The Black Dog - Spanners

Warp Records/EastWest Records America: 1994/1995

The only The Black Dog album you’re supposed to have, even if you’re not a The Black Dog fan. At least for casual music consumers, it was the only proper album you would get from them, because it was the only one most folks knew about. Their early self-released material may have been seminal works of leftfield techno, but mostly languished in obscurity from all but the most enlightened heads. It wasn’t until they snagged a spiffy deal with Warp Records that everyone finally took notice there was something interesting going on from this UK trio. Alas, those who initially slept on their early material would never see a glorious run following Spanners, Andy Turner and Ed Handley leaving to pursue their Plaid prospects. That left Ken Downie in the dust, Black Dog receding into an on/off project until hooking up with a pair of Dust brothers (no, not those Dust Brothers …or those other ‘Dust Brothers’) into a Black Dog Renaissance enjoyed to this day. It looked dicey for a while though, Spanners but a tantalizing tease for a promising legacy.

Another thing that propels Spanners above every other LP the group put out during the project’s Phase I era is how it’s the most album-album of all this period’s releases. Bytes was more a compilation of the group’s solo projects, Parallel a gathering of their earliest singles. Temple Of Transparent Balls, while officially The Black Dog’s first full-length, still came off like a smattering of disconnected tracks, understandable given the disparate muses the group clearly had. Spanners could have come off the same way too, had they not done a bit of clever track sequencing, linking the various main tracks with minute-length transitional pieces, or Bolts, as they titled them. They’re the glue holding Spanners together.

No, seriously, it’s remarkable how flowing this album is thanks to these experimental doodles. Opener Raxmus is a dub heavy piece of trip-hop business thick with THC haze, while second proper track Barbola Work sounds like the charmingly chintzy techno-salsa Yello might have made. These tunes have nothing in common, yet they sound natural in such close proximity thanks to Bolt 1’s weird, brief sonic experiments bridging the two. And Spanners is like this throughout!

Some track pairings don’t require Bolting, the ten-minute Detroit techno cut Psil Cosyin leading wonderfully into the tribal ambient thump of Chase The Manhattan. On the other hand, the laidback pastoral-hop of Pot Noddle only works in isolation, especially considering follow-up End Of Time is about as straight-forward a spaced-out techno cut as The Black Dog ever did. Bolt that right up, ol’ ancient sci-fi sounds of Bolt 6!

I will say, however, that due to all these interstitial Bolts, Spanners does feel overlong - nineteen tracks total, a third of which are Bolts. By the time final track Chesh is toying around with nods to modern classical harping, I’m about ready to tap out. So much eclecticism in this album. Just… so much…

Klaus Schulze & Pete Namlook - The Dark Side Of The Moog

Fax +49-69/450464/MIG: 1994/2016

Gathering up the many, many, many volumes of Pete Namlook and Klaus Schulze’s epic collaboration series The Dark Side Of The Moog was never much of a priority. For sure if I saw one on the cheap, I’d snatch that sucker up, but odds of that happening with any release from Fax +49-69/450464 or its reissue sub-label Ambient World are absurdly low. On the other hand, a spiffy box set that does all that grueling work for me? Well shit, son, sign me up for that! And it’s what MIG done did, releasing all eleven volumes of The Dark Side Of The Moog in three bundles, plus a few bonuses for good measure. Though I remained blasé about the concept of Old Berlin-School teaming up with New Berlin-School, I’d be a fool to not spring for at least a couple of these boxes. Naturally, that now means I must review Every. Single. CD. Time for a serious knowledge drop in the project, then, but self-imposed word count runs short, so let’s get into The Dark Side Of The Moog, volume one. Eh? Of course the first wasn’t given a proper numerical demarcation. Like ol’ Pete and Klaus had any idea this would become such a long lasting thing.

If anything, Mr. Kuhlmann seems a little star-struck in his contributions for their initial session. He freely admitted as such, encouraging Mr. Schulze to do what he do best – coerce musical exotica out of crusty analog gear – and he’d work around that. This wasn’t so much about bringing one of the O.G.s of synth music into the hip ‘90s, but exploring what ‘70s music could do given two decades of technological advancements. This does lend to a rather freeform approach to songcraft, but that’s always been the Berlin School methodology regardless. If anything, it had lost its way as many synth wizards looked at making bank during the ‘80s once their sounds caught on with mainstream crowds. Those that didn’t adapt their craft to pop production or movie scores were left in relative obscurity, only later rediscovered by meticulous archivists of synthesizer chronology. Dear God, is this ever turning into a fancy-schmancy history lesson. Back to music.

The Dark Side Of The Moog (Da’ Kickoff) contains ten tracks, each titled Wish You Were There - yeah, the Pink Floyd puns can’t stop, won’t stop. And calling these individual pieces tracks is a misnomer, everything equally split five minutes apiece, save a whopping six minute finale. There are definite segments throughout, as Klaus moves through spacey kraut, sci-fi effects, and grand displays of modern classical synths, but none of the indexes mark any particular transition. About the mid-point, an electro beat emerges, leaves for some more experimental wibbling, and finally we’re treated to a little classic trance business. Not much, mind, but Namlook’s presence is definitely felt in this final stretch, whereas most of the preceding portions he sat back letting Schulze strut his stuff. They’d get better at blending their sounds.

The Groove Corporation - Co-Operation

6 X 6 Records: 1994/1995

Another one of the great “what ifs?” of emergent UK house music, Electribe 101 was primed for crossover triumph. Talented musicians in the studio, a bourgeoning starlet in Billy Ray Martin on vocals, and Tom Watkins as their management (he of Pet Shop Boys’ success) – what could go wrong? After a strong debut album in Electribal Memories, things fell apart, including a Depeche Mode support tour that had fans booing them off stage. So it goes in this business though, and the players went their separate ways, Billy Ray Martin finding fame as a solo artist, and the remnants of Electribe 101 rebranding themselves as the reggae roots loving group Groove Corporation. And because the future G.Corp had a fondness of the dubbier side of that music, they fell in with the trendy ambient dub scene of the early ‘90s – having their studio in that movement’s home of Birmingham didn’t hurt either.

