Cover for "RePorpoised Phantasies" by Machine Girl
It’s undeniable that social media has heavily influenced music.
From the recontextualization of the industry through new marketing opportunities to the pervasion of the infamous “tiktok song” phenomenon, the way we consume music — and the way certain artists rise to mainstream popularity — owes itself largely in part to social media.
Such can be seen especially in the realm of alternative music, with once underground genres permeating into the broader subcultural consciousness.
“Atari Teenage Riot 2010” This image was originally posted to Flickr by Libertinus, licensed CC-BY-SA 2.0
Of these genres, breakcore in particular stands out.
What is Breakcore?
A “normie” friend of mine once described breakcore as “electronic music for anime fans,” which is somewhat true in describing the genre’s contemporary sphere.
However, the “electronic anime” style many consider to be breakcore is actually far removed from the genre’s original sound.
Cover for “My So-Called Life” by Venetian Snares
Breakcore emerged in the 1990s as the “bastard hate child” of jungle, happy hardcore, gabba, speedcore, drum ‘n’ bass, techno, IDM, acid, ragga, electro, dub, country, industrial, noise, grindcore, classical music, hardcore, metal and punk.
This auditory hodgepodge arose in response to the rise of fascism — both figurative and literal — in mainstream society. The choppy, experimental and erratic styles of breakcore spat in the face of hegemonic consumerism, capitalism and white supremacy.
With no specific melodic style, the breakcore sound derives from a mixed bag of styles “cut and pasted” from different genres to produce elaborate beats.
Since its inception, breakcore exists as a plastic organism. Constantly in metamorphosis, breakcore is directly influenced by the time in which it’s produced.
In sociologist Andrew Whelan’s article “Breakcore: Identity and Interaction on Peer-to-Peer,” he asserts that the breakcore genre’s development is fueled by online and peer-to-peer distribution.
Thus, contemporary breakcore possesses a distinctly “internetcore” style with influences from anime, video games and pop culture.
Modern breakcore engages with a distinctly online space, often mingling with aspects of glitchcore, vaporwave and other internet-born genres.
Cover for “WLFGRL” by Machine Girl
Growing from the digital hardcore scene of the 2010s, contemporary breakcore is not only built on sound but aesthetic.
With the rise of online “aesthetic culture” and the dissemination of the “alt” label in subcultural spaces, artists like Machine Girl and goreshit capitalize on the duality of sound and presentation.
Some critics argue that this quality undermines the genre’s originally anticonsumerist convictions, with breakcore songs reaching internet virality through apps like Tiktok and Instagram Reels.
Perhaps I will cover the “tiktok song” phenomenon in a future article.
Final Thoughts
While I don’t think it’s necessarily vital to understand the history of breakcore, I do think it’s sociologically valuable.
Much like language changes over time, so does music. And for a genre as malleable as breakcore, it can serve as a sort of time capsule for the era in which it’s made.
Something about that is extremely cool to me, even if it means the genre is moving farther away from its original purpose.
This summer has been an interesting time for music.
In my personal life, I’ve dedicated myself to cultivating my baby brother’s blossoming interest in different genres. His journey began with a timid interest in trap metal and currently spans numerous metal subgenres, experimental music and classic punk.
He’s also acquired a taste for 2000s-era emo music.
It’s amusing — and existentially terrifying — to see my fourteen-year-old brother listen to the same razor-edged songs I listened to over eight years ago.
I guess good music (and teenage angst) really does transcend generational gaps.
In the name of broadening his musical horizons, I’ve started taking him to shows. Of these shows was that of Black Bouquet, a Raleigh-based gothic rock band, at Durham’s The Pinhook.
Unfortunately, COVID-19 necessitated the show’s cancellation. So while this article was originally intended to be a concert review, I’ll take the opportunity to shine some light upon an excellent (and underrated) local band.
Black Bouquet
Black Bouquet defines itself with many labels. Among these are “gothic rock,” “post-punk,” “jangle pop” and — what my brother most appreciates — “emo.”
Having listened to most of Black Bouquet’s discography, I definitely see the band as more emo than goth.
I largely attribute this to the work of lead vocalist Violet O, whose beautifully moody voice evokes the sensitivity and raw emotion that defines the emo genre.
Cover for “Haunt Me Once More” by Black Bouquet
The band’s gothic slant derives from their use of synths and melancholic string instruments, with their track “Footsteps” presenting a bass strain reminiscent of Lebanon Hanover’s “Gallowdance.”
However, where Lebanon Hanover delves deep into a cemetary-like gloom, Black Bouquet’s sound is upbeat and transcendent.
Discography
The band debuted in October 2020 with the single “Until You’re Gone,” an exuberant track with jangly instruments and a beautiful harmony between Violet O, drummer Michael Rumple and Violist Laura Mooney.
The EP consisted of “Until You’re Gone,” “Just Kids” and several new tracks.
Cover for “Until You’re Gone” by Black Bouquet
The band’s latest release, their 2022 single “Footsteps,” is another impressive addition to their lamentably short discography.
An energetic, rock-inspired guitar contrasts with a morose and cold bassline before the rhythm takes on a pop-like beat. O explores the harsher side of emo vocals with several evocative screams, which accompany a vigorous guitar and drum combo.
Though “Footsteps” isn’t my favorite Black Bouquet song, it demonstrates the band’s experimentation with different qualities of the genre.
