Various - Shadow: Hard Sessions

Shadow Records: 2001

When Shadow Records started their big push out of underground obscurity, they knew more markets than their traditional blazed-out audience needed attention. Fine and all continuing the promotion of trip-hop, illbient (aka: trippier hop), and abstract jazz funk, but geez, look at all the bank house, trance, and techno was making too. It wouldn't hurt to dabble a little in those scenes, would it? No, not at all. Just set up a couple new compilation series as an introduction, offer them up at a reduced rate to entice the curious, and scour the lands of America for talent interested in a record deal. Search high and low for them too, oh Shadow lords, even the backwaters of northwestern British Columbia (yes, this did happen!).

Hard Sessions was set up as the label's showcase of the more aggressive acts within Shadowland’s sphere of interest. While mostly overlooked d'n'b (though ASC makes an early career appearance in Hard Sessions 2!), in a move that surprised many, this first volume features techno from Dietrich Schoenemann, a veteran of the ambient and experimental circuit. He'd released material on Shadow's ambient parent label Instinct, so it's not like ol' Diets was a complete unknown, but what's he doing here on Hard Sessions? For that matter, what's he doing offering up head-down pulsing techno workouts with his two tracks here, Dark Sight and Autumn Ground? The former thumps with all the minimalist fury of a Jeff Mills cut, and the latter goes for the dark, tribal jugular of a 4am bender in a dank warehouse. It’s not the hard, bangin’ shit, but it’s solid stuff, and totally at odds with everything else on Hard Sessions. Hey, I appreciate Shadow’s attempt at subjecting die-hard junglists to something outside their comfort zone, but maybe an entirely different compilation dedicated to techno would have been a better option.

Including the two Dietrich cuts, ten tracks make up this compilation, two per artist. The artists range from the highly prolific to the hopelessly obscure. For instance, Hard Sessions opens with smooth flowing tech-step ofSo Dark Now from Magnetic, or David Harrow to Lord Discogs. He had two albums on Shadow Records, plus a few more LPs following that label’s folding. Then there’s the other work David Harrow’s accomplished as High Stepper, Technova, Oicho... holy cow, does this guy have a huge discography! Then there’s Illform (Quentin Allen), who only released but one album of d’n’b with Shadow, though had a little more success with deep house as Karu after. Quite a contrast there, mang’.

Hanna, another prolific producer, provides more d’n’b with a jazzy bent, while weirdo cybernetic, abstract, broken-jungle one-shot group Droid rounds out the rest. No, really, I can’t think of any other way to describe Droid. It’s like Amon Tobin’s more spastic moments fed through a Detroit jazz factory. Worth a listen just to believe. So is Hard Sessions too, if you ever stumble upon it on the cheap. Discover a few great producers in the process!

Various - Saint-Germain-Des-Prés Café

Wagram Music: 2001

I didn't think much of it at the time, glancing at the back of the digipak in that used music shop some years past. A few names I recognized – Jazzanova, De-Phazz, and St Germain of course – but most were new to my eyes. And right they should have been, what with acid jazz, nu-jazz, and all their variations the sort of style I only indulged in on a whim from trusted labels (Ninja Tune, Studio !K7, Quango). Still, sometimes the best purchases are those you take the biggest chances are, and that itch for something ‘electro-jazz’ wasn’t going away. I mean, you really couldn’t go wrong with a DJ mix from St Germain, right? Absolutely not!

Except that’s not what Saint-Germain-Des-Prés Café is in the slightest. Oh, it’s definitely a nu-jazz collection, but aside from contributing a track, the Ludovic Navarre project has nothing to do with this CD. Rather, the name comes from the Paris district where extensional free-thinkers would engage in discourse over brunch in neighbourhood cafés. Or stare off into streets, smoking cigarettes, aloof in their demeanour. I don’t know, my knowledge of Paris coffee culture is primarily derived from parody. Point is, this was intended as a soundtrack to such locales, a fine enough idea with nu-jazz having some decent buzz about it back at the turn of the century. It must have been more successful than imagined, as it turned into a yearly series, which is still going on today! Sixteen volumes of the main, including themed offshoots, plus multiple box sets to bring you up to speed should you join the Saint-Germain Café craze late in the game. And here I thought it was just some random, forgotten DJ mix.

What’s so interesting about this series is it couldn’t have remained more relevant than in the here and now. Nu-jazz had its following back in the day, but for the most part you’d only hear the stuff at coffee lounges (this compilation, d’uh), hovels deep in urban hipster locales, or afterparty lofts. All of a sudden though, this style of music has seen a resurgence on streaming stations and side stages of the festival circuit, often getting billed as ‘electro-swing’. *sigh* Once again something old is thought of as something new, because a younger generation doesn’t know any better. Or maybe there is some difference, though tracks like Rubin Steiner’s Lo-Fi Nu Jazz #13 and Bugge Wesseltoft’s G.U.B.N.U.F. on here sounds about what a sub-genre called ‘electro-swing’ should be all about. Whatever, swing music was due for another retro-retro-retro return anyway, Brian Setzer having faded from current memory (but never forget Doop!).

And the rest of Saint-Germain-Des-Prés Café? Yeah, it’s jazzy alright. I personally prefer the tunes with some double-time bass action, but there’s plenty of different moods, vibes, and grooves throughout. I’d get into all the variations if I had much clue of jazz’s all too-many nuances. I prefer staying on the outskirts of this scene, thanks.

Aphex Twin - Drukqs

Warp Records: 2001

Why, I remember a time when we took new Aphex Twin music for granted, by g'ar. You bet we received Drukqs with barely passing attention. “Yeah, yeah, it's fine,” we shrugged, “but when will you release Selected Ambient Works 3, Mr. James? Or redefine IDM again like with so many other prior albums and EPs?” How were we to know our lackadaisical interest in a double-LP opus would all but force the Aphex'd One into permanent production privacy, pulling a near KLF disappearance from the world of music. Yeah, there were all those acid singles as AFX, but not as Aphex Twin, the pseudonym everyone cared about (re: primarily knew). All these meticulously crafted drill’n’bass electro dancing in your brain, the attempts at ‘real’ music with pianos, harpsichords, and other assorted chamber instruments, all wasted on a selfish audience, wondering why Radiohead was going on about this guy so much.

Or, y’know, ol’ Richie had a pile of unused demo music and discarded braindance B-sides lying about and shoved Drukqs out for some quick dosh. Either scenario wouldn’t surprise me.