A couple early efforts on Beyond’s seminal Ambient Dub series gave Groove Corporation some underground buzz. They soon signed to the newly formed 6 x 6 Records (they of Sasha & Digweed’s Renaissance fame), their Passion E.P. giving them even greater buzz with the progressive house contingent. Things looked mighty good for the boys of G.Corp when Co-Operation finally dropped in 1994. It’s got the reggae soul, dubby-hop, and just enough crossover appeal for a record out in 1991. Ah, whoops, sorry, guys, but have you heard what Leftfield and Massive Attack were up to around this time? Kinda’ puts your sound a bit out of touch, no matter how classy it all comes off.

Things never get to ‘cod reggae’ levels on this album, but tracks like Showtime, How Did It Come To This, Rain, Twist & Change, and You feel strictly aimed for a little chart action. Can’t believe the UK was too fussed for these sounds anymore, especially from a group initially gaining its critical plaudits well away from the mainstream. Some of their proggy house tunes do make the cut (Roots Controller, Hypnotherapy, Passion), while others get right proper with the reggae dub action (Pray, This Is How I Stay, Ghetto Prayer), so Co-Operation does have a nice blend of both for favored parties of either or.

Still, maybe Groove Corporation suspected they were leaving their ambient dub followers in the dust with an album with such pop leanings, hence a limited edition version including a second CD of such music. This is where G.Corp’s in their element, tunes originating or remixed into dub instrumentals before repurposed with vocals on the Album Prime. Folks liked this bonus disc so much that Groove Corporation re-released it as an independent album with a couple additional tracks a few years after the fact, called Co-Operation Dub. Seems most of the group’s early compilation duty comes from this CD (A Voyage On The Marie-Celeste, Return Of The Skunk Unlimited Orchestra, Ghettoprayer (Deep Blue Dub)). Hm, maybe that’s why I have a bias towards it.

Bill Laswell - Axiom Ambient: Lost In Translation

Axiom: 1994

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

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

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

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

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

Various - Trance Europe 2.0

Cleopatra: 1994

I’ve mentioned this CD in passing before, how it was a transformative disc in the development of my musical tastes. Why, you might even say it was… trance-morphing! Or even- no, that’s all I got. Obviously timing was a critical factor, Trance Europe 2.0 finding its way to my ears just as I grew bored of generic euro dance of the day. Here was something a bit similar (all those hard German beats!), but with an edge to it; trippier, energetic, delicious acid sounds and galloping choir pads. The general lack of vocals didn’t hurt either, Teenage Sykonee having grown quite tired of trite pop lyrics.

Still, plenty CDs of the mid-‘90s could have given me a similar knowledge drop; heck, this wasn’t even my first collection of trance. What Trance Europe 2.0 did, however, was convince my impressionable young mind of what trance could be, what sort of scene the genre was cultivating across the Atlantic. You mean to say this spacey, hypnotic dance music is enjoyed by bizarre, hedonistic individuals painting themselves in elaborate costumes while consuming mind-bending love drugs? Holy shit, screw the guido clubs ‘techno’ was catering to, sign me up for that! While Sven Väth’s parties at Omen were reportedly of similar stock, I doubt Cleopatra had that in mind, rather going with the ‘techno-goth’ theme many of their early CDs ran with. You do you, Cleo’.

All of which has little bearing on whether Trance Europe 2.0 is worth your time here in the dire year of 2016 (God, just end it already). Probably not, most of the memorable tunes easily found elsewhere. Komakino’s big breakout hit Outface (G60 Mix) kicks things off, but the exact same track kicked off their album Energy Trancemission too. Beyond Your Dreams is also on here, another track from the Outface single. Their Final Fantasy alias also crops up with the track Sometimes, a blistering slice of German acid. And in case that wasn’t enough Fritsch and Hastik action, they also get a producer’s credit on the Shorty Bone cut Trancemission. Oh man, this track’s bonkers, hard trance with a clunky, tribal techno rhythm; sounds like an early Influid tune.

A few tracks on the obscure side round things out. Tranceformer was more known for cheese-ball vocal tunes, but their instrumental b-sides were surprisingly decent in their simplicity, two of which grace Trance Europe 2.0 (Hypnotized and Magic Mushrooms). Morpheus 7 had but one single, the fluffy, happy cut Follow Me Into My World (Orgy-Nal) receiving the nod here. Ravesign by Vector was also a one-off, yet got a little more compilation duty than others (including an appearance on a Techno Trax, apparently). Sweep! was more of a rave-house guy, but Glowflow is trancey enough for this CD. And Norman Feller makes a requisite appearance with old-timey track Drift Away from his Trance-House single. And yes, I adore all these tunes! It wouldn’t be such a seminal, taste-changing CD for yours truly if I didn't, yo’.

System 7 - Point 3 - Fire Album

Butterfly Records/A-Wave: 1994/2003

See, Point 3 makes good sense as the title of System 7’s third LP; threes, and all that. Except Point 3 wasn’t their third LP, but rather a split concept LP into two albums, Fire and Water. Point 3 – Fire Album is their official third, what with most tracks on Point 3 – Water Album credited as remixes. What, the option of ‘bonus ambient reinterpretation’ disc wasn’t available? That didn’t stop Astralwerks from doing the deed for Stateside distribution. Also, as the band still had to use the moniker 777, the double-LP was titled System 7.3 Fire + Water, clearing up the Point 3 pun if you didn’t get it originally. Yet, because this was only the second album released in the Americas, the ‘.3’ pun is- No, I must stop reiterating these convoluted release points! My mind cannot take the chaos!

*ahem*

Their debut album got them chummy with club culture, and 777 found Steve Hillage and Miquette Giraudy growing into their distinctive techno-trance space-rock hybrid. Point 3, however, is where their reputation as a collaborative supergroup truly cemented. Not that System 7 didn’t have all-star pairings either, but the sense was they were simply hooking up with folks that The Orb palled about with. Fair enough, as it was Alex Paterson that Hillage first connected with. And those associates persist into Point 3 as well, with Youth (Martin Glover) returning for a pair of songs: goa trance on Gliding On Duo-Tone Curves (with Total Eclipse and Juno Reactor in keyboard support, OMG!), and a meditative tribal-dub excursion into trippy world music on Dr. Livingston I Presume. The latter sounds more like a Youth production, something he might have done with Greg Hunter for Dub Trees. Right, Mr. Hunter was lending an engineering hand with the last couple System 7 albums too. Forever production pals!

