Alter Ego - Alter Ego

Harthouse/Harthouse America: 1994/1995

Even with their name right there as the album's title, I doubt most folks would believe you if you told them this was Alter Ego's debut. Oh, the old heads know, though they tend to skip straight to Decoding The Hacker Myth for their Must Have Alter Ego Records Of The '90s; Acid Jesus too, if they want some straight-up techno. Heck, even if folks are savvy enough to know Alter Ego started out on a more chill bent, I'm sure they'll name-drop the album they released before this one (The Primitive Painter as The Primitive Painter) as the more interesting of the two, if nothing else because of how unknown it is (gotta' show off that trainspotter savvy).

Thus in a discography that includes IDM, techno, tech-house, minimal tech-house, electro, faux-electro, and some acid too, Alter Ego stands alone, more a remnant of the ambient dub era of downtempo music than anything Misters Wuttke and Flügel would go on to do. For sure they put their own spin on the sound, but by and large most folks instead regard this album a chill-out option within the early Harthouse catalogue, a companion piece to whatever mellow moments Ralf Hildenbeuten, Oliver Lieb and B-Zet were providing the label. Aside from the laid-back acid vibes of single Soulfree, little from here gets brought up when discussing Alter Ego's body of work.

Well, poo on them, because I quite enjoy Alter Ego for all those reasons! Yeah, it owes a fair deal to ambient dub, but that gives their music much warmth over their more clinical excursions into music-making. If anything, I'd bill this stuff as 'lounge techno', the sort of music you could imagine being played out at a dimly-lit coffee shop while relaxing on a sofa, a warm mug of your favourite caffeinated beverage simmering nearby as you contently flip through some old novel, its spine withered from repeated usage. No, I'm not basing that off the one track titled Sentimental Books, why do you ask?

As mentioned, Soulfree was the lead single, a wonderfully downtempo outing of deep acid grooves. Atomic Playground plays up to its namesake, a playful little ditty of acid, jazz, and dub, while Chinese Eyes lazily bobbles along with dubby acid and lushly warm pads. For those who need their Alter Ego a tad more upbeat, the thirteen-minutes of Nude Restaurant works a nifty, rolling oscillating rhythm as acid and synths percolate throughout, while Tanks Ahead shows off the duo's funkier side of acid electro (small wonder The Black Dog tapped this one to remix). And as is required of most techno albums of the day, we get the obligatory ambient closer in Undersea Girl, about as warm a piece of ambience as I've ever heard from anyone of the era, wrapping you in thick blankets of synthy timbre while spacey acid bubbles to the ocean surface from Atlantian depths. Yes, I've had this album so long, it's practically painted canvases within my brain matter. How it do?

Tuu - All Our Ancestors

Beyond/Waveform Records: 1994/1995

It's a strange thing, Tuu appearing on an 'ambient dub' label and all. Wouldn't they have made better sense on a New Age print? Perhaps, but the trio always floated around different musical circles than kooky mystic crystal worshippers. Their first album came out on the German print SDV Tonträger, more known for industrial sound experiments from the likes of Konrad Kraft and Jesus Drum. Meanwhile, knowing he'd have to do some serious hustle to get their band any sort of exposure, Martin Franklin would hawk Tuu's CDs and tapes in whatever stores would take them.

In the UK, that usually meant the underground joints where hardcore rave records were found aplenty. As luck/chance/fate would have it, Mr. Franklin ran into a label promoter in one such shop, where they shot the shit about what was what in the burgeoning chill-out scene flourishing in British afterhours venues. Just so happened that promoter was Mike Barnett, responsible for the seminal Beyond print, who already had a string of successful releases via the original Ambient Dub series. Sensing Tuu's style could add to Beyond's already broad downtempo pallete, they were brought on for a second album, All Our Ancestors. Then Waveform Records made it their second artist album release (after HIA's Colourform), and fourth overall. Man, talk about taking a gamble. Like, Tuu were well respected and all, but not exactly an act to sell a fledgling label with. Ah well, Loop Guru's Duniya was just around the corner anyway.

If you've forgotten exactly what Tuu sounds like (understandable, as I've only reviewed One Thousand Years many moons ago), they're a trio consisting of tribal drumming (bowls, pots), a single woodwind (typically flute), and some synthy pads and treatments. It's all very minimalist and haunting, as though you're listening to ritualistic meditative music from primitive cultures long since passed. All Our Ancestors doesn't do much to shake the formula, though when dealing with such a simple formula to start with, not much shaking can be done regardless. Compared to One Thousand Years, this album does see a little more involved songcraft, less about the lengthy hypnotic journeys compared to their debut.

Oddly, I find their music less engaging as a result. For sure all the familiar sounds and vibes are in All Our Ancestors, but the greater attention to musicianship doesn't draw me into the same hypnotic trance as compositions like Body Of Light and Pan America do. Those works, they instantly lodged in my headspace, and have remained there ever since. I sadly can't say the same for tracks like House Of The Waters or Rainfall here. My brain tells me these are technically better crafted pieces of music, with more intuitive sounds utilized. There's just something irresistible about the simplicity of their older works though. It's like, as a method of music that celebrates the most primitive of humanity's sonic artistry, it truly excels in its most uncomplicated form. And really, hasn't that always been ambient music at its best?

Enigma - Age Of Loneliness

Virgin: 1994

This was kinda'-sorta' Enigma's lead single going into their second LP, The Cross Of Changes, though existing as Carly's Song at that point. And as it was produced between albums, it sounds more like a left-over from MCMXC a.D., utilizing all the musical tricks Michael Cretu turned into a global smash on such tracks like Sadeness and Mea Culpa: ethnic vocal sample, woodwinds, Sandra's whispery voice, heavy sexy rhythms. Not quite at his Return To Innocence stage, then, but what can you expect for something made specifically for the Sharon Stone erotic thriller Sliver?

In fact, Mr. Cretu was approached to score the whole movie. Makes sense, as his music – or more specifically, knock-offs of Sadeness - had been popping up in many Skinemax films throughout the early '90s. As Sliver was the hotly anticipated follow-up to Sharon Stone's star-making turn in Basic Instinct, an appropriately sexy-sounding soundtrack was required, so why not get the real deal? However, Cretu was already moving on from that sound, getting more in touch with the New Age side of his muse – less sensuality, more spirituality. He still offered up a song, Carly's Song (Carly was the name of Stone's character), and even had an artsy erotic music video made for it with Stone lip-syncing the lyrics. The movie critically bombed though, leaving that single a quirky footnote in the Enigma canon.

Fast forward a year, The Cross Of Changes comes out, and rather than letting Carly's Song sit fallow, Cretu gave it some light retouches, turning it into Age Of Loneliness for the album. There must have been enough buzz surrounding the track as heard there, for it was re-released as the third single from the album, and given a whole new video in support. This time, something MTV friendly, wide shots of a sepia Manhattan with superimposed people floating in water, as though hovering about a myriad of urban locales. I've had dreams like that.