For all the music on these two CDs, this album honestly does sound like two different ones mashed together. Half of it is made up of the aforementioned drillin’ breaks, the sort that still sounds indebted to Squarepusher but with enough of Aphex Twin’s quirky fills, changes in tone, melancholic ambient, and irreverent sense of humor making it distinctly his own. If this just sounds like retreads of Richard D. James Album, I counter these tunes off Drukqs are far better polished, even the most extreme glitched-out moments having a logical sense of musical flow to them. Plus, the production is incredibly slick, sounds never mashed into senseless noise even as any number of digital bits and pieces are flying about. Of course, by 2001 much of the IDM world had caught up to such tricks, so that folks wouldn’t be as impressed by Aphex’s efforts isn’t surprising. That doesn’t make them any less mint though.

The other half comprises all the classically minded compositions, most running a couple minutes of noodling about on keyboards of various types. The only unique thing about these is how Mr. James recorded a fair amount of the mechanical process involved in these instruments: the shuffling of pedals, the light plonks of ivory within wooden casings, and even his occasional faulty human flubs. For all I know though, this is a technique many pianists employ – I’m simply not well-versed in that field of music for any comparison. All I can tell is Aphex does craft some lovely little ditties, and a few utterly ART-wanky percussion pieces too (that said, Gwarek 2’s fun with headphones!).

Many came around to Drukqs when it seemed no new Aphex Twin material would ever materialize, so the album has gotten it’s just due now. It’s still better served for folks with some prior knowledge of his music before going in though. Not a beginner’s LP, this.

Various - Rewind: Mark Farina

DMC: 2001

Also known as United DJs Of America 9: Frisco Disco. For some odd reason, DMC started up this Rewind series as a means of reissuing DJ mix CDs from their vaults. Not an entirely daft idea, given the long line of mixes the label had released over the years, but most of their choices were barely two or three years old. Nor was Rewind restricted to the United DJs Of America series, also dipping into Mixmag Live! back catalogue. I can only guess this had something to do with their new partnership with Razor & Tie, who specialized in reissues, though primarily of old timey jams and jingles. Gotta' corner all the markets though.

But most of ya'll don't care about these mundane label details. Nay, you're here because you're of the old school, and recognize this CD as one of the all-time greats of late-'90s deep house. You're here to read me give Frisco Disco the high praise you know it deserves. You're here because Mark Farina's mix is the sort of weapon unleashed upon all the new kids who figure the modern era of deep house is all that, when folks from the before times (the long long ago) know much of it's the bunk, so here's some proper t'ings to get edumacated on. And oh so right you are.

Honestly, the whole set can be summed up with Peter Funk's Dreams Of You, one of the most utterly lush slices of deep house records crafted (Those strings! That xylophone! And guitar! And organ! The rhythm! That looping vocal!). Nearly everyone I knew snagged up a copy of Frisco Disco for that one track alone, though the rest of Farina's selections aren’t shabby either.

Already making a name for himself on the West Coast of America, he gained more exposure abroad with the Mushroom Jazz series for the fledgling OM Records. House remained his preferred style at the clubs though, and Frisco Disco is an amalgamation of his funky, jazzy Chicago roots coupled with sunny, soulful San Fran’ style, even with half his records coming from UK producers (‘tis a global vibe, yo’). Farina’s live mix does sound a bit rough in parts (a little too much fiddling with the bass knob for my liking), he throws in a few clever tricks along the way. The opening groove has a few samples from upcoming tracks thrown in as teasers for what’s to come, and he pulls a few extended layered mixes along the way. He saves his best for the last though, playing two versions of Naked Music NYC’s It’s Love one after the other, each so similar that it comes off as though it keeps going on forever. And damn do you never want it to stop either. End Frisco Disco must though, and Farina settles for a bumpin’ slowdown of Sixteen Souls’ Late Night Jam with added sounds of birds singing in the morning sun. Whoa, the dawn’s already here? Damn, this party went by fast.

Various - In Trance We Trust 006: DJ Cor Fijneman

In Trance We Trust: 2001

Last round, I lamented ending up with Cor Fijneman’s first mix for In Trance We Trust, as his immediate follow-up looked more interesting of the two. Well fret not, 2013 Sykonee (oh God, I’m doing this…), because your future self will enjoy In Trance We Trust 006 after all. Oh, and while I’m conversing with Near-Past Me, you ought to get on that Silent Season label’s CDs before it’s too late. Trust me.

ITWT005 caught me off guard by high the average BPM was, so thoroughly subjected to trance’s gradual slowing throughout the ‘00s as I was. However, the Blackhole sublabel was initially designed as an outlet for the harder, clubbier side of the genre, so I shouldn’t have been. Yet, diving into ITWT006, fully expecting a brisk tempo from the outset, I’m still struck dumb by how fast these tunes are. They’re not the hard-hard form of trance either (freeform?), mostly hanging around melodic side of things the Dutch jocks adored.

And what’s this? Tunes with energy and drive. Synths flying in from space. Hooks that aren’t sap. Bangin’ 4am tech-trance business. Freakin’ old school acid trance! I know the release date on this claims 2001, but ol’ Cor’s mix sure feels like a ‘90s one. It’s not like he’s included a pile of older producers and tracks in here either. Yeah, Mr. Lieb get’s repped, and Airwave had a solid discography behind him by that point. Many more on here were just breaking out though, and would go on to have lengthy, respectable careers. Marco V’s here! Orkidea’s here (providing a mint remix to Tiësto’s Flight 643)! Darren Tate’s here (as Citizen Caned)! Of course Mr. Fijneman’s here too, bringing in a Geert Huinink assist for a surprisingly solid tech-trance outing in 10 PM. Unfortunately, Geert Huinink is also in at his Geertiest on the track Escalator from Headstrong. Too… much… Dutch…

While most of these trance tunes tickle me right, ol’ Cor’s mixing still isn’t much to get fussed about. That said, his set construction’s mostly sound, melodic stuff dealt with early, and then segueing into pounding tech-trance for a strong finish. Oh, except for one utterly daft moment near the end with cheese-mongers Dance Nation’s Sunshine (with Mr. Fijneman on the rub of course), hopelessly misplaced in- ah, forget it. The CD’s been good, and you’ve earned this silly moment, Cor. Nu-italo lives!

Anyone new to trance will figure In Trance We Trust 006 as rather old-fashioned these days. We better get a Street Fighter who’s about as old-fashioned as they come, T. Hawk. This guy’s so old-fashioned, it’s like he’s an old-timey stereotype!

T. Hawk: Hn. I’ll ignore that. The music does little for me. Some okay rhythm, not much else. That’s all I have to say about this.






Nothing at all? How about some of these titles, like Spirit In The Sky?

T. Hawk: …






Mysteries Of Life?

T. Hawk: …






The Journey? Nothing?

T. Hawk: …






Implacable.

