Groove Armada - Lovebox

Jive Electro: 2002

This may be Groove Armada's fourth album, but I always think it's their second. Once again, I blame my Canadian exposure to the band Andy Cato and Tom Findlay built. Their first album, Northern Star, was a non-entity in my hemisphere of the globe, such that we all figured Vertigo was their debut (only the Brits knew better anyway). And while Goodbye Country (Hello Nightclub) was the hotly anticipated follow-up to Vertigo, I can't say it made much of an impression in these here parts, for two reasons. One, the cover-art was kinda' drab, a homely thing that looked more like any dozen of chill-out compilations floating about at the time (reminds me of something off Late Night Tales), thus easily lost on store shelves. Two, the album had the unfortunate timing to be released on September 10, 2001. Uh, yeah, North American folks were gonna' be a tad more preoccupied than scoping out a new Groove Armada record.

Lovebox though, there was no missing that, what with it's big neon artwork against a stark black backdrop, released a year after most nations had regathered their wits. The quick turnaround into another LP caught many off guard, figuring the Armada lads would have wanted their Goodbye Country material to gestate a little longer. On the other hand, with I See You Baby and At The River still getting more airplay than anything in their current discography, it wouldn't surprise me if Misters Cato and Findlay were hit with a surge of inspiration to make music as far removed from those tunes as quickly as possible. Even they had to be tired of hearing about sandy dunes and salty air.

Aside from hot neon colours, you know what else was creeping into clubland around this time? Good ol' fashion 'rawk', the sort of drunken, rowdy business new wavers so often indulged in Back In The Day. Disco punk was peeking its head outside of New York City enclaves, and there was something irresistibly trashy about this new-fangled 'electro-house' biz'. Groove Armada must have noticed these underground developments, as Lovebox features some of the rockiest dance music I've heard from the year 2002 (very small sample size).

Like, there's no denying where their heads are at opening an album with a song called Purple Haze. It's a suitably heavy, thumping groover that doesn't sully the Hendrix song at all, while Groove Is On gets more on that funk action for your all-night festivities. And if those weren't enough to let your hair down, Madder is a fun head-banger tune. Then there's some obligatory house jams (Final Shakedown going a little garage, Easy going a little disco, Lovebox going a little deep, and But I Feel Good going a little ...reggae?), and some soulful downtempo cuts too. Oh, and Remember reminds us that, yes, if Groove Armada wanted to keep rehashing At The River forever after, they could easily do so with skill and finesse. They just, like, don't want to, that's all.

Weekend Players - Pursuit Of Happiness

Multiply Records: 2002

(A Patreon Request from Omskbird)

Andy Cato will forever be known as one-half of the commercial juggernaut that is Groove Armada, but the chap's had a far more fruitful musical career than that pairing with Tom Findlay. He released several house singles under several one-off aliases in the half-decade prior to Vertigo, plus found time for other collaborations with the likes of Mike Monday and Alex Whitecombe. They even flirted with trance on occasion, the group Qattara having some minor success during the genre's commercial heyday (a Paul van Dyk approved hit in Come With Me helped). And while Groove Armada pretty much set him up for life, that collaborative itch didn't end, finding time between that project and DJ gigs to work with other musicians.

One such pairing was with Rachel Foster, a vocalist with very few Discoggian credits to her name prior to meeting with Andy. For whatever reason, a Balearic house bug had bitten Andy, and Ms. Foster provided the suitable pipes needed for his single, 21st Century. Sensing a vibe distinct enough from his work with Tom Findlay, Andy and Rachel dubbed themselves Weekend Players, roped in Groove Armada bassist Jonathan White for the ride, and set about making an album of chill-out compilation fodder.

I'll admit I'd never heard of this project before, but then my Groove Armada interest was only the passing fancy most North Americans had in the wake of singles like I See You Baby and Superstylin'. Certainly not enough to browse into Andy Cato's various projects, though digging through his discography has definitely been enlightening. Pursuit Of Happiness did reasonably well though, tunes like Into The Sun and I'll Be There hitting high marks in that bastion of taste, the US Dance Charts - getting featured in various CSI shows probably helped.

That's all the particulars out of the way, so how's the music then? There's a lot of familiar Groove Armada markers, like 'that trumpet', or 'that light jazz vibe'. With more focus on Ms. Foster's vocals though, Pursuit Of Happiness comes off less cheeky than a lot of G.A.'s stuff – classier, music intended for the coffee shop that uses home-brewed beans rather a corporate farm. Trip-hop that's in its post-Millennium gentrified state (Best Days Of Our Lives, Jericho, Subway, the titular cut), or acid jazz that's kinda' lost as to exactly what it is anymore (Subway). Music for when you want to cruise along charming coastal towns thinking of sandy dunes and salty air, but want something other than that specific Groove Armada song (Higher Ground). Peppy house music giving you true-blue Balearic feels without spending ridiculous sums at tourist traps (Into The Sun, Play On, Through The Trees).

Overall, Pursuit Of Happiness is a charming record, and charted reasonably well for an Andy Cato side-project. In the end though, there's not much that different here than on any number of downtempo albums of the era, and perhaps Weekend Players realized it as well, disbanding a couple years after this record's release.

Various - Disco Heaven 02.02

Hed Kandi: 2002

I mentioned that 2002 is generally agreed upon as the year that Hed Kandi's quality peaked out. The following couple years weren't too bad, though a definite dip in consistency was settling in. This here Disco Heaven compilation is indicative of the problem. “Wait,” you probably think, “the label fashioned itself after appealing, uplifting house music, and disco's got that in spades. Hed Kandi would be out of their mind not to create a compilation series celebrating it!” And you're right, they did create a series, almost from the outset. It was called Disco Kandi. This, on the other hand, is Disco Heaven. That's right, Hed Kandi was finding so much success in the compilation market that they doubled their disco house options. By the next year, they'd set up a third series called Twisted Disco, and more recently a Nu Disco series. Plus don't forget the one-off Destroy The Disco. I'm surprised they haven't done a Disco Classics yet.

Point is, Hed Kandi's covered a lot of disco house in its day, probably spreading the choice selections out too thin in the process. They might have handled it okay in the early going, as label head Mark Doyle remained passionate of his pet project, but no one could maintain so many compilations with any regular consistency, especially if the franchise kept growing and growing with new series every few years. Small wonder it got sold off to Ministry Of Sound.

And for what reason did Hed Kandi see fit to create Disco Heaven in the first place (beyond muscling in more Hed Kandi covers in record stores)? Mark Doyle's liner notes state “we just thought it would be better to have a new title instead of hitting Disco Kandi 37 sometime next year!” Alright then.

Near as I can figure it, Disco Heaven offers up one disc of your standard uplifting, soulful garage house music – the stuff you'd find on Disco Kandi - and a second CD with clubbier tunes that feed off that loopier French filter funk. Like, I have no idea whether the Disco Kandi dabbled that way too, but I don't recognize any tracks of that sort in those CDs. Meanwhile, Disco Heaven has Junior Jack's Thrill Me; aka: that tune that apes the bassline from Daft Punk's Burnin'. I honestly thought it was some remix of Burnin' when I heard it here, only because I'd totally forgot about Junior Jack's version.

