Kings Of Clubs
By Joe Kavanagh
While many music critics predicted that 2009 would see electronic music enjoy its best year since the late 90s, the evidence to this point has done little to substantiate such a case.
Of course, there have been some notable flourishes, such as The Prodigy's Invaders Must Die, while female artists have certainly kept up their side of the bargain with acts like Little Boots, Ladyhawke and Lady Ga Ga providing some of the most compelling technologically-driven highlights of the year so far, but the vast wave of electronica expected to sweep across the global music landscape has yet to fully materialize.
In fact, the recent explosion in what is almost annoyingly termed "nu-folk" (all it's missing is the feckin umlaut), appears to show that a large portion of music fans are headed in entirely the opposite direction to music inspired by computers, gadgetry and hectic beats.
Some put this lack of electronic punch down to the fact that the brightest names in the genre have yet to make their full debut in 2009 with acts like Dan Black and La Roux waiting in the wings for the curtain to go up on careers that are likely to be long and notable.
More proof that the jig is not totally up yet for the electronic assault on 2009 arrived recently with the release of an album by a trio of London-based club music veterans, whose music pedigree is both long and storied, giving us a collection of songs that straddle everything from the ghost of 80s past to the free-spiritedness of noughties future.
Tim Lawton (synths, lead vocals) and Olly Dixon (sampling, percussion, guitar) are not so much inspired by the London club circuit, as of it; men whose very existence has been lived inside the belly of the city's club scene, since they first met while working in a Camden bar a decade ago.
Initially, the duo pursued a career as a deejay double act, playing everything from warehouse raves and parties, to boat trips and clubs, eventually establishing themselves to the extent that they were invited to play gigs all over the globe and perform at virtually every major music festival in the UK.
They also set up their own monthly promotional night titled Kill 'Em All, which was initially held in Camden's Barfly venue, before ultimately moving to larger, more plush surroundings of London club, Fabric, where it still runs to this day.
The night sought to offer something different to the traditional club fare by mixing together a multitude of dance music forms with the very best that cutting-edge rock music had to offer.
As the night grew in popularity, so too did the profiles of those that came to perform with names like the Chemical Brothers, Justice and Simian Mobile Disco playing to packed houses, while on the rock music side, innovative acts such as Bloc Party and Crystal Castles were just some of the names to grace the stage, as the duo attempted to seek out acts that would mesh with their club-going crowd.
An appearance by one act would have dramatic, if unexpected, repercussions for the pair, when indie-rockers The Rakes played the venue and were so impressed with Lawton and Dixon that they asked the duo if they would remix their upcoming single.
Having never been involved in that end of the music business, the pair turned to long term friend and producer, Mark Ralph, and asked his assistance, and although they did not know it at the time, they had almost unwittingly formed a band.
Working under the name Filthy Dukes, they released their remix of The Rakes 22 Grand Job, in October of 2005, eliciting an overwhelmingly positive response from critics.
Nor was it only the critics they impressed, as The Rakes' label, Fiction Records, were sufficiently enthused by the collaboration to hand the trio a development deal, in order to see what brand of music they might make under their own steam.
Keeping the name, Filthy Dukes, they took their lead from acts as diverse as Pink Floyd and Roxy Music, to Soulwax and hip hop, but consciously attempted to avoid any preconceptions as to how they would eventually sound, essentially drawing motivation from every act that they had ever heard.
They did however have one particular muse that stood above all others, in the form of German producer, Conny Plank, the man who single-handedly invented Krautrock, and who is often credited as being the inspiration genres such as new wave, techno and electronica. (He also famously turned down the chance to produce U2's Joshua Tree, after Brian Eno introduced him to the band, allegedly dismissing them with the phrase: "I cannot work with this singer!")
They also sought to capitalize on their experience with live acts. Throughout their years of hosting Fabric, they always sat in for each act's sound check, in an effort to better meld their deejay sets with the band's sound, while also attempting to distinguish the elements of their music that worked best, often dissecting songs to their smallest constituent parts.
They now endeavored to inject all of this knowledge into their own music and spent the next several months honing their ideas.
In November of 2007, they made their official original debut, with the limited edition release of This Rhythm, an electronic floor-filler that so impressed Fiction that the band was handed a full recording contract only two months later.
Over the intervening eighteen months, the trio spent their time honing their craft, and working on their own tunes, while their remixing career also blossomed, as the names on their rolodex became ever more famous.
From humble beginnings working with some of London's underground indie acts, their services have recently been called upon by the Maccabees, Bloc Party and Lil' Wayne.
They also worked with Girls Aloud singer, Sarah Harding on a track for the movie Real Wild Child, which proved so successful that many postulated that Harding would leave the band to pursue a career under their tutelage.
Another single appeared in the form of the edgy, tongue-in-cheek, big beat effort, Tupac Robot Club Rock, a hip hop stomper that continues to make ripples around the globe almost six months after its initial release.
In fact, it is the strength of the band's own songs has been somewhat of a revelation, especially given their roots as a remixing outfit, and as last summer drew to a close they retreated to the studio to complete work on their debut album.
Seeking to channel the spirit of their idol, they even managed to find one of only two custom-made mixing desks created by Conny Plank (the other sits in a German museum), which they restored to fully working order and used to record their album. Along with the desk, they also attempted to use as many vintage synths and instruments as possible, in order to give their music a dirty edge, which can often be sadly lacking in many modern electronic albums.
The fruits of their labors appeared a day before St Patrick's Day, when Nonsense In The Dark, hit shelves to largely positive reviews.
Infused with a sense of humor and fun, the album is starkly diverse for the electronic genre, packed with enough texture and ideas to offer something new and compelling with every listen.
Calling on a host of guest vocalists, such as Orlando Weeks (Maccabees), Brandon Curtis (Secret Machines) Sam Dust (Late Of The Pier) and Philly rappers, Plastic Little, the album bristles with a sense of excitement and the type of shimmering cheerfulness that should see it gain momentum all the way to the end of the summer, and make the band a fixture on the all important summer festival circuit.
While one record doesn't quite make the Filthy Dukes rock royalty just yet, an album as fine as this certainly stakes them a significant claim to 2009's electronic throne.
|