Keosz - Be Left To Oneself

Cryo Chamber: 2016

While cruising through the annals of Lord Discogs, I took a classic double-take upon doing my cursory research into one Keosz. A very plain, simple bio is provided, claiming him a “Drum & Bass producer and DJ from Trencin, Slovakia.” Wait, what? I’m holding in my hands a Cryo Chamber CD, with Keosz’ name on it. Be Left To Oneself, his debut with the label (and first LP, if The Lord That Knows All is to be trusted) is totally a dark ambient release. Maybe not so bleak and twisted as Cryo Chamber typically goes, but definitely music that fits the print’s manifesto. After scoping out some of Keosz’ early singles, yeah, there’s a murky edge to his sound; he’s less of a traditional junglist and closer to the realms of sparse, minimalist microfunk. And as ASC’s proven, it’s not such a large leap from that into ambient proper. Still, it’s a weird transition seeing an EP on Future Funk Music within the same discography containing an album on Cryo Chamber.

The guy in question is Erik Osvald, and if there’s a common link between all his material, it’s that of stark urban settings. Cities in decay, its folk left wandering abandoned neighborhoods and industrial districts, living an almost feral existence - though not quite in a post-apocalyptic hellscape. So, he’s seen Detroit then. Eh, they say the Motor City is on the recovery as of late? Hm, may have to soon come up with new shorthand for failing districts. How long before that Brexit thing ruins London, y’wager?

Right off the opening titular track, Keosz presents himself as something different from Cryo Chamber’s standard dark ambient and abstract drone - there’s actual melody! True, it’s cinematic and melancholic, another aspect of this label’s repertoire that I’ve occasionally come across, but it’s less the norm compared to the print’s regular roster of producers. Most releases I’ve heard play out as self-contained narratives or works of conceptual art, and I don’t get that sense from Be Left To Oneself. This is music in need of a short film or video game to support it; score pieces that are perfect in setting the mood for something specifically visual rather than leading your imagination to do the visualizing for you. Keosz does offer some guidance in his track titles - Forlorn, Traitor, Insecure, Clearance, Before The End - but these are all quite ambiguous for an album released on a label that’s ace at painting vivid scenery. Maybe amorphous feelings are all there is to it, the title taken as literal interpretation.

At nine tracks in length, and only one breaking the six minute mark (not even reaching seven at that), Be Left To Oneself plays out rather briefly too. Still, there are plenty of lovely, orchestral passages scattered about, especially in the latter half with chants and rain morphing into static. Keosz definitely sells the mood of a lost soul wandering a city gone to waste. How Burial of him.

A Cryo Chamber Collaboration - Azathoth

Cryo Chamber: 2015

A compilation where a label’s roster contributes new tunes in support of a theme? It’s been done. A lot. Almost a prerequisite for psy trance prints, and no doubt among synthwave’s lasting legacies. For sure dark ambient does this plenty too, including on Cryo Chamber a few times. At some point though, label head Simon Heath postulated the quandary: “Can we do more?” Why yes you can, t’was the answer, presenting a collaborative concept where folks on the roster all contributed to a single, long track rather than several separate ones. My, how very prog rock of y’all!

Seriously though, this was an audacious idea, bringing in about a dozen Cryo Chamber artists and associates for a single composition. How do you even get everyone in the same studio for that? You technically don’t, hence where the internet comes into play, linking everyone’s own studios. So this is a lengthy jam session then, with everyone playing their own drone for over an hour? No, that’d be horrible, and rather pointless, twelve dark ambient producers reduced to a cacophony of black noise.

Best I can figure, the Cryo Chamber Collaboration concept is like shared online stories, where individual authors contribute a few paragraphs or chapters, with the narrative picked up and carried on by another until the piece is finished. Now that… that is a damn cool idea, and one I don’t recall being attempted in music! Oh, I’m sure it has been done, probably with IDM wonks or jazz maestros, but this is the first time I’ve come across it. And I would have picked up the first Cryo Chamber Collaboration too, if it hadn’t been based on possibly the most cliché dark ambient critter out there, Cthulhu. That’s like making a trance tune based on a sunrise, or a house track about Jack.

Still, the project was successful enough to warrant a sequel, which gives us a double-LP effort based on the granddaddy of Lovecraftian horrors, the famed all-consuming, chaos-dimension spanning, tentacle space-monster, Azathoth. Hey, that’s cool – He’s kinda’ like one of my favorite characters from Marvel VS Capcom, Shuma-Gorath.

