Underworld Happy birthday, “NUXX,” you sound as good as the day we met.

Underworld Celebrates Three Decades of Born Slippy at The O2 Brixton Academy
by Alex Maiolo 

This week marks the 30th anniversary of Trainspotting. If you happened to be around then, and were old enough to catch it when it came out, think back to how different it was. The marketing was unlike anything we’d seen before. It commanded you to go see it. The cast were relatively unknown actors, but within months their borderline grotesque bodies were on dorm room walls where Jim Morrison had held space for ages.

Mad For It, Innit…

In 1996, Job One for any PR person trying to increase the cachet of, well anything, was to slap it on the Cool Britannia shark like a cultural remora. The most effective means of doing that was through music. While not all of the tracks that ended up on the Trainspotting soundtrack were Britannia, they were undoubtedly cool.

Of course Blur, Elastica, and Pulp were represented. In yet another art-imitates-life moment, the Gallagher brothers took a pass because they thought the film was actually about trainspotters.

The chuuuuune we associate with the film more than any other, even “Lust For Life,” almost didn’t end up on the soundtrack either.

Identity Diffusion

Underworld started life as, well, not what we imagine when we think of Underworld.
I vaguely recall some sort of Westworld imagery colliding with Points On The Curve-era Wang Chung.
I clearly recall not liking it at all.

The group had grown out of a band that used a symbol for its name, a decade before The Purple One got there. Even before SEO concerns kept A&R people awake at night, this proved to be problematic enough that someone wisely said “uh, yeah, that symbol is pronounced ‘Freur.’”
And thus people began calling them Freur.

Freur presented like a band who had raided Sigue Sigue Sputnik’s wardrobe on a dare from ĒBN-ŌZN. They had some success with their “Doot Doot” single but, feeling defeated, called it a day.
Rick Smith and Karl Hyde went on to form the short-lived Underworld.
“Short-lived?”
Stick with me.

Two Years Off

In 1990, it was time for a break, so Underworld tossed in the towel. At this point Rick Smith and Karl Hyde had been working their asses off for over a decade, in three bands, to make something happen. They felt they were trying to be a band they weren’t. They’d incurred debt, were miserable, and rudderless. The pair turned their attention to their design collective, Tomato.

Attitude: Dub

Darren Emerson came into their orbit, and in 1992 the pair decided to give it yet another go as a trio. In one of pop music’s greatest level-up moments, the absolutely stunning, techno-meets-rock music Dubnobasswithmyheadman was released.

Out of the gate it’s clear this is a new band, with new ideas, influences, and methods of creation, though the name “Underworld” was retained because, hey, it’s a great name.

The timing couldn’t have been better. Somewhere between the release of Techno! The New Dance Sound Of Detroit, and the Criminal Justice & Public Order Act 1994, which banned gatherings of music featuring “repetitive beats,” (wink wink), was one of the golden eras of culture in the UK. As luck would have it, Underworld were making music that fit comfortably within the zeitgeist, which had the added advantage of just being great on any level. As with Chemical Brothers, it wasn’t just dance music. While it’s easy to compare Underworld Mk.II to excellent groups like Orbital, Leftfield, or 808 State, fact is they were channelling something different, deeper, darker and longer.

As its title announces, Dubnobasswithmyheadman mines a stream-of-consciousness method of lyric writing. Less the Bowie cut up style, more like picking bits of conversation and observances, then arranging them into a messy but gorgeous bouquet. Decades later this album still holds up.

Next, the group would release a single that would change the course of their career forever.

If you say “Born Slippy” to any music fan that was immersed in music the year it was released, it’s almost guaranteed they will regale you with tales of dancing all night and very naughty behavior.
The thing is, though, the Born Slippy A-side, “Born Slippy,” is probably not the song they are thinking of. That one showcases a developing side of Underworld, where beats are still danceable, but more complex and polyrhythmic, coupled with simple but extremely well thought out chords, and repetitive arpeggios, developing over a long arc. The trio had entered a phase where songs were becoming journeys, having more in common with Kraftwerk, and Jarre, than typical rave music, approaching worthiness of being mentioned in the same breath.
It’s on my “Traveling By Train” playlist, along with “Trans Europe Express,” Vernal Equinox’s “Le Metro,” “Les Alpx” by Floating Points, and Underworld’s “Dark and Long – Dark Train.”

