Various Artists - The Minimal Wave Tapes Vol. 2 Review

Amidst all the hand-wringing about the effects of software on electronic music, we've lost sight of one of the charms the soft-synth era has robbed us of: the joy of listening to artists learn to play with machines. Software like Ableton, Reason, and Maschine have steep learning curves but long plateaus. True amateurs don't sound blocky and tinny like vintage 808s-- that can require real skill-- but merely undistinguished.

The Minimal Wave Tapes captures a group of far-flung amateurs putting themselves through the paces of learning early model drum machines and synthesizers, nibbling on techno, electro, and industrial music in ways that led to a distinct sound. I imagine their relationship to these instruments to be much the same as children tormenting one another: learning what parts to pinch, twist, and pull in order to achieve the desired effect. The Minimal Wave Tapes Vol. 2 is again compiled by Stones Throw head Peanut Butter Wolf and Minimal Wave label founder Veronica Vasicka. It offers no new narrative or stated focus and thus represents nothing more than the second gleaning of tracks from the cloistered minimal wave universe.

Still, there's something undeniable here. We're dealing with a sound that grew in loosely knit local networks hundreds of miles from one another and decades later has inspired DIY archivists and collectors. If nothing else we can say that this sound-- still reedy, red-eyed, and frayed-- is magnetic enough that disparate groups have arrived at it without much aid. Minimal wave is, perhaps, a natural sound to produce when you're isolated and have machines to fondle. And these musicians understood how isolated they were: "The Drum", a severe, pothole ridden jam, opens with a warped voice, "Hello, my name is O-ha-ma, and I live on a potato farm in western Canada." The liner notes for Vol. 2 are short but specific, often naming the specific drum machines, keyboards, and recordings equipment used. I'm reminded of the famous Silver Jews line, "When the sun sets on the ghetto all the broken stuff gets cold." Replace "ghetto" with "small European city."...full text Synth dabblers, noiseniks, metalheads and chillwavers, as well as some enterprising larger indie labels, have been trading and distributing cassettes in the last couple years, rendering a once obsolete medium functional and interesting, if not entirely relevant, once again. It's not the most effective way of putting out new music, nor the most durable, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't understand the romanticism of it. These rare, limited-run capsules of musical obscurities act less as consumer goods and more like extremely rare gifts or keepsakes, something that can be traded and treasured by a lucky handful of listeners, only to be re-dubbed, uploaded and re-traded back into the circles of those who, otherwise, might not have even been aware these items even existed.

It seems quaint now, but in the late '70s and early '80s, this is how a lot of musicians actually made and distributed their music, via 7- or 12-inch vinyl or cassette, only without the added convenience of the Internet to get the word out. Many such musicians that primarily recorded synth-based post-punk and new wave with home recording devices built up a long-distance network via the Contact List of Electronic Musicians, a fanzine that brought together underground artists via shared stylistic and aesthetic interest. Most of these synth-based groups might have been lost in obscurity were it not for a resurgence of sorts in coldwave and minimal synth nostalgia, primarily through Minimal Wave Records and its founder, New York DJ Veronica Vasicka, who curated the first Minimal Wave Tapes compilation for Stones Throw in 2010.

Two years later, with once-forgotten minimal synthesizer artists like Ruth and The Units being reissued and other labels getting in on the synth-punk compilation enterprise, Vasicka has curated a second edition of The Minimal Wave Tapes. Volume 2 of this exceptional series continues to focus on artists that share the same penchant for lo-fi post-punk sounds produced on primitive synthesizers with minimal song structures. And much like its predecessor, its lineup of strange and obscure talent yields some strangely captivating material.

Spanning from the United States and Canada all the way to France and Belgium, and as far east as Australia, the 14 artists on The Minimal Wave Tapes Vol. 2 have more similarities than differences, despite being separated by great distances. Yet, that said, some use their analog technology to make more melodic creations than others. Great Britain's Hard Corps make a funky club banger on "Dirty," while Greece's In Trance 95 takes a more eerie, almost gothic approach to their synth-pop sound on "Presidente." However, the Netherlands' Das Ding strays from conventional songcraft, opting for Cabaret Voltaire's combination of EBM and sound collage on the whooshing and honking "H.S.T.A." But then again, you have artists like Los Angeles' Geneva Jacuzzi, which dabbles in a creepy and claustrophobic, yet undeniably melodic sound on "The Sleep Room," layering disorienting strata over a Suicide-like organ-pulse arrangement....full text Synth dabblers, noiseniks, metalheads and chillwavers, as well as some enterprising larger indie labels, have been trading and distributing cassettes in the last couple years, rendering a once obsolete medium functional and interesting, if not entirely relevant, once again. It's not the most effective way of putting out new music, nor the most durable, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't understand the romanticism of it. These rare, limited-run capsules of musical obscurities act less as consumer goods and more like extremely rare gifts or keepsakes, something that can be traded and treasured by a lucky handful of listeners, only to be re-dubbed, uploaded and re-traded back into the circles of those who, otherwise, might not have even been aware these items even existed.

It seems quaint now, but in the late '70s and early '80s, this is how a lot of musicians actually made and distributed their music, via 7- or 12-inch vinyl or cassette, only without the added convenience of the Internet to get the word out. Many such musicians that primarily recorded synth-based post-punk and new wave with home recording devices built up a long-distance network via the Contact List of Electronic Musicians, a fanzine that brought together underground artists via shared stylistic and aesthetic interest. Most of these synth-based groups might have been lost in obscurity were it not for a resurgence of sorts in coldwave and minimal synth nostalgia, primarily through Minimal Wave Records and its founder, New York DJ Veronica Vasicka, who curated the first Minimal Wave Tapes compilation for Stones Throw in 2010.

Two years later, with once-forgotten minimal synthesizer artists like Ruth and The Units being reissued and other labels getting in on the synth-punk compilation enterprise, Vasicka has curated a second edition of The Minimal Wave Tapes. Volume 2 of this exceptional series continues to focus on artists that share the same penchant for lo-fi post-punk sounds produced on primitive synthesizers with minimal song structures. And much like its predecessor, its lineup of strange and obscure talent yields some strangely captivating material.

Spanning from the United States and Canada all the way to France and Belgium, and as far east as Australia, the 14 artists on The Minimal Wave Tapes Vol. 2 have more similarities than differences, despite being separated by great distances. Yet, that said, some use their analog technology to make more melodic creations than others. Great Britain's Hard Corps make a funky club banger on "Dirty," while Greece's In Trance 95 takes a more eerie, almost gothic approach to their synth-pop sound on "Presidente." However, the Netherlands' Das Ding strays from conventional songcraft, opting for Cabaret Voltaire's combination of EBM and sound collage on the whooshing and honking "H.S.T.A." But then again, you have artists like Los Angeles' Geneva Jacuzzi, which dabbles in a creepy and claustrophobic, yet undeniably melodic sound on "The Sleep Room," layering disorienting strata over a Suicide-like organ-pulse arrangement....full text Minimal wave, cold wave, potayto, potahto – it’s all the same to us: steely, off-its-rocker, bare-bolts synth music that made barely a dent in the ’80s, but, like a hardwired northern soul for nerds, now enjoys cult status and wields influence over Grimes, Factory Floor and plenty more. This second volume of rarities and remasters, compiled by minimal wave excavator Veronica Vasicka and Peanut Butter Wolf, is a wonky, Teutonic thing full of outré drama (Edne Shneafliet’s ‘Animals From Outer Space’) and should-be pop classics (In Aeternam Vale’s Suicide-like ‘Annie’ and Aural Indifference’s ‘Theme’). Brrr, it’s chilly though....full text