Various - Cottage Industries (A Neo Ouija Compilation)

Neo Ouija: 2000/2020

Humble beginnings for this humble label, a tidy single CD kicking off the continuing Cottage Industries series. Seriously, it just came out with its twelfth volume this past month, once again indulging in a triple-disc collection of... well, if you don't know what the deal with Neo Ouija's musical showcase by now, I don't know what else to say.

That does leave me wondering how Cottage Industries: Da' Kickoff fared when it first came out. Obviously it didn't have commercial aspirations – almost nothing with this much glitchy-twitchy rhythm making had much financial hope at the turn of the century. Surely though, the abundant twee melodies lurking underneath all the leftfield beatcraft would lure in many a passerby, melancholic moods in a rapidly digitizing age. Some, I wager, but if the original CD's Discoggian data is accurate, this was not a widely distributed compilation. Less than three-hundred folks claim to hold a copy, which is a shockingly low amount for a release nearly a quarter century old now. Or perhaps it never had much promotion in the first place, forever remaining ultra-niche in an already incredibly niche micro-scene, unable to gain the critical attention similar prints like Raster-Noton and Mille Plateaux attracted.

Does this make Cottage Industries: Comin' On Cool an overlooked gem within said scene? I honestly don't know, as my own interactions with it remain skint. I'm sure the CD has its die-hards proclaiming its genius, but nor have I seen it relentlessly name-dropped abroad. It just doesn't contain those essential tracks or artists a classic compilation needs for that demarcation. Sure, a few familiar names crop up: Geiom would go onto a decent career in future garage and dubstep, Clatterbox made his way into techno sets throughout the '00s, Yunx has featured in Nick Warren set, and that Lee Norris fella' collaborating with Geiom as the one-off Consumer Durable seems to have done well for himself. Other names are complete blanks to me, however, some of whom have sparse Discogs data beyond this CD. Sometimes its hard getting hype for names like Phonem, Penfold Plum, and Plod.

And I have to be honest: this era of clicks 'n cuts has long been hit or miss for yours truly. It's an aesthetic thing, the micro-glitchy sounds too often rubbing against my cochlea the wrong way. Not to mention I can't shake the assumption some of these producers are just showing off what they can do with whatever plug-ins or gear they're using, rather than composing an actual tune worth listening to. And there's only so much the twee melodies included can do to hide that postulation. Eegh, now look, this egg-headed music making me use egg-headed terminology.

It's not all skittery micro-edits, mind. Quinoline Yellow's Eythl Maltol goes more drill 'n bass on his beats, Clatterbox' Power Up gets on the chiptune vibe, while Yunx' Nemo-Sis sounds like a regular ol' ambient techno tune. Beyond that though, expect lots of experimental digital rhythms coupled with charming synths.

Dub_Connected - Vol. 1 - Mind The Gab!

Liquid Audio Soundz: 2000

I've dabbled in Gabriel Le Mar's material here and there, but there's more I should be digging into than his prime project and that Saafi Brothers joint. Like, the Ambient Dub compilation (no, not those ones ...Or those other ones). It featured his production on nearly half the tracks. What about Banned-X and Dublocation and such? Just how far deep into the Gabriel rabbit-hole can one go? And how much effort will it take doing so? A little, I wager, but the good news is artists are making things much easier by uploading their back catalogue to Bandcamp. Ooh, I spy a couple Dub_Connected selections there. The track Dublicity got itself an Ace Track honour back on Ambient Dub. Seems an easy choice to start on, then.

And by Ongoing Alphabetical Decree, I'm covering Vol. 1 – Mind The Gab! first. Hey, it's got Dublicity on it as well! Good to know I'm not going into this one utterly blind, then. That said, I can't tell if this is an album or a compilation. Like, I'd assume an album, since most of the tracks seem specific to this release, but Lord Discogs says this is a compilation, and the Lord knows all. Far as I can tell, this was a side project Mr. Le Mar had as The Gab! working with an assortment of other producers. I guess that can make this a compilation, but I dunno'. That would be like saying every album from The Orb is a compilation, what with the rotating cast of artists working with Alex Patterson.

Anyhow, Mind the Gab! kicks off with a collaboration with Ronda Ray called Martha. Oh man, I wonder if Mr. Mastichidis has any idea how much cultural cache that name has these days! Regardless, it's a suitably groovy, dubby little number, closer to the realms of acid jazz really. A 'Dubbed' version closes things out, though it's more like a 'stripped' version. Interesting that Gab' was doing such remixes even this early on.

From there, we get the crunchy techno dub of Dublicity and High Moon with 10Cars. The Rootsman pairings find the two going more tribal techno. Plug-A-Dub with Carson Plug gets minimalist in its dub, while 13 Monde (whom Lord Discogs knows nothing about) coerces the bangier, ravier side of techno dub from Mr. Le Lar with the tracks Drop Worlds and Mental Chant. And finally Jack “No, not that one, obviously” Black provides Gab! with a simple dubby groover in At The End Of The Century.

So a decent collection of techno dub, all said. It won't light your world on fire, but it's fun while it plays. In the end, I'm just glad Gabriel made this available on Bandcamp, as I'd hate to have broken the bank paying huge Collector's Market sums of cash for this. Say, how much is the original CD going for now? *checks*. Huh. That cheap, eh. Well, I'm sure Mr. Dub_Connected appreciates my direct financial compensation.

Speedy J - A Shocking Hobby

NovaMute: 2000/2021

The final Speedy J album I've yet to review, and possibly the most significant one for Mr. Paap in terms of where his career was going. Loudboxer put a permanent stamp on his turn towards techno bangers, but the notion of releasing a singular, uncompromising audio assault for a full LP starts with A Shocking Hobby. Prior albums typically offered a variety of tempo, tunes, and tones, and while the same can be said for most of this one too, there's no denying this record is best enjoyed – and perhaps properly only enjoyed – as a single sit-down experience. From front to back, A Shocking Hobby hardly deviates from its future-shock, broken-beat aggro-techno vibe.

You might sense familiar territory with opener Terre Zippy, starting an album similarly to Public Energy No. 1. Yet whereas Tuning In instilled a bit of uneasy calm before Jochem unleashed Patterns on you, Terre Zippy is all abrasive industrial drone, increasing the tension to fever pitch before unleashing an even nastier piece of big beat business in Borax. I wouldn't go so far as to call this track drill n' bass though, as there's a certain level of measured structure going on here compared to the frenetic pace the IDM camps generally enjoy. As for melody, forget it. Whereas Patterns had those big, rousing orchestral strings at its climax, Borax settles for some layered strings at its peak, finding whatever seams of boshing beats they can squeeze through.

