Various - Saint-Germain-Des-Prés Café Vol. 5

Wagram Music: 2004

Though I'm hardly a nu-jazz connoisseur, I like it enough that I don't mind springing for a compilation or two if I stumble upon them on the cheap. And Saint-Germain-Des-Prés Café is classy enough that you know you're in safe hands even as a complete rube. This is now the third CD from the series I've bought, and oddly enough, I've only picked up odd-numbered volumes thus far. What is this, some sort of subconscious reverse Star Trek movie selection? Actually, that would be darn hilarious if the even-numbered volumes of Saint-Germain-Des-Prés Café were somehow significantly worse than the odd-numbered ones. I don't even know how that'd be possible, since nu-jazz tends to maintain a steady modicum of talent and skill to perform it. Maybe supreme jazz experts could tell the difference of quality between each performed piece, but for most of us plebs, it's all the same, laid-back, cool chillin' vibe. Still, I'm tempted to make my next purchase in this series be Saint-Germain-Des-Prés Café 7, just to keep this accidental pattern going. OCD... compels...

So while some familiar nu-jazz sounds and artist staples re-appear for this fifth go-around (De-Phazz! DJ Cam! Dzihan & Kamien! Norah Jones! Gotan Project! Meitz?), something new has also been added. Or rather, something old, but new for the series: real jazz. As in, traditional instruments, classic 'cool' performances (or whatever that late '50s – early '60s development was), and nary a synthesizer in sight. Not just a one or two-off either, but chunks of this CD devoted to it. Street Of Dreams with Stacey Kent & Jan Lundgren Trio is exactly the sort of jazz you probably instinctively think of when the term is thrown about. Brisa Roché does a tidy little vocal-bop number featuring a trumpet solo. Chet Baker adds his sad trumpet to Gotan Project's soft Parisian soul 'Round About Midnight.

And some of these tunes, I swear tricked me into thinking they were performed au naturale, so smooth these producers are in their trade. Like, David Borsu's Late Nite Swing sounds like a regular ol' soul-jazz jam with the drummer and the trumpeter and the keyboarder and the singer and all; but no, it's a Belgium DJ fusing a bunch of elements together, though I think the vocal snippets of numbers should have clued me in sooner. Koop adds Astor Piazzolla's bandeoneon (aka: comedy-sized accordion) for a tidy tango ditty in Veulvo Al Sur. Then there's Nicola Conte's Bossa Ahead Remix of Eli Goulart E Bando Do Mato's Meu Samba (so many consonants), sounding not a touch out of place from whatever Latin jazz musics you fancy. Makes me wonder if the 'remix' tag is even necessary. Rearrangement, mayhaps?

Of course, there's the obligatory tunes with a heavier emphasis on jazzy drum programming (Slow Train Soul's Inna City Woman), or dubby funk (Refactoy's Yo Solo Queiro, Patchworks' Deep Ocean). Through it all though, you'll definitely come away with a craving for a mocha and croissant. Preferably by a seaside vista.

Stuart McLean - A Story-Gram From Vinyl Cafe Inc.

Vinyl Cafe Productions: 2004

As Canadian cultural icons go, I can’t say Stuart McLean is well known outside our borders. Obviously quite a few athletes, actors, and musicians has more fame, but even among comedians or media personalities I can run off a fair number before folks abroad draw blanks: Don Cherry, Red Green, Rick Mercer, George Stroumboulopoulos, Ed The Sock, Ron MacLean (no relation), Peter Mansbridge (okay, pushing it) …um, that Jian guy that doesn’t deserve any spotlight these days.

Nay, Stuart McLean probably ranks around Royal Canadian Air Farce as far as cultural impact goes, a steadying presence one could count on should they happen across his popular radio broadcast The Vinyl Café. And despite his death this year, he’ll likely live on with rebroadcasts, the show one of CBC’s most endearing. His skill as a storyteller was such that he could take the mundane minutiae of suburban life and have you captivated in the twists and turns each tale took. Seldom anything so zany as to be unbelievable, just simple events that anyone could find relatable (oh God, as I’m typing these words, I’m hearing it in Mr. McLean’s cadence).

The Vinyl Café revolved around a couple named Dave and Morely, and their two children Stephanie and Sam. Dave ran a record shop from which the series based its name on, though for the longest time, I kept imagining a coffee house filled with walls, stools, couches, and even specialized mugs covered in vinyl. I can’t imagine that being too appealing to those with allergic reactions to the material. When I clued in that wasn’t the case, I then thought McLean was reading these stories to an audience within a place called The Vinyl Café, because I didn’t tune in enough to think otherwise. Yeah, can’t say I was a studious follower of McLean’s work, but didn’t mind staying on the channel for a while should I hear his voice on the airwaves.

