Release Notes
Label: Disciples
Released: October 18, 2024
Bogdan Raczynski is a Polish-American electronic musician revolving around that eclectic UK-centric Rephlex scene, credited for the evolution of IDM, drill’n’bass, and “braindance” that brought us the likes of µ-Ziq, Squarepusher, Bochum Welt, Cylob, and of course, that barely known troubadour AFX. In fact, Richard D. James cited Raczynski as an inspiration for his music on Drukqs. Besides producing for Björk and remixing tracks by Autechre, among others, Raczynski released an impressive collection of albums on the above-mentioned Rephlex, Ghostly, Planet Mu and Warp. But his roots go back even further. Starting in the early 90s, he was a member of KFMF, a netlabel before netlabels even existed, run by Dan Nicholson (aka Maelcum), releasing MODs, S3Ms and XMs via the 2400 dial-up BBS for the tracker and demoscene. Yes, I remember those days – that’s how we learned from each other. Raczynski appeared on these pages in my Best of the Year selections: Rave ‘Till You Cry in 2019 and ADDLE in 2022, and today, I am happy to dive deeper into his latest album.
Lovingly titled You’re Only Young Once But You Can Be Stupid Forever is a collection of 18 miniatures, with most hovering around the two-minute mark. Yes, I would like these to be a lot longer, as I think there are plenty of unique and very interesting ideas that could be developed here, but Raczynski doesn’t linger more than needed – tracks begin, move into some previously uncharted territory, skipping along the dark alley holding hands with deep bass, detuned laser synths, and mysterious percussion, before sliding off into oblivion of playful mayhem and tongue-in-cheek production techniques. Fans of Aphex Twin’s approach to sound design and composition will find themselves right at home. Let’s briefly talk about the album cover, shall we? It’s a QR code. You know what to do with that. Ok?
A collection of warmly melodic electronic sketches, with tracks alternately drifting beatless on the breeze or underpinned by lo-fi drums, sometimes barely held together with a delicate construction of odd synth patches and ping-pong percussion. Each piece is short and to the point. Whilst this description may sound utopian, the album is conceived around themes of late-stage capitalist brutality, hyper-consumerism, online doom and algorithmic apocalypse. Beauty in the face of planetary collapse and 24/7 live-streamed genocide.
Upon consecutive listens the album hits all the right places. On the surface, it is deceivingly happy-sounding. It reminds me of the time I had a big smile on my face, realising that it was time to close one chapter and begin another – anticipating the excitement of the future and saying sad goodbyes to the present, instantly becoming the past. There is a melancholy undertone in its production – a reflection on the good ‘ol times, perhaps, when one was a real ‘bedroom musician’ [whatever that may mean]. Back then, you just were something that you didn’t know you were until today. I guess one was a tracker. I guess one was a raver. I guess one was an elite courier of those zero-day warez. Beneath the layers of complex synthesis, Raczynski’s tracks are liberating. Shedding the labels, shedding the structures, shedding the past. Raczynski makes music that makes him feel real. It makes me feel real, as well…
The album was released on October 18th via Warp’s offshoot imprint, Disciples. It is available on black vinyl, compact disc, and, of course, a digital edition. There’s also a T-shirt with an abbreviated title, which you can show off on a college campus, where everyone looks uniquely the same. Stay tuned for an “In the studio with Bogdan Raczynski“, which I will publish next week! I promise that it will be a fun read!
