Black Sabbath

One of our collaborators Marek Steven is a lifer rocker and guitarist in bands including Invasion and his new heavy metal act Amulet. Knowing that Marek – like all metallers – is a massive fan of Sabbath, ’SUP arranged for a chat to take place with the mighty Bill Ward – drummer for Sabbath – to find out where it all began and maybe where it’s headed. (More …)


’SUP 21

Posted on Dec 07, 2009

Air

With over 14 years of work behind them, five full-length albums, a handful of EPs under their belts and almost too much score material to keep track of, Air is a band with seemingly boundless credibility. Members Nicolas Godin and J.B. Dunckel don’t seem to care too much about their cultural and musical weight – they’re in the biz for their personal passion first and foremost. (More …)

Posted on Dec 02, 2009 in Air, Kava Gorna, Nik Mercer

Washed Out

Maybe it’s because I’m technically from the South that I always naturally gravitate towards things that are Southern. From biscuits and gravy to crunk, I’m always game. Nice, soothing, minimal, melodic electro–and from the South? Bring that on. (More …)


Retro/Grade

British-born-and-bred Serge Santiago and Tom Neville make up the dance duo Retro/Grade, that has taken the dance world by pleasant surprise this year. They’ve released two stand-out 12-inches, both of which have received plenty of air time on the dancefloor and great reviews. (More …)


John Roberts

Europe’s dance scene takes a deep breath. Minimal techno—with its endless, cold baselines and teasing repetitive structure—is getting banned from most of the clubs. Traditional house music is back again. But the transition between minimal and house is going too fast. Saxophone solos, bongo extravaganzas and hysteric vocals are exaggerating the need for deepness. Fortunately, there are producers who don’t fall for the overdose and are able to manage the fragile architecture of groove-orientated, soulful dance music. John Roberts is one of them. He’s a tall, skinny dark-haired guy with eyes so clear and sparkling that it almost seems as if they are glowing. His 12-inches for the Berlin- and Hamburg-based Dial label brought mystery and elegance back into deep house. His live-sets in leading dance-venues like the Panorama Bar in Berlin are highly acclaimed by prominent DJs, producers, journalists and of course those who are exchanging words for body language in clubs all over the world. We met John Roberts between sound checking and his live performance at the Club Trouw in Amsterdam. In an apartment formally owned by two heroin addicts, in the western part of the city, John sits on a couch, smoking a cigarette and checking his beer can for content. In the background the song “They’re Coming to Take Me Away, Ha-Haaa!” by Napoleon XIV is playing.

It’s recording. You can start your monologue.

(Laughing) Is this the Beatles? Which album is this? The White Album (Apple, 1968)? I found this copy of The White Album that belonged to my dad and inside the record sleeve there was a letter that he had written to his first girlfriend. He was the same age in the letter as I was when I found it. It was so weird. It totally sounded like I wrote it. He made the same shitty jokes and he had the same bad tactics with women.

Who is John Roberts? You can start where you were born.

You really want to know?

You are 26.

Twenty five, I just turned 25. Eight months ago.

Did you have any outlooks on your future?

You mean when I was young? It depends on when you’d ask me.

Did your parents have any expectations of you?

They wanted me to have a good job. That’s all they cared about. For a long time I wanted to be a graphic designer. They were really pushing for that. I started for two years and then I changed to art school: The School of the Art Institute of Chicago.

Did you produce any music at that time?

Yeah, I was messing around with it.

Only people who don’t take it seriously say that they were just ‘messing around.’

I wasn’t taking it seriously back then.

[John gets a little toy keyboard with animal sounds. He’s pushing buttons and speeds up the tempo. Someone in the room says ‘ghetto house.’]

What was your first contact with house music?

I grew up in Cleveland. When I was fifteen I started going to this record store called Grand Pubas.

Was it owned by the Detroit Grand Pubahs?

No, it was owned by a guy called Doug. And they were never really friendly to me. But I would buy these mix tapes from these guys from Chicago. Like DJ Milton, DJ Funk and DJ Deeon. They played this super stripped- down house music with just an 808 bass and them speaking and rapping over the beats.

Did you go to parties where they played that stuff?

I really wanted to. But they would only play that kind of music in Chicago, in the projects. So, basically I never got the opportunity to go there.

You didn’t dare.

No. But then I moved to Chicago and went to some clubs where they would play it. But they mixed it with old classic Chicago house and deep house.

