A phone conversation with the man called Scanner is by default
an awkward exchange, especially when aware that his stage name is
an allusion to the knob-twiddler’s infamous phone-scanning
antics.
“Until three years ago, I never had a home phone or a
mobile phone,” Scanner, aka Robin Rimbaud, said in a phone
interview. “It’s a great irony that I’m now using
the very device I get my name from.”
Electronic composer Rimbaud’s early tracks were
constructed from fragments of cell phone conversations picked up by
his trusty handheld scanner (available at any local Radio Shack).
His controversial voyeurism earned him monikers like “sonic
spy” and “telephone terrorist.” Rimbaud will
infiltrate the Veterans Wadsworth Theater on Saturday at 8 p.m. to
perform a live, improvised score to Jean-Luc Godard’s 1965
futuristic film noir classic “Alphaville.”
“Basically “˜Alphaville’ influenced everything
from “˜Blade Runner’ to a lot of the science fiction
films during the late ’60s and early ’70s,”
Rimbaud said. “You’ll see and hear the film, but
you’ll also hear a live alternative soundtrack to the film. I
try to build a parallel between the ways I work and themes held
within the film ““ information in the future and
technology.”
The London native is astounded by the mobility of today’s
workspace, allowing him to transform a hotel room into a recording
studio. With his laptop computer, he can manipulate the recorded
dialogues into techno masterpieces.
However, remixing random voices is only part of Rimbaud’s
musical focus. This digital-medium artist has always been
interested in sound, textures, mood, location, geography and space.
According to Rimbaud, the background is just as important as the
foreground.
“I realized after a while that I was deeply interested in
the sounds around the conversation,” Rimbaud said.
“When you see photographs of people, you also have a look and
see where they’re actually located. You judge an image also
by the background, not just the person in it, but the landscape or
soundscape around it.”
Although the experimental soundscape artist never intended to
spark any debates about privacy and security, he said that he is as
much a voyeur as the next person.
“If anything, at least a debate was opened,” Rimbaud
said. “Is this right or is this wrong? Is there such a thing
as a private space anymore? Ten years ago, people weren’t
really thinking through these ideas as much. If anything, I
certainly made people a lot more paranoid, which was
good.”
Rimbaud has worked with various visual artists, writers, poets,
video makers, songwriters and pop singers partly because he does
not see himself as an expert in any field.
“Collaborations are great because people generally look at
the other person instead of me so I can relax a bit more on the
stage,” Rimbaud said.
Since his career began in the mid-1990s, Rimbaud has been
critically lauded for his otherworldly music. The Moby look-alike,
whose only job before composing was as a librarian, has been
thinking outside the box for as long as he could remember.
“We used to have to do a course called
“˜Careers,’ which is the most depressing thing in
school,” Rimbaud said. “Do I really have to stick into
one of these boxes? For some reason, I just sensed I would not be
following the usual pattern. I’m one of those really annoying
people you can’t type up in one sentence. I’m a
post-industrial nomad, a minimalist anti-hero. Goodness knows what
I am.”