Underworld - Second Toughest In The Infants

TVT Records: 1996

Also known as that album everyone bought expecting to find Born Slippy on. Then they were disappointed to discover Born Slippy wasn't on this album, and demand grew for the biggest single of Underworld's career be added. So they did, shuffling it off to a bonus disc in select countries like South Korea, Japan, and eventually as a re-issue in the band's native UK. Us folks here in the Americas, however, never got that bonus disc, forced to enjoy Born Slippy in its original EP format or as the opener of the Trainspotter soundtrack. And you know what, we're totally fine with that, yo'. If Underworld had intended Born Slippy as part of the Second Toughest In The Infants experience, they'd have included it as part of the original album package. It's not their fault they underestimated that track's massive appeal. Besides, there were other options to hear it anyway (including Top 40 radio!). Nay, best to take in this album as intended - we're tote's fine without that bonus CD here in North America, really!

Of course, once folks got past that Born Slippy exclusion, they realized Second Toughest In The Infants is a great piece of Underworld musicianship even without it. Dubnobasswithmyheadman was genre defining, but it mostly stuck to its proggy groove throughout; later, Beaucoup Fish settled for a mellower vibe, an LP fully intended for the home market whether folks wanted it or not. This second outing in the Emerson years finds the group venturing into scenes that would normally clash in the hands of others, yet melts together in a fashion only Underworld could make their own.

First though, that opener! The Juanita-Kiteless combo is already brilliant, and was rightfully the group’s killer start in all their late ‘90s tours. Weaving in a little extra acid action with To Dream Of Love only makes the first sixteen minutes of this album that much more mint, but I’ll never tire of those soaring synths, robot voices, or echoing guitar stabs. Why yes, this is my favourite piece of Underworld action, even over all the recognized classics.

And how do you follow one of the greatest starts to an album in your catalogue? By going jazzstep and trip-hop for another fifteen minute medley (Banstyle-Sappy’s Curry), of all things. Look, it was 1996, and those were the cool new genres to toy around with. Speaking of, how about them d’n’b crazy-crazy-crazy beats in Pearl’s Girl, eh? This just might be my second-favourite Underworld track, if you don’t include their remixes.

With so much awesome on Second Roughest Of The Chill’ins, it’s easy to forget the other solid tunes on offer. There’s some vintage Underworld cool-groove with Confusion The Waitress, more pummelling techno action with Rowla, a mellower techno outing with Air Towel, and something of a New Wave throwback in chill-out closer Stagger. It’s a well rounded album from a well-rounded group, and no excuses on your part to not be playing this right now.

Fugees - The Score

Columbia: 1996

Fugees’ The Score annoyed me to no end when it first came out. It was inescapable, everyone hyping the ever-loving Hell out of it, songs on hourly rotation blasting from radio airwaves and music video transmissions. Not to mention the nonstop requests at whatever teen dance, Christmas party, or wedding I was attending, when all I wanted to hear out was a little Dance Mix 96 instead. Okay, so I only heard Killing Me Softly, because it was among the most omnipresent singles of that year. That was enough to convince me The Score wasn’t worth my time though, as teenage ignorance is wont to do.

Slowly but surely I came around to the Fugees' multi-platinum selling sophomore effort (thanks, jungle remixes!). Killing Me Softly is what it is, a fine cover of a classic soul song that gave Lauryn Hill the spotlight on the album, Wyclef and Pras politely stepping aside for her moment to shine (save some hype man calls). What finally made me a fan, however, was the way she could command a hook so effortlessly.

Ready Or Not is the obvious one, but the strangely forgotten Fu-Gee-La is another winner, her rendition of the Teena Marie original worming its way inside your brain matter for long-term residence. Seriously, I listened to The Score about a week ago, and her Fu-Gee-La chorus is still randomly spinning in my head! It doesn’t hurt it’s got such a wicked bottom end, deep in the dub with a swaggering dancehall bounce. Why doesn’t anyone bring this song up anymore? It was the lead single, including a prominent sticker on the front proudly proclaiming it as the reason to buy The Score. It had two extra remixes added as bonus tracks, including one from dub reggae legends Sly & Robbie! Yet to this day, nadda and zilch is mentioned of it. Hell, I don’t even recall anyone talking up the track even when the album was new – even the goofy kung-fu Chinese restaurant skit prior to it got more play than Fu-Gee-La. Revive this song, yo’!

While the rest of The Score if often bypassed from the big tunes, that’d be a disservice to your ears. Yes, the Fugees were only ever modest MCs, but they rose to fame when gangsta tropes and New York City mafioso raps were the big hotness on the East Coast. In feeding off their influences of reggae, dancehall, soul, and the conscious end of hip-hop, they stood apart from all their contemporaries, offering an easy-going vibe for an increasingly aggressive scene. They could throw down when it came to battle skills (How Many Mics, The Score), though their focus was aimed more at inner-city strife, especially back in Wyclef’s native Haiti.

Speaking of Wyclef, just how brilliantly daft is some of his production here? Sampling Enya – freaking Enya! – for a hip-hop track and making it work is amazing in of itself. Still, I always knew Boadicea was a dope cut, if given right context.

Sacred System - Chapter One: Book Of Entrance (2015 Update)

Reachout International Records: 1996

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review)

Ah, nuts. There was some very crucial information that needed updating from my original TranceCritic review of this album. I've already wasted it in the review of Dub Chamber 3 though. I could have burned some word count with it, because regarding the music itself, there's not much else I can add to Book Of Entrance. Eh, what the heck, I'll just copy and paste it here. It's not like anyone remembers a Bill Laswell review from twenty-nine months ago. Woo, self-plagorization!

Dub Chamber 3 is one of his solo efforts though; or rather, him and whoever he invites over for a jam. Don’t bother looking for a Dub Chamber 1 or 2, as they don’t exist. This was, however, his third album released on Reachout International Records, the two prior being his Sacred System material. To confound discographers further, his fourth ROIR album was once again as Sacred System, but also titled Dub Chamber 4 (subtitled Book Of Exit, a nice call-back to the first album). And, that’s not even the end of his ROIR output, where he released a compilation of Sacred Dub System Chamber material, plus a collaboration project with Roots Tonic, not to mention- help! I’m being swallowed by Laswell’s discography! It’s so massive, it has a gravitational pull of its own!

*whew* Good thing I escaped it a second time!

But yes, I incorrectly titled this album way back when, in part because I figured Bill Laswell’s name was more important for referencing than the alias he used for Reachout. Also, everyone just calls Book Of Entrance a Laswell album because that’s what it is, but as Lord Discogs lists this as a Sacred System album, here it is correctly titled thus.

One other thing I feel needs clarifying from that old piece of writing is my claim that ‘bass-driven’ music isn’t terribly popular. Why, 2005 Sykonee must be an imbecile if he believes that. Just look at all the forms of bass music that dominates electronic music. Hell, even rhythmic reggae dub, from which Laswell is drawing influence from on Book Of Entrance, has a dedicated following of rastas and spliff heads. All true, but very seldom are those instances where bass leads through improvisation with everything else complementing. Even modern bass-heavy genres like trap and dubstep are about the effects those low frequencies have on your mind and body rather than guiding you through a musical journey. I doubt many festival goers would have time for the lengthy sessions Laswell indulges in. Hell, I sometimes don’t, and I actually like most of Bill’s material.

