻÎœÎ±Îč Îșαλό Î”ÎŻÏ„Î” όχÎč, ÎłÎč' αυτό αυτές τÎčς ΌέρΔς Ï€ÏÎżÏƒÏ€Î±ÎžÎżÏÎŒÎ” σÎșÎ»Î·ÏÎŹ Μα ÎșλΔÎčÎŽÏ‰ÎžÎżÏÎŒÎ” από Ï„ÎżÎœ έΟω ÎșÏŒÏƒÎŒÎż ÎșαÎč Μα φαΜταζόΌαστΔ ότÎč ÎŽÎčÎ±ÎœÏÎżÏ…ÎŒÎ” αÎșόΌα τηΜ πρώτη Όας Ï€Î”ÏÎŻÎżÎŽÎż.
F.P.: Πώς Î±Ï„Î”ÎœÎŻÎ¶Î”Ï„Î” Ï„Îż ÎŒÎ­Î»Î»ÎżÎœ;
Marcus: ΑΜ σΔ ΔίÎșÎżÏƒÎč χρόΜÎčα ΎηΌÎčÎżÏ…ÏÎłÎżÏÎŒÎ” αÎșόΌα Ï€ÏÎŹÎłÎŒÎ±Ï„Î± Ï€ÎżÏ… ÎČÏÎŻÏƒÎșω ΔΜΎÎčÎ±Ï†Î­ÏÎżÎœÏ„Î± ÎșαÎč ΔΟαÎșÎżÎ»ÎżÏ…ÎžÎżÏÎŒÎ” Μα ΔÎčÏƒÏ€ÏÎŹÏ„Ï„ÎżÏ…ÎŒÎ” ÎčÎșÎ±ÎœÎżÏ€ÎżÎŻÎ·ÏƒÎ· απ' αυτό, Θα Î”ÎŻÎŒÎ±Îč Ï€ÎżÎ»Ï Î”Ï…Ï„Ï…Ï‡ÎźÏ‚.
Mike: ÎœÎżÏ…ÏƒÎčÎșÎź ÎłÎčα Ï€ÎŹÎœÏ„Î±.

Note: ChatGPT3 translation by Moz


The anticipation for the release of their second album reached a point of hysteria among the audiences of the so-called leftfield or progressive electronica. And this is not a case of manufactured hype. Boards Of Canada earned the favour of the modern urbanite thanks to the power of their sound to transport you to a distant spacetime. The enchantment of the soul that was achieved four years ago with Music Has The Right to Children and is repeated again with this year's diamond-like Geogaddi is what makes Marcus Eion (sic) and Michael Sandison now considered the leaders of a movement in electronic music comprised of names (Mum, Minotaur Shock, Manual, Casino Vs Japan) that combine analog with digital sound, evoke the child hidden within each listener, and build atmospheres that are complex yet sweet and alluring. Glory is now a reality for the two residents of the Scottish countryside who, as if unwilling or unable to believe what is happening to them, continue to be distant from the musical metropolises, appear rarely, and let an air of mystery surround them.


However, in the interview they granted us via e-mail, they made everything clear.


Text / Interview: Christos Karras


Fractal Press: What happened between Music Has The Right to Children and Geogaddi? What occurred during those four years?
Mike: For an entire year, we were writing music, traveling, and filming the north. Then we rebuilt our studio, which took quite a bit of time to set up. We had a lot of technical problems for about a year until we finally overcame them. We spent the last two years writing music for our new album, but we also did some remixes and favours for others, like the remix for Mike Paradinas' project Slag Boom Van Loon. Then we decided not to do any more remixes or collaborations in the future because all these activities consume valuable time that we prefer to spend writing our own albums. Additionally, we released two EPs, *In A Beautiful Place Out In The Country* and the *John Peel session*.
F.P.: For you, what were the most significant differences between Music Has The Right to Children and Geogaddi?
Mike: In Geogaddi, we used many distorted sounds to achieve a more "generalised" sound where individual elements were less important. The idea was to make the sounds unrecognizable, and for example, there are some parts where you can't distinguish if you're hearing a flute, a voice, or a synthesizer. In the previous album, we focused more on simple melodic lines from synthesizers and small, isolated sounds. It was a more minimalist and sparse sound, and the truth is that this is how we usually sound. Recently, though, I found myself trying to capture some of the strange sounds I hear when I dream, sounds that I can't identify with the timbre of a musical instrument, and I think we achieved that in Geogaddi.
F.P.: When do you know that one of your tracks has reached perfection?
Marcus: I don't know if there's a point where a track is perfect. I suppose that happens when you reach a point where you love the sound of your track and think that anything you add or remove will ruin it. Then it might be perfect. I'm happy when I can finish a track in one day, but sometimes I get obsessed with certain parts of a track, and that can take weeks. These days, though, I'm trying to write more music but spend less time on each track because I know that's when musicians do their best work.
F.P.: Where do Boards Of Canada draw their inspiration from?
Mike: We have the same influences. As we were growing up in the early '70s, we listened to a lot of music, but our biggest influence is movies and books, as well as older pop music from the '60s and '70s. We like TV music from the '70s and '80s, like the jingles that play at the end of American TV shows. I draw a lot of inspiration from movies, especially those paranoid, freeform movies of the late '70s and early '80s. We are also deeply influenced by certain documentaries, cartoons, and public service broadcasts. I read serious science fiction and try to imagine the sounds that fit the scenes described. This certainly feeds into the music I write.
F.P.: How do you choose the titles of your albums and tracks? To what extent do these titles reflect your music? Does naming the music often limit the listener's ability to create their own scenarios and meanings when listening to it?
Marcus: It is important to leave a degree of ambiguity in these things because what the listener can imagine is always more powerful than what you can actually give them. We approach each of our titles differently. Sometimes it can be as simple as the name of the person whose voice is heard in the track, or it can be a distorted phrase that someone perceived while being drunk or high. Distorted phrases have been used several times because such a phrase sparks inspiration and evokes emotions, becoming surreal and suggesting a confused, enhanced form of reality. Sometimes we even use cryptic and enigmatic titles for our tracks because we are curious if anyone will understand what they refer to. A title can make the music sound completely different, and that can be a great thing if done carefully.
F.P.: How do the visuals you use in your concerts relate to the music you play? Are there any messages you want to convey through these images?
Mike: I like people to form their own opinions about what the music means, and the same goes for the visuals, which is why we create ambiguous images that suggest specific things. We usually make quite abstract images, with loops of cartoons and gloomy clips of sad moments. In the same way, a track can have a voice, and the listener might not recognize exactly what the voice is saying, we like to use abstract images with subtle or subconscious tricks. Recently, we have been using images that take a theme and make strange connections between art, geometry, mathematics, and religion. We always change our concept every time we release a new album.
F.P.: What are your favorite albums of all time?
Marcus: I could answer this forever, but the top of the top for me are Loveless by My Bloody Valentine, New Traditionalists by Devo, Pet Sounds by The Beach Boys, Heaven or Las Vegas and Blue Bell Knoll by Cocteau Twins, and 20 Mothers by Julian Cope.
Mike: My answer would change from time to time, but for now, I would say Garlands by Cocteau Twins, Geno by Dexy's Midnight Runners, anything by Wendy Carlos, Clouds by Joni Mitchell, and I Don't Know Why I Love You by Stevie Wonder...
F.P.: Listening to Boards Of Canada makes me feel like a child again. How do past experiences influence your material?
Mike: We like to play with images and memories of childhood; it's a good source of inspiration because we all were children once, and we all have lost that part of our lives. Almost all pop music is based on current themes and adult interests, but most of this material leaves me empty and indifferent. I want music to make me feel sad; I want music to make me feel anything. That's why in my music, I recall memories, some good and some tragic. I also believe that, when you are young, you can have strange ideas and sophisticated thoughts in your mind, but as you grow older, all these are repressed and enter the subconscious. Maybe we are trying to recapture these ideas by writing our music. We try to disguise something complex as something simple and naive, and perhaps when someone listens to our music, it seems childish or simplistic, but this is true only on the surface of our music.
F.P.: Is there anything you miss from the early days of Boards Of Canada when you were a broader artistic collective without official jobs?
Mike: Yes, I miss the anonymity.
F.P.: How do you achieve this multi-dimensional type of music where the listens, no matter how many, never lose their interest?
Marcus: Our tracks are quite musical. I mean that we are better musicians than what the sound style of Boards Of Canada might reveal, and we place enormous importance on writing melodies that have a sufficient degree of emotional "resolution" within them. The magical "fifth chord". When we compose our tracks, we want them to include things that are not obvious the first few times you listen to them, so that after several listens, you can find sounds and hidden melodies that you hadn't noticed before. We also write a lot of tracks. Only one-twentieth of our work finds its way to the market, and only after we have worked on them for months, only then do we have a good idea of which tracks have the most staying power.
F.P.: The new album is somewhat darker than Music Has The Right to Children'. What led you to this change in direction?
Marcus: It wasn't our intention to write a darker album. I think the sound simply reflects our mood while we were recording it. I believe we subconsciously reacted to the feeling that the sound of our previous album was a bit lighter than we actually are and also reacted to certain personal, traumatic experiences of the past few years.
F.P.: You rarely perform live and don't communicate much with your audience. How do you get feedback on your music? How do you evaluate this feedback and to what extent do you let it influence your music?
Mike: We actually try not to get feedback. It's easier for us to have fun creating our music when we imagine that no one is listening to us. Most of the feedback we get is from friends. We don't like to follow what others think because it's very easy to get discouraged by a bad review. When we started making music, we were very happy not knowing what others thought about us since there were neither expectations nor demands. We don't want to let what people say change us, whether it's good or bad, so these days we try hard to lock ourselves away from the outside world and imagine we're still in our early days.
F.P.: How do you envision the future?
Marcus: If in twenty years we're still creating things that I find interesting and we're still getting satisfaction from it, I'll be very happy.
Mike: Music forever.

