Various - Shadow: Hed Sessions 2

Shadow Records: 2002

What's that, you say? You don't care about Shadow Records' genre explorations and just want to kick back with some down low funky urban vibes? First off, props to you for being that dedicated to defunct label to even have developed such standards. I didn't even know y'all existed out there. Hell, I was surprised to find any Shadowheads even when they were in business. Folks knew of them, sure, but more as an outlet for older releases from Ninja Tune, DJ Cam, or Kruder & Dorfmeister – only hardcore fans of trip-hop and jazz-funk gave the label's massive extended roster much notice, and even then plenty of names slipped through the cracks. Goo needs more love, yo'!

Where was I going with this? Oh, right Hed Sessions. This was the sort of compilation that served Shadow Records best, focusing on the sound that made the label’s breaded butter while throwing the spotlight on acts that had fallen through the downtempo cracks. Hell, given the massive size of the that scene and all its variant genres (trip-hop, illbient, acid jazz, nu-jazz, dub, funk-fusion, abstract-step, sprockets), it’s more of a chasm than a crack producers could disappear down. Forget the obsessive techno collectors, I’d like to see someone gather all there is in this field of electronic music!

The first Hed Sessions did as the Hard Sessions did with two tracks per five selected artists. Hed Sessions 2 mixes things up a little by drawing upon more artists instead. There’s also a repeat from the previous volume, in that Saru (Steve Branson) appears again, though in remixed form. Wait, Subterra already was remixed on Hed Sessions, and now we get another remix of that track in Hed Sessions 2? Damn, pimp your own acts much, Shadow? Whatever, the dubbed out version of Suck In Love’s good stuff. Why am I talking about Hed Sessions as though I’ve already reviewed it?

By the by, Blend is on here thrice. Once offering a remix of Greg Long’s Economic Freedom, and getting remixed himself by DJ DRM in Addicted and Greg Long for All That Dub. Ah, a little ‘I remix you, you remix me’ action going on here. And for the love of dub, I hope y’all remember me mentioning Blend some twenty months ago (!) – his Echo Warrior album is exactly the sort of thing I was blabbering on about above there.

Other tracks on Hed Sessions 2 include trip-groove hoppin’ Goldiggin’ from Cordovan, jazz-funk hop of Banana Jazz Hop from Toye, floating jazz-dub vibes of Nikita’s Dream from Swirlbent, and space ‘n’ spliff turntable action of Darkness from Raging Family. If you recognize most these names, you either know them personally, or already have this CD, because this is literally the only place Lord Discogs recognizes them. Still, though walking the same paths Mo’Wax and Ninja Tune had long treaded, these are all fine tunes, definitely deserving of more exposure even if the artists aren’t around any longer.

Aes Dana - Season 5

Ultimae Records: 2002/2008

So Ultimae have been busy getting their re-issues on, in particular label-head Aes Dana's early back catalogue. Only... it's 24kbs FLAC remasters, and not anything in a physical medium. *sigh* Maybe they'll get around to it again, but my hopes of having Memory Shell on CD with a classy photography booklet grows ever slimmer in the passing years (to say nothing of the ultra-rare Aftermath). Dear me, I hope Ultimae isn't considering a limited vinyl run of these? It’d be wonderful for consumers of the black crack, but we purveyors of aluminum are getting left out on the curb. They couldn't be so cruel!

Musings for later. For now let’s go back to Ultimae's early years, when you could count their roster on one Simpsons hand. Their discography included but a couple of albums and a smattering of compilations, all quite stunning - yes, even Fahrenheit Project Three, as it'd yet to be eclipsed. Vincent Villuis had already worked with Asura for Code Eternity, and was testing the solo waters as Aes Dana through Ultimae’s compilations, but he put off his proper debut for while, allowing other artists the spotlight to create buzz for the label. Heck, he’d probably have let Carbon Based Lifeforms release Hydroponic Garden ahead of Season 5 if they’d joined Ultimae a little sooner. I wonder if Mr. Villuis is just humble to a fault sometimes.

As for this album, it’s an Aes Dana LP, and as I’ve done this dance with y’all three times prior, I’m sure you can guess how this one’s turning out too. He pretty much nailed his moody, minimalist brand of dontempo psy from the onset, and Season 5 is no different in that regard. As this is a debut, however, there aren’t as many genre explorations as you’d find in his latter albums, this one mostly sticking to dark prog-psy grooves and dark ambient techno tones. Plus, with a running theme of the ‘fifth season’ of the year, we get the sounds of nature thrown in at various points. What is the fifth season, you ask? Not any specific stretch of days in the year, claims the PR blurb, but those transitional points between seasonal change. Huh, we have those all the time here in Vancouver. They’re those wonky days where it’ll be frigid and wet in the morning, but clear and warm by the afternoon: two seasons for the price of one solar cycle, and throwing your clothing options into utter disarray.

Season 5’s a solid enough album from Aes Dana, as all his albums typically are. If that’s not enough convincing though, consider this: little sounded quite like the music that’s on this album at the time. Even Ultimae was still mostly toeing the psy-chill and world beat line, and to have something as dark as Season 5 come out in that scene had to come as a surprise. We’ve grown all too spoiled by Aes Dana’s style by now, but given that context, it’s a remarkable record.

Amon Tobin - Out From Out Where

Ninja Tune: 2002

Out From Out Where marks a transitional period in Amon Tobin's career. I know this because that's what many ten year old reviews tell me, and I've no reason to disbelieve them. True, I should know this more intuitively than second-hand Wiki links, but my Tobin experience has thus far only been his earliest efforts for Ninja Tune. That leaves a near half-decade gap between Bricolage and this one, of which ol' Amon could have taken all sorts of weird and crazy musical tangents. No no, don't tell me what Supermodified and Permutation sound like, Dr. Spotify, I savour the mystery that still exists, music that I've yet to discover and properly take in with attentive ears. We need not know all the things all at once, right?

Thus, we jump a few years over the rest of Mr. Tobin’s ‘90s output, away from the jazz-fusion signifiers that won him plenty of plaudits. A little branching out never hurt anyone as talented as ol’ Amon, even if it was sometimes in weird ways (a field recordings album, really?). Out From Out Where seems less concerned with artistic endeavours though, going for something more accessible, with big nasty beats that the kids lap up in the streets.

