Plaid - Not For Threes

Warp Records: 1997

All that mumble-jumbo I said regarding digging into an act's extensive discography? Kinda' moot point when it comes to Plaid's Not For Threes. There's some history behind this album, see, making it one of the duo's more essential LPs out of their discography. The Black Dog was...well, not dead, but when Ed Handley and Andy Turner left Ken Downie to his own devices, there certainly was uncertainty in the air. Could The Black Dog brand continue without their input? What would Misters Handley and Turner do for themselves? Might they explore solo careers, or carry on with their older Plaid alias before The Black Dog stuff overwhelmed their careers? Well, obviously we know the answer to the latter one, as Plaid carries on to this day, but man who saw that in ye' olde year of 1997? Hell, some folks thought we were all gonna' die within three years!

Not that those in the know wouldn't know of Ed and Andy's prior work under the Plaid moniker, having already released an album via Black Dog Productions, Mbuki Mvuki, but it didn't have the same recognition as their work in association with Ken Downie. Not For Threes (is this a dig on their former three-person group? Was there bad-blood in the Black Dog break-up?) had the task of not only marking Plaid as their own entity, but convince Black Dog disciples they were as worthy of their attention as anything released in those seminal years. Getting a couple popular vocalists in Nicolette (Shut Up And Dance, Massive Attack) and Björk (endless namedrops) to contribute some lyrics didn't hurt. Ain't no one sang with Black Dog back then.

Sticking with Warp Records no doubt helped the transition, and the clipper-clop beats and funky-quirky melodic electro of opener Abla Eedio likely allayed any lingering hesitation. They were staying the IDM lane, and going as idiosyncratic with their songcraft as ever. Kortisin, Myopia and Fer are chipper, funky jaunts down tropical boulevards. Headspin gets in on that hyper-jazz trend Squarepusher was, um, pushing. Prauge Radio shows they can be just as noisy bastards as Aphex Twin at his drill 'n' bassiest. Or they could go as mellow as a Balearic dawn, as in Rakimou. Ol reminds you of those heady ambient techno days. Ladyburst sounds like something from a Gorillaz D-side. Lilith has Ms. Björk doing her thing over a skittery trip-hop beat, while Nicolette provides her soul croon to an equally sketchy trip-hop outing in Extork. Milh lets the Plaid boys have their modern classical indulgence. Getting sounds like... a deep-dive jazz session in a SNES game?

And there's plenty more charming IDM wonkery littered throughout Not For Threes, which is nice for those who prefer their IDM a little on the sane side of the apple cart. Why, you might even say Not For Threes is the Plaid album you should have, even if you're not a Plaid fan.

Cirrus - Drop The Break

Moonshine Music: 1997

For as much as Moonshine Music pushed Cirrus as one of their premiere acts, I seldom gave them much attention. It never seemed prudent, see, so often appearing on compilations like Big Dirty Beats 2, Moonshine Overamerica 98, This Ain't Trip Hop?, plus assorted soundtracks (I've reviewed a few). The Los Angeles posse were well promoted by their label, making sure they could hang with all the big big-beat boys of the day (The Crystal Brothers, The Chemical Method, Junkie So Slim, Fatboy XXXL). As Cirrus never got name-dropped in discussion of “most essential breaks albums”, I just forgot about them, save the occasional spotting in a used shop. As in this case!

Actually, I'd already heard Drop The Break, one of my old Rupert peers having a copy for himself. I recall generally liking what I heard from it, surprised by the diversity on display for a supposed big-beat group. It honestly sounds like it was made a couple years prior, before big-beat was really a thing, much less a genre to board a bandwagon upon. Besides, Cirrus were still mixing things up with the acid breaks scene of California, their ravey roots far more prominent than any aspirations for rock-approved crossover success. Maybe they were hedging their bets a bit in dipping their fingers into any genre they could at the time, though once it became clear their biggest hits were big funky breaks, it's no surprise they committed to that road.

For now though, anything hot with the Moontribe crew was open game. You like house music? Then Cirrus has the hook-up with Superstar DJ and the slightly proggier Nassau. Or how about that good ol' tweakin' chemical breaks action, with the acid knobs twiddlin'? Then Leap Into The Light or the titular cut have you covered. Big obvious breaks anthems with all the James Brown samples you can handle more to your taste? Break In should sate your needs, especially the Transatlantic Move Mix (original's more proper big-beat bosh). Eh, you don't vibe with breaks at all, as it don't compare to the real business that is jungle? Well hey, guess what, Cirrus made a d'n'b cut too, the super peppy, piano jam October 27! Okay, this one might also be Venn Diagramming with happy hardcore.

If this all sounds too upbeat and hectic for you, then don't fret, as Cirrus show off their chill side throughout the album as well. Ghetto Of Life is breaks on the downbeat, Superstar is funky breaks on the downbeat, and Yallah Babibe is breaks on the su-u-u-per downbeat, suffocating in a thick smoke of hashish. Finally, there's Bionic Hippy, a tune that sounds like it should have been on an old-school progressive house collection rather than the closer of a supposed breaks record. No, wait, there's also a right funky slow-jammin' jam as a secret song as the proper closer. Man, Drop The Break is about as mid-'90s an 'electronica' LP as it gets with that.

Laurent Garnier - 30

F Communications: 1997

Though 30 is Laurent Garnier's second full-length album, I always think of it as his first. Or at least, the start of his musical kleptomania taking hold. His first album, Shot In The Dark, was a strict techno exercise, more a gathering of tunes rinsed out at his Wake Up club night. Upon entering his third decade of travelling around Sol, however, the famed Frenchman was itching to stretch his muse beyond dancefloor tools. A few smatterings of tracks across aliases nudged him into areas like house and trance, but there be broken-beats out there too, by g'ar.

You know you're in for a Serious Artistic Album when your opener is two minutes of minimalist, moody ambient. Deep Sea Diving certainly imparts a sense of dwelling among the Drexciyan fish-folk, though as it doesn't relate much to the rest of the album, comes off superfluous as an opener. Might have made for a decent mid-record intermission though.

From there, we get a few varieties of techno. Sweet Mellow D and Mid Summer Night get in on that freeform Detroit action, teasing out a steady rhythm for almost excruciating lengths, though when that kick hits, it doesn't stick for long. At the other end of the spectrum, we get Crispy Bacon and Flashback, straight-forward techno bangers, with the latter indulging a fair bit of acid too. Unsurprisingly, these were the main singles off 30, since this was the sound most folks familiar with Garnier would be after.

