Aphex Twin - Selected Ambient Works 85-92

R & S Records: 1992/2011

I’ve already ranted on about R & S Records’ utterly derped idea of replacing classic covers with their logo when they did the deed on Model 500’s Deep Space. At least in the case of Aphex Twin’s Selected Ambient Works 85-92, it wasn’t that much of a difference. The stark white background is retained, and the cover logo remains black provided you keep the shiny portions tilted away from the light. Yeah, the R & S stallion isn’t as dope as the Aphex ‘A’ ( or ‘A+T’, or ‘λ’, or saw, or half-starfish, or rip-off of the Yellow Pages logo, or whatever crackpot theory that’s out this week), but at least the simplistic style remained. It’s not like the original’s packaging was much to get fussed over anyway.

That’s the only fresh take I can offer with this review. Everything else that can be said about SAW 85-92, has been said, including me saying what I just said. Of course, there’s also my personal thoughts about this album, so if you’re after any proper critical analysis of Aphex Twin’s debut LP, scurry on over to one of the zillion other reviews online. Heck, even the new liner notes from Will Troup in this re-issue might suffice, even though they’re unashamedly fanboyish.

What I find so remarkable about this classic album is how it’s not really an album at all. Yes, Mr. Richard D. James often toyed with the LP convention, but most of his subsequent full-lengths had some structure to them, encouraging you to play them front-to-back so each track was taken in with the context of its surrounding neighbors. SAW 85-92 doesn’t have that, tracks coming and going as they mean to go on. Nor should there be any rhyme or reason to their sequence since the whole release is literally nothing more than a collection of tapes he’d made over the years. After giving them to an eagerly curious Renaat Vandepapeliere, the R & S head set up a new sub-label (Apollo) to release some selections upon realizing how far ahead of the curve these tapes were. He couldn’t put it on his techno print, after all; they were just too ambient for that. Yet, they weren’t proper ambient either, were they? So many weird, rough rhythms, taking well-worn drum machines and feeding them through filters and distorters and reverbers. Ah well, those lovely melodies and alien synths were close enough to ambient to make it count for the time being. Folks would shortly come up with a proper new genre tag anyway.

Of all Ricardo de Santiago’s output from the ‘90s, it took me the longest to hear this one in full. For sure I’d heard a few tracks here and there (Xtal, Schottkey 7th Path, Pulsewidth), but as SAW Early-Years came out on Apollo, it always sat stupid expensive on Canadian shelves. I knew the legend of this album, but no way was it worth thirty-plus bones for old ambient techno.

Nah, guy, even then it totally was.

Various - Radikal Techno (Original TC Review)

Quality Music: 1992

(2015 Update:
"Objective straight-faced criticism"? What does that even mean? And, oh-ho-ho, shame on you, 2008 Sykonee, for even suggesting every review you wrote was truly objective. I'd tried toeing the 'hard but fair' line most of the time, but there were plenty instances of throwing any supposed objectivity out the window in favor of a long-winded rant or gush. Ah well, at least I get to wear all my biases in plain view for this blog, and not rely on lengthy opening paragraphs explaining away such changes in writing tone.

There's two things I neglected mentioning regarding the Radikal Techno series that I may as well bring up now. 1. The name comes from the record label that released most of these tunes, Radikal Records, a New Jersey print that specialized in commercial dance singles from Europe - Quality Music handled their Canadian distribution, hence why I've so many of their CDs. 2. Radikal Techno actually lasted for a good decade, reaching a sixth edition featuring the likes of ATB, Cosmic Gate, and Brooklyn Bounce. Of course, by that time, Quality Music had long-since folded, so it was a case of Radikal Records using the name of a compilation series promoting their material created by another label. And I've gone cross-eyed.)

IN BRIEF: They don’t make ‘em like this anymore.

I tried. Really, I did. As much as I’d love to dive into this Random Review with all the objective straight-faced criticism I approach any other release, the history I personally have with this compilation makes it incredibly difficult. You see, my friends, this simple little release titled Radikal Techno is the second CD I ever owned. It’s survived accidents, theft during parties, drunken vandalism during parties, transportation from a number of different homes, and desperate pawn-shop plundering during periods of destitution, yet has remained in remarkable condition during it all.

“So what?” you say. “It’s just an old CD with a bunch of early 90s techno on it; not like it’s some rare original 7" Cybotron record.” True, but as anyone who has had a habit of coddling their music for years can attest to, such nurturing inhibits objective perspectives of the actual material on display.

Fact is, I still enjoy Radikal Techno. Yes, some of the production is hopelessly dated (there are frequent uses of the oh-so cutting edge Stereo-Pan Effect). Yes, some of the crappier trends in techno of the early ‘90s are present. And yes, I completely agree my continued enjoyment of this CD could simply be attributed to fuzzy warm nostalgia. Yet nor could I pass this off to an associate of mine to get their objective opinions of it because pretty much everyone I know quite enjoys the old school. And shouldn’t that be enough to convince you, the reader, that Radikal Techno has more going for it than starry-eyed trips down memory lane? Just look at some of these cuts!

For sure, there are overly familiar names here: 2 Unlimited, Age Of Love, Human Resource, Joey Beltram... and that’s just what anyone with basic background of electronic music should recognize. However, with the exception of Age Of Love, where Jam & Spoon’s remix would go on to see endless compilation duty in the years to come (I don’t think anyone in ‘92 could have predicted that), Radikal Techno offers some true rarities from them. The Two Little Boys remix of Twilight Zone plays around with those famous hooks, providing a funkier spin for the underground to appreciate. Rush To The Rhythm, a track featuring super-fast breaks, raps, and cut’n’paste production, is one of Beltram’s more obscure releases. And Glitch’s long-forgotten remix of Dominator is stellar, bringing blistering techno beats to this hoover anthem, spiking it with intensity benefitting of thrash metal throughout.

Elsewhere on this tracklist are a bunch of tunes that were quite popular ‘back in the day’ and, although mostly forgotten now, hold up remarkably well. Everyone knows Apotheosis’ O Fortuna, but the follow-up Obumbratta was just as good. Here we have their Dynamic Techno Remix featuring proto-gabber beats and production quality that is leaps and bounds above nearly everything else on Radikal Techno - it really does sound like the apocalypse is nigh as the Gates Of Hell are opened. WestBam’s Mayday Anthem, a track written for the Mayday party, is a fun piece of riff-tastic techno, while Razormaid adds sinister grumbling basslines to Die Schwarze Zone from LDC, an EBM-inspired project from euro-house legend Torsten Fenslau. And speaking of old house legends and rumbling basslines, StoneBridge shows up to remix the oldie house-gem Take Me Higher from Hysteria. Quite possibly amongst the oddest tracks is Ave Maria from the anonymous Noys, whom sampled the climax of Strauss’ Blue Danube, looped it, added some beats, and then dive off into a nifty piece of techno in its own right (that bassline... damn, but are there ever some kick-ass basslines on this compilation!); it screams one-off novelty, yet somehow works in spite of itself.

Unfortunately, Radikal Techno also finds one of the more abysmal novelty trends to be found in early ‘90s rave, the cringe-worthy ‘toytown’ phase. Here, we have Raving On Sesame Street, which is so hopelessly lame, this was about the only place you could find the track (according to Discogs, anyway). Thankfully, it’s placed at the end of the CD, and can simply be forgotten it even exists.