T. Hawk: Yes.

Solar Fields - Reflective Frequencies

Ultimae Records: 2001/2008

You’d think Solar Fields’ debut album would get talked up often, but it’s hardly ever mentioned. For most, Magnus Birgersson’s project starts whenever they were first exposed to one of his later albums. The psy scene caught on to him with Blue Moon Station, the trance scene joined in with EarthShine, and most chill-out aficionados hitched their wagons with Movements. I’m sure late-comers were aware older Solar Fields LPs existed, but only the hardcore would invest in them, in part due to scarcity of limited issue runs. Then again, if you’re really curious, there’s always the digital realm, but that’s denying experiencing a Solar Fields album proper-like, hard copy in hand on a full sound system. You know I’m right!

*Ahem*. In all seriousness, I think Reflective Frequencies goes neglected because of how un-Solar Fieldsy it generally sounds. While Mr. Birgersson often hops genres with every full-length outing, he always retains a distinct emotional core within his music that’s uniquely his own, a warmth that can melt the coldest of hearts. Such attributes are seriously lacking on his debut though, where sound experiments and stark ambient techno rule the day. In all honesty, Reflective Frequencies sounds very much like a Future Sound Of London album, and I’ve no doubt you could fool a casual listener of that should one be so tempted to.

There’s future-shock trip-hop (6.7, Blue Light…, …Red Vortex, Inherit Velocity, Zero Rotation), cybernetic sound collages (Echoing Spectrum, Self Transforming Experience (First Movement), Overlapping Particles, Nea 3, Breathing Neutron Empire), and trippy ambient techno as heard echoing through dead cities (Floating Channels, Zone 12, Outlined Surfaces). Tell me those descriptors don't sound like a long lost mid-’90s FSOL album. And dammit, I know I shouldn’t make that comparison, but it’s hard shaking off. If you add a little extra psychedelia and a conceptual narrative to Reflective Frequencies, you’d have the album most folks expected Cobain and Dougans to deliver about the same year rather than The Isness.

Which still isn’t the best selling point for a Solar Fields debut album, is it? Ah well, for an ‘ambient techno by way of FSOL’ LP, Reflective Frequencies is plenty good, and contain little touches throughout that hint at the music Mr. Birgersson would craft in the future. Zero Rotation has a small amount of prog groove bubbling underneath, while Self Transforming Experience (Second Movement) and Outlined Surfaces are more in line with sort of psy-chill Ultimae was interested in promoting going forward. It wouldn’t surprise me if ol’ Magnus felt compelled to fall lock-step with the blissy vibes of the psy scene rather than continue exploring harsh electronics.

The liner notes mention Reflective Frequencies was recorded in 1999, and does it ever sound like a ‘90s album, many sections fitting for a cyberpunk thriller or PC game. It’s an odd outlier in the Solar Fields and Ultimae canon, an example of both producer and label still discovering their latent talents in a cybernetic realm. How Gibsony of them.

Various - Rave-Trance 2001

Electronic Dance Essentials: 2001

On the surface, Rave-Trance 2001 is the chintziest pieces of bargain-bin detritus you'll ever come across. I certainly thought so, and prepared for a good guffaw upon flipping it over to see what names made up the track list. I wasn't disappointed, such hilarious credits including DJ Ibiza, DJ Airbourne, DJ Pebbles, DJ Glamer, and Bypass Unit. Wait, Bypass Unit? Those guys were awesome, a dope blend of German trance and early goa. What are they doing on this? For that matter, might the other tracks be just as good?

Not really, most of the tunes sounding quite dated by post-millennial standards. The mixing's barely adequate, occasional vocals corny as all Hell, and CD1 features an awful, flat mono mastering, utterly shameful for the modern era. Still, it's mid-'90s German trance, with plenty of spacey acid, driving rhythms, and delicious minor-key melodies throughout, thus giving me the wayback feels no matter how dodgy the packaging. It was something of a revelation even finding such a CD in 2001, figuring all the sounds that drew me into trance had been kicked to the curb in favour grotesque Dutch excess. But music aside, Rave-Trance 2001 is rather fascinating in its own right.

For instance, Electronic Dance Essentials is a sub-label of Big Eye Records, whom in turn is a sub-label of Cleopatra. Suddenly the cheap presentation made a lot more sense, but this story gets even better. While submitting Rave-Trance 2001 to the mighty Lord Discogs (because of course I'd be the only contributor with a copy), I discovered an identical tracklist on an obscure 1999 ZYX Music double-disc set called The World Of Dream & Trance. So not only did a sub-sub label of Cleopatra release a cheap-looking collection of trance with music far better than expected, but did so by 'copy & pasting' another unremarkable release from a label that has – as far as I know – absolutely no association with Cleopatra, for no reason other than 'just because'.

But wait, this story gets even better! The World Of Dream & Trance may not have much going for it, but regarding its origins... hoo boy! The World Of... is a long-running series of double-disc collections from ZYX Music featuring such eclectic gatherings as rock, soul, reggae, house, salsa, techno, italo, rap, schlager, Russische folklore, surf music, krautrock, Indian pop, jodeln, truckers, and telefonansagen. What. The. F!? There's even a release for phone sex conversations. Who buys this stuff?

All this delightful associative info, but possibly the most interesting comes from an anecdote. While moving from one Canadian hinterland to another, I stopped over at a town where a couple friends lived for a rave happening that night. At the pre-party house, I rummaged through the host’s CDs as I’m wont to do, and saw a familiar blue sleeve with tacky clip-art and unrelated Time Magazine quote on the back. “Oh, wow,” I say to owner, “You have this too?” “Yeah,” she replied, “It’s a great CD, isn’t it!” It sure is.

Various - Dub Selector

Quango Records: 2001

Okay, regarding the 'out of alphabetical order' conundrum surrounding these Quango compilations, I wasn't entirely truthful in the last review. See, I first realized something awry in my music collection's sorting when I passed by all those dub-titled albums two years ago without this one coming through. After a quick search enquiry, I found Dub Selector and its sequel sitting way down in the 'Q's along with a bunch of other Quango compilations. Not really in a hurry to talk up even more dub music so soon, I let them set fallow until such time I should deal with them again. And that time... is now! Ahem...

Anyhow, the selection of dub on Dub Selector skews less reggae roots and more UK downtempo and chill. This, from an American label based in Los Angeles. I keep thinking there’s some meaning behind that, but damn if I know what it is. The artists that make up Dub Selector range far and wide too. Cottonbelly mostly hails from New York City, whereas G-Corp are strictly English. Then you have Germans Boozoo Bajou sharing CD space with French acts like St Germain, Grant Phabao, and I:Cube; elsewhere, there’s Kieser.Velten and The Lost Skrolls Of Hamaric, whom hail from Austria I think. Ah yes, the ol’ Kruder & Dorfmeister connection. Wait, are there any Jamaican acts on Dub Selector? I spy a Luciano (no, not the tech-doff house DJ), but his Police And Thieves is given the remix treatment by G-Corp. At the other end of Dub Selector, there’s Sizzla’s Rain Showers, but he’s remixed by UK duo Bronx Dogs.