Anything else? Names I recognized from a glance included Kings Of Tomorrow, Full Intention, DJ Antoine, Kenny Dope, StoneBridge, Francois K, Jamiroquai and Shawn Christopher. Names you might recognize include Indigo, The Lab Rats, Shakedown, Kim English, and DaYeene. Really, name-dropping feels pointless with this collection. Disco Heaven is rather all one-note (and one-BPM) throughout, and does get weary hearing Yet Another House Beat unmixed over and over and over. It's still fun in spurts, but a little more variety would have broken up the monotony too.

Various - Beach House 04.02

Hed Kandi: 2002

I reviewed a couple Hed Kandi's Winter Chill compilations while it was still technically summer, so it's only appropriate that I tackle one of their summery collections as winter is settling in. Yeah, we're still in the autumn months, but the fact the West Coast got a white dusting already – the West Coast! - tells me winter is getting a head-start on its yearly shenanigans. I must combat it, then, with fun-in-the-sun Balearic beach music. Funk music for frolicking in the briny waves, soul music for sashaying through the blistering hot sand, and house music for hiding in the shade lest our pasty-asses get burnt by unforgiving UV rays. Man, beaches are kinda' terrible, when you think about it.

But hey, never was there a marketable concept that Hed Kandi couldn't exploit, and Beach House was quickly established as the upbeat companion to their summery Serve Chilled compilations. It's proven to be one of the brand's most successful series, enduring to this day, even dipping into the 3CD option in recent years. Man, considering the label's drop in quality control post Ministry Of Sound buyout, not to mention what's thought of as mainstream 'classy' house these days, I couldn't handle three discs of such waffle. Maybe others couldn't either, hence a return to the two-disc format in 2017.

Beach House 04.02 is the fourth in the series though, released back in Hed Kandi's peak years. Can't argue that based on the track list, some real classics mixed in with the less familiar tunes. I mean, we get Ashley Beedle's Mahavishnu Remix of Bent's Always, one of the best European deep house singles that emerged from the year 2001! There's also X-Press 2's Lazy, Beth Orton's Central Reservation (with a rub from Spiritual Life and Ibadan), Nick Holder's Sumer Daze, and Kaskade's It's You, It's Me (when Kaskade made good music). And that's just the closing stretch of CD1!

Actually, that's about it for recognizable artists, at least where I'm sitting from. Miguel Migs shows up for the dancier CD2, and I spy an Axwell remix on that disc too, but it's mostly blanks for the likes of Rawsoul Orchestra, Jetlag, Jon Cutler, Octave One... two-thirds of Beach House 04.02 really. Not that they're bunk artists or anything, just that there's so much house music out there, keeping tabs on everyone's a difficult proposition. I feel if I'd dug into these Hed Kandi compilations more often, I'd start seeing several repeated contributors, but alas, my exposure remains but a sampling, as only indulged when I spy an eye-catching discount price.

So the music's all fine, but if I must make a quibble, it's that this Beach House compilation only feels properly 'beachy' some of the time. Like, these could just as easily be played in lounges or a terrace, though during daylight does remain optimal. Whatever, I'd prefer a solid selection of tunes that sometimes fits a theme, than a mediocre selection of tunes that struggles to fit a theme.

Gorillaz - G Sides

EMI Music Canada: 2002

By the point of Demon Days, springing for additional Gorillaz material seemed a no-brainer. Damon Albarn and Jamie Hewlett were so meticulous in expanding the brand's memorabilia and lore that you almost felt left out if you didn't check out every aspect of it. Nowadays, it's easy-pie doing so, most resources readily available online. It's also made doing interactive media all the more challenging for the duo, as among Gorillaz' many manifestos, one of them was to always use cutting edge technology in bringing their virtual band to the masses. It's gotten so technical that they've brought Murdoc and 2-D into our meat-space via remote imaging and cartoon holographic digital-quantum trickery, hackery, puppetry, wizardry, and 23@47~{ry. It's a far cry from their early, simple days, when having CD-ROM bonuses was about the peak of extra content.

I mean, that was one of the selling points of G Sides back when wasn't it? The two music videos included on the CD? It's honestly remarkable they fit two on here in the first place, most CDs only having room for one vid' at best. And while including Clint Eastwood would be rather redundant by 2002 (that got massive rotation on TV the year prior), no one had ever seen the Rock The House video yet. I don't know if that one ever aired, either debuting on G Sides, or as an unlockable on the original Gorillaz website. I barely even remember how that thing operated, only that it was considered state-of-the-art web design way back in 2001, with the original Gorillaz CD acting as a key to bonus features like cartoon shorts and the like. As I had a barely functional piece of junk PC at the time, I never got to explore 'Murdoc's Winnebago', and by the time I did get a computer that could, Gorillaz had already moved onto Phase 2, rendering the site obsolete. Oh well.

Obviously all that content is now easy to find online, meaning the only reason to get G Sides now is for the music. Okay, that was a reason back then too, though you must have been one hardcore fan to spring for this album – or just liked more of Mr. Hewlett's artwork. Gorillaz has evolved into a remarkable institution these days, but fifteen years hence, it was seen as little more than a novelty with a clever marketing campaign and some killer singles. That much of the debut album is filler, however, isn't brought up much anymore, seen as a bunch of genre fusion lacking a concise concept linking it altogether as later albums would. If you're down for more of such genre fusion, plus alternate versions of Clint Eastwood and 19-2000, then G Sides is a fun little bonus to the Phase 1 material. It's even got Noodle doing a couple solo outings with electro-pop Faust and trip-hop Left Hand Suzuki Method, singing in Japanese and all. It's as though she could make a whole Gorillaz album herself or something.

Craig Padilla - Vostok

Spotted Peccary: 2002

As usual when confronted with a different language than Canadianese, I had to do a quick search online for a 'vostok' definition. Like, I assumed it had something to do with a cold, wintery climate, but you never know with these musicians, so often unearthing obscure minutiae for inspiration. Eh, I can simply check the liner notes to find out? Ah, that would be handy, if I had the actual CD to do so. Besides, where's the fun in that? I should attempt some pseudo-sleuthing 'round these here parts. To the Wikisaurus!

And wouldn't you know it, I've turned out some unintended nuggets of knowledge-drop gold here. 'Vostok' is general term in Russian for 'east' (in reference to the Orient), but has many other references too. The Vostok rockets, for instance, which included the Vostok 1 mission, mankind's first ever spaceflight. It's also one of the craters on Mars that the Opportunity rover explored. Plus, here on good ol' terra firma, there's a Vostok Bay way out on Russia's eastern shores. There's also Vostok watches, Vostok Gas, Vostok Games, and Vostok motorcycles. I now know more about 'Vostok' than I do the artist behind this album, Craig Padilla.

