Ciro Berenguer - Bruma

Slaapwel Records: 2020

I wish Slaapwel was more fruitful in their musical endeavours, rather than taking the Rip Van Winkle pace their sleep-based manifesto so religiously follows. They've released but three items since I last splurged on them (if you can call scooping up three CDs a splurge), which is about on pace for their 'one album per year' rate. Oddly, their latest one from Kreng + Svarte Greiner, The Night Hag, seems like something more suitable for a dark ambient print than one promoting a well rounded circadian rhythm. Sleep terrors, really? Good God, maybe I should just start springing for digital copies of Slaapwel's older, long out-of-print items. Ooh, The Boats...!

In the meanwhile, let's check out one of the few recent Slaapwel releases I did spring for, this here Bruma from Ciro Berenguer. According to Lord Discogs, he is ...um, almost nonexistent, it seems. The only other record to his name there is El Mar De Junio (Eilean 64), released on Eilean Rec. I'm not familiar with that label, though do recognize a few names there (James Murray, Twincities, Wil Bolton). They also apparently had something of a gimmick to their releases, strictly one-hundred items, based upon points on a map. Man, and I thought the collector's OCD was strong with Neotantra.

Digging a little deeper, I did find Ciro's Bandcamp, which has one other album, and contributions to other odds 'n ends scattered about. Seems more of a local talent within Barcelona's music scene then, a musician mostly content remaining on the periphery. I suppose that's why I found this write-up for Bruma so amusing: “Listeners familiar with Berenguer’s previous work will recognize his typical minimal style with fading, constantly evolving themes.” Just how big an audience does Mr. Berenguer have such that they'd immediately recognize specific musical traits anyway? Then again, it's not like Slaapwel Records, a tiny print based out of Belgium, would have potential audiences on the other side of the globe in mind when writing their Bandcamp blurbs. And yeah, that Eilean record definitely had some abstract minimalism going for it, a far gap of songcraft compared to the more traditionalist guitar folk LP he put out many years before.

In typical Slaapwel style, Bruma features a single thirty-five minute long track titled Los Entresijos De La Noche, or “The Ins And Outs Of Night”. It, too, mostly goes for minimalist sonic abstraction, gentle guitar plucks and manipulated xylophone tones as fed through tape loops and field recordings. At many points, the piece almost fades to nothing but echoing embers of melody, as though you're finally nodding off for the night. This being over a half-hour of improvisation though, the music does re-emerge for more tranquil bells and the like.

And if I'm honest, I have a difficult time keeping attention for the duration, the lethargic nature of Ciro's songcraft here extremely effective in lulling me into a state of synaptic inertness. Another successful outing from Slaapwel Records, in other words.

Lucette Bourdin - Breath Of Grace

Dark Duck Records/Fantasy Enhancing: 2012

Back to Bourdin, then. Huh, took a little longer than I thought it would. Like, a box-set with twenty CDs in it is gonna' take up hefty chunks of my alphabetical queue no matter where they're slotted, but I suppose it shows just how large the queue currently is regardless. Dealing with another box-set between Ancient Memories and this probably didn't help with the gap.

Breath Of Grace has the distinction of being the final album of Lucette's work, released well over a year after her passing. There's actually a number of such albums, including A View From Afar and the four-LP Nordic Waves set - yes, they're all accounted for in this box-set. While it's not surprising that she'd have some music in the vaults, I do wonder what the process in releasing the posthumous albums was. Were they already in the works, and just never got to see a proper release before passing on? Did someone within her estate cobble together assorted unreleased tracks on her behalf? I suppose it doesn't matter in the long run, but whenever we're dealing with ambient music of this sort, it's nice to have some inspirational frame of reference going in. Perhaps one need not delve too deeply into such concerns, but it cannot be denied her experiences offered a unique perspective on reflective music, tragic though it may be.

If there is a theme to Breath Of Grace, it's that of entering a calming state of mind. While opener Turbulent Seas maintains a typically droning style of ambient tone, it's far from a relaxing sort. Almost ominous with heavy, spacious synth swells, impossibly distant sounds echoing from the furthest reaches of one's memories. Always those nagging reflective moments, when gazing upon foggy coastlines through cottage windows.

Waters Of Life goes more minimalist, synth drone supporting burbly, dubby field recordings, letting you feel more lost in the moment rather than trapped in memory. Following that, the titular track is pure synth pad drone, layered to such a degree the timbre is rather muddy. Can't help but keep thinking of fog while listening to this. But hey, things seem to pick up a little with Quiet Cats, a lighter tone and brighter synths emerging from the haze. From there, tracks like Finding Peace and Setting Sun only grow brighter, the former even dipping rather close to the realm of New Age with its shimmering angel bells. The relatively short closer Remembering thus feels more like a coda to Breath Of Grace, having settled into some sense of tranquility despite whatever was troubling the self at the start. And hey, a little light Arabian synth noodling in the middle of it too.

I almost feel like I'm overselling this album, with such a expansive write-up of what goes on. Eh, gotta' burn word-count some way, but as far as ambient albums go, Breath Of Grace is a nice little offering of such. Will the rest of Lucette's works compare? Stay tuned...

Private Mountain - Blue Mountain

Neotantra: 2019

Fun thing about following labels will always be discovering new artists. True, I get these Neotantra albums because my OCD compels me to grab the gradient cover art, lest my CD collection look incomplete, but the music's usually pretty darn good too. And while many familiar names have released here, several more are complete blanks to me, my purchasing decision little more than having a good hunch over some audio clips. So it went with Private Mountain, a name I'd never seen before, but ooh, that's some nice, soothing, minimalist ambience coupled with field recordings. Sure, I'll give it a go.

Then I look into the names behind the moniker, ones Dimitar Dodovski and Toni Dimitrov. I'd love to claim I recognized them straight-off, but no way I could have, even if I have encountered Dimitar before. In fact, the project he was on was quite instrumental in opening the doors to where my ambient techno interests currently lie. It was a pairing with a chap by the name of Lee Norris, under the pseudonym Moss Garden.

Yeah, that Moss Garden. You'll forgive me for not immediately remembering that factoid, for Mr. Dodovski's career was still in a relatively embryonic stage back then. He's put out much music since though, including a team-up with Toni and Martin Geogrievski as Post Global Trio. They've put out some half-dozen albums now, but on the side Dimitar and Toni started another project as Private Mountain, this here Blue Mountain the debut.

Taking in some Post Global Trio works for a frame of reference, I can confidently claim that Private Mountain sounds quite similar, just lacking any rhythmic momentum. The abstract ambience, the immersive field recordings, the hazy feelings of memories past, wandering back road regions in solitude. Like, a hillside path, all to yourself. I just find it amusing that two-thirds of a mostly ambient project took it upon themselves to make extra-ambient music.

Opener Ainmount 1 mostly maintains a fuzzy, day-glo vibe, while Ainmount 2 opts for more night-time tranquility, a surprising contrast so early in the album. Usually you wait for the end to go twilight. The titular third cut really gets my Andrew Heath triggers going, early dronescapes gradually melting into sounds of idling about cottage dwellings. Just A Strange World gets a little fancier with the drone effects, while the eponymous track (longest at over twelve minutes) gives more of a Boards Of Canada interlude vibe. If BoC ever included sounds of running water while exploring deep caverns, sounds echoing across damp stone walls, that is. A tidy, tranquil closer in Coming Back Home wraps things up, and if you don't feel utterly blissed out after listening to Blue Mountain, I really don't know what else to say.

I suppose the only quibble I can offer is this album's rather short. Six tracks, only half of which break six minutes, doesn't feel long enough wandering this mountain. Pretty sure I said the same of Moss Garden too, heh.

Unusual Cosmic Process - Between Continents

AstroPilot Music: 2016

It's been a spell since I checked out AstroPilot. Let's see what he's been up to! *clickity-clickity clack* Ooh, started his own label. With lots of artists getting rep' on it. Most of which I'm not familiar with in the slightest. Welp, better get to it. *zzi-i-i-ip* What? That's the sound of me opening my digital purse to splurge on some new music. Why, what'd you think that bit of onomatopoeia was?