Not that I should be terribly surprised by any of this. ‘Jamaican Dub By Way Of White Europeans’ had existed for many years by the time Dub Selector came out, and will continue to existfor many years to come. Not that any of these acts are the bunk either, like so much ‘cod reggae’ goes - each handle the cavernous reverb and groovy, spliffed-out vibes with as much class as you’d expect of producers well-versed in the style. Heck, some of those East Europeans even add a new wrinkle, Kieser.Velten’s Dubolition and How To Find Royal Jelly from the Skrolls guys more on a jazzy-tech tip than pure roots influenced. It wouldn’t surprise me if the likes of Swayzak play-listed something similar – it’s the sort of sound you’d sooner find in gentrified hang-outs than filling dancehall spots.

Like these other Quango compilations, Dub Selector makes for a handy introduction to the world of downtempo dub, though only one slice of it. I honestly have no idea why Bruno Guez, the mastermind behind Quango, opted for such a Euro-centric exposé. Maybe it was simply a means of reeling in potential listeners with something safe and familiar, fresh-faced followers of chilled-out electronic music not quite ready for the pure roots of reggae-influenced dub. Well played if so, but it leaves the connoisseur wanting for options more bold in their selections.

ACE TRACKS:
Luciano - Police And Thieves (G-Corp Remix)
Grand Phabao - Anoub Head Yudu
The Lost Skrolls Of Hamaric - How To Find Royal Jelly

Various - Cosmic Funk

Quango Records: 2001

And I’m done the ‘Q’s. Yep, in a music collection that’s inching ever closer to four digits worth of EPs, LPs, and miscellaneous peas, I have but one album that starts with this letter. It honestly blows my mind I’ve more options in the letter ‘X’ – hooray for the X-Mix series, I guess. Even my media player tried bumping the ‘Q’ count up in sending a bunch of Quango Records compilations this way, an error I could have corrected months ago but held off on. I wasn’t in a hurry to tackle these, you see, quite content in listening to Cosmic Funk and Dub Selector for later. After all, I alphabetically backtrack enough as it is, and this way I’ve a semi-reasonable excuse in giving ‘Q’ a little extra attention, even if Cosmic Funk has nary a ‘Q’ in sight beyond the label that released it.

Anyhow, when Quango relaunched in the year 2000, they kicked things off by releasing a series of affordable compilations with simple titles and big fonts. As per the label’s manifesto, these CDs focused on far-flung styles of music, serving as handy introductions to the world of electronic beats abroad. Cosmic Funk was the first, but other selections included Mystic Groove, Afrotech, Lush Life Electronica, and Nordic Exposure (wait a minute…). With a solid mix of well-known acts and obscure outliers, Quango provided the ultimate bluffer’s guide in building a more ‘cultured’ collection of electronic music.

One problem with this particular release though: faulty advertising! Oh, there’s funk to be found in these eight tracks, but none of it is particularly ‘cosmic’. There are Latin vibes, Afro grooves, and a touch of the Balearic in there too, but not once did I find myself transplanted to the cosmic fantastic. No groovin’ to Moon tunes, no sailing along Saturn rings, no gettin’ down to Ganymede geysers, no cruisin’ on interstella’ comets, and no gallivanting the galactic core. Nope, we’re stuck on boring ol’ Earth. Oh well, at least this wasn’t as disappointing as getting that ambient dub compilation titled Ambient Dub that had not a trace of ambient on it (seriously).

What we do get with Cosmic Funk are some seriously funky jams drawing influence from disparate corners of the world. Hell, The Funky Lowlives show no fear in fusing them together, their two offerings of Notabossa and Latezz bringing chunky beats, Latin swing, and jazzy guitar licks to the table. The biggest names on here are Miguel Migs and Jay-J, collaborating as Migs & Jelly for a similar styled track (Enter The Soul) as The Funky Lowlives provided, while East Village Headz round out that side of the spectrum in Rude Vibez. The other half of goes more the Afro-funk route, with names like Neon Phusion, Kaidi Tatham, and New Sectors Movements being repped. Yeah, sorry, I know little about these cats.

Since Quango’s folded, you likely won’t find Cosmic Funk anywhere but as a used option. For a fiver though, ‘tis mighty fine.

Various - Psychotrance 2002: DJ Brian

Moonshine Music: 2001

Hold a sec'…! Didn’t the Psychotrance series feature a different DJ with each iteration? What was D:Fuse doing getting two in a row then? Did Moonshine have plans for him turning it into his own annual thing? No, that couldn’t have been so – normally DJs had their own series on the label. Like that DJ Brian fella’, he had Hardesertrance to himself, so I’m sure if D:Fuse was to be the designated ‘progressive trance guy’ at Moonshine, they’d have done the same for him. Probably just a coincidence of circumstance then; either that, or even D:Fuse wasn’t pleased with Psychotrance 2000, and wanted a do-over for Psychotrance 2001. Isn’t suppositional speculation fun?

Speaking of that DJ Brian fella’, he got to do Psychotrance 2002, as bizarre a choice for the series as any of the non-trance DJs from the ‘90s were. Wasn’t he known to the Moonshine audience as the 'psy trance guy'? Ignore the fact his mixes for the label only had a tangential relationship with that scene - when folks play any sort of trance in the desert, they automatically assume psy. I mean, what other trance makes sense in hot climes or under starry, dry nights? If Psychotrance was to be relaunched as Moonshine's answer to Global Underground, Cream, and (*snicker*) Topaz’s Nokturnal Mix Sessions, going the psy route at a time when the genre was deep in remission wasn't going to do the series any favors. Especially if rinsed out by a jock who, let's be honest, never got much fame beyond the Moontribe posse (respect!).

That DJ Brian fella' though, he knew how to treat Pscyhotrance proper-like, by taking it back to its roots and offering up a set that is almost entirely techno. Yep, in a turn of events that shouldn't have surprised anyone who'd picked up Hardesertrance 3 (*cough*), Mr. Golub brings us a CD full of bangin', tribal business. Some tracks have elements of goa, such as squelchy acid in Spacefrog and Timelord’s rub of Resistance D.’s Feel High, or floaty ethnic chants in Ritual from Seed (that DJ Brian fella’) vs Teapot (a DJ Treavor fella’). Other tracks get deeper into tech-trance’s realm, at least the older school of the sound that Oliver Lieb was producing under multiple aliases (including Red Star as Ivan in this mix). And by the end of his set, ol’ Brian even goes proper-proper old school trance, even if the tracks are (were) current offerings. Always cool hearing Nuclear Ramjet’s Deep Blue again.