Mr. Padilla has floated on the periphery of the ambient world for two decades now, getting an early start on the old MP3-dot-com website. After a few years there, he found other prints to release music on, including Space For Music, Groove Unlimited, and Spotted Peccary, Vostok being his debut with the latter. He remains a steady producer to this day, though no where near the level of output some ambient composers generate. Incidentally, this isn't my first brush with Craig Padilla, having touched on a contribution of his to the first volume of Ultimae's Fahrenheit Project. I didn't even recall that until I was checking out the chap's Lord Discogs entries, though you can't really blame me for it. His Beyond Beta was a nice piece of layered pad ambience, but didn't stand out so much compared to- what, I gave him ACE TRACK status too? Oh dear... um, I have no excuse for him slipping my mind then. Shame on me.

And yes, Vostok is in reference to Lake Vostok in Antarctica, a body of water submerged beneath many layers of ice. Due to the overwhelming pressure above, it isn't frozen solid, instead slowly melting and refreezing over vast expanses of time. Padilla aimed to recreate what it might be like trapped within that deeply isolating place, with nothing less than the single-track LP form doing the trick. Running over fifty-one minutes long, Vostok is quite the minimalist piece, gradually adding and building layers with droning thrums, distant rhythms, and glistening synths lazily meandering along. Some two-thirds in, the track retreats for some spritely synth doodling, but soon brings everything back for a... well, not a climax – this is ambient after all. Wait, lengthy build, breakdown, return, lead-out. Oh my God, Vostok is 'epic ambient', isn't it!

High Contrast - True Colours

Hospital Records: 2002

It may come off as ridiculous hyperbole to claim this album forever (and a day) changed the way Hospital Records went about doing drum ‘n bass, but it’s pretty much the truth of the matter. Liquid funk as a genre already existed as a nebulous idea, though with few clear, identifiable traits dozens of producers followed up with. High Contrast almost single-handedly codified how the new-fangled ‘fast soul music’ concept would be done on London Elektricity’s print, everyone following Lincoln Barrett’s form in defining one of this century’s most popular strains of d’n’b. Heck, if a mighty Pendulum hadn’t come along with their own style, liquid funk could very well still be top dog to this day.

So yeah, True Colours (or True Colors for y’all yanks), a Very Important Record in the history of d’n’b, but not exactly the best album out of High Contrast’s discography. Frankly, that would be his confident sophomore effort, High Society, if nothing else than for the liquid funk stylee coming fully formed and furious on that record. Or maybe Tough Guys Don’t Dance, what with its liberal sub-genre hopping. True Colours though (or True Couleur for the Francophones) is clearly Mr. Barrett in his early stages, more conservative in his productions, perhaps a little unsure whether the whole liquid funk thing would catch on beyond a flight of fancy for casual heads. Well, London Elektricity believed in it, abandoning any pretensions of carrying jazzstep’s legacy in favor of High Contrast’s fresher, brisk beatcraft with hooky soul samples galore.

For sure there’s some gems of the genre within True Colours (or True Rangi if you speak Swahili). Make It Tonight was the first single High Contrast put out, nearly a year prior to his debut full-length dropping, and I can’t be the only one noticing that string hook bears some resemblance to Codename John’s Deep Inside Of Me - hey, soul samples can come from the recent past as well as some dusty ‘70s 7-inch. Passion also came out in the year 2001, closing in on the sound that would turn Hospital Records into a dominating force, though that bass tone’s a bit rough. But yes, the definitive liquid funk classic, Return Of Forever, is the opener, bringing nearly everything you expect of the genre (such a glorious string section!). Perhaps the only surprising thing regarding it now is how the build-drop template doesn’t tear out as hard as liquid funk typically does - they were still defining them, after all.

A few jazzsteppy numbers round out this ten-tracker (Music Is Everything, Remember When), but by and large True Colours would rather let the ‘fast soul music’ mold settle than fool with eccentricities. That general lack of diversity in True Colours may be a turn-off for liquid funk followers who came to the genre late in the game, though I’d be astounded if such quibbles were deal breakers for that scene’s fans. They really are a devoted, passionate sort.

Galaktlan - Sinine Platoo

Kohvirecords/Carpe Sonum Records: 2002/2015

Carpe Sonum Records does reissues too? Wait, of course they do. I already reviewed one of them, Gabriel Le Mar’s Stripped - though that was but a two-year gap between digital-street date and spiffy CD re-up. And despite finishing the album way back in the yesteryears, I can’t really call Si Matthews’ Tales Of Ten Worlds a reissue either, since it never saw an actual release until Carpe Sonum tapped it. There could be more concrete examples I’m missing – I’ve only started scratching the surface of this label’s brief catalog – but I’m hard pressed to come up with a better one than Galaktlan’s Sinine Platoo. This came out way back in ye’ olde age of 2002, on the hopelessly obscure Estonian print Kohvirecords. Galaktlan was one of that label’s primary producers, though that’s not saying much. Kohvirecords released a scant twenty items over the course of a decade, featuring the likes of Uni, Barbariz, Pastacas, and Paf - names on the tips of everyone’s tongue, I’m sure.

Galaktlan was probably the most prolific of the old Kohvi’ roster. Born Taavi Laatsit, he made his debut on that label as Vonsuck, formed the group Uni with Hendrik Luuk, hooked up with Aivar Tõnso as Kulgurid, teamed up with a few more Estonians as Kismabande, and eventually found another home with SekSound. Not sure how he got roped into the Carpe Sonum continuum for a reissue for his debut Galaktlan record. Like, he wasn’t even included with that mega-ultra super-deluxe Pete Namlook tribute box set Die Welt Ist Klang! Someone at the Carpe Sonum office must have been a fan, eager to expose the (slightly larger) world of contemporary ambient techno to what the great nation of Estonia was up to in this scene many moons ago.

Some interesting things for sure, if Sinine Platoo is anything to go by. Not revolutionary or groundbreaking by any stretch, but interesting. At first I was hit with a sense of Gas 0095 déjà-vu, the first couple tracks vibing a similar scientific-music aesthetic Mat Jarvis utilized. Heck, Sulase Surm could have fit quite snuggly in that album alone. Follow-up tracks -15, Mina Kaheks and Videoton are closer in tone to the O.G. ambient techno stylee Aphex Twin spearheaded, but feature such small, skittering rhythms, I still can’t shake that Microcopics feel. Please don’t tell me folks would try labeling this as ‘glitch’ nowadays. It’s ‘micro’, yo’!

Some tracks go for a funkier, bouncy rhythm (40 000 Lampi, Klavestra), others more abrasive compared Galaktlan’s typical electro beatcraft (-15, Veneetsia). These are miniscule differences though, such that you’ll hardly notice it without paying studious attention to them – which you likely will, considering the minimalist vibes we get here. This reissue also sees a couple bonus tracks, including an even older track Num, a clicky electro thing Mille Plateaux sorts would like. Then there’s Sulase Surm Repriis, a minute-long piano piece from the way-future year of 2013. Huh, don’t get how that ties into Sinine Platoo at all.