One track preceded those, an almost novelty limited edition records called The Hoe. It samples the line “She ain't nuthin' but a hoe”, looping and cutting it up into a ghetto techno cut that, save some simple strings in the back-half, sounds nothing like Laurent's typical output. Surely the Frenchman has more class than this in his music, though DJ Hell got enough of a kick out of it to provide a remix. And not just as a one-off, 'ghetto-tech' cuts also appearing in the form of electro in Kallit! and I Funk Up. Yep, ol' Laurent was getting himself in on that electro-revival just as it was set to blow up, though I doubt anyone noticed it here. Too enamoured by Crispy Bacon.

There's also a trip-hop outing in For Max, a little reggae techno-dub in Theme From Larry's Dub, a dash of deep house in Feel The Fire, an ethereal outro with chanting, drumming, and synths cribbed from Go To Sleep, plus assorted gimmick interludes, including what I assume is Laurent's child giggling in *?*.

As you can tell, 30 is an album that's all over the place, good tracks scattered among genre dalliances that have been done better elsewhere, including within Laurent's future discography. The tonal clash between some tunes is jarring, to say the least, and I'm not sure how The Hoe could have fit in with anything else here. Folks'll find 30 is best served as a bridge between two different eras of Garnier's production career.

The Chemical Brothers - Elektrobank

Astralwerks: 1997

Nope, still haven't gotten Dig Your Own Hole. It's just not high on my priority list. In fact, it doesn't even register on such a mythical list. Like, if I find it super-duper ridiculous cheap, maybe I'd consider it just for the sake of “90s 'electronica' completionist” sake. No, the $0.52 at Amazon is still too expensive (d'at $3.49 shipping, tho'!). It'd have to be pennies, or given away by someone offloading their old CD collection in a beat-up cardboard box. Yes, I remain that jaded towards Block Rockin' Beats and Setting Sun. You cannot understand my annoyance, frustration, irritation, exasperation, and vexation hearing those songs ad nauseam though '96-'97, so desperate the rock world was in getting The Chemical Brothers over as the next Oasis or something. It ruined whatever hype I had in hearing Dig Your Own Hole when it first came out, and soured every playthrough with dreaded anticipation of hearing those tunes one... more... fucking... time.

“But wait,” say you, “even if you dislike the two big singles, there's other dope tunes on that album.” I agree. In fact, I distinctly recall having my head forcibly twisted about upon hearing Elektrobank during my initial listen way back when. Those propulsive guitar riffs, furious looping beats, random explosions recalling WipEout's frenetic action, and an instantly ear-wormy sample wherein Keith Murray ponders who might be making manufactured, trippy alpha-beta seti-zappa funkiness. Throw in one of the most badass codas to a big-beat tune I've ever heard, where everything slows right the fuck down and gets cranked beyond the eleven, and you've a classic Chem' Bros. cut that I was almost willing to get Dig Your Own Hole for alone. Almost.

Fortunately, a single option for Elektrobank exists, and for whatever stupid reason, it only occurred to me this year that I should get it. And now I do have it, and can enjoy all that psychedelic funkin' to my heart's content. There's even other cool tunes on this single, so let's dig into these too!

Not Another Drugstore is the official b-side, which you might know from the opener of Brothers Gonna' Work It Out, The Chemical Brothers' DJ mix from the same period. It's got a boozy-woozy arp for a l-o-o-o-ng lead-in before diving into some funky big-beat action and raps from Justin Warfield. Don't Stop The Rock, a surprising techno banger from Dig Your Own Hole, gets an extended Electronic Battle Weapon Version here. And if you liked the Block Rockin' Beats b-side Morning Lemon, you can hear a drab prototype of it with These Beats Are Made For Breakin'.

Then there's the Dust Brothers Remix of Elektrobank. Yes, the same Dust Brothers that The Chemical Brothers initially cribbed their handle from, and were threatened to be sued over if they didn't change their name. It's a funkier outing, heavier on showing off samples than the original, but really, you want to hear it just for the daft scenario of it all. No shame.

Wu-Tang Clan - Wu-Tang Forever

Loud Records: 1997

The Wu-Tang Clan's sophomore album couldn't help but be a double-LP. I mean, it was already The Thing to do for most rappers of note in the mid-'90s (Tupac, Biggie, Bone Thugs, Master P), but at least it made sense for this dynamic group. Their debut Enter The Wu-Tang was as perfect an album as any dropped in hip-hop's history, and the half-dozen solo records from various members after proved there was no lack of dope material in their ranks. After so much unprecedented success as a rap conglomerate, they absolutely deserved more room to breathe, letting all these MCs have more opportunities to shine on the mic, and celebrate The RZA's five year plan coming to fruition. Concerns about filler and bloat? Oh come on, how could the Wu Empire falter in their moment of triumph, especially after such a glorious lead single in Triumph?

And CD1 doesn't disappoint, almost a strong album experience in of itself. Yeah, the overlong Wu-Revolution opener reeks of pretentious hubris, that the Wu nation is willing to sit through a nearly seven-minute long sermon from Papa Wu. On the other hand, it does set a tone that the Clan is aware of social issues impacting black communities, and that they aren't gonna' just be another bunch of rappers glamorizing gangsta' lifestyles. Cool, but now that you've cleared your conscience, RZA, how about bringing the motha'fuckin' ruckus again? He done does that, Reunited showing off his newfound twitchy-soul production chops, follow-up For Heaven's Sake bringing the ghetto-grime to the fore, As High As Wu-Tang Get a fun bit of bouncy funk, Maria a boozy-woozy fest, and It's Yourz a good ol' stompin' crowd anthem.

And the rest of the Clan bring killer material to CD1 too, some of their all-time greatest lines ever dropped here (GZA: “Too many songs with weak rhymes is mad long; Make it brief, son - half short, twice strong.”). MCs that didn't much get spotlight in 36 Chambers have equal opportunities among the established stars, and a decent range of topics are covered among the ten tracks (lyrical showcases, street tales, conscious slabs, slum love, etc.). The only thing missing from CD1 is a definitive, stone-cold classic cut, but then they had to save something for CD2.

Disc number two starts off strong as well, Triumph the kick-off, followed by Impossible containing what RZA considers “one of the illest verses of all time”, Ghostface Killah vividly narrating the last moments spent with a dying friend on the street. Unfortunately, this is where that anticipated bloat starts to settle in, a run of average, oddball tracks leading to a slog of hip-hop between the islands of right dope shit (harrowing Little Ghetto Boys, ODB's wonderfully unhinged Dog Sh*t, the orchestral punch of Heaterz). Cheekily, the closing ghetto-soul of Second Coming is strictly handled by vocalist Tekitha, with nary a Clan member in sight.

CD2 is essentially a glorified B-side, but as mentioned, Wu-Tang Forever is easily worth the admission price for CD1.