So Psychotrance 2002 has plenty of spacey trance vibes and pummeling techno action, and despite the tag for its entry at Lord Discogs, is definitely not a psy trance collection. Wouldn’t be the first time such an erroneous mistake’s been made there. You’d think a Contribtors’ list of eight people would have caught that. Hey, there’s my name there! I don’t recall doing anything for this CD. I wonder what I add- Oh. Oh dear…! *dies from embarrassment*

Paul van Dyk - The Politics Of Dancing (2014 Update)

Nettwerk: 2001

(Click here to read my original goddamn novel)

If any of my old reviews needed a proper overhaul, it’s this 2CD DJ mix from the esteemed Mr. Paul van Dyk. I can easily do this within my new self-imposed word count, so let’s get this going. I’ll stick to the facts.

Notwithstanding the hardships I’ve faced in the wake of listening to The Politics Of Dancing again, suffering long, trying reflective self-doubt, wandering listlessly under the cold drizzle of December nights, moist shivers consistently running down my neck like a post-production kick drum. After buying a better winter coat but without the time to properly enjoy its snug warmth, and forcing myself into pondering my past grammatical transgressions, all to restore whatever reputation I’ve earned. This included reading the original 4,000 words I wrote - in its entirety mind you, not just snippets and chunks like most - all to clarify where I went so horribly wrong a decade ago. Let’s just set all that aside, and focus on this release.

It’s been a smart move on Paul’s part keeping his Politics Of Dancing an infrequent event. As a first foray into commercial mixes, the first was a total success, standing out as distinct, unique, and above class from all of van Dyk’s peers, especially at a time when the trance mix CD market was way oversaturated. Even beyond his studio edits giving so many of his chosen tracks a steady, driving rhythm throughout, his selection of tunes can only be seen as brilliantly bold today. Second Sun’s Empire, iiO’s Rapture, Guardians Of The Earth’s Starchildren, 4 Strings’ Into The Night, Blank & Jones’ Secrets & Lies… dear God, what cheesy songs these are, but damn if I don’t get a kick out of hearing them in this mix. It helps that Mr. van Dyk surrounds them with some of the best trance tunes of the day (Viframa’s Cristalle, Mirco de Govia’s Epic Monolith, Subsky’s Four Days), showing faith in these pop leanings having just as much right to co-exist with ‘proper’ underground ‘tings. After all, if you’ve a soft spot for the saccharine, why not wear it on your sleeve?

Where Politics Of Dancing excelled as a trance mix though – and van Dyk forgot for its 2005 sequel - is in the studio editing. Some complained it ruined a few tracks, but I argue it allowed him to construct a craftier set overall. Trance mixes all too often line up their tracks, beatmatch at the appropriate points, and let the songs play out as they are. van Dyk said nuts to that, often using only small portions as lead-ins to the bigger set pieces, and Politics Of Dancing is at its best when he does this – seriously, the boring parts occur when he’s playing out anthem after anthem like any other jock. It’s why TPOD2 comparatively underwhelms, nothing as fun as mash-ups or quick transitions found on those discs. Hope ol’ Paul remembers this facet for number three, but I sadly doubt he will.

Faithless - Outrospective

Arista: 2001

Contention time: Outrospective isn’t a good album. There’s good music, sure, some of Faithless’ best compositions. There's also ample amounts of weak sauce; a sense of the group going through the motions (was Rollo saving his best new stuff for Dusted?). Not that it’s surprising if they had run out of ideas three albums in, having seemingly explored every facet of their inspirations on Reverence and Sunday 8pm. What need was there to rehash the same formula if the song-writing just wasn’t there though? They’d proved capable of free-wheeling genres, earning chart success and underground cred’ in the process – why not mix things up, go in an unexpected route? (erm, which they did with No Roots, but that’s another discussion)

First off, the club anthems on Outrospective are some of Faithless’ worst work ever. We Come 1 has its fans, but it sounds like a parody of the Rollo/Sister Bliss club banger stylee. The breakdown kills all momentum the track had going for it, the hook is one of the lamest farty noises I’ve ever heard for an ‘anthem’, and the build keeps teasing and halting and pulling back and for the love of God just get to the point already. It’s like El’ Rollie and Miss Bliss had finally hit their creative wall, stuck figuring out how to top God Is A DJ and failing miserably in the process. Compared to the club anthems they kicked out on the regular – even the unheralded b-sides remixes - We Come 1 is just sad. Tarantula’s at least better, not wasting as much time dithering about. Neither serves much purpose in the context of this album though; both come off like pandering, obligatory Faithless anthems because it’s what’s expected of the group. Small wonder such tunes were jettisoned in No Roots.

Still, Faithless albums held their own thanks to the downtempo, introspective moments, with either Maxi Jazz philosophizing about his youth and contemporary issues, or something more folksy with a guest vocalist. We get that with Outrospective too, but aside from the Mohammad Ali tribute, um, Mohammad Ali, little stands out the way prior songs did. Nothing delightfully daft as Baseball Cap and Dirty Old Man, nor anything gripping and tense like Bring My Family Back and Killer’s Lullaby (Giving Myself Away comes close as a tale of a destructive relationship). Elsewhere, Dido sings the chorus on One Step Too Far, which was a huge selling point for Outrospective given the massive star she’d attained by 2001, to the point her presence overshadows everything else about the track despite offering very little in the way of lyrics. That said, Zoë Johnston’s debut with the group is a nice addition, providing a more ethereal, British countryside element to her songs (Crazy English Summer, Evergreen).

Despite my general disappointment in Outrospective, the final run of tracks in Code, Evergreen, and Liontamer (now there’s a great build!) do make the album worth an occasional throw-on. Just not as often as other Faithless LPs.

Carl Craig - Onsumotahasheeat

Shadow Records: 2001

While there's no doubting Carl Craig's status as a Very Important Person in the world techno, his has increased with age. Yeah, he was Very Important during the '90s, what with being second generation Detroit, Landcruising and some other stuff that was important enough to namedrop him in conversation. Yet as the new millennium took form and the number of yesteryear names to drop was gradually pruned, Mr. Craig continuously elevated above his peers. I honestly haven't a clue why this was so, but then I'm slightly biased to the late '90s, where his output was on a downswing as techno generally floundered about looking for new directions and relevancy. Guess all those hip kids getting into tech-house and minimal found some reason to prop him up to legendary status.

Am I blowing smoke with this theory? Perhaps a little, but take a look at this CD, Onsumotahasheeat - I’ll bet a Paperclip People white label that this is the first any of you have seen it (you people lurking my Discogs profile don’t count). You’d think his second official DJ mix would garner more attention, but then it is Shadow Records, a label not exactly high on the minds of the average techno head. On the other hand, few make mention of his way early contribution to the DJ-Kicks series either, and he never had a significant mix out again until 2005’s Fabric 25, when name-dropping techno’s old guard was incredibly fashionable again. From there, Carl Craig kept gaining Very Important Person status point, earning him mixes on all the significant labels and podcasts. Where was the love back in the day, mang?