As the series was successful by Canadian broadcast standards, it naturally spun off books and CDs. A Story-Gram From Vinyl Café Inc. was the fifth double-album released under the banner (not including a Christmas album, because of course there would be one), gathering up a half-dozen selections from McLean’s storytelling tours. Yes, two discs worth, as each story typically runs around the twenty minute mark each. They can come off long-winded in the beginning, yet succinct by tale’s end.

And as for the stories included? Oh, the usual sort of things a suburban family may go through. A miscommunication over Dave perhaps dying (featuring lots of gifted lasagna). Morely joining a book club that’s ridiculously pretentious. A sapling growing in the gathered dirt of Dave’s old car. How Dave dealt with the labor of their first child. Dave’s feeble attempts to erase an accidental, disparaging message left on a neighbor’s tape machine, which includes hijinks with an oversized magnet that would have Wile E. Coyote thinking this is a little over the top. You know, everyday Canadian stuff.

Vector Lovers - Vector Lovers (2017 Update)

Soma Quality Recordings: 2004

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.)

I remain woefully neglectful of those two Vector Lovers albums between this and iPhonica. I simply don’t know if I’d like them though. I mean, I’ve heard some of the singles Martin Wheeler put out around that time, and they’re all tech-hausy, or deep-techy, or dub-hausy. Fine if you’re a DJ looking for some rinse-out material, but I enjoyed Vector Lovers for the touching electro melodies and groovy robot funk, so I haven’t been in a hurry to- Eh? They’re not like that? How can I corroborate this info? Oh yeah, Spotify. Guess I should do some ‘music journalist research’ on this then. Hold on.

*a couple illuminating hours later*

Um, oh wow. Huh. I had no idea. Just goes to show you can’t judge an album by its associated singles, eh? Still, despite my primary reservations, I’d likely have dropped some cash for those albums if I spotted them on the cheap. A decade on, and they still haven’t come down from full price, some of them fetching upwards in the hundreds of dollars now, which is mind-bogglingly bonkers. On the other hand, these are decade-old CDs now, released on a label that probably didn’t have a huge production run of them in the first place. For sure Soma Recordings has clout in the world of techno – they got this particular album into the Vancouver shop I stumbled upon in the year 2006 after all – but even they must run out of copies eventu- Eh? They still have copies for sale on their online store? Um, oh wow. Huh. I had no idea. Say, that British Pound isn’t doing so well right now either, is it?

Since my original TranceCritic review of Vector Lovers is already plenty and exhaustingly detailed, here’s some additional items of interest I gleaned in my Spotify trawl of Mr. Wheeler’s music. First off, the 2011 Electrospective didn’t just gather up a ‘best of’ collection of Vector Lovers, but also offered them up as ‘remastered’ versions too, essentially beefing them up musically, practically turning them into remixes. For the most part these are handled with enough class as to not render the originals moot, but Spotify does, replacing the original tracks with the remastered versions on the albums too. That… just might make the CD copies rare collectibles now, the only place one can hear the originals. Incidentally, five tracks from Vector Lovers made the cut on Electrospective.

Another track that did was an A2-side to the Electrobotik Disco single, Shinjuku Girl. It’s a nice little downtempo electro number in that easily identifiable Vector Lovers stylee, but I must draw attention to another cut off that EP, Electrobotik Disco Part II. Holy cow, if you thought the album version, or even Electrosuite, was ace dancefloor material, this tune takes all that robot future-funk, then feeds it through a galloping techno beat that’d have all the ‘electro’ guys of the mid-‘00s quivering with hearts in their eyes. How have I missed this for over a decade!?

High Contrast - High Society

Hospital Records: 2004

We’re hitting peak liquid funk with this one, folks. Hospital Records and its whole damn crew were flying high in the year 2004, their fast soul music cutting a hyper-uplifting path of critical and commercial success few others in the d’n’b scene could match. Then along came some Aussie group a year later, completely changing the scene once more, and earned a fuckton more critical and commercial success than the Hospital posse could ever have achieved – heck, anyone doing d’n’b at the time. That didn’t deter London Elektricity and his roster of liquid funkers from carrying on as they did before, in fact enjoying just as much commercial success as when they were the new hotness. They just didn’t have as many critics gushing over their sound anymore, many lamenting the label’s refusal in evolving with the times. Um, have these critics ever paid attention to jungle at large? Once a genre is established, it stays that way forever after. It’s why the scene’s filled with so many persistent micro-niche interests.

But let’s return to that peak, Hospital Records high and mighty after a string of highly touted records. One of those was London Elektricity’s Billion Dollar Gravy, which I covered way, way, way back in the day. The other was High Society, High Contrast’s highly anticipated sophomore effort. Man oh man, is this paragraph heavy on the ‘high’s. High can’t help it, this album filling my happy centers high with PLUR goo, that I high and high, hi-diddly-high dii-o. (hi!)

Yeah, we’re firmly entrenched in ‘don’t fix an unbroken thing’ territory with High Society. Lincoln Barrett’s debut was a mildly moodier affair; still honoring the ‘street’