Azathoth brings in over twenty producers to the table. Some I’ve talked about (Alphaxone, Dronny Darko, Sabled Sun, Ugasanie), some I will talk about (Halgrath, Apocryphos, Cryobiosis, Randal Collier-Ford), and some are totally new to my ears (Therradaemon, Neizvestija). I can’t say I’m familiar enough with each artist to identify when one’s contribution ends and another begins, though you definitely notice changes in sounds, tone, and craft as each piece unfolds. CD1 essentially deals with arrival in Azathoth’s realm, mostly desolate space and foreboding menace. CD2 has more activity going for it, and thus far more unsettling passages as it plays out. Not recommended for napping music.

If you’re looking to get acquainted with Cryo Chamber’s brand of dark ambient, Azathoth isn’t the best starting point. Better to take in a few of the roster’s solo releases, then discover how all these disparate musicians meld their twisted minds into one.

Bill Laswell - Axiom Ambient: Lost In Translation

Axiom: 1994

A curious double-LP, this one, though not for any of the music within. As this is a Bill Laswell ambient dub album from his peak ambient dub music making years, you can bet your bottom dollar it’s filled with swirly sounds, jazzy grooves, ethnic samplings, and that bass tone. Nay, what’s rather confounding about Axiom Ambient: Lost In Translation is exactly what sort of release this is. There’s so many collaborations on here, such that I wonder whether ‘Axiom Ambient’ could be construed as a project name rather than an album title – it wouldn’t be the first time Mr. Laswell took on an unique moniker for yet another venture with his huge evergrowing population of associates that rules from the center of the bassworld.

Oh yeah, The Orb is on this album. It doesn’t clarify which member of The Orb is here though, and as this is a ’94 release, it could very well be a member that most definitely is no longer a member, and will never again be a member, so help him Gaia. On the other hand, it could have been Dr. Paterson dropping by Laswell’s house for a toke-n-smoke, fiddling with some effects overtop Aum while enjoying the buzz, then giving his blessing to use The Orb brand for marketing purposes. Who’s in charge of that stuff at head Orb office anyway?

Plenty more folks Laswell knows through the rock, jazz, funk, and world-fusion scenes drop by too. Many you probably know: George Clinton, Bootsy Collins, Pharoah Sanders, Buckethead, and Tetsu Inoue. Lesser number you may know: Jah Wobble, Terre Thaemlitz, Eddie Hazel, and Sonny Sharrock. And if you’re familiar with Ginger Baker, Nicky Skopelitis, and Liu Sola, well damn, Mr. John Peel, how are things in the Afterlife? Some material is remixed from other Axiom releases (including Material), but mostly we’re dealing with all original music here.

There’s a lot about Axiom Ambient that can come off terribly pretentious at first glance. Each CD features four extra-long tracks, separated into movements themselves. That Orb collaboration, Aum, has four segments alone, titled Soul Searcher, Praying Mantra (Second Attention), Tarab Scan, and Ritual In Transfigured Time. If you think that’s a bit much, the liner notes have two pages going on about the mystical healing nature of world fusion ambient within a heightened global consciousness. Hey, fine if you vibe on psychik chakras and that, but most of it comes off as ostentatious waffle to my eyes, and rather dated to ‘90s alt-life optimism.

Fortunately, it’s what’s going into my ears that matters, and Axiom Ambient is a surprisingly immersive experience once it gets going. Laswell displays plenty skill and finesse, melding the various contributions from tons of talented musicians into a trippy, relaxing journey. Orchestral swells, mystic chants, guitar jams, techno thumps, calming drones, Far East winds, and best of all, none of it feels like superfluous meandering. Go figure that the longest Laswell album I’ve covered is his most engaging from front to back.

Various - Artificial Afterlife Compilation

Aphasia Records: 2015

Perturbator’s dope and all, but is there more to synthwave than this maestro of retro-pulp sci-fi scores? Plenty more, absolutely – in fact, almost too much, the burgeoning scene flooded with more imitators and knock-offs than even the ‘80s offered. It’s such an easy entry level now, what with little need for investing in full-scale synthesizer studios. And with digital means granting easy distribution, even you can craft and share a soundtrack to that Miami Sonic Squad neon-grindcore art film long gestating within your noggin’! Yeah, sorry, but I learned my lesson very early with OCRemix what ‘fan enthusiasm-minus-creative ingenuity’ often leads to. I’ll continue trusting the time-honored gatekeepers of music with this genre, the hard-copy manufacturers.

