I’ve been trying to figure out what it is about Boards of Canada that draws me to them. I’m rather perplexed by my obsession with this band. There aren’t catchy melodies, or headbanging riffage, or even lovesick ballads. Their songs consist of breakbeats, old synths, and sampled educational films from the 60s. Why would I be obsessed with this? What sort of voodoo are they cooking up in their music?
After thinking about it long enough, I decided I really don’t care what it is. But, I have a couple theories. I think first and foremost that although there aren’t pop hooks and deep lyrics to fall into, BoC still create this world you can get lost in. For me, that world is the time of my childhood. Betamax tapes, futuristic sci fi flicks, and being left to the comforts of my imagination. Their music evokes in me going to the video store and renting those back room horror flicks, The Last Starfighter, and The Road Warrior. BoC create this soundtrack to isolation. The lone futuristic warrior with no one to love, only a vehicle, some weapons, maybe a mutt to bring along, and those that want to hurt him. These scenes could take place here on earth or out in space. Doesn’t matter, really. You see, it’s my childhood and that’s just the kind of crazy s**t I would come up with. Another thing about BoC is the feeling of being alone. Not lonely, just alone. I feel their music is a fortelling of my eventual regression from society and other humans in general, with the exception of my own family. Other than those voices in the educational films, there are no discernible personalities on their albums. The voices almost make the albums seem even more distant. So for me it’s like a soundtrack to hours in a sensory deprivation tank. I can see myself becoming a hermit. Homelocked with everything I need right here within these four walls: my wife, kids, dog, guitars, and BoC. My communication limited to clicks, hand gestures, and the waving of colored flags signifying wants and needs. A red flag indicates “more coffee, please”. A green flag indicates “help your mom with the groceries”. A black flag indicates “please buy me a purple flag”. I’ll let the “turquoise hexagon sun” do my bidding, thank you very much. Is that Leslie Nielson I hear on Geogaddi? Yes, yes it is. Is God speaking to me through “farewell fire”? Quite possibly, yes. “oscar see through red eye” told me to boil some eggs. I shall do as I’m told.
This is what a healthy dose of Boards of Canada and a rum and coke will do to a person. Is the tingling in my toes my soul dancing, the Kraken being released, or a stroke? Maybe all three. Either way, I’m good right here. Right now. At this moment.
“1969” shall play at my funeral. It will be a good funeral. Smoke ’em if you got ’em.