I cherished this spectacular article Harry Pearson wrote for his HPSoundings blog a couple years ago about his stereo systems being Time Machines. It was like he channeled my brain directly for that piece, because I feel the same way about my systems—headphone and stereo, in-room. But I’ve gotta admit, I’ve been on some crazy stereo rides via my headphone/personal audio systems lately.
There have been times over the past year when all I could even think to do was cry and pout, or find a deep connection to the music playback experience in order to shut my brain down. When things get heavy (and tonight was one of those times), sometimes I go a lil’ nutty and tear down some of my reference headphone systems, setting up new configurations that fit my mood.
Sometimes I wanna bang some minimal underground tech-house or drum-n-bass/dubstep. Other times it’s straight-up pop music or hip-hop. Tonight, I needed a high dose of electronic music—and not that soulless trance crap. I needed some thumpin’ kicks, acid stabs, nice drummy builds and breakdowns; just the kinda tracks that bang.
It was one of those regretful situations where the day was awesome, then next thing you know you’re on the phone with a dear friend, locked in an insane misunderstanding that just keeps going—and that kills all the good energy you had from earlier in the day. Fuck, that’s frustrating. But such is life, right?
In order to deal with that bullshit, I had to quench my jones for some deep electronic tracks.
I was psyched to come across Akkord’s new two-track EP, Obelisk, and the silly-skilled Richie Hawtin’s new LP, From My Mind To Yours. While shopping for the records, the audio-clip samples were strong indicators that I’d found exactly what I was looking for sonically. I couldn’t wait to crank these tunes after downloading the FLACs and converting ’em over to AIFFs for my Amarra Symphony/iTunes player software.
Both records have been dark and deafening in the low bass—a trait I was desperately seeking for some mental realignment during this all-night listening sesh. If you’re looking for some wicked-sounding electronic music, check out either of these albums. You can grab ’em on vinyl, 24-bit FLAC, or even compressed files. I needed to hear this mad headphone stack I put together, so waiting for the vinyl simply wasn’t an option.
Sonic Satori Personal Audio Lab System for This Listening Session
- Amarra Symphony & Amarra for TIDAL software on my MacBook Pro Retina SSD
- McIntosh D100 DAC (running fully balanced)
- Cavalli Audio Liquid Gold & Liquid Carbon
- Cypher Labs Sustain84 (killer lil’ dynamic tube amp – review to follow)
- Audeze LCD-2F, MrSpeakers ETHER & ETHER-C planar magnetics, plus the ENIGMAcoustics Dharma D100 hybrid electrostatic/dynamic driver
- Double Helix Cables Comp4 Spore dual-XLR, Xtreme 4-pin XLR, new Comp4 headphone leads, and custom XLR interconnects (DAC-to-amp)
- Nordost Heimdall 2 signal cables, power cables, headphone leads for the ENIGMAcoustics Dharma D100, with the entire system powered through the Nordost QBase QB8, QV2s, and QK1s
Ever feel like you just wanna escape your everyday life, even if only for a fleeting moment?
Deep electronic music is like an audible drug for me sometimes. I can close my eyes and imagine myself back in a club, dancing those same blues away. I miss that release. But Akkord and Hawtin kept me listening all night. I’m still up, typing these words, at 7:17 AM. I think that says a lot about the overall experience.
I highly recommend it if you ever find yourself in a situation like the one I described above.
I’ve said it before, and I ain’t scared to say it again:
Music’s like a sonic soul salve.
There’s nothing like an all-nighter to recharge your spiritual batteries and get you thinking—or, frankly, stop you from thinking at all. I needed a bit of both tonight, and these two records took me for some grand headphone rides.
I don’t always get into the sonic quality of an album here at OccupyHiFi, as the focus is usually more on the music itself when I’m writing about records. But tonight was a package deal. I tore down one system and built another specifically for this listening session, then picked a couple records I thought might blow my ears back. Thankfully, I think I was right.
Akkord is as hard-hitting and deep as ever on Obelisk, which is admittedly a bit of a tease. But it’s a DJ record, built for their sets at clubs and events, so these types of releases usually only have two to four tracks. Maybe it’s the DJ still inside me, but I don’t care if the damn thing’s a full LP, an EP, or a single—if I dig the track, I want it.