Still, I’m clearly selling synthwave short if I don’t dig at least a little beyond the top-tier talent. Like, the label that gave Perturbator his break, Aphasia Records. Maybe they’ve gathered an equally awesome roster of producers, a couple of which have also found success in the physical format. No such luck with that last one, Aphasia strictly a digital print – there’s a reason why James Kent ended up on Blood Music for a run of collector’s vinyl, tapes and CDs. And I’ll never get over my aversion of paying real money for music in an un-physical form so… Oh, wait, what’s this? A free compilation album? Well shit, son, I’ve no problem paying that as an Aphasia sampler. Let’s scope out some Artificial Afterlife then.

The compilation opens with Jovian Giants from Dynatron, a Danish producer who’s had some success with Aphasia. It’s not hard to hear why, this track very much in the Perturbator mold of slow, methodical synthwave that has you imagining all the epic sci-fi city-scapes of your classic anime dreams. VHS Glitch – who’s also responsible for many a piece of synthwave cover art – plus Neon Rebel also provide music in this vein (darksynth, I think? Yeah, this genre already has about a half-dozen splinters). Cannot deny this is my favorite style, most of the artists making it with a clear vision in mind. It’s less homage and more evolution, which is what future-leaning music should always strive for.

Then there’s the stuff that’s totally aping the ‘80s, right down to all the chintzy attributes we snigger at three decades on. Sebastian Gampl’s A Wave Goodbye sounds like an infomercial backer, September 87’s Man Eater features a saxophone solo, and we get at least two guitar solos from Photosynthesi’s Sometimes and Phaserland’s Lightspeed Defender, all presented in that tinny, hokey ‘80s palette that was rightfully jettisoned once the decade ended. Other tunes go for the chipper synth-pop feel (Starforce’s Infinity, ForeignBlade’s Under Suspension, Sellorkt/LA Dreams’ Keep The Score), which are cute enough as peppy diversions.

If anything, Artificial Afterlife confirmed my suspicions regarding synthwave. It’s a genre that shows flashes of brilliance, but is a glimmer too often lost in the overbearing neon glow so many producers are fixated on. I’ll stick with Perturbator, thanks; maybe Dynatron too. They remember the hearty grit.

Flowers For Bodysnatchers - Aokigahara

Cryo Chamber: 2015

Dark ambient isn’t all atonal synth work and creepy sound effects - some of it uses honest-to-Cthulhu real instruments too! Folks feeling the modern classical mojo can find comfortable nesting grounds here, provided they don’t mind exploring abhorrent aspects of the human condition. Considering Silent Hill’s massive fanbase though, I’m certain classically trained pianists, cellists and glockenspielists with a taste for the sinister side of their craft exists in droves.

Duncan Ritchie is one such chap, emerging from Cryo Chamber’s ceaseless roster expansion as Flowers For Bodysnatchers with this debut album of Aokigahara. He apparently got his start making dark ambient of the industrial sort, as part of a group called The Rosenshoul. Lord Discogs draws a total blank on such a group, but even The Lord That Knows All can’t keep track of every short-lived industrial project (capital effort though!). I guess the harsh electronic edge that form of dark ambient goes wasn’t to ol’ Duncan’s taste, as Flowers For Bodysnatchers makes ample use of pianos, woodwinds, cellos, chants, and even taiko drums for this particular album. For sure he still utilizes eerie field recordings, moody pads, and discordant effects that can set the hairs on the back of your neck on edge, but never to the detriment of his classical approach to this sort of music. And besides, it’s not about the tools used in dark ambient that matters, but whatever story or theme the artist achieves with them.

For those who don’t know (erm, I had to look it up), Aokigahara refers to a particular forest near the base of Mt. Fuji in Japan. Already a rather creepy gathering of densely packed, moss-covered trees, it’s gained a reputation as “the suicide forest”, where many a depressed individual goes to ponder their existence, feeling empty and alone in an indifferent world; a place to end it all, whatever ‘it’ might have been. Despite this, Aokigahara has become something of a tourist attraction for those seeking out macabre locations on our globe, with plenty of stories, folklore, and music inspired by its reputation.

