The Fires Of Ork - The Fires Of Ork

Fax +49-69/450464/Biophon Records: 1993/2000/2018

Hot damn, Geir's gone and done it! Like, I saw no reason why he couldn't if he wanted to, as the Namlook estate's been quite generous in sharing music rights with previous collaborators of Mr. Kaulmann. For some reason though, I felt The Fires Of Ork was the holy grail of Biosphere projects, the original album released between Microgravity and Patashnik, when Geir still had an inclination towards techno's rhythmic pulse. He was so swift in moving on from music with a little dancefloor groove, it's clear it wasn't a sound he was terribly fond of revisiting, even in a reissued format.

Even the whole Fires Of Ork project seemed nothing more than a one-off pairing, Pete Namlook and Biosphere heading off in rather different paths shortly after. Pete had found his niche (relentless work-rate, endless collaborations, label management), Geir had found his (icy minimalist ambient with expansive field recordings), and that was that, The Fires Of Ork just another of the multitude of very interesting projects to have passed through the Fax+ studios.

And an interesting album The Fires Of Ork is, if for no other reason to hear just how much each performer's style meshes, mashes, and mixes with the other. The titular opener and closer does the ambient 'bleep' techno thing that you'd associate with Phase 1 Biosphere, but has that spacey trancey vibe so distinct of early-era Namlook (plus: ear-wormy Blade Runner sample – dude loved him some Blade Runner samples). Meanwhile, Gebirge attempts a vintage twenty-minute Fax+ ambient excursion, but Pete and Geir's sounds and arrangements are so minimalist, it doesn't feel like it goes much of anywhere. Faring better is the straight-forward light trance of Talk To The Stars, and the eighteen-minute chill-out session of The Facts Of Life, where the distinct sounds of each player actually complement each other as though hearing two musicians feeding off their contributions.

While The Fires Of Ork was interesting for what it added to the Fax+ legacy, it was a small surprise that Pete and Geir teamed-up again in the year 2000 for The Fires Of Ork 2. Though not incompatible, it was clear from The Fires Of Ork there wasn't much room for music exploration between their differing ambient styles. Half a decade on, and both definitely having evolved since the early '90s, where would their muses meet for another session?

Leaving the 'bleep techno' well behind, that's for certain. Compared to the paranoid sci-fi tone of the first album, The Fires Of Ork 2 is very mellow, Biosphere's open, minimalist approach mostly dominating. Pete works in some nice pad work in In Heaven, while Sky Lounge sounds like we're chilling near an Ibizan shore with the rings of Saturn hovering over the shoreline, but we're in pure mood music territory with this album. Well, except Nouvelles Machines, which has a weird dubby, clicky noise with sparse electronic bleepy-beeps befitting a retro sci-fi movie. Can't shake those 'bleep techno' roots, I guess.

Tristan - Audiodrome

Twisted Records: 2000

A significant album for yours truly, though not for anything to do with the music within. Or maybe a little, though I don't put that on Tristan himself. Nay, Audiodrome was the first CD that I learned to not have any faith in Amazon reviews. It was still early in my 'online buying' days, that fancy new credit card I finally procured providing me access to the largest storefront the world has ever seen. What to buy, though, what to buy? Well, look at that, some handy 'recommendation lists' from Amazon users, and there's even one for trance. I like trance! At least, I think I still liked trance. If it's good trance, at least, and this particular list was reppin' some names that skewed towards the psy side of things. Ooh, Tristan, I know that name, appearing on that Trance Psyberdelic compilation. With adjectives like 'dark' and 'deep' in this reviewer's high praise of Audiodrome, I thought I might be in for another Black Album from L.S.G. Well, not quite.

So this album couldn't live up to the adulation of an Amazon review. Unfortunately, it didn't even live up to my expectation of a psy trance album. True, that's totally on me, as I was honestly unaware that a significant segment of the psy scene had embraced minimalism. In fact, Tristan's work is often cited as among the forerunners of that shift, Audiodrome held up as one of its best offerings. I can jive with that, the music on here definitely better than other examples of this sound from this era – one need only gander at that Alien Dust compilation for proof. Heck, some of Audiodrome is better than what's being churned out in this style to this day - ain't no abuse of triplets here, my friends.

And to be fair, only a couple tracks are of the slower, minimalist plodding variety. Even fairer, I respect Tristan's attempt at doing something quite different from psy trance norms. If anything, Valve is a precursor to the monotonous strand of prog-psy, so you gotta' give him credit for predicting it so far ahead of everyone else. I suppose Reptile Mind isn't too bad either, though constantly fails at shifting into second gear. Is probably the point.

That's not to say the rest of Audiodrome features a ton of tear-out trance, the remaining tracks generally minimalist as well. They show greater use of tension and build though, such that when those vintage psy-trance peaks hit, Tristan's getting maximum efficiency out of minimal sounds (and hey, if I need something more classical-goa, there's always Dreamtime). Naturally, I didn't 'get it' at the time, but have come to appreciate the songcraft in these tunes, especially in lieu of future repeated examples of how awful this can go. Audiodrome still isn't recommended for novice psy heads, truly a slow burner of an album. If you've been lurking about those 'forest trance' sorts though, give this one a go to hear its roots.

Paul Oakenfold - Perfecto Presents Another World

Thrive Records: 2000

Rinsing out another clutch of trance anthems wasn't exciting anymore. Everyone was doing it, CDs of the stuff flooding the shelves of all your major retailers. No, to stand out from an over-saturated market, you had to get conceptual in your mixes, add a unique spin on your art of spin.

This was no doubt running through Oakenfold's head as his brand had reached near global peak. Yes, he was the highest paid DJ in the world, but those two lads, Sasha & Digweed, kept getting the highest critical praises. How could it be, Paul had to wonder, why they were seen as light years ahead of him? They'd both had DJ mixes out on superclub tie-ins (Renaissance, Cream), both had entries in the Global Underground series. Surely they were on the same level, right? No, because Sasha & Diggers still had the critically lauded conceptual Northern Exposure series, and Oakenfold had no such items to his brand, nor could he, Paul's skill as a DJ incapable of such immaculate sets. What do?

Do a conceptual mix his way, is what. People laugh at your mixing abilities? Then make a mix where mixing isn't a main focus at all, just track selection. And of those tracks, make sure you get some upfront tunes premiered, like Max Graham's Airtight, or Quiver's rub of Led Zeppelin's Babe I'm Gonna Leave You. Plus, folks seemed to love that Silence track on Northern Exposure: Expeditions, so include that too, but with a fresh remix from that new hotness Dutch guy named Tiësto. Finally, do something no one was doing in their commercial DJ mixes, and include transitional pieces featuring music from Bladerunner, Dead Can Dance, and that recent Al Pacino and Russell Crowe flick! Top that, Misters Coe and Digweed! Oh, c'mon, pay attention to me! I tried this time, really I did! There's even a long blend with Timo Maas' Ubik and L.S.G.'s Into Deep - surely enough for proper prog-props.