Seriously, everyone going on about the awesomeness of glitch hop these days would cream their shorts after hearing the opening salvo of this album. There’s still more than enough micro-editing and beat stitching that’ll have your Squarepusher triggers flashing, but Tobin doesn’t go so braindancey in this outing, tracks coming off like turntable cut-ups as only capably performed by an arachnid DJ. Back From Space has funky bass licks, stuttering hip-hop rhythms, flanged-out string sections, and gnarly bass action. Verbal is a complete funk-hop stomp rock-out, including acoustic guitar strums, cannon-blast bass, cavernous percussion, and stitched in MCing. Chronic Tronic bounces along with drums and woodblocks echoing off huge halls, nasty low-end wobbles, vicious beat craft, and wonderfully contrasted with ethereal orchestral passages. Yes, that’s a thing, got’dang it, Amon Tobin’s made it so. He also makes my inner b-boy bust out some sick moves – if only my aging body could pull them off. *sigh*

The rest of Out From Out Where doesn’t reach the same thrill as the opening three provides, but does offer its share of mint material too. Cosmo Retro Intro Outro may as well be Tobin’s official “hey advertisers, here’s a track!” big beat offering, while Triple Science has him getting his drill ‘n’ bass on. Meanwhile, Hey Blondie has a little krautrock vibe going for it, and El Wraith shows the ill-fated illbient genre still had some life in it for the new millennium. The rest is the sort of trip-hop many associate with Ninja Tune with a little added Amon flair, though I understand why some might not be as impressed with such music since its well tread ground since the ‘90s. Whatever, it’s still great headphone tuneage. Pardon me as I go swagger down my street now.

Harmonic 33 - Extraordinary People

Alphabet Zoo: 2002

Who exactly was responsible for this style of music getting so popular anyway? Groove Armada certainly had huge commercial success, and Röyksopp got a pile of praise too. Wasn’t AIR on this even sooner though? What even was the trigger that had the collective European chill-out market suddenly declare, “You know what needs coming back? Golden oldies easy listening pop jangles, now with funk and hip-hop!” It’s gotta’ be Gilles Peterson’s doing. He was all up in resurrecting the past, and getting Radio 1 airplay broadcasting his tastes to a broader audience incited producers at trying their hand at it. Not that I mind of course, but for a short while at the turn of the century, it seemed everyone was getting in on that retro-sunny ‘60s pop-soul, or whatever the stuff was called back in the day. The past is always better, yo’.

Let’s assume Mark Pritchard’s foray into that style was more coincidence than bandwagon jump, that he simply felt a similar itch when a whole pile of other folks did. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least if he’d been sitting on ideas for Harmonic 33 for a while, even while doing all that seminal work in the ‘90s with Tom Middleton (Global Communication, Jedi Knights, Secret Ingredients). His output and collaborations (Dave Brinkworth in this case) since the start of the 21st Century points more to a love all things urban and modern, and though the tunes off Extraordinary People takes melodic cues from ‘60s, this is very much an album where contemporary beats dominate.

And hot damn, are some of these rhythms ever dope. They aren’t any more complex than what you’d expect out of typical Ninja Tune, but each unleashes the wormiest little shuffle that it’s impossible not getting your strut on. Plus, that bass, mang! I don’t know if it was sampled or synthesized, but many of these tracks contain one of the grooviest, cavernous cellos I’ve ever heard in jazz-influenced hip-hop, and is a total treat with strong playback options (I dare even the most jaded sod not bob their shoulders in Where Have They Gone). Adding to the funky business is Danny Breaks with occasional turntable scratches, though he doesn’t go as abstract as others do. A point of contention though: these tracks need an MC. A good chunk of them come off like conscious rap instrumentals, and while it doesn’t detract from the whole, it does take some warming up to Pritchard’s style, like it’s missing a critical component.

Back to the pluses in this album’s favor, nothing is taken too seriously, a light-hearted bounce running throughout. Even when a track goes for a melancholic vibe (The Rain Song, Underwater Lady, Kaleidoscope) or psychedelic weird (Extraordinary People, Exotica), they’re nicely contrasted with spritely pianos, light xylophones, or rugged basslines (seriously, that cello!). This is ‘60s easy-listening soul as remembered with the rosiest of tinted glasses, so if you need bitters in your margaritas, I wouldn’t bother buying this CD.

Various - In Trance We Trust 007: DJ Misja Helsloot

In Trance We Trust: 2002

Misja Helsloot has the distinction of kicking off this line of DJ mixes, way back- Hold a second…

*best-worst Londo Mollari impression* MISTA Helsloot! MEESTA Hell Sloot! MEESTA HELL SLUTTY-SLUTE!

Sorry, had to get that out of my system. Where was I? Ah, yes. Mr. Helsloot, the second jock to get a second shot at mixing In Trance We Trust. After spending much of his early DJ career in third tier status, this should have at least propelled him up a notch within Dutch trance’s sphere of influence. Not that it was a good mix (oh Hell no!), but the In Trance We Trust brand still had that shiny Tiësto allure glow, and any chap associated with the brand should have benefited from the rub. Why, it’s the perfect time to spend the next few years producing singles and running a label (Gesture Music, plus sub-label First Second Records). Neither took off in any significant way though, either failing to generate much traction in an increasingly bloated scene, or ol’ Misja grew bored of the business model. Eventually he re-refocused his efforts on productions and DJing again, thus completing the typical path for most trance hopefuls in the ‘00s.

I’ve been spoiled a couple times with this series, especially with Cor Fijneman’s last mix (who’d have guessed!). I cannot deny I had some expectation- nay, hope that In Trance We Trust 007 would surprise as these earlier editions often have. After all, I know just how shit these CDs would turn in later editions, and older stuff’s just naturally better, amirite? No, ima-not-rite on this one, as most of the latter-era In Trance We Trust mixes at least have one thing this volume doesn’t: actual set flow.

True, the tunes were often balls and jumped on way too many bandwagons, but there was some care to how they were stitched together. Mr. Helsloot shows no such craft, simply aligning a bunch of unrelated epic, melodic bangers one after the other and calling it a day. Even when a few good tunes stand out, they’re isolated instances, whatever momentum they generate quickly undone by a follow-up with a gratuitous full-stop breakdown. Oh God, are there ever fucking breakdowns on this CD. And what’s with Ton TB’s Future Voices aping a pile of old-school Oliver Lieb tricks? It’s like he mashed up Netherworld with ancient Spicelab. Now I want to play ITWT06 instead – the real deal’s there.

Guest reviewer for this CD is none other than the aspiring woman’s pro-wrestling superstar, Rainbow Mika! She keeps insisting on some promo time, and might as well give it here.

R. Mika: Wait, I’m on now? Alright, trance music! Um, this is like J-Pop, right? Oh oh, no, that’s not it. Oh dear, I don’t know anything about this. Just, just give me a chance to listen to it some more. Does Zangief listen to trance music? No? Ah, well, I’ve some autographs to sign anyway. Exhibition matches at Sardine Beach every Saturday!