So, Unusual Cosmic Process (or UCP from here out, because whoof, that's a mouthful). This is a project from Alexander Akopov, who's been making music in the psy sphere for the past decade. A few aliases had some traction on Ovnimoon Records (Optical Report, Psypheric), but UCP has been the most fruitful of them all (so sayeth Lord Discogs). Makes some sense, this alias being his primary outlet for music on the down beat. Of the twenty items Mr. Akopov has released as UCP, the bulk are LPs. His early ones floated about different labels (Ovnimoon, Uxmal, Sentimony, Gliese 581c), but has mostly settled in with AstroPilot Music for the last while. This here Between Continents was his debut with Dmitriy's print.

Whenever a producer starts their own label, the tendency is to cultivate artists of similar style, so I wasn't surprised that UCP would sound somewhat like AstroPilot. I didn't expect his sonic palette to go quite so opulent though, exceeding even the cosmic grandeur of the Solar Walk series. Mr. Akopov says this album's meant to be something of a sight-seeing tour, taking in various vistas of our planet from its highest regions to its deepest depths, carried along by acoustic airships. Sounds like fun, and opener Acoustic Levitation certainly holds little back in its lift-off, wide-screen synth pads with spritely treatments such that even 36 would get weak in the knees. A psy-chill rhythm joins the action midway through as the track keeps building and building until... oh, it just kinda' ends on pads, a bit abruptly at that.

Wendall Sea carries on with the extra-ultra backing pads, with a heavier beat in support, but mostly plays out like the opener. Sekki opts for something a little more mysterious (bathyscaphe submersion will have that effect), while Atolla Wyvillei... gosh, this sure sounds a lot like Weddell Sea again, the same beat and everything. Granted, the psy scene often recycles rhythms, but this is practically a copy-and-paste here. Not that the tracks are bad, it's just a very apparent thing with two so close together in an album.

As Between Continents plays out, it never lets off the gas pedal in sonic splendour – even the Ambient Remix of The Clouds has an aggressively groovy bassline. It's almost too much, if I'm honest, seldom letting the listener take a breather, save at the start of every track. Imagine the tour-guide insistently telling you how awesome all these sights are, when I sometimes just want to lay back and take them in at my own leisure.

Robert Rich - Below Zero

Side Effects: 1998

I bought Equal Stones' Below Zero from Ultimae's online shop. When I received my order in the mail, I somehow ended up with two albums with that title, the other this particular item from Robert Rich. How did that happen? Did the folks at Ultimae HQ not know which Below Zero I wanted, and hedged their bets? Or did they figure, if I wanted one Below Zero, why not have another? This isn't the first time I got a 'bonus' disc from them either, the last time introducing me to Simon Heath's Krusseldorf project. That led me to some... interesting music tangents, believe you me.

And honestly, it's about time I dive into Robert Rich, isn't it? I've known of the man's seminal contributions to the minimalist side of ambient drone works for a while, but like others in this field (Steve Roach, Vidna Obmana), his catalogue runs vast and ancient. Where does one even begin with such a discography? Agreed upon classics? Multi-disc retrospectives? Blind leaps based on eye-catching cover art? Yes to all, but I'm starting out with the 'unexpected extra CD from online order' method.

I've also kinda-sorta stumbled upon a compilation at that, Below Zero a gathering of a half-dozen tracks from other compilations Robert contributed to. Simple idea, but quite odd in execution, as this comes care of Lustmord's industrial print, Side Effects. The two had collaborated for the Stalker album, but Rich was mostly a Hearts Of Space kind of ambient composer, with little dabbling in the darker side of the genre. There must have been enough stray works out there for such a collection as this though, but releasing it on Side Effects, a label shutting its doors so shortly after? Was no one else willing to do the deed of scouring obscure ambient compilations for Robert Rich material?

Anyhow, Below Zero opens with Star Maker, a multi-part cosmic dark drone piece lasting over twenty minutes that traverses cosmic desolation before morphing into something a little less sinister. Feels like we're bearing witness to the birth of a solar system, or at least its primary life-giver. Eleven-minute follow-up Dissolving The Seeds Of A Moment (apparently never released before) goes for the atonal assault of dark drone, the sort of sound that's right up Lustmord's alley. A Flock Of Metal Creatures Fleeing The Onslaught Of Rust and Termite Epiphany mostly follow suite, though are shorter excursions, and even have moments of respite in their runtimes.

Then things take a turn for the ...benign? I wouldn't go so far as to say Liquid Air is all calm and soothing as traditional ambient can go, some of the pad layers still somewhat discordant. That gentle keyboard tone though, acting like a settling rudder for the ominous feels lurking about, does ease the frazzle mind-state some. And despite a rather melancholic mood, Requiem's voice pad timbre almost sounds like an exhale of pent-up emotional tension. Goodness, a 'journey' album, out of a compilation? Wonders never cease.

Equal Stones - Below Zero

Glacial Movements Records: 2019

We inch closer to Proper Winter now, the weather growing ever colder in our annual tilt away from solar warmth. Yes, even my seasonally smug corner of the world. Atmospheric rivers aside, we've been extra cool 'round these here parts, dipping below freezing temperatures. Sometimes. Usually at around 4:14am. By about one or two degrees. Honest, that's unusual for us, plus counts as a tie-in to this album's title and theme!

Yes, in my ceaseless need to chill the f' out, I've taken the most logical step in scoping out another of Glacial Movements Records items, an album titled Below Zero. Why, it even has a derelict boat on the cover art! Well, maybe not completely derelict, but certainly in no condition to travel, ensconced within foggy frost as it is. Interestingly, despite growing up in a port town well into the northern latitudes, this is not a scene I'm familiar with. In fact, that town is somewhat famous for having one of the deepest harbours that never freezes year round, which is handy when you want to move cargo without running into hull-carving islands of ice. Now if only it wasn't located in such a remote part of Canada's west coast, maybe it'd have grown larger than it did.

Anyhow, Equal Stones. One Amandus Schaap, he started out making droney, melancholic ambient music for the obscure net-label Hidden Vibes. Well, not that obscure anymore, as a few noted names have had releases out on it (SiJ, The Green Kingdom, Chihei Hatakeyama, Halftribe). They also aren't strictly a net-label anymore either, having gained enough clout to offer limited CD runs as well. Equal Stones was there at the beginning though, and remained fairly exclusive to Hidden Vibes for half a decade. He started branching out into darker strains of the genre as Death Star, and has now (well, a couple years ago) hooked up with Glacial Movements for a conceptual album of ice-cold drone.

Below Zero opens up with Presence, and if that doesn't immediately trigger feelings of unease that lumbering icebergs are about, the bitter cold sounds definitely will. With sounds of biting winds and grinding ice enveloping your headspace, Amandus does an effective job in putting you in a most inhospitable of arctic clime's. Even Ugasanie would shiver.

It's mostly industrial drone-tone from here on out, which is fine for what it is, but I feel loses some of the album's theme along the way. It's not until the final sixteen-minute track Fragmented Ice that things get back to something truly icy. Aside from an intermittent 'exhale' from sickly machinery, we're treated to desolate white noise for many minutes. Discordant tones and flickering electronics gradually swell in prominence, even getting on some '70s style flange. It's like being isolated in some remote science station, adrift on islands of gravel and ice. And always that heavy exhale, as though the deep freeze makes the simple act of breathing torture. Maybe best to hibernate, for a while...

Various - Balance 005: James Holden

EQ Recordings: 2003

So this was one of the big ones. Even if the music didn't hold up (spoiler: it does), it cannot be denied how much James Holden's contribution to the Balance series marked a prominent shift in the way the prog-house series, um, progressed. Prior, each volume mostly stuck with the dark, tribal prog of the era, save a single CD flirtation of prog-breaks by Phil K. After, Balance became known as the premier DJ mix series, where disc jockeys could indulge themselves with unconventional sets. Not to say that happened all the time, but such a rep started here.

Beyond that though, James' set marked a radical shift in the scene at large, ground zero for a splintering that would be felt for much of the next decade. Not only did Balance 005 firmly state the old Bedrock Records sound was done and dusted, but gave us a taste of what was to come. Obviously the Border Community style from Holden and his cohorts is what gets prominent focus here, but there's ample examples of the sort of prog folks initially expected of James, and got co-opted by Coldharbour instead. Grumbly basslines, side-chained melodies, poppy vocals, and whatnot.