Actually, that's something that strikes me about Another World, just how much of the 'dark prog' sound is in this. Yeah, Oakenfold can't help himself in having some of them also feature operatic vocals or Balearic vibes, but tell me tunes like Skope's Back And Front or Lost It.Com's Animal couldn't fit in a Bedrock set too. And ooh, there's some proggy-breaks action in Brancaccio & Asher's Darker. Yeah, having pieces like The Host Of The Seraphim and Tears In The Rain may be obvious to connoisseurs of such music, but ain't no one playing them in 'radio sets' like Another World; and I quite like Lisa Gerrard's Sacrifice, thank you very much.

Frankly, I like a lot of this set, even the cheesier moments like Jan Johnston's Flesh and the silly 'interviews' praising Oakenfold. The music's top-notch throughout, while Oakenfold's weaknesses are played as strengths in his track arrangement. For a brief moment here, he finally seemed on par with the critical darlings of progressive trance. It was mostly downward after.

Various - Ambient Dub: Futuristic Techno Dub & Electronic Roots

Millennium Records: 2000

I first saw this advertised among a pile of promo flyers we'd get in the little music shop I worked at, and I couldn't believe my eyes that it was real. An honest-to-Jah ambient dub compilation in the year 2000, half a decade past the micro-genre's peak of prominence? For sure a couple acts were keeping that fire burning (s'up, Sounds From The Ground), but as the Kruder & Dorfmeister style had overtaken the downtempo scene, the O.G. works from Beyond had been relegated to the annals of electronic music history; this is, what, the seventeenth time I've written this blurb?

Anyhow, without knowing anything about any of the names listed on the promo spiel, I ordered a copy for myself because what else was I supposed to do? I thought ambient dub was long gone, but here was a label promising a return of the stuff, even being so bold as to include the genre in blazing big font. Never mind the cover art looked a tad dodgy and this could all be some false advertising. If there was to be a proper revival of the sound that opened my ears to all manner of wonderful sonics, you had to support any and all attempts at it, amirite? No, I ain't right, but such was my logic at the time.

So the CD comes in, and I immediately throw it on to hear what 'Year 2000 ambient dub' is all about and the first song has some Jamaican roots loops and a mild techno beat and is kinda' dub but in no way ambient. Thus, my fear had been confirmed, Ambient Dub nothing more than a tacky marketing gimmick. How could any label get away with such a blatantly misleading compilation title, promising ambient dub and providing no ambient at all? Who is the label anyway? Oh, Millennium Records, they of the UK Space Techno series. That explains that.

So I was disappointed my new Ambient Dub CD didn't have ambient dub on it. Then I actually sat down and listened to the darn thing and I realized something: there's some gosh-darned dope dub techno on this compilation! That opening track, for instance, comes care of The Rootsman, and is a chipper slice of roots techno in its own right. The next track comes care of Saafi Brothers, who I didn't know at the time, but are highly regarded within the psy-dub scene. They include Gabriel Le Mar, who appears thrice more on this CD, once under his own name (with groovy April My Dear, almost treading into prog-psy's territory), again as Dub_Connected (crunchy dub techno dopeness), plus as part of Banned X, their That's Dub a surprisingly brisk outing of trippy dub techno.

The rest of Ambient Dub (sans ambient) pretty much flits between dub techno and roots techno, and despite a couple weird moments (Outernational's Cape East predicts brostep belches a decade early!), is a solid assortment of the stuff. Clearly though, Millennium Records couldn't have called it Techno Roots-N-Dub or something more accurate.

U2 - All That You Can't Leave Behind

Island Records: 2000

The only post-Millennium U2 album everyone still remembers fondly of. Oh, I'm sure some still rate How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb and even No Line On The Horizon (not so much Songs Of Innocence though, heh), but this one, this reminded folks that, yes, they actually do like U2. So successful was the Irish band in convincing everyone of this fact, even I got myself the album, and I wasn't even that big a U2 mark when it came out. Sure, I enjoyed their '80s music, but I only ever needed a greatest hits package of said work to sate my needs.

It was a can't-miss project though. After so many years of genre dalliances and wayward muses, getting back to basics was inevitable, the band undoubtedly aware of just how far off the rock path they'd gone. Maybe they couldn't recapture the unforgettable political fire that marked much of their '80s highlights, but they could at least bring in some familiar producers with Brian Eno and Daniel Lanois. Take a little of what you know, a little of what you learned, mix in all that remains of you (what you can't leave behind), and present it all in a humble, simple little package, none of that technicolor opulence the Pop tour indulged in.

And hoo, did we buy in, desperate to hear the U2 we remembered of yesteryear. Lead single Beautiful Day done did that, offering up the soaring strings, soaring Bono chorus, soaring guitars, and even a little soft 'techno drums' in the rhythms, just in case some of you did like Discoteque. With such a stirring, rousing, grand opening statement and return to form for U2, we all believed the forthcoming album was gonna' be all that. No, don't deny it, you did.

Elevation hits that high too, with a little more boogie going for it, but nay, All That You Can't Leave Behind is a far mellower album than folks expected, and save the big singles, has kinda' fallen from memory as a result. Like, I've played this CD plenty of times now, but I can never remember how Peace On Earth or In A Little While goes. I do recall Walk On being another overplayed mall-radio jangle, and New York being a charming ode to The Big Apple, but I always forget they're from this album. Wild Honey has me thinking the Beach Boys rendition instead, and Kite... isn't this also Gorillaz' Slow Country?

And thus we reach this record's conundrum. For all the accolades All That You Can't Leave Behind earned, reinvigorating U2's career, and adoration it received at the time of release, when stacked against the band's greater body of work, it just can't live up to that legacy. The big singles, yes; the rest, not so much. For sure it was the right album at the right time, but that time has passed, and the older it gets, the further it falls in favour. These things happen.

