Laurent Garnier - Unreasonable Behavior

F Communications: 2000

The only Laurent Garnier album you’re supposed to have, even if you’re not a Laurent Garnier fan. For this is the one that has that one track everyone knows him by, the hit everyone expects to hear rinsed out, the anthem jocks repeatedly return to so many years after the fact. Still, it kinda’ sucks that Acid Eiffel is relegated to a bonus live disc, and rather shortened at that, but hey, all that tasty, escalating, trance-inducing 303 action, finally available in a proper LP release, and not some wacky compilation of early works. Eh, what do you mean that’s not the one track everyone knows him by? Well, they should, by god, g’ar, and gum.

Right, fine, it’s The Man With The Red Face, the techno track that reintroduced the saxophone solo to a new generation of punters. That may not seem terribly impressive at first glance, but keep in mind the instrument hadn’t seen much action in the dance industry for some time, perhaps Red Snapper’s 1995 Hot Flush it’s last big moment in the spotlight. And while you’d still find it cropping up in jazzy, downtempo circles, its utility as a showpiece in clubland was simply done and dusted, the few instances almost unanimously forgettable. Not only did Mr. Garnier resurrected it, but did so in such a memorable way that it’s been remixed and ‘covered’ many times since. Yeah, I can’t deny it’s a catchy, fun tune when dropped at peak-time – still prefer that 303 workout from Acid Eiffel though.

One classic anthem does not a great album make, though. Nay, what sets Unreasonable Behavior apart from all the other Laurent LPs is its consistency from front-to-back. This is a straight-up techno album, exploring all facets of the genre as it was by the turn of the century, with few of the stylistic indulgences Mr. Garnier allowed himself as the years went on. You get jazzy electro care of City Sphere and Cycles d’Oppositions, futuristic chill cuts like Forgotten Cuts, Communications From The Lab and Downfall, head-down 4am bangin’ shit like The Sound Of The Big Babou and Dangerous Drive, plus your requisite nods to Detroit in tunes like Greed and the supremely deep tune Last Tribute From The 20th Century. Damn, that one wouldn’t sound out of place on a Turbo compilation of the same year.

Of course, much of this is par for the course when it comes to Garnier. Having spent nearly a decade honing his craft though, Unreasonable Behavior goes down as polished and smooth as any collection of techno can. There’s none of the clunky execution some of his earliest material suffered from, nor any of the wayward experimentalism that’d come later. It’s finding ol’ Laurent at the sweet middle-ground of his career, plying all the professional tricks of his trade while maintaining intuitive techno songcraft. Heck, if any track does comes off rote, it’s The Man With The Red Face, just because it is such an obvious anthem.

Fred Everything - Under The Sun

Turbo Recordings: 2000

West coast deep house was growing mighty popular at the turn of the century, especially out here on the West coast (who knew!). And while San Francisco was generally considered the hotbed of funky, groovy chill vibes perfect for lounges and beach parties, Canada had a few talents making inroads on a scene long dominated by Chicago transplants. Fred Everything was probably the biggest of this bunch, slightly odd considering his Quebec origins, not to mention his first major record deal was with UK print 20:20 Vision. Still, his tight, loopy beatcraft fit snugly with the likes of Mark Farina and Miguel Migs, remaining a consistent presence in the deep house scene throughout the ‘00s, eventually finding a natural home with OM Records. No, wait, that deal only lasted a few years, all the while working on establishing his print with Lazy Days Recordings. That one’s lasted a little longer (to this day, in fact), though Fred’s output has slowed as of late (edit: but with quite the uptick this past year!). He’s still truckin’ along though, never abandoning the deep house vibe that defined his early success.

Speaking of that early success, here’s Mr. Everything’s first full-length effort, Under The Sun. Naturally this came out on 20:20 Vision, but as ol’ Fred had ties to the Montreal club scene, tastemaker Tiga was there to offer a Canadian (and thusly American) distribution deal on his trendy Turbo label. Win-win for both players involved, as Under The Sun wouldn’t get lost in cumbersome import technicalities, and Turbo could finally have its first proper album out on the market after a long run of DJ mixes (ADNY’s Selections ’97-2000 was more a compilation, if you want to get finicky technical about such things). And while I won’t complain about the geometric architecture cover photo for Turbo’s release, it does seem odd they’d replace the overhead cross-country ski race shot that made up the 20:20 Vision version. Strikes me as more authentically ‘Quebec’, is what I’m getting at, but maybe Tiga figured that was a little too on the nose for the music’s target audience. Who am I to question Tiga’s judgment, eh?

If you know anything about deep house from the early ‘00s, you’ll be familiar with Fred Everything’s sound. Sometimes he goes funkier (Let You Down, Derby, Universal Mind), other times jazzy (Without), or simply soulful (Another Soul). Nor is he beholden to a strict house rhythm, getting acid jazz shuffly on Good Morning, or having a stab at retro electro with Huggin’Kissin. And speaking of the retro, how about a touch of talk-box action in Revolution, sure to get your Daft Punk triggers flaring.

And that’s Under The Sun, a solid collection of deep, groovy vibes all about, and now a review lo-o-o-ng overdue finally finished. What, don’t you remember I promised this when going through all those Mixed Goods burned CDs of mine? That I basically lifted this album for one of them? Back in… oh wow, that was a while ago now.

ZerO One - protOtype2

Waveform Records: 2000

I suppose the prime reason I put off gathering more albums from ZerO One is familiarity. Not so much that I knew exactly what music I’d be getting from Kevin Dooley’s project, but given the rather scientific aesthetic to the name and various titles, making an educated guess of ‘bleepy downtempo’ wasn’t hard. And that’s a sound I was comfortable knowing would always be there, waiting for me should I finally indulge in it. In the meanwhile, what else is Waveform Records offering for my interest? Ooh, names like Phutureprimitive, Omnimotion, Eastern Dub Tactik… those are all strange, new, and different from what I’m familiar with – let’s check those out first! And what the hey, Waveform sure seems to like that Sounds From The Ground a lot, I should hear what they’re all about too. I had to eventually finish exploring all the other Waveform material though, and thus it has come to pass, few releases left but those trusty ZerO One albums I always knew were waiting. What, am I some player working the Waveform meat market, finally settling for the unrequited love? Perhaps so.

protOtype2 was ZerO One’s second album, released two years after his debut on Waveform. Considering third record on the label, ozOne, wouldn’t come for another seven, and the follow-up to that, sOnar, yet another half-decade from that one, protOtype2 was definitely a comparatively quick release. Mr. Dooley isn’t the most prolific producer, is what I’m saying, so either this is an album of leftovers from his self-titled debut, or he was just feeling a super-surge of creative energy as the 20th Century drew to a close. Hey, maybe he was worried about a Year 2000 Apocalypse. At least a quarter of the country was!