Various - Techno Explosion (The Other Stuff)

Jumpin' & Pumpin': 1997

Fifty techno 'giants' has to be among the most ridiculous claims I've seen in the copy of a compilation. What does that even mean? Giant hits? Stakker Humanoid certainly charted, but beyond the FSOL stuff, I don't recognize a single thing. No, check that, there is one song that did significant chart action long ago, Eleanor Rigby. It's practically the same tune too, with the string section and everything, only this time, 'Lonely People' (Chris & Tim Laws) add some generic rave beats and piano fills. Fortunately, that's the extent of trendwhoring 'updates', but nowhere near the end of bandwagon jumping 'techno' cuts.

Though this was released in '97, Techno Explosion doesn't reach much beyond '93, almost entirely sticking to the old school rave era. One track dips a toe slightly beyond that, '95's Burnin' Love from Dutch happy hardcore act Critical Mass, and sounding ridiculously out of place among all the hoover anthems and sampled Amen breaks. What, did Jumpin' & Pumpin' not have enough material culled from EarthBeat, Elicit, and Debut, needing to call in a favour from ID&T to hit that fifty mark?

So there's a lot of rave riffs, proto-jungle, piano anthems and the like throughout Techno Explosion, which probably sounds like heaven if you can't get enough of that era of music. Trust me though, you'll grow tired of it all after four discs worth of non-hits. A huge chunk consist of stitched-together loops of well-worn styles and tropes, few raising above the standard stock of the time. Whenever I heard a cut that sounded a little more polished and intuitive, that there was an musician behind the console and not some hasty hack job, turned out it was a track Dougans and Cobain had a hand in. Man, these guys really were far too good for this shit, weren't they?

Right, it's not all forgotten unknowns rounding out three-fourths of Techno Explosion. The Urban Shakedown posse (Aphrodite, Claudio Giussani) join up with Andy Chatterley for the one-off Prodigy knock-off Feel That Feelin' as T-Boom! Steve Mac, who had a proper 'giant' hit in Nomad's Devotion, appears with a multitude of aliases and collaborations (Clockhouse Hours, Coma Kid, Suzy Shoes, Smak, Bubbles). Jamie Odell, who'd go onto some minor fame in jazzy, downtempo d'n'b as Jimpster, earns his early jungle strips as Flag. Darren Pearce would have a successful run with the Reactivate series (they of the cartoon sea-critter covers), but can't escape bog-standard rave 'ardcore here. There's a DJ Freshtrax with a few scattered contributions, though you might know him as Jon The Dentist these days.

There's not much else to mention. Techno Explosion is little more than a label expunging its back-catalogue in hopes of generating a couple extra bones, with as cheap a presentation as possible (not even an inlay booklet provided). It's like getting a torrent that promises hundreds of classic rave tracks, then discovering most of it is just the same nonsense slightly rearranged over and over and over.

Various - Techno Explosion (The FSOL Stuff)

Jumpin' & Pumpin': 1997

This is a compilation consisting of four CDs, with fifty tracks spread out across them. I bought this for exactly one track, Q by Mental Cube. It's a surprisingly difficult tune to procure on a physical medium these day. In fact, the original version that appears on here was its last official release, disc or digital. It didn't even get represented on FSOL's recent, early-alias retrospective By Any Other Name. Is Jumpin' & Pumpin' stingy with their rights to their pre-Virgin tunes or something?

Ah, I'll take what I can get. Not that Q is some ultra-rare track, having done the rounds on a few compilations back when it was new. Finding decent prices for CDs like EarthBeat, Breaks, Bass & Bleeps, and Techno Dance Party II is strangely difficult though, so upon spotting Techno Explosion for about half-price, for sure I'll bite. I mean, it's got Q on it, possible one of the greatest bleep-E' tunes ever crafted! Never fails giving me the knackered feels, floating on a good gurn when those strings and singing bleeps get to work.

But an even niftier selling point was the inclusion of so much more old FSOL material. Yage is here! Indo Tribe is here! Humanoid is here! Hell, even some of their most obscure alter egos are here. I guess a whole bunch of other tunes from the Jumpin' & Pumpin' library is a nice bonus, but like Hell I'm gonna' spend four reviews detailing all of it. So, despite the FSOL stuff getting spread out across all four discs, I'll just consolidate that material in this review, and save the rest for a second review. Trust me, it'll only take one to get through.

So what does Techno Explosion offer for pre-Lifeforms tunes? You get a couple tracks that appeared on Accelerator in Pulse State and Innate (aka: 1 In 8). There's also a track called Hard Head, a funky sample-breaks thing that Lord Discogs claims had never been released before appearing on here. Better get on it, completists.

Aside from Q, we also get the Mental Cube dreamy house cut So This Is Love. Hearing Stakker Humanoid again is always fun, a little more bleep action comes care of Indo Tribe's In The Mind Of A Child and I've Become What You Were, and the cuts from Art Science Technology (A.S.T. and Esus Flow) sound like the duo were trying their hand at the rock-influenced Madchester sound. Yage goes experimental tribal (Fuzzy Logic) and ravey house (Livin' For The Love). And, oh dear, are FSOL attempting an 'ardcore track with Space Virus as Smart Systems? Stay in your lane, lads.

While a few from this era undoubtedly retain classic status, they are all quite dated too, nowhere near the amazing production quality of even Accelerator material. Still, compared to what else Jumpin' & Pumpin' was churning out at the time, it's clear the duo was light years beyond their contemporaries even within this limited range of old school techno.

The Crystal Method - Vegas

Outpost Records: 1997

The only Crystal Method album you’re supposed to have, even if you’re not a Crystal Method fan. Hell, even fans might argue this is their only album worth having, a hefty chunk ditching the duo once big beat fell out of favor with popular tastes. I know I did, albums Tweekend and Legion Of Boom failing to spark much interest from me for a purchase. They still held a significant following with those albums though, which is more than can be said for The Method’s recent ventures into festival friendly mind-rot bosh. Not that folks shouldn’t have seen it coming - Ken Jordan and Scott Kirkland have long kept their foot in the world of commercialism, whoring out their music to the highest advertising bidders in Hollywood and beyond. The difference is they’re lost riding overcrowded bandwagons now, whereas back in the day, they were at the forefront of the zeitgeist.

They couldn’t have picked a better time to drop their debut album Vegas than the year 1997. America was tentatively coming around to electronic music thanks to ‘rockier’ acts from abroad making profitable inroads (heavy Virgin promotion didn’t hurt). Just so happened that a little duo out of Las Angeles was also buzzing, reppin’ the Westcoast acid-tweakin’ breaks action, but implementing beefier beats too. It was similar yet distinct enough to stand out from the likes of Chemical Brothers and Prodigy, and damn skippy American media was eager in promoting a homegrown ‘electronica’ act. Thanks to compilation duty on Moonshine, City Of Angels, MTV’s Amp, and TVT soundtracks, The Crystal Method was everywhere you turned. You could not exist in the year 1997 without having Busy Child and Keep Hope Alive penetrating your earholes.