But we expect that of System 7 anyway. No, it’s the pairings with techno legends that always gets the talk of Techno Town with this group, and for good reason. The Derrick May collaborations Altitude and Fractal Liaison were the most interesting cuts off their debut, and Mr. May brings his Detroit sensibility back for a couple more future-funk tunes in Mysterious Traveller and Overview. Seems like System 7’s dragging him to their trance-trippin’ realm though, both tracks quite out there in the cosmos. Fear not, all ye’ techno stalwarts, for a Frenchman in Laurent Garnier has shown up, opening Point 3 with Sirènes, sounding more like Garnier with Hillage guitar in support. There’s also Batukau, which you might remember in a remixed form on Garnier’s Early Works collection.

Additional names here are The Drum Club (Lol Hammond and Charlie May) on Jupiter!, providing Hillage's guitar the sort of thumping techno track Spiral Tribe alum would do. All this, plus System 7’s own pounding Coltrane (Fire Mix) and tranced-out Alpha Wave (Gliss Mix) makes for a remarkably varied album, with something both techno and trance heads can enjoy.

The Cranberries - No Need To Argue

Island Records: 1994

The Cranberries were one of the most popular bands that gave the world a grunge anthem, which is hilarious because they are not a grunge band. Alternative rock, perhaps, but the Irish group only ever made one song that could be considered grunge. But hoo, what a song that was, Zombie among the biggest singles of the ‘90s, setting The Cranberries up for plenty of future success. This, despite tons of CD buyers coming away from No Need To Argue with confused first impressions.

Not that they were total unknowns leading up to this album. Linger from their debut did reasonably well, especially in thanks to copious amounts of MTV play, and also finding a nice home on alternative stations. It’s a peppy bit of soft rock, perfect for your romantic comedy needs, more indicative of The Cranberries’ style of music, and generated enough buzz for their debut album, Everybody Else Is Doing It, So Why Can’t We?, for a top spot on the Billboard of Ireland and the UK. Island Records, the victors of a label bidding war as representation for the band, had to be pleased. It was good enough for a modest fanbase in their homeland and even a little abroad, one that would stick with the group throughout the ‘90s. Not a bad claim to fame, nosiree.

But then along lurched a Zombie, scoring the band a Number One hit across the globe. It’s no surprise this single became the sensation it was, executing the grunge ‘quiet-heavy-quiet-heavy’ template to perfection. Coupled with a rousing chorus singer Dolores O’Riordan completely owns, and you’ve an anthem for the pissed-off generation that’s continuously played at every “Hey, remember the ‘90s?” party. It helped that it honestly sounded unlike anything else at the time, with that haggard accented voice from Dolores, to say nothing of an actual lady providing pipes in such a male dominated scene. The whole ‘anti-war’ message didn’t hurt its prospects either, though I wonder how many of my peers even knew Zombie was about that, instead content scream-singing “In your head, in your head, they’re fi-i-ighting. In your hee-aaadd! In your hee-aaadd ! Zo-o-mbie! Zo-o-ombie! Zomibe! Ey-Eh”, etc. Lord knows I didn’t clue in until the fiftieth time I heard it.

And that, despite scoring big on the charts with ultra-Platinum sales, No Need To Argue has found many a home in the used shops across the land (erm, with CD hoarders too). The Cranberries already had their followers, and this album’s blend of peppy alternative rock, charming Irish folk ballads, and Ms. O’Riordan’s intoxicating voice (such a wonderful singer!) delivers to those fans in spades. However, for the multitude of others that were introduced to the band via Zombie, and expecting more of that… well, some became fans of their traditional sound regardless. Many others though, didn’t quite vibe with what the Limerick group was selling, leaving them with No Need To Argue as a neglected gift from their Auntie. Probably.

B.G. The Prince Of Rap - The Time Is Now

Epic: 1994

As he was teaming up with DJ Dag and Mark Spoon to help invent some little genre known as trance, Jam El Mar also spent time getting in on that European hip-house action that Technotronic made all the rage. Heck, if Lord Discogs is anything to go by, his first production with Bernard Greene on Rap To The World beats out Dance 2 Trance’s We Came In Peace by at least a few months. And while the latter is hailed as a Very Important Record in the annals of trance, it by no means had the immediate success Rap To The World did. Eventually his work with Dag and Spoon would eclipse anything he did with B.G., but in the early going of his ‘techno’ career, Mr. Ellmer had himself a chart star with The Prince Of Rap. All the better for making that cash-money to fund his underground projects, yo’.

Fast forward a few years, and though trance has taken off in Germany, euro-dance took off bigger, and ol’ Jam and B.G. knew they had the foundation to capitalize on a scene that gave us Mr. Vain, Rhythm Is A Dancer, and Get-A-Way. Still, name recognition only takes you so far when dozens of new acts with hit singles are continuously shoved into clubs and radio. Perhaps they suspected a little extra oomph to stand out from the glut was needed, thus bringing in one Stefan Benz to the party. Mr. Benz had been making italo disco since the late ‘80s, moving onto euro-dance as many producers of that era did, even scoring another successful act in DJ Company. Then he went onto cheese-ball hard trance and ‘hands-up’ stuff through the ‘00s, but who cares about that.

Nay, let’s remain focused on The Time Is Now, and the three big tunes off here. Though none of them did as much action on the charts as This Beat Is Hot, Colour Of My Dreams did the best amount of damage, hitting top fifteen in Germany, and even scoring number one on Canada’s dance charts. It’s got the smooth rap from B.G., a catchy chorus from Paris Red (who did the bulk of vocals on the album), and punchy synth hooks. Better is Can’t Love You, especially as Jam El Mar’s vintage, buzzing sawwave synths drive this tune throughout. Can We Get Enough? was the lead single, something of a rough bridge between The Prince Of Rap’s earlier hip-house into euro-dance fare (that bass!). All are mint tunes of euro-dance’s peak years.

The rest of The Time Is Now is practically all filler though. Decent enough if you’re a hardcore collector of this stuff, but hardly essential material twenty-plus years on. Well, except for the curious two final tracks, actual hip-hop cuts, including a posse jam in This Is How We Do It. Guess the Prince Of Rap needed to remind everyone of his American roots. He sure didn’t have much chance to show off his lyricism on anything else here.

