Bone Thugs-N-Harmony - E. 1999 Eternal

Ruthless Records: 1995/1998

The only Bone Thugs-N-Harmony album you’re supposed to have, even if you’re not a Bone Thugs-N-Harmony fan. Took me damn long enough to get it too! You’d think, after relaunching this blog with all that Bone Thugs love that E. 1999 Eternal was already been in my collection. Nope, though I did intend to pick it up shortly after getting that Creepin On A Come Up EP. Made sense considering how much I talked up the Cleveland crew’s debut LP and all. Not sure what happened though. I do recall getting side-tracked by hip-hop from Ice Cube and Public Enemy in the ensuing year, not to mention music funds being put towards a few “DJ Mix Series On A Budget” projects. Then there was another Waveform Records splurge, a Juno Reactor splurge, filling a few blanks from Wu-Tang Clan, an indulgence in Nine Inch Nails… wow, Lord Discogs sure is great at chronologically chronicling one’s buying habits!

Whatever the case, I finally done did get me some E. 1999 Eternal (because going back to playlist those early Ace Tracks reminded me as such), and I feel like such a tool for holding out this long for it. Right, I already know the hits off here practically beat for rap, so ingrained in mid-‘90s airplay they are. Tha Crossroads was the big one of course, and undoubtedly the sole reason many grabbed this album. Interestingly, the original version was quickly replaced by the more popular Dj U-Neek’s Mo Thug Remix that was featured on the classic Grammy nominated video. Their reflective, harmonious vibe is what many came to associate with the group, including yours truly when hearing tracks like 1st Of Tha Month and weed odes like Budsmokers Only and Buddah Lovaz. It’s not that I wasn’t aware of their heavier, thuggish ruggish mould, but it wasn’t the sound getting the radio (re: school dance) play or video rotation on MuchMusic. This album though, damn is it ever a heavy one.

The success of Tha Crossroads belies the fact Bone Thugs-N-Harmony cultivated an underground image of gritty, ultraviolent gangsta menace with a taste of the occult. Their world wasn’t just harrowing tales of the ghetto, but one also tempted further within the darkside of life, relying on spirits and demons for guidance in their lives. The contrast of rapid-fire double-time raps with harmonic soul is like hearing the angel and demon on your shoulders, though in the case of E. 1999 Eternal, the sinister tone of the music suggests all their sins are winning out. Down ’71 (The Getaway), Land Of The Heartless, Die Die Die, Eternal, and Mo’ Murda.. . all gripping street narratives with solid beats, chorus-chants, and ominous sounds, never sacrificing intensity for the chance at a little chart action. It was probably all a bit much for those expecting more Crossroads within, but that didn’t stop Bone Thugs from aspirations of rap dominance from here on out. For more ill than good, unfortunately.

Various - Techno Nights Ambient Dawn (2016 Update)

EMI: 1995

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.)

Easily the funniest thing about that old review is how much I'm dropping the acronym 'EDM' throughout, like it's become the acceptable alternative to the old catch-all term 'electronica'. Over a decade ago though, it really was, even if mostly limited to online discussion in web forums; a handy short-form since continuously typing 'electronic dance music' was much too cumbersome. How was anyone to know 'EDM' would not only enter the public lexicon, but turn out even more reviled a catch-all than 'electronica' or 'techno'? Surely not I in the year 2005, making it hilarious seeing it used so innocently back then. It does make me wonder what might replace ‘EDM’ as “WORST. CATCH-ALL. EVER.” for fans of electronic music. Oh, it will happen. Ten, maybe twenty years from now, when ‘EDM’ is a long, faded memory of a fad, something will come along as a new hotness, turning scenesters of old (re: the current kids) irate over a silly little word.

Speaking of passing time, holy cow does Techno Nights – Ambient Dawn grow more exceptional as the years tick off. Not so much for the music, though there are quite a few great tracks throughout (and that god awful Winter (Armani Mix) from Dave Clarke). Some cuts are showing their age (The Grid’s Texas Cowboy, Shamen’s Destination Eschaton (Hardfloor Vocal Mix), The Prodigy’s Weather Experience, Orbital’s Lush), but most remain as vital as the day they were crafted.

But putting together an ace assortment of tracks isn’t that big a deal, especially in this day of building your own playlists on streaming services. No, what astounds me about this compilation now is that it was even made at all. To be blunt, licensing is a bitch, and the thirty-seven tracks that makes up Techno Nights – Ambient Dawn come from all over the place. EMI’s clout is big, no doubt, and probably could have convinced the independent labels like Warp, XL Recordings, One Little Indian, Mute, Kickin’, and others for contributions to this project. The fact they also got all their major competitors – BMG, Virgin, Sony, WEA, MCA, Polygram – in on this is nothing short of remarkable. I can’t imagine something similar being put together these days, not without all manner of licensing hassle as labels continue consolidating their assets ever more protectively.

And even if they did manage a compromise, the result wouldn’t be anything like the track list we have here. I can’t think of any other commercial compilation where you’d find The Chemical Brothers, DJ Hell, Eon, The Beloved, and Plastikman rubbing shoulders with Philip Glass, Yello, Vangelis, and Brian Eno. Where big hits like Enigma’s Age Of Loneliness and 808 State’s Pacific 707 hang out with utter unknowns like Jam & Spoon’s Hispanos In Space and The Black Dog’s Raxmus. What would a comparable compilation even look like in today’s scene? It wouldn’t. I truly believe no one could pull off a sequel to Techno Nights – Ambient Dawn. I’d love to see an attempt though.

Various - The Sound Of Zero And One

Control Music: 1995

Probably the most remarkable thing about this compilation has nothing to do with the music within; rather, in the liner notes, there's mention of Canadian comedian Tom Green. Keep in mind this was released in 1995, well before he blew up big in American media, in fact still slumming it on Ottawa public cable access. Yet among the obligatory thank you notes, Glenn Humplik, who put this CD together, inexplicably but prophetically proclaims Mr. Green “will be a star by the time you read this”. True, Mr. Humplik worked as a co-host on a revamped MTV version of The Tom Green Show, so the two were likely mates, but how he thought this CD was a suitable medium for such a namedrop bump is bizarre. For you see, folks, The Sound Of Zero And One is hopelessly obscure, for once in the truest sense of the hyperbole.

For one thing, this collection of ten tracks offers scant few recognizable names beyond the most hardcore of Toronto techno trainspotters. Even Lord Discogs is flustered by the likes of Ajax (2), Circular (3), Buzz (13) (!!), and Ki (3). Right, Circular and Buzz is in fact Mr. Humplik himself, but the rest don't have much presence beyond this compilation. Fred Exelby pulls double duty here, once as All Broken, and another as part of A.S.A., and little else beyond. Space Ace and Auto Kinetic have more respectable discographies for way underground techno, but I’ll be astounded if you've heard of these names before reading this review (no, Tom Green doesn't count).