Still, Vegas isn’t continuously name-dropped in reverence to this day if it lacked the tunes to back it up. Yeah, Busy Child was ridiculously overplayed, but it remains a fun slice of acid funk. And Keep Hope Alive will never get old, big-beat acid action at its crystallized perfection. Trip Like I Do, which had that Spawn tie-in with Filter, if possibly one of the best album openers ever, while Cherry Twist, She’s My Pusher, and Vapor Trail make for agreeable chemical breaks filler on an album full of killer.

Elsewhere, Crystal Method slow things down to trip-hop’s domain in tracks Bad Stone and the spaced-out High Roller (“you got it”), all the while retaining their crunchy acid sensibilities (I think Moonshine tried calling this sound ‘hard-hop’, or ‘trypno’ – you do you, Moonshine). And to prove they aren’t just all about those block rockin’ beats, a couple ‘poppier’ tunes in Comin’ Back and Jaded add vocalist Trixie Reiss to the mix, though Jaded is darn ambitious for a seven-minute, crunchy, acid-soaked radio jam.

If my mentioning any of these tunes had them flaring up in your memory membranes, it just goes to show the impact Vegas made on electronic music. Two decades on, it still reverberates and overshadows everything The Crystal Method has done.

Sash! - It's My Life (Special Edition)

Scandinavian Records: 1997

I got this for a dime. That alone is worth the price of admission for Ecuador, one of my all-time guilty pleasure anthems. And surely there’s something else across two CDs of Sash! music that will make my commitment of 0.10 Canadian dollars practical. Surely a better investment than getting the single, which features all the same remixes found in this special edition of It’s My Life. Two extra tracks of decent euro dance fluff, and I’ll have gotten plenty return on my 1.40 peso expense.

Eh, who exactly is Sash!, you ask? Oh come on, you know who these guys are. Even if you somehow missed the late ‘90s club boom, you’ve heard their tracks, or similar knockoffs of their sound. Really, Sash! was something of a knockoff themselves, aping the pluck-heavy riffs Rollo perfected with Faithless for their own use, as did many producers at the time. It was Sash!, however, that had the most commercial success with them, in large part thanks to aggressive marketing and licensing of their big hits off here (Ecuador, Encore Une Fois, Stay, and all those Future Breeze remixes), such to the point they’re the default association with plucking synth club anthems. And while the group has carried on in the commercial world to this day, nothing has replicated the undeniable impact Sash! generated prior to the turn of the millennium. Soccer highlight reels would never be the same.

But it all started somewhere, and that somewhere is their debut album It’s My Life, of which I spent six pence upon (and dropping!). A few versions with different track arrangements are floating about, but mine doesn’t waste your time, dropping the three main anthems in your lap right out the gate. The titular opener features the sounds you’d expect of Sash! (synth plucks, mild acid, standard euro club beat, looping vocal), but subdued compared to their heavy hitters. Encore Une Fois did much better, especially the trancy Future Breeze rub, but I’ve long been ambivalent to this hit – 2 Lips’ Je T’Aime did the same thing better anyway. Following that is Ecuador, and good luck getting that killer piano earworm and Sabine Ohmes’ glorious shouting out of your head for the rest of the day! (“Eh-QUAY-DORa!”)

As for the rest, you get a few club track retreads (MightyBreak, Cheating Twister, Sweat), a euro pop cut that I don’t remember but had a ton of remixes (Stay), and The Final Pizzi, another big epic pluck-anthem I thought was made by someone else. Hell, maybe it is, but I’m too stupid to recall who (they all kinda’ sound the same anyway). There’s also Hoopstar, a collaboration with d’n’b act Nonex, and sounding completely daft on an album like this as a result. Haha, now that’s worth the 0.51 Chinese yen spent.

Not that bonus remix CD though. A couple agreeable trance and house rubs of Stay aside, this one’s complete rubbish. It’s got Armand Van Helden doing speed garage, for God’s sake! Ugh…

Klaus Schulze & Pete Namlook featuring Bill Laswell - The Dark Side Of The Moog VI

Fax +49-69/450464/MIG: 1997/2016

The Dark Side Of The Moog has seen many ideas for its cover art, details of which I’ve included in the hover text in the image for each review (you… did know you could hover text all this time, right?). Let’s delve into this one a little further though. No, it’s not because I need to burn self-imposed word count after six albums of Schulze-n-Namlook sessions. This is important!

So, this is the CD cover art that comes within MIG’s reissue box sets. They’re all essentially identical, but for the fact Earth inches further down the image with each album. For instance, it started beside Klaus’ name with the first CD, is at about the mid-point here in the middle-albums, and will lay near the bottom by the final CD. A cute enough premise, but it wrecks all sorts of logic if you understand orbital mechanics.

Look at the illuminated sides of the moon and Earth – north to south, right? Thus, from this particular perspective, the solar orbital ecliptic is a horizontal line in the middle of the picture. As Luna’s circling dance with us also remains on the plane of the ecliptic, that would mean Earth should, in fact, be moving right to left in each subsequent CD, not north to south. How did the art design screw this up so bad? Like, they got the orbital mechanics correct with the box set’s main art, so they can’t be ignorant of such a fundamental property of space physics. Did they imagine Earth to have undergone a cataclysmic change of its axial rotation, flipping it by ninety degrees like Uranus? That would allow for a ‘north-south’ motion of Earth from the moon’s perspective with its side illuminated as such, but then where’s the debris field of such an event? Where’s the debris field?

Sorry, but if RedLetterMedia has taught me anything, it’s that there’s humor in nitpicking micro-minutia. Fun times!

Anyhow, Dark Side Of The Moog VI brings us The Final DAT, giving me pause whether Schulze and Namlook were thinking this might finally end their frequent collaborations. Nah, I doubt it, the two still finding new ways of tinkering with their formula even at this late stage. Well, ‘late’ being relative, the project only three years removed from its initial conception. Plenty o’ fire left to burn, especially with these two incessant music makers involved (Laswell too).

The Final DAT has a mish-mash of individual tracks, very long compositions, and pieces extending through different Parts. Part V is the lengthiest at over twenty-four minutes, and is all kinds of space-synthy awesome while at it. Part II and III goes from grand cosmic beat (like, world beat, only… cosmic) into brisk space-synth of its own – oh, and neither III or V feature standard kicks either. Crafty. Part IV with Laswell does have soft, minimalist techno going on, but adds a de-e-e-ep sub-bass line to the trip. Wait, is this proto-microfunk? No, wait, there’s electric guitar jamming too. Never mind.

Terra Ferma - Turtle Crossing (2016 Update)

Platipus: 1997

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.)

