Various - Welcome To The Technodrome Vol. 4

ZYX Music: 1995

I can't be sure, because sifting through ZYX Music's immense discography is like staring at a European phone book, but I think Welcome To The Technodrome is the first compilation series the label attached the nascent 'techno' tag to its archives. Yes, even beating out their main series, Techno Trax, by a couple years. Considering only four volumes were released though, it pleads the question why this one never caught on like others. Ah, my lovelies, that's because this is a tie-in with a short-lived sub-label of ZYX, dubbed Techno Drome International.

Their brief history is a little more interesting, springing up to champion the hot sounds of 'industrial techno' coming out of Dorcheim, Germany. This included acts like Robotiko Rejekto, Recall IV, and Pluuto. It petered out by '92 though, only two Welcome To The Technodrome volumes making it to store shelves in that time. Yet for some reason, ZYX continued the series, capitalizing on any brand recognition to flood the market with CDs. By '93's Vol. 3, you had names like Ramirez, Bronski Beat, Microbots, and 2 Unlimited taking up disc space. Which finally brings us to Welcome To The Technodrome Vol. 4, the last of them, released in '95 when the brand's original 'industrial techno' ethos was a forgotten footnote.

*Phew* All that word count getting the history out of the way. Good thing this double-discer has little worth talking about otherwise. I picked this up at the same time as Techno Trax Vol. 12, both sitting together on a used-shop rack, and there's small surprise why, nearly identical in style and tone as they are. There's a few repeats – Liquid Bass' In Full Effect, Alien Factory's This Is Not A Daydream, Paranoia X' Party Program - but it sure feels like more. Way to milk those licenses, ZYX.

Mo-Do kicks the compilation off, if you needed a reminder of just how ubiquitous Eins, Zwei, Polizei was in mid-'90s Europa. Following that, you get some hard acid (Ben, Ben And No Ben's Rotes Harr), a German trance tune that sounds like it's aping the melody from some synth-pop ditty, muddy standard trance in Submerge's Oblivion, and some straight-bosh 'ardcore from DJ Metz's Hey, We Want Some. Elsewhere, things get silly with Josh's Der Säbeltanz, a tune that might find you hilariously balancing a bunch of plates on poles while riding a unicycle. When it isn't going full happy hardcore, CD2 offers more German trance of varying quality, a couple worth a listen, but most well left in the past.

Which makes me wonder: why do I judge these jams so critically now? Had I somehow stumbled upon Welcome To The Technodrome Vol. 4 when it was new, and my exposure to such music was so fresh and so clean, might I have better things to say of it today? I cannot deny Teenage Sykonee would have been all over this back when, but Lord help him if he didn't outgrow silly nonsense like Moneypenny's Que Sera, Sera too.

Mo-Do - Was Ist Das?

ZYX Music: 1995

It's remarkable that I should know of Mo-Do at all. Not in any post-eurodance, “haha, irony” sense, but when the act was fresh and new, their single Eins, Zwei, Polizei invading European clubs and compilations to such a degree, it breached Canadian shores too. Certainly many eurodance acts made it here, but they always had one thing going for them making it possible: their music was in English. Much like italo disco before it, the native language of the British Isles was somehow decided upon as the de facto tongue of dance club commercial success in Europe, helping it find a foothold across the Atlantic too. Songs sung in Spanish or Swedish or Swissish likely found success in their homelands, but no way they were gonna' make any bank in Canada, nosiree.

Then along comes an Italian pairing of Fabio Frittelli and Claudio Zennaro, the latter of which eking out a tidy career making house and trance as Einstein Doctor DJ. That Fabio fella' though, he had a good look to him, his Austrian heritage lending itself as a natural front-man for modelling or movies or music. He'd even dipped his toes in a couple rock bands, but found dance music more his calling. Hooking up with one Sergio Portaluri led to a couple singles as F&F, though these didn't attract much attention, pretty much standard English-singing eurodance of the day. Sergio co-produced some music with Claudio though, and when Mr. Zennaro was introduced to Mr. Frittelli, they felt enough musical chemistry to try again, only with a different angle: go full Germanic on clubland. Claudio was already making trance with a German bent, and Fabio felt Teutonic speech suited his voice better than English (or, heaven forbid, ragga!).

The result was Eins, Zwei, Polizei, a tune that celebrated the succinct punch of the German language, wrapped up in an earwormy minor-key melody straight out of the German trance book. Despite the absolute glut of eurodance in 1994, it was enough of a unique angle that it propelled Mo-Do to the top of the charts across Europe. Other German producers had hits, but none so wonderfully captured the Teutonic charms of their dance music. And all it took was a couple Italians to get there. Hey, an Italy and Germany allaiance found a way to conquer Europe after all!

The following album, Was Ist Das?, is about as you'd expect from eurodance of the time. A couple follow-up singles recycle the same formula that made the first such a success (Gema Tanzen, Super Gut), Hallo, Mo-Do does that Stadium House thing Scooter would make bank off, and Liebes Tango offers up a tune with a little English in it. There's also the requisite ballad (Fur Dich, My Love), plus a couple attempts at 'artsy' music (Hamlet, Das Konzert). They're fine in spicing the album up, but yeah, you're here for those tasty minor-key melodies and catchy German phrases, even if you're mangling them into 'engrish' as you sing along. Mmm, 'salty cakes'...

Earth Nation - Terra Incognita

Eye Q Records: 1995

No one disputes Sven Väth was the Head of Eye Q and Harthouse, the face and brains, if you will. Several producers were easily the Muscle, acts that helped build the label into one of the seminal powerhouses of techno and trance coming out of Germany (Oliver Lieb, Hardfloor, Alter Ego, Resistance D, Vernon, Energy 52). One man, however, was unquestionably the Soul, always lurking in the studio away from fame and glory. Who's influence not only helped refine Sven's approach to dance music, but left an undeniable, lasting imprint on how we remember those Eye Q and Harthouse records to this day: Ralf Hildenbeutel. Not only was he behind some of their most successful singles (L'Esperanza, Superstring, My Name Is Barbarella, Desire, Firedance), but his songcraft gave many tracks a charming, retro-futuristic stylee we so often associate with early trance. He never got as much due as he deserved, but its difficult thinking of Eye Q or Harthouse without thinking of Ralf.

He had many projects with both labels, but one seems to have slipped from general discourse compared to his other works: Earth Nation. I suppose part of it has to do with the rather generic name, not exactly the sexiest option when surrounded by stuff like Progressive Attack, Odyssee Of Noise, Icon, Summerbreeze, and Cygnus X. His partnership with guitarist Marcus Deml yielded a few albums though, this here Terra Incognita their second effort. It's also regarded as one of classic trance's last great LPs before the tsunami of Oakenfold changed everything.