Klaus Schulze & Pete Namlook featuring Bill Laswell - The Evolution Of The Dark Side Of The Moog

Ambient World/MIG: 2002/2016

I wasn’t considering detailing the bonus discs of these Dark Side Of The Moog box sets. True, I’ve a commitment to reviewing Every.Single. CD. of my music collection, but I’ve fudged things here and there. Most double-disc entries receive a lone write-up from yours truly, and even 3CD sets are sometimes reduced to a singular offering of my self-imposed word count (sorry, Trade: Past-Present-Future; not-sorry, This Is… Techno). What harm is there in quickly glossing over redundant features, of which I’m almost certain these bonus discs are. What does Vol. 1 of this bundle include anyhow?

The Evolution Of The Dark Side Of The Moog, eh. Huh, it’s got completely different cover art from all the stock ones used for the other CDs. It also apparently contains tracks from each of the first eight editions of the series (or ‘excerpts’ in the case of Wish You Were There and A Saucerful Of Ambience, since those two weren’t indexed as typical albums). I guess this would serve as a handy hour-long summation of Namlook’s work with Schulze, picking out the highlights, or at least the best musical representation of the project. Why stop at Dark Side Of The Moog VIII though, when the series made it all the way to XI? There’s more than meets the eye with this CD, and I must find out. I must!

*clickity-clickty clack; searching Lord Discogs ain’t wack*

Well I’ll be darned. The Evolution Of The Dark Side Of The Moog was indeed a separate release, put out on Fax +49-69/450464 reissue sublabel Ambient World. And as it came out in 2002, there was only eight volumes of Dark Side Of The Moog available anyway. This… also means that I now must review this CD as its own entity, but out of alphabetical order since it’s contained within this first box set. My OCD is sending conflicting demands.

Charmingly, it opens with a bit of dialog from Robert Moog himself, offering an introduction to The Dark Side Of The Moog, plus his email address or some reason. This was used in the fifth album of the series, and has now thusly ruined the surprise for the next review. Thanks, MIG!

Only a three minute synthy piece from Wish You Were There makes the cut for this Dark Side Of The Moog mega-showcase, but A Saucerful Of Secrets gets a whopping fifteen minutes plucked from its lengthy runtime. Fortunately, it’s the best fifteen minutes of that session, starting with energetic techno before heading into another synth solo from Schulze. Part III and Part IV of Phantom Heart Brother shows up, and if you can’t remember which those were, um… it’s the electro piece, and the synth heavy techno piece. Three Pipers At The Gates Of Dawn features Part VII and VIII, a short drone portion followed by another techno work with Laswell Bass (Ace Track, remember?). And as for the remaining tracks, I’ll tackle them when I come to them properly. Y’know, spoilers and all.

Various - Turbo Studio Sessions (Vol. 3) (Original TC Review)

Turbo: 2002

(2016 Update:
And so concluded one of my first attempts at a series retrospective. Not that I'd planned for it. Come to think of it, why did I even carry on reviewing these? The first one was a Random Review, true, but I cannot for the life of me recall the reason for taking on the second volume a year later. Slow month, maybe? For sure that's why I went into Vol. 3 half a year later, plus it just made sense to wrap that up since it was one of the few compilations series that I did have a complete set of. I've since gathered a few more.

While I know Turbo only puts out CDs for their top-billed albums (if even that), it's a shame they don't still do these Studio Sessions. It was a wonderful way of bringing to light the unheralded underground gems that fall through the cracks, all the while breaking new artists and sounds. The label still maintains a finger on the pulse of hot house and techno, so why not keep something like this series on the market, maybe even as a digital option? Eh, they do have one, called Turbo #Beatport Decade? Alrighty then; hard copies, NAOW!)


IN BRIEF: Electroclash at its finest.

For the few years Tiga’s little-label-that-could grew in prominence, it had played things safe with the underground crowd - house, techno, eclectic DJ mixes: all tried and tested fields with hipsters. Then, seemingly overnight, Turbo’s focus changed, fully embracing the sounds of electroclash coming out of Europe right at the cusp of that scene’s breakout. The shift hinted at Turbo growing assured enough to be a leader rather than a follower. What they would need then, was big singles tied to their name.

It wouldn’t be enough for them to merely import DJ Hell’s label either. If Turbo was to cement itself as a label to be reckoned with, they would have to bring fresh material of their own rather than ride on International Deejay Gigolo’s coattails. Tiga’s cover of Corey Hart’s Sunglasses At Night was a start, but with a scene ripe with innovation and potential, surely there would be more. With their third Studio Sessions compilation, Turbo found the perfect outlet to introduce the next wave of nu-new wave artists.

Looking at this release’s tracklist today, there seems to be a fair number of obvious electroclash hits. However, these were quite new in late 2002; only the most underground of collectors knew who acts like Black Strobe, LCD Soundsystem, and Chromeo were. Of course, within a year of Sessions 3 being released, tracks like Me & Madonna, The Biggest Fan, and Needy Girl were featured on more nouveau electro compilations than anyone can remember now. Does this make them any less endearing today? Not at all. These hits were good then and they still hold up today. And with that scene having gone by the wayside, you don’t have the annoying ‘currently overplayed’ factor impeding on your enjoyment of them.

Still, because they were such popular songs, you can find them on any similarly themed compilation. Your decision on whether you should pick-up Sessions 3 in the here and now will be decided on how the supporting cast handles itself. Let’s take a look-see then.

Although a few tracks retain some of Turbo’s older eclecticism, (most notably the first two cuts), this is mainly an electroclash compilation - but that’s a rather ambiguous term, then and now. More specifically, Sessions 3 features a smorgasbord of styles that got tagged with the catch-all buzzword: disco punk, synth-pop, art-dance. In general, if it contained elements of electro and playful narcissism, you were electroclash whether you liked it or not. Tracks like Mt. Sims’ Escape Hatch, Plastique de Reve’s Rodeo Mechanique, and Sean Kosa’s Spaceship hold such quirkiness, but aren’t endearing examples. Better off is the pure electro from Lowfish’s Dark Matter, and an indie-rockish Fujiya & Miyagi track.

A major standout though (and surprising choice these days) is pre-Time Magazine interviewees Scissor Sisters, who’s irresistible faux-workout romp Electrobix conjures up the silliest moments of 80s workout videos. Who would have ever guessed this act would blow up the way they did a year later? Perhaps Tiga did, which makes the inclusion of their debut single on Sessions 3 look genius by hipster standards. And speaking of Tiga (again), his remix of Crossover’s Phostographt also fits the ‘so campy, it’s great’ bill nicely, as it displays the graceful yet devilishly playful streak in his productions.

Meanwhile, with Turbo’s fortunes looking good, Tiga started up a couple sub-labels, both of which have material featured on a disc each. Their criteria was focused on specific styles rather than the broader strokes Turbo’s singles often released.

The shortest lived of these sub-labels was Fabergé. In fact, almost all of its total output can be found here, as only two singles were ever made: Chromeo’s She’s So Gangsta (of which the Playgroup instrumental is included) and Shawn Ward’s Street Smart EP (with two groovy tech-house cuts offered). Peter Benisch’s Song For A Heart (as Bifrost) never saw a release beyond this compilation, which is a shame as the track is hauntingly lovely, and shouldn’t be left buried in obscurity.