And while you can tell when there's a shift into another track on A Shocking Hobby, everything's so aurally consistent that it almost sounds like a live session getting rinsed out rather than individual tracks. Interstitial piece Ferber Mudd may as well be a brief continuation of ideas already explored in Borax, while Balk Acid carries on with the booming, distorted rhythms just the same, with it's own nice little melody in support that will get all your Aphex Twin comparisons triggering.

Even more than the last album, those links to the IDM wonks of the '90s have been made with A Shocking Hobby, and I can't deny, the drill n' bass vibes of tracks like Vopak, Actor Nine and Drill are clear as any day. I dunno' though, this album still feels more rooted in techno's domain than IDM, using sonic experimentation as a tool for an LP narrative rather than for its own sake track to track. Even the downbeat pieces towards the end serve as a comedown coda to the audio assault that came before in this apocalyptic war of industrial breaks.

Still, though I'd consider A Shocking Hobby a far more successful outing of such sounds compared to the transitional Public Energy No. 1, it's still a noisy session from Speedy J, one I can see only a handful of folks would be down for. Plus, while critically solid, I doubt making such music was all that financially lucrative for Jochem. Now, that warehouse-ready, club friendly 4am techno, there's an untapped market...

Sven Väth - Retrospective 1990-97

Club Culture: 2000

Kinda' wild to think there aren't many Sven Väth compilations. Plenty of Harthouse or Eye-Q collections, sure, where he's had his hand in the production chair one way or another. An actual LP dedicated to just his works though? This simple little nine-tracker released in the year 2000 is about it. Okay, also a Mixmag set he did for his 30th anniversary as an artist. This CD doesn't go that far back though, only focusing on his Harthouse era. I assume because Club Culture – and by extension, WEA – only had licensing rights to these tracks, thus it was all they could include. And with Sven's Cocoon print and nightclub gaining plenty of plaudits at the turn of the century, time was about right for those licence holders to cash in.

Nine tracks may not seem like a lot of music covering a seven year span, but considering a few of these cuts breach the double-digit length, I'd say that's reasonable bang for your buck. Not so much, though, if you were already a hardcore Harthouse follower, very little on Retrospective even the most casual consumer of that label's output wouldn't already have. Heck, I already have two-thirds of these tracks in some form, but there are a few remixes that I haven't plucked up yet, plus a few others missing from my own library, so springing a few bones for this compilation was an easy buy for yours truly.

Sven Väth's retrospective collection opens up with the early trance hit of Zyon's No Fate ...which isn't actually a Sven Väth joint. Oh, he and right-hand man Ralf Hildenbeutel are definitely on the Struggle Continuous Mix (the version with d'at piano!), which is what's included here. And this is a perfectly suitable track to open Sven's CD on. Just, y'know, hilarious how Sven technically isn't much involved with it, but rather those other two Eye-Q all-stars: A.C. Boutsen and Stevie B-Zet. Speaking of, Vernon's Wonderland is also on here, but again as remix (called The Future) handled by Sven and Ralf.

Anyhow, of the tunes I already have, Spectrum is here, as is An Accident In Paradise. Heck, I even have that ultra-long Underworld rub of Harlequin – The Beauty And The Beast, which I assume would have been a selling point for this CD for most others. Nice to finally have an original version of the classic, chipper My Name Is Barbarella, though this moody, minimalist Michael Mayer version of L'Esperanza isn't much to get fussed about – darn edits.

That leaves just two tracks I've never talked about. The first is Sven's own Ballet Fusion but it's also an edit, so nuts to that. Electro Acupuncture then, with B-Zet under the guise of Astral Pilot. It's a twelve-minute outing of bouncy techno that's a lot of fun and would probably get huffed out of Very Important techno circles but is so Very Sven Väth – especially of this period – so who gives a hoot?

Rudy Adrian - The Healing Lake

White Cloud: 2000

It's wonderful that so many CDs are available on the Discogs marketplace, but shipping costs have grown exceedingly brutal in recent years. It's gotten to the point where even if you want only one item from a seller, you kinda' feel obligated getting more just to make the postal fees worth the purchase. Which is fine and dandy if said seller has a robust selection to choose from, but that's not always the case. Yes, in one of the quirkier aspects of music collecting, not everyone's tastes line up one-to-one. In fact, there may be only a singular artist where common ground is met, interests radically diverging from that point on.

So it seemed with this particular seller. I wanted a Neotantra CD off him, but browsing the rest of his catalogue, didn't see much else that triggered my curiosity. Some other ambient releases from the likes of Oöphoi, Popol Vuh, and Ishq. Prog rock options like King Crimson, Mastadon, and, uh, Van Der Graaf Generator. Some other stuff with titles like At The Speed Of Light Or Day, Double Nickels On The Dime, and Evolution Of JazzRaptor. Again, potentially all stuff I may vibe on, but I wasn't feeling particularly adventurous on this purchase. I still had to select something so those dastardly shipping fees were less painful though, so I rounded out the order with my usual fall-back when I'm indecisive: go with the cover art with the most blue on it. And this, my friends, was the bluest bit of cover-art by far.

Sorry for blasting through half a review going on about this, but unfortunately, I don't have much to say about Rudy Adrian. The New Zealander seems like a nice enough chap, and has maintained a tidy career these past two decades. His brand of ambient music tends to drift closer to the realms of New Age meditation music though, which unfortunately gets lost among the many, many artists who compose the stuff, often sitting lonesomely in shops selling crystals and herbal remedies to modern mystics. To say nothing of not being considered 'serious music approved by music critics', beyond the occasional thrown bone of a “New Age music is not all bad, actually” article. Existing for half a century, and still can't get any respect.

And while I'd love for The Healing Lake to have somehow been an undiscovered gem transcending its genre, no, it's about what you'd expect of this stuff. Released earlier in Rudy's career, it has all the hallmarks of ambient music perfectly suited for deep meditation or massage therapy. There is some progression as pieces play out, but can just as easily fade into the background of whatever activity you're doing as it plays. Steady synth tones and drones mostly dominate, with sporadic sprinklings of woodwinds and spritely electronics, invoking moods mysterious and calming. It's the perfect soundtrack for losing oneself in the stillness of remote naturalistic settings, preferably some lost mountain lake as the sun rises over the surrounding canopy.