Even here, it's clear Ralf and Marcus knew the trends were shifting, Terra Incognita almost devoid of the blistering Frankfurt pace of old. The fastest track on here, The Ikarus Syndrome, features a rhythm that's right out of the Underworld Banger playbook, all the while opening with a lengthy, sweeping, operatic build that could give Cream punters goosebumps. Later in the album, Green Sky Is Red has a nicely brisk pace of its own, though has more in common with goa trance of the mid-'90s than anything Germanic. Elsewhere, tracks Elucidate and The Artificial Dream get more of a proggy groove going, the former with a warm-up set vibe, the latter sounding not out of place in a peak-hour Sasha & Diggers set of the time. Really, the only 'pure' trance cut on Terra Incognita is the opener Way In, a loopy hypnotic number that has as much to do with Frankfurt techno as anything else.

Throw in a few ambient interludes, a requisite 'experimental' track in Transfiguration (breakbeats in goa!), a couple wind-down downtempo tracks towards the end, and you've a remarkably solid trance album for the year 1995, hardly dated at all. Why does this go so overlooked, then? It came out towards the end of Eye Q's run? The 'Earth Nation' handle just too easily bypassed? Not appearing on enough Very Important DJ mixes? Who knows anymore, but if you crave vintage trance, there's no reason for you to ignore this.

Jiri.Ceiver - Head.Phon

Harthouse: 1995

Jiri.Ceiver strikes me as one of those techno producers that could have gone down as Very Important, had things gone just slightly differently for the chap. For sure appearing on Sven Väth's lauded Harthouse print gave him plenty of exposure, but he had some tough acts to follow from the label's opening salvo (Hardfloor, Spicelab, Der Dritte Raum, Alter Ego, Koxbox). Couple that with the fact Frankfurt's brand of techno was coming off a tad dated by 1995, the blistering BPMs and hypnotic melodies falling out of favour in lieu of the functionalist warehouse tools Detroit and Berlin had started cranking out. Harthouse was finding ways of adapting with these changing trends, stating they sought producers on the cutting edge of “creativity and experiments that do not necessarily originate from the Techno/House scene.” - essentially an “idea tank”, though clearly they couldn't commit full-stop to the manifesto, the IDM wonks leagues beyond anything Väth's label would churn out.

Head.Phon comes close though, for good and ill. One Arno Paul Jiri Kraehahn was already an odd sheep out of the Harthouse flock, his debut single Multiplex a weird mishmash of Frankfurt techno and bleepy electro. He followed that up by getting deeper into the acid action (Hardfloor's influence was inescapable), but eschewed anything remotely resembling a hook or melody in the process. He was on a mission to feed you weird machine sounds whether you liked it or not, functionality be damned. Hey, not a bad idea, as techno had gained a reputation for being dominated by mechanical fetishism, though always in a far-flung futuristic aesthetic, not as a contemporary sound – wasn't that what Industrial was for anyhow?

Maybe Head.Phon would have been better received with that in mind, making no illusion you're in for a challenging trip into the experimental side of techno. Half the tracks are sonic doodles and abstract noises, some like Isolate, Retrospect, Sleeps, and Tne Poise so minimalistic and quiet you'd be forgiven in thinking the CD had prematurely stopped playing. What even is the point of these? I'm not gaining any deeper appreciation for electronic abstraction with them, and musique concrete was hardly in need for a revival in the '90s when so much else kept pushing electronic music forward. They honestly come across as begrudging filler to reach a full-length album, as the main techno cuts weren't enough.

And as for these, they're a strange, esoteric bunch. Hvb and Vacui offer up bleepy, squelchy Frankfurt acid, Trental400/5 is eight minutes of soft, minimal crunchy noises and bloopy beats, Ratio sounds like proto psy-trance of around the time, and Osiac... hey, this is actually at a reasonable pace, with reasonable acid and reasonable techno toolism. Probably could have been rinsed out ten years later if Very Important Techno DJs had the single.

But yeah, because Head.Phon was too Frankfurt for techno purists, and too weird for trance fiends, it got lost in the shuffle, as did most of Jiri.Ceiver's work. A shame.

Psykosonik - Unlearn

TVT Records: 1995

Imagine, if you will, The Prodigy following Experience not with Music For The Jilted Generation, but rather something akin to Underworld’s Second Toughest In The Infants. Or perhaps The Chemical Brothers’ Exit Planet Dust followed with a record sounding like Paul van Dyk’s Seven Ways. Maybe Moby’s ravey self-titled debut with an ambient album. No, wait, that one did happen.

Point is, the change in style between Psykosonik’s first record and their sophomore effort Unlearn is drastic, such that you’d never suspect you’re listening to the same ‘techno jihadists’ that emerged at the tail end of the old-school rave era. Not that one can blame them for moving on; Belgian beats were plenty dated even when these lads were doing it. Through sheer force of pluck and charm did Psykosonik succeed, fusing their techno with EBM snarl and future-shock topics (Silicon Jesus, Shock On The Wire, etc.), elements they could carry forward if they were bold enough. For whatever reason though, the group said nuts to that, and turned their ears towards the realms of progressive house and ethnic-fusion downtempo, of all things. Funnily enough, when Unlearn dropped, even those genres were showing signs of creaky strain in their original incarnations. Yet once again, Psykosonik overcome such stylistic limitations for a second LP that could have been an early ‘electronica’ hit had TVT Records put more marketing muscle behind it. On the other hand, Unlearn is such a departure from what the label was promoting (mostly NIN), I’m not surprised they let it slip by.

The starkest difference between Psykosonik and Unlearn is how much the group has improved in their songcraft while finding influence from a multitude of sources. The titular cut comes off like a long-lost New Order tune, Ride works a thick trip-hop beat while indulging in darkwave tones and harmonica solos (!), Dreaming Real could work as a latter-era big-beat contribution to an action movie (of course), and I can’t see Sasha or Diggers having much problem working Alone or Object Disorient into one of their mid-‘90s sets. And for a group that just a few short years prior were getting all rowdy in the acid business, there’s some remarkably chill tunes littered throughout this album. Eye Of The Mind brings ethnic chants and acid together into tasty darkwave treat, Chromagnum sounds like Deep Forest with teeth, plus a few scattered ambient interludes link everything together into a continuous, long-player whole. And did I mention all the singing? How is it that I like all this singing? Well, lots of progressive house acts were doing it, so it’s fine if Psykosonik gets their warble on too.

Unlearn could have been one of those Very Important Albums of the ‘90s, but being stuck on a label more known for industrial didn’t do the group many favors. Even worse, TVT rejected their third album, jading Psykosonik so hard they disbanded, prematurely ending one of the more intriguing acts that decade ever produced. Such a pity.