And finally this CD. Turtle Crossing is the last time I’ll be doing a full 20xx Update post for some time now, in no small part because my current alphabetical backlog is ridonkulus-yuuge, looking at a ten week trip through it all. How did that happen? I didn’t even take on anyone’s collection! Well, unless you count raiding used shops. More than that though, I’m almost through the CDs from this blog’s initial, aborted run. I posted eighty-nine reviews during that time, and with this one, have done forty-two 20xx Updates. About twenty-one of those original posts will never see an update, as I no longer have the releases associated with them – not surprising since a good chunk of ‘em were singles promptly deleted from my harddrive soon after (gotta’ save on that 2.3GB of space!). That leaves a grand total of just twelve more 20xx Updates after this, a ‘milestone’ that I’ll probably reach… oh, next year, maybe. Ha-ha, hah …I’m never finishing this project, am I.

Okay, enough statsing; we’re here to hear music, not crunch numbers. And playing Turtle Crossing again, yeah, she still holds up, though there was little doubt she wouldn’t. Whatever ‘dated’ aspects you might level against Terra Ferma’s debut album would have been the same nitpicks I highlighted in my original review for TranceCritic, so if you need to read them, click the linky above. No, trust me, there are some actual critiques in all those words. You just have to dig for them, sifting through the dry prose like they’re the gritty gravel and stones of so much frozen, alpine wastes. Mind the yeti though; he’s cantankerous at times.

As there’s not much else to say regarding Turtle Crossing, here’s some interesting details about the man behind Terra Ferma that I’ve since unearthed. I mentioned how Claudio Giussani was also an initial member of Union Jack with Simon Berry, and while the two no longer collaborate, Giussani did provide a few remixes for some of Berry’s recent Art Of Trance material. For some reason though, he used a completely new alias of Kaukuta for the rubs. What, is Terra Ferma locked into some legal limbo? Maybe, since those Art Of Trance singles came out on Porcupine Records, the short-lived successor to the original Platipus print. More recently though, Berry re-relaunched his old label as Platipus Music, and has been in the process of making the label’s entire original catalog available again. Sadly, Turtle Crossing remains among the missing albums, but you can get a mail-order CDr, if you so desire a hardcopy.

Finally, a tidbit of pre-Platipus information regarding Mr. Giussani that totally blew my mind upon learning it. Before he discovered acid and trance, ol’ Claudio had his hand in the early UK hardcore scene. Par for the course with lots of producers, but his partner behind the console was none other than jungle legend Aphrodite, working under the name Urban Shakedown. I honestly can’t even with that info drop!

Various - Trancespotting

Hypnotic: 1997

This is about where I lost the plot with Hypnotic, though it was through no fault of the music within. Nay, the very idea of capitalizing on the hit ‘raver’ film Trainspotting (despite the movie having nothing to do with rave culture, beyond a kick-ass soundtrack), it rubbed me so wrong. Where had the nods to retro sci-fi gone? For sure CDs with names like Trance To Outer Limits, or Trance-2-Metropolis, or Trance Sexual were all kinds of chintzy, but Hypnotic owned it, wholly and completely embracing a future-pulp aesthetic that screamed vintage underground raves. It gave them an identity unlike few other electronic label of the American ‘90s, where most almost seemed embarrassed by the music’s lineage. All that promptly wiped away in a singular jump on a contemporary reference. I could see the end on nigh from there, my friends, the label that once guided me through my early trance explorations all too eager to fill its catalog with whatever trendy sub-genre happened by the Hypnotic office ears.

Hell, we even get a sampling of that right here in Trancespotting, with third track My Wonderful Friend from Trancemutator. No, wait, Hypnotic made another one of their infamous typos – this is Transmutator, a negligible difference sure, until you hear that the tune in question is about as big of a breakbeat as beats could big-up in the year 1997. This was also a side-project of one Romell Regulacion, more commonly known as way-‘90s industrial act Razed In Black. What any of this has to do with trance is anyone’s guess, and it doesn’t stop there. Kraftwelt’s retro-electro sound is here in Confusion, while Sunset Yellow gives us something far closer to the tech-house camps in Agent Yellow.

Alright, enough nitpicking. I said the music on Trancespotting was good in spite of the dodgy concept, and I stick by that. How can I not when the CD opens with the spritely goa trance System 7’s Hangar 84, the duo fresh off a new stateside distribution deal after their earlier “777” experiment caused too much confusion. Elsewhere, Leeb and Fulber show up under their Synaesthesia guise, giving us the closest thing to a trance track in Andromedia that they’d ever go. Astralasia’s The Seven Pointed Star and Bypass Unit’s Helium rep that old-school goa sound as fine as any act not named Juno Reactor, LCD’s Think Smart hits the acid side of psy hard, while Surface 10 gets chummy with ‘psy-tekk’ on Spotting Shmekno. And in case you inexplicably needed a piano trance fix, here’s another Omniglobe track in C’mon Yo, featuring ragga samples no less. Trancespotting, do you even know what kind of compilation you want to be anymore?

A showcase of material Hypnotic had licensing rights to, is what. And hey, this CD succeeds there, most of the acts on here having albums out on the label within the year. Still don’t know why it presented them as a lame style-bite of Trainspotting though. Hypnotic Sampler Pack wasn’t as marketable?

Various - Tranced Out And Dreaming

Planet Dog/Mammoth: 1997

Where could Planet Dog have gone had they survived through the new millennium? The tie-in for Club Dog and Megadog parties weren’t exactly gunning for dance music dominance, content in letting other labels claim the big acts and dominate the scene. Yet those half-dozen names they signed, they made an undeniable mark on the psychedelic side of ‘90s electronic jams, gaining plenty of critical plaudits in the process. Planet Dog came across as a label that nurtured the talent they gathered, even if most of them weren’t long for this world (come back to us, Children of The Bong!). Would another unique, unheralded name have graced our ears thanks to Planet Dog’s finger the scene’s pulse? Could they continue forging their own path when homogeny became the commercially viable option? Might they have compromised their identity to stay afloat, jumping on trends and bandwagons before collapsing regardless? Ugh, that’s bleak. Let’s try Alternate Earth #2,622,673 instead, where Planet Earth became literal Planet Dog. Snoop Dogg is Canine Overlord.

But wait, maybe we have a tantalizing little look-see into one of those more practical possibilities, this here CD called Tranced Out And Dreaming. First though, that cover art. I don’t know what the Doggie folk were thinking with it, looking all sorts of cartoony and crummy. If you didn’t know the pedigree behind the compilation, you’d swear this was some chintzy world beat or New Age bollocks. Hey, maybe that’s why the label folded the year after: bad marketing! No, no, it was the demise of parent label Ultimate, ‘tis all.

