Moby - Play
To say that Moby, alt rock guitarist and epic DJ, owes his commercial success to one Leonardo Dicaprio wouldn’t be entirely untrue. To make such a claim in absolute seriousness would severely undermine Moby’s capacity as a musician, but the story behind his global recognition is loosely tied to the Hollywood heartthrob.
In 2000, Danny Boyle used “Porcelain” as the featured song for his teen cult drama The Beach starring DiCaprio in his first film appearance since The Titanic. The song became an immediate hit, topping charts in the UK and skyrocketing Moby’s career to the next level. “Porcelain” is the third track on Moby’s fifth studio album Play––a complete tour de force in American electronic music.
Moby showcases this eclectic intelligence in Play. The album samples a range of traditional folk, blues, and rap artists, including Bessie Jones’ “Sometimes” which appears on Play’s first track “Honey.” Other sampled artists are Boy Blue, Spoonie Gee and The Treacherous Tree, Vera Hall, and Bill Landford and the Landfordaires. According to Spin magazine’s Will Hermes, Play was “the high-water mark for populist electronica” and a “millennial roots and blues masterwork.” However, those of a younger generation do have qualms with the high praise that Play has been awarded, lampooning the trend in American electronica (a largely white musical demographic) of sampling music from this African diaspora. There is weight to these allegations, and indeed Moby’s Play can, in some instances, be rightfully accused of whitewashing the blues music it sources.
Still, Moby’s Play is, for the most part, just that: playful. It’s upbeat, often uncomplicated, and most of the songs feature balanced and satiating builds. Take “Porcelain,” for example, which features Moby’s vocals backed by a sample of vocalist PIlar Basso. The track’s dreamlike, psychedelic, and almost fuzzy quality mimics what an amp might sound like if it were actually submerged in water––in a good way. When heard like this, it's no wonder Danny Boyle picked it for the feature track of The Beach. It’s surfy, yes, and pop-y too. But take a look at the words, and the whole song becomes a bit more sinister. “In my dreams I’m dying all the time,” Moby sings after a long musical intro.
His voice sounds muffled, almost covered by editing, lending the track a sense of insecurity.
In 2000, Moby told Billboard magazine that “Porcelain,” and its pained, albeit incredibly short, set of lyrics was inspired by an ill-fated romance. "I was involved with this really, really wonderful woman, and I loved her very much," he explained. "But I knew deep in my heart of hearts that we had no business being romantically involved. So, it's sort of about being in love with someone but knowing you shouldn't be with them." Despite his closeness to the material, Moby himself was surprised that this particular Play song was the one to catalyze his global success. He personally wasn’t the biggest fan, especially of his own voice which he thought sounded mediocre at best. However, he does admit that “Porcelain” is a delicate, melodic antidote to some of the more aggressive songs on the album.
One such aggressor is “Machete,” which doesn’t so much invite its listener in slowly and playfully like many of Play’s other tracks, but throws them right into what seems like the middle of a hard-core techno throttle. This heart-pumping song comes right after a melody-driven and piano backed “Natural Blues,” one of the most popular on the album. Funnily enough, Moby told Rolling Stone in 2009 that “Machete” was “the only song on the record that was really fun to play live.” He says he reminds of that “late-80s EBM.” It’s a shock to the system for sure, but don’t skip “Machete” right off the bat if it takes you by surprise.
So what's the skinny on Play? Is it a new-wave take on the blues of the new millenia? A techno-infused ode to some of Moby’s favorite folk artists? A true feat of the American electrica? Or just some cool beats that made a guy more famous than he’d intended? The short answer is, it’s probably all of these things. However you scale Play, it is definitely an entertaining listen that may tickle the unusual fancy of those who don’t necessarily listen to techno music. This album has fit into my current queue quite unexpectedly, and now it’s a weekly go-to. Listen to Play in the car, on a run, or for a personal dance party. Either way, throw it on when you’re in a playful mood, and maybe you’ll surprise yourself.