Pink Noises: Women on Electronic Music and Sound

By Tara Rodgers
Duke University Press

I was about fifteen years old when PinkNoises.com started up. I was very involved in riot grrrl music, so perhaps it's no surprise that I liked a website specifically dedicated to women in electronic music. The DIY section was my particular favorite because it was the first time I had seen a music tutorial specifically written for amateur female artists. This section was full of information and resources, while being simple and direct. Creativity and experimentation were emphasized. Not only was I capable of creating my own music, but was also encouraged to.

The writer of this content—as well as the rest of the Pink Noises website—was Tara Rodgers. After years of performing and researching, she came out with a book by the same name. Much like her website, the book encourages the creativity and capabilities of women in electronic music. Tara interviewed twenty-four different female artists; a diverse collection of electronic musicians, sound artists, composers, DJs, remixers, and performance artists. The end result is a book heavily, wonderfully saturated with facts, ideas, and experiences.

On the flip side, I wish this book came with a CD featuring one song from each artist interviewed. However, there are lists of female artists and websites at the end of the book. Also, I felt my eyes glazing over some of the interviews. Though I admired women
who were rich with technical knowledge and musical theory, I need to revisit their ideas when I have more musical experience. There is a helpful glossary of terms in the back of the book for those of us still learning.

Other interviews struck chords in me that had never been validated before. For instance, noticing that I shared a similar, basic upbringing of music as they did; we loved music growing up, took a few years of an instrument in school, joined a band, quit the band. Many of these women experienced sexism and unreliability of other performers while in rock bands. I kept seeing interviewees mention that electronic music is a great way to be creative without having to suffer misogyny or flakiness of others.

Creativity without bad attitudes? Sounds like a dream come true! Well, it is for the most part. Unfortunately, we still have the sexism of the electronic music industry to deal with. For example, most people probably envision a man wearing headphones and a hooded sweatshirt when they hear the phrase "electronic musician." This is a shame; Pink Noises clearly demonstrates women of all stripes as electronic musicians, many of whom have been creating for decades.

While some of the interviewed musicians reported positive community and good resources, others felt the blow of not having their work taken seriously or being excluded from electronic music magazines, events, and other outlets. It's no wonder that many female electronic musicians take up androgynous names or wear masks while performing. Both of these factors help demonstrate the artist's personal identity to their audience. However, I feel as though some female artists may also be conjuring Joan of Arc in order to be taken seriously.

In the book's introduction, Rodgers touches base on the history of electronic music. She notes that electronic music's beginnings stem from war. She writes that "amplification and recording technologies emerged directly from wartime expenditures or were funded for their potential military applications." The earliest electronic music piece, "The Art of Noises" (1913), is a "bold celebration" of "machines, modern industry, and war." Even the terminology of electronic music refers to war; "executes" a programming "command," DJs "battle," computer "crash."

Considering an industry with early war associations and plagued with sexism today, it's no wonder that there are so few women involved. Pink Noises succeeds in immortalizing a talented, diverse collection of female artists, as well as encouraging women to get involved in creating for themselves.

Review by Jacquie Piasta

Castle Oldchair and Kid Primitive Family - Newborn Slime/White Light Split

Graymalkin Productions

According to the Musical Family Tree website, musician Kid Primitive was so “enchanted” by the album Newborn Slime, by Castle Oldchair, that he felt the need to “create a sister album for it.” So, here we have the two albums together, like peanut butter and jelly smashed at the bottom of your book bag. Could this be a match made in heaven? Or will this double album make you wish you had brought money for the lunch lady special?

Let me describe it this way: you know that guy at the party who everyone tries to avoid because he’s rolling on E, or has taken a fistful of psilocybin mushrooms, or both? You know the one: his eyes are like cartoon swirls and he will somehow manage to corner you and talk for two hours about mystical fortresses, tiger princesses, aliens, and bizarre Greek philosophies you’re pretty sure never existed? Put that guy in a room with a karaoke machine and two adolescent boys making farting noises with their armpits, and what you get is Newborn Slime/White Light.

I suppose you could call the album essentially a cappella, since there are really only two tracks with instruments. Some a cappella albums, like Björk’s Medúlla, are excellent. Newborn Slime/White Light sounds roughly like an Andre the Giant or Sloth from The Goonies flatulence celebration. There are a few passable attempts at beatboxing on tracks like "Thanks with an X," but generally those disintegrate rapidly into moaning, bleating, lip farting/raspberry making, and spoken word-esque vocals that sound like they are being squeezed out of a pinched balloon.