Electric Deluxe - Electric Deluxe

Plus 8 Records: 2000/2021

So I bought Speedy J's Bandcamp catalogue. Yes, the whole thing, all thirty-two items, every single. A bit excessive perhaps, as I can't claim to be a die-hard fan of Jochem Paap's output. Still, with his first twenty years worth of solo catalogue finally online, I may as well take the full plunge. Naturally, this means I'll be reviewing every- okay, not every single release. Not much point in doing Ginger, G-Spot (&!ive), and Loudboxer again.

And as is tradition with this blog, I am not starting off this comprehensive dive into Speedy J's discography with a Speedy J record – never anything straight-forward at EMC, nosiree! Instead, by alphabetical decree, that honour goes to Electric Deluxe, a one-off alias for a one-off single. Not that such an act was unprecedented in Jochem's career, a few such aliases in his early years (Tune, The Second Wave). This one came out at a weird time for it though, during another of his frequent transitions from one form of techno to another.

Again, what I write is often supposition based on easily available facts. Seeing this single emerge under a fresh alias right before Speedy J's Loudboxer era though, has me wondering just how confident he was about going that route. Electric Deluxe has all the hallmarks of Mr. Paap's turn towards hard, bangin' minimalist techno, but that's not what his regular Speedy J output was doing at the time. A Shocking Hobby was aggressive in its own right, but more in a broken beat, IDM sort of way. Throughout much of the '90s, the Speedy one was known for 'intelligent techno', and the works of Adam Beyer and Chris Liebing were not.

Still, those jocks were making some respectable bank touring that sound, and Jochem may have been itching to finally get properly paid for all his efforts. Thus, test the market a little with a fresh alias on an old, reliable Detroit label (well, Windsor), and if things turn out fine, go whole hog with the primary alias.

I have to assume it worked out, Electric Deluxe's success not only convincing Jochem this was the path to take, but the single doing respectable business on the and DJ mix CD market too – everyone from Ken Ishii to Sven Väth to Kai Tracid (!) to DJ Montana of Black Hole Recordings (!?) got in on it.

And why not? Electric Deluxe is mint peak-time techno business (Business Techno? Good God, no), a relentless seven-minute assault of building, percolating rhythms, with a little requisite flange and siren effects thrown in at the climax. Certainly a far cry from the days of De-Orbit and The Oil Zone, but definitely right in the lane of what 4am bangin' techno was up to at the turn of the century. Glitch pummels even harder while getting deeper into a supporting drone tone, while Glitch 2 keeps the focus on the beats, dirty and crunchy. Nothing fancy, just the way techno at the time liked it.

Various - Classic Rave 2

Moonshine Music: 2000

It was the Year 2000, and the first nostalgic pangs of rave's early years was hitting everyone's memory membranes. Or Moonshine was just looking for another genre to corner in their relentless output of compilations and DJ mixes. Perhaps both, though probably more the latter.

For sure there would always be some reason for some label to trot out another round of licence-friendly 'classics', but there wasn't a super-high demand for it either. Rather, such discs were more for the impulse buyer, a dude or dudette glancing over a track list, recognizing a tune or three they didn't already have, and going from there. For the record, the tunes in my case were Orbital's Chime, Felix's Don't You Want Me, and The Good Men's Give It Up. No shame.

I can't deny my recollection of just how pervasive 'classic rave' CDs had become by the turn of the century is hazy – I'd imagine more so in the UK than anywhere in the Americas. And to be fair, Moonshine's Classic Rave series wasn't specifically meant to be just about old-school hardcore. Rather, a whole run of Classic [Genre] was planned, kicking off not just with a Classic Rave, but a Classic Acid too (oh look, three Hardfloor tracks you already got!). Unfortunately, the Electronic Music Classics run sputtered before it really got started, this Classic Rave 2 thrown out with little fanfare before the series folded. Going by the selection of tracks on here, it's easy to see why.

Like I said, I got this mainly for three out of the eleven tracks, which is a fair when paying used shop prices for a CD. Give It Up has always been a guilty pleasure, and Chime is Chime. D'at Felix track though, one of the earliest examples of Rollo's penchant for big synth chord anthems, and steering Hooj Choons down the prog-house road we all love and adore (well, some did). Others I'd heard about, but hadn't heard yet, so figured Classic Rave 2 a handy pick-me-up for a knowledge drop. Let's go over those tracks now!

2 Bad Mice's Bombscare: definitely an important record in establishing Moving Shadow's footprint in the proto-jungle scene, but I've heard better. Acen's Close Your Eyes: definitely on that 'Prodigy: Phase 1' tip, but I prefer Trip II The Moon. X-Press 2's London X-Press: wow, they were able to sustain a career into the new century with this run-of-the-mill slice of New York house? N-Joi's Anthem: alright piano house with some nice string-pads, but Papillon's better. Also, what are house tracks doing on a rave compilation?

As if that wasn't enough to convince Classic Rave 2 was a slapdash afterthought from Moonshine, the chemical breaks of Electronliners' Loose Caboose and big-beat of Basco's The Beat Is Over fills out the rest. Yes, two cuts that have almost nothing to do with 'classics' or 'rave', and weren't even half a decade old yet. What, couldn't get any Praga Khan up in this warehouse?

Pete Namlook / DJ Dag - Adlernebel

Fax +49-69/450464: 2000

Pete Namlook collaborated with DJ Dag, the man who helped define trance music? Heck, he even contributed to the indispensable, quintessential Namlook tribute box-set Die Welt Ist Klang, and I somehow completely blanked on it. Right, he was using his seldom-used alias of, um, Dag Lerner (his real name), so you understand why I may not have made the connection.

More so, this is a pairing that, on paper, happened far too late. Dag's profile was at its peak when Fax+ was finding its footing, Dance 2 Trance getting published on one of the biggest eurodance labels of the time, Blow Up. Despite Pete's print being something of a common ground for all electronic music makers to convene and collaborate, I doubt it was high on Mr. Lerner's mind to do so. Time carries on though, and while DJ Dag's career never cratered, he certainly wasn't mentioned in the same breath as all the hot, new trance jocks of the millennium's turn. A legacy act, if you will. Which is about the perfect time to hook up with that Namlook fella' and see what creative juices may blossom from such a session!

