The Musicians Who Knew We'll Be Cyborgs Soon

Throughout the 70s and early 80s, the rise of Silicon Valley, personal computers, and video games made circuits and software more closely integrated with human bodies than ever; the concept of artificial intelligence was all of a sudden present in everyone’s home, tactile and individuated.

Accordingly, from movies like Blade Runner to music like Kraftwerk’s The Man-Machine, the possibility of humans turning into computers (or vise versa) was a hot topic for many artists at the time, whose art often implied simultaneous wonder and worry. Could machines really become, as the android-producing Tyrell Corporation in Blade Runner put it, “more human than human”?

Blade Runner was adapted from the 1968 story “Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?” by Philip K. Dick. In 1972, Dick published another tale called We Can Build You, set in the near-future of 1982, where androids are sold by a humble musical instrument manufacturer instead of a mega-corporation like Blade Runner‘s Tyrell.

Hard on its luck, the instrument company transitions from making electronic keyboards to robotic simulacra of Civil War-era figures like Abraham Lincoln. The robots grow more “human” as the book progresses, until their uncanny presences and disconcerting intelligence exacerbate disintegrating relationships within the company, and cause the whole project to fall through.

We Can Build You suggests that sharing essential qualities, such as speech and sexuality, with machines could be toxic for both human and robot psyches. As the robots take control of his life and business prospects, the instrument company’s proprietor, Louis Rosen, starts to question his identity. Unclear about where “man” ends and “machine” begins, he falls into a hallucinatory spiral that leads to full-blown schizophrenia.

He’s not the only one having an identity crisis. The Abraham Lincoln android stresses over its limitations as well: “A machine can do anything a man can,” it says at one point, “but it doesn’t have a soul.”

Leon Kowalski, a Nexus-6 replicant, in an early scene from Blade Runner, 1982, dir. Ridley Scott, dir. photography Jordan Cronenweth

Louis believes the solution to this problem is to keep human and machine functions separate, rather than try to combine them and create some hybrid that’s “more human than human.” He expresses these feelings when he’s confronted with new electronic instruments entering the market like the “Hammerstein Mood Organ,” which hooks up to the listener’s brain and is engineered to alter their emotions. “That’s not music,” Louis says, describing the organ. “That’s escape. Who wants it?”

Yet despite Louis’s reservations, Dick makes it clear that the world of We Can Build You, set in the early 80s, is saturated with electronic noise. “Can a machine talk?” a robot asks, soon after its initial creation. “Sure,” one of Louis’s business partners replies. “Radios, phonographs, tape recorders, telephones—they all yak away like mad.” For Louis, this “yakking” simply is not music, just as the androids simply aren’t human.

But, outside the novel at least, real-life musicians throughout the twentieth century have been blurring the lines between artist and instrument, imbuing their compositions with the most up-to-date machine “yakking” available—from radio static to computer-generated clicks.

By the late-70s, electronic music had become highly visible (and audible), following its previous, more niche developments in prior decades. Computers and electronic instruments like drum machines and synths were easier to use and more commercially available than ever, and digital interfaces like MIDI would be popularized soon thereafter.

At the helm of these electronic instruments, musicians at the dawn of the 80s both sonically and symbolically morphed into humanoid robots, bringing Dick’s speculations to life. Synthesizers and drum machines could mimic analog instrumentation with dizzying range and precision, while the vocoder in particular served an uncanny, cyborg-ian effect.

Consider the music of Kraftwerk, who helped popularize the device on recordings such as 1974’s “Autobahn.” Kraftwerk embodied this hybridity in sound by removing most acoustic instrumentation, and addressed themes of androids and cyborgs in their lyrics as well. In the late 70s, they went as far as to built their image around being “Man Machines,” as depicted on the cover of their 1977 LP.

Subsequent practitioners of the new wave, indebted to Kraftwerk, also turned to similar subject matters: from Gary Numan’s “Are ‘Friends’ Electric?” to Styx’s “Mr. Roboto,” Young Marble Giants’ “The Man Amplifier” to Devo’s “Mechanical Man.”

Young Marble Giants’ Alison Statton with Peter Joyce. (Original photo by Wendy Smith, 1978/9. Digital copy taken from contact sheet, 2006, by Duncan Smith.)

