Chicago native and experimental musician/producer Benn Jordan, best known for the spastic, breakneck beats and emotive melodies he composes under the alias The Flashbulb, has been meticulously crafting a progressive electronic sound for the better part of a decade. Prolific in output, Jordan has released more than a dozen albums and EPs on boutique labels like Metatone, Alphabasic and Sublight since emerging on the IDM (intelligent dance music) scene in the late 90s. While Jordan himself admits the lifestyle of a bedroom producer is by no means glamorous, the creative autonomy it affords him is a crucial detail echoed in his music.
“It's impressive and pathetic at the same time I suppose,” Jordan says, referring to the somewhat cramped environment where he chooses to create music. “Most of my gear is in my small bedroom. There were points where I'd have to sleep on the floor with my head in the pillow of a bass drum or share my bed with a keyboard. I work really hard at keeping music as my life, not a hobby or job. That way it's easy to do whatever I want, whenever I want to do it.”
A skilled classical guitarist in his own right, Jordan’s music benefits greatly from his background in theory. Weaving together a dense arrangement of samples, live instrumentation, and programmed beats, The Flashbulb’s albums rarely sound alike and often shun the notion of being self-referential.
In 2005, Jordan released Kirlian Selections and Réunion, two albums that may very well represent the future of IDM. The seemingly effortless way in which Jordan combines organic instrumentation and production machines is a feat rivaled only by contemporaries like The Books and Telefon Tel Aviv. Spare acoustic guitar melodies are offset by glitchy, syncopated beats and droning basslines; resonant, reverb-drenched piano chords foreshadow 200 bpm drum breaks and sitar-laden melodies.
However—tireless work ethic and boundary-pushing innovation aside—crafting the perfect song, and being able to survive because of it, is what keeps Jordan moving forward.
“For me, there's really nothing even remotely as rewarding as writing the music,” he says. “When I was younger I never really dreamed of having tons of fans or lots of money. I just wanted to write music and not have to flip burgers to support myself. When I work on stuff now, I always pretend that it's never going to be heard by anyone.”
This article originally appeared in the Pittsburgh City Paper in February of 2006.