I have no idea what anyone expected of this pairing way back when. They couldn't possibly have thought it would sound 'contemporary' to the tastes of trance music in the year 2000, could they? Both these chaps were resolutely old-school when it came to their craft, so hearing something so early '90s retro shouldn't have been much of a surprise. Then again, who was this release even for, beyond the Fax+ faithful? Certainly not clubland at large, though I'm sure Dag would have rinsed out at least couple tunes off here. Maybe Talla 2XLC as well.

Raum Und Zeit, The West Is The Best, and Pure Energy are as vintage of 'proper' trance tunes as I've ever heard, distilled and purified from the year 1992 and not a month later. Meanwhile, Dagar treads closer to Namlook's brand of spaced-out, loopy trance (with additional wolf howls maintaining Dag's continued nods to Native American activism), while the remaining cuts are charming chill tunes. Who cares if they'd never have a hope of being playlisted by Paul Oakenfold or any of the Dutch dudes? This is the music Pete and Dag wanted to make for themselves and that's all that matters, gosh darn it all.

Yet, as I played Adlernebel, a curious notion crossed my mind: what does it matter in modern times when this was released? True, electronic music evolution was explosive throughout the '90s, but that was honestly only important as it was happening. The gap between 1992 and 2000 is paltry from our vantage point. These days, genres have became sated and stagnant – the difference between a 2012 and 2020 trance release is almost negligible. So a year 2000 trance album sounds like a 1992 trance album. Us old-schoolers would kill for a 2021 trance album to sound like a 1992 trance album! Anyhow, food for thought.

Bent - Programmed To Love

Sport: 2000

Just how popular was Bent at the start? Though Misters Tolliday and Mills had been active throughout the '90s ('Nail' had roots as far back as Nottingham's DiY 'free tekno' parties of yore), as a duo they seemingly sprung up out of nowhere. A couple EPs, a little hype in an increasingly over-saturated chill-out market, then boom, a perfect score for Programmed To Love within the pages of Muzik Magazine. Surely that's plenty 'nuff to get the majors buzzing. I don't see any chart info in their Wiki though, to say nothing of Bent being a near non-factor on my side of the pond. For sure they must have been doing something right to get all that compilation action at the turn of the century, but had it not been an accidental stumbling-upon of Muzik, it's possible I'd completely miss them for several years (Faithless' Back To Mine appearance notwithstanding).

It may just be that Bent was a tad too British in its sense of humour at the start for American appeal. Now, I likes me some British humour in my laid-back house jams - what would The Orb be without it? And really, if you're not getting some Orb vibes right off the jump in Exercise 1, what with cheeky samples and dubby grooves setting us up for a gently warped little ride of an album, then... um, go listen to some old-school Orb, I guess? For comparison's sake. Welly Top Mary has me feelin' some of that reggae-dub house sound many a Youth-orientated Orb cut kicked out, but that's about the extent of it.

Elsewhere, there's Ninja Tune influence at play. You got the jazz-hop bop of Invisible Pedestrian, the funky shuffle-dub of I Remember Johnny, and the quirky toy-town trip-hop of Private School Investigations (relegated to 'secret song' status on the original UK version). And let's not forget the tunes that simply defy easy categorization beyond “well, that sure is a fun little tune”. Cylons In Love imagines, well, cylons strumming an acoustic-folky to... something. I can't understand those digitized vocals, but hot damn, is that bassline ever a deeper shade of love. Follow-up Invisible Pedestrian sounds like a lounge-lizard performing at a Callisto casino, while Irritating Noises goes country twang. Okay, not full-blown country twang, but I can't help but imagine some cowboy strumming a guitar while riding his horse down an old country road.

But honestly, all these are surprising, tasty supplements to the main reasons folks nabbed up Programmed To Love. The dreamy pastoral chill-pop of Private Road. The fragile, cinematic grace of Swollen. Zoë Johnston's providing vocals on each, basically debuting her voice to a whole slew of future trance producers. And, as always, Always, the utterly dreamy slice of Balearic house (somehow topped by Ashley Beedle's rub on it a year later!). A perfect tune to end the album on... followed upon by a slapstick nod to old-school rave with silly monkey squeals. Oh, these gents with their bent humour.

Tom Tom Club - The Good The Bad And The Funky

Rykodisc: 2000

Tom Tom Club, then. A band that succeeded in spite of factors pointing to, at best, a quirky footnote in the Talking Heads tale. Succeed they did though, where to this day (well, pre-COVID at least), Tina Weymouth and Chris Frantz continued to tour, well into their '60s. Wait, an aging legacy band, with summery music influenced by the Caribbean? Are we sure we're not dealing with a Jimmy Buffet project?

Oh hell, no! How dare I even imply such a connection. Tom Tom Club are forever funky purveyors of Jamaican jam, New York City groove, and disco soul, whereas Jimmy Buffet is... all the opposite of that. Someone just screamed, probably.

I'll get into details regarding Tom Tom Club's creation and influence when I cover their self-titled debut, so let's fast-forward nearly two decades from there, all the way into The Year 2000. Tina and Chris mostly kept the Tom Tom band around as something to do whenever David Byrne would go gallivanting his solo career, which was quite often as the years went on. Eventually David officially disbanded Talking Heads, and though the remaining band members tried carrying on as The Heads, it failed in capturing the same energy without their eccentric lead singer on hand. So, back to Tom Tom Club Tina and Chris went, with a tour that turned out remarkably well after the disappointing Heads experiment. They were so energized by this tour that they hit the studio again, The Good The Bad And The Funky the result. It would be their last album of original material.

Heh, no, it didn't deep-six their careers or anything like that – again, continual tours. I think, however, they simply felt there was nothing left to prove, a legacy intact, a back-catalogue that more than justified itself without needing more added. Not to mention the unfortunate 2001 death of singer Charles Pettigrew, whom been added as an official member of Tom Tom Club during this time, likely left a sombre after-effect on the project.

*whew* That's a mouthful, but how's the music on tGtBatF? It's certainly good, nothing really bad, and definitely funky. Reggae dub and ska generally dominates throughout, with a couple nods to disco and soul in songs like Who Feelin' It, Holy Water, and Let There Be Love. It's all well produced with touches of quirk keeping things on a carefree vibe. Something keeps nagging me though, wondering who exactly this music is for. Tom Tom Club fans obviously, but was there any intent of reaching beyond that audience? There isn't much here that would lure a newer audience, no matter how many wicki-wicki scratches or funky dubs they throw in.