And yet, someone out there must be jonesing for The Sound Of Zero And One, for when I popped over to Lord Discogs to get a little background detail, I discovered the Marketplace asking price for this CD is nearly $75! What the Hell? I'll grant the music within is somewhat unique for mid-'90s techno, though not astoundingly so. Most of it is groovy acid, sometimes more minimal (Ki's Fluorescent, Circular's Reaction In Sync, Auto Kinetic's Blue Solutions, Buzz' Turboset), other times treading into trance's territory (All Broken's Set The Controls, Ajax's Evening Chanting), and elsewhere feeling the experimental itch (A.S.A.'s Autorhythm). Oh, and a lovely bit of ambient to close out with Space Ace's Sea Of Japan. A few of these are also exclusive to this CD, which I suppose does increase the value for collectors, though I can't imagine many fans of Ki or Circular existing out there. Or maybe they do, if there are folks willing to shed seventy-five bones for a copy.

It’s weird discovering all this after having The Sound Of Zero And One in my collection for nearly two decades. The only reason I bought the CD was it met two purchasing criteria during my honeymoon raver days: track list should feature mostly unknowns, and has cool looking cover art. I’ve gotten decent enjoyment from it over the years, but it doesn’t get played often. Maybe that price point will now make it sound better?

Filter - Short Bus

Reprise Records: 1995

It’s been a long while since I dealt with any of Ishkur’s old CDs. Okay, there’s been a scattered few that had actual ‘techno’ on it (win an Ishkur t-shirt if you guess which ones!), but nada from his pre-rave days. I bring this up because it’s the only reason why I’m reviewing Filter’s debut album today. Obviously I’d never have bought this for myself, though the possibility of it being a gift from an aunt always lingered. Seemed every guy I knew who had some hard rock or alternative rock or industrial rock collection had Short Bus in their CD pile. You couldn’t escape it, even in store shelves long after Filter had faded from public discourse. You’d spot it in ‘90s rock retrospectives, the cover art distinct and memorable. Yet, beyond one major track, does anyone recall any of the tunes off this? I sure don’t.

Yeah, yeah, not like I should know of Filter’s work, since their music scene was well outside my interest. Hear their music I did though, primarily because their brand of Nine Inch Nails metal made for ample edgy soundtrack fodder. In fact, they were tapped for the lead single off Spawn, collaborating with The Crystal Method on (Can’t You) Trip Like I Do. Right, ‘collaborating’ is used very loosely here – more like sang over an existing Crystal Method cut, but Spawn was one big ‘yawn’ anyway, amirite?

Point being, Filter’s the sort of alternative rock one easily identifies with a specific era of music. That post Trent Reznor, pre Limp Bizkit sweet spot of aggressive distortion, angst-filled singing, yet just enough strength of songcraft to take it seriously enough. Like I said, perfect for goth-inspired movies such as The Crow, Demon Knight, Valentine, The X-Files, 3000 Miles To Graceland (huh?), The Cable Guy (wait), and Little Knicky (oh come on).

Short Bus, then. I guess it’s good. Hey Man, Nice Shot, the opener tune about R. Budd Dwyer’s suicide, I most certainly have heard, because that song was on nearly every alt-metal compilation you could think of. MTV Buzz Bin, Family Values Tour 1999, Freedom Sucks Vol. 2, The Next Generation, Absolute 90’s, plus a number of those soundtracks listed above. Most of the tunes off Short Bus sound like it, some a little sludgier, some a little brisker, all heavy with distortion and shouty lyrics. I’d make a quip about how all industrial metal sounds the same, but Nine Inch Nails sounds pretty different song to song, and it’s not like ninety-percent of techno isn’t recyclable either. One thing I do like is the requisite acoustic tunes (Stuck In Here, So Cool) have a neat bit of distortion fuzz playing in the background. Like, some sort of sonic sift or sieve.

For as hopelessly ‘90s as Filter come across, they’ve managed a career lasting to this date. Good for them, I say, though one ride on the Short Bus is all I need for my Filter fix.

Ol' Dirty Bastard - Return To The 36 Chambers: The Dirty Version

Elektra: 1995

This is the first Wu-Tang album I actively recall playing, though I probably heard a couple other Clan tracks before without realizing it. Not that I even knew Ol' Dirty Bastard had anything to do with the Staten Island supergroup at the time – nay, t'was that bizarre cover that drew me in. Hell, the name alone had me grabbing the CD for an in-store demo, curious what a self-professed dirty bastard would sound like. Skipping past a far too long intro, I was hit with the instantly catchy piano hook of Shimmy Shimmy Ya and boisterous rap of Ason Unique demanding he be given the mic’ so he could take it away. Yeah, I hadn’t a clue what that meant, and it still seems like a clumsy line, but damn does he ever make you want to repeat it. Aside from a few hilariously juvenile sex raps though, I don’t recall much else from that first playthrough. Guess I was distracted by a nearby, shiny new Club Cutz 6 CD or something.

Much has been made of the utterly daft notion that Dirt McGirt had enough lyrical skill to have Second Wu-Tang Solo Album honoraries bestowed upon him, much less an actual solo career. Folks loved his sing-songy style of off-kilter flow, sure, and he had a crap-tonne amount of charismas (it’s how he keeps his rhymes smellin’ so funk-aayy). No one, however, labelled him a remarkable wordsmith. Hell, how often did he even pen lyrics? So much of Return To The 36 Chambers sounds like he has a cliff’s notes version of material to hang off a menacing RZA beat, then freestyles the rest. Ol’ Dirty spouts off so much seemingly random jargon and rapping styles over the course of nearly any track, it’s honestly quite a thrill hearing which tangent he goes on next. Like, here’s some lyrics from Hippa To Da Hoppa:

“Niggaz better loosen they ass, felt the glass / A forty ounce bottle, yo yo yo yo money yo pass! / Woooh-woooh-woooh! I sweat it live / MC gonna live God? No, the nigga die / The max-imum of MC's are populating / The min-imum of those MC's are dominating / Now all and together now, to what what who? / Rhymes come stinky like a girl's poo-poo.”

They don’t read like much, but coupled with his unpredictable flow and RZA’s unpredictable production, this simple tune is oddly mesmerizing. And the whole album’s like this! Even when fellow Wu-Tang members pop in for a few bars, they all fall lock-step into Mr. Russell Jones’ off-kilter world in the slummiest Shaolin back alleyways.

I don’t think there’s another hip-hop album out there quite like Return To The 36 Chambers. It’s the ODB unleashed in all of his unhinged charm, the RZA getting his gear grimy as fuck, released in the prime of the Wu-Tang Clan’s musical output. You may not care for the Ol’ Dirty Bastard’s content, but you sure don’t wanna’ look away either.