As for the single itself, there's only two items of note, including Cretu's own clubby remix of the track. Though he has dabbled in uptempo tunes, we generally don't think of Enigma as a dancefloor friendly act, but the Enigmatic Club Mix offers a convincing argument in that favour. While not doing anything progressive house acts of the day hadn't already covered, it suitably grooves along while letting all the familiar elements play about as necessary. Plus, those beeps heard throughout are Morse Code for “I love you”, which is such a clever musical Easter Egg, I'm stunned we don't hear that gimmick more often.

But the reason folks from 'the underground' were interested in this single was the Jam & Spoon Remix. Aww, yeah, the original trance tastemakers, having a go at one of the most Enigma-tic tracks in Enigma's early career! This is gonna' be... uh, super chill, apparently. It's basically the same song, just stripped down, with a weird, soft, drippy rhythm. Gotta' give credit for subverting expectations, I guess.

Absolutely Fabulous - Absolutely Fabulous

Spaghetti Recordings: 1994

I don't know much about the show Absolutely Fabulous - heck, I didn't even know such a show existed until I heard this Pet Shop Boys charity single. That isn't to say the famed British comedy about a pair of past-their-fame ladies trying to maintain their fame didn't make it to Canadian shores. I'm sure it aired on our Public Broadcast Services networks alongside other BBC gems like Red Dwarf, Fawlty Towers, and Edward The Penitent. I think it even had a re-run slot on our comedy network, but again, I never saw it – are British comedies given the death slot of 8:30am? There's been a couple attempts at an American version of the show, but they never caught on, probably because Americans prefer comedies about low-to-middle class buffoons rather than upper-class twits. Okay, Frasier was an exception, but that show had a recognizable, admired lead, plus its upper-class silliness was tempered with gruff, middle-class sensibilities (y'know, real 'Murica how-to). Them Brits tho', they love mocking those who believe themselves better than thou'.

Of course, this has bollocks-all to do with this single. Near as I can tell, Pet Shop Boys were referenced in the show, which prompted Pet Shop Boys to make a charity single for the Comic Relief drive in return. Fair play, and it seems Misters Tennant and Lowe had some fun making a totally gaudy euro-dance tune replete with sampled dialog praising designer fashion labels while bemoaning “dull soulless dance music”. They even named their b-side remix the Dull Soulless Dance Music Mix, a thumping acid techno cut with that phrase endlessly looped along with the beat. I know they're kinda' taking the piss here as well, but they didn't have to hit the nail with such precision.

Really, the only reason I got this was for a full version of that utterly grand and daft Our Tribe Tongue-In-Cheek Mix, featuring a Rollo anthem at peak Rollo-iness. Take all the over-the-top, flashing lasers, epic gurning off your tits hits he did as part of Faithless, then bake the cheese into a cake of exquisite taste: it's so rich that you'll go sick from too much of it, but for the portion you're fed, *moi*. Sadly, the only version that came here was the mangled cut on Disco 2. Sure, maybe a local DJ might play it at a cheeky club night, but if I wanted a copy for myself, I'd have to import one from the UK, or mainland Europe, or South Africa (!), or Australasia (!!). No, seriously, the single hit the number two spot in both Australia and New Zealand! How'd that happen?

But sure enough, the CD came down low enough on the used market that paying for those extra shipping charges finally nabbed me my own copy. And hey, it even comes with an additional Rollo remix, Absolutely Dubulous. It, uh, does that Visnadi euro-house thing with the 'doo doo' organs. Kinda' dull and soulless, if I'm honest.

Rapoon - Vernal Crossing Revisited

Staalplaat/Zoharum: 1994/2013

As I continuously marvel at our modern marvels of finding and gathering all forms of music, I wonder if I'd have had any hope at all of finding Rapoon's Vernal Crossing back in the day. Like, I barely even knew who the chap was, my only reference point a lone track on a Hypnotic compilation called Ambient Rituals. Still, such recognition was enough for me to nab a copy of any artist album if I so happened upon them in the Vancouver music shops: compilations were very handy in the discovery process of music hunting.

So let's assume Rapoon's Vernal Crossing somehow crossed the Atlantic Ocean, crossed the North America continent, and crossed every distributor's hands to end up on a shelf that I just so might have happened to cross paths with. What section of the store would it even be filed under? Not the 'Electronica' one, that's for sure, the music within far too tribal and 'ethnic' to rub shoulders with house and techno CDs. The 'World Music' section then, but man, there's something far removed from any sort of reality in Rapoon's music, hardly fitting in with the likes of [endless name-drop session of culturally influential musicians abroad]. Heck, it could very well have migrated to a New Age corner, what with the meditative qualities lurking in the endlessly looping chants and rhythms coupled with hypnotizing pad work. Maybe it'd have ended up in the 'Industrial' section, if the music clerk was savvy enough to know of Rapoon's Zoviet France background.

And even if I had found it, what on Earth would I have made of it? For sure the world beat dork in me would be intrigued by all the chanting and drumming, but this stuff is on an entirely different plane of existence compared to what I was familiar with (Banco de Gaia, Deep Forest, etc.). It's, dare I say, erotic, opening track The Same River Once creating an atmosphere of primal jubilation and haunting ecstasy, a celebration of the coming season of fertility. Makes me want to strip naked and dance in the spring sunshine with someone of the Wiccan faith.

What gives all these tracks an other-worldly edge is the same dusty, dubby filter Robin Storey used throughout Zoviet France's run. Best I can describe is as though you're watching a grainy, black-and-white documentary, a short film repeatedly flickering against a stone wall in the claustrophobic dark. You recognize elements of human culture, especially those involved in ancient rituals predating anything the West has conceived, but it doesn't seem real, more like a fever dream of what once was.

Vernal Crossing was apparently the album that got folks noticing Rapoon on a unique wavelength when it came to ethno-ambient, such that it received a 2013 remake from the man himself. While it certainly captures his recent, more polished songcraft, there's still something entrancing about the primitive, dubby looping going on in the original. Feels like a more appropriate vibe, given the subject matter.

Spacetime Continuum - Sea Biscuit

Astralwerks: 1994

It shouldn't have taken me this long to pick up Sea Biscuit. It never occurred to me that I could though. When I first heard Spacetime Continuum, it was as part of Coldcut's Tone Tales From Tomorrow Too, a mix CD that sounded so strange, so leftfield ...so alien to my virgin raver ears. I concluded the tracks within were so underground that I'd have no hope of ever finding them in my trips to the Vancouver shops, much less in my Canadian hinterland homestead.

Then along came a Lord by the name of Discogs, showing me the light – these tracks do exist beyond the unknowable realms of the deepest crates, some even care of familiar labels (that Namlook fella' was part of Alien Community? Go figure!). That didn't mean I could now rush out and buy 'em all up though, oh no! Tone Tales was more than a half-decade old by that point, ages where electronic music was concerned in those days. Surely items off there were long out of print and impossible to find for a college student on a minimal income just learning the wonders of Amazon shopping. Little did I know that one tune was always easily accessible, the Astralwerks label among the most prominent electronic music prints in North America. No ridiculous import fees, no inflated collector's market prices, no dodgy bootleg deals; just a nice, simple used-shop cost, plenty available no matter what your Amazon preference be. Yep, no reason to not get the Astralwerks version of Sea Biscuit if you want this album (from Astralwerks). No reason at all.