Let's Open The Time Capsule

title Let's Open The Time Capsule
author Naohiro Kato
publication Remix (Japanese Publication)
date 2003/01
issue 139
pages pp.82-83



"Let's Open The Time Capsule" is an interview (in Japanese) by Naohiro Kato originally published Jan. 2003 in Remix magazine (Japanese publication) Number 139, pp.82-83.

Boards of Canada


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words Naohiro Kato


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Boards of Canada


Let's open the time capsule.

The strange trip sounds sent out by Boards of Canada have created addicts worldwide. This time, the elusive first album, which has been traded at high prices among enthusiasts, is finally being reissued.

Words by Naohiro Kato


Boards of Canada's first album, Twoism, which had been traded among hardcore fans for 800 pounds (approximately 150,000 yen), is finally being reissued by Warp (and by Beat Records in Japan). This work was created before they signed with Warp and was released in the late '80s through their self-established label , which they set up to release demo tracks around the Edinburgh area. This album is like a strange gift from Boards of Canada. Listening to this work made me feel like I was digging up and opening a time capsule buried underground. It's quite a mysterious and peculiar feeling to have a work from years ago, which hadn't been released to the public (though some people couldn't wait and peeked), now delivered to us. Here, I won't deliberately touch on the contents. That's more fitting for this mysterious unit. Instead, let me share an interview about their early activities, which hasn't been widely discussed (this interview is an outtake from the one published in our April 2002 issue).

When did you start making music?
Mike: As children, we were very interested in movies, especially sci-fi movies, the kind our parents didn't want us to watch. I think those movies we watched back then greatly influenced our music and imagery. I've always been interested in the desolate visions of the future depicted in movies, TV shows, and books. Especially the future seen from the 1970s perspective. Both of us played piano and guitar since we were little, but we soon got bored (laughs). By the time we were ten, we were both composing and playing in bands. The music we made was really unpleasant. We were trying to provoke the unimaginative people in our town. The music we made back then was quite close to the early computer game music. Energetic 8-bit Atari melodies played on actual instruments.
You've moved around a lot, from northern Scotland to southern England to Alberta, Canada. Was that due to family circumstances?
Marcus: My family worked in the construction industry. So, we moved to where the work was. My father moved to Alberta to build the Saddledome in Calgary. We stayed there throughout the construction. My family is large, including extended relatives. We jokingly call my family the "mafia".
Mike, you had already started making music before meeting Marcus, right?
Mike: In the early '80s, I started a band with about five friends. It was like many other bands. My house had some instruments, and we borrowed a multi-track tape machine. Luckily, a school teacher let us use the school's first synthesizer, which we experimented with in the studio rehearsal room. There were many percussion instruments and other instruments. The studio owner had no idea what was going on. Initially, the band played live drums, synthesizers, and bass guitar. We made long, monotonous tracks with a grand atmosphere that seemed to go on forever.
What was the band's name?
Mike: We changed members and the band name hundreds of times back then.
What was the music like?
Mike: For that time, it was very unusual music. We were trying to make artificial movie music, like John Carpenter's themes. We once did a six-hour set at a local gig. I still have all the tapes from that time. We keep everything. We never throw away songs.
Marcus, you joined Mike's band as a bassist. What kind of musical activities were you involved in before that?
Marcus: In high school, I played bass and guitar in various rock bands. But I think all musicians go through the initiation of a high school band when they're young.
Who were your favorite musicians back then?
Marcus: Before forming BOC, we had both been making music for a long time. Because of that, we went through a stage of listening to many different artists together. When I think back to when we formed BOC, our biggest influences were Devo, The Velvet Underground, Cocteau Twins, Nitzer Ebb, DAF, Wendy Carlos, and various underground hip-hop records.
When did you establish the independent label ?
Marcus: We established the label in the late '80s to release our first demos.
Where was your base of activities at that time?
Marcus: It hasn't changed much. Near Edinburgh, Scotland.
Were the works from released under the BOC name?
Marcus: Most of them were under the BOC name, but we also released some under other names. We recorded quite a lot of music different from BOC's style. Probably enough to make several guitar music albums. But I don't know if those ever became records.
What other releases were there from this label?
Marcus: A few demos for friends, made without any profit.

Boards of Canada's first album, Twoism is now available from Beat Records!


The Campfire Headphase era

Boc-wallpaper-20.jpg


The Downtempo Duo

title The Downtempo Duo
author Heiko Hoffmann
publication Pitchfork
date 2005/09/26
issue
pages



"The Downtempo Duo" is an interview by Heiko Hoffmann originally published online Sept. 2005 on Pitchfork.com. [13]

This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.

The Downtempo Duo


With their Warp albums Music Has the Right to Children and Geogaddi, Boards of Canada have become one of the most well-loved and critically revered contemporary artists without releasing singles, videos, or even going on tour. At the same time their sound of electronic psychedelia has been copied so often as to make the duo wonder what to do next. In this interview, which took place at the Royal Museum in Edinburgh, Scotland, Mike and Marcus Sandison speak for the first time about their backgrounds, obsessive reactions to Geogaddi, and their upcoming new album The Campfire Headphase.


In the interviews you've given over the years and in the bios that your record label sends out it's never been mentioned when and how you got to know each other. So at what age did you guys meet?
Mike: Oh. Mmh, just very, very young, actually. We lived in the same place near Inverness in Scotland, a very small coastal town in the middle of nowhere. Our parents were in the same gang of friends.
How old where you when you started making music?
Mike: We were about 6 or 7 years old when we started to learn instruments and play together. We actually started to record our own music when we were about 10. If your parents have tape recorders, pianos and stuff like lying around in the house you are just going to play around with them.
Are you coming from musical families?
Mike: Yeah. And of course it's a big help when your parents play instruments...[pauses]. Actually can I just stop the recorder there for a second?


Recorder is switched off. Mike asks Marcus if it's ok to talk about it. Marcus says yes. Mike checks if the recorder is off and explains that they are in fact brothers, but have concealed that as they didn't want to provoke comparisons to Orbital, the electronic duo of brothers Phil and Paul Hartnoll, when they started to release records in the mid-90s. Recorder is switched on again.

Marcus: Obviously, certain people know us as real people. We haven't gone out of our way to conceal the fact we're brothers. It's not that big of a deal. If people don't ask about it then we don't bring it up. When we started releasing records we just wanted to avoid comparisons to Orbital...

Mike: Or even the Osmonds or the Jacksons [laughs].

Marcus: I never thought about it but Ween are brothers as well, aren't they?

Mike: No, they are not.

Marcus: I thought they were. Are they not?

Mike: No, they just pretend that they are. [Laughs]

Marcus: That's fantastic! [Laughs]

Mike: See, some people go out of their way to do things like that, while we are trying to avoid it.
So who had to adopt a new family name for the sake of Boards of Canada?
Mike: We are both Sandisons. And Eoin is actually Marcus' middle name. So that's a pretty simple explanation.
When did you live in Canada?
Mike: From 1979 to 1980. I was eight years old and Marcus was a bit younger. Our father worked in construction. He helped to build the Saddle Dome in Calgary. There was a lot of work at that time in Canada so that's why we moved there. We moved around quite a lot and then relocated to Scotland. We've been based around Edinburgh for the last 20 years, so this is home.
Why did the educational TV films from the National Film Board of Canada, that you named yourself after, have such a big impact on you and your music if you'd only been exposed to them for a year?
Marcus: We saw them in both Canada and Scotland. The films were on television in the UK for years. For a long time we weren't sure what [the NFBC] would think about a band being named after them. Only recently did we find out that they had used our music on some of their films. So we took that as approval.

Mike: They have a newsletter and even ran an article on us a couple of years ago. So that's a strange feedback loop.

Marcus: Back then television was a really big deal for us because we were so bored. We weren't old enough to go to the cinema and we were in a town where there was absolutely bugger all to do. So we just went out and vandalized property. [Laughs] Or sneak in video nasties from the local video store. Or got our friends together to make films. We had our crappy early-80s bikes and went out with my dad's super-8 camera making films.
And you really started recording music at the age of 10?
Marcus: Yeah but I wouldn't describe it as Boards of Canada music at that time.


Mike: Obviously we didn't have a multitrack recorder, but we had two tape recoders. What you could do is record something on one tape recorder, play it back across two feet of air and while it was playing accompany it with something else on the guitar, the piano, the drums, whatever. We would do this, swap the cassettes over and do it again and again until the tapes started getting so distorted that you couldn't do it any longer. So it was really crude old-school multitrack recording. But it was a good way for us to learn how to compose our own stuff.
Was it always just the two of you playing together?
Mike: Well, I went to high school before Marcus did, and I formed a band there with friends.

Marcus: Initially we were in different bands in high school.

Mike: But when we came home [from school] we were recording music together. At one point in the mid-80s Marcus was in a really trashy heavy metal band and I wasn't into their music at all. So I invited him to play with my band. We then started to play around with synths. We were the only group at our high school to use synths.
You only started sending demo tapes to record labels in the mid-90s. Why did take you such a long time to approach a label to release your music?
Mike: We just didn't think that we were good enough. We kept changing what we were doing. The problem with us as a band is that we have a schizophrenic approach to music, which still haunts us. We had a kind of battle when we worked on this album [The Campfire Headphase]. A lot of what we did for this record was really electronic stuff and a lot of what we did was really guitar-y music. I mean much more guitar-y than what ended up on the record. But this problem-- how to fuse these two things-- always plagued us.


Marcus: For me, there's an era of music in the early 90s when people started to combine electronic music with guitar music, forcing them to come together, and I always hated this music.
Do you mean bands like EMF or Jesus Jones?
Marcus: Exactly! I wasn't going to name names but, yes. For me it didn't really fit together. It was really rubbish.