L.S.G. - Rendezvous In Outer Space (2015 Update)

Superstition: 1995

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.)

A do-over for the L.S.G. debut album? Eh, I don't think that's necessary. Technically, that review I wrote for TranceCritic a decade ago (!!) was my second go at Rendezvous In Outer Space, the first a blurb on Lord Discogs. Yeah, I was carrying a torch for the CD back in the day, hoping to get all the young trance fans hype to some proper, authentic, genuine, indisputable, legitimate, um, authoritative, uh... twenty-four carat...? Are you messing with me, Online Thesaurus?

Point being, I felt like a man on a mission in ye’ olde year of 2004, a strident, determined soul set upon the harsh environment of internet web forums filled with ‘noobs’. They were gonna’ learn some history, gosh darned it, understand that trance did not, in fact, begin with Tiësto’s In Search Of Sunrise or Armin’s A State Of Trance. Oliver Lieb is the don of this scene, sons and daughters, the Godfather, the King Kahuna, the Khan, the Czar, the Duke and Duchess, the potentate, the oligarch, the overlord, the, um, rex, uh... the ‘crowned head’? Dammit, Online Thesaurus, you suck sometimes, you really do.

Obviously, I was a fool in turning the L.S.G. discography into weapons for a trance jihad, even subtly hijacking a young, hopeful trance website for my own nefarious plans. I shouldn’t be forcing my interests and opinions down the ears, eyes, and throats of fresh fans of a genre because I feel their current heroes are pale imitations of the real deal. See, there I go again - believing my taste superior than theirs because I have better albums in my possession (you know it’s true!). I cannot deny it though: Rendezvous In Outer Space should be mandatory listening for anyone who fancies themselves a fan of the genre. Lieb helped lay down so much of the groundwork future producers would emulate, why deny the roots of a form of music one purports to love? I mean, any metal fan worth his rock-salt dutifully digests the works of Black Sabbath – L.S.G. deserves the same respect, yo’.

Okay, enough of that torch. For one thing, there’s nothing else to prove with this argument. Those who’ve stuck with trance in the ten years since eventually came around to ol’ Oliver’s music regardless. It’s kinda’ hard not to look to the past when the present kept turning to such crap, right? More than that though, I no longer see music as tools for crusades, quite content in enjoying it for my own reasons and sharing my thoughts with those who are willing to hear or read. Oh yeah, I’m totally turning into that old guy sitting on the park bench with Sennheiser headphones feeding the raving raccoons. What makes Rendezvous In Outer Space so peerless, they ask, and I tell them, I tell them I says, “Hear how Lieb uses percussion for maximum effect with minimal fuss? By g’ar, that’s some mighty fine trance beat craftsmanship there, the likes you don’t see any more, b’gosh.”

Various - Platipus Records: The Ultimate Dream Collection

Popular Records: 1995

I honestly haven’t a clue how this 2CD collection came to be. On paper, it’s simple enough: the first two volumes of Platipus Records’ annual label showcase in a single, tidy collection – an ‘ultimate dream collection’, if you will! – now made available in North America without obscene import fees. Simon Berry’s growing print needed a foothold over here as it was, and surely one of the homegrown, underground electronic music labels would provide an outlet: Moonshine, Hypnotic, Instinct, maybe even Astralwerks. Wait, you’re going with Popular Records? The upstart Euro-Dance label that’s promoting the likes of J.K, 2 Brothers On The 4th Floor, and N-Trance? Berry, you boss, how did you pull a deal like that off? Your brand of acid trance might have critical buzz in your U.K. homeland, but here in Americas, no way was there any commercial potential for-

Oh, Robert Miles’ Children (Dream Version) is on here. Well, that explains that. Popular just wanted that one track, and you let them have it in exchange for taking on the first two volumes of Platipus Records as well. That’s my theory, but if so, bravo, Mr. Berry, for it sure conned a few people I knew into buying this double-discer for only one song.

Contrarian that I must be though, I bought Platipus Records: The Ultimate Dream Collection for the other twenty tracks. Okay, roughly eighteen others – I can do without the goofy What? from Catalyst and way under-produced Sea Of Tranquility from Art Of Trance. An affordable 2CD set of trance though, how could any budding 'cracker resist such a deal? I'll put up with Children if it means I get to discover new artists like Art Of Trance, Union Jack, Poltergeist, and Clanger! Wait, why do they all sound so similar, what with distinct burbling acid basslines, rough rhythms, and vocal ethnic samples?

Yeah, I realize Platipus was young, had yet to gather an extended roster they could promote, but holy cow, Mr. Berry, whore out your own music much? Whether as original artist, collaborator or remixer, ol' Simon has credits in all but four tracks: the aforementioned Children and What?, plus Quietman's Plastic Gourd, and Technosommy's Elektron Bender. Of course, this is great news if you can't get enough of his vintage acid trance, with plenty of classics making up the track list: Two Full Moons & A Trout, Red Herring, Cambodia, The Colours, Seadog, Orange, and Cactus. And hey, there's even two versions of Octopus (original and Man With No Name Remix) and Vicious Circles (Spirit Level Mix and Union Jack Mix). This last one's a bit funny hearing twice, since, beyond a bassier climax, there isn't much difference between the two mixes. Then again, they were initially on two separate releases so most folks wouldn't have noticed it.

They'd definitely notice how much of a sore-thumb Children is on this collection though - off to BMG with ya', Mr. Miles. There's acid trance to soak in here instead!

Carl Craig - Landcruising

Blanco Y Negro: 1995

Here's something that will boggle your mind. For all his musical innovations, creative drive and honoured status within the world of techno, Carl Craig's album output is seldom name-dropped when talk of essential electronic musics goes down. Not that he helps matters by shying away from the LP format, having released fewer than you could count on your hand – it's apparently all about the singles with Mr. Craig. Still, should you find yourself bluffing your way around the 313 Posse and in need of a C-C album to talk up, you can't go wrong with Landcruising. It may get overlooked on lists of Definitive Techno Releases, but at least it's from the mid-'90s, when everything was awesome sauce and radical radish-relish. Of course that's a real thing – a decade that gave us Pepsi Clear and hypercolor shirts would definitely have radical radish-relish. Sorry. Dignity, that’s what Detroit techno demands, and by Belleview I’ll give it for Landcruising.

Craig had spent more than enough time honing his craft with singles, remixes, and aliases. The fans demanded an album, and though ‘proper’-techno albums were still something of a rarity, he capably handled himself in the format. He even bookends the experience with the sounds of getting into and exiting a car, because obviously you would if you’re making a Detroit techno album about cruising over landforms.