Ritchie explores the process of succumbing to Aokigahara’s black embrace with this album, tracing the melancholic isolation that would lead one to the journey deep within such a foreboding region. The opening pieces Prisoner Of Night And Fog, And There Is Darkness, and Field Of Ink has a gentle timbre of pianos echoing off the emptiness within these tracks. Kuroi Jukai and There Will Be Lies makes use of Japanese traditional instrumentation as tension mounts within this narrative. Things seem to fall apart for our protagonist in Night Heroin, the longest track at nearly twelve minutes, which includes piercing drone and extended periods of sickly, viscous sounds of black bubbling. From there pieces alternate between modern classical compositions, creepy field recordings, and industrial drone – things aren’t looking too bright in this journey. Still, given the comparatively tender tones of The Games Foxes Play, some release must have been had. No, wait, the tone’s changed. Oh dear…

Nacht Plank - Alien

Carpe Sonum Records: 2016

I’ve dabbled a bit into the music of the man behind the moniker of Nacht Plank, one Lee Norris. He’s one half of my introduction to Carpe Sonum proper, Moss Garden’s In The Silence Of The Subsconscious, plus he’s paired up with a couple other names I’m familiar with (Mick Chillage as Autumn Of Communion, Ishq as Ishqmatics). Yet that’s barely scratching the surface of this man’s total output. As Nacht Plank alone, Alien is something like his fifteenth LP, not to mention a half-dozen assorted collaborative albums along the way. Then there’s another dozen or so albums as Metamatics, a bushel-full of material as Norken, and a couple items under his own name as well. The man is remarkably prolific, is what I’m sayin’, and to just casually walk into an album like this one is extremely difficult. Dammit Jim-Bones, I need more musical foundation to work with if I’m to tackle Alien proper-like. How can I know whether all this abstract, minimalist ambient experimentation is the long-term Nacht Plank stylee, or just some flight of exploratory fancy on Mr. Norris’ part?

Actually, judging from his prior work, I’m pretty sure the analog experimentation is the Nacht Plank modus operani. The name alone has me thinking along the lines of Mille Plateaux or Raster-Noton material, and a quick dabbling of his earlier efforts under the moniker reveals plenty of ‘challenging’ sounds. Heck, Alien at times comes off rather nice and soothing compared to the audio assault I heard off my samplings of Broad Tape Band, though remaining firmly in the realm of abstract weirdness as such a title warrants.

What this album mostly reminds me of is the electronic sound experiments of krautrock, which isn’t too surprising considering Mr. Norris makes use of actual gear (“no computers used” the inlay proudly proclaims). Opener Arrive has me thinking of Phaedra-era Tangerine Dream with its outworld atmosphere, while follow-up Clone uses intermittent sci-fi effects as a lazy, soft synth worms and oozes about a sparse setting. Some tracks are rather short, like the gentle tones of Comune and noodly muted pads of Peace. Others reach for significant lengths in the double-digit mark, Re Kreation being the longest of the bunch at over thirteen minutes of droning tones and distant field recordings, plus a touch of Moog diddling towards the end. Closer Vision clocks in at just under twelve minutes, and has the only thing resembling a rhythm on here, what with its bobbing pulses laid underneath droning, minimalist pads. This is explored further into electro territory with a Bandcamp bonus remix (Vision (Quick Thinking)), another lengthy number at over fourteen minutes. It’s interesting, but definitely much too chipper compared to the moody tone the rest of Alien cultivates. I accept its download bonus status.

This is hardly an easy album to get into, but I doubt Nacht Plank is the sort of project with doe-eyed dance music fans in mind. If you dig ‘70s weirdness though, give Alien a try.

Boards Of Canada - Twoism

Music70/Warp Records: 1995/2002

I have difficulty thinking of Twoism as part of the official Boards Of Canada long-player lexicon, for no better reason than it initially wasn’t. After the rousing success of Music Has The Right To Children, it wasn't long befor legions of new fans with melted youthful hearts were digging for anything else from the Scottish duo. Savvy heads already knew of their initial EP on Skam, Hi Scores, but word soon spread of a treasure trove of older, ultra-rare material lurking in the shadows of obscurest realms. Some of these are so rare, their very existence is continuously called into question - considering a lack of bootlegs or credible internet uploads, not an unfounded notion. The web always finds a way of unearthing music, always.

