http://www.npr.org/blogs/therecord/2011/05/27/136718287/detroit-techno-city-exporting-a-
sound-to-the-world

Detroit Techno City: Exporting A Sound To The World

May 27, 2011

by Wills Glasspiegel

Carl Craig says he's always thought of his music as "a personal
beautification of Detroit."

This Memorial Day weekend, techno music and its fans come home — to
Detroit — for the annual Movement Electronic Music Festival.

Today, most of techno's audience is in Europe. But its futuristic sound
was nurtured by African-Americans in Detroit in the 1980s. It all
started in the late '70s, when a Detroit radio DJ named Electrifying
Mojo put music on the air in a way that had never been heard before in
the city: Kraftwerk plus Jimi Hendrix; Rick James plus the B52s and
Phillip Glass – all on a spaceship.

Mojo's sci-fi persona dominated Detroit's urban radio back then. The
pieces he assembled became the raw materials for techno. Juan Atkins is
often called the first techno artist. In 1981, Atkins was 19 years-old
and technology-obsessed. He co-produced a song called, "Alleys of Your
Mind," on a rudimentary drum machine.

"Mojo dropped 'Alleys of your Mind' on his radio show and it just blew
up," Atkins recalls. "It was like a breath of fresh air on the radio.
And nobody knew that this was some black kids from Detroit making this
record. They thought it was from Europe or somewhere."

Through Mojo's radio show, the alien sounds of techno piqued the
interest of Detroit natives — but the music's largest audience quickly
grew in Europe.

"I'm fortunate because I exported my business," says Carl Craig, one of
techno's biggest ambassadors. "If I kept it in the U.S., we would have
failed a long time ago."

In addition to making his own music, Craig runs a record label he
started two decades ago in Detroit. Last year, it shipped nearly 20,000
vinyl records out of the city — 70 percent went to Europe. Craig is a
star in Berlin and Paris.

But in Detroit, his profile is low key, his studio an anonymous bunker
near a slew of abandoned buildings. "You go around the block from here,
there are buildings [where] the windows are blown out," he says.
"They've been abandoned for 30 years." Craig says he stays in Detroit
because it's cheap, but the city is also central to his creative
process. "My music has always been for me a personal beautification of
Detroit."

He's not the only one who sees possibility in the rubble. There's also
a small but steady stream of "techno tourists" who visit Detroit.
"We've had several people that have come from Germany, mostly from
Europe, specifically for the techno scene here," says Nicole Stagg,
who hosts visitors through www.couchsurfing.org.

They come to see the abandoned factories where techno parties happened,
and to visit Detroit's techno landmark, Submerge — an iconic label,
studio, techno museum and record shop on Detroit's east side. Label
manager Cornelius Harris says Submerge defies the negative trends in
Detroit and in the music industry itself.

"The key with being able to function in Detroit is not to look at what
it is, but to understand what's possible and to move from that place,"
Harris says. "People in music do it all the time. They do it every day,
which is amazing to me. You've got this thing that doesn't exist and
you bring it into existence. That's the definition of magic."

One of those musical pieces of magic, "Falling Up," by local artist
Theo Parish, could be a metaphor for Detroit. Parish is a torchbearer
for his city's music, but he hardly ever plays there. His regular gig
is at a club called Plastic People — in London.

Marlon Bishop contributed reporting to this story. Both he and
Glasspiegel are producing a radio documentary on Detroit techno and
Chicago house for Afropop Worldwide.

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