Kelpe and Klimek: from the faded to the filmic

Cambio Wechsel is the third album from Kelpe (pictured), who, as you can see from that link, needs to update his website.

There's plenty of head-noddingness to the ambience, especially with the thin Woodstockian groove of After Gold and the Prefuse-infused buzz bass of Eye Candy Bath.

The seaside cheefulness of The Blankout Agreement is a little underwhelming, but spiralling from psychedelia and radiophonic samples to post-rock hip hop in the course of one album is pleasing - in fact, it's frequently scrumptious.

The whole effect is like listening to a postcard from a long forgotten era, and you can just make out the words Music Has The Right To Children on the postcode. I just wonder if it's sometimes a little too slight and faded.

Klimek also throws an album at us this week, in the expansive shape of Movies Is Magic.

It's filmic. Crikes, I've called Klimek 'filmic' before, but that's the whole point of this album. The idea of producing an album of cinematic audio vistas is not new - just ask David Holmes - but this is epic stuff. It's pretty much what I imagine it's like to hear the whole universe at once.

Tracks like Pathetic And Dangerous and the fabulously-titled Exposed To Life In It's Brutal Meaninglessness sway and wash against the surround-sound speakers.

Others, such as opener Abyss Of Anxiety (Unfolding The Magic), are darker, danker, and much less multiplex, giving this album much more crunch than ambient music often offers.

68 million light years into inky space: Hyperdub is five

If this decade leaves one solitary thing lingering in the world of dance music, it's the evocative urban hauntings of dubstep.

Somehow mashing the bassment ghostliness of slower Massive Attack and the simple languar of techno circa Trance Europe Express, dubstep has trodden a stubborn path.

It has nodded like a gentleman toward the grime-ridden streets of urban R 'n' B and even (via Burial) tipped its hat toward bassline diva vocals. But the genre has remained true to itself - and, some would argue, a little stuck in the groove of late.

Still, that hasn't stopped leading label Hyperdub releasing Hyperdub 5. As you have already deduced, it's a five year celebration of the label that kicked off with Sign of the Dub in 2004 by label boss Steve 'Kode 9' Goodman (pictured).

The compilation features some exclusive gems and old favourites (some of which are on CD for the first time), from the cardboard beat of Zomby's Tarantula, to the heroin-hazed Psycho stabs of Kode 9's Time Patrol, to the broken vocal swoops of Burial's Fostercare (think Maxinquaye flung 68 million light years into inky space).

It's the first time Burial's dug up anything new since Untrue in 2007, and for that alone, Hyperdub 5 is worth more than a few of your pennies.

In the belly of the beast: a week in Tory politics

I had the "pleasure" of creating a bookshop for the "nice" delegates of the Conservative Party Conference.

I researched and ordered in about 20 grand of political books, most of them with a "certain" political bias, and then had to spend the best part of a week at the conference "enjoying" myself and "hob nobbing" with Tories and media types.

The thing with these conferences is everyone is very "polite" and no-one quite "says" anything. I also think they're a bunch of "Tory fascist blueturds" and "if I ever have to do that again, I will run screaming through the Arndale centre with fourteen machetes and a mechanical woodchipper".

Having said that, I did quite enjoy myself. Here are my tweets from the event, edited and expanded for the purposes of a blog. I warn you now: there is a lot of pathetic name-dropping of people I never really cared about before now.

The tweets in all their horror

Friday

From Monday, I will be a Tory Party Conference delegate. I am selling books. And my soul. Yay, go compromise!

Sunday

I already have Boris Johnson's dad's number in my phone.

Monday

I'm inside the Tory Conference. Actually inside it. It's like a pro-fur poor-hating Matrix. So far. i've had (and squandered) the chance to punch Eric Pickles, Boris Johnson and, um, Jon Snow.

I turned down the chance to have lunch in the Hilton with Damon Hill and lots of Tories. My political prejudice trumped my F1 love.

A Radio 5 presenter is having an animated discussion with John Redwood about the interview they'd just done. Fight, fight, fight! ("If I'd known you were going to mention Europe in the interview, I would never have done it.") More media celebrity spotting: Krishnan Guru-Murthy nearly got run over by a bus; Nick Robinson is hurrying around looking lost; Jon Snow looks like he rules the place. In fact, Jon snow has this amazing, quiet, very very tall authority. And lazers shooting from his eyes. He rules the WORLD.