Various - United State Of Ambience III - The Colonial Collection

Moonshine Music: 1995

A few months and two-dozen releases later, Moonshine offered up a third edition to their United State Of Ambience series. This would be the last of them, and indeed the label’s final foray into the ambient genre period. Interestingly, Moonshine’s early fascination with acid jazz would also cease shortly after this, instead moving onto trip-hop in subsequent years for their obligatory downtempo contributions. They did try their hand at a Café Del Mar type compilation - Ibiza Afterhours - but didn’t do much with the concept beyond ape all the popular tracks. By and large, Moonshine’s flirtation with the chill side of electronic music all but ended by the year 1997, finding better success in promoting harder club tracks like big beat, jungle, psy trance, happy hardcore, and gabber. Whoa, wait, aren’t you supped to ‘slow down’ the older you get?

Volume three of United State Of Ambience comes with an… interesting sub-line: The Colonial Collection. Ah heh, doubt that would fly two decades on now. But yeah, I get what Moonshine was trying to do here, suggesting an ethnically influenced assortment of tunes, but without falling in with tired buzzwords like ‘ethno’ or ‘world beat’, terms discerning dowtempo heads considered past their sell-by date at this point. Thus music inspired from former colonial claims is the tag: love it or lump it to your heart’s content.

The opening track comes care of Skylab, in the form of the ultra-spliffed nu-jazz outing Next. Huh, not terribly ‘colonial’, that one. It’s a decent track, with an interesting sample near the end of rumbling thunder slowed waayy down. A friend once thought it was someone moving a heavy stone slab unearthing an ancient treasure. Heck, maybe that’s what the sample is, given this compilation’s theme. I’m sticking with thunder though.

A few returning names must be brought up now. Electric Skychurch naturally is here, closing this CD out with the minimalist, meditative ambience of Outside. Salt Tank is also here, with a moody, tribal little number with Big Dipper that sounds nothing like what you’d expect of Salt Tank. Foregoing side-projects, Rabbit In The Moon comes correct here and does their thing with Dubassex. And while not exactly well-known in this scene, UK ‘space techno’ legends LA Synthesis show up with Du Androidis Dream, a lush ambient techno piece that has nothing to do with ‘colonial chill-out’, but whatever, I like hearing it anyway.

An interesting note about United State Of Ambience III: Electronic Empire-Building is its licensing/label-raid of Australian print Psy-Harmonics. Artists like Zen Paradox (Steve Law), Aquila (the O.G. Aqulia, according to Lord Discogs), and Lumukanda bring more of that ethnic flavor, but with a trippy, Planet Dog bent. And finally, two unknowns add ill’ trip-hop (Granule’s Withered In My Knapsack) and dubby-hop (Grain’s The Suspenders Of Acrobats), unsubtle in hinting where Moonshine’s downtempo muse was wandering that year. Still, can’t help but feel this CD was what they wanted the first United State Of Ambience to be.

Various - Splash!

Raum Records: 1995

Gander at some names in the tracklist: Laurent Garnier, Biosphere, Pete Lazonby, Josh Wink, Paul van Dyk, Carl Cox, Blake Baxter. That’s seven bona-fide legends of techno and trance on a double-disc compilation, all for an easy-breezy five bones off my back. And hey, Sunbeam, Doug Laurent, Scooter, and Joe T. Vannelli also show up, so maybe there’s some fun Euro cheese floating about too. Can’t see how such tonal clash can make for a consistent playback, but perhaps this Splash! compilation has an amazing gameplan, with plenty of unknown producers rounding things out into a cohesive whole. Price is worth a purchase just to find out. Right, about the only thing that interested me was the Mark Bell Remix of Novelty Waves, but there’s gotta’ be a few more worth the piddly investment. Sure, a few…

But what is Splash! in the first place? This comes care of Raum Records, yet another German dance label that sprung up in the wake of the collapsed Berlin Wall. Their biggest claim to fame is the _00% Underground compilation series, while releasing singles from such luminaries like Estelle, Marc Noise, C.O. Injection, Robotnico, and Insane (4). Ah, hmm… so Raum Records didn’t amount to much at all. Far as I can tell, Splash! was released to kick the label off with hot acts and spiffy advertising – literally making a splash on the German techno ‘underground’. They had the right idea, just none of the important licensing to make it happen.

For all the class names I listed above, it seems Raum Records got the most forgettable material from them. Carl Cox’s rub of Garnier’s Astral Dreams is just bog-standard euro techno. van Dyk’s go at Voices In Harmony is a useless radio edit. I have no idea how German trancers Sunbeam got their hands on Lazonby’s Wave Speech, and Bell’s take on Biosphere was completely disappointing for yours truly. Baxter’s Reach Out is at least an agreeable go at deep Detroit house, and it’s interesting hearing Winks’ Meditation Will Manifest, essentially his stab at a Spastik type of techno builder. Did it really need to be over fourteen minutes though? Small wonder it seldom saw compilation duty (R & S Records being stingy with it may have contributed, begging the question how Raum Records secured the rights for this release).

The rest of Splash! pretty much contains the standard acid and German trance of the era, with few of the charms the successful labels offered. Scooter does a remix for Ultra-Sonic’s Check Your Head, and with so much rubbish surrounding him, Baxxter’s “posse” shouts are somehow enjoyable. Holofonic Dream from Deanna Troi (yes, really) uses pad synths that reminded me of Morpheus 7, which makes sense given it’s the same guy (Ufuk Yildirim), Jeyênne’s Japanese Train has a vocal sample that sounds like a pisstake on Dance 2 Trance, and Groovemaster K. tries his hand at Soliloquy House. Everything else? Forget it. Not even worth a two-spot. Find yourself a Ravermeister CD instead.

Tricky - Maxinquaye

Island Records: 1995

Tricky was my first exposure to trip-hop, via Deep Forest of all groups. The world beat duo provided music for the 1995 cyberpunk thriller Strange Days, and Teenage Sykonee being the throes of ethno-pop at the time, eagerly checked the movie out. Cannot deny I was also quite intrigued by the Kathryn Bigelow film on its concept, a look into the near future of the year 2000, and what the End Of The Millennium might hold.

It seems so quaint now, the fear that things would somehow catastrophically and abruptly end just after 11:59pm of December 31, 1999, and I’m not just talking that silly Y2K Bug thing. Nay, Strange Days depicted a society where, with the right kind of angle, seemed on the verge of utter collapse, a powder keg of racial strife and decadent decay, easily lit with but a single, reckless act of senseless, bigoted brutality. I have to admit Ms. Bigelow teased such an eruption so expertly throughout the movie, I actually believed the prophetic Millennial Apocalypse was nigh at the movie’s climax. Yet, clearer heads prevailed, the ‘eruption’ but a ‘scritch’ overall. Ms. Bigelow was smart, knowing Y2K paranoia was much ado about nothing. No, the real problems wouldn’t start until 16 years after! (Sorry, but it’s difficult not getting topical and political right now)

Tricky’s debut Maxinquaye is hailed as one of the shining moments of trip-hop’s mid-‘90s peak, in large part because it’s barely a trip-hop album at all. True, he helped Massive Attack set the template of the genre, and there’s definitely some all-time classic trip-hop class on here. Overcome, the opening track - and tune featured in the Strange Days soundtrack (relevancy!) – works a sultry, dubby, tribal thump, losing itself in the grit of inner city lust and doubt. Aftermath, his debut single, was initially intended for Massive Attack, but the lads behind Attack said ‘nay’ to that one, a shame because it would have fit marvelously into their canon.

