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Goldie (Metalheadz, Rhino Records) @ 6 Mix Residents Preview Showcase (25.10.2013)
Goldie (Metalheadz, Rhino Records) @ 6 Mix Residents Preview Showcase (25.10.2013)
There was a point in the late 90s where it looked like Clifford Price, aka Goldie, might be the first dance music artist to become a full-on mainstream megastar. With rock music in its post-Cobain slump and hip-hop’s bling period in full swing, some people were certain that pop music’s next messiah would come out of what everyone was calling the “electronica” community, and Price seemed to fit the bill. After his 1995 debut album Timeless became the most popular drum'n'bass record yet, he was the biggest thing in the coolest kind of dance music, and with his acting roles, high-profile romantic relationship with Björk, and distinctive futuristic gangster-punk image he displayed an obvious talent for doing superstar-ish things. Even Noel Gallagher, who’s never been an outspoken fan of non-guitar-based music, appeared on his second album, a sprawling double album that underlined how well Price fit the established idea of a pop star.
But even though Price looked like a superstar and acted like a superstar, he didn’t sound like one. It’s not that he lacked for pop instincts-- his collaboration with Gallagher was an amply-hooked, razor-sharp fusion of drum'n'bass and punk rock-- his artistic vision was based around hard, uncompromising beats and grandiose aesthetic statements like songs with hour-long running times. He would have been the perfect premillennial video star, if only he wasn’t so intent on making music that would alienate MTV viewers.
Compared to the big, broad, gregarious sounds of big beat artists like Fatboy Slim and the Chemical Brothers who were doing the best job of selling mainstream American on electronic dance music, drum'n'bass seemed downright antisocial. The 160 BPM that the average d&b track clocked in at was far outside the comfort zone for most pop ears, with breaks that were designed to keep a listener from getting too comfortable with a groove. And its makers and fans tended to prefer the shadows to the spotlight, both metaphorically and literally-- the London clubs the scene coalesced around were pioneers of anti-promotion, and their dance floors were often underlit to the point of near-total darkness.
And for all of his apparent pop ambition, Price was one of the biggest proponents of this aspect. The Metalheadz crew he headed up was considered the gold standard for bafflingly complex beats built with a minimum of moving parts and for basslines that dove down to frequencies that could only be reproduced on extremely high-end sound systems-- even then they were more felt than heard. Its skull-with-headphones logo served a role as something like the Jesus Fish for hardcore drum'n'bass freaks. Goldie may have wanted to go big, but only on his own radical terms.
It turned out that rock had at least one more comeback in it, Jay-Z and Missy Elliott had been just waiting for a chance to make hip-hop cooler and weirder than it had ever been, and the “electronica” revolution wouldn’t happen for another decade, by which time it had been rebranded “EDM.” drum'n'bass itself never got a foothold in America outside of car commercials and action movie chase sequences, and as the form mutated into 2-step and dubstep Price slowed his previously hectic release schedule back to a trickle and devoted himself to appearing on a variety of British reality TV shows.
Drum'n'bass is overdue for a real revival, though. In the wake of dubstep getting Skrillex-ified a few producers tried heading back to the genre’s antecedent, but the movement never managed to reach critical mass. The two discs of the new anthology The Alchemist: The Best of Goldie 1992-2012 covering the span of Price’s career make a compelling argument that the world may finally be ready for him.
Disc two, which emphasizes Price’s jazzier, more tuneful side is decent. In his mellower moments he indulges in a taste for 70s soul, but he often verges on smooth jazz, and his choice in vocalists runs toward the workmanlike. The third disc, which collects remixes of his work done by other artists, has more than its fair share of moments, although few feel essential. But it’s the first disc, focussing on his darker, more hard-edged material, where Price’s considerable allure snaps back into focus after years of looking increasingly irrelevant.
Some of drum'n'bass’ appeal has always been its potential to overwhelm the listener, usually through its hyperfast breakbeats and physically aggressive sub bass. The first disc of The Alchemist, though, is stunning in its gracefulness. Price balances the style’s assertive elements with slashes of ambient atmospherics, its headbanging tendencies with dubby mellow vibes, and a particular kind of deeply nocturnal feel that’s frequently referred to as “icy” with a warm human heartbeat. It’s the rare career retrospective that not only sounds good for the time it was recorded during, but sounds good for right now.
Listening to a track like 1992’s “Terminator”, credited to his Rufige Kru, it’s obvious why Price never became the megastar some people hoped he’d be. The song has grace and balance, but repeatedly alternates between a hyperspeed beat based on the Amen break and drawn-out moments of ambient freefall, teasing the listener with rhythmic feints and jabs that won’t let them find their balance. By the time a cluster of ravey synth stabs drops in halfway through it almost seems like a taunt, a reminder of the relative normalcy of an average house track. It’s a mean song, but it’s so well designed that being batted around by it is a pleasure. And after two decades after its release it doesn’t sound any less alien, or any less perfect.