Being addicted to music has few drawbacks, especially compared to other things.
Rockin’ Richie Hawtin and Akkord tonight reminded me of one of the things I cherish most about music: I can always find something that sounds fresh and unfamiliar. That’s also what keeps me and my friends constantly looking for new music.
But what do I love most about music?
OK… I may be reaching here, and I’ll probably regret saying this is my favorite thing about music because that answer changes all the time, right?
I love music’s ability to pull me in and give me a break from the minutiae and stresses of everyday life.
I’m also a sound geek because I believe strongly that much of the emotive power of transformative music can be felt more deeply when it’s played back at realistic dB levels and without a ton of distortion. Music hits me far deeper when I experience it live, or when it’s coming from a killer hi-fi system, than it ever could through the cheap mass-market speakers built into my flatscreen.
The more dynamically engaging the system—the delivery mechanism—the deeper I can lose myself in the music.
When I wanna forget about paying the bills, or the daily hustle (we all got one), I can always rely on music to affect my mood one way or another, regardless of whatever’s spinning around in my life at the time.
Sometimes I hear solemn music during a dark period and end up feeling even more depressed. I’m sure most of us remember how hard music could be to listen to after a breakup, when everything reminded you of the person you lost.
Nevertheless… we keep listening to that crap anyway.
I also believe this resonates with people like us because music isn’t merely a universal language—it’s a part of us. Our hearts beat to a rhythm that keeps our precious blood flowing. Without a consistent beat—or no beat at all, for that matter—we’re dead.
I’ve felt that connection many times. Most of those moments came while I was dancing my ass off at underground raves in Brooklyn.
The kicks and bass pumped along with everything else. Those club systems would hit me square in the chest with such authority that I often felt compelled to move, even when I was completely torn up from stomping all night long.
That was a healthy way to exercise my demons: bringing ’em to the dancefloor.
I miss stomping away my troubles.
It never actually solved those problems, but I always felt liberated sweating them out.
I think we could all use some get-down-and-dirty dancin’ every now and then
ENIGMAcoustics Dharma D1000 hybrid electrostatic/dynamic headphones with Cardas Clear
So I couldn’t go to a warehouse party last night and dance away my crap, but I still craved those wicked beats.
Thank you, Akkord and Richie Hawtin—aka Plastikman.
Listening to these albums together was, simply stated: wicked.
I was transported back to underground party chill-out rooms and huge, dark warehouse spaces full of kids just goin’ for it… dancin’ their asses off.
I started the sesh with Akkord’s “Monolith,” and damn… the kick alone was mesmerizing.
It had this textural quality surrounding the core of every low-end hit, and it slammed like Thor’s freakin’ hammer—especially through my Audeze LCD-2Fs.
The bass created these quick audible waves that rippled outward, almost like tossing a stone into a lake.
It wasn’t overhang or a lack of speed on the system’s part. Quite the contrary, actually.
I was hearing different gates and triggers within the composition that simply didn’t stand out when I was shopping for the record. Of course, I wasn’t wearing the most revealing headphones when I bought the albums, but the detail retrieval was wildly holographic and dimensional.
“Megalith,” the second cut from the Obelisk EP, featured this razor-sharp synth that shot across the soundstage.
It left what I can only describe as an audible trail. The sound would trigger, dart across the stage, and leave behind a sort of echo in its wake.
Akkord is as hard-hitting and deep as ever on Obelisk, which is admittedly a bit of a tease, but it’s a DJ record for their sets at clubs and events, so these types of records usually only have two to four tracks. Maybe it’s the DJ still inside me, but I don’t care if the damn thing’s a full LP, an EP, a single, or whatever—if I dig the track, I want it. Being addicted to music has few drawbacks, especially compared to other things.
Rockin’ Richie Hawtin and Akkord tonight reminded me of one of the things I cherish most about music: I can always find something that sounds fresh and unfamiliar. That’s also what keeps me and my friends looking for new music. However, what do I love most about music? OK, I may be reaching here, and I’ll probably regret saying this is my favorite thing about music because that answer changes all the time, right? I love music’s ability to pull me in and give me a break from the minutiae and the stresses of everyday life.