Bandulu - Redemption

Music Man Records: 2002

Bandulu appeared to have gone quietly into the '90s night, their brand of tribal dub techno growing less relevant as bangin' Swedish sounds and German minimalism became the norm in the new millennium. No one would have thought less of them had Cornerstone and smatterings of vinyl singles been the final impression on their lasting legacy. They'd made an undeniable mark on techno and though their LP career didn't last a decade, it's more than can be said for most producers of that scene.

Then, out of the Bandulu blue, along comes a Redemption, a fresh album for the 2000s after nearly a half-decade of relative silence. Not only was it proper full-length release, but in fact came in two variations, depending on which format you preferred. It’s not unheard of bonus tracks appearing on CD copies or vinyl exclusives rewarding the black crack addicts, but to have a mere two cuts shared between them is nigh unheard of. Why give both versions the same album name if they lack much similarity between either? Would we have even more different track lists had Redemption come out at a different era? I could see that happening with a digital format (all the space!), but I kinda’ get a chuckle out of the concept of a ‘tape-only’ version too. It’d fit the group’s ‘techno for the graffiti-filled North London streets’ manifesto.

One of the tracks on both record and CD is Jahquarius, and oh my God, when I heard this as the opener, I feared the worst. That is, I didn’t quite know what to expect going into Redemption - whether Bandulu’s techno had evolved with the times at all, or they’d stick to their rugged guns – but offering up a rather standard reggae dub outing was not what I had in mind. It’s serviceable, I’ll grant it that, and likely would have done serious compilation duty for any ol’ Dub Selector type collection. Say, why didn’t it do so anyway? Was Music Man Records too far off the beaten dub path for the downtempo market to come a knockin’ for singles? They weren’t all Green Velvet and La La Land, you know.

Fortunately for me, Jahquarius and similar tune Detention are the only cuts off Redemption like that. The rest gets back to Bandulu’s toasty slices of unrelenting tribal techno. Their street grit never sounded better, tracks like Redemption (Dub), Smooth Step, and 44100 vintage mid-‘90s bangin’ Bandulu with all the dubby effects their followers appreciate. They also make room for a few Detroit leaning tunes (Vital Sense, Rank, Wetlook), plus a couple downtempo jams too (Bill’s Gate, Mooger, Chapter 6 kinda’). Man, it feels weird saying this is one of Bandulu’s most diverse albums, even though they didn’t stray too far from their traditional sound.

That said, Redemption isn’t a starting point should you still need to take a Bandulu plunge. Rather, it’s a tasty dessert to a satisfying meal of a career. Mmm, foodstuffs…

Various - Dub Selector 2

Quango Records: 2002

Quango's '90s compilations had several sequels to their names, but when the label relaunched at the turn of the millennium, only Dub Selector managed second and third entries. There are two strong possibilities for this. One, it garnered enough sales to warrant sequels, though it seems odd that only this one did (no love for Afrotech or Cosmic Funk in this world?). Two, Quango head Bruno Guez knew he couldn't hope to give the wide world of dub music its full due in a single CD serving. Heck, remember that Bug fella's attempt with Virgin? He resorted to two discs worth for the first volume of Macro Dub Infection, and even that only scratched the surface. So, for all intents, Mr. Guez intended for another showcase of dub music, but of a different style compared to what was featured on the first volume. It would explain the omission of Jamaican roots artists in favour of European producers – they were being saved for this compilation.

If you guessed the second option, you're slightly wrong, though you wouldn't know it without a glance at the track list. Dub Selector 2 is still very Euro-centric in who's behind the consoles, including a few of the same acts showing up. Boozoo Bajou returns, G-Corp returns (this time as their old name, Groove Corporation), Grant Phabao returns, and Noiseshaper returns with their one track Quango just couldn't stop promoting. High-profile acts new to the series here include Thievery Corporation (what's with all these dub corporations?), Nick Holder, and that Dorfmeister guy so many downtempo producers were influenced by. Rounding things out are names like Stereotyp, Scientist, and The Butch Cassidy Sound System, again all European. So it goes with Dub Selector I guess.

Any-however, we get plenty of proper reggae flavour up in this dancehall too, even if it comes in remixed form most of the time. Big Youth, Paul St. Hilaire (aka: Tikiman), and Cutty Ranks make the cut, and unlike the remixed acts of the previous volume, these are presented as authentic Jamaican jams as you'll find. Put another way, I have hardly a clue what ‘d’em rude b’wans’ are going on about, but damn if it isn't wicked-cool hearing their toasting to bouncy roots rhythms and shoulder-shufflin' basslines.

Whether you'll stumble upon any of these Dub Selectors, I haven't a clue, but should these two reviews intrigued you enough to pick up just one (??), I suggest nabbing volume 2 for yourself. The first edition comes off all too safe for a downtempo dub collection, which is fine if you're only just dipping your toes into those warm waters. Isn't it better to challenge that palette of yours every so often though? This CD should do that, honouring the roots of roots music far more than the previous disc. Eh? Dub Selector 3? I don't have that one, though at a glance, holy cow, are there ever a lot of large bands on it. Maybe that one goes proper-proper reggae dub, then?

Psychonavigation - Psychonavigation 5

Fax +49-69/450464: 2002

Pete Namlook and Bill Laswell were practically made for each other. Not so much for their musical styles, but in their ridiculous work rate and endless collaborative projects with other musicians far and wide. That they'd end up releasing ambient-leaning albums together was inevitable, and it figures they'd settle on two aliases for the task, Psychonavigation and Outland. Nine LPs came out from their work together, plus undoubtedly many more guest spots Laswell contributed to other Namlook works (I know of at least two albums from the Klause Schulze collaboration Dark Side Of The Moog). A lot of music then, yet little of which gets referenced or talked up when discussing either career. The general sounds most associate with Laswell (bass heavy dub, ethnic fusion, dark ambient) doesn't often jive with the sounds Namlook's known for (ambient techno, space music, jazzy chill-out), so the thought of the two collaborating for even one session, let alone over a dozen, is often passed by.

Okay, enough rambly pre-amble. Whatever one thinks of Psychonavigation or Outland, there’s a hard-written fact you just don’t overlook regarding Namlook: if you find first-run copies of Fax +49-69/450464 material, you snatch that shit up post-haste! Them suckers are rare as all hell, and while Ambient World was kind enough to re-issue many of them a decade ago, they too have grown increasingly expensive and rare. Plus, there’s nothing quite like having an original Fax-Plus CD in hand, vintage artwork and all. And wouldn’t you know it, I found this CD sitting idly in a major chain way out Canada west here. Dudes... dudettes... that’s just ridiculous! True, it’s the last of the Psychonavigation series, released at a time when most wouldn’t give it much care anyway (neither Laswell nor Namlook were generating much buzz in the early ‘00s), but still... “Limitation: 2000”, and I gots me one!