Nowhere is this more apparent than right in the middle of CD1. Leading up, there's still a sense of the dark, dubby prog lurking about, even if a track like Petter's All Together enjoys throwing some robo-clank into the mix. Infusion's rub on JASEfos' Do What U Want is pure proto-McProg though, with a big vocal supported by a rumbly groove, the sort of tune you'd almost expect Holden to lead into his own Nothing (93 Returning Mix). Instead, it goes into the twee electro-fuzz of Nathan Fake's Outhouse (Fluffy Mix), its rhythm nothing more than twitchy clicks n' pops. And while the more traditionally thumping original version follows, this debut from Fake is basically what Border Community would heavily promote for much of its run. As I say, quite the little moment of contrast in hindsight.

Anyhow, disc one plays out with more of this push-pull between old-prog and BC-prog. Cannot deny I tend to favour the old (mmm, PQM cut), but Holden ends things off pleasant enough. CD2 kicks things off with some sleaze house in Meek's Happy (because electroclash was still kinda' a thing in 2003), then we're right back into more dark, dubby prog, with twinkly melodies sprinkled about (Epsilon 9's Lifeformation; Ficta's Eli; Kosmas Epsilon's rub on FC Kahuna's Hayling ...why does it sound like my CD's skipping during the breakdown?).

There's some bits and bobs of other sounds thrown in (acid in his own The Wheel, future-shock electro in Carl Finlow's Ghetto Server ...was Anthony Rother not available?), and Holden takes a long lead-down for the finish, each track growing ever more chill and Border Community-ey after the other. I honestly find my attention drifting, but only because the mid-set peak was so high. I'm not ready to come down yet, Mr. Holden!

Derek Carr - Arrival

FireScope: 2021

Man, it feels good seeing Derek Carr getting his due. Not that I can claim to be some long-standing fan of the man's work, as if I've been listening to his music since the Copper Beech E.P. I only stumbled upon him by happenstance with The Digital Space Race, and while enjoyed that album, didn't reconnect until he connected with FireScope for Distant Systems.

He's released a fair amount of material between those moments, but it seems his profile's quite taken off since releasing Contact on Subwax Excursion (Model 500 artwork nod likely helped). Many EPs on many labels have since come out, plus a four-record retrospective on For Those That Knoe, and man, have the plaudits ever blown up on Discogs. Seems Mr. Carr felt it was a good time for a revisit to FireScope, a full LP outing in Arrival. Which means two vinyl records. Or two CDs etched with vinyl grooves. FireScope sure loves its FOMO-triggering mediums.

Let me get this out of the way: if you're familiar with FireScope's brand of techno tunes, there isn't much different going on here. This is a lane Steve Rutter's print has firmly made for themselves, and are resolute in adhering to their musical manifesto. Intelligent techno for our doe-eyed gazes into the future, rhythms for cruising interstellar highways, melodies for sci-fi city-scapes. I cannot deny hoping Derek would branch a little more from this, maybe provide a banger, or even an ambient interlude for a more complete album experience, but 'tis not to be. This is a label that still has traditional vinyl as its primary listening format (however many records that may take per release), which will forever lead to LPs being rather tracky as a playback.

Ehgh... I felt icky typing that, but it needed to be said, the little naggy knit in my head demanding it. For as much as I enjoy Derek's Detroit vibes throughout Arrival, I cannot deny it being a bit samey throughout too. For sure there is some difference between the two halves (or both records; or both CDs). If anything, the second part has more rhythmic heft, Haemoglobin providing a nice little trunk-rumbler of a bassline with its spritely melodies and floaty synth sweeps. Droidworld features a funky little bassline of its own in support of an almost melancholic musical lead, while Apollo does a laid-back low-slung shuffle while synth pads and future strings cruise about. Inside Out and MCR get more on vintage Detroit vibes, about what we can expect out of most Derek Carr tunes these days.

If it seems like I'm writing off the first half (sides A & B; disc one), don't get it twisted. I like it just fine, in that I like mostly everything out of FireScope. There's even some fun playfulness in tracks like Alaska Blue and Anoat System. I just felt things picked up when the beats picked up, which gets back to my annoyingly incessant desire for diverse long-players.

Council Estate Electronics - Arktika

Glacial Movements Records: 2016

Ah, it's good to be back in my familiar wheel-house: obscure ambient drone from an artist I have never heard of before. At least, I think that's my familiar wheel-house. Sure feels like it sometimes, especially after I discover a new label that piques my interest, going on a mini-splurge of material. Like this here Glacial Movements Records, a print that's been around for fifteen years now, housing such recognizable names like Rapoon, bvdub, and Celer. What good is such discovery without broadening one's exposure to new artists though?

So it goes with Council Estate Electronics, the sort of egg-headed alias that has me remembering such geeked out projects like Higher Intelligence Agency, New London School Of Electronics, and Institute Of Frequency & Optical Research. I have not a clue what this is all about, but tickle me intrigued for some polar drone with that kind of name.

Opening track Urals kicks things off on a rather brittle, dubby foot. A heavy, languid beat moves things along as distant percussion rattles in the distance, all the while what sounds like a muted fog horn pierces the murk. At nearly eleven minutes long, there's enough time for subtle tones and harmonies to weave about that noise, making the track rather laid back and chill for its runtime. Don't get too relaxed though, as follow-up 567 foot 33,500 ton goes quite abrasive, a noisy, buzzy sound dominating over another heavy, slow dub techno beat. Man, it almost reminds me of the industrial sonic grind from The Bug's collaboration with Earth on Concrete Desert. Say, who's behind Council Estate Electronics anyhow?

*one Discoggian dive later*

Hah! There is a connection after all! Turns out one-half of C.E.E. is Justin Broadrick, who frequently works with Kevin Martin under many aliases (Techno Animal, Zonal, The Curse Of The Golden Vampire, God). He's also been part of many industrial noise and death metal bands over the years, including founding Godflesh. There's many more, of which I'll be here forever name-dropping them all. Suffice to say, Justin's done a lot. Along the way, he paired up with former Godflesh member Dermot Dalton to make analog-based experimental music. Right, the background sorted, let's carry on with Arktika.

Actually, there isn't much more to say. If The Bug association wasn't a dead giveaway, we're firmly in industrial dub's domain. Big, cavernous beats, sometimes with distortion redlining way beyond reasonable levels (Rosatom, Polar Star), other times going as minimalist as dub techno of the '00s (Type LK-60YA, 60 Megawatts). 50 Let Pobody does a shimmery, cascading effect upon its dub treatments, while Liquefied Natural Gas edges out on the fringe of spaced-out reggae dub, but by and large, Arktika is mostly a clinical take on the genre. Just, y'know, performed in a noisy, industrialist sort of way.

Honestly, I'm quite surprised by this album, in that I had no idea Glacial Movements Records would also offer dub techno of this sort. What else might I uncover with this label?

Neil Young - Archives, Vol. 2: Disc 10 - Odeon Budokan (1976)

Reprise Records: 2020

What a strange way to end Archives, Vol. 2. True, nothing could beat the triumphant cap of Vol. 1 that included all the chart-topping and critically lauded Harvest material, but a live album? And not just a live album, but recordings from overseas shows in London and Tokyo? I guess in keeping with the 'three Performance Series per Archives' theme, we'd get one exclusive to the box-set like Live At The Riverboat. This wasn't separately released prior, and I see no official plans to do so after.

If the timeline is to be believed, these shows were performed after Neil had joined Stephen Stills in Miami for their Stills-Young Band sessions, but before abandoning Crazy Horse to tour with Stephen instead. So in the course of a couple months, ol' Shakey had travelled from California, to Florida, to Japan, to the U.K. and back to Florida. Long may you run indeed, but not if you're gonna' burn both ends while burning your friends along the way.

As this disc is a cobble-lation of two shows performed literally half a world apart, it's appropriately broken up between the two. Oddly, they're not in chronological order, the London shows first, followed by the Tokyo jams after. My only assumption here is Odeon Budokan wants to recapture the same sequencing as Rust Never Sleeps, acoustic numbers opening the LP, then closing out with Crazy Horse 'rawkers'. To be fair, that's how Neil's concerts with Crazy Horse went regardless, I just have no idea why all the acoustic material comes from Odeon, and all the rock from Budokan. Just a happenstance of where the better recordings were?