Aquasky - Aftershock

Moving Shadow: 2000

Aquasky was among Moving Shadow's new breed of drum 'n' bass tastemakers taking the scene into bold new territories as the Millennium turned. I know this, because a lot of the PR blurbs surrounding Aquasky said so. More than that, they had no problem flitting beyond the strict borders junglists demanded of their artists. Breaks? Sure, they can do that too, and maybe even give a few bassline pointers to those emerging nu-skool doods. Trip hop? Ain't no th'ang, every ace producer having a chill side too. Nu-jazz? Oh, hey, let's not get carried away. Just because Kruder & Dorfmeister tapped a track for their DJ-Kicks doesn't mean you should go that far beyond your boundaries. Maybe try something safer, like jazzstep. (note: the tune on DJ-Kicks is jazzstep, but why ruin a joke with facts?)

A trio of cats (Brent Newitt, Kieron Bailey, Dave Wallace), Aquasky initially debuted with a handful of singles on Moving Shadow, as many d'n'b acts were wont to do. They must have generated quite the buzz, as Polydor swooped in and offered them a deal, the mini-album Orange Dust emerging. I assume that didn't turn out as the players involved hoped, for Aquasky was right back in the Moving Shadow fold shortly after, releasing a proper LP in the form of Bodyshock. That one did better, so good that a remix album was commissioned the following year. That's no small feat, remix albums few and far between within the d'n'b scene to that point. Goldie's Timeless never got one. Roni Size's New Forms never got one. Perhaps a couple stray examples exist throughout the '90s, but fact remains Aftershock is a rare beast for its time. Or a hastily cobbled cash-grab quick to capitalize on all the hype Bodyshock had generated – would explain the totally borked track list on the CD.

No, seriously, how does one completely screw up a track list like this? Nothing is sequenced as laid out on the back of the booklet, and given that the compilation itself actually flows remarkably well for a remix album, I'm assuming what I hear is the intended order. Corduroy's rub on Battlestar is a fine funky, bass-heavy opener, while Sketch's go with Sonix feeds your reptile brain with some savage bass throbs and shuffly 2-step rhythms. At track five, we take a break from the breaks 'n' bass business for Mr. Scruff lending his funky jazz touch to Man Made Symphony, but for the longest time, I was told this was Stalker (Timecode Remix). Given the players involved, that don't make a lick of sense.

I suspected something was up when the obviously London Elektricity rub of Rebirth was titled Zero Tollerance (Aquasky Remix), and the track titled Rebirth (London Elektrcity Remix) sounded nothing like a London Elektricity remix. It wasn't until The Lord That Knows All graced my existence that I was enlightened upon Moving Shadows' erroneous handling of Aftershock. I wonder if that's why Aquasky left the label again, after this?

Supercar - Futurama

Ki/oon: 2000

(a Patreon Request from Philoi)

I know rock music has been a major component of Japanese culture for many decades now, but I don't hear much of it. Their chief sonic exports into my earholes remain j-pop and traditionalist modern classical, with some minimalist ambient and techno celebrating neo-Tokyo on the side. All these retain some hint of Japanese influence, adding to the rich tapestry these genres encapsulate across the globe. Rock music, on the other hand, is almost entirely devoted to Americana, forcing its musicians into its mold. Any innovative deviation from The Source is often ridiculed (krautrock, stuffy British progressive rock ...Norwegian death metal?), making the once rebellious scene almost as conservative as country (the true bastion of all that is Americana).

Thus whenever I hear Japanese rock, I give it a respectful nod, but seldom hear much that differentiates it from its American counterparts (screaming j-Punk noise an exception – no one screams like the Japanese!). Indeed, if I didn't explicitly know going in, I wouldn't have guessed this Supercar band was Japanese. For sure they sing in Japanase, but because they do so in that shoegazey method of elongated syllables, it doesn't sound much different from an English singer, in that I haven't a clue what either are saying most of the time. But man, do such vocals ever sound cool in the wall of sound that is indie rock.

Supercar cranked out seven albums in a decade of activity, before disbanding in 2005. They seem adored enough to get vinyl re-issues as of late, but even the Empire Records soundtrack got a vinyl reissue, so what's that worth? No, but seriously, Futurama is the sort of album that could use a little resurgence, a catchy assemblage of dream pop indie jams and club ready electronic rhythms. In fact, this album is far more electronic than I was expecting, tracks like opener Changes, Karma, and Fairway laying the techno-kicks on thick.

Mostly though, we get a variety of chipper indie rock (Playstar Vista, White Surf Style 5., Restarter), quirky synth-hop ditties (Baby Once More, Shibuya Morning, Everybody On News) and dreamy jams (Flava, New Young City, I'm Nothing). Some tracks add in a unique element from the usual shoegaze tones (what is that bleepy sound in Star Fall?), while others revisit musical themes from earlier in the album. Still, Supercar seem incappable of ending Futurama, the last clutch of tracks sounding like they're the capper on the album. No, wait, here's one more song. And one more. And one more. And...

And lyrically? From what I can glean from sporadic translations, most of these songs deal with relationships, which is a little disappointing, if I'm honest. With a title like Futurama, and clear album flow going down, I was kinda' hoping for songs about, well, the future, or at least living in some 'futurama' future. Heck, maybe they are, and the translations simply didn't capture that theme. Wouldn't be the first time something Japanese is lost in translation.

Tosca - Suzuki

Studio !K7: 2000

The only Tosca album you're supposed to have, even if you're not a fan of Tosca. This conclusion is based upon the fact that most of the Tosca tunes that have done serious compilation duty come from Suzuki. Tracks like Honey, Busenfreund, and many more were some of Dorfmeister and Huber's most frequently plucked items for downtempo collections. Yes, even when the promotion cycle would encourage their more recent material, there's still Ocean Beat doing the business, right along with Chocolate Elvis and Rolf Royce. That's some serious longevity, especially in an overstuffed compilation market, though it cannot be denied Studio !K7 were quite aggressive in licensing out their acts to corner that lucrative after-hours scene. And Tosca, they fit the bill quite nicely indeed, with Suzuki coming out right as said scene was blowing up. So effective was this album's marketing, tracks from it even appeared on things like Slo' Motion Trance, rubbing shoulders with trancecracker favourites like ATB's Trilogy, Rank 1's Airwave (Sunset Mix), iiO's Raputre (Soulside Remix), and Energy 52's Cafe Del Mar (Michael Woods Remix Edit). Wha'...? Tosca no fit with Blank & Jones, yo'! (the weird shit I find on Discogs, I swear)

For my money, I kinda' prefer Dehli9 over this album, but don't take my opinion with two tablespoons of sodium laureth sulfate – that shit might kill you! More to the point, Suzuki is just the second album of Tosca music I've taken in, and while this and Dehli9 do tend to have the most tune plucked from them for compilation duty, that doesn't mean they're the best in their catalogue. For all I know, last year's Going Going Going outclasses either of them, so until I hear every Tosca album (all seven of them, not including remix albums ...*sigh*), my opinion remains rather limited. Just from what I've heard between these two, Dehli9 has the more interesting tracks (bonus ambient piano CD doesn't hurt either).