Finally, Book Of Entrance kicks off the huge block of music within my collection known as “Albums Beginning With ‘S’” – with a mislabel, of all things, heh. There are a few other mislabels, but even dismissing those, this could take me through the summer. And my reward for its completion? Taking on the equally massive section called “Albums Beginning With ‘T’”. The obsession must be satisfied!

Aphex Twin - Richard D. James Album (Original TC Review)

Warp Records: 1996

(2015 Update:
Oh God, there's such a glaring hole in this review, a critical piece of information I left out. Or forgot. Or didn't bother researching for some lazy reason. Richard D. James Album is officially the first album Richard D. James produced using soft-synths as his primary music hardware, which should be totally obvious by the tonal shift in these tracks. The tickity-tack sounds, cut-up rhythms, micro-sliced sampling, and braindance glitch is common for compositions by way of computer trickery, of which this album his filled with. His prior work, still on analog gear, is more straight-forward in their arrangements, though filled with their own sonic oddities because it's Aphex. Even if that distinction is obvious though, it's an important piece of RDJA's make-up, an essential piece of music journalism I neglected.

Speaking of, man does this review ever read like a stock 'music journalism' piece. I guess that's sorta' good, in that in TranceCritic's late run we were finally coming off polished and professional. Can't say I like reading it now though, much of it feeling functional while sandpapering personality off. Probably didn't like it much then either, at least on a subconscious level. Two year hiatus was nigh.)


IN BRIEF: Aphex-Pusher? Or Square-Twin?

After so many years of being an eccentric pioneer, the perpetually creepy-grinning Richard D. James suddenly was not. Rather, he started following the lead of another eccentric pioneer, Tom Jenkinson. Legend goes James was so impressed by then-unknown Jenkinson’s live show that he quickly signed him to his Rephlex label and released the first Squarepusher album. Then, James himself went and started making tracks with similar aesthetics, where frenetic jazz-fusion rhythms were thrown into a mixing bowl of real-world noises and samples for use in sound banks.

For the Aphex Twin moniker, this was quite new. Granted, there were dabblings here and there (most famously Didgeridoo), but James had carved out his name with gritty drill’n’bass beats, strange yet lovely ambient textures, and, most famously, unique sounds that only he seemed able to create –which is no surprise since the Cornwall native's hobby was gleefully dissecting and experimenting with equipment like some kind of evil vivisectionist. Why would a guy who made a career of sounding like no one else suddenly make music that potentially did (and would when others followed his and Squarepusher's lead)?

Well, aside from the aforementioned Jenkinson influence, fact of the matter was electronic music in general was in transition in the mid-90s, and James was no exception. As a part of the old guard of rave musicians and partiers, he, like so many others, found himself at a crossroad once the original rave scene finally crumbled into separate niches: either find a way to become highly successful in the music industry, or retreat the other way to satisfy the muse. If this album is anything to go by, his initial gut reaction was to retreat – let the other guys (Orbital, Prodigy, et al) have their mainstream. Ironically, the Aphex moniker too would see mainstream success, thanks in huge part to a series of Chris Cunningham videos, but that came later.

Back to the album at hand, it isn’t nearly as over-indulgent as you might expect from the likes of James. It is, however, somewhat jarring on first listen, if for no reason than opening track 4 has some of the tinniest, blunt percs offered from any Aphex Twin tune. Sure, the melody is charming enough, but where are those trademark big crunchy beats, eh? Not here, my friends, and nowhere on this album either. The early-90s Aphex Twin has moved on.

Fingerbib aside, the first half of Richard D. James is probably going to sound like a bunch of glitchy, abrasive, noisy nonsense for those uninitiated to IDM’s more screwy, intense drum programmers. Granted, we’ve had over a decade to get accustomed to such screwbars and nutballs (Venetians Snares, Bogdan Racyzinski, to just name-drop a couple we’ve already covered [at TranceCritic]), but way back in ye’ old 1996, this was some radical sounding stuff. Poor folks were coming into this album looking for more ambient bliss like Blue Calx or drill’n’bass delights like Come As You Mean To Go On, and instead get bizarre metallic clanging in Peek 8245yadayada or contortions of modem dial-up squawks in Carn Marth. You could still hear some of those old Aphex tropes littered about - the melodies James came up with, no matter how distorted or buried they got, still sounded great - but you had to give this album repeated listens to actually get it. Aphex Twin had always been a bit challenging in that regard, but he at least could be counted on cuts that you could easily digest in one sitting. Not so much here though.

Moving on to the second half in short time, James leaves behind most of the harsh sounds in favor of cute’n’cuddly silliness. Result: something far more accessible for those untrained IDM ears out there, and a good load of giddy adulation at the cleverness of it all from the rest. For instance, the brilliantly titled To Cure A Weakling Child splices together pieces of children singing along with infantile melodies (and, of course, intense clippity-cloppity skitter-beats), creating something that’s ridiculously twee, yet very disconcerting whenever James goes into a ‘drum solo’. Yellow Calx aside (which has more in common with older Aphex material due to the synthy backing melodies), Richard D. James wraps up on such silly charming sentiments, even going so far as to include a slide whistle in the final track. It does work wonderfully in a track like Girl/Boy Song, bringing nutty grins to your face in spite of the frenetic drum work, but is simply wacked in Logan Rock Witch, which seems to be James messing around with a bunch of left over samples.

Whatever the case, Richard D. James Album is definitely one of those Must Have releases for connoisseurs of IDM. Along with Squarepusher, it set a precedent for the future direction of this wildly eclectic genre, as several others began following suite and diving off the deep end with such experimental albums (unfortunately to ever-increasing patience-trying results).

For the rest, though, I can sense a little trepidation, especially considering the short running time (finishing out at just under thirty-three minutes). Frankly - and I know this point has been hotly contested over the years - this isn’t the best starting point for Aphex Twin material. Actually, I’m not even sure which album would be, but Richard D. James Album definitely is not it. Due to the very short running times of most of these tracks, the album comes across more like a collection of jingles than songs; great jingles, mind, but jingles nonetheless.

Unless you’re already well versed in IDM sample-skitter-step, I’d hold off on this album until you’ve already taken in one or two Aphex Twin releases. You will eventually enjoy Richard D. James - if not for the eccentric attributes, then for discovering the warmth underneath the eccentric attributes - but at least this way you’ll soften that initial “WTF?” blow to your ears.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2009. © All rights reserved.

Faithless - Reverence

Cheeky/Arista: 1996/1997

Given all that we’ve come to adore about Faithless, the wild genre hopping on their debut album doesn’t seem so daft anymore. Why of course they’d go from handbag house to gospel folk to trip-hop bop – it’s what they do! On the other hand, electronic music’s seen nearly two decades of deconstruction since, rendering Reverence more of a novel dip into uncharted dance waters than anything astoundingly shocking or ground-breaking. Come to think of it, it’s not like the album was that far removed from the liberal dance-fusion going on in the UK earlier in the ‘90s either. Tell me what Faithless had that groups like Stereo MC’s, 808 State, or Primal Scream didn’t have. Oh, right, those super epic house anthems. Okay, two things. Oh, right, a brilliant producer in Rollo. Okay, three- y’know what, forget it.

