BT - These Hopeful Machines

Nettwerk: Cat. # 0 6700 30849 2 5 

Released February 2010 

Track List: 

Disc 1: 

1. Suddenly (8:06) 

2. The Emergency (10:53) 

3. Every Other Way (11:07) 

4. The Light Of Things (10:47) 

5. The Rose Of Jericho (7:43) 

6. Forget Me (9:38) 

Disc 2: 

1. A Million Stars (12:25) 

2. Love Can Kill You (5:22) 

3. Always (6:12) 

4. Le Nocturne De Lumiere (11:38) 

5. The Unbreakable (10:25) 

6. The Ghosts In You (7:57) 

IN BRIEF: These songs, I wish. 

I’m not going to proclaim to be anything of a BT expert. I sporadically enjoyed a number of his tunes from the 90s, was ready to proclaim him an incredible producer after hearing Fibonacci Sequence on Sasha’s GU: 13 mix compilation, then was mightily disappointed in the album Movement In Still Life. It sounded like an overcooked attempt at ‘electronica’, fully three years too late to be relevant; mind, it probably didn’t help I was exposed to the busted American version either. 

None of Mr. Transeau’s output interested me since that time (well, aside from the perverse curiosity of what an N’Sync collaboration would sound like …it sucked). Apparently I’ve missed out on some dizzying highs (This Binary Universe) and dilapidated lows (Emotional Technology), which I’m sure would affect my thoughts on this latest album to some degree. As it stands, however, perhaps going into These Hopeful Machines without hearing those may be a benefit, as I won’t be weighed down by those expectations, good and bad. 

Actually, that’s not entirely truthful. There’s already some expectation here, most of which derived from pre-release buzz, and a good deal of which was rather… sketchy. Word had it that BT was going the pop route again, and considering his last foray down that road - Emotional Technology - has been hailed as his worst album, a number of folks were leery about how this one was going to turn out. Well, pop is indeed what we get here, more than you’re likely to ever want. 

Look, I’ve got little problem with much of pop music, whether it’s bonafide classics (The Beatles, Abba, The Police, etc.) or cheesy dance (2 Unlimited, Snap!, just about any early-90s euro dance really); a good tune’s a good tune. And BT does know how to write a good tune. There are loads of catchy choruses on this album - Suddenly, The Light Of Things, and The Unbreakable all get lodged in my noggin, such that I’ve no problem falling sway to, plus enjoyable nuggets of music scattered throughout the rest of both CDs. The trouble is BT fills his music with so many gratuitous, pointless effects and wayward tangents, it dilutes and ruins any charm the hooks have. The word “restraint” seems to be a totally alien construct to Mr. Transeau. 

Let’s put it another way. Normally, someone would write a sentence thus: “The sky is blue.” 

Now, here’s the way BT would write it: 

“The- let me pause for a moment, as I wish to present to you a theory of the cosmic significance of the word ‘the’, as it relates to the number pi.” Three paragraphs later… “…anyhow, the firmament above, where the heavens so grand exist beyond a fragile veil of nitrogen, oxygen, carbon dioxide…” (every atmospheric element is listed at this point) “…contains a deep azure melding with various shades of cerulean, aquamarine, and blue, which is a color I love, you love, and we all must love, like a dove, for love is the grandest of loving feelings, a feeling of pure emotional nurturing sentiment, this love we love.” 

That’s what it’s like to listen to this album. It grows so tedious that anytime an effects-laden ‘solo’ emerges, I completely tune out until it finishes. I simply don’t care. Another thing that struck me is how BT seems to be playing catch-up with contemporary club music, including rounding up regular ‘trance’ vocalists like Christian “Will Shed Tears For Sunrise” Burns and Jes “You Still Remember ‘As The Rush Comes,’ Right?” Brieden. Perhaps most shocking is The Emergency, a collaboration with Anjunabeats regular Boom Jinx. It features side-chaining, thunk-clap rhythms, and very little point beyond trying to fit in with the current generation of mau5 clones. 

Elsewhere, The Rose Of Jericho style-bites old-school McProg beats and plinky-plonk hooks, turning in a track that works at the peaks but pointlessly piddles about to get there (Le Nocturne De Lumiere suffers for much of the same reason). The Light Of Things, perhaps one of the least offensive tracks in the overwrought-effects department, is basically your standard vocal trance outing - though I must admit it’s quite good compared to many other dismal attempts of the same type; there’s fun energy to be had here (the fact it’s a collaboration with Laurent Véronnez of Airwave fame probably helps). I’ll also add The Unbreakable works in this regard as well, although whenever I imagine the scene in which it’s likely to be played at - super lasers and smug superstar DJs urging a ravenous crowd to enthusiastically hop in one spot with a fist in the air - I get a cold chill down the back of my neck for some reason. It’s a very obvious, manipulative, calculated anthem, that one. There’s also a bunch of ‘rocktronica’ tunes and downtempo moments, most of which are quite derivative of the sound (Every Other Way? Meh, needlessly long). 

Aside from Suddenly (one of the few tunes that works provided you first edit out the effects wonk that bookends the track), the only one that stood out for me was the final track, The Ghost In You, for the simple reason that it’s one of the most restrained songs on the whole album. While I was first listening to These Hopeful Machines, a couldn’t help but wonder what a BT song would sound like if he stripped away all the production trickery and simply played acoustically. Well, I got my answer here and despite being a cover of 80s band The Psychedelic Furs, it still comes off as generic as many BT tunes goes these days, especially for a singer-songwriter ballad. 

I’ve no doubt there will be plenty of new fans loving this album, as it seems to be mostly geared towards a fresher crop of party kids who aren’t much aware of BT’s 90s output but are dazzled by superfluous special-effects (or those who simply enjoy unoriginal radio-ready melodies). If such is the case, so be it. I may throw Suddenly and The Light Of Things on as a guilty pleasure on occasion but the rest of These Hopeful Machines is quite forgettable. I’ll stick to the 90s BT, thank you very much. He at least had a better grasp of the word “restraint” back then. 

Score: 4/10 

ACE TRACKS: 

The Light Of Things 

Written by Sykonee, 2010. © All rights reserved.