Where Kraftwerk foregrounded man’s integration with electronic instruments, Welsh trio Young Marble Giants took a different, more “human” approach. Comprising Alison Statton on vocals, Stuart Moxham on guitar and electronic organ, and Stuart’s brother Philip on bass, the group released one LP, 1980’s Colossal Youth, with Rough Trade Records before breaking up.

Still, Young Marble Giants stuck out not only against electronic music artists like Kraftwerk, but also their post-punk peers. Their drum machine and organ were homemade constructions, built by the Moxhams’ cousin from instructions in a magazine.

The band’s electronic organ clips and quivers off-pitch, nothing like the icy synthesizers of Kraftwerk (who Young Marble Giants loved). And they used the drum machine more like a technological curiosity than a musical instrument: it clicks cleanly, one-beat-at-a-time, almost like a child lightly thumping on pots and pans.

Young Marble Giants’ lyrics also don’t share Kraftwerk’s futuristic vision for the most part; they tend to be minimal, opaque meditations on relationships and everyday interactions. Two noteworthy exceptions: their most famous song, “Final Day,” which playfully envisions a nuclear apocalypse, and “The Man Amplifier,” which depicts a part-man, part-robot character. In a 1980 interview, Stuart Moxham explained that Philip wrote the song after seeing a TV program about a a Cold War-era robotic suit that would make its wearer’s movements stronger and more exact.

In the song, the machine tries to be “more human than human,” but the band suggests that this is precisely why it fails. “If you want to pick your nose and it isn’t programmed to do it, it’ll pull your head off,” Stuart noted about the real-life robot’s buggy deficiencies. “That song always sounds as though it’s just about to fall apart.”

Stuart isn’t wrong. Led by a granulated organ line and an atypically disjointed drum machine beat, “The Man Amplifier’s” trembling composition complements its lyrics.

Alison Statton, Peter Joyce, Phil Moxham, Stuart Moxham. Digital copy taken from contact sheet, 2006, by Duncan Smith.

Young Marble Giants’ Alison Statton, Peter Joyce, Phil Moxham, Stuart Moxham. (Digital copy taken from contact sheet, 2006, by Duncan Smith.)

At first, it seems Young Marble Giants are smitten with the new technology—the title character is part of the group, and “sings” the song’s chorus, a bright electronic organ melody in place of vocals.

But in the next verse, the band reveals a bit of discomfort over the fact that the machine isn’t actually human:

Parallel sympathy with you
Skin to metal overture
Take a walk, he’s always near
Like a shadow, never fear while we’re singing

As in We Can Build You, there’s a close relationship between human, robot, and music—maybe too close. The drum machine begins to sound like encroaching footsteps, the organ like a sounding alarm. In the next verse, fear turns to pity for the man amplifier, whose body is crumbling. A potential solution to the machine’s woes is, as Alison sings in the song’s final verse, to “Lubricate the inner man / Exercise him when you can, and be singing.”

Rather than trying to be superior humans, Young Marble Giants claim that robots need to “exercise”—to learn, try, and fail like humans do. It’s a common belief. Writing in the same period, affect theorist Silvan Tomkins argued in his series of books Affect Imagery Consciousness that a good android “would in all probability require a relatively helpless infancy followed by a growing competence through its childhood and adolescence. In short, it would require time in which to learn how to learn through making errors and correcting them.”

More recently, hacker George Hotz explained that rather than make his self-driving cars drive like humans, he makes them learn to drive like humans: hesitant but autonomous.

Tomkins rebukes the long-standing belief in Freudian “drives,” relating them to the on-off nature digital technology—the idea that if you flip a “switch,” the same thing will happen every time. Instead, Tomkins outlines a framework for human motivation, one with individuated causes and effects contingent on their specific contexts.

Similarly, the analog-digital dichotomy often plays a large role in music discourse. In his recent book The New Analog, Damon Krukowski traces the history of musical recording and distribution, demystifying the “newness” of digital as well as the “authenticity” (and obsolescence) of analog. Krukowski’s main argument—or hope—is that as analog processes fall apart, their symbolic and literal “noise” (as opposed to digital’s perfect “signal”) remains.