I’m also a sound geek because I believe strongly that much of the emotive power of transformative music can be felt more deeply when it’s played back at more realistic dB levels and without a ton of distortion. Music hits me far deeper when I experience it live, or when its sound is emanating from a killer hi-fi system, as opposed to the cheap mass-market speakers built into my flatscreen, for example. The more dynamically engaging the system—the delivery mechanism—the deeper I can lose myself in the sounds of music.
When I wanna forget about paying the bills and the daily hustle (we all got ’em), I can always rely on music to, at the very least, affect my mood one way or another, despite whatever’s spinning around in my life at the time. Sometimes I hear solemn music during a dark period and end up feeling even more depressed. I’m sure most of us remember how hard music could be to listen to after a breakup, when everything started reminding you of the person you lost. Nevertheless, we keep listening to that crap anyway.
I also believe this resonates with people like us because music isn’t merely the universal language—it’s a part of us. Our hearts beat to a rhythm that pumps our precious blood. Without a consistent beat—or no beat at all, for that matter—we’re dead. I’ve felt that connection many times, and most of those moments came while I was dancing my ass off at underground raves in Brooklyn. The kicks and the bass pumped along with everything else. Those club systems would hit me square in the chest with such authority that I often felt compelled to move, even when I was completely torn up from stomping all night long. That was also a healthy way to exercise my demons: bringin’ ’em to the dancefloor. I miss stomping away my troubles. Though it never solved any of those problems, I always felt liberated sweating them out. I think we could all use some get down-and-dirty dancin’ every now and then.
So I couldn’t go to a warehouse party that night and dance away my crap, but I still craved those wicked beats. Thank you, Akkord and Richie Hawtin, a.k.a. Plastikman. Listening to these albums together was, simply stated, wicked. I was transported back to underground party chill-out rooms and huge, dark warehouse spaces full of kids just goin’ for it, dancin’ their asses off.
I started the sesh with Akkord’s “Monolith,” and damn, the kick alone was mesmerizing. It had this textural quality surrounding the core of the low-end hit, and it slammed like Thor’s freakin’ hammer, especially through my Audeze LCD-2Fs. The sensation of the bass pounding down created these quick audible waves that flowed outward, almost like tossing a stone into a lake. It wasn’t overhang or a lack of speed on the system’s part—quite the contrary, actually. I was hearing different gates and triggers within the composition that simply didn’t stand out when I was shopping for the record. Of course, I wasn’t wearing the most revealing headphones when I bought the albums, but the detail retrieval was wildly holographic and dimensional.
“Megalith,” the second cut off the Obelisk EP, had this razor-sharp synth that shot across the soundstage. It left what I can only describe as an audible trail. The sound would trigger, dart across the stage, and leave behind a sort of echo in its wake. Akkord also busted out some old-school industrial beats on that track. It had this darkness at the center of the sound, almost like a swirling sci-fi black hole, then this uplifting, high-energy minimal percussion would drop in and bring the energy surging back. To me, it sounded like a sunrise at an early-morning Burning Man party.
Hawtin’s From My Mind To Yours was also precisely what I was looking for. Hawtin’s legendary, and his minimal techno chops are second to none, in this reviewer’s opinion. His gradual builds are masterful. They’re never too busy and never too lean. Hawtin’s got an amazing command of the energy he harnesses with his compositions. He’s still the only electronic artist/DJ I’ve seen where the floor was packed, the energy in the place was bonkers, and yet it sounded like he was only playing and manipulating a handful of sounds at once. It was barely enough material for the average DJ to use in a twenty-second intro, let alone enough to rock a floor for hours with those minimal arrangements. Richie Hawtin—and his alter ego, Plastikman—creates amazing sonic landscapes that force me to move no matter what. That alone merits a listen, I think.
Grabbing Akkord’s Obelisk and Hawtin’s From My Mind To Yours at the same time pulled me out of a dark place that night. All I could think about while crankin’ techno through my headphones were simpler times in my life. You remember those days, right? Before we even knew what rent or mortgages were. Before we had to accept the unfortunate fact that some of the simplest things in life actually cost freakin’ money—like having our garbage picked up or keeping the electricity running through the house.