For a brief time, Twoism was among these mythical artifacts. Story goes the early Boards recordings were limited to tapes circulated among family and friends, but Twoism received a slightly larger distribution via vinyl. Mind, this was still self-released on their Music70 print, with a mere one-hundred copies pressed, but at least there were confirmed physical records out there, exchanging collector’s hands for pounds of quid (that the saying, right? Help me out, Brits!). Well, these Boards Of Canada were having none of that – why should the trader’s market profit from something they themselves could make bank off? Thus, Twoism saw a proper re-issue on Warp Records, sending those who took out mortgages to own the original wax weeping into the English moors. Or not, those initial pressings undoubtedly still commanding ridiculous sums from the discerning collector. Still, how nice us plebs get to enjoy this music too.

Given the near-cultish fanbase Boards Of Canada developed, it’s no surprise this was a highly sought record. Fortunately, such digging efforts were rewarded with an album that captures the Boards spirit as capably as any of their other LPs. For sure it’s more simplistic compared to what came after, most of their beats the barest of hip-hop rhythms. Meanwhile, the melodies stick to basic, lengthy loops of layered synth and timbre, with very little songcraft exhibited beyond what’s established early in a track. Still, those synth tones… every bit as warm, fuzzy, charming, nostalgic, day-glowy, and other descriptors you’ve read countless times in a BoC review. I could probably eat up my entire self-imposed word-count rattling them all off.

A couple things differentiates Twoism from their later work though, most notably the tracks Iced Cooly and Basefree. Both harkens to IDM’s earlier years, the former a bouncy electro jaunt, the latter an abrasive drill-beat number that sounds unlike anything in the Boards’ official canon. Still finding their way, clearly the lads from Hexagon Sun are. Also, the sound quality of their productions is rougher here, but that’s expected of an early album.

That’s all I have to say about Twoism. It was an album deemed ‘must-have’ back when it was rare as unicorn shit, and thanks to the Warp reissue, everyone can have it. Yay!

Various - Two A.D. (Volume Two Ambient Dub)

Waveform Records: 1995

There was a time, long ago, when I’d be ecstatic having this CD. It was a simpler period of my life, when everything from the underground was new and mysterious, musical artifacts waiting to be unearthed and enjoyed with virgin ears. That was a brief time though, my initial enthusiasm over discovering Two A.D.’s existence waning as it seemed forever out of grasp. Never mind I could have mail-ordered the darn thing at any time - limited funds as a teenager compelled purchasing decisions towards practical items. Besides, after checking out the tracklist via online means, I realized I had a number of these tracks already.

Two efforts from A Positive Life - Pleidean Communication and Aquasonic - were featured on his Synaesthetic album, plus Tortoise from Higher Intelligence Agency came from Freefloater. On top of that, Biosphere’s Baby Interphase and Coldcut’s Autumn Leaves are featured on Two A.D., which I also already had on other compilations. Never mind they were totally different versions – far as I was concerned, that was half of Two A.D.’s tracklist already in my hands. The desire to get Waveform Records’ second ambient dub collection faded further.

When I spotted this in a used shop, I picked it up out of a sense of obligated completion. By this point, I’d also added Groove Corporation’s A Voyage On The Marie Celeste and The Irresistible Force’s famed rub of Autumn Leaves to my coffers, with Sound From The Ground’s Triangle soon to join ranks as well. That essentially renders Two A.D. almost entirely redundant among my CDs, save three tracks. Let me tell you about those three now!

Two A.D. opens with a debuting single from The Starseeds, Behind The Sun. The project would have some minor success in the realms of trip-hop, but this Deep Ambient Mix is pure cosmic, mystical bliss. Way later in the CD, Human Mesh Dance show up with Sunken Garden, a way-minimalist, ambient dub groover of a track. Following that is Late Night from Insanity Sect, a brothers duo so obscure that this is one of their few appearances within Lord Discogs’ archives. Even their album on Beyond, Manisola, had a limited run of one-thousand copies. This particular track is very minimalist too, almost drone-dub with soft, lethargic rhythms. The Starseeds cut is quite nice, but the other two are rather standard far as ambient dub goes, decent little filler pieces for a compilation of this sort.

If I’m giving a blasé impression of Two A.D., that’s no fault of the CD itself; hearing most of these songs in a different order just isn’t so exciting for yours truly. As a compilation of ambient dub though, this is quite good. Obviously some stone-cold classics are on here in Autumn Leaves, Baby Interphase, and Triangle, and it’s all arranged for a nifty listening experience: blissy openers, bleepy acid middle, groovy ease-out. It’s another solid primer of the genre from Waveform, exactly what the label set out to accomplish with these.