Mike: Because we've always listened to huge amounts of different music we experiment with lots of things. So you play guitar one minute and then something extremely electronic the next minute. But if you're gonna be a band you can't really afford to do that. You have to stick with something. Nobody's gonna want to listen to a record where there's an electronic tune and, let's say, a banjo tune right after. You have to stay with a flavor.

Marcus: Some of the tracks that we worked on are so extreme in one direction that we just can't use them. They don't fit the BoC thing at all. We can't release them under this project. We're already seeing from the reactions to this record that some people love it and are really happy that we've done something different. But there are some people having a problem with the guitars. So if we'd really gone full-on with that they would have just never believed that it's the same group. You would never know that it was us.
Don't you underestimate your audiences openness for change?
Mike: Maybe. In the late-80s the three bands that were a huge influence on us were Front 242 to some extent, and-- to a large extent-- Nitzer Ebb and the Cocteau Twins. And they don't actually fit in the same category...

Marcus: ...but we would listen to them at the same time. Maybe it's a slightly gothic thing. You can imagine that there was already a seed planted there where that was going in two different directions. I actually rate bands like Nine Inch Nails and Marilyn Manson who are a hybrid of electronic and guitar music. I think they are brilliant but the kind of people who are into that kind of thing now are not as broad-minded as maybe people were 20 years ago. Now there's a feeling that if you are one of these kids wearing black eyeliner who's into Marilyn Manson you will never be open-minded enough to listen to electronic music. I think there's a narrowing of taste rather than an opening up of taste.

Mike: Or maybe it just seems like that from our point of view here in Scotland.

Marcus: We've actually been in touch with the Cocteau Twins. Simon Raymonde of Cocteau Twins is a fan of our music. He's been trying for about four years to persuade us do some work on his label Bella Union but we are contractually not allowed to do that. Plus we don't even have the time. But it's a shame because we are such huge fans of theirs.
It seems that on one hand you're afraid to alienate your audience but on the other you try to avoid being pigeonholed.
Mike: Yeah. The new record is probably the slowest record that we've done. And it's got guitars on it as well. This is something that we've done slightly deliberately. We knew that we had to break away from this thing. It bothered us that if you go into the big stores our stuff is always sitting in the dance music section. We never made a dance record in our entire career but our stuff stilll gets thrown in there. Our drive with this record is to try and get us out of the dance section and into the main section with all the others bands, like ABBA and A-Ha. We're just a band. Not an IDM band, not an electronic band, and not a dance band.
But this will not happen. It's a losing battle.
Mike: Maybe not now, but in five or 10 years-- if shops are still selling CDs. [Laughs]
One reason why you feel quite a lot of pressure, surely is the fact that it takes you such a long time to put a record out. Your last album, Geogaddi, was released three and a half years ago.
Mike: We've really experienced high expectation regarding the new record, partly because it took such a long time. And we think this works against us as well.
So what took you so long? When Geogaddi came out you were saying that the new album was already half finished.
Mike: We both relocated and built new studios. That took us about a year. Then I became a father last year and that was another year lost. Personal things happen in everyone's lives and you find that it's very difficult to get on with work. That was part of the problem.

But it's correct that we had done a lot of work on this record by the time Geogaddi came out. We have this system of working where we never work in a linear fashion. We work parallel on lots and lots of music at once.

Marcus: Instead of starting on one song and working on it until its finished we have hundreds of songs on the go at one time and depending on our mood we try working on different ones. We both have pretty short attention spans.

Mike: We always have enough material for several other albums but what tends to happen is that our tastes move on and we kind of get fed up with what we're doing. We actually have a huge amount of music that people will probably never get to hear.

Marcus: It's just another manifestation of this schizophrenic problem, trying to do too many things at once.

Mike: We also started working on an acoustic version of Music Has the Right to Children years ago and it still exists.

Marcus: The reason why we haven't put something like this out is that it can seem like a retread of something you've already done.
Is The Campfire Headphase a direct reaction for you on Geogaddi?
Mike: Yes, to some extent I think it is. The whole mood of this record is really uplifting and happy generally. It's really a case of saying: All the mystery and magic and all this kind of nonsense that built up around the last record got to a point where it was just silly. People were understanding things from our music that we didn't put in there and were saying there was an evil underrcurrent to everything. And we are not like that at all. It was a theme that we wanted to persue on that record but people have understood from that that we always put secret, dark, sinister, and satanic things in our music. And that became more important than the music itself.

Geogaddi was also the most abstract and surreal record we've done. A lot of the tracks don't really have much structure. Some songs are more soundscapes. With the new record we wanted to simplify the whole thing, [to make it] just about music.

Marcus: We realized that there are some people who would listen to our records but instead of listening to the music they would start looking for some hidden things immediately.

Mike: People will look for secret things now in this record even if there aren't any.
More than any of your records before this one reminds me most of My Bloody Valentine's Loveless.
Mike: Well, that's a great compliment. Of course we are massive fans of My Bloody Valentine. Loveless is probably one of my top five favorite albums of all time. I think that, even if we don't sound like them, there's a connection in terms of the approach to the music. The idea of making music where it's really difficult to figure out which instruments you are listening to but you just don't care. At the same time we also tried to get away from the notion that our music is entirely contained within electronic boxes. It never has been and we are not big fans of laptop music. So this time we really wanted to try and break out. We're not trying to be an IDM band and we're not trying to be a Warp band or anything.
But Warp Records have changed a lot too, if you think about bands like Maximo Park, Broadcast etc.
Marcus: Definately. And I think it would have been harder for us to release a record with guitar sounds if that hadn't been the case.

interview by Heiko Hoffmann, September 2005.


Spirit, Logic & Mathematics

title Spirit, Logic & Mathematics
author Hendrik Lakeberg
publication De:Bug
date 2005/10
issue 93
pages p.28



"Spirit, Logic & Mathematics" is an interview (in German) by Hendrik Lakeberg originally published Oct. 2005 in De:Bug magazine Number 93. [14] [15]

This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.

Die mysterösen Superstars der Elektronika haben wieder ein Album gemacht. Drei Jahre haben die beiden Schotten dafĂŒr gebraucht. “ZurĂŒck zu den AnfĂ€ngen” war ihre Premisse. Warum alle so aufgeregt sind, verstehen sie am aller wenigsten.


RĂŒckwĂ€rts wird’s auch nicht besser


Seit 1990 findet im Norden Schottlands in der NĂ€he des Boards-of-Canada-Studios einmal jĂ€hrlich eine Outdoor-Party statt. Vor der imposanten Naturkulisse Schottlands und verstreut brennenden Lagerfeuern lauschen die Besucher rĂŒckwĂ€rtslaufenden Sprachcollagen, verfremdeter Filmmusik und starren auf flimmernde LeinwĂ€nde, beschienen von kruden Film-ObskuritĂ€ten. Unter dem Namen Hexagon Sun kollaborierten die Zeremonienmeister der Veranstaltung Mike Sandison und Marcus Eoin regelmĂ€ĂŸig mit befreundeten Musikern. Wabernder Elektronika-Prog weht ĂŒber einen Strand irgendwo im nördlichen Schottland. In der Nacht des ersten Festivals leuchtete der Mond blutrot und der Name dieses nebligen Gatherings war geboren: Red moon nights.

Vielleicht waren diese Abende die Geburtsstunde der Boards of Canada, wie wir sie heute kennen. Alles scheint dagewesen zu sein: die Faszination fĂŒr Natur, dieses dĂŒstere, esoterisch angehauchte Neo-Hippietum, die Anspielungen auf bedeutungsschwangere mathematische Konstruktionen. Keine andere Elektronika-Band hat in den letzten Jahren mehr RĂ€tsel aufgegeben. In Internet-Foren werden ihre Platten mit pedantischer PrĂ€zision auf versteckte Hinweise untersucht, Samples rĂŒckwĂ€rts abgespielt, Zahlenfolgen gedeutet. So finden sich auf der EP A Beautiful Place In The Country im Artwork der Platte beispielsweise Hinweise auf den Kollektiven Selbstmord der Davidianer-Sekte im texanischen Waco. Und auf ihrem vorletzten Album Geogaddi soll man in einem rĂŒckwĂ€rtslaufenden Sprachsample den Satz “A God with Horns” hören können.

"The Devil Is In The Details" nennt sich ein Track auf Geogaddi. Bei den Interpretationen handelt es sich also nicht nur um Phantasmagorien obsessiv veranlagter Fans. Boards of Canada selber sind nicht ganz unschuldig an den Mysterien und VerklĂ€rungen, die sich um sie ranken. Doch die Zeiten scheinen sich geĂ€ndert zu haben. Durch Campfire Headphase, die neue BOC-Platte, weht im Gegensatz zum dĂŒster vernebelten Surrealismus von “Geogaddi” der illuminierende Wind der AufklĂ€rung. Die Tracks sind strukturell glasklar, die Beats rumpeln prĂ€zise abgezirkelt vor sich hin. DarĂŒber schweben diese typischen BOC-FlĂ€chen, wie pastellige Farben, die langsam ineinander laufen, sich vermischen und vorsichtig gerinnen. Vielleicht ist Campfire Headphase die Abendröte der Elektronika. Zeitlos schön und gerade deshalb so zeitgemĂ€ĂŸ. Fast wie ein klassisches LehrstĂŒck, eine Essenz. Und fĂŒr BOC die logische Konsequenz ihrer bisherigen Arbeit. NatĂŒrlich ist auch Campfire Headphase durchsetzt mit Anspielungen, Konzepten, RĂ€tseln. Das Bild, dass sich aus der Musik herauslesen lĂ€sst, rĂŒckt eine andere Seite ins Licht: Marcus Eoin und Mike Sanderson ging es niemals allein darum, in opake, mystische Welten herabzufĂŒhren, sondern eher darum, das Seltsame, schwer Verstehbare der Welt in Musik umzusetzen. RĂ€tsel aufzugeben, die danach verlangen, entrĂ€tselt zu werden. Eine epische Inszenierung fundamentaler Konflikte auszubreiten: Magie vs. Logik, SpiritualitĂ€t vs. Vernunft.