No, wait, there’s a bit of saxophone in here, on track two memOry. Did ZerO One want in on all that jazzy vibe Waveform was so eager in pushing around this time? After all, this is the same year they put out Kozo and Sounds From The Ground’s also kinda’ jazzy Terra Firma. Come to think of it, protOtype2 has me thinking more Sounds From The Ground than Higher Intelligence Agency, totally at odds of what I assumed this album would be.

For sure we get vintage, bleepy ambient techno scattered throughout, with occasional space pad flourishes, but this is one darn groovy dub record considering all the egg-headed décor. seArch opens with simple bleep goodness, then adds some ethnic chants and woodwind samples to the proceedings, promptly plucking the track from the ranks of ambient techno into the domain of world beat. blueShift has one sluggish, chuggish beat going for it, the sort illbient folks would approve of. thiNk could have appeared on any ol’ downtempo dub compilation of the time, and bOt has a nice tribal rhythm going for it.

And though unexpected, it’s still a nice surprise that protOtype2 dashed my admittedly narrow expectations. Better get checking those other ZerO One records, then.

Kozo - Planned Penetration

Waveform Records: 2000

This has been an album that’s long intrigued me based on cover alone. Something about the saturated blues inexplicably tugs at a strange reservoir of nostalgic endorphins I did not know existed. Packed in a family Sedan at some point in the ‘70s, casually cruising a California suburb (or Okanagan road) in search of a place to rest in that brief period in dawn’s early blue-shifted light. I have no actual memory of such an event, not even an implied dream, yet the artwork on Kozo’s debut sparks such imagery within my brainpan just the same.

And that’s not all! Studying the cover a shade longer, a different form of brain matter sparkling starts flooding, that of musical expectation. Forget the lonely suburb street with the humdrum motel – take a gander at those power lines! Coupled with the color pallette, and I’m thinking all sorts of weird, experimental, glitch techno, or fuzzy Boards Of Canada weirdness. Now obviously, this being a release on Waveform Records, such could never be the case, but it intrigued me nonetheless. Who exactly is Kozo? What music might actually be contained behind that curious cover art? Do I really want to take a gamble on a CD from Waveform’s more ‘adventurous’ period, when there’s so much tried, tested, and true grooves found elsewhere within their catalog?

That, above all else, was the reason I held out on Planned Penetration for so long, unsure of what sort of leftfield vibes I might get with this album. But I’m slowly catching up with getting Waveform’s entire discography, so it was inevitable that Kozo would find its way into my collection (Liquid Zen next, finally?). And lo’, it was true there was something quite unexpected within his debut album, though I was not prepared for what awaited me within. For you see, Kozo Ikeno is a trumpeter extraordinaire, and boy does he let his skill shine on through.

Straight up, I am utterly clueless regarding the full scale of trumpet musicianship. I know of the jazz greats (Armstrong, Gillespie, Davis, Baker), but by no means have taken in much of their work. Thus, whether Kozo’s skill on the trumpet is comparatively ace or bunk, I simply don’t know. What I can tell you, is he alternates between open and muted playing (sometimes playing off each other), mostly with a distant, hall effect in place, and in a woozy way that at times sounds weirdly flat and dissonant. He also provides his own electro and acid jazz beats in support, very minimalist stuff with a few glitch stutters thrown in for good measure. At times it sounds pretty cool and otherworldly, like I’m lost in a drugged-up dream haze of a road trip gone awry.

Mostly though, I feel I’m missing something only true students of classic jazz would understand (and have I ever been skipping that class). Once I got used to what I was hearing, Planned Penetration did grow on me, but talk about your dashed expectations.

Various - Trancespotting III

Hypnotic: 2000

A third Trancespotting! How was there enough interesting in this middling series to warrant a trilogy? And if it is so middling, why on Earth do I own this CD? Easy answer on the latter question: it came bundled in a Trancespotting box-set, titled Complete Trancespotting, released a couple years after it was clear Hypnotic had run the well dry on the concept (whatever the Trancespotting concept may be). “But wait,” proclaims thee, “for a box-set to truly be box-set worthy, there must be a minimum of four CDs in the package.” Right you be, o’ Pedantic One, which means there was a Trancespotting IV in this series. That I must review as well.

Look, the box-set was a pretty good deal, four CDs for the price of one, and I hazily knew the first volume was decent enough for a Hypnotic compilation. I figured there had to be at least another disc’s worth of good material between the remaining three to make it worth the asking price. Juno Reactor and System 7 on II, Synaesthesia on III, James Brown and Dead Or Alive on… oh. Oh dear. Trancespotting IV is one of those CDs, isn’t it.

That’s for a Newer Review from this one though. For now, we dive into Trancespotting III, a CD that already gives signs of what’s to come from this series. Yep, that’s Kelly Hansen among the featured artists, and if you don’t know who that is, you probably never bother with your classic rock station. Actually, I’m not sure if it’s the current Foreigner lead singer, but the song being sung (and remixed by Razed In Black into a plucky club anthem) is Dream Police by Cheap Trick. A couple tracks after, and we get a Mark Pistel rub of The Sweet’s Fox On The Run. Huh, that ain’t so bad, but I’ve faith any member of Meat Beat Manifesto providing the goods, even if his big-beaty remix makes zero sense on a compilation called Trancespotting. In fact, nearly a third of this CD’s taken up by big-beat action, including Filter Section’s Action-8 and Bill Leeb side-project Pro>Tech’s Recalcitrant. Surprisingly, Transmutator’s Equal Opportunity Slut doesn’t go the ‘aggrotech’ route!

But we’ve already come to expect these genre dalliances from this series, if not so overt about it. We still get some trance out of our Trancespotting deal, even if it’s an incredibly ragtag selection. We’re a long ways from Hypnotic’s glory days in the year 2000, though funny enough we do get a Talla 2XLC opener, even if it is a track from a few years past. Not so far back as Juno Reactor’s Labyrinth though, a track found on the Samurai EP, but initially lurking as a B-side to The Overlord’s 1994 single God’s Eye (as The 7th Stage (Labyrinth Mix)). The Synaesthesia cut sounds more like early Delerium mashed with Pro>Tech, a couple vintage-cut acid tunes round things out, and we end on breakcore action from Spaceship Eyes. ONE JOB, Hypnotic!

Chris Fortier - Trance America (2016 Update)

Engine Recordings: 2000

(Click here to read a bunch of hyperbolic gushing passing itself off as 'jurnarlizm'.)