Oh, the music within? It’s... not what I was expecting, quite different from what the two were making in the mid-‘90s. True, it’d be foolish to not expect some developments and evolution in their work, but thumping techno? Opener The Catalyst has a thick, tribal stomp going for it alongside burbly alien noises, and though not as driving as most techno of the time, it wouldn’t sound too out of place in a warehouse setting. At the other end of this album is Life Eternal, which is more typical of the Psychonavigation stylee with dark ambience, super-dubbed sounds, and minimalist groove. Nice opening synth melody too, for as long as it lasts anyway.

The main featuring, however, is Cryosleep, a whopping thirty-two minutes with change, though broken up into four parts. Good, because the opening part, Preparation, has an overbearing synth drone running for its ten minute duration, and is not worth enduring for the subtle dub-tribal rhythm build underneath. The remainder of Cryosleep has more alien tribal-techno dub-thump going on, plus some cool samples from Vin Diesel. Man, it’s been a long time since I last watched Pitch Black...

Märtini Brös. - Pläy.

Turbo Recordings: 2002

I thought I had Märtini Brös. all figured out. Responsible for a quirky novelty synth-pop hit at the height of electroclash’s popularity, signed to an LP deal on Tiga’s Turbo Recordings print based on the strength of that single (especially so the Black Strobe Remix), then off to the realms of Nowheresville once tastes and music trends abruptly shifted during the ongoing ‘00s. With absolute certainty in my assumption, I popped over to Lord Discogs to confirm my notions, only to have serious knowledge smacked in my smug face. This album Pläy. barely scratches the surface of what the German duo of Clemens Kahlcke and Michael Pagliosa have been up to in their career, with releases before and well after that breakout. Damn, the Lord does provide all, sometimes even more than you bargained for!

Turns out Märtini Brös.' primary home is Poker Flat Recordings (Steve Bug’s label, though more commonly known as ‘They Whom Released Trentemøller’s The Last Resort'), and had been putting out records with them since its inception. Not that it's a huge surprise, many of their early singles sitting comfortable with the deeper side of tech-house, the sort fussy Germans often adore (yes, even fifteen years whence). You couldn't escape glam-pop's re-emergence though, and Märtini Brös. got themselves in on that action whether you liked their older productions or not. Look, what else could they do to lift their career out of obscurity and into the fab' lights - make trance records?

While I won't deny it was presumptuous in thinking Märtini Brös. were a one-and-done album story, there was some logic behind my reasoning other than never coming across another significant hit of theirs post Biggest Fan. For a debut LP, Pläy. feels as though Kahlcke and Pagliosa were unsure whether this was their only shot, cramming in various styles of music without much consideration for album flow - it's like they wanted to show off all their inspirations while they had the chance. Thus, you have the requisite minimalist synth-pop electro-glam in tracks like Electric Monk, Dance Like It Is O.K., and Flash, but alongside those are starry-eyed psychedelic UK folktronica (!?) with Ultrastar, Happiness, and Flowers Of July. Mashed among those are quirky micro tech-house numbers like Boy/Girl, L.O.V.E. (A Really Strong Emotion), and Hot, and little in between linking these styles into a cohesive LP narrative (the cinematic French-pop chill-out track Audiopark 2002 notwithstanding). Märtini Brös. are by no means slouches in any of these genres, but they'd be better served as explorations of those sounds within full-lengths to themselves, not mish-mashed together as they are on Pläy.

This lends itself to a frustrating listen, few tracks standing out beyond whatever merit they contain. The Biggest Fan is already a catchy, camp number – imagine how great it’d sound with strong context surrounding it! Oh wait, I already know that answer. It’s on Tiga’s DJ-Kicks mix. Yeah all these tunes are better served like that than on Pläy., methinks.

Boards Of Canada - Geogaddi

Warp Records: 2002

Geogaddi came out about the time the Cult Of BoC was at its insufferable worst, ridiculous amounts of love and praise gushing in on any and all music scene message forums you’d happen to frequent. It wasn’t just the ravers slobbering over the Scottish duo either, but the indie kids who never gave ‘techno’ much pause were citing Music Has The Right To Children as the best electronic album ever. Okay, enjoy your stay here; there’s more than enough Boards to go around. For the love of God though, please cease the idolization and trumped-up mythology surrounding these guys - they just make charming music for the after-hours.

Whatever you thought about their PR and fanbase, you couldn’t fault the music, much of which remained quite exceptional for its time. Unfortunately, with all the garrulous hype surrounding them, some backlash against the Boards was inevitable. To take the mighty Boards Of Canada down a peg though, you’d need an album that proved these nostalgic-glazed chill-out Emperors were lacking in bell-bottomed accoutrements. Geogaddi was that album.

Already tasked with the impossibility of following upon Music Has The Right To Children, Sandison and Eoin tried going deeply conceptual with Geogaddi, offering tons of sonic Easter Eggs and numerological nonsense for the true believers to dig and discover with repeated play-throughs. For the rest of us, it’s just a rather dull record. For one thing, despite a track list detailing twenty-three cuts, less than half of those are fully-formed pieces of music, some of which are ridiculously tedious experimental loops. Gyroscope in particular is hopelessly annoying and inane with clunky percussion and muffled child dialog that probably has some cool secret that you’d only understand if you were a real fan of the Boards. Or how about the effects wankery of The Devil Is In The Details, barely a piece of music save the gentle echoing synth pulse underneath garble noises like an evil being of demonic origin contrasted with wisps of ethereal pads and, of course, children laughing. No, wait, how about Magic Window, literally one-minute forty-five seconds of silence, just to reach an album runtime of sixty-six minutes and six seconds (though my player reads 66:04, hah!). Gads, see how pretentious this comes off?

Boards Of Canada’s strength is their seemingly effortless approach to song craft – no matter the depth in execution, the final result is simple and class. Geogaddi, on the other hand, sounds like the Scottish duo pushed and strained themselves in creating cleverness for its own sake, forgetting to write decent music in the process. There’s a flat, sterility to so much of Geogaddi, it’s small wonder it remains their most divisive LP.

That said, it’s the Boards we’re dealing with, and a few mint numbers do find their way in. I don’t doubt some fans will snicker at my inability to decipher all the codes hidden within Geogaddi, but I listen to Boards Of Canada for fuzzy, dayglow chill times, not to solve puzzled bollocks.