Wie fĂŒhlt sich das fĂŒr euch an, eine Platte draußen zu haben? Ist das nicht immer hart, so einen Schnitt zu machen, die Musik in der Öffentlichkeit zu exponieren und die Reaktionen abzuwarten?
Wir sind mit der neuen Platte sehr glĂŒcklich. Es ist schon manchmal schwer, diesen Punkt abzupassen, an dem man sagt: “OK, das ist jetzt fertig”, und ab und zu mĂŒssen wir uns richtig dazu zwingen, einen Track gehen zu lassen. Bei dieser Platte war es aber eigentlich so, dass wir den Sound, den wir erreichen wollten, auch fast genauso hinbekommen haben. GrundsĂ€tzlich interessieren uns die Reviews und der ganze Internet-Chat ĂŒber unsere Musik nicht wirklich. Wir versuchen immer einfach nur unseren Instinkten zu folgen.
The Campfire Headphase klingt schnörkelloser als “Geogaddi”. Gab es Unterschiede im Produktionsprozess, in eurem Zugang zur Musik?
Ja. In gewisser Weise wollten wir unsere Musik vereinfachen. Das war aber im Vergleich zu den anderen Platten sehr zeitaufwendig. Klingt komisch: mehr Zeit fĂŒr einen reduzierten Sound. War aber so. Unser Zugang zur Musik verĂ€ndert sich eigentlich stĂ€ndig und von Platte zu Platte. Unsere Ideen und Themen Ă€ndern sich, die Musik, die wir hören 
 Diesmal wollten wir zurĂŒckkehren zu einem simplen Sound, zu destillierten Melodien. Die Tracks sind aber gleichzeitig immer noch sehr dicht im Hinblick auf die Arrangements.
Ihr arbeitet jetzt seit fast 20 Jahren zusammen. Gab es bei eurer Kollaboration eine Zeit, in der ihr euch in einer Sackgasse gefĂŒhlt habt?
Nein, eigentlich nicht. Wir haben eher das GefĂŒhl, nicht genug Zeit zu haben, alles das zu machen, was wir gerne machen wĂŒrden. Unsere Musik Ă€ndert sich von Platte zu Platte, bleibt aber im Kern ganz klar Boards of Canada. Wir lassen immer ein anders farbiges Licht durch unsere Musik scheinen. Außerdem interessieren wir uns beide fĂŒr Ă€hnliche Dinge, Ă€hnliche Filme, Ă€hnliche Musik, Kunst und Literatur. Uns gehen irgendwie nie die Ideen aus. Wir planen jetzt schon unser nĂ€chstes Projekt.
Gab es fĂŒr euch einen musikalischen Moment, von dem ihr dachtet, das ist jetzt perfekt, das könnte fĂŒr immer so weitergehen?
Ja, das passiert sogar sehr oft. Speziell bei den extrem minimalen Tracks, bei einer verloren klingenden, isolierten Melodie oder sich wiederholenden Phrasen. Auf diesem Album ist das bei dem letzten Track "Farewell Fire" so. Wir hĂ€tten der Musik fĂŒr immer zuhören können, also haben wir den Track am Ende der Platte ganz langsam ausgefaded, so langsam, dass der Track die letzten zwei Minuten kaum noch zu hören ist, die Musik aber weiter ganz leise vor sich hinkreist.
Spielen die Zuhörer irgendeine Rolle fĂŒr euch?
Das ist eine schwierige Frage, weil wir uns auf der einen Seite immer vorstellen, dass niemand unsere Musik hört, um die Musik möglichst direkt und unmittelbar aus uns selber heraus zu produzieren. Aber da draußen gibt es natĂŒrlich viele Leute, die sich sehr intensiv alles anhören, was wir machen. Also spielen wir ein wenig damit. Eines unserer Hauptziele ist es, ganz tief sitzende GefĂŒhle beim Hörer anzusprechen 
 persönliche, emotionale Bindungen oder eine verblasste Erinnerung an jemanden oder etwas, das verloren ist.
Woher kommt eure Faszination fĂŒr “heidnische” Religionen und Natur? Den Track "Ataronchronon" könnte man vielleicht in diesem Kontext sehen.
"Ataronchronon" handelt eher von der Zersplitterung eines vertrieben Indianerstamms, es handelt von geschichtlicher Tragik und Ungerechtigkeit. Wir sind zwar an Religion interessiert, selber aber nicht religiös. Unser Interesse sowohl an der SpiritualitĂ€t als auch an der Natur, an Geometrie und Mathematik, an der Erhabenheit der Wahrnehmung des Ganzen hĂ€ngt damit zusammen, dass wir verstehen wollen, welche Werte und Muster unser Gehirn auf die Welt projiziert. Vielleicht können aber auch das Spirituelle, die Wissenschaft, Logik und Mathematik nebeneinander stehen. Die Dinge scheinen manchmal nicht allein wissenschaftlich erklĂ€rt werden zu können. Wenn man eine schöne Melodie hört, sich in jemanden verliebt, was auch immer 

Auf der A Beautiful Place In The Country-EP spielt ihr auf das Waco-Massaker an. Dort hat eine Sekte einen kollektiven Selbstmord begangen. Wie fĂŒgt sich das ein?
Das Interesse an Religion kommt aus unserem Respekt und der Liebe fĂŒr die Perfektion, die man ĂŒberall auf diesem Planeten sieht. Aber in evolutionĂ€rer Hinsicht haben Menschen schlicht und einfach nicht den Intellekt, um wirklich zu verstehen, was vor sich geht. Es reduziert sich also auf einen Krieg zwischen Logik und SpiritualitĂ€t, wie eben in Waco.
Wie steht ihr zu den ganzen Interpretationen, die ĂŒber eure Platten kursieren?
Das erstaunt uns manchmal schon, dass die Leute ganz kleine Details in unserer Musik wahrnehmen, von denen wir gedacht haben, dass sie die niemals bemerken wĂŒrden. Auf der anderen Seite werden aber auch einfach Dinge erfunden, die so nicht da sind. Deshalb wird es manchmal tatsĂ€chlich einfach nur absurd.


The mysterious Superstars of electronica have made an album again. It took the two Scots three years to make it. "Back to the origins" was their premise. Why everyone is so excited they understand least of all.


It doesn't get any better backwards


Since 1990, an outdoor party has been held once a year in the north of Scotland near the Boards of Canada studio. Against the imposing natural backdrop of Scotland and scattered burning campfires, visitors listen to backmasked voice collages, alienated film music and stare at flickering screens, illuminated by crude film obscurities. Under the name Hexagon Sun, the event's masters of ceremonies Mike Sandison and Marcus Eoin regularly collaborated with musician friends. Wobbling electronica prog wafts across a beach somewhere in northern Scotland. On the night of the first festival, the moon glowed blood red and the name of this misty gathering was born: Red moon nights.

Perhaps these evenings were the birth of Boards of Canada as we know them today. Everything seems to have been there: the fascination with nature, that gloomy, esoteric-tinged neo-hipsterism, the allusions to meaningful mathematical constructions. No other electronica band has posed more riddles in recent years. In Internet forums, their records are examined with pedantic precision for hidden clues, samples played backwards, sequences of numbers interpreted. For example, on the EP "A Beautiful Place In The Country", the record's artwork includes references to the collective suicide of the Davidian sect in Waco, Texas. And on their penultimate album, "Geogaddi", the phrase "A God with Horns" is said to be heard in a backmasked voice sample.

"The Devil Is In The Details" is the name of a track on "Geogaddi". So the interpretations are not just phantasmagorias of obsessively inclined fans. Boards of Canada themselves are not entirely innocent of the mysteries and transfigurations that surround them. But times seem to have changed. Through Campfire Headphase, the new BOC record, the illuminating wind of enlightenment blows in contrast to the darkly fogged surrealism of "Geogaddi". The tracks are structurally crystal clear, the beats rumble along precisely circled. Above them float these typical BOC surfaces, like pastel colors that slowly run into each other, mix and carefully coagulate. Perhaps "Campfire Headphase" is the evening glow of electronica. Timelessly beautiful and precisely for that reason so contemporary. Almost like a classic didactic piece, an essence. And for BOC the logical consequence of their previous work. Of course, "Campfire Headphase" is also riddled with allusions, concepts, riddles. The image that can be gleaned from the music brings another side into the light: Marcus Eoin and Mike Sanderson were never solely concerned with descending into opaque, mystical worlds, but rather with translating the strange, hard-to-understand of the world into music. To give up riddles that demand to be unraveled. To unfold an epic staging of fundamental conflicts: magic vs. logic, spirituality vs. reason.