What seems to go forgotten about Landcruising is just how sci-fi and - dare I say - geeky the music is. Despite its steady techno pulse, opener Mind Of A Machine isn’t all that dissimilar to space synth of the ‘80s, especially when a guitar solo makes its mark in the final stretch – I can feel the mullet growing on the back of my neck as it jams away. Follow-up track Science Fiction has a guitar solo too, though the percolating funky rhythms in this future-leaning track at least adds some class to the prog rock wailing.

Like Model 500’s Deep Space of the same year, these are rather musically optimist portrayals of future-music, an outlook for techno that sometimes goes neglected given the general urban decay Detroit suffers from is typically the influence most producers from the region draw inspiration from. There always was a sense of escapism in Detroit techno, but the landmark albums almost unanimously glorify the griminess of illegal warehouse events and future-shock existence, feeding into a self-perpetuating 313 mythology. It’s why Landcruising, despite having lovely music like the ambient A Wonderful Life, epic Technology, sexy smoothness of Einbahn, and neo-classiness of One Day Soon, gets overlooked compared to its contemporaries – it defies the established Detroit techno narrative, and didn’t have many successors when folks figured the genre could only go one way (to Berlin, apparently).

Still, you can’t go wrong with having this in your library. Landcruising may not be a definitive collection of techno, but there’s very little else out there like it. I mean, who’d be so bold as to usurp the mighty Craig legacy?

Speedy J - G Spot (& !ive)

Virgin Music Canada: 1995

The only Speedy J album you’re supposed to have, even if you’re not a Speedy J fan. I mean, who can argue with G Spot? It’s got future-cast techno, lovely ambient, big beaty electro, and even (whisper it) classic trance. Throw in the !ive CD that was released the same year as a double-disc package, and you’ve got yourself a definitive collection of mid-‘90s electronic music that many point to as essential Jochem Paap listening. Ginger? Definitely strong, but a bit stuck in early ‘90s mode and still playing by Detroit’s iron-clad rules. Public Energy No. 1 or A Shocking Hobby? He pushed himself for creative challenges, which is good, but in the process pushed away a number of fans he earned with his early work, which is bad. Loudboxer? Yeah... no – it’s a fun album for what it is, but far too musically singular for any but the most die-hard of techno heads. Many key tracks off G Spot and !ive have appeared on compilations and DJ mixes (erm, and music guides), especially the prog jocks who wanted a little techno roughness to go with their melodic grooves and constructs.

So G Spot it is then. Is that hesitation I sense though? Need a little convincing, do you? Since its kinda’ what I’m supposed to do with this blog, I shall tickle your most potent of music pleasure centers with what you’ll find on here …uh, in word form. In a totally non-threatening, respectful manner, if you want to that is. I suck at game.

Anyhow, this album features ten tracks, some long, some not. Mr. Paap opens with typical branches of techno that was making the rounds of the mid-‘90s: something a little jazzy with The FUN Equations, Ping Pong feeling the sci-fi electro, and Fill 25 has spaced-out acid groove. These all owe more than a debt to Detroit’s lineage, and though these are fine tunes, they aren’t that far of a stretch from what the various giants of that scene were up to. What’s G Spot’s big deal, eh?

Then Lanzarote and Extruma make themselves felt, ambient at its most lush – just eleven solid minutes of bliss. The only way to follow upon such a sequence is by hitting the listener with fat funky acid breaks as conceived by space station robots, but workers out at The Oil Zone will work too. Treatments comes off rather inconsequential after that, but it leads wonderfully into another great ambient interlude with Fill 17, which serves as a perfect respite before going back into the space acid techno-trance in the titular cut. Cap off with a final bit of cinematic ambient music in Grogno, and you’ve yourself an instant classic of the ‘90s. And then you can enjoy it some more on !ive, plus a couple older cuts (Symmetry, Pepper)and exclusives like Fusion, Scare Tactics. Yes, it’s the same Fusion that appeared on Northern Exposure 2, and the whole CD’s got music in that vein. No more excuses, mang.

Various - Organism 02

Dossier: 1995

Dossier was one of the giants of the German industrial scene, harbouring such long-lasting acts like Psychic TV, Chrome, and Controlled Bleeding. It was also Delerium's early home, back when Bill Leeb and Rhys Fulber were better known by their EBM project Front Line Assembly. They must have gotten quite chummy with the reps of Dossier, because they were also commissioned for a brief run of compilations titled Organism. Judging by the names that cropped up on these discs (that I recognize), it was intended as a showcase of fellow Vancouver acts, put together for Leeb and Fulber’s own short-lived Esoteric Music, and distributed by Dossier. So obviously Delerium’s got a few tracks on these compilations. There’s also Keith Arem of Contagion (who did some score work for assorted PC games), and DV8R, who I feel like I recognize from somewhere, despite small Discogs presence. Oh, and Adham Shaikh’s prominently featured too, because when you think of industrial and dark ambient, you think ethnically-tinged meditation music. Wait, what?

Surprisingly, the Shaikh tracks fit with Organism 02’s general industrial aesthetic, probably because he made them specifically for this compilation (so sayeth The Discogs). Equilibrium is totally dark ambient, creepy pads and synths dripping with claustrophobic fear of shadows and alien abduction. Relativity has more of a primitive tribal-trance thing going for it, which would sound cool as a Pychick Warriors Ov Gaia remix, but rather odd for a Shaikh tune, especially considering Journey To The Sun came out around the same time as this compilation. Maybe these were older, unused tunes?

Delerium also got in on the exclusivity action, their track Infra Stellar only appearing on Organism 02. Until it showed up again on the Cleopatra’s Leeb collection Cryogenic Studios a few years later. And then on Nettwerk’s second Delerium collection Archives Vol. 2. Okay, so Organism 02 isn’t so tantalizing for Delerium completists anymore; maybe Shaikh completists though. The track itself? Eh, this was during the duo’s transitional phase, figuring things out in the sample-heavy world beat field while retaining their dark ambient goth sound. They’ve done better.

The other acts, then. Are they worth the inevitable fiver burning your loins should you happen across Organism 02 in a used shop? Virtual unknown Nigel provides a lovely bit of ambient techno in Anemone, while DV8R and Sect go the borderline-psy acid trance route. The Pilgrims Of The Mind’s Paramedilia sounds like it was inspired by early dub-house, though played far straighter than The Orb ever would. All of these are fine tunes for the price you’re likely to find them at, though your collection won’t suffer if you decide to skip on them either.

The Organism series lasted a couple years after this one, ending at 04, and about the time Delerium started their proper crossover push. Guess they couldn’t multi-task as before. It’s a nice snapshot of industrial’s early association with ambient and trance though, a relationship that often goes overlooked these days.

