Wendy Carlos
Switched-On Bach

Essential History of Electronic Music 

III. Miss Carlos and Popular Electronics 

Electronics are a strange subject. They are examined and vivisected by the 20th-century Groupe de Recherche between an oscillator and a pendulum, between a theremin and tea with Cale, through a series of works aimed at following the path of concrete music of Gesang der Junglinge. Henry's Messe has just opened its doors in Europe's literary cafes, and on one side, it seems that electronic sound has already moved towards more modern and accessible peculiarities, while on the other, it is now accepted that electronics are still detached from the popular context. On the eve of the new musical revolution, the eccentric Beach Boys proposed the strychnine-like flavor of the theremin in the amusing Good Vibrations, but Californian jukeboxes were all intent on spreading the rock soul rather than the electrodynamic spirit of the ensemble: the 45 rpm is a global success, yet it fails as a promoter of electronic sound.

Yet it would be the West, both hated and loved, that would command the advent of electronic music in its new popular guise. In the ferment of a New York divided between old and new trends, Walter Carlos finds himself with Robert Moog's synthesizers in his hands and decides, purely by chance, to make them symphonic. It's the moment when genius transcends art, and in art, finds an answer to its questions: how to make synth electronics accessible? By recovering the lectio of the tutelary deities, naturally: in no time, Johann Sebastian Bach is shaped through the magmatic notes of the synthesizer. Carlos' intuition takes form in what turns out to be the first official document of popular electronic music: Switched-on Bach, a collection of excerpts of the master from Eisenach where classical and electronic merge into an experiment of admirable impact. It's 1968, an unsuspected year, when Switched-on achieves incredible international success: the world recognizes Bach in electronics, and, even more importantly, discovers electronics through Johann. An unlikely combination that connects classical and electronic, unexpectedly effective. Walter Carlos' choice is farsighted: in the Bachian exegesis booklet, there’s room for the classics of the German harpsichordist, in a repertoire that ranges from the Invention in Two Voices to the Aria, from the Prelude to the Fugue. Thus, with graceful mastery, the famous adagio of the Brandenburg Concerto No. 3 in G minor, the frenetic Invention in Two Voices in F major, the gentle Aria on the Fourth String find an electronic dimension. The effect obtained is seductive: Johann Sebastian's musical treasure appears in a newly intentionally stigmatized, moldable, and popular guise. It is perhaps the famous Cantata No. 147, Herz und Mund und Tat und Leben, that hands Walter Carlos the clearest and most unexpected success: the electronic version will surpass the original one, attributing to Bach's musical production a fascinating modern and, why not, prophetic dimension. The success of the work, enriched by other Preludes and Inventions is immediate, much clearer than what the actual peculiar study of the synthesizer’s resources would have been, the symphonic Well-tempered synthesizer shaped by Walter in 1969, before the new versions of the Brandenburg Concertos and the second anticipated collection Switched-On Bach 2.

Switched-On Bach is the first example of pure electronics with a popular impact, the precursor of all those works fully or partially electronic that will rely on an immediate musical figure to captivate the audience. However, in its most peculiar characteristic, the work finds its limitation: the reference to Bach implies the absence of a distinct identity of electronics. With Switched-On, electronic music is limited to form, it doesn't extend to material: the content is that of 18th-century classical music, and it's no coincidence that Carlos’ audience embraced the encores on Bach, neglecting the American's later, more experimental works.

It would take more years to discover the first true standalone identity of electronic music, but in less known circumstances and in other places...

P.S. = In this review, Walter Carlos’ name appears multiple times, differing from the actual name listed on most modern reissues of Switched-On Bach: the name Wendy Carlos, at the beginning of this chapter, refers to the title acquired by the American hermaphrodite for recognizing its belonging to the female gender occurring in 1972.

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