In an age where societal values seem to be regressing at breakneck speeds it is startling to find music that is far beyond what is considered futuristic. Juxtapose this, an age in which public lynchings make a comeback over racial tensions, and advances in technology are ushering a new age of bionic body parts, music that straddles the line between performance art and post-modern highbrow artsy bullshit. Man takes flight out into space at prices only the elite can afford, modern warfare is creating an environment in which men sit behind desks and use joysticks and push buttons to kill the innocent and guilty alike. The face of death is more user friendly than ever, computers are thinking in ways previously unimaginable. New organs are being farmed in laboratories by scientists in order to prolong the life of mankind even further, yet tensions over thousand year old mythologies rage. Factions and rifts are created on skin tone and geographical region, food is in short supply and mankind dances to the disjointed and societally fractured music as the proverbial ship goes down in engulfing flames, aware but unconcerned.
This is the music of a generation that was expected to surpass its predecessors but given no tools. As financial markets and governments threaten never-ending near collapse and militarized everything infringes upon general citizen’s life activity and privacy. It’s something of a nostalgic concept as we enter into an age in which anything with rhythm is music and anything on canvas is art, there is nothing new under the sun, and nothing is truly under the sun, so if we are all existing in concepts of relativity this is what our culture must reflect.
Copeland reflects this dystopian futuristic sound that is next to impossible to place. It could be post-modern electronic music, or maybe experimental industrial glitch, or maybe even performance electronica poetry. Whatever genre it seeks to exhibit is of little importance. What does matter is the provocative sound that is being shared by Copeland. The artist behind the name is Inga Copeland and she previously recorded music with Dean Blunt to create their debut album “Black is Beautiful”. After parting ways with Dean Blunt Inga has self-released an album titled “Because I am Worth It”. The album is creating quite the stir in the independent music world and many people are taking note. Although relatively well noted for an album that was self-released earlier in the year, it is still unknown enough to retain that exceptional hipster status. Mention this at the next holiday party and be the “coolest” or “snobbiest” music lover in the room. You will be the star/bane of the party with your anecdotes about how music of this era should reflect the torn fabric of society and you will reap all the benefits/disgust that you deserve for knowing about a band that is incredibly obscure with off-center artistic creativity.
The first track that really expresses what the entire albums creative vision has in mind is “Insult 2 Injury”. It is more rhythmic than other tracks on the album and has an eclectic mix of uptempo beats that almost are reminiscent to some genres of dance music, but also has glitched elements that seem to be in direct lineage of the Matmos influence. Synths and ambient sounds are fused into something ethereal and almost irritating but are beautiful when listened to as a whole and not as individual pieces of composition.
The track titled “Advice To Young Girls” featuring Actress is another notable piece. The track literally gives advice to young girls to sneak out at night while parents are unaware going about their boring adult lives. The music is slightly more downtempo, expressing itself with heavier bass and deeper synth sounds that are futuristic, chic, and odd. The entire track is off-center but the type of music one would imagine would come out of an Orwellian society, computerized, machine generated rhythms that capture the listener and hold them for just a few minutes.
The music of Copeland is art imitating life in the most beautiful manner. A fractured society views itself through broken mirrors and imagines what a clean reflection might look like, there is no answer here but rather cold introspective haunting sounds that either frighten or irritate. Either way, it is the art of our generation.
Article by: Gabriel Barrio
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