As the mid-'90s rolled on, Rollo and Sister Bliss were already a prominent tandem within UK clubland, but the duo felt they were capable of more than kicking out singles for amyl house heads. They also suspected the audiences that fist-pumped to their tunes on the weekend might enjoy a slower, relaxed vibe when chilling at home. And they be right, trip-hop gaining all sorts of critical and commercial traction at the time. No surprise that YOLO-Rollo and Madame Bliss would throw their hats into that lucrative pile, but they lucked out in landing a chill, conscious-leaning MC with an incredible amount of spiritual charisma. Wait, how is that lucky? Maxi Jazz' style of lyrical manifestation should have fallen flat on its face in an era of gangsta' boasting, yet punters quite enjoyed his laid-back words of wisdom and anecdotes.

Then there’s the other half of Faithless’ vocals, Jamie Catto. Most know him these days as Who’sThatNow?, but way back in the group’s formation, he was just as vital a component to the Faithless sound as your Maxis and Didos. He provided a husky, soulful croon that complemented Rollo and Bliss’ dalliances into R&B and gospel, making songs like Don’t Leave and Angelina all the more powerful for it. Wow, considering I was kinda’ blasé about his songs when I first played Reverence, I never thought I’d miss his presence in later Faithless albums. Guess it helps to grow an appreciation for music outside the easy ear-candy of plucky stadium house bangers like Salva Mea and Insomnia.

Was that the plan all along, woo in the clubbed-up caners with a pair of undeniable anthems, then drop serious music education on them when they buy the album? Mr. Armstrong and Ms. Bentovim never claimed as such, merely making the tunes that captured their interest (in less than a month, no less!) and letting the chips fall where they may. The duo sound just as surprised by Reverence’s two-fold success in interviews, though they must have suspected they had something unique going for them. The only fault with this LP I can make is Faithless had yet to realize their full potential.

Various - Psychedelic Goa Trance

Omnisonus: 1996

Debates raged throughout the ‘90s over what differentiated goa trance from psychedelic trance. Was it identifiable melodies that defined goa? Out-and-out twisted acid noises that marked psy? I suppose so, though I suspect the terms that were finally settled upon came about for convenience’s sake. Something had to eventually be made sense of it all, and with new sub-genres like full-on and prog-psy emerging at the turn of the millennium, it was easier to go back to the older tunes and start categorizing them by their unique attributes. I mean, what were we supposed to do at the time, rely on label marketers? They only made things worse!

Take, for instance, this CD that I just so totally by chance am reviewing right now, Psychedelic Goa Trance, brought to us by yet another French label, Omnisonus. This print was broader in its electronic music promotion, releasing everything from Basic Techno to Hypno Techno, plus the future sound of Paris (whatever that was) and hardcore music that'd give you a fever, apparently. I jest, of course, but mark my words there were plenty of doe-eyed ravers believing these were actual genre names. And here we have psychedelic goa trance. Not just simple ol' goa, nor cutting edge psy, but a mesh of the two, offered to us when terms and classifications were an increasing clusterfuck. And here was I, only just venturing into the world of trance, picking this CD up because it looked weird and had a whole bunch of names on the back I was unfamiliar with. Ah, those exciting days when every compilation was a mystery.

Yeah, this was my first introduction to goa, or psy (whichever). I can’t say it immediately won me over, so radically different from the hard German stuff I enjoyed, it was. I probably couldn’t have lucked on a better primer though, as it has a solid assortment of names and tunes to its credit. There’s the lengthy psychedelic stuff with Etnica’s Party Droid and Witchcraft’s Whale, trippy fun cuts care of Total Eclipse’s Free Lemonade and Kox Box’ Fuel On, high octane acid trance like Indoor’s Dubull Click and Karmic Energies’ Bonobo, serious shit like Prana’s The Earth and Karmic Energies’ Born To Be Wild, awesome noisy acid bedlam like Trans-Lucid’s Flying Reindeer and Karmic Energies’ Equal & Surpass, and total tribal nonsense like Karmatic 767’s Kalashakra. So overall a nice mix of recognizable and obscure tracks, though obviously overkill in jamming in all three tracks off Karmic Energies’ Equal & Surpass EP. Mighty suspicious, that.

Omnisonus would release a second volume of Psychedelic Goa Trance the following year, which included recognizable names like The Delta, Technossomy, Man Made Man, and Tristan – also, two more Karmic Energies cuts (geez, Charles Rapeneau only ever released two singles under the alias). It doesn’t look as remarkable as the first compilation though, and even this one likely won’t impress seasoned goa veterans. Whatever, I still get a kick out it!

Type O Negative - October Rust

Attic: 1996

Though I was a teenage ‘technoboy’ through and through (with a smidge of the hip-hop), somehow Type O Negative’s October Rust found its way into my early CD collection. Was it peer pressure from metal associates? A chance at impressing the sexy goth chick in Drama class? Raging hormones after seeing the video for My Girlfriend’s Girlfriend? Nah, none of the above. As is so often the case with teenage boys of the mid-‘90s, it all comes back to Mortal Kombat. Type O Negative was one of the featured metal bands on the movie’s soundtrack (despite the song not even being in the flick), one of the cooler offerings of the genre I found there. Then, while working a music shop, I noticed October Rust had come out, throwing it on out of curiosity. And wow, this is some neat sounding metal. Atmospheric, catchy, varied – all things I sought in music. Sure, I’ll get this for myself, and hey, maybe some of the perks mentioned above would play out (they didn’t).

Type O Negative had some crossover success in the ‘90s, a decade where they only could have done so. While goth culture’s existed before and since, a romanticism with paganism and Wiccan religion had its closest brush with mainstream popularity at the time (thanks, The Craft!), and with dreary themes and Peter Steele’s gravelly drawl, Type O filled the role remarkably well. Hell, even the title of this album, October Rust, instantly brings to mind forests littered with red and brown leaves in bitter, cold autumn evenings. Beyond that, you have song titles like Be My Druidess, In Praise Of Bacchus (not a pagan god, but connected to ritualized hedonism just the same), Wolf Moon, and Haunted. Ooo, creepy stuff.

While I don’t buy into these themes much more than a passing indulgence, I definitely can get behind Type O’s music making. Wolf Moon features a simply awesome, spine-chilling build and explosive riff, greatly enhanced by Josh Silver’s backing keyboards – makes me want to strip naked and run through the woods under a full moon with my own ‘druidess’. Elsewhere, Red Water (Christmas Mourning) has to be one of the bleakest holiday jaunts around, a sludgy dirge with great droney guitar distortion and haunting synth work.