Jonah Sharp's debut album as Spacetime Continuum is oft hailed a classic of ambient techno, though I sometimes feel every ambient techno album released between 1991-1995 is hailed as such. It's definitely got a lot of things going for it that tickle my earbuds proper-like. Pressure, the tune that appeared on Tone Tales Too, is all retro-future sci-fi electro bliss. Subway gets in on that dubby ambient-bleep action that has my Higher Intelligence Agency triggers flaring (squee!). Ping Pong wouldn't sound out of place in a Mixmaster Morris set of the time. Q 11 isn't much removed from the sort of stuff FSOL were producing on their Lifeforms singles. Plus, we get a couple lengthy noodly ambient outings in Voice Of The Earth and A Low Frequency Inversion Field, which puts Sharp quite comfortably within the larger Fax+ canon. Can't be part of the Namlook legacy if you don't have at least one endless track of relaxing pads and minimalist sonic doodling.

So I like Sea Biscuit, but it's more for Sharp utilizing familiar tropes of dubby ambient techno than anything unique to his sound. Aside from Pressure, which hints towards his future leanings into techno-proper, there isn't much here that I couldn't find on other releases from that year. Still, if you're looking for another addition to such a collection, it remains an easy album to find on the used market.

Various - 100% Energy

Quality Records: 1994

Another of my earliest CDs, and a very educational one at that. No, go ahead and laugh – it really is quite adorable what I learned from 100% Energy. It's something I would have learned rather quickly anyway, but there's always that first one, opening your eyes, ears, and brain to all that electronic dance music has to offer and is capable of. I am, of course, talking about The Remix.

Yeah, I'd come across remixes before. My exposure was so limited at that point, however, I just assumed rubs on tunes like Age Of Love, Obumbrata, and Dominator were the original versions, not variations. Even the few remixes of 2 Unlimited hits I'd heard didn't sound that different compared to the radio cuts, at least enough for me to think much of it (still, that 2 Little Boys go with Twilight Zone sure hit harder). When I picked up 100% Energy (was given as a Christmas gift? I can't remember...), I was already familiar with a chunk of tunes in the track list: Urban Cookie Collective's The Key, The Secret, BKS' I'm In Love With You, Bad Boys Blue's Go Go (Love Overload). There are several others too, but I hadn't counted on hearing versions of them completely different from what I'd heard elsewhere.

My main point of comparison was Radikal Techno – Too Radikal, where four tracks from that CD also ended up here. Both Mars Plastic's Find The Way and R.T.Z. Belgium's In The Name Of Love are shorter, which I didn't mind since both tunes are rather monotonous anyway. That Deadly Sins cut though, We Are Going On Down, why does it have an added bell melody? The main riff's different too, more aggressive sounding, and where did the roller-coaster samples go? If that threw me for a loop, then hearing the original version of TRF Rave Factory's Open Your Mind... well, opened my mind. Joey Beltram's remix on Radikal Techno was minimalist and almost trancey, whereas here it's about as ravey happy hardcore as you could get in 1993. Complete opposite ends of the dance spectrum, and I was so clueless it could be done at all! Oh, and the limp Let The Beat Control Your Body from 2 Unlimited is featured here in its more festive X-Out In Rio Remix form, another “wtf?” moment for yours truly.

Okay, enough anecdotal blathering. 100% Energy is about as typical a eurodance compilation from Quality Records as you'll ever find. Other names on here include Diva Connection, Apotheosis, Dance 2 Trance, Q-Tex, Cardenia, and Intermission. DJ Dero's mardi gras nod Batucada comes prior to the 2 Unlimited rub, and General Base's Poison hits all my eurodance endorphin triggers. The CD is also 'mixed', in that everything's got hard cross-fade slams, some tracks hilariously clashing with what came before. Since I don't have many of these tunes and mixes elsewhere, I've kept 100% Energy all these years, but it's honestly barely worth a used-shop pick-up a quarter century on.

Global Communication - 76:14

Dedicated: 1994/1997

The only 'ambient house' album you're supposed to have, if you never really messed with the genre in the first place. Yeah, the Proper Critics of the music world have kind things to say about Adventures Beyond Ultraworld, Chill Out, Lifeforms, both SAWs, and a few others. For some reason though, Global Communication's lone LP always ends up in the 'best of' lists and 'Most Important Ambient Records' recaps from outlets that seldom give raver music much credit. Is The Orb just too stoner-goofy? Boards Of Canada too childish? Pete Namlook too dorky?

There's no denying 76:14 is a class album from Tom Middleton and Mark Pritchard. Already finding some techno success as Reload, the duo took a stab at the trendy (lucrative?) chill-out market with this new alias, showing just as much skill fusing ambient and associated genres of old (Berlin-School, New Age ...yes, really) with the beatcraft and dubby components quite common with their peers.

For sure there's charming pure ambient numbers like 4:02 and 12:18, harkening to the days of early Eno and Hearts Of Space. Not content navel-gazing with the pioneers, 9:25 and 7:39 adds some funk-hop rhythm to the pleasant synths and harmonies on display, while 9:37 goes all spaced-out with distant, minimalist dubby pulses – some serious Fax+ vibes on that one. Elsewhere, 8:07 and 5:23 may as well be the same track, building on a simple, pulsing arp with complementing synths and melodies straight from the book of space-synth Tangerine Dream. And who can go a 76:14 review without mentioning 14:31, a composition time and again hailed as among the highlights of early '90s chill-out music (that metronome!). Overall, the result is an album that doesn't stray too far from what ambient music of the era offered, but uniquely engaging enough to stand out from an over-stuffed scene.

Good music aside though, I'm still left wondering what it is about 76:14 that always places so high in lists compared to everything else released in the early '90s. Make no mistake, there were a lot of LPs put out at the time, many with synths and sounds similar to what's on offer here. Tom and Mark at least show stronger songcraft compared to others, no composition coming off as meandering, noodly music for its own sake. That's a remarkable ability considering some of these songs' lengths (hint: it's the titles).

I dunno. The more I listen to 76:14, the more I suspect it became a favourite of Serious Music Critics because it didn't have the same level of hype as the Orbs and Aphex Twins. Nor did Global Communication have such marketing muscle behind it like Virgin or Warp Records, Dedicated more known for their alt-rock releases. And without a major label licensing their tracks out, the music didn't flood the compilation market either. 76:14 was thus an album that you got to discover on your own, and were richly rewarded for your exploration. Small surprise many got so attached to it.