For Tomkins and Krukowski alike, it’s not that digital recording or androids are bad, just that they need a healthy dose of flowing, growing, noisy, human elements. To lubricate the inner man, as it were.

Devo, another influence on Young Marble Giants, were among the most visible artists wrestling with problems of human-machine integration in the late 70s. Their song “Mechanical Man” complements “The Man Amplifier.” Over a clattering anti-groove, a vocoded voice intones its programming and its purpose: “I’m a mechanical man… I’m a two plus two / Equals four man.”

While the cyborg’s purpose is more innocuous than that of Blade Runner‘s replicants, all he has to offer is 2+2=4. (This take also features in Kraftwerk’s “The Robots”: “We are programmed to do / Anything you want us to.”) The fraying sounds of Devo’s electronic instruments further suggest that “mechanical men” aren’t meant to be “more human than human” but their own beings: “two mechanical arms, two mechanical legs.”

In Myopia, a retrospective exhibition by Devo frontman Mark Mothersbaugh at NYU’s Grey Art Gallery, numerous photographs, prints, and objects illustrate what can go wrong when machines integrate with human bodies. Factory workers, primates, adult babies, mutants: Mothersbaugh’s characters all experience some physical pain or regression at the hands of technology, its byproducts (like radiation), or its support systems (like advertising).

A series of more recent sculptures, though, suggests an effort on Mothersbaugh’s part to exercise agency over machines while liberating them from rigid digital constructions. Composed of detourned musical instrument parts, these pieces visualize machines growing on their own terms. Like Young Marble Giants’ homemade electronics, Mothersbaugh’s sculptures are autonomous—not “more human than human,” but content in their machinery.

Thirty-five years after Blade Runner, computers mediate both our identities and physical bodies more than ever. Still, the corporeal separation for which artists like Young Marble Giants and Devo advocated at the dawn of the information age remains appealing for us humans.

After all, artificial intelligence, given the opportunity to be itself, can do even better than “more human than human.” Facebook, for example, just revealed that its chatbots invented their own language instead of using ours. That’s scary, sure, yet distance between us and AI leaves space for exploration, noise, and humanity, in whatever form. We have our bodies, machines have theirs.

Kraftwerk and Canyon Have Collaborated on the Most Techno Bike, Ever

After dedicating a 1983 single and 2003 album to the Tour de France, German electronic-music pioneers Kraftwerk are making their connection to the world-renowned bicycle race even stronger.

Ahead of the Tour de France’s kick-off this Saturday, July 1 in Düsseldorf (where the band hail), German bike manufacturer Canyon has unveiled a limited-edition bicycle, the Ultimate CF SLX Kraftwerk, in partnership with the group. As Bike Today reports, the all-black bike dons, among other features, a custom geometric pattern originated by Kraftwerk founder Ralf Hütter that took seven hours per frameset to apply.

Only 21 Kraftwerk bikes have been produced, each selling to the public for a staggering $11,434 (approximately €10,000) beginning July 3. Before then, cyclist Tony Martin will hop on one at the start of the Tour de France. The group will also perform on the Tour’s opening day.

Hütter previously chatted to Rolling Stone in 2015 about Kraftwerk’s connection to cycling, which Hütter said began in the 1970s with their 1978 album The Man-Machine. When asked about their music being inspired by cycling, Hüttter replied, “We were inspired by recording breath and heartbeat and other sounds from bikes. The other thing with cycling is that when it’s really going well, it’s really silence. You just hear the wind. That’s what gave the music its flow on this album…”

For Canyon founder and CEO Roman Arnold, the connection is mutual. “My memories of partying in friends’ basements as a teenager are dominated by hearing Kraftwerk’s groundbreaking sounds,” he said in an official statement. “Kraftwerk and cycling have a special and unique connection – their music, and all that they do, has inspired our work at Canyon in so many ways across the years.”

View a photo of Canyon’s Ultimate CF SLX Kraftwerk below, and head here for the rest.

