By Rebecca Bulnes
By Lee Zimmerman
By Rebecca Bulnes
By S. Pajot
By S. Pajot, Liz Tracy, Kat Bein, & Sean Levisman
By Kat Bein
By Ashley Rogers
Moby has, however, found some salvation in the majors' fervent signing of electronica artists over the past couple of years. Hoping for a Seattle-esque jackpot, every electronic artist worth his bleeps was scrutinized and rigged by nearly every big record company (of course in the end, only a few of those records -- Prodigy's, the Chemical Brothers' -- amounted to anything chartwise).
"I thought the feeding frenzy was kind of exciting, because there is so much diversity in the world of electronic music, and I thought that perhaps out of that some good records might get made," he says. "What I think went wrong was that major labels were expecting something akin to the grunge revolution of the early Nineties. And the thing with that was that bands like Nirvana and Soundgarden were quite conventional, in the sense that they made records that had verses and choruses, and were very vocal-based, and they went on tour and made videos and did interviews. So it was sort of easy to sell millions of records with bands like that. But with electronic artists, they tend to be a lot more idiosyncratic and a lot more difficult to market in a conventional way." Reflecting on the relative commercial successes of some of his peers, he adds, "I think [other electronic artists] have similar interests [to what] I do, but they're probably just smarter. When you buy an Underworld record, you know what you're getting. They're consistent and good records, and they don't run the risk of confusing or alienating their fans. Every time I put out a record, I run that risk."