What makes a record special? Perhaps it's that ever elusive Something, which elevates seductively spiraling grooves- crudely carved into a slab of vinyl- from the realms of the mundane towards the legendary. Can there possibly be a way to truly measure and compare the fruits which dangle from the branches of Art's rotten tree, as if they were subject to some infallible laws of Science? This very question has troubled critics, as well as a whole class of high society cultural rapists, ever since we crawled far enough out of the primordial slime to stop worrying about impending death and start focusing on the wholly insignificant. The utterly inconsequential. The classic album.
Classic is a strong word, conjuring (to my mind, at least) images of Herakles' children seeking shelter in Athens, Phaedrus' garden parties and Cronos eating his own children. In short, something that has stood the test of time- in these cases thousands of years- yet which still remains relevant and capable of answering some of our questions about ourselves. I don't care what the NME might think, but in 2000 years no one on Earth (if an Earth there still be), will give a monkey's fuck about Vampire Weekend. Actually, my mistake, it turns out that this is already the case. Humiliated, I back track... in the span of the next two millennium, even the Beatles will be forgotten and entirely irrelevant. It is with the self important, and ultimately futile, arrogance of a doomed culture that we feel fit to tempt the hands of fate with premature deification of our meagre artistic excretions. Like Kool Keith, America's greatest philosopher, once said we're making “wrinkle cream out of rat poop”- artifacts so instantly disposable, that a supposedly “ageless” tune is old before it's even been recorded.
Cynical? Well, you would be too if you'd seen even half of the things that I haven't. But if you want a slice of meaningless hyperbole to go with your bullshit pate, I can think of no better place to find it than Boomkat Records, where superlatives are thrown around like infant Chinese girls from cliff tops. Every other record is branded as “killer” or “huge” or (the one that bothers me the most) “Essential”. I'm sorry, but if a record is actually essential to your ability to function as a sentient being, then it's time to give up- just leave your front door key at home, pick a direction and keep on walking. Vinyl addiction is a real problem for a lot of us, and this kind of one-sided reviewing can easily make otherwise sane people lose their financial continence. I, myself, write this from a room pebble-dashed with records- many from Boomkat. Some I still listen to, the rest make superb building up boards. Here's one thing that my bitter experience battling musical cholera has taught me- very, very, very few Dubstep records even come close to being useful, to say nothing of essential. If you think otherwise, you may just find me waiting for you outside of Hit & Run with a rusty claw hammer.
To my mind Boomkat's worst offences come when describing their own imprints, such as Modern Love. The site always deems fit to spew forth the grandest of compliments for the tracks it will profit most from selling. Praise is laid at the feet of artists such as Andy Stott, in a manner that hasn't been seen since Henry VIII's court of yes men tended to the last pussing syphilis lesion on the twisted shaft of his weeping cock. I understand that it's a business and they exist only to sell records, but language is such a beautiful gift it's a shame to misuse it so wantonly. Which, of course, makes me a terrible hypocrite. I can admit that, and I am big enough to admit that quite a few Modern Love records are actually pretty good. Further more, I'm starting to get a bit excited about the FutureEverything show coming up on May 14th at Sound control featuring ML's Demdike Stare and Boomkat DJ's as well as tunes from Finder's Keepers. The real draw, though, is Omar Souleyman playing with Mark Ernestus of Basic Channel (!) and Paul St. Hilaire- it should be quite a bit of fun. Just please don't let me hear you fucking describe it as “Epic”.
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