A funny little thing called Dubstep

You can't say, "You probably haven't heard about it," anymore. In fact, you've probably heard it.

Dubstep dropped into Missoula like last week's storm, and it left an impression more lasting than your snowman.

"You can't really classify it," said University of Montana junior Brian Simensen, who mixes tracks on Soundcloud.com under the name Be Sly. "A lot of what people call dubstep is actually just techno or house."

Well, then, what is it? As far as sound goes, it's electronic music with a heavy bass emphasis, at about 140 BPM. As trends go, it's simply another experiment in a genre that prides itself on reinventions.

Simensen bought his first turntables over six years ago and has been part of the trends that moved from hip-hop and house to the more or less global sounds of dub and two-step.

"In the 90s it was drum and bass music," he said, and when that died out, new sounds quickly filled the niche.

In its current form, dubstep delivers what the people want to hear: quick breakdowns and expectable uncertainty. That, Simensen said, is true of electronica across the board. When crowds grow more restless and impatient, new sounds have to speed up the gratification.

Searching for a secure definition, the standout qualities of dubstep range from build-ups and bass drops, the wah-wah wobble of the bass, and layers of what can only be called "dirty synthesized noise."

"Synthetic sound, recorded sound — the things you can do with that is nuts," he said. "It's just a bunch of moving parts."

It can seem jarring to the occasional listener, but how often have you heard the statement, "Oh, I like everything, except for rap and country?"

"Why do you listen to any music you listen to?" UM junior Shane Cashin said. "Because you enjoy it."

Cashin took to dubstep because of his taste for drum and bass — dubstep's origin — and didn't look back.

"I like how the bass wobbles, I like that it's filthy ­— it sounds a lot different than what has come out for a while," he said.

It may be coincidence, but the rise of dubstep corresponded with the rise of touring disc jockeys. No longer relegated to a club and a specific set, Simensen said the past ten years gave electronic music new immediacy and accessibility.

Speaking of such, there's an 18+ show Wednesday at the Top Hat, bringing in dubstep acts from Denver and Reno, Nev.

The subgenre has already produced a branch of itself: brostep, most recently heard in the Wilma's hallowed halls via Skrillex.

But the term sub-genre is exactly what it sounds like — electronic music is full of tiny niches ­— and some tend to explode more than others. The most recognizable, house, is essentially what pop music is today, Simensen said.

The Milkcrate Mechanic, Travis Mendenhall, lights up the Palace every Monday night. Since 2007, Mendenhall and cohort/Palace bartender Tara Emery have hosted what he calls an "electronic open mic night," where local acts of all flavors come and go. He said it's been a great way to build the local scene.

"We're true to the zoo," he said.

Monday, it was vinyl night, a recognition of vinyl's importance in the electronic movement. Every week has a different theme, from hip-hop to anything goes, and next week ­— MAD Monday — dubstep takes over.

"Dubstep was the most popular Monday for a while, but more people have been showing up for the random sets," he said.

Simensen agrees that while it isn't dying, dubstep will move out like every phase before it.

The end is beginning, but it's never a bad thing.

"It's nice to hear something different," Mendenhall said.

brooks.johnson@umontana.edu