Prophets are often misunderstood in their time because their message is difficult or impossible to interpret. Their listeners lack the full story, all the information needed to contextualize the message and understand its implications. It’s only after the fact that the prophecy starts to make sense.
I don’t want to be delusional here, but it wouldn’t be much of a stretch to call Ikonika a prophet in the dubstep world. For one thing, she’s already signed to Hyperdub, which has been at the cutting edge of dubstep for the past five years. But as for Ikonika’s music itself, the following analogy will suffice: Hyperdub is to other dubstep labels as Ikonika is to other atists signed to Hyperdub. This is not hyperbole. Sure, Hyperdub has visionaries like Quarta 330, Burial, and Kode 9 himself, but no one (maybe with the exception of Darkstar) has been as restlessly inventive as Ikonika. I mean, “Please?” Please. That track is only two years old, yet it still sounds decades ahead of its time, rearranging the brain with every new listen and forcing it to play byIkonika’s rules. Most of her tracks work this way – there are some identifiable points of reference, sure, but the ease with which Ikonika blazes new trails between established strains of dubstep and into unknown territory is unnerving and disarming.
On the surface of Contact, Love, Want, Have (CLWH), things might appear as par for the course of a Hyperdub record – obligatory “video game-sounding” pads, shades of funky, off-kilter pacing – but the closer you listen, more and more aspects of the music seem out of place. Something is off about those quivering synth washes on “Fish.” The beat in “Idiot” sounds stilted, with its lack of shuffle and awkward timing. “Millie” is just a mess, and doesn’t know how to unite its disparate parts. There’s a slight tinge of dissonance on “Heston.” This list could go on and on, pointing out little flaws and imperfections in every track, but… somehow this seems feckless. Any time I focus on any of the songs’ little imperfections I feel like I’m overlooking the bigger picture – whatever otherworldly vision Ikonika is trying to convey.
But what is that vision, exactly? CLWH is the transcript from a visit to an alternate, alien world where the sun shines at night and nature is pixelated. Ikonika has seen the future of dubstep, and this is the result of her attempts to commit it all to tape. CLWH turns dubstep on its head, but in the process creates something that can still be enjoyed within the conceptual framework of dubstep, and could conceivably still be categorized as such. The differences between this album and the rest of mainstream dubstep manifest themselves in the form of awkward drum programming and occasional dissonance, and the album only sounds odd at first because of how vast those differences actually are. After several listens, though, those shortsighted complaints about individual tracks dissolve into a greater understanding of how inventive CLWH really is.
It might be too early in the game to throw around terms like post-dubstep, but this is certainly a step in that direction. Part of the reason that CLWH is so difficult to understand is that music that has influenced this album can only serve as an incomplete guide. It will be a lot easier to contextualize in the wave of imitators that is sure to follow. We can probably expect those to start popping up within 6 months or so, but for now, Ikonika is far, far ahead of anyone else in the game.
Contact, Love, Want, Have is available on Hyperdub.