The remaining tracks mostly amount to rip-offs (Dance Your Ass Off is practically James Brown Is Dead) or style-biting (big-riff techno in the case of Stylophonia, hoover-house in the case of Life At Wunderbar, and anthemic hip-house with The Nervous Zone). None of them are essential but they do help round out the compilation with filler that won’t have you reaching for the skip button.

As an interesting aside, Canadian DJ Chris Sheppard helped compile this release; however, this is in his pre-fame days when he was just starting to expose all that crazy rave music from Europe to Canadians. As such, he only has a token “Compiled by” credit near the copyright alongside Quality’s frequent dance compiler Markus Klinke. As evidenced by his track selection here, Sheppard definitely had an ear for the underground, and this release confirms it was a shame Shep’ was lost to the mainstream soon after.

Anyhow, Radikal Techno is the kind of compilation that you just might find sitting in a used shop (probably Canadian). Considering the quality and scarcity of a number of these tracks and remixes, it makes this CD quite the bargain for anyone who fancies the old school. Don’t miss out.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2008. © All rights reserved

Ice Cube - The Predator

Priority Records: 1992/2003

Ice Cube warned them, made two albums in two years declaring that the shit was gonna' hit the fan if people didn't pay attention to all the problems affecting inner-city America. Then Rodney King happened, followed by riots, and a promise that proper dialogue and change for the better would finally go down for black communities. Yet, here we are, over twenty years later, and the same ol' strife continues to erupt. Why didn't you warn us again, Cube? Oh, right, too busy making movies and that. Guess it's fallen to the younger generation of rappers to fight the good fight in the name of racial justice.

Just kidding. O'Shea Jackson doesn't need to keep carrying a gangsta' militant torch because he said all that needed to be said back in the day – the fact some of his points on AmeriKKKa's Most Wanted, Death Certificate and The Predator still resonate today is a testament to how difficult it's been for America to overcome its racial and social divides. That said, I wager even Cube felt he was running out of topics to rap about that weren’t retreads for this album. It didn’t mean he ran out of issues to rail against, as despite the racial pressure cooker having finally burst, he’s still taking to task corrupt cops and the unjust profiling many blacks and Latinos suffered from. A number of his other heated subjects, however, like homophobia and beefs with other rappers, is left to the back burner. Seems there were more important matters to address than whether a dude’s looking at you queer.

Another thing that’s different in The Predator compared to Cube’s first two albums is more focus on his mack game and even a little light-hearted optimism for a change. Yep, this is the one where ol’ O’Shea waxes pleasantries on It Was A Good Day, as much a sunny LA slice of life as it is a commentary that having nothing go wrong is such a rarity in the gangsta’ routine (fabricated or not). It also gave him his highest charting single outside his traditional US rap market, and quite a surprising one considering the sort of music Cube was known for – not that mainstream American radio would be comfortable promoting hyper-violent dancehall songs like Wicked.

Speaking of, should you get a feeling of Cypress Hill on some of these tracks, that’s because DJ Muggs contributed a few beats (Now I Gotta Wet ‘Cha, We Had To Tear This Motherfucka Up, Check Yo Self). His brand of bouncy funk gives The Predator a bit more variety over DJ Pooh and Sir Jinx’ rugged boom-bap and g-funk, though I cannot deny I’m still missing The Bomb Squad sample-heavy style (who doesn’t though?).

Ice Cube’s third album does run a bit long, the aforementioned limited topics covered growing repetitive by the end. Ignoring that though, The Predator is still prime-era Cube, and absolutely worth your ears’ attention. His words were never more potent, yet remain just as pertinent.

Jaydee - Plastic Dreams

Epic: 1992/1993

Even in a scene filled with endlessly recycled one-hit wonders, Jaydee’s Plastic Dreams stands elite. Lord Discogs provides over one-hundred variations of the single, and nearly two-decade’s worth of updated remixes. Jaydee himself couldn’t help but make a Year 2000 remake, though I suppose he had to do something with it since he got around to releasing a Jaydee LP that year too. And while he's released other singles since Plastic Dreams, they've been infrequent and hardly remarked upon. Hell, it wouldn't surprise me if most folks didn't know this single has an honest-to-God second original production on the B-side to go with the main attraction. Now hum Single Minded People for my amusement. Go on, it can't be hard – the track's right there beside three versions of Plastic Dreams. How can you not remember it?

Jaydee - or Mr. Albers to you, sir – probably never intended to have a career-defining hit like this single. A hunch, perhaps, an intuition that this tune had potential in capturing the underground's ear, but by and large he was simply another respectfully successful club DJ that found a comfortable role in early '90s dance music's changing tides. Still, though it was possible in those days to sustain a career behind the decks, Mr. Albers had a bit more ambition than that. So he set up a label, First Impression, and began producing various house and trance records under a few aliases. Plastic Dreams as Jaydee was one such early effort, and it caught the ear of several larger labels, including R & S Records and even the mighty Sony (by way of Epic). Soon the single was finding compilation duty on every CD they could worm it onto, from the most obscure underground trance mix to the biggest commercial discs in every major music chain (fun fact: Teenage Sykonee first come into contact with Plastic Dreams on a CD that included Culture Beat's Mr. Vain, Deep Forest's Sweet Lullaby, and Sunscreem's Pressure Us - oh, Sony).

Since everyone’s heard the original, let’s get into the remixes on this particular single. Wait, you haven’t heard it? You’ve no idea about the groovy, shuffly rhythm, pulsing blast of didgeridoo (I think that’s what it is), or jazzy Hammond organ licks? Sucks to be you, then. I ain’t gonna’ hand-guide you through all these classics. Required listening, it is, so get on it.

Anyhow, remixes. There’s a Trance Mix on here, because even though Plastic Dreams is considered a house classic, Jaydee felt it better served in trance mixes and compilations. Okay, probably not, but if you wanted to hear the track with a few bright synth splashes, without the organ, and monotonously looped for seven minutes, this is the mix for you. Or how about Jaydee’s Groove Mix, which does away with the great beats of the original and sticks in a rote house rhythm instead? But hey, at least the organ’s retained!

Yeah, neither remix is of much interest. Stick to the original, always.

Psychick Warriors Ov Gaia - Ov Biospheres And Sacred Grooves

KK Records/Restless Records: 1992/1993

Way back in ye' golden age of 1992, the Psychick Warriors ov Gaia sound-system was developing into a fresh live techno act, infusing tribal and trance elements at a time when such ideas were strange and rare (strictly Detroit or rave, yo;', some 'intelligent' too). Their first single appeared in 1990, as Exit 23. Soon enough, this lengthy-titled LP emerged, gaining respectable plaudits from those who'd stumbled upon it. Unfortunately, being tied to industrial-leaning label KK Records limited their exposure within techno circles, adding to their mystique.

Of course, seeing phrases like “sacred grooves” and “new edge folk classics” likely has a few of you hesitant, figuring these Psychick Warriors lean deep into the sappier elements of world beat or, *gasp*, New Age even. I'll grant there is a meditative element to their work, but it's rather as TUU approached the craft, drawing out your primitive psyche, forcing withdrawal of the human ego. There is only sound, there is only rhythm. We've returned to the source of our being, as the Ancients intended. Or something.

I should point out there are a few different versions of Biospheres And Sacred Grooves. Being of the lands where the North Americans dwell, my copy comes from alt-rock/punk/metal label Restless Records, which is different from the other North American release of PWoG’s debut, on Canadian label Cargo Records (also alt-rock/punk/metal) – yes, I betrayed my brethren with this used-disc purchase. While each version merges most of the tracks into two twenty-plus minute compositions (single Obsidian stands alone), the Restless CD added Exit 23 as well. How nice of them.

