HEART FROM DARKNESS

Oct 1, 2002 12:00 PM, By Ken Micallef

At one point in his life, Underworld frontman Karl Hyde was so lost that he literally wore a compass around his neck. His mind clouded from a never-ending parade of all-night drinking binges, Hyde attempted to drown his misery with alcohol, which was like trying to extinguish a forest fire with a napalm bomb. The more he drank, the darker and more cynical he became, as reflected in the lyrics that he wrote for Underworld tracks such as “Born Slippy” and for the albums Dubnobasswithmyheadman (Junior Boy's Own, 1994) and Second Toughest in the Infants (Junior Boy's Own, 1996).

“How long can you make dark records? Until it kills you?” the 44-year-old Hyde ponders, snacking on a rhubarb tart in a restaurant in New York's Tribeca district. “A full-blown addict can only die. The highs aren't high enough, and the weird shit isn't weird enough. I binged for 25 years, but I had one split second of clarity. ‘You are gonna die, and it is gonna be really horrible,’ I thought. In that one moment, I knew I was going only in one direction. I didn't even see that my drinking was affecting other people. I thought I was very responsible, but I was an asshole.”

While Hyde scoured the underbelly of London and New York in an alcohol-fueled haze in search of inspiration, his much saner but increasingly frustrated and alienated counterpart, Rick Smith, worked on music in the studio with Darren Emerson. “I was so warped with resentment,” explains Hyde. “I was thinking, ‘Here I am out there on the front lines, bringing the horror back so that you, Rick, can be in the studio and go home at night to see your family.’ It was like that in my head, but Rick saw it for the truth: I was off being an asshole, and he was making the albums. I can see that now. I had to apologize a few times. I had some bloody wake-up calls. ‘How long has this been happening, Rick?’ ‘Oh, forever,’ he said. He is a patient man.”

Fortunately, Smith's patience paid off. Hyde quit drinking about four-and-a-half years ago, and since then, Underworld has recorded Beaucoup Fish (V2, 1999); the live album and DVD Everything, Everything (V2, 2000); and their latest, A Hundred Days Off (V2, 2002). Although Emerson quit the band in May 2000 to pursue his DJ career, spend time with his family and concentrate on running his record label, Underwater, Underworld hasn't lost the fire or fury of their earlier work. However, now they balance the big banging tunes with more contemplative, cerebral music.

“All of those elements — hard, banging, surreal — have been on all of our albums,” says Hyde. “Beaucoup Fish was banging, but it still had its little quiet moments. And A Hundred Days Off is the same except it is even less banging. When we came back after playing live for three years and tried to write banging tunes, they weren't the first things that came. What happened quite naturally was more a reaction to playing all those banging tunes. And as we let the quieter tunes happen, then those more upbeat tunes eventually started to come through, too.”

But Hyde is anything but quiet and contemplative. Energetic and friendly, he seems to bounce on the balls of his feet, taking pains to see that everyone in the room is comfortable. Call it the new and improved Karl Hyde, a man who has discovered new life as a recovering alcoholic. Hyde's life has changed from darkness to light, from all-night drinking binges to 7 a.m. wake-up calls to load his kids in the van and drive them to school.

More an electronic tone poem than technologic club epic, A Hundred Days Off still boasts its fair share of blatantly banging tracks, including “Mo Move,” “Two Months Off” and “Dinosaur Adventure 3D.” Percussion is Underworld's new plaything, and they've furnished their tracks with acoustic timbales, shakers, cymbals and hand drums to create an intimacy that contrasts sharply with the decidedly man-machine electronic tapestries of Beaucoup Fish. Hyde's wordplay remains — “I dream I'm a chemical,” he sings in “Mo Move” — as do Smith's wiry and constantly evolving arrangements, but the beats are smaller in scale yet more evocative. A fat shuffle fills the torrid “Sola Sistim,” and “Twist” explores Latin rhythms, as does the closing section of “Two Months Off.” Underworld also explores jazzy electric-guitar textures on “Ess Gee” and “Ballet Lane” and breaks out a Dobro for the bluesy “Trim,” which comes across like a back-alley jam session between Ry Cooder and Mark Knopfler.