So the acoustic set has some familiar tunes (Old Man, The Old Laughing Lady, After The Goldrush ...I'm honestly quite burnt out hearing that one on these live albums), plus a couple then-unreleased songs in Too Far Gone and Stringman. What's funny about these is you can really tell the unfamiliarity of them with the London crowd. Exuberant cheers upon hearing the first notes of the recognizable songs, then almost dead silence with the other two, save a polite applause after they're finished. Considering they wouldn't be officially released until way later, I'm sure Neil got a kick out of confusing the casuals in the crowd with them.

I'm not sure how familiar the Japanese crowd was with the freshly released Zuma record either, but they seemed to enjoy the rowdy rockers just the same. They also get a version of Cowgirl In The Sand, which isn't quite up to the epic outing as heard on Live At The Fillmore East, nor as tight as heard in later live albums with Crazy Horse. It was Frank Sampedro's earliest concerts with the group though, so just needed a little more time to fully mesh. Either that, or this was one of the supposed shows he'd taken acid at. Oh, hippie-rockers, never change.

And that's a wrap on Archives, Vol. 2! Join me again for Archives, Vol. 3, due for release ...whenever it gets released, I guess.

Neil Young - Archives, Vol. 2: Disc 9 - Look Out For My Love (1975-1976)

Reprise Records: 2020

Full confession: the period between Zuma and Rust Never Sleeps is mostly a blank for yours truly. Granted, only two albums came out in that time (well, two and a half, but I'll get to that), with only two songs from them considered 'Essential Rustie Material'. One of them is the guitar epic Like A Hurricane, which I already have on the live album Weld, so no point in getting the scattershot American Stars 'n Bars just for that. The other is the country-leaning Comes A Time, from the album of the same name. I don't have that, but am not in any real hurry to ever get it. The tune's fine, just not on my 'must have' list, much less the record it comes from.

Disc nine of Archives, Vol. 2 doesn't reach quite that far though, capping this collection off in 1976. The first few tunes that open things are more Crazy Horse songs that likely would have featured on the vaporware album Chrome Dreams, including Like A Hurricane. Following that are two love songs, Lotta Love, and Look Out For My Love. The most surprising thing about these, at least for me, is they actually sound different from each other, Lotta Love more a loungy tune while Look Out For My Love inching closer to country.

Actually-actually, what's really surprising is Look Out For My Love was chosen for the title of this disc, and not just because Like A Hurricane is the more obvious choice. No, it's odd because this disc heavily features songs from the short-lived pairing between him and Stephen Stills, The Stills-Young Band.

Yep, despite quite the on-again, off-again musical relationship, the former Buffalo Springfield lads decided to give it another go in the studio. Story goes Mr. Stills was already in the works with a solo joint of his own, then had Neil over to hear some of the songs. Neil apparently got quite inspired with the tunes, such that he abandoned a tour with Crazy Horse to work with Stephen. Harsh, bro, but hey, maybe some truly kinetic jams would emerge from these sessions to rival even their work with Crosby and Nash. They even brought them in for some backing tracks, perhaps leading to a full-on CSNY reunion, but it was not to be, Stills and Young scrubbing their voices from the finished product. Harsh, bro, but hey, at least the forthcoming tour featuring Stephen and Neil would lead to some dynamite guitar action to hear. Except in typical Neil fashion, he flaked on his friend mid-tour, with one of the most classic kiss-off notes left behind. HARSH, bro!

As for the resultant songs, they're mostly pleasant rock, some leaning blues, some leaning country, but all sounding quite clean and polished compared to most of Neil's body of work. So much so, that songs like Ocean Girl and Midnight On The Bay could even be considered... *sigh* Yacht Rock. Of course Neil did a Yacht Rock.

Neil Young - Archives, Vol. 2: Disc 8 - Dume (1975)

Reprise Records: 2020

So I thought I would be skipping this disc as well. I mean, just look at the cover art: it's basically Zuma all over again, and indeed, eight of that album's nine songs appear on here. Yet that's only half of the musical content contained within, the rest versions of songs that wouldn't be heard in LP form until at least Rust Never Sleeps. And even then, we get different versions here, so wholly unique items exclusive to Archives, Vol. 2. Welp, guess that settles that.

If you've been keeping up with your handy-dandy Neil Young time-line mega-diary, you'd know this was about the point where his long-time backing band of Crazy Horse finally found themselves a worthy successor to the fallen Danny Whitten. Like, don't get me wrong, Nils Lofgren was a fine stand-in for the time he was there, but the musical wonderkid was a bit too talented to be playing rhythm guitar in an unabashed, undeniably average garage rock band.

Frank “Poncho” Sampedro, however, fit perfectly snug into the roll, in large part to already being a massive fan of the group's '60s work with Neil. Intimately familiar with their classics such that he could easily jam away with Billy Talbot and Ralph Molina, all he had to do was prove himself to the mighty Young as well, which he done did while the boys partied the nights away in Malibu. Guess that's why Archives has titled this disc Dume, the name of the other cove and beach in that region. The more famous one, of course, being Zuma Beach. What, did you think the 1975 album was titled that because of something Aztecan related? Haha, who'd ever think that? *cough*

Seriously though, such a connection to Aztecs and Incans makes sense, what with Neil going off on about mystical danger birds and killer conquistadors. He may have felt a full album of such material would have been overkill though, so songs like Ride My Llama and Pocahontas got the axe in favour of more tunes about break-ups like Don't Cry No Tears and Stupid Girl. I don't know what's crazier though: that such songs wouldn't officially appear again for several years, and then only as folk versions, or that Powderfinger wouldn't either. Okay, so it wouldn't have fit on Zuma, but couldn't it have been rescued for American Stars 'n Bars? Decade? Heck, Comes A Time, if nothing else but for the LOLs?

Supposedly, such songs may have ended up on another of Neil's tantalizing lost albums, Chrome Dreams. Makes sense, between this and material in the next disc in Archives, Vol. 2 having plenty 'nuff for another LP. T'was not to be though, thus wonderful songs like Hawaii, Born To Run, Kansas, and Too Far Gone would go unheard for decades (save the odd concert bootleg). Man, guess Rusties should be thankful Ride My Llama, Pocahontas and Powderfinger only took a 'brief' half-decade to appear on Rust Never Sleeps.

Neil Young - Archives, Vol. 2: Disc 7 - Homegrown (1974-1975)

Reprise Records: 2020

This album was pencilled in for a release after On The Beach. Pre-hype from those who'd heard it thought it would be just the record to resuscitate Neil's career back to his Harvest glory. Bold claims, and maybe words that should have been left unspoken in Mr. Young's presence, as at the eleventh hour, he pulled it from publication, going with the two-year old Tonight's The Night instead.

The long-held reasoning behind this is due to the fact both were played back-to-back off the same reel of tape. Comparing the two, Neil felt Tonight's The Night was the stronger collection of songs, and perhaps he's right in that regard. As time's passed, however, with more music from this era of his career emerging, a clearer picture's formed. As the previous disc in this Archives collection can attest, Neil's relationship woes were at an all-time low, songs almost exclusively being written about his feelings over Carrie Snodgress' absence. Some of these were strong enough to consider studio time with, with a backing band, proper LP roll-out, and everything.

Swell beans, but gosh, these are still quite personal and emotionally raw, aren't they? Like, at least the songs in Tonight's The Night also dealt with broader topics of living life on the skids, not just about the tragic deaths of friends. Maybe best to shelve Homegrown for a little while longer, let it sit while those emotional wounds heal some. See if you're feeling the same after, and if it's really such a good idea to let the world get this close to one's broken heart. And wait... and wait... and, oh, hi, fine lady, your name's Pegi, you say? Life moves on.

Still, it's undeniable that Homegrown would have made for a fascinating companion piece to Harvest, had it been released back when. Heck, it still could serve as such, should you choose to listen to them back to back. With songs like Out On The Weekend, Harvest, Heart Of Gold, and A Man Needs A Maid, you can glean a sense of growing puppy-love from Neil, a whirlwind relationship on the rise. Homegrown, meanwhile, is the inevitable break-up, bitter and despondent. I didn't say it was a happy companion piece.