Oh, wait, maybe the reason Onsumotahasheeat’s gone neglected is due to its content, essentially a Shadow Records showcase. Jimpster is here! Recloose is here! Goo’s here! Droid’s here! L.B.’s here. Um, Marasma’s here. Er... Shinju Gumi’s here? R. Craig? Sneakster? Ultralights? Where’d you dig up these guys, Carl? Yeah, the Shadow archives have some relative unknowns about, but Mr. Craig claims he was fascinated by their library such that he wanted his mix spotlighting the label’s musically bold ways. Fair enough, as the tunes are at least fascinating.

There’s Latin jazz-funk (Jimpster’s Wild Light, John Arnold’s Universal Mind, Ultralights’ Supernova), wicked Scarface turntable action by Goo in The O.G., and big beat business in Shinju Gumi’s Hide And Seek. Then there’s the weird stuff: Droid’s Spacey Poly Bell gives us taste of Detroit d’n’b (!), leftfield electro covers by L.B. (James Brown’s Superbad and Prince’s The Future, if you’re curious), drone-ambient trip-hop (!!) with Sneakster’s Twisted, and fuzzed-out jazz-rock-hop in Marasma’s I Have Got Garlic Hanging On My Front Door. Okay, that last one’s mostly weird for the title.

As you’ve undoubtedly guessed, Onsumotahasheeat’s all over the place in terms of genre. About the only thing holding it together is Craig’s esoteric ear for electronic music. Mixing’s mostly non-existent, but unnecessary for this CD. A fun little throw-on for those days in blunted haze.

Various - Ninja Tune: The Shadow Years

Shadow Records: 2001

In the sub-micro-niche commodity classification known as “Ninja Tune Showcases”, The Way Of The Ninja sits at one end of the spectrum – at the other end sits this. Way early in Shadow Records’ humble beginnings, the label got by in offering State-side distribution for several European records. Most were one-offs, but they did share a two-year partnership with Ninja Tune as a means of disturbing some of Coldcut’s label’s older material. Wow, Ninja working with Shadow, who’d see that coming?

Of course, Ninja Tune’s clout eventually grew big enough they handled their own American affairs, but Shadow still had rights to those older tracks as they saw fit to use them. With Shadow’s own clout never higher at the turn of the century, they also released a few Ninja back-catalog CDs as a means of earning a quick buck from an unsuspecting public. Okay, that’s a ridiculously cynical take on this compilation – I’m sure Shadow had all the best of intentions when putting this double-CD together. As a showcase of Ninja Tune’s repertoire, however, The Shadow Years is incredibly slight.

Yes, a 2-CD, eighteen track collection of Ninja Tune music come off underwhelming. Part of the problem is the small number of artists Shadow had to work with. For sure, most of the main players of Ninja Tune’s early years are accounted for: Coldcut, The Herbaliser, DJ Vadim, DJ Food, 9 Lazy 9, London Funk Allstars, Hedfunk, Funki Porcini, and Up, Bustle & Out are all repped. And of those nine artists, we get one song each on both CDs. Unfortunately, it’s not all their best material. I mean, of the Coldcut tunes Shadow could have selected, Eine Kleine Hed Musick and Atmoic Moog 2000 are the ones you go with? Not that I should have expected Autumn Leaves or Timber, but surely something a little less MOR from More and Black could have been included (for the record, I adore Eine Kleine Hed Musick, but for mostly personal reasons).

Truthfully, the selection of tunes here aren’t bad at all, all the downtempo genres Ninja Tune made their mark in given their moments. There’s trip-hop vibes from DJ Vadim and The Herbaliser, abstract broken-beats from Funki Porcini, funky ‘70s licks from DJ Food (I always picture Ninja Walk as the opening credits to a blaxploitation flick), and acid jazz grooves from 9 Lazy 9, London Funk Allstars and Up, Bustle & Out. In a way, The Shadow Years’ relative lack of material just goes to show how much Ninja Tune spoils us for music, names like Amon Tobin and Drome missing from this collection, to say nothing of extensive discographies of those who do show up here.

If you’re utterly raw to Ninja Tune and won’t spring for one of their boxsets, The Shadow Years is an adequate starter’s sampler. While it barely scratches the surface of even Shadow’s association with Ninja Tune, it does provide a quick glimpse into some of the label’s more seminal years.

Various - Fifteen Years Of Turnmills: A Retrospective Mixed By Tall Paul

Muzik Magazine: 2001

The November 2001 issue of Muzik was the first one I ever bought, for no better reason than I had no other options for my monthly electronic music reportage at the time. My usual purchase, Mixer, was nowhere on the shelves – not that I blame the New York City based rag to fall behind a bit, what with that whole 9/11 event and all. And my sampling of Mixmag the month before only showed me how ass that magazine generally was (ace free CD notwithstanding). Thus when I saw a cover featuring Kosheen (ooh, Sian Evans as a sexy pseudo-goth!), plus a cheeky Adam Freeland quote of, “I challenge Oakenfold to mix two breakbeat records”, I figured it’d be worth a shot.

And lo’, after reading (most) of this magazine front to back, I asked the heavens, where had Muzik been all my life? Not being sold in Rupert, that’s where! Who’d have thought I’d need to retreat deeper into British Columbian territory to find a British music magazine that delivered all that I ever wanted – smart reviews, interesting interviews, snarky humour, exciting exposés, celebrity mixtapes, quirky club gossip, and that. But wait, what’s this? A free CD like Mixmag, but with Tall Paul as a guest DJ? I know that guy, he’s the really tall DJ named Paul that a few of my house-lovin’ Rupert pals were into. There’s even a tune on it that I’d been searching for and wasn’t on some dodgy euro-dance compilation: BBE’s Seven Days And One Week. Man, who cares about the rest of the magazine, I’ll slap down the $12 I really couldn’t afford at the time regardless!

Shame this Fifteen Years Of Turnmills mix is utter pants. The Tall one didn’t make things easy for himself trying to sum up one-point-five decades of a club night into the tiny microcosm of a mix CD, given the disparate roads electronic music had taken in that time. It makes good sense opening with the disco-garage soul of Fire Island’s There But For The Grace Of God, but how do you get to Tony de Vit’s big-gay anthem Burning Up in between? When you’re cramming in piano progressive house like Outrage’s That Piano Track, tribal tech-house of Sil’s Windows 98 (yo, Olav!), Ferry Corsten’s rub of Madagascar (one of my most hated tunes back in the day – fuck standing around doing jack shit), his own slice of anthem house in Rock Da House, plus Jark Prongo’s Moving Through Your System on the ten-millionth CD I own (only third, you hyperbolic twit), you’re looking at a rough mix. Oh yeah, and the mixing between tracks is pretty rough throughout too.

Okay, I’m ragging on this CD more than necessary; after all, it’s just a freebie. Fortunately, Muzik’s record on these CDs would turn out much better than that initial impression gave me, which only sweetened the deal with every issue I bought going forward with the magazine. T’was a love that lasted forever after.