White Leather held out a little longer but it too eventually went by the wayside. The tracks offered in this sub-label’s name are more interesting, as they mostly fall under that pure electro umbrella of sound, with 808 drum machine programming, under-produced synths, and heavy vocoder usage (DMX Krew and Sean Kosa exempt in this case). The instrumental cuts from D’Arcangelo and Jordan Dare are fun, but Neonwerk and Peter Benisch (as FPU this time) steal the show with their moody soundscapes and mesmerizing vocoder work. Strangely enough, neither of their tracks would see a proper White Leather release, although Seven Of Nine did appear on the full-length FPU Turbo release while Neonwerk had their own label Star Whores anyway (heh... gotta’ love that euro-trashiness).

While Sessions 3 doesn’t contain the stylistic variety of the previous releases, it is probably the best of all three. It’s rare for a two-disc compilation to remain as tightly focused as this one does, but there is an amazing amount of variety to be had despite sticking to a very similar sound throughout. Of course, if that whole electroclash sound never appealed to you, you probably won’t get much out of this release. If you do enjoy the kitschy side of electronic music though, then seek out this little gem of a compilation. There’s enough balance between big hits and classy unknowns to draw in both the casual and the ardent music collector.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2007. © All rights reserved.

Various - Trance Sessions

Shadow Records: 2002

This CD doesn’t make sense. Not one small bit of sense. Barely a smidge of sanity is associated with it. How does Shadow Records, a label that built its reputation on trip-hop, jazzdance, and leftfield techno, throw its hat into the big ol’ trance-tastic PLUR-poodle? Trance Sessions isn’t some coy, smirking title, where trance is but a concept for exploring the hypnotic potential of deep spliff jams. Nay, this is full-blown, hands-in-the-air, gurn-off-your-face trance, with the gated pads and the acid lines and the supersaws and the off-beat basslines and the trite vo- no, wait, there are no vocals here. Okay, point to you, Shadow Records.

That still doesn’t explain why a label that broke DJ Krush and Ninja Tune to an American audience palled about with the trance scene. Heck, wasn’t their parent label, Instinct, still in operation anyway? They’d released some trancey material back in the early ‘90s, so why not again if they’re so intent on putting out a little trance? No, wait, Instinct was dabbling in indie rock at the time – that’d be an utterly bizarre clash of scenes right there. And while big-time trance money was being made by the British superclubs and globetrotting DJs, it wasn’t that popular in the States; plus the scene was in the midst of a recession as 2001 drew to a close. Ultimately, my best conjecture is, in accordance with Shadow’s other [Style] Sessions series of compilations, the label felt it only appropriate in giving the popular clubbing music a chance. They even went all-in with the concept, getting a continuous mix from Shawn Francis, and even inserting a tiny glowstick into the spine of the clear jewel case. Because if you’re gonna’ cheese out, you may as well own it full-stop, right?

Actually, Trance Sessions gets off on a surprisingly solid start. Things kick off with Afterhours from Alphazone. No, not the supersaw hard trance mongers everyone loved in the mid-‘00s; this one’s a solo project from a Brian Castro. His track’s also rather old-school, with floating Balearic vibes, gated choir pads, and the like. Two more remarkably old-school tracks for the time follow, from a chap by the name of Bluescreen (one Anthony Voitek… more on him at a later date). Explore has a minimalist MFS vibe going for it, while Razor gets all agro with a muted acid hook. Fourth cut Avalanche from Sentinel gets (then) current with a progressive trance tune that would have fit snuggly in an early Global Underground mix. Trance Sessions is shaping up as a nifty under-the-radar collection of trance.

Then it goes completely off the rails. Boshy tracks playing one after the other, hard crossfade slam negating any sense of flow, and tunes that just aren’t that good or memorable. Jan Dexter’s Believe sounds especially cheap compared to the stronger opening salvo. Cannot deny Masters Of Balance’s Long Way Home gets some Sash! charm going for it, but it’s not enough to rescue an abysmal back-end to Trance Sessions. Shame.

Various - Muzik Presents Trance Classics

Muzik Magazine: 2002

Yet another trance classics CD, but wait, not all is as it seems! This was a free CD from Muzik Magazine, whom at this late point in the rag’s lifespan was among the UK’s biggest shittalkers regarding the genre. They believed in trance, once upon a time, singing the praises of the hypnotic, melodic side of techno back when so few other prints gave it attention. They promoted the hell out of Dragonfly Records, Platipus Records, Hook Records, and maybe even a mainland Europe label or two. They wrote charming articles regarding the ‘ABCs Of Trance’, and shot a critical eye in the direction of the ‘Crasher Kids phenomenon, sensing the ensuing rot that would bloat the scene to ridiculous levels of caricature. As the year 2002 came to a close, Muzik Magazine realized the battle was lost, their once underdog genre now an entirely different beast, filled with laser-soaked gurning punters with no recollection or care of trance’s history prior to the year 1998. They only had small measures of joy taking snarky potshots at the latest bit of bilge floating about their office for review.

No, wait, that’s not right. In this very same issue, they respectfully give props to Lasgo, marking them as one of the frontline shock-troopers of ‘ecstasy pop’; aka: vocal trance. They just can’t deny the kids like it, eh? Damn it though, they outta’ learn some of that history, so here’s a cheeky free disc of ‘proper’ trance classics that they can listen to while reading up on that Lasgo interview. Clever bastards.

Right, of course all that above is supposition, though makes for a fun little narrative when put in context of Muzik’s history. What more likely happened is Trance Classics comes from an aborted project that was intended for storewide distribution. Remember that [Genre] Muzik Classics series? In conjunction with Beechwood Records, the magazine released a few volumes highlighting the best/important tracks of major genres/scenes, including techno, d’n’b, and, erm, ‘Ibiza’. It wouldn’t surprise me if they had a Trance Muzik Classics in the works before cutting ties with the dodgy print, but man, what to do with all those licensed tunes you got? Save ‘em for later, I guess; maybe a free CD down the road.

As Trance Classics was curated by a British magazine, you’re damn right this is su-u-u-per biased to their homegrown talents. Simon Berry gets three tracks alone (you know which ones), while Enervate and 1998 (Binary Finary Remix) make their requisite appearances. Germany does get a look in with Metal Master’s Spectrum (Hoffmann and Väth), plus Paul van Dyk’s rub of Qattara’s Come With Me. At the harder end of the trance stadium, a lesser-known Chris Cowie hit crops up with X-Cabs’ Infectious, while Trade anthems Shinny from Elevator and Are Am Eye? from Commander Tom round things out. And finally, no Dutch nonsense, which makes this Trance Classics a zillion times better than ten volumes of A State Of Trance Classics.

