---------- Forwarded message ----------
Date: Sun, 18 Jun 1995 16:25:29 +0300 (EET DST)
From: Erkki Rautio <trerra@uta.fi>
To: fluid@hyperreal.com
(from DJ No. 14, 8-21 June 1995)
DUBBLE TRUBBLE
by Andy Crysell
Dub! Is there any escape from it? Is there anywhere to hide?
Nope. Not really. At least not if dance and its myriad
associated genres are your thing.
In a sphere where even 15 minutes of fame is pushing it somewhat,
dub is the element that stands its ground; a magnificently potent
force that hangs in there and holds everything in place. Also, it's
the term that everyone loves to utter, one that it seems can be
twisted, slanted, folded and enhanced as easily as sound itself. So
first up, what the fuck is dub?
"Everyone outside of reggae is always going on about dub without
understanding it," reckons Russ from The Disciples reggae
production crew (new LP, 'Resonance', out now on Cloak & Dagger)
and the Boom Shaka Lacka sound system and label. "Dub's a
technique; a way of working in the studio; something that grew out
of roots reggae. People in techno, jungle, ambient and trip hop who
fiddle with sound ought to know that this scene has been doing it since
year dot - this hands-on style of making music where you free your
mind, start playing with the mixing desk and cause mayhem."
The most accepted history of dub goes something like this: it began
in Jamaica in the early 70s when the late King Tubby started to
rework vocal tunes he'd made, producing wild, expansive versions
bubbling with dazed and confused effects and the deepest, most wobbly
bass. As the decade went on, the torch was picked by other Jamaican
producers and musicians - Yabby U, Augustus Pablo, Joe Gibbs, the
notorious Lee Perry - and slowly but surely her ethos behind this
sound seeped through into other music; into rock, funk and disco,
then hip hop and electro, house and techno, ambient, trip hop,
electronic weird-core and jungle.
Kevin Martin, the man responsible for Virgin's excellent new 'Macro
Dub Infection' compilation, sees dub's history a little differently,
suggesting its spirit has always been there, inherent in the work of
experimental artists throughout time, and that the Jamaican roots
reggae period was simply the first instance it was fully recognised.
Dub, he says, is about "filtering sound, getting away from music that
evolves entirely around songs."
On 'Macro Dub Infection' this concept is explored in its broadest
sense, placing old school works from the likes of The Disciples and
Mad Professor next to the jazz-jungle of 4 Hero and Omni Trio, the
blunted techno of Bandulu, Wagon Christ's electro funk, Earthling
and Tricky's trip hop and a ton of strange ambient experimentation.
"Dub's central to all these musics," continues Kevin, who currently
has an album of his own out as Techno Animal (also on Virgin) recorded
with Justin Broadrick. "Ironically, the only people who seem obsessed
with keeping dub exclusive to Jamaican roots reggae tend to be middle
class white people - and a lot of them seem to write for music
magazines."
Ask Danny from Renegade Soundwave who he rates as the all-time
geniuses of dub and as well as namechecking Joe Gibbs he plumps for
Mantronix. "They don't get mentioned very often in the context of dub,"
he says. "But I remember sitting there with a spliff listening to their
first two albums, thinking, this is it. This is dub."
"King Tubby, Scientist, Lee Perry, Throbbing Gristle, Merz Bow (Japanese
abstract sonics supremo), Mad Professor, Kraftwerk, Bobby Konders, all
the 88 and 89 acid people, any music with its bollocks out, basically."
Ask Colin from the Zion Train collective the same question and the whole
world gets invited in. "Listen to a King Tubby bassline," he continues.
"Then listen to a 303 acid line - you'll find the feeling and motivation
is identical."
Zion Train (new LP, 'Homegrown Fantasy', out on China), started out as a
reggae sound system pushing the UK take on dub also championed by Jah
Shaka and Irration Steppas. Since then, however, they've gone further,
bringing house, techno and trance into the picture as well.
"It's about the physical effects of sound, same as with jungle or techno
or gabba," comments Colin. "Bass! Dub is a love of bass, that's what it is.
The closest house has come to the extreme low end of reggae bass was with
Unique 3 and that whole bleep techno thing. Now jungle's taking it down
another path."
