Ah, now this one is harder, and I see no obvious way to cheat. I don't expect anyone is interested in where my tastes begin and end—not even me. It's the music that's interesting.
I don't think anyone would be surprised I like this musically. But this is where BoC's points of reference may be difficult for some, if you take them seriously (a big if).
Before there was BoC Pages, there was a lovely web page titled What the hell is up with Boards of Canada? (still available on archive.org) that neatly collected the cryptic references of BoC's music from the Geogaddi and In A Beautiful Place era.
To my mind, these references are little more than fun easter eggs for the careful listener.
30 days of music, but just Boards of Canada songs, day 13: a song that is a guilty pleasure.
Oh go on then: Sir Prancelot Brainfire. Based on the theme of the BBC's Adventures of Sir Prancelot, except it samples not the original theme but a version by the Piccadilly Players (thanks, Boc Pages).
30 days of music, but only Boards of Canada. Day 12: a song from a band I hate. We finally enter remix territory.
While recording The Campfire Headphase, BoC famously told their label to turn down all remix requests “unless they were from God or Beck.” Beck came knocking a short time later. (Pictured above is DALL-E/GPT-4's attempt to capture this moment.)
I don't hate Beck, but I did harbour a lingering distaste for his popular output of what I think of as the Devils Haircut era. But I know his music is revered by people wise enough to know about these things (BoC included) so I have cultivated a more open mind, though not to the point that I seek him out.
Of course a BoC remix is the exception to this rule, hence the excellent: Broken Drum – Remixed by Boards of Canada. Again, if only BoC had worked with more singers here and there.
Note: Spotify user tom.dp has compiled a playlist of all 22 Boards of Canada remixes available on Spotify.
Let's not try anything clever. This is a chance to share a BoC song I really like that might not fit future criteria: Palace Posy.
This is an odd one, even by BoC norms. A song of two halves. The first, while sounding like them, doesn't work for me at all. That might be BoC toying with is, or there may be a layer of subterranean brilliance I'm yet to unearth. A bit of both, I suspect. But today, I'd say this was the worst BoC recording by a margin—if it ended at 2:30. Which it doesn't.
At 2:30 there's a turn, and after another 30 seconds the song is transformed into BoC at their sublime (and sumliminal) best. It has perhaps the best use of a voice sample in any BoC record, which BoC Pages suggests might be from a Minneapolis TV ident from the 1970s (sounds plausible).
And, as is so often the case with BoC's best moments, it's over cruelly quickly.
Zoetrope is the least boccian of its tracks, but its rhythmic, lilting appregio-esque melody (evoking a zoetrope, do you see?) is both relaxing and transportative (if that's a word), which is a powerful combination for sleep.
I don't dance any more. It's for the best. BoC aren't remotely dance-y anyway. But they do veer into the vaguely uptempo here and there. XYZ is tempting, but no, let's go with Alpha and Omega, another from Geogaddi. (That's Geogaddi's sleeve art up top. Let's do more pictures.)
I've been looking for an excuse to include this. It's one of my favourites, but as I said, only in more recent years. That's one of the joys of BoC, or perhaps just loving a band for a very long time: the back catalogue keeps giving.
Not one of BoC's signature melodies—I'd describe this more as pagan techno—but still unmistakably and mesmerisingly them.
At face value, finding a BoC song I know all the words too shouldn't be hard because the words are minimal. But factor in obscured lyrics and snatched samples of voices and things get quite interesting.
My choice: 1969. This is BoC's most accessible moment from arguably their least accessible record, Geogaddi. An unmistakably big tune, it somehow manages to sound melancholic and euphoric at the same time, culminating in the refrain 1969 in the sunshine / 1969 in the sunshine.
But there are some hard-to-make-out and downright mangled lyrics before you get there. The song, and Geogaddi generally, are a big reason why BoC cryptologists have taken to listening to BoC songs backwards.
I'll leave at that, but BoC Pages has the skinny on 1969, if of interest.
30 days of music, but only Boards of Canada, day 7. A song that remind me of a certain event. Tough one. Songs definitely remind me of times and places, but not so much events. Not for music I choose to listen to, anyway.
Ah yes! Trapped.
This is a remix of the brilliant Colonel Abrams song of the same name, released under BoC's lesser-known Hell Interface monicker. (Which was bound to come up at some point: too good.)
Trapped is a brilliant remix of a brilliant song, lending a very different, sinister vibe. It's suggestive of a road-not-travelled where BoC choose to work more with vocalists. They have done that via the medium of remixes from time to time. but an album of actual songs paired with BoC's signature melodies would be a very special thing.
I DJ'd at a few friends' weddings and parties in my youth, but it was the one time I DJ'd at a London club (Ginglik, now closed) that I played some Hell Interface. I actually played The Midas Touch, not Trapped that evening, but anything Hell Interface makes me recall that time, and I've come to love Trapped a little more. Fun evening!
I remember exactly where I was the first time I heard Boards of Canada: the computer labs half way up Appleton Tower. It was 1998 and, for the first time, I was let loose with a T1 connection. The Edinburgh University IT admins hadn't figured out Napster and Quake II yet.
I was there to do a Computer Science and AI degree but my actual education was self-administered, as it had been since I first had access to a modem. One afternoon Roygbiv landed in my Pegasus Mail email inbox via the university's Lewis email server (which were all named after Scottish islands.) Music Has the Right to Children was not long released, and Paul was on the case. Thanks, Paul.
Roygbiv has always been an outlier in the BoC pantheon—to my ears, anyway. Melodic. Catchy, even. Big fruity bass. Big crunchy drums. Earworm. Simple—perhaps deceptively so. But clean. Polished. Unbroken. And therefore unusual. For years, it was the BoC track you played to people that didn't know BoC yet, and it never failed to captivate the discerning ear. Some music evokes a weak visual synesthesia in me. Roygbiv is vivid orange.
For years it was one of my favourites. Inevitably, after years of listening, the bangers make way for more subtle fare to bed in as favourites. Your Roygbivs give way to your Telephasic Workshops, your 1969s to your Alpha and Omegas. But Roygbiv will always be special.
I've heard it so many times it's in my bones. I don't need to hear it to write about it.
30 days of music, but only Boards of Canada. Missed yesterday, so a double-dip today. Day 5: a song that reminds me of someone: Peacock Tail.
The Campfire Headphase is BoC at their most accessible. But that, in itself, isn't pejorative. Peacock Tail is brilliant and beautiful. One of those melodies they seem to unpick from the fabric of the universe. The sound of ants at work. Planets in orbit.
From a playlist I made for someone going very far away. Thank you for coming back. x
YouTube (can't see an official channel for this, so let's go with a video from the vibrant BoC fan-video community which I hope someday to contribute to…)