Various - Muzik Magazine Dance Awards 2001 Vol. 1: The Party

Muzik Magazine: 2001

It’s gotta’ be quite the ego boost holding your own awards ceremony, convincing others your insights and rankings hold weigh over others in the same field of expertise. Music journalism’s no different, nearly every rag with even marginal sway taking time out of their regular reporting for yearly ‘Best Of’ articles. If they have enough financial backing, they can even hand out little trophies at parties! I think the only electronic music magazines that still have that sort of clout are Mixmag and DJMag, but during clubbing’s last commercial peak at the turn of the millennium, several others got in on that action too, including Muzik.

Well, if there's any rag's awards I'd trust, it'd be Muzik's. I can't recall off-hand who won what, though Norman Cook, Sasha, and some bloke from New Order were on the cover, so they must have won something – maybe that cigar Sasha’s smoking? Oh, and a trashy looking Erol Alkan posing with his Best New DJ/Clubnight/Something trophy was hi-lar-ious!

With any music awards, there must also be a music CD spotlighting tunes. There were two giveaways with the awards issue, though us folks in the Americas only got The Party disc – some licensing hiccup denied us the other option, turns out. From what Lord Discogs tells me, we weren't missing much with The Future disc, what with names like PMT, Chris Coco, and Dirty Vegas in that track list. Not too hot a prediction regarding tastemakers of tomorrow on Muzik's part there, though at least they got that James Holden chap right.

Muzik Magazine Dance Awards 2001 Vol. 1: The Party features the sort of tracks you’d expect to rake in ‘Best Of’ lists for that year. Felix da Housecat’s Madam Hollywood, Fatboy Slim’s Star 69 by way of a techy remix, Röyksopp’s Eple, Stanton Warriors’ Da Virus, and Danny Tenaglia’s rub of Depeche Mode’s I Feel Loved all make the cut. Also, the track list offers a solid snapshot of all the trendy sounds running around the UK that year. Oxide & Neutrino’s Nuff Of Dem Watch Me shows off the emergent grime scene, Silicone Soul’s The Answer gets its groovy deep tech-house soul moving, trip-hop’s still in cool-mode thanks to Goldfrapp’s Utopia, and them th’ar nu skool, nu-nu-skool breaks have their moment thanks to Plump DJs’ Big Groovy Funker. Aw yeah, it’s like I’m playin’ Wipeout Fusion all over again!

Of course, anyone with a solid ear to the ground in 2001 would have gotten most of these tunes anyway. Well, maybe not that Warren Clarke Mix of Banda Sonora’s Guitarra G - while some seriously funky Latin Balearic house music, disco and French house were the king and tyrant of club land. This only helps prove that Muzik, for as snarky and off-base they could sometimes be, at least tried their damndest to promote fresh, unheralded sounds. I’ve yet to find a comparable replacement in contemporary EDM journalism, and maybe never will. Guess I’ll just continue ripping off their quips.

Various - Motion: A Six Degrees Dance Collection

Six Degrees Records: 2001

I'd probably have never given Six Degrees Records much thought if Toby Marks hadn't joined them for State-side distribution. When I dug a bit further into Six Degrees' manifesto, however, I found the cut of their jib most intriguing. Electronic dance music fused with world beats and culturally-inclined jazz-folk; yet of a classier, underground sort, not that cheesy New Age stuff Deep Forest inspired. As it turned out, Six Degrees lured in plenty of significant names of this scene (Karsh Kale, State Of Bengal, Cheb I Sabbah, etc.), plus a number of breaks and house outliers who had similar interests (DJ Cam, King Britt, DJ Spooky).

To accommodate their growing roster and interests of dance music, Six Degrees started a few compilation series for promotion. Traveller was their main one with a focus on label exclusives, but as any good label knows, you need that remix series too. Enter Motion.

I better admit here that I’ve only gone ankle-deep into the Six Degrees waters. Maybe it was the shock of Cheb I Sabbah’s La Kahena’s pure traditionalism, as this is a label you don’t beat around the bush with. If you’re a house or breaks enthusiast, some acts are familiar enough in style that a few releases would sit nicely with well known names. Below that surface though, chances are you’ll continually be confounded by forms of world music you did not know exist, much less find the time to explore all their nuances. I’m sure there’s much rich diversity to discover with Six Degrees, but I simply haven’t dedicated any time towards doing so, content with Banco de Gaia’s content and whatever associated music he happens to drag along with.

Speaking of, here’s Motion, about as friendly an introduction to the label as any house head could hope for. A couple names should already be familiar to those well-versed in that scene, including Sylk 130 (a King Britt alias) and dZihan & Kamien. Some may remember the duo who were part of the early ‘00s resurgence of European flavoured deep house, yet weren’t of Nordic descent; instead, they lent an Eastern bit of flair to their sound, and thus were quite chummy with Kruder & Dorfmeister sorts. dZ&K also get the lone non-remixed tune on Motion, the exclusive B Movie which is all kinds of groovy shuffle and floaty bliss. Elesewhere, DJ Cam re-rubs his own DJ Cam Soundsystem into a disco dubby cut that DJ Sneak would nod approvingly for.

In the back end of Motion, things go more prog-house with The Light and PFN’s remix of Banco de Gaia’s Obsidian, while harpist Monica Ramos has her upbeat Ocean re-arranged for Balearic DJs, and Garry Hughes almost goes proper psy-dub with his take on Euphoria’s Delirium (no, not Delerium’s Euphoria - that’s something else).

Despite this CD’s age (geez, a decade-plus!), it remains a solid collection of Six Degrees sounds and an easy primer. Or a good collection of ethnically-tinged house music. Your choice.

Various - In Trance We Trust 005 - DJ Cor Fijneman

In Trance We Trust: 2001

And right in the first track, I'm hit with a god-awful example of supersaw epic trance. Holy Hell, this Aloha from hopelessly forgotten Organza is pathetic. I know these DJs have to highlight some tracks from the In Trance We Trust label, but be pickier about your selections, eh? It's the opening sound of waves crashing you wanted, Cor, wasn't it. A Balearic feeling for your first of two mixes in this series. *sigh* Why couldn't 006 have been the cheap one? It's got Oliver Lieb, Airwave, Insigma, Orkidea, and Marco V on it. This one? Allure, Rank 1, and 4 Strings; Art Of Trance too, but it's Breathe, Simon Berry's regrettable attempt at a vocal trance anthem (okay, the acid's still mint).