Considering the cult-like following PWoG gained, you'd think Biospheres And Sacred Grooves was an all-time classic LP. Eh, not really. There’s quite a bit of downtime, ambient noodling, and experimental minimalism, much of which comes from the CD-only compositions of Anathema Ov Jean Jacques Derrillard and New Edge Mantra, book-ends of the second ‘long track’ that includes The Challenge (Part 2) and The Key (Version). Are we confused yet? Because I’ve gone cross-eyed just trying to figure out how everything’s sequenced on this CD.

Forget the track list – here’s what you need to know. The Challenge (Part One) is the sort of sound everyone identifies PWoG with: tribal-techno, with dub effects, acid groove, and dark ambience, played in a minimalistic way that’d make Hawtin weak in the knees. Obsidian is more melodic and funkier, The Key (Version) gets its reggae-house vibe on, The Tides (They Turn) goes on the downtempo trip (yay bongos), and Exit 23 is… just weird and meandering, save a killer, creaking bassline worming its way about desolate, primordial sounds. The rest of Biospheres And Sacred Grooves is extraneous fluff.

Honestly, I wouldn’t even call this album a Very Important One, as PWoG’s sound was incredibly niche, and remains so to this day. That does make it a unique offering in the annals of techno though, reason enough to spring for a copy if you enjoy diversity in your collection.

2 Unlimited - No Limit (BioMetal, Part 4)

Quality Music: 1992/1993

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.)

“Time until total blackout?”

“Five minutes, General Wilde.”

He leaned forward at his cramped bridge console, and finished his ninth stim’ fix with a strong swig. A song played in his head, a tune so annoyingly memorable it seemed forever looped. Maybe it was his mind’s feeble attempt at distraction, relieving the stress of the mission. Everything hinged on his direction, his orders, and his intuition. Yet here were a couple of kids doing all the gruelling work for him. All he could do was sit and watch their progress, praying to the Elder Souls he’d given them all the tools they needed in the HALBARD for a successful mission. That, and a limitless amount of luck.

“Amazing they've made it so far,” Wilde muttered, but their time was almost out. The orbital frigate he operated from could only remain for a couple hours more before the BioMetals would detect it and send swarms of the creatures after them. If his two officers ploughing a course into the heart of the BioMetal lair failed in eliminating the central brain-hub and spawning nursery, he’d be left with no other option but complete planetary decimation, including Ray and Anita whether they still lived or not. They deserved a chance to succeed on their own, but Wilde knew where his obligations lay.

He rubbed both sides of his cheeks, sweaty palms scratching against a coarse layer of whiskers. A shave already? Truly his beard had no upper limit in its rate of growth. Probably sprouts faster than BioMetals.

He tapped an intercom button at his console, opening a channel to the science lab. “Dr. de Coster, how's the status of our fail-safe?”

“Sitting just p'urty, Sir,” came a reply. “Ol' Romy and Marion are ready if you want them.”

Wilde chuckled. Leave it to a 'mad' scientist to give such destructive weapons pet names. “I hope it won't come to that,” he replied. “Ray and Anita have exceeded my expectations. It's possible there's unlimited potential in the two. Their mission's gone from 'long shot' to 'possible chance' in rapid time, and I'm not about to waste their earned good will by destroying them in the process.”

“And if they don't make it back?”

Wilde pursed his lips. “We'll have to give 'Romy' and 'Marion' a try then, won't we. May the Elder Souls forgive us if we do though.”

“Haha, you sound as though their aftermath will swallow us in the process.”

Wilde switched the intercom off. If they don't succeed, I fear it just will at that.

He glanced back at his monitor, the tactical read-out of the BioMetal lair growing distorted. Then, with a garbled flash of radio-wave static, it went dark. The HALBARD’s signal disappeared, buried beneath tons of rock and twisted bio-mass. It was all on Ray and Anita to see the mission through to its end.

Pressing his clasped knuckles against his forehead, he gave a small, quiet prayer. May there be no limit to your gifts.


(If you're hopeless lost as to what's going on, click here.)

The Movement - The Movement (Original TC Review)

Arista: 1992

(2014 Update:
When I wrote this, the notion of 'step' as a jokey descriptor was long thought dead, a relic of '90s drum 'n' bass genre splintering. Then dubstep started getting popular, and soon we saw 'step' for any damn variation of music adding a half-step beat. Chillstep, brostep, trancestep, psystep, popstep, drumstep, whalestep, and so on. I wonder if anyone is bold enough to try hipnostep.

This review was fun to write, though filled with a ton of awful grammar, some of which I've cleaned up for this posting. I think it captures the guiltless giddiness one can still experience when listening to old school rave music, no matter how absurd some of it came off. Jump! remains good stupid fun in a way that's rare in today's stupid-fun music. You're damn straight I'm wearing Nostalgia Headphones for this!)


IN BRIEF: Aaaaaarrrrreeee yyoooooooouuuuuuu reeeeaaaaaaadddddyyyyy!!??

You gotta love the cheekiness of some groups. Hardly content at being lumped into the same category of rave hardcore tearing up parties across the Atlantic, Los Angeles based act The Movement came forth with their own style. Comprised of the blistering beats and hoover-rific hooks of Belgian raves, and adding hip-hop influences from rhythms to MCing, this brand new form of techno would burst forth from the southern California scene as they promoted their own brand of L.A. P.L.U.R. And this new revolutionary genre’s name? Hipno!

Yes, you read that right. Hipno. Never heard of it? If so, don’t feel bad; you’re not alone in the confusion.

Hipno. It’s the kind of name folks bullshitting stupid genre names would come up with: like braindance, or progressive dub, or boomcore, or bassline-house, or speed speedcore, or chicstep, or indie techno, or vocal trance, or ‘rocktronica’, or no-step ambientcore, or hip-hop tripstep fallcore, or progressive stepcore, or anything with ‘progressive’, ‘step’, or ‘core’, or... well, you get the idea.

Yet, The Movement were so proud of their clever new genre name, they went and had it trademarked on their label, Sunshine Entertainment Corp. Yes, you read that right too. Trademarked! How, exactly, do you trademark a genre name?

Ah, it doesn’t matter. What does is whether The Movement’s sound was worth trademarking a name for it. In a nutshell, this is hipno: one part 2 Unlimited knock-off; one part ragga MCing ; one part hip-hop beat interludes; mixed in the L.A. rave scene’s jovial attitude.

And you know what? It actually works!

Lead track Jump! makes no bones about what it aims to do. The intro rhythms warm you up, then break down to let Hazze (the MC) give you a countdown. “5... 4... 3... You know the rest!” Then, boom! You’re right into the thick of it with thumping beats, shout-a-long “jump everybody jump”s, and vintage old school rave synths. While the riffs may sound stuck in 1992, the rhythms for Jump! still carry incredible weight to them even today. Eventually, the song calms down, hip-hop beats boppin’ about before picking the pace up again, head ing out for a big finish. Man, but is this track ever a lot of-

Eh? What’s that? Oh, I have them on right now? Sorry about that.

*Removes Nostalgia Headphones*

Okay, Jump! is fun, but that enjoyment is based on pure novelty: listen to it once in a sitting, get a silly grin on your face, go with the flow, and move on. Problem is, The Movement don’t. While some acts can milk a simple formula for an album’s worth of material, The Movement clearly lack that level of aptitude, and you quickly realize they’re a one-trick pony.

