Warp Records have, of late, been granted the title of Inventors Of The Bleep, but anyone who spent too much time in their bedrooms in the ’80s should be familiar with the origin of abstract unreal-music. It was the primitive early home computers – the Commodore 64, the ZX Spectrum – that gave birth to the elementary electronic lo-fi.
The work of Tasmanian sculptress Emma Davidson, ‘I Love My Computer’ draws its inspiration from such halcyon days of retro-futurism. From the far-flung borders of dance, ‘…Computer’ is to the overwhelming glut of we’re-going-to-Ibeetza compilations what [I]The Clangers[/I] is to [I]The Phantom Menace[/I] – not just a cheap alternative, but music from an entirely different sphere altogether. It’s to be seen best in the stuttering, buzzing pixillated washes of ‘Midnite Maglev’, which reinforces its boffin credentials not by warping into new sonic shapes, but by playfully sifting through yesterday’s crude electronic ephemera.
This nostalgia thing’s a one-trick pony, though. ‘Progressive Euro Track’ loops like a cartoon backdrop until even its inventive squeals sound numbly vacant; like buying a brand new Sega Dreamcast, and then playing Asteroids until your brain melts.
‘I Love My Computer’ is an occasionally tempting reminder of a wasted youth. Fine, but a hint of the future would be so much more compelling.