- 20 Avg 2007, 00:35
#876997
Bilo mi je zanimljivo kada sam čitao članak, a s obzirom da ovde ima dosta ljudi koji slušaju bar neku vrstu elektronske muzike, nije mi bilo teško da prekucam (mrzelo me da prevodim) par pasusa. Iako nisam još uvek siguran da li bih mogao da se složim sa autorom, ideja je zanimljiva, ili bar ugao gledanja koji mi se za sve ove godine aktivnog slušanja elektronske muzike nije ukazivao. Anyway, evo teksta pa da čujem komentare...
"Where the fascist aesthetic really lurks today is in the dystopias, industrial nightmares, and anti-futures conjured up by Missing Foundation's more technically accomplished European cousins like Throbbing Gristle, Front 242, and Mussolini Headkick; and in techno and trance, particularly the latter in their German (especially Berlin) variations. The electric-metal drone of contemporary industrial music/noise, interrupted by occasional collisions and detonations, suggests so much as the sonic substructure of the Third Reich - industrial power, militarized labor, and invincible technology. Fastening on the more sensations external spectacle - pageantry, mass exhilaration, Hitlerian hysterics - obscures the real engines that drove National Socialism. And, before the Nazis, the Futurists in pre- and post-World War I Italy (proto-fascists by most accounts) anticipated what was to come with their "noise machines" and musique concrete. The heavy turning of generators and turbines, the dull throb of machinery through twelve-foot walls of reinforced concrete take us into the basement of our century; concussive blasts of concetrated noise drive us yet deeper.
If even more explicitly apolitical, techno and trance nevertheless similarly reincorporate the fascist ethos, above all the militarized beat and the sensory gratification of an automaton-fanatic audience. "Know them by the places they dance" - then techno (especially in the hard, aggressive German form tekkno) and trance enthusiasts prefer exactly those locations where the Third Reich is still immediately at hand. Cheap (if any) rents and obscure addresses cannot alone explain the durable popularity, in Berlin for example, of Tresor (in the safe-keeping vault of a one-time Jewish department store next to Potsdamer Platz), Bunker (in an air-raid shelter/Gestapo prison), or E-Werk (in what remains of one of Hitler's bomb-proof electric power plants). These menacing interiors offer something altogether different than the warm narcotic ambience of The Love Parade, the big summertime all-night party when rave takes charge of the Kurfurstendamm; instead, "Full of Hate" Festivals with music (?) by Slaughter House, Ultimate Warning, and Day of Retribution."
- preuzeto iz Ward, J., 'This is Germany! It's 1933!': Appropriations and Constructions of 'Fascism' in New York Punk/Hardcore in the 1980s, u Journal of Popular Culture; Winter96, Vol. 30 Issue 3, str. 174-176.
"Where the fascist aesthetic really lurks today is in the dystopias, industrial nightmares, and anti-futures conjured up by Missing Foundation's more technically accomplished European cousins like Throbbing Gristle, Front 242, and Mussolini Headkick; and in techno and trance, particularly the latter in their German (especially Berlin) variations. The electric-metal drone of contemporary industrial music/noise, interrupted by occasional collisions and detonations, suggests so much as the sonic substructure of the Third Reich - industrial power, militarized labor, and invincible technology. Fastening on the more sensations external spectacle - pageantry, mass exhilaration, Hitlerian hysterics - obscures the real engines that drove National Socialism. And, before the Nazis, the Futurists in pre- and post-World War I Italy (proto-fascists by most accounts) anticipated what was to come with their "noise machines" and musique concrete. The heavy turning of generators and turbines, the dull throb of machinery through twelve-foot walls of reinforced concrete take us into the basement of our century; concussive blasts of concetrated noise drive us yet deeper.
If even more explicitly apolitical, techno and trance nevertheless similarly reincorporate the fascist ethos, above all the militarized beat and the sensory gratification of an automaton-fanatic audience. "Know them by the places they dance" - then techno (especially in the hard, aggressive German form tekkno) and trance enthusiasts prefer exactly those locations where the Third Reich is still immediately at hand. Cheap (if any) rents and obscure addresses cannot alone explain the durable popularity, in Berlin for example, of Tresor (in the safe-keeping vault of a one-time Jewish department store next to Potsdamer Platz), Bunker (in an air-raid shelter/Gestapo prison), or E-Werk (in what remains of one of Hitler's bomb-proof electric power plants). These menacing interiors offer something altogether different than the warm narcotic ambience of The Love Parade, the big summertime all-night party when rave takes charge of the Kurfurstendamm; instead, "Full of Hate" Festivals with music (?) by Slaughter House, Ultimate Warning, and Day of Retribution."
- preuzeto iz Ward, J., 'This is Germany! It's 1933!': Appropriations and Constructions of 'Fascism' in New York Punk/Hardcore in the 1980s, u Journal of Popular Culture; Winter96, Vol. 30 Issue 3, str. 174-176.