Omnimotion - Omnimotion

Waveform Records: 2002

The album that got me checking out Waveform Records again, for what that’s worth. It'd been a long absence by yours truly though, figuring the label had faded off forever. Then I saw Omnimotion sitting on the shelf, recognizing the distinctive Waveform logo on the jewel case spine. I had no idea who Omnimotion was, but the cover was intriguing, a widescreen picture of some long abandoned railway, buried beneath the dusty wastelands of a future apocalypse. Why yes I had been reading Stephen King's Dark Tower series at the time. Is it worth reading past the third book?

Anyhow, to say this album blew my mind is... not accurate, now that I think about it. There aren’t any big melodic moments or instantly earwormy hooks, few fresh synth sounds or clever sampling techniques; yet Omnimotion remains among one of the most captivating LPs I’ve ever listened to. It’s why I dread reviewing it, even skipping it when it popped up for one of my TranceCritic Random Reviews long ago - had no faith in my writing ability to justify my praises, you see. Hell, I still don’t know how to write about it, Omnimotion defying many genre conventions you'd expect of downtempo or chill-out music. It's got touches of dub, world beat, ambient, and smatterings of Omnimotion's (one Stephan Lundaahl) classically trained background thrown in for good measure, that comes off both totally familiar and utterly unique. What's remarkable about all this is how subdued the atmosphere is, like a meditative calm surrounds the generally sparse and desolate soundscapes our fine Swedish producer's created.

The best I can describe this album is by the feelings it imparts. Imagine your absolute worst Sketchy Sunday morning. You know the sort. The night out before (either Friday or Saturday) had started fine and fun, but something set you off on a bleak mood, and by the time you got home, you were feeling mighty low. It's not depression, but you can't quite escape this fog of being. When you wake up (and you can never go back to sleep), everything seems faded and grey. Yet, despite all this, a sense of peace permeates your soul, the gentle music of life easing you out of melancholy. It's not much to hear – quiet raindrops outside your window, mild rustle of a breeze through leaves, a whisper of a neighbour's wind chimes, the chant of a wise ancient culture, recollection of a nurturing mother's lullaby – but it's there, and enough to feel at peace with yourself. Existing isn’t so terrible after all.

Yeah, sorry about this ‘review’. I know its annoying reading interpretations of music when all you’re after is facts, opinions, and critiques. Like I said, I’ve got nothing, pathetically failing you in this endeavour, my friends. You’ll have to hear Omnimotion for yourself and form your own thoughts on the music. Maybe you’ll come to the same conclusions as I have, left in speechless tranquility.

In The Mist - Lost

Nulll: 2002

Did you know the death metal scene has a vibrant dark ambient sub-scene? Well, sure, you probably did, o' purveyor of Viking thrash and demon-doom grindcore, but what of the rest of you? Dark ambient mostly found its footing within abstract industrialists and fans of the Alien movies at a time when having any sort of synth work in your metal music was considered stupid and gay (Van Halen exempt, apparently). Yet as the '90s took form and production in metal albums grew more ambitious, creepy ambient textures made good sense for an interlude or two. Some musicians grew inspired enough to make whole albums of the stuff, creating tidy side careers within the dark ambient scene at large. One of the more ambitious chaps in this field is Stijn van Cauter.

Not content to simply make an album or three, the Belgian metaller established his own label, Nulll, using it as a platform to release a multitude of LPs under a multitude of project aliases. Doom metal act Until Death Overtakes Me was the big one, but he also released dark ambient and experimental works as Fall Of The Grey-Winged One, Dreams Of Dying Stars, Tear Your Soul Apart, and Dance Nihil (among other cheery names), most of which were one-off works of CDr-length single track music. Oh, and In The Mist as well.

Lost got a bit more buzz than van Cauter’s other projects for its comparatively different approach to dark ambient – more grey atmosphere, less doom and gloom here. I’ll buy that, this seventy-minute long piece of drone remarkably immersive considering there’s very little going on. Over ninety percent of its runtime is dominated by an overbearing bass tone fed with overlapping reverb and echo effect. Additional sounds like heavily-echoed guitar plucks and fret rides occasionally pierce the murk, but its long stretches between those islands of musical respite.

Interestingly, Lost starts with these guitar effects, as though the fog of drone has yet to settle in; conversely, the overbearing tone dissipates by track’s end, allowing an actual bass melody to emerge for the remainder five or so minutes. Lost may be drone ambient at its near-droniest, but damn if van Cauter didn’t expertly capture the mood of being surrounded and trapped by bleak, suffocating mist here. Those few melodic bits that do emerge are like the glimpses of scenery one might spot when searching for landmarks to find their bearings, only for van Cauter to cruelly snatch them away as the haze reasserts its sonic dominance on you.

As a piece of drone ambient, Lost’s pretty cool, one of the better examples of the genre I’ve heard in a while. For a form of music that seems ridiculously easy to craft, it’s also remarkably difficult to retain a listener for, many producers forgetting that lengthy drone does need a sense of progression, of change throughout. Within the context of In The Mist, van Cauter finds just the right balance of deep atmosphere and suggestive narrative.

Psychick Warriors Ov Gaia - The Key

Terminal Antwerp: 2002

The mystique of the Psychick Warriors Ov Gaia had mostly faded from techno's consciousness as the new millennium took shape, perhaps a few digital crusties the only ones maintaining the group aloft in reverence. Back in the early '90s when the enigmatic Dutch act were making the rounds on the live PA circuit, the notion of tribal rhythms and occult lineage wasn't a hard sell for a young rave scene. Probably didn't hurt they were releasing material through Belgian EBM-slash-New Beat label KK Records, that scene already having a fondness for the counter-culture of new technology. Throw in knowing nods to ambient, industrial, and dub, and you've a sound like no other at the time, and very little since.

The Warriors Ov Gaia (Psychick, that is) had a memorable half-decade run, and folks figured their story was done by the mid-‘90s. Someone at KK Records must have been a dedicated fan though, as long after PWoG had faded from the minds of the techno collective, the label released this odds-n-sods double-disc of material from the group on the briefly run sub-label Terminal Antwerp. It’s not exactly a rare gathering of material here, the first track being their classic Obsidian. There are a few versions of this floating around, and far as I can tell, this is a slightly shorter one compared to the twenty minute Deconstructure single cut. Also here is the minimalist acid stomper The Challenge, sounding quite similar to Part 1 that opened Biospheres And Sacred Grooves; plus the stripped-down industrial-techno tune Kraak, one of the group’s later efforts.

