As we watched The Range, aka James Hinton, perform at (Le) Poisson Rouge a few hours after our interview, we were still reeling from the conversation, which had bled well past both its pre-established time limit and predetermined talking points. In our uninterrupted hour, the Providence-based producer's mind raced from mind-computer singularity to touring with Chvrches and Phantogram, from the physics of crowd engagement to actual physics. Which is no surprise––Hinton has a degree in the subject from Brown, and thinks about the math behind music more than your average producer. Not that you need to in order to get down to his latest EP, Panasonic, which incorporates elements of footwork, Jungle, and Baltimore Club for a result that's cerebral and danceable. Check out our conversation below, and don't miss his show at MoMA PS1's Warm Up this Saturday.
LIZ RAISS: How did you move from analog instruments to electronic music?
THE RANGE: I started really early on in Pennsylvania just doing like classic basement drums. Fortunately, I knew a guy that also did like multi-recording stuff. He was a bass player but he would record his own drums. I kind of just nicked his idea of using a Fostex tape machine to record myself and then played with that.
I read somewhere that when you’re composing you’ll start out on the piano?
Actually, my mother was a piano teacher when I was growing up, and I think there’s a muscle memory component that is a valuable part of physically playing instruments. Realizing you’ve developed these gestural things that are ingrained becomes part of your identity. When you’re pointing and clicking, it’s less intuitive. I’m not sure I want my music to ever be super performable, though, is the main difference.
Do you feel like as you’ve grown up you’ve realized the limitations of traditional instruments?
I think there’s this baseline of only having two hands, right? You just can’t really access a lot of texture and sound that involves more than two lines if you’re just playing as a drummer. You just don’t have enough limbs. I really appreciate the ability to make things that sound like they’re played by a different person, like a single will is behind each percussion line; when you’re playing manually, you just can’t access that.
Does that excite you—that idea of infinite possibilities?
Yeah, it does; though, I think the flip side is that the onus is on you to actually explore those spaces, whereas when you’re in a band, you’re not necessarily expected to. It’s exciting to have infinite time and patience to work on something, but there’s definitely a higher threshold. It doesn’t have to be flawless or anything but it does have to be super intentional and pushing boundaries. It needs to answer the question of why you’re on the computer.
Your work incorporates elements of Footwork, Jungle, and Baltimore Club. Are you concerned at all with preserving the integrity of these influences?
I think [my recent EP] Panasonic was really about that. For me, it’s part and parcel of sampling, like when you engage