Various - Trance Central - Return To The Classics Vol. 4: Jørn Stenzel

Planetary Consciousness: 2002

We’re flooded with ‘trance classics’ collections these days, but at the turn of the millennium… eh, they were still common. Any popular genre with enough history will have scores of tracks available for easy licensing, and with a solid decade of action behind it, trance was no less filled with handy tunes for quick cash-ins. Most often this was handled by major labels with financial clout raiding labels for their CDs, but you were lucky if such a release had a curator who put some actual thought into it. Who’s got time for carefully considered representations of a genre when the easiest path is regurgitating the same ol’ anthems everyone’s familiar with, amirite?

Seems the folks behind short-lived German print Planetary Consciousness thought differently, aiming at a DJ mix series that properly delivered on its byline of ‘returning to the classics’. Helmed by label everyman Hardy Heller, Trance Central – Return To The Classics promised no modern anthems, strictly tunes that defined trance in its early years, no matter how liberal you could go with the definition. Yeah, there was just as much progressive house and techno on these as anything else, but so it went in those days, hard borders still fuzzy in the early genre wars. Mr. HH also only did three CDs worth of mixes before moving on, after which one Jørn Stenzel took the reins for a fourth before Planetary Consciousness was swept into Daredo Music.

Okay, enough blah blah, yakkity bore about details. D’eez jams, then! How dope be this trance classics set when you got names like FSOL, Spicelab, Resistance D, Jam & Spoon, and Nikolai on it? Ah, it’s pretty fine, though not without its issues either. The CD opens with The Age Of Love, because I haven’t heard that song enough already. Then we go through DHS’ techno chant House Of God (“the house of God, God… house of God...”), Rejuvination’s groovy piano house Requiem (Part II), and pseudo-EBM cut Running from Tyrell Corp., another early alias from the Abfahrt posse. It’s about as rough a run of tracks as you’d expect from such early records, more a showcase of overlooked tunes than an actual piece of set construction. Nay, this CD doesn’t really take off until Satoshii Tomiie’s prog rub of Papua New Guinea. Oh, did I mention Stenzel occasionally uses (then) modern remixes of classic tracks? Some might call that cheating, but Human ‘98 is great regardless, and hearing Eternal Basement take Stella down such a sinister route gives some extra life in the old girl.

Overall, Stenzel’s set has two major highlights. First, the transition from Peyote’s (re: Dance 2 Trance) ode to Chief Josesph’s stirring “I will fight no more forever” speech into B-Zet’s rub of Dissidenten’s Jungle Book Part Two. It’s positively stirring, your heart breaking at hearing those words melt into the melancholic, floating space chords of the latter. Second, Spice Is A Fulltime Occupation is glorious old-school Oliver Lieb unleashed. They definitely don’t make ‘em like that anymore!

Various - Tracks From The Best Dance Albums Of All Time

Muzik Magazine: 2002

Best tracks of all time? Pft, everyone does those, Mixmag in fact doing the deed just a few months prior to this issue of Muzik Magazine. Figuring out what the best long-players of dance culture, however, was apparently something no one did before, so claimed the editor’s blurb within. Given how inundated with such lists we now are, I find that hard to believe, but then it’s not like electronic music had as long a history as rock did. By the year 2002, EDM journalism was barely a decade old, most rags giving their dutiful Best Of The Year lists and leaving it at that. Still, those darn winter months, they’re slow for news, so here’s a trusty cliché article to get through February.

The list is actually interesting, even if the choices are rather predictable. Each producer or act is offered a lone entry, their definitive release as it were; except The KLF, both albums Chill Out and White Room making the cut, because they’re The K-L-f’n-F, y’heard. Obvious albums like Leftism, Sheet One, Dubnobasswithmyheadman, and Dummy rub shoulders with artifacts like Kraftwerk’s Trans-Europe Express, Soft Cell’s Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret, Throbbing Gristle’s 20 Jazz Funk Greats, and Grace Jones’ Nightclubbing. Then-current hits like Felix Da Housecat’s Kittens & Thee Glitz and Roots Manuva’s Run Come Save Me share space with old classics like Depeche Mode’s Violator and Soul II Soul’s Club Classics Volume One. Hip hop gets its due with Missy Elliot, Eminem, and Public Enemy representing. And while I generally agree with Muzik’s selections, no doubt others will find contention with the chosen LPs of the scene’s biggest names. Reverence over Sunday 8pm? Blue Lines over Mezzanine? Exit Planet Dust over Dig Your Own Hole? Play over Everything Is Wrong? Accelerator over Lifeforms? Ima over ESCM? Selected Ambient Works 85-92 over Selected Ambient Works Volume 2? Ray Of Light over anything else in Madonna’s discography?

I could go on and on about this list, but self-imposed word count dictates I must talk about the free CD Muzik included with this issue. Yeah, it’s a good collection of tunes, a decent enough representation of the list without having to break the bank with licensing fees. As DJ Shadow’s Endtroducing….. scored the top honors, it’s only appropriate his track What Does Your Soul Look Like kicks things off. From there we get some bleep techno courtesy of LFO, some collage shenanigans courtesy of Negativland, and some trip-hop action from Tricky. Pet Shop Boys’ Can You Forgive Her? is given a deep house rub by MK (or, as the kids call this style now, ‘future house’), Timber from Coldcut & Hexstatic provide the requisite Ninja Tune showing, while Rae & Christian’s Swansong (For A Nation) sends us out.

Also, holy cow, UK bias much with this disc? Out of the eleven tracks, seven hails from the UK, three reside in the USA, and a lone Icelandic lady round out the rest. I bet she could beat them all at soccer.

Coldplay - A Rush Of Blood To The Head

Parlaphone: 2002

I suppose if you’re gonna’ have any Coldplay album, it may as well be this one. It’s stronger than their debut, wherein the band members’ quick success had provided plenty confidence in their song-writing. It’s also still early in their career, before all the pretentious waffle that came associated with the band emerged, their sound fresh in the minds of everyone coming within earshot of Clocks and In My Place. It’s definitely the best-selling of Coldplay’s albums, earning over twenty-million sales globally, despite not even hitting the number one spot in America. Thanks to its ultra-success, nearly every album since A Rush Of Blood To The Head debuted on top of charts the world over, the streak finally ending with last year’s A Head Full Of Dreams.

And just what gave Coldplay’s sophomore effort such undeniable fame, fortune, plaudits, and popularity? Eh, I’m not the guy to psycho-analyze this. Given its never-ending placement in “Best Ever Rock Albums” lists, not to mention the massive market penetration, more than enough folks have provided in-depth insight into what made this album ‘work’. I’ve only given the band passive interest over the years, their ubiquitous presence upon radios abroad sating whatever Coldplay need I ever had. Nearly did pick up that X&Y album though, what with promo hype promising inspiration from electronic music past; impossibly, eye-catching cover art didn’t hurt either, luring me in as fuzzy Lepidoptera to flame.