Anyhow, the chubby, cherub-faced Cor Fijneman was one of Dutch trance's early key players, having a hand in producing some of Tiësto's first hits (Theme From Norefjell, Sparkles). This still being the early days of In Trance We Trust, Mr. Verwest’s also involved with putting these mixes together, though only given a 'compiler' credit along with Cor, while Mr. Fijneman handles the live turntable mix. I've no idea what the two had in mind while selecting these tracks, as there's almost no flow between tunes. It jumps through all sorts of epic, anthem trance of the day, some of it none too shabby (Freon’s Heaven’s Gate, Twenty-Something’s Morphing Mirror), others about as corny as you'd expect of supersaw trance in the year 2001 (Clubmasterz’ Cyberdrive, Ascension’s Someone). Yeah, the fatigue was definitely setting in with the old template.

So while the mix doesn't have much direction other than banging out various trance of the day, the high energy of this music is enough to keep you engaged for the most part. I'd grown bored of it by Denzel D.'s A Binary Star though, and a few tough tech-trancers for the finish weren’t enough to leave more than a passable impression on yours truly. Or maybe I’m still just bummed about not getting the mix with Oliver Lieb on it.

As for ol’ Cor, he continues producing and DJing, but as with so many of these In Trance We Trust jocks, never broke out of third-tier status. What, the Tiësto bump wasn’t enough?


Our guest Street Fighter Alpha 3 reviewer is none other than the Jamaican man with a perpetual smile, the “Southern Comet”, Dee Jay! Only he could be positive enough to enjoy this stuff so unabashedly.

Dee Jay: “Hey, mon, glad to see you recognize my great sense of music and rhythm, yeah! Only my amazing musicality can kick off such a wicked project. Speaking of which, have you heard my latest single, The Sun Rises Everyday? Dancehall number one hit like a Machine Gun Upper. It's inspired by my incredible Theme Of Sunrise super combo, mon! Hey, these Dutch guys, they like sunrises too, amirite? Can't say trance is much for me, too hard, but hey-hey-hey, they smilin' everyday, so they cool, mon.”

Felix Da Housecat - Kittenz And Thee Glitz (2013 Update)

Emperor Norton: 2001/2004

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.)


Boy, reading that old review sure feels like a time warp. I'll grant it's almost eight years old now, so thoughts and opinions do change in the years between, but it's clear I'm still in the afterglow of my electroclash marriage, despite the genre having been subsumed into electro house by 2006. Oddball gimmick aside, I can’t imagine myself writing anything like it ever again. I’ve yet to come across a fresh ‘dumb-fun’ genre of music that I enjoyed as much as that one, and as I get up in these years, the allure of ‘dumb-fun’ music wanes, my tastes maturing with sophistication and class. Now where’s that new space synth compilation?

Actually, the real reason I and so many others got into electroclash and all things ‘80s revivalist was how it felt like reacquainting with an old friend. It wasn’t so much a wave of retro admiration or nostalgic memories spurring it on, but the realization of, “Hey, why did we stop listening to music like this?”

Basically, ‘90s music ideology could be summed up thus: if it sounds like the ‘80s, it sucks. The classic tale is how grunge kicked hair metal to the curb, and hip-hop saw quite an upheaval too, but electronic music was no less guilty. Classic electro all but vanished during the Clinton Administration, a few stalwarts like Aux 88 keeping it alive while everyone else moved onto evolutions of the sound (Florida breaks, technobass, etc.). Synth pop... hoo boy, did that ever get shunted by euro dance and its ilk. It’s amazing groups like Pet Shop Boys, The Human League, and such survived long enough through those lean times to be ‘re-discovered’ at the turn of the century (“um, we never went away, y’know”).

This isn’t to fault the ‘90s disassociation with the ‘80s, mind you, as electronic music took many brilliant steps forward during that decade; if forgetting the past to move into the future was what it took, then so be it. Sometime in the late ‘90s, however, a few scattered producers remembered all the brilliant steps electronic music took during the Reagan Administration too, not to mention the warmth those old synths carried compared to the slick polish the latest club cuts came with. Maybe some time away from electro-proper was required to appreciate the joys of synth pop, hi-NRG, and italo disco again, and Felix da Housecat was there to capitalize on our old-new fondness for the sound on Kittenz And Thee Glitz.

One more thing I neglected touching upon on that original review is the difference of this Stateside version of the album. There’s the changed cover, obviously, opting for a ‘60s spy thriller poster instead of a celebrity gossip rag mock-up the UK got. And since this is Emperor Norton, the US got two bonus remixes at the end, a Thin White Duke mix of Silver Screen Shower Scene and Röyksopp having a go with What Does It Feels Like? They’re... eh.

Wu-Tang Clan - Iron Flag

Loud Records: 2001

For a group that usually takes their time between albums, Iron Flag had a remarkable turnaround in the wake of The W, released a mere year after. As I recall, it wasn’t met with nearly the same amount of anticipation as their prior work, though the world did have quite a few other things on their mind late in 2001. Then again, general interest in the Wu-Tang Clan had dwindled, their inability to re-capture the same fire that marked all those ‘90s LPs creating talk of “they’ve fallen off” while fresh hip-hop acts took center stage. That they would feel compelled to quickly release an album called Iron Flag to silence the doubters and haters isn’t surprising, but it did little to stem the public apathy the group suffered from in those early ‘00s.

And yeah, I could be lumped in that group as well. It took me over a decade to finally return to this album, my initial impression from some shitty p2p leaked download (hey, I was flat broke at the time!) doing little to inspire much interest to hear Iron Flag proper-like. This, from a guy who just a year prior couldn't get enough of anything Wu affiliated. If someone in the swoon of their Wu-honeymoon had feelings of 'meh' over it, then good lord, this must be a mediocre album.

Nah, but it is uneventful, something that you could seldom say about any full-on Tang Consortium release. Aside from “yo, we're the Wu, and we're still New York, represent” (something like that), I haven't a clue what the theme of Iron Flag is. Maybe that's all it is, a no frills 'back to the streets' excursion for all the members. The beats are generally bare-bones (though no Hollow Bones), with a whole lotta' wikki-wikki’ from turntablists. Wait, who even is the Wu-Tang DJ? Did he do them, or are they studio add-ons? Ain't no info in the liner notes on that, but whatever, it's awesome. For all the musical innovation RZA’s accomplished over the years, it’s good to know he can make do with the core essentials of hip-hop too.

As for all these MCs, the Clan sounds more fired up than they did on The W. Uzi (Pinky Ring)’s about the closest they reach the highs of Triumph or Protect Ya Neck, but plenty of other tunes hold up well enough. Dashing’s reggae overtones are a nice change of pace from the usual funk and soul loops, Back In The Game brings in producer tandem Poke And Tone for a far different sounding minimalist Wu cut, and Rules shows they can still kick out a standard club-bounce jam when bothered to do so.

If you’re a fan of Wu-Tang Clan, it’s hard to hate anything off this album, as it finds the group hitting a familiar groove most of their work maintains. It’s not breaking ground, but if you’re fine with them no longer bringing the mutha’ fucking ruckus, Iron Flag is worth having.