I like the Tory posters. BYE BYE BUREAUCRACY! PEOPLE POWER! SOCIAL RESPONSIBILITY YES STATE CONTROL NO! KILL POOR PEOPLE! etc etc.

Tuesday

I'm the belly of the beast. The 'Gordon Brown's Porkie Pies' butchers have arrived. We're next to them. Also, fewer people in Maggie masks than yesterday. Evan Davies and his mates have just been down to my stall joshing and larking like they're in the Beano. Yargles!

John Pienaar has a massive moustache. It's bigger than him, and he's a BIG MAN.

I've just been interviewed by a louche Beeb journo. I really shouldn't have been so negative - don't think they're going to use it. I said I was surprised that people seemed pleasant, and he got all defensive and said ACTUALLY the Conservatives are very nice people. (I haven't met a horrible person yet. It's not just false politeness - actual genuine warmth.)

PETER HITCHENS. IT'S PETER HITCHENS! WHERE'S MY GUN? AAAAARGH! Yes, yes, I now have met a horrible person.

Bob Stewart has just told me, "Always look on the bright side: no-one's died." This, coming from a commander of Bosnian and Northern Ireland forces.

The best author signings are where the author works his crowd. Michael 'House Of Cards' Dobbs is a real showman, if a little Dan Brown-y in his writing. (Actually, it's Brown who is a little Dobbs-y.)

The pro-hunting debate deepens: David Cameron is literally running around a in fox suit shouting "RELEASE THE HOUNDS".

Jeremy Paxman: "I was with my brother at the weekend, scattering my mother's ashes." Stanley Johnson: "Is she dead?"

Jeremy Paxman: "Tweeting is an activity for people with an inflated sense of importance and absolutely nothing in their heads."

One Tory told me the BBC was a waste of money because it took EIGHT people to shoot a Daily Politics OB. ("They only need a cameraman.") Good job he wasn't around at the end of the conference when the Beeb accidentally smashed in one of their soundproof booths.

Wednesday

Quentin 'Daily Mail' Letts is getting all misty-eyed about the days of hanging and flogging. Well, Letty-babes, this could be your lucky day. (This, in retrospect, could be considered a death threat. I didn't type it. It was my evil twin brother.)

For sale: one photograph ID pass for a major Manchester event with a day left to run. Buyer must look like a clean-shaven Johnny Vegas. ...I am transporting some right-wing political books, on Oxford Road heading towards GMEX. If you see me, please mug me.

Paxman again. He's like a persistant puppy. Down Paxman! Get off my leg, Paxman! No, Paxman, not the hamster! (Pictured with Boris' dad.)

Paxman just called someone a "feckless parent" for letting their 12-year-old stay up to watch Newsnight. He's the ultimate grumpy old man, with more than a dash of very sharp wit.

New Statesman talk titles: "Real Freedom Or Care On The Cheap?" "Should The Public Trust The Police?" Er... duh!

Wednesday evening

I'm checking out Jerrod Cooke and Ryan Barber's Bo Jazz live sketch show, featuring my flexi-faced colleague Curtis Cole. It's a great mix of comedy talent, but I think it's better for the stage than for BBC3. A nice break from Tory bookselling

Thursday

The media are all looking tired. Four conferences in a row (including the TUC conference) have taken its toll on this portly bunch. Speaking of portly, Nick Robinson is, um, bigger than I expected him to be. There is a *lot* of pastry going around at this conference.

Incidentally, this conference has *all* been about the media. There are cameras everywhere, and it's all about how it looks on TV.

Next time someone pays with a note to buy a book, I'm going to pause with the coins above their hand and ask: "Ready for change?"

A prominent Northern Ireland politician's comedy response to enquiries about his poorly leg: "I was knee-capped." Too funny.

A Question Time regular didn't need a bag for his book, although he added with relish: "It'd annoy the environmentalists if I took one." Tosser.

Official bestsellers at the bookshop: 1 Total Politics Guide To The 2010 General Election; 2 Matt 2009 (Telegraph cartoonist); 3 Wolf Hall, the Booker winner which we conveniently had a massive supply of.

David Cameron's speech, during which I had work to do (read a live tweet of his speech - scroll down here.)

People are willing to wait 90 minutes for Cameron's speech. I wondered what their expectations are, so I asked them: "Steady as she goes, don't frighten the horses." "Honesty." "Straight talking." "Fairness." "Give it to us straight."

Warm-up music: Keane and Stereophonics. It's not quite D:Ream. (I'm not in the speech hall: just next door.)