The band wasn’t all doom and gloom though, quite willing to show a fun side as well. The aforementioned My Girlfriend’s Girlfriend harkens back to good ol’ ‘60s psychedelic boogie, including a keyboard refrain that’d have Ray Manzarek bobbin’ his head. Along the same vibe, they cover Neil Young’s Cinnamon Girl, because of course these guys would be influenced by ol’ Rustie. Following that is one of their daftest tunes ever, The Glorious Liberation Of The People's Technocratic Republic Of Vinnland By The Combined Forces Of The United Territories Of Europa, an interlude sounding like a metal victory parade of Prussian forces in the modern era, complete with airplanes, tanks, crowds, and whatever else Pink Floyd might have included in The Wall. Glorious indeed.

Sasha & John Digweed - Northern Exposure

Ultra Records: 1996/1997

While not the daftest idea for a mix CD, it certainly was unprecedented at the time. Starting an off club-night in the north lands of England featuring the chiller side of dance music was all fine and dandy, but getting a promotional tie-in release fronted by the emergent Ministry Of Sound was just ludicrous. Unless, of course, it's Sasha and f'n Digweed running the night, the hottest DJing duo in UK. Well shit, son, give the boys what they need (studio time, record rights, and that), and watch the money roll into the coffers!

Though the impetus for Northern Exposure coming into being's now relegated to a mere footnote, the impact the series had on purveyors of progressive house has not, many citing this CD as one of the all time greats. Listening to it nearly two decades since it dropped, it can come off a bit dated and quaint in terms of genre (so many ethnic chants), but in offering sublime musical moments, Northern Exposure remains top grade.

A major reason for this is Sasha & Diggers weren’t making a traditional DJ set; rather, Northern Exposure opts for the mixtape route, showing off older tracks that’d likely never get a live rinse-out. Really, that was the premise behind the club-night too, but since few even knew of it (I don’t think it lasted long), most folks figured this was Sash-el-‘Weed getting all conceptual and shit in a growing mix CD market. Like, whoa, The Future Sound of London, Rabbit In The Moon, and Banco de Gaia all on one disc? What is this, another ‘ambient house’ collection? Nah, guy, it’s a future-classic DJ mix, is what.

Truth is, ambient house/techno/dub/beat compilations were about the only places you’d find such names on a non-album CD, the market for chill-out mixes almost non-existent in the mid-‘90s. To have tunes like Cascade, Raincry, and Water From A Vine Leaf (Xylem Flow Mix) as part of a flowing DJ set was rare, and primarily the domain of deep underground releases (likely bootleg tapes at that). The Sash’Weed pedigree opened many a younger listener’s ears to a field of electronic music you just wouldn’t find on the mainstream market, and that ‘first exposure’ experience helped cement Northern Exposure’s classic status. It didn’t hurt Misters Coe and Digweed’s selection and arrangement of tracks here was impeccable. The Raincry-into-Out Of Body Experience portion’s long considered the highlight of the whole series, though Northern Exposure: Expeditions has one up for consideration too.

As for CD2, well... I don’t have it. Hell, I haven’t even heard it, despite a stream being easily found on the interwebs (I savour its mystique). Ultra Records, who handled the American distribution of Northern Exposure, continuously fumbled these mixes, their first erroneous behaviour the removal of 0°/South from this release. Maybe it was label rights complications, but I see little on that disc that couldn’t be solved with an edit or two. Maybe they felt having ‘south’ in the title defeated the concept?

Bandulu - Cornerstone

Blanco Y Negro: 1996

Way back when, I figured I'd never find a Bandulu album. They seemed so distant, a part of a young, fertile UK techno scene hiding in the underground, gaining plenty of props from the press, but absolutely no support from major labels. What chance, then, could Teenage Sykonee have in stumbling upon an album from this intriguing dub-tribal-techno act on the other side of the world? In our regular shops, none chance I say, and certainly nothing even hinting at an affordable non-import price. These days though, it ain't no th'ang to pop on the Amazons, do a quick search, and see what comes up. This shit's getting too easy, nearly whatever my youthful desires may be but a few simple clicks away, all at reasonable prices. All the allure, mystique and that, turned into a mere passing phase of intrigue rather than a lingering impression.

I wonder, had I found Cornerstone sitting forgotten in a used CD shop in a trendy neighbourhood, how different my response to this album would be. This is Bandulu on the downswing from their early seminal work, going deeper into minimal techno and experimental dub. Most of these tracks are cool enough, a fair bit of variety between each cut. There’s reggae nods with Selah and Folly, Detroit funk in Deep Sea Angler, uptempo bangers like Weak Heart, loopy head-nodders like Trinity, pure dub experiments like Parasight and Protocols, and plenty more that run the gamut between them all. For such a limiting sonic palette, Cornerstone does offer plenty of diversity throughout.

And yet, as an album, Cornerstone’s just too tracky. Mind, it’s a complaint of many techno LPs, ones even today’s scene continuously suffers from - I’m looking at you, Ostgut Ton. I realize the mid-‘90s was when techno felt the need to go minimal, distancing itself from the raving sensibilities and song-craft that carried the genre earlier that decade, but it makes for frustrating albums if you’re after more than a dozen tools for a rinse-out. Bandulu probably realized this, mostly sticking with vinyl releases on their own short-lived Foundation Sound Works print afterwards. Still, I’ve no doubt the brisk reggae-dub techno vibes of Running Time or spacious soundscapes of Sting would sound great in live settings. Hell, Shroud and Jester would get all the plaudits if it were a name like Shed attached to them rather than an old-school UK techno act with rave roots.

That all said, the Bandulu name does carry enough pedigree and class that any of their albums are worth a look-listen. They were doing the dub-techno thing as early as Basic Channel ever were, and rode minimal’s early waves just as capably as your Jeff Mills or Robert Hoods did – don’t count these guys out because their albums are easier to find through the Amazons or Lord Discogs Marketplace, eh? Guidance is obviously their Most Important Album, but Cornerstone’s collection of dub-techno cuts should entice fans of this sound into seeking this LP out too.

Ghostface Killah - Ironman

Epic Street: 1996

As a fan of the Wu-Tang Clan, grabbing a copy of this album obviously took far too long on my part. Isn't it my dutiful obligation to own every one of the group's first-run solo CDs? Yep, though in Ghostface's case, his first didn't leave a strong initial impression. For instance, is the cover intended to come off like some tacky shoe advertisement? Or are they in the process of pushing Wu-Ware along with Ironman? Another thing that turned me off was the lead single Daytona 500. Honestly, I can't remember how the song goes, even having just listened to it, but I thought the Speed Racer video for it was kinda' gimmicky. Still, I should know better than to let a lead single dictate a whole album. On the other hand, Cappadonna's on this a whole bunch, isn't he? I dunno, too many of his verses are so weak compared to the other Wu, I don't think I could handle a whole LP with him chiming in. Wait, Winter Warz is on this? Holy shit, son, Cap' spits pure fire on that cut!