The Orb - Orbus Terrarum

Island Records: 1995

The trippy, goofy, psychedelic edge The Orb cultivated helped them develop a distinctive sound unlike any of their growing legion of contemporaries. You just knew they were indulging in the narcotics for their inspiration though, and one couldn't help but wonder if it'd get the better of them after awhile. Orbus Terrarum gave us the answer, an album full of weird experimentation for seemingly no better reason than its own sake. Most were ready to give up on The Orb after this one, wondering if their creativity had worn itself out. Oddly enough, Orbus Terrarum has gained more love in the ensuing years, folks now praising the bold attempts at such leftfield production, even if the actual results were sometimes tedious as a listening experience. Goes to show what a string of truly mediocre releases can do for one's back catalogue.

It starts out innocently enough with Valley and Plateau, two tracks that’d previously appeared on Live 93. Right off you can hear the group (re: whoever you believe to have done most of the production while others sat in and smoked blunts) is pushing their ideas of dub as far as they can. So many layers of sounds and effects are found in Valley - jangly rhythms, grumbly basslines, dreamy pads, samples of nature – that it creates an almost endless sense of space, one you can easily get lost in with good headphones. Plateau, meanwhile, is an utterly blissful piece of ambience, with shimmering cascade of warm strings and synths – an added groovy reggae-dub rhythm midway helps maintain a sense of progression in the track, that we’re not pointlessly meandering about in a flights of psychedelic fancy.

With its charming opening of classical piano, Oxbow Lakes looks primed for another memorable piece of music. Letting it morph into endless layers of jangly dub effects is all well and good, but it doesn’t go anywhere, save an ethereal return to the main melody as the track winds down. Even less focused is Montagne d’Or, at first seemingly a new take on Spanish Castles In Space with (then) current production chops. Then it starts building up tempo, eventually erupting into cavernous beats. It sure sounds cool, but what was the point, other than the guys in the studio wanting to try it out?

That sense of ‘music in service of experimentation’ carries through White River Junction and Occidental, nearly twenty-five minutes worth of sounds, effects, samples, and incoherence. Aside from brief bits (a bobbly bass sound here, a quirky dialog snippet there), hardly anything sticks in my head. Despite playing far too coy with a children’s tale about mischievous slugs eating juicy green lettuces, final track Slug Dub at least knocks off all the studio wankery for a simpler, though overlong, ambient dub outing.

Orbus Terrarum’s a love/hate album at this point. You’re either down for The Orb’s experimental excess, or not. When on point, it’s wonderful music – when not, it’s a waste your time (oh hi, Occidental).

Raekwon - Only Built For Cuban Linx...

Loud Records: 1995

Finally, after diddling about with less-heralded Raekwon albums on this blog, it’s the big one: Only Built For Cuban Linx. You can't understate how massive the Chef's solo debut was when it dropped, overshadowing Mr. Woods' career forever after. Hell, how many times have I name-dropped Cuban Linx here? A few times, I wager. As always with these classic hip-hop LPs, there's little more I can say that hasn't been exhaustively covered by other, deeply immersed chroniclers of rap musics. I'm just a passive fan of the stuff, and Hip-Hop Sykonee ain't coming back to this reality.

What elevated this album into its top tier status was how it added an unexpected dynamic to the then young Wu-Tang Clan saga. Enter The 36 Chambers established a whole crew of talented MCs, but as Method Man and Ol' Dirty Bastard were easily distinguished from the rest, its little surprise they'd do solo joints immediately after. Who'd be next though? GZA seemed likely for another LP, and that Inspectah Deck guy was spitting some fire. Maybe he would- wait, Raekwon? Really? Yeah, he was good too, but not so charismatic as the others. He came off like a little attack dog on the Wu-Tang album and guest spots, barking a bunch as the big dogs swaggered about. Good as a side-man, sure, but a full solo's worth? Well, okay, let's see what you have.

Now this... this is interesting. Instead of another straight-forward run of battle rhymes, pornographic come-ons, and gritty street tales, we're offered a complex narrative, centred on a Mafioso theme. Though not the first time a hip-hop performer was influenced by mob films and lore, seldom had anyone done it so thoroughly as Rae' here. As was expected, the extended Wu family was brought in for guest verses, including ample appearances of Ghostface Killah, who’d already established himself as Rae’s right to his left (y’know, “form like Voltron”?). To sell his crime drama though, the Chef had his crew take on all new aliases that fit his vision. RZA became Bobby Steels, Inspectah Deck became Rollie Fingers, Method Man was now Johnny Blaze, and even a guest appearing Nas took on the alias Nas Escobar. With everyone all in on Cuban Linx’s concept, an instant classic was all but guaranteed here. The Wu-Tang Clan proved beyond a shadow of a doubt they could mix their personas up as needed to fit the music they wished to create.

Of course, the two key ingredients are Raekwon and RZA. No longer the ‘barking’ MC on prior albums, he was suddenly calm, cool, and collected as a rapper, spewing insane amounts of new lyrical vernacular and slang that left the hip-hop world scrambling to decipher and catch up. Meanwhile, Bobby Steels raided his blaxploitation influences, completing Cuban Linx’s ‘rising above the streets’ narrative (with a little Scarface thrown in for good measure). There honestly isn’t another album in the Wu-Tang canon that sounds like it. Reason enough to get this, yes?

The Human League - Octopus

EastWest: 1995

Seriously now, how many of you even knew The Human League had an album out in the mid-'90s? Maybe if you were in the UK at the time, you heard some buzz (it placed Top 10 on their charts), but seeing as it's their homeland, that's not much of a surprise. The rest of the world sure didn't give much hoot about Octopus though – Hell, wouldn't surprise me if most figured Phil Oakey's group ceased to be before the '80s even ended. Is that any way to treat one of new wave's most innovative acts? Sure, their blatant turn to chart-topping synth-pop may have soured those praising the original line-up (re: before the two chicks), but still.

The tale of The Human League will make for a wonderful VH1 special, following the classic rise-fall-return-respect story that channel loves churning music documentaries over. While everyone knows of their peak years (you’ve heard Don’t You Want Me Baby, guaranteed), the group fell on dire times not long after. Label problems, studio problems, and irrelevancy problems all plagued them, finally bottoming out at the turn of the ‘90s with Romantic?, an album that did so poorly that Virgin cancelled their long-term deal with them. Damn, that’s cold. It’s like Virgin flat-out confirming what the pop world was chortling: if you sound like “The ‘80s”, you have no place in the hot NOWness of “The ‘90s”.

Then “The ‘80s” became fashionable again, and The Human League saw their career rebound and appreciated, having persevered through the dark times when most would have hung things up. And that was long after having a gold-selling album like Octopus in the middle of the decade that forgot them! Hey, it’s like I said: did you even know this album existed?