Aside from the ragga-influenced Tell Tú Mama (another fun track, true, but rather by the book), every other original track (and there’s only three) follows the exact same pattern as Jump!. Same beats, same MCing, same synths, hell even some of the same riffs! The only thing that really changes much is the topic of the track: instead of jumping, Shake That — encourages you to shake your ass; Don’t O.D. gives a quaint warning against overdosing on drugs, which I’m sure made BMG happier about signing a rave act; B.I.N.G.O.... um, you remember the song with the dog, right? There’s bits of charm at some points (I’m still a sucker for the ‘aah’ pads in Don’t O.D., even without Nostalgia Headphones) but equally annoying things too. Let’s just say I wasn’t sad to see whistles fall out of popular favor in rave music.

So, what about all those mixes in the second half of the album? Do they tamper with the formula much? Not really, as all but one are done by The Movement anyway. The Funky Hipno Remix of Jump! relies the hip-hop beats rather pumping rave ones, and the Tribal Mix of B.I.N.G.O. settles for brisk, unremarkable rhythms. The other two may as well be extended mixes.

The one non-Movement remix comes of something of a surprise when you look at the production credits: Holographic Jump! is a remix by none other than Jam el Mar. And, while not the most brilliant remix Jam’s ever done, it’s certainly a nice change of sound on the release. Sure enough, he does the old school trance thing with Jump!, as loops layer over each other with spacey pads and simple rhythms. Sounding more like a Dance 2 Trance production than a Jam & Spoon one, the main riff he uses is quite raw, but then what hasn’t on here?

In the end, hipno died before it ever got off the ground, after which The Movement went onto other things, some with better success (Richard “Humpty” Vission has had a decent run as a house DJ since). Because this ‘revolutionary’ genre is hardly revolutionary at all, this album isn’t even worth picking up as a historical artifact of failed genres: it bears far too much similarity to regular old school rave music to be treated as anything but.

However, there is still some fun to be had with this. The lead single Jump! was probably one of the better hits of this kind of music, and although there isn’t much else to be had here, the unapologetic silliness of some of these tracks is good for a laugh if you’re just chilling out with friends. If you ever see this in a bargain bin or used shop, and can’t get enough of that old school sound, you could do worse.

(Special thanks to the folks at Discogs for some of those genre names)

Dance 2 Trance - Moon Spirits

Blow Up: 1992

The first trance album I ever owned, though I didn't buy it with that intent. Oh no, I was after a euro-dance album, and Dance 2 Trance was an act I recognized from a couple compilations. Throwing it on when I got home, the opening ambient-chant of Kayenta caught me off-guard – I wasn't expecting a Deep Forest clone! Then We Came In Peace played, and that's a cool melody, but why's this music so minimalistic and loopy? Wait, all these tracks are like this? That's weird, but not as weird as the lack of vocals. Ah well, I'm sure P.Ower Of A.Merican N.Atives will have Linda Rocco on- what the...! Nothing here either? Damn it, I must have gotten some bunk demo version of Moon Spirits. No wonder it was in a used shop. What a gyp.

It wasn’t long after when I clued in that Dance 2 Trance weren't euro-dance, but a number of years did pass before I understood their impact on electronic music at large. For these two guys, DJ Dag and Jam El Mar, invented trance. No, really, it was them. It’s right in their name, man!

Seriously though, their self-titled debut single was more of a New Beat thing, a popular mini-trend around mainland Europe of the early ‘90s. First released on Suck Me Plasma in early 1991, the B-side featured a curious little tune called We Came In Peace, stripping away New Beat’s aggressive EBM roots in favour of a hypnotic, space trip. Other Germans caught onto the sound, and soon labels were exclusively churning out the stuff. A genre and scene were born, enduring to this day despite many permutations since.

The clubbing success of that single and follow-ups like Where Is Dag? and Hello San Francisco got Dance 2 Trance onto a major label, Moon Spirits the inevitable LP that followed. I wonder if Dag and Jam were caught off guard by their success, because this is one raw album. We Came In Peace and P.o.A.N. are undeniable classics of the genre, but Sit Together, the Golden Gate Mix of Hello San Francisco, and even Where Is Dag? have the barest of musical ideas going for them, some synths and hooks outdated even by ’92 standards. Elsewhere, hazy downtempo cut Mr. Cannabis, prog-rocky Remember Exxon Valdez, and moody trance-grumbler Freaks have cool ideas running through them, yet too often sound muddy or half-baked. Compared to their following work like Take A Freefall (added to later editions of the album) much of this music lacks studio polish, as though rushed out to meet market demand.

Unfortunately, Moon Spirits isn’t an important album in trance’s history, totally skippable if you already have the singles off here. Dag and Mar would make better music following this, including as Dance 2 Trance. Check Moon Spirits out if you’re curious what an early-early crossover trance LP offered, but seeing as they were still trying to figure it out themselves, there’s a fair bit of miss with the hits.

Stone Temple Pilots - Core

Atlantic: 1992

Of course a teenager would have a grunge album in their collection if they were a teenager in the early '90s. Wait, I never did, firmly planting my flag with 'techno' and making little concessions for other musics thereafter. I did have a single mixtape with some Nirvana on it, but that was about as obligated to the grunge scene as I ever got. Still, I have to give the former owner of these CDs credit, collecting mostly obscure grunge. No Pearl Jam, no Nirvana, no Alice In Chains, no Hole, no Smashing Pumpkins, and no Mudhoney; there is a Bush album with the lot I got though. Hey, Teenage Ishkur, why didn't you have most of the recognizable grunge bands with your CDs?

Teenage Ishkur: My older brother has them.

Oh. Well that makes sense.

Stone Temple Pilots may also be an obvious inclusion, but only if you have Purple. Carried by two of their most successful hits in Vaseline and Interstate Love Song, not to mention an iconic cover I’m sure Billy Corgan took notes on, the band’s sophomore effort has gone down as the only album by Stone Temple Pilots you’re supposed to have, even if you’re not a fan of Stone Temple Pilots. Can’t say I was much of a fan myself, always mistaking Vaseline as a song by some other grunge act. By the time I did properly notice them, it was during the promotion of their third album, Tiny Music... Songs From The Vatican Gift Shop, specifically the Big Bang Baby video. With its cheesy So-Cal style, it was all kinds of silly, which I understand was the point, but 1996 Sykonee sure didn’t know that. Stone Temple Pilots thus remained with the rest of grunge on my ‘Don’t Give A Shit About’ list.

As with many things lately, I’ve reconsidered that foolhardy teenaged assumption. Their debut album, Core, is far more kick-ass than I thought it would be, and I see why this band was held in the same breath as Pearl Jam and Nirvana. Hell, with Scott Weiland really getting his Eddie Vedder on, they even sound like Pearl Jam, albeit with far heavier guitars front and centre. It’s like what Metallica might have sounded like if they’d emerged from grunge instead of thrash, a ridiculous comparison, true, but one that my limited exposure to this music made nonetheless.

When Core came out, Stone Temple Pilots were derided as bandwagon jumpers by the regular rock press, a not unfair judgement considering their early work as Mighty Joe Young was more eclectic. That said, this debut is also a competently written and strongly executed album from a group that had earned their stripes in the trenches. For that fact, Core has endured as a minor classic of the early ‘90s hard rock scene. Purple may be more essential to the casual, but if you’re gathering up grunge for your music collection, Core definitely deserves a spot on your shelves too.