So this CD. It’s still one of the best prog mixes I’ve heard, especially for such an obscure release. The label it came out on, Engine Recordings, has but three entries in Lord Discogs’ archives. This includes a DJ mix from Mr. C called Subterrain 100% Unreleased, and the Stateside copy of Layo & Bushwacka!’s debut Low Life. Lord Discogs also informs this print was a subsidiary of Will Records, which apparently mostly dealt with indie rock. If Will was taking a chance on that trendy ‘electronica’ at the turn of the century, they sure didn’t bother sticking with it for long. How Chris Fortier got involved with the label for a ‘prog’ mix titled Trance America is anyone’s guess; except for Chris, because obviously he knows firsthand. He did put out a ‘trancey breaks’ mix a couple years prior on StreetBeat Records, a print that got its start peddling that Miami bass business. Maybe Mr. Fortier just enjoyed bucking convention? No, that can’t be right. He’s behind Fade Records, the label that practically defined ‘prog’ before it became Bedrock’s genre du jour. Was there any style of dance music that sounded more conventionally traditional than ‘prog’? Whee, oxymoron!

See, 2004 Sykonee, see? That’s how you’re supposed to do a review. None of this ultra-long anecdotal nonsense about Trance America being “trance’s redemption”. A few actual nuggets of information goes a long way, especially when dealing with something as obscure as this CD. Not that it’s difficult to find on the used market, nor does it command a high price. Nay, its obscurity lies in how overlooked Trance America remains, an easily missed release due to its awfully generic title. Plus, despite his skill behind the decks and the acclaim he earned before and since the year 2000, Mr. Fortier never broke free of the scene that nurtured his career, forever just another DJ and producer that Sasha & Digweed liked. Hey, that’s not such a bad distinction, not at all!

If you’re a prog completist, Trance America does feature a number of one-offs in its tracklist. Hyper-X never released anything else, not that it matters since its Steve Porter’s remix that gets the glory here. Tranceiver didn’t do much else either, while Memnon and Devol faded a couple years after. 3 Monkeys only had the mint single Crazy People, though its members – Anthony Pappa, Alan Bremner, and Barry Gilbey – were incredibly prolific with other projects (Brothers In Rhythm, Mara, superstar DJing, etc.). And we all know the fates of Steve Porter and Max Graham, early progressive trance darlings that went in completely different directions once ‘prog’ fell out of favor.

Not that 2004 Sykonee knew much of this. Discogs was still skint in its early info’, still becoming a Lord That Knows All. Plus, who’d have thought ‘prog’ would completely die so soon, its tastemakers scurrying to the safety of trendier genres? Certainly not I back when. Maybe exhaustingly detailing the music was for the best. Yeah, no.

Various - Trade: Past Present Future

Beechwood Music: 2000

More than just another UK superclub, Trade’s legacy will forever be as important as Warehouse, Paradise Garage, and other early gay clubs championing that house sound. While there was no shortage of such venues at the turn of the ‘90s, they were still subject to standard clubbing curfews, leaving patrons with little more to do than wander streets and parks as they kept the party vibes going the morning after. Thanks to some wheelin’ and dealin’ by founder Laurence Malice, however, an afterhours slot at Turnmills was secured, one of the first ever in the UK. With an ad campaign specifically offering a safer alternative for post-clubbing all-night benders, Trade quickly flourished, becoming one of the UK’s dance music institutions, and launching the careers of many notable DJs (Tony de Vit, Tall Paul, Fergie).

And like any successful clubnight with a brand reaching global status, Trade got in on that DJ mix CD market too. Its first series of double-discers came out in the mid-‘90s on EMI offshoot Feverpitch, successfully promoting a hard house stylee the club was growing famous for. When the label folded after a mere two years, Trade eventually found a new home on Beechwood Music, kicking off with Past Present Future, two CDs supplying all the sounds you might hear at an all-nighter in Turnmills.

By this point in Trade’s lifespan, the clubnight had grown large enough for a second room playing funkier house music, from which production duo The Sharp Boys were instrumental in running. CD1 mostly focuses on their sound, and they definitely run the gamut. Groovy garage opens things up, loopy disco escalates the tempo (yep, Loleatta Holloway still going strong), and you can’t have such a set without a soul-sista’ monolog (Antoine Clamaran’s Get Up). The Boys take a turn for the tribal (X-Press 2), offer some bouncy house (DJ Antoine’s Do It has a donk on it), hit you with a little tech-house action (Smoking Schoolboy’s Tell Me (Detention Mix)), finally unleashing an unabashed anthem in Bryon Stingily’s Stand Up Right. Oh, and they finish off with an Armin & Tiësto collab’ of Eternity. Because clearly a club catering to hard house heads crave that Dutch cheese, absolutely.

With so much genre hopping, CD1’s an erratic set at best, and hardly indicative of the pummeling sound Trade’s all-nighters were built around. Step up to CD2 then, where ‘future’ representative Gonzalo Santiago hits you with a full mix of NRG! The beats come hard, some tracks have hoovers, others have acid, and build-ups are blessedly brief. I don’t have much else to say about it, my knowledge of NRG severely lacking. It’s fun for the time I play it, but I don’t want to play it much after. Not even that Baby Doc rub of Praga Khan’s Injected With A Poison.

A bonus third CD is a ten-minute snapshot of Tony de Vit rinsing out on New Year’s Eve, 1996. A touching tribute to one of Trade’s true legends, taken away far too soon.

PJ Harvey - Stories From The City, Stories From The Sea

Island Records: 2000

The only PJ Harvey album you probably have, if you decided it was about time to take a listen-in on the indie-darling lady rocker. She even admits Stories From The City, Stories From The Sea is her stab at a pop-leaning record, though obviously said with tongue firmly in cheek. It generated the most sales abroad of any album in her career, yet is her lowest charted LP in her native UK. Yes, not even the sweet selling point of a couple Thom Yorke collaborations was enough to convince the indie British this wasn’t a blatant sell-out. Wait, the mellow To Bring You My Love didn’t do the trick? The ‘electronica’ Is This Desire? wasn’t proof Ms. Harvey had no problem jumping on trends? So fickle, these UK music lovers. She couldn’t scream that raw, angst rock of her early work forever, y’know. People grow up, mature, experiment, try different things, explore their latent abilities, aim for the light after spending time in the ditch, and all that.

Full disclosure: I’m among the rear tier of folks who should talk up PJ Harvey’s career. Of course I know about the singer-songwriter out of Yeovil (such a cool name, that!), her influence as a trailblazer for aggressive women of ‘90s rock. I’m sure a few of her tunes or guest appearances have crossed my ears over the years, and anyone that namedrops Neil F’n Young as an inspiration is a-ok in my books. Even glancing over her discography, it’s clear she follows a similar ‘give no fucks’ approach in following her muse wherever it may lead. And fortunately, her catalog doesn’t seem nearly as daunting as other eclectic sorts if one is so tempted to dive full-in. I just doubt I’ll be doing so anytime soon, if at all. Maybe if this ‘electronic music’ thing ever wears itself completely out on my ears. ‘Riot grrl’ rock might be a fun dalliance when I’m sixty-four.