That’s about it for the immediately familiar tracks on The Key. Oddly, eight of these ten cuts all have a “mix never released before on the market” asterix beside them. I don’t doubt the label’s claim, though Kraak has one too, along with ridiculously rare tunes like Out Now and Pull. Come to think of it, the titular cut, The Key, was also on Biospheres And Sacred Grooves. And there are a few mislabels on CD1. You’re looking sketchy, Terminal Antwerp.

So what is The Key? B-side collection? 'Almost' greatest hits? Newbie-friendly introduction? None of these, if I'm honest. PWoG already had a retrospective release out on KK Records, and if you were (or are) a first-timer to their sound, these are hardly an easy pair of CDs to get into. 'Tribal' is often tossed in descriptions, but I wager PWoG lean more primordial, a dedication to the meditative aspects of minimalist rhythms and chants. Sometimes they go more trance (The Valley), other times more downbeat (Prison Of The Rhythm), and still occasionally find nods to Detroit's approach (Out Now), but every time their music latches onto your primitive brain, dragging you into hypnotic dance. Man, I hope there aren't any subliminal messages lurking in those samples!

Though an admirable attempt at keeping the Psychick Warriors Ov Gaia's name out there a little longer, there isn't enough on The Key that’ll attract but the most devout of followers.

Various - FabricLive 08: Plump DJs

Fabric: 2002

*cover art brought to you by FabricLive’s “Urban Silhouettes” period*

Despite residing within a breaks scene that faded into near-irrelevancy as the ‘00s wore on, Plump DJs’ stock never fell. That’s what happens when you almost single-handedly dictate the way a genre goes forward, in this case nu-skool breaks. Sure, plenty of other names could be dropped that were just as influential (must… resist…), but Misters Gardner and Rous always remained one step ahead in the production game, tracks just that bit more polished and class compared to their peers. Small wonder, then, that Fabric would tap the breaks duo for one of their early editions of FabricLive, pretty much the first outside breaks act receiving the honor (Ali B was already a resident at Fabric). On the other hand, they had to follow up John Peel’s mix, an almost thankless task in measuring up to his eclectic variety of music.

Just as well they didn’t try – they had their own Fabric quarterly to promote, after all. And a new album soon (Eargasm). Plus that whole Wipeout: Fusion tie-in (one track and two remixes!). Also at least five of their own productions for this mix. Goodness, are Plump DJs ever savvy business men. Well, maybe not so much with that entry into the dying Global Underground series. Whatever, they command top billing everywhere they play out, a couple missteps along the way can’t hurt. Please tell me the stupid-as-shit ‘anthem house’ track Skylon isn’t indicative of their current sound… (*dong-dong-dong-dong, dong-dong-dong-dong dong*)

FabricLive 08 isn’t too surprising of a set if you know your breaks from 2003. There’s nods to the old school like Nation 12’s Listen To The Drummer (from ’91), plus a couple cheeky mash-ups of their own tracks with tunes of yore, including Screen 2’s garage house retro-hit Hey Mr. DJ (the Plump’s rub of Mr. Velcro Fastener’s Electrical Appliances serves the rhythmic backbone), and Punch Drunk cut with Donna Summer’s I Feel Love to end the set. That might be a little cliché (who doesn’t mash Summer with something?), but at least they used their own track for the gimmick.

Aside from that, we’re mostly in funky territory. If you must know the requisite deviations, here we go: a little chemical-acid stylee in Angelfish, their collaboration with Ali B; electro gets its nod on Chad Jackson’s Energise (a former DMC champion, no less); Evil Nine offers us something more space-based with Cakehole; and Soul Of Man comes strong with the tribal business on The Drum. Still, I couldn’t help but keep expecting Big Groovy Fucker to show up. It’s as though Plump DJs curates a very specific sound of their own (not the first person to realize this).

Was This Worth The Pennies Paid For It?
Yeah, I’d say so. If you’re a fan of breaks and somehow missed out on Plump DJs in their prime, FabricLive 08’s a decent starting point, though the Urban Underground mini-series earned them more attention than this one.

Various - fabric 08: Radioactive Man

Fabric: 2002

*cover art brought to you by Fabric’s “Future Technology In Cottage Climate” period*

While it’s rare fabric covers have anything to do with the featured DJ, it can’t be a coincidence a radio dish is on the cover for Radioactive Man’s contribution to the series. Yeah, I know, Keith Tenniswood’s alias has nothing to do with actual radio transmissions, but it’s a nice bit of cover continuity for a series almost devoid of such.

The man behind Man is part of a circle of London producers that every critic worth their salt frequently slobbers over, including respected names like Andrew Weatherall, James Lavelle, and David Holmes. Mr. Tenniswood was the electro-IDM chap, a sort of British option for those who dug Anthony Rother and Aux 88. No surprise, then, his offering of fabric 08 is primarily an electro affair. Wait, hold the cell-phone! Breakbeats, in the main series? What an uncertain time these early fabrics were – daring, bold, unsettled within trends.

Well, not quite. This being 2003, electro clashcoresynth was still a hot sound. Radioactive Man skews closer to the proper realms of robot-funk, but he isn’t resistant to that action either. At least he had the good sense to use his 2 Lone Swordsmen (with Weatherall) guise as the ease-in point for the sound. Dot Allison never sounded so seductively sleazy! Following it with the hopelessly obscure Touch Me from Sweetie though? Aw, now you’re just showing off your crates, mate. No, also fitting in another Weatherall collaboration with Explode as the one-off Basic Unit doesn’t count as digging. Sounds like you’re trying to get in on that International Deejay Gigolo action anyway.

After that, it’s mostly a pure electro workout, save a brief detour into nu-skool breaks care of Koma + Bones’ Powercut. Ah, it’s not far removed from Tenniswood’s take on electro anyway, so it’s all good. Also good are cuts from Imatran Voima (mmm, In/Out’s some fine robot music, ‘tis), Anthony Rother (because of course), charming electro synth-poppers Kit Builders (Bolz Bolz providing the rub on Wake Up), and a cheeky mash-up of Princess Superstar’s hot-as-Hell Fuck Me On The Dancefloor overtop ravey electro Rottenrow from Dirty Hospital.

Radioactive Man also gets a track of his own in twice with ’Ave That, a total head scratcher. It’s… electro speed garage? Oh dear. And then Tim Wright’s remix takes it down 2-step’s road right after. I …guess this is cool in the UK? Or a joke on Tenniswood’s part? The latter wouldn’t surprise me, given he uses a made-up comic book character within a cartoon for this alias.

Was This Worth The Pennies Paid For It?
Absolutely. Tenniswood’s career hasn’t led him into the DJ studio often, but he capably handles himself here with good set flow and a varied selection of tunes without straying far from his chosen sound of expertise (though speed garage, really!?). Plus, how often do we get to hear proper electro in a fabric mix? Not often enough, says I.

