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From:
Simon Chambers
To:
Date:
Wed, 20 Sep 95 10:00:16 EST
Subject:
Derrick May Interview (long)
Msg-Id:
<199509200805.BAA20892@taz.hyperreal.com>
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idm.9509.gz
sorry if some of you have seen this before, but i really thought everybody would benefit from reading this. mayday's raison d'etre| DERRICK MAY, TIME TRAVELLER (reprinted from Code 3 95) Techno. What is techno? Before the developments of technology completely banish chronology and authorship, while we still can, let us get to the source, or at least some semblance of a source. Sometime in the 1980s, somewhere in Detroit, three teenagers called Juan Atkins (19), Derrick May (18) and Kevin Saunderson (17) fuse their electronica, release some tracks, call this strange breed 'Techno' and change the face of modern music. Techno. What is techno? Derrick May is Rhythm is Rhythm is Mayday is Transmat. Know the stark, glacial beauty of Strings of Life, feel the polyrhythmic intensity of The Beginning, touch the agressive melancholica of Emanon, sense the imminent collapse and the coexistence of the fragile and the ferocious that characterises all of his work, understand Derrick May. 24.11.94 Derrick May arrives in Dublin, alone. The big hotels are smart boomed with copies of the magazine and Code is put on ultra-violet alert, poised. He requested the promoters (Silk) that no-one pick him up at the airport and there is a dead and alive time and space as we wait for this enigmatic innovator to make contact. He is an unknown quantity; his recordings are in the Detroit Museum of Modern Art; he is known for his dislike of the media and for five years has refused to give an interview. We wait, no response. Code is lost in the silver box.. he calls; he's up for it. 25.11.94 11:30 pm Tallaghtand contrary to what our most benovolent and responsible media would have us believe, there are no guns, no syrings, no violence, no stereotypes - just good times. I am in the Basketball Arena with 2000 mad bastards, Derrick May transports us into the past, present and future and I feel... alone, isolated. Afterwards as we nite drive back to Babylon Centre the photographer, Sharpe, is uncharacteristically subdued; it is only the next morning that he confesses that despite explicit instructions to shoot his camera 2 fuck, somewhere in the middle of May's set he stopped snapping and just listened, frozen as in architecture. 26.11.94 1:00 pm some hotel and Derrick Mayemerges from an elevator. He is cut like a ninja, disoriently looks exactly like his photographs (taken eight years ago) and is possessed of an extreme, visceral and intellectual energy that never, not once lets up. 1992 Transmat ms-18 Kenny Larkin releases War of the Worlds under the guise of Dark Comdey. And then... nothing. Instead of capitalising on the legendary status of Transmat, May decided to concentrate on rebuilding the philosophy. "I decided to cool it out and not to fuck it up. There have been no bad releases on Transmat. And we don't plan any." "Unfortunately, there is no integrity in dance music: the record companies have no respect for you. They are only interested in money; they only want you for the moment, the one-off hit. They have no patience." "It is a dangerous business making dance music. You have got to know when to pull, and you have got to know when to row. You have got to know how to use your brain, not just how to stick it out your hand for money." In addition to the rampant and blind commercialism of the record industry, May reiterates the inherent problem of racism that permeates the life of practically every black artist. Invoking a plethora of examples, May is graphically acute in his comments and cites most specifivally the experiences of Juan Atkins back in the Cybertronic day. "At the time Juan was making records (as Cybertron), record companies were not interested; and the few times that they did show some interest, then it wasn't in respect to a black artist. They would not take seriously a black man making electronic music." "Record companies knew about Juan. They knew what he was doing; they had every fucking clue in the world about what he was doing. They knew. They knew that he was making the strongest, most experimental, elctronic music available. They knew that kids were completely crazy for it, from LA to Florida to Michigan to Cleveland to Denver to Texas to Kansas City. But they were not interested. It is an unfortunate state of affairs but record companies need white artists to make this music for it to have any semblance of credibility." "The psychological difference is that in most situations, an 'entertainer' is black, and an 'artist' is white. And that is not a racist opinion, because I am not a racist. I am simply aware." "The reason that I never signed up to a major record company was that I felt that I needed control. I refused to be enticed into becoming a slave to their ignorance of what I was trying to do with my music." "And I am glad that I didn't sign to a major. I called my own shots; I created my own solutions, I dealt with my own consequences, paid my own prices. And in the long run I controlled my own destiny." The legacy of Transmat as an electric entourage with a collective concept is apparent. One need only look at the saggering beauty of Kenny Larkin's metaphors, the massive phuture phunk of Stacey Pullen and the imminent dominance of golden child Carl Craig: all of whom released tracks under Transmat. It is that inflection of experimentation, that spirit of innovation, of thinking as hard and as deep as the music itself, that informs all their works, and is at the heart of Transmat, and of May himself. "It was never just about the idea of making records. For us (May, Saunderson, Atkins) it was more a spiritual thing.. a serious connection with the intellect. That was always the point, right back from the early days of Kraftwerk and of George Clinton and Funkadelic. For us, this stuff was heavy. It wasn't just good music.. it was really.. an inspiration, not just physically, but mentally." "And that is the reason why all these people are still fascinated. Because they still have not been able to figure out what the fuck we did and how the fuck we did it. We were no better nor worse than anybody else with the ability to make music, we