Nearly every track on the album is physically difficult to endure. Frankly, I’m fairly certain there were only two songs that kept the headphones in my ears throughout the whole experience: “Innerlewd” and “Outerlewd,” the only guitar tracks on the album. Both have some pleasant and even interestingly technical guitar picking, and effectively kept me hoping that there was light at the end of a very bleak tunnel.

“Innerlewd” and “Outerlewd” show that these guys do have some talent for writing interesting stuff. A quick peek at their respective MySpace pages also reveals that they are capable of creating listenable-even likable-music. Perhaps, however, these are simply fleeting moments of clarity in an otherwise viscous heap of unpleasant detritus that I would rather not have to wade through. For me, music has to be an experience that I enjoy or somehow get something out of. It can be painful, cathartic, or abrasive, as long as there is some link to some kind of worthwhile experience. I just can't seem to find that here, in a mountain of noises that sound essentially like "horny cats getting hit by cars" or the "annoying yet tortured ghost of Wallace Shawn" (those were actual notes I wrote in my notebook as I listened to the album for the first time). Unfortunately, I’m fairly certain a true appreciation of this album is only accessible through a large quantity of illicit substances, which is also the best argument against drug use I’ve ever heard.

Review by Emily S. Dunster

Evelyn Evelyn

Eleven Records

“Real art has the capacity to make us nervous.” —Susan Sontag

Evelyn Evelyn is the creation of Amanda Palmer (of the Dresden Dolls and lately a successful solo artist) and musician Jason Webley. Palmer and Webley have built a layered piece of art rather than simply a collaborative musical effort or side project. It includes an intricate back story in addition to its musical content: Evelyn Evelyn are conjoined twins, each one named Evelyn Neville (since neither they nor anyone else could keep straight their given names “Eva” and “Lyn”) who were purportedly discovered via MySpace by Palmer and Webley. Between them they have three legs, two arms, two hearts, three lungs, and a single liver. Born in 1985, there is little information known about the twins until 1996, when they appeared at Dillard and Fullerton's Traveling Circus. In 2007, Palmer and Webley “made contact” with Evelyn and Evelyn and encouraged them to make a studio record.

I first heard about this project at an Amanda Palmer show and thought it was creative, interesting, and different. However, the feminist blogosphere went supernova with rage after the Evelyn Evelyn project became more widely known, claiming Palmer engaged in “crip drag,” and objecting to the idea that conjoined twins “need help” from two able-bodied people. To complicate matters more, the twins' background (as stated on the record) involves a history of sexual exploitation and abuse, which was further fuel for feminist media laser-sights. Afterward, Palmer seemed not to be able to do anything right in the eyes of Internet feminism, and a quick Google search will reveal headlines like “3 Reasons We're Over Amanda Palmer,” “Amanda Palmer Behaves Like An Asshole Part 37,” and “How Amanda Palmer Lost a Fan or, My Own Private Backlash.” (Interestingly, Jason Webley seemed largely spared from the backlash for a project he helped create.)

As for the music itself, the twelve songs on Evelyn Evelyn are catchy, almost jingle-like tunes that rely heavily on piano, accordion, ukulele, and violin, and Palmer and Webley harmonize wonderfully. “The Tragic Events of September” parts one, two, and three are spoken word over a spooky piano background in which the twins tell of their woe-filled life while speaking of themselves in the third person. Each one is punctuated with sound effects and lines spoken by the “characters” in the song. Other songs on the record, including “Sandy Fishnets,” “Elephant Elephant,” and “Chicken Man,” further detail events in the twins' lives.

“My Space,” which is a tribute to the social networking site on which the twins were supposedly discovered, was heralded as the singing debut of Frances Bean Cobain; her voice is layered over many other guest singers, however, and is impossible to distinguish. This song sounds like a parody of every bombastic '80s power ballad in memory, and includes drums and a lengthy guitar solo. The album ends with a very pretty ukulele cover of Joy Division's “Love Will Tear Us Apart.”

This record is of interest to fans of show tunes, noir, cabaret, and Tin Pan Alley. The theatricality and operatic nature of the music and storyline will appeal to ex-drama students, and current fans of Amanda Palmer and Jason Webley will appreciate the interesting tangent in their respective current careers that still maintains the level of cleverness and originality fans have come to expect from each.

Review by Natalie Ballard