Various - Tunes Of The Year 2001

Muzik Magazine: 2002

Though stuck in the hinterlands of Canada for a while, my job at a music shop kept me a step ahead of my pals on many things electronic music orientated. Such was the perk of receiving promotional material with every order, scouring about for intriguing new artists and albums. What’s that, Nu-Skool Nick, you’ve found an online music hub called Napster where you can download anything you want? That’s nice to hear, but do you know what you want to hear? It’s one thing to snag up older discographies, but what about the new hotness? Plus, you gotta wait for someone to upload that shit anyway, and the only way to do that is after someone buys a physical copy first (occasional leaks notwithstanding). And there was only one place in town to go if you wanted new music as soon as it hit the Rupert streets. Well, okay, a couple places, but I was the only place that’d order underground electronic music. So bow to my superior knowledge of the scene, fellow Rupert people, bwahaha!

Then I left, started reading Muzik Magazine, and discovered I knew jack shit about anything. Oh, sure, we had Mixer over here, and a few forums helped fill out some blanks, but most of what we got was still the heavily promoted names, sounds, and DJ mixes anyone could find in a typical HMV ‘electronica’ section. All the coverage Muzik provided showed there was a layer of electronic music few on my side of the pond bothered with, and in my OCD way of wanting to learn everything, eagerly consumed their gospel.

Such blind faith wasn’t earned without some effort though. While I enjoyed the print, those first couple free CDs weren’t enough to convince me outright Muzik was better than others. Then came the January 2002 issue, which included a CD spotlighting the best tunes of 2001. Before even looking at the names or tracks, I questioned the point of such a collection when the previous CD was already a “Best Of” based on Muzik’s awards; plus, I barely knew any of the names. New Order, of course; Slam, definitely; Björk, absolutely; Timo Maas, I think so. And yet, I hadn’t heard anything essential from these names, much less new-to-my-eyes acts like Chocolate Puma, Bent, The Rhythm Masters, or Bel Amour. Surely Muzik was stretching their notions of what constituted essential.

Hell no, they were totally right. Between prog, house (of all sorts), downtempo, and breaks, their selections opened the lid on what I thought clubbing music could entail. All those drab ‘Crasher and Cream discs didn’t deserve their shelf space if it was holding back Ashley Beedle’s remix of Always or glorious disco-loop house like Agent Sumo’s 24 Hours. If Muzik was in the know about such ace material unheralded in the Americas, then their other recommendations had to be mint as well. Thus began my downloading campaign from them, and all those Mixed Goods discs. Yay.

Various - Motion 2: A Six Degrees Dance Collection

Six Degrees Records: 2002

This alphabetical stipulation is a burden sometimes. Its fine when I enter a CD series that has some prestige behind it - Global Underground, Fabric, Fahrenheit Project (!) - but what of the obscure ones? I can't imagine folks were waiting with bated breath as I went through four volumes of Elemental Chill last year, and Lord knows I was running on fumes by the end of but two mega-volumes of Goa Trance: Psychedelic Flashbacks. Now we have Motion where despite containing another round of classy tracks, is likely destined to languish in the back corners of this blog once disappearing from front page rotation.

Trouble is there's so little to talk about these CDs beyond the nuts and bolts review fodder. I'm not versed enough in Six Degrees that I can provide a grand perspective on Motion 2's standing with the rest of the label, much less proper world beat at large (dear Lord, those New Sounds Of Brazil CDs look scary). And while I hope whatever readership I gain is open-minded enough about this music to not dismiss it out of hand, I suspect this is entirely too niche for all but the truly musically adventurous out there. Perhaps Six Degrees realized this, hence one of their ongoing slogans being “Everything Is Closer Than You Think”, hoping an occasional curious listenership found unsuspecting kinship with arts and culture seemingly so wildly distant.

That said, Six Degrees Records probably overshot their estimation of how many folks out there were gonna' dig their stylee. Motion only lasted two volumes, the remix culture none too interested in dance floor weapons from a deep world beat label. Heck, I only picked this one up out of a sense of completion when I saw it sitting in a used shop. Oh, alright, I also wanted a proper copy of that Jack Dangers Mix of Banco de Gaia’s How Much Reality Can You Take?. Don’t look at me like that, this remix is some skilled big beat action!

The rest of Motion 2 features more mint examples of house and breaks, though isn’t as dynamic as the first one. Good example is another remix of Bob Holroyd’s Drumming Up A Storm, this time handled by Bob himself. His go treads blissy nu-jazz vibes, which is fine for this sort of thing, but compared to the exhilarating tribal workout of Romanthony’s remix, it’s just not as fun. Of familiar names recognizable by even the most layman of clubbers, Chicago house don Ron Trent indulges himself in some Latin shuffle in Batidos’ Tengo Sed, and Josh Wink does the minimal techno thing on Tweaker’s Linoleum (the good kind!).

There’s more, but I sadly suspect my words would fall on dead eyes. Names like Faze Action, Q-Burns Abstract Message, and 95 North do command respect within their respective scenes, but something tells me their fans aren’t about to scope out a Six Degrees Records compilation with names like Euphoria, Hawke, and Monica Ramos on it.

Various - Mixed Goods XV

(~): 2002

TRACK LIST:
1. Intro
2. Fred Everything - Let You Down
3. Blakstone - One Thing
4. Blaze featuring Palmer Brown - Do You Remember House?
5. Fred Everything - Universal Mind
6. Fred Everything - Another Soul
7. Barrington Levy - Under Mi Sensi
8. Fred Everything - Under The Sun
9. Fred Everything - Derby
10. Blaze featuring Palmer Brown - Do You Remember House? (Azzido da Bass Tech Drops)
11. Fred Everything - Without
12. Fred Everything - Revolution

Lazy, lazy, lazy, lazy. Did I not care about these anymore? Eh, not really. WinMX continued to suck balls as an AudioGalaxy replacement, and all the other suggested replacements were too sketchy for my liking. Also, I was employed again. And had real money again. And lived close enough to Vancouver that I could visit awesome music stores when I felt the urge to check new music! Downloading felt horribly unnecessary and so not worth my while any longer. I mean, just look at that track list up there! It's basically Fred Everything's album Under The Sun, with a few smatterings of other tunes. Why didn't I just buy Mr. Everything's album proper-like instead? Gathering MP3s was kinda fun at first, hunting about for music you knew was difficult to find at that day in age. Then, it became tedious, a chore for diminishing returns. Hell, I didn't even care enough to find a spiffy cover for this fifteenth volume of Mixed Goods, going with a rather generic 3D spheres thing.