You know, art students in Holland like to play ghetto stuff at parties. They are drunk, and they’re always so ironic about it.

But I think that’s as good as it can get in a way. That’s how they show their appreciation for it. They obviously could never have the authentic experience. For a skinny white guy it’s the closest you can get to showing your appreciation for something like ghetto house.

It seems to me, that you show the same reservation in your productions. You would never try to put a ghetto touch on your tracks or get vulgar.

It’s not so much about getting vulgar in the sense of using a rude vocal, but being vulgar by overstepping my bounds. I know there are a lot of deep house artists nowadays who put vocals over their tracks. Like someone preaching. But I think that’s totally inappropriate.

Why?

Because it has nothing to do with your upbringing. You’ve probably never been to a Baptist church. I mean, you can do it and have a good outcome. But I think that’s a really inauthentic experience that you are creating. So I’d rather take a vocal which relates to something I’ve experienced myself.

One of the tracks you played at the sound check had some sort of hidden vocal. Are you afraid of using vocals in a too obvious way?

Maybe. I’ve always felt that with vocals. Sometimes I put them more in the front, but I kind of like them hidden in the back. Most of the time I chop or strip them down because I want to use them like a percussive element.

Your tracks don’t have those explicit vocals, but the beats are pounding like ghetto house. They really hit you in the face.

My beats are still influenced by Dance Mania records. That’s still what I’m buying.

When I heard your tracks for the first time, the groove appeared to me as a galloping horse. And sometimes I heard an element which sounded like a whip, reining for control.

(Laughing) When I started making music, a friend of mine said it sounded like a galloping horse, but like a horse with a broken leg. A broken horse. I like to have that one lagging element in there. But I haven’t thought about it much lately. I still want to keep some experimental elements in my music, but my goal has never been to alienate people. I never wanted to make experimental music for example. I’m not trying to be like, ‘Oh, I’m so underground and I’m making underground dance music that no one can understand.’ I think working on my album has helped me to find a happy balance.

Besides taking part in club culture, you also have an interest in art. You work in a gallery and you are planning to make some artwork yourself. Do you need that balance?

I think it’s good to have a change of scenery now and then. If I was only involved in club culture, I would be really depressed all the time (laughs). It really wears you down. I need other stimulation and inspiration. Nightlife can be very draining.

How does your interest in art reflect in your music?

I don’t know if it’s clear for anyone else, but when I’m making music I always think about these images I’m collecting. I’m not sure though if these images are getting translated into my music or not. But in the dance music community, I think the artwork of a 12-inch is not important to most people who are buying records anyway.

But your label, Dial, pays much attention to that aspect.

Yeah, but Dial is one of the few labels where people are actually commenting on the artwork, which I think is great.

I’ve seen some of the images you referred to, like the picture of a can of caviar.

A-ha. The Rolls-Royce.

Yeah.

A gate in front of a big mansion.

Right. But also a black balloon, which didn’t make any sense to me at all. Balloons need to be colorful and represent joy.

I’m relating those images to my music. The images are representing something that I want to express. For example, the balloon. It has some kind of elegance and melancholy to it. But it’s also reserved, in a way. That’s how my music should sound.

Can you tell me something about your art?

No, not really.

You don’t want to tell?

I don’t want to talk about it.

Why not? Are you ashamed of it?

I’m not ashamed of it. It’s just that I don’t feel confident about something that is not developed.

But you could talk about development.

(Silence)

Why did you want to create art in the first place?

Because I think that it’s a really nice outlet, besides making music.

Is it photography?

Yeah.

But you don’t want to talk about your art because it’s not developed yet?

Yeah.

So you don’t actually know what to talk about?

I don’t want to. (Pauses) Yeah.

(Laughing) Now you are just saying ‘Yeah’.

(Laughing) I don’t think it’s relevant!

If it’s finished, are you going to show it?

I don’t know. I’m more interested in making a publication, like a book. But I wouldn’t want to do it if it would be something totally separate. I like the idea of my music and my visual art strengthening each other. Making artwork for my records, for example. Both the art and the music are representing the same ideas.

What kind of ideas?

Depression, reservation. But wrapped in some sort of elegance.

I guess. You’re leaving one element out. Your tracks have this erotic element. But it’s hidden, like a secret. The listener can find out about it, but is not allowed to share it.

I think that is pretty self-reflective. (Laughing) I just have a slightly reserved personality.

