Recommendations of the Editorial team
In the 1990s, Boards of Canada, the Scottish electronic duo, were often mentioned in the same breath as their Weirdo colleagues on Warp Records. Hardly anyone would have dared to say “trip-hop” back then – and perhaps rightly so. But BoC’s languid breakbeats, warped synths and samples, and dizzying atmosphere point in exactly that direction – then and now. Even now, the term perhaps sounds too much like a specific era – too much like the ’90s, especially for a duo whose best work has proven to be downright timeless.
But look around: like skyrocketing gas prices and threats of nuclear war, trip-hop is back – and with a vengeance. Many of BoC’s strongest moments – from “Happy Cycling” on the 1999 Peel Sessions EP (later included on their 1998 debut Music Has the Right to Children) to “1969”, a highlight of 2002’s Geogaddi – have embodied this style in its faded Technicolor glory. The term itself has recently become popular again, with hipster DJs from Toronto to London dedicating entire sets to it. And Italian techno duo Voices from the Lake’s spectacular March set for the BBC Essential Mix reaches its climax when they drop “Happy Cycling” like the jackpot from a piñata.
Period charm has always been Boards of Canada’s greatest strength. They release music when it suits them, rarely reveal anything about their private lives and allow the press to come to them (ahem). Although its basic approach fits well with a current trend, and despite the vocal anti-campaign waged by the duo and their Warp Records label beforehand, “Inferno” needed about as much – or as little – astroturfing as anyone this side of Sade. The album also delivers in a similar way: If you don’t need to fix something, don’t. Yes, this record – the band’s first studio album in 13 years – sounds very after nineties. This is meant as a compliment.
The most surprising moments on “Inferno” are those that sound less like fuzzy glossolalia and instead seem directly anthemic. The nervous pulse of “Prophecy at 1420 MHz” reminds – who do we have? – of the late Massive Attack: a piercing midrange riff, a dry snare, a processed dystopian male voice, strangely calming.
Nobody does it better
As the cloudy escapism offered by Boards of Canada has now spawned a veritable cottage industry of electronic music, it’s nice to be reminded that no one does this kind of soaring lullaby better. “Introit” opens the album perfectly: half a minute of vintage synths from a half-remembered BBC science special. And “You Retreat in Time and Space” – the title itself is trip-hop, not to mention the slow drum shuffle, the gently swelling bass line, the big, fluffy keyboard motif, the rippling string pads.
“Father and Son” chops up well-behaved snippets of language into delicious cotton candy taffy – putting the company guy through the wringer may be an old production trick, but the two once again make a virtue of the cold-cut joke. But a lot of it is also directly programmatic: “Into the Magic Land” rides into a gray forest on a tremolo-soaked guitar. The world of “Inferno” is lush, rich and cinematic – transcending genres while embodying them.