Method Man - Tical

Def Jam Recordings: 1994

Over three years since I dropped my first Wu-Tang Clan review, I’m finally doing a solo album from the M.E.T.H.O.D. Man. That’s just silly. Consider: I’ve talked up four Raekwon LPs, four Ghostface LPs, three from Deck, three from GZA, plus efforts from RZA, ODB, Masta Killa, and even U-God! Also consider: one Clifford Smith kicked-off the solo Wu-joint concept, his debut dropping but a year after Enter The Wu-Tang (36 Chambers). While it seemed likely a few of these MCs could sustain a career away from the Clan, there was little doubt Method Man was the breakout of the group, destined for superstar greatness in the world of hip-hop. It, um, didn’t quite turn out that way, explicitly because he never fully capitalized on all that initial momentum and good fortune. His album output has been sporadic and frequently underwhelming, yours truly seldom feeling the need to dig beyond his ‘90s output. And since his first few LPs centered on the concept of “tical”, here’s poor ol’ Cliff, way down in the ‘T’s of my CDs, thus bringing up the rear of Wu-Tang Clan solo joint reviews. Not that he’d give a shit either way.

Way back when though, everything looked peachy-keen for Johnny Blaze, his gruff charisma landing him a quick deal with hip-hop’s premier print, Def Jam Recordings. And why not, the label that gave us LL Cool J, Beastie Boys, Public Enemy, and Slick Rick undoubtedly anxious to get in on that hot Wu-Tang stylee, with nothing less than the group’s star MC as part of their official roster. And for sure, they got themselves some future classics of the hip-hop pantheon with Tical. Bring The Pain oozes street swagger with all the freestylin’ lyricism as found in his classic eponymous track from Enter The Wu-Tang. All I Need is a surprisingly affectionate ‘slum love song’ establishing ol’ Method as a rough ‘n’ tumble ladies man. And Release Yo’ Delf is a fun, rugged anthem for the club. The rest of Tical though… ah, hm.

As was the case on all the early Wu-solo records, RZA handles the bulk of the beats, and as Method Man has a gruff, gravely persona, so too does the music provided. Everything sounds rough, unpolished, dragged through Shaolin grime and muck, covered in a thick fog of hemp smoke. And dear Lord, some of the bass on this is absolutely crushing, the heaviest you’ll hear on nearly any Wu-Tang album. Sub Crazy alone must have broken many a poor, unsuspecting sub-whoofer. Sometimes though, it’s too much, the bass burying Meth’ and any other MC in the mixdown - Biscuits in particular is downright indecipherable. Yet given how clear the lyrics come through in other tracks, I can only assume the muddiness is intentional on RZA’s part, maintaining the Wu’s ghetto-grit mystic even as they began their empire expansion. Personally, I dig it, but Tical is left a difficult album to get into, one capably aided with an eponymous substance.

Live - Throwing Copper

Radioactive: 1994

One of the only ‘90s alternative rock albums you ever bought in the ‘90s, even if you weren’t the sort to buy alternative rock albums in the ‘90s. You certainly remember Live (pronounced “it’s alive”) from radio play and music video rotation, but do you really replay their music much? Be honest now. No wonder the band’s earned the running gag of one of the biggest acts of that decade that no one remembers.

As a refresher, they flitted through the realms of grunge, college rock, and even a bit of country, not quite getting pigeon-holed into any specific scene, yet always welcome on the appropriate FM stations. The I Alone vid’ is practically a what’s-what of ‘90s alt-rock standards: a desolate stage shoot with requisite grunge tree, shirtless shaved member, a long-haired scruffy Reality Bites member, a short-haired scruffy Clerks member, creepy animals. Live is about the most ‘90s rock band any ‘90s rock fan will tell you existed, despite the group maintaining a decent career well into the ‘00s, even releasing a new album eighteen months ago. It, erm, didn’t sell even a touch as well as Throwing Copper.

But then few albums did in the ‘90s, Live’s sophomore effort one of the best selling LPs of the decade. This, despite the fact it only hit the top of the charts in a handful of countries, and only scored a couple number one hits out of five singles released (Selling The Drama and Lightning Crashes earning those honors). Throwing Copper was the epitome of a slow burner though, an album from a band no one knew much about, but through consistent airplay and word-of-mouth buzz positive momentum t’was built. It got folks to those record CD shops, buying Throwing Copper for themselves, as a gift for their friends, and a second copy after wrecking their first while tossing it into their glove compartment (probably). The result is a eight-million selling record.

And unlike some other mega-selling ‘90s albums, most folks aren’t so embarrassed at having bought this. Live are a solid rock band, no doubt, capably going from soft and melodic to loud and aggressive as needed. Ed Kowalczyk makes for a good, relatable frontman, telling tales of people on the struggling side of life without ever sounding condescending or ultra-angsty. Live find an agreeable middle-ground, Throwing Copper as engaging a listen as it is a nice casual throw-on; a slightly heavier Tragically Hip, is the vibe I’m getting at.

Yet for as good a rock album this is, you don’t see much in the way of retrospectives for it. Its 20th Anniversary passed by with but a token vinyl reissue, a feat even a middling rock release gets these days. More damning though is its Wiki page, the barest of write-ups offered. Nothing regarding the album's conception, recording process, interviews with band members… this, for a top selling album of the ‘90s. Amazing how something once so popular can so easily turn into an afterthought.

Various - Techno Trax Vol. 12

ZYX Music: 1994

Techno Trax was one of ZYX Music's premier compilation series in the '90s. Okay, I don't know if that's true, but I can confirm it was one of their most prolific, especially in the first half of the decade. This Vol. 12 came out when the series was but a mere three years old, and while its output was significantly cut back following 1994, it persevered into the new millennium. Took a couple evolutions to get there though, becoming Techno Traxx (with two x’s!) as the year 2000 drew close, then morphing into Techno Traxx – Step Into The Future going forward, finally ending in 2002. Including a megamix spin-off series, and various ‘Best Of...” additions, not to mention a dedicated entry into ZYX’s massive The World Of... series, and I’d say you have a proper successful collection of compilations on your hands. Well, you’d have to ask old-school folks from mainland Europe if that’s the case. I have no idea if Techno Trax was indeed a smash, or it was just a means for ZYX to churn out quick, cheap CDs into the market.