How does it feel for you to have a record out? Isn't it always hard to make a cut like that, to expose your music to the public and wait for the reactions?
We are very happy with the new record. It's hard sometimes to find that point where you say, "OK, this is done now," and every once in a while we have to really force ourselves to let a track go. But with this record it was actually the case that we managed to get the sound almost exactly as we wanted to achieve it. In principle we don't really care about the reviews and all the internet chat about our music. We always just try to follow our instincts.
The Campfire Headphase sounds more straightforward than "Geogaddi". Were there differences in the production process, in your approach to music?
Yes. In a way, we wanted to simplify our music. But that was very time consuming compared to the other records. Sounds weird: more time for a reduced sound. But it was like that. Our approach to music actually changes constantly and from record to record. Our ideas and themes change, the music we listen to ... This time we wanted to go back to a simple sound, to distilled melodies. But at the same time, the tracks are still very dense in terms of arrangements.
You've been working together for almost 20 years now. Was there a time in your collaboration when you felt like you were at a dead end?
No, not really. It's more like we feel like we don't have enough time to do everything we'd like to do. Our music changes from record to record, but clearly remains Boards of Canada at its core. We always let a different colored light shine through our music. Also, we're both interested in similar things, similar movies, similar music, art and literature. We somehow never run out of ideas. We are already planning our next project.
Has there been a musical moment for you that you thought about: this is perfect now, this could go on forever?
Yes, that actually happens a lot. Especially with the extremely minimal tracks, with a lost sounding, isolated melody or repetitive phrases. On this album, it's like that with the last track "Farewell Fire". We could have listened to that music forever, so we faded the track out very slowly at the end of the record, so slowly that the track is barely audible for the last two minutes, but the music continues to spin along very quietly.
Do the listeners play any role for you?
That's a difficult question, because on the one hand we always imagine that nobody listens to our music, to produce the music as directly and immediately as possible from ourselves. But out there, of course, are many people who listen very intensely to everything we do. So we play with that a little bit. One of our main goals is to appeal to very deep-seated feelings in the listener ... personal, emotional attachments or a faded memory of someone or something that is lost.
Where does your fascination for "pagan" religions and nature come from? The track "Ataronchronon" could perhaps be seen in this context
"Ataronchronon"is more about the fragmentation of a displaced Indian tribe, it deals with historical tragedy and injustice. While we are interested in religion, we are not religious ourselves. Our interest in both spirituality and nature, in geometry and mathematics, in the grandeur of perceiving the whole, is related to understanding what values and patterns our brains project onto the world. But perhaps the spiritual, science, logic and mathematics can stand side by side. Things sometimes don't seem to be able to be explained scientifically alone. When you hear a beautiful melody, fall in love with someone, whatever ...
On the "A Beautiful Place In The Country" EP, you allude to the Waco Massacre. There, a cult committed a collective suicide. How does that fit in?
The interest in religion comes from our respect and love for the perfection can be seen everywhere on this planet. But in evolutionary terms, humans simply don't have the intellect to really understand. So it reduces itself to a war between logic and spirituality, just like in Waco.
How do you feel about all the interpretations that circulate about your records?
Sometimes we are surprised that people notice small details in our music that we thought they would never notice. On the other hand people just make up things that aren't there. That's why sometimes it actually just gets absurd.

De var först med

title De var först med
author Billy Rimgard
publication Sonic
date 2005/10
issue 25
pages 40-45



"De var först med" is an interview (in Swedish) by Billy Rimgard originally published October 2005 in Sonic magazine Issue 25 (Fall 2005), pp.40-45

This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.

De var först med

De var först med det som ibland brukar kallas folktronica. De var ocksÄ lÀnge ett av vÀrldens hemligaste band. Nu har Boards Of Canada brörjat prata. Billy Rimgard hör myter krossas i ett regnigt Edinburgh.


Text Billy Rimgard


MIN FLIGHT TILL Edinburgh skulle gÄ om mindre Àn tio timmar men jag visste fortfarande inte var, nÀr och hur jag skulle trÀffa Boards Of Canada. Klockan var 22.00 och jag kröp pÄ vÀggarna av oro nÀr ett SMS kom. Museum Of Scotland pÄ Chambers Street, in genom svÀngdörrarna, uppför trapporna, genom huvudutstÀllningen, kafeornrÄdet till höger, klockan fem. Undertecknat "X".


Inte förrÀn ett dygn senare var jag sÀker pÄ att den hÀr artikeln faktiskt skulle bli skriven.


FÄ band Àr lika mytomspunna som Boards Of Canada. Deras genombrott, "Music Has the Right to Children", förÀndrade hela kartan för elektronisk musik nÀr det kom 1998. Albumet var speciellt eftersom det inte hÀmtade sin energi frÄn framtiden utan snarare frÄn gÄrdagen. "Music Has the Right to Children" lÀt som om duon hade försökt Äterskapa sin barndom med samplers och sequencers men inte riktigt fÄtt allt rÀtt - utan i stÀllet byggt bilden pÄ hur de mindes den som vuxna. Musiken var framÄttÀnkande men kÀnslan nostalgisk.


Efter "Music Has the Right ... " drog sig Boards Of Canada tillbaka till sin bas pÄ landsbygden utanför Edinburgh, tog fyra Är pÄ sig att slÀppa uppföljaren "Geogaddi" och tappade dÀrmed ocksÄ kontrollen över sin image. "Geogaddi" var kryddad med ockultism, matematiska formler, referenser till religiösa kulter och geometri. Varje gÄng man lyssnade pÄ den dök nÄgot nytt upp och varje liten detalj betydde nÄgot.


Denna electronicans motsvarighet till "Da Vincikoden" bidrog tillsammans med bandets vÀgran att göra annan promotion Àn ett fÄtal mejlintervjuer till att rykten började spridas. Det sades att de var satanister, att de levde under sektliknande förhÄllanden i ett kreativt kollektiv, att de försökte hjÀrntvÀtta folk genom musiken, att de var hippies.


SĂ„ vad skulle jag tro?


Om jag blev förvÄnad nÀr de tackade ja till en intervju blev jag nÀrmast skrÀckslagen av det dÀr sms-et. Varför skulle nÄgra som inte gjort intervjuer pÄ Ätta Är plötsligt vilja trÀffa en förvirrad svensk om det inte fanns ett syfte med det? Jag sÄg mig sjÀlv bli murbruk i byggandet av myten om Boards Of Canada, en rolig anekdot att ta upp i framtida pressreleaser: "En gÄng lurade de till och med en intet ont anande svensk journalist till ett museum i Edinburgh för att ... "


KLOCKAN ÄR TVÅ MINUTER i fem dagen dĂ€rpĂ„. Jag gĂ„r motströms bland tyska backpackers och japanska turister in i museet, men nĂ€r jag kommer fram Ă€r kafeet tomt. Prick fem börjar dussintals gamla kyrkklockor att ringa, personalen staplar stolar pĂ„ varandra och en vakt stegar fram och ber mig att lĂ€mna lokalen eftersom de stĂ€nger. Jag tror fortfarande inte att det ska bli nĂ„gon intervju. Jag textar till numret som jag dagen innan fick meddelandet ifrĂ„n och ber om en uppdatering. "Om tio minuter utanför huvudentrĂ©n", lyder svaret.


En stund senare sitter jag i balesÀtet pÄ en bil. DÀr fram sitter Marcus Eoin och Michael Sandison och diskuterar vilket stÀlle som Àr bÀst att göra intervjun pÄ, baserat pÄ var det finns parkeringsplatser. Duon som Àr Boards Of Canada berÀttar att de flesta inte vet om det men att hÀlften av befolkningen i Edinburgh Àr lapplisor. De Àr vÀnliga, frÄgar hur resan var, ursÀktar regnet som piskar utanför och sÀger att jag borde försöka komma hit nÄgon mer gÄng sÄ jag fÄr se hur vacker stan Àr med bÀttre vÀder. De Àr sjÀlva motsatsen till de motstrÀviga UNA-bombarliknande excentriker som jag hade förvÀntat mig att trÀffa.


Att vi inte gjort promotion beror inte pÄ att vi Àr blyga eller tillbakadragna. Vi vill bara inte synas sÄ mycket. Vi vill att vÄr publik ska upptÀcka musiken sjÀlva i stÀllet för att bli tillsagda att lyssna pÄ oss genom annonsering,
berÀttar Marcus nÀr vi satt oss ner i en bar.


De har köpt dyr importerad lager till mig och viftar bort pengarna nÀr jag vill betala. De Àr uppriktigt förvÄnande över att nÄgon kan tÀnka sig att Äka frÄn Sverige bara för att prata med dem och sÀger att det minsta de kan göra Àr att bjuda pÄ öl.


Anledningen till att vi gör intervjuer nu Àr att vi vill att journalisterna ska ta trÀffa oss personligen,
fortsÀtter Michael.
Det har skrivits sÄ mycket konstigt om oss att de flesta tror att de kommer hit för att trÀffa tvÄ druider i kaftaner som utför offer pÄ toppen av en vulkan. Nu vill vi trÀffa dem pÄ riktigt för att visa att vi bara Àr tvÄ vanliga killar.


Vi Àr inte Gandalf, vi vandrar inte runt med varsin stav och rabblar formler och vi Àr inte nÄgra hippies,
skrattar Marcus.


DET MÄRKS ATT Boards Of Canada utgörs av tvĂ„ personer som kĂ€nt varandra sedan sandlĂ„dan. De pratar hela tiden om "vi" eller "oss". De avslutar varandras meningar. NĂ€r den ene kör fast i ett resonemang plockar den andre upp trĂ„den och fortsĂ€tter . Marcus kommer med spontana Ă„sikter, sĂ€ger rakt ut vad han tycker och skĂ€mtar mycket. Michael Ă€r lite mer Ă„terhĂ„llsam och försiktig. Han funderar innan han svarar och förklarar ofta nĂ„got som Marcus sagt med en lĂ€ngre utlĂ€ggning som en mer medievan artist förmodligen skulle ha sett som onödig, eftersom lĂ„ngt teoretiserande sĂ€llan gör sig bra i en artikel, I en intervju med Pitchfork Media, gjord efter mitt besök i Edinburgh, pĂ„stod de att de faktiskt Ă€r bröder. Vilket sĂ„ klart kan vara sant men precis lika gĂ€rna inte behöver vara det.


Min intervju med Boards Of Canada Àr deras tredje inför slÀppet av det nya albumet " The Campfire Headphase" och dÀrmed har de gjort fler intervjuer pÄ en vecka Àn de gjort de senaste Ätta Ären. Efter "Music Has the Right to Children" tröttnade de pÄ att bli felciterade och började dÀrför bara kommunicera med omvÀrlden genom epost. Fast inte heller dÄ utan restriktioner, Förutom en mejlintervju med NME valde de att inte svara nÄgra större tidningar utan i stÀllet fick mindre, nischade musikmagasin möjligheten att "prata" med dem. Bandet upptÀckte dÄ att Àven tystnad och mejlintervjuer kan feltolkas.