As mentioned, Stories From The City, Stories From The Sea is ol’ Polly’s bestselling album, and has also earned her plenty of accolades as well. Playing it through, it’s easy to hear why, the music smooth and polished, many tunes sounding custom made for most rock radio stations. Yet there’s always something just a little more interesting going on beyond your stock FM filler. Catchy choruses contain clever lyrics, Harvey showing range in her singing voice as each song necessitates (angrier here, playful there, moody elsewhere). There’s quite a range of rock as well, some coming off as standards (Good Fortune, Big Exit, This Is Love), others showing a little sound experimentation (the neat dub overlays of The Whores Hustle And The Hustlers Whore), or going all-out ‘80s (Kamikaze). Other tunes show her acoustic side, and final track We Float has a dreamy indie pop thing going for it. Sounds like a Radiohead tune, if I’m honest, and is thus surprising it's not one of those Thom Yorke collaborations. Fine by me.

Various - Almost Famous

DreamWorks Records: 2000

I didn’t care much for the movie Almost Famous. Shock, I know. How could a supposed amateur music critic like I not admire, adore, and even empathize with the story of a young rock journalist’s journey of self-discovery while on a road-trip assignment? Eh, I just don’t, not in the slightest. Though I cannot deny some allure in getting all those sweet backstage passes and being paid to hear live music, I’ve never had any aspirations for music journalism as a career. The whole profession reeks of brown-nosing hustle just to get by, to say nothing of how internet reporting has all but diminished any potential scribe’s worth to publishers. I write these little blurbs about CDs I own not for fame or fortune, but for… hmm, come to think of it, why am I even doing this? Isn’t insanity defined by doing repetitive things for no discernable benefit? Perhaps so, but this niggling OCD’s gotta’ sort itself somehow.

Anyhow, it doesn’t matter what my music blogging aspirations are, for it’s not like Almost Famous has anything to do with that. It’s an inciting incident to get director Cameron Crowe’s autobiographical stand-in, fifteen year old William Miller, on the road with Allman Brothers Band stand-in, Stillwater. The teenager bears witness to things happening during the early ‘70s rock star livin’, like singing, partying, bickering, sexing groupies in denial, and maybe a little clairvoyance along the way. Right, an impending plane crash does help to clear the air with everyone involved, but by the end of the movie, it seems no one’s really learned much from this whole tour. The band, on the verge of stardom, don’t seem destined for much beyond their ‘almost famous’ status regardless. Aside from Kate Hudson (because Character Arc), the groupies still cling to the band with the blinkered optimism being around potentially famous rock stars affords them. And lil’ William learns that, though the rock star lifestyle ain’t all what it’s cracked up to be, it’s still a vital, healing part of so many folks’ souls to outright dismiss it as horrible ‘Satan music’. Wait, maybe I’m thinking the movie Groove here.

Almost Famous is ultimately a movie with super-thick nostalgia shades for a specific era of rock music. It touches on a few of the less-favorable aspects, but not to such a degree that it’ll have Boomers questioning their love for that time. Appropriately, the music on the soundtrack features all the folky and rocker sorts that defined the ‘70s college radio waves. The Who, Simon & Garfunkel, Rod Stewart, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Led Zep’, Cat Stevens all make appearances, with surprising turns from Yes, Beach Boys, Elton John, and David Bowie. It’s a good collection of songs, mostly eschewing obvious hits for tunes that fit the sort of tone Crowe was filming: laidback and carefree as the wind blows, trying to ignore that nagging uncertainty of what all this means in the end, of what the future holds. Punk, mang, the answer is punk.

Snoop Dogg - Tha Last Meal

Virgin: 2000

Though Snoop Dogg’s commercial revival with The Neptunes was still a few years off, the Long Beach resident was seeing a significant turnaround in his career when this album came out. Hot off the heels of the epic Up In Smoke tour and classic spots on Dr. Dre’s 2001: The Re-Chronikling, those who figured Mr. Broadus had lost the plot in joining No Limit Records were lured back by the promise of a return to Westcoast G-funk roots in Tha Last Meal. Technically, he’d already made those reconnections in his prior album, No Limit Top Dogg, but after the poorly received (yet two-times Platinum selling!) Da Game Is To Be Sold, Not To Be Told, you can forgive folks being wary of anything else ol’ Snoops would put out on Master P’s print.

Well, worry not, for he’s got Dr. Dre in the studio for three cuts on Tha Last Meal …which is the same as Top Dogg. Ah, well, we also get Dre-blessed Scott Storch in here, plus Snoop-blessed Meech Wells, and Westcoast alums DJ Battlecat and Soopafly. Also, in a remarkable coup, Timbaland, at the peak of his powers, provides two cuts, including Set It Off, an absolute banger of a track. The only No Limit Records representation is second-to-last track Back Up Off Me, with all the dirty South gang vocals, cussin’, and cheap beats you’d expect from the label. It’s also the dumbest cut out of seventeen. Shock, I know.

So music wise, we’re firmly in Westcoast G-funk land throughout, and hey, Snoop’s brought in a bunch of his buddies from the region too. Kokane takes up the bulk of guest spots, doing warbly croons in choruses. Nate Dogg gets in a few verses, including a wonderful little ditty in Set It Off. Long time Dogg Pound associate Butch Cassidy also shows up, and Snoop’s gotta’ get his short-lived posse Tha Eastsidaz in there somewhere. In a surprise spot, N.W.A. alum MC Ren and Ice Cube drop some bars in the awesome Set If Off (have I mentioned how dope this track is enough?). And through all this sausage fest, Eastcoast star Eve has a great tag-up with Snoop in Ready 2 Ryde, while another Westcoast legend, The Lady Of Rage, shows up in… wait for it… Set It Off!

So how’s ol’ Snoop on the mic, then? He’s still a gangsta’, still down with DPG, still smokin’ that endo, playa’-hatin’ hoes, and all that. Vintage Snoop, though a couple things do lyrically date Tha Last Meal. One, there’s a lot of Bill Clinton quips, because late ‘90s. Two, he’s dropping hints of a career less centered on rapping, and being a business mogul instead, including owning his own label, producing new talent, and the whole shebang. While that all came true after a fashion, it seemed he was more thinking of hanging up the mic for good, hence Tha Last Meal. Then along came a Pharrell, and put to rest that plan.