I imagine it was reasonably popular though, the series often featuring ‘techno’ hits of the day while staying just a foot within the underground. It’s early entries mostly contained classic rave tracks from acts like Altern 8, The Overlords, The Prodigy, L.A. Style, and, um, 2 Unlimited. Soon Techno Trax was also licensing out records from Suck Me Plasma, getting in on that burgeoning German trance thing as hardcore rave turned into goofy, happy offshoots. Once trance became the genre du jour of Europe, the series almost exclusively focused on that instead, their only actual techno pretty much the hard acid stuff. Not that Techno Trax ever had much traditional techno to begin with. Hell, the only such case on this particular double-discer is Love Inc.’s R.E.S.P.E.C.T., an early Wolfgang Voigt cut. Speaking of another ‘humble beginnings’ name on here, Robert Babicz shows up as Acid Warrior, doing acid techno in Acid Bites. ACIIEEEDDD!

Anyhow, it’s at this crossroads between techno-rave and German trance that we find Vol. 12. Some of the Techno Trax old guard show up with tunes, like The Prodigy’s Voodoo People and Moby’s Feeling So Real, but neither would appear in the series again. Meanwhile, names like Komakino, Jam & Spoon, Alien Factory, Paranoia X, DJ Tom & Norman, Acrid Abeyance, Legend B, and Nostrum should spark the synapses of anyone familiar with hard trance of the time. Can’t say all the tracks here are mint examples of the German sound though, no matter how many punchy, minor key melodies tickle my ears.

In fact, this whole compilation is kinda’ rubbish, and it’s all the happy hardcore’s fault. Whether ultra-lame covers of pop hits or super sap bilge, I just can’t stand this stuff. Only two tracks transcend the nasty cheese into tasty-cheese: Mark ‘Oh’s Love Song, and the hilariously ridiculous Rotterduck from Assi, another Komakino alias. He-he, wheee, squeaky toy!

A Positive Life - Synaesthetic

Beyond/Waveform Records: 1994/1995

Another act from the early days of Beyond, another act that seemingly disappeared shortly after. Stefan Pierlejewski's project as A Positive Life was as vital to the seminal ambient dub label as either Higher Intelligence Agency or Another Fine Day, yet has an even smaller discography than their scarce offerings. Was he unable to find another home after Beyond folded? I'm assuming he maintained some presence out there, playing the odd gig and such. Still, considering how prevalent his name was with the early ambient dub scene, it's bizarre seeing all reference cease with The Lord That Knows All past the mid-'90s. There’s nothing on offer with Mr. Pierlejewski’s pre-Beyond either, essentially starting with the Oscillate nights. For all intents, A Positive Life sprung into existence right from the start, flashed brightly, then went his way into the deep, dark night from whence he came.

As for the music he made, it’s less ambient dub by way of Original Rockers, and closer to Higher Intelligence Agency, though with a heavy lean on acid and trance. Really, A Positive Life always was an odd-man out on the Ambient Dub compilations, his tracks often more uptempo compared to the laid-back vibes and sonic explorations of the deepest dub. His sound was never true-blue trance though, as I can’t possibly imagine hearing this stuff on labels like MFS or Rising High. It’s just too ambient at the same time, but with enough of a hypnotic rhythm to keep me boppin’ about. Dammit, how can something sound so over familiar, yet totally unique? This just don’t make any of the sense, mang.

Synaesthetic is slightly different in its Waveform Records incarnation, tracks rearranged, plus an additional, unreleased one included. Par for the course with Waveform, and as with their other re-releases, this one looks better than the Beyond version. It does a good job of keeping the tempo on a climb as the album plays through before easing off into proper ambient pastures, whereas the original had them all mixed up instead. New track Warehouse 5am serves as a proper warm-up to the A.P.L. stylee, getting you familiar with the simple, loopy nature of his music. There’s burbling acid, ethnic samples, swirling pads, and a sense of dubby bliss as it glides along. Follow-up Bathdub explores much of the same vibe, though comes with a stronger rhythm and more overlaying acid-dub. Both end on the bubbly, floating Aquasonic though, as it they should.

Midway, things get downright groovy with a thick bassline in Lighten Up!, and eerie with spacey acid in Pleidean Communication, but the biggest ‘hit’ off here (re: appeared on all the compilations) is The Calling, co-written with Mr. Pierlejewski’s original project partner, Patrick Morsman. If the opening ambient bleepiness and angelic voice sound familiar, it’s because Michael Cretu nicked it for his Enigma track Out From The Deep. I’ll take the trance thump and squelchy acid of A.P.L. over New Agey guitar strums any day though.

Willie Nelson - Collections

Columbia/Sony Music Entertainment: 1994/2004

This, above all else, is about as country as I'll ever get. Yeah, there's that Johnny Cash CD, but he always flirted with rock and blues too (why, he even, Walked The- *slap*). There's Neil Young too, but his country dalliances are incidental to his larger body of work, hardly representative of the music as a whole. Willie Nelson though, there's no escaping his roots, the guy about as country as country could cu-

I suppose if there's any particular style of the Western scene I can get behind, it's the “Outlaw Country” side of things. Along with Johnny and Willie, this also included Waylon Jennings and Kris Kristofferson – a supergroup dubbing them The Highwaymen – offering a rebellious slant to the staunch traditionalism of Nashville. Other ‘outlaw’ sorts included Jessi Colter, Tompall Glaser, and Hank Williams, Jr., and it gave country a much needed kick in the cajoles after so many years of the same ol’ twang. They cultivated an image of being out on the open road, away from the homestead, exploring the great untamed lands of America while longing for their one true love wherever she may be. Also, a lot of reckless substance consumption. That's probably why I decided I should get Willie Nelson's Collections, his lax stance on marijuana use an easy sell for a Sykonee who was still a little chronic in his life. Okay, and he has a sweet, soothing croon to go with his music, a kindly old uncle vibe that you look forward to seeing out on a ranch somewhere in Arizona.

Collections mostly covers Willie’s career from the mid-‘70s through the ‘80s, about when he adopted the grizzled, bearded hippie look we associate with him now. What, you thought he was like that right from the get-go? Hell no, mang, just take a gander at his album covers from the ‘60s. Guy looked about as preppy a country singer could back in those days, which I can’t help but wonder whether it was forced upon him by RCA. It might have explained that early ‘retirement’ as the ‘70s took hold. In any case, after a brief stint with Atlantic Records, he joined up with Columbia, completing this transformation to the outlaw crooner of yore and a’fore.