Okay, the main reason was I couldn't figure Ironman living up the lofty peaks Ghostface had climbed with Supreme Clientele and Fishscale. And to be blunt, he doesn't here. Then again, Ghost was just at the start of what would be an impeccable solo career – testing the waters of where he could go, but still within the coddling embrace of his Clan and RZA's musical influence. For sure, Ironman's filled with plenty of those classic Wu, twitchy funk 'n' soul loops coupled with impeccable drum programming. In a way, this album marked something of an end of RZA's original style, the need for musical progression undoubtedly on his mind with Wu-Tang Forever just around the corner. He certainly indulges himself with a number of post-verse loops on a few tracks here, more so than most other solo-Wu albums. It's rather surprising Ghostface was fine with his producer stealing the spotlight like that. Ooh, conspiracy theory for Mr. Coles' ongoing distancing from the Wu as the years wore on!

Saying that, few knew what Ghostface's 'persona' was at this point enough to carry a whole album, beyond yet another ultra-talented MC in the Clan. Method Man was the rugged, uber-charasmatic one, ODB was ODB, GZA was the wise elder, and Raekwon established himself as a successor to Scarface (both gangster and rapper). Mr. Killah definitely proved himself a worthy back-up in those cases, almost part-and-parcel to Rae's image (Chef being the smooth operator, Ghost being the trigger-happy side-man). On Ironman though, Tony Starks plays the role of street storyteller, hype-man for his posse, and a lady's man who loves his mamma, but has absolutely no respect for them ho’s. Standard concepts as far as gangsta rap was concerned, and still deep within the Clan's fold, not the most efficient way to differentiate yourself from so many magnetic personalities. It'd take one more album to get there.

Various - Musik Non Stop

Hypnotic: 1996

Criminey blimey, gov', is this one dodgy collection. You’d think a 3CD set of Music Research material as licensed out by Hypnotic would have me all squee, but even I must raise an eyebrow over how this one was put together. Between Hypnotic and Cleopatra before it, I’ve gathered a decent amount of music from Talla 2XLC’s pioneering label. Some compilations were great, some not as much, yet you could at least count on original material with each release those first few years. That well of German trance had to run dry eventually though (especially with Talla shutting doors), and repeat tracks became increasingly common on Hypnotic compilations. At the same time, there must have been plenty of leftovers, tunes that just couldn’t fit on Trance Europe, Trance On Earth, Trance 2001: A Trance Odyssey, or European Future Soundz (Excursion In Trance). What better way to clear out that Music Research backlog than a 3CD extravaganza!

Normally I’d break this review up into at least two separate ones, as my self-imposed word count often interferes with coverage of so much music. What’s the point, though? CD1 alone has six tracks I’ve either already talked about, or will down the line. The other two discs have more unreleased cuts through Hypnotic, but are easily summed up – it’s small wonder some of these never got a release until this collection.

But hey, three discs for the price of one was still a good deal back in the ‘90s, and at least you were getting something of a primer into Music Research’s catalogue, despite not being the cream of their crop. CD1 mostly handles the trance, including Komakino, Reel X, Cenobyte, Sunbeam, and a pile of Norman Feller, who steals the show with the one-off collaboration with pre-Timewriter Jean Cochois as Lesamis. Eternal Sleep’s a wonderful slice of riffy, floaty early trance, and it’s a shame these two didn’t collaborate more if they were making music like this. Ah well, that whole ‘tech-house’ thing they later spearheaded turned out alright too.

With a skip to CD3, we get treated to names like Aqualite, Audio Science, more Norman, Pascal F.E.O.S., and Beyond Reality’s Semi-Analogue. This is also the techno CD, or rather German trance guys doing Detroit techno. It’s not as interesting as it sounds, though Blitz! from Audio Science is a cool tune, because of course it is.

CD2’s where most of the fun’s found, hardcore beats and acid running rampant. There’s also copious cheese here too, some of the ridiculous cornball kind (Happy Ravers’ Hubert), others of the unabashedly gurning type (D-Lay’s Don’t Stop The Motion (E-Motion Mix)). Rolling pianos, cheeky phrases (“Hi, I hope you’re enjoying your trip.”), multi-tap delay pads, bells, and that’s just Urban Trance Plant. There’s even a chill Balearic cut opening the tracklist. CD2’s definitely worth the price of admission into Musik Non Stop if you’ve an ear for candy-coated acid rave of the mid-‘90s, and hey, there’s a few good tunes on the other discs too.

Soundgarden - Down On The Upside

A & M Records: 1996

I could have skipped all these rock albums. I’m not required to review them, no overhead demanding I write about this or that. Plus, isn’t it self-defeating and counter-productive that a blog dedicated to electronic music deviates from its target field so wildly? Yes it is, but as my personal collection of music contains barely one-tenth rock, an occasional divergence into Neil Young or Yes wouldn’t hurt my overall scope. Doing so set a precedent though, and now I’m obligated to cover bands like Tool, The Offspring (soon), and Filter (way later), lest I turn hypocritical in providing preferential exposure to any music. Damn it, Ish’, why couldn’t you have discovered electronic music earlier in your life?

2014 Ishkur: You wanted the CD tower; you get my old CDs.

Right. Man, maybe I should get shelves next time. With this sort of luck, the next chap I get a tower off of will be a jazz enthusiast.

Anyhow, Soundgarden. They were a very important band coming out of the Seattle grunge scene. Many fans of the era place them on equal footing with the Big Two (Nirvana and Pearl Jam), despite not breaking through until 1994's Superunknown. Makes sense it took that long, as their first couple albums found them playing traditional forms of hard rock (punk, metal) as their Washington State peers were defining a genre and generation (however unintentional it was). That background led to a darker tone in Soundgarden’s music, Black Sabbath often getting name-dropped in comparisons. In all, it helped identify Soundgarden as a unique offering to grunge's legacy even as the scene was increasingly drowning in copycats.

The band also followed suit with other early grunge bands in quickly moving on from the genre before it grew too stale. Down On The Upside, their final album before taking a decade-plus hiatus, isn’t so heavy on angst and bleak Gen-X existence as their prior work, instead trying their hand at other forms of rock. They still allow for a couple ‘traditional’ grunge cuts like Blow Up The Outside World, but by ’96 the whole “quiet verse, loud chorus” arrangement was in serious parody mode, and I’ve no doubt Soundgarden were fully aware of it. No, ‘tis better to let inspiration and creativity flow rather than fall back on what fans undoubtedly expected of them.

And so they did. In tracks like Rhinosaur, Ty Cobb, No Attention, and Never The Machine Forever, they sound like the Led Zeppelin inspired band they were always likened to; other times they let their acoustic (Dusty, Zero Chance, Burden In My Hand) or blues (Boot Camp) interests dominate. They also experimented with odd time signatures and alternative tunings, because Wikipedia tells me so. Clearly, it’s nothing so overt that it detracts from the songcraft, unlike other hard rock bands of the time.

Down On The Upside’s a solid album, for sure. Can’t say I’ll ever listen to it again though. I’ve had my fill from alternative rock radio stations.

