 |
|
Luke Eargoggle, "Audio Warriors"
Bunker
I grew up a military brat and spent seven of my most formative years inGermany. At the time, I was a total b-boy, listening to classic hip hopthat was on the charts, like Run DMC, Beastie Boys, and Kool Moe Dee. Ihated rock music and wanted nothing to do with it. At the same time, Iwas being introduced to new music through a number of friends andacquaintances. During this time I heard my first taste of Kraftwerk,and the industrial electronics of any West German metropolis. It waskeyboard tones, glitch beats, and the low rumbles of electronic voicesand bass tones. Back then, we didn't really care what there was todance to, as long as we could dance to it. We'd bug out and breakdanceand robot to anything with a beat, which always seemed to amuse theteachers and parents. Secretly, we wanted to know where this music wasmade, as it always felt like it was being made by machines with AI soadvanced they knew just what could make us boogie; and we chastisedAmerican artists who did anything that used similar sounds, from HaroldFaltermeyer to Herbie Hancock, labelling them "posers" like they werestreet punks who didn't know any better. How wrong we were when we werejust reaching adolescence, but how easy it is for a record to bring allthat rushing back. Luke Eargoggle, one of the new gods of robotelectro, displays a clever range of styles all with the same palette onAudio Warriors,and it's a cheeky listen that got me right back to 1983. Each songbounces with energy of a classic sound with updated technology. Fromthe start, you want to move to it, dancing around the room like youjust don't care. "I want to be free to do what I want," says Luke, andit's like an anthem for body-moving. Different rhythms, but all withthat hip-hop style and electronic production, frame each track, asswirls and bumps highlight the computerized vocals that sometimescontain real lyrics and sometimes just exclaim ("Yeah, yeah!"). There'sreally not much more than that to this, but the music begs for thatkind of minimalism. It truly feels like Eargoggle's overjoyed layingthis to tape or hard drive. That energy is catching, and it's been along time since I had this much fun.
I grew up a military brat and spent seven of my most formative years inGermany. At the time, I was a total b-boy, listening to classic hip hopthat was on the charts, like Run DMC, Beastie Boys, and Kool Moe Dee. Ihated rock music and wanted nothing to do with it. At the same time, Iwas being introduced to new music through a number of friends andacquaintances. During this time I heard my first taste of Kraftwerk,and the industrial electronics of any West German metropolis. It waskeyboard tones, glitch beats, and the low rumbles of electronic voicesand bass tones. Back then, we didn't really care what there was todance to, as long as we could dance to it. We'd bug out and breakdanceand robot to anything with a beat, which always seemed to amuse theteachers and parents. Secretly, we wanted to know where this music wasmade, as it always felt like it was being made by machines with AI soadvanced they knew just what could make us boogie; and we chastisedAmerican artists who did anything that used similar sounds, from HaroldFaltermeyer to Herbie Hancock, labelling them "posers" like they werestreet punks who didn't know any better. How wrong we were when we werejust reaching adolescence, but how easy it is for a record to bring allthat rushing back. Luke Eargoggle, one of the new gods of robotelectro, displays a clever range of styles all with the same palette onAudio Warriors,and it's a cheeky listen that got me right back to 1983. Each songbounces with energy of a classic sound with updated technology. Fromthe start, you want to move to it, dancing around the room like youjust don't care. "I want to be free to do what I want," says Luke, andit's like an anthem for body-moving. Different rhythms, but all withthat hip-hop style and electronic production, frame each track, asswirls and bumps highlight the computerized vocals that sometimescontain real lyrics and sometimes just exclaim ("Yeah, yeah!"). There'sreally not much more than that to this, but the music begs for thatkind of minimalism. It truly feels like Eargoggle's overjoyed layingthis to tape or hard drive. That energy is catching, and it's been along time since I had this much fun.