Musically, we're in familiar territory as Harvest, with slide-guitarist Ben Keith and bassist Tim Drummond from The Stray Gators on hand. There's a couple more rocky country jams on here (Vacancy), some talking about weed (We Don't Smoke It No More, the titular cut ...yeah man, feckin' 'home-grown' *anxious pat of the head*). Elsewhere, White Line, a song that remained unpublished until 1990's Ragged Glory, is given the gentle acoustic go here, while Star Of Bethlehem with Emmylou Harris would appear much sooner on American Stars 'n Bars. And smack in the middle is Florida, an... abstract spoken-word bit? Huh, just when you thought you'd heard Neil Young do every style of music under the sun (and beyond!), he throws in something leftfield like this. What's next, Yacht Rock?

Neil Young - Archives, Vol. 2: Disc 6 - The Old Homestead (1974)

Reprise Records: 2020

Despite the rather jovial start to the Tonight's The Night tour, it didn't take long for things to go just as sour as the Harvest tour. Unsurprisingly, poor ol' Shakey grew even more despondent, retreating back to the studio with some pals, took a bunch of supplements called 'honey slides' (surely up on Erowid, if you're curious), and came out with On The Beach, an album that goes about as deep into the 'ditch' as you'll ever hear. Yeah, it has some peppy tunes like the Crazy Horse regular Walk On and the 'rawker' Revolution Blues. Gads though, Motion Pictures, On The Beach, Ambulance Blues... does that poor violin ever sound like a sad, howling hound dog.

I've already covered most of this in my review of On The Beach though, so let's skip that particular disc in Archives, Vol. 2, and move onto disc number six, The Old Homestead (1974). Seems things just kept getting worse for Mr. Young, his relationship with Carrie Snodgress crumbling as well. Makes sense that he'd start writing a pile of songs dealing with his feelings on the matter, using his own studio to record acoustic versions of them. Never mind if he ever intended to release them to a wider audience, there was at least some cathartic release in performing them to an audience of a few behind a mixing board.

A handful of these songs did emerge down the line. Blues-rocker The Old Homestead cropped up on the relatively forgotten Hawks & Doves. The laid-back country vibe of Deep Forbidden Lake earned a spot on the Decade retrospective. Moody acoustic number Bad News Comes To Town got a big-band blues cover during Neil's This Note's For You period. Still, most sat in his archives, untouched, unloved, mostly hidden from the world. It's quite possible these songs cut just a bit too deep into the emotional wounds he was feeling at the time, old scars he really didn't want revisiting, much less making known to a wider audience that was already rather invasive into his erratic activities.

Which makes Neil's decision to join with Crosby, Stills & Nash again for a massive American tour all the more strange. Maybe he thought 'getting back with the boys' was what he needed to knock him out of his funk, but while he was gung-ho about it during rehearsals, he turned right back into 'The Loner' while they went out on the road. Which may have been just as well, since by all accounts, 'the Doom Tour' (as Crosby put it) was a debauchery mess, if not financially successful – performing in stadiums would do that. A couple recordings from that tour appear on this disc, but it's clear Neil doesn't want it to be a focus of this collection.

By the end of The Old Homestead, the vibe does seem to be turning around a little, some regained confidence and peppier mood permeating the final clutch of songs. Neil wasn't quite done with the tunes of relationship woes, however, piecing together what would become one of his long-lost albums...

Neil Young - Archives, Vol. 2: Disc 4 - Roxy: Tonight's The Night Live (1973)

Reprise Records: 2018/2020

We're entering prime 'ditch' territory here, folks.

I'm sure we all know the story up to this point now. Harvest tour, a mess. Fame and fortune, found wanting. Close friends, dying of dope overdoses. Neil, trying to deal with it all, retreated to a make-shift L.A. studio with some of his musician buddies, where they drank hard liquor and played music to their fallen comrades, resulting in the album Tonight's The Night. As Archives, Vol. 2 presents everything in chronological order, it makes sense those sessions being the third disc in the set, despite the actual album not coming out for a couple years later. I've already reviewed it though, so let's skip ahead to disc number four, Roxy: Tonight's The Night Live (1973).

Why review a live album of songs I've already talked about? The fact this was even unearthed is a talking point, by g'ar! Despite some of these tunes becoming staples in Mr. Young's future concerts, they were all unknown to a wider public at this point. There were no lead singles, no album in support, and those who were coming in to see Neil Young in concert had to be even more confused than those who went to the Harvest shows. At least he'd still play favourites like Old Man and Heart Of Gold among the newer, unreleased ditties like Time Fades Away and Don't Be Denied. You didn't even get that with this tour. I'm sure it's exactly as Neil preferred it. Heck, I'm not even sure he intended this to turn into a tour that stretched into the U.K., the songs just a tad too intimate, personal, and raw for international audiences unfamiliar with the material.

Still, if this live set is any indication, things at least started on a positive note. The Roxy Theatre on the Sunset Strip had just re-opened under new ownership, including future label mogul David Geffen. It hadn't quite shaken off its former strip club atmosphere though, so the bluesy, down-and-out, skuzzy vibe that permeates Tonight's The Night fit snuggly with the joint. Possibly feeling inspired by the setting, Neil morphed into a caricature of the sort of Orange County (or Miami Beach) lounge lizard who'd host such an establishment. No longer the charming, folksy warbler of country-rock hits, he was a downtrodden, washed-up grease-ball only a mother could love. Andy Kaufman would have loved it, if he'd seen it.

The smaller venue also provided the perfect vibe for the music, Neil far more personable and interactive with the crowd, all the while backed by his A-team of associated musicians. Dubbed The Santa Monica Flyers, you had the remaining Crazy Horse members on rhythm, wonderkid Nils Lofgren on piano and guitar, and dependable Ben Keith on slide guitar. All had been in lock-step with these tunes since their creation, so rolled into the Roxy quite polished in performing them. And even if no one in the audience knew them, they all seemed at least hype enough being part of the Roxy's grand opening to indulge Neil's dalliance from the norm. All in all, a fun night out, this performance, even if the subject matter remains bleak as all Hell.

Neil Young with The Stray Gators - Archives, Vol. 2: Disc 2 - Tuscaloosa (1973)

Reprise Records: 2019/2020

The Archives series is a continuous project, segments coming out with great frequency. In typical Neil Young fashion though, it remains an erratic one. Instead of a steady, chronological re-telling of his discography, it's made massive time-jumps with each release of the Performance Series. Confounding things further are additional items released after they should have been properly sequenced, relegating them to x.5 in their numerical order.

Example: Live At The Cellar Door, a show recorded between the Live At The Fillmore East and Live At Massey Hall sessions, is designated PS02.5. This is all very dorky, OCD-levels of going about re-issuing one's discography, but it does leave some tantalizing hints of what else might come out, especially when there's a six volume gap between Live At Massey Hall and A Treasure (the country shindiggin' tour of Old Ways).

Cagey marketing aside, there's a more practical reason why some of these archival performances come out in non-chronological order: they're harder to resuscitate than others. Or put another way, even though Tuscaloosa (1973) was always intended to be volume four of the Performance Series, getting a good remastering of those recordings was apparently a herculean effort.

This is from the Harvest tour with The Stray Gators that went down as one of the most disastrous tours from Neil's long career, one that started on a rather bleak note when their practice sessions with Crazy Horse guitarist Danny Whitten wasn't turning out, got sent home and promptly overdosed. Those arenas were already sold out though, folks eager to hear hits like Heart Of Gold live. So hit the road Neil and the Gators did, though not before financial wrangling added even more sourness to the proceedings. Throw in Mr. Young's insistence at playing new material over Harvest songs as the tour progressed, and it lurched to an unsatisfying end once the American portion was completed, a European stretch cancelled.

As fascinating as it would be to hear those shows, Tuscaloosa wisely gives us a glimpse of the tour in its earlier days, when things hadn't quite gone to such shite. Even then, there was only so much audio they could cobble, portions of it apparently going unrecorded.

So we get a couple solo acoustic numbers to open up, then it's right into the Harvest tunes with the Gators. The opening salvo of Out On The Weekend and Harvest sound great, the live energy vastly improved over the studio versions. Old Man and Heart Of Gold are as they are, but it soon settles in that, as professional as the Gators are as a backing band, that's all they are. Neil really wants to coax a little Crazy Horse out of these Nashville pros, but it just isn't happening.

The set ends off with Don't Be Denied, somewhat of a harbinger of things to come. Neil goes autobiographical, his voice gets harrowed and raw, and the music fades away, in doing so jettisoning the traditional post-song applause of a live album, the audience disappearing before us.