Snap! - The Madman's Return

Arista: 1992

Objectivity? Oh ho ho ho, that’s a good one! I wore the shit out of my original tape – yes, tape! – a frequent go-to collection of tunes for when I wanted something ‘dark’ and ‘heavy’ during my teenaged honeymoon year of ‘techno’ discovery. Of course, Snap!’s sophomore album The Madman’s Return is hardly dark or heavy when sat against the underground of ’92, but compared to the curiosity of early ‘90s chart topping EDM, perhaps so. Euro dance as we know of it today had yet to properly emerge (Rhythm Is A Dancer certainly helped get things rolling though), while New Jack Swing and hip-house was at its apex before crumbling away. Kriss Kross’ Jump, House Of Pain’s Jump Around, and Bobby Brown’s Humpin’ Around were some of the biggest hits of that year – guess everyone just wanted to jump ‘n hump around in ’92.

Snap! itself was going through changes, a conflict of ideas for their next move. The rapper Turbo B wanted to go more hip-hop, heavily inspired by the political words of Public Enemy and the like. However, Münzing and Anzilotti- whoops, I mean Benites and Garrett III, the German producers lurking in the studio, preferred moving on from urban, the sounds of Belgian beat, trance, and 'techno' catching their ears instead.

The Madman’s Return is something of a compromise from each, the result of which an album that’s surprisingly unique and holds up two decades on (ahaha! ‘Objectivity’…). The opener’s essentially a hip-house tune with Turbo B going on about how he’s back and ready to start some shit, but coupled with clanking percussion, acid, and a deliciously grimy hook, it’s unlike any hip-house you’ve ever heard before or after. Later, Mr. B goes off on the nature of sampling in Who Stole It?, and brags a bunch on the ridiculously heavy-beat tune Money. Sure, he’s not gonna have Chuck D sweating anytime soon, but the typical euro-dance rapper’s firmly put into touch by his wordplay.

Unfortunately, the other half of the album has ol’ Durron making sexy come-ons (Colour Of Love, Believe In It, Don’t Be Shy) or offering simplistic platitudes (See The Light). The tunes themselves aren’t half-bad, mind, though the former bunch are clearly attempting to recreate the success of the first album’s Mary Had A Little Boy. Meanwhile, See The Light is Snap!’s go at another ‘techno’ hit, and you can hear Turbo B struggling for enthusiasm for it. Heck, you could also hear it in the original single of Rhythm Is A Dancer, which makes the stripped-down album version all the more awesome – instead of a silly rap, simple spoken dialog conjuring an apocalyptic future. I told you this album’s dark!

Snap! were often derided when they were still active, but as the majority of crossover EDM grew ever more shallow and tripe, folks have warmed to group’s strong production and pop perfection. The Madman’s Return is easily their peak, transitioning from fluff urban to fluff trance in a remarkably gritty way.

The Shamen - LSI (Love Sex Intelligence)

Epic: 1992

The Shamen were a pretty big deal in the UK, one of those seminal bands of the British acid house wave that many talk of reverentially. For the longest time though, I couldn't understand why – Hell, I still struggle with it. Maybe it's just bad luck on my part, my first exposure to them primarily the chart action goofy shit like Ebeneezer Goode and Destination Eschaton; it'd be like only knowing The Beatles by Yellow Submarine and Ob La Di, Ob La Da. This here LSI (Love Sex Intelligence) single sure didn't help convince me of The Shamen's legacy, plucked from a used store shelf in the hope of learning what the big deal was.

The lead single off Boss Drum, them boys of The Shamen have a message here, yo'. Sex, it can be dangerous if you don't know what you're doing, mang, 'cause everybody be gettin' AIDS an' shit (...wait, wrong decade). So be smart about your hook-ups – even better, hook-up for love, not party-induced lustiness. It'll be better for the heart and soul in the long outlook, isn't that right? Yeah... yeah. Or, I dunno, I barely pay attention to the lyrics, as redundantly repetitive as they are. Maybe they were pressured into doing a 'positive sex education' single, to show that they weren't all about mashy rave bedlam as the press would have you believe. And when the UK media still wasn't buying it, go all in with Ebeneezer Goode.

Okay, good message, but oddly dated to the early ‘90s despite, for all intents, it should be timeless. Maybe it’s just the delivery, or because the smash-hit sex education single of that time, Salt-N-Pepa’s Let’s Talk About Sex, draws every similar tune into its sphere of association.

Enough words, let’s get into the music proper. The original is UK acid house, including little trance-voice plucks for a hook and a chuggy rhythm. Erm, not progressive house though, as it’s too brief and clearly aimed at the charts. Maybe one of the remixes would tap that genre, but if it did, the US version never got it. Instead we get the requisite House Remix (done by The Beatmasters, of course), another House Remix care of E-Smoove (a bit more garage on this one), the requisite Techno Remix provided by Ed Richards, and the requisite Rave Remix by Frank De Wulf. Yep, I believe that’s all the markets covered, at least where America was concerned. Maybe the Germans got a Trance Remix on their copies. They’re all functional tools for the time, and I can’t see anyone needing them in their arsenal these days, beyond a “hey, remember The Shamen?” moment in a set. And even then, LSI is one of the last tracks I can think of getting such a rinse-out.

The Shamen put out quite a few clever productions in their time. Sadly, LSI isn’t one of them, and figures I’d end up with a dull collection of remixes at that. The search continued...

Neil Young - Harvest Moon

Reprise Records: 1992

Two decades after delivering an album everyone loved, Neil Young finally released a pseudo sequel to Harvest, this here CD titled Harvest Moon. Everyone loved that one too, though aside from the titular song, it didn't quite reach the same level of commercial success. There were undoubtedly many reasons for it – chief among them Harvest Moon's very laid-back country vibes not exactly jiving with mainstream interests in the year 1992 (who cares about that old hippie crooner when we got Michael Bolton serenading the airwaves!) - but like so many albums in Young's discography, it's endured as a proper classic, spawning memorable tunes you're likely to still hear in concert during his acoustic moments.

Funny thing is, though the idea behind Harvest Moon sounds like a shoo-in, it likely wouldn't have happened had circumstances nearly forced him into making the album. Consider: Young had had twenty years to round up The Stray Gators again, take a trip to Nashville, and deliver an album full of charming, radio-friendly country-rock folk. Yet he never did, his occasional trips to the mid-west finding him exploring proper-country instead; only a few of the original session musicians were brought in for those albums. So what convinced him to finally do what his fans wanted for years upon years?

Hearing damage, mostly. Following the raucous Weld tour with Crazy Horse, Young’d developed a bad case of tinnitus, forcing him to tone his music down for a while. Okay, and a two decade anniversary wasn't such a bad incentive either.

That said, he couldn't exactly repeat Harvest. Aside from generally better production (such lush echo and reverb here!), the lyrics and themes Young was exploring as he neared his fifties were quite different compared to topics of 1972. Condemnations of southern States attitudes? That's small time stuff compared to global issues like war (War Of Man) and environmentalism (Natural Beauty). Also, how could he write songs about forlorn love when he’d been happily married for years? Just won’t work anymore, so instead we have music reflecting on the friendships he’s had (From Hand To Hendrix, One Of These Days, and, um, his dog in Old King), the relationship he’s in (Harvest Moon and Such A Woman), and perhaps even where he may end up (You And Me). Fairly broad topics, all said, but Young has a way of making them feel intimate, as either a window into his own feelings, or as a message for those who can relate to his lyrics.