The music on Collections is vintage Willie. Um, I suppose. I don’t know jack about his songs. A couple I do recognize off here, like On The Road Again and Georgia On My Mind, probably heard in movies or other ‘best of’ showcases for Mr. Nelson’s material. A decent assortment of country is on here, from ballads (Blue Eyes Crying In The Rain, Always On My Mind) to honky-tonk (Nothing I Can Do About It Now, City Of New Orleans), and songs with orchestrated production (My Heroes Have Always Been Cowboys, Living In The Promiseland). To my untrained ears though, these all just sound like country standards with Willie’s distinctive voice singing. Considering many of these are covers, maybe that’s all there is to it.

Johnny Cash - Collections

Columbia/Sony Music Entertainment: 1994/2004

On the other hand, when faced with a daunting discography like Johnny Cash’s, having limited access to an artist's discography can help ultra-cheap hits packages like Collections. He wrote, performed, and released music at a remarkable clip for much of his early career, finally slowing down once the '80s hit (damn you, '80s!). While you can point to a number of solid standouts that are obligatory in any retrospective (Ring Of Fire, Walk The Line, Folsom Prison Blues), paring everything down to a mere ten is ridiculous. Only a box set buffet could do The Man In Black justice, but I’m not that interested in his music, so this morsel of an appetizer will suffice.

Even having this seems more a point of necessity, no music collection respectable without one of the giants of country music within. Yes, even if you can’t stand the thought of twangy crooners. Mr. Cash carved out a unique niche within that music culture, a gravely baritone, free prison concerts, and somewhat reckless lifestyle painting him as a classic Western outlaw. Nor was he strictly a country performer either, jumping between rockabilly, blues, and gospel tunes whenever the inspiration hit him, the disparate genres often blending together in his music. He was among the first in taking country out of its insular Nashville scene, exporting it to audiences who’d have little other interest in what all them cowboys were singing about. There’s a whole lot more I could get into, but I’d quickly run out of self-imposed word count. Maybe read one of the many biographies out there. Or watch one of the many documentaries. Or a biopic or two.

I’ll probably never delve into Mr. Cash’s discography enough to figure out what his essential works are, so I’ve no idea whether the selection of Collections does him justice. It obviously has his two breakout hits in I Walk The Line and Folsom Prison Blues, both from his 1957 debut With His Hot And Blue Guitar. From the following year is Big River from the album Sings the Songs That Made Him Famous and I Still Miss Someone from The Fabulous Johnny Cash. Yeah, country album titles weren’t terribly creative back in the day. Eh, where’s Ring Of Fire among all these, you ask? (no, pretend you did) That came later, released in ’63, when Cash signed to Columbia, and appearing on the album Ring Of Fire: The Best Of Johnny Cash. Man, great song titles, but lousy ones for LPs, every time.

The rest of Collections rounds up some of Cash’s more well known tunes and covers of the late ‘60s, including a live prison performance of the hilarious A Boy Named Sue. Capping things off is a ’76 cover of the Wayne Kemp number One Piece At A Time. Man, this recording’s far too polished for a capper on this version of The Man In Black story. Why couldn’t the original Super Hits have come out after he’d done Hurt?

Institute Of Frequency & Optical Research - Subspace Messages (2015 Update)

Jump Cut: 1994

(Click here to read some ramblings about bad mastering.)

I swear there are mind controlling subspace messages out there. They're sending their signals to my subconscious, you see, insidiously forcing me to continuously talk about this hopelessly obscure album of rough acid techno from the mid-'90s.

It all started so innocently, wandering into that used music outlet looking for a few cool, unique scores I wouldn't find in the regular stores. Little did I know those subspace messages were already penetrating my neural pathways, guiding the tiny extraocular muscles within my eye socket towards that lonesome looking white cover with the DNA strand plunk in the middle. Readings of my memory membranes had alerted these shadowy individuals of my fondness for nerdy-named electronic music, knowing I couldn’t resist buying this album with barely a sound check involved. Somehow the masterminds behind these quantum level wavelengths had the foresight I’d end up contributing my thoughts of music to the internet, thus maintaining the Institute Of Frequency & Optical Research’s legacy long after their name had been left to the mists of techno history. They waited patiently, letting the CD sit within my towers for an opportune moment when their music would be brought to light once more.

They chose their target well, realizing my insatiable need to prove that Chaos Theory rules supreme would incite me to introduce the Random Review concept at TranceCritic. That, despite a large collection of music, even the most hopelessly forgotten and abandoned works could be resurrected within the public’s ears if only by mere chance. Sensing their time finally at hand, I was sent the subspace messages intended for motor control of my arm and hand. Despite closing my eyes, doing a quick spin, and running my fingertips up and down the tower, I was manipulated enough that my second Random Review choice ended up being this album. The masterplan unfolds, where, despite the general lambasting and shoddy penmanship displayed in that TranceCritic review, a few dozen more folks in this world came to know of the Institute Of Frequency & Optical Research. Er, yeah, that was one of the doggiest reviews on TranceCritic in terms of views. Guess you just can’t beat reader apathy.

How such a CD sourced from the UK ended up in the backstands of a Surrey pawn shop remains a mystery. Perhaps a former hapless victim of these Subspace Messages overcame his mind control, fleeing as far West as he could go, hoping to toss it into the Pacific Ocean where a giant octopus might mangle it for good. He couldn’t commit though, the subspace messages overriding such desire. He could at least get some money from it though.

At least I know I’m not alone in my mental manipulations, Lord Discogs telling me nine others have suffered this fate. Honestly, it was the fact this was even in the database’s early archives that convinced me it was a website worth keeping tabs on, plus help contribute with my own rare gatherings. Yay for small achievements!

Salt Tank - ST 3

Internal: 1994

Salt Tank will forever only be known for one track, which is a shame because they did put out some solid UK techno and trance back in the day. Eugina though, that got them their break, such that they couldn’t escape its shadow – not when branching out from the Balearic vibes everyone adored them for, nor when they tried cashing in on it with retreads. Following a slew of shiny year 2000 remixes of Eugina, David Gates and Malcom Stanners disappeared after the turn of the millennium, going into relative stasis for over a decade. Now they’ve re-emerged with a couple trance singles for Solarstone’s retro-uplifting Pure Trance print.

