Tag Archive: hauntology



GHOST OF AN IDEA By William Burns (Headpress Books, 2025)

A great cover, an interesting subject and a promising title but sadly the content of this book leaves a lot to be desired.
The first of its seven chapters takes up just under half the book and is for the most part a well-informed, though often repetitive, essay on the topic. William Burns knows his stuff but seems unsure whether his pitch should be high (with quotes from Derrida / Nietzsche) or low (e.g. when complaining that the vagaries of memory “can be an extreme bummer”).
The second half is mainly filler; a hotchpotch of lists, reviews and over-long interviews with obscure musicians. The focus of these pieces is very confusing. For instance, having established that Folk Horror was born in the UK, the author’s list of film recommendations contains summaries of recent American or global titles before ending with a quote from The Wicker Man!?
A review of a Nick Cave concert in Brooklyn has no obvious relevance to the rest of the book.
Worst of all, the book ends with an unseemly rant against the Toy Story franchise which is portrayed as being nothing more than a corporate exercise in mind control and is held responsible for “endless merchandising that has blighted the world for the last 20 years.” If you want to split hairs, Disney have been doing the same thing for much longer!
Aside from bordering on the unhinged, this short but spiteful essay (in lieu of a coherent conclusion) ends the book on a very sour note.



View all my reviews

Two legitimate responses to the excesses of 21st century capitalist imperialism and its attendant populist gaslighting include contemplative withdrawal or confrontational fury. The music by the artists at the 15th edition of the three day Transmissions festival (Tagline: “Exploring the sound”)  in Ravenna, Italy provided potent examples of both.

In the foyer of Teatro Rasi, the festival venue, was a small exhibition of mobile phone photos taken by Adriano Zanni.  These are shots of the petrochemical plant in Ravenna’s Piallassa Valley which Michelangelo Antonioni used as the setting for his celebrated film ‘Red Desert’ (Il Desert Rosso)  in 1964.  Writing about this film for The Village Voice in 2017, Bilge Ebiri states that Antonioni’s vision “can never be reduced to simple laments for the spiritual pollution of the world.”  Zanni quotes the Italian director as  saying that “even factories can be equipped with great beauty” and his ‘ Red Desert Chronicles’ portfolio is presented in romanticized terms as “a theatre of dreams and hopes, toil and work, a stage of majestic grandeur.”  

Continue reading

Burial tunes for a broken world

BURIAL – Tunes 2011-2019 (Hyperdub, 2019)
burial_tunes_packshot_site_512x512

“The world is falling to pieces, but some of the pieces taste good”. So wrote Adrian Mitchell in his poem ‘Peace Is Milk’, first published in his ‘Out Loud’ collection in 1968.

This remains an accurate statement even though the world is a very different place from half a century ago. Technology and technocracy have made even digital natives long for an analog age they have no direct experience of.

Allied to this is an entrenched pessimism towards the shapes of things to come. By and large, the consensus among Science Fiction writers and filmmakers is that there is little to gain from imagining what the future will be like when the present is already dystopic enough. 1984 has been and gone and the Brave New World is here and now. The plots of Black Mirror are no fiction. As William Gibson, the creator of Neuromancer, noted “The future is already here – it’s just not evenly distributed.” Continue reading

200px-mark_fisher

Mark Fisher – 11th July 1968 – 13th January 2017

Today is Blue Monday according to the depression experts. Apparently, if you’re going to feel low any time this year, today’s the day.

I never set great store by such notions, more often than not such stories amount to nothing more than clickbait.

But the post festive gloom descended heavily upon me this morning when I woke to the sad and shocking news that music critic and modern culture guru Mark Fisher has passed at the ridiculously young age of 48. Continue reading

Retromania (Pop Culture’s Addiction To Its Own Past) by Simon Reynolds  is a brilliant and perceptive study which the author describes as “an investigation – not just of the hows and whys of retro as a culture and an industry but also of the larger issues to do with living in, living off and living with the past”.

While he writes about wider cultural trends, he is at his most passionate (and knowledgeable) when writing about music. This book confirms him as the most perceptive and articulate rock critic since Greil Marcus.

At one point he muses: “Maybe we need to forget. Maybe forgetting is as essential for a culture as it is existentially and emotionally necessary for individuals” but in his heart of hearts he knows full well that this never likely to happen.

The impulse to revisit high points in your life is hard to resist and the means to do so have never been easier. If you get nostalgic for a kids TV show theme, for instance, you can find it after a few minutes surfing. Not only that, but you can often find complete episodes of shows you had all but forgotten about.

The fact that we have such resources at our disposal online largely accounts for why our obsession with the immediate past has never been greater.

Added to this is a general insecurity about the present and uncertainties/fears about what the future might hold. As Reynolds writes: “in a destabilised world, ideas of durable tradition and folk memory start to appeal as a counterweight and a drag in the face of capitalism’s reckless and wrecking radicalism”.

Reynolds is a self-confessed record-geek and book-nerd (particularly Sci-Fi). He was born in 1963 and his adolescence coincided with the advent of Post-Punk. Later, he became a huge fan of the Rave Scene. He has covered these topics extensively in his previous books.

Simon Reynolds

Retromania is a more personal and wide-ranging book peppered with autobiographical asides about growing up, moving to America (he now lives in LA) and becoming a Dad. It documents his insatiable hunger for new cultural experience, something that  means that the book is not just the work of someone harking back to a golden age.

He certainly doesn’t look down on ‘retromaniacs’ and even admits to being one himself. There is, for example, a nostalgia for his time as an avid record collector back when music was a more tangible ‘thing’ than it is now. These days, particularly for the ‘connected’ generation, music is often treated more as information than something to have and hold.

His current favourite music mostly falls into the category of Hypnagogic Pop and Hauntology (e.g. Ariel Pink, Ghost Box, Flying Lotus, Gonjasufi) but while he praises these sounds he recognises that none of it feels truly new.

Past decades threw up many new genres : beat-pop, psychedelia, ska, folk-rock in the 60s; glam, heavy metal, punk, funk and reggae in the 70s; synth-pop, Goth, house music in the 80s; rave and grunge in the 90s. The noughties and beyond is defined more by rapid changes in technology and social networking than any true musical innovation.

Reynolds has not lost the knack of inventing smart terms to summarise trends. This, after all, is the man credited with coining the genre term ‘Post-Rock’. In Retromania he talks of  “ecstatic regression” offered by You Tube.  Gang Gang Dance’s latest album Glass Jar opens with the spoken words : “I can hear everything – it’s everything time” ; with You Tube (and elsewhere), its easy to believe that we can hear AND see everything.

An even better label is “hyper-stasis” which sums up what he feels is the fundamental problem of retro-ism.  The massive and seemingly limitless vaults of information being available at the click of the mouse means that the vibrant forward-looking nature of culture has stagnated. This leads to what Cyberpunk author William Gibson calls “future fatigue” with the consequence that there seems to be a general loss of cultural appetite. The state we’re in is summed up succinctly in the closing chapter:

“In the analogue era, everyday life moved slowly (you had to wait for news, and for new releases) but the culture as a whole felt like it was surging forward. In the digital present, everyday life consists of hyper-acceleration and near-instantaneity (downloading, web pages constantly being refreshed, the impatient skimming of text on screens), but on the macro-cultural level things feel static and stalled. We have the paradoxical combination of speed and standstill”.

Retromania is a timely and important book which is a ‘must-read’ for culture vultures past, present and, maybe, future.