Paul van Dyk - 45 RPM

MFS/Mute: 1994/1998

I cannot deny being amused at seeing this album in the used shop. The thought process of its former owner vividly played out in my head: “Gosh gee, I sure do like myself Paul van Dyk, what with that lovely song For An Angel on all these trance-tastic mixes! But, the song wasn't on Out There And Back. Which one had For An Angel? Oh, it's this one, 45 RPM. Hey, it's even got two versions of it! I didn't even know you could do that with trance.” *plays the album* “Uh, what is this? This doesn't sound like trance. It's all so... plain, and simple, especially that first version of For An Angel. There isn't even any vocals or plucks on here. How can I 'OMG I DIE' to stuff without big, anthem singalong breakdowns? Ah, this is an old album, before Paul Oakenfold invented trance. Guess I'll sell it. It's not what I wanted.”

Myself, of course, was all up in getting my hands on some old school Paul van Dyk! Okay, not really, my interest in his musical output middling at best. However, finding any early '90s trance album in the used shops is rare 'round these here parts, so snagged that CD up I did so. Why has my grammar gone so wonky all of a sudden? Trancecrackeritis?

Beyond being Paul van Dyk's first album and initial home of For An Angel though, 45 RPM isn't a terribly remarkable trance LP, even for the year 1994. MFS had already released a number of memorable singles cementing the Mark Reeder print as one of trance's earliest tastemakers, with acts like Cosmic Baby and Effective Force leading the way. Known for having an ear attuned to catchy melodies through the DJ circuit, Paul's style caught the attention of the MFS team, bringing him on to lend his talents to various productions and remixes. When it came time to tag his name to his own work, however, instead of the type of trance MFS was known for, van Dyk opted for something a little more club-friendly and commercial in Pump This Party as a lead single. It didn't survive the '98 re-issue, for good reason. Stepping stones and all that, but it's hilarious to hear that as the intended hit single, rather than initially looked-over For An Angel. Different eras.

As for the rest of 45 RPM, yeah, it's an early trance album from Paul van Dyk. It's all competently produced and arranged, most hooks simple and subtle, though folks with cracked copies of Fruity Loops were knocking this stuff out by the turn of the century. A Magical Moment has a slower, groovier vibe going for it, while Ejaculoutro ends the album-proper on an ambient note, but little else leaps out from the norm. The '95 additions from the Emergency! EP replacing the Pump This Party tracks add more flavour to Paul's formula, which only highlight his earlier works as him still in a developmental stage.

Gravediggaz - 6 Feet Deep

Gee Street: 1994/1997

It was the late '90s that I got into hip-hop proper-like, Wu-Tang Clan leading the way. Little did I realize that a seed had been planted for that interest a few years prior, with the Gravediggaz debut, the second rap album I ever bought. I wasn't after anything deep or conscious, y'see, but all the crazy, humorous, horror lyricism and super-funky beats of 1-800-Suicide and Defective Trip caught my ear like little other hip-hop music at the time. That's probably how most 'non rap-fans' buy their first rapping records, something that's more a novelty than anything reflective of the culture. Like Beastie Boys doing the cock-rock fusion thing, or blatant smut-rap like 2 Live Crew, or a 'nerdcore' outing from MC Frontalot, or a comedy offering from Lonely Island. Some may dig deeper from those entry points, but for most such 'themed rap' allows folks to dig on hip-hop without getting caught up in the scene's broader topics.

That's all I really cared about going into Gravediggaz. I had no clue that the group contained two of the biggest producers residing on the Eastcoast at the height of their creative powers: Prince Paul and The RZA. Hell, I didn't even know who these guys were when I bought 6 Feet Deep, much less the legacy they'd created in but a few short years. I only clued in to the Wu-Tang connection after listening through The RZA Hits, and realized “Oh! The RZArector. I thought he sounded familiar.” Also, how was Diary Of Madman not on The RZA Hits? Yeah, that compilation was mostly about Wu-Tang highlights, but damn if that single doesn't deserve being considered in conversation of all-time classic, creepy RZA productions.

To this day, it boggles my mind that Paul and RZA not only teamed up so early in their careers, added another pair of relatively unknown MCs in Poetic (The Grym Reaper) and Arnold Hamilton (The Gatekeeper) to the project, but that they'd indulge in the ultra-niche 'horrorcore' genre in doing so. Aside from Bushwick Bill's 'Chuckwick' alias, no one was doing this kind of stuff. RZA's movie influences though, they must have extended beyond old-timey chop-socky kung-fu flicks. Maybe a little Tales From The Crypt comics on the side.

And if the topics of bad ghetto trips, ultra-violent demonic possessions, hanging tabernacles from testicles, and suggesting various methods of suicide are just a tad too out there for your sensibilities, you cannot deny the music on hand is top-grade shit. Prince Paul handles most of the beats in 6 Feet Deep, running through sample-heavy funk, off-kilter soul, and headbangin' boom-bap (Bang Your Head, appropriately enough). Meanwhile, RZA's shouty maniacal rapping, Grym's smooth flow, and Gatekeeper's gruff voice all play wonderfully off each other (Paul mostly sticks to the producer's roll). This album is equal parts grim-dark and hilarious as fuck, without ever falling into parody like so much 'horrorcore' often does. Only a right prude couldn't get into this album on some level.

Euphoria - 2 Days Away

Bipolar Music: 1994

Sticking with the ultra-obscure material, we are. Not as obscure as a 'proper' attempt at a DJ mix CD from yours truly, but I'm apparently the only dude on Discogs who has a copy. Except for 'tripleaardvark', who uploaded the album to the Lord's archives, and is looking to offload it for forty bones. That's thirty-one Liberty Dollars, or twenty-two pounds of Sterling – a surprising amount of money, is what I'm saying, for something I'm sure almost no one outside the Vancouver district has heard of. Hell, I only got it as part of another person's CD collection, and when you agree to take one CD of theirs, you agree to take them all. That is the Rule, right?

I'm not sure how this person ended up with such an album to begin with – friend of a friend of a family member, perhaps? Euphoria (the thirty-eighth iteration of the handle according to Lord Discogs) is comprised of Andrew Duncan and Greg Kisser. Mr. Kisser has gone on to be a CBC TV director, while on the side playing out classic bar rock in the band Curds & Whey. Couldn't find much regarding Mr. Duncan though, Google revealing a few Vancouverites with such a name, a couple with obituaries.

Whatever the case, this 2 Days Away album doesn't seem to have much to do with where these musicians ended up, save the same level of instrument skill they brought to whatever project they've done (I'm assuming it's more than this). Despite Mr. Kisser's current rock contributions, this is absolutely not a rock album. If the cover art had you thinking New Age, you're on the right path, though it's not quite in that scene either. Aside from a few songs, most of these tracks have that late-'80s to early-'90s soft jazz, muzak sheen to it. The hall-effect drum kits, the ultra-crisp piano and guitar tones, the flat production that has you feeling like you're listening to jingles while being put on hold from overseas call centres. Certainly this isn't the fault of Misters Kisser and Duncan, as the studio they made this album in - Dynamic Sound Production, according to the liner notes – apparently specialized in exactly that!