Vi Àr inte intresserade av hela musikbranschgrejen,
sÀger Marcus.
Vi gÄr inte pÄ alla fester av den enkla anledningen att vi trivs bÀst hemma med vÄra kompisar. Problemet nÀr man Àr frÄnvarande Àr att folk tar saken i egna hÀnder och fyller i de tomma fÀlten. TyvÀrr sammanföll vÄrt beslut att inte göra nÄgra intervjuer med slÀppet av "Geogaddi", sÄ kanske fÄr vi skylla oss sjÀlva lite. Jag tror vi underskattade kraften i att göra en sÄn skiva.


Vi lade till en massa meddelanden för att vi tyckte det var kul. Problemet var att alla inte förstod att det var med glimten i ögat utan i stÀllet tog det pÄ fullaste allvar. Och det trÄkiga var att fokus flyttades frÄn det vi alltid tyckt har varit viktigast, nÀmligen musiken. Ta inte illa upp, men vi började inte göra musik för att vara med i tidningar,
sÀger Michael och ler.


>>GEOGADDI<< VAR ETT mörkt album. Det fanns en pre-apokalyptisk stÀmning över det, som om Boards Of Canada visste nÄgot om vÀrlden som vi andra inte kÀnde till.


Jag Ă€lskade det. I alla fall efter ett tag. NĂ€r jag recenserade "Geogaddi" i Sonic nummer sex hade jag inte ens börjat förstĂ„ omfattningen av det. Även om skivan inte var ett uttalat konceptalbum krĂ€vde den engagemang. Man var tvungen att koncentrera sig för att upptĂ€cka detaljerna och komma musiken inpĂ„ livet. Men nĂ€r jag vĂ€l kommit dit gillade jag det faktiskt mer Ă€n föregĂ„ngaren.


"Geogaddi" var inte bara resultatet av ett band som försökt ta sig vidare i sin musik, det var ocksÄ ett album sÄ fyllt av symboler att sidor dÀr albumet analyserades snart började dyka tipp pÄ internet. LÀser man dÀr stÄr bland annat att ett spÄr som "1969" innehÄller en sampling med namnet "David Koresh" spelat baklÀnges. LÄten Àr 4:19 lÄng, vilket överensstÀmmer med datumet, 19 april 1993, nÀr Koreshs sekt i Waco, Texas, stormades av FBI. LÄttiteln "1969" anspelar pÄ det Är som det blev förbjudet för den amerikanska armén att anvÀnda den typ av gas som Koresh tog livet av sig sjÀlv och sektmedlemmarna med vid massakern i Waco.


UngefÀr tvÄ tredjedelar av det som stÄr pÄ internetsidorna finns pÄ albumet, resten har de hittat pÄ sjÀlva,
skrattar Marcus.
Det Àr lite som Kabbala. Man tar en sida ur Toran, hÄller den upp och ned framför en spegel och sÀger" Titta! Jag ser en bokstav hÀr uppe! Allt stÀmmer nu! Det Àr sant!".


MÀnniskan Àr programmerad att hitta mönster,
sÀger Michael.
Till och med nÀr vi Àr bebisar lÀr vi oss att kÀnna igen ansikten och röster. Om nÄgon tror att vÄr musik Àr byggd pÄ symboler och börjar leta sÄ kommer de ocksÄ att hitta dem.
Vi tappade greppet om vad Boards Of Canada faktiskt Àr,
sÀger Marcus.
Andra började definiera vad bandet var Ät oss, och det Àr dÀrför vi gör intervjuer nu. Vi vill visa vem det Àr som kör den hÀr bussen.


OM "GEOGADDI" SKAPADE den stora myten om Boards Of Canada var det deras första stora album, "Music Has the Right to Children", som lade bandets namn pÄ allas lÀppar.


Marcus, Michael och deras kompisar hade experimenterat med musik bokstavligen sedan barnsben. Sedermera blev de en duo och slÀppte pÄ egen hand debutalbumet "Twoism" 1995, men det dröjde ytterligare tre Är innan genombrottet kom.


Under nittiotalet var det ofta skivbolaget Warp som gav ut de mest innovativa elektroniska producenterna. Namn som Aphex Twin, Luke Vibert och Squarepusher slÀppte skivor med galna jungletrummor och sabbade lÀten som gjorde albumen till ovÀsensymfonier i nÄgot slags blandning av ravekultur, fusionjazz och avancerad elektronisk ljudbehandling.


NÀr Warp stÀllde sig bakom "Music Has the Right to Children" blev Boards Of Canadas lÀgereldselectronica en kontrast till bolagets övriga, lÀtt hysteriska profil. Duon lÀt verkligen inte som nÄgonting annat. Visst hade det funnits producenter som i mÄnga Är gjort ambient elektronisk musik men det handlade ofta om att mixa in delfinljud och att det skulle lÄta fint. "Music Has the Right ... " var harmonisk men samtidigt vÀldigt skev. Det var hela tiden nÄgonting som "inte stÀmde". Boards Of Canada spelade vackra ackord fast med trasiga, ostÀmda ljud. De samplade informationsfilmer och glada smÄ barn som de spelade upp över spöklika analogsynthar. Dessutom anvÀnde de sig av hiphopbeats och akustiska instrument som de samplade och sedan förstörde, vilket gav en egen klang.


Marcus berÀttar att det skeva kommer frÄn nÀr en av dem ber den andra att "göra nÄgot diagonalt". Uppmaningen att "göra nÄgot diagonalt" betyder i deras studio att lÀgga till ljud som bryter av det linjÀra, nÄgot som gÄr rakt emot hur lÄten Àr uppbyggd.


NÀr "Music Has the Right ... " gavs ut blev den för mig ett uppvaknande. PÄ den tiden levde jag nog i en vÀrld dÀr elektronisk musik antingen var psykedelisk ravegalenskap eller ambient myspys. Boards Of Canada landade nÄgonstans mitt emellan. I sin musik var de inte heller rÀdda för att fÄnga kÀnslan frÄn dimmiga höststrÀnder eller frÄn tysta campingnÀtter pÄ höglandet. Skivan satte helt enkelt en standard. Boards Of Canada influerade elektroniska producenter ( frÄn mindre kÀnda som Ten And Tracer eller Faction till större namn som Four Tet), de nÀmndes hela tiden av Radiohead som inspiration vid inspelningen av "Kid A" och de vari princip det första bandet i en lÄng rad som senare lite tveksamt skulle etiketteras som "folktronica",


Jag anser att de har varit för den drömska elektroniska musiken vad Ramones var för punkrocken, men Boards Of Canada sjÀlva hÄller inte med om det.


Jag skulle aldrig sÀga att nÄgon annan lÄter som oss bara pÄ grund av att de har lyssnat pÄ oss, för det vore rent skitsnack,
sÀger Marcus.
Vissa som gillade plattan kanske fick idéer och rörde sig Ät det hÄllet i deras egen musik, men sÄ har ju vi ocksÄ gjort nÀr man hört nÄgot bra och tÀnkt "Äh, sÄhÀr borde vi göra".


Det kan ocksÄ ha varit sÄ att det fanns andra som gjorde samma sak som vi hela tiden men som efter att vi kom fram upptÀckte att det fanns en publik för den sortens musik,
sÀger Michael.
NÀr det gÀller de uppenbara lÄnen har det faktiskt mest varit vÀldigt smickrande att höra. Den enda gÄng det har kÀnts jobbigt var nÀr lÄtlistan till " The Campfire Headphase" kom ut och nÄgra spred lÄtar som de gjort sjÀlva pÄ internet under namnet Boards Of Canada, med titlar hÀmtade frÄn albumet. De innehÄller barnröster, hiphopbeats och alla vÄra kÀnnetecken.


PÄ ett sÀtt Àr det bra,
fortsÀtter Marcus.
De som gör karbonkopior av vÄr musik pÄ det sÀttet visar att det gÄr att göra parodier pÄ vÄrt sound. DÀrför blir de hÀr parodierna motivation för oss att hitta nya sÀtt att uttrycka oss pÄ.


SJÄLVA TYCKER MARCUS och Michael att "Twoism" kĂ€ndes betydligt mer banbrytande nĂ€rd de gjorde det och att albumet som kom att bli deras första framgĂ„ng bara var en naturlig uppföljning.


Jag frÄgar om de helt Àrligt verkligen inte har mÀrkt vilken pÄverkan deras genombrott hade pÄ den elektroniska musiken under Ären som kom. De svarar att de inte kan se sÄdant frÄn sitt perspektiv och att de respekterar andra kompositörer för mycket för att kunna ta pÄ sig nÄgon sorts Àra. Först vet jag inte vad jag ska tro, men vartefter timmarna gÄr förstÄr jag att det inte Àr nÄgon pÄklÀdd ödmjukhet utan att de faktiskt bara gjort musik de sjÀlva gillar och pÄ ett lite naivt sÀtt faktiskt inte förstÄr hur jag kan sitta och komma med sÄdana pÄstÄenden.


De medger dock att soundet frÄn "Music Has the Right ... " inte lÀngre Àr unikt. För nÄgon som blev intresserad av elektronisk musik nyligen framstÄr albumet förmodligen som ganska standardiserad electronica, eftersom det slÀppts sÄ myket musik vars utgÄngspunkt finns i det albumet.

Efter "Geogaddi" skreven del recensenter att "det hÀr Àr vanlig bakgrundselectronica",
ler Michael.
Men nÀr vi gjorde "Music Has the Right to Children" höll andra pÄ med jungle och dÄ var vi inte bara vanlig bakgrundselectronica. Problemet med "Geogaddi" var att det tog fyra Àr för oss att slÀppa skivan, sÄ vi missade nog tÄget lite grann.


