Any goth kid that went to your high school, any pseudo-crusty punk who played out every hackneyed anti-authority cliché to the hilt, their attitude resounds in Don't Want To Know You's disintegrated beats, granular chunks of synthesizer and minimal drum programming, thrown out at the listener like a hot and stinky middle finger. Sodahberk must be listening to Home Invasion in his bedroom, though; the clanking hip-hop breaks and squelching bass that show up in the mix definitely belies the abrasive ethos of cuts like \x93Lagre (Long Play)\x94 or the white noise antisocialism that \x93Jax94 and the Oval-minded \x93Bunk Debris\x94-- originally on Sodahberk's a-noi-a CD-R-- subscribe to. The attitude is a front, and when Sodahberk puts himself out there, when he tries to mix with the gyrating sheep, he does his absolute best to please.
If you hollowed out his brain and filled the cavity with sand, Daren Emerson might be swayed to work Don't Want To Know You into his next Global Underground mix; there's a whole colony of X-ed out party anthems to be found on the record, bound together by mathematically precise beats that nonetheless sit on fairly shaky terrain. The hypnotic shuffle of \x93Swichd Weg\x94 is crusted over with static and radio waste, plodding along with elephantine dedication toward the DJ booth. \x93Is OK\x94 is the epitome of this approach, a tribal house behemoth that doesn't lose the static interference, but drops a short chiming melody in the mix that can't be resisted. At all times, the sound is channeled through steel wool and fiberglass, shredded to microscopic bits, and it is to Sodahberk's credit that the tracks still retain their gritty thump.
The hip-hop genes in effect are less pure, more akin to the abused structures of Plaid or the harsh dynamics of Techno Animal; the latter's Brotherhood of the Bomb LP is prime inspiration for \x93What I Can Do If You Don't Listex94, with its mountainous kicks and metallic frequencies, as well as the subterranean bassline that oozes its way into the core of \x93Participateur\x94, surrounded by drum loops that crumble under the woofer's mammoth weight. Smoother beats can be found on \x93Walk Me To The Corner\x94 and in the textured layers of the dancier \x93Devoiced\x94-- both with boom-bap backpacker kits-- or the slower tempos and rewound synth washes of the last cut, \x93Formerly\x94. They work equally well, separating the intentionally abrasive tracks from those that are able to retain their misanthropic attitude, while shamelessly reaching out for your ears.
Dwayne even tries to win us over with a miserable warts-and-all acoustic ballad, but \x93Fuck You I'm Untouchable\x94 is a case being uncomfortably honest on the first date-- after all, it wasn't to long ago that our good buddy was carving \x93Fuck you, Fascist!\x94 on the principal's desk and starting fights with anyone in a sweater-vest. All is forgotten after Don't Want To Know You: the kids sit a little closer at lunch, wait for him outside of school in the morning. He's unwashed, but loved.
