Alongside other underground music producers with ironic, tongue-in-cheek monikers like DJ Seinfield and Ross from Friends, DJ Boring has been hailed as one of the rising stars of lo-fi house, an emerging micro-genre that stands in opposition to the bright, gleaming perfection of studio-produced pop and EDM music. Instead, it pairs rougher and warmer lo-fi textures with dreamy and moody melodies to create bedroom studio quality house music, which generally does not do too well in a club setting.
DJ Boring's eight and a half minute "Winona" - "an ultra-deep treat full of deep space chords, analogue deep house beats and psychedelic TB-303 abuse” - is one of the most successful tracks from this new genre. The musician behind the moniker has revealed little to interviewers (that he has been making music since 16 years old, and that it is “a big part” of his life), but his approach is analogous to that of Blair Sound Design's:
“I do earnestly attempt to create thoughtful, engaging, or at least somewhat unique and fun dance music. I think my approach tends to reflect my constant state of contextual hyper-awareness – I might be sampling an offensively crackly electro bass record, awkwardly noodling away on my DX21, or digging through my library of N64 samples for a goofy vocal clip, but I’m always asking myself: ‘What does it mean if I put these two sounds together? Sonically? Historically? If I arrange it like this? Chop it like that? Why wouldn’t I? Wait, who would do this dumb shit?’ If and when I reach the answer of ‘Well, I guess I would do this,’ then I personally come closer to a feeling of authenticity, even if it sounds like hot garbage at first (or forever). This goes for my visual accompaniments as well.”
Scott Wilson, FactMag
"Winona" achieves a 'feeling of authenticity' by expertly utilizing spoken word samples from her 1999 interview with 20/20 (while the image used for the single art is from another interview in the UK). Ryder was 28 then - the same year she performed in and served as an executive producer for Girl, Interrupted (1999). As the poster girl for the 1990s and a mega-famous child actress who made her transition into adulthood under public scrutiny, Ryder was perhaps the best spokesperson for the anxieties and vulnerabilities of young women. The song opens with her recalling one of her early painful experiences as an aspiring actress:
'It is difficult to - to be judged, that to be reviewed as a teenager. I-I remember one casting director who later became a producer. Um, I was in the middle of doing a reading for her and she stopped me and she said “Listen. You are not pretty enough to be an actress. You have to find something else that you want to do”'.
The analogue deep house beats then pulse onward, as some moody chords resonate in the background. The melody repeats itself, as if stuck in limbo as a result of the casting director's statement. After a transition point at the 3:30 mark, another sound bite from Ryder's interview is heard at 4:10 ('I can’t answer the real question') and at 4:40 ('All I can tell them is it’s easy'). The song continues on with the introduction of the bass synthesizer (as Winona's face is replaced by a blank circle) until 7:19, when the first sample is repeated. The song comes to an end soon after.
Unlike other sampling-heavy tracks named after celebrities (e.g. Javelin's “Lindsay Brohan” and “Beyondce”), where the celebrity being referenced seems incidental to the music (at worst) or being referenced ironically (at best), 'Winona" appears to be making an oblique statement about feminine vulnerability: an issue particularly close to Ryder's heart when she acted and served as an executive producer for the film adaptation of Susanna Kaysen's 1993 memoir. The sample that appears in the middle of the track is actually taken from Ryder's reading of the first passage in the book:
“People ask how did you get in there [i.e. a psychiatric institute]. What they really want to know is whether they are likely to end up there as well. I can’t answer the real question. All I can tell them is it’s easy”.
Is "Winona" an act of musical empathy? An ironic commentary about notions of beauty, and premature judgments about an artist's future capacity for success? An embodiment of 90s nostalgia? I can’t answer the real question. All I can tell you is that it's easy to get carried away by its transcendent instrumentals and layered intertextualities.