Of course, we're still dealing with some class-A downtempo vibes with Suzuki. The simmering funk, the light jazzy touches, the dubby atmosphere all blend together for a collection of tracks that play perfectly in the background, never quite drawing your attention to them while you read your book, write that novel, play that online poker, or smoke that spliff. In fact, I'd say they're almost too unassuming, in that very little actually leaps out at you should you play it as background fodder. For sure when you pay actual attention to Rich' and Rupert's songcraft, there are wonderful little musical touches from track to track that never leaves Suzuki a dull, monotonous listen. I dunno' though, some personality is lacking compared to tunes like the oddball soul-jazz of Me & Yoko Ono, or the ragga' influenced Gute Laune (both tunes off Dehli9 - see why I like that album more!). It's not a deal breaker for Suzuki, but I doubt I'll be grabbing for it as often compared to my other plentiful downtempo options.

Tipper - The Critical Path

Higher Ground: 2000

(A Patreon Request from Omskbird)

Despite it soon dominated by *those* basslines, there's a reason why nu-skool breaks was briefly considered among the cutting-edge tuneage in electronic music: producers were eschewing traditional standbys like sampling and bigging-up the beats in favour of cribbing technical innovations from the IDM camps. Micro edits! Digital scratching! Glitchin' that shit up! Of course, by the time the nu-skoolers had gotten their mitts on these toys, the IDM world had long moved on, but it's not like the IDM and breaks scenes would ever cross-pollinate again. (oh hi, Venetian Snares)

Among those early innovators was Dave Tipper, a nu-skool hero for the headier heads (and a glitch-hop favourite when nu-skool became old-n-busted school). He never achieved the same level of commercial fame as other players in this particular scene (Rennie Pilgrim, Adam Freeland, that attention whore BT, who only dabbled in nu-skool but somehow took almost all the glory... *ahem*), but that's how his followers like it. Tipper is their guy, making music for their brain matter. Sure, it's nice you can find him headlining festival stages and all, but he's playing his music for their DMT trip. Why yes, I've had this conversation at the Shambhala Music Festival, why do you ask?

After a couple singles sticking to conventional breaks of the '90s, (big beat, acid crunch, trip-hop), his Twister record marked a sudden change in how his sound would carry forward. The Critical Path is the debut album that followed, and offers ample amounts of that nu-fangled take on the broken-beat. No samples of obscure funk, every piece of rhythm an original construct. Except maybe opener Seldom Vile, in that it at times reminds me of Aphex Twin's Acrid Avid Jam Shred. Hey, I told you nu-skool were aping things IDM had done half a decade prior.

At eleven tracks long, Tipper gets plenty of room to show off all the fancy nu-gimmicks in his computer arsenal, more than half the tracks varied examples of what breaks of the future might evolve into (before the 'tear-out' guys sullied it). This being the year 2000, he gets in a couple trip-hop cuts too, including Zero 7 favourite Sophie Barker on vocals. And what would a breaks album of that period be without a little Hybrid borrowing, a few tunes working in orchestral swells as well.

And the music itself? Well, if you like Phase 1 nu-skool, you probably already have this. It took me a little to get warmed to it myself, and there are portions where Tipper comes down with BT-itis, over-indulging the effects to ludicrous extremes (oh God, are they ever ridiculous in Last Informer - impossible to pay attention to Ms. Barker's lyrics with that much nonsense going on in the background). Overall, I was more impressed by Tipper's sound design than his songcraft, but so long as tunes like Twister, Sort Code, and Supersport have me imagining blistering down hyper-sonic race tracks through ancient temples and lunar colonies, mission accomplished, I say.

Canibus - 2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus)

Universal Music: 2000

For a very brief window, I was listening to every new hip-hop album that entered my little hinterlandian music shop. I didn't actually buy every new item, oh no; this one though, 2000 B.C. (Before Can-I-Bus). I didn't know who Canibus was, but he was dropping bars with an intensity that properly drew me into the artform: battle-rap. Dudes like Del and Deck, firing off fiery metaphors and similes with such complexity and ferocity, few could stand toe-to-toe in the arena. And now here's a guy who's entire deal is doing such a thing, a full album's worth of such bars (and some other nonsense).

Jamaican born, commanding the microphone must have been in Mr. Germaine Williams' blood from the start, making a name for himself throughout the underground freestyle circuit in New York City. It got him noticed by some Very Important Persons in the hip-hop community, including LL Cool J and Wyclef Jean, the latter even producing Canibus' debut album. That... didn't turn out as his fans expected, Wyclef trying to mould Canibus into a commercial star. The album sold well enough, mind you, but heads wanted the real battling 'Bus. Thus for his follow-up 2000 B.C., Canibus throws down as hard as everyone hoped he would.

The album opens with a heavy boom-bap beat while various former bars are stitched together, eventually erupting with a triumphant fanfare as Canibus declares it's The C-Quel. And if that doesn't get you fired up, then the titular cut damn sure well, all apocalyptic choirs as dude doesn't hold back on proclaiming his lyrical greatness (while throwing a couple barbs at Wyclef in the process). The rest of the album pretty much plays out like that, Canibus coming in with a solid Eastcoast beat, going off on how great he is in a myriad of creative ways. Sometimes he brings in other famed lyricists like Rakim, Killah Priest, Rass Kass, and Kurupt, other times he goes off for an unprecedented one-hundred bars (100 Bars). Gander at one of my favourite verses from Doomsday News, for obvious reasons: “If I had half as many bars in gold as I had in lyrics when I flowed; I'd be the richest man on the globe; Niggas wanna know is Canibus gold? That's a stupid-ass question motherfucker, is Canada cold? 'Bout a thousand degrees lower than liquid nitro is.”

I can't say it's all gold, though. Life Liquid has Canibus spitting over-the-top ultra-violence and homophobia to show how 'street hard' he is (Watch Who U Beef Wit's a far better grimdark street cut – message!). A few beef jabs are fine, but Canibus does overplay it with Die Slow and Phuk U. Odd having Pharoahe Monch featuring solo on a pure freestyle in Horsemen. And no matter how creative he does get, hearing Canibus constantly telling you how awesome he is does wear thin by album's end. Beyond those quibbles though, 2000 B.C.'s a dope record for folks who dig rap's true lyrical potential.