Tool - Ænima

Zoo Entertainment: 1996

Coming into Tool raw is well-nigh impossible, preconceived notions formed well before ever hearing the first rumble of Danny Carey’s drum kit, sludgy distortion of Adam Jones’ guitar, or billowing self-pity of Maynard James Keenan. Dammit, see what I mean? Without playing a single Tool song, I already know of the band’s tendency towards the musically proficient and lyrically po-faced bollocks, information gleaned through peer osmosis. For during their two-decade career, a reverent fanbase developed, one that wastes no time in preaching the Tool-Gospel of the band’s brilliance, and vehemently attacking anyone that presents such dissenting opinions like Tool are just okay, or not the brilliant song-writers legend purports. Thank God I’m way out here in the internet hinterlands, eh?

I figured there’d be some chance I’d like Tool if I gave them a chance, what with being known as ‘prog-metal’ pioneers and all. Well hey, I do like some prog (house or rock) and metal has its moments of awesome too. After giving Ænima three solid chances at winning me over, however, it’s safe to say I’ll never willingly listen to this band again. There’s simply too much nothing going on in this music for me to invest further.

Wait, that’s not accurate. The first half of Ænima contains several enjoyable heavy rock moments. Stinkfist’s hook has great thrashy bits, Eulogy’s even better and builds wonderfully from a quiet start to raucous climax, while Forty Six & 2 and Hooker With A Penis hold my attention with neat sounding guitar tones and drumming. Beyond that though, songs endlessly sludge along with staid musical passages, show-off bridges, and angst-ridden sentiments I grew out of ages ago (if I had them to begin with). The titular cut and a couple skits aside (mmm, ‘Satan’s Balls’…), the back half of Ænima drags with hardly any payoff. A perfect example comes in Pushit, where the band briefly switches to an urgent time-signature, suggesting an oncoming awesome build of tear-out metal; instead, they instantly retreat to a dithering quiet bit that goes on forever. Meanwhile, my thoughts wander to better metal and prog-rock like Pantera or Yes.

What caught me most off-guard though, was how grunge these tunes are – quiet, mumbly singing followed by loud shouting parts (and always unintelligible, buried in the mix). Granted, it’s due to Tool’s reputation as a metal band, but learning of their grunge roots, I totally get their appeal now. All those Holden Caulfields of the ‘90s alternative rock scene, desperate for heavy music that wasn’t so commercial and phony, found kinship in Keenan’s outlook, with challenging music to match. Throw in sound experiments cribbed from the industrial scene and weird, creepy visual accompaniments in videos and tours, and you’ve a grunge album unlike any other before, one that tried taking the genre down daring, new (progressive?) roads. A bold move on Tool’s part, for sure, one they could have pulled off on Ænima, if they’d spent more time on song-craft than technical masturbation.

Doc Scott - Lost In Drum N' Bass

DMC Publishing Ltd.: 1996/1998

Amazingly, you can DJ various sub-genres of drum n’ bass in a given set. It’s rare, as most jungle micro-scenes prefer sticking to their chosen sound through and through. Occasionally though, a set offers a broader range of what one might find in the wide sonic world of 'deebee'; even rarer, one that showcases damn near everything.

Right, compared to the branches that scene splintered into at the turn of the millennium, there wasn’t much ‘everything’ in jungle by the mid-‘90s. I maintain it’s mighty impressive of early ‘ardcore veteran Doc Scott to pull together what was out there on Lost In Drum N’ Bass. Originally titled Breakbeat Experiments and released as part of Mixmag’s tape order-in promotional series Mixmag Live!, it found a re-issue in CD form shortly after. This wasn’t surprising, as Mixmag Live! did this for several tapes. Finding proper American distribution, however, hardly occurred, and when they did, it was primarily due to an American name on the cover (Moby, Hawtin, Derrick Carter, etc). Guess Moonshine, who oversaw DMC’s promotion here, figured those were the only selling names in our market. Oh ye’ of little faith, Moonshine.

By 1996, and the darkside of jungle old began waning, the stripped-down sound of tech-step the new hotness. Meanwhile, atmospheric jungle and jazzstep were gaining critical plaudits, but clearly miles away in tone and approach from the aggressive basslines of Technical Itch Studios. Not so, says Doc Scott, bringing the polar opposites of the drum ‘n’ bass scene together in fine fashion.

After opening with the jazzy atmospherics of Jonny L and Krust, we’re treated to the smooth-as-silk Lemon D. Remix of Art Of Noise’s Eye Of The Needle. Yes, that Art Of Noise, odd-ball ‘80s synth-poppers galore. Apparently there was a drum ‘n’ bass remix album of the band’s material released that year, which just goes to show how much the scene was making waves in the UK.

After all that pleasantness, Mr. McIlroy (!) brings out the harder stuff, including Dillinja’s bassbin demolishing Threshold (how many times have I said that about Dillinja?) and Adam F’s Metropolis, it no slouch in offering the rough business. A bit more of the dark stuff follows with Scott’s own Shadow Boxing (as Nasty Habits), then we’re back to jazzy, atmospheric d’n’b again. Yep, instead of continually piling on the aggressive sounds, Doc instead opts for a long ease out. How long? The first track of the final stretch is Krust’s Brief Encounter (12 Minutes), and there’s still four more tracks after that of similar ilk, Decoder’s jump-up Circuit Breaker the only surprising detour among Omni Trio and Jonny L (again).

I won’t deny being disappointed in Lost In Drum N’ Bass when I first heard it, but that’s because I was young, dumb, and only interested in the dark and hard (...wait). Of course, I appreciate Doc Scott’s offering far more now, for its uniqueness as a d’n’b mix CD along as a strong collection of tunes of the era.

Banco de Gaia - Live At Glastonbury

Mammoth Records: 1996

Much better. Much, much better! Maybe it's the Glastonbury vibe capturing these acts at their best; they sure were the strongest recordings from The Orb's live compilation (hard to call Live 93 a proper album). So if you're a young EDM chap thinking of releasing a live album, better make it a gig from the famous British festival.

Truth be told, I was incredibly hesitant to pick this up at first glance. It’d only been a few months since I’d bought Banco de Gaia’s first two CDs, thus I was still in that ‘eh, not as good as I hoped’ mindset regarding Last Train To Lhasa. Now here’s another CD containing most of Lhasa, plus Mafich Arabi and Heliopolis, another pair of tunes I was lukewarm over as heard on Maya (I was dead-set on believing Toby Marks produced worldly ambient dub and nothing but). Still, what’s that last track, Data Inadequate? Never heard that one on either album, nor was it on the Ambient Dub series. Is it a new song? Nah, probably some live dialog; maybe a corny joke that the show’s over, therefore has inadequate data to carry on. Yeah, that’s it.

Anyhow, I bought Live At Glastonbury regardless, because that’s what you do when you find a new musical love. And sure enough, once the CD played through, my hesitations over its merits quickly dissipated. The crowd’s properly present, their cheers never overwhelming the music while placing you among the mass. A few technical hiccups with the opener Last Train To Lhasa aside, the sound’s clear and full, with enough open air resonance giving the tracks fresh vitality. Mafich Arabi’s funky drum work is essentially unchanged from its album counterpart, but is far more vibrant and energetic with all that extra, delicious bass reverberating off open spaces.