In the Harvest review, I quipped that many Boomers likely turned to that album as post-partying comfort music. I’ll freely admit that Harvest Moon has served a similar purpose for myself on occasion, a nostalgic calm even for things I’ve yet to experience. That, in a nutshell, is why Young’s endured for so long: writing music that isn’t bound by specific generations, but by earnest, human feelings, and he’s at his best here. No matter the age, someone will find something relatable in Harvest Moon.

2 Unlimited - Get Ready

Quality: 1992

What shame is there with this one? It shouldn’t even be a surprise, as I’ve many times proclaimed 2 Unlimited one of the best acts to emerge from the eurodance scene of the early ‘90s, if not the best. Their hits are timeless in a way so much ‘techno’ of that era isn’t. Of course, it doesn’t hurt they’ve been ridiculously whored out to every sports arena ever, endlessly lodging their catchy hooks and stompin’ beats into the collective consciousness of stadium participants across the globe. Still, if it worked for AC/DC, why not some plucky Belgian group too?

What’s made hits like Get Ready For This and Twilight Zone enduring is how slick they sound, even by today’s standards (you can pump these tunes today and get the same reaction). They’re using all the tropes Belgian rave was popular for, but compared to the underground grit of most records of the time, this stuff has crossover appeal right out the gate. Throw in raps and vocals care of Ray Slijngaard and Anita Dels, and you’ve a formula that went on to be heavily imitated for years to come, though seldom exceeded.

What about this here proper debut album, Get Ready!, then? Everyone knows the hits, but did their album material ever warrant a look? Pft, if you were a fan, damn skippy it did, but I'm not gonna preach to the choir. Sit down and take a gander at what Album-Orientated-Unlimited involved in ye' olde year 1992.

First off are two more hits, The Magic Friend and Workaholic. The former's one of those goofy tunes that was fine back in the day, but doesn't hold up out of its era. Workaholic, however, still packs a punch, a bizarre scratchy synth forming the basis of the main lead; the 'Big Ben' intro also often gets used at sporting events (“get to work, home team!”). The coarse nature of this tune (including that classic “who the fuck are you” sample), along with strong cuts like Rougher Than The Average, Contrast, and Delight show 2 Unlimited still had a sense of the rave scene they spawned from, despite the underground totally disowning them by that point.

Then there are the ballads. Fuck... Forget them, especially the dire Eternally Yours; utterly sap r'n'b knockoffs.

Interestingly, as 2 Unlimited's popularity grew large enough to export Get Ready! upon American shores, some changes were made to the album. Instead of having dedicated sections for Vocal Mixes, Instrumental Mixes, and (ugh) romance, the tunes were re-arranged for stronger album flow. Instrumentals of the non-hits were removed, and the B-side to Get Ready For This, Pacific Walk, was added, a downtempo bit of balearic chill, interesting as a curiosity in 2 Unlimited's discography.

Get Ready is an odd album, all things considered, stuck at a crossroad between raves of before and eurodance of the future. Despite production quality leagues above their contemporaries, the rough edges still show, giving it scrappy fun flavor later releases would lack.

Nine Inch Nails - Fixed

TVT Records: 1992

With the release of Pretty Hate Machine, Trent Reznor made his Nine Inch Nails project an overnight success story. In adding more punk angst, it dragged the industrial scene out of quirky obscurity where only noise terrorists and silly jack-booted Belgians and Candadians existed, and back into the radar of rock enthusiasts. Sensing the momentum, the ensuing NIN tour utilized far more thrash, which further inspired Reznor in the studio while making the Broken EP, abandoned most of their debut’s obvious electronic influence altogether. Or maybe he was just really, really, really pissed off by TVT Records’ control over his work. Anyhow, Broken was a success as well, but the band never bothered with a tour for it, likely because Reznor was already in the process of making The Downward Spiral. And with that, I thank you, oh Lord Wiki.

In the meanwhile, a remix EP for Broken was released, titled Fixed. Remixes for industrial were hardly new, but as NIN leaned quite heavy into rock’s arena at this time, it probably came off confusing to all the thrash kids eager for more. Tough beans, chaps, you’re about to get a history listen here, as Coil’s in the mother-fuckin’ studio. Something of a super-group of the early-early industrial scene, having the duo lend their noisy blessing to Reznor’s project properly legitimized NIN with even the most stubborn doubters. Their mix of Gave Up chops the tune up and adds plenty of electronic noise, but the beats are almost pure rave (Belgian new beat!) with their clicky-clack percussion complementing.

Another industrial luminary shows up for a remix of the kick-ass Wish, J.G. Thirlwell, he of Foetus fame. He takes the thoroughly thrash elements of the tune, runs ‘em through a sample grinder, and adds more tribal rhythms. Hey, this shit is even better than the original! At nine-plus minutes, it’s like the Awesome Extended Mix, or something. (in case you couldn’t enough of that, there’s also Fist F*@$ at the other end of the EP, essentially the ‘dub’ version)

The other three Fixed tracks are Reznor and bandmate Chris Vrenna tinkering with the song themselves. Their re-rub of Happiness In Slavery is more of a regular EBM take on the tune, while Throw This Away and Screaming Slave sound like experimental test-runs of what The Downward Spiral would feature in finished form. Not essential, but it does provide the EP with a little variety.

Remix EPs have a tendency to be pointless fluff, save the odd killer cut (hint: that’s Wish in this case), but Reznor wanted Fixed to stand on its own just as solidly as the Broken EP, and as a body of Nine Inch Nails music, this CD is definitely one of the stronger singles to be found. This band was only getting better as the ‘90s took form. Thank fuck I’m finally discovering this, even if I’m two decade late to the party.

The Prodigy - Experience (Original TC Review)

XL Recordings: 1992

(2013 Update:
This review feels dated now, even though, technically, The Prodigy have yet to make any sort of proper reclaim to fame. An interesting thing happened a few years after I wrote this, though: old school hardcore started receiving props again, with acts making one-off throwbacks, and even occasional 'concept' albums; all the while, an American (re)fascination with raving undoubtedly has the group getting name-checked far more often than any point during the decade prior.

I should mention the writing here reflects my transitional phase from track-by-track detailing. It's not as cumbersome as my earliest reviews, but there are still clunky chunks of grammar. Rough around the edges, much like Experience!)


IN BRIEF: It’s got the beat; that’s all we need.

When I randomly pulled this from my collection of music to review, the first thought that came to me was, “Why should I review this? It’s a decade and a half old; everything that could be said regarding Experience has been said and then some. Besides, with The Prodigy’s relevance inconsequential these days, it’s not like-”

And then I was struck dumb for a moment. Could it really be true? The Prodigy were no longer relevant? I’m not just talking about fading from popular musical taste, but that, for all the groundbreaking material that was released under the Prodigy banner, almost none of it has the slightest bearing on modern tastes. For anyone associated with electronic music throughout the previous decade, this comes as a bit of a shock.

Hands up if you grew up during the ‘90s. Remember just how big the Prodge were? Even with three albums that bore scant resemblance to one another, their impact was undeniable. Numerous hit singles. Multiple sub-genres spawned. Dynamic live show. Take-no-prisoners attitude. Hell, they even managed to break typical ‘dance sux’ mainstream America! Every young EDM fan had that moment when they paused and, much like Led Zepplin for rock fans, declared The Prodigy the best ever (even if that opinion changed within a day).