Various - Frankie Bones: You Know My Name

Moonshine Music: 2000

Yeah, I know your name. He knows his name. Odds are super-high that even you, dear reader reading this, know his name. I mean, you better, considering I just did a review of another mix CD of his a month ago. Still, there are some who don't know his name, even with it right on the cover.

When this CD dropped, I was working at a music shop with free range to order whatever I felt we needed. Moonshine Music were easy items to get, which I'd let sit for a few weeks before nabbing them for myself. You Know My Name hung around for a while, few giving it much attention, but a pair of teen girls were browsing the store, noticed the CD with Frankie's smug Brooklyn mug looking back at them, to which they said, “Like, as if we'd know his name.” Kids those days, I swear.

You Know My Name was to be Frankie Bones' proper break-out into the lucrative field of DJ mix CDs. For sure he'd been releasing them for a half-decade by the year 2000, though most remained in underground obscurity. United DJs Of America was probably his biggest national exposure in the CD market, and even that set was in service of a running series, forced to rub shoulders with other DJ talents. He had a couple other runs on Brooklyn-based X-Sight Records (Factory 101, Computer Controlled), but Moonshine Music would give him his highest profile commercial set yet, with many more sure to follow as with such previous techno luminaries like Carl Cox, and, um, DJ John Kelley? DJ Brian? ...DJ Micro? Y'know, Moonshine was actually kinda' hurtin' for proper techno mixes over the years. They needed Bones' brand of bosh more than ever!

And he gives them exactly that. After a little skit of a girl arriving at an underground party (I love it when Bones opens his CDs like that), he drops a recognizable anthem in Mario Piu's Communication (sans cheese-ball phone samples), then it's off to the races. Strictly 4am bangin' faceless techno bollocks, served in Frankie's uncompromising Brooklyn style (I've written that phrase before, haven't I...).

In fact, it's almost too uncompromising, music that's all about the relentless assault, things like hooks or melody an afterthought. There's sections that'll get your attention, like the weird noises of Black Lung's Gizmo, abrasive voices in Terrence Fixmer's Electrostatic, red alert sirens of D-Factor's Barana, and whatever phrase is getting looped in any of Bones' own cuts. I can't say much of it sticks with me after though. Frankie's mixing is quick, letting tracks play out a few loops for a couple minutes before moving on. Get in, get out, Get The Fuck Up, as the Bones tune says. Good fun while in the dingy warehouse district in the wee hours of the night, but kinda' monotonous while sitting at home sipping tea.

After this, Bones retreated from the mix CD market. Guess the Moonshine experience soured him on that scene.

Various - West Coast Grooves Volume One: David Alvarado

DMC: 2000

This is when United DJs Of America was irrecoverably changed, a shadow of its former self. Perhaps the series concept had grown redundant, the DJ mix market ballooning to such a degree that spotlighting overlooked US jocks was unnecessary. Everyone was a DJ by the year 2000, and stores were far from lacking in CD options for Yet Another Mix. If DMC wanted to keep this series fresh in the minds of casual consumers, a shake-up was in order. First, do away with that iconic logo – too '90s. Next, implement a cheap-as-fuck cover design, making your product as unappealing in shelves as possible. Finally, cancel the UK market distribution, because who among the Brits really liked American DJs anyway? Amazing this series made it twenty volumes before folding.

United DJs Of America, Vol. 15 was the first in this change, and it shows. DMC was still offering UK options (which I have in my possession), but the only indication this mix was still part of the series is the barcode. Maybe they had some small faith they could translate this 'west coast grooves' concept beyond a volume one, but they sure weren't putting any effort into it.

David Alvarado's a chap I should have come into contact more often, but simply haven't. He's released many singles on Very Important Labels (Peacefrog, Strictly Rhythm, Yoshitoshi, Ovum), has been playlisted by many Very Important DJs (Deep Dish, John Digweed, Terry Lee Brown Jr., lots of minimal tech-haus sorts), yet I have but three scattered tracks of his in my entire library (so sayeth Lord Discogs). Bizarre.

Yeah, I don't know much about Mr. Alvarado. A Los Angeles native, he mostly focused on the deep side of house, shifted towards a techier style when that became more fashionable, and even self-released a techno LP this past year. United DJs Of America – West Coast Grooves finds him still in deep house mode, and he provides a serviceable set of chill Naked-OM vibes with a little Latin flavour thrown in towards the end. Petalpusher (aka: Miguel Migs) shows up, as does Kerri Chandler, but I don't recognize many names beyond those.

An early highlight is the Kevin Yost and Peter Funk track Another World, which plays to their impeccable sense of mellow, dubby jazz-house just as wonderfully as their classic Dreams Of You. Mind, it's not quite as mint as that tune, but it does provide me with an easy, lazy comparison with Mark Farina's Frisko Disco, in that David's set pales compared to it. All the tunes here are fine, but little leaps out at you either, making this perfect background fodder at a swanky club while sipping cocktails, and not much else.

Things aren't looking too hot for United DJs Of America. Think it's time I bail myself out of this series pronto. As luck would have it, a certain expert in escapes just happens to be in L.A. too! What say you, Mr. Plissken?

Mr. Plissken: The name is Snake.

Various - United DJs Of America, Vol. 14: DJ Soul Slinger

DMC: 2000

It took six years, fourteen entries, and seventeen DJs, but d'n'b finally, finally, gets a look-in with United DJs Of America. What, did the U.S. Of A. just not have any love for jungle throughout the '90s? My dudes, of course there was a strong contingent of junglists on this continent, with plenty of prominent DJs doing the rounds. DJ Dara! AK1200! Dieselboy! Freaky Flow! Wait, I'm just listing off jocks that came out on Moonshine. Come to think of it, that was the only significant Stateside label promoting homegrown d'n'b DJs. What gives, Soul Slinger? You had a jungle label, Jungle Sky, and an outlet for it with your Liquid Sky shop. Surely you could have given a few jocks a promotional bump based off your brand? Then again, perhaps America's d'n'b scene simply didn't have enough presence to make national marketing a viable option, not until a print with the financial backing of Moonshine got some cross-continental exposure going.

It's also a surprise that, for as long as he'd been in the business, Carlos Slinger had never made a commercial DJ mix until this point. Yeah, there was Upload: A Continuous Mix a couple years prior, but that one mostly featured his own productions, so was more an album than a proper rinse-out of vinyl crate weapons. Not so here, names like Scitex, TNT (2), Uncle 22, and The Burner Brothers all showing in the Soul Slinger's set for United DJs Of America, Vol. 14. I haven't heard of any o' these cats.