Is that an act?

No, it’s really me! I always end up being friends with people who have a more outgoing personalities, because it helps me to be more outgoing. If I was friends with people like myself, we would spend a lot of time in silence (laughing). Watching television.

Do you think about the perception of the audience when you are preparing a live set?

I’m forced to. Because when I’m getting booked to play shows I have to play a club set. I cannot go up there and play a slow, galloping 118 bpm experimental set. I mean yeah, it’s going to be you and four other people who will like it. But 500 other people will get alienated. The music I made for the album is individual enough and able to stand on its own. And I know that if it falls into a trend, at least I wasn’t thinking about that when I made it. You can still get your point across but still find a way to be inclusive. I think at this point that’s kind of important to me. I wanted to make the album not only for the people who are buying the 12-inches, but also for the people who are not part of the dance music community.

Are there any beatless tracks on your album?

There was this one track I just couldn’t find the right beat for. And I listened to it in the context of the complete album, but without a beat it just sounded like a total drop off. It took away all the congruity. Because in the end I want to make dance music. I don’t want to take that away.

Do you need the structure of dance music?

I want to have the structure of dance music, because that’s where I am coming from. If I wanted to make something purely melodic, I would end up with a depressing folk album. But that’s not where I’m coming from.

To me it sounds you are using the structure of dance music to take away responsibility. The beat is always there. You didn’t invent it and it won’t go away.

You think I’m using the beat as a defense mechanism?

Yes.

I don’t know, maybe partially. But at the same time, this is the type of music that is important to me. I don’t have any desire to stray from that.

So let’s talk about your art again.

Can I use the bathroom?


Miike Snow

The cool thing about working for a tri-annual magazine is that when you have the luxury of time, you can really live with a band or album for a while and let their music and ideas seep in and marinate before writing about them. When I was first confronted with Miike Snow I was at a point where new bands weren’t really doing it for me—my mind was either deep in some 1970s disco throwback wormhole or listening to the synthesized barrage of whatever Britney Spears had just released. I tend to have a bad habit of prematurely shelving records, and Miike Snow’s self-titled debut album (Downtown, 2009) waited patiently on my desk until a friend randomly IM’d me a link to their Myspace page one day this past summer. “Dude, did you know the guys from Bloodshy & Avant started a band?” Hold up. Any 21st century pop music aficionado completely reveres the Swedish production duo of Bloodshy & Avant (a.k.a. Christian Karlsson and Pontus Winnberg), as they’ve written or produced tracks for the likes of Kylie Minogue, Madonna, Britney Spears and many others. As a journalist and somewhat accredited music theorist, it’s in my opinion that modern pop music is pushing cultural boundaries further than any other genre at this point in history, and Christian and Pontus are at the forefront of that movement. I excitedly popped Miike Snow into my CD player. What I expected was bubbly-yet-heady synth-pop in the vein of Bloodshy & Avant’s production work. Needless to say at this point, I didn’t get what I expected.

But what I did get was one of the best independent pop albums I’ve heard in a long time. The songs aren’t packaged as perfect little pop packets, but are layered and textured into true experiences that yield something new with each listen. The album opener, “Animal”, is the most immediately catchy song on the album, with its bouncing synth jabs and sing-along chorus, but all that head-bopping almost distracts from the fact that you’re singing about someone’s deep social alienation. “Song for No One” sounds like something that should have come out in the late-‘90s and have a video showing the band driving down a highway in a convertible. You could play this album in a dive bar or in Ibiza and the reaction would be the same.

To form Miike Snow, Christian and Pontus teamed up with New York-based singer and multi-instrumentalist Andrew Wyatt, who writes the band’s lyrics and serves as their frontman. Having been in various musical projects his whole life (the A.M. probably being the most well-known) Andrew was the missing link between a great production team and a great band. I’ve seen Miike Snow play twice now, both times at NYC’s Lower East Side venue Mercury Lounge. The second time, when the band took the stage wearing white kabuki-like masks (they always wear some sort of mask while in public), the place erupted, and by the time they launched into “Sylvia” mid-set, a cautionary tale about a lost love, they held the audience in the palm of their hand.

I caught up with Andrew, Pontus and Christian the day after their first Mercury show and chatted about their beginnings in Sweden, their production techniques (or lack thereof), and their choice use their anonymity to “put their music first.”

