July 30, 1999 |
Play, the latest effort from Moby, is a masterful tangle of musical contradictions. Some of its grooves are consummate electronica, icy and futuristic. Other, more pastoral pieces are defined by an organic warmth. A healthy chunk of the album is instrumental, in the tradition of this techno pioneer's film-score work. Yet some of its highlights find Moby singing in an urban deadpan, or enlisting the help of ghost voices from an earlier era - fire-and-brimstone gospel shouters for whom every phrase was an evangelistic opportunity, sampled from the Alan Lomax archive of Deep South field recordings.
April 18, 2005 |
From its phosphorous backlighting to its glue-huffing swirls of orchestration, Moby's Friday night show at the Electric Factory - from the very start - was filled with good old rock bombast. Having witnessed the electronic-based Moby take on hardcore punk (the unfortunate Animal Rights) and minor-key piano-pop (his heavenly new Hotel) meant I wasn't unprepared. Rave king, techno-glam guy, gospel-tronic maven - despite his jovial, somnolent demeanor and quietly melodic, monotone voice, Moby has been all these things.
July 23, 1999 |
Moby is the spiritual seeker of techno. He's the devout Christian superstar deejay from Darien, Conn., with classical-guitar and punk-rock roots whose ceaseless search for human warmth within the chilly textures of electronic music has led him to Play (V2), his brilliant, sanctified new dance album. But the distant descendant of Herman Melville, born Richard Melville Hall, who plays the Theatre of Living Arts on Wednesday (with Moa opening), doesn't see his music that way, he says over the phone from the Manhattan apartment/studio where he works on his music "pretty much all the time: It's all I do. " "This might seem simple and naive," says Moby, 33. "But my only goal is to make music I love.
December 6, 1999 |
With Oasis and the Foo Fighters sandwiched between Beck and Moby, the five-hour Y100 Feastival at the First Union Center on Friday put a pair of old-school guitar-bass-and-drums outfits in the middle of two of the decade's premier shape-shifting musical mixmasters. Whether dancing like Gumby with a cherub's head or falling to his knees as his falsetto soared skyward, Beck was the principal attraction. Confidently fronting a soul-revue carnival with a three-man horn section, two female singers and a DJ, the towheaded Los Angeleno was well-equipped to put over the surreal funk of his new sexed-up party album, Midnite Vultures (DGC)
November 2, 1993 |
The fliers and posters that advertised the Halloween-night event put it succinctly - "Warning: Do not expect a rock concert. " Part of the See the Light Tour '93, the show Sunday at the Trocadero featured three of the better-known names on the techno circuit - Orbital, the Aphex Twin and Moby. Techno is an extremely high-energy form of electronic dance music usually reserved for raves and underground dance clubs. The genre is record- and DJ- based - its practitioners often make their recordings in bedroom studios - and does not lend itself easily to live performance.
February 13, 1993 |
Moby may be one of pop's shyest sub-stars, a low-key guy known to check the tensile strength of his T-shirts before slipping one on. But he's the epitome of positiveness. On Wednesday night at the Trocadero, he encouraged the young, hyped crowd to "Drop a Beat" - the name of one of his songs - ostensibly in place of dropping acid or ecstasy. Given the level of adrenalin and tribal bass that flowed through the Troc, dropping beats might really be a surrogate for drugs. The former punk rocker - and descendant of Herman Melville - put on a one-man supershow by stepping away from his trio of sampling keyboards and dancing furiously.
September 18, 2009 |
There are artists whom journalists interview once and they're done with each other. Little more can be said by either party regarding said aesthetic enterprise. Then there are guys such as the electronic music-maker Moby, who always have something new to say about something genuinely new that they've done. Like shifting gears from hard-core punk-rock to techno DJ to soft, sampling house-music maven. Or going from quietly making somnolent film scores to the brazen enterprise of 1999's Play, all of whose tunes got plucked for commercial usage.
August 1, 2002 |
Five years after Lollapalooza limped off the summer concert landscape, techno-pop wizard Moby has taken that all-day festival's original multi-genre, multicultural mind-set and fashioned it into something palatable for today's discerning music consumers. At a sweltering Tweeter Center on Tuesday, his Area2 festival (the follow-up to last summer's Area:One tour) was the rare mixed-bag affair that offered something for everyone while alienating no one. Early birds were just as enthusiastic toward Ireland's Ash and its bratty guitar-rock as they were toward the New York-based musical theater troupe the Blue Man Group, with its tribal beats, twisted heaps of plastic tubing as percussion, and trademark blue skullcaps and body paint.
October 29, 1993 |
It's midnight, and Moby - known in dance-club circles as the world's pre- eminent techno artist - is sitting in a small hotel room in the industrial city of Hanover, Germany, talking about his next single. "I can guarantee there's not a DJ in the world who will play it unless they want to drive people away from the dance floor," says the man who was born Richard Melville. A mighty strange career move for someone known as "the crown prince of techno. " Then again, Moby is more complicated than your typical dance music kingpin - even in the fast-changing genre known as techno.
December 14, 2002 |
Charges against Youree Dell Harris - also known as Miss Cleo, the telemarketing TV psychic - were dropped yesterday as part of a $44 million settlement between the State of Florida and her promoter. Harris, who hawked her psychic powers to millions, was charged with deceptive trade practices in a suit filed by the Florida Attorney General's Office. She was dismissed as a defendant after the settlement was filed in court. William Cone, Harris' attorney, said she was rejoicing and maintains "an active practice as a shaman.