Talk about A Rush Of Blood To The Head I must though, and my stunning conclusion of this album is… yeah, it’s a nice listen. Not shattering any narratives here, my friends. Coldplay have that sweet middle ground of pop sensibilities while presenting themselves with enough earnest songcraft that you can’t fault them on any basic musical level. The melodies fill a room as pleasant background fluff, have enough substance to lure you in for a closer listen, and never wander too far off the path of familiarity. It’s the sound everyone figured Radiohead would have made if that band had only explored their inner U2 capabilities rather than go full-on Pink Floyd. In other words, exactly the music most magazines are quick to heap praise upon, radios are quick to flood the airwaves with, and folks were eager to own in their still-practical CD collections. Fair play to Coldplay in filling that apparent gaping void, though it cannot be denied hearing In My Place every week for the past decade is too damn much for any sane person.

I don’t know what else to say about A Rush Of Blood To The Head - today’s events are kinda’ distracting. I’ve read speculation attributing the album’s success to the aftershock of the 9/11 terrorist attacks, a calming musical journey that also provided a sense of motivated urgency in how people should proceed. While playing this on a day like today, reading of innocent people falling to yet another senseless, preventable tragedy, that theory was definitely put into practice for yours truly. Rest well.

Skin To Skin - Temenos

Waveform Records: 2002

Skin To Skin is another ultra-obscure act that Waveform Records made a habit of signing at the turn of the millennium, many of which didn’t do much after. So it also seems to be the case for this duo of Lena Måndotter and Ronnie Hall, but their page at Lord Discogs is rather bizarre. Obviously we have this album Temenos in the database, but sitting beside that is another called Walking On Water, claiming to be a folk and country rock release. That’s worlds different than what we have on this CD, so is it the same Skin To Skin? The cover art of Walking On Water does feature a lady/dude tandem in sunset, standing on water, so possibly. There’s also a single under the Skin To Skin banner, In The Shadow Of Love, with genre tags closely resembling Temenos (tribal, ambient, minimal (?)), but this one has a three-piece featured on the cover.

Going further down the Discogian Hole, Lena Måndotter apparently has a solo album out called Songs Of Leonard Cohen, released some time after all the Skin To Skin material. A very brief Google search reveals a little more, but I’m already way off track even finding basic background info about this group. The only thing I can conclusively link all this together is the fact every version of Skin To Skin is from Sweden. Naturally then, Temenos has an ancient Grecian vibe going for it.

Whatever the origin or ongoing story behind Skin To Skin, Temenos is clearly music modeled on the TUU template. Music that’s very meditative, conjuring images of Pagan rituals of cultures old and lost. Right, the Greeks aren’t really a forgotten civilization, but much of their fantastical mythology fits the bill. Thus when I hear the lengthy, minimalist rhythms, intermittent strums of acoustic guitar (bouzouki?), and droning chants of Temenos, Pt.1-3, I can’t help but think of seers assembled at oracles gazing to the heavens, seeking signs and favors from the Olympians above. Temenos itself is a site intended for meditation or reflection, so I’m not so off there.

Clocking in at nearly thirty minutes in length, Temenos, Pt. 1-3 is clearly the main feature of the album, but Side B of this CD does find further explorations of Skin To Skin’s sound. Daimon nearly hits the eighteen minute mark on its own, going from soothing calm to deeper chant throughout its run. There’s more musicality going on in this one, a clear progression compared to the meandering Temenos, but remains a rather sparse piece of meditative ambience. Final two-parter Nekyia goes dark and ominous, fitting considering the origin of the word (rite by which ghosts were called up and questioned about the future, according to WikiGod). Between both tracks, it runs a tidy nineteen minutes, gradually building from Skin To Skin’s minimal, meditating style to a heavier, dubbier groove; rather if Banco de Gaia was slowed right the f’ down. Hmm… k-holed world beat? Nah, that’s a stupid tag.

Various - Simulus

Psychonavigation Records: 2002

We’re going way back in Psychonavigation’s history with this one, folks. Back to the time before they earned much rep’ outside their native Dublin. Before the change when they focused primarily on artist albums. The years when their chief output was the compilation. An era where vinyl was still on their market! The age after the oceans drank Atlantis and before the rise of the sons of Aryas; the days of high adventure! No, wait, that's too far. Pretty sure this label's of a more recent era than when Conan The Barbarian was lopping heads aplenty. The beginning of Americanaland’s end, yeah, that'll do.

Having taken in all these Psychonavigation albums now, I feel I’ve gotten a decent bead on who’s their main acts, who’s their outside contributors, and so on. I look at the track list for Simulus though, and I’m drawing a blank on nearly everyone here. Move D shows up, taking some time away from his hundred-zillionth session with Pete Namlook to provide a jazzy, smoky, blues-hop number in Downtime. A few other names on Simulus have a decent amount of Discogian presence. The Rip-Off Artist released some eight LPs in a very short amount of time in the early ‘00s, with the man behind the name, Matt Haines, working with about a half-dozen other aliases before and since too. A couple others, like The Last Sound and EU, have continued releasing material to this day, though on various different labels than Psychonavigation. Names like Matthew Devereux and Manta even got albums out on this print shortly after. Mostly though, we’re dealing with artists that had a few items out around the time this compilation was released, and promptly disappeared shortly after from all Lord Discogs’ records. Except for Undermine, I have no idea what their story is, the Discogian link directing me to an American hardcore punk band from the early ‘90s. Psychonavigation’s done a few dalliances in its genre explorations, but I’m pretty darn sure Keith Downey’s never been tempted to go that route.

Instead, Simulus is another CD that supports my association of Psychonavigation with Shadow Records, in that this is one seriously trip-hoppin’ collection of tunes. For sure we get a few glitch IDM cuts too, such as Mantra’s click-n-bass Endent, The Rip-Off Artist’s bleep-hop Thief Of Hearts, and The Last Sound’s neurofunky Life Flashes, though that’s served as a specific segment showcasing such sounds. In fact, Simulus is separated into four such distinct parts, each with a brief intermission called Got That? marking the transition. Makes more sense for the vinyl version I guess, but it’s cool to hear some concept being applied to a compilation regardless.

Mostly though, the tunes on Simulus do that turn of the century trip-hop thing a lot of labels were doing in Ninja Tune’s wake, with spicy splashes of other genres for good measure - breaks in The Turner Experience from Dan Warren, ambient techno in Winter from EU. An interesting CD, all said.

Sven Väth & Richie Hawtin - The Sound Of The Third Season

M_nus: 2002

Standing out in a crowded DJ mix CD market was no mean task a decade ago. You could have a stellar selection of tunes and credible hype getting your name out there, but even the best PR may not sway folks to your offering if it’s still presented as just another rinse out of current tunes. Sven Väth though, he knew he had something special going on with his Cocoon nights at Amnesia. The Monday night slot only helped its allure grow with underground heads, Cocoon becoming a refuge for partiers tired of weekend superclub excess, and Väth had no trouble providing uncompromising techno they would appreciate. Soon he was bringing in premier techno jocks the world over, including one Richie Hawtin for a tag-team residency in the summer of 2001. Their night was so successful, so memorable, so life-changing and affirming (especially for Richie!), that they sought to capture the vibe for home hearing pleasure. Whether as seductive advertising for the club night, or a postcard memento of the experience, The Sound Of The Third Season hoped to take the listener on an immersive dive into the Cocoon experience.

