By CATHRIN SCHAER
Just over a century ago, cowboys kept all kinds of things stuffed down their long, leather riding boots: Bowie knives, tobacco, untaxed liquor they could trade. Most of it was illegal contraband.
Hence from around 1898 the term "bootleg" came to mean something illicit. In these days of shorter, tighter footwear and baggier trousers, we no longer stuff bootleg into our footwear. Yet somehow, the latest incarnation of the word still has something of the bad cowboy about it.
Most recently bootleg refers to a relatively specific form of music, a brave new "scene" that considers itself to be involved in "the ultimate recycling of pop culture".
In the past, bootleg might have meant illegal or pirated copies of a certain band's tunes, maybe something that was recorded without permission at a concert or simply copied from an original album. But today, advances in computer technology, specifically easily accessible music-related software like Acid or ProTools, internet file-sharing services and boffins with too much time on their hands has resulted in a whole new genre.
It's called bootlegging, mash-ups or, even, bastard pop. And for good reason. What typically happens is these wannabe musicians take the instrumentals from one track and digitally lay the vocals from another over the top. They can also shorten intros, cut in other songs and generally match the rhythm, melody and underlying spirit of the two tracks.
The result? Oh dear, it's the bastard child of Kylie and New Order. Or what about the offspring of hip-hop's Missy Elliott with electro-art group Kraftwerk? Or Nirvana and Destiny's Child? Or Eminem and Wings?
The modern bootleg has already resulted in some strange couplings. In fact, the more unlikely the mix, the better it's considered.
But despite the new attitude bootlegging - or musical cutting and pasting - is not original. Hip-hop artists have been sampling other artists' work for years. Acts like Fatboy Slim, Moby and DJ Shadow are doing it as you read this.
In the 80s and 90s, avant-garde sound artists like Plunderphonic and the KLF made musical collages with everything from found sounds to top-40 hits. What's different now is that anyone with a computer and a bit of technical savvy can try their own bootlegs.
And they do. XFM is a London-based radio station that specialises in playing bootlegs. They, and the websites that offer MP3 downloads of bootlegs, are sent dozens of new mixes daily. Many are the results of schoolboy geniuses at work and are not quality listening.
But there are also some masters at work - the guys with the pseudonyms Richard X, Freelance Hellraiser and Osymyso spearhead the scene. The best bootlegs sound fantastic and manage to imbue an old pop song with a whole new sense of humour and life.
"You listen to them a few times because of the funny recognition factor but then something odd happens," writes British music journalist Tom Ewing in praise of one of the most successful recent bootlegs, where teen pop-vixen Christine Aguilera does Genie in a Bottle over the top of retro-guitar band the Strokes' track, Hard To Explain. The result: a new track aptly titled A Stroke of Genius.
"You realise that whenever you hear Hard To Explain start, you really want to hear Christina Aguilera singing and not Julian Casablancas. You realise that you can't even remember how Genie In A Bottle goes.
"And then you realise you're not listening to A Stroke Of Genius as two tracks any more - you're listening to it as a great, lost but somehow hyper-modern girl-group or Blondie record."
And obviously Ewing is not the only one who feels this way. Already a few bootlegs are doing well in the public domain.
The hippest DJs have been playing bootlegs in nightclubs for some time. Auckland dance music station GeorgeFM frequently play some of the most popular bootlegs. And last February Kylie Minogue performed a live version of the bootleg Can't Get Blue Monday Out Of My Head - her recent hit backed by New Order's Blue Monday - at the British Music Awards.
One of the scene's most revered bootleggers, musician Richard X, was signed to Virgin this year and in April his single became the first "pure" bootleg to go straight to Number One in Britain.
The track, Freak Like Me, was originally a combination of Adina Howard's r'n'b single of the same name and Gary Numan's synthesiser-heavy 80s hit, Are Friends Electric. But Howard wouldn't give her permission for the vocal sample to be used, so UK pop group the Sugababes were enlisted to sing the piece instead. Instant chart success.
So how does the music industry, still under attack from file-sharing sites like Napster and the ubiquitous CD burner, feel about bootlegs?
It's hard to tell in New Zealand as most of the scene is internet-based and international, but overseas some record companies are clearly opposed. A handful of British radio stations playing bootlegs have been ordered to stop or face legal action.
It took Belgian act the Dewaele brothers two weeks to make their bootleg and remix album, released as 2 Many DJs. But before that it took them almost a year of phone calls, emails and letters to license the music they wanted to use.
Even then they were only able to clear the album for release in Belgium, Luxembourg and Holland because of less-stringent licensing lawsin those countries.
Some major labels see bootlegs as a way of resuscitating their needier artists. For instance, the Sugababes and Kylie Minogue are both reaping the rewards of cool-by-association with bootlegs.
And it is possible to buy the odd bootleg at the record shop. For instance, in this country Can't Get Blue Monday Out Of My Head is on the B-side of Minogue's latest single. However, most bootlegs are free to download and can only be found online at sites such as www.boomselection.net, www.gohomeproductions.co.uk and the Excalibur Music Store (www.stervis.co.uk/eMS/).
Which brings us to perhaps one of the most interesting things about this burgeoning scene. For most bootleggers, cobbling together their musical patchworks is not worth a cent. Because it is almost impossible to make the music legally, there is no way you can make a living out of this, they explain.
"I don't make any money at all," says Mark, from the British-based Go Home Productions. "But I think if bootlegging became legitimate its whole reason for being would be destroyed.
"At the moment the whole DIY feel of the scene is healthy and in some ways a throwback to the punk attitude in the late 70s. By this I mean: 'Form a band, sod the record company, two fingers to the establishment, just do it yourself'."
Despite the growing popularity and acceptance of bootlegs (and therefore the potential demise of that punk attitude), Mark suspects that for him it's always going to be a labour of love.
"The moment I've put two tracks together and the unexpected vocal kicks in, that's the thrill," he says. "Sometimes it can work really well and you end up making something totally unique, and that's why I continue to do it." So is he really just a frustrated musician with a big computer?
"Yes, I was in a band in the early 90s which nearly made it. So I suppose you could say this is my revenge on the music business!"
Mutant music madness
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