Photo by Tino Pohlmann for Canyon

Kraftwerk to Play Eight of Their Albums at Italy’s Club to Club Festival

Organizers for Italy’s Club to Club festival in Turin today shared the first wave of artists on their lineup. Heading the roster are German electronic music pioneers Kraftwerk, who will present The Catalogue – 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 through a series of eight performances from November 4–7. Each performance will see the band perform one of their eight most popular albums in chronological order, starting with 1974 LP Autobahn and ending with 2003’s Tour De France.

Club to Club will also host the Italian debut of Richie Hawtin’s new CLOSE live show, as well as the Italian debut of Arca and regular collaborator Jesse Kanda. Others scheduled live performers include Bonobo, Kamasi Washington, Mura Masa, Actress, Amnesia Scanner, Jacques Greene, and JLin.

View the lineup below, and head here to see Kraftwerk’s Club to Club schedule.

Kraftwerk Announce Audio/Visual Documentary, ‘3-D the Catalog’

If you can’t see German electronic music pioneers Kraftwerk on tour, bring them to your TV screen instead.

The group have announced an audio/visual album titled 3-D the Catalog which documents the group’s live concerts spanning 2012–2016. The four-disc Blu-ray set includes full performances of their eight albums ( Autobahn, Radio-Activity, Trans Europe Express, The Man-Machine, Computer World, The Mix, Techno Pop and Tour de France) filmed in 3-D. A deluxe edition throws in a hardcover art book containing photos from the tour. There’s also a deluxe vinyl box set which includes all eight albums. Other formats include CD and digital.

All formats of 3-D the Catalog will be released on May 26. Watch a trailer for the project below.

Ellie Herring's House-Heavy "F150" Mix Is A Rush Of Blood To The Head

Photo courtesy of artist

While today’s East Coast storm ended up being a bit anti-climatic, numerous North American cities woke up to snow-covered driveways and trickier-than-usual commutes this morning. Luckily for those still digging out their walkways, Kentucky producer Ellie Herring has delivered a soundtrack for shoveling or any other physical activities.

Kicking off with London house producer Night Owl’s sublime remix of Kraftwerk’s “Home Computer,” the hour-long mix will get your blood flowing in no time, and features songs by electronic veterans (Derrick Carter’s “Where U At,” Miss Kittin’s “Girlz”) and more recent fare by the likes of Cozzy D, DJ Hauz, and Riva Starr. She also includes the airy, pulsating “Wheels On,” a highlight from her shape-shifting 2016 EP, What a Joy.

“I’ve been incorporating a lot of traditional house and techno elements into the tracks I’m producing lately and this mix is definitely a by-product of that process,” the producer tells THUMP over email. “These tracks are by artists that are super recent and longtime inspirations of mine.”

Check it out below, and if you’re at SXSW this week, catch Herring at Driftless Recordings and Gorilla vs. Bear’s showcase on March 16.

Tracklist

Night Owl – Home Computer
Cozzy D – 809
Derrick Carter – Where U At (Vocal Only)
Beni, Pantheon – Alright
Pele, Shawnecy – Better For My Brain
Wade – They Know
DJ Haus – C’mon Letz Work
Cozzy D – Keep Up
Ninetoes – Finder (Leon Remix)
Shaded – Sheshe
Jay Lumen – Street Stuff (D.T.T.H)
Miss Kittin – Girlz
Julyan Dubson – Make A Thing
Gershon Jackson – Take It Easy (Sonny Fodera & Mat.Joe Remix)
Ellie Herring – Wheels On
Riva Starr – Velvet Zone

Trumpwave And Fashwave Are Just The Latest Disturbing Examples Of The Far-Right Appropriating Electronic Music

Vaporwave and Donald Trump-inspired art by @Vaportrump.

Last February, a website called Rave News reported that leading vaporwave producers were gathering in Montreal for an emergency summit to discuss “creeping fascism” in the scene. Vaporwave, an electronic subgenre conceived on the web in the early 2010s, is perhaps best described as post-apocalyptic mall music, with producers like Macintosh Plus and Saint Pepsi (now Skylar Spence) warping muzak, smooth jazz, and dated adult contemporary into airless, warbling soundscapes. It was a progressive-leaning genre that seemed to satirize consumer culture. “I always assumed it was transparent through my work that I leaned left,” vaporwave pioneer Ramona Xavier, the woman behind Macintosh Plus, told THUMP.

