I shudder to think how true audiophiles feel about lo-fi
music. To the music consumer who struggles to make sure every note comes
through just as recorded, lo-fidelity genres like garage rock, a genre that
distorts itself as much as possible from recording to mastering to get its
sound, must feel like a cruel joke. All of those lost sub-tones,
microvariations, and studio noises are like a slap in the face to every $600
dollar pair of headphones and thousand-dollar-plus studio systems in the world.
Being a low-grade audiophile (my headphones are in the
relatively cheap $200-400 range) myself, I’ve had my share of issues with lo-fi
music for years. Even if it is a deliberate choice these days to release a mass
market album that sounds like something recorded in the 40s, it still grates at
me that some musicians choose to sacrifice whole aspects of their songs in
pursuit of some form of “authentic sound”. The fact that this music often
sounds grittier than what was made in that era is all the more irritating.
Even in standard pop, which is generally crafted to be as
hi-fidelity as possible, the issues involved in the Loudness War make it more
unlistenable than even the most enthusiastic of the garage rock revivalists.
Between the mass compression created by increasing the volume of the music and
the pervasive, much-hated effects of Auto-Tune, modern-day plastic pop comes
through just as lossy as most lo-fi music. The only difference is that artists
of the latter type are limiting the noises found in their music for a
deliberate reason. Even if that reason is flawed, misguided, or plain old
infuriating (as it so often is), it’s at least being done for reasons other
than grabbing people’s attention.
What both garage rock revivalists and pop producers are
aiming for, I think, is some degree of dehumanization, albeit through very
different methodologies. Both genres are focused, by and large, on amping up
large numbers of people in the most direct way possible. The way to do that
isn’t with clever lyrics or ornate instrumentation, but through
punch-in-the-gut levels of noise, layered together into a cohesive whole. The
songwriting can be as brilliant as it wants, so long as it doesn’t call
attention to itself with the kinds of post-modern quirks found in alternative and
art music. Everything must be presented in a way that contributes to the
greater whole, the exact opposite of the look-at-me solos found in most rock
and metal songs.
As bizarre as it may seem, lo-fidelity music’s ultimate aim
is aesthetic appeal; the simple fact that musicians in the genre are reaching
for an ideal sound (which, in most cases, is the mangled noise of Robert
Johnson) ensures that, even if it is the polar opposite of pop’s ideally
‘perfect’ sound. Generally, both processes even end up achieving remarkably
similar effects: both genres are marked by distorted vocals (lo-fi through
distortion and pop through Auto-Tuning), a de-emphasis on instrumental solos,
and a general lack of flashy fills from the rhythm section. Both genres even
tend to use volume dynamics for flashy effect, further narrowing the gap. Even
if the specific type is different, garage rock and other lo-fi genres are as
bound by their attempt to achieve a specific kind of sound and appeal to a
specific audience as pop music is.
While The Black Keys and Jack White’s various bands mix this
obligation with rock’n’roll swagger, The Strokes are far purer in their
garage-revival methods, stripping away even the punk-style passion that most
classic artists in the genre exhibited. In spite of its transistor radio sound,
Is This It is closer to the proto-alternative asceticism of Television
than the free-wheeling lo-fi of “96 Tears”. Though simpler in composition and
virtuosity than Television’s self-titled debut, The Strokes are still a bit
more academic than most garage rock I can think of, which was generally so
upbeat that it ended up being a major part of the surf rock scene.
Even though there are some songs on the album that are most
upbeat (the two major singles, “Last Nite” and “Someday” come to mind), the
general mood of Is This It is closer to that of the mellow title track.
Described by the band as their attempt at a ballad, “Is This It” is more
deadpan than sad, with the singer, Julian Casablancas, sounding like he’s
barely in the room. It’s not quite a sneer, and it’s not quite sarcastic;
Casablancas’ detachment is more pronounced than either of those words suggests.
It’s that very detachment that grips most of the album,
recalling Interpol’s Turn On The Bright Lights. Though Interpol’s album
is a bit more lush and produced, both albums are fundamentally similar in that
they share not only a deadpan mood but also a goal of portraying the bands’
shared home and origin: New York City. They also share a curious tendency of
sounding detached and isolated in spite of any emotions the singers let peek
through.
In the case of The Strokes, that sound of ghostly detachment
has, in my opinion, a rather obvious cause: the album’s lo-fidelity.
Casablancas’ voice sounds like its being played through a cheap radio set, and
often sounds even more distorted than the instruments. The effect is similar to
what happens to an R&B singer once they’ve been filtered through Auto-Tune:
emotions fade and the singer seems to be standing too far away to hear very
clearly.
That being said, the specifics are different. Is This It
is a far cry from the heavily layered sound of contemporary R&B, adopting a
sound I liken to superflat art. Aside from the comparatively pronounced bass,
most of the songs on Is This It sound like they were mixed down to a
2-track tape, no doubt a result of the aforementioned cheap, lo-fi recording
style used on the album. Even the tracks with relatively pronounced production,
such as the two lead singles I mentioned before, seem compressed. That
compressed sound is another similarity between this album and the lion’s share
of contemporary pop, though whether this was completely deliberate or a symptom
of the general Loudness War in modern music is a bit difficult to say.
Where Is This It differs from plastic, Auto-Tuned pop
is that its sound and style were deliberate choices on the part of the band,
rather than one made by its producers. Because of this, the album still feels
and sounds human, albeit a somewhat 2-dimensional one. Instead of having trends
and techniques hoisted upon it by a bottom-line motivated gang of engineers and
technicians, Is This It has a sound that seems self-determined. What I
read into it is entirely secondary to the fact that the album sounds like a couple
of guys having a good time. That we’re apparently listening to that party
through a wall or two dampens the effect, but it doesn’t erase it.
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