For that matter, what’s even on Octopus? Synth-pop, as only The Human League does it. Guess you gotta’ hand it to Oakey for sticking with what he knows. There are some undeniably upbeat tunes here that’ll worm their way into your earholes, each with production that sounds crisp for the times without betraying the vintage analog quality the League made their mark with. These Are The Days is a fun, spacey little jaunt; One Man In My Heart, though riding Ace Of Base’s success, is charming; Cruel Young Lover makes use of breaks and electro sound effects, not to mention clever chord sequences on Oakey’s part; electro-space pop House Full Of Nothing is triumphant, defiant, and undoubtedly a little autobiographical; and instrumental John Cleese, Is He Funny? sounds like a stab at progressive house, though a tad dated by ’95 standards.

That all said, if you’re the sort who figure The Human League begins and ends with Dare, Octopus won’t interest you much. For that matter, I can’t say fans of the pre-Dare era would spring for this either. This album’s still as synth-poppy as the genre gets, but if you’re fine with a little more of the stuff in your life, Octopus will satisfy.

Adham Shaikh - Journey To The Sun

Instinct Ambient/Interchill Records: 1995/2006

Yet another name checked off on my “Must Have In Respectable Music Collection” list. Fortunately, I haven't been quite so neglectful in gathering a few odds tunes of Adham Shaikh's discography as I was with poor ol' Amon, Shaikh often cropping up on ethnically inspired ambient compilations. I've even seen him play out a number of times at Shambhala Music Festival, the chap practically a fixture at the psy/chill/groove stage. As his base of operations is local, I've simply taken him for granted over the years, a musician I could dive into whenever I felt like it. And now I feel like it, so here we are. How about you?

Shaikh got his break with this album Journey To The Sun, originally released on Instinct’s short-lived, seminal ambient sub-label (called, um, Instinct Ambient). I won’t deny feeling a little smug going into this one, figuring the hype surrounding this LP was due to the usual scarcity of mid-‘90s ambient (though Interchill did re-issue it in the mid-‘00s). I mean, I’ve heard lots of ambient music. No, like lots of ambient music. Pre-ambient music, post-ambient music, nu-ambient music, and that. Spacey ambient, silky ambient, and sulky ambient; drone ambient, dark ambient, and dank ambient. Noodly ambient, wibbly ambient, whispy ambient, wanky ambient, meditative ambient, snoozing ambient, Ambien ambient. I’ve heard ambient in sets, I’ve heard ambient under stars; I’ve heard ambient on a walk, I’ve heard ambient engaged in talk. There just isn’t any way I can be surprised by this genre.

And now here’s Journey To The Sun, surprising me with something new and interesting. Damn.

The basic ingredients here are well-worn elements of the genre: calming synth tones, dub effects creating vast sonic space, sparse percussion, a little Indian-themed spice. The way Shaikh weaves them into play though, is simply haunting, a feeling of floating out of body, spirit free of form. I wouldn’t blame you for having doubts, this sounding like astral projection malarkey, but when I listen to Emergence, Zero G, and the titular cut, it’s like I’ve been unshackled from my Earthly prison, left to roam space as I wish. There’s plenty of other music that has this affect on me, true, but little that’s done it so immediate and completely as here. It’s awesome!

Things aren’t all soul-space-surfing on Journey To The Sun though, other tracks finding ways to find their chakra flow. Infinite Emanation has a mild world beat thing going for it, dubby ambient groover Liquid Evolution wouldn’t sound out of place on an Orb LP (especially at sixteen-plus minutes in length), and Ethereal Ion gives us a taste of ol’ Adham’s ‘70s krautrock influences. Throw in simple sonic doodles as interludes between the centrepieces, and you’ve yourself an ambient classic.

Seriously, if you’ve even the slightest interest in this genre of music, get on Journey To The Sun. I feel like a right idiot for having bypassed it this long. Gotta’ stop taking these albums for granted.

2 Unlimited - No One (BioMetal, Pt. 5)

Quality Music: 1995

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.)

“Are you ready for this, Anita?”

“Is that some kind of joke?”

Ray smiled. “How do you mean?”

Her reply was quick and exasperated. “We’ve had all manner of horrors thrown at us! Things both living and machine, mutations of animals common and exotic, the very walls around us pulsating and breathing like we’re inside the intestine of an asteroid-sized BioMetal. We just made it through of wall of crustaceans, each as big as our ship! And you’re asking me if I’m ready for whatever’s lurking inside that cavern?”

Ray checked his weapon and shield gauges, each still in the process of recharging, an estimation of but a few minutes before they could proceed. Some of the strongest life-signs they’d encountered yet rested just beyond the darkness before them, readings capping out nearly every sensor designed to monitor for BioMetals. Either an armada even larger than the one the HALBARD had tore a path of devastation through lay ahead, or, as Anita speculated, a central ‘brain’ complex that controlled them all. Either way, it looked like a fight to the finish, and they’d need all their spare energy reverses locked and loaded before taking it on.

“It’s probably a big, blobous tentacle,” Ray quipped, tapping a steady rhythm on the panel to his right. “Like, maybe a squid-thing, with a huge beak that could snap our ship in two if we got too close. I don’t think we’ve seen one of those yet.”

“Huh, it’s no more ludicrous than the dragon-thing we already killed.”

Ray chortled. “There, see, it’s not hard to see the lighter side of all this nonsense.”

Anita sighed again, but it was different this time, less irritation than Ray was used to hearing from her. It felt like her breath somehow billowed out from his earpiece, coursing through his body and settling just under his skin. He shuffled in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable. “How do you do it, Ray?” she asked. “Keep optimistic even in such abhorrent surroundings?”

Ray pursed his lips, surprised he had to think a bit for a reply. “Hope, I guess,” he finally said. “That there’s something better than being a ‘hot-shot’ pilot with a skill for killing BioMetals in my future. Maybe settle down in a tropical paradise, make a little tango music.”

“It takes two to tango,” Anita quietly said.

Ray smiled. “Is that an offer?”

“Maybe. We’ll see, after we kick the last of these BioMetals’ asses.”

“Hah, do BioMetals even have asses?”

Anita giggled. “Honestly, no one knows, and I don’t care to be the first to find out.”

Ray powered the HALBARD’s system’s back on, the ship humming back to life. “Me neither. Let’s end this!”

HOW DOES THE THRILLING BIOMETAL SAGA CONCLUDE?
Oh, you know: big bad beat, galaxy saved for another epoch, Ray and Anita do victory parades, General Wilde retires to Planet Kaypewsolaceniceawesome, Dr. de Coster disappeared into a black hole of his own invention. Usual space opera stuff.