Taking Drinks To Make Music To Take Drinks To

The Born Slippy B-side, “Born Slippy .NUXX.” is an entirely different song and affair.

Danny Boyle approached the band about using their music in his new dark comedy film about the lives of some junkies in Edinburgh, specifically the B-side, “Born Slippy .NUXX.” The band can be forgiven for thinking the film was going to glorify drug use. After all, even after the film’s release, politicians asserted just that. Anyone who witnessed the Gravity’s Rainbow-inspired scene where the protagonist, Renton, digs through gallons of liquid shit in “the worst toilet in Scotland” to recover his drugs, and came away thinking the junkie life was for them has a fetish I don’t understand.
Clearly the critics hadn’t seen the film.

Neither had Underworld, but after screening the film and seeing the characters portrayed as sick, pitiful, and desperate, the band agreed to its use.

You see, “Born Slippy .NUXX” is an autobiographical account of Karl Hyde’s descent into alcoholism. The dichotomy of the two seraphic chords the song floats on, with the urgent kick drum, fried vocals, and scattershot lyrics represents the highs and lows of another miserable drunken night. It culminates in the subject just trying to get from Soho back to Romford, and failing at this simple task. We’ve all been there, but one gets the impression that this might have been a way of life for Hyde at one point.

In actuality, the song has a lot in common with the film in that it’s a cautionary tale. Seems like Boyle fully understood the song.

Too bad many of the fans didn’t.

How Am I At Having Fun?

While successfully hitting all 41 times Hyde yells “BOY” on the correct beat is challenging, knowing when to shout “LAGER LAGER LAGER” isn’t.
That’s just what crowds did, once the song had become mega-mega, somewhat to the horror of Underworld. Intended to be a heartbreaking plea for help, that stanza had instead become a drinkers rally cry.
It’s not the first time something like this has happened, and it won’t be the last. Just ask The Police, R.E.M., U2, Johnny Nash, Bruce Springsteen… you get the idea.

All of this said, it’s the song that put them on the global map.
It’s the song identified with the most culture-shifting film of its time.
It’s dance music for people who may not want to dance.
It’s instantly recognizable from the very first chord stab.
Its done-in-one-take lyrics straddle the line between clang association, Mark E. Smith’s influence, and hip hop phrasing.
It’s the tune that makes normies who use the proscribed term of “electronica” yell “oh shit, y’all, this is my JAM” right before pumping a fist in the air in time with the kick drum.

Which is probably why the band made peace with their misunderstood progeny. Artists should understand that once a song leaves its port, it belongs to the world, even if the world doesn’t get the royalty check.
It probably helped that Hyde had gotten his drinking problems sorted.
“NUXX” solidified their career, and helped fund a life of full creative control, which they clearly enjoy now.
They should.
They deserve it.

The band seems legitimately chuffed that “Born Slippy .NUXX” has entered the pantheon of great songs, and often close the set with it. Following its success, they have put out one fantastic album after another.
Underworld would never be in danger of going on life support again.

I’ve Grown So Close To You, Boy

Funnily, when I heard the Trainspotting soundtrack and realized the slamming, intense “BOY!” song was by a group called Underworld, I just figured it was a different band with the same name. Years later I would hear “Cups,” and “Jumbo,” marvel at how utterly fantastic these songs are, get a copy of Beaucoup Fish, and marvel at how incredible this band is. I put the puzzle pieces together, learned about the band’s history, realized the Mk.I synth pop band, with the cowboy hats or whatever, were indeed the same core people.
Then I just figured “ok, that’s the one album by them I don’t need to own.”

A performance at Roskilde left my jaw on the floor.
I haven’t been the same since.

Few bands have made such an impressive, impossible leap in quality and depth. Radiohead’s jump from Pablo Honey to The Bends, then from that to OK Computer is the rare example that comes to mind.

Rick Smith is one of the true greats in electronic music, a beats master who deeply understands the slow build. He can take something as simple as two or three chords and make absolute magic with it. “Illegal,” by PinkPantheress is based on a loop of the two stab supersaw from “Dark and Long – Dark Train.”
It was nominated for a Grammy this year.
I believe in Underworld more than I can express, but I did not see that coming.