That rejection, plus feeling generally stagnant within the group, prompted Tricky to pursue his solo ventures. He had plenty of ideas in his head, but not much production capability on his own though. Enter producer Mark Saunders, who somehow stitched together Tricky’s wayward muse into comprehensible music. Soul, punk, hip-hop, dub, and all manner of sample-heavy abstraction fill Maxinquaye, leaving you unsure where it’s going at any given time. The vocal dynamic between Tricky’s subdued conscious raps and cooing of singer/life partner Martina Topley-Bird fuels the sense of life on the skids, a scattershot collage of hopes and paranoia, lust and despair.

I probably can’t prop this album up any more than the UK press did at the time (holy cow, the hyperbole!), but as one of the seminal trip-hop albums of the era, this “not trip-hop” record definitely earned its spot among the Blue Lines and Dummys. It’s confrontational compared to the others, but that makes it all the more intriguing as a whole, as you decrypt the angst within.

Various - Journeys By DJ: Coldcut - 70 Minutes Of Madness

Music Unites/Journeys By DJ™ LLC: 1995/2002

It’s rare that a DJ mix series is hijacked by a contributor to such a degree, they become solely associated with it. For sure you have game changers, as James Holden and Joris Voorn did with the Balance series. Or some jocks become synonymous with a series due to endless entries into its canon (the forever Nick Warren & Deep Dish show that Global Underground became). Journeys By DJ already had six volumes under its belt by the time Coldcut came along with their seventy minutes of madness, including entries from John Digweed, Paul Oakenfold, DJ Rap, and Danny Rampling. Heck, even Judge Jules beat More and Black to the “30+ Tracks Set” when he put out his mix for the series. Yet these days everyone always assumes Journeys By DJ was a Coldcut one-off, future entries by Gilles Peterson and Jay Chappell even less remarked upon. So impactful was this mix, that it alone received the re-issue treatment in 2002. Oh come on, Billy Nasty’s set wasn’t bad, was it?

Still, you can’t knock the result, 70 Minutes Of Madness easily earning its Classic Status as a DJ mix CD for the ages. They didn’t just rinse out a pile of similar tunes, but studio-mashed tons of disparate sounds, styles, and genres into a megamix of their super-deep crates. Junior Reed hangin’ with Newcleus! Harold Budd pallin’ about with Photek! Plastikman getting funky with Jedi Knights! Air Liquide trippin’ balls with Bob Holroyd! The Dr. Who theme just being all awesome-sauce no matter who’s around it (Red Snapper, The Sabres Of Paradise, and Jimmy Cauty, if you must know). Not to mention a shit-ton of breaks, beats, pieces, scratching, cross-cutting, and acapella action littered throughout. Coldcut were already regarded as masters of the one-n-two, but typically translated their skill into producing DJ tools and sample-heavy songs. This was the first time they got into the studio for a commercial mix CD showcasing their DJ trade – well, second, if you count Tone Tales From Tomorrow a year prior – knocking it out of the park so hard, they practically abandoned this particular market forever after. A shame, as I’d love to hear what another 70 Minutes Of Madness might entail with over two decades worth of gathered new weapons within their coffers.

Possibly the most outrageous thing about this set is how it bucks conventional set construction. The opening salvo including The Truper (Photek), Wagon Christ, and Funki Porcini (with Dillinja on the rub) features some of the most frenetic ragga jungle you’d ever hear in 1995, all within the first ten minutes! You’d think the set could only go down in energy from there, but tons of acid, funk, and breakin’ action maintain an even keel for the most part. Even with sporadic downtime throughout this set, Coldcut never lose the plot, coming back with a new avenue of music to explore. Throw in a final forty seconds of the needle riding out the last record grooves? Yeah, vinyl bliss.

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

Fax +49-69/450464/MIG: 1995/2016

Wait a minute! How are we even getting these Dark Side Of The Moog reissues in the first place? The status of Pete Namlook’s label remains in limbo, so many ancient artifacts from the Fax +49-69/450464 archives long out of print. Even Ambient World, a sublabel specifically set-up for reissues of popular Fax+ releases, couldn’t keep their stock in for long, and they reissued Mr. Kuhlmann’s collaborations with Klaus Schulze twice! You might even still find some floating around, though not at any decent price. And as both prints closed shop after Namlook’s untimely death, everything from the Fax+ archives seems sealed away until the estate sorts things out with their respective owners. It’s not like all those original contributors to Fax+ can come knocking for their music back, can they?

Apparently so, though it’s not surprising that someone who’s been in the business as long as Schulze would have equal share in the Dark Side Of The Moog albums. And it just so happens ol’ Klaus has a reissue deal with MIG (Made In Germany Music), a relatively new print that deals almost exclusively with reissues. After perusing their wares, it seems the name’s a misnomer, with plenty American, UK, and other European groups getting attention from MIG, though I’m hard pressed to recognize much of them. Ian Hunter, Weather Report, Stray Cats… but yeah, there’s definitely a skewing towards German krautrock here, what with bands like Novalis, Epitaph, and of course Mr. Schulze himself making up the bulk. And if MIG is in the process of making all of Klaus’ music available again in the modern era, it’s only proper that the Dark Side Of The Moog sessions should receive the same treatment.

The Dark Side Of The Moog III marked a change in how Namlook and Schulze approached the project: each segment is are now indexed normally! Yep, no more five-minute Parts, where differing pieces bleed into each other and the like. Naturally that defeats the notion of playing these as a single composition of music, but even here the duo are showing signs of growing bored of that angle. Whereas Wish You Were There and A Saucerful Of Ambience generally flowed from beginning to end, each Part of Phantom Heart Brother is clearly different from what came before. Part 1 lasts over eighteen minutes, mostly consisting of corny ‘spo-O-o-O-ky’ modulating synth sounds, and entirely skippable. Part 2 keeps those sounds going for a lengthy fade-out, but vintage Berlin-School synths coupled with spacey guitar drastically changes the album’s tone. Following that, Part 3 abandons ‘70s sounds altogether, going for minimalist abstract electro as a ten-minute lead into the requisite trance cut in Part 4, and not a half-bad offering at that. Finally, Part 5 goes pure ambient, though in that distinct spacey Fax+ style Namlook made his own, before a little kraut guitar action is added to the mix. This is undoubtedly what everyone figured a Schulze-Namlook pairing would produce. We’re finding a groove now, friends.