2013-10-25 - Goldie (Metalhmp3 (21,30 MB) - uploaded.net
There was a point in the late 90s where it looked like Clifford Price, aka Goldie, might be the first dance music artist to become a full-on mainstream megastar. With rock music in its post-Cobain slump and hip-hop’s bling period in full swing, some people were certain that pop music’s next messiah would come out of what everyone was calling the “electronica” community, and Price seemed to fit the bill. After his 1995 debut album Timeless became the most popular drum'n'bass record yet, he was the biggest thing in the coolest kind of dance music, and with his acting roles, high-profile romantic relationship with Björk, and distinctive futuristic gangster-punk image he displayed an obvious talent for doing superstar-ish things. Even Noel Gallagher, who’s never been an outspoken fan of non-guitar-based music, appeared on his second album, a sprawling double album that underlined how well Price fit the established idea of a pop star.
But even though Price looked like a superstar and acted like a superstar, he didn’t sound like one. It’s not that he lacked for pop instincts-- his collaboration with Gallagher was an amply-hooked, razor-sharp fusion of drum'n'bass and punk rock-- his artistic vision was based around hard, uncompromising beats and grandiose aesthetic statements like songs with hour-long running times. He would have been the perfect premillennial video star, if only he wasn’t so intent on making music that would alienate MTV viewers.
Compared to the big, broad, gregarious sounds of big beat artists like Fatboy Slim and the Chemical Brothers who were doing the best job of selling mainstream American on electronic dance music, drum'n'bass seemed downright antisocial. The 160 BPM that the average d&b track clocked in at was far outside the comfort zone for most pop ears, with breaks that were designed to keep a listener from getting too comfortable with a groove. And its makers and fans tended to prefer the shadows to the spotlight, both metaphorically and literally-- the London clubs the scene coalesced around were pioneers of anti-promotion, and their dance floors were often underlit to the point of near-total darkness.
And for all of his apparent pop ambition, Price was one of the biggest proponents of this aspect. The Metalheadz crew he headed up was considered the gold standard for bafflingly complex beats built with a minimum of moving parts and for basslines that dove down to frequencies that could only be reproduced on extremely high-end sound systems-- even then they were more felt than heard. Its skull-with-headphones logo served a role as something like the Jesus Fish for hardcore drum'n'bass freaks. Goldie may have wanted to go big, but only on his own radical terms.
It turned out that rock had at least one more comeback in it, Jay-Z and Missy Elliott had been just waiting for a chance to make hip-hop cooler and weirder than it had ever been, and the “electronica” revolution wouldn’t happen for another decade, by which time it had been rebranded “EDM.” drum'n'bass itself never got a foothold in America outside of car commercials and action movie chase sequences, and as the form mutated into 2-step and dubstep Price slowed his previously hectic release schedule back to a trickle and devoted himself to appearing on a variety of British reality TV shows.
Drum'n'bass is overdue for a real revival, though. In the wake of dubstep getting Skrillex-ified a few producers tried heading back to the genre’s antecedent, but the movement never managed to reach critical mass. The two discs of the new anthology The Alchemist: The Best of Goldie 1992-2012 covering the span of Price’s career make a compelling argument that the world may finally be ready for him.
Disc two, which emphasizes Price’s jazzier, more tuneful side is decent. In his mellower moments he indulges in a taste for 70s soul, but he often verges on smooth jazz, and his choice in vocalists runs toward the workmanlike. The third disc, which collects remixes of his work done by other artists, has more than its fair share of moments, although few feel essential. But it’s the first disc, focussing on his darker, more hard-edged material, where Price’s considerable allure snaps back into focus after years of looking increasingly irrelevant.
Some of drum'n'bass’ appeal has always been its potential to overwhelm the listener, usually through its hyperfast breakbeats and physically aggressive sub bass. The first disc of The Alchemist, though, is stunning in its gracefulness. Price balances the style’s assertive elements with slashes of ambient atmospherics, its headbanging tendencies with dubby mellow vibes, and a particular kind of deeply nocturnal feel that’s frequently referred to as “icy” with a warm human heartbeat. It’s the rare career retrospective that not only sounds good for the time it was recorded during, but sounds good for right now.
Listening to a track like 1992’s “Terminator”, credited to his Rufige Kru, it’s obvious why Price never became the megastar some people hoped he’d be. The song has grace and balance, but repeatedly alternates between a hyperspeed beat based on the Amen break and drawn-out moments of ambient freefall, teasing the listener with rhythmic feints and jabs that won’t let them find their balance. By the time a cluster of ravey synth stabs drops in halfway through it almost seems like a taunt, a reminder of the relative normalcy of an average house track. It’s a mean song, but it’s so well designed that being batted around by it is a pleasure. And after two decades after its release it doesn’t sound any less alien, or any less perfect.
2013-10-25 - Goldie (Metalhmp3 (21,30 MB) - uploaded.net
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