The CD opens with some live crowd action and MCing – was this a live recording? there's no indication in the inlay – and Mr. Slinger shows off his Brazilian roots with his own Zulu Transform (Samba Mix). At first I was worried that such MCing would overtake the music, but it's only for a couple early tracks, and T.C. Izlam doesn't appear again until the very end, where the crowd noise returns for a jump-up remix-singalong to Mike & Ike's Plutonic (you've heard it before as Biz Markie's Just A Friend).

Surprisingly, I wish he did show up a few more times throughout, because the tracks on offer grow rather monotonous after a while. Slinger seems intent on showcasing d'n'b with weird base noises above all else, whether they're a good tune or not. Some of it kicks proper darkstep ass, like Slither's Distorted Minds and Future Cut's Whiplash. Others are hilariously limp or silly - the bassline in DJ Del Mar's Him sounds like a wet fart dribbling out. I don't think the mix CD suited Slinger's particular style, and perhaps he knew it, never releasing another commercial set again. Maybe he preferred focusing on fashion.

New York City has had far too much representation in this series. We need to get out of this place, pronto, and there's only one man for a guest review capable of doing so. What say you, Snake?

Snake: The name's Plissken.

Ras Command - Serious Smokers (The Best Of Ras Command)

Waveform Records: 2000

Ambient dub may have been the foundation Waveform built their early success on, but that don't mean they had no love for the roots of dub music either. I'm talking that righteous irie rude-b'woy Jamaican reggae, mon'. After Phase 1 of the label's existence came to a close (re: had finally tapped out of material exported from Beyond), they were mostly left wandering about in search of their next course of action. For a time, it looked as though they would explore the separate facets of ambient and dub, first with Slumberland, then with Earthjuice. And boy, did Waveform figure Earthjuice was gonna' be a thing, proudly stamping a Volume 1 on it, and flooding the stores with copies. Every time I went on Big City Sojourns to take new musiks back with me to the Canadian Hinterlands, there was Earthjuice, its tropical trees in a rasta-man frame staring back at me. Can't say I was terribly intrigued by it though, my ears demanding the unexpected and unheard - Jamaican dub music isn't known for its diversity.

One individual from that compilation that Waveform seemed keen on was Alex Buchal (aka: Ras Command; aka: Cee-Mix; aka: Kong Fu; aka: L-X; aka: Third Coming; aka: Q-Clones). A German by stock and trade, he mostly peddled in dub music, though dabbled in the realms of d'n'b too, releasing some four albums and a dozen singles across his aliases. He was also suffering from cancer, and passed on early 2000. A couple months after, this 'best of' collection emerged from Waveform. I'm not sure whether the label and Alex were already in the works for such a release, or it was put together after the fact as a tribute - some liner notes regarding this matter would have been helpful.

As for the music, it's about as you'd expect of a reggae dub outing. The sounds are sparse, letting all those echo, reverb, delay, phase, and flange effects on the pianos, melodica, and rhythms breathe and exhale to their heart's content. And they take a heaping toke with every splash of snare, believe you me. Plus, that bass! There's some serious sub-frequency action going on here, my friends, low-ends that only the choicest speakers will properly register. Play these tracks on regular ol' computer or laptop outputs, and there's nothing there, absolutely nothing. This is bass for the true believers, not poseurs who think bass is a mid-range noise.

Most of the tracks come from the two Ras Command In Dub albums, some of which get rather brisk in tempo. A couple cuts from his Cee Mix project that skews more trip-hop also appear, as does the exclusive Love Dub (Drum Mix) cut from Earthjuice. That's about all I have to say with Serious Smokers though. Like I said, it's reggae dub, the most predictable style of downtempo out there. Is it ever the most perfect music for ultra-laidback vibes about though.

Various - Global Underground Nubreed: Steve Lawler

Boxed: 2000

The Nubreed series from Global Underground was set up as a sort of farm league for the main series. It's tough cracking that starting line-up, see, featuring such legendary talents as Sasha, John Digweed, Nick Warren, Dave Seaman, and Danny Tenaglia, and British clubland had plenty of hot, young prospects in the pipeline waiting for that call-up from the big leagues to rub shoulders with the f'n All-Stars. The series didn't last much past 2002, though sees occasional dusting off to promote another wave of generational talents, most recently this past month with a tenth volume featuring Oliver Schories. Wow, I don't know these kids at all.

Of the original Nubreeders, only Danny Howells made it to the big league roster, but Steve Lawler got himself a mini-series called Lights Out. Does that mean he was drafted into his own league? Man, this sports metaphor's stressed, but I can't help it – 'tis the season!

Heck, Lawler's own career fits the metaphor: starting out in real underground settings (street ballin', y'all), struggling in the literal 'beer leagues' (re: playing out at bars), then hitting a personal rock-bottom before lucky fate handed him a Cream residency. The year 2000 proved his big breakout, not only landing this Nubreed mix, but two more DJ mixes (Home on INCredible, Dark Drums on Tide), plus a gig for Essential Mix. Just goes to show you don't have to play for the LA Lakers or NY Yankees to have yourself a successful sportsrun. I'm reaching.

By this point in his career, Lawler had built a rep' as the UK's Danny Tenaglia, that dude who'll take you on a long, deep, dark journey through tribal house and dubby prog. This mix comes out when this sound was deemed official “new hotness” status, both Digweed and Tenaglia's recent offerings on Global Underground paving the way for a few years of relentless, unwavering sweaty thump of a groove. And hoo boy, is Steve ever on that sound, making this my third release in a row with a tribal theme going on. (The... odds...!)

Most prog mixes of the time kept the deep shit on CD1, serving as the warm-up for the energetic, peak-time rinse-outs of CD2. Long wary of jocks relying on anthems, Lawler says nuts to that, going with the deep shit for pretty much the duration of both discs. There are a few recognizable tunes – Tenaglia's Elements, Cevin Fisher's Love You Some More, Green Velvet's Answering Machine (“I don't need. This. Shit!”), but that's not the point of this set. Lawler's goal is to drag you into the club, with him in full swing at his personal peak hour, home listening practicality be damned. It makes his Nubreed offering rather samey throughout, and still comes off like an extended warm-up set before a superstar jock takes over the decks. If you're down for a DJ that can ride such a vibe for that long, you'll probably like this. Prefer a little spicy variety myself.