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

Fax +49-69/450464/MIG: 1995/2016

Make no mistake: Klaus Schulze and Pete Namlook roamed drastically different orbits in the early ‘90s, in no small part from being of two different generations of synth music. One was studious, old-school, and strictly for the art houses, consumed by egg-heads of electronic music. The other had his finger on the pulse of clubland, offering up energetic dance beats alongside his calmer, spacier moments enjoyed by knackered punters. Most attempts at melding the disparate scenes were met with indifference at best, failure at worst. And while I’ve no doubt Namlook took some inspiration from Schulze’s work, plenty other Berlin-School pioneers were still active should he have gained the courage to contact any of them. But why would any of them bother with some ‘rave’ guy in the first place?

Turns out ol’ Klaus did, detecting kinship with Mr. Kuhlmann after hearing his work on the second Air album. How the aged German came into contact with the younger German’s work was almost incidental, a brief meeting from a mutual associate, and somehow from that Schulze took in enough of a sampling of Namlook’s work to request an exchange of ideas, if not a full-on collaboration. Remarkable, considering Klaus was notorious for keeping his synth work a pure expression of his own muse with little outside input. It led to many stunning works, true, but also a fair bit of unfiltered waffle too. Hey, sounds like the bulk of Namlook’s discography as well! Clearly, a match made in stars of heaven.

The Dark Side Of The Moog II picks up where the first left off, expanding on the single-track concept with Schulze’s sounds leading for much of the proceedings. As before, the album is indexed with five minute parts, expanded by two additional tracks as we have ten extra minutes in this piece (A Saucerful Of Ambience). Again, these aren’t demarcations for any particular transition within this sixty-minute long composition, which is just as well because this is one tedious, meandering sixty-minute long composition.

The first twenty minutes is all sound-effects and field recordings, dominated by twitchy mechanical crickets, and intermittently pierced by distant gongs. It paints an outwordly vista, some landscape at the edge of an alien forest, but man does it ever go on and on. Around Part V, sci-fi pings, bleeps, and paarps provide an interlude of sorts, and then it’s back to sound effects for a bit longer (yay running waters). Finally, some half-hour in, we get actual melody, a rather typical offering of Berlin-School synth noodling, but such a welcome respite after so much abstract dithering. Namlook’s ear for trance takes a turn around Part IX, but it doesn’t last long, and we’re back to grand synth solos and field recordings for the final sixteen minutes.

Apparently both Schulze and Namlook didn’t want these efforts to sound too ‘70s, but A Saucerful Of Ambience is about as old-school as these Dark Side Of The Moogs go. They’re still getting a handle on this, methinks.

Boards Of Canada - Twoism

Music70/Warp Records: 1995/2002

I have difficulty thinking of Twoism as part of the official Boards Of Canada long-player lexicon, for no better reason than it initially wasn’t. After the rousing success of Music Has The Right To Children, it wasn't long befor legions of new fans with melted youthful hearts were digging for anything else from the Scottish duo. Savvy heads already knew of their initial EP on Skam, Hi Scores, but word soon spread of a treasure trove of older, ultra-rare material lurking in the shadows of obscurest realms. Some of these are so rare, their very existence is continuously called into question - considering a lack of bootlegs or credible internet uploads, not an unfounded notion. The web always finds a way of unearthing music, always.

For a brief time, Twoism was among these mythical artifacts. Story goes the early Boards recordings were limited to tapes circulated among family and friends, but Twoism received a slightly larger distribution via vinyl. Mind, this was still self-released on their Music70 print, with a mere one-hundred copies pressed, but at least there were confirmed physical records out there, exchanging collector’s hands for pounds of quid (that the saying, right? Help me out, Brits!). Well, these Boards Of Canada were having none of that – why should the trader’s market profit from something they themselves could make bank off? Thus, Twoism saw a proper re-issue on Warp Records, sending those who took out mortgages to own the original wax weeping into the English moors. Or not, those initial pressings undoubtedly still commanding ridiculous sums from the discerning collector. Still, how nice us plebs get to enjoy this music too.

Given the near-cultish fanbase Boards Of Canada developed, it’s no surprise this was a highly sought record. Fortunately, such digging efforts were rewarded with an album that captures the Boards spirit as capably as any of their other LPs. For sure it’s more simplistic compared to what came after, most of their beats the barest of hip-hop rhythms. Meanwhile, the melodies stick to basic, lengthy loops of layered synth and timbre, with very little songcraft exhibited beyond what’s established early in a track. Still, those synth tones… every bit as warm, fuzzy, charming, nostalgic, day-glowy, and other descriptors you’ve read countless times in a BoC review. I could probably eat up my entire self-imposed word-count rattling them all off.

A couple things differentiates Twoism from their later work though, most notably the tracks Iced Cooly and Basefree. Both harkens to IDM’s earlier years, the former a bouncy electro jaunt, the latter an abrasive drill-beat number that sounds unlike anything in the Boards’ official canon. Still finding their way, clearly the lads from Hexagon Sun are. Also, the sound quality of their productions is rougher here, but that’s expected of an early album.

That’s all I have to say about Twoism. It was an album deemed ‘must-have’ back when it was rare as unicorn shit, and thanks to the Warp reissue, everyone can have it. Yay!

Various - Two A.D. (Volume Two Ambient Dub)

Waveform Records: 1995

There was a time, long ago, when I’d be ecstatic having this CD. It was a simpler period of my life, when everything from the underground was new and mysterious, musical artifacts waiting to be unearthed and enjoyed with virgin ears. That was a brief time though, my initial enthusiasm over discovering Two A.D.’s existence waning as it seemed forever out of grasp. Never mind I could have mail-ordered the darn thing at any time - limited funds as a teenager compelled purchasing decisions towards practical items. Besides, after checking out the tracklist via online means, I realized I had a number of these tracks already.

Two efforts from A Positive Life - Pleidean Communication and Aquasonic - were featured on his Synaesthetic album, plus Tortoise from Higher Intelligence Agency came from Freefloater. On top of that, Biosphere’s Baby Interphase and Coldcut’s Autumn Leaves are featured on Two A.D., which I also already had on other compilations. Never mind they were totally different versions – far as I was concerned, that was half of Two A.D.’s tracklist already in my hands. The desire to get Waveform Records’ second ambient dub collection faded further.

When I spotted this in a used shop, I picked it up out of a sense of obligated completion. By this point, I’d also added Groove Corporation’s A Voyage On The Marie Celeste and The Irresistible Force’s famed rub of Autumn Leaves to my coffers, with Sound From The Ground’s Triangle soon to join ranks as well. That essentially renders Two A.D. almost entirely redundant among my CDs, save three tracks. Let me tell you about those three now!