I’ve really backed myself into a corner here with so much Fred Everything. I could tell you a bunch about his career, and his style of summery, loopy deep house (some people call this ‘liquid tech’ now, for some stupid reason). If I did that though, I’d have nothing to say when I do get around to reviewing Under The Sun (like, probably over a year from now). Well, okay, I’ll let you know that Derby is dubbed-out bliss, but that’s all.

The Blaze tune was a minor hit when it came out, even if it deals in a house trope that’s almost as old as the house ol’ Palmer’s reminiscing about: the ‘back in the day’ monolog. Still, Blaze has never made a bad track in their career (if they have, please don’t tell me – I cherish the ignorance), and Do You Remember House? is no exception, perfectly capturing vintage house vibes without coming off retro. Learn from these guys, o’ ye House Revivalists of our modern times.

Blakstone provides my obligatory ‘dark prog’ cut, and I’ve no clue which ragga version of Under Mi Sensi that is up there; it was all I could find when I initially searched for the original. With that, I’ve said all I’m willing to with Mixed Goods XV. Tunes are fine, but are hopelessly redundant within my collection. Meh, why couldn’t Mixed Goods XII have survived instead? That one was great! Ah well, one more to go.

Various - Mixed Goods X

(~): 2002

TRACK LIST:
1. Aqualite - The Outback (DJ Taucher Remix)
2. O.T. Quartet - Hold That Sucker Down (Aquagen Remix)
3. DJ Kayos - Acid Vibes
4. Reverse Pulse - Flexible
5. Tom Wax - Amphetamine
6. Sunbeam - Solar Surfing
7. Stimulant DJs - Stop The Groove
8. Komakino - Dynacore
9. Spicelab - We Got Spice (Humate Remix)
10. Spicelab - Bad Rabbit
11. Sunbeam - Dreams
12. Shorty Bone - Dream Phase

My memory's hazy on this one. I distinctly recall seeing the image in an online gallery and thinking, “That's what I want for Mixed Goods X! It'll make for a wicked X-Files rip-off!” I'm pretty sure I'd also escaped interior-BC purgatory by this point, so my thoughts would have been on developing covers, including ones for future use since I had access to a printer again. Pity not the ink jet that handled this one, my friends, for it was a noble death.

The track list, however, has me wondering otherwise, as it's full of acts that don't make sense for the time. Komakino, Spicelab, Sunbeam, and such almost certainly would have been prioritized when I made my first searches in the world of P2Ps. Yet here they are instead, almost a good year after getting involved with AudioGalaxy. Perhaps after making the switch to WinMX, I tried my luck again to see if any new results came about? A smattering of leftovers I was saving for a theme-appropriate Mixed Goods? Or maybe it was that interactive Flash thingy I'd stumbled upon that pointed out tracks of ye' olden days, inspiring me to dig a little further again (Enlil's Tour Of Digital Rhythm, Melody & Harmony, or something).

I’m not sure what else to say about this one. As a collection of old school German trance, it’s alright, but I’d already put the best stuff on that Hypnotic: Electronic Purity CD, plus most of the other Spicelab material on its own disc (long since demised). The Aquagen Remix of Hold That Sucker Down pales compared to the classic Builds Like A Skyscraper Mix, and of all the leftover Komakino I’d yet to get, it’s an old, hard techno tune that makes the cut here. Still, gotta love Shorty Bone’s free-wheeling hard acid trance. So raw, so fun.

The outliers on Mixed Goods X aren’t much cop either. I have no clue why I got an NRG track in Stop The Groove, as I had but a passing tolerance of the stuff most of the time. Then again, when you’re growing desperate for any tune out of Muzik Magazine’s back pages, you’ll settle for Stimulant DJ’s. And Reverse Pulse’s cover of Depeche Mode’s Flexible barely sounds like the original at all – more like a left over German trance track the Pulsers had, and dumped some distorted vocals on top. Why do I have a feeling of déjà-vu talking about that one?

Various - Mixed Goods IX

(~): 2002

TRACK LIST:
1. Jondi & Spesh - Creep Phase (Dub)
2. Chiller Twist - Strings Ultd (Shelly Mix)
3. Futurecast - The Future (Is Now)
4. Powerplant - With Or Without You (Blackwatch Mix)
5. DJ Gollum & DJ Yanny - Watch Out (Mellow Trax vs Lars Palmas Remix)
6. Dirty Vegas - Days Go By (Galastasory Mix)
7. Jay-J & Chris Lum - Freaks Like Us
8. Walley Lopez & Dr. Kucho - Acid Journey
9. Jondi & Spesh - Creep Phase (Original)

This might as well be Dark Prog 2, even though the music here isn't as endlessly plodding as some of the stuff on that disc. It is a consistent theme on Mixed Goods IX though, and also having the dubious distinction of the volume I always forget is on it.

Yes, even the Dirty Vegas hit Days Go By. I remember that I did nab that track almost immediately after seeing that Mitsubishi car ad like everyone else (so cool, so class, so vibe), but not where I put it. In fact, even going back to this CD just now, I was surprised to find Days Go By on here. Incidentally, this “Galastasory Mix” credit must be mislabeled, as Lord Discogs has no return for such a name. It just sounds like an 'extended mix' anyway, and for all I know, it's the proper original version (I don't have their album, nor do I care to get it). I'm only keeping it titled up there thusly as a testament to the wilderness that was post-AudioGalaxy P2P hunting of the early '00s, where mislabels were common. Many times you thought you'd stumbled upon a new, unique tune or remix, only to find it horribly, incorrectly titled (remember, kids, properly label your rips), or deliberately misleading to give the uploader undeserved fame (oh hi, DJ Mystik). At least this MP3 of Days Go By wasn't credited to Paul Oakenfold with a Digweed remix.

*whew* Was that paragraph ever long. What sort of specific tracks are we dealing with on Mixed Goods IX, then? There's some deep, dubby stuff here from Jondi & Spesh – mm, like dub techno, but with warmth. Chiller Twist's Strings Ultz was a minor, melodic hit back in the day, while Walley Lopez & Dr. Kucho bring a proggy bit of acid to the table. Even hard dance mongers DJ Gollum & DJ Yanny get a classy acid-prog (!!?) rub for Watch Out. Also, why is nearly every artist and remix on here a duo? Even two of the aliases (Powerplant and Futurecast) are duos. I swear I didn't intend to piece together Mixed Goods IX as a showcase of that! Maybe prog was entering its “we cans Sasha & Digweed too” era with credits?

Despite always forgetting about this compilation, it's still a pleasant disc to hear whenever I do throw it on. Can't really say the same for the remaining Mixed Goods, but they're definitely memorable, if not for the best reasons.