Aside from vaporwave sorts looking for more sounds to plunder, I can't see many folks getting down to Euphoria's 2 Days Away. Still, there are a couple notable tunes on here in how they at least attempt something more than soft jangle muzak. The titular cut is comparatively ambitious with chill Balearic vibes, ethnic chants, and samples of folks anticipating events two days away (new job, retirement, DISNEYLAND!). Memories is a pleasant enough piece of piano ambient with subtle pads, rainfall, and sounds of someone struggling at the writer's desk. Boardwalk is just sounds of folks playing a board game, while Chance And Thyme gets funky with its beatcraft. Well, about as funky as you'd expect from two Vancouver guys making muzak destined for late-late night weather reports.

Various - X-Mix-3: Richie Hawtin & John Acquaviva - Enter: Digital Reality

Stud!o K7: 1994

No longer satisfied with one DJ for their X-Mix series, Stud!o K7 settled for nothing less than a tag-team set for volume three. Or they had no choice in the matter, Richie Hawtin and John Acquaviva a package deal at this stage of their careers. If you want one of these techno dons, you gotta' book the other – a brilliant marketing tactic that carries on to this day by many scene-whoring sorts (Steve Angello & Sebatstian Ingrosso, Excision & Datsik, Dimitri Vegas & that guy who shouts shit). Still, though one would go onto mega-stardom while the other remained a 'DJ's DJ', at this point you couldn't think of one without the other, their Plus 8 print one of the hottest labels to emerge out of Windsor Detroit-region in the early '90s.

It's remarkable that for a German label, !K7 didn't really rely on their local DJs in this series. Yeah, Paul van Dyk provided the MFS-showcase kick-off, but his pure trance set's now regarded as an outlier in the X-Mix canon. DJ Hell and Hardfloor would get mixes down the road, but !K7 did their homework in scouring the globe for techno talent in need of a debut commercial set for their discographies. That... was among their manifestos, right? It's definitely a trend they held up for most of these releases. As an aside, I find it amusing that, for as many Genre Defining, Trend Setting, Forward-Thinking, and Very Important mix CDs Richie Hawtin would put out over the years, his first mix CD was in service of old-school CGI rave videos.

But first, we're treated to Mr. Acquaviva's mix, featuring tunes from Speedy J, Hardfloor, Laurent Garnier, and L.S.G. Whoa, wait, what's Blueprint doing here? Aren't these guys techno through and through? Maybe Richie is, but John's often more adventurous with his sets, and X-Mix-3 is no exception. Despite burning through a half-dozen tracks in around twenty minutes, the opening portions of his mix has a surprising prog-house vibe going for it. Obviously not proper prog or the like, but techno and acid house that's rather groovy, chill, and spaced-out for the time. Can't deny being a little put off hearing such blatant sampling of Steve Hillage's Garden Of Paradise in Orson Karte's Metamorphosis though.

Eventually John settles into the sort of acid techno you'd expect from the owners of Plus 8, building things to a nifty crescendo of Hardfloor's Alternative. When Hawtin takes over, he can't help but use an ambient interlude bridging things together, a small letdown coming off the acid high of Hardfloor, but Hawtin's gotta' start fresh for his unfussy minimalism.

His set runs shorter than Acquaviva's, and does about as you'd expect of a mid-'90s Hawtin rinse-out (just tunes, none of that micro-edit mixing). Spastik's here, of course, as is Spaz, his LFO collab' Loop, a remix he did on Teste's The Wipe, plus cuts from Lemon8, Peelo, and Speedy J. Man, did techno dudes ever love them some J' back then.

Various - X-Mix-2: Laurent Garnier - Destination Planet Dream

Stud!o K7: 1994

Even 'Back In The Day', there were a fair number of home videos featuring trippy CGI art with the tekno musiks. Few garnered as much prestige as the X-Mix series though – well, about as prestigious as this medium ever got. Studio !K7 (then Stud!o K7) had been dabbling in the AV market since the late '80s, mostly providing VHS tapes of alternative rock and punk bands popular in Germany. Somewhere along the way, they got hip to that 'techno' thing going on at underground clubs and love parades, and released a trio of tapes featuring such music dubbed 3 Lux. As there were no official videos made for tunes like Cosmic Baby's Cosmic Cubes, Alec Empire's King Snake, or Sven Väth's Caravan Of Emotions, !K7 commissioned original videos from various CGI studios to go with the music, much like you'd see on screens at clubs (so many colourful, spinny geometric shapes!). It proved such a success that !K7 rebranded the series as X-Mix in 1993, now with enough scene clout that it could provide fresh sets from top-tier DJs not only on VHS, but with a tie-in CD as well.

Though based out of Germany, the series wasn't rare on my side of the planet, even if you'd have to pay a significant import fee for them. Oh man, was it ever worth it, few CDs at the time offering as sublime of techno sets as you'd get with X-Mix, some Very Important DJs making their debut commercial mixes with this series. Like Laurent Garnier!

I've gone on about early-era Garnier before (prominently with his compilation album Early Works), but here's a refresher. The Frenchman served as a sort of bridge between Detroit techno and German trance, his sound often taking elements of both such that you could honestly label it either-or, and folks wouldn't bat an eye. X-Mix-2: Destination Planet Dream's no exception, ol' Laurent finding himself some of the tranciest techno on the globe (and maybe beyond?).

Many well-known artists make up his set: Underground Resistance, Derrick May, Carl Craig (by way remixing Brian Transeau's Relativity - yes, really!), Kenny Larkin, Dave Angel, Planetary Assault System, Galaxy 2 Galaxy (UR again), plus Hardfloor's remix of Robert Armani's Circus Bells, if you're not tired of it yet. Was this tune overplayed? Sure feels like I keep stumbling into it.

Most of the tracks Garnier uses feature plenty of flange-effects on percussion, simmering acid, and looping, spaced-out pad melodies, which sounds like old-school trance in a nutshell, but all in a very Detroity sort of way. Really, the most pure trance this set goes is Essence Of Nature's Blue Orchidee, but obviously a Ralf-Sven production would at this time, even if that cut's rather bang-on for a Harthouse single. We also get bleepy techno (Rhythim Is Rhythim's Icon), buzzy minimalism (Mike Dearborn's Deviant Behaviour), and a comedown finisher with Garnier's own Go To Sleep. Yay, a track that properly ties into the mix's concept title!

Snap! - Welcome To Tomorrow (Original TC Review)

BMG: 1994

(2017 Update:
Not much else to add to this old review. My thoughts on it haven't changed much in the ten years since I wrote it, and the story of Snap! hasn't seen much else of note happen either. They did join in on those 'I Love The '90s' nostalgia concerts that sprung up a few years ago, which is cool and all, but nothing from this album made it into their short playlists - at least, from what I've seen on various YouTube clips. I never got to go to those shows, stuck on the continent that I currently am. I'm not sure how they could have included Welcome To Tomorrow or Rame or The First The Last Eternity anyway, so drastically different from the group's biggest hits as they are. Maybe Dream On The Moon could have fit, having a similar 'rugged' rhythm as their older hip-house hits, but would anyone know that one? Yeah, thought not.)

IN BRIEF: The first mainstream trance album? Perhaps.