Two A.D. opens with a debuting single from The Starseeds, Behind The Sun. The project would have some minor success in the realms of trip-hop, but this Deep Ambient Mix is pure cosmic, mystical bliss. Way later in the CD, Human Mesh Dance show up with Sunken Garden, a way-minimalist, ambient dub groover of a track. Following that is Late Night from Insanity Sect, a brothers duo so obscure that this is one of their few appearances within Lord Discogs’ archives. Even their album on Beyond, Manisola, had a limited run of one-thousand copies. This particular track is very minimalist too, almost drone-dub with soft, lethargic rhythms. The Starseeds cut is quite nice, but the other two are rather standard far as ambient dub goes, decent little filler pieces for a compilation of this sort.

If I’m giving a blasé impression of Two A.D., that’s no fault of the CD itself; hearing most of these songs in a different order just isn’t so exciting for yours truly. As a compilation of ambient dub though, this is quite good. Obviously some stone-cold classics are on here in Autumn Leaves, Baby Interphase, and Triangle, and it’s all arranged for a nifty listening experience: blissy openers, bleepy acid middle, groovy ease-out. It’s another solid primer of the genre from Waveform, exactly what the label set out to accomplish with these.

Various - Transmissions From The Planet Dog

Mammoth Records: 1995

Planet Dog was doing well for itself within their motherland. Legendary festivals, highly touted roster of genre-bending musicians, nods of approval from famed DJs like Sasha and John Peel. Finding a Stateside distributor was inevitable, but going with Mammoth Records was an odd choice. The print out of Carrboro, North Carolina was primarily a rock outlet, dealing with alternative, industrial, and indie. Some of their more successful acts included Machines Of Loving Grace, Seven Mary Three, Squirrel Nut Zipper, Kill Creek, Vanilla Trainwreck, and The Bats. I’m sure they are all perfectly wonderful bands in perfectly wonderful scenes, but yeah, drawing a big ol’ blank on most of these. But then, I’m sure most Americans were drawing big ol’ blanks on names like Eat Static and Banco de Gaia, so to help their Planet Dog chums from across the Atlantic, Mammoth released this double-disc primer featuring the label’s biggest acts (re: those who’d released a full LP).

As such, CD1 of Transmissions From The Planet Dog is hopelessly redundant where my own collection is concerned. Essentially the Eat Static/Banco showcase, it borrows three tracks from Abduction, two from Implant, three from Maya, plus a remix of Qurna that was used in most live versions of the song anyway. They didn’t pluck the best Maya tracks either, and though I don’t have Eat Static’s Implant, the two tracks they have here didn’t inspire me to rush out for that record. But hey, if you need a cheat-sheet of both early careers, this CD does a decent job.

For my money though, the highlight is CD2, where Timeshard and Children Of The Bong get to strut their stuff. Granted, the same problem remains, in that if you already have the albums from which these tracks came from, it’s another wholly redundant collection of tunes. Hell, half of Timeshard’s debut album is on here! On the other hand, Children Of The Bong’s contributions are pretty rare for the three tracks you get, one coming from an early tape-only release, and another found on an obscure, non-Feed Your Head Planet Dog compilation.

Even so, considering both Timeshard and Children Of The Bong didn’t last much longer beyond the compilation, their back-catalog grew rather difficult to procure, making Transmissions From The Planet Dog one of the few places you could find their music anymore. And believe me, these guys are worth checking out if you fancy yourself the psychedelic side of electronic music. This is psy dub before the genre really had much demarcation or boundaries for itself, fearless in whatever sounds, instruments, and influences were thrown into the pie. Electro rhythms in acid-drenched Ionospheric State? Go for it! Epic sojourns of mystic lands across the shores of Space Goa? Crystal Oscillations got yo’ back! Ultra spliff haze as dubbed out in Symbol I? Groovy, man. Woozy acid-dub while jamming with Ravi and Jimi? Only with Oracle. Considering how polished psy dub turned after the millennium, it’s refreshing hearing some so deliciously crusty.

Various - Trance 2001: A Trance Odyssey

Hypnotic: 1995

Possibly the best compilation Hypnotic put out in their early years, and I’m not just saying that because of the pretty nebula on the cover. Okay, that’s part of the reason too, but I do have stronger reasons for this assessment. For one thing, it’s a Music Research tie-in, so aces already. However, Trance 2001: A Trance Odyssey is a tad different from all the other Hypnotic CDs peddling singles from Talla 2XCL’s label that could. This one mostly eschews the obvious tracks and classic German trance anthems of the day, delivering a collection of b-sides from the heavy hitters of Suck Me Plasma, all in service of the spaced-out, ‘eye on the future’ theme presented in the title’s concept. Or, y’know, I’m reading too much into this, the linking theme just a coincidence, and Trance 2001 was Hypnotic simply shoveling more licensed product out into stores as quickly as they could. Either wouldn’t surprise me but I’d like to give the benefit of the doubt in this situation. Hypnotic’s early material did have a sense of someone behind the desk giving a care.

As usual, many familiar names show up for Trance 2001: A Trance Odyssey: Komakino, Sunbeam, Aqualite, D-Lay, Cenobyte, Urban Trance Plant. Even if you know these acts though, odds are these tunes aren’t as recognizable compared to their main singles (refer to previous Music Research reviews). For instance, Komakino isn’t here as Komakino, but as Final Fantasy, though admittedly their most popular track under the alias in Controlling Transmission. And what a hum-dinger she be, by g’ar: blistering acid, vintage German piano riffs, gated choir pads, and tasty tck-tck-tck hi-hats. Aqualite’s moody Wavemaker was another modestly successful track, though not nearly as much as Outback. Same can be said for D-Lay’s peppy bleepy Desire, Sunbeam’s space pulp-adventure tune Energy, Cenobyte’s brisk, minimalist acid builder Tales From The A-Side, and Retroflex’s ultra-chipper happy hardcore Feel The Vibes. Wait, what’s happy hardcore doing in a trance compilation? Accommodating itself rather well, if I’m honest. I can’t believe it either.

In fact, there are a few happy hardcore acts here peddling the serious side of their muses. Overdog’s Cloudy has a nearly three-minute long building intro, going from ambient to chugging hard dance while maintaining a flowing trance vibe throughout. J’N’M Trax’ Human Inspirations features a great minor-key melody for such a simple boshing track, and Urban Trance Plant’s Ready To Flow is… um, well, has a pretty dope climax.

Finally, for you obscuritists out there, one-off act Spice & Dune finish Trance 2001 with another mint bit of high-octane space acid on Time Traveler. Only… it’s called Snapshot here. Why? Turns out “Spice”, or Patrick Wintter, worked in tandem with several producers, including one Mario Hammer as Snapshot, which Hypnotic must have erroneously tagged here. Those names seem familiar? They should, both going on to larger success as Hiver & Hammer. Such humble beginnings here for Mr. Hiver, closing out one of Hypnotic’s best CDs.