Det har varit ett bekymmer för oss,
sÀger Marcus.
Det Àr lite sorgligt nÀr man mÀrker att ett sound som man tyckte kÀndes helt nytt och frÀscht nu plötsligt Àr allmÀnt utbrett. Det har fÄtt oss att stanna upp och tÀnka "var finns det plat för oss nu?".


"THE CAMPFIRE HEADPHASE" Àr mer avskalad och innehÄller fler akustiska instrument Àn tidigare. Som vanligt krÀver den tid för att förstÄs men de direkta associationerna Àr lika starka som vanligt. Jag satt med albumet i hörlurarna pÄ vÀg till Edinburgh. Musiken ackompanjerade vackert och perfekt nÀr flygplanet bröt upp genom molntÀcket och mötte solljuset. Samtidigt kÀndes det som att jag satt pÄ en dömd flight, ett plan som snart skulle ligga i spillror pÄ en skotsk Äker. Kontrasterna har alltid varit styrkan i Boards Of Canadas musik.


Med "The Campfire Headphase" försökte vi göra det sÄ enkelt som möjligt,
förklarar Michael.
Vi ville skala ner allt till grunden och skriva musik som var enkel. Albumet Àr en roadmovie om en man som parkerar sin bil och slÄr upp sitt tÀlt. Musiken Àr det som pÄgÄr i mannens huvud nÀr han sitter framför lÀgerelden innan han gÄr och lÀgger sig. Albumet lÀckte ut pÄ nÀtet nu i veckan och jag lÀste lite reaktioner pÄ ett diskussionsforum. HÀlften sa "de var mycket bÀttre pÄ 'Music Has the Right to Children', varför kan de inte lÄta sÄ i stÀllet för att experimentera?". Den andra hÀlften sa "Àh, de lÄter ju precis som de alltid har gjort". Det gÄr helt enkelt inte att vinna.


Damned if you do, damned if you don't,
sÀger Marcus och rycker pÄ axlarna.


Jag Àlskar fortfarande "Music Has the Right to Children" men vi skulle aldrig kunna göra ett album som lÄter sÄ nu.

Boards Of Canadas sparsamma utgivningstakt har inte bara bidragit till rykten om deras förmodat mÀrkliga liv utan ocksÄ byggt upp stor förvÀntan bland fansen inför varje slÀpp.

Vi har alltid haft bra skÀl till att inte slÀppa album sÄ ofta,
sÀger Michael.
Inför "The Campfire Headphase" flyttade vi till nya studior och sÄ blev jag pappa. SÀttet vi arbetar pÄ gör ocksÄ att det tar lÄng tid för oss.
Tittar man pÄ band pÄ sjuttio- och Ättiotalen slÀppte de inte nya album varje Är,
sÀger Marcus.
De riktiga banden, som Led Zeppelin, tog ibland tvÄ-tre Är pÄ sig av helt naturliga skÀl som turnéer, privatliv och sÄnt. I dag Àr det sÄ orimliga krav pÄ att man ska vara produktiv. Allt ska gÄ snabbt och problemet med det Àr att det sÀnker kvaliteten pÄ musiken. Vi hade kunnat slÀppa en ny skiva tolv mÄnader efter "Geogaddi", men den hade inte blivit lika bra.
Om jag bodde hemma hos mina förÀldrar och inte hade nÄgot ansvar skulle jag kunna sÀtta mig vid laptopen med ett par hörlurar och slÀppa ett nytt album varje vecka,
sÀger Michael.


DET REGNAR FORTFARANDE nĂ€r vi bryter upp frĂ„n baren. Jag erbjuds skjuts hem till mitt hotell och pĂ„ vĂ€gen upprepar Marcus att det Ă€r en fördom att det alltid regnar i Edinburgh och pĂ„minner om att jag borde komma hit igen för att se stan frĂ„n sin rĂ€tta sida. Jag har precis tackat för skjutsen och ska kliva ur nĂ€r det slĂ„r mig att den viktigaste frĂ„gan faktiskt inte har stĂ€llts. Den röda trĂ„den genom Boards Of Canadas alla skivor Ă€r ju Ă€ndĂ„ lĂ€gerelden. Vare sig den Ă€r med bokstavligen eller bara i stĂ€mningen finns det alltid en lĂ€gereld med i deras lĂ„tar. Är den ocksĂ„ bara en del av den stora myten som Michael och Marcus under de senaste timmarna hackat i bitar framför min bandspelare?

Vi sÀger sÄ hÀr ... Om jag mÄste vÀlja mellan att gÄ pÄ en fullpackad klubb i London och dansa eller att Äka ut till en öde strand och campa med nÄgra kompisar och en flaska vin sÄ föredrar jag det sistnÀmnda alla dagar i veckan,
sÀger Marcus.
Men vi Àr inga hippies eller sÄ,
tillÀgger Michael snabbt.


Note: translation by twoism.org user "bungler666")

They were the first to join


They were the first with what is sometimes called folktronica. For a long time they were also one of the world's most secret bands. Now Boards Of Canada have started talking. Billy Rimgard hears myths being debunked in a rainy Edinburgh.


Text: Billy Rimgard


My flight to Edinburgh would leave in less than ten hours but I still didn't know where, when and how I would meet Boards Of Canada. The time was 22:00 and I was crawling on the walls with worry when a text message came. The Museum Of Scotland on Chambers Street, through the swinging doors, up the stairs, through the main exhibition, the cafe area on the right, five o’clock. Signed "X".


Not until a day later was I sure that this article would actually be written.


Few bands are as shrouded in myth as Boards Of Canada. Their breakthrough, "Music Has the Right to Children", changed the entire map for electronic music when it came out in 1998. The album was special because it did not derive its energy from the future but ratherly, from the past. "Music Has the Right to Children" sounded like the duo had tried to recreate their childhood with samplers and sequencers but hadn’t got everything quite right. Instead, they had built the picture on how they remembered it as adults. The music was forward thinking but the feeling was nostalgic.


After "Music Has the Right 
”, Boards Of Canada retreated to their base in the countryside outside Edinburgh, took four years to release the sequel "Geogaddi" and thus also lost control of their image. "Geogaddi" was spiced with occultism, mathematical formulas, references to religious cults and geometry. Every time you listened to it something new appeared and every little detail meant something.


This electronic equivalent to the "Da Vinci Code", together with the band's refusal to do any promotion other than a few interviews by email contributed to the spread of many rumours. It was said that they were Satanists, that they lived under cult-like conditions in a creative collective, that they tried to brainwash people through the music, that they were hippies.


So what would I believe?


If I was surprised when they said yes to an interview, I was almost terrified by that text message. Why would anyone who has not done interviews in eight years suddenly want to meet a confused Swede if there was no purpose for it? I saw myself becoming another brick in the construction of the myth of Boards Of Canada, a fun anecdote to address in future press releases: "Once upon a time they even tricked an unsuspecting Swedish journalist into a museum in Edinburgh to ..."


The clock is to minutes to five the next day. I walk counter-current among German backpackers and Japanese tourists into the museum but when I arrive, the cafe is empty. At five o’clock sharp, dozens of old church bells start ringing, the staff starts piling chairs on top of each other and a guard steps forward and asks me to leave the room as they are closing. I still don't believe any interview is going to take place. I text the number I got the message from the day before and ask for an update. “In ten minutes outside the main entrance," the answer reads.


A few moments later I’m sitting in the back seat of a car. In the front seat, Marcus Eoin and Michael Sandison are discussing which place is best to do the interview, based on where there are parking spaces. The duo who are Boards Of Canada tell me that most people don't know about it, but about half of Edinburgh's population are meter maids. They are friendly, ask me how the trip was, apologize for the rain hammering down outside and say that I should try to come here again some other time so I can see how beautiful the city is with better weather. They are the very opposite of the abrasive UNA bomber-like eccentrics that I had expected to meet.

The fact that we did not do promotion is not because we are shy or withdrawn. We just don't want to be seen that much. We want our audience to discover the music themselves rather than being told to listen to us through advertising,

says Marcus when we have sat down in a bar.


They have bought me expensive imported lager and when I want to pay them for it, they wave the money away. They are genuinely surprised that anyone could think of traveling from Sweden just to talk to them and say that the least they can do is buy me a beer.

The reason why we do interviews now is that we want journalists to meet us in person,

continues Michael.


There has been so much strange things written about us that most people think they will come here to meet two druids in caftans who make sacrifices on top of a volcano. Now we really want to meet them to show that we are just two ordinary guys.

We are not Gandalf, we do not wander around with staffs rambling formulas and we are not hippies,

Marcus laughs.


It is noticeable that Boards Of Canada are two people who have known each other since the sandbox. They always talk about "we" or "us". They end each other's sentences. When one gets stuck in reasoning, the other picks up the thread and continues. Marcus comes with spontaneous remarks, are not afraid to say what he thinks and jokes a lot. Michael is a little more restrained and careful. He contemplates before answering and is often caught explaining something Marcus has said with longer explication and more detail. Something that a more media-savvy artist would probably have seen as unnecessary, since drawn-out theorizing rarely does well in an article. In an interview with Pitchfork Media, done after my visit in Edinburgh, they claimed to be brothers. Which of course might be true but might just as well not be.


My interview with Boards Of Canada is their third before the release of the new album "The Campfire Headphase" and thus they have done more interviews in a week than they have in the last eight years. After "Music Has the Right to Children" they got tired of being misinterpreted and therefore started communicating with the outside world only via email. Although not without restrictions. Excluding a mail interview with NME, they chose not to talk to any major magazines but instead gave smaller, more niche music magazines the opportunity to "talk" to them. The band then discovered that even silence and email interviews can be misinterpreted.

We are not interested in the whole music industry stuff,

says Marcus.