Even better, some of these tunes have been reworked to serve the party environment of Glastonbury. Marks adds layers of cacophonous rhythms and acid squelches to the start of White Paint, turning a formerly sombre piece of music into a raucous build. 887 gets double-timed beats along with funky “whoop whoop” drops, and Kincajou... is actually rather mellow, despite a pumping rhythm kicking throughout. Heh, not like I’d expect another half-hour ambient excursion of the tune at Glastonbury; The Orb, sure.

As for that final cut, Data Inadequate, hot damn, where did this come from? Right, Marks’ first tape-only album Medium, and the old-school vibes are clear as day, all sci-fi space opera synths and chugging UK acid house beats. Its light years away from the typical Banco world beat sound, and a wonderful way to cap off an already fun CD.

Live At Glastonbury may only hold interest for fans of Toby Marks’ project, but for my money (and maybe yours!), it’s also an excellent example of how to do a live album right. Great sound recording, unique variations of tracks, and even a few surprises thrown in: what more could you ask for?

Enigma - Le Roi Est Mort, Vive Le Roi!

Virgin: 1996

Enigma had beaten the sophomore slump on The Cross Of Changes, thanks in large part to songs you couldn't escape anywhere you went. In fact, I suspect it may have been overkill on the casual listener's part, as by the mid-'90s, interest in world-beat pop had significantly dwindled. What, another ethnic chant coupled with Shakuhachi flutes and dated breakbeats? Fah, who's got time for that when 'girl with acoustic guitar' is all the hotness now (then). Michael Cretu, crafty producer he is, also recognized the need to keep his project evolving. Thus his third album, Le Roi Est Mort, Vive Le Roi!, was promoted as a marriage of his two previous Enigma works. Hey, now I get that title! It's, like, proclaiming old Enigma is dead, but here's new Enigma to lead the way. Deep, man.

Unfortunately, the album itself failed to generate much buzz beyond the lead single Beyond The Invisible, itself memorable mostly for the odd video. I mean, really, what’s going on here: Lola be running to the woods, where a figure-skating competition is being judged by steampunk cenobites (those oddballs on the cover) while tree sprites watch. It’s actually not a bad tune, though clearly a step below such hits as Age Of Loneliness and Sadeness, Part 1 - T.N.T. For The Brain comes close though. I guess if you’ve never cared about Cretu’s vocals, it wouldn’t grab you either. Tough beans if that’s the case, as he sings quite a bit for this album.

In fact, the more there are vocals on Le Roi Is Morty, Live The King!, the less interesting the album is. I appreciate the effort Mr. Cretu puts into his singing, as you can tell he’s giving his limited range all that he can offer (with a little studio boost too), but the tracks he leads on have almost always been the weakest cuts on his albums. His wife, Sandra, adds so much scintillating depth to admittedly daft New Age lyrics, and it’s a shame she doesn’t get more to do this time out.

Musically, The King Is Dead; Oops, He’s A Zombie! is softer than the previous two. Morphing Thru Time lazily coasts, Shadows In Silence floats on tranquil oceans, Almost Full Moon blissfully rocks back and forth in a dreamy daze, and Prism Of Life... well, would likely go good around a campfire. Even the upbeat tunes aren’t as driving in their rhythms as older Enigma, The Roundabout about the closest thing coming to a proper club cut.

LREM,VLR! is a better album than most gave it credit for back in the day, but has the feeling of an ambitious theme that never quite gels. Some trimming of the sappier moments like Why!... (oh God, Cretu just can’t sing here) and The Child In Us (oof, what platitudes) would have helped. If anything, the instrumentals are gorgeous, and worth checking the album out if you’ve been a fence sitter for all this time.

2 Unlimited - Jump For Joy (BioMetal, Part 3)

Popular Records: 1996

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.)

“Dammit, Anita, what’s its weakness?”

“I… I…” The HALBRED’s scanner still drew blank, unable to identify the cloud of spores. “I don’t know,” she stammered, shaking her head. “Try the rockets.”

“I already have,” Ray shouted in her head. Why’d he have to keep shouting? Was he cracking under the pressure? What hope did they have if he couldn’t hold it together? “They pass through these blasted clouds. No effect at all.”

The HALBRED’s shields had held against the attack, but drained the ship’s auxiliary power fast. If she couldn’t find a way to defeat the spores, they’d overwhelm them, doing who knew what in the process. Maybe there wasn’t a way. Maybe the BioMetals had developed technology they weren’t prepared for. Maybe this was nothing but a fool’s mission, with no hope-

“The source!” she suddenly shouted. “Ray, punch it forward.”

“What? But-“

“Go! And get the main cannon ready.”

The HALBRED emerged from the hidden alcove, and instantly the spore cloud enveloped the ship, tiny balls of synthetic and organic matter attacking the shield spheres tightly orbiting them. Anita drew up another life-sign scan of the cavern ahead. Her first had yielded no BioMetals before, but then it wouldn’t if it was only scanning for familiar forms – frigates, humanoids, even insect types.

“Where am I going?” Ray asked.

“Forward. I’ll let you know when to fire.” With a sharp thrust, the HALBRED plowed into the cloud, carving a wake of yellow spores.

Anita recalibrated her scanner to pick up combinations signs of chitin and cellulose, and immediately her sensors flared red. No surprise the spores surrounding their ship would be filled with them, but she hoped her scanner could pin-point a concentrated area. Within moments, she spotted it, her eyes lighting up as an excited, “Yes!” escaped her mouth, nearly jumping for joy in the process.

“Here,” she said, punching coordinates into the HALBREDs computer. “Fire at this spot and don’t stop until the banks are dry!”

“But there’s nothing-“

“Do it! We’re almost out of shield power!”

A concentrated blast of white-hot energy erupted from the HALBRED’s main cannon. Though neither could see the target, Anita was certain it struck against a wall where three large polyps the size of their ship rested. An explosion rocked the cavern, the cloud of spores falling gently to the surface below soon after.

Anita couldn’t help but smile when she heard Ray’s bewildered request for an explanation. “All these spores were acting independent, yet together,” she explained. “Sort of like fungal communities. I figured they had to be controlled from a central source, but since we’ve never encountered BioMetals of such origin, the ship didn’t recognize them.”

“Huh. Well, let’s hope we don’t encounter any more of these things,” he gruffed.

Not even a ‘good job’, Anita sighed, but she wasn’t surprised either. If the BioMetals had evolved to adapt plant and fungal based organisms too, there was no telling what their deadly potential could be, especially ahead of them.


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

BT - 今 Ima

Reprise Records: 1996

Ha ha, neener neener! For once, those of us on the west side of the Atlantic got a superior version of a major electronic album. Suffer, all you Europeans, with your single-CD version of BT's debut album Ima, and bask in our glorious 2CD edition. Not only does this re-release contain all the original's tracks and the Sasha mini-mix, but also extra remixes, b-sides, and that Tori Amos collaboration everyone over here went monkey-poop over. Yes, yes, I feel that envy, that glorious- huh? What do you mean you can simply order it online? What is this, man – like, the future? Why am I talking like it's 1996, duuddee?