Various - Trance Traxx 2

Ouragan: 1995

The first trance compilation I owned, this one. Yeah, those Music Research showcases converted me, but for a year prior my allegiance to the trance camps wavered between the euro-dance armies. I definitely knew there was this neat genre out there, having also recently purchased albums from Dance 2 Trance and Jam & Spoon. Come to think of it, seeing a J&S cut on this CD was also an initial lure, the name ‘Jam El Mar’ quickly burning into my brain as someone to keep tabs on for dance tunes that tickled my earholes (B.G. Prince Of Rap hits helped bridge that gap). Super ‘90s CGI art didn’t hurt either.

As a proper foray to the world of trance, this was a decent introduction. The Jam & Spoon track on here is their twelve-minute classic anthem Follow Me, almost a microcosm of the various attributes the genre offered in its early years. It’s got the spacey, hypnotic start, the clap-along building middle, the big PLUR-gooey breakdown, and the blistering hard, acid race to the finish. Jam’s vintage sawwave synth pitch-bends are undoubtedly dated, but surely have achieved retro charm by now. Other ‘back-in-the-day’ highlights include Vernon’s chord-heavy Wonderer, Emmanual Top’s “black polished chrome” acid trip Turkish Bazar, and Atlantic Ocean’s spritely, bouncy Waterfall.

Wait, that last one’s house, isn’t it? You bet. In fact, the early portions of Trance Traxx 2 features a Crossover Part, highlighting tunes that kinda’-sorta’ fit the trance ethos, if not being the genre itself. This includes The Ethics’ La Luna (“beat of the drum, bang; beat of the drum, bang-bang!”), Nox Alba’s Mambo White (so Balearic!), and The O.T. Quartet’s Hold That Sucker Down (Builds Like A Skyscraper Mix). Yeah, this glorious slice of early Rollo at his Rolloiest could be considered trance, but folks were still calling this sound ‘anthem house’, or ‘progressive house’. Hey, whichever floats your boat.

The reason for such a section on this CD is Trance Traxx 2 offers itself as something of a minor-concept mix, with distinct parts fitting for a traditional journey set. There’s an Overture intro, which includes Suburban Knight’s The Art Of Stalking - yes, a Detroit techno guy opens a trance compilation! The middle path, titled The Awakening Part, goes through the various trance tunes Atoll Music was looking to peddle, while the final sprint christens itself as The Speed Part (it’s definitely that). Finally, a brief Ambient Outro featuring Moby’s Myopia, and a call-back to the intro to end off. Holy cow, even modern trance CDs don’t go that far with their concepts. Trance Traxx 2 must be mint, right?

Yeah, no. I’ve spotlighted all the good tunes, but the other half of this CD’s filled with generic toss-off and unremarkable no-namers (Klima? Speed Limit? Shape Shifter? DJ Eric?? Mobydic!?). And that ‘mix’ I mentioned? Barely existent, some tracks completely ending before the next begins. Trance Traxx 2 had so much potential, but is instead relegated to the bin of forgotten ‘90s CDs.

Various - Trance On Earth: European Electronic Dreams

Hypnotic: 1995

Cleopatra Records set itself as a purveyor of most things industrial and goth, raiding the lands of Europa in search of distribution deals for American shores. Among these labels was Zoth Ommog, one of the seminal prints of Germany’s EBM scene, which is all kinds of bizarre when you consider trance tastemaker Talla 2XLC founded the print as an early part of his larger Music Research empire. He kept the ravey stuff on different sub-labels though, which Cleopatra must have had equal access to thanks to the Zoth Ommog deal, hence their early stabs at the ‘trance compilation’ market. I assume it worked out reasonably well for them (Hell, I bought two!), enough to establish this spin-off print Hypnotic, where they could distribute all that ecstasy-driven club music without alienating their harder, morose followers of the cybernetic revolution. Or whatever it was the gothic EBM crowds identified themselves as in the early ‘90s.

I’m almost certain this is information I’ve discussed in previous reviews, but I bring it up again to put Trance On Earth: European Electronic Dreams into perspective, this little CD among the first in launching Hypnotic. Most of the earliest Hypnotic releases were album re-issues for the likes of Ynos (Komakino), Synaesthesia (Frontline Assembly/Delerium), and Norman (Terry Lee Brown, Jr.), but with so many acts on Suck Me Plasma only doing the EP deed, the label instead brought them over via a tsunami of trance and ambient compilations. If you think what I have in my collection is a bit much, check out the entire Hypnotic catalog from 1996 alone.

As one of the first Hypnotic trance compilations, Trance On Earth is also either one of the best, or one of the most redundant, depending on how many other Hypnotic CDs you have. The Suck Me Plasma pickings were plumb for these initial discs though, many big hits of German hard trance finding their way here. Sunbeam’s two breakout singles make the cut, and though I’ve got a whole LP of early Sunbeam, I’ve no problem hearing Outside World or High Adventure again. Komakino’s ultra-uplifting Feel The Melodee (Technoclub Mix) is also on here, as is another of those seminal ‘galloping choir pad’ trance anthems in Aqualite’s Outback. Really, Trance On Earth is primarily made up of such tunes, including D-Lay’s The Dreamer, plus one-offers Infusion Impulse’s Paralyser and Lesamis’ No More Worry, though only D-Lay’s tune holds its own against the aforementioned classics.

Filling out the hind-sighted ‘redundant’ portions of Trance On Earth are Semisphere’s acid-drenched Raveaktiv, Cenobyte’s sinister Destination, and D-Lay’s ultra PLUR-gooey Don’t Stop The Motion, all which appeared in some fashion on the latter 3CD Hypnotic release Musik Non Stop. The remaining stand-alone is closer Tuna from Norman, sounding more stripped back, minimalist, and groovy compared to all the hard trance on here. It’s almost as though Mr. Feller’s coming up with a fresh new genre, combining house and techno, a ‘garage-tek’ thing, if you will. Nah, that’ll never catch on.

Various - Now And Then: Music From The Motion Picture

Columbia: 1995

If it wasn’t clear that much of this current backlog was formally owned by a person of the double-X persuasion, this should all but confirm it. Now And Then was a movie fully intended for a female audience, an attempt at Stand By Me for all the mothers and daughters of America. Well, maybe not specifically intended as such by writer I. Marlene King, but it sure was marketed that way. Big mistake that, the movie critically panned for being a rehashed ‘feminist Stand By Me’. Ooh, couldn’t get away with such a derisive critique these days, even if there’s some truth in the matter.

But why shouldn’t there be such a movie? With so few generational, female-led vehicles out there, star Demi Moore felt strongly enough in the project to help fund it herself. If my own mother and sister are anything to go by, it certainly succeeded, Now And Then on constant rotation once the VHS came out. Who cares if the plot was paper thin, the storyline syrupy-sweet, and big-name actresses in Moore, Rosie O’Donnell, Melanie Griffith, and Rita Wilson barely appear - Now And Then was about the memories of times past, growing up in the early ‘70s. A total nostalgia trip for mothers, while bonding with their daughters as they related to the younger cast. And if I’m honest, I didn’t mind putting up with the movie either, what with Thora Birch and Christina Ricci as part of the cast. Don’t deny it, all my ‘90s bros, you did too.

