(Apologies to the tl;dr crew, by the way.)
Why did so many artcore junglists avidly embrace the most conventional and middlebrow signifiers of 'musicality' - sax solos, over-melismatic singing? The reason was that underneath the bravado and the futuristic rhetoric, a secret inferiority complex lurked. Jungle is the most digitalized and sampladelic music on the planet. No acoustic sound is involved, nothing is recorded through a microphone. Jungle is composed from data derived from recordings, video or sound-modules (Pop Tart sized encyclopaedias of samples and synth-tones), and it is assembled using programs like Cubase VST (virtual studio technology), which presents loops and motifs in visual form on the computer screen. 'You feel like a conductor with an orchestra,' one producer told me. But because jungle relies so heavily on production and effects, many producers secretly believed that 'musicality' involved moving away from digital technology.
By the end of 1994, some producers in the intelligent sector of drum and bass had started to abandon samplers for old-fashioned analogue synthesizers and sequencers as used by the early Detroit techno and Chicago house pioneers; these instruments were felt to be more hands-on and 'musical' than clicking a mouse. And many began to talk wistfully about working with 'real' instruments and vocalists. Omni Trio's Rob Haigh complained to me at the time, 'There is nothing worse than seeing house artists trying to get into that live muso vibe. The live element of our music occurs on the dancefloor. House and jungle are sequenced musics, created on computers.' But few heeded the warning.
When a genre starts to think of itself as 'intelligent', this is usually a warning sign that it's on the verge of losing its edge, or at least its sense of fun. Usually, this progressivist discourse masks a class-based or generational struggle to seize control of a music's direction; look at the schism between prog rock and heavy metal, between the post-punk vanguard and Oi!, between bohemian art-rap and gangsta, between intelligent techno and 'ardkore. Often, the 'maturity' and 'intelligence' resides less in the music itself that the way it's used (reverent, sedentary contemplation as opposed to sweaty, boisterous physicality). The majority of 'intelligent jungle' tracks were no smarter in their construction than the ruff ragga-jungle anthems. 'Intelligence' merely indicated a preference for certain sounds - bongos, complicated hi-hat patterns, floaty synth-washes, neo-Detroit string sounds - over others that were harsher, more obviously artificial and digitally processed.
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Fusion-jungle wasn't an unmitigated calamity; tracks like E-Z Rollers' 'Rolled Into One', Hidden Agenda's 'Is It Love', PFM's 'One and Only', Adam F's 'Circles' and Da Intalex's 'What Ya Gonna Do' showed that it was possible to incorporate smoother textures from seventies soul and jazz-funk without forsaking jungle's polyrhythmic exuberance. But too many second division drum and bass units followed a formula. Start with an unnecessarily elongated, teasing intro; roll into the heavy-on-the-cymbals breaks; layer some wordless female vocal samples (measured, tasteful passion only, no helium-histrionics please); drag out the track, through percussive breakdowns and wafting synth-interludes, for eight minutes or longer; rinse the mix to get that airy, 'just brushed freshness' that sounds good on a really crisp hi-fi. Pursuing 'depth', but lacking the vision it took to get there, too many intelligent junglists washed up in the middlebrow shallows.