Anyhow, Tranced Out And Dreaming is Planet Dog’s stab at a trance CD, as was a popular trend in 1997-o-dickety. The label had ties with the genre, Eat Static already a mainstay on the psy trance circuit, but generally skewed towards the downbeat, world beat, trippy beat, and dub beat. Uptempo goa and progressive trance were not on their radar, and even with this compilation on the market, that argument still holds true. Only Tony Hunt, who has three tracks on this nine-tracker (Katouka, Spectral, and Ionosphere), offers the most traditional of trance tropes, what with high-octane beats, soaring synths, and ethnic chants. While these cuts instantly won me over back in my trancecracker youth, I find them rather obvious and rote these days, especially compared to the other tunes here.

The opening few tracks are decent enough stabs at trippy, acid techno, but the back-half of this CD offers some absolutely mint dub action. Blissy Psilodub from Transequence will give your bassbins a proper workout, while slow groover Drift (Fruit Mix) from O.V.N.I. will have you floating through the cosmos as expertly as any psy-dub offering of the era. Astronomix’ La Danseuse Obsédante is a perfect example of the ‘technorganic’ style Planet Dog made famous, while Feel’s Nyango gets back to some chugging progressive house action on that ethnic tip. Methinks a label forgot what a ‘trance’ compilation was supposed to sound like by the end. Or not. *wink*

Various - Trance Trippin'

DMC Records: 1997

Far be it for Hypnotic to have a monopoly on wacky trance art that screams ‘90s, here’s Trance Trippin’ from DMC Records! No, not the prestigious DMC that holds annual DJ competitions - this DMC was a short-lived print out of Los Angeles that apparently peddled a fair bit of deep house before taking a chance on trance (it was growing popular by ’97). Also, don’t go confusing this with that early-‘90s Trance Trippin’ from ZYX Records, for cover notwithstanding this one is surprisingly decent. There’s a solid gathering of names on here, with everything mixed by that smoothest of jocks, DJ ProTools.

I also can’t tell whether Trance Trippin’ is bold or daft in its attempt at linking fluffy vocal trance with smashing goa and acid. Consider: DJ Dado’s Revenge and Qattara’s Come With Me are a couple of the opening tracks, while the set’s final volley features the ‘buttrock’ of S.U.N. Project’s At The Edge Of Time and deep tweakin’ 303 action of The Pump Panel’s Ego Acid. I don’t think even Oakenfold would have tried bridging the two wildly disparate sub-genres of trance, always keeping his goa indulgences well separated from any club friendly material. This CD done does it though, using a varied assortment of trance to get there, twenty-two tracks in total.

You get an early Ferry Corsten acid production with Pulp Victim’s I’m Losing Control, something that sounds like Brooklyn Bounce from Acidphase’s We Are Back, a little chemical breaks business with Solarstone’s The Calling (Inner Peace Mix), plus unabashed Sash! anthemage with 2 Lips’ Je T’Aime. A little further along, and DJ Scot Project’s Y (How Deep Is Your Love) offers the man’s cheeky ultra-build action, then the goa hits in with a Digital Blonde’s rub of Sandman’s Coimbra followed by Electric Universe’s Stardiver. Once the pummeling acid build of X-Cabs’ Neuro hits, you’ve likely long forgotten that Trance Trippin’ opened with Anomaly (Calling Your Name)!

Eh? These tracks all sound too disparate for a smooth flowing set? Well sure – it is a CD from 1997 after all, and ProTools can only do so much for you without some outside-the-box ingenuity. Trance Trippin’ doesn’t have that though, most tracks cutting in and out after three minutes of showtime, some transitions horribly clashing in key before quickly move on. Still, admirable effort for an obscure label jumping on a bandwagon. How did I get this anyway?

Funny story that! Forced to leave Vancouver and move back to the hinterlands, I knew once there I’d be without cool underground electronic music for a long time – my final purchase from the Lower Mainland had to count. Clearly Trance Trippin's cover art caught my attention, and seeing Atlantic Ocean’s The Cycle Of Life intrigued me, but I wasn’t sure about the rest. Then my sister, hardly a fan of this stuff, took a listen, enjoyed the first few tracks, and insisted I get this. T’was the only time she influenced a purchase of mine.

Various - Trance Psyberdelic

Moonshine Music: 1997

Early Moonshine wasn’t much known for their trance output. Even their Psychotrance series leaned closer to the domain of techno than anything Germany was pumping out with abandon. That didn’t prevent the label from an occasional dip into the scene though, for when you brand yourself as an outlet that offers any and all genres under the raving sun, you’d best deliver even the most obscure ‘hard-hop’ and ‘trypno’. Right, I’ve no idea whether Moonshine deliberately branded themselves as such, though given the diversity of their early releases, they may as well have. It’s all part and parcel of that carefree California scene, where anything goes so long as the vibes stay alive.

As the Moontribe parties of the ‘90s were undoubtedly filled with raving crusties, you bet they had their share of acid and psy trance indulgences. One of Moonshine’s earliest compilation mini-series, Concept In Dance, dealt with the genre, and they kept dabbling with a CD or two in the following years. By 1997, psy trance was having something of a commercial and critical surge (thanks, Juno Reactor!), such that you’d find all manner of fractal cover art and Goa imagery plastered about the ‘electronica’ section of your major music shop. Naturally Moonshine was there to cash in, with DJ Brian premiering his Hardesertrance series, while also providing a Stateside release of Made On Earth from seminal psy print Blue Room Released. Oh, and this CD I’m supposed to be reviewing right now, that one too.

Trance Psyberdelic stands as an oddity in the Moonshine archives, a collection of psy that goes as deep into the dark DMT hole as any compilation of the time. There is a DMT hole, right? I don’t know, I’ve never done the stuff. Heard it’s one ca-ray-zee trip tho’!

Anyway, the cover art has a charming-tacky mid-‘90s CGI thing that seems more like a Hypnotic release, but there’s nothing cheesy about Trance Psyberdelic, presenting us with the ‘serious’ side of the scene. The music within comes from the likes of Prana, Slinky Wizard, Tristan, and Syb Unity Nettwerk, featuring tons of sci-fi lasers, hard-to-the-floor heady beats, acid-drenched acid, and nary a melody that’ll stay in your noggin after the CD finishes. Except Koxbox’ Stratosfearless, holy cow, for ten minutes they do such amazing, diverse things with an incredibly simple hook! Pete Martin, who also compiled the CD, crops up twice, first as U.X. with one-time Juno Reactor and Killing Joke member Kris Kylven (he’s also that Syb guy). Martin’s other, more familiar project of Slide, also appears. Yes, as in ‘Cass & Slide’. What, you didn’t know one of prog’s biggest darlings started out in the psy camps? Don’t worry, easy mistake, that.

