Burial remixes the electronica genre
Published Nov. 27, 2007
In the electronic music scene, anonymity has always been a commodity. Genre superstars such as Aphex Twin and Boards of Canada have all benefited from shrouding their work in mystery, producing their albums in secret, using pseudonyms, and largely eschewing interviews and live shows. UK producer Burial has taken a similar approach, and if the mounting media attention is any indication, it's working.
Taking a cue from his peers, Burial militantly refuses to reveal his identity or play out in an effort to let his music stand alone in a musical climate that is often as concerned with an artist's mythology as it is with his work. But his anonymity isn't merely a gimmick or an angle for lazy reviewers on a short deadline (cough), his new record, Untrue, stands as one of the most inspired works of electronic music in recent memory. It's a left-field gem that will surely find a place on many a hip journalist's year-end top 10 list. Since his self-titled debut on Hyperlab in 2006, Burial has been one of the biggest names in dubstep, a recent outgrowth of the UK garage scene characterized by syncopated drum patterns, dissonant chord structures and heavily-manipulated vocal samples. But one doesn't need to be an electronica geek to fall for Untrue; anybody with an open mind will find a lot to dig.
The songs on Untrue exist in a monochrome, post-apocalyptic atmosphere that feels simultaneously nostalgic and futuristic. Sounds come from a distance, enveloped by heavy reverb and a constant subwoofer haze.
The beats feel completely organic, constantly shifting, pausing and collapsing onto themselves over a bed of spaced-out pads and artificial strings. Odd-found sounds surface briefly deep in the mix only to disappear seconds later. Vocal samples are never intrusive and rarely intelligible, always pitch-shifted and processed to fit into the sonic collage.
While always working within the basic dubstep blueprint, Burial also incorporates elements from other electronic styles. Quieter, Eno-esque tracks draw heavily from ambient music and offer repose from the often-exhausting aural assault, making the disc a more cohesive listen than his debut. They're far from filler, though; they also feature some of its most interesting and haunting textures, coaxing warmth and humanity from sterile electronic equipment.
For instance, the percussion-less "Endorphin" provides one of the album's lightest moments with a sunny, synthesized choir and trancy warbling before falling apart and spiraling back into minor-key darkness. He also pulls in house influences with "Raver," which lives up to its name with an abnormally solid drumbeat and some downright catchy changes — perhaps offering a glimpse of what we can expect from Burial in the future.
Untrue benefits from the self-conscious decision for artistic obscurity, functioning better as a self-contained statement than it would otherwise. Burial has outgrown his genre and created a soulful, human portrait of isolation and loneliness less appropriate for the dance floor than for a pair of headphones on a cold, late-night bus ride. It feels like a somewhat bizarre artifact from some other world, operating on an infectious subconscious level that defies explanation.
It is a thoroughly intriguing and intimate listen — the sort of stuff that might make people rethink electronic music entirely.