Neil Young - Archives, Vol. 2: Disc 1 - Everybody's Alone (1972-1973)

Reprise Records: 2020

Aw shit, here we go again...

Like, you knew this was inevitable. It was only a matter of time before Neil Young put out another Archives collection. It's why, despite the various, unearthed items that had recently come out from this period of his career, I let them pass by, fully expecting them to appear within this box-set. And for sure I'm gonna' review Every. Single. CD. that's included here, mwa-ha-hah! Okay, I'll probably skip on discs that are heavy on material from the albums I've already reviewed (Tonight's The Night, On The Beach, Zuma), because who needs redundant reviews like that? There's already ten discs on Archives Vol. 2 - gotta' cut corners wherever I can.

That all sorted? Good. Now, where were we? Ah yes, Mr. Young had just released Harvest, achieving a fame and fortune few could have dreamed of ten years deep into a music career, much less ol' Neil. In fact, he was so flustered with all the success that he kept trying to run away from it, which seemed to have the opposite effect. Part of a break-out rock band? Break away and do folksy solo stuff for a while. Get popular enough to join a super-group and play to crowds of thousands? Buy a ranch to get away from it all. Feel so inspired by your surroundings that you write some of your most heart-felt tunes yet, leading to chart topping albums and tours in sold-out arenas? Well, now things are just getting ridiculous. What must one do to get away from all this success? Drown yourself in a ditch?

That's jumping ahead a little though. Archives, Vol. 2 instead kicks things off in the immediate aftermath of Harvest. Titled Everybody's Alone (1972-1973), it's a sort of mish-mash of demo recordings and previously unreleased material of Neil trying out new and old songs with The Stray Gators, his backing band of Nashville session musicians (save an original recording of future tune Human Highway with Crosby, Stills, & Nash). Some of these would end up on the album Time Fades Away, including previously unreleased versions of The Bridge, L.A., and Time Fades Away (a right hootenanny of a tune!). In fact, I think the only tune that appears as on this disc that also does on that album is Yonder Stands The Sinner.

And you may wonder, why not just include the actual Time Fades Away songs, remastered, like as done on the previous Archives collection? To which I respond, “Have you actually heard the quality of those recordings?” They're not good, infamously recorded as performed live, with little in the way of proper studio tapes or mixing console used in the process. It remains one of the only Neil Young albums to never see an official CD re-issue, Neil either unable or unwilling to polish it for modern ears. It has finally found its way onto streaming services if you're insatiably curious, but you're probably better off with the versions as heard here.

Drowning In Atmospheric Rivers: An EMC Update

I won't front: personally, I'm not directly affected by all the flooding that's happened in my corner of the world. Vancouver-Proper hasn't seen any of the catastrophic damage so many nearby areas have. That doesn't mean there haven't been issues though, as supply chains get disrupted. It's easy to think, that's what we get, having just one route in and out of the Lower Mainland, but we really don't. There are multiple routes, and in years past, when there's been severe weather disruptions, at least one or two of those routes will remain open. That this substantial percipitation managed to knock-out all the routes is almost unprecidented! Throw in the killer combo of re-routing through the States ain't an easy task due to COVID restrictions (not all truck drivers are eligible for border crossings), and you have a logistical nightmare for those who's job it is to handle the movement of goods to local communities. I've had a hectic past couple weeks, is what I'm saying.

That all said, such a work schedule wouldn't have been enough to completely de-rail this blog's productivity for half a month. Nay, the other reason there hasn't been any updates in a while is because the next item in my queue is gonna' take up a significant chunk of time to get through, and I didn't want to split it between two months. Yep, it's another box-set, one where alphabetical stipulation won't let me work around it like the Lucette Bourdin one. Figured I'd wait until November ended, by which hopefully most of the Real World nutiness had cooled off a little. I... can't say it has, but eh, no sense putting this off any longer.

Pentatonik - Anthology

Deviant Records: 1994

I've gathered a fair amount of music from artists as featured on Waveform Records' One A.D., as one is want to do upon discovering a new musical passion. Until now, though, not Pentatonik. While some I accepted as being too hopelessly obscure to ever find (Templeroy, G.O.L.), Mr. Bowring's project didn't seem that rare. Lord Discogs informed me he did have an album out, a double-LP at that! Titled Anthology. With each record side having titles of their own. Including one called Movements. With four parts. Oh dear, is this some pretentious, high-art bollocks, like a William Orbit outing? Not really, no, though I wasn't far off in assuming the 'orbit' influences being involved. Just a bit longer in the name.

Yeah, one can't help but make an Orbital comparison with these tunes. The punchy synth riffs, backing chord stabs, sweeping string swells, and various breakbeats of differing tempos... all sounds you'd associate with the Otford duo. Pentatonik's debut honestly feels like the missing link between Orbital's first two albums, perhaps a Hartnoll brother side-project. Only trouble is Anthology came out in 1994, by which point Orbital were already on to Snivilisation. What might have come off cutting edge but a couple years earlier was already sounding dusty, which wouldn't be a problem if the music wasn't so on-the-nose in this comparison.

As I've said though, it matters not what year from whence yonder audibles emit to our contemporary clime's (or something), does it sound any good today? If you can get past the Orbital tone (a mighty task, I cannot deny), it kinda-sorta does, but there's some unfortunate bloat too.

The four-part Movements segment that opens CD1 probably has the most going for it, the first and fourth hitting on some mint, vintage rave vibes. Part 2 goes for the sweeping morning-after feels, while Part 3 treads closer to the domain of Artificial Intelligence experimentation. Unfortunately, save the blissy breaks of About That, the Reworks second half sounds way-dated and under-produced. And frankly, so does Awakenings, the four-track opening of CD2. I suppose Pentatonik Melody is so impossibly twee, you can't help but find it charming, even if that riff wouldn't sound out of place in a happy hardcore jangle.

Fortunately, the Additions portion of Anthology closes things out with the sort of tunes I was hoping to hear from Pentatonik. Green is a groovy little number with nice synth stabs and burbly acid. Real is proper IDM with a skittery, tribal rhythm and pulsating electronics. Detox sounds like a beefier, busier version of Devotion as it appeared on One A.D. And throw in a live version of Movements – Part 4? Sure, may as well.

So, two CDs with only one's worth of memorable music. I've no idea why it was released like this, as Pentatonik certainly wasn't a name that commanded such standing. Did Deviant Records just insist they launch their label with a double-LP? Maybe they thought they had the next Orbital on their hands.

Lucette Bourdin - Ancient Memories

Dark Duck Records/Fantasy Enhancing: 2008/2021

So I got a box of Bourdin.

And you may ask, who is Lucette Bourdin, such that she should have a multi-CD box-set of her music released? Despite having a sizable discography, her music didn't have much presence upon the ambient world. According to Lord Discogs, even her most 'popular' albums only have an average of twenty owners, and seldom branched beyond Earth Mantra and Dark Duck Records (itself a rather obscure print where Stephen Philips releases the bulk of his music). For all intents, it was Lucette's paintings that brought her the most attention, her music more an extension of that.

Someone down at Fantasy Enhancing must be a fan though (it's Lee, isn't it), hence a massive Retrospective Box Set (2005 – 2017) collection. I can't say I was initially interested in springing for it, but some Bandcamp deals came down the line, and I had some spare money to spend (Narrator: he didn't, he really didn't!). And as with that Harold Budd box-set, I'll be reviewing Every. Single. Album in this collection as they come up in my alphabetical queue, starting with this here Ancient Memories.

And now I'm at a bit of a loss in how to approach this. Yeah, Lucette is primarily an ambient composer, so there probably isn't going to be that much variation from album to album. There's gotta be some though, and would serve me well in hearing her development over the years if I'm going to review all of them. Still, listen to all twenty discs, just to get a base of comparison? Who's got time for that? Guess I'll just wing 'em as they come.