Except for instrumental Lesbians By The Lake. I almost did a double-take, thinking it some long-lost Gorillaz g-side. Which may not be too far from the truth, as Dan The Automator provided a rub on Happiness Can't Buy Money. Returning the favour, Tina sang backing vocals on 19-2000. It's a small world after all.

Bone Thugs-N-Harmony - BTNHResurrection

Sony Music Entertainment: 2000

Feels like I've come full circle with- Ah, nope, not doing that bit again! Still, strange bit of circumstance that as we near this project's inevitable endpoint, I'm reviewing another act that kicked things off so long ago. Pretty sure it's the last of these – I don't have Yes' Captured Live lurking in the wings.

Anyhow, this was the CD that got me hooked on Bone Thugs, almost entirely due to one track. I'd heard their stuff before, thought it interesting for being so different with the double-time raps and harmonized choruses. BTNHResurrection convinced me these Cleveland chaps were operating on a totally different wavelength from contemporary gangstas though. All them others be rapping about getting drunk or stoned or crunk off PCP, but were any of them rapping about getting high off ecstasy? Not as heard on the track Ecstasy, and to a young raver such as I, it blew my mind. I don't know if these Thugs actually indulged in the ol' MDMA, but they sure captured the floaty, loved-up feeling of a good gurn in it, even if some of the lyrics turn weirdly violent at times. Ah, good ol' paranoia from a different kind of trip.

Still, one dope track isn't enough to make a fan of me (most of the time), but BTNHResurrection had plenty more going for it that convinced me these Bone brothers were worth scoping out further. Right from the drop in Show 'Em, they go into the swinging thug-hop, dropping verses as only Bone Thugs can. And hey, Flesh-N-Bone is here! Due to label nonsense, the fifth member of the group only sporadically appeared on prior albums. He gets plenty of space to show his verbal skills here, spitting on nearly every track. Remarkably, he kinda' sounds like Eazy-E, which is only fitting where Bone Thugs are concerned. Shame he'd be incarcerated shortly after this album's release, once again becoming just a mythical fifth member.

So you have your crime-riddin', gun toting street raps (2 Glocks, Murder One, Battlezone), the gettin' money raps (Resurrection (Paper, Paper), Can't Give It Up, Mind On Our Money), and the obligatory weed song (The Weed Song). There's also surprising reflection and future optimism here, as on tracks like, Change The World and Don't Worry, which would have been perfect cuts to end the album on. Unfortunately, three more tunes follow, none of which are bad but hobbles BTNHResurrection's play-through. Ending on a bonus cut of Bizzie Bone getting his mack on with One Night Stand just doesn't leave as lasting impression when compared to the double-shot of Mo' Murda and Shotz To Tha Double Glock on E. 1999 Eternal leaving you cold chillin'.

Re-arrange a few tracks, maybe cut a couple (Souljahs Marching feels redundant no matter what), and you'd have a record talked up just as fondly as any of Bone Thugs' '90s output. Sadly, bad management hobbled Bone Thugs' career in the following decade, and the group's been but a footnote since.

Del Tha Funkee Homosapien - Both Sides Of The Brain

Hiero Imperium: 2000

Widely regarded as the kick-off to what would be Phase II of Del's career. Okay, maybe you could point to the Hieroglyphics debut 3rd Eye Vision as the proper kick-off. Come to think of it, didn't his actual Phase II drop with No Need For Alarm? Or would I Wish My Brother George Was Here be pre-Crisis Del? I'm getting too many of these comic book analogies mixed up. Let me backtrack.

Both Sides Of The Brain came out in the year 2000. The following year, Deltron 3030 dropped, Gorillaz right behind. And with 3rd Eye Vision being out just prior, you can say Del'amania was running wild at the turn of the century. All this while being fully independent too, the Hiero crew among the first rap conglomerates to truly take advantage of a blossoming internet, exclusive content only available through their website. The CDs had better distribution than that, but with the advent of file-sharing, Del's newest material made its way across the globe to such a degree even his old label Elektra couldn't have imagined. Like, if they had, they wouldn't have dumped him so unceremoniously in the first place.

For those who were just discovering Del, Both Sides Of The Brain was about as perfect a summation to the chap's approach to hip-hop as they could hope for. Whether being known as among the best of the battle-rappers, or having one of the funniest outlooks on the ridiculousness of his surroundings, this album provides it all. I mean, the second track on here is If You Must, a tune literally about all the stinky people he's had to deal with, and super-catchy to boot. You'll never hear as many different ways of describing foul human odours as on this cut. Oh, and if you're down with the dorky side of Del, there's also Proto Culture, where he and Khoas Unique go on about classic video games. Handy way of getting a good word in for future Tony Hawk consideration.

If You Must aside, the first half mostly has Del spouting off about the rap industry while showing off his Jaw Gymnastics. On the other half, tracks like Style Police, BM's, and Soopa Feen have more fun with their topics. I almost want to put Skull & Crossbones in with that group, but Del seems deadly serious about the perils of drinking and driving on that one.

I could go on and on about all the stuff Del's rapping about, and rightfully so since he's a rap artist, but man, how can I ignore all these dope beats? There's so much going on here too, I could eat up a whole review's worth. Heck, Pet Peeves alone is over seven minutes long, with three totally different segments tying it together. Then you get production from Prince Paul, El-P (fresh off his seminal work with Company Flow), the usual assortment of in-house Hiero cats... All killer, no filler in this seventeen tracker, my friends.

The Micronauts - Bleep To Bleep

Science: 2000

This was one of those CDs that seemed sat in every store. For the life of me, I can't understand why. Or rather, I get 'how' it ended up in music retailers and pawn shops, just not why The Micronauts got such a significant promotional push in the first place. Certainly nothing on this here debut mini-album would suggest a huge cross-over event in the making, this music brash and noisy, like some kind of put-on by misters Christophe Monier and George Issakidis (who left the duo shortly after Bleep To Bleep's release).

Digging around their Discoggian data, they had a respectable run of items leading up to this, both as The Micronauts and in other ventures. I distinctly recall hearing their acid stomper single The Jazz in a Chemical Brothers mix CD. Christophe had a tidy run with Pascal R as Impulsion, getting in on that stompin' acid and hard house that was quite popular with French producers in the back half the '90s. It also seems that Lord Discogs really loves tying these guys with that scene, throwing about recommendations for Daft Punk and Cassius. Hm, it's coming together, the Micronauts story: promising single, associated with the big movers and shakers of the era... How could the mighty Virgin not sign these guys, though I'm not sure if the label had the utmost confidence in them. Nay, better to shuffle them off to a sub-label, like that Science print that was a dumping ground for Photek and Source Direct records.