Bono?! Bono?!?!? That's outrageous.

I've just popped into the speech. Blah blah blah. Everyone looks bored. The sound has gone on the overflow broadcast and no-one seems bothered. If the cameras follow him out of the room, look out for me, he'll come my way! (He didn't walk past us. He ascended unto heaven like a fox-hunting, lying, fascist Christ.)

What the papers won't tell you: in the toilet 40 yards from Dave, there is a man plucking the grey hairs out of his moustache.

So that's it. The messages on the floor? Low taxes, old fashioned values, anti-Brown and not a lot of love for Cameron. I stay opposed to a party for the rich that gives the state over to big business. Value Thursday's G2 supplement: you'll need it come May.

Pack-down done. I have gained the most confusing poster ever (pictured), a blackboard, a book trolley and free Tesco buns. I need a mental & physical shower. Thanks for reading: the Tory tweets end here. I respectfully ask my newly acquired Tory followers to, in the nicest sense, f*ck off.

All the pictures I took can be found on my new Flickr page.

Vanilla, Pistachio, Strawberry Swirl, Caramel Chew-Chew, BLOOD

I have neglected this poor old blog recently. It's been more like Attitude magazine and less like an uninformative, lazy swagger through the mucus-infested bowels of electronic music.

Let the staggering resume.

Hey! Look! It's a three-dimensional Squarepusher! As opposed to the two-dimensional one you saw at the Warehouse Project last year! Have a look at more 3D electronica photographs on the Bleep Blog here (all courtesy of Anti-Limited).

Hey! Look! Remember Butter by Hudson Mohawke, covered by this blog last month? You can win a spreadable version of the album: a double vinyl copy of Butter with a T-shirt and sticker in a customised butter tub. Just tell competitions [at] vinylfactory.co.uk which of the following is not a well-known hairstyle:

a) Mohawk
b) Crew Cut
c) Star Crackout

What the hell's a star crackout? OH. Sorry. That's the point. Don't read this paragraph; it may ruin the competition.

Hey! Look! Fat Roland blogging chum Dave Hartley (his pets pictured above) has been shortlisted for a Manchester Blog Award!

Yeah, that last one was nothing to do with electronica, but I'm just trying to throw a mate a fricking bone. WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT? BLOOD? SMOOTH, CREAMY ELECTRONICA-FLAVOURED BLOOD? Jeesh.

The radio bungle: an update

Remember that whole radio thing? Sorry for the lack of updates over the past two weeks, but I'm not the kind of person to dwell on this kind of shennanigans.

But there is something to tell you. I've been written about by Pink News, which is Europe's largest gay news service and not a publication written by Rainbow's painfully jovial hippo George.

The worst thing about the article is you, my dear reader, get to know my real name. How shocking and unbloglike. Have a read here.

It's a fair description of things from my point of view. It's a shame Refresh FM couldn't be contacted, but I do believe they tried everything they could to get hold of them.

Incidentally, Refresh FM would disagree with the whole premise of my original article on this blog. I was not dismissed for being gay, because they have no problems with anyone's orientation: it's acting on that orientation that is the problem. That's a fairly typical evangelical argument, and I disagree with it.

I also know evangelicals who genuinely struggle with their received opinion on homosexuality and would never have made the decision Refresh did. Thank you to my evangelical friends who have had the guts to be honest with me about their struggles with this, and to everyone for your kind comments on my original blog post: this is what blogging is all about.

Edit: there is an update on this blog here. Thank you everyone for your support.

Suspended puppies: an absolutely genuine review of Warp20 Sheffield

What kind of skrunk-flapped piffoon would profess to run a blog on electronica then not bother to go to the most important electronica night in the history of the bleepiverse?

At the weekend, Warp Records celebrated its 20th anniversary with an absolute doozer of night. Warp20 Sheffield (logo pictured) featured smash-n-bassmaster Squarepusher and a hatful of classic Warp artists.

Because I couldn't go (and my diary clash really was unavoidable, like trying to walk past a pedestrian who's swallowed a house), I'm going to have to make up a fictitious review. Here goes...

Harmonic 313 came on before anyone had arrived; he was only playing to one man and an ill horse. To be honest, this took the pizzazz out of his set, and all he did was whip his keyboards with a wet towel. A disappointment all round.

