Ten Cyberfunk hits you already know
A "bluffers guide" to understanding the sound
Any time a truly new sound coheres, some will argue, in an assertion of their own personal authority, that it is not truly “new”—it has precedent. I can recall, personally, observing this tendency in virtually every new permutation of rap music, and in the rise of dance genres like UK Funky and amapiano. Reading innovation as a search for novelty quickly leads one off the trail of how genres become rooted within a community. The more extreme gestures of a sound are not its only meaningful ones. Indeed, if the goal were to discover truly new “shapes” in visual art, few artists since the first cave painters would qualify as “innovators” in any meaningful way. The goal is not to discover new shapes, but to rearrange them in interesting ways, at different sizes, through a distinct lens, and for an audience.
It must be odd to read about genres such as cyberfunk and ponder how something could be “lost” or “marginalized” yet retain such highly visible exemplars as discussed in this list. But I’m less interested in the creation of “new” ideas than the way existing ideas remain blurry in the background, seldom the focal point, even when widely exposed to the world. If people had truly no precedent for this music, it would remain illegible. Cyberfunk is ‘lost,’ but that doesn’t mean forgotten. It’s deprioritized, treated as the texture of ‘80s action movies or cartoons, video game music, the soundtrack to forgotten high school subcultures. Here are a few examples of how cyberfunk broke through, songs everyone knows which should help you triangulate a rough understanding of the aesthetic through your existing knowledge.
These are songs which by and large are unlikely to appear in Time to Make the World End volumes past or future. Their familiarity means they’ve soaked in emotive associations which make their sonic character much less stable than songs which slid from view in the popular memory. However, they share sonic or thematic qualities with cyberfunk, serve as the tip of the iceberg to a sound which looms below the surface.
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five - The Message
It wouldn’t take much convincing to persuade people that “The Message” is the greatest rap song of all time. It is also likely the greatest cyberfunk song of all time. It launches four different figures of the cyberfunk canon simultaneously—arranger and keyboardist Clifton “Jiggs” Chase would arrange a large percentage of Sugar Hill Records’ releases, then go on to arrange and producer for Bobby Orlando’s “O” records, both strong sources of cyberfunk vibes. Ed Fletcher AKA Duke Bootee, the songwriter and session musician who wrote “The Message,” would continue to produce himself, would release his own album Bust Me Out, and start the Beauty and the Beat label, another key source of cyberfunk. And “The Message”’s guitarist Skip McDonald and bassist Doug Wimbish would join Sugar Hill house drummer Keith LeBlanc to form cyberfunk ne plus ultra group Tackhead, becoming the house band for Tommy Boy and releasing a series of seminal singles in the mid-1980s. They are also one of my favorite bands of all time.
Prince - Sign O’ the Times
Compared with his contemporaries—Michael, Madonna, George Michael, etc.—Prince is easily the most cyberfunk superstar of the mid-1980s, in a way some could argue actually undermines the case that the genres is underestimated. Yet I’d contend that his dominance within the category is partly what obscures the many styles and creative techniques that were percolating in his shadow in that time. In some ways, examining cyberfunk might deflate somewhat a dilettante’s presumptions regarding the singularity of Prince’s sound in the period; the cultural flow was not one-way, it went back and forth, and Prince’s ideas did not always leap fully-formed from his head. Here we uncover the cultural texture in which Prince begins to make a greater sense. Though perhaps initially disillusioning, ultimately being more aware of Prince’s creative context should bring listeners closer to where he left his distinctive stamp on music, disabused of meager illusions of “originality.” On the whole, Prince’s songs are far too well known to qualify as “cyberfunk,” although “Sign O the Times” is so dead-on we would be remiss not to include. There are, hidden within Prince’s deep catalog, songs which qualify as contemporarily-relevant cyberfunk records, but we’ll leave those to the future.