Even partial Virgin promotion was enough to get onto a tonne of store shelves though. So there it sat, a quirky little item on the slightly cheaper end of CDs, being a mini-album and all. A few curious glances are thrown its way, wondering what that might be, what with no names or titles on the cover art. Some might recognize the name on the spine from singles like The Jag or Get Funky Get Down, but none of that is on here. A few, daring souls decide to give this a demo spin anyways, their reward an assault of hard house beats, garish acid, and a cacophony of electro noise. Good gracious, whatever is this racket?

Baby Wants To Bleep, in all its permutations on this CD, almost feels like a joke. Like, The Micronauts wanted to make the most obnoxious sounds they could within acid house's parameters, extending it into a sort of jam session in the process. It's rather fascinating in of itself, and could even be pointed at as a precursor to the Ed Banger aesthetic that would come to dominate much of French techno half a decade later. Trying to come into this blind, however, would almost certainly turn folks off. Not to mention one of the longest tracks, Bleeper_0+2, is just a noise experiment no one with any aspiration of commercial intent would dare put on an album. Time to hunker the project down then, let the rest of clubland catch up.

HIA & Biosphere - Birmingham Frequencies

Headphone: 2000/2019

Bobby Bird had tagged with Geir Jenssen to the Norwegian's remote hometown for the Polar Sequences performance, which creatively turned out quite well for the two. I'm assuming, then, that the man behind HIA told the man behind Biosphere that should he ever find himself in his own Birmingham hood, he should check out his crib for another collaborative project. Two years after that Tromsø trip, Geir indeed found himself in the birthplace of ambient dub, so off with Bobby he went for another session of field recordings trips and music making magic.

Only... what sort of sounds would Mr. Jenssen gather? Birmingham is a rather stark contrast of location compared to the cold tundras that had come to define Biosphere's realm of sonic influence. Heck, even for a British town, Birmingham doesn't seem terribly interesting. I looked for it on a map, finding it stuck between where all the cool music locations are (to its north, the Big Three cities of the midlands; London to its south-east). I'm sure there's been a few famed names from there (Steve Lawler, Duran Duran, ELO ...UB40? Erm, no), but judging by the Google Earth images of industrial, brutalist architecture, it doesn't surprise me that budding musicians fled the city as fast as they could. Which makes the fact something like the ambient dub scene of the early '90s could even blossom in such a place all the more remarkable.

So out and about Birmingham Bird and Jenssen went, collecting samples and sounds such as geese in a river, building alarms, the reverb and echo of channel tunnels, and... Okay, what exactly are they doing in Augusta Road? It sounds like they grabbed a large stick and dragged it along wooden planks, which is amusing for a little, but did I really need to hear it to the extent we do here? Still, the sound of rummaging through brush, with it being manipulated in such a way that it becomes almost like white noise static, is a nifty little sonic trick. Plus, this track has one of the best examples of the two's unique styles playing off each other, an ultra-minimalist outing where Biosphere's echoing dub pulses serves as the rudder for HIA's playful dub bleeps to ride, and that's all. Just a shame about that obnoxiously loud tree-branch thingy.

There's only six proper tracks here (Daddylonglegs is but a pure field recordings interlude), wherein two apiece offer differing examples of music making. The aforementioned Augusta Road and Narrowboat do the minimalist thing, whereas Gas Street Basin and Midpoint have brisk HIA rhythms, with less featured samples driving things along. Cannon Hill and The Rotunda, on the other hand, sound more organic, especially with jazzier percussion in the latter and gentle acoustic guitar strums in the former. In fact, given how urban and claustrophobic much of Birmingham Frequencies comes across, Cannon Hill in contrast almost sounds pastoral. Well, until HIA's clickity rhythms enter. Gotta' let ol' Bobby get his stuff in, amirite?

Various - Better Living Through Circuitry

Moonshine Music: 2000

I haven't seen this documentary, by the by. Just seemed like redundant information from my end. I'm sure there were little details included that I didn't know, but for the most part, I was quite up to speed with the ins and outs of American rave culture when Better Living Through Circuitry was released. I'd watched the movies Go and Groove, after all!

Jokes aside, this isn't meant to be a humble-brag or anything on my part. 'Rave' as a thing in the Americas was only a decade old (holy cow!), and for half that time, I'd been digging and prodding into as much as I could despite my geographical handicap. Regular pilgrimages to the Holy Land of Electronica CDs helped (re: music shops in Vancouver like A & B Sound, Virgin Megastore, Sam The Record Man, etc.), while media like spotlight showcases on MuchMusic and the magazine Mixer rounded things out. Plus a little thing called The Internet, that clued me in on a bunch of things too.

Still, the end of the '90s saw quite the surge in interest from newcomers, and a little DVD documentary bringing such folk up to speed wasn't such a daft idea. In fact, Better Living Through Circuitry was being promoted as the first ever documentary to summarize just what all this raving business was on about! Well, the first in America, maybe. Europe had been making such docs since the early '90s, but then club culture had reached popular saturation there well before it ever did in the Americas (sans some pockets among coastal cities).

Anyhow, a soundtrack was released in conjuction with it, because you can't talk about a culture based around rave music without some actual rave music playing. Some of the artists they interviewed get tunes in (Genesis P. Orridge's Psychic TV, Keoki, Roni Size), while the rest is about what you'd expect to hear on the West Coast of the US at the time. Lots of acid, breaks, d'n'b and... The Future Sound Of London's Expander? Not that I mind hearing it again, but seems a bit random a tune to have as representative of rave music in America.

Is it because the documentary was financed by Cleopatra Records, and insisted upon having some of their licensed music in? Yeah, that tracks. Also, how amazing is it that not only did Cleopatra release the DVD, but Moonshine Music released the CD? That's, like, the two biggest underground curators of '90s rave music in America combining forces! I don't know what a contemporary comparison would be.

All in all, Better Living Through Circuitry (the CD) is a nice little time capsule of a bygone era, when raving was still no bigger than a curious counter-culture movement (snippets of interviews from the doc help). Playing this won't help you 'understand' it any more than watching the documentary would, but hey, FSOL, Meat Beat, Roni Size, Keoki, The Crystal Method, Psychic TV, DJ Spooky, Überzone, and Electric Skychurch, all in one place, armirite?