simply had a purpose." "The real philosophy was the intellect... the soul searching. Which unfortunately most people don't have." Thus, May tired of "all of the false hopes and bullshit promises" took transmat out of the limelight and deep down back into the undergroud clubscape and returned to what he knew best: dj-ing. "Music was a philosphy that I learnt from being a dj; that is where my spiritual connection with music lies. So, I returned there to search.. and dwell." A true master never stops learning, and it seems that for the last four years May has been pursuing a self oddessy of learning, of feeling, of understanding the dance. And its beyond. During this time he lived in many cities and as he reflects on London, Paris and Amsterdam - their essences, their sounds and character, Detroit is inevitably considered. "What is Detroit like? A good question. Detroit is like a city trying to relearn how to live. It's been through so much... there are many angry people in Detroit. Some of the richest people in America live just outside of Detroit. But inside Detroit: emptiness... and you have people who reflect that nothing... but there is a characterand a spirit, a lot of imagination, a magnetism." "But now I don't need to be in Detroit to make music... I am who I am and I can make my music anywhere in the world. It is probably the last time I will go back there and work on my music. I have lost my passion to live there. My philosophies have changed, my ideas have changed." And what are these new philosophies ? "I cannot explain them, I can only live them. But I want to, I have to project my philosophy in my music. I was a different person then. I am a different person now. Bit I am still very emotional. Going into the studio will be a new experience. I don't know what and I don't know how." May is less concerned with the sheer scale of the influence that the Belville Three have (however unwillingly) exerted than with the '99 per cent of generic bullshit' that masquerades under the banner of techno. "Everyone is trying to discover analogue. In other words, most people have no clue, again, about what it took to make this music. They run out and buy all these old keyboards modified for the nineties so they can catch up with what they think they don't know... they are obviously trying to recapture something rather than create something new. And that very attitude (of attempting to recreate the past) demonstrates a complete misunderstanding of what it is about, of what we are trying to do." May is well aware of the dillemmas that, as one of the most influential components in the chronology of techno, he faces as he returns to the studio. It's 1995, mid-decade and the soundscapes that Mayday created are still being mapped out, traveresed, (re)discovered, ten years after his original innovations. "When I make music again it's going to be funny because people have used every sound, every arrangement, every composition and every idea that I had to make music with. So as far as I am concerned, if I make a record that sounds like myself, it's likely that those who don't know me are going to think that I sound like everyone else. So I have to create something new, and yet it will be similar purely by vitue that I have made it." But, as his own worst critic, and with the talent and an attitude that only comes from a certain type of self-belief he is ready. Casually, and yet ominously he adds: "I'm not looking for it be different; just a sign of the times. It is a good time to make music." It is his desire to continue to envolve the ever closer fusion of manmachine, to invoke the techno-logical as a means to fuse the body and the mind, the mental and the physical, and the transcend both in the expression of the soul. It is thus unsuprising that he finds a strong affinity to the digital brotherhood that is Jungle. "Understand this: we did not invent techno - that is media invention. We... enhanced it for the new milleninium. Techno is the genetic offspring of techno-pop (Klaus Shultz, Eurythmics, New Order etc). Rave, hardcore... these were mutations, diversions. But now we have a new birth. And that birth is jungle. Back to club music. Back to the dance. The dance." One need look no further than the afronautics of such luminaries as A Guy Called Gerald to witness a similar polyrhythmic quest, of invoking impossible times - prehistory and the future - indeed of manipulating time and space itself in an attempt to discover truths and essences. And techno. What is technno? "Techno is an original fusion of electronic music with the urban soulness of black dance music, of black people... that was our original philosphy." "It is a sort of new breed mentality of dance music. It is a sort of a new breed mentality of technology." "What it is not? It is not a soulless music; it is not a genre of drug music. Unlike many things, it is one of the ultimate areas of creativity at this time. But it is unfortunate that many of us have decided to... ignore creativity, and simply just use machines as a convenient way of making music. Like the video game, we have let the computer assist us so much that we don't even use our imaginations. These is limitless potential in electronic music. Unfortunately most of us have taken the time or even thought about taking the time to explore this potential." And U+Techno = ? "Me plus techno? Me plus techno equals nothing! I am just a component in the machine that drives the wheels of progress." May does not consider his status as a modern icon to be of importance. What is essential to him is the absolute neccesity in the constant elevation of music, that he continues in his pursuit of the future, that he innovate, that he move on, forever changing, chaging forever. "That is what we are missing. We are not in the path of progress. It is essential that we return to that path. And if we do not? ... that elevator where George Clinton and Kraftwerk are? The doors will open and I will walk out and in will walking nothing and we live in the halls of redundance." "Everything I do must stand the test of time." And it will. For ever and a day. a sideprint: "Sometimes I think about my grandfather, my mother, my childhood or my idols. Strings (of Life) was about Martin Luther King. When they killed him they destroyed the hopes and dreams of a generation. It was about the hope in his message." End of Message