Ferry Corsten - Twice In A Blue Moon (Original TC Review)

Flashover Recordings: 2008

(2016 Update:
Welp, so much for cautious optimism from the Ferry Fan Camps. Not only did he fully completely jump on the arena house bandwagon, but he did so in such a wacky way with Markus Schulz, you wonder if he was having a mid-life crisis regarding his DJ career. I get the reason for that whole New World Punx thing - what better way to capitalize on the ballooning festival market than as a 'supergroup' a la Swedish House Mafia - but man, did the PR for the 'project' ever look ridiculous for a couple of the scene's elder statesmen. Yeah, totally we can hang with the kids at these mega-events - they like cartoon ninjas, right?

That Corsten would abandon trance isn't a surprise though, as everyone with scene clout had to if they wanted to keep their profile high in a changing market. Nor am I surprised that ol' Ferry is inching his way back to trance now that the gravy train has started showing signs of deflating, most notably testing the waters last year with a new Gouryella single. Or maybe this was his plan all along, lure the kids in with modern cheese, then unleash his vintage cheese upon them, the cheese that you do so well. Who knows, though it leaves this album in a weird no-man's land between Corsten's different eras of music making. Does anyone even remember anything off Twice In A Blue Moon?)


IN BRIEF: Back on form, but…

When Ferry Corsten’s newest album - Twice In A Blue Moon - opened with a dull deadmau5 thunk-clap-thunk-clap beat, I instantly feared the worst. Although the famed Dutch producer had been accused of running dry on fresh ideas in recent years (even by our own resident Ferry apologist J’, no less!), you still believed he would never jump on a bandwagon. Yet, here he was, offering up a just-better-than-average mau5 tune with Shelter Me. The plodding rhythm, the bare-bones melodic execution, the bland effects: Zimmerman staples, all. Could it be that Corsten had succumbed to the pressure of following trends, that his days as innovator truly were long gone?

It’s funny. Despite opinions on Corsten’s music being contentiously split between fan and foe, folks seldom disagree on the merit of his ingenuity – after all, he made his name by being a leader in his chosen field. So when he appears to have become a follower, one can’t help but feel saddened by such a notion. You continuously root for the innovators to keep innovating, as they are the ones that push the arts into interesting new directions – even if you don’t personally enjoy it, such artistic evolution still creates a positive reaction in that it spurs discussion. In short, many may not have liked what Corsten did to trance, but damned if they didn’t like talking about it. If he’s become a mere trend-jumper though, then what’s the point in discussion?

All of these musings played out in my head for about the length of time Shelter Me played out in my player; which, despite a half-decent melody somewhere in there, should tell you how interesting the track is. The over-prominent thunk-claps continue into Black Velvet; fortunately, unlike typical deadmau5, Corsten writes a pleasant song featuring a rather inspired vocal outing from Australian singer Julia Messenger (given his years in the profession, you can count on Corsten being a stronger song-writer than the guy wearing a mouse mask). From there, I realized that my initial worries were for naught, as Corsten gets ‘contemporary’ only one other time, with the double-effort in Life - Doorn production (re: boring beats with non-climaxes; very anti-Corsten, really) coupled with whiney male singer.

The rest of this album finds Ferry going more to his popular roots. Aside from one last 80s gasp with the italo-inspired We Belong (which uses elements from the old hit Happy Town by Fun Fun), Twice In A Blue Moon features a good deal of simple euro-trance with energetic beats, the kind of sound many fell in love with when they were discovering the Dutchman at the turn of the century. Whether it’s because he’s grown nostalgic for his glory years or simply decided to provide what his fanbase prefers from him is open to debate. Bottom line is if you’ve been pining for the Corsten of old, you’re going to get a good amount of enjoyment out of this album.