We’re dealing with the beginning though, or at least as close to it as we can. The Salt Tank story goes all the way back to the heady days of UK rave, where they self-released a few mostly forgotten records. Still, they must have sensed the tools were there to go far in the business, as these singles were given simple, sequential titles (ST 1, ST 2). I also sense some inspiration from Orbital on the parts of Misters Gates and Stanners, as soon enough they had a clear winner in Eugina for ST 3. I wouldn’t go so far as to say it’s a rip-off of Lush, Halcyon + On + On, or other Orbital ‘blissy techno’ hybrids, but it does borrow from the same template. Take a whispy female vocal, bring in a few bleepy hooks, add a catchy guitar strum (that one’s from Jam & Spoon!), and mix it into a pleasant Balearic vibe. Boom, instant classic, and one that would be canned by Paul Oakenfold forever after.

As ST 3 is essentially the Eugina EP, it has a few remixes included, though all given original track titles for maximum confusion. Pacific Diva may as well be the extended club mix of Eugina, while Waimea Wilderness is the ambient dub version, and real dull at that. Too sparse, too under-produced, and a thumping kick emulating a heartbeat does not a captivating piece of dub make. That said, all the sonic isolation does benefit the Tori Amos sample, if you know its original context from Me And A Gun (you’ll never hear Eugina the same way again, trust). Best of the lot though is Sargasso Sea, with proto psy-dub act Astralasia giving the rub, taking the Balearic vibes of the original and running with it for a sublime slice of chill-out ambience.

For some reason, Salt Tank rescued their oldie tune Charged Up (I'm hearing Orbital again) and added it to ST 3, including an ambient dub remix from Zion Train called Charged In Zion Canyon. And in the middle ofST 3 is Clone, a pure techno workout in the CJ Bolland vein, though done by The Advent in this case. Wait, did Advent co-produce this with Salt Tank, or is this a remix of an uncredited track? Curse these limited two-decade old liner notes.

Opus III - Guru Mother

PWL International: 1994

Opus III are known for two things: being responsible for early UK house hit It's A Fine Day, and Orbital sampling said hit for Halcyon (and on and on-om-nom). They could have been known for so much more though, had they carried on longer than two albums worth. The talent was definitely there, productions capably toeing the line between respectable club anthems and easy home listening. They had a marketable look with Kirsty Hawkshaw as the face of the group, a distinct voice and presence in a scene filled with pretty but unremarkable singers.

Kirsty though, she sensed the group getting a little commercial for her taste, and Opus III disbanded. Ms. Hawkshaw then went on to provide vocals for, um, BT, Tiesto, Lange, and Delerium. Hey, there's some respectable collaborations during that period too (Orbital-proper, Swayzak, Hybrid), but man, did trance producers ever line-up for ol' Kirsty's pipes. Not sure what happened to the other three members of Opus III though. Even Lord Discogs provides little.

Fortunately, they went out in fine fashion, their sophomore album Guru Mother a remarkable record for the year 1994. This is progressive house as its finding its footing, figuring out what it could be, and maybe getting a little ‘epic’ in the process. This is BT music before BT had made a name for himself with Ima, Grace music before Oakenfold got tired of the goa thing, and Renaissance music just as that seminal clubnight was making Sasha & Diggers deities behind the decks. There’s sing-along house anthems (Dreaming Of You, When You Made The Mountain, Hand In Hand), darker, chugging prog numbers (Outside, Guru Mother, Sushumna), ethereal trance groovers (Release The Joy, Elemental), and chill, bliss-out ambient pieces (Cozyland?, When She Rises). Listening to this album two decades on, I’m astounded Guru Mother isn’t talked up more as one of those Very Important progressive house records. Were Opus III really seen as that much of a one-hit wonder that all their other efforts were so dismissed?

Perhaps so. I certainly never gave Opus III much care in all these years. Heck, the only reason I’m reviewing Guru Mother now is because I noticed it during a recent used-CD shop splurge. Of course I knew of It’s A Fine Day, but that song wasn’t on here. And that cover, man does it ever look cheesy, more suitable for a medieval folk group than anything with a dance beat. Then I recalled a similar sentiment shared with a Rupert pal long ago. He’d bought Guru Mother solely for recognizing Opus III as the It’s A Fine Day group, and was surprised how much better the album turned out compared to that single. While I didn’t doubt his judgment of Guru Mother, I simply couldn’t get past that cover, much less the photo of Kirsty Hawkshaw looking like some woodland pixie on the back. Just no way Guru Mother could be class, no way at all.

God, was I an arrogant idiot sometimes.

Neil Young & Crazy Horse - Sleeps With Angels

Reprise Records: 1994

Sleeps With Angels is one of the best albums Neil Young and his Crazy Horse ever put out, yet hardly gets mentioned in discussion. True, some of their other records had more impact on rock’s landscape – no one's taking away classics like Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere and Rust Never Sleeps. This one though, note for note, chord for chord, guitar for piano, drum for flute, distortion for melody, Sleeps With Angels is a beautiful album. Not because it paints a pretty picture, oh no! These are some incredibly bleak songs, topics of death, decay, and depression all presented in as grungy a way as blues rock can go. There's something captivating about all this misery though, like scenes out of an art-house film without the pretentious waffle that comes with it.

For instance, the criminally overlooked song Driveby, which deals with drive-by shootings and the tragedy they so often create. Young doesn't preach, laying out one senseless scenario after the other, the music he and Crazy Horse provide marching at a sombrely pace as though they're funeral pall-bearers. Their harmonized chorus, simply the title of the track, is such a heart-breaker, you wonder if the band themselves suffered a drive-by death in the family.

And so much of Sleeps With Angels is like this. Prime Of Life details the insidious nature of tabloid magazines ruining the Royal Family, the titular cut touches on Kurt Cobain's suicide with distortion dragged through the ugliest gravel pit, Western Hero forlornly recalls past glories of an old cowboy, Trans Am forlornly recalls past glories of a Trans Am, Safeway Cart paints a portrait of ghetto decay, and the epic fourteen minute long Change Your Mind tries consoling with extreme depression, wary of the spectre of suicide ever lurking in the shadows. My God, it wasn't that many years prior Young gave the world the sentimental Harvest Moon, much less teaming up with The Horse on the free-wheeling Ragged Glory. Even the one 'cock rocker' on here, the hilarious Piece Of Crap, rants on about disposable consumerist junk. What made them turn so dour? '90s, man, f’n '90s.