Biosphere - Cirque

Touch/Biophon Records: 2000/2016

I never thought I'd own a copy of this album. Hear it as some point, sure, as most things old and adored eventually find their way onto streaming services. I might have even bought a digital version - that pile of hay growing on my back can only stack so high. But lo', I stumbled upon an online shop that had actual physical copies of Cirque available, after which I remembered that Microgravity had seen a recent CD re-issue. It didn't occur to me that Geir Jenssen would do the same for his out-of-print material from Touch, but thank lawdy he did, Cirque finally within my grubby hands. Now, about those Namlook and HIA collaborations...

I get ahead of myself. Cirque came out in the year 2000, the fourth official body of work Mr. Jenssen solely released under the Biosphere banner. Not if you include his score for the movie Insomnia, that is. No, not the Christopher Nolan flick with Pacino and Robin Williams; the original Norwegian version from which it was inspired from. Yeah, I can dig the Biosphere stylee fitting with a murder thriller set in the endless day of northern summer. Prior to that, he'd released a little instant-classic by the name of Substrata, to say nothing of his seminal ambient techno work earlier. Tough acts to follow, but considering Cirque is held in the same lofty alpine palaces as its predecessors, there must be something to it.

As with Substrata, the gradual move from pulp sci-fi towards earthly tones is evident in Cirque. You still get that icy, isolationist vibe though, like out in the remote reaches of wintery European realms, though Alaskan can do in a pinch (Cirque has a dedication note to Christopher McCandless, a backpacker that tried to traverse the Alaskan frontier – it didn't go well). Thus we get titles like Nook & Cranny, Miniature Rock Dwellers, Black Lamb & Grey Falcon, Algae & Fungi, and Too Fragile To Walk On. Because if you're inspecting the fauna of Biosphere's homestead, you're likely not to find much else more riveting than lichen.

And like Substratra, that sense of remoteness is accentuated by the minimalist approach Geir applies his craft here. For sure the music sounds full and immersive, but so often impossibly distant too. Nook & Cranny lazily lopes along with a dubbed-out rhythm as gentle strums echo towards the horizon. Le Grand Dôme gets a little groovier and bassy in its beats, but is no less obscured by its dub treatments. Iberia Eterea works in some jazz shuffle with its cold, precise melodies. Even the brisk d'n'b rhythms of Algae & Fungi are strangely obscured by their distant tone, despite their reverb enveloping you as though you're hearing it inside an ice cavern.

Throw in some tasty 'traditional' Biosphere tunes as a bonus with the 2CD re-issue, and you've another mesmerizing piece of work in Geir's discography. Makes holding out for a physical copy that much sweeter for your truly.

Various - Winter Chill 2

Hed Kandi: 2000

Something funny happened in the year between the first Winter Chill and its inevitable sequel: chill-out music as a commercial juggernaut became a thing. For sure it's always had a marketable undercurrent within club culture, dating as far back as when The KLF specifically made an album to chill out to called Chill Out. Whether it be ambient dub, Balearic jazz, trippy hip-hop, or whatever trendy, laid-back vibe was currently circulating, mentally exhausted punters could always rely on a few selections in the music shops to ease their frazzled brains. Then someone in the high towers of record labels realized there were more folks out there who could use a little downtime music in their lives than the Ecstasy Generation, and chill-out compilations suddenly exploded upon the scene with several CDs featuring the same songs you already had in a different order. Sure as shit Hed Kandi wasn't immune to this trend.

Think I'm exaggerating? Second track on Winter Chill 2: Moby's Porcelain. Third track: Chicane's No Ordinary Morning. Fourth track: Delerium's Silence. Tenth track: Thievery Corporation's Lebanese Blonde. CD1 also features songs from Bent, Goldfrapp, Dusted, A Guy Called Gerald, and The Beloved. You getting a sense of familiarity yet? Hell, CD2 opens with Paul van Dyk's Vega! Yeah, it's a nice enough chill tune, Mr. Van Dyk having a stab at jazzstep, but these are all darn obvious names to have on a chill-out collection, even for the year 2000 when the concept still had a fresh fragrance. The series did course correct in later volumes, though Winter Chill itself only lasted six volumes before Hed Kandi was bought out by Ministry Of Sound, save a one-off return in 2012. You bet your bottom dollar its got nothing to do with 'chill-out' music!

Back to Winter Chill 2, even Hed Kandi head-man Mark Doyle knew including the likes of Moby, Delerium, and Paul van Dyk was little more than a shameless commercial tactic to lure in the impulse buy, and thus ignores such artists in his inlay notes. Instead, he once again big-ups his label's own talent like the jazzier Afterlife and Urban Dwellers, which is fair play if you're having them rub shoulders with chill-out's newest stars.

If all this 'suburban downtempo' music isn't cutting it for you, there's always CD2. Vega aside, this is where most of the trip-hop and acid jazz vibes are hiding out, many tracks care of the rising Studio K7! that Mr. Doyle was quite eager in hyping. Thus you find Tosca, Terranova, Smith & Mighty, Handsome Boy Modeling School (Dan The Automator!), and... LTJ Bukem? Well, he did have a debut album out that same year. And yeah, CD2 is definitely more of the downtempo vibe I prefer in compilations of this sort, with plenty of smooth, smokey rhythms, soulful strings, dubby atmosphere, and sultry vocals throughout. As a means of introducing music on a proper deep tip to soccer moms who bought this for Silence, I'd say Winter Chill 2 does right.

Dusted - When We Were Young

Nettwerk: 2000/2001

It's criminal the amount of folks who overlook this album. No, I've empirical evidence backing this up, barely four-hundred copies owned by denizens of Discogs. By comparison, over twenty-seven hundred Discogians have some version of Outrospective from Faithless, Rollo's main super-famous popular project. But I get it: despite the glowing critical praise Dusted earned with this debut, few knew what to make of it. It didn't help ol' Roland isn't much of an attention hound, always hiding in the producer's cubby while others reap the glory from his efforts (Sister Bliss, Maxi Jazz, Dido), to say nothing of Mark Bates' contributions here. There was little media promoting it too, just a Deep Dish remix and a rather crap CGI video supporting the lead single Always Remember To Respect Your Mother. And while the artwork is an obvious homage to Maurice Sendak's Where The Wild Things Are, it's not the sort of style your average punter is gonna' find themselves drawn too. Nay, wait until they're at mid-life, and reflections on childhood innocence while tending to a child yourself becomes far more poignant.