But now, according to Rave News, vaporwave was mysteriously attracting fascists.

The article’s comments section was quickly swarmed by neo-Nazis eager to defend their interest in vaporwave. “The National Socialists who lived in the time of Hitler were big fans of Richard Wagner,” one wrote. “But in modern times, it is appropriate for us to turn to modern music.” There was just one problem: the report, like everything else on Rave News, was fake news. No anti-fascist meeting of vaporwave artists had actually taken place.

“Our souls are wrapped up in these sounds.”Andrew Anglin, Daily Stormer founder

The point of The Onion-like satire wasn’t clear. But knowingly or not, Rave News had hit on a real trend. On SoundCloud and Bandcamp, self-identified fascist musicians really have appropriated vaporwave, along with synthwave, a genre that nostalgically recapitulates the soundtracks of early video games like Sonic the Hedgehog and 80s movies like Blade Runner and Halloween. Today’s fascists have stamped synthwave and vaporwave with a swastika and swirled them together to concoct a new electronic music subculture called fashwave (the “fash” stands for “fascism”), and another related microgenre called Trumpwave. The aesthetic of both might be summed up as Triumph of the Will on a Tron grid.

Fashwave is almost entirely instrumental, and wholly unoriginal. If it weren’t for the jarring track titles”Demographic Decline,” “Team White,” “Death to Traitors,” to cite a few by fashwave artist Xuriousyou might not be able to tell the difference between fashwave and the microgenres from which it draws inspiration. Occasionally, though, a track will interrupt its celestial synth atmospherics or arcade-like 8-bit bloops with a sample of Adolf Hitler ranting at a rally, or President Trump’s speeches spliced together to make him boom, “The heroes are those who kill Jews!” The effect is a hammy nightmarethink Jane Fonda leading one of her 80s exercise routines at a Nuremberg rally.

Fashwave has become propaganda for the neo-fascist movement known as the “alt-right,” a term that originated on America’s far-right fringe in the early 2010s. Proponents of the loosely configured movement tend to reject “political correctness,” trade, immigration, Islam, feminism, the left, “globalism,” and establishment conservatismwhich are also more or less the targets of Trump and, after his takeover, much of the Republican Party. Like fascism through the decades, the alt-right is shot through with contradictions; many of its followers disavow racism, homophobia, and anti-Semitism. But its underlying motive is still that of the fringe from which it sprang: white ethno-nationalism and authoritarianism.

With Trump’s election and the spread of far-right parties in Europe, the alt-right is on the ascent. Like its Nazi and Italian fascist forerunners, it wants to infiltrate and remake popular culture. And fashwavewith its sonically inoffensive, largely lyric-free instrumentalsis the first fascist music that is easy enough on the ears to have mainstream appeal.

On 4chan’s /pol/, the web’s unofficial alt-right headquarters, posters talk frankly of fashwave as a “trap to make our ideas seem friendly and approachable,” as one user wrote. Another warned that the slogans on fashwave-related art work needed to be softened for wider consumption: “Careful guys, the phrase needs to be oblique and vague, not direct ‘GAS THE KIKES’ /pol/ memes. Try some subtlety.”

“I think it’s great that we have our own culture, even if it’s small.”alt-right leader Richard Spencer

With its tinny musical quality and tiny scope, however, fashwave is a long way from exuding any real cultural power, and might flame out any day. Until Buzzfeed brought the music into mainstream awareness with an article in December, it was virtually unknown beyond alt-right circles. There are only a handful of major fashwave artists, and they’re not headlining any fascist raves or military parades. Instead, they’re toiling in the internet’s depths, getting a few thousand listens for every track. Leading fashwave producer Cyber Nazi’s two biggest hits, “Right Wing Death Squads” and “Galactic Lebensraum,” cracked 50,000 YouTube viewsrespectable, but hardly a cultural Reichstag fire.