I wonder if that’s why Sleeps With Angels doesn’t receive the same Boomer plaudits as Young’s older work. The songcraft is all here, Neil & Crazy as tight-knit yet wonderfully loose of a unit during their ‘90s resurgence, but older folks just don’t talk it up much. Are the topics too touchy for his traditional audience, a sense of all the things that generation had worked for run ragged and cast aside by Gen-X’s emergence upon adulthood? Figures Young found a common link between the two with his music, the grunge aesthetic he helped pioneer turned into musings on the state of the nation. Its topics the adults could relate to, but wrapped in a package appealing to the teens, and all the more brilliant for it. Sadly, that also lands Sleeps With Angels in a nowhere land between disparate music scenes, often neglected by both.

BushX - Sixteen Stone

Interscope Records: 1994/1996

This being a Canadian blog, I must call this band BushX. The Can-Con Commission is ruthless, often breaking knees over preserving our heritage, including making sure a home-grown Bush band doesn't get overshadowed by a foreign Bush band. What's funny is with the immense popularity of Gavin Rossdale's group, Roy Kenner's group got more publicity for their infringement lawsuit than any of their music garnered - from the Gen-X crowd anyway. What's even funnier is it worked, my brain still subconsciously treating this album as a BushX record, not a Bush one. This, despite the fact BushX technically no longer must be called BushX within our borders. Guess after London Bush disbanded for a while, Toronto Bush saw little need for anal-retentive clarification of whose Bush is whose.

Anyhow, Sixteen Stone. This was a ridiculously popular album back in the day, though I'm hard pressed to think of anyone admitting they throw it on anymore. It certainly hasn't aged as terribly as many other post-Nirvana grunge bands, but nor does it have the gritty charm of the original Seattle invasion. BushX sound just a little too polished with their distortion, a little too clean-cut in their angst, a little too big label produced for a supposed grassroots music scene. And yet almost no one initially wanted to sign them. Grunge from the UK? Balderdash!

Super success notwithstanding, the band has a humble beginning, Gavin and fellow guitarist Nigel Pulsford joining forces through a mutual love of Pixies. They're competent musicians, knowing their way around feedback and riffs that are heavy, dreary, and all that good grunge stuff. I dunno though, it all feels off, even to these ears that have as little exposure to the genre as a '90s teenager could hope to achieve. Matters aren’t helped when Gavin just doesn't strike me as a 'proper' grunge leading man, y'know? I cannot deny he's got stage presence, a look and voice just as impressive as Cobain's wretchedness, Scott Weiland's hot mess, and Eddie Vedder's pearly whites. Wouldn't he be better served fronting a traditional heavy alt-rock band though?

Whatever. Machinehead’s a kick-ass tune, no one can ever deny that. Most of the other songs rock well enough for a casual listen, and I’m sure almost every girl made out to Glycerine before Aerosmith stole BushX’s teen dance thunder. Hell, even Ishkur was a big enough fan to get this limited edition 2CD version with a bonus live recording included. Explain yourself there, mang.

Ishkur: “I had that? I had no idea.”

Dammit, doesn't everyone obsess over their CDs?

Honestly, I was curious to hear how disc two sounded, whether the studio polish of CD1 capably translated to stage performance. Screaming girls aside (because of course), it was pretty cool, the band sounding much looser and Gavin’s singing straining in a cool sort of way. Maybe the band realized this rougher sound served their music better, going with Steve Albini for their second album. It didn’t serve their sales though.

Delerium - Semantic Spaces

Nettwerk: 1994

It was a perfect point in my musical development that I stumbled upon Delerium's first forays into crossover ethno-pop. The acts that had served as my introduction to the genre weren't doing it for me anymore, the allure of thicker, dubbier beats drawing me deeper to the underground. Yet I hadn't ventured that far from familiar shores either, a compilation or two about my only exposure to the likes of Orb, FSoL, and BdG. How could I know Bill Leeb and Rhys Fulber raided a ton of famous beats and sounds from prominent acts and famous tunes? Besides, it's not like Semantic Spaces' intended audience would know either, the album marking a reinvention of the Delerium brand for a potential new listener base of New Age stay-at-home mothers.

Or not. Whatever commercial roads the duo travelled in the wake of Karma doesn’t really apply at this earlier point in their career. Front Line Assembly was still their biggest draw, Delerium mostly relegated to dark ambient noodling, a chance to explore weird soundscapes and abstract songcraft. The label Nettwerk itself was also in transition, moving away from the EBM and ethereal synth-pop acts that defined its ‘80s output (Skinny Puppy, Moev, Single Gun Theory). Even Nettwerk’s biggest star, Sarah McLachlan, had yet to break out of local stardom, mostly making music that wouldn’t sound out of place on 4AD.

It’s that influence, more than anything, that marks Semantic Spaces style. There was no real crossover attempt here because neither the name Delerium nor Nettwerk had much impact yet beyond the scenes that already nurtured them (and even rejected by hard-line industrial sorts). Some of the sampling that goes on here is a bit much though – Flatlands is basically a beefed-up early Enigma tune, and it’s difficult hearing Consensual Worlds without thinking of The Orb, much less the bell hook and native chants in Sensorium without thinking of Origin Unknown or Deep Forest. Yeah, quite a few of these came from sample discs used throughout the industry, but sometimes an act uses it so definitively, anything after comes off like a cheap copy. That said, I fully endorse the use of that Meat Beat Manifesto break in Resurrection. Paupa New Guinea’s a classic, but it don’t have no Vangelis choir chant, mang!

Semantic Spaces finds its proper stride when Leeb and Fulber write music with less emphasis on the samples they crib. The two vocal tracks with Kristy Thirsk are some of Delerium’s best, Flowers Become Screens hitting great gothic grooviness (!?) and Incantation a ridiculously catchy club cut (that chorus!). The remaining instrumentals - Metaphor, Metamorphosis, and Gateway - ride ethno-ethereal trip-hop vibes as expertly as you’d ever find in the early ‘90s, never coming off sap or cliché.

Aw man, those darn nostalgia headphones are on my head again, aren’t they. Whatever. Semantic Spaces doesn’t demand fastidious critiquing – it is what it is, and you can either despise it for that, or embrace your inner Wiccan goddess. Or something.