(to their song Who Stole It)
So, Snap!, what happened to thee?
You’re once players in this industry.
But something happened along the way;
Now your impact is forgotten today.

Alas, something did happen to the power-house dance outfit Snap! With ultra-hits like The Power and Rhythm Is A Dancer, they helped popularize a euro dance scene into a global phenomenon. At the peak of it all though, when work on their third album Welcome To Tomorrow was soon to begin, a number of factors ended up drastically changing things for the group.

The most glaring one is the absence of rapper Turbo B. Much has been debated over his worthiness as an MC. Some found him wholly unnecessary and his rhymes silly. Others quite enjoyed his faux Public Enemy persona, lending the songs he was featured on a vitality that was often missing from the many copy-cat acts that followed. Whatever your impression of him was though, he undoubtedly gave Snap! much needed stage presence considering most of the music was done behind-the-scenes. However, Turbo B and producers Michael Münzing and Luca Anzilotti (or John “Virgo” Garrett III and Benito Benites, heh) had a falling out. He wanted to get back to hip-hop, whereas they had other plans. Thus their union came to an end for the remainder of the 90s.

Yet that’s not the end of it. Snap! could easily have settled on producing stock euro house with female singers, but the German duo never wanted to be caught rehashing their former successes in those days - hence the drastic differences between their first two albums. Once again, they decided to go for a new sound, but what?

Oddly enough, trance provided the answer. It was already blowing up in German clubs in ‘94, and two albums with Jam el Mar at the helm (Dance 2 Trance’s Moon Spirits and Jam & Spoon’s Tripomatic Fairytales 2001) had shown some potential in the genre’s crossover ability. Münzing and Anzilotti also had ties to the scene, having known tastemaker Sven Väth when they performed together as Off in the 80s. Perhaps at the time it seemed like the logical course of action, but sadly Welcome To Tomorrow was a few years too early to be a successful mainstream trance album, and it greatly hurt the public’s response to it (well, aside from in Germany, obviously).

The lack of Turbo B was the least of their identity crisis. Snap! retained a signature murky bass-heavy sound throughout most of their releases, but not this time out. Welcome To Tomorrow’s production is mostly squeaky clean, even to a fault in some cases. If they wanted to create the image of a future where everything is devoid of the grime and grit of the present, they certainly succeeded there, but this was not what folks expected. Small wonder the new singles from the album were mostly met with apathy from nearly all their fans: they weren’t even sure if it was the same group anymore (which, in a sense, was true).

On its own merits, then. As a mainstream dance album with trance influences, does Welcome To Tomorrow work? At times, yes. Some of these tracks contain all those vintage elements trance was built upon, and Snap!’s offerings are as fine as anything the underground saw. Most apparent of these is Rame, where the combination of stuttery synths, sweeping pads, and Rukmani’s ethnic vocals could have found a tidy home on any old school trance compilation. Elsewhere, It’s Not Over makes for a peppy instrumental, The First The Last Eternity finds similar elements to Rame in a subdued setting with lyrics provided by their new female vocalist Paula Brown (aka: Summer), and Waves dips into ambient’s waters with Ibizan-tinged guitar provided by Markus Deml (whom some may remember from his pairing with Ralf Hildenbeutel as Earth Nation around the same time - the ties to the underground continue!).

A bunch of these other songs though... I dunno, friends. I mean, I normally don’t have much problem with doe-eyed clichés but seriously, Snap! go overboard here.

Green Grass Grow, It’s A Miracle, Welcome To Tomorrow, The World In My Hands: my God, but what syrupy sap these are. The World In My Hands is at least somewhat tolerable with a moodier tone, but the rest sound like they were written with children in mind. In fact, I think they were. Münzing had a baby daughter at this point, and it seems like his paternal instincts drastically took over his music writing, such to the point he even gives her some ad-libs on It’s A Miracle, a song about the joys of childbirth. Yes, I admit whenever I think about holding my newborn nephew, the same sentimentality does come up, but not when I’m listening to a dance record. Here, I can’t help but be just a bit embarrassed, like watching someone performing simpleton-silly googly acts to a bemused baby. And this comes from the same group that just four years prior had Turbo B rapping about lamenting a broken condom?

Welcome To Tomorrow isn’t a bad album though. It’s just very different from what you’d expect: a Snap! album, a dance album, anything really. You can throw it on and, provided you don’t blush to death from the effusive emotions at points, be reasonably entertained. Unfortunately for them, it brought the group down, and despite their continued attempts at comebacks this decade, they have remained out of public consciousness for the most part, save the continued replays of The Power and Rhythm Is A Dancer. Not exactly the future they predicted, then. Ah well.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2007. All rights reserved

Various - The Verve Story: 1944-1994 (Disc Four: 1962-1994)

Verve Records: 1994

Despite initially being vilified as ‘devil reefer music the [blacks] liked’, jazz had a darn good run at the top. One cannot discuss music of the ‘30s, ‘40s, and ‘50s without its influence on culture abroad. But though it remained a significant player in the ‘60s, newer music started dominating the lexicon of a younger generation. Rock, folk, funk, R&B, and country were seen as the sounds of the Now and the Future (not to mention weird abstract noises from electronic contraptions), and if jazz musicians wished to remain relevant in general discourse, they had to adapt with the times.

Thing is, most jazz musicians didn’t give a lick about that. Sure, a few gained the attention of Very Important rock journalists (Davis, Hancock, Coltrane), but for the most part they were content enhancing ways of approaching their craft. A ‘free’ method, if you will, eschewing the conventions of old to find more ways of playing all the notes. I can’t say I’m much of a fan of this expressionist era, all that technical skill coming off as musical masturbation. Give me something to hook on, mang!

Verve Records must have sensed the changing tides, branching off into other music after founder Norman Granz sold the label to MGM. They still had successful jazz records early in the Sixties, but as the decade wound down, so did their jazz output. The music here showcases some of the more ‘leftfield’ records they released in this time, including Latin sounds of Cal Tjader’s Soul Sauce (Guachi Guaro), Kenny Burrell’s Last Night When We Were Young, and The Girl From Ipanema with Stan Getz and João Gilberto. CD4 wraps this era up with the old bop standard Night Train as performed by Jimmy Smith and Wes Montgomery. You know this tune from Back To The Future.

Speaking of the ‘80s, let’s time-jump two decades! *whoosh*

What’s Verve been up to in that time? Not a whole lot, mostly doing re-issues for Polydor after that media group bought them from MGM in ’72. Despite traditional jazz almost a cultural afterthought for much of that period, these sold well enough that by the late ‘80s, PolyGram decided there was enough interest in the music to warrant a semi-relaunch of Verve Records. They’d still continue the reissue business, but also start signing new talent as well, bringing back all that swing, bebop, and free jazz stylee to those who never lost the faith. Maybe they got in on that developing ‘acid jazz’ sound too, but there’s none of it with the small sampling of ‘contemporary jazz’ we get on CD4. And yeah, as with the ‘free’ stuff from the ‘60s, I’ve only a passive, technical appreciation for this stuff, nothing more.