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

Various - Mortal Kombat

TVT Records: 1995

The movie Mortal Kombat represented everything awesome about being a teenager in the ‘90s. Based on the classic fighter that pissed off no end of mothers and sold a ton of Sega Genesis (“we got blood, yo!”), a film was inevitable despite a jaded gaming culture untrusting of such things. Yet against the odds, Mortal Kombat delivered about as good a movie as the demographic could have hoped (re: campy fun; didn’t outright suck). The original score was composed by long-time Warner studio hand George S. Clinton (who also went on to do the Austin Powersmovies), while several songs were licensed by TVT Records to give the movie that proper Gen-X feel. And hoo, what a soundtrack it is!

Mortal Kombat’s well regarded in how it exposed many to electronic music, despite techno making up barely one-third of the track list. TVT though, they had a few signed acts too, including many industrial groups. KMFDM’s biggest hit, Juke-Joint Jezebel, is featured in the opening couple cuts, leading right into ‘techno jihadists’ Psykosonik and Juno Reactor- whoops, I mean Traci Lords. If any metal-leaning teen felt ‘techno’ was “gay-ass shit”, Control’s a track that had them reconsidering, slamming beats and thrashing riffs galore. Additional industrial rock acts like Sister Machine Gun and Bile didn’t hurt in further cementing that connection. Also, this was the first soundtrack Orbital’s Halcyon + On + On was featured, beating Hackers by a month.

Then there’s the metal. Fear Factory’s Zero Signal was the standout of the bunch, mostly from acting as the backing score to Johnny Cage and Scorpion’s match (arguably the best scene of the whole movie). There’re old hands like G//Z/R (such grinding guitars!) and Napalm Death, and newer acts like Type O Negative and short-lived Mutha’s Day Out. A solid assortment of music for the metalheads, then, and an incredible eye-opener of the genre’s potential for the sorts who never gave it a chance before (*cough*).

And what discussion about the music of Mortal Kombat is complete without bringing up The Immortals? I’m certain Virgin only had a quick cash-in on mind when they approached Oliver Adams and Praga Khan for a techno album based on the game. It’s a testament to their skill, then, that what resulted not only became a surprise hit, but has endured as the definitive Mortal Kombat theme in all its incarnations. Techno Syndrome may be utilizing classic Belgian techno tropes to the nth degree, but it’s done so expertly, there’s not a Kombat soul alive that can resist its potent appeal. Heck, even the covers that emerged since, including the Utah Saints’ go at it on here, pales to the Immortals original.

Mortal Kombat wasn’t the first soundtrack at bringing metal, industrial, and techno together (Cool World has that honor, I believe), but definitely proved it could be commercially successful in doing so. Spawn, The Matrix, and many more ‘90s action movies followed its lead, an impressive legacy for something everyone was certain would fail.

James Horner - Braveheart

London Classics: 1995

What a bizarre week of music. That's what I get for taking on someone else's teenaged CD collection, but some sense of it all would be nice. All of these, it just don't add up: ace synth-pop, corny euro-pop, old-timey rock, over-the-top rock, boring-as-sludge rock, and now this. At least James Horner makes use of a tiny bit of electronic music on this soundtrack – like, a brief bit of ominous pad in Revenge - but that's more synth work than half of the other material I've covered this past week (to say nothing of what's yet to come).

Anyhow, Braveheart was the movie that turned Mel Gibson from heartthrob action movie star into super-mega serious acting star. Also, quicker than you could say “bye, Costner”, Hollywood found themselves a sparkling new historical-epic director, ol’ Mel setting the world of film on fire in the ensuing decades with many more successful directorial follow-ups. Then he set his career on literal fire while standing on a rickety rope bridge, likely spouting a bunch of drunken nutjob nonsense.

It's been years since I last watched the movie, endless parodies and Mr. Gibson's increasing meltdowns making it difficult to take it seriously anymore. I never was in much of a hurry to make a repeated viewing of Braveheart anyway, a movie that had a terrific first half, then dragged as dry politics and blunt martyrdom replaced a compelling storyline and intense action. An extended public execution is the movie's climax? Well, that's just all sorts of depressing (and subtle-as-a-brick symbolic). Why not throw in the full Bannockburn Battle at the end, give the audience its proper cathartic release? Oh, right, it’s Mel’s movie.

James Horner’s score for Braveheart perfectly captures the narrative downward slope of this Mediaeval melodrama. By the mid-‘90s, Horner was well established as one of Hollywood’s A-list composers, despite his work never catching onto pop culture until Titanic. Braveheart inched him a bit closer to the top though, with stirring uilleann pipe themes conjuring images of romantic pastoral Scottish days long since gone. Funny, that, as the uilleann pipe is in fact Irish in origin (which explains why I think Celtic music instead), but as these pipes have a softer, melodic tone to them, it’s understandable why Horner would utilize them over traditional Highland Bagpipes.

The pipe theme is often repeated in the early portions of the score, as are many recurring melodies and leitmotifs, of which Horner’s always excelled at (possibly only rivalled by John Williams). As Braveheart plays through, it’s easy to recall all the associated moments from the movie, including the powerful build of The Battle Of Stirling. Unfortunately, the CD never recaptures that peak. As we move into the aforementioned ‘politics-n-martyrdom’ segments, it seems Horner’s run out of gripping music too. It’s still serviceable score work, just nothing as captivating as the pieces that made up the first half. At least they weren’t in danger of also getting turned into a trance tune by DJ Sakin.

The Beatles - Anthology 1

Apple Records: 1995

The Beatles are John, Paul, George, and Ringo, a very important band in the world of everything. When they started, however, they were “just a band”, as Lennon puts it in an interview kicking off this anthology of ancient Beatles music. And do I mean ancient, some of the demo scraps on here sounding like they were pressed on sixth generation wax, copied to eighth generation tape, and burned to two-decade old CDR. Who would even care about poorly-recorded, garbled covers of American blues? Everyone, man! It's the f'n Beatles, the most important band in the world of everything, remember? Okay, enough hyperbole.

Still, as The Beatles reached their 30th Anniversary of existence (and despite not being an actual band for two-thirds of that time), the well was running dry on how to milk their legacy. The albums already existed, plus the re-issues, the re-re-issues, the b-sides, the live recordings, the compilations, the greatest hits packages, the other greatest hits packages, and who-knows what else in the bootleg market. Likely, it was demand for unauthorized audio that got this Anthology series going – if people want to hear The Beatles in their crummy infancy, then give the people what they want (for a tidy financial reparation, of course).

They couldn’t release this music as a regular album though – the early demos were of such shit sound quality that even an ardent fan would feel ripped-off. Instead, Anthology presents itself as a historical documentary, spotlighting the behind-the-scenes growth of the band as they developed from unknown entities to global deities, including exhaustive liner notes detailing extra bits of obsessive trivia. Clearly only the hardcore would be interested in a CD version of a three-part VH1 special, but there is some fascination while listening to this, especially so with CD1.