Brilliant Yes That Would Be

On February 5th, 6th, and 7th, Underworld took over a sold out O2 Academy in Brixton to celebrate the 30th anniversary of their best-known song.
I did not even know this was even happening until I cleared customs at Heathrow. I’d flown over to see my friend Jonas play a final show with his band of 31 years, Mew.

In some ways I’m the Underworld version of a Deadhead, but living in the U.S., I don’t get to see them so often. Oddly, I just happen to have the miracle luck of being in the right place at the right time.
One of those was at Portola, watching the show with the band’s management, where I caught wind of the “I’m In Fucking Underworld” campaign before it happened, since my editor at The Quietus is the person who coined it. I’ve caught the band at Detroit’s Movement festival, Manchester’s Warehouse Project, and many others, but it wasn’t until I saw them at The Warfield, in my home city of San Francisco, that I learned something very important: when it’s their show, they do two incredibly well-constructed sets. Usually the first is a little vibey, and the second ramps up a bit. Not until I experienced this did I fully understand the band’s intention as a live act.

Through a combination of kind favors, and luck, I managed to get into the February 6th show at the Brixton Academy. With a little hustle I managed to make it to the one on the 7th as well.

It turned out there was also a pop up shop in the Brixton Market. I bought vinyl, socks, got Jamaican food, and grabbed a pint at Trinity Arms two days before the shows even began. The events surrounding NUXX at 30 were a nice icing on the cake.

There’s something meaningful about seeing one of your favorite bands two nights in a row, as I’d done with Kraftwerk many years before. You can spot the differences in the shows, but also confirm certain things.

The first night I drank it in with friends, the second I put on my professional hat, observed, and took notes. At some point I asked the young men in front of me how long they’d been fans.
“As long as I can remember! Our parents used to go to raves together.”
Turns out it’s not only Wu Tang that’s for the children.

Set two started with the reason for the season. The NUXX-less “Slippy” kicked things off, and the crowd was taken through a set packed with a few more bangers, whereas the first was a little trippier, even if both were a cross-section of what the band does best. There were easter eggs of other Underworld tunes tucked into some songs.

At times the light show, which stretched into LED nets above our heads, was so intense hallucinations took me over.
A deep cut I’d never heard live before, “S T A R,” was played, and they ended with “NUXX.” I’ll forever rank the live version from Everything Everything as my favorite. The air raid siren synth sequence right before the turnaround is one of my favorite moments in the long history of music. However, the version played at O2 both nights I was there was stellar.
They had bookended the second set with both Slippies.
Nice.

During that final track of the evening, when the confetti cannon shot its ammo, the room was so warm with the body heat of dancers, some of the colorful paper strips floated upwards.

40 Years Young

Underworld has aged gracefully, but in no way do they feel like old men on a victory lap. Karl Hyde can both command the crowd like a revival preacher, and simultaneously be with the audience – there is always a top vibe of “we’re in this together tonight.”
It’s a party, but there’s also the feeling that we’re all in some giant version of Wayne and Garth’s basement. They are gracious performers, and it’s clear they make music because making music is fucking fun.
I swear I caught Hyde toasting a fan and saying “can you believe it?”
Were I ever to find out that the constant back pats and hugs between Smith and Hyde were insincere it would probably make me doubt every other thing in this world.

I often think of songs that were unlikely to become hits, but somehow did. How could “Hocus Pocus,” by Focus, for example, ever even get on the radio, much less make it into the Top 10? “Born Slippy .NUXX” is one of those songs to me.

Also remarkable is that “NUXX” is The Little B-side That Could, joining the same club as “How Soon Is Now” and “You Can’t Always Get What You Want.” Even with the film placement, it seems impossible that “Born Slippy .NUXX” would chart so high, because it’s so groundbreaking and, well, fantastic.
On an episode of the Rockonteurs podcast, Gary Kemp, Guy Pratt, and Steve Lillywhite discussed great songs that were kept from the number one slot by a lesser track. While I have nothing against Fugees, their relatively straight-bat cover of “Killing Me Softly” put the kibosh on “NUXX,” a defining song for a new generation, from grabbing the ring.

Yet a silver medal is still very much worth celebrating, especially when an underdog collects it. Smith and Hyde’s hard work finally paid off, they don’t seem to take anything for granted, so celebrate we did.

Happy birthday, “NUXX,” you sound as good as the day we met.