That, in a nutshell, is likely why When We Were Young failed to gain 'classic album status' despite all the musical muscle supporting such an honour: its audience was just too niche. Still, folks weaned on copious amounts of Faithless should vibe on the opening few tracks. Childhood sets the stage in a dreamy morning-after bliss as many of Rollo's best chilled-out instrumental pieces so often do, while follow-up Time Takes Time goes for more of a soul-fusion slant. Want U and Hurt U tread into trip-hop territory, with a growing sense of youthful uncertainty and anxiety coming to grips with experiencing such emotions for the first time. Capping this stretch off with the creepy If You Go Down To The Woods, as though you're lost and alone in an unknown world, and you're more than ready to accept the loving, tender embrace of Always Remember To Respect Your Mother, Pt. 1, Dido's operatic vocals carrying you to places safe and warm again.

And that's just the first half of this brilliant album!

From there, When We Were Young grows more mature sounding, soulful croons from Luke Garwood mostly leading the way. There's further dalliances into trip-hop (Always Remember To Respect Your Mother, Pt. 2, Winter), cheeky weirdness for a 'lawf' (The Oscar Song), gospel exuberance (The Biggest Fool In The World, Under The Sun), and folksy reflection (Oh, How Sweet, If I Had A Child). And yeah, these are just broad genre descriptors, as Rollo and Bates never settle into any one tidy style, fusing everything into a sound that's unmistakably theirs. I mean, you've heard it before, during the downtime in most Faithless records.

When We Were Young is essentially the mellow-chill creativity of Rollo unleashed – no need of adhering to club anthems or Maxi Jazz lyrics here, my friends. If that isn't enough of a selling point of this album, I don't know is.

Ice Cube - War & Peace Vol. 2 (The Peace Disc)

Priority Records: 1998

I feel the second volume of Ice Cube's War & Peace duo-album concept was better received than the first, as everyone finally accepted where Mr. Jackson was in his life. Sure, it'd be dope as all Hell if he came out with some fiery social commentary about The State Of The 'Hood, but after so much financial success, was he really the man for the task anymore? By the turn of the century, a lot of elder statesmen of rap were getting well paid, and couldn't realistically keep talking about 'ghetto shit' as a lived experience. Offer insight and commentary, sure, and perhaps provide helpful guidance to the young bucks coming up (but don't y'all think you can dethrone the G.O.A.T.s without a fight, no sir). If you wanted the serious conscious stuff though, there were other acts providing it, and Cube was more interested in maintaining a brand for himself than dropping heavy with the lyrical political.

Thus when he let it be known that The Peace Disc was going to be of a much lighter fare than anything he'd done in the past, folks were at least ready for it. Willing, that's another matter, many old Cube fans all but disowning the product sight-unheard, especially after the dismal reactions to The War Disc. On the other hand, It Was Good Day remained one of Cube's longest, endearing tunes, and he'd shown a somewhat friendlier side in his Friday movies. If anything, the aggro-gangsta posturing of The War Disc came off more disingenuous compared to club-ready singles like We Be Clubbin' and You Can Do It. Considering I heard the latter in even back-water 'clubs' of B.C. hinterland haunts, I'd say he succeeded in providing something fun.

And the bump-n-grind don't stop there, tracks like Can You Bounce? featuring a gnarly bassline, Gotta Be Insanity featuring the vintage P-funk, Waitin' Ta Hate featuring the vintage trunk-thump, and You Ain't Gotta Lie featuring Chris Rock dropping a bunch of hilarious brags. Elsewhere, Cube reunites with Dr. Dre and MC Ren for a little N.W.A. gangsta reflection, while hinting at a possible reunion (which they did do, but with Snoop Dogg filling in for the deceased Eazy-E). He also drops some knowledge on shady label businesses (Record Company Pimpin'), and offers an uplifting outlook for the youth with Krayzie Bone in Until We Rich. Plus a bunch of the usual gangsta crowing and hater grips scattered throughout, but who cares about those.

Frankly, beyond just being completely honest in its intents, what makes The Peace Disc better than The War Disc is the production. Vol. 1 somehow felt cheap and plastic as a lot of late '90s hip-hop does, but in Vol. 2, the beats bounce harder, the hooks land sharper, and the funk flows freer. Even the guest spots are of higher calibre (because who really gave a shit about Mr. Short Khop?). As a trifle hour of escapism then, War & Peace Vol. 2 succeeds, but that's all.

Wu-Tang Clan - The W

Loud Records: 2000

The first proper Wu-Tang Clan album I bought for myself, and not a bad one at that, but I can already hear the “tut-tut”ing from long time disciples. Why not get Enter 36 Chambers first, as you're supposed to do even if you're not a fan or the Wu-Tang Clan? Well, as the first Wu record I ever bought was The RZA Hits, it felt redundant springing for another record that had nearly half the same tracks on it (I was stupid for thinking that). Second, The W came out the following year I fell sway to the charms of hip-hop, so it was only logical I scoped that shit out post-haste, my honeymoon glow still preventing any sense of critical consideration.

The W has gone on to be one of the Clan's most difficult albums to talk about, in that it seems everyone has utterly conflicting feelings about it. They love that it's pared down to an easily digestible hour-long effort, yet surely the group had more to offer than just this? It's nifty hearing guest spots from other prominent rappers, but aren't they taking the limelight away from all the talent already within the group itself? All Clan members sound matured, sharp and on point, with even some of the weaker members finally coming into their own as lyricists, but have lost that spitting Hell-fire of their debut in the process. How great it is to hear the Wu over RZA beats for a full album (save a lone Mathematics cut), but only around half the tracks are actually memorable. Let's detail couple now!

Chamber Music: urgent strings with crackly samples. Careful (Click, Click): herky-jerky, sample-snapping, creepy woodwinds; definitely feels like you're in a claustrophobic gun-toting, warzone. Protect Ya Neck (The Jump Off): bouncy, loopy, with a great key-change mid-track, ruined by a lame U-God brag verse. Gravel Pit: even bouncier, a track totally aimed for the club, but at least RZA freely admits its intents, so it's a lot of fun (looks like they had fun playing cavemen in the video too).

Then there are weaker cuts, like the endlessly looping soul sample from Hollow Bones, and the plodding *thump-thump clap-clap* of One Blood Under W with Junior Reed. Ah well, the famed dancehall toaster gets a better track to close the album out on with the mournful Jah World. Speaking of guests, Snoop Dogg inexplicably appears with ODB in Conditioner with a bog-standard 'pimpz & hoes' verse. Okay, that's not accurate, the Dirt Dawg recording through a jail phone booth, hence the low-grade quality. I guess RZA realized there wasn't enough material there for a track, but Year 2000 Snoop's the last person up to the task of pinch-hitting for the Wu.

Okay, enough gripes. I do enjoy more than dislike stuff on The W, even if it comes off like much of the Clan's best material was now behind them. Then again, some of Method Man's lyrics in hidden track Clap have forever stuck with me. I don't know why.