CREATIVE TURBULENCE

While Smith had enough patience to wait for Hyde's full recovery, Emerson, apparently, could not wait to get the creative involvement he desired. One day, he walked out and never came back. But Hyde and Smith don't seem too concerned about losing Emerson. “Darren's influence was greatest at the very beginning,” says Hyde. “As the group developed, we had a more eclectic sound than Darren was interested in as a DJ. Rick was writing all the music and producing all the albums. I was singing the words. Live, it was all Rick and me, really. Darren was a great vibe. When Darren left, there was no effect other than losing your friend, which still is pretty enormous.”

Although many fans were under the impression that Emerson was Underworld's groove master, Hyde disputes that role. “The grooves were all Rick,” says Hyde. “We needed a bit of confidence in the early days. Live performance was Rick's brainchild. Darren had more experience with the dancefloor and knew what to do. In two years, Rick was a long way ahead of Darren. But a difference of opinion started to form between Darren and Rick. It is unfortunate that Darren left, because we really liked him, and there was no need to leave. He left and never spoke to us again, except through his lawyers. He just stopped ringing us. I am not going to tread on his toes or embarrass him. He is still my friend and a great DJ. Some people just need that space.”

Emerson's departure and the completion of a DVD that immortalized the finest moments of several monumental live gigs gave Underworld the perfect opportunity to bow out gracefully at the peak of their popularity. But to Smith and Hyde, there was still a lot of life left in the band that they created. “The DVD would have allowed us to walk away from the group forever if we wanted to,” says Hyde. “More than ever, we had the opportunity to cut loose and say, ‘Forget Underworld,’ and see what would happen next. But all this great music started happening naturally, and the grooves came back to Rick. I started singing again, reluctantly at first, but those things were quite natural to us. We worked in our studios and traded ideas back and forth.”

But Underworld's studio work process isn't always a friendly exchange of ideas. Sometimes, it can be like jogging through a minefield, waiting for the inevitable explosion. “Creative turbulence has kept Underworld alive,” says Hyde. “Rick can be very blunt, like, ‘That is fucking crap, Hyde.’ I need that. I am not interested in sycophants. If Rick says something isn't good enough, then I am like, ‘Thank God.’ That means we have just avoided six hours of me meandering, and we can get down to brass tacks. If that is not good enough, then all I've got left is the stuff that I am quite scared to do. Sometimes, that's exactly what we need. Creative turbulence can be good as long as it doesn't turn into emotional turbulence, which is when you think, ‘God, I don't know if I can stand being around him.’ I am sure we've had that feeling between both of us at one point or another, however.”

LIGHT AFTER DARK

A Hundred Days Off is not the sound of recovery but of a man in love with life, which is most noticeable on the album's first single, “Two Months Off,” when Hyde proclaims, “You bring light in!” Hyde has discovered that the noonday sun can be as inspirational as his former nocturnal haunts. “I got a very positive feeling when I heard Rick's music for ‘Two Months Off,’ so the lyrics reflect that,” he says. “I was listening to Kool and the Gang's ‘Celebration’ and KC and the Sunshine Band at the time, so I looked through my notebooks and picked out lines that were really positive. I am still interested in lyrical fragments. They are a picture of my state of mind.”

Hyde renewed his desire to play guitar again, which can be heard prominently on “Ess Gee,” “Ballet Lane” and “Trim.” He also uses a guitar to control synth sounds. “I use a MIDI transmitter that our engineer Malcolm Corbett designed,” Hyde explains. “He took a Roland GR-10, ripped the guts out of it and put it into a quarter-inch metal box and fitted it to the back of the guitar. I can transmit MIDI to a synth, sampler or vocoder, like on ‘Two Months Off.’”

Hyde and Smith also explored the creative potential of composing with their Macintosh G4 PowerBook, soft synths and ethnic instruments. “Software synths are more instrument and less science,” says Hyde. “You don't need to spend stupid hours pressing buttons just to make a sound. We still use a Yamaha DX7 — that is the Rick Smith signature sound, very round with rich tones. We used a rackmount Minimoog for a lot of the bass on this album. And we bought these Chinese three-string electrified banjos, African violins and brass prayer bowls played with a wooden paddle that you rotate 'round the rim. It makes the whining sound in ‘Dinosaur Adventure 3D.’”