DJ Heather - Tangerine

Afterhours: 2000

Few lady jocks have had as much success in the world of house music as DJ Heather. Already a fixture in Chicago’s underground throughout the ‘90s, she gained a remarkable following from some of that scene’s premiere talents (Sneak, Carter, Farina, etc.), establishing herself as one of those ‘DJ’s DJ’ rather by accident. She never saw herself making a lasting career out of spinning records on the weekend, y’see, just a fun thing to do while socializing with artistic sorts around the Windy City.

But gained a rep for dynamic sets and skillful mixing she done did get, emerging from Chi-Town as one of the city’s preeminent DJs rinsing out the house beats. And though the fact she was a woman wasn’t a major part of her marketing, it didn’t stop her from using it as a platform to help promote other ladies in the field, including the SuperJane tour with fellow Chicago talents like Collette, Lady D and Dayhota. Several DJ mix CDs followed, including becoming the first woman to provide a set for the fabric series, and it seemed everything would continue on the up-and-up for Ms. Robinson. Well, not quite, mostly abandoning the mix CD market and sticking things out on the humble side of DJing. Her pedigree was more than enough to sustain a career without relying on the excessive promotional tactics employed by other jocks on the scene now.

At the turn of the century though, mix CDs were the best way of spreading your name beyond your local hubs, and DJ Heather got her start in this field with Tangerine on the prolific but short-lived Afterhours print out of Chicago. The style of music here won’t surprise anyone familiar with funky disco and soulful house of the era, Mark Farina’s mighty OM practically saturating American shops with the stuff. Heck, I’ve already mentioned a couple tracks off here in prior reviews (Studio Nova’s Moog manipulating Expansion Module, DJD’s funk talkbox anthem Shake It For Me), with a number of other well-rinsed records finding their way into this set too (Nick Holder’s Inside Your Soul, Derrick Carter’s 10, Les Maçons De La Musique’s No Time To Lose). These are mostly relegated to the bookends though, where you’re either capturing the listener’s attention with the familiar, or finishing strong with anthems.

The bulk of Tangerine is made up of rarities like Nostalgia’s deep filter-funk stomper 2 Da Floor, Majestika’s soulful organ cut Mind Magic, and Bert Dunk’s bouncy garage dub All In My Mind (and more!). Heather’s mixing has a couple shakey live transitions, but nothing that’s quickly recovered by another solid jam, each track distinct and fresh throughout. She finds her groove early and generally rides the same tempo to the end, only relenting at the very end with The Rurals’ Window Pain, a deep slice of jazzy garage that fades off into birds chirping in the morning light. I think most deep house DJs are obligated to end their CDs as such.

Various - Montreal Mix Sessions Vol. 5 - Tiga: Mixed Emotions

Turbo Recordings: 2000

Finally, I get to talk about something that's not from one of my current label obsessions. Instead, I get to talk about something from one of my early label obsessions. Huh, can't say I'm not consistent, and at least it's got nothing to do with ambient. Bask in this detour though, folks, because the chilled-out vibes, beatless slog continues unabated following this one. What do you mean that doesn’t make sense, o’ reader of the future reading these out of chronological order?

Though I’ve mention in many Turbo Recordings reviews how it marked a transition point for Tiga’s label that could, this one, honestly and truthfully, is the one. For starters, that cover! Gone was the classy photo of urban splendour (or elephants) in favour of a glamour shot of Mr. Sontag himself. Within the inlay is Mr. pre-Sunglasses At Night relaxing in a bathtub full of caviar sporting a leather speedo. If all this wasn’t enough to convince you of a totally vamped-up celebrity in the making, the typeface is in a hot neon pink, revelling in ‘80s retro stylee mere months within it becoming that whole electroclash thing. Of course, Tiga himself hadn’t quite hit his own highs yet, the spotlight still focused on Felix Da Housecat, Miss Kitten, and International Deejay Gigolo. Hell, Mr. Sontag had yet to even find the confidence in his singing voice, his breakout single a year off from hitting the pavement.

More pointedly though, he’d yet to really change the sort of music he was pushing. For a quick recap, Montreal Mix Sessions was Turbo’s initial DJ mix series, which Tiga premiered with the label’s launch. He handled the decks of the first volume, then shopped mixes out to other house and techno Montreal talent like John Acquaviva, Laflèche Morin, and (oddly) d’n’b act Dune. It made sense he’d return for another edition some time down the line, and the fifth volume was as good as any to do so. CD1 doesn’t do much to shake the Turbo foundations either, bumpin’ tech-house and pummelling 4am techno making up the bulk of its runtime. Tiga’s dropping of tracks from the likes of Adam Beyer, Sameul L. Session, Umek, Lay & Bushwacka!, Mateo Murphy, DJ Hell, and Tombra Vira (pst, that’s Jark Prongo) should give you a solid idea of what to expect on this mix. About the only surprise in this techno set is that it’s not the sort of sound you’d associate with Tiga anymore.

Mr. Sontag must have been feeling itchy to move onto something in line with his gestating passions though, as he threw in a Bonus Electro Funk CD, and here you find that nascent, anything-retro goes electroclash vibe. I-F is here! Martini Bros. are here! Bergheim34 is here! Dynamic Bass System is here! Anthony Rother is here! DMX Krew is here! Tiga would make better mixes after this one, but you can hear the unfurling of a new set of wings with Mixed Emotions. Fly high, my son.

Ghostface Killah - Supreme Clientele

Epic: 2000

Finally I’m tackling the one Ghostface Killah album Wu-Tang fans and general hip-hop folks alike consider his best long-player, Supreme Clientele. Remarkably, it wasn’t even thought as such for at first, the very definition of a slow burner. For sure the hardline Wu fandom was tripping themselves over it, but this came out when the Clan was losing their dominance at the top of the rap world, many albums from other members lacklustre compared to the fiery opening salvo that marked their ‘90s output. That Ghost’s sophomore effort would get slept on isn’t surprising, Mr. Killah’s stock as one of Wu-Tang’s best solo MC having yet to be established. It still burned in the underground though, and if anything, Supreme Clientele was the record that kept everyone talking, proving that not all things Wu was on the wane. Then Tony Starks would surpass the rest of his Clan fam’ in popularity, and everyone chimed in proclaiming they always knew Supreme Clientele was dope. Right, of course.

Disclosure time: I have not actually heard this album as most have. Rather, I have a misspressed, early version that shipped out with the initial wave of Canadian copies. For the longest time, I suspected something was wrong with my CD, the tracklist and sequencing wildly off cue compared to what was printed. It didn't matter too much, as the album was boss from front to back, but I couldn't figure why one nine-minute long track sounded like three different cuts one after the other. At the time, I thought it was an artistic decision, that Ghostface was operating on a different plane with this LP, throwing the very conventions of properly indexing one's albums out the window.