Eh? Oh yeah, I did say Trance Psyberdelic doesn’t stick in the brain much after. It’s a fussy sort of psy, sounding fine as it plays, but lacking the soaring thrills this genre often has. Except that Koxbox cut, that’s fun!

Live - Secret Samadhi

Radioactive: 1997

Oh my God, I’m actually starting to like Live. Now I feel bad for every lame, clichéd punch-line I’ve ever delivered in their direction. You know how they typically go: “that band that everyone loved but can’t remember any reason why”; or “you know you’re from the ‘90s if you have Throwing Copper among your CDs”; or “oh yeah, Live, they had that big hit December, right? Or was that Push?” (sorry, Canadian joke). Maybe it’s because I never realized they shared so many similarities to national treasures The Tragically Hip, though it’s not like I delved deeply into their discography either. And even when I took on Throwing Copper, it essentially confirmed what I always felt Live was: a solid enough alternative rock band, fully deserving of their success but not one I thought capable of exceeding that commercial peak.

And Secret Samadhi oblitera- no, not quite; forced a reassessment of my initial assumptions, yes let’s go with that. I figured Live’s third album would carry on from Throwing Copper, the band daring not to mess with the sure thing they’d generated for themselves. I’m sure tons of folks figured that too, the record hitting top of the Billboard before being unceremoniously knocked out a week after by the Howard Stern movie soundtrack. Perhaps it couldn’t be helped, their breakout record one of the slowest burners the world of rock had ever seen. Whatever enthusiasm folks had for Live in those glorious mid-‘90s times would have waned as other new hotness emerged. But hey, Secret Samadhi did knock No Doubt’s Tragic Kingdom from its long perch atop Canadian charts, so good on that.

Generally speaking, Secret Samadhi is more of the same Live stylee, but evolving just enough for a stronger outing than before. Yes, I feel this record is better than Throwing Copper, delving into ‘post-grunge’ form without getting too slick about it, nicely selling a ‘bar band with a budget’ vibe. Sure, there’s an orchestra backing a couple tracks, and they have plenty studio polish at their disposal, but nothing is overdone or varnished into blandness as so much mega-selling rock of the ‘90s goes. Despite their continued stadium success abroad, I could totally see Live playing live at the local dive bar. No, that’s a good thing! Though I don’t actively seek it out, I’m still a sucker for bluesy, alternative rock, where tales of common folk struggles are told with not a hint of preaching or sanctimonious condemnation. Even with Kowlaczyk interjecting headier concepts of spiritualism and mysticism this time out, Live still remain grounded in how they present themselves. For a chap that will likely never lose his small town sensibility (I keep trying!), this remains most appealing.

While I’m almost certain this ends my forays into Live’s discography, I must admit coming away from both Throwing Copper and Secret Samadhi more appreciative of the band than I ever thought possible. And will someone help out their Wiki pages? Dear God, it’s disgraceful.

Jonny L - Sawtooth

XL Recordings: 1997

Some days, you just need that drum’n’bass hit. Seeing the multitude of memes declaring this biological fact as gospel, I know I’m not alone in this sentiment, though my cravings don’t run as deep as some junglists go. However, it’s enough that every so often I must pick up some proper rudeness for my brain’s rhythm centers, a prospect that’s not as easy as it once t’was. For sure it’s simple enough finding any ol’ DJ set or label rinseout online, but I gotta’ sate that collector’s itch too, and finding good d’n’b albums is always a tricky proposition, especially when one wanders back to the ‘90s for their fix. Some are too damn obvious (Goldie, Roni Size) or too damn expensive (Logical Progression), but with a little digging, something unexpected can surface.

Not that Jonny L is an unknown entity, but I never pegged him an album guy. Like most d’n’b producers, he made his living on the singles market, signing early to XL Recordings way back when he was still making rave hardcore. As with many, he moved into jungle’s domain, navigating the scene’s numerous splintering roads with remarkable ease. There’s an atmospheric style out there now? Here’s a pair of future classics in Tychonic Cycle and I Let U then. And that emergent tech-step vibe one Grooverider was champion-sounding? Jonny L became one of the genre’s leaders, tracks like Piper, S4, and Wish U Had Something among the earliest anthems spit out. His style was something of a bridge between the darkcore ruffness of the older days, and the precision production of Photek’s work, leading to tracks that hit in hard bursts as different drum patterns rotated in and out. Also, heavy sci-fi influences, dragging the junglists out of the grimy London warehouses and into, um, grimy warehouses on Mars. Can you step to these Martian moves?

I knew all this prior to hearing Jonny L’s debut LP, Sawtooth, as I heard most of these songs elsewhere. In fact, I have at least half the tracks here on other CDs (including Treading) hence why I figured Mr. Lisners more an EP guy. I never considered his first album had been raided for so many tunes! Does this make Sawtooth an unheralded classic the likes we should prop up every chance given?

Ah, not quite. For a ‘90s d’n’b album, it’s solid enough, though if you don’t fancy the tech-step stylee, there isn’t much else to vibe on here. For sure the two atmospheric cuts are mint, and ol’ Jonny throws a single swerve in mid-track Detroit, a tune that clearly wants to be an old-school electro homage, but comes out sounding like technobass instead. Wait, that’s awesome! Other tracks like Moving Thru Air, Two Of Us and Obedience stick to the tech-step sound, good tracks in of themselves though a little redundant when taking in Sawtooth as a whole. Yeah, about as cliché a d’n’b album nitpick as it gets, that one.

Lee 'Scratch' Perry - Technomajikal

ROIR (Reachout International Records): 1997

Lee 'Scratch' Perry and one of the guys from Yello? Sure, why not. Stranger collaborations have gone down in electronic music. Collaborations such as... um... well, certainly none along the way of The Orb or Pete Namlook so often indulged in. Those pairings made some sense, musicians with common synergy feeding off each other’s vibes. This is true for many scenes in electronic music, and though cross-pollination doesn't happen often, it hasn't stopped an occasional producer’s flight of fancy in trying something with someone outside their comfort zone. Guest rappers from the world of hip-hop don't count since that’s mercenary work unintended for a full LP's worth of material. This just might be the oddest pairing in electronic music I’ve ever seen then – most definitely within my own collection of CDs anyway.

Quick rundown of the players involved. Lee ‘Scratch’ Perry (aka: The Upsetter; aka: The Prophet; aka: Super Ape; aka: Pipecock Jakxon; aka: Toots; aka:...) is a Jamaican legend, often credited with being among the earliest pioneers of reggae dub. He’s produced countless records, famously burned down his own studio in a fit of paranoia, then moved to Europe for an extended bout of ‘quiet time’. Though nearing his 80th birthday, he continues to make music and tour in some limited capacity. In the other corner we have Dieter Meier, vocalist of synth-pop fusion weirdos Yello fame, carving out an incredibly unique sound of blended traditional Latin influences into a future-leaning world. Though often name-dropped as inspiration by many contemporary producers, their approaches to music was wildly different; not to mention their lifestyles. Perry was a Jamaican immigrant eccentric, whereas Meier was a millionaire industrialist making music as a lark. Nope, nothing in common at all.

Except for the fact they both were living in Switzerland. Ol’ Dieter, a fan of the Super Ape, got in touch with ol’ Lee, and convinced him into some sessions in his studio. I’ve no idea if the two had any idea of what they’d make, and legend purport Perry was barely committed to the project at all. Mr. ‘Scratch’ apparently went so far as to record his vocals outdoors, though given his famously eccentric behaviours, that part isn’t so surprising.

Unfortunately, the resulting album of Technomajikal plays to neither of each musician’s strengths. Perry goes on about psychedelia, representing music, and being “x-perry-mental” with rudimentary lyricism that, for the longest time, I thought were samples from other works. Much of the music crafted are proto-goa trance rhythms and sounds, and though more dynamic than such beats typically go, it’s still not much better than the filler on any number of budget compilations.

With half the CD taken up with pointless remixes and alternate versions, Technomajikal ultimately comes off like a project that was only half-realized before pushed out so it wasn’t a total loss. The only track that reaches the ‘Lee Meets Dieter’ promise is final cut Crazy House, with all sorts of off-kilter ‘Scratch’ ad-libs and quirky Yello percussion. A shame.

Loverboy - Collections

Columbia/Sony Music Entertainment: 1997/2004

I've gone on and on about how much I canned The Police and Boney M as a toddler, but a third act got significant play too: Loverboy. Okay, it was in fact just one song, Turn Me Loose, which I had to operate my father's reel-to-reel rig to hear. My memory's hazy on the exact age (at least pre-school), but I gotta' hand it to my younger self for figuring out that contraption, just to hear those early synths, catchy chorus, and thumping tom drums. And the way it builds, mang, layers of guitars and synths and drums, with key changes for solos, it all blew my young mind. At five thirty-eight in length, Turn Me Loose may as well have been a prog rock epic, and boy did I ever take every chance to play it again, when I wasn't distracted by toys and picture books and TV and backyard bush forts. Ah, the hectic life of the four year old.

That’s just one perspective though. For many, Loverboy came to represent ‘80s rock at its best without crossing that terrible line of banal corporate radio cheese. They were shameless in giving us arena anthems, and though they rocked the hot coloured leather pants, they never went full hair metal either. They’ve been immortalized on Saturday Night Live, their other huge hit Working For The Weekend featured in the classic Swayze-Farley ‘Chippendales’ skit. Yeah, that’s now two bands I’ve covered in this Collections series that have been featured on SNL. Just a coincidence, I’m su- wait, Lord Discogs is telling me something. Oh my God, there’s a radio vinyl with both Loverboy and Blue Öyster Cult concert material on it! This is too weird. It must be Columbia promotions doing this. The defunct label’s getting back at me for never taking them upon their penny deals!

Whereas Johnny Cash had too large a discography for Collections to do him justice, and Dr. Hook had too few albums available due to label politics, Loverboy’s reign is just about perfect for the ten track limit. Almost all of their singles from the ‘80s make the cut, only missing out on early tune The Kid Is Hot Tonite (at the time way overshadowed by Turn Me Loose and Working For The Weekend), Jump (there’s only one worthy Jump from the early ‘80s), and Lovin’ Every Minute Of It (wait, what?).

If you’re not familiar with the rest of Loverboy’s singles, here’s the obligatory run-down: When It’s Over is a pseudo follow-up to Turn Me Loose. Take me To The Top has some chunky synth work. Hot Girls In Love is typical ‘80s cock rock. Lucky Ones needs a Rocky montage but not as much as Queen Of The Broken Hearts and Strike Zone, while Dangerous and ballad This Could Be The Night has the hallmarks of a rock band succumbing to hair metal tropes.

But hey, Loverboy helped usher in the synth-heavy rock anthem era of that decade. They were the ‘80s!

Biosphere - Substrata²

Origo Sound/Touch: 1997/2001

The only Biosphere album you're supposed to have, even if you're not a Biosphere fan. What an odd thing to say, considering most point to his first two albums, Microgravity and Patashnik, as the classic Biosphere stylee. But then Geir Jenssen had to go and make a classic ambient LP with Substrata, all but cementing his legacy as one of the premier acts in the genre. Okay, he already had done that, though not everyone was into the sci-fi bleep techno either. When you go full-on ambient though, with the pads and the layers and the drones and the field recordings, you get the attention of all ambient heads, from the Eno old-schoolers to the Namlook nu-stylers, and all the savvy Roach-Orb-Obmana disciples between.

Specifically, Substatra marked a significant change in how Mr. Jenssen treated his Biosphere project. Instead of crafting music with a sci-fi, futuristic bent, he set his sights closer to home, grounding his compositions within our earthly domain, and localizing them deep within his native lands of northern Norway. This is dark, moody ambient that glows bright within the reflections of crackling fires against snow covered fields. This is spacious ambient as heard echoing off jagged, glacial mountains. This is intimate, melancholic ambient, absorbed while huddled in a lonesome cabin outpost during the dead of Arctic Circle winter, aurora borealis cascading across Ursa Major and Casseopeia. These are all metaphors and similes that have undoubtedly been oft repeated when describing Substrata since its release nearly two decades ago. I want my kick at the can though, darn it all.

Substrata is essential ambient, of that there’s no doubt. It’s one of the most unique offerings of the genre, and responsible for many future attempts at emulating droning winter chill. However, that isn’t the album you’re supposed to have. No, that would be this 2001 version, Substrata², which includes a remastering of the original, plus a second CD containing the two bonus Japanese tracks, and score work for an old-timey Russian silent film Man With A Movie Camera.

The latter came about when Geir was approached by the Tromso International Film Festival to write a new soundtrack to the 1929 original, I suppose to give a modern interpretation based on film-maker Dziga Vertov’s notes. Though they share similar aesthetics, Man With A Movie Camera is more abstract than Substrata, and probably makes better sense when viewed with the film. Meanwhile, the Japanese tracks are more like Biosphere’s earlier works, The Eye Of The Cyclone doing the upbeat sci-fi ambient techno thing, while eleven-minute long Endurium going for the slower, downbeat take on that style. Both sound like they were works Geir produced before abandoning beats altogether for Substrata proper. As b-sides though, these are mint.

Anything else I write here is elementary. If you haven’t heard Substrata yet because of some preconceived doubts of its brilliance, let my voice add to the choir that the hype is justified, and spring for the double-disc version while you’re at it.