Every so often I find myself on a Musique Concrete binge, sucking in my intellectual belly and digging in... names we all know and love: The 2 Pierres novelty slice and dice act, Ligature's tight shards, the Xena's seamless fog and thrust, And Walkman's golden arches and broken dreams. It's a headphone conceit, a way of making walking to work a phantasy/fantasy (it seems appropriate for the unconscious to slip alongside the conscious with this kind of music), a way of allowing the sounds in rather than simply wanting them kept out... musique concrete seems like the Venom to noise-reduction's Spiderman.
And I guess this is my concession to craft and musicianship in music, since normally I'm repelled by people who can actually play, feel they'll inevitably end up like Clapton, feel they always sound like they're want to show you how rather than why. But musique concrete is impossibly improved by knowing the time and effort all this clunking and whirring took... there might be chance here but even chance takes its toll, requires actual intervention rather than just throwing your hands in the air and ceding to the computers...
I say this just as I'm completing a track for the next IX Tab album which is entirely based around the sounds accidentally generated by a CD er, prepared, by my 2 year old son.
But, anyway, what I wanted to say was here's a heartfelt (Matmos are real fans, in all kinds of ways) tribute list from Drew Daniel, writing for Pitchfork.