But Liam Howlett’s musical dry spell hurt, and a new batch of partiers emerged without a Prodigy experience (having to settle for superstar trance DJs instead, poor bastards). In a scene where trends take little time to change, Howlett was left to play catch-up rather than lead the charge as he always had. The new generation of ravers saw little interest in looking back to the past when they had their own scene. The Prodigy, once an unbeatable force no one could stop, became a token footnote regarding ‘90s trivia and ‘funny hairstyles in music’.

If the Prodigy material was firmly stuck in the ‘90s, this would be understandable. Like any Height-Ashbury folk rock act, they’d retain a level of respect but would still be unable to escape the era that spawned it. However, Howlett’s productions aren’t stuck in the ‘90s. Sure, they may conjure up ravey-raves or ‘electronica’ promos, but many tracks remain just as effective today as they were a decade ago, even without nostalgic blinders.

For all its old school hardcore trappings, Experience can still pummel a party fourteen years on. The opening four-track stanza - Jericho, Music Reach, Wind It Up, and Your Love - is as much an endurance test as it is a collection of songs. Howlett’s rhythms are super-fast and utterly relentless, yet always fascinating to hear, mixing up a dynamic blend of innovative breakbeats with stadium-sized resonance. Even Hyperspeed, despite a lengthier intro than the tracks prior to it, gives no respite, unleashing some of the most devastating beats on Experience. And Charly, though stripped down compared to the others, still packs a punch. Whatever Howlett did to create such powerful drums and basslines has endured far better than numerous copycats could ever have hoped.

But enough talk of the rhythms, you say. What about melodies and hooks? Unfortunately, this has always been where Experience stumbles. To be frank, most of them merely serve the rhythms: synth stabs giving extra punch to a kick; strings providing atmosphere; etc. Take out most of Liam’s beats, and you’d get very generic old school rave hooks that could fit into any number of producers’ discography.

This isn’t to say they aren’t catchy or even enduring. The uplifting pianos of Wind It Up or hoover fun of Charly still work today, and little things in the other tracks have moments of charm as well. However, you get the impression it didn’t matter what Howlett did to complement his rhythms - they were so good that anything could work, so he just grabbed a few proven techniques of the era rather than make his own styles.

Hell, maybe Liam himself realized this all too well. How else can one explain the absurd Out Of Space. Is there anything more loony than a boing sound? (well, maybe a kazoo) This track could very well be a piss-take on the very sound he popularized, showing no matter how corny the surrounding hooks, samples, effects, and even accompanying video got, the beats would still carry the track to awesomeness. Amazingly (and perhaps ironically), it went on to be one of their fans’ all-time favorite tracks.

The strength of Howlett’s breakbeats is further exemplified by Everybody In The Place, because this is the one track on Experience they are missing! Making use of a standard four-to-the-floor rhythm at a heightened BPM, this track comes off quite bland amongst the surrounding company, and unfortunately shows just how weak many of the hooks are without the dynamite breaks.

Still, Howlett was determined to show he had skill in other facets of music, so despite being stuck making mostly hyperfast breakbeats around this time, he managed to squeeze in an ‘epic’ track called Weather Experience, where two-thirds of the song are spent on sweeping string synths and chunky hip-hop beats. It’s a welcome respite from all the manic energy to be had on this album, and its slow build towards bubbling acid and a chaotic climax is quite cinematic in musically re-creating a sudden storm.

It might have been a mistake to include it though, because it leaves the follow-up tracks sounding incredibly lackluster in comparison. Fire and Jungle Bizness, while having some energy to them (you just can’t deny them riddims), aren’t nearly as interesting as the tracks that came in the first half of Experience. They sound more like tag-ons than killer tracks to finish an album off strong.

No matter. Experience does finish strong in spite of this with Death Of The Prodigy Dancers. You’d think a live track would sound completely out of place here, yet it’s a perfect capper. The Prodigy were always at their best performing live, and this track is as much meant for live gigs as anything. A complete acid thrash-fest, it was simply designed to put dancers Leeroy and Keith through their paces for the audience to witness. As Maxim’s MCing encourages them on while super-charging the crowd, you can only imagine what dazzling footwork Leeroy was displaying or what manic theatrics Keith was parading. And with your imagination doing the work, Death Of The Prodigy Dancers easily gets you pumped even if the sound quality isn’t as sharp as all the other tracks.

And that’s why, even if The Prodigy aren’t as relevant in today’s scene, they can still hook in new fans with ease when given the chance. Howlett may have gone on from Experience to become a better songwriter but there’s still an exuberant innocence on display here. The energy was overflowing at this early stage, and its infectiousness has become timeless. “Check it out!”and “Let it rock you!”

Madonna - Erotica

Sire: 1992

Madonna is Madonna Louise Veronica Ciccone, a very important person in the world of pop. She was among a handful of artists of the ‘80s instrumental in bringing dance music back to the mainstream, thanks in large part to several memorable and provocative videos MTV gleefully had in rotation. Of course, it was dressed up as synth-pop and such, but club culture knew it was just disco in new clothing. Ol’ Madge knew it too, as her career often flirts with the best of contemporary beats for mainstream consumption. At the turn of the ‘90s, however, many pop stars of the previous decade were floundering, unable to keep pace with what folks wanted. Even Madonna was coming off dated, but unlike her peers, she held a savvy for the music business few could compete with. Re-invention was called for, but into what? The answer was two-fold: erotic cinema and underground clubs.

S&M culture was, um, penetrating the mainstream consciousness, hit movies and music like Basic Instinct and Enigma’s Sadeness impossible to ignore. Ms. Ciccone took notice and re-imagined her sex appeal, going from pop-punk pixie with a dash of virgin-whore to full-on sex vamp dominatrix. The general audience wasn’t quite ready for that, outcries of her scandalous behavior turning folks away from her latest efforts (even more so). For Madonna, however, it was still a success, in that if her art couldn’t remain in the mainstream, at least her name did, which was more than could be said for her ‘80s peers.

Meanwhile, her musical career held strong with those that never turned their back on her. By diving deep into the realm of chugging house and New Jack Swing, Madonna found a comfortable home with a new breed of club culture revolving around alternate lifestyles and fetish wear. Shep Pettiborne, a DJ and remixer of several similar dance-pop acts, was tasked with giving Ms. Ciccone the beats needed for maximum eroticism while still keeping one foot close to the edge of the mainstream should anyone curious about descending into those S&M basements choose to do so. Erotica, Deeper And Deeper, Fever, Bye Bye Baby, and Thief Of Hearts are about as solid of tunes as you can expect with the players involved. This whole album is remarkably consistent, seldom straying from its sexy, provocative tone. You of course have to include a couple ballads, but even tracks like Rain, Bad Girl, and In This Life are fine offerings.

Erotica won’t receive plaudits from purists (does anything of hers?), but it’s hard to deny the album succeeds in providing strong clubs rhythms with smart, seductive vocals. If you need an example of how miserably this can fail, just look at any of Madonna’s recent output. It worked here though, likely because Ms. Ciccone didn’t have her eyes squarely set on mainstream acceptance. By willingly diving into the warm latex embrace of this underground world, she came out with one of the best albums of her career.

