Office Tart

a review by gareth metford of
release format Office Tart by Hairy Butter (LCD21/)

text

"Satirical" assaults on rave music are a favourite pastime of snobbish, supposedly "vanguard" musicians, many of whom would have trouble distinguishing a rinse-out from a rewind, let alone figuring the complexities of hardcore's ever-unfolding rhythmic mutations. Subjecting a range of samples taken from UK pirate radio (mostly snatches of 2-step garage and drum & bass) to Oval-style manipulations, Hairy Butter's 'Office Tart' at first seems like just another iteration of this ignoble tradition, an impression reinforced by track titles 'Hardcore, Up Yours' and 'I'm So Bored with the MDMA'. With repeated listens, however, a more subtle dynamic becomes apparent.

Certainly, Hairy Butter's relationship to rave is a distanced, spectatorial one. Their methods of sound recombination are as particular to the glitchcore genre as skipping snares and jittery hihats are to the music they sample; only very rarely are they prepared to get their hands dirty, and utilise rave techniques themselves. Nevertheless, 2-step and d'n'b are not Hairy Butter's only sources of audio material. Occasionally, excerpts from rock, house, and other instances of pop-cult 'normalcy' will pierce the surface of the mix, each treated in the same manner as the group's rave extracts. Plainly, to Hairy Butter, popular music in general, and not just rave in particular, is a weird, alien substance.

Viewed from this perspective, Hairy Butter start to look less like sneering aesthetes, and more like puzzled, perplexed extraterrestrials, subjecting abducted musics to the medical procedures of their homeworld, in a sincere, albeit somewhat clumsy attempt to find out what makes them tick. 'Office Tart' begins to resemble two earlier attempts by outsiders to situate aspects of rave within a separate artistic paradigm: David Bowie's 'Earthling' and Everything but the Girl's 'Walking Wounded'.

Like both these albums, the most enjoyable aspect of 'Office Tart' is the sense of genuine interest which suffuses the album, the feeling that - whatever one's initial suspicions - Hairy Butter's approach is informed by enthusiasm and respect, rather than mere ignorant spleen. Of course, there is still substantial novelty value in hearing glitchcore - bedroom music par excellence - grappling with what is, essentially, party music. And, again like Bowie / EBTG, Hairy Butter's refusal to engage with their subject(s) on a structural level, rather than simply treating them as a series of diverting textures, can become frustrating. Nonetheless, in a genre which frequently appears myopic and insular, Hairy Butter's willingness to look outside the box, if not to think outside it, is refreshing. Posted by gareth metford at 00:00, 01 May 2001