So, Ancient Memories. This is a four-track album, with three pieces hovering around the fifteen minute mark. The first, Memories Of The Oolites (the sedimentary rocks?), almost had me worrying I might be in for an abstract, experimental outing, the sort of blippy, droning sounds often associated with such. It soon settles into gentle ambience though, soft, velvety pads gliding along for much of duration, save an occasional return to the initial abstract sounds. Memories Of Chordata (the animal phylum?), however, goes darker and mysterious, almost a pure minimalist drone piece. There is just enough harmonic timbre in the subtle pad work though, keeping it just on this side of ambient music. Memories Of Fitzroya (the Andes Mountains conifer?) is almost atonal in its rhythmic minimalism, but in a nice, calming, meditative way. Quite reminds me of Hybrid Leisureland, or other Japanese ambient composers.

As for the closer Memories Of Acoma (the ancient Pueblo region?), this piece nearly breaches the thirty minute mark. While it certainly has many different passages throughout its runtime, it's primarily performed in such a minimalist, droning matter, much of it can simply pass by without much happening. There are occasional swells, distant echoing harmonies, even rhythmic pulses. Overall, a mysterious sounding piece that moves enough to keep you engaged should you continue paying attention, but doesn't insist upon itself either.

Various - Adykt

Dyadik: 2021

So I get an email from Touched Music via their Bandcamp page, as you do when you subscribe to artist and label pages. I normally don't pay them much attention, inundated with updates from multiple subscriptions as I am. This one though, caught my attention with big proclamations of this being an immediate second-run of CD copies, the first selling out so quickly. Well gosh, if that don't trigger my FOMO like few other items. Who cares if I know nothing of this Dyadik label, or that out of twenty-two tracks on this double-LP, I only recognize John Tejada? LIMITED QUANTITIES! FAST SELL-OUT! Man, is Adykt ever an appropriate name for this compilation.

Still, there was a nice bit of nostalgic thrill, diving into a compilation with practically no info or background of what I was getting into. Heck, I only assumed this would be on the ambient techno spectrum because of the Touched Music association. It could have been grime for all I knew. In fact, the track Oliver Sutton, We On from Min-Y-Llan has some of the rappity-raps going on, which is weird considering the backing track sounds like some electro-ambient thing. Oh, and it's produced by the guy behind the Touched compilations, that's weird too. Or unexpected, at least.

But nay, CD1 opens with exm's Kolder, a gentle bit of loopy, shoegazey, piano ambience as I'd expect. HRYM's Heimferd follows and, good gosh, is this Balearic trance? It sure gives me those classic Solarstone feels, though just a little more subtle with its rhythms. Weld's Premises goes glitch-hop, while dialed's The Cat's Whiskers actually does go acid-grime. Okay, Adykt, you've sold me. You're one of those 'anything goes' compilations, aren't you? Even if I don't end up liking all the tracks, I appreciate the gumption.

Fortunately, there's plenty to enjoy. The synthwave vibes of Buspin Jieber's Never Say These Words. The old-timey Berlin-School leaning If You Had One from The Gasman. The classic neurofunk of Karsten Plfum's Breaks And Morphoids. The chiptune quirkiness of DTACK's Polyhedra. Plus a whole pile of ambient techno, braindance, acid, and chill electro scattered about the rest. I actually do recognize a couple others artists since picking Adykt up – Urban Meditation, Drøn, Z-Arc... I think. Plenty more are totally new to me though, with oddball aliases that really put your character key skills to the test (Auberg1ne, MⒶ, ΠΕΡΑ ΣΤΑ ΟΡΗ).

On one hand, that's great, in that plenty of folks are getting extra shine, especially those who haven't had much after many years making music. On the other hand, you're gonna' have to do some serious sleuthing in hunting down everyone here. Despite being around a couple years now (so sayeth Lord Discogs), this Dyadik label only has three releases to its name. Is Martin Boulton (the aforementioned Min-Y-Llan) just more focused on Touched than keeping pace with this print? Whatever the case, here's hoping Adykt acts as a springboard of sorts for future releases from these artists. They deserve it.

Pete Namlook / DJ Dag - Adlernebel

Fax +49-69/450464: 2000

Pete Namlook collaborated with DJ Dag, the man who helped define trance music? Heck, he even contributed to the indispensable, quintessential Namlook tribute box-set Die Welt Ist Klang, and I somehow completely blanked on it. Right, he was using his seldom-used alias of, um, Dag Lerner (his real name), so you understand why I may not have made the connection.

More so, this is a pairing that, on paper, happened far too late. Dag's profile was at its peak when Fax+ was finding its footing, Dance 2 Trance getting published on one of the biggest eurodance labels of the time, Blow Up. Despite Pete's print being something of a common ground for all electronic music makers to convene and collaborate, I doubt it was high on Mr. Lerner's mind to do so. Time carries on though, and while DJ Dag's career never cratered, he certainly wasn't mentioned in the same breath as all the hot, new trance jocks of the millennium's turn. A legacy act, if you will. Which is about the perfect time to hook up with that Namlook fella' and see what creative juices may blossom from such a session!

I have no idea what anyone expected of this pairing way back when. They couldn't possibly have thought it would sound 'contemporary' to the tastes of trance music in the year 2000, could they? Both these chaps were resolutely old-school when it came to their craft, so hearing something so early '90s retro shouldn't have been much of a surprise. Then again, who was this release even for, beyond the Fax+ faithful? Certainly not clubland at large, though I'm sure Dag would have rinsed out at least couple tunes off here. Maybe Talla 2XLC as well.

Raum Und Zeit, The West Is The Best, and Pure Energy are as vintage of 'proper' trance tunes as I've ever heard, distilled and purified from the year 1992 and not a month later. Meanwhile, Dagar treads closer to Namlook's brand of spaced-out, loopy trance (with additional wolf howls maintaining Dag's continued nods to Native American activism), while the remaining cuts are charming chill tunes. Who cares if they'd never have a hope of being playlisted by Paul Oakenfold or any of the Dutch dudes? This is the music Pete and Dag wanted to make for themselves and that's all that matters, gosh darn it all.

Yet, as I played Adlernebel, a curious notion crossed my mind: what does it matter in modern times when this was released? True, electronic music evolution was explosive throughout the '90s, but that was honestly only important as it was happening. The gap between 1992 and 2000 is paltry from our vantage point. These days, genres have became sated and stagnant – the difference between a 2012 and 2020 trance release is almost negligible. So a year 2000 trance album sounds like a 1992 trance album. Us old-schoolers would kill for a 2021 trance album to sound like a 1992 trance album! Anyhow, food for thought.

Sync24 - Acidious

Leftfield Records: 2020

Speaking of side-projects that had been sitting fallow for half a decade, here's Sync24 again. You may recall him being one-half of Carbon Based Lifeforms. I certainly didn't, back when I first reviewed his second album Comfortable Void on this here bloggy-blog of mine so many years ago. Or I did, but simply neglected mentioning it because I didn't think it important to bring up at the time. It's not like Daniel's solo alias was lighting the world afire then, and when CBL transitioned to Blood Music (BLOOD Music!!), he didn't take it there with him.

Still, I've noticed a trend with all these Sync24 albums, in that they seem to appear a year or two after a major CBL release. Ah, that makes them b-sides then? Perhaps, though that may just be coincidental too. I think Mr. Segerstad is simply the sort that has many ideas floating about, some of which needs an additional outlet to satisfy.

Predictably then, a Sync24 album came out shortly after CBL's Derelicts, Omnious. That's not what I'm reviewing though, and not because of my alphabetical stipulation either – I just haven't gotten it yet. Nay, I'm instead scoping out this more recent outlier to the Sync24 canon, Acidious. Not only is it the first album under this alias to not be released so close to a CBL record (does Stochastic really count?), but this is a strict exercise in acid techno to boot.

Yeah, the title's a dead giveaway, if not the smiley face painted upon the tree those druid bunnies are huddle about. But the TB-303 runs deep in Daniel's blood, such music among the very earliest he ever made before CBL came to dominate much of his career. The squiggly, bubbly sound has long been a staple in the tunes he's crafted with Mr. Hedberg, but a return to those decades old roots certainly isn't out of the norm.

The appropriately titled Feet In The Water kicks things off in somewhat familiar territory, the acid but a simmer as a simple, gentle prog-psy tune plays along. It's not long before the 303 gets its squelch on, and by Nightfall Bounce hits, we're firmly in Hardfloor territory. Seriously, Acid For Blood does the vintage '90s peak-time acid anthemage as fine as any track from the days of yore. And it's not just acid techno that gets its nod, but trance as well. Real trance! Old school trance! Real old school acid trance, as though time-travelled from the early days of Platipus Records. Sa-weet!

