Too Black, Too Strong: Music for the Movement

It begins with a jolt. Pauline Henry belts a long, jubilant cry. Then the shuffle of snare breaks over rave chord stabs come in and AceMo’s euphoric remix of The Chimes 1990 hit “Heaven” is off and running at full speed. Haus of Altr’s 10th release begins with a flurry, an offering of Black joy. At a time of immense instability, of heavy feelings of grief, anger, emptiness, of mourning, of protesting for Black Lives Matter, Haus of Altr delivers right on time. 27 brilliant tracks by 27 brilliant Black electronic artists.

It is perhaps an indication of our times, of the work that still needs to be done, that for a genre created and pioneered by Black artists, a compilation of techno with an all Black roster feels like a bold statement. Haus of Altr’s message is simple: “In these trying times, we come together to stake claim on the roots of techno and its potential future.” HOA010 is an exploration of different modalities of presence, through rhythm and movement, through history and its relevance today, and through the crucial work of imagining a more just future. Haus of Altr firmly asserts that techno was Black, techno is Black, and techno will be Black.

The power of this compilation is in the visceral way that it brings you to the present. From the beginning, the rhythm compels you to move and in doing so brings awareness to your body. It is a reminder to move, by instinct, in ways you may have neglected to do during a time of quarantine and protest. To dance, to close your eyes and sweat in the summer heat. To experience shivers throughout the body at the sound of the thumping bass drum kicks and jittery synth arpeggios in Akua’s incredible debut track “Lucid Dreams.” To experience tension listening to Escaflowne’s “The Blenda” and become fully aware of where these tensions manifest in your body. To be grounded in the rhythm and in your body, to stretch and break up scar tissue, to relieve that tension that has built up as you dance to DJ SWISHA’s ecstatic track “New Luv.”

HOA010 is a guide for practicing presence, drawing you in with its expansive rhythms, each track compelling you to move in different ways. And as you dance, your mind wanders, images of sitting on front stoops, head bobbing in the summer humidity as the sun lazily sets. HOA010 shows us that presence can be an awareness of your breathing or a releasing of tension in the body through movement or a relaxation of the mind that lets you wander freely.

The compilation is a snapshot of our present moment. In the wake of mass protests for Black Lives Matter, in the wake of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Elijah McClain, Tony McDade, Ahmaud Arbery, Riah Milton, Oluwatoyin Salau, and many, many more, the release of HOA010 on June 19, 2020, Juneteenth, a day for celebrating and honoring the resilience of Black people in America, is an offering of Black excellence and resistance. Haus of Altr shows us that presence can also be experienced as a reflection on history, an awareness of the ways in which the past informs the present. Presence is remembering Eric Garner, Michael Brown, Rodney King. Presence is the Ferguson Uprisings. Presence is the 1992 Los Angeles riots. Presence is remembering 2015 and 1992 and understanding that things haven’t changed.

Presence, then, is the power of remembering these histories, or perhaps, the insistence to never forget them. On Speaker Music’s track “The Stamp of Color,” Salenta says, “See, knowledge really is power, and if people learned about the history of my people, they would see that, ‘Oh snap, we are all benefitting from slavery still.’” To be present, then, is to understand the history of anti-Black racism in America and how white supremacy has evolved in insidious ways. To understand how the past carries on into the present.

In the case of electronic music, to place history within our understanding of presence means to assert the roots of techno. Because much of that history has been not only forgotten but actively erased and whitewashed. The music scene is so heavily dominated by white DJs that many associate techno with Europe and with whiteness. In reality, Juan Atkins, Derrick May, and Kevin Saunderson, three Black teenagers living in Detroit, created techno. In reality, techno was pioneered by the likes of Underground Resistance, by Jeff Mills, Mike Banks, and Robert Hood. By K-HAND, Jana Rush, and Akilah Bryant. By Black people. To forget this history today, to forget that techno’s roots lie in Detroit, to willfully neglect to recognize the political nature of techno, to ignore that it was born out of struggle and out of resistance and out of innovation is an act of violent appropriation, of white capitalist exploitation.

So when you listen to Max Watts’ relentless track “Hesitancy” and are reminded of Jeff Mills’ militant techno sounds, or hear the influence of Mike Banks in DONIS’ “Dreamscape,” you are experiencing the past in the present. Presence, then, is to know history, to honor the legacies of those before you, and to build your own world, to claim your own space and your own voice in the present moment. Presence is Haus of Altr releasing a compilation of all Black artists that is so hot, the electronic music community has to acknowledge the very central place that Black electronic artists should have in dance music. Russell E. L. Butler’s track title makes this very clear: “You Think We Ain’t Have To Go This Hard, But We Really Do.”

Being present can also be a look towards the future. If the world as it is in the current moment is unjust, to resist and to fight for change is to inevitably imagine the future. When Akua repeats, “I’m looking for lucid dreams,” she evokes this search for authentic agency. Dreams can be a powerful space for processing, a space for play and imagination, and to be lucid means to be able to build and create freely. The power of art and of the artist is in imagination and creation. The DJ can build a world within sound. What does a world without the prison industrial complex feel like? What does a world where Black trans women are safe sound like? What does an inclusive dance floor look like? To sustain the movement, to truly work towards change is to both understand the present and envision the future. Haus of Altr’s showcase of 27 Black electronic artists offers a vision, a sound, a world.

As I am writing this, Haus of Altr has already released a follow up compilation. The speed at which this label, specifically AceMo and Moma Ready, releases music is dizzying, a testament to the power of movement. It is a statement to keep it moving forward. Keep up the energy. Keep fighting. With technical precision. With soul. Staying true to the roots of techno. Just as Juan Atkins, The Originator said when asked what makes Detroit techno unique in a 1994 interview for Wired Magazine, “It’s always been about insight and forward thinking.” So Haus of Altr keeps it moving, the bass pumping, drums swinging with speed, propelling us towards a more just future.

To buy/listen to the compilation, check out the link below.