Blinded by the Lights? Why making the big time could ruin electronic music

In the span of half a decade, electronic music has moved out of your friend’s smoky basement and found a home in the mainstream. Artists like Skrillex, Deadmau5, Flux Pavilion, Swedish House Mafia and Tiësto have made a neon splash in the pop music world — headlining music festivals, selling out nation wide tours, cracking the iTunes top 10 and even nabbing a handful of Grammy nominations.

Festivals such as Ibiza, Electric Zoo and Ultra consistently draw thousands of rowdy, rolling spectators with their laser light shows, floor-to-ceiling amplification, and tireless sets.

This past December, Swedish House Mafia, whose poppy electro-dance songs are club favorites, stormed into NYC with a sold out show at the iconic Madison Square Garden. Meanwhile, “brostep” artists Skrillex and Deadmau5 were both given 2012 Grammy nods, with Skrillex winning three trophies. And even though he didn’t grab the best new artist title, the nomination alone was an impressive achievement, considering it was the first time an electronic artist had even been considered in the category. Even Justin Bieber seems to have caught the bug: When Rolling Stone asked about his upcoming album, Bieber was quoted saying, “What’s big right now are beats that are in clubs, like dubstep. So I want to mess with that stuff.”

Yes, I was as shocked as you were after reading this, but before you hang your head in despair over this disturbing Bieber blurb, remember: you did this. Yes, you, the guy with the sequined jumpsuit, stunner shades, glowing pacifier and gloves tipped with LEDs, dousing yourself in black light paint. If it weren’t for you, electronic music wouldn’t be exploding faster than you can say “MDMA,” and the likes of J. Biebz wouldn’t be diluting a genre worthy of its much-deserved and long-awaited recognition.

But before I place too much blame on the hardcore ravers out there, let me just say that I commend your often-excessive enthusiasm — seriously. Your drug-induced obsession with Bassnectar and Pretty Lights has brought some much-needed attention to the DJ booth. Rhythmic fist pumping and persistent head nodding have made relevant an often scoffed-at skill, and expert DJs like Skream, Benga and Excision are finally getting the respect and recognition they deserve.

This extra attention has shown people that being a DJ doesn’t just consist of pushing buttons and turning knobs — it takes an intimate knowledge of software and equipment and a keen ear to coherently splice and chop popular beats with original electronic creations without compromising the high level of energy one is expected to maintain. But this means electronic music and its many subgenres — house, techno, dubstep, ambient, trance, 8-bit – are entering the convoluted world that is “popular music,” and listeners should get used to seeing mainstream megastars dabble with wobbling sub-bass, a two-step feel, electronic drums and screeching build ups and drops.

As electronica gains momentum, it will inevitably fall into the patterns of modern pop culture — a pattern where writers, composers and producers quickly deduce a formula they can use to create stylistically similar, though musically inferior, songs, generating stars as quickly as they generates imitators. Hip-hop fans in the early to mid-1990s experienced such a phenomena as they were graced with talent such as Nas, Jay-Z and A Tribe Called Quest, but shortly after were confronted by artists like Vanilla Ice, LFO and Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch. Of course there are, as always, exceptions, but in the electronic scene it’s becoming increasingly harder to find true masters of the mixer, especially when every club plays watered-down electro-dance beats spun by amateurs whose drive to DJ comes second to picking up inebriated college girls.

Ok, you in the green mesh bra and candy g-string, I know you’re angry, but before you choke on your tongue stud let me explain myself. The whole culture surrounding raves and electronic festivals has overshadowed the music itself.  I often hear, “I wanna rave,” or, “Let’s go to a dubstep show,” but who is actually DJing or what type of set it’s going to be is an after thought. People are more concerned with scoring molly, doing lines of Adderall in the bathroom, dressing like a gay astronaut, and getting up in someone’s sweaty, gyrating business than actually listening to the music.  Although there are admittedly quite a handful of people who thoroughly enjoy witnessing a DJ display his expertise of the mixer, most people are there for the comprehensive sensory experience these shows afford and couldn’t care less if it’s merely a MacBook pumping out beat after beat, or a talented DJ whose focus never once diverts from the mixer as they spontaneously create a continuous wall of music.

So if you truly care about this aspiring genre and don’t want to look back with shame one day at your former technicolor self, I’d suggest toning down the face paint and glitter, looking into your favorite artist’s entire discography, and tracking down a specialist for your addiction to stimulants — seriously, you have a problem. But above all, really pay attention to what the DJ is doing — watch their hands as they maneuver a dizzying array of electronics, listen for the subtle changes in volume and tone, marvel as they instinctively combine two (or three) of your favorite beats into one extended work of art and know that you are at the mercy of their mastery. And for the readers who still can’t get past the fact that I didn’t mention your favorite DJ(s), here you go: David Guetta, Zeds Dead, Datsik, Daft Punk, DJ Shadow, Feed Me, Gemini, Afrojack, Infected Mushroom, Steve Aoki, The Others, Big Gigantic, Liquid Stranger, Kaskade, Knife Party, Calvin Harris, Borgore, Modestep, Nero, Rusko, Doctor P, Dillon Francis, Caspa, Porter Robinson, Calvin Harris, Mt Eden, DJ Fresh, Diplo, Glitch Mob… Let me know when to stop.