Gas - Nah Und Fern: Pop

Mille Plateaux/Kompakt: 2000/2008

(a Patreon Request from Omskbird)

One of some dozen ambient albums you're supposed to have, particularly if you're not a fan of ambient music. Naturally, as someone who considers himself a connoisseur of the genre, such a consensus had me a little skeptical of Pop's adulation. It's no small task in paring a scene as long lasting and expansive as this one down to a select few Must Haves, the standouts demanding something truly unique to stand out from the glut of releases.

So when I gave Pop a whirl, I thought to myself, yeah, there's some nice sounding tones, looping samples into an otherworldly atmosphere one can easily lose their headspace in. Isn't this a style already covered by the likes of Zoviet France and Rapoon though? Maybe so, but I'm sure folks checking out the fourth Gas album on the basis of a glowing Pitchfork recommendation weren't the sort to have delved into industrial ambient's back catalogue. Still, I couldn't help but wonder why it was Wolfgang Voigt's project that got such attention from the indie sect, and I could only surmise it being out on Mille Plateaux, a label already gaining hipster cred from its clicks 'n' cuts series of glitch releases. Throw in the cheeky concept of this being a 'pop' album, so named from the choice of orchestral samples being on the lighter side of the music, and you've crafted quite the cocktail of indie swoon.

Such knee-jerk dismissals on my part should have no bearing on how this album holds up though, with plenty of time and distance from initial reactions. To which I say, for the most part, I enjoy this, and even manages to stand distinct from countless other ambient records released since that emulate the otherworldly warmth crafted here (and believe me, there's been plenty). I could leave the first two tracks off Pop, in that those clicky-hissy noises that serve as a pseudo-rhythm do nothing but grate on my senses, almost token throw-away glitch sounds required of a Mille Plateaux release. What are those anyway, money counting machines pitched way up? Just lay the layers of looping drone on me like a warm blanket, Wolf-mang!

Or hey, offer up some of those dubbed-out rhythms, though I'm glad to hear Mr. Voigt found a way to change those up some too, having grown a tad stale by Königsforst. Thus Pop IV features a looping rhythm that cheerfully bounces with an echoing bell tone. Elsewhere, we have the 'classic' Gas dub techno rhythm for the final fifteen-minute closer, lending the track a surprisingly grand atmosphere following all that drone. Pop music indeed.

Could I recommend other ambient albums over this? Yeah, probably, but if you're just getting your feet wet, Pop is as good of an entry point as any for getting a feel of the genre's myriad styles. I have no contention in seeing this appear on 'Best Of' lists. Just, y'know, don't act surprised when I don't include it my own mythical 'Best Of' list.

David Bridie - Act Of Free Choice

EMI: 2000

(a Patreon Request from Omskbird)

I won't deny, I'm feeling torn over where to take this review. The normal, traditional, expectant thing is to write up my version of a biographical Wiki regarding David Bridie's career, with some detailing of the music within this album. Yet, I feel compelled to dive deeper into the album's title, Act Of Free Choice. This is no simple play on words as a record shop eye-catcher, but an actual, significant event, so-called with the bitter taste of irony on one's tongue.

Granted, it's not something many folks will know about, but if you know your Indonesian politics, it's pretty significant. Why yes, I've had more than a passing interest in the history of the archipelago nation. At first it was just a geological aspect, primarily the famous 1883 Krakatau event, then the region's other various massive volcanoes and eruptions. Then you learn more about the people who live there, their histories, the colonial history, and so on and so on.

Cutting centuries of story short, when the newly-formed Indonesian country gained its independence and started rounding up the thousands of distinct island cultures into one, unified nation, New Guinea was something of a hold-out. Highly abbreviating the circumstance, the vote to join Indonesia was held by some one-thousand people supposedly and specifically selected by the Indonesian military, making the unanimous decision seem a little queer in just how much of an 'act of free choice' the vote really was. It's a dispute that persists to this day, with indigenous folks to the island still protesting for their independence from Indonesia.

Thus, it's no small coincidence Mr. Bridie would choose such a title for his debut album. Indeed, he's among a small number of Australian musicians who show no qualms about getting political with their art (hi, Midnight Oil!), especially when it concerns the plights of downtrodden cultures in their region of the world. That all said, I can't claim that Act Of Free Choice is super explicit in its depictions of this issue. In fact, many these songs just as easily interpreted as reflections of one's sombre mood at any given time of depression. I'd have to study the lyrics more to be certain, but only a couple of these songs have lyrics posted (that I can find). And to be honest, this is such a melancholic album, I'm not sure I want to spend much time with it anyway.

For sure Mr. Bridie is a good song-writer with a delicate touch in uses of sparse piano, echoing guitars, and dramatic orchestral swells. When there are rhythms driving things forward, they're mostly the sort of uptempo trip-hop beats you'd find used in soundtracks (which makes sense, given David's ample body of score work). It all sounds very rich and artful, but just brings my whole mood down after listening to it. Not in a savoury sort of way either. Can you blame me for being more drawn to the historical context of the album's title? Other people's issues are easier to deal with than my own.

Various - Back To Mine: Faithless

DMC/Ultra Records: 2000/2001

Tapping superstar DJs to helm a new compilation mix series is all well and good, but how many superstar chill-out DJs were there, really? The dudes from The Orb, Mixmaster Morris, and a couple others, probably. No, the truly famed acts within this scene remain the producers, and DMC was quick in steering their fresh Back To Mine outings towards the names responsible for creating the tracks heard all over downtempo discs and U.K. mall radios. Groove Armada was the first (because of course), followed by the somewhat surprising choice of Faithless. Yeah, the group was one of the biggest commercial successes at the time, and certainly their album material had plenty of laid-back tunes, but they were primarily known for their mega club anthems. Not exactly on the tips of everyone's earlobes when wanting to wind down, is what I'm getting at.

Still, Back To Mine wasn't intended for the typical punter demographic, and for folks who may have preferred Faithless songs like Flowerstand Man and Hour Of Need over God Is A DJ (*cough*), this would be right up their ally. For Rollo and Sister Bliss, who curated this collection of post-clubbing cuts, felt it a great chance to show off the dusty soul records in their libraries. Aaron Neville is here! Pauline Taylor is here! Tindersticks is here! Mazzy Star is here! Dido is here! Wait, Dido is soul? Well, Brit-soul, but yeah, of course Rollo's sister would be here. She even opens the whole set, though I cannot deny her soft, lonesome croon does create the perfect mood for where Faithless takes us after.