Nah, guy, it was just the wrong one I got, is all. So I lost The Grain; I gained the soul-drenched In The Rain instead. And I still get all the ace cuts anyway, even if they’re in a different order. The bouncy club jams One, Cherchez LaGhost, and Buck 50 are all still here. The killer, crusty Wu production of Mighty Healthy, Malcom, Wu Banga 101 and Stroke Of Death (the beat loop is a freakin’ spinback!) are all still here. Most members of the Clan show up (no ODB because jail, and no Deck, though he does provide a beat), with everyone sounding on point and in classic ‘90s hunger mode. The various skits are okay too (haha, they’re already dissin’ 50 Cent), and are nicely shuffled off to the ends of tracks in this copy rather than given individual indexes. Okay, that’s a personal preference.

Apparently such discrepancies have turned this first-run Canadian copy into something of a collector’s item, going for easy triple-digits in some quarters. Huh, In The Rain is a cool track (found only on this CD), but is it really worth a couple hundred bones?

In any version, Supreme Clientele is among the best solo Wu albums out there. Essential listening for any fan of the Clan.

Various - Stockholm Mix Sessions 2: Jesper Dahlbäck

Turbo Recordings: 2000

Though I had read positive things about Turbo in American-based magazine Mixer, Stockholm Mix Sessions 2 was my proper introduction to the label. It didn’t tell their whole story, of course, but it told enough to get my attention and check out more of what they had to offer. Well, after the cover first lured me in for a closer listen anyway. Seriously, what is it with apartment architecture that makes for such captivating photo art? It doesn’t have anything to do with the music inside, yet it instantly gives the sense this is a class mix through and through.

And oh man, is Mr. Dahlbäck’s second mix for Turbo ever class. I knew deep house well enough before, mostly thanks to the likes of Mark Farina and… um, okay so I didn’t have that much experience with the genre by the year 2000, but I’d heard plenty from assorted mixtapes making the rounds. Point being, my primary exposure to the sound was that of the West Coast bumpin’ style, and maybe a little deep Chicago for good measure. I was completely unaware there was an entirely unique strain of European deep house going on, much less being cultivated by guys from Sweden (should have paid more attention to Mixer’s words). It was house music steeped in cinematic soul, dubbed out to the outer reaches of your mind (or the Mediterranean patio), funk but a distant concern. Not that Stockholm Mix Sessions 2 is lacking in groove, but this is music I see myself enjoying at a classy dining lounge or ultra-chill afterparty than any typical club or beach event. Or Hell, cruising down the streets late at night, what with Metro Area’s Atmosphrique in the third position here (know your post Days Go By Mitsubishi ads, folks).

What marks Jesper’s second mix so much better than his first is just how incredibly smooth it is, much of which isn’t his own productions. For sure he works a few in (another remix for ADNY, plus two different collaborations as Sunday Brunch and Brommage Dub), but they’re complemented by the surrounding tracks vibing off what they bring to the mix. For instance, Cpen’s Pirate’s Life features the same super-spacious sound that Sunday Brunch’s Things You Said does, but also works in a bit of solo Moog that’s to die for. Come to think of it, this mix has a lot of solos in it, mostly keyboards, organs, and the like. So much soul-jazz, without going nu-jazz.

Many memorable names (I:Cube, King Britt, Luomo, Casey Hogan, The Rurals) rub shoulders with relative unknowns (Tribedelic, Moonchildren, Pascal Rioux), running from broken jazz-beat through the deepest end of house music, back to the Balearic beaches with Latin soul. Aside from one jarring transition mid-point (Luomo seldom makes things easy), Dahlbäck’s mixing is nigh flawless, making Stockholm Mix Sessions 2 the best mix CD he’s ever point out. Er, and his last one too. Adam Beyer would take over the series after this.

OutKast - Stankonia

Arista: 2000

Wu-Tang Clan may have opened my ears to the possibilities of what hip-hop could sound like, but OutKast's Stankonia obliterated whatever biased barriers I had left. Not that my reaction was much different from everyone else who nabbed a copy of this album, Big Boi and André 3000's fourth LP lauded for its fearless genre-bending music by even the most cagey of rap veterans. Folks in the know were already hype to OutKast's potential though, even if the duo continuously exceeded expectations at this point in their career. I was coming in raw, with no knowledge of their history within the Atlanta scene. All I knew about Southern rap was whatever No Limit Records was churning out, and Stankonia sounded nothing like Master P. Then again, Stankonia sounded like nothing else on the market period.

For one thing, this album was among the first, if not the first, of major records in American hip-hop to inject the breakneck pace of drum ‘n’ bass rhythms into the scene. I’m sure some UK act had done the deed prior, or at least lyrically conscious MCs were spittin’ verses overtop Roni Size cuts, but music intended for raves was well outside the interest of this continent’s ghetto regions. Figures, then, it’d take these OutKast types to make that bold step into 155BPM territory with B.O.B. and smaller track ? (yes, it’s called that). Big Boi and Mr. 3000 weren’t satisfied just aping some rhythms though, making use of their newly acquired studio to indulge in all sorts of electronic sounds and productions. Red Velvet is pure electro, Snappin’ & Trappin’ goes weirdo electro (wasn’t really called trap yet), Gangsta Sh*t blasts heavy southern bass funk, Slum Beautiful fears no time signatures, and I’ll Call Before I Come tinkers with a drum machine like a toy box in Prince’s hands. And don’t forget all those funky Moog worms about So Fresh, So Clean, Xplosion, and Stanklove.

Stankonia was also where André started feeling the soul-croon itch, which initially gave his chums pause whether they were going to lose his rap talents. Instead, Big Boi let him run with it, and the result was some of OutKast’s most endearing songs ever, including their first major hit with Ms. Jackson. There’s also freak-out rock with Gasoline Deams, P-funk soul with Toilet Tisha, salsa with Humble Mumble, and plenty of quirky dalliances within multiple interludes. It’s funny how the more traditional hip-hop cuts with Spaghetti Junction and We Luv Deez Hoez, while fine enough productions, are almost forgotten amongst the genre bending going on. Well, no, you’ll never forget the hook in We Luv Deez Hoez.

Listening to Stankonia, it’s easy to understand why many OutKast fans were hesitant in embracing Speakerboxxx / The Love Below. This album finds the duo seemingly at the threshold of exploring amazing new approaches to hip-hop, whereas the latter, though a passion-project, was a step back. The relative lack of anything since has only made hearts grow fonder for this stank.