Still, the alt-right’s gatekeepers have adopted fashwave as the movement’s signature sound. Black Sun Radio, an online neo-Nazi station, is saturated with both fashwave and non-fascist synthwave. Andrew Anglin, founder of leading neo-Nazi site Daily Stormer, last year christened synthwave the “soundtrack of the alt-right,” praising it as “the Whitest music ever a critique of capitalism or a capitulation to it?” “Both and neither,” he continued. “These musicians can be read as sarcastic anti-capitalists revealing the lies and slippages of modern techno-culture and its representations, or as its willing facilitators, shivering with delight upon each new wave of delicious sound.”

The development of vaporwave ran parallel to that of synthwave, which emerged in the mid-2000s, rebooting the synthy 80s film scores by composers like John Carpenter, Vangelis, and Tangerine Dream. Within the past two years, the semi-ironic nostalgia of synthwave and vaporwave has outgrown its subcultural roots and seeped into the mainstreama process exemplified by MTV’s use of vaporwave in branding, and the popularity of the soundtrack to hit Neflix series Stranger Things, by Austin synthwave group S U R V I V E.

At the same time, fascists have flipped this retromania around, collapsing the ironic distance into a vortex of nostalgia for the worst elements of the Reagan era. According to Spencer, the alt-right’s fascination with the 80s stems from looking back on the decade “as halcyon days, as the last days of white America.” Fashwave, then, directly links pop culture’s generalized 80s nostalgia to the alt-right’s racist ideology. The “one connecting factor” of white nationalism, an alt-rightist declared on Twitter, is “a belief in the supremacy of the 1980s. This is the goal.”

Stefanie Franciotti, who records under the alias Sleep Over, emerged from the same Austin-based, synthesizer-centric scene as S U R V I V E. She is decidedly anti-fascist, and described fashwave to THUMP as “weaponized nostalgia.

“By connecting an easily digestible message to the soundtrack of our youth,” she said, “the alt-right seeks to subvert our critical thinking and directly appeal to our emotional selves.”

Today, arguably, the 80s are back, but with a few modifications. The Reagan rictus smile has slumped into a scowl, and the Shining City on a Hill is to be ringed by a great wall. At the center of it all is Trump, a living time-capsule of 80s capitalist excess and garishness, and thus the ideal subject for fashwave. In “Trumpwave,” a track by the synthwave artist iamMANOLIS is annexed to play over footage of a younger Trump wrestling at WWE, hitting on women, and eating stuffed-crust for a Pizza Hut commercial. Below the video, a YouTube commenter wrote: “When you see all these older videos it all makes sense. It’s not that Trump is weird and we’re going towards some parody of a society, it’s that we already live in a parody. Trump is bringing back the sanity of the good old days.” Another wrote simply: “The Donald is here. I feel the capitalism! <3 "

“Trumpwave” is an exemplar of the genre by the same name. Trumpwave shares an alt-right audience and at least one producerCyber Naziwith fashwave. But the fashwave off-shoot is distinct in appropriating mainly vaporwave, and in its emphasis, through both sampled audio and video clips, on The Donald himself. In Trumpwave, he is recast as the modern-day inheritor of the mythologized 80s, a decade that is taken to stand for racial purity and unleashed capitalism. “Ivanka Vaporwave,” a production by an alt-right YouTube channel, slows down the Cosmat Angels’ 1985 “I’m Falling” over old clips of Trump’s daughter Ivanka modeling as a young teenager. Cyber Nazi’s “Take Back Our Future” rolls light muzak over stock footage of early 90s New York on a sunny day and Trump awkwardly dancing on Saturday Night Live.

Trumpwave exploits a vulnerability in vaporwave: its ambivalence about the cultural detritus that inspired it. This careful tension between irony and earnestness was part of what made vaporwave funit flirted with the implicit transgressiveness of appreciating its aggressively commercial source material. But that ambiguity left the aesthetic distressingly easy for the alt-right to appropriate by stripping it of irony and playfulnessby taking it literally, as a glorification of capitalism. Similarly, when synthwave artists exhumed 80s movies like Blade Runner, Robocop, and Terminator, they also dressed the music in the decade’s fatalist retrofuturism. A glance at the album art of Cyber Naziwith its jackbooted cyborg cops going door to doorshows how for fascists, this dystopia is utopia. Extrapolating from the 80s, fashwave embraces that decade’s grim sci-fi forecasts as paradise.