You guys were all very musical before you met, and of course Christian and Pontus are in Bloodshy & Avant. How did you decide to collaborate on Miike Snow as a project?

Andrew: We have a mutual friend in the music industry who thought we should meet, and that we would hit it off, either to write songs or just to hang out or something, which ended up being the case. I was in the UK at the time, I had never been to Sweden, so I went over there and I met up with Christian and Pontus, but we didn’t really do anything the first time we hung out. We kept in touch, and ended up doing some writing for someone else that didn’t end up anywhere. But the relationship got started up, and we enjoyed each other’s company. They contacted me when they heard my other band, and talked about forming a new band with the three of us.

What was the first song you collaborated on?

Christian: I think the first song was “Black and Blue”.

Pontus: I think we did “Black and Blue” and “Song for No One” the first time.

Andrew: Yeah, those were the ones from the very first time I went over there to write and work on the album. Those are the two from that first trip that actually made it on the album.

It’s funny you say that because those are the most sort of “rock-pop” songs on the album, in my opinion. I normally abhor this question, but what inspired the music you make as Miike Snow? I’m a huge fan of Bloodshy & Avant and when I first heard the record I must admit it’s not exactly what I expected.

Pontus: I think that the whole process has been pretty organic and contained. It’s more or less like, ‘Now we can we can say how it ended up.’ It’s not thought out. It just happened.

Andrew: I think that more than any sort of musical influence that we had, it’s just that what ended up happening on the record was aspects of everyone’s personalities coming out. I just feel like we don’t have a problem with lots of different traditions of music. One of the things about the music that I know about that they’ve done in the past that I was so excited about is that it’s very irreverent to tradition. It’s kind of like there’s something very punk rock about it—or at least something very subversive—that’s pretty courageous. I think that that carried over to the process of making Miike Snow in that we didn’t have any mold for what it was going to be. We just did it. We thought more about the elements at the time. I don’t think we were trying to be one kind of a band or another. We just did whatever happened.

Christian: There are two or three songs that aren’t on the record, but we’re definitely going to use them. I think one of them is going to be like a B-side in Europe or something. Like we said, maybe the first songs sound a little bit different, but it’s kind of cool that we kept everything from the start.

You can really see the progression of the whole collaboration.

Christian: Uh huh.

Christian and Pontus, do you work differently when you produce for yourselves as opposed to producing for someone else as Bloodshy & Avant? Are there differences in your work ethic?

Pontus: I think… (pauses and begins to laugh) work ethic?

You know what I mean (laughs)!

Pontus: That was a very good choice of words!

Andrew: I hadn’t thought about that, but that is a huge difference.

Christian: We have no ethics.

Pontus: When we think back—say we work for like 10 days—we feel like we haven’t done anything. Then we’ll listen back and it will seem like we’ve been really productive. So we don’t really have any work ethics.

Andrew: Or any other kind of ethics (laughs). No moral scruples within the ranks of Miike Snow!

So getting hired to produce is like school, but doing your own band is like Spring Break?

Andrew: Yeah, with Jello shots (laughs).

Good to know.

Pontus: Now, with Miike Snow, we’re creating our world. When you’re hired to do something, you’re supposed to do something that is interesting and stands out, but in someone else’s world. It’s like, we’re kind of building everything from scratch with this.

You recently played at Mercury Lounge, and I was really into it because you did what I was hoping you’d do, which was really take all the different elements of the album and translate them seamlessly for a live experience. How did you guys transgress that?

Pontus: I think we saw it as something separate. The live show is a thing apart. It’s not that same thing [as the record]. We had to build it from the ground up. We decided it was out of the question to have any sort of laptops or backing tracks on stage, so we had to reinvent a lot of stuff, which actually turned out pretty well.

Andrew: It was a good way of getting strong, having to carry all that gear.

I don’t mean to diss anyone, I love electronic music and I like a lot of laptop bands, but I’m getting so tired of going to a show and seeing a band just go (mimes typing on a keyboard) ‘beep boop boop’, and like, that’s it. There are still instruments you can buy and use that will give you the same texture and sound.

Andrew: We really have a problem with it. It’s like going to a party and someone is standing in the same position the whole time. You’re like ‘Hey, this is weird, this guy hasn’t moved this whole time, and this is starting to feel uncomfortable!’ You want someone who can put their hand on you. If you’re into that (laughs). Or use some body language, or something. It’s really about spontaneity, and if you don’t have that capability, it’s really tragic. I couldn’t imagine going through all the things we have to go through, to be on tour and not being home, and getting up super early to catch planes. I mean I’m not complaining at all, but to have the payoff of creating something from scratch every night is the whole point.

