By Keith Walsh
It seems the soul-lessness in music that is so common is tied to artist intention. In its worst forms, soulless music employs electronic instruments, doubling up on the blandness, and cynicism. Some electronic artists today, desperate for recognition, grab at any chance for notoriety, satisfied with the illusion of protection from a closer look by judicious forces.
Early synth pop musicians were canny enough to avoid this. Kraftwerk was all kitsch, in a cartoon of a technological world. Bands like Depeche Mode, Yaz, OMD, Martini Ranch, and The Human League avoided this trap by putting actual coming of age emotions into their electronic sounds. This was actual drama. In one’s twenties, drawing upon this kind of emotion is rather basic.
It’s in mid life where electronic artists face a crisis of creativity. Ultimately it is a matter of finding the authentic voice. On my blog synthbeat, I sought out artists who presented real emotion, rewarding their authenticity with a little bit of press. If those who were in the game merely for fame and cash somehow got past my radar, it was by design. Either I was too naïve, too trusting, or perhaps there was something about that person that appealed to me or I was curious about.
I believe in a morality of art. I believe in honoring the author, in an age not far from where Derrida, citing Roland Barth, proclaimed the ‘death of the author.’ But technology is a double edged sword. Where it can shelter duplicity, cheating, ‘faketapes,’ it can also provide documentation for an ethical lever where you are compelled to be honest, authentic, and find actual emotional truth in doing so. It’s a win win.
I do not understand living in the past, or releasing a song about one’s former flame, unless it is a kind of meta textual presentation about growth rather than a honey pot addiction to an obsession. It is this obsession that would make a better topic for a song, rather than the actual adoration object herself. As much as I despise the darkness, I respect those goth artists who explore dark emotions with exaggerated realism and authenticity rather that those with faux sentiment that makes one cringe.
One of my favorite artists, Peter Gabriel, explored electronic music in the mid 80s that managed to maintain its soul. The Fairlight computer synth had plenty of organic sounds due to its architecture. Add to that that Gabriel embraced music of other nations, particularly unrepresented cultures, and you can understand how he managed to keep a claim on soulfulness. Another advantage that Gabriel has is the ability to let himself find strength in vulnerability. Maybe that’s because of his position, where he is situated safely rather than fighting against a world where a swagger seems obligatory.
On the radio today, in February of 2025, artists like Billie Eilish, Miley Cyrus, The Weeknd, even Justin Bieber, are creating electronic music that is all soul. Part of that is the advantage of youth. The deep psychological revelations of Lady Gaga are the appropriate fruits of introspection. The question all artists past their twenties might ask is how to tap into that truth and authenticity. For me, it began with looking at my sources of hurt, naming those emotions and experiences, often in a grand metaphor, then generalizing that outward to find others in the world having these same experiences. I switched to guitar, only learning it in my late forties, to get a new tone that encouraged a more emotionally realistic mindset. If you are an artist stagnating, changing your instrument, and expanding your emotional vocabulary are good ways to enter new realms of thought and understanding.
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