Music

Boogie Howser's Kirk Opheim on beatmaking in Alberta's wilds

by Mark Teo

The Galapagos effect, referring to the islands where Charles Darwin formulated the theory of evolution, is a term often used to describe the fascinating progression that occurs in isolated places. It’s an expression, too, that also neatly describes the cultural pockets of Alberta, a province bordered to the west by the Rockies, and to the east by seemingly endless prairie. To much of the country, Alberta feels desolate. Distant. Disconnected.

Yet in recent years, the province, and Edmonton in particular, has birthed some of Canada’s most thrilling beatmakers: There’s Born Gold’s Cecil Frena, whose 2011 LP Bodysongs was an immaculate collection of chopped electro bangers. Next, there’s Purity Ring’s Corin Roddick, an Edmonton native, who, after releasing one of 2012’s most-adored records in Shrines, is readying a collaboration with Danny Brown. Then, there’s the sleek-‘n’-sensual music of producer Boogie Howser, (https://soundcloud.com/cptnkirk) a.k.a. Kirk Opheim, who, like Frena and Roddick, also emerged from Edmonton’s D.I.Y. hardcore punk scene.

“I feel like Cecil and Corin have helped Edmonton get recognized big-time,” says Opheim. “The place has gotten so vibrant. People are getting inspired by each other and what everyone else is doing here—and we’re encouraging each other to do something on our own.”

That encouragement, for Opheim, began early. In fact, the genesis of Boogie Howser—and, as it turns out, Purity Ring—can be traced right back to his teenage years, when he played in Fuck the Tundra (http://www.myspace.com/fuckthetundra), a local post-hardcore band, with Roddick. “When Fuck the Tundra ended, I was just starting to experiment in Fruity Loops, and when Corin went on tour with Gobble Gobble [now Born Gold], he started working on his beats. I mean, Corin and I, we talked a little bit about Ableton, but we never talked too much about what we were doing.

“I mean, I spent a lot of time writing hardcore songs,” he continues. “And I started to get a little restless. I wanted to keep music fun, and I’d already had a serious interest in electronic music.”

Still, Opheim’s near-studious sound—which, as displayed on his debut EP, Carina Explore, can veer from glitchy future R&B to glossy boom-bap to late-night house within a single track—didn’t come fully formed. But his appetite for beat-based music grew quickly and voraciously: After a few years attending Shambhala, a B.C. festival known for being on the forefront of the bass world, Opheim needed to make electronic music himself.

“Shambhala was my first real taste of electronic music, and it opened up a whole new world,” he says. “I was obsessing over records and releases, and listening to so much on the Internet. And I needed to know how this music was being made. Then, my friend gave me a copy of Fruity Loops.”

It proved to be pivotal. While Opheim says he didn’t initially take his electronic creations seriously, he began to write in earnest after attending a Red Bull Music Academy music session in Calgary. From there, two things happened: He enrolled in Red Bull’s music program, connecting him to fistfuls of forward-thinking musical explorers, and he hooked up with Close to Modern, a Cowtown boutique label specializing in Alberta’s electronic underground.

With Close to Modern—a year-old label with buzzy releases from R&B duo Chief Navaho and Alberta house mastermind Dominic Pierce—Opheim found a like-minded community just south of his Edmonton home.

“It was mindblowing—I met the guys from Chief Navaho, (http://closetomodern.com/album/tourist-ep) and they seemed cool, so we exchanged Soundclouds. I was floored by how different and awesome they were,” says Opheim. “Then, I met Dom [Pierce] at Sled Island, [Calgary’s yearly summer music festival], and he was creating some really, really cool funk music. Then the label just gave me a shout and asked me if I wanted to do an EP with them.”

And that’s where Carina Explore began. It’s a collection, we suggest to Opheim, that’s perfectly fitting for the cultural omnivore: Boogie Howser’s relaxed night-drive vibe is equal parts relaxing, stirring, and headphone-ready. It’s a pastiche of musical references that can swing from modern hip-hop to sensual slo-jam R&B to sexy-as-fuck house. And it’s a blend that, even when he veers into dubstep territories, feels remarkably organic.

“I make bass music,’” says Opheim, “but I take influences from everything, and my tempos are all over the place, because I love ’90s R&B, cheesy new jack stuff, even lounge-y jazz stuff. I’m always searching through old R&B songs for new samples, though, because that’s usually where it all starts. So, I love the term cultural omnivore for my music — because I’m taking bits and piece from everywhere.”