Pontus: It wouldn’t feel like we were doing something live if it wasn’t actually live. For all of us, that’s the whole thing. The alternative is kind of pointless. Otherwise we could just show up, put on the record and just—

Andrew: ‘Whoo! Party!’

Pontus (laughing): We had to do it like this.

Andrew: The Mercury show was good. Someone else that we were interviewed by this morning said that some parts weren’t loud enough, or something. We’re getting to the place where we’re all dealing with the multi-tasking. There are so many different things on the record, that to do it live everybody in the band has to multi-task. We’re getting to the place where that stuff is feeling like it’s in our realm to be able to land the plane.

Pontus: Also, there’s one interesting aspect of catching a band on a good day. Some shows are going to be better than others, and you lose that when you use a backing track, or whatever safety nets you have. I think that’s really important.

It’s important to create something from scratch. I recently interviewed a band who use laptops but record everything live with studio software, so I mean, there are still ways to make it interesting, but it can be difficult.

Christian: We’re going to keep on adding and changing the live performance, which is always challenging and fun to do. We’re getting better and better at it. It’s the same thing as when we write songs, we just want to keep on changing it.

I might just be projecting my own life onto your songs but—

Andrew: That’s what you’re supposed to do (laughs)!

Exactly! I feel like there is an underlying theme of urban alienation in your tracks, that sort of darkly intelligent pop thing. Like in “Animal” and “Plastic Jungle”.

Andrew: I think there’s something that has to do with being pissed off with even having to deal with the way shit is. You know, we don’t really get to decide a lot of the way our lives are. We can decide our choices within that, but to some extent you’re born where you’re born, and civilization is the way it is, and I feel like sometimes that doesn’t take into consideration [people’s feelings], and what they have inside. That’s a big struggle for a lot of people. Probably the main struggle is how to fit in all the different desires that you have, and making sure you don’t hurt anyone else along the way, and all the complications, and sometimes it just feels like too much to deal with.

But do people even realize that that’s an issue?

Andrew: Well, sometimes people don’t ask about what they really want.

Are there any songs that touch upon that subject in particular?

Andrew: Well, I think “Animal” is. “Plastic Jungle” is more about my experience with school. Just always having such a hard time in school. I guess there is just something I like about melancholy. I don’t feel like I’m a depressed person, but I like the idea of being depressed (laughs).

Well, there are very few good songs about being happy.

Andrew: “Take on Me” by a-ha is one of the happiest songs ever written.

Tell me about the song “Sylvia”. To me it’s the most dance-inspired track on the album, with all the buildups and breakdowns and stuff. That sounds has had such a big resurgence in the past few years.

Andrew: Actually, the girl that I wrote the song about was at the show on Saturday in Williamsburg.

Was she! What was her reaction?

Andrew: We’re friends now, you know? She got out of all the things I was projecting in the song, like, what was going to happen to her. Like, she was going to do this, and end up doing porn and that it would be my fault. I was filled with all this horrible guilt and I was projecting negatively on that situation. What happened was we broke up, and she got out of all that and is studying design in San Francisco. She’s really talented. It was a happy ending, but you don’t get to hear that in the song.

See, no one likes a happy ending. You should have been like, ‘Man, she died. It was really fucked up.’

Andrew (laughing): Yeah, but it was really intense for her to have that song come out. But I don’t think in a bad way.

[Christian has taken three masks with geisha faces out of a manila envelope for the photoshoot]

Okay, what is up with the masks? At first I thought they were like, bloody surgical masks, but now that I’m looking at them up close it’s like a geisha mouth.

Christian: I think we just wanted to put the music first and not our faces. We saw the masks in a modern art museum in Tokyo. Actually, we got into the masks the first time me and Pontus were traveling in Asia during the SARS outbreak. We were on the beach in Thailand when SARS was at its worst and all the Japanese tourists were wearing masks on the beach with like, their bikinis! Everyone had a suntan like this [makes a square with his fingers around his mouth]. In Japan and Hong Kong, all these brands like Nike, Gucci, started making masks for like a week or something, until [SARS] wasn’t a threat anymore.

It’s nice to use your anonymity sometimes. When you look at a band like Daft Punk, it’s weird to imagine what you would think about their music if you knew what they looked like, and saw them walking around doing stuff.