Right into Dusted's Childhood, and mang', let me tell you, this track alone sold me on the album that came out shortly after, enough to at least give it a curious listen. It's like, Faithless, but also not! And then I discovered it kinda' was! Oh, and don't worry, folks. Aside from using Sunday 8PM (from the album of the same name) as a transitional track later on, Rollo and Bliss are done with the self-promotion.

Elsewhere, the duo work in some deep house vibes (Marshall Jefferson's Mushrooms), some garage vibes (Adamski's Never Goin' Down), some funk vibes (Alex Gopher's The Child), and Balearic vibes (Bent's I Love My Man). Really, about the only tune that feels starkly out of place is Paperclip People's Throw, the Carl Craig tech-house jam rather abrasive and too darn long compared to everything else on here. Sure can't play that on the work radio, darn it all. But hey, what's a 'personal record showcase' without a cheeky tune or two? Speaking of, having a crusty, reggae-dub cover of Billie Jean as your capper is a most delectable bit of cheek indeed.

Clearly, I adore Faithless' contribution to Back To Mine, and find it one of the finest CDs of downtime music in my library. I eagerly awaited the next volume but unfortunately, things would go a little screwy with the series on my side of the pond.

Ringo Sheena - Shōso Strip

Virgin: 2000

(a Patreon Request from Philoi)

I think we all have to come to grips that I'm woefully unqualified to talk about Japanese pop music with any sort of authoritative perspective. Yeah, I can appreciate, and even enjoy it, at a basic, superficial aesthetic level (sounds do good things on brain, me likey!), but I've no real insights or analysis to provide from the experience. Beyond what a couple Wiki links of information can offer (y'know, collegiate level research), there's very little I can explore or detail regarding the cultural impact of such music.

Like, I can get proper-deep regarding rave music, as I've been part of, digested, consumed, and researched nearly all facets of it for a quarter of a century now (a significant portion of my life indeed). And while I've covered other music genres or scenes I'm not so involved with (your alternative rock, your jazz-bop, your country twang), they're at least still prevalent enough in my sphere of the globe that I know enough about them via cultural osmosis. It's incredibly rare that mass market music from other (non English-speaking) artists ever had much impact here, no matter how successful they may have been elsewhere.

It's almost entirely thanks to the power of global social media that we've started seeing actual cultural cross-over in the Americas from the mega-stars of Japan and Korea. Even as I type this, my localized Twitter feed is blowing up about Wonho leaving MONSTA X (everything else is Halloween stuff). Let's face it, a newer, younger generation has discovered something they know their parents just won't understand. What better rebel music than music that's not even Caucasian, amirite? Nah, guy, there's just a lot of East Asian transplants in Vancouver.

Anyhow, Ringo Sheena (or Shiina Ringo, if you're Discoggian) turned quite a few heads upon her debut, a teenage wonder-kid who fused noisy Western rock with noisy Japanese rock, presented in that spiffy, over-the-top j-pop stylee everyone just thinks all Japanese pop music sounds like. Sales proved her a potential break-out star that could possibly make it big overseas, thus was immediately signed to the mighty Virgin empire, the quick follow-up Shōso Strip the result.

Almost too quickly, apparently, as the budding star felt the tracklist was too similar to her debut. I can dig that, as I felt like I was listening to Muzai Moratorium all over again with this one. Yeah, there's a few additional wrinkles here and there (ooh, techno thump-thumps in 浴室) and the song-writing comes off more polished than the first – the chaotic production is focused and targeted. Yet I still had to double-check I was listening to the correct album a couple times, unsure whether it was the first or second (didn't help my digital player couldn't convert kanji properly).

And sadly, I can't give any deeper analysis than that. As mentioned, I simply don't connect to this music beyond the superficial. Y'all would be better served listening to the Spotify link for your own conclusions.

BT - Movement In Still Life

ZYX Music: 2000

(a Patreon Reqest from Omskbird)

And thank goodness it's a request for the original UK version, not the busted-ass American version. I've let my dislike of Movement In Still Life: US Edition known, but I cannot reiterate enough just how much that version turned me off from BT's future output. Like, the cover shot alone felt confrontational to a connoisseur of the clubbing underground, Mr. Transeau pretty-boy mugging suggesting a run with boy-band fame and fortune. Throw in the fact tracks were neutered to pop-friendly lengths, plus lacking two of my hotly anticipated BT cuts at the time (Hip Hop Phenomenon and Fibonacci Sequence), and you can understand my utter bewilderment after my first playthrough. For a release that was clearly executive managed for max North American appeal, it had the exact opposite effect for yours truly. Epic fail, yo'!

When I heard an alternate, original version existed across the Atlantic Ocean, I knew, unheard, it was the superior cut of the album. Then global internet forums compared notes, confirming my suspicion of just how shafted American BT fans were on Movement In Still Life: Inferior Version. Unless some of y'all liked the US edition. For the love of me, I cannot imagine why. Too much awesome to handle in the UK edition?

That all said, it was many years before I got around to hearing Movement In Still Life: UK Edition, for no better reason than it was too expensive to import. In fact, it wasn't until I started revisiting some of BT's earlier albums for this blog that I finally checked it out, and wouldn't you know it, I quite enjoyed what I heard! Hip Hop Phenomenon is here! The Sasha collaboration Ride is here! The Paul van Dyk collaboration Namistai is here! The full-length versions of Godspeed, Dreaming, Mercury & Solace and Running Down The Way Up are here! Andy Gray is here! Wait, what?

Superior songs and superior cuts of tracks notwithstanding, what makes Movement In Still Life: Superior Version so good is the flowing sequencing of tunes, of which the Paul Oakenfold co-producer had a helping hand in. It supplies a fun opening of various breakbeat tuneage, nu-skool still in its infancy and BT still showing restraint in how overtly complicated he made his productions. Following Hip Hop Phenomenon, we're served up some requisite classy progressive trance, most of which holds up to this day. Fine, I'll admit I was never that big a fan of Dreaming, but mostly due to how overplayed the generic trance remixes were – the nine-minute cut here at least provides some stylish detours throughout its runtime. The final couple tracks do a decent job winding things down, with Hybrid lending their breakbeat science to BT's non-abusive stutter effects, and Satellite serving as a nice, mellow chill-hop closer.

Overall, Movement In Still Life: The True Version does a good job capturing what was popping in UK clubland at the turn of the century. Perhaps not as adventurous as ESCM was, but certainly more consistent throughout.