Underworld
Barking
(Cooking Vinyl Records)
Almost every single article, interview or review I’ve ever come across that deals with Underworld seems to mention that ‘Born Slippy’ was released over 15 years ago, though the perceived relevance of this fact seems to vary from piece to piece. Is it really necessary to bring that up? Well maybe, maybe not. Since then, the duo have released four albums, composed film scores, and toured seemingly eternally – they’ve obviously not degenerated into creative infertility in the years post heroin chic. Though, in the cold light of day, I suppose the fact does prompt considerations of the following conundrum: are the duo endlessly (and fruitlessly) toiling in the shadow of their mid '90s magnum opus, or have Karl Hyde and Rick Smith moved forwards in the wake of their definitive rave-baby, continually stepping up to touch the current musical zeitgeist? I suppose it’s the curse of any act that explodes into cultural relevance with as much fervour as Underworld did all those years ago. With their latest offering, entitled Barking, the duo seem to simply stall on this question – softly nudging their typically booming sound into modernity and thus contemporary significance, though perhaps not enough to escape sounding somewhat of an anachronism.
That’s not an indictment on the album by any means. Less approving critics may label Underworld a 145bpm dinosaur, lumbering around in a musical era that has long passed them by. But there is much on ‘Barking’ that suggests otherwise. Whenever the beats do boom and you feel compelled to throw some talcum powder on the floor and get out your glow-sticks, it’s simply Underworld doing what they do best - you can’t chastise an act of this weight for a nod to their formative, widely celebrated roots. The album’s first single release, ‘Scribble’, particularly recalls the grimy, amphetamine-fuelled hedonism of the ‘Born Slippy’ years; hence I suppose its appeal as a single. Yet elsewhere, there are refreshing moments of progression and appealing forward movement.
‘Hamburg Hotel’ for instance, seems to acquire much more than just its titular geography from Germany, percolating over the course of its five-minute duration in distinctive evocation of bubbly techno, and more classically industrial electronica. At once, ‘Hamburg Hotel’ suggests the robotic austerity of Kraftwerk, and the vibrant textural effervescence of contemporary dance-darlings like Popof. It’s a synthesis of past and present that typifies the overall sentiment of ‘Barking’ as a record.
Perhaps the biggest, and most refreshing surprise on Barking is a seemingly omnipresent pop sensibility, manifest in Underworlds consciousness of recurring melody. It’s essentially the subsistence of this consciousness that provides some semblance of harmony amongst a swarm of apparent generic influences, one which enables a sense of continuity across the albums nine tracks and multiple stylistic deviations. Plainly put, there’s a melodic intelligence on offer in Barking that manages to tie techno, drum and bass, electronica, piano driven ballads, and synth-heavy euro dance into a comfortably unremitting sonic bouquet. It rises to the fore most prominently in the plush, warm synthesizers of ‘Grace’, in the delicate, plaintive elegance of the Byrne and Eno inspired ‘Louisiana’ (the albums main triumph), and in the reticent vocal harmonies of the opening ‘Bird’. As an LP, Barking carefully builds and recedes with sophistication, in both atmosphere and musical style – something of an ultra-rarity in an era of rapid, indiscriminate releases and hyper music consumption.
Ultimately, whilst Underworld’s typical permutation of drum ‘n’ bass, techno and poppy electronica may not be as widely relevant: A) in Australia as opposed to the UK or Europe, and B) in 2010 as opposed to 1995, if you’re a fan of the kind of uplifting dance music so sleekly produced and shimmeringly synthetic that it glistens under the neon glare of a flickering strobe light, then here’s a rewarding slice of euphoria-for-ya.
Elliot Grigg