At great risk, I am making this top-secret memo public. If I'm found dead in a mangled car-wreck, you'll all know why:
Thank you for your May 3 memo (your ref. "Pitchfork! I want some answers!"). I can understand your concern in the matter of Luke Slater and his recent Alright on Top release. In this reply, I plan to outline for you my understanding of the situation, what led to its occurrence and what remedies I have already put in place to prevent it from happening again.
Allow me to briefly outline Pitchfork's engagement with Slater. First and foremost, I would like to state categorically that Slater has been one of Pitchfork's most effective operatives, domestic or overseas. Since joining the covert program, Slater has, until now, never failed to follow through on the program's directive, namely to offset and countermand hostile musical activities. Ever since one of our field operatives discovered the fifteen-year-old Slater manipulating his Commodore 64's sound card, Pitchfork Covert Operations (PCO) has recognized Slater's value in the struggle against the menace of formulaic music.
In 1987, PCO sent Slater three truckloads of equipment and the back catalogs of Pitchfork-funded Detroit techno labels Transmat and Planet E. With little instruction, Slater began to prove his worth. His first releases on the UK GPR label under his own name and as Morganistic more than met expectations. With the unveiling of his Planetary Assault Systems project in 1992, PCO decided to maintain only a weather eye on Slater's activities. No one at PCO saw reason to monitor him any more heavily. In fact, his multi-album deal with Mute's techno division, Novamute, confirmed that PCO could trust Slater to carry out his mission without constant supervision. I need not remind you that many Americans are alive and enjoying fine music today because of Slater's ambitious and innovative Freek Funk and Wireless albums.
When PCO's UK field office reported that Slater had communicated that his next album would be a slight change of direction and that he was introducing vocals, we saw no need to inquire any further. At the time, you will recall that PCO's budget was cut and POTUS had instructed you to ensure that something musically substantial should come out of his home state. If I may remind you, this confluence of events severely compromised PCO activities.
Not only was the operating budget slashed, but I had to divert 86% of what was left to guarantee the actualization of POTUS' executive order. Do you know how much leave I had to cancel, how much mandatory overtime I had to insist upon in order to transform four Austin, TX douchebags into the cream of the indie rock nation? Hookwinking hipsters with a 10.0 isn't like falling off a log, sir. In short, Source Tags and Codes about crippled PCO. Something like Alright on Top was bound to happen.
At first glance, Alright on Top seems a viable proposition-- Slater's UK spin on Motor City techno with vocals from Ricky Barrow, formerly of UK social-consciousness techno act The Aloof. I think you'd agree that that the single and album opener, "Nothing At All" pair up perfectly. Barrow's mannered R&B; moan is rendered all the more forcefulby Slater's relentless stomping techno funk. But the subsequent tracks definitely warrant thorough investigation. For one, I want to know from where Slater acquired that blip kick drum, outlawed by UN treaty since the 1993 Culture Beat incident. Similar Euro pappy trance vibes occur throughout Alright on Top. Slater is content to make his songs as banal as possible, and Barrow is content to croon his moon-in-June type lyrics as if no one really cares. Occasionally Slater takes on vocal duties and employs a vocoder, the use of which goes against internal PCO policy after the Cher debacle. But Slater's use of the device in no way contravenes international treaties.
Alright on Top closes with (and I think you'll not deny this, sir) the unequivocal return-to-form "Doctor of Divinity," which at least gives me hope for the future of Slater's activities. I share your concern over symbolically disguised messages in the cover art. It doesn't take a Hoover or a McCarthy to recognize that the Trimphone prominently featured on the cover is nothing less that an invitation to wayward former Soviet Bloc nations to contact Slater about possible double-agent activities. Likewise, Slater's Rollerball costume proclaims his intent to go rogue. Remember Kim Philby? The British do have a track record of defecting and spilling the proverbial beans.
To prevent such a disaster, I have taken steps to insure that Slater stays within the PCO program and furthers its crucial aims. Though I foresee no improvement in PCO's budgetary constraints, I will divert funds from other projects. Because the Trail of Dead project has successfully placed Texans at the top of the indie rock mountain (BTW, where was POTUS' acknowledgment or thank you card?) and PCO has contained the electroclash threat to just one section of Brooklyn, I have enough resources to guarantee the ongoing success of Slater and of the entire PCO. Substandard music will one day be eradicated from this world. My loyal and devoted team and I are proud to be part of this war on artistic terrorism. God bless America!
