“It’s really something…”
It’s rare for me to cherish an album just as much in message as in music. In their fascinating 2021 documentary ‘Give Up On Hopes And Dreams’, Mark Fell describes Terri Thaemlitz’ individual projects as all falling under a greater overarching project. Their work is never preachy and never one-note either, but to me, all permeate with a direct message to the listener: don’t forget the bigger picture. This is the focal point of Midtown 120 Blues - a record that is easily their most well-known, especially in the deep house space, but one whose sentiment Thaemlitz would argue they had discussed at length in previous projects, albeit without the press and promotion.
If ever Thaemlitz was to have a call to action in their music, the intro would say it all: “Let's keep sight of the things you're trying to momentarily escape from.” Essentially, if we want to retreat deep into the bowels of house, we have to carry with us an understanding of where it came from - dancefloors resonating with the difficulties of transgendered sex work, black market hormones, drug & alcohol addiction, racism, gender & sexual crises, unemployment, and censorship. Our troubles don’t escape us on the dancefloor just because the blasting speakers keep asking us if we can ‘feel it.’
The music itself is subtle but brutally honest. Of course we rightfully throw the ‘house’ label on it, but these tracks don’t ever try to play with your emotions; they just exist. No big build-ups and climaxes, these pieces invite you in but don’t reward you with instant gratification. Instead, their mood seeps through each gently-pressed black piano key, and the light snaps and wooden clicks of percussion aiding and abetting the muted kicks. Their mood seeps through each spoken word sample, clearly decontextualised from a space not so open-minded as the world Thaemlitz creates here, with pastors questioning what the world is coming to, and a woman supposedly referring to the resilience of her cross-dressing friend, really questioning why on earth they would want to put themselves through that. That’s because this “open-minded world” I’m referring to might be the very point Thaemlitz is looking to get across: these vocal samples only appear open-minded when placed in the context of a house record from an artist who we know is a speaker and educator on identity politics and the socio-economics of commercial media production. Through their lens, anything sounds progressive, but that’s only within all this context: these vocal samples, and the music beneath it, did not come from a world so forgiving.
I realise I’ve hardly spoken about the music, but it’s beautiful. It’s diverse, dynamic and immaculately-produced. But just like all of Thaemlitz’ work, it accompanies the broader issues they’re looking to address. What makes a record like this special to me is that it’s made me question the very core of a genre I love, which isn’t “so much a sound as a situation.” It’s reminded me to not shed your problems on the dancefloor and escape from the ‘real world’, but carry those things with you when it’s that “larger context that brought you here.” And it reflects the power of music to even make someone reflect on these things, question their understanding of something and create change in their own minds.
Thank you Terre for your music and everything that comes with it.