the intensifier

the use of speed
Around 1988 the intensifier started going to illegal parties and raves. Mostly happening in the lost empty factories on the edges of wastelands, people danced on burnt-up cars, fucked suspensions moving in four-four time. The intensifier climbs over scaffolding. Metal drumming against metal and fires shifting edges. Parties could go anywhere. The intensifier loses it, then realises there is nothing to lose. Lucid confusion. In night-empty cities, a generation compose with speed, thinking/feeling; uncertainty, immensity, motion, forgetfulness, radiance, waste. Transformed by moving fast, taking it all in at high velocity. The intensifier dancing, hooded, grey, enwrapped in white smoke and light. The intensifier moves, uses speed. Each party was the end of an era. Something to take and use. Compose yourself. Move.

the art of deception
The intensifier has no identity, no ideology, has no cause or desire to persuade. Te intensifier senses the boundaries between things, like when sound is loaded into a computer to be recorded as a graphic design and manipulated, combined, played with touch. Mysterious and inaudible, no-one knows where it is going. Pretending to stand still and accommodate itself to the subliminal designs of corporate machines, the intensifier knows speed and deception secretly free it from imposed values.

the endless mix [

No Stars Here

No Stars Here (Track -1)
Celebrity creation is dependent on a number of elements: it is part of a practice in which cultural events are always interpreted by a conformity to the cult of the individual (or in the case of a group – individuals as a homogenous unit). Conduits of celebrity creation, the music journalists are like sycophantic courtesans; close enough to the mirrage of success they actively disseminate the servility that becomes a need. But throughout all this, in order to maintain its efficacy as a celebrity-machine, the sluice gates to stardom are kept ajar.

But there is always a hollowness, the sickly taste of false promise. The illusion is weakened and like the emperor’s new clothes, the product stands naked as hype dissipates and the celebrity’s fifteen minutes is fifteen months ago. To maintain its turnover the music industry requires this constant succession of heirs who are not only functionaries to profit and loss but also priests in a social-magic of control: every ‘star’ added to a jostling firmament shines with the pallid light of subservience, mapping out co-ordinates that inhibit stray movements.

Despite the factory-line of record sales, DJ fees and circulation numbers, techno is unstable and its cataclysms make it possible to detect plural voices where subjectivity is heightened to such a degree that it becomes the for itself in any moment whatsoever. Within these continuously mutating compositions there is this power to haze out the fixed points of the celebrity machine and with them the false ascendancy and tautological circuitry of industry.
Each record is a crowd. No stars here comes everybody.

No Stars Here (Track +1)
A digital underground is developed by re-mixing ideas that disrupt the psycho-social order demanded by linear time. The subjective experience of listening  enables the digital underground to devise times where linearity can be destroyed, so that the present no longer comes after the past or before the future. Techno conceives of times contained in the pleasures of dancing and listening to body music, yielding to an overflow of the senses, encouraged by the experiments with beats and frequencies.

The new celebrants experience time as broken, fractured, yet complete, finite and perfect. Heterogenous and discontinuous, yet perceiving time as stretched, looped, combined or reversed. Body music has always been the enemy of the continuous, homogenous, irreversible and infinite conception of linear time.

A digital underground constructs time as multi-dimensional waves of potential. There is movement anjd change in any direction from any point. Whilst mainstream promotors of linearity want their objective measurement of precise and equal instants of time to be the basis for control, regulation and hierarchy, techno is a current into freedom grasped in the moment.

here comes the all pervasive ghost mob…


Techno: Psycho-Social Tumult

nobody knows where you’re at…

We could begin anywhere. A history of techno would be too obvious and would imply that the creative phase was over. Any attempts at a genealogy, a hierarchical archeology, or a precise pinpointing of musicians prohibit an understanding of the simultaneity of multiple codes, the overlappings between styles and forms. Techno cannot be alloted a place as either pop or an avant-garde music – on the whole it doesn’t take refuge in art and slips awa from categorisation as the net of naming is unfurled. It avoids the discipline of nostalgia which keeps people in the thrall of the past, unable to even think of the future but always referring back. Nostalgia is a language of lack, a language that fills people with longings for a past that never happened, a present that never comes, for the gift that never arrives.


it is difficult for words to say that which is their purpose to deny…

Who knows what happens when we hear the sounds? Thoughts can race without being apprehended as thoughts and it is an indication of the tyranny of words that experience must pass through language to make it ‘real’. As we listen in the network of composition there is a challenge to invent new vocabularies to communicate what it is that occurs, to express explorations and to rewrite the multiple personalities of the music. As a challenge to language that is imbued with hierarchisations, techno conducts the fleeting awareness that, just as what is possible is limited by pre-conceptions, listening demands more ignorance than knowledge. For then we are mobile… stammer bass kick unfurling in blue analogue… tabula rasa.

[

DEAD BY DAWN – Explorations Inside The Night

Track *: Resisting the Present
For no apparent reason circulting mists of noise and body music rise up. This is a space-between, a squatted building re-used as a site of becoming. Neither here nor there but re-appearing at angles like groove notations in the run-off of a record. This is an interspace impervious to categories and explanations, not telecommunicatively cleansed with messages and signposts. Here, as track mixes into track miles away from the rave cathedrals, the building becomes an urban socialisation zone where dancers form collages of variable states of mind that connect into collective arrangements. Where there were limits and the gridlock of time and money now rootless packs accelerate into suspension as mouths move into silence. Sensation ripens into experience and experience engenders intensity. An all night party. Shrouded accounts. Inconclusive evidence. A group enunciation that refuses to speak for others and claim the last words when what is sensed can’t be explained. It’s like trying to re-construct a snowstorm.

Track ^ : Each Party is the End of an Era
An all-night party developed and over-inflated: These parties were never intended to be a stepping stone to a commercial venue, they were motivated by a desire to waste, to squander energy for its own sake alone. A collectively activated desiring-machine that was intent on inspiring itself. It was never about seeking abstract and disconnected audiences, instead Dead by Dawn acted as one more event-horizon drawing together malcontents…Making it happen – [Read more →]

Pages: Prev 1 2 3 Next