Next to Adrian Sherwood's On-U Sound posse, RSW deserve credit for being
the first UK crew to push dub into the unknown; far beyond the scene from
whence it came. Their new LP, 'The Next Chapter Of Dub' (on Mute), sees
them getting up to their old tricks again - splicing everything from hip
hop and house to sordid tales of urban life around a healthy quota of
studio trickery.
"The way we use the word dub just means freedom of expression," Danny
explains. "We grew up in West London, which means we grew up with
reggae, so it seems natural to apply the mentality of that music to
other kinds of music. Growing up in London is a cosmopolitan, multi-
cultural experience. You add the reggae to everything else you've been
exposed to - hip hop and Arabic, Spanish and Indian music. You hear it
all around you - blasting out of cars, houses, shops - you soak it all
up and squeeze it out in different fashion."
And thanks to their lead, a vast wave of UK artists intent on taking
deviant production techniques to another level has emerged: The Orb,
Leftfield, Andrew Weatherall, Dreadzone, Rockers Hi-Fi, Digidub, the
list goes on and on...
"People have picked up on the different ways of working that we've been
showing them over the years," Danny says. "When we brought out the first
'In Dub' LP, we felt a bit lonely doing what we did. That's changed now -
as well as people like Leftfield and Weatherall who first got into dub
when it was linked with punk, it seems as if a new generation has grown
up in the last five years. A generation who've been raised on this
experimental outlook."
"It's interesting how people outside of reggae have picked up on some of
our tunes," adds The Disciples' Russ. "We've had techno DJs playing our
stuff at 45 instead of 33, which is totally alien to us but interesting
all the same." And the connections go further, he says. "We make our
music for the sound system scenario - it only makes complete sense when
you're blasting out 4000 watts of bass into people's faces, which is
exactly the same with jungle."
Consider the turntable skills displayed over the years by everyone from
Larry Levan to Walter Gibbons to Louie Vega, Richie Hawtin and Jeff Mills
and another link surfaces. The art of working the EQ live is something
reggae sound systems worldwide have been practising for decades, usually
recording unique one-off tracks specifically for their own dances.
"You don't just put a track on and sit back," says Kevin from The
Disciples. "You work it all the time - you sculpt and change the sound
constantly. For us, the sound system is almost an instrument." To such an
extent that when The Disciples play a dance, it's not just a heap of
dub/DAT plates that they bring in tow. Also on board are synths, drum
machines and a multitude of effects. All the things that house and
techno DJs are only just starting to consider using. "If we wanna get
the bass thumping, we just turn it up and test how far the speakers can
be pushed," he laughs. "Reggae fans have no time for you unless you're
willing to push it all the way."
As stated by RSW's Danny, dub has ingrained itself deeply into British
youth culture - anyone who's ever smoked a spliff has at least a
subconscious knowledge of this expressive, wide-open musical language.
"Sometimes it seems as if the only good thing about this country is the
way people are so experimental with their music," he says, adding that
no matter how downtrodden this nation finds itself, that is unlikely to
ever change. "I think it helps in a funny kind of way. Life in cities
like London, Manchester or Liverpool can be an intense struggle, but
that gives some depth and strength to the music."
"We're fuelled by mid-70s Jamaican music," says Zion Train, who also run
the Universal Egg label. "But, with the technology we've got and because
we live in the UK, we automatically take our influences in a direction
that suit our own surroundings and situations."
The Disciples: "A lot of people in roots reggae are holding back too
much - they don't seem interested in progressing or using new sounds. But
if King Tubby was alive today, he'd be doing the same as us - using
whatever technology he could get his hands on."
And it's in this zone, gripping the latest electronics, that dub finds
itself central to the zeitgeist - driving a planet full of people who
know frequencies, vocals, rhythms and silence are there to be fucked
with over and over again to play a game that truly has no rules. And
right now, it seems as if it's a game that will never end.
"I think people are sick of formats and segregation," says RSW's Danny
finally, when asked to explain why the numerous effects of dub are
particularly prevalent at present. "Slick, overproduced house has been
dominant for so long and that four to the floor seamless mixing
approach has got really, really boring. People now want to hear the
tempos and the styles mixing up and dub has got what they want - it's
universal, free-flowing and... well, it means something. It means
whatever you want it to mean."
---
ERkki
Tampere, pHinland
trerra@uta.fi