Hudson Mohawke didn't begin his set because Kanye West stormed on stage and told everyone how he loved Beyonce. HudMo was later spotted crying in the corner sobbing his way through the lyrics of Single Ladies. Instead, Nightmares On Wax filled in with a unique set of tracks alternating between bland soundtrack chill-out and gabba nosebleed techno.

It is difficult to describe Squarepusher's set without using the following words:

- slap;
- krunk;
- Ogden Nash;
- visible beard growth;
- suspended puppies;
- Middle East peace process;
- Celine.

Then came Clark, who took his cue from old Top Of The Pops and performed all his song titles literally. So Totems Flare had him setting fire to things dressed as a Native American and he wore a bear suit for Ted. He went too far with that operation he did on an audience member during Empty The Bones Of You, but at least it was different.

After Andrew Weatherall's DJ set, which was mainly him shouting "does anyone remember me, I used to be important", it was time for Forgemasters.

Everyone who knows about the history of Warp Records will know about Forgemasters. They invented music back in the caves of 70,000 BC and if their music ever stops being played, the Earth will die.

So it was a delightful surprise when they closed Sheffield's Warp20 with a gushing rendition of Somewhere Over The Rainbow. Everyone simpered; it was lovely.

Shame it was spoilt by Clark who, now horrifically drunk, stumbled onto the stage as Tinman and crashed sideways into their keyboards. That really upset Hudson Mohawke, who forgot the lyrics to Independent Women. Bastard.

Orbital, Manchester 2009: please miss, can I go to the toilet?

The crowd at this weekend's Orbital gig were so up for it, it made the regulars at Sankey's Soap look like a bunch of depressed accountants.

It was a thrill to see the techno kings return to live performance, but I didn't expect the gig to be such an incredible, uplifting, spiritual experience. Then again, after the week I've had, I'd have danced to a farting donkey.

There were many highlights between the opening mid-tempo salvos from their introspective phase (In Sides) to the delirious crowd-pleasing Doctor? (which, to be honest, tested the Academy's sound system beyond its limit). Halcyon's heavenly vocals became a predictable 1980s cheese fest, while those keyboard lines in Chime and Impact (The Earth Is Burning) had everyone reaching for the roof.

Here are some fuzzy pictures where, if you look hard enough, you may be able to see the Orbital brothers' trademark double headlamps. No, everyone wasn't constantly asking to go to the toilet.

Welcome back, boys.

Refresh FM Manchester: how I was stopped from presenting because I was gay

On Monday, my six-year tenure as a voluntary radio presenter and producer with Refresh FM came to an end. It was not my decision. In this blog post, I will do my best to explain why I was dropped from presenting.

I cannot fully represent the views of Refresh FM in this piece, nor can I represent the views of my co-presenter and my producer. I can only explain things as I see them, and I'll write about other people's opinions and motives as fairly as I can.

I was not stopped from being a radio presenter because I was turning up drunk. I was not stopped from being a radio presenter because I was saying offensive things on air. I wish it was that clear cut, because Ofcom have clear guidelines on that.

I was stopped from being a radio presenter because I am homosexual.

To understand where I am now, you need to know how this all began.

Brief history

Refresh FM is an RSL, which basically means it broadcasts for 28 days a year on a limited frequency to south and central Manchester. It is run by Victoria Park Fellowship (previously known as Victoria Park Christian Fellowship), a fairly active independent evangelical church in Manchester. You can google the links. The congregation finance and volunteer their time to run the station, along with an increasing number of 'outsiders' from other churches (like me).

I have never been a member of that church, but I would identify myself as a Christian. I joined Refresh when it began in 2003. I don't think any of them knew I was gay then: we would work together fairly intensely for one month a year, and we were much more concerned about questions of broadcast quality, guest booking, programme timing and playlist compiling than questions of sexuality.

The programme I presented was Theatre Of Noise, a light-hearted magazine-style evening show which was roughly half music and half talk (scripted and unscripted funny bits - and at least, I hope it was funny!). The show was not popular with more traditional Christians because we did silly things like destroy CDs with power tools, but it certainly stood as an odd-shaped jewel in Refresh's crown and attracted listeners they wouldn't normally get. We took it seriously and my co-presenter and I worked hard to improve the programme from year to year. Believe me, planning and presenting 20 two-hour shows in one month is a lot of hard work.

Overwhelmingly positive

The fact that Refresh FM found out I was gay was almost incidental. Almost, but not quite. Although my relationship with Refresh was overwhelmingly positive for all six years (until Monday), they sensed I was slightly distant when I was in the studio. They were perceptive: I was indeed troubled. I had wanted to tell them about my sexuality, as anyone who has been "in" for any length of time will understand. It's not about waving a gay flag: it's about being honest and totally yourself. I wanted to be honest with Refresh.