Photek - Solaris

Virgin: 2000

Photek’s Solaris is almost legendary in how it divided a jungle nation. It didn’t have to be so. Drum ‘n’ bass was in fine shape at the turn of the millennium, though could have used more of Mr. Parkes’ refined approach to the craft of intelligent tech-step drum programming. Despite a few doing their own spin on the Photek stylee, (word to the Source Direct crew, yo'), other producers weren’t replicating it en masse. Still, for as generally healthy the d'n'b scene was, it had lost much of the commercial and critical clout it once earned in the '90s, Mr. Parkes' absence perhaps partly responsible for those dwindling times. That junglists were expecting- nay, counting upon another Modus Operani to remind the general club 'n' rave populace of their chosen sound's supreme standing is understandable. No less so, then, the betrayal many felt when Photek said nuts to all that, going his own way down paths no true junglists ever dared ventured.

An ocean and sky blue cover notwithstanding, fans had to suspect something was up when lead single Terminus dropped. Also the opener on Solaris, it’s a seriously funky outing with banging and clanking drum work, sounding more like some of Orbital’s output than much of Photek’s prior work (seriously though, that bass drop in the middle!). Infinity was more in line with the sort of tech-step d’n’b heads enjoyed from Mr. Parkes though, so perhaps the full album would offer up more like it. Oh, such innocent thoughts those were.

Second track Junk carries on with the Terminus style, though creeping much closer to techno’s realm than Photek had wandered before. Then Glamourama hits and, oh my God, it’s a house beat! How dare he! How dare he! How dare he? Wait, why is my head bobbin’? Ergh, argh, must. Resist. Deep. Groove.

Haha, foolish junglist, Photek has you in his house clutches now, and to keep you there, here’s Mine To Give, as vintage a Chicago throwback as you could get in the year 2000, including a guest vocal from Robert Owens, a singer featured on many classic Trax Records tracks. As if throwing a bone to the ‘deebee’ faithful, Can’t Come Down gets back to the d’n’b side of things, though on a much chiller scale than anything heard in the Photek discography before. Was he daring LTJ Bukem to play one of his records? The second half of Solaris isn’t nearly as dynamic as the first, if anything flickering down with more claustrophobic house (Solaris) and trip-hop (Halogen, Lost Blue Heaven), but hoo, what an impression side one imparted.

Of course, given this would be the last Photek album for over a decade, the vitriol leveled on Solaris faded, folks wondering if he’d ever drop another LP again. Mr. Parkes would occasionally return to jungle in that time, and his genre explorations garnered him more respect abroad for taking such a chance with his music, succeeding even in the face of predictable backlash.

Various - Slumberland (Episode 2: Awake & Dreaming)

Waveform Records: 2000

It didn't seem Waveform Records had any intention of following up the first Slumberland. The kick-off series [Number] A.D aside, most of their compilations were one-and-done efforts, a simple showcase of a particular genre of music. Frosty got in on that trippy acid jazz-hop vibe, Earthjuice went for a traditional dub look, and Slumberland surely satisfied whatever audience they had for dreamy ambient noodling. Their snoozing CD must have did better business than expected though, for why else would they bring us Episode 2 nearly three years after the first? Maybe groovy folks truly do enjoy calm, droning synths, so long as its presented in a package that eschews New Age mystical bollocks.

On the other hand, perhaps Waveform believed there was more to explore with the Slumberland concept, hence the write-up for Episode 2: Awake & Dreaming. Instead of offering music capturing the essence of deep relaxation, this CD focuses on transitional moments between alertness and inertness. Not so much the lucid state of mind though, the tunes on offer here having more rhythm to them, mostly light tribal beats or pulsating synths. It’s still a very calm collection of music, but there’s something of an old, ancient mystery to it all, like music sent from all our forgotten ancestors who somehow had digital means of recording sounds. Whoof, does that ever sound pretentious.

I’m gonna’ allow it though, because Slumberland 2: The Reslumbering, features quite a few names well outside the borderlands of what most folks consider electronic music producers. Oh, they definitely still make use of synths and sequencers, but you’d never find these names in the traditional “Electronic & Dance” racks at ye’ olde record shop. For instance, ones Mychael Danna and Tim Clément appear on here, Canadian individuals who’ve been making ambient music since the ‘80s – in fact, their composition Sunrise West, a pulsing bit of latter-era Berlin School work, comes direct from an ’86 album Another Sun. And while Mr. Clément mostly worked in tandem with Mr. Danna, one of his few solo outings also features here in the form of Beautiful Lady, a piece with eerie bells and pipes playing as filtered dialog goes on about out-of-body experiences. Then there’s Richard Wahnfried’s epic eighteen minute long Druck, making use of acoustic guitars, tribal rhythms, and wave upon wave of synths and pads. Who does this guy think he is, Mike Oldfield? Heh, close: it’s actually a pseudonym for the legendary Klaus Schulze, putting this track’s release date firmly in 1981! Holy cow, did Waveform ever do some digging for this compilation.

That said, the label’s spelunking for ambient music outliers resulted in a few chintzy pieces too. Tracks from I-Sense and Eleven Shadows are rather rudimentary offerings, and I can’t decide whether Janjiva’s Four Dimensional Interaction is suitably minimalist ambient techno or just undercooked, especially compared to the sharper Born Basic from Foundland. The ‘nice’ does still outweighs the ‘meh’ on Slumberland 2 though, and is a worthy sequel to the first.

Juno Reactor - Shango

Metropolis: 2000

Shango is about as transitional an album as a transitional album can get. Not that we were aware of it back when Juno Reactor dropped his fifth LP in the year 2000, though one could definitely suspect Ben Watkins leaving his psy trance legacy in the dust. Bible Of Dreams already hinted at a muse looking for new roads to travel, fresh genres to explore. Maybe he'd start dabbling in that burgeoning psy dub thing, or take a stab at another ambient concept album. Ooh, industrial rock and big beat is still popular, especially with movie soundtracks – why not make a few tunes geared for TVT's latest cyberpunk thriller?

I don’t know about that, but hearing some of his Bible cuts featured in movies and video games must have given Mr. Watkins a shot of inspiration, envisioning his music in cinematic terms rather than outdoor party fodder. It's the only explanation I have for opening Shango with a track stampeding out of a Robert Rodriguez grindhouse Western. Pistolero's got the flamenco guitars, Mexican samples, bank robberies, and a ton of energy to spare, desperado rhythms furiously galloping across the arid lands of Chihuahua. No matter what you thought Juno Reactor might bring to this album, I highly doubt anyone figured it'd be something as off the dusty trail as Pistolero.

And then he changes gears straight after with Hule Lam, a collaboration with long-time South African traditionalist troupe Amampondo that goes deep into the tribal conga fury. Er, I honestly don't know which African ethnicity they draw their music from, though this song was oddly featured in a dancing mini-game tie-in to the movie Madagascar 2. Wait, what? Talk about licensing to the extreme. I hope none of the kids vibing on Hule Lam checked out the rest of Shango, only to have the fierce, terrifying meditative Badimo assault their senses shortly after.

