Review Summary: Museum music
London based DJ/producer Harry Agius’ debut album Fragments of Us has an interesting concept. With a mix of musical tribute, news reports, interviews and spoken word Midland presents a brief history of the western gay scene before, during and after the AIDS pandemic. Agius pulls of this challenging concept with admirable finesse and as a result involves you in this interesting and at times tragic history.
The music relates to the history it’s portraying in the way that a museum’s building relates to the art it contains. The music isn’t sad in the way electronic dance music can be sad (e.g. LCD Soundsystem’s “Someone Great”). Rather, it’s contemplative. It elevates the history it’s portraying - providing it with a somewhat-serious-but-appropriately-so frame. Listening to Fragments of Us puts you in the type of mood you feel in a museum. As a result, you don’t feel like a voyeur in a strange world. You feel guided in absorbing part of a subculture you might not know anything about and you feel free to form your own thoughts and feelings about it.
About half the tracks feature interviews. For example, on “In My Head” Midland uses street interviews to sketch the political climate in the UK surrounding Clause 28, which prohibited the promotion of homosexuality by the local government between 1988 and 2000. “David’s Dream” features devastating reflections from artist and activist David Wojnarowicz on the dread and anxiety from seeing everyone around him die and suffer from AIDS, while suffering from the illness himself:
“(...) attending a memorial for somebody that I don’t know, but know a little bit of through somebody else that I hardly know and then listening to this personality or this person take shape in the words of all these people giving testimonial at this memorial as to what was now missing from our midst in the form of this person and personality and really I just don’t want to ***ing die.”
On “1983-1996” DJ Jonny Seymour recalls his personal experience of the AIDS epidemic, but he also recalls the end: “There was one week when no queers died in Sydney. (..) There’s a sense of hope in queer times now that’s kind of victorious as well.” In this way, Midland helps you appreciate the impact the AIDS epidemic has had - and still has - on the queer community.
The music supports the themes well. For example, on “NYCDL” Luke Howard recalls the history of the New York Down Low - a now legendary queer night club. The song successfully creates a club feel without losing the more calm and contemplative vibe of the album. In general, the music is sparse but intricate - leaving plenty to be discovered on repeated listens.
Although the music is relaxed, this is not an album you can listen to in the background. Like a museum, it demands your attention, but it rewards you with a rare and thought provoking experience.
