In the recesses of the blogosphere, where filthy kids reside happily headphoned and alone, seeing the same names over and over in blogs of the same type is usually a sign that something is about to turn the corner. As we approach the butt end of the Noughties, a candy-colored hydra has been spotted crawling from underneath the crates of forgotten Fischerspooner records, doing the day-glo tango to Garageband bleeps and analog synths. One of the tags it responds to, according to those filthy kids, is indie electro.
An offshoot of late ‘90s French house (see: Cassius, Modjo, and the granddaddy of them all, Daft Punk) and a successor to the electroclash scene from 2001 to 2003, this newborn electronic orchestra is currently melting dance floors (and computers) from Helsinki to Hagonoy. If those online music nerds are right, then Shoreditch is, I suppose, the new Tokyo (which used to be the new Berlin) and indie electro is — at least for this second — still the new indie.
Shock Me Like An Electric Eel
Among the artists staffing this movement, it’s obvious that only a few can be called its pioneers. Gaspard Augé and Xavier de Rosnay, a.k.a. Justice, are clearly on the crest of this nouveau disco soundwave. After creating beautifully deranged noise in 2003 on their now classic remix of Simian’s “Never Be Alone,” the French duo remains — oh, hell yes — on full blast.
Since then, the reception of their work has been nothing short of rapturous. They have spread their crazy-quilt dance-pop hybridism through mixes for mainstream artists — including Britney Spears and Franz Ferdinand — and have been championed by fellow indie electro greats such as Erol Alkan. (Recently, they even cobbled together a capsule collection for French fashion label Surface to Air.) If their kiddy-chorused house-pop gem, D.A.N.C.E, released in 2007, didn’t make you smile, you’re either dead or missing the point.
Of course, there are other acts that have been sexing up the subculture from outside France. Toronto, Canada has two cult groups waving its flag. On the one hand, there’s MSTRKRFT, who has banged more life into songs by Goose, Chromeo, The Kills, Fergie and Jesse McCartney (listen to how they tore down Leavin’ and turned it into an unrecognizable Wayfarer weeknight jam). On the other, there’s the boy-girl twosome, Crystal Castles. With unintelligible lyrics and a helter-skelter approach to music-making — described as “large chunks of shiny vomit” — they have colonized many a dance floor since erupting in 2006. (Performing Alice Practice on Skins earlier this year gave the UK TV series exuberance in an even brighter shade of neon.)
Rounding out the wonderful ruckus are Germany’s Digitalism (tip: their remix of Tom Vek’s Nothing But The Green Lights and their own Pogo) and Brooklyn’s MGMT (tip: Oracular Spectacular, all of it), who can make your ears do somersaults with their tie-dyed vibes.
Suck My Deck
Along with the distorted bangers and gnarly basslines, another school of DJ/producers/remix artistes is likewise on the rise. Again, there’s a dude from France, SebastiAn, not to be confused with Sébastien Tellier who is signed with Record Makers (also home to Kavinsky). The German MMMathias, signed to Ohne Vertrag, is also bringing down the house with bouncy, wonky re-edits of Santogold’s My Superman, MGMT’s The Youth and tears-in-your-eyes fave, Sigur Ros’ Saeglopur.
Already-discovered goods — but too good not to mention in this primer — are Van She from Australia (tip: their remix of Martina Topley-Bird’s Poison gets booming crazy around 3:25) and Triobelisk from Washington, D.C. (tip: Yelle’s Ce Jeu).
The yolk of this golden egg is, by all accounts, still Ed Banger Records, the powerhouse label owned by Pedro Winter. Not to be mixed up with Thomas Bangalter, one half of Daft Punk, the Banger electro empire counts Justice, Uffie, and SebastiAn in its enviable roster.
Do the d.a.n.c.e. 1,2,3,4,5
Don’t look now, but it seems tribes of Parisian teenagers have been seen swerving maniacally to a dance craze called Tecktonik. Sporting mullets and Sergio Tacchini-inspired warm-up jackets, these heavily accessorized youth convene to engage in public danceoffs, their skinny-jeaned licorice legs flailing all over the Trocadéro. As they duke it out on the streets, these French-electro mimes invoke an epileptic New Kids on the Block, taking Tecktonik from its bored suburban roots straight to the arms of the raveified world. There’s no stronger proof that the gospel of indie electro is spreading and mutating in ways that are unique to our times.
Some naysayers, however, are already pronouncing indie electro’s robo voice autotune sci-fi effects “samey” and “two years ago.” Its flooding popularity is what is killing its once-underground appeal. It’s rather party-pooper-ish that they’ve started to wax lyrical about a post-Banger world, where the new strains of two-step, crunk and old school rave are melded with dubstep and electro. (Brooklyn’s Drop The Lime, a.k.a Luca Venezia, is an example of this sub-subgenre. His remix of Robyn’s Who’s That Girl does sound fresher with its warbling, grimey bassline.)
Whether this is an indication that indie electro is indeed past its prime or just starting to jam it up at top volume is anyone’s guess. But what I’m sure of is this: When the dust has settled on our little disco party and another movement has come to overturn the overdone, we’ll all win anyway. Fresh tuneage means evolution, which is always a good thing.