Seriously though, Ima's an album that is hopelessly dated to the era it came from. Hell, some of it sounded dated even by mid-'90s standards, with 'Balearic' sounds that 808 State left to the bin years prior. Meanwhile, whatever the heck ‘epic house’ was, it only lasted for that brief period of time, producers soon moving onto other forms of prog as the new hotness (gotta keep progressin’, after all). So while Ima had quite a bit going for it when it came out, if you’re one of those cats that can’t stand anything firmly rooted in the ‘90s, you may want to stay away.

Oh, you’re still here? Ah, I get it. You discovered BT long after this came out, and all his long-time fans proclaim Ima as Mr. Transeau’s best album front-to-back. It’s the one you’re supposed to have, even if you’re not much of a BT fan, a shining example of the musical craft he’s capable of, many times after put to great use or utterly squandered in equal share. What sets Ima apart from most of his later efforts is the relatively narrow scope of genre he explores. Balearic, epic, progressive, acid, psychedelic... whatever, dude, it’s just house music; a little trance too.

For my money, the bangin’ tracks like Quark, Tripping The Light Fantastic, Poseidon, Embracing The Sunshine, and Divinity are where it’s at, but that’s because I loves me some gnarly TB-303 workouts, which BT displays an expert use of. It even helps elevate the cornier moments in Embracing and Divinity, the uplifting piano refrains, guitar strums, woodwinds, strings and nature sound effects given extra heft (and keeping them firmly out of tepid ‘dream house’ territory). The other tunes are fine as well, though with more vocals so if you just can’t stand those, maybe- oh, wait, this is early-early BT, where he doesn’t sing at all. Carry on, then. (gotta say though, hearing Tori Amos endlessly repeat “blue skies” grates after a while)

Ultimately, the funny thing about Ima is that, for a BT album, it doesn’t really feel like a BT album, not anymore. His muse has wandered in so many bizarre, brilliant and crap ways since, that compiling a straight-forward dance long-player just doesn’t seem like him. Given Ima’s status among many, however, maybe he should do that again someday.

Faithless - If Lovin' You Is Wrong

Cheeky Records: 1996

Of all the tracks to pluck for single duty from Reverence, they went with this one? Insomnia and Salva Mea were no-brainers (lead-ins, to be honest), and Don't Leave made for a decent third. If Lovin' You Is Wrong always struck me as novelty track though, like Baseball Cap or Dirty Old Man - something to spice the album up with cheeky fun so it didn’t get weighed down with po-faced seriousness. It's definitely the most erotic you'll ever hear Maxi Jazz, the sort of sexy come-ons you wouldn't expect a pseudo-religious lyricist to indulge in (sample: “Eat you like a cannibal.” Classy.). Heck, in retrospect, the entire track feels at odds to Faithless’ discography; at least, to the extent I’ve kept tabs on the group, as their post-Outrospective material hasn’t graced my ears much. That’s a topic of discussion for later though.

As with a lot of Faithless music, If Lovin’ You Is Wrong defies easy description. I suppose Prince-influenced R’n’B is the easiest lump, borrowing tempo and sounds of that genre (oh so much womanly moaning throughout). But ho, there’s more: beat scratches, clanking percussion, and a gospel chorus! I... don’t think I’d want to hear that while “tearing off tights with my teeth”. Wait, that’s a different song. Overall, the tone is just too goofy to take seriously as a slice of pure eroticism, despite Maxi Jazz’ sexy descriptions of unhinged love making. Like I said, more of a novelty track following the uber-anthem Salva Mea on the album.

The single comes with a Sexy Edit (just the album version), and a Cleaned Up Edit, which removes all the moaning and adds more light-hearted bounce to the music. Oh, and some lyrics are changed. Instead of eating you like a cannibal, Maxi Jazz will “eat you like caramel.” That’s actually more erotic, come to think of it. And speaking of coming, Mr. Jazz initially said, “If you come first, well that’s the worst”; now he says, “If you go first, well that’s the worst.” That’s... um, that’s just lame now.

On the backend of the CD, we get a pair of remixes courtesy of Rollo and Sister Bliss (I assume, what with no other credits listed). The Slowly Risin’ Mix opens with Mr. Jazz singing his opening verse without any musical backing, a boogie-woogie bassline eventually emerging. Pretty fun stuff, and then it’s off to house land, getting a little prog, getting a little bosh, and, of course, a little hands-in-the-air. Not bad, but if you prefer it when Faithless goes for the full-bore anthems, then check out the Inflammable Mix, about as unabashedly over-the-top as the group could get in the ‘90s. For that matter, how’s this track even related to If Lovin’ You Is Wrong? Admit it, Rollo, you and Ms. Bliss just had another anthem lying around in demo form, and slapped it on here under pretence instead, didn’t you. Oh well, as far as b-sides go, it’s worth scoping this single out for.

Daft Punk - Homework

Virgin Music Canada: 1996

The most important house LP of 1997, and no, I’m not joking. All the hype that preceded it, all the plaudits and criticisms it earned, and all the set trends following its release, I dare ask you to name another house album that had as much of an impact as Daft Punk’s Homework. It changed the way folks regarded the genre – in some cases, even dance music in general – and its aftereffects have rippled to this day. Whether you thought it was a good album, however, that’s been a contentious debate for over fifteen years now, and will undoubtedly continue as Daft Punk draw in new fans with each sporadic release.

While it'd amaze me if adding my voice to the cacophonous Homework dialog ends up having any kind of sway, here's my take on the French duo's debut: it's a good album, with two glaring problems. It's that simple, and surprising such furor over its merits has continued for so long.

There's a lot of strong house music on here. From the opening propulsive party vibes of Revolution 909 (first two tracks don't count), filter funk of Fresh, bumpin' vocal loops of High Fidelity, shimmering shoulder-shufflin' fun of Burnin', and all the way to the cascading synths of Alive at the end of the album, Homework is filled with tunes that have stood the test of time remarkably well. They’re not all-time classic, mind you, but solid enough, and would have been fondly remembered were it not for four tracks.

First, the wack. I won't deny Rollin' & Scratchin' is effective in a club, but the hard-stomp acid nature of the tune aggravates after seven minutes worth in an album format. Worse, it's quickly followed-up with a poor-man's version in Rock'n Roll, tediously dragging down the back half of Homework, including all the songs surrounding it.

Oddly enough, an opposite effect is caused by the two highlights of Homework, Da Funk and Around The World. These tunes are brilliant, and warrant the superstar status Daft Punk earned when they broke out. In fact, they're too good, as nothing else on the album comes close to capturing their delicious, vibey magic. Around The World marks the end of Homework's first half, and you're left wanting for another tune on par with it or Da Funk to emerge. But no, all you get are solid house tunes (and two duffs), memorable when out of context but unable to reach the highs Homework generated prior. And boy does that make for a frustrating album when played front-to-back.

The bitch of it is that the solution to this is so simple: jettison Rock'n Roll (or, if you must, reduce its ridiculous length), and add in the rare tune Musique, a b-side to Da Funk that's just as hooky as the Big Two. It won't solve the 'unreachable peak' problem caused by them, but at least the album's pacing would be vastly improved. Or lessen all those debates over Homework's classic status, anyway.