Still, one can’t help but come away from The Verve Story with at least some appreciation of the music’s heritage. Verve Records is far from the whole story, but it’s a significant chapter of jazz’s legacy.

Various - The Verve Story: 1944-1994 (Disc Three: 1957-1962)

Verve Records: 1994

I’ve mentioned plenty ‘nuff my reservation in exploring jazz beyond the peripheral due to that scene’s daunting size. And hey, fair enough, right? There’s only so much music out there one can dedicate one’s time to. This habit don’t pay the bills (oh God, if only…), so my time remains limited. Nay, ‘tis easier to focus on what I’m properly passionate about, checking other stuff whenever the whim strikes me. Still, there’s another reason I’ve so often put jazz music on the low-end spectrum of my interest, and it’s entirely due to one instrument: the saxophone.

Before saxophone fans get all in a tizzy, this isn’t some arbitrary hate on the horn’s heritage or stylistic preference. I generally enjoy the sound saxophones bring to the world of music, an important touchstone in giving blues, bebop, noir films, and Lisa Simpson their cultural identities. Unfortunately, there’s an audio range of the instrument that’s like needles on my eardrums, physically painful for reasons I don’t understand, generally anything above the mid-tenor through alto – lower tenor and baritone are fine. This gets especially trying when jazz musicians are playing with gusto, incidental reed squeaks making things even worse. I’ve read it attributed to medium, saxophones not surviving the transition into digital terribly well. Perhaps, but it doesn’t help the fact it remains one of the premier instruments of jazz musicians, and thus effectively curtailing whatever enjoyment I get out of the scene.

Take the opening track of CD3 in this Verve box-set, Crazy Rhythm with trombonist J.J. Johnson and tenor saxaphonist Stan Getz. Holy cow, but is that rhythm ever crazy! This is some of the fastest jazz music I’ve ever heard, and super-props to Ray Brown (bass), Connie Kay (drums), Oscar Peterson (piano) and Herb Ellis (guitar) in staying so tight, feeding J.J. and Stan all the fuel for their solos. And Mr. Johnson does his thing, and I’m diggin’ it real good, and then Stan does his thing, and I enjoy it for his technical skill, but I don’t feel it so well, because his horn hurts my ears like so much high-tempo saxophone always does. This handicap totally sucks, it does.

Anyhow, CD3 sees the Verve machine in full swing (including a couple swing tunes, though rather subdued compared to the raucous Forties). Jazz is entering its ‘sophistication’ era, no longer the default music of choice for hep cats (culturally defunct) and cool kids (they prefer rockabilly), but upper-crust parties and college-educated professional adults. Just as well, as fancy musical innovations like ‘high fidelity’ and ‘stereo’ were getting their starts too, and only rich folks had the money for playback machines that could take advantage of it. There’s some nifty tunes here (Ella Fitzgerald getting her scat-bop baritone on, Stan Getz’s Night Rider further fusing classical touches with jazz, Jimmy Smith adding organ to the Verve legacy), but this is about where my interest in jazz music as a genre starts cratering. More on that in CD4!

Various - The Verve Story: 1944-1994 (Disc Two: 1953-1957)

Verve Records: 1994

Right, it wasn’t just the nifty box-set design that caught my attention when buying this. The name Verve Records does have some pedigree even to those as unenlightened of jazz’s storied history as I, so it was a safe bet checking out a 50th Anniversary collection for a proper knowledge-drop on the music.

To simply call it a jazz label hardly does the Verve print justice though, adopting many other scenes as tastes and trends shifted through the ‘60s and ‘70s. They brought us the Righteous Brothers, The Velvet Underground, The Frank Zappa And The Mothers Of Invention, and assorted folksy music too. Jazz remained Verve’s breaded butter though, and even as the music slowly dwindled from prominence, it found a comfortable role in reissuing its back-catalog, all the while gobbling up other jazz prints as labels consolidated their assets into mega-labels. They’re apparently now under the Interscope Geffen A&M Records banner, but not before making stops with MGM, PolyGram, and Universal. I can’t imagine founder Norman Granz figured his print would ever take such a convoluted journey.

Before he set up Verve Records though, Granz had a couple other prints. CD1 focused on his seminal Jazz At The Philharmonic concert tours (not so much a label, but a cross-label brand), and Clef Records, which ran for a decade before being absorbed into Verve. Around 1953, Granz set up another label called Norgran Records, though it too was consolidated into Verve in ’56. It’s this five year period that CD2 cribs its material from, the mid-‘50s in all its boppin’ glory.

Yeah, there’s a good deal of the bebop groove here that’ll have you realizing where the roots of rock’n’roll originated from – the rhythm guitar was getting more opportunities to strut its stuff, that’s for sure. Naturally I’m fonder of this stuff, though hearing more blues-leaning jazz doesn’t hurt either. And while swing was essentially on the outs by the Fifties, that didn’t mean big-bands went by the wayside too, quite a few offerings of ‘orchestras’ on display here (minimum six musicians present, singer optional). I can’t help but think of grand Hollywood spectacles of hip, urban life while hearing these tunes, which is in stark contrast to the more modest, quieter pieces like Art Tatum’s piano solo Tea For Two and Benny Carter’s My One And Only Love - now I’m at a stuffy cocktail party.

However, the most prominent new addition to the Verve legacy CD2 showcases is vocalists. Obviously jazz music had singers before, but when Granz established this print, it was with promoting singing talent in mind. This included such vocalists as Anita O’Day, Billie Holiday, and Ella Fitzgerald, who he personally managed. In fact, the first official Verve release was a collection of Cole Porter covers sung by Ms. Fitzgerald. For my money though, that duet with Louis Armstrong (They Can’t Take That Away From Me) is the clear highlight. Dang near everything ol' Louis did was gold.

Various - The Verve Story: 1944-1994 (Disc One: 1944-1953)

Verve Records: 1994

Like any good and true ‘lover of music’, I had to eventually pay my pittance to jazz music. Where to start though? Its history is impossibly immense, with no hope of simply dipping one’s toes within - even the shallows are as vast as a continental shelf to the scene’s endless oceans. Acid and nu-jazz have provided me a few backdoor avenues, though only delayed the inevitable proper step into the world of swing, blues, bebop, Afro-Cuban, bossa-nova, smooth, cool, free, and a zillion others, I’m sure (and you thought electronic music could get convoluted in its genre demarcations). A ‘best of’ collection seemed an appropriate starting point, but how does one differentiate the soulless corporate cash-grab compilations from the earnest sets curated by authorative historians? Packaging is usually a good indicator of quality, hence why I impulsively sprung for a 4CD box-set celebrating the 50th Anniversary of Verve Records sitting in a used shop – the box has a nifty, faux-vinyl texture to it.

This, of course, means I must now write four reviews of jazz music. No, there’s no avoiding it, no loopholes in my arbitrary rules I can exploit. I’ve written reviews for Every. Single. Disc. of box-sets that include Neil Young, Pete Namlook & Klaus Schulze, Pete Namlook tributes, plus two centered around video game music. It’s only appropriate and decent that I afford jazz music the same prestige (shut up, Goa Trance – Psychedelic Flashbacks, you’re irrelevant to this discussion).