Tired of the same beats they had played the world over and fueled by a desire to remain original and challenging, Smith and Hyde bought a boatload of African, Brazilian and Indian hand-percussion instruments from Ray Man Music in London (www.raymaneasternmusic.co.uk) while recording A Hundred Days Off. But unlike Masters at Work, Juno Reactor or Damon Albarn, Underworld have steered clear of jamming with world musicians. “I am into indigenous music — the work of people like Ali Farka Toure, music from Mali and Madagascar — but I am not interested in East-West fusions,” says Hyde. “To me, it grounds something that has wings. When I listen to indigenous music, there is life, vitality and an exploration of sound. There is a passion for the sounds of those instruments and a local message that is usually about farming or news. It tells a story. But that East-West fusion stuff has no point anymore and is more about ego. These people don't need you! What Ry Cooder did with Buena Vista Social Club was cool; he just played a little guitar. That did enormous amounts for those people. But this fusion shit makes me angry.”

UNFINISHED BUSINESS

Although Hyde and Smith had finished nine tracks and considered the album finished, both felt that the record wasn't an Underworld album. The pair was satisfied with the work they had done until that point, but Hyde harbored a feeling that the album was only a collection of good tracks unworthy of their previous work. Something more was needed.

“We couldn't say to each other, ‘I don't think the album is finished,’” says Hyde. “I was trying to figure a nice way to say that to Rick because I knew he had worked so hard. The next morning, he came in the studio and said, ‘Hey, I wrote this song last night, “Little Speaker.” What do you think of it?’ It had all these beautiful chords and a spoken vocal by Juanita [of Tomato, a London design firm that Hyde and Smith work with]. It was like a contents page of all the Rick Smith bits that I love. I get a real buzz when Rick plays me a particular combination of sounds. He can put me in another zone. I said, ‘Rick, this is everything that is missing from the album.’ I heard it and felt this weight lift off of me.”

UNDERWORLD'S WORLD OF SOUND

A Selected Equipment List

COMPUTER/SOFTWARE

Emagic Logic Audio Macintosh Titanium G4 laptop

MIXERS

Mackie 32×8 mixer (live)
Midas console (live)
Pro Acoustic HQ 70 DJ mixer (live)
TL Audio VTC mixing console (studio)

SAMPLERS

Akai MPC2000
Akai S3000
Akai S3200XL
Akai S6000
Various software samplers

SYNTHS/DRUM MACHINES

ARP 2600
Clavia Nord Lead 3
Korg 03R/W
Minimoog
Quasimidi Technox
Roland TR-909
Yamaha DX7

EFFECTS

Boss noise gate BSS DPR 502 2-channel noise gate Drawmer noise gate Korg DL800R delay (2)
Neve preamps and limiters Roland VP-330 vocoder Sony HR-MP5 multi-effects (2)
TC Electronic FireworX

MICS

Beyer M88N
Electro-Voice ND-757b
Cole ribbon mic
Soundfield mic

MISCELLANEOUS

Kenton custom sync boxes Malcolm Corbett MIDI guitar transmitter Mesa Boogie Triaxis preamp Pioneer CD player/mixer Shure wireless guitar transmitter

A MAGIC SYNTHESIS ON “SOLA SISTIM”

Slow and serene, the song “Sola Sistim” comes across like a meticulously crafted composition. Karl Hyde's contemplative delivery of lyrics about the transition from a practicing alcoholic into a recovering alcoholic are perfectly complemented by Rick Smith's moody synth washes and lulling rhythms. However, the song is actually a combination of two different pieces of music.

“I recorded the vocal to something that was very hard, dark and techno — a raging 140bpm thing,” says Hyde. “Meanwhile, Rick had programmed this beautiful, loping beat that sounded great, but something was missing. One night, Rick flew in the vocal on top of that groove, and it was like, ‘Oh, yeah!’ The vocal moved backwards and forwards across the beat. The parts came from two very different places, and Rick fused them together.”

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