Christian: I think a lot of bands that we like, we don’t really know what they look like.

Pontus: In some genres it’s so much more about the person than the actual music. It’s good to be pretty clear about that. It’s about the music for us.


Arctic Monkeys

Anyone who spent summer 2009 in New York will tell you, straight up, it was a wash. It rained almost every weekend all three months, and not cute, dainty, cherry-blossom-scented dewdrops either. Big, gray, scummy buckets of water drenched everything, forever, all summer long. I remember turning on the local news from under a blanket on my couch and hearing that a new NYC rainfall record had been set in Central Park for the month of June. Literally, not hot. (More …)


Cold Cave

Cold Cave is the brainchild of Wesley Eisold, the thin, black-clad young man taking the stage at the Lower East Side basement venue Cake Shop. Better known to suburban teens and cool kids as the front man and creator behind a veritable slew of hardcore and noise rock bands including American Nightmare, Give Up the Ghost and Some Girls, it may surprise some to see Wesley fronting a band whose roots are seemingly steeped more in New Order’s romanticism than all-American hardcore. (More …)

Posted on Dec 02, 2009 in Cameron Cook, Cold Cave, Coley Brown

Aeroplane

We enter a small backstage caravan in rain-sodden Victoria Park and find it littered with make-up accessories, lipstick and an assortment of fruit. “Not mine,” shrugs Vito De Luca, one half of Belgian duo Aeroplane, before he sits down and starts flicking through a magazine. They’ve just finished a well-received set at Field Day in east London, one of a handful of festival appearances in a summer schedule dominated by the recording of their debut album. Some banter ensues as to who owns said makeup (they suggest that it is mine: turns out to belong to Little Boots), and it doesn’t take long to feel the dynamic between the two: Vito, cheeky and outspoken; Steph, quiet and reserved.

The pair met in 2001. Vito, a classically trained pianist, ran a record store in Brussels. Stephen Fasano was a regular customer who had been DJing around Belgium for more than a decade. Both possessed an encyclopaedic knowledge of music–from pop and disco to soul and classical–and before long Aeroplane was born. After releasing three singles on Eskimo Records (“Caramellas”, “Pacific Air Race” and “Whispers”), the pair set about remixing the who’s who of the disco and synth pop world: Cut Copy, Lindstrom, MGMT, Das Pop and the Shortwave Set all received the Aeroplane treatment. But it was their remix of Friendly Fires’ “Paris” that really got tongues wagging, showcasing their talent by turning a fast-paced indie track into a blissful disco anthem that topped many an end-of-year chart.

In 2009 the pair released two even more accomplished remixes: A synth-soaked rework of Sebastien Tellier followed an inspiring take on Grace Jones’s “Williams’ Blood” (which was at first turned down by Jones but later accepted). Add to that a regular output of mixtapes, energetic DJ sets and a debut album due out in 2010, and it’s easy to see why Aeroplane are the frontrunners in the Balearic revival. We sat down to talk about puns, musical influences and which genre of super-fast dance music is worse: gabba or hardstyle.

I love that you guys started your set with “The Sound of C” by the Confetti’s. That’s old school Belgian dance!

Vito: Yeah. We love that song. The Confetti’s were part of the new beat scene in Belgium, so we play that track as respect to our home country.

Steph: It’s also the right kind of style to open one of our sets. We like to start things off pretty slow and build it up. Our style is similar to the new beat style in some ways.

For such a small country Belgium has a pretty eclectic history when it comes to electronic music.

Steph: It’s very true. You’ve got the big guys like Soulwax and there are also so many amazing festivals here. Pukkelpop, Dour, Rock Werchter…

And I Love Techno.

Steph: Yeah. They are all huge. And the club scene is good, too, for such a small country. We have a residency at the Make Up Club in Ghent which has been great for us.

But what about gabba, surely the worst music ever invented. That’s big in Belgium, isn’t it?

Vito: Gabba is more of a Dutch thing, but in Belgium we have this horrible music called hardstyle. It’s like the worst parts of all kinds of electronic music put together into one. Everything happens on the beat: a snare, a kick, whatever. And it’s 150 beats per minute or something crazy [Vito starts pounding his fists and making “doof doof” noises].

How did you guys meet?

Vito: I was working at a record store in Brussels and Steph was one of my regulars.