Despite Acidious triggering all my nostalgia endorphins, the whole experience runs rather slight. Many tracks will build to a solid acid peak, but instead of thrusting forward into an even bigger high, it will simply end. Plus, we only get eight tracks, which feels skint with tracks so structurally short. Unfortunately, this makes the album more of a fun diversion than something commanding repeated playthroughs. But hey, no one ever went wrong adding a little more acid into their diet.

Sabled Sun - 2149

Cryo Chamber: 2021

After a four year flurry that saw annual releases from Sabled Sun (not to mention six side-releases), it seemed Simon Heath's future apocalypse concept had been put to pasture. From a narrative standpoint, it made some sense, going only so far as the view-point character could manage. Heck, I could argue that Sabled Sun only need the first album, 2145, so brilliantly telling its tale in one take. Carry on it did though, continuing the journey through a world in ruin.

With 2148, I pondered whether the tale's focus was changing, less about exploration and more about moving forward, and where the series' protagonist may go from there. Then the project went dark for half a decade, leaving such questions unanswered. For such a consistent series, that's a heck of a gap. What happened? Did other projects draw Simon's attention? A bout of 'writer's block' in where Sabled Sun could go next? A pang of associative guilt that 2148 came out the same day TFG was elected? Mysteries upon mysteries...

Straight up, I'm a tad disappointed that this new album isn't titled 2153. How cool would it have been of Simon to maintain the yearly passing of time with each Sabled Sun release mirroring our own? I suppose it's a bit of a moot point if you're listening to these for the first time in the here and now, or binge-listening in one sitting (as I did to re-familiarize myself with the setting). Ah well, probably too dorky a consideration for a sci-fi story set in a post-apocalypse brought about by humanity's hubris.

Speaking of humanity's hubris, 2149 takes us into an abandoned underground metropolis, left unscathed by the ravages of the surface world. Here, automation carries on, androids and machinery dutifully maintaining what remains, like lost children keeping the house clean while hoping for their parents to return. Actually, the music within isn't so explicit with these descriptions, but the nifty booklet the CD comes with sure is.

In fact, there isn't much sonic narrative in 2149 at all, the whole album running less than forty minutes total, the shortest Sabled Sun outing yet. Five years in the making? Ah, heh, I doubt it's like that, but it does lend some credence to the 'writer's block' theory. Besides, it's not like Simon's utterly strapped for ideas, as the booklet shows plenty of inspiration in the setting left. Sometimes you just gotta get what you can out though, even if it isn't as much as you'd like.

As for what we do have, there's less of the desolate, wandering field recordings, and more machinery, computers speak, and rhythmic pulses throughout – some of it could almost be techno! We're definitely in the bowels of a derelict civilization but it doesn't seem we're meant to dwell here long. What's this, a sensory port where one may uplink their consciousness to the still-running data-cloud inhabited by all the remaining automatons? Eh, I've had worse company.

Various - 001005

Intellitronic Bubble: 2019

Did you know Lee Norris established another label? No, another one. No, the other one. The other-other one. Not that one, the other one. No, another one. C'mon, how hard is this? We shouldn't have to do this dance every time. Besides I've already reviewed one item from this new Lee Norris label, Synchronized Minds from last year. It's not my fault y'all didn't notice it after all the words I spent going on about his Norken alias.

But yes, back in 2019 (the Normal Times?), Lee hooked up with Árni Grétar (Futuregrapher) and launched Intellitronic Bubble, a specialist techno label featuring limited run 10” vinyl (lathe cut, a Very Important distinction). It would promote unheralded artists like Milieu, Scape One, G-Prod, and Carbinax along side a few Norris associates operating under obscure aliases (Mick Chillage as The Shape, Devin Underwood as Devroka). Little hype, little fuss, just a bunch of producers having some fun on the side with no worry or care whether their music gets noticed abroad. Until it does, by some hot, trendy techno DJ or music vlog, after which demand will skyrocket, causing future techno collectors to lament and bemoan why-oh-why did they not jump on these 10” vinyls with all the bubble artwork from this obscure Icelandic print when they had the chance? The cosmic ballet... goes on.

Meanwhile, here's a nice little CD compilation (glass mastered, a Very Important distinction), rounding up those first five records. Yay!

For a purported techno label, I was surprised in hearing as much eclecticism as I did in 001005. Mileu's Amber Petrol'r kicks things off closer to the domain of tech-house, if early Warp Records could have kicked off tech-house. Rekab's Winter Harmonics maintains those Artificial Intelligence vibes, while _Nyquist's Sudden Void starts treading down Neo-Detroit's back alleys.

So here I'm thinking, “huh, Intellitronic Bubble isn't strictly techno at all, but just a continuation of other Lee Norris ambient techno labels, but with a heavier emphasis on beatcraft.” But then we go full-in with the robo-menace of Devroka's All Show And No Go, and I simply accept my pre-conceived notions were incorrect. Oh, the humility.

Seriously though, things go further into the Detroit future-vibes, such that I'm quite reminded of the material coming out of the FireScope camps (holy cow, talk about killer crossover potential!). Not a one-to-one comparison though, as the B12 print leans quite heavy into the sci-fi vibes, while Intellitronic Bubble feels more at home grounded. The only outlier in these is final track Flying Cars from Futuregrapher, doing more a dubby tech-house thing that would have fit snuggly in a Swayzak set circa 2001.

Does all this make 001005 a good compilation? Yeah, guy, it does. Handy introduction to the label, nice variety of techno and electro tunes produced by fully capable musicians. What's not to like? The scarcity of their physical catalogue, I guess, but eh, such are the times.

Intergalactic Federation - 1/2

Fax +49-69/450464/Fantasy Enhancing: 1994/2020

A reissue of the Intergalactic Federation albums from Fax+? Sure, may as well. I'm honestly a little surprised it didn't happen sooner, as I'm sure the endlessly active David Moufang (Move D) has retained some rights to their distribution. Maybe he had to clear things up with former Deep Space Network pal Jonas Grossmann, though seeing as how Higher Intelligent Agency has had his collaboration with them available for some time, that doesn't track. Were they waiting on Dr. Atmo to re-emerge from cryo-stasis? He'd been absent for many years, but it's been over a half-decade since he properly returned to the world of ambient techno. Did the players involved just assume that *gasp* there wasn't enough interest in I.F. for a re-issue?

I mean, I can sort of see that being the case, I.F. rather obscure even by Fax+ side-project standards. True, it came out during what many consider the label's golden years, and the first album commands hefty triple-digit sums of money on the open market these days. That can be said for a lot of Fax+ items though, and despite the pedigree on hand, most folks are quicker to name-drop other projects from Move D and Dr. Atmo than this one. Matters aren't helped that it was such a short-lived pairing, the Deep Space Network and good Doc' moving onto other ventures shortly after. For all intents, I.F. should go the way of other unheralded Fax+ releases like Electro Harmonix, Wechselspannung, and Softcore.

Interest did persist though, especially for those coming to the Fax+ party way late in the game. No sense in letting I.F. languish in collector's purgatory, so here's Fantasy Enhancing giving us both albums in a spiffy DVD package! Man, I hope this bodes well for that rumoured Dr. Atmo box-set.

What's funny to me is when I finally laid my ears upon these I.F. recordings, my first thoughts were, “Oh hey, it's ambient dub! Neat! Sure didn't expect that from a Fax+ release.” I don't know why I shouldn't have. Maybe I've just long associated the label with the trancey, spaced-out, experimental side of ambient techno, that I simply couldn't fathom anything else. Just goes to show how deep the Fax+ well goes.

The first I.F. album certainly opens as such, a very chill, minimalist outing of bloopy electronics and meditative rhythms. Things pick up for Ten Waves, but only marginally so, while Kisy Loa (the closest thing to a 'single' off here) starts treading closer to ambient techno's proper domain. Plus, it's funny hearing that gabber kick so slow, muffled and distant. CD1 closer Caravan goes groovier, psychedelic, man, sending the listener to the cosmos on the back of space camels. Or something.

By comparison, the group's second session is a relatively straight-forward, if subdued, trip into tribal dub-funk. These tracks wouldn't sound out of place on one of Beyond's compilations, though would need some paring down to fit, but who ever heard of a Fax+ jam session being concise?