The hype that has accompanied this release is fairly incredible. Not in the traditional major label money based promo hype, but in terms of internet blog hype. Indeed, the track that got all this started, ‘Bicycle’ reached No. 1 on the Hype Machine blog aggregator, as good an indicator as any of huge indie internet popularity. Which leaves the obvious question – does Seek Magic live up to expectations?
Memory Tapes is a one-man project, that of Dayve Hawke, based in New Jersey, U.S.A.. The basic template is of airy pop with references to electronica, indie-dance and even, at a small stretch, new wave synth-pop. As befitting the D.I.Y. bedroom aesthetic, the sounds are very synthetic (which is not at all a criticism). The piano that finishes ‘Green Knight’, for example, has trails of the simulated vibrato needed to keep things from becoming sterile. However, Hawke throws plenty of variety around and presumably plays many pieces in real time which keep things human. This is not machine music.
Much of the writing about Memory Tapes’ music mentions New Order, and there are certainly elements of that present – ‘Stop Talking’ has a definite lineage that can be traced to the early 80s, but it’s much less bombastic, and Hawke’s voice reminds me much more Ross Wilson than anything Bernard Sumner might sing. Actually, now that I think about it, a disco-fied Mondo Rock is a fairly good description of Seek Magic though it is, admittedly, highly unlikely that Hawke would have ever heard much of Wilson’s early 80s incarnation from the other side of the world. But there is the same attention to songcraft and the deployment of a fairly digestible sound spectrum. Hawke has the advantage of an extra 30 years of dance music to call on. ‘Graphics’ is resolutely housey for large patches, interspersed with some nicely queezy (emulated) analogue synth lines. ‘Run Out’ closes the album proper with a gentle trip-hop groove under new wave synths and lo-fi guitar wash. The Australian edition adds two bonus tracks, a Horrors remix of ‘Bicycle’ which adds an odd mix of rain and train field recordings before settling into a nicely hypnotic repetitive 8-bit groove. The final track is a 17 minute ode to screen composer John Carpenter. It could almost be a mega-mix of the albums tracks, interspersed with terse horror movie mood samples.
I’m glad that someone like Dayve Hawke, with an obvious labour of love, has been the recipient of such a vast array of attention, rather than some pseudo-alternative major label product. For my own tastes, I couldn’t declare it particularly ground breaking or essential listening. However, it certainly has its own charms and moments of euphoric bliss.
Adrian Elmer
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