Steph: I had been DJing for many years and we just got talking about music.

Vito, did you have a hardstyle section in your record store?

Vito: Yeah, of course. I’d like to have just sold music I like but I needed to put food on the table by selling shitty records.

What kind of music inspired you growing up?

Vito: Oh, loads of stuff. I listened to a lot of soul music. Lots of hip-hop too. Oh, and Michael Jackson. I loved Michael Jackson. Both of our backgrounds are Italian, so that’s an influence. I listened to a lot of Italian pop growing up, and people like Lucio Battisti.

Steph: Michael Jackson for sure. A lot of stuff like Supertramp  (starts singing an indecipherable Supertramp song). And I’ve always loved Italo disco. It’s so cheesy but so good.

And what kind of tunes are you listening to now?

Vito: Bowie!

Steph: I’m still listening to a lot of Italo.

Vito: But in terms of new stuff, I love the Leo Zero remix of “Rabbit Hearts” by Florence and the Machine.

How is the album coming along then?

Vito: It’s nearly done. We’re not rushing it. We are allowing ourselves the opportunity to change our minds on things. I think that is important in the writing process.

Is it true that Dave from Soulwax is producing it?

Vito: No. We spoke to him and he wanted to produce it, but Soulwax’s schedule is just crazy so it was impossible to organize.

Your mixtapes are amazing; they seem to take the listener on a real journey. How do you go about putting them together?

Vito: We’ll play a lot of promo stuff that gets sent through. We try to play music we’ve just discovered. The mixtapes are just things we make on planes and trains to make the time fly.

Steph: We try and make the mixes representative of what we’re listening to at the moment, so people know what to expect when they come to one of our sets.

Vito: In our last mix we started with Siriusmo’s “High Together”. He’s such an amazing producer. No one is doing anything like him at the moment.

Steph: Two of the mixes we made–the “Taking Off” and “Landing” mixes–are pretty much one mix. They go together really nicely.

Your remix of the Friendly Fires track “Paris” was one of the tunes of 2008. It still sends shivers up my spine when I listen to it. How and why did you decide to replace the male vocals with female?

Vito: We were just sitting around listening to the different parts of the song and we heard the girl vocals [provided by members of Au Revoir Simone] on their own, which were backing the boy vocals on the original. We both loved the girl vocals so much we decided to use them instead.

Steph: It’s funny, we didn’t even know who Au Revoir Simone were at the time, but that remix worked out pretty well.

Your remix of Grace Jones’ “Williams’ Blood” was rejected at the first time of asking. What’s the story there?

Vito: At first Grace only heard certain parts of our remix and she didn’t like them, but apparently it was on a really crappy sound system. So we gave it to a blog and then before we knew it, it was on like 300 blogs. Then Grace’s management contacted us and said she wanted to have another listen and she accepted it. It all worked out great in the end.

Your most recent remix is of Sebastien Tellier’s “Kilometer”. Why did you name the remix “Italo 84”?

Vito: We called it that because we produced in that old Italo-era style in our production. We only used old drum machines and synths. No samples or software.

Is that how you do all of your production?

Vito: No, we usually produce with both traditional equipment and software. It’s getting them to work together that is the trick.

The disco revival is in full swing. Where do you see yourselves standing in that scene? A lot of people have you pencilled in as ‘cosmic disco’.

Vito: I see cosmic disco as coming more from the Scandinavian guys at the moment, like Todd Terje, Prins Thomas and Lindstrøm. That sound is characterized by very long tracks, extended intros and a really laid back kind of vibe. I don’t think we are cosmic disco. We are probably a bit more poppy than that.

The disco scene in London has exploded in the past couple of years . What city receives you the best?

Vito: London has been great for us. We have played a few gigs here. The Kitsuné party at the Scala in June–that went off. There was a stage invasion at the end. We played the Smiths as our last track and everyone went crazy. At first it was like, ’Shit what are all these people doing?’ But then we realized they were just having a good time! But we get a good reception in other places around the UK, like Manchester and Glasgow.

On Discogs.com it says you used to be called the Spankers. What’s that all about?

Vito (laughs): Ah yes, that was our first project. We were trapeze artists in a circus.

Hmm…

Vito: Okay that’s not true. We made one song and did one remix as the Spankers. That was a long time ago and we decided to change our name.

The Spankers doesn’t have quite the same ring as Aeroplane does it?

Vito: That’s why we changed it!


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