So I told them of my unease that they didn't seem to know I was gay, and I realised, as an evangelical organisation, this might be a problem for them.

I didn't realise how much of a problem.

Refresh FM convened a meeting with me on Monday. I was told early on in the meeting that I couldn't present any more. (They did say I might be able to take up other responsibilities with the station, but this seemed like a hollow offer at the time.) The reasons I was given, if I remember rightly, were (in no particular order):

1) a presenter for Refresh is a mouthpiece for the mission of Victoria Park Fellowship. I accept this; it's a natural position for a church to take. Church radio stations hold a tension between being missional and being great radio. But being a "practising homosexual" is living in a state of active sin and is inconsistent with the mission of the church;

2) if a gay person presented shows, the church would find it difficult to raise money for the station from their inevitably offended congregation;

3) they don't want to upset the Muslims in the area, although this reason was not expounded upon. I'm not sure how much they actually believe this.

Devastating

I should point out that my friendship with Refresh FM was one of trust and love, and it enlightened my life considerably. I am profoundly grateful for the experience Refresh has given me. It wasn't a shock to discover they held a traditional view of homosexuality, but their recalcitrance of their stance on Monday was devastating and hurtful.

They seem to like me, but they just can't get past the "gay thing".

I do not want to get into Biblical arguments on homosexuality here; I don't want the comments below to be filled with YouTube-style diatribe. I believe God loves me because I'm gay and that She / He has no problem with gay relationships. Some Christians divide "being" and "doing" gay, and they love the sinner but hate the sin. I can understand Refresh FM taking the latter view (each to their own), but the fact they're willing to devastate someone because of those principles seems incredible - and ill at ease with the Christ I understand from the beatitudes in Matthew 5.

And yes, I am devastated. I am reeling. I am fragile, hurt and angry.

Dawkinsesque

The 'Christian' element of this blog post may put you off. You may think I was stupid for expecting Christians to like gay people. You're wrong. I would take a Dawkinsesque punt and reckon that most Christians have no problem with gay people. Jesus certainly didn't.

I understand it was a painful decision for Refresh FM to take - it's not easy giving what they probably see as 'tough love' to people they care about. But their insistence in the meeting that this isn't personal, that it isn't about me, is based on an incorrect understanding that sexuality is something to be separated from our true being. Our sexuality is woven into us. Even Jesus had a sexuality. He would have expressed that sexuality in some way - if he didn't, then the gospels are a lie and God was not truly made flesh.

And so to today. I hope the Theatre Of Noise ends up on a station 20 times the size. I did the right thing by telling Refresh FM I am homosexual. My integrity is intact and I have tried hard to act with grace. I think Refresh FM's decision cheapens them; it's a disappointment because I expected better from friends that I love. I will go back to Refresh tomorrow if they change their hearts and minds about homosexuality, but I don't think that will happen in a hurry.

What next? I don't know. I have spoken to Ofcom and also to the Citizen's Advice Bureau, and I was shocked to find out it is perfectly legal (and Ofcom-safe) for radio DJs who are voluntary, rather than paid, to be sacked because of their sexuality. I can see the logic when the law is there to protect livelihoods, not hobbies, but if what I have been told is true, this law needs changing.

Gritted teeth

You may feel the need to protest or campaign after reading this piece. You can talk with me further at dj (at) fatroland.com. Whatever you do and to whomever you speak, please show the same grace that I have tried my hardest to show throughout all of this (often through gritted teeth or teared eyes!). You will not change minds by shouting at people: start from their point of view and work from there.

I have to leave the dust to settle to some extent because my (straight) co-presenter, who has been immensely supportive in all of this, needs to make a difficult decision about his future with the station. I also need to discuss things more with our producer, who expressed his annoyance at the decision in a brief text conversation the day after the meeting. I will speak to more people, to organisations, to those that understand.

A wrong has been done and I need to stop this happening to other people.

And to Refresh FM, if you're reading this... the Bible calls us to love our enemies. I'm not sure if you're an enemy - I don't know what you are any more because I am still reeling from Monday - but I think I still love you despite your stupid, stupid decision.

Edit: there are updates on this blog here and here, and here is the Guardian's coverage and the Pink news coverage. Thank you everyone for your support.