Naturally, the only sort of music that could accompany such a film is the bubblegum pop and chart topping R&B of the era. Rolling Stone magazine and all its spiritual successors may have constantly gone on about the revolution of rock, continuously peddling the narrative of which bands were the Very Important Bands we should honor, respect, and study. All well and good, but it was stuff like The Archies’ Sugar, Sugar that the majority of people were playing on the radio at this time. The scene of the girls riding their bikes singing Tony Orlando’s Knock Three Times? My mum swears her childhood was exactly like that! The Monkees were perfectly willing fill-ins of moptop pop once The Beatles buried themselves in the studio. And hoo, let’s not forget Motown’s complete dominance of this era either: The Jackson 5, Stevie Wonder, Diana Ross, and Freda Payne – all mega-selling names most folks would enjoy over that ‘stoner’ rock the weird boys would listen to. Not that there’s a little room for rock in this soundtrack, Free’s All Right Now and Badfinger’s No Matter What finding their way in as well. It’s pretty safe-sounding stuff though, total AM radio material college students wouldn’t have any use for.

But then, the music for Now And Then wasn’t curated with me in mind. It’s a snapshot of what girls of the early ‘70s were playing, and we can’t fault it for that. Ricci growing into Rosie, however…

Big L - Lifestylez Ov Da Poor & Dangerous

Columbia: 1995

The story of Big L is one of so much promise, and so senselessly squandered by random acts of street violence. He may have been lost in a plethora of Eastcoast rappers carving out their fame in the ‘90s, but dropping what’s often cited as one of the underground hip-hop classics at a mere 20 years of age is nothing short of incredible. Think of all the heavy hitters of the era he was up against: Biggie, Wu-Tang, Nas, Mobb Deep, not to mention the emergent Jay-Z, DMX, Big Pun, and, um, Ma$e (plus probably a dozen more I’m neglecting an obligatory namedrop). It’s understandable that someone as lyrically raw as Lamont Coleman would fall through the cracks, another casualty of a major label bungling young careers. Whether he would have found a commercial breakthrough in the new millennium, or remain one of the underground’s champions remains one of the tantalizing “what ifs?” of hip-hop lore. Sadly it was not to be, Big L murdered in a drive-by before the age of 25.

I’d heard of the Brooklyn rapper when starting my dig through hip-hop, though mostly in passing reference. A shortened discography didn’t help matters, Lifestylez Ov Da Poor & Dangerous his only record released while still alive, while the posthumous The Big Picture (1974-1999) gathered material he’d been making for a second album. The latter offered us Ebonics, an incredibly clever track showcasing amazing lyricism that clued me in that I should be giving Big L some proper attention. Another factor was the live shout-out Gang Starr gave him as the very first track on their double-CD retrospective collection Full Clip: A Decade Of Gang Starr. The fact these legends would do such a thing on a release centered on their career suggested Big L was definitely an MC worthy of some stature. Finally, after a friend from out East came for a visit and kept insisting we play some Big L on a road trip, well, that just sealed the deal.

And playing through Lifestylez Ov Da Poor & Dangerous, yeah,I hear how this young MC put even Nas on notice. His topics are well-tread street rap, but nonetheless gripping as he spits his rhymes. Weaving tales of the ‘hood life, survival of the illest, gotta’ do what you gotta’ do to get through it all, all the while questioning why lesser MCs in the game are getting mad paid while talent such as his languishes in obscurity. Big L’s lyricism is spotless, vivid with his imagery, dynamic with his multi-syllabic rhymes (known as ‘compounding’ apparently; always learning something new!), riding beats with flow that’s fierce yet smooth. The music production is almost entirely that Eastcoast funk-n-jazz loop based stylee, mostly handled by his Diggin’ In The Crates Crew members Buckwild and Lord Finesse (you’ve heard their beats before, trust). It all reminds me of Del’s No Need For Alarm, hip-hop strictly for the underground heads, though with heavier Eastcoast grit and menace. Mint material, all this.

Various - Empire Records: The Soundtrack

A&M Records: 1995

A ‘90s movie centered on the exploits of a record store seemingly run by teenagers? Pft, pass. Hackers was my regrettable tackle at Gen-X culture, though if Empire Records’ soundtrack had focused on techno instead of alternative rock, maybe I’d have paid it attention. Look, my dedication to electronic music was unshakable, ain’t no way Teenage Sykonee would sway to the sounds his younger sister indulged in. Ooh, wait, sis’, can I borrow that Beastie Boys Ill Communication CD inexplicably in your collection? I need Sabotage for a mixtape.

No, I didn’t get this soundtrack from her (she did have it though). This comes from another lady of comparable age, and it seems several grown gals have a thing for Empire Records. It’s gotta’ be because of Liv Tyler on the cover, wearing that impossibly cute, navel-exposing blue fuzz sweater and plaid mini-skirt, holding back with authori-tah a rag-tag group of peers, co-workers, besties and frienemies. The Ethan Hawke-hot sensitive friend, the promiscuous blonde, the Pauly Shore quirky guy, the nihilistic authentic Gen-X philosopher, the kinda’ gothic depressive. Mmm… Robin Tunney, with or without shaved head…

I get the sense folks remember Empire Records for what they think the movie represents (alas, their youth!), rather than what actually happens in the movie. Because not a whole lot happens in the movie, and most of what does happen is so filled with stock teenage-lite comedy situations and tropes, you could plunk these characters and plot into any setting and it’d tell the same story. A video store, a restaurant, a civic centre, an arcade, wherever it is teenagers go for employed hang-outs now. The angle of a record store is wholly wasted, no one giving insight into the retail music industry or tunes they’re playing and supposedly enjoying. Not that it’s the fault of the scriptwriter or actors, Empire Records striking me as the sort of movie studio-meddled to make it as appealing to the broad teenage demographic as possible. Heck, the soundtrack probably wasn’t even finalized before shooting began, so how could there be any dialog regarding these Gen-X jams of the day?

Even the collection of tunes is lackluster as a cultural touchstone. Some notable markers do make the cut, like The Cranberries, Gin Blossoms, Better Than Ezra, and Toad The Wet Sprocket. Edwyn Collins’ A Girl Like You was a memorable hit at the time (so Bowie!), while it’s hard to forget the movie-climax performance of cast member Coyote Shivers’ Sugarhigh. With a surefire teen hit on their hands (*cough*), A&M Records hoped Empire Records would expose some of their obscure acts (Drill, Lustre, Ape Hangers, Innocence Mission). Much of it sounds like stock alternative rock, punk, and folk of the mid-’90s to my ears, with many of these bands not doing anything beyond the era (so sayeth The Discogs). But hey, nostalgia for even the blandest of ‘90s paraphernalia can get you vinyl reissues these days. Do they have the Liv Tyler ensemble at Hot Topic too?