Various - Electric Dance Floor

Quality Music: 1992

Another Quality compilation. Hey, it's not my fault the label was so omnipresent with dance music in my country. I'm sure elsewheres had similar labels that monopolized genres. These days everything with commercial success is routed through the majors, but for that early 90s period, electronic music was somewhat specialized, requiring specialized labels. Still, I never realized just how much Quality pushed EDM, assuming rock, country, and other 'adult music' was their forte. Way back it was, yet for some reason they were the first Canadian label to properly jump on dance music, shaping the tastes of many a potential doe-eyed raver.

That all said, this Quality compilation isn't much quality. Best I can tell, Electric Dance Floor was intended to be a running series focusing on house music. Makes sense, as Quality was establishing many compilation series in '92: top dance hits with Dance Mix, underground techno with Radikal Techno, Chris Sheppard’s releases, and so on. This coming out just before the euro dance explosion, the emphasis on thick American grooves is abundant. Also, the occasional nod to UK rave pops up, but nothing overt.

Unfortunately, house music in '92 wasn't in the best shape. The first three tracks definitely owe some thanks to Frankie Knuckles, but his style by this point was coming off rather dated; ironic, then, that as generic as Aly-Us' Follow Me, Nightmare On Wax’s Set Me Free, or Gypsyman's Hear The Music might have been, that style is all the retro-hip fashionable now. Strictly Rhythm was almost on the verge of shaking that scene up, but here they’re still going with what worked before. Oh, and we also get that damn Living In Ecstasy track from B.K.S. again, because it’s Quality, y’know.

And those are mostly the best tracks. Much of Electric Dance Floor contains generic house trying to cash in on whatever novelty trends it could. Walking In Memphis lamely jumps on that year’s bandwagon of sampling the Marc Cohn song of the same name. Robyx (as Scattt - yes, three ‘t’s) attempts a scat-dance cut, beating Scatman by a few years in that at least. There’s a weak remix of Double You’s charming Please Don’t Go, dull Belgian beat in Ole Ole, a pointless dance cover of one of Bryan Adams’ few great songs in Run To You, Mood II Swing hiding under a pseudonym to deliver rote garage... cripes, this is a bad compilation.

Okay, two things do stand out for the good. Liberation’s Liberation (Liberty) is a fun bit of UK acid house, and highly recommended if you’re a fan of that sort of thing. On the utterly daft side of dance is DSK’s remix of 2 Unlimited’s Get Ready For This. Truthfully, a proper title should be Get Ready VS Stella. Yes, that J&S track; 'Majan Noops' indeed. It’s by no means a great mash-up, but if you ever wondered what it might sound like, there you go. Has to be heard to be believed.

Deep Forest - Deep Forest

Columbia: 1992

Deep Forest was far from the first to do ‘ethnic samples with a dance beat’, but no one else had as much commercial success with it as Eric Mouquet and Michel Sanchez on their self-titled debut, including themselves. For better or worse (mostly worse), it kicked off the pop side of world beat (‘global pop’?) flooding the Easy Listening sections of music stores with Pure Moods compilations and such bilge. For every half-decent tune that’d emerge from that scene, there’d be dozens of cheap knock-offs cozying up with New Age and smooth jazz composers. *shudder*

Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, though. In 1992, ethnic sampling was still fashionable and Deep Forest happened across a few such samples that provided them with the blueprints to make some pretty decent music. Much like that other French guy who was behind Enigma, their initial success lay in appealing to club culture first - the crossover fame came later. Over half the album is uptempo and dancefloor friendly, well-worn drum loops and tribal grooves dominating their wordly vision. It’s almost a shame Deep Forest’s primarily known for chill out music, as the beats provided in Deep Forest, Savana Dance, and White Whisper give most mainstream club rhythms of the time a run for their money.

But yes, it’s the pygmy chants that stood Deep Forest out from the crowd. I’d hardly call what they do with their samples unique, but they are creative and memorable. Whether as full verses or snippets to form parts of backing melodies, these voices from Africa (and the Solomons) worm their way into your ears such that you’ll be humming the words along despite not knowing what’s being said. Their technique was so effective that Sweet Lullaby became an international sensation. Yay global unity!

For the electronic geek in me, two other things make Deep Forest especially enjoyable. First, pads. Oh yes, pads again. Even when there’s a vigorous beat or emphatic chant, so many lovely, calm ambient textures flow through this album, never devolving into New Age noodle-pap, a remarkable feat considering the musical context. Also, though obviously dated by current standards, Mouquet and Sanchez make ample use of stereo effects, samples and percussion weaving back and forth across the channels, turning this into a fun little headphone album.

Deep Forest was re-released a couple years later as World Mix, which added an additional song Forest Hymn and assorted remixes (including a couple from Apollo 440, whereby Deep Forest returned the favor by remixing Liquid Cool, appearing on that Sasha & Diggers mix). I’d imagine this version’s the cheaper of the two just for this fact, but it’s not like either are rare. This was a multi-platinum album and despite some dated artifacts of the era it was produced, still holds up well enough. It has none of the sap you’d expect from mainstream world beat, and never oversells its intents. It’s global music at its charming best.

Michael Brook - Cobalt Blue

Virgin: 1992

So here’s the story. I was discovering ambient proper for the first time and, like all doe-eyed newbies to a genre, didn’t know who I should be looking for. Fortunately, there was this thing called the internet and, by typing the word “ambient” into search engines like Alta Vista and Webcrawler, I stumbled upon various text-only websites consisting of lists and the odd review. “Sweet,” says I, “look at all these albums.” But, a dilemma!

Being on such a thrifty teenager budget, I can afford only one CD at a given time (stop sniggering, you kids, this is pre-Napster era). Even worse, I’m stuck in the hinterlands of Canada, where the only non-Top 40 music you’ll find in a given shop is country or blues rock. Fortunately, there’s an ace up my sleeve; or rather, a mother in Vancouver. By sending her a request, she can pick anything up in the city's many record shops. What to get, though? Hm, this Brian Eno guy appears highly on all the Top 10 lists. Music For Airports? Guess I’ll give that a shot. Time passes, and Mum informs me that the shop she went to didn’t have Music For Airports. They did recommend something else, however, that’s like Brian Eno: Michael Brook’s Cobalt Blue.

And that’s how I’m talking about it in the here and now. Though an incorrect purchase, damn if it wasn’t a good one.

Heck, the Eno brothers even show up on a couple tracks (Slow Breakdown, Red Shift, and a few others listed later), lending Brook their talents with distinctive Eno sounds. Ol’ Michael’s the real star of his album though, crafting several wonderful, lovely pieces with various guitar tones as the main focus. There’s the odd dabble into something wordly (Skip Wave) but Mediterranean moods dominate. And don’t let the Eno association fool you, as this isn’t noodly drone ambient. Nay, there’s percussion to be found, bass slaps, a multitude of different instruments, tempos, and even vocal samples, all served up with ethereal production gloss that’s astounding for the year it was released in.

There is a gripe to be had, however: song length. They just don’t last long, and each tune seems filled with musical ideas that beg to be further explored but instead come across like dense jams. It’s no surprise the best songs (Andean’s otherworldliness, Ultramarine’s other otherworldliness, Urbana’s tribalism, and Ten’s tranquility) have proper beginnings and ends, containing cohesive musical narratives throughout their running times, short though they still may be.

Fortunately, it isn’t a deal breaker. Chances are you’ve heard Michael Brook's style at some point - what, you thought The Edge came up with the Infinite Guitar sound in With Or Without You? - but any true connoisseur of ambient music needs to seek this album out. You may not be so lucky to have a mother accidently get it for you.