If you're getting a feeling of musical whiplash with these descriptions, fret not for that's one of the problems with Shango as an album. Masters Of The Universe marks the midpoint of the album, and it’s the closest thing to a tear-out psy trance outing you’ll find. Following that are two versions of Nitrogen, the first having a lending hand from Orb members Alex Paterson and Greg Hunter for a thumping dubbed-out excursion, the second more of a conventional industrial-trance tune (with some mint drum fills thrown in throughout!). And while you can always count on a nice ambient closure on most albums, Shango ends with two, neither having much to do with each other. Solaris is a dark ambient outing with chants and such, while Song Of Ancestors comes off like the credits sequence to whatever movie Watkins had in mind for Pistolero.

That’s Shango in a nutshell: an LP with many great ideas and cool tunes, but little holding it together. Come Labyrinth, Watkins would tie his inspirations into cohesive whole, but here he’s figuring out just how far he can take Juno Reactor.

ADNY - Selections: 1997-2000

Turbo Recordings: 2000

A significant CD in Turbo Recordings' history, this was the label's first ever spotlight on a single producer. I'm hesitant to call this an album though, as ADNY already had such an LP to his name, released the year prior on Plastic City. I suppose that one - The Way Eye See - wasn't technically an ADNY album either, placing his name alongside a “Presents Leiva” credit, but it's all the same guy anyway, Mr. Alexi Delano. He's worked under a few aliases over the years too, including A.D.1010 for Harthouse Mannheim during the mid-'00s, and earlier as Bob Brewthbaker. Yeah, he's another European who made house music with an American-sounding pseudonym – what do you expect from a resident of Plastic City (home of Terry Lee Brown, Jr. and The Timewriter, yo').

Long time Turbo (and Tiga!) fans might be asking, “Wait, what’s all this ‘house music’ you speak of with regards to the label? Aren’t they known for electroclash and trashy acid techno?” To which I first reply, “Haven’t you read any of my prior Turbo reviews?” Or secondly: “Huh, guess you aren’t that long of a Turbo fan.” But to reiterate for my umpteenth time, Tiga’s label That Could got its start in the realms of fashionable house and techno, a dash of electro thrown in for the occasional spicing (or a drum ‘n’ bass tangent because Montreal nepotism). Among the earliest hits of any sort for Turbo came care of two ADNY cuts, Dreaming and his remix for Universal Tongues & DKMA’s Shiver Me, which I’m almost certain I’ve talked about before because they featured on several mixes and compilations.

So let’s instead focus on the remaining ten tracks selected for ADNY’s Selections: 1997-2000. First off, none of these appeared on that Plastic City album, so no sign of repeats here. As far as I (and Lord Discogs) can tell, these are previously unreleased tunes, with a few smatterings of vinyl cuts from other licensed labels. It provides a nice assortment of house vibes then, never settling for the some ol’ thing over and over (though I wouldn’t mind that from Shiver Me, no sir).

Primarily we’re in the deep end of soulful house, though with more of a thick, tribal East coast groove than the style Naked Music and OM Records were churning out at the time. And what deep house tune isn’t complete without some additional musicianship thrown in, whether some xylophone tones (I’m Still Here), brass section licks (What If I Love), or smooth vocal come-ons (Never Leave You, ICU). Elsewhere, ADNY stretches his muse to incorporate a little slow-jam synth-pop (Desierto de Atacama) and voxed-out Balearic bliss (Precious Lady).

Is Selections: 1997-2000 an essential addition to your deep house collection? Probably not, as there’s oodles of the stuff for grabs out there. Still, Tiga had an ear ADNY, and if you have faith in the Montreal tastemaker’s, um, taste, you know he wouldn’t steer you wrong here either.

Various - The Secret Life Of Trance: Episode 2

Imperial Dancefloor: 2000

Awww, yeah. Now we're talkin'. A compilation of Rising High trance, one of the O.G. labels of that scene, with a bonus DJ mix CD from the Godfather of trance, Oliver Lieb. I spy Cygnus X's Superstrings in that mix - not the Rank 1 remix or Corsten remix (or whatever), but the original, old-school version. You bet the boys behind this revitalized Secret Life Of Trance series were about to lay some serious knowledge on all them 'crackers of the year 2000. Nothing could possibly go wrong with this.

The first track on here is Lost 22 from Starecase. Hey, I've seen that name on a few DJ mixes before (Bill Hamel, Timo Maas, and some dude by the name of Tijs). I'm also fairly certain I've heard the Max Graham Remix of Lost 22, but the original version is what we get here. It’s a charming little prog-trance number, the sort you’d hear in plenty of set openers of the time. It also sounds very much of 2000, which I wasn’t expecting from a Rising High compilation. Guess Casper Pound had to placate the masses’ expectations for a trance CD regardless, but at least Lost 22’s classy enough.

Following that is nu-skool breaks from XPD’s Titty Twister. Wait, what the Hell? What on earth is a breakbeat track doing on a trance CD? These aren’t even ‘trancey breaks’ like Hybrid or something, but full-blown nu-skool, including those buzzy basslines everyone enjoyed mocking. This is the sort of stuff Adam Freeland was playing, and has no place on a trance collection, even if Mr. Pound is one of the producers. Would the breaks scene accept an ATB cut in a Krafty Kuts mix? Hell no!

Following that is... oh God. Moonrunners’ Fathom is a such a lame pinch of the Balearic trance fad, including a synth rhythm that sounds like a watered-down version of Tekara’s Breathe In You. The whole track’s insipid bilge, with an overlong breakdown playing out Zamfir’s The Lonely Shepherd on Spanish guitar – dudes, you don’t diss the Zamf’s panflutes like that! The rest of CD1 amounts to little else of note. Chris Cowey (as F2) turns in an agreeable bit of techno on Dominca, Silvio Ecomo’s Standinghas a solid tribal pulse, and Lieb goes deep with Light It Up as Phools Inc. Beyond that, generally a balls disc, sadly.

With such weak music to work with, ol’ Oliver would have to transcend even Sasha’s skills on the decks to salvage the CD2 mix. He does what he can, but even at best Mr. L.S.G. has only been a functional jock. He spices things up with a few of his own productions, almost all under obscure one-off aliases like Mindspace and Multiplicity. The mix even turns enjoyable once he’s finished playing out the obligatory CD1 material, finishing out with an old-school vibe I thought Rising High would deliver. Unfortunately, it’s not enough for another play of Secret Life Of Trance: Episode 2 anytime soon.