By the by, if you’re a newer participant in this global culture of dance music, you should know we’re dealing with the Pre-Crisis versions of Hawtin and Väth here. The latter is still in his doofy eurotrash phase, so no grizzled Papa Sven beard for you. And Hawtin had yet to grow his hair back, still rockin’ the perfect robot scalp of the ‘90s, though clearly in brighter spirits than those dour times.

This is also before Hawtin decreed all techno could only be serious and ‘mnml’ music, thus instead rinsing out some absolute bangin’ material for his opening portion of this CD. True, it was the preferred sound of techno at the time, but it’s almost startling to hear a Hawtin set encompass things like an actual hook in DJ Shufflemaster’s Play Back, Pt. 3, to say nothing of the slightly tech-trancey chords in Smith & Selway’s rub of Slam’s Step Back. I wonder if Richie’s embarrassed by this phase of his today? As for Sven, he picks right up from Hawtin with the techno pummelage, then goes into noisy electro and punk techno (Vitalic, Hacker, Legowelt, and John Starlight all make appearances), which isn’t surprising for a 2001/2 set of this sort.

What marks Sound Of The Third Season as a unique entity, however, is all the field recordings Sven and Hawtin gathered, interjecting them at various points throughout the mix. Their aim was to recreate the atmosphere of a night out with them, including a t-bone steak dinner prior to the club, plus some afterhours shenanigans too (with Swayzak music!). Some folks complained these bits ruined the set flow of the CD, and Väth never repeated the trick in future installments of this series. I find it a worthy experiment though, plus rather hilarious for the final bit of ‘not-at-all-high’ dialog at the very end.

Tom Middleton - The Sound Of The Cosmos (Part 2: Music Review)

Hooj Choons: 2002

Rhythm, melody, and harmony: our most basic understanding of music. The beats stimulate the body, the notes stimulate the brain, and the chords stimulate the heart. Entire cultures have centered their arts around any one of these tenants, some even finding fascinating ways of combining them into works of creativity for the ages. Studies, essays, lectures and philosophies have spent countless words detailing and describing just what it is about these things that drive so much of humanity’s inexplicable appreciation of aesthetics. I, for one, shall not bore you with such ramblings, as I know we’re all listening to The Sound Of The Cosmos for a little bit of boogie action, and a nice afternoon chill sesh’ on the weekend. Plus quips. I know you love the quips.

As pretentious as a triple-disc set exploring aspects of rhythm, melody, and harmony may sound, Tom Middleton's approach is rather middle-of-the-road for such a concept. The tunes dug up don't stretch far beyond his comfort zone, much of it coming off like a mixtape rather than an industry changing ultra-set. I guess the fact this is a 3CD DJ mix was unique, made more so in that there's very little bandwagon jumping of trendy genres here. In fact, with all the deep house and downtempo jazzy vibes throughout, The Sound Of The Cosmos is incredibly noncommercial for its time, which likely helped sweeten the “Best Mix Of 2002” accolades every journalist was throwing Middleton's way. A high profile release lacking a pile of recognizable hits, where music comes first? Have all the ribbons, mate!

Still, a few high-profile tunes do make their way over the course of these three hours, none more so than Middleton's mash-up of Tiga & Zyntherius' Sunglasses At Night and New Order's Blue Monday. Quirky mash-ups of old and new hits were already buzzing in the underground, but this one crossed far enough into the public's awareness, it kicked off a brief period of everyone trying their hand at mash-ups; even Madonna! It's the sort of tune that works brilliantly as a climax, so it's hilariously cheeky on ol' Tom's part that he dumps it so early in CD1 (Rhythm), as though getting his one obvious anthem done and dusted so he can carry on with fresher tunes in his crate.

CD1 carries on with more rhythm-centric tunes, though if I’m honest, all this acid jazz and 2-step garage doesn’t do much for me. Maybe I’m just spoiled for the funkier electro earlier Middleton music offered, but any set that includes MJ Cole always gets a big ol’ “meh” from me. CD2, Melody, is all deep house all the time. Familiar names include John Beltran, Herbert, Ananda Project, Schmoov!, and Télépopmusik’s one big hit (also played out early in the set). It’s a good mix, but nothing I haven’t heard before.

Then there’s CD3, Harmony. It is one of the best morning-after downtempo and trip-hop mixes I’ve ever heard. ‘Nuff said.

Tom Middleton - The Sound Of The Cosmos (Part 1: Historical Musings)

Hooj Choons: 2002

The Sound Of The Cosmos was a big deal when it dropped in ye' olde year of 2002, though I'm hard pressed in giving adequate reasons from a modern perspective. It's a class mix all around, no doubt, but were we really so enamoured by 3CD DJ mixes at the turn of the century? Not at all, the format actually rather rare as the 2CD route was the traditional method of letting a jock stretch their skills behind the decks (turntable or studio). Besides, with a market thoroughly saturated in DJ mix CDs and a consumer base not exactly flush with funds at the time, it was simply commercially viable sticking with a proven formula, folks more than willing to spring on double-disc sets. Anything more and you’re looking at box set compilations on the cheap(ish).

Let’s put it this way: even though a triple-disc set from Sasha, Digweed, Tenaglia or Cox would be a sure-fire money maker at the turn of the millennium, none of them did the deed, the buying public content with the 2CD format. Even after Mr. Middleton’s The Sound Of The Cosmos earned all the plaudits, praises and Best DJ Mix accolades, the market still stuck things out with single and double-disc rinse outs. A few triple-disc releases cropped up in Balance and Renaissance 3D, but it wasn’t until recent years that we’ve seen far more examples of the 3CD DJ mix, even if only as something intended for hardcore collectors. And yes, you may point out the irony what with the ol’ aluminum’s dwindling prospects as the public’s preferred playback method.

This leads us to our next quandary: why Tom Middleton? For sure he’s a respected name in the world of electronic music, his discography already filled with classics by the time this came out (Jedi Knights, Global Communication, Cosmos, Secret Ingredients), but not exactly well versed in the commercial DJ mix business. A couple outings for Mixmag aside, The Sound Of The Cosmos was his first proper release in the market, and Hooj Choons saw nothing less fitting than giving the Muzik Magazine Q&A columnist a three disc concept release as a debut. I guess they had no choice if he was to see his vision to fruition - centering mixes around the three main tenants of music wouldn’t do if relegated to portions of two CDs. Maybe Mr. Middleton was owed a few favours from Mr. Red Jerry.

More likely though, ol’ Tom had garnered so much positive karma within the industry that it was only appropriate that he get such a project green-lit by Hooj Choons. It also garnered him plenty of kudos from everyone who came within earshot of The Sound Of The Cosmos, an epic DJ mix that wilfully defied standards of the time, even setting off a few trends of its own. For details on that, however, check out Part 2 of this review. Hey, if In Trance We Trust 020 gets a two-parter, so does this.