“Atlas” – Battles
(Words/music: Battles, available on Mirrored, Warp Records 2007)

If this is your first time hearing “Atlas,” you’ll likely find it a little strange.  For those of you who have heard it before, you’ll probably find it strange that I like it given the other entries in this blog.  Believe me, I was surprised too – “Atlas” runs over seven minutes and repeats the same few musical ideas, including two different high pitched vocal sections (which, for the sake of this blog, I will assume has actual words), over this time.  On paper it sounds (to me) abhorrent, yet I’m strangely charmed into liking it.  Even though it’s loud and direct, it has a way of blending into the background when I listen; I know it’s there, yet it seems to mesh well with whatever else I’m doing, in particular when I’m driving.  It’s blatant yet not intruding into everything else, and thus it’s the kind of song I always let play out, even if it takes seven minutes.

I think “Atlas” also piques my interest because it presents a different spin on the “man versus technology” thread in music.  Some bands look at technology as an alienating factor, something that makes us seem less than human, and there are some great songs and albums (OK Computer, for one) borne out of this tension.  Others, such as electronic musicians, use technology to create otherworldly music or, in the case of something like trance, perform tasks (such as precisely and infinitely keeping a fast beat) that humans can’t accomplish.  Still, both of these views see technology, for better or worse, as outsourcing some sort of humanity to machines.  “Atlas” provides one example of human and machine coming together to create something unique.  The distorted vocals and electronic effects are necessities to the song – without these vocals (however grating you may find them) “Atlas” becomes a plodding instrumental or a sort of rhythmic exercise.  However, a primal energy runs through the song, and no matter what electronic flourishes surround it, it’s this relentless beat that makes me pound along on my desk or steering wheel that draws me back into the song.  Even if the song executes all of the notes with the precision of a computer processing commands, this deliberate pulse tugs at the part of us that craves rhythm.  Even at this slow tempo, it activates that part of my brain that wants to follow along, and while machines can set the beat for us, it takes this human element to translate it into something we can feel.  I’m not sure how a track so precise still has a groove to it, but I’ll trust my instincts on this one.

More on Battles: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm