Emiliana Torrini - Love In The Time Of Science

Virgin: 1999

(a Patreon Request from Omskbird)

I don't know much about Emiliana Torrini, but I've apparently heard her a couple times without realizing it. The most prominent example I've noticed in her 'Top Spotify Tracks' list is Gollum's Song, the closing credits theme to Lord Of The Rings: The Two Towers. Now, even though I didn't get the soundtracks for those films (as lush as they are), I know I've heard that song in full, as I've watched the end credits all the way through, and the extended editions! If nothing else than for the lovely sketch artwork included during the runtime. Or simple movie viewing inertia. Gotta'... see... to... the... END!

More than that though, I know I've heard Ms. Torrini as far back as this particular album, even though I didn't know it at the time – probably thought the song a Björk tune when I heard it (not without good reason to, more on which in a bit). I am, of course, talking about Summerbre- No, just kidding, it's Wednesday's Child, which is baffling to me because, according to Lord Discogs, there's almost no way I could have heard it so prominently. The album it came from, Love In The Time Of Science, had sprung half a dozen singles, not one of which was this particular tune. Yet, the gentle organ chords, orchestral swells, the lyrics in the chorus, the “ba-ba-ba ba, ba-ba-ba baaa” bridge... I know I've heard it before, and frequently, as though it was a minor radio hit back in the day. How? Where? Why??

Emiliana Torrini had released a few albums in her native Iceland prior to Love In The Time Of Science, plus provided vocals for GusGus, but for all intents this was her debut to a wider audience. Being that she hailed from the same country as Björk, and was signed to the same label as Björk, One Little Indian, it's not surprising that this album feels like her producers were trying to mould Ms. Torrini into a similar star. Especially as Björk had grown a tad too esoteric for pop radio by decade's end. Don't worry, folks, here's another Icelandic chanteuse doing singer-songwriter trip-hop! Not sure those were shoes Emiliana was eager to wear, especially as her following body of work generally steered further way from the trip-hop as heard here. Plenty of guest features and writing credits in that wake though.

The '90s certainly drip in Love In The Name Of Science, if that's any way to describe an album of singer-songwriter trip-hop. It sometimes comes off a little over-produced for the simple, intimate nature of the lyrics, though I never feel Emiliana is overshadowed by the orchestral flourishes or wall-of-sound rhythms. The gritty, chaotic guitar squall of Telepathy wouldn't hurt with a Tricky guest verse either. And yes, Summerbreeze does provide an acoustic outing for the whole album, like a gentle closing credits sequence to all that came before. Would be good for future consideration in soundtracks, especially if Björk isn't available.

Ken Ishii - Sleeping Madness

R & S Records: 1999

Not the actual follow-up to Ken Ishii's breakout album Jelly Tones, but generally thought of as the spiritual successor. The between LP Metal Blue America is just a tad too rare and a tad too 'American' for most folks to bother with. What's rather sad is, for the longest time, I wasn't really aware of Sleeping Madness either. For sure I knew of Ishii, but by the time I started noticing his albums in local stores, we were already at Future In Light (aka: that one with the 3D model outline as cover art). Better distribution deals likely helped in that regard, as finding R & S Records releases in Canada was none too easy or cheap in the '90s, no matter how critically exceptional they were (I'm looking at you, SAW 86-92).

Of course, our modern times has left most of these nuisances nicely in the past, and catching up on Ken's work has been one of my long-gestating tasks, if not an exceptionally pressing one. Sleeping Madness is as good as any record to carry on with, showcasing his distinct take on Detroit techno by way of Neo-Tokyo, while also highlighting some of the broader developments the genre had started incorporating by the late '90s. Yes, I'm talking about that almost entirely forgotten trend techno couldn't help but indulge in: jazz.

Oh yeah, there's that jazz, man. Where Is The Dusk features busy drums, organ licks, and layered strings creating a bizarre discordant melody that fits snugly with the seemingly chaotic rhythms. If that wasn't jazzy enough, here's a collaboration with DJ Spooky (that subliminal kid), bringing his trippy hip-hop style to Enso Online - yeah, man, dig d'at cello bassline action, yo'! Missing Melody's title is apt, mostly a spazzy, swingin' rhythm workout that can't have at least been partially inspired by Squarepusher's antics; Game Over too, with Co-Fusion bringing a little more rocky feel to the party.

And golly gee, had Ken Ishii been feeling a bit of that tech-house bug that was creeping in the scene too? 24bit Optimist has a nice, bumpin' rhythm going for it that's not too hard and not too fast, though does morph into that classic Ishii techno stylee with the neon-kissed melodies reverberating off tall Shinjuku towers. Plus, I'd expect nothing less than a little tribal tech-house groove from a collab' with Talvin Singh in Water Dripping Down On The Middle Of The Forehead, no matter how many Japanese electro sounds Ken throws in there.

The rest of Sleeping Madness mostly features all the vintage Ishii techno you want and crave. Man, I don't know how to describe the sounds in Misprogrammed Day, but that beat thumps, and that sinewy hook coils itself around my cochlea like a... never mind. Really, this album offers enough familiar sounds while working in unique, creative indulgences for a little spicy variety. Yes, even a trip-hop secret song, because it's the late '90s, and everyone wants a spoonful of that Massive Attack gravy.

Various - Nu Cool 3

Hed Kandi: 1999

A Very Important compilation, this, for without Nu Cool 3, there would be no Hed Kandi. Okay, label founder Mark Doyle almost certainly had the brand percolating in his head for a while. This one though, this one kicked it all off as its own entity, paving the way for future staples of the compilation racks like Disco Kandi, Back To Love, Serve Chilled, and many, many, many more. Then the brand would grow too big for its own good, branching out from its lounge origins into gaudy mega-clubs and decadent pools parties, forced into Ministry Of Sound servitude to handle all the bloat. Eventually the easy-cool vibes it peddled would pave way to desperate trend chasing, just to keep pace with a rapidly changing clubbing environment, a once respected franchise mutating into a parody of its former glory. Gosh, thanks, Nu Cool 3, for all that.

“But wait!” you say, “How can Nu Cool 3 be the start when it's clearly the third in a series? What happened to 1 and 2?” Uh, haven't I touched upon this before? Well, an ultra-brief recap: Hed Kandi got its start on the jazz 'n' soul print Jazz FM Records, where the first two Nu Cool compilations appeared. They soon after got the backing to launch Hed Kandi proper, with this particular item. And, uh, that's it. We sorted, then? Good, let's get going.

It's quite the timewarp going this far back into the Hed Kandi canon. Their earliest releases were always known for skewing towards the soulful side of dance music, but some of the tunes on this two-discer sounds like it could have come direct from The Garage of the early '80s. I had to sleuth through Lord Discogs checking all these acts and remixes were (then) current. Lots of Masters At Work productions, plus plenty o' contributions from soul-jazz house mainstays like King Britt, Kevin Yost, Rae & Christian, Sylk 130, and Francois K. The Latin side of things gets repped by Cesária Évora's Sangue De Beirona and an Ashley Beedle run on Airto's City Sushi Man. Moloko's Sing It Back is also here, because you just gotta' have at least one big anthem in a collection like this.

Overall though, Nu Cool 3 serves up as fine a dish of house, garage, disco, funk, and soul as you could expect from that scene in the late '90s, providing well-worn tunes while shedding some shine on a few lesser known cuts. A fine way to kick of a-

What the...? Why on earth is Ooh La La from The Wiseguys on here? Sure, tacked on the end of CD2, but holy cow, talk about a tonal whiplash! That tune's always been regarded as big beat, hardly what I'd deem as the 'new cool'. A couple examples of acid jazz action follow, which is a bit more on brand, but still rather rough an' tough compared to all the smooth action that came before. Weird end to this compilation.

Spacetime Continuum - Double Fine Zone

Astralwerks: 1999

Forget all that ye' may think thy knoweth of Spacetime Continuum, for naught, it doth apply to Jonah Sharp's final album with said nomme de plume (um, yo'). This is a very different album from Sea Biscuit, is what I'm saying. Heck, it's also quite different from Emit Ecaps, though the Detroit techno pulse that dominated that album is still felt in Double Fine Zone. All that ambient techno and spacey chill-out and IDM explorations that marked much of his '90s output though, forget about it. For Mr. Sharp, he's discovered a sound that other techno producers had discovered, and wasn't afraid of having his stab at it as well. I am, of course, talking about all that jazz, man! Because if Carl Craig and Model 500 could go jazz, why not Spacetime Continuum?

Still, even in the annals of techno detours, this one comes quite out of leftfield. I can't say I've taken in all of Jonah Sharps musical output, but I see little indications in prior releases that he'd go this direction. Like, did Carl Craig plant some seeds of curiosity when he did those remixes for Kairo? Mixmaster Morris' foray into the realms of Ninja Tune inspiring his friend to attempt the same? Brian Iddenden just happened to be crashing on Jonah's couch and, having a saxophonist on hand, why not get some studio time out of him too? Whatever the case, going jazz is what Jonah wanted, so going jazz is what Jonah got'ed.

And he ain't pussy-footin' around it either, opening track The Ring featuring a prominent smooth jazz solo from Mr. Iddenden over chill, bloopy electro sounds. You can almost feel the warmth of cigarette smoke caress your cheek as you lounge outside a futuristic cafe. Follow-up Microjam gets back on that Carl Craig techno tip, but there's a fair amount of saxophone solos after. Rhodes keyboards too, if I'm being fair, and those are good fun for yours truly, but man, that saxophone... It's fine, I guess, but I've made clear it's an instrument that does weird, uncomfortable things to my ears, and ol' Brian's performances don't do much to alleviate that. A couple tracks here and there are fine, just not so much album's worth.

It's not just the Rhodes and saxophone contributions throwing this so firmly into nu-jazz territory. Sharp also makes use of sampled drums, giving many of his tracks that live-performance feel you'd expect out of, say, The Cinematic Orchestra. Seriously, did he make this in hopes of Ninja Tune noticing? It's almost a shock when you hear techno beats again in Double Fine Zone, even when coupled with the saxophone and Rhodes licks. Even more shocking to hear is Different Bend, a track that sounds like it could have been on an old school trance compilation. In the year 1999! Damn, what I wouldn't give to hear a ten-minute version of it, but Different Bend is one of the shortest tracks here. Such a tease.

Bows - Blush

Too Pure: 1999

(a (late) Patreon Request from Omskbird)

At first ear-glance, you'd be forgiven in thinking this is just another trend-hopping cash-in by another would-be trip-hop-slash-jazzstep act. Well, more the former than the latter, but if Roni Size/Reprazent could have crossover success, surely anyone could repeat the trick (spoiler: no). I cannot deny letting that assumption initially sink in, the Massive Attack comparisons rapidly blossoming in my brain like a bounty of succulent peaches. Or coconuts. Or apples... Darn, what a boring list of fast-growing fruits for a simile. What would the opposite of that be, the slowest blooming fruit? *d'un Google'd* The melocanna baciffera, eh? Well, the simile wouldn't work, but the alliteration would!

Anyhow, Bows was the brainchild of Luke Sutherland, a multi-instrumentalist who plied his trade with the indie rock band Long Fin Killie. Never heard of them myself, but they released three albums throughout the '90s, so a modest run. When Mr. Sutherland started feeling the itch for something a little more proper urban, the band disbanded, though Colin Greig brought his bass to the Bows project. And while Luke was proficient with plenty of instruments (guitar, violin, saxaphone, his own voice), he added a few more musicians to the mix, including Robbie McKendrick on non-sampled drums, and singer Signe Høirup Wille-Jørgensen as vocalist. Yes, that's a Danish name, she also of the band Speaker Bite Me, and followed-upon with a solo career as Jomi Massage. Man, where would I be without The Lord That Knows All, eh? I couldn't imagine trying to research all that when Blush first came out.

Anyhow, the reason those Massive Attack comparisons couldn't be helped is because the UK soul drips from this album (and we all know who invented contemporary UK soul... (James Blake?)). Opener Big Wings features dense layers of swelling strings, oozy-woozy saxophone and horns, and Ms. Wille-Jørgensen's croon over a slow Amen Break, essentially bridging trip-hop and jungle. By '99, I'm sure it'd been done plenty times, but Bows' take on it is enjoyable enough.

And that's about the gist of how I'd sum Blush. It treads ground mostly covered in years prior, but Luke shows enough songcraft and personality with the sound to make this a solid companion piece to the trip-hop lexicon. Some intriguing tricks crop up, such as the ultra-quiet start of King Deluxe (such a whisper of a vocal), or the chill fake-out before going full jazzstep tear-out in Girls Lips Glitter. Plus, the swelling strings of Big Wings becomes a recurring theme throughout Blush, including an extra-long outro in Rockets that almost turns the music into a dense six-minute drone.

If this had come out during trip-hop's critical peak ('94-'95), I'm sure it'd be regarded in the same discussions as Portisehead and Tricky. Unfortunately, the genre was waning in critical favour at the turn of the Millennium, so it's no surprise this would have been brushed off as 'more of the same'. If you dig trip-hop's myriad contributions though, 'more of the same' ain't a bad thing at all.

I:Cube - Adore

Versatile Records: 1999

An album I've long looked forward to talking about, but also kinda' feared doing so. For some, I:Cube's sophomore effort is among the glistening jewels of criminally overlooked French house gems, a record that should have been at the tips of everyone's tongue come the new millennium, and cemented Nicolas Chaix among the upper elite of clubland's tastemakers. I suppose I rank myself among those “some”, Adore blowing my mind when I stumbled upon it. I knew of him, tracks like Le Dub and the titular cut appearing on mixes and compilations in my collection, but I had no idea he was this versatile. Maybe I should have, what with his appearing on Versatile Records.

Yet despite getting playlisted by a wide range of DJs over the years, I:Cube never broke through to the rarefied French air acts like Daft Punk and AIR occupy. Mr. Chaix' project remained an underground darling, one that heady wax spinners expose to an unsuspecting audience at those 'perfect moments' in a set. Then someone in that audience will run up to the DJ, eyes alight with wonderment, inquiring, “Dude! What was that song? It was so funky and deep!” And the DJ will smile with a slight nod, knowing his job was done, and he could now comfortably return to his home planet. “Gastro Funk,” he replies. “Gastro Funk by I:Cube.” Then the punter will furiously tap through his smartphone options, voraciously searching online for that one jam he heard that night, saving it for a future playlist. It's a tale as old as time.

Adore has all that I've ever wanted in a French-pop, electro-dub, deep house record. The titular opener hits you with sweeping strings and groovy-chill Latin rhythms, La La La hits you with the swingin' funk and French soul, Le Dub and Tropiq go deeper down the dub lane, and Cash Conv. gets a little techy with I:Cube's deep house stylee. A bunch of nonsense happens for a few tracks, then we're right back into the deep house bliss of Deep Republic, Pooh Pah (it makes sense when you hear the 'lyrics'), and ultra-deep dub techno of Dans la Piece Vide (DeepChord approved, I'm sure).

Eh, that skipped over bit? It's nothing. No, it's nothing! Okay, it's something. What holds Adore back from being a nigh-perfect record, is what. Yeah, my opinion and all, but seriously, the noisy, abrasive stabs at loud club fodder always sound out of place compared to the proper-deep vibes the rest of Adore cultivates. Caca Carnival at least has a little pep to it when it's not indulging those farty noises, and Lak does bring things back to the deep electro, though its drifting out of key leaves a sour taste on my ears. These tracks don't break the album, but sadly blemish it enough such that I honestly don't return to Adore as often as I'd like. Ah well, at least it lets me savour the rest all that much more when I do return.

Pan Sonic - A

Mute: 1999

(a Patreon Request)

Who knew Scandinavians to be ahead of the techno curve? While Detroit was getting minimal and Germany was getting dubby, a little trio out of Finland were exploring the extreme end of experimental. Consisting of Mika Vainio, Ilpo Väisänen, and Sami Salo, their productions bridged the decades-old gap between techno's futurist outlook and musique conrete's dated art-noise. Okay, that's unfair, plenty of 'interesting' electronic sonic doodles and Pollock paintings by way of vacuum tubes and radio transistors having emerged from this scene. Still, you gotta' be all in with this, or it'll just come off as the random sounds heat radiators or telephone boxes create on a fussy night. Of course, this all became super-trendy once Very Important techno DJs began raiding labels Mille Plateaux and Raster-Noton for a little variety in the sets, but Panasonic was among the first to do it with some level of recognition.

Whoops, sorry, I mean Pan Sonic. Obviously their original handle wasn't gonna' fly with the increased international exposure. Along with losing the 'a' though, they also lost Sami Salo, who had a promising NHL career ahead of him, sporting one of the heaviest slap-shots the league had ever seen. Perhaps not a Hall Of Famer, but still, a top four d-man on whatever team he played for. Just a shame his career was derailed by frequent injuries, such that- Eh? It's a different Sami Salo? Wow, the odds! I mean, he joined the NHL right about the same time as the Panasonic Sami Salo left. That's too much of a coincidence.

Mika and Ilpo may have lost an 'a' (and a Salo), but they still got some use out of it, cheekily sliding the letter onto the spine of the CD case and using it as the title of their third album. As Pan(a)Sonic were definitely in the mix of the new Trendy Techno discourse, there was probably a little pressure in crafting an album that lived up to whatever hype was generated in their favour. Figures they'd almost completely abandon techno for the sake of sonic experiments, then.

I suppose A firmly sits in the IDM camps, though the clinical sterility of the genre isn't so prevalent. Tracks like Maa, Askel, and A-Kemia, for instance, feature nice reverb and echo among its low throbs, clicky percussion and drone tones. Lomittain has a cool, low-ridin' groove going for it. Telakoe is almost an 'ardcore track, though sounds more jokey than po-faced. And Voima could have fit snuggly as a b-side remix on some industrial rock single.

That's only five tracks out of seventeen though, and while a number of the rest are ninety second doodles, there's a wi-i-i-ide gap between 'real' tunes and musique concrete dithering on this album. I get that's the point, Pan Sonic crafting a huge pit of near-nothingness between the noisier tracks on A - makes Talakoe and Voima stand out more. If you've never dug the experimental side electronic music's non-musical potential though, A won't convert you either.

Dr. Dre - 2001

Interscope Records: 1999

A Very Important record, this, accomplishing many things all at once (hay, guys, remember all those G-funk rappers!?), forming ripples in the world of hip-hop still in effect. For sure it brought Dr. Dre back to the forefront of rap discourse, a strange achievement when you reflect on what he'd accomplished as a producer throughout the '90s: popularizing G-funk, discovering Snoop Dogg, crafting some of the biggest hits Tupac and Blackstreet put out. Hip-hop is fickle though, eager to flock to the next big hype as established vets start piling on the years. Following the flop that was The Firm, with Southern rap making huge commercial inroads (never mind its quality, No Limit Records was a marketing juggernaut), and you can understand why folks figured a guy who made his name ten years prior would have been regarded as old-hat.

Then along came a white saviour, and suddenly everyone was talking about Dre again. Eminem must have done more than given the good Doctor a new protégé though, as Mr. Young hit the studio again for a new album of his own. Not that he needed to prove he could still drop rhymes as he did with The Chronic, but hey, when you want to emphatically put to rest whether you 'still got it', you go at it with all you got. And he sure done did that, folks still holding out against hope that he'll release a way-overdue follow-up to this album. Man, just let it go already. Dre's got headphones to sell, yo'.

Right, Dre's not much a lyricist, and the truth is 2001: The Nu Chronic doesn't do much to dispel that fact. When he's poppin' off about his past successes, reflecting on changes in the rap game, taking down his doubters (The Watcher, Still D.R.E., What's The Difference, Forgot About Dre), or even offering a heartfelt tribute to his dead brother in The Message, the Doctor easily holds his own among the plethora of guest spots. Half this album goes on about fucking women though, topics far more capably handled by smooth cats like Snoop Dogg and Nate Dogg (and outright douches like Kurupt). Anytime Dre goes on about “fucking bad bitches”, he almost sounds apologetic to his wife in doing so. Sorry, hun, but the boys need their strip club anthems.

Whatever your thoughts on lyrical content, no one denies that 2001: A Chronic Odyssey is all about the beats Dre and Mel-Man crafted here. No matter how tuned out I get hearing about 'guns, blunts, 40s, and bitches', each G-funk cut on here keeps me coming back for more, rhythms packing trunk-rattling punch with twitchy keyboards, plucky strings, and triumphant horns. And with so many of Dre's big rap friends on hand dropping rhymes (Snoop! Em'! X'! Dogg Pound! Devin! Roq! ... Hittman? Who that? And why's he all over this album?), 2001 comes off like a big ol' Westcoast gangsta' party that you're invited to. Yes, even you suburban white kids in middle-America.

Sasha - Xpander EP (2018 Update)

Ultra Records: 1999

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review)


Feels like this has been a lo-o-o-o-ong time coming, the last of my earliest reviews needing a proper overhaul. Technically, that's not true, another from those first few shaky months of TranceCritic writing lurking down (up?) in the 'A's of my album collection. Doubt there's much anticipation for another Eat Static review though, whereas everyone's always interested in another take on Xpander. Especially when one's original take is a grotesque word salad of amateur track-by-track detailing.

Frankly though, there's not much I can expand upon the Xpander discourse (except bad puns, clearly). The tune holds up astoundingly well two-decades on, still sounding light-years beyond what its prog contemporaries were offering, and there was no lack of bombs from the year 1999, believe you me. I mean, obviously the big synth leads and twinkly melodies are the memorable features, but mang', listen to what's going on in that rhythm too! What even is that burbling, churning low-end? Not the bassline, that's for sure – it's just superficial fluff, yet the sound design on it is astounding! Is it any wonder folks were hot for Airdrawndagger to drop if that level of detail was put into a big, obvious anthem like Xpander? Imagine hearing such music for a whole album's worth. No, really, keep imagining it – we never did get what folks were expecting with Sasha's final LP effort.

It's not like Mr. Coe had to craft such an exquisitely produced track with Charlie May. When this single came out, it was more in service as what was expected of top tier DJs of the time. No matter how deep your crates, how impeccable your track selection, or how masterful your mixing, the punters of the world demanded a signature anthem to your name. Digweed had Heaven Scent, Oakenfold had If I Could Fly, Tenaglia had Elements, Tiësto had his remix of Delerium's Silence, and so on. So too it appeared the case with Sasha's Xpander, the requisite anthem folks going to his shows could happily expect to hear every time. Only he overshot, and now the tune is getting orchestral remakes. Take that, Digweed!

The other tunes on this EP were obviously overshadowed when Xpander first dropped, but have gained more respect over the years for not being as blatant as the main track is. If anything, it showcases where Sasha's muse more generally wanders, never quite coalescing into something easily identifiable while plucking traits of personal favourites of his past. Belfunk's got that chuggy, proggy groove before melting into Orbital, morning-after bliss. Rabbitweed gets in on that ominous prog-breaks business with shades of Way Out West thrown in – and again, just an insane amount of detail in the percussion. Baja provides the lengthy chill, comedown vibe with ethnic samples and dubby percussion. Huh, y'know, under another producer's handle, this could have passed for psy-dub. Never noticed that before. Oh, the strange alternative timeline we could have lived in had Sasha been swayed into the psy camps instead.

The Oak Ridge Boys - Voices

Platinum: 1999

Greetings, people of the year 2018. I am 2073 Sykonee, but not the 2073 Sykonee you may have gotten to know in the year 2017. Nay, that Sykonee comes from a different timeline, one that seems impossible to believe, but then from where I sat, so does yours. Sykonee Prime tells me he grew tired of reading that perspective, and scoured the timelines for one where the Oak Ridge Boys never existed, which is where I come from. Things certainly are different compared those other timelines – why, I'd even qualify it as “better”, what with a lack of nuclear arms race happening. Yes, we eventually harnessed nuclear power for our own ends, but after WW2 ended (which did take longer in my timeline, true). Seems without the original Oak Ridge Quartet doing gospel shows for the engineers working on The Manhattan Project, they just weren't inspired enough to keep their work productive. The war ended before they completed their work, and pos-

Oh, right, I'm supposed to review an album of music from Oak Ridge Boys, not detail my alternative history. Sorry, it's fascinating how much impact this group has had over the course of your events – it's as though they're everlasting.

Since I have no knowledge about Oak Ridge Boys, Sykonee Prime offered me some quick notes on the group's status when they released this album Voices. Seems after several years of singing gospel, they switched to country with a lot of commercial success. Then something called “The Eighties” happened (wow, that decade was that infamous for you?), and one of their key members, William Lee Golden, left, replacing 'The Beard' with 'The Mullet'. The group's commercial aspirations petered out for a while, then Golden returned, 'The Beard' once more preserving the Oak Ridge Boys legacy.

Voices was their proper return-album, though had too much competition from newer country stars like Shania Twain, Alan Jackson, Dixie Chicks, Tim McGraw, and Chris Gaines to make much impact (I don't know who any of these people are, but I'm assured they're Very Important). Voices was thus regarded as an album that satisfied fans of the Oak Ridge Boys, but nothing newer country fans cared about, officially relegating the group to 'legacy status'.

Now, we definitely have country music of this sort in my timeline, though I doubt any of y'all have heard the likes of Topper Gantley or Nancy White or Slim Wittikens. Can't say I've heard any country group with vocal harmonies quite like this though. Wow, especially that bass singer! Is he the bearded guy? Really, the clean-shaven one? The song topics are mostly about “regular jane and joe” things like working for the weekend, finding strength with the loves of your life, starting up families, discovering hidden pasts of broken families. It all sounds nice enough, though rather quaint from my end – nowadays, the only family thing I have to worry about is whether my Martian great-grandkids will arrive in time for Earthen Equinox.

Various - United DJs Of America Presents: Murk Starring In Miami Vice

DMC: 1999

This series is being screwy again. No where on the cover or the inlay does it tell you this is Vol. 12 of United DJs Of America. I could understand if they'd be reluctant to include the number if it was Vol. 13, but for whatever reason, DMC/Mixer decided this was the point they were to break with tradition. No more numerical volumes. Glorious gimmick cover art of the DJs involved. Reduce their series logo to a footnote (well, for the UK version of this release). Dammit, they rented that Lamborghini and retro suits for the photo shoot, and they're gonna' make sure you see them in all their glory! Naturally, United DJs Of America went back to basics with Vol. 13, never doing such a gimmicked release again.

Anyone worth their house-salt knows who Murk is. Oscar Gaetan and Ralph Falcon have been staples of the American scene since the early '90s, establishing their own Murk Records to self-release vinyl under various aliases. When house music was struggling to figure out what to do next, the Murk Boys took the vibes of Chicago and added a deep, sexy Miami bump 'n' grind aesthetic to it, eventually leading to what's often referred to as 'tribal house'. All the big proponents of it – Danny Tenaglia, Steve Lawler, Roger Sanchez – always namedrop Murk as highly influential in the development of their rinsing style.

The one United DJs Of America trend Vol. 12: Miami Vice does maintain is being the the debut commercial DJ mix for the chosen jock(s). So to it is with Murk, although they were mostly known as record makers rather than record spinners. Still, I'm sure they hosted plenty of nights throughout South Florida (and New York), so they have some experience behind the decks.

And they don't do anything to dash expectations. The thick, heavy, sweaty, tribal rhythms hit you early, and remain steady, familiar names like Peace Division, Krome Avenue, Eddie Amador, and Kings Of Tomorrow all weapons in Murk's arsenal. Also, Pete Heller's huge anthem Big Love is on here, one of the earliest CDs to get a feature. This was ridiculously overplayed by the year 2000, but many years removed from it now, it all comes flooding back why everyone went apeshit over this – at least until Daft Punk's One More Time completely changed the game. Anyhow, if you like yourselves a Tenaglia set that isn't quite so silky smooth, you'll dig Murk's contribution to this series.

Obviously the cover art invites a guest review spot from Crockett and Tubbs of Miami Vice fame, but I know which individual y'all really want to hear from, the infamous Tony Montana (aka: Scarface). Have at you, mang'.

Tony: Ay, this [bleep] mix is [bleep] alright, right? Murk Boys, they [bleeep] all day long, and when they [bleeep] the [bleeep] club with [bleeeeep] records, them sexy [bleeep] chicas and [bleeep] with [bleeep]. They proof of [bleeeeeeeep] American dream, livin' [bleeep] and well.

Various - United DJs Of America, Vol. 11: Cevin Fisher - My First CD

DMC: 1999

This name tasks me. Taunts me. Flies in the face of all that I hold grammatically pure and true. Cevin is pronounced with a hard 'C', like 'Kevin', but my brain wants me to pronounce it with a soft 'C', like 'Seven'. Anytime I see a 'C' beside an 'e', I gotta' say it as an 's'. Brains are weird.

Folks new to the house game may know Mr. Fisher for his vocal contributions in recent singles, but he's been a New York City fixture for many, many years. He spent a good chunk of the '90s releasing his own singles under several one-off aliases, and built up a rep' as one of house music's emerging talents on the DJ circuit. By the turn of the millennium, he looked poised to stand shoulder to shoulder with Morales, Sanchez, Knuckles, and Vega, especially since they'd all done prior mixes for the United DJs Of America series. This would launch the next stage of Cevin's career!

He... didn't take off quite as expected. It wasn't a fall off or anything, but house music kept morphing throughout the '00s, and Cevin's vintage New York disco house kept him firmly entrenched in the clubbing underground. Thus he never broke out the way his contemporaries did, though it wouldn't surprise me if he prefers it that way.

And yes, 'dangerous disco' is the name of the game on United DJs Of America, Vol. 11 (his first CD!). The opening Beautiful Day from House Of 909 takes us off with chill, uplifting vibes, but Cevin doesn't waste time in getting us to that ultra-loopy house action, including his own anthem of House Music - Cevin don't mess around with fancy titles, yo'. From there, things go a little deeper (Those Norwegians' Soda), a little Latin (Agent Purple's Kings Of Spain), a little bumpin' (Wet Dreams' Sunrise), and back to disco (Studio 45's Freak It). And what New York house set is complete without the obligatory nine-minute gospel cut to take us out? Well, some, but Mr. Fisher's making sure all flavours of house are repped here, so raise those damn hands and sing the praises of your Lord Jesus!

Oh man, there's so many famous fictional people from New York City I could get to do a guest review spot. For some reason though, an investment banker by the name of Patrick Bateman wants in.

Patrick: I didn't understand house music, not at first, when black people in Chicago were dancing to it. Something about that environment didn't seem right, like a primitive version of the disco nights of Studio 54. New York City made house better, merging it with something called garage. I believe that's another disco genre. It gave house music more soul, not unlike an upbeat Whitney Houston song. House music is now played in many clubs around the city, including The Tunnel. Hardbodies there like dancing to it.

(Uh, you've hit the word-cap, Patrick, and didn't talk about the CD at all.)

The first Cevin Fisher track I heard was It's Gonna Be Alright, a collaboration with Jus Us as No Pain, in 1993. The single came out on Hardtrax Records in 1993, and had five different versions on it. The first two mixes, titled No More Pain Mix and Gonna Be Alright Mix, have little variation between them. Cliff's Deep Flute Mix has some jazz flute notes being played. Rio Beats adds some Latin influences to the track. The Vox adds long delay and echo effects to Cevin's vocals. This was the only single Cevin Fisher released as No Pain.

It was after this single that Cevin Fisher started releasing music under this name. His first record was called Oye Ese Pito!!! on the label Gettin Lifted. His next single was an eponymous record, released on Groovilicious in 1996. This had the tracks Do You Wanna Fly, Take You To The Skies, Pump It, and Pump The Beats. Cevin released many more singles that same year, including I Want Music on Subversive, Raise Your Hands on Sound Of Minisry, and Check This Out and The Most Wanted EP on Maxi Records. In 1998, he paired with Robert Owens, a popular house music singer, and Satoshi Tomiie, a progressive house producer, for the single Darkness, released on S3. By far though, his most popular track was (You Got Me) Burnin' Up, released on Tommy Boy Silver. It's success lies with a sampling of Love Sensation by Loleatta Holloway, a disco hit from 1980, released on Gold Mind Records. In capturing Loleatta Holloway's impassioned belting voice, Cevin Fisher recaptures the hedonistic feeling of late '70 disco for a modern era. Another club anthem Cevin released in 1998 was The Freaks Come Out.

(what are you doing? I said your word cap was tapped out)

Cevin Fisher used a slightly different alias for The Freaks Come Out, called Cevin Fisher's Big Freak. This would be the only record he'd use the alias for. The track uses a sample from Whodini's Freaks Come Out At Night, released on Jive in 1984. Another key feature is the belting refrain of a 'disco diva' singing "Oh baby, oh!" Also in the track are horns that sound like a mardi gras celebration. In combining all these elements, Cevin Fisher captures the melting pot of New York City's varied clubbing cultures both past and present. Many popular DJs have now featured it their mixes and radio shows. This includes Pete Tong's Essential Selection - Summer 1998, on FFRR; Boy George's set in the tag-team release with Judge Jules of The Annual IV, on Ministry Of Sound; DJ Dan's mix CD Beats 4 Freaks on Moonshine Music; Tall Paul's set in Cream Anthems, released by Virgin EMI; Carl Cox's Non Stop 98/01, released on FFRR; The Klubbheads, in their set for the three CD release Kontor - Top Of The Clubs Volume 2, released on Polytel; Flavio Vecchi's set on New York Bar Compilation Volume 1, released on Dream Beat; Allister Whitehead's set in Fantazia - British Anthems 2000, released on Fantazia; Robert De La... Gauthier's Club Foundation, released on ID&T; Richard Evans & Johnathon Robbins' set from In The Mix Ibiza, released on Circa Records LTD.; Mas Ricardo in OXA House Vol. 2, released on TBA; DJ Erick-E's set on Work 9, released on Work Records; Alan Thompson's set in Trade: Summer Holiday, released on Jive.

(oh my god, doesn't this guy ever shut up?)

Liquid Zen - Liquid Zen

Waveform Records: 1999

I wonder if I'd have been so appreciative of Waveform Records' genre explorations had I kept following the label at the turn of the Millennium. Mind, part of the problem was my lack of access to their catalogue, stuck in the hinterlands of Canada, too young to 'Order With Credit Card' off the internet. I didn't even know if they were still releasing albums, and even if I did, would I have been as interested anymore? The names that drew me into Waveform were no longer around, and as a dude with limited funds, couldn't take willy-nilly chances on any ol' CD. Yeah, Waveform had exposed me to some of my all-time favourite musicians right out the gate, but no way they could have kept such a streak going, right?

Perhaps it was fortunate that when I finally did dip back into the label's output, it was with the sublime Omnimotion debut, because if it had been Liquid Zen instead, hoo boy, might I have wondered where Waveform was going. For sure it looks intriguing enough, a stark black cover with a blue neon ring the only source of light. The CD within is darn cool too, a deep blue that probably glows brilliantly in blacklight (I assume, I don't have one) – kinda' reminds me of the colour scheme used by that Wave Forum compilation. Makes one wonder if the Waveform was aware of it...

Then the first track Ultraviolet plays, and it's a nearly ten-minute long trip through downbeat ambience, with wide-screen dub, trippy flourishes, and ancient synths, coming off like a composition intended for an '80s space documentary. Cool, and certainly within Waveform's scope, but then second track Claiming Salvation hits, and it has jazzy overtones, opiod-dub, and lyrics like “Crystal kerosene, drips from your dainty fingertips.” Ah, we're doing trip-hop, then? Nope, third track Painter's Stroke Begins featuring cavernous, cold reverb, slinky synth-pop melodies, and muted spoken dialog like “Crucify beads and petals fall, the leaves broken through autumn's call.” Did I miss something, when did Liquid Zen turn into a 4AD outing?

And the genre jumping doesn't relent. Harold Atom is practically a psychedelic rock jaunt, but with acid replacing guitar jamming. Distant Fading Light actually brings in some fuzzed-out guitar tones. Kateri reaches deep into the well of Tangerine Dream synth noodling. Blown Away sounds like it could be a chill tune in a coldwave album, complete with bitter wind effects. Something is something alright, simple electro rhythms complemented with restrained Gothic melodies. A couple tracks do fit the Waveform mould, like the ambient dub of Starless and closer Forever Infinity, though even here with Liquid Zen's unique aesthetic. It's like if '90s Beck had somehow been roped into the psy-dub scene.

I can guarantee had I heard this new, I'd be questioning Waveform's future. In the here and now, however, I appreciate the label's willingness to give such an unknown quantity a chance. It's good having your comfort zones shaken every so often.

The Prodigy - The Dirtchamber Sessions Volume One

XL Recordings: 1999

DJ mixes were proving rather bankable at the end of the '90s, some shifting equal numbers of units as LPs from established artists. Well shit, son, a few of those established artists were DJs before they made it big with their original productions. Wouldn't hurt to put out a mix or two while between albums, keep the brand out there, maybe drop a little music knowledge on unsuspecting crossover fans in the process. Actually, I don't think that worked. While working at a music shop when such mixes came out, every time a curious costumer only familiar with the radio hits would sample one, they couldn't figure out why there were so many songs all mashed together - they didn't even sound like the radio hits in the first place. (every. time.)

For those more boned up on rave culture, DJ culture, and trainspotting culture though, such mixes were fun items to indulge in. A chance to revisit history, hear the origins of famous samples, discover the influences of a current crop of stars, and be reminded that big acts like The Chemical Brothers and The Prodigy had more in their arsenal than a knack for a catchy hook and a beefy beat.

The Dirtchamber Sessions was Liam Howlett's stab at a commercial DJ mix, and is as much a study in everything that created his unique brand of brash, bold dance music. Having come up through the sample-heavy era of DJing, laying out a dozen tunes in a computer-perfect sequence just wouldn't do for him either. There are forty-nine tracks listed in the credits, some barely twenty second snippets, all ranging from classic rave, vintage rap, bratty punk, and Madchester rock. Plus a Barry White tune lodged between Beastie Boys and Public Enemy, because why not?

There's also Bomb The Bass, Jane's Addiction, Frankie Bones, Sex Pistols, Meat Beat Manifesto, Herbie Hancock, James Brown, Ultramagnetic MCs (gotta' get in those Kool Keith verses), Digital Underground, Primal Scream, Renegade Soundwave, LL Cool J, T La Rock, KRS One, and loads more I'm not familiar with. Plus don't forget newer cats like Fatboy Slim, Propellerheads, and London Funk Allstars. The one that threw me for a loop though, was The KLF's What Time Is Love? - at that point I only knew them for their anthem house hits off The White Room. Of course the anti-establishment manifesto of Cauty and Drummond would be something Howlett would relate to, but all I thought was, “wow, never thought I'd hear such a commercial tune in a mix like this.”

As the above attests to, the tracklist is hectic and eclectic, with tons of mash-ups and quick mixes keeping the pace going. The Dirtchamber Sessions is also surprisingly short, not even forty-three minutes long. No sense blowing one's load in a Volume 1 I guess, but we never got a Volume 2. Might be interesting to hear a 'post-Millennium' follow-up, though I can't imagine it containing as dope of tracks as found here.

Various - Winter Chill

Hed Kandi: 1999

The nice thing about a lot of old Hed Kandi CDs is how cheap you can find them now – ironic, considering how pricey they were when fresh on store shelves. It was that ridiculously expensive entry point (especially as an import) that always made them an easy pass when pursuing the shops for new music, but I can't deny seeing that super-slick cover art would give me pause regardless. Now one can find these things for a quarter the original price, and sure, may as well take in a couple if I see an intriguing one in the used market. They did have a reputation for having good music as well, at least before being absorbed by Ministry Of Sound.

The label also built its rep' on deep house on a slightly commercial bent, but they were all about that downtempo vibe too, releasing at least two such compilations per year. Serve Chilled first came out in summer, and when that proved successful, Hed Kandi head-man Mark Doyle decided a winter companion just made good artistic sense (not to mention mighty profitable as a Xmas gift option). The basic idea behind Winter Chill, then, was music that was best played while cozying up indoors with a hot beverage as brisk winds and dour weather beat against your patio windows. And what better music to supply such a setting than good ol' trip-hop (mostly CD1) and acid jazz (mostly CD2), the most dependable (and commercially viable) of the downtempo genres.

Anyone worth their salt in this scene should know a tonne of artists in this tracklist. Nightmares On Wax. Mr. Scruff. The Herbaliser. Peshay. Rae & Christian. A Man Called Adam. Morcheeba. Innerzone Orchestra. Hell, this is looking like a Ninja Tune collection. Even d'n'b man Omni Trio can't help but stay jazzy-chill with Native Place. Smartly, Mr. Doyle mixes in a number of fresh faces and obscure acts too, letting names like Santessa, Eyedentity, 45 Dip, and Guardians Of Dalliance get a little associative rub from the main draws on a CD like this.

The most 'mainstream' names that crop up are Hybrid and The Wiseguys, but even then we're not dealing with well-known tunes from them. We get the trip-hop bounce of We Be The Crew provided by The Wiseguys, and the French-rapping cut Sinequanon from Hybrid. Wow, never would have thought I'd hear the same French-rap tune in such a short amount of time, especially when my exposure to French-rap is basically nil.

As for all the other recognizable names, I can't confirm or deny whether tracks like Survival, Pacific, So Long, The Sensual Woman, or Moog Island are obscure offerings from their respective creators, in that I don't actually have albums from them. Yeah, funny that, me having so much downtempo music, but almost all of it in compilation form. All I can confirm is I don't have many of these songs anywhere else, making Winter Chill an ace collection for rounding out my collection.

Hybrid - Wider Angle (Special Edition)

Distinct'ive Breaks: 1999/2001

Thank God I got the double-LP version of Wide Angle - aka: Wider Angle - otherwise I'd struggle through Hell with this review. The second CD, an inclusion of the Live Angle: Sydney disc that also includes the brilliant Altitude / Kill City single, supplies me all the praise, plaudits, and platitudes I need to convince folks that I, too, have drunk deeply of the Hybrid punch. I'd hate to have gone into this with the ultra-snark that I couldn't help but feel when my peers were gushing over their debut, buying into the PR byline that Wide Angle was “one of the most moving pieces of electronic music ever”. Dudes, it's a good album, but not that good. Like, did y'all not hear that Dusted record? Oh, you didn't. Erm, moving on.

But no, I get it. Way back, when Mike Truman, Chris Healings, and Lee Mullin struck upon a surprisingly effective idea of combining orchestral arrangements with cutting-edge breakbeat technology, we all loved it. Heck, even 'Son Of God' Sasha bought into it, wrapping up his 'trance-breaks' portion of Northern Exposure 2 with the full, original twelve-minute Symphony. A regular hack in dance music would have taken that initial success and parlayed it into an album-long edition of gimmicky retreads, but not Hybrid. They had bolder intentions with their music, fusing many more unconventional ideas with their nu-skool breaks. Soul! Jazz! Saxaphones! Jangly guitars! Julee Cruise! French rappers! Oh, and a couple more standard progressive trance and breaks tracks too, with orchestral arrangements and all. Gotta' still give the audience what they expect, right?

Hybrid are certainly deft in their music craft, everything about Wide Angle studio slick and polished. I dunno', though – even after hearing Finished Symphony at the end again, the album always leaves me feeling wanting, like I've just consumed a very fancy meal at a restaurant that's high in decor, but low in stomach satisfaction. After which, I head over to the nearest sports bar or night club for some greasy pub food and beer of mass quantities. Throw on the Live Angle CD, is what I mean.

And hot damn if CD2 doesn't warm my cockles every time. For sure it's got the big 'cinematic' singles of Wide Angle in Snyper and Finished Symphony, plus prog-trance stomper High Life is given added grit with pumping synth stabs not unlike BT's Fibonacci Sequence. You also get the smashing progressive breaks cut Burnin', the Alanis Morrisette bootleg Accelerator, and an eleven-plus minute long version of Kid 2000. Throw in the aforementioned bonuses Altitude and Kill City - a track I'd honestly deem worthy of a 'most moving pieces of electronic music' tag – and you've a CD that makes finding Wider Angle worth your effort.

Or not, if you prefer your Hybrid as less 'tear-out' and more 'chill at home with tea and crumpets'. For sure there's a sizable market for that too. At least the 'Special Edition' option gives both of best worlds.

The White Stripes - The White Stripes

V2: 1999

For as big a band The White Stripes became, they certainly have humble beginnings. I wonder if they'd have even broken out of Detroit obscurity without a couple lucky breaks. For sure Jack and Meg White had a good sound going for them, but this was the late '90s, you see, and theirs was a sound no one in the world of Corporate Rock had interest in. Maybe if one of the elder statesmen of blues classic rock made a throwback garage album, that would get some buzz, but a couple of kids out of the Motor City? Hell, the music press already had a new hero from that area to fawn over, a white rapper who somehow earned Dr. Dre's blessing. Now that's a story!

This duo may never have had much aspiration for their music beyond dominating their local scene, but boy did they go all out in doing so. Jack White was already a seasoned journeyman playing in various bands, but when his recently married wife Meg had a kick at the tin cans, they realized their musical synergy was better than anything else he'd been working on before. Thus they dubbed themselves The White Stripes, with a peppermint candy theme in their presentation, about as retro a rock look as you could hope to get in the '90s. While working the underground rock stages for about a year, indie label heads noticed the duo had “It”, and were offering them record deals. They signed with Cali-based Sympathy For The Record Industry (they of Chemical Dolls, Love Dolls, The Lazy Cowgirls, Mad Daddys, Loudspeaker, Experimental Audio Research, and The Pooh Sticks) for a debut album.

And, well... it's certainly a debut album from The White Stripes. They already had a deliberately simple sound to begin with, and if their so-called magnum opus of Elephant wasn't breaking the mould by much, then a self-titled debut sure as Shirley ain't either. If anything, it can't help but be as basic as blues rock gets, Jack and Meg still in the process of realizing their full potential. It's certainly a good ol' rowdy time throughout, the production as heavy and thick as you could get in the '90s. At sixteen tracks long, most averaging the two-to-three minute range, The White Stripes supplies a nice variety of hard rockers, bluesy downbeaters, and... um, that's about it. Hey, it's not like the songs last long anyway.

Still, as decent a debut as this album is, it didn't get much attention in the rock world – they were more interested in the output of Limp Bizkit and Creed, dont'cha know. However, an influential UK DJ by the name of John Peel (perhaps you've heard of him?) happened upon the album, taking an instant liking to it. Naturally, his word gave The White Stripes an in with the always savvy British market, while The U.S.... had to wait for a Lego video to finally catch on too. Then they couldn't stop praising this album!

Groove Armada - Vertigo

Jive Electro: 1999/2000

I already mentioned Vertigo is the only Groove Armada album you’ll likely have, even if you’re not a Groove Armada fan, back when I reviewed The Remixes. That’s only true of American interests though, the duo enjoying plenty of sales numbers for follow-up LPs Goodbye Country (Hello Nightclub) and Lovebox. And despite a half-decade gap, Soundboy Rock did reasonably well in the UK, but it was clear their fame abroad was diminishing. A new wave rebranding for 2010’s Black Light generated a little sustained buzz, and perhaps they could have kept that going if trends weren’t so darn fickle in the world of club music. Instead, they’ve recently opted for that safest of fallbacks all producers succumb to, deeeeeeep house. Ah well, at least there’s precedent in their discography for it.

Vertigo always strikes me as the sort of album that shouldn’t have had much of a hope at gaining Platinum sales status, yet was destined for it regardless. The big singles off here were so ubiquitous in turn-of-the-century advertising, Groove Armada couldn’t help but generate bank from it, though I only heard Fatboy Slim’s rub of I See You Baby on this side of the pond. Still, the summery feel-good vibes of If Everybody Looked The Same and chilled bliss of At The River (mmm, sandy dunes and salty air) make for swell soundtracks accompanying visuals of beautiful people driving beautiful cars in beautiful locales. Instead, we got Moby.

The rest of Vertigo though, how does that hold up? Like, this is mostly an acid jazz record, right? It’s got those funky, groovy rhythms that isn’t quite house music (Chicago, Pre 63, Serve Chilled), ample amounts of jazzy instruments played as laid-back loops or in studio (orchestral swells in Whatever, Whenever, trumpet in Dusk You And Me, turntable scratches and Balearic guitar action in A Private Interlude), and hard-stomp soul (Your Song). There’s also some straight-up house action with In My Bones, plus the original I See You Baby cut, even if it is kind of a plodder. And for a closer, Groove Armada dabble in an eight-minute long trip-hop excursion titled Inside My Mind (Blue Skies) …at least, if you got the UK version of Vertigo. Fatboy Slim’s rub of I See You Baby was so popular though, it got tagged onto the end of American copies, which suits me fine. Ends the album on quite the peppy note, it does.

But these are all loose demarcations. At this point in their career, Groove Armada’s appeal lay in their blending of familiar genres into tasty morsels that played nicely on the radio. Whatever edgy, underground influences Misters Cato and Findlay held, they’re smoothed right the fuck out here - small wonder their recent, straight-forward attempts at new wave and d-e-e-e-ep house haven’t caught on in the same way. Still, if all you’re after is some light dabbling in chilled-out funk and soul while lounging on your patio, then you probably already have Vertigo in your folders anyway.

Vernon - Soundstream

promo: 1999

This CD caught my eye in the used-shop because I associated the name ‘Vernon’ with one Vernon Jerome Price, most famous for his hit Eye Q EP Vernon’s Wonderland. There’s more Vernons in the world of electronic music, but that was my first, so despite figuring this wasn’t the same Vernon, it was enough to check out on the flip regardless. And there I discovered Soundstream is a promo CD for a local DJ, which begs the question how this ended up in a used-shop. Where I paid money for it. Aren’t these supposed to be free? Whatever. Since the Vernon behind this mix is undoubtedly way under the radar of folks outside the southwest nub of British Columbia, commence the background info dump.

Vernon Douglas was a resident of one of Vancouver’s more successful underground nights, Deepen. This came at a time when the city’s nightlife was experiencing a radical shift, the main Granville Strip of clubs turning into homogenized bottle-service experiences filled with ‘bridge-and-tunnel’ douchery, earlier haunts for authentic underground house and techno forced out among the fringes of downtown. One such place was the Lotus Sound Lounge, a literal basement on the borders of the infamous Downtown Eastside. Clearly the perfect place for a proper underground venue, and Deepen found a comfortable home there in the year 1999(ish?). It nurtured such talents as overseas tech-house hero Jay Tripwire, dependable prog-house jock warm-up staple Kevin Shiu, and fabric contributor Tyler Stadius. I suppose I should also mention Deepen was my first ‘authentic’ experience at an underground club, while on a visit in Vancouver from my interior hinterland exile. Damn skippy that night at Lotus gave me incentive to move here. Heck, it was likely ol’ Vernon on the decks, but I can’t recall for sure.

Unlike his pals and associates working the decks each Saturday night though, Mr. Douglas never broke out of local fame. When Deepen came to an end some ten years ago, he moved onto a career in energy management and a quieter family life. He still dabbles with the label/podcast business (Deepen Sound), and will show up for a throwback rinse-out or anniversary love-in for those heady Deepen days, but it seems the hectic world of clubbing is in his past.

*whew* That was a mouthful. What do I have left for this promo CD, then? It’s definitely got that Deepen flavor to it, tech-house with a deep, dubby feel most associate with the opening portions of a prog DJ mix. Dot Allison’s Close Your Eyes is here, as is the Global Communications rub of Fluke’s Slid, and Hakan Lidbo’s Televinken on future Very Important Label Poker Flat Records. Vernon’s set does a decent, groovin’ build to a mid-set peak with Marino Berardi’s Numero 10, then takes the long ease-out into deep house’s territory for the remainder. Soundstream is essentially a strong sampling of what one might hear at Deepen in the year 1999, which makes sense given this is a promo disc.

Oöphoi - Upuaut

Due Acque/Umbra: 1999/2004

And we’re back with another round of second-gen’ Italian ambient composers. Those who carried on Eno and Roach’s seminal work of the ‘80s, but were ignored by hip, young ravers of the’90s in favor of cooler cats like Namlook and Inoue. Not that they could help it, many releasing material on ultra obscure, limited CDr labels like Arya, Aurora, Amplexus, Due Acque, Hic Sunt Leones, and Klausewiese.com. Come to think of it, Fax+ also did the limited run thing with their releases. So why did Namlook’s print get all that hype, and these guys didn’t? It’s the famous collaborations with famous techno people, isn’t it? Good ol’ Pete, he had all the cool connections, whereas Mathias Grassow and Gianfranco Grilli and Tau Ceti didn’t. Remember this lesson, o’ ye’ young ambient musicians: even in this scene, who you know matters.

Fortunately for Oöphoi, he was a rather big fish in the small pond that is the Italian ambient scene. Born Gianluigi Gasparetti, he released his first of some eighty albums in 1996, his third LP The Spirals Of Time quickly hailed as an instant classic within the genre, formed a super-group of sorts called Nebula, and set up his own print in Umbra, helping many fresh-faced producers get their starts. Sadly, he passed away in 2013, yet another talent taken away too soon. Say, ambient world, where is the eight-CD box set tribute for Oöphoi?

Upuaut is his sixth album, released but a few years after his debut, and his second one-track LP. I’m not sure how many in total he has, though I know that 2003 Meditation CD came close, with a fifty-eight minute long track, followed by a brief five-minute one after. Hey, may as well use up all the aluminum if you can.

Much of Oöphoi’s releases have your typically vague, sensory ambient themes attached to them: rustling leaves, dreaming shells, hymns for silent skies, or being of a liminal state. Upuaut is something more concrete, in this case almost literally, as it’s a reference to The Upuaut Project. In the early ‘90s, a German archeologist named Rudolf Gantenbrink set about sending miniature mobile robots up through air shafts of the Great Pyramid of Giza, one of the more curious parts of the massive structure as these narrow passages didn’t actually ventilate the pyramid. Some theorize they have astronomical significance, others more mystical, but whatever their purpose, it led to Oöphoi feeling inspired by The Upuaut Project’s modern methods of exploration and discovery.

Thus, Upuaunt recreates this journey. It’s all mostly droning ambient (of course), but the early portions feel more open and free, gradually growing dense and claustrophobic as you delve deeper into this domain of the deceased. More harmonic tones and subtle chanting emerge some forty minutes in, finally easing out in a calm, meditative bliss with light rhythms. A spiritual ending to the journey? Well, I guess that’s more interesting than the limestone blocks they discovered at the actual end of the shafts.