We refrain from going to all the parties for the simple reason that we would rather be at home with our friends. The problem when you are absent is that people take the matter into their own hands and fill in the blanks. Unfortunately, our decision to not do any interviews coincided with the release of "Geogaddi", so maybe we can blame ourselves a little. I think we underestimated the power of making such a record.


We added a lot of messages because we thought it was fun. The problem was that not everyone understood it was done in a tongue in cheek sort of way but instead took it very seriously. And the sad thing was that the focus shifted from what we always thought was most important, namely the music. No offense, but we didn't start making music to be in magazines,

says Michael and smiles.


Geogaddi was a dark album. It had a pre-apocalyptic feeling to it, as if Boards Of Canada knew something about the world we others didn't know.


I loved it. At least after a while. When I reviewed "Geogaddi" in Sonic number six, I hadn't even begun to understand the extent of it. Although the album was not a pronounced concept album, it required dedication from the listener. You had to concentrate to discover the details and get into the music. But once I got there, I actually liked it more than its predecessor.


"Geogaddi" was not only the result of a band trying to move forward with their music, it was also an album so packed with symbolism that entire pages where the album was analyzed soon began to appear on the internet. If you read there it says, among other things, that a track like "1969" contains a sample with the name "David Koresh" played backwards. The song is 4:19 long, which corresponds to the date, April 19, 1993, when Koresh's cult in Waco, Texas, was stormed by the FBI. The song title "1969" refers to the year when it became illegal for the US Army to use the type of gas that Koresh killed himself and the cult members at the Waco massacre with.

About two-thirds of what is said on these internet pages is on the album, the rest they have made up themselves,

Marcus laughs.

It's a bit like Kabbalah. You take a page out of the Torah, hold it up and down in front of a mirror and say "Look! I see a letter up here! Everything makes sense now! It's true!".


Man is programmed to find patterns,

says Michael.

Even when we are babies, we learn to recognize faces and voices. If someone believes that our music is built on symbols and starts looking, they will find them too.


We lost our grip on what Boards Of Canada really is,

says Marcus.

Others began to define what the band was instead of us, which is why we are doing interviews now. We want to show who it is driving this bus.


If “Geogaddi” created the great myth of Boards Of Canada, it was their first major album, "Music Has the Right to Children", that put the band's name on everyone's lips.


Marcus, Michael and their friends had been experimenting with music literally since childhood. Later they became a duo and released their debut album "Twoism" in 1995, but it took another three years before the breakthrough came.


During the 1990s, it was often the record label Warp that released the most innovative electronic producers. Names such as Aphex Twin, Luke Vibert and Squarepusher released records with crazy jungle drums and messed up sounds that made the albums noise-symphonies in some kind of mix of rave culture, fusion jazz and advanced electronic sound processing.


When Warp released "Music Has the Right to Children", Boards Of Canada's campfire electronica became a contrast to the label’s other, slightly hysterical profile. The duo really didn't sound like anything else. Sure, there had been producers making ambient electronic music since many years back but that music was mostly about mixing in dolphin sounds and making it all sound nice. ”Music Has the Right ..." was harmonious but at the same time quite wacky. There was always something that was "not right". Boards Of Canada played beautiful chords with broken, out of tune sounds. They sampled informational videos and happy little children and played it over ghostly analog synths. In addition, they used hip-hop beats and acoustic instruments that they sampled and then processed to death, giving them their own sound.


Marcus says that the wackiness comes from when one of them asks the other to "do something diagonal". The call to "do something diagonal" means, in their studio, to add sounds that break off the linear, something that goes directly against how the song is constructed.


When "Music Has the Right ..." was released it became an awakening for me. At that time, I lived in a world where electronic music was either psychedelic rave madness or comfy ambient. Boards Of Canada landed somewhere in between. In their music, they were also not afraid to capture the feeling of foggy beaches in the autumn or of quiet camping nights in the highlands. The record simply set a standard. Boards Of Canada influenced electronic producers (from lesser known acts such as Ten And Tracer or Faction to bigger names like Four Tet), they were constantly mentioned by Radiohead as inspiration in the recording of "Kid A" and were essentially the first band in a long line to later be doubtfully labeled as "folktronica",


I believe that they have been for dreamy electronic music what Ramones were for punk rock, but Boards Of Canada themselves disagree.


I would never say that someone else sounds like us just because they have listened to us, because that would be pure bullshit,

says Marcus.

Some who liked the record might have gotten ideas and moved in that direction with their own music, but so have we when we have heard something good and thought "oh, we should do this”.


There may also have been others who have done the same things as us since the beginning but who, only after we emerged, discovered that there was an audience for that kind of music,

says Michael.

Concerning the obvious borrowing, it has mostly been very flattering to hear. The only time it felt awkward was when the track list for "The Campfire Headphase" was released and some people started spreading songs that they had made themselves on the internet under the name Boards Of Canada, with titles taken from the album. They include children's voices, hip hop beats and all of our features.


It’s good in a way,

continues Marcus.

Those who make carbon copies of our music in this way show that it is possible to parody our sound. Therefore, these parodies become motivation for us to find new ways of expressing ourselves.


Marcus and Michael themselves think that “Twoism" felt a lot more groundbreaking when they made it and that the album that came to be their first success was just a natural follow-up.


I ask if they honestly have not really noticed what impact their breakthrough had on electronic music over the years to come. They respond that they cannot see such things from their perspective and that they respect other composers too much to be able to take on any sort of pride. At first I do not know what to believe, but as the hours go on I understand that there is no faked humility and that they have actually just made music they like and in a slightly naive way do not understand how I can sit and make such claims .


They admit however that the sound of "Music Has the Right ..." is no longer unique. To someone who has recently became interested in electronic music, the album probably appear as pretty standard electronica, since so much music rooted in the sounds of that album has been released since.

After "Geogaddi", some reviewers wrote that "this is just ordinary background electronica”,

Michael smiles.

But when we did "Music Has the Right to Children" others were doing jungle and then we were not just ordinary background electronica. The problem with "Geogaddi" was that it took us four years to drop the album, so we probably missed the train a little bit.


It has been a concern for us,

says Marcus.

It is a bit sad when you notice that a sound you once thought felt brand new and fresh is now suddenly widespread. It has made us stop and think "where is there place for us now?”.


"The Campfire Headphase" is more stripped down and contains more acoustic instruments than before. As usual, it requires time to be understood, but the direct associations are as strong as usual. I sat with the album in my headphones on my way to Edinburgh. The music beautifully and perfectly accompanied the moment when the airplane broke through the clouds and met the sunlight. At the same time it felt like I was sitting on a doomed flight, a plane that soon would lie in ruins on a Scottish field. The contrasts have always been the strength in Boards Of Canada's music.

With "The Campfire Headphase" we tried to make it as simple as possible,

explains Michael.

We wanted to scale everything down to the core and write music that was simple. The album is a road movie about a man who parks his car and pitches his tent. The music is what goes on in the man's head as he sits in front of the campfire before he goes to bed. The album leaked online this week and I read some reactions to it on a discussion forum. Half said "they were a lot better on 'Music Has the Right to Children', why can't they sound like that instead of experimenting?". The other half said "uh, they sound just like they always did". It's simply not possible to win.
Damned if you don't, damned if you don't,

says Marcus and shrugs.

I still love "Music Has the Right to Children" but we could never make an album that sounds like that now.


Boards Of Canada's frugal release rate has not only contributed to rumors about their supposedly strange life, but has also built up a lot of expectation among the fans before each release.

We have always had good reasons for not releasing albums so often,

says Michael.

Before "The Campfire Headphase" we moved to a new studio and I became a dad. The way we work also means that it takes us a long time to do things.


If you look at bands in the seventies and eighties, they didn't release new albums every year,

says Marcus.

The real bands, like Led Zeppelin, sometimes took two to three years for completely natural reasons such as tours, private life and stuff. Today, there are such unreasonable demands that one must be productive. Everything should go fast and the problem with that is that it lowers the quality of the music. We could have released a new record twelve months after "Geogaddi", but it would not have been as good.


If I lived at home with my parents and had no responsibility, I could sit down at the laptop with a pair of headphones and release a new album every week,

says Michael.


It still rains when we exit the bar. I am offered a ride home to my hotel and on the way Marcus repeats that it is a prejudice that it always rains in Edinburgh and reminds me that I should come here again some other time to see the city from its right side. I have just said thanks for the ride and started to exit the car when it strikes me that the most important question has not actually been asked. After all, the common thread through Boards Of Canada's records is the campfire. Whether it is there literally or just in the mood, there is always a campfire in their songs. Is it also just a part of the big myth that Michael and Marcus during the recent hours have chopped into pieces in front of my tape recorder?

Let me put it this way ... If I have to choose between going to a packed club in London and dance or going out to a deserted beach and camp with some friends and a bottle of wine, I would pick the latter every day of the week,

says Marcus.


But we're not hippies or anything,

Michael quickly adds.


The Great Escape

title The Great Escape
author Mark Robertson
publication The List
date 2005/10
issue Issue 533
pages 18-19



"The Great Escape" is an interview by Mark Robertson originally published Oct. 2005 in The List magazine Issue 533, pages 18-19.

This is an original text copied verbatim from the original source. Do not edit this text to correct errors or misspellings. Aside from added wikilinks, this text is exactly as it originally appeared.

They have made some of the most evocative and uncategorisable music of recent times. Mark Robertson speaks to BOARDS OF CANADA about making records, starting families and the spaces between the notes.


Boards of Canada's music is weird. Weird in a good way, that is. Good music should make the listener feel, be it happy, sad, adrenalised, even angry or confused. An emotional response is the most an artist can hope for from the listener. Boards of Canada’s music - and even after speaking to them it's still not entirely clear why - is among the most emotive, touchy feely noise you could find.

There is a sense of vast space, an air of melancholy. Keyboards burble, snare drums twang and barely audible children giggle and shriek in delight. And