The Raw And The Cooked

Ever since I was just a lad I've had a preference for music delivered live, even if that just means a live recording, as opposed to the visceral excitement of really being there. And now I'm considerably older that preference seems to be even more definite, to the point that I find some over-produced recordings almost impossible to listen to. And this is especially the case when there's been a drum machine involved.

But I'm also aware of the need to at least try to be more accepting, especially when the use of synthesiser-style technology is central to a genre and rejection of the production values would entail complete non-participation, in listening terms, in music that must have some value.

This conflict surfaced for me earlier this evening when I gave a spin to one of the most disappointing CDs I've ever purchased. In fact, it was Noi's idea to buy the CD a few years ago when we were in Piccadilly Records in Manchester, and I was nothing loath, as they say. Entitled Rai Rebels it's a compilation of various 'all-time' classics from the world of Algerian rai, with Cheb Khalid featured amongst other luminaries. I really thought we were on to something great, expecting rough and ready recordings reflecting rough and ready rebel music.

And the voices certainly deliver. But the production is just so darn clean. For every track featured the producer, a highly talented guy called Rachid Ahmed, provides the music quite separate from the vocal track. Obviously a gifted multi-instrumentalist, as far as I can make out he plays everything you hear. And the effect is generally sort of mechanical. Not a real band in sight.

Now in the context from which these recordings emerged such clarity and high production values must have been refreshing when the alternative was muddy, messy, poorly mixed one-take attempts at songs going onto cheap cassettes. And it was with that understanding that I listened again to the CD today. And given the fact that, with the Missus not around at that point, I was able to indulge in a reasonable level of volume, suddenly what I was listening to didn't sound quite so sterile.

But still I found myself longing to have been in one of those off-colour clubs where Khalid first performed live just hearing him let rip in front of real noise.