“Who ever said that good or high art has to be deep, dark, intellectual and academic?”
horsegiirL
This potent question from horsegiirL, an artist on the Berlin-based label Live From Earth, cuts to the core of a pervasive misconception about art. For too long, a narrow, often elitist, definition has dictated what qualifies as “good” or “high” art, often dismissing anything that prioritizes joy, fun, or pure functionality. But the truth is, art has to be good, not by some predetermined intellectual metric, but by fulfilling its intended purpose. And for dance music, that purpose is gloriously, unapologetically, to make you dance. However, the rise of “fun” and “accessible” dance music, as championed by Live From Earth, also begs the question: are we sacrificing depth for instant gratification, and perhaps even catering to a less discerning palate?
The Essential Quality of “Good” Art
Regardless of genre, medium, or perceived intellectual weight, art must possess a fundamental goodness. This “goodness” isn’t about complexity or profundity; it’s about efficacy and impact. A good painting compels you to look, a good story transports you, a good photograph captures a moment. If a piece of art fails to achieve what it sets out to do, it falls short of being truly “good.”
This applies equally to a minimalist sculpture, a classical symphony, or a viral techno track. The value lies in its execution and its ability to resonate with its audience, whether that resonance is intellectual stimulation, emotional catharsis, or pure, unadulterated physical release. To relegate art that evokes joy or encourages movement to a lesser status is to fundamentally misunderstand the diverse and powerful ways art interacts with human experience. Yet, the push for widespread appeal in dance music can sometimes dilute the very elements that give it substance, potentially leading to a lowest-common-denominator approach.
Dance Music’s Primary Function: Making You Move (But At What Cost to Sophistication?)
For dance music, its goodness is intrinsically linked to its function: it has to be good for dancing. This might sound obvious, but it’s a crucial point often overlooked by those who judge electronic music through a purely academic lens. The pulsating rhythms, driving basslines, and euphoric melodies of a well-crafted techno track aren’t just arbitrary sounds; they are meticulously designed to move bodies.
When MCR-T drops “My Barn My Rules” and a crowd of 5000 erupts in euphoria, singing and dancing with abandon, that’s undeniably the art fulfilling its highest purpose for that moment. When DJ Gigola seamlessly blends unexpected genres, creating an irresistible groove, she’s demonstrating a mastery of her craft that prioritizes the dancefloor experience. The “fun, tongue-in-cheek sound” that Live From Earth champions is a deliberate artistic choice that taps into the primal human desire to move and connect.
However, the pursuit of instant virality and broad appeal, as seen with tracks like “My Barn My Rules” gaining traction on TikTok, can lead to a simplification of sound. While undeniably effective for packing a dancefloor and generating streams, does this trend risk flattening the rich, complex tapestry that techno and electronic music have built over decades? Are we trading the nuanced, challenging journeys of traditional techno sets for easily digestible, catchy tunes designed for immediate impact? The “Spotify generation,” as MRD notes, might seek a blend of everything, and they want music that resonates with their fluid, multimedia world. For them, a track that seamlessly transitions from Drake to gabber isn’t a conceptual experiment; it’s simply what makes them dance. This embrace of genre fluidity and focus on pure, unadulterated fun is precisely what makes Live From Earth’s artists so impactful, especially with younger audiences.
But this raises a critical question: is this shift towards “fun music” a genuine evolution, or a strategic pivot towards a more unsophisticated, less demanding listenership? The accessible nature of these sounds, often steeped in pop culture references and viral trends, might be particularly appealing to those new to electronic music, who may not yet appreciate the deeper intricacies and historical context of more complex techno subgenres. While there’s nothing inherently wrong with engaging a younger audience, a valid concern exists that such widespread appeal could lead to a dilution of the art form itself, prioritizing immediate gratification and surface-level engagement over artistic depth and lasting impact.
Ultimately, whether it’s a thought-provoking painting or a pulsating dance music anthem, the measure of art’s quality lies in its ability to achieve its intended effect. And for dance music, that effect is nothing less than pure, exhilarating movement. But as labels like Live From Earth continue to push the boundaries of “fun,” it’s worth considering what depth and longevity might be lost in the process of widespread mainstream acceptance, and if this “revenge arc” against the industry inadvertently fosters a less discerning audience. Is the democratization of dance music truly progress, or a pathway to artistic dilution, appealing to the lowest common denominator?