Review Summary: Feed Me escapes Electric Mountain; sadly arrives at Rock & Roll Mountain instead
In the same way that 12th Planet will probably never write another Infiltrata tune ever again, I think it’s safe to assume that we can kiss the career of Spor goodbye. And even if he decides to pursue his drum & bass moniker any further, if
Pacifica is any indication of where he hopes to take that name, perhaps that creation’s untimely death should only be met with tears of joy at the wise decision to terminate something before it becomes an unholy caricature of itself. I’m sure by now we’re all familiar with the recent turn of events regarding Skrillex and his adoring fans and their disturbing obsession with the technical merits of DROPS BABY, DROPS!!!!, so it really should come as no surprise that with every release, Jon Gooch has found himself, perhaps even unknowingly, aligning himself ever closer with Corey Feldman’s long lost offspring. It would seem that the niche market of American dubstep is a relatively simple scene to crack, given that its fans seem so easy to please, so to see Feed Me now following so closely to the few simple rules that have been laid out by the drop-following public should therefore be seen for what it is: an artist simply looking to follow a trend in the hopes of pocketing a few extra dollars. Which is perhaps a rather hollow and accusatory statement to be making, but one only needs to hear opening track ‘Trapdoor’, featuring grindie/nu rave (the always informative blogosphere is quick to inform me that these are, in fact, still “things”) outfit Hadouken! to see just how far Gooch has slipped down the creative ladder.
Granted, Feed Me attempts to reclaim lost property with house tracks ‘Embers’ and ‘Relocation’ (where he ends up pulling a rather dodgy case of plagiarism, on himself no less) but by comparison, they just seem like filler, opening acts to hold over until the main event. Perhaps slipped into the middle of a mix by some daring DJ they might find themselves holding more weight, but on their own they simply flounder – catchy in the way that repetition will eventually tire even the most steadfast of clients into submission, and yet ambiguous enough to avoid any true accosting. ‘Trichitillomania’ is a touch more classy, simply because it evokes a degree of groove, though it ends up being one of the few Feed Me tunes that could have actually benefitted from being amped up into the adrenaline courting tendencies of his usual Saturday night vices. It also veers dangerously close to Mau5 territory, though I’m hesitant to call it a direct attempt at aping Zimmerman’s successful application of vocal-free catchy house – either way, the effect is the same. But any and all hope this EP might have had is quickly destroyed with the arrival of ‘One Click Headshot’, which is essentially the aural equivalent of a malfunctioning strobe light, and comes complete with the single most annoying fu
cking vocal sample that’s ever been put to music. It’s the kind of chunky dubstep we’ve come to expect from these arbiters of PG related rave fare: the back beat fails to have any kind of backbone to it, instead supplementing its hollow appeal with wave after wave of bass joined in perfect synchronization to the always on-point synths – god knows the 16 year-olds of the world are going to need every chance they can get at attempting to dance in time.
We’ve reached that point now where its become almost commonplace to pinpoint everyone of these releases before they’ve even dropped (no this is not a pun, but yes you can laugh at this). I suppose there’s some degree of satisfaction at knowing what to expect from a Feed Me release, and its obvious that he is doing everything in his powers to appease his new-found fans - fans who probably aren’t aware of his drum & bass alter ego, and who probably weren’t aware of him even when he was operating under the name of Feed Me and simply made electro tunes. And judging from this latest release, I’d say Jon Gooch is aware of that as well.