After half a disc of warbly covers, slap-dash sessions, and playing music as little more than a lark, The Beatles suddenly get serious about their craft, songs and recordings much tighter and focused. It’s like someone convinced them they could be greater than they currently were, and it’s no surprise this transition is marked by Brian Epstein briefly reading passages from his autobiography. The man was almost single-handily responsible in fashioning The Beatles into the stars they’d become, and after he remarks how no one was initially interested in the band’s recording tests, we’re treated to two all-time classic Beatles hits, Love Me Do and Please Please Me. The boys were flying high thereafter, never dropping back to earth again.

CD2 features more live shows, TV spots, studio sessions, and covers of well-worn rock staples; again interesting as a chronology of their exploits than the musical content. There’s an appearance with the British comedy series The Morecambe And Wise Show, gigs with endless screaming girls (not The Ed Sullivan Show though), and other assorted wise-cracking moments that runs their career up through 1964. What happened after that… well, that’s detailing for further down the Abbey Road (no, I’m not reviewing the other two Anthologys).

Various - Macro Dub Infection, Volume 1

Virgin: 1995

Before he was turning dancehall heads as The Bug, Kevin Martin paid his flat money compiling a few CDs for Virgin Records. His first was the fourth volume of Virgin's double-disc ambient series showcasing acts from the genre's lengthy history, most of the prior volumes culling material from Virgin's own extensive back catalogue. Having exhausted all the familiar names though, they turned to Mr. Martin for his expertise on most things avant-garde, experimental, and dubby. Not sure what prompted Virgin’s show of faith in an oddball post-rocker, but his selections must have impressed the label enough to give him his own short-lived series, Macro Dub Infection. Or maybe Virgin just wanted in on that 'ambient dub house' trend The Orb spearheaded. Way to be late to the game, guys!

Still, Pre-Bug didn’t follow that rule by a long shot. Instead, he gathered up two CDs worth of dub-influenced music from across the electronic board. Some names and tunes are about as you’d expect from a compilation style-biting Beyond’s gimmick. Opener The Struggle Of Life from The Disciple hits all those classic ambient reggae-dub vibes, and other familiar jams from 2 Badcard, Rootsman, Automaton (Bill Laswell under his eight-zillionth alias) round out a first half of tunes most likely expected of a compilation titled Marcro Dub Infection. What’s that atmospheric jungle cut from Spring Heel Jack doing at the second position though? Yeah, there’s plenty of dubby affects at work in there, but no one said this was a drum ‘n’ bass collection too. Wait, Omni Trio’s on this as well? Pft, if you think that’s odd, get a load of classic industrial group Coil getting in on this action; not to mention indie post-rockers Tortoise, IDM wonk Bedouin Ascent, and ill trip-hoppers Skull vs. Ice. And that’s just CD1!

Frankly, ol’ Kev’ going off the proper deep end by showing off even the most tangently dub music out there (it’s an infection upon all musics!) is about the best way he could have put this together. Retreading the reggae-roots style so many others had before would be utterly redundant in 1995, and plenty others were filling in other aspects of dub (Planet Dog’s got the ethno-psy-dub covered, mang). Better to show off acts few would associate with the macro-genre while you have the chance.

Most interesting are the tracks by names that might have lured potential buyers based on chart recognition. The Paranormal In 4 Forms finds breaks pioneers 4 Hero running the gamut of ambient, trip-hop, jungle, and even classic techno in a span of eight minutes. Elsewhere on CD2, Tricky goes all weird abstraction with Ambient Pumpkin (oh hi, Goldfrapp). And I’ll take the ambient techno-dub style of Bandulu’s Come Forward any day, mainly because Macro Dub Infection’s the only place one can find this track.

In fact, there’s quite a few exclusives and rarities on this collection, just another of its selling points. Variety of music and extensive liner notes of dub’s history aren’t bad incentives either.

GZA/Genius - Liquid Swords

Geffen Records

The only solo-Wu album you're supposed to have, if you're any kind of fan of the Wu-Tang Clan. Yeah, yeah, you can point to plenty other albums as strong offerings from the group, though Liquid Swords almost unanimously holds a Top 5 position regardless. What separates this one from, say, Only Built For Cuban Linx or Supreme Clientele, is it’s as much a RZA album as it is a showcase of The Genius’, erm, lyrical genius. He’d had over two years to refine the minimalist, grimy, funk-soul groove by way of kung-fu style pioneered with Enter The Wu-Tang Clan, thus Liquid Swords comes of like the Wu-Tang album RZA could have made if he’d waited a little longer to unleash his master project.

True, Bobby Steele had worked on Method Man and Ol’ Dirty Bastard’s solo albums in that time, but those seemed custom tailored to each of their personalities. Gary Grice, on the other hand, was on a comparable wavelength with his cousin in where the two hoped to take the Wu’s style, so it makes sense his first solo outing as GZA ended rich with the chop-socky mysticism and dark-as-fuck music.

My God, I could go on forever about how awesome these tracks are! Gold’s cold, operatic backing with a piecing whine; smooth as satin pianos in Duel Of The Iron Mic; the clumpity rhythms and twitchy synths of Killah Hills 10304; the guitar plucks and desolate emptiness of Cold World. And that’s just the music. GZA’s great as always with what he brings to the mic, and the rest of the Wu (all contribute in some way, though some more than others) are all still in mid-‘90s hungry mode, A-games from the whole damn Clan.

Okay, the album’s brilliance is common knowledge, accepted lore, and biological fact. I’m adding nothing here by repeating the Liquid Swords narrative. I wonder, though, of a review impossibility: someone who loved Mr. Grice’s first album, Words From The Genius, but loathed this one. I wonder... *cue Wayne’s World fade*

And gangsta rap claims another promising young hip-hop artist. It was ridiculous enough that Will Smith and Jazzy Jeff did it, but someone calling himself The Genius shouldn’t be elaborating street violence and drug deals. Well, okay, he did on his excellent debut album too, but at least Life Of A Drug Dealer retained Cold Chillin’s excellent upbeat, funky production. The music on Liquid Swords is so depressing and gloomy. Even the opening titular cut, the funkiest old-school track on here, is undone by bookending it with that samurai movie dialog.

Content aside, I guess The Genius – sorry, The GZA - still sounds as good as he did on his debut, but he hardly gets a chance to shine solo, tons of guest versus from that Wu-Tang group he’s now hanging with showing up. Man, what happened, Gary? You could have kept the old-school party vibes alive, not jump on this slummy bandwagon.

Mm, yeah, well maybe not.