Think there’s not enough material to cover here? Please. I could easily spend four reviews discussing the players involved on CD1 alone, though most of it would be dry regurgitation of historical talking points. I have practically no intimate knowledge of such musicians like Bud Powell, Charlie Parker, Illinois Jacquet, or Machito & His Afro-Cuban Orchestra. I do recognize some names here though, like Billie Holiday, Lester Young, Roy Eldridge, Nat King Cole, and the ever-famous cheek-puff maestro Dizzy Gillespie, but that’s through sheer cultural osmosis. I can tell you how these guys were influential in the development of jazz music, but not why it’s significant with any sort of clairvoyance on my part.

Nay, the most I can offer here is detailing the ‘feels’ such music gives me, and yeah, CD1, I feels ya’. The disc covers the first ten years of Verve’s history (technically not even Verve yet, but I’ll get to that later), when jazz was moving on from swing and into its bop era. For the most part, I quite like this era, what with its brisk rhythms and free-wheelin’ solos (soundtracking cartoons of the time doesn’t hurt either). There’s an energy and zest for performing to the best of one’s abilities captured with these recordings, a chunk of which are live as performed in concert halls. Even the slower, bluesy numbers have enough soul in them I can’t help but hang on each note. Add in that authentically crap, crusty, ripped-from-records quality, and it feels like I’m transported to another time and place.

Various - United State Of Ambience II - Mid-Atlantic Sessions

Moonshine Music: 1994

Moonshine wasn’t foolin’ in hitting the streets hard with their relaunch. Following their first forays into the ambient compilation market, they pushed out another acid jazz collection (no, really, it was popular!), two more DJ mixes featuring famed jocks Paul Oakenfold and, um, Keoki, plus the start of their Psychotrance series. Oh, and inexplicably, a CD that included euro house from Glam, Bizarre Inc, Snap! and 2 Unlimited came out in this bundle. True, there was some Prodigy, Atlantic Ocean, and X-Press 2 on Handraizer, but man, does that disc look dodgy for a print quickly establishing itself as a purveyor of sounds from the underground.

Still, what point is there in releasing a compilation if you can’t capitalize it into a series? None, says they, and Moonshine put out another United State Of Ambience the same year. Huh, that was remarkably fast. Did they have another selection of tracks ready to go or something? Perhaps so, volume two coming with a thematic sub-title and everything. Right, the first one had a loose ‘tribal ambient’ idea running through, but the message was muddled with an unfortunate spotty track list. Seems whatever mistakes were had on the first one were promptly corrected though, Mid-Atlantic Sessions a far lovelier, consistent, wonderful, and ace compilation compared to its predecessor.

First improvement is some actual star power up in this (ambient) house. No offence to Young American Primitive and Dubtribe Soundsystem, but few were aware of these names way back in ’94, to say nothing of Rabbit In The Moon side-projects. On United State Of Ambience II, however, we get tracks from Orbital, One Dove (with an assist from Andrew Weatherall), and Salt Tank. Okay, Electric Skychurch too – he was about the closest thing to an early Moonshine star anyway, especially his breakout track Deus, included here as the opener. One Dove does an utterly epic world-beat dub thing with Transient Truth, Salt Tank offer up their chill version of Eugina in Sargasso Sea, while an edited cut of Orbital’s funky Attached tops out the heavy hitters. Yeah, not sure where Moonshine got the idea of Attached being part of the ambient-scape, but why waste a perfectly good tune if you’ve got the license for it?

And though the surrounding tracks are mostly rounded out by unknowns, they hold their own in complimenting the heavy (chill) hitters. Ambient dub gets its due with Aurora Borealis’ Aquacular Subsun and Synthetix’ The Tao Of Dub. The ‘angelic ambient acid’ side Deus did so well is also explored in Somnambulist’s Deeper Sleeper and Influx’ Dreamscape, and Grain returns for another minimalist tribal-dub track in Sixteen. Best of all, no sappy Pure Moods styled world-beat!

Moonshine knocked it out with United State Of Ambience II. At a time when ‘ambient house’ compilations were aplenty, the label found a fresh angle to approach it from (psychedelic sky-church music!), and executed it perfectly. If you see this in a used-shop, don’t hesitate in snatching it up.

Various - United State Of Ambience

Moonshine Music: 1994

Though the label that Steve Levy and Dave Audé built got its start in 1992, the Moonshine that came to dominate much of the American electronic music shops didn’t really take form until 1994. The scene’s growing momentum was inescapable, and the print was quick to capitalize on it, expanding the print’s potential while rebranding with a spiffy new logo that’d carry them into the future. They also abandoned most of the hardcore rave that marked their earliest output, taking on other genres that were defining a surging counter-culture. The first of these was an acid jazz collection (hey, it was popular in the early ‘90s!), followed by a progressive house rinse-out from Sasha and Seaman (dude!). Another edition to their already popular Speed Limit 140 BPM series followed that, with a compilation featuring the chill, trendy genre next: ambient.

Only trouble is I don’t think the boys at Moonshine quite knew much about ambient yet. The liner notes open with “Ambient music is the sound of unification, a gathering of tribes.” Que? What’s that got to do with ambient music? Had they not heard of anything from Eno, Orb, Aphex, or Roach? Meditation music, I can buy as having attributes of ambient, but most of the stuff gaining critical plaudits in art houses and chill-out rooms had little association with yoga meets and drum circles. Nay, what Moonshine’s actually peddling here is a world-beat collection, with some meditative, minimalist dubby stuff thrown in for flavor. Makes sense, what with groups like Enigma, Deep Forest, and so on about the closest thing most folks in America associated with electronic ‘chill-out’ music in those days. Throw a pile of public domain ethnic samples into a soup with tribal beats, and you too can have your very own ‘ambient’ compilation on the market!

I shouldn’t be too hard on Moonshine though, as they likely didn’t have much in the way of licensing options at this early stage of their lifespan. Some utter unknowns are floating in this tracklist, a couple of which only made appearances here. League Of Nations’ Impossible Religion sounds like it wandered off from a Pure Moods CD, and Goa: Season Of The Monsoon from Rhythm Method is only marginally better.

Of more interest are way early efforts from Hawke (Gavin Hardkiss) and Dubtribe Soundsystem, both doing ultra-moody, minimalist dub works, coming off like PWoG tracks. Side projects also get a look in, most prominent of them being the Rabbit In The Moon ambient venture LunaSol. Both Dawn’s somber piano-n-pad work and groovy world-beat action of Butterfly are wonderful tunes, almost worth the price of United State Of Ambience alone (especially since you can’t find them anywhere else). Young American Primitive doing his eclectic chill thing in Expansion, and Electric Skychurch doing their prog-house thing in Creation rounds out an… interesting compilation, to say the least. United State Of Ambience at least maintains its manifesto of ‘tribal ambient’ throughout – just a shame only half the tracks hold up though.