For those who haven’t, however, you may end up approaching Twice In a Blue Moon more cautiously. In going back to the late 90s, there isn’t much here that is groundbreaking either. Corsten’s style has long been of simple punctuality, and the tracks on this CD don’t break rank from that; the melodies are mostly straight-forward and cheery, though hardly standout. Tracks like lead single Radio Crash and Brain Box feature prominent big hooks which will easily lodge in your head, although Brain Box will undoubtedly draw Zombie Nation comparisons (and what’s with that silly big horn blast? I swear I thought it was a semi-truck outside when I first heard it blare out). Meanwhile, he follows a more traditional melodically epic path with Gabriella’s Sky, Shanti, and the titular track, with each of these featuring a different twist on the formula: serviceable break-beats on the first, far-East vocal sampling for the second, and melancholy baroque with the last. These three tracks are easily the best on the album. Oh, and the final ‘outro’ track sounds like one of those piano interludes you might hear on an Enya album – again, whether that’s good or bad will depend on your preference for such musical doodling.

Unfortunately, much like his previous efforts, Corsten’s vocal offerings remain typically generic. Aside from the aforementioned Black Velvet, none of the singers provide anything memorable. Well, Maria Nayler kind of does, in that it has that cool vocoder effect on her voice, but her lyrics are rendered moot by it – she might as well be singing, “I’m blue, da ba dee!” Betsie Larkin, an obscure singer-songwriter from New York City, makes her major debut here with the other lead single, Made Of Love, yet another by-the-book vocal euro-trance cut. For those who can’t get enough of playing sing-a-long while jumping in one spot with their hand in the air, I’m sure this track is heaven – me, I take it as my cue to fuck off to the bar (especially so with the oh-so cliché supersaw breakdown, though thankfully kept brief here).

There isn’t much to fault with Twice In A Blue Moon, but neither is there much to highly recommend either. Aside from a few instances, it comes off like a rose-hued nostalgic trip to Corsten’s memorable years - which, of course, isn’t such a bad thing. However, Ferry’s music has always been generally limited in scope (big, epic, anthems! …umm…), and such limitations remain as apparent as ever.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2009. © All rights reserved.

Carbon Based Lifeforms - Twentythree

Ultimae Records: 2011

Considering how often I big-up Carbon Based Lifeforms as one of Ultimae Records’ key acts, I sure don’t talk about their actual albums much. In fact, this is only the second full-length from the duo I’ve gotten to, the first being their debut Hydroponic Garden a whopping three years ago now! Still, it’s not like they have a vast discography compared to other famed Ultimae alum’, Twentythree just their fourth album in a decade – Solar Fields released about twice that amount in the same period of time. After this, all that’s left in CBL’s catalog is Interloper and World Of Sleepers, one of which I don’t have (no points for guessing which one). Oh, and companion piece to this album, VLA, though as that’s a digital-only release, odds are that’s gonna’ remain absent from this blog for the foreseeable future. Then again, I hadn’t counted on still being at this back when I did Hydroponic Garden either. The future: as mysterious as the infinite black above.

Just as we remain lonely in the cosmos, Twentythree stands isolated among its Ultimae peers, the label’s lone drone ambient full-length. For sure there’s examples of such works scattered throughout Ultimae’s catalog – Asura’s last LP for them, Radio Universe, was about half drone alone. Hybrid Leisureland, Cell, and CBL member Daniel Ringström (as Sync24) can get downright minimalistic in their songcraft. To go an entire CD runtime with barely a beat or hint of a rhythm though, it just hadn’t been done on Ultimae before or since. Guess that’s at least one necessary ambient sub-genre off the bucket list.

Naturally, recommending yet another drone ambient album is a tough task for yours truly, but CBL bring their subtle skill with acid to this peace-out party. Opener Arecibo does the standard layered pad work you’d expect of blissful, expansive space music, but with a touch of the TB-303 bubbling in the background, the track retains enough of a distinct sound such that it’s not lost in the slush of yearly drone. Indeed, the subtle acid remains a common attribute throughout Twentythree, even if only as faint as a radio signal from deep space. Follow-up pieces have other minute features, should you be in the mood for a studious playback. System is eerie and dark, with distant, spritely dub effects. Melancholic Somewhere In Russia makes use of field recordings, prog-rock guitar tones find their way into Terpene, Inertia harkens to a primeval time, and VLA (edit) gets proper dark in a way that Cryo Chamber would approve.

Through it all, Twentythree truly sucks you in, such that when the heavy use of earthly field recordings and dubbed-out wind chimes of Kensington Gardens hits, it feels as though you’ve returned to this planet we call home after a long, lonely sojourn of the stars. What more fitting note to end on then, than the ghostly, melodic space ambience of Held Together By Gravity, astro-chatter echoing from a distant place we’ll never see with our own eyes.