The System - You Are In My System
“You Are In My System” is a singular record which was so good that, in spite of its mild chart performance (No. 64 on release in 1982) it feels as if its been a recruited for numerous reassessments and record-collector genres (ie “Boogie”) for many years now. I wouldn’t be surprised if I heard it in a Starbucks. Therefore, hard to imply that we’re “rediscovering” this one. Its claim to cyberfunk claim, however, is partly in its innovative use of a drum machine. Keith Leblanc famously heard the record, saw the crowd’s reaction in concert, and quickly realized his job—as drummer for Sugar Hill Records—would soon be obsolete. For inspiring LeBlanc to become a drum machine guy alone, this is canonical cyberfunk. To keep things fresh, in a cyberfunk set, we advise spinning the Spanish version which came out soon after its original release in 1982. I would consider this record an official start to the cyberfunk era. Alternately, Robert Palmer’s cover is enjoyable as well, albeit not quite on the level of the original. Palmer is a source for some cyberfunk classics as well.
Run-DMC - Rock Box
A lot more to talk about when it comes to Run-DMC and Larry Smith specifically. There is no figure more important than Larry Smith in the pantheon of cyberfunk producers. He is the alpha, the omega, etc. Arthur Baker’s somewhat backhanded compliment of Rick Rubin in a 1986 Village Voice article (“He picked up on what Run-D.M.C. were doing already and sold it back to them”) summarizes what makes “Rock Box” such an important song. Here was a record which already did what “Walk This Way” would do two years later, and—from a creative standpoint, though maybe not a commercial one—better. This is a perfect cyberfunk record by any estimation. Its presence, however, in Grand Theft Auto: Vice City gave the song a second life which makes it a bit more “obvious” than it might otherwise have been. Nonetheless, Larry Smith is a legend in the cyberfunk game and we have plenty of ground to cover here in future posts.
Yello - Oh Yeah
One of my favorite affects of mid'-80s pop music, now seemingly left behind forever, is the deep voice guy saying something catchy or chant-able. This is the apex of that, but due to VW commercials and its reputation as “the Ferris Bueller song,” has been pretty widely exposed at this point.
Ministry - Every Day is Halloween
Speaking of deep voice guys saying something catchy and chant-able, “Every Day is Halloween,” the goth national anthem, is one of the best, funkiest songs of the mid-’80s and was, for years, the main go-to song when people asked for good halloween party music. (Ironic because it’s pretty dismissive of Halloween as a special day). Although it is sonically well within the cyberfunk wheelhouse, and Ministry is responsible for infinite cyberfunk anthems, this song’s concept is definitely more ‘goth’ than ‘cyberfunk,’ and as such not really their most cyberfunk record, but it’s likely their most well-known single. We will return to discuss Ministry many times.
Schoolly D - PSK
Amazing song of course, the production is archetypal cyberfunk. Its use on Biggie’s second album, though, gives it a patina of mid-’90s rap canon respectability that makes it “a little obvious” for any DJ mixes and perfect for this list. Though Souisxie and the Banshees’ 1991 hit “Kiss Them For Me” is slightly outside our mid-’80s window, its use of PSK does nonethless make it a solid cyberfunk release.
Herbie Hancock - Rockit
For years a touchpoint of scratching as art. Pretty kitschy song, creative music video. Honestly, though, I struggle a bit with mid'-’80s Herbie—this is music that is quintessential cyberfunk aesthetically, but in terms of creative vision and songwriting, mid'-’80s Miles I’ve found a lot more rewarding, a bit less shallow in its incorporation of technology. Some of this might be an ambivalence I hold about certain Bill Laswell involved projects. Both, I think, have better records than “Rockit,” though, which we’ll touch in in the future. Still, a pretty essential piece of popular cyberfunk.
Cat Stevens - Was Dog a Doughnut?
Great song. Not much to say about it, Yusuf fka Cat Stevens was ahead of the curve on this one. What a cool record. Very well known, though.
World’s Famous Supreme Team - Hey DJ
The breakdown from 3:30-4:00 is raw uncut cyberfunk in its essence. This song was, obviously, sampled to great effect on Mariah Carey’s “Honey” (alongside the Treacherous Three “Body Rock” bassline) which makes it difficult to see as much of a “deep cut.” But what a record. The vocals are from an uncredited singer named Ah’yae—such a distinctive voice! Would love to know more about her. Produced by Stephen Hague who produced some cyberfunk but also stuff for OMD, Pet Shop Boys, and New Order’s “True Faith.”