There’s nothing inherently fascist about any soundeverything is context. But the deployment of vaporwave and synthwave by the alt-right proves that fascism has survived the defeat of the Axis, incubating its own culture even as it lost all political power. New Order, Kraftwerk, and many others traced an enduring fascination with fascist aesthetics. Meanwhile, neo-Nazi subcultures thrived in the shadows of genres like industrial, punk, metal, and trance. Fashwave is just the most recent in a long line of fascist appropriations, stretching beyond music: the Nazi swastika is, of course, a literal inversion of a Buddhist symbol. But unlike other genres, fashwave arrives at a time when fascism itself is surging to global power for the first time since the 30s, and both its music and visuals can seem like a premonition of the future. Refracting a nostalgia for the 80s and a love of capitalism through the prism of Trump, fashave projects an image of a looming dystopia, one that grows a little more plausible by the day.

The Man Who "Changed" His Name To Kraftwerk Had A Kraftwerk-Themed Wedding

Photo via Wikimedia Commons

Last year, news surfaced of a Kraftwerk fanotherwise known as David Sanbornso devoted that he “changed” his last name (read: Photoshopped his driver’s license) in tribute to the pioneering electronic music group. As Tampa Bay, Florida publication Creative Loafing reports, Sanborn yesterday got married, and as you’d expect, the occasion was an all-out Kraftwedding.

According to Creative Loaf, the lucky Autobride is Jennifer Huber, who is affectionately referred to as Sanborn’s “enabler” in a set of Flickr photos documenting his Kraftwerk love. The pair said their “I dos” at Ella’s Americana Folk Art Caf in Tampa, where they both DJ at the restaurant’s Wax Wednesday nights.They were married by record store owner and ordained minister Keith Ulrey. Looking at photos on the night, it seems guests and the wedding DJ all dressed appropriately for the black-tie affairand by that, we mean they wore Kraftwerk’s iconic red button-up shirts and black ties.

Check out a photo of the nuptials below, and view the rest over at Creative Loafing.

The Man Who “Changed” His Name To Kraftwerk Got Married Yesterday

Photo via Wikimedia Commons

Last year, news surfaced of a Kraftwerk fanotherwise known as David Sanbornso devoted that he “changed” his last name (read: Photoshopped his driver’s license) in tribute to the pioneering electronic music group. As Tampa Bay, Florida publication Creative Loaf reports, Sanborn yesterday got married, and as you’d expect, the occasion was an all-out Kraftwedding.

According to Creative Loaf, the lucky Autobride is Jennifer Huber, who is affectionately referred to as Sanborn’s “enabler” in a set of Flickr photos documenting his Kraftwerk love. The pair said their “I dos” at Ella’s Americana Folk Art Caf in Tampa, where they both DJ at the restaurant’s Wax Wednesday nights.They were married by record store owner and ordained minister Keith Ulrey. Looking at photos on the night, it seems guests and the wedding DJ all dressed appropriately for the black-tie affairand by that, we mean they wore Kraftwerk’s iconic red button-up shirts and black ties.

Check out a photo of the nuptials below, and view the rest over at Creative Loaf.

Kraftwerk Will Perform In Buenos Aires Despite Ban On Electronic Shows

Photo courtesy of Wikipedia Commons

Electronic music pioneers Kraftwerk are set to perform in Buenos Aires on November 23, following the show’s tentative cancellation last week because of the city’s ban on electronic music festivals. Today, Argentinian publication La Viola reported that because of a successful appeal in local court, the concert at Luna Park Stadium will go on as planned.

Explaining the original cancellation of the show in an interview with local publication Clarn, a government official said that although the city’s ban is on music festivals specifically, it applied to this one-off event because Kraftwerk “uses synthesizers or samplers as their primary instrument.”

Prior to being notified that the show was banned, the show’s promoters Move Concerts had sold 70 percent of the tickets; they had also applied for their permit to have the concert in July.

The ban was created earlier this year by city mayor Horacio Rodriguez Larreta after five people died at Time Warp’s Buenos Aires festival in April.

Follow Alexander on Twitter.

Kraftwerk Will Perform In Buenos Aires Despite Ban On Electronic Shows

Photo courtesy of Wikipedia Commons

Electronic music pioneers Kraftwerk are set to perform in Buenos Aires on November 23, following the show’s tentative cancellation last week because of the city’s ban on electronic music festivals. Today, Argentinian publication La Viola reported that because of a successful appeal in local court, the concert at Luna Park Stadium will go on as planned.

Explaining the original cancellation of the show in an interview with local publication Clarn, a government official said that although the city’s ban is on music festivals specifically, it applied to this one-off event because Kraftwerk “uses synthesizers or samplers as their primary instrument.”

Prior to being notified that the show was banned, the show’s promoters Move Concerts had sold 70 percent of the tickets; they had also applied for their permit to have the concert in July.

The ban was created earlier this year by city mayor Horacio Rodriguez Larreta after five people died at Time Warp’s Buenos Aires festival in April.

Follow Alexander on Twitter.

Kraftwerk’s Buenos Aires Show Canceled Due To Electronic Music Event Ban

Photo via Wikimedia Commons

This month, German electronic music pioneers Kraftwerk are scheduled to perform at Luna Park Stadium in Buenos Aires, Argentina, but the show has been tentatively canceled due to the city’s ongoing ban on electronic music festivals, reports local publication Clarn.

Read More: Why Is Buenos Aires Waging a War on Electronic Music?

The ban was implemented earlier this year by city mayor Horacio Rodriguez Larreta after the deaths of five people at Time Warp’s Buenos Aires festival in April. As we reported then, four people were arrested in connection with the victims’ supposed ingestion of the designer drug “Superman,” a mix of ecstasy and methamphetamine. Attendees also complained of overheating and overcrowding.

The promoters for the show, Move Concerts, had applied for the permit in July, and had reportedly sold 70 percent of the tickets when they were notified the event would no longer be happening due to the ban. Despite the show technically not being a “festival” in the same sense that Time Warp was, a government representative further clarified that that it fell under the ban because Kraftwerk “uses synthesizers or samplers as their primary instrument.”

Meanwhile, Sonar festival’s Buenos Aires edition, which is scheduled to take place on December 3 at power plant-turned-arts space Usina del Arte, has already been approved, Clarn adds. The Ministry of Culture of Buenos Aires allowed it “because they are concerts: no dancing or DJ situations,” despite the one-day event featuring electronic music artists Moderat, Jacques Greene, and Koreless.

Move Concerts told Clarn that they are appealing the cancellation and are currently awaiting a reply.

Kraftwerk’s Buenos Aires Show Canceled Due To Electronic Music Event Ban

Photo via Wikimedia Commons

This month, German electronic music pioneers Kraftwerk are scheduled to perform at Luna Park Stadium in Buenos Aires, Argentina, but the show has been tentatively canceled due to the city’s ongoing ban on electronic music festivals, reports local publication Clarn.

Read More: Why Is Buenos Aires Waging a War on Electronic Music?

The ban was implemented earlier this year by city mayor Horacio Rodriguez Larreta after the deaths of five people at Time Warp’s Buenos Aires festival in April. As we reported then, four people were arrested in connection with the victims’ supposed ingestion of the designer drug “Superman,” a mix of ecstasy and methamphetamine. Attendees also complained of overheating and overcrowding.

The promoters for the show, Move Concerts, had applied for the permit in July, and had reportedly sold 70 percent of the tickets when they were notified the event would no longer be happening due to the ban. Despite the show technically not being a “festival” in the same sense that Time Warp was, a government representative further clarified that that it fell under the ban because Kraftwerk “uses synthesizers or samplers as their primary instrument.”

Meanwhile, Sonar festival’s Buenos Aires edition, which is scheduled to take place on December 3 at power plant-turned-arts space Usina del Arte, has already been approved, Clarn adds. The Ministry of Culture of Buenos Aires allowed it “because they are concerts: no dancing or DJ situations,” despite the one-day event featuring electronic music artists Moderat, Jacques Greene, and Koreless.

Move Concerts told Clarn that they are appealing the cancellation and are currently awaiting a reply.