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An intriguing release has appeared from the Moscow label Datenbits, more specifically from Bitscrapped, aka Petr Korotkov. Datenbits describes the tracks in this post as their "autumn release." Given the rarity of these seasonal publications, Bitscrapped's contribution to the general worldview of his label has been shaped with care and deliberation.
Put differently, the philosophy of our chosen artist is not accidental.
Korotkov's moniker was first made public in 2008. From the outset it was designed to represent something of an alter ego. The music we hear, continuing this semi-theatrical venture, was seen as a fitting "soundtrack" to the life of a fictitious character. "The music would express Bitscrapped's consciousness from within. His reaction to events - and everything else happening in the world, too." In that case, this is a soundtrack to our environment, also.
The resulting noises have been described by their maker (rather vaguely!) as "a partial evocation of some eternal interaction between elements - and the role within that interaction of a single beat." With that puzzling statement, all textual support comes to an end. A closer look at the other Bitscrapped releases, however, will bring a little clarity to the proceedings, turning strange phrases (fit for a chemistry primer) into more overtly social statements.
Where "elements" can be understood as "people."
Earlier work done by Korotkov for Datenbits - under the same stage name - was gathered at the start of 2010 as a three-track release. Each of those compositions was designed to epitomize a certain "musical style or, if you will, substance." Once again, faux-chemical terms were being used to speak of broader, social interactions.
Quite how will be clear in a moment.
Listeners, en route to that clarity, were discouraged from seeking any direct parallels between the track names and musical content. To actively refrain, however, from any thoughts about the meaning of instrumentals provocatively labelled as "Sentimental Pornography" or "Triggers Dance" was difficult! In both cases a term of emotional engagement (sentiment or dance) was roped together with another, more violent category.
The result was not positive.
Any such social interactions, i.e., the combination of society's "elements" or "substances," would lead, it seemed, to increased cruelty.
Inspired by the suitably grim aesthetic of France's Miss Kittin and Cleveland's Nine Inch Nails, Korotkov says he is driven to express these downward movements with "melodies that are unlike anything else." His inclination towards uniqueness is also towards pessimism.
...melodies that are unlike anything else
Bitscrapped's page at MySpace bears the slogan: "Distorted Design." It refers, initially, to the rough mismanagement of the MySpace template (Korotkov has made a deliberate mess of his page!); it could, however, refer equally well to matters of natural design.
It could be applied to worsening aspects of devloution and the kind of morose, moribund state suggested by his rare photographs. We see no more of Korotkov than these two faint silhouettes. His face is obscured by the surrounding murk.
This constant investigation and interaction of opposites - to worsening effect - has led Datenbits to say of one recent Bitscrapped publication: "Put simply, there's nothing simple in this music." In other words, the purported harmony of social or natural design - celebrated in happy clubs - is far from a compassionate network. Competition and struggle appear more predominant than calm, productive interaction.
Put simply, there's nothing simple in this music
In fact, the first two images in this post (used often as a logo by Korotkov) are a fine expression of natural order with something violently removed. Perfect corners have been lost in battle and bold, singular colors have been encroached upon by external, corrosive elements.
Korotkov himself, in speaking of his these tunes and graphic designs, has recently declared: "It's remarkable, even bewitching material, rich in both logic and emotion. It's all slightly veiled or hidden - and in places rather complex, too. These musical compositions are not designed for a single listening: they'll serve as excellent food for thought!"
The longer one ponders their subtext, however, the darker the message becomes.
The tracklisting for the newest release, known as "Toys," reads: "Broken Toy," "Hot Bone," Lust," Egoistic," "Electric Bathroom," "Funeral Disco," "Medusa," "Naive," "Goodnight," "Grayscale," and "Old Slut." The descent into nocturnal, mythical, or sexually brutal spheres is swift indeed. Selfishness and greed are to blame; social domains are shaped by a lack of social values.
Korotkov is inclined to tag his pessimistic work as electro-punk, synth pop, and/or trip-hop. Taken en masse, those styles are also a troubled synthesis of naive distraction, impending revolt, and drug-addled isolation. A sense of unease is great. And we need only look (above) at the artwork for this new album to get Korotkov's overall impression of the place in which his alter-ego finds himself.
There isn't a single pleasant face on display.
Given the apparent ubiquitousness of these "bass" social elements, "veiled" - as he says - by the glossy veneer of urban(e) establishments, it would seem feasible that anger might, eventually, find a more direct expression. Korotkov's pessimism and concern might find darker expression in a slightly ruder, rougher genre. Korotkov himsef is keen to underscore the surreal, disorienting nature of club life, but one wonders whether a subsequent, more ominous depiction of social failure might not be possible through, say, dubstep.
Born very much online amid British amateur forums or other low-level venues, dubstep slowly brought its thunderous bass frequencies to the national stage over a number of years, arguably hitting the UK mainstream in 2009.
The genesis of this cynical, threatening sound in the unlit corners of the internet would make dubstep a fitting genre for the Russian context, too, since Russians spend more time on social networks sites than any people in the world. Isolation and disenfranchisement lead to certain artistic forms.
Especially in bad weather.
In Great Britain, as a recent documentary pointed out, the menacing sound of dubstep took hold in profoundly physical ways. Its effect could be felt through irate basslines that thumped against listeners' chests and "made your ears feel warm." The heat was no sense of comfort, but a precursor of pain.
That same insistent bass, in fact, can be so overwhelming that some London clubbers have even likened the experience to being underwater, where all semblance of clear, trebly sound is lost. Clarity is lost to an oceanic impression of endless "elements" and "substances," to use Korotkov's terminology. Working on the dancefloor, these slow, resonant frequencies express great doubt about the same busy location.
"Mass" entertainment is both offered and subverted at the same time.
For all its popularity as a club style - born of hedonistic Jamaican sound systems - dubstep always bears this trace of threat. The growl of D&B sits deep with the dubstep tradition - the sound of a "distorted design." At present Russian dubstep enjoys a healthy, though wholly amateur following online. It has zero media coverage - and belongs most of all to people who have the least.
The tensions within this genre of dancefloor discontent - voluntarily sought by paying clubbers! - appear to be growing.
Were we to predict which musical styles might embody more overt forms of social protest in the near future, dubstep might be a logical starting point. It submerges people in disorienting sounds, akin to the vertiginous mix of pleasure and pain that fuels Gaspar Noe's "Enter the Void." The film's tagline? "Dying is the ultimate trip."
Dying is the ultimate trip
As an example of how trippy dubstep can harbor some social "contrariness," and still entertain(!), we offer a brand new RusZud release from Grndaz, entitled "Dub Panic." These two tracks take us very far from the soft, almost soporific waves of traditional dub. Peace has been replaced with impending panic.
If some of today's social disparities will indeed find expression on Russian dancefloors in the near future, it would seem that our anonymous DJ has discovered not only the appropriate genre, but also a couple of fitting logos.
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