Back to the Future

Unlike the armchair social critics of postmodernism, who are long on observations but short on solutions, Perry and Jackson intend to effect change through their art. In fact, much of the Memory Systems package comes off like a sendup of the staid, noncommittal electronic music formula. The group's explicitly stated agenda, its attention-catching look, and its ambitious multimedia show all seem like the antithesis of a DJ in a sweat shirt hunched over the decks in the back of a club. Not surprisingly, Perry and Jackson don't have much connection to the mainstream dance scene. Neither went through a clubbing phase, and the main reason they started "Synth" was to offer a respite from the straight-lipped, four-on-the-floor world of house music. Even Jackson's use of a bass in performance is mostly theatrical -- it actually just triggers a synthesizer -- since the prop is meant to evoke the kind of live performance entity that the isolated, machine-fiddling producer was supposed to replace.

But a cynic might argue here that the type of electronic music Memory Systems purveys is closer to the contemporary ideal of form over content than a statement against it. Indeed, the group's songs are either entirely instrumental or include what Perry calls "intentionally Bubblegum" lyrics. The pair did have one tune that overtly explored some of their ideas, but they decided to ax it because it sounded like a Dead Kennedys homage.

"We settled on a less heavy-handed route with the music," Jackson says. "We decided that it would be too limiting to present a message that strongly. So the music is there to be enjoyed on its own, but for people who notice that there's something else going on, they can research into some of the ideas we're putting out there. It's more the approach of offering a piece of candy that's been attached to a string that we can then reel them in with."

On Memory Systems' six-song debut, Making Your Mind a Better Place to Be, recently released on the group's own Form Records, the bait is sugar-rush-gratifying indeed. Jackson counterbalances the emotive synthesizer tones and forlorn keyboard moan of the Cocteau Twins, Soft Cell, and Laurie Anderson with hiccuping drum machines that burp along to the infectious grooves of contemporary electro. For her part, Perry intertwines her voice with the mesh of keyboard lines, dissolving her unintelligible words into wisps of atmospheric melody.

"We're really into sweet, poppy, fun music," she says. "We don't want to overload anyone with critical theory or become another Negativland."

So maybe Memory Systems proves that video did kill the radio star. Perhaps content can no longer stand alone in our sound-byte-saturated age. Memory Systems has strategically situated itself at the nexus of high concept and quick fix, from which it's able to dabble in innocuous pop tunes and visual agitprop at the same time -- the old one-two punch perfected by groups like the Velvet Underground.

"Meaning can come in many forms, not just verbal and not just through lyrics," Jackson observes. "In the way that good abstract art can still say something to you, how it can affect you metaphysically -- that's what we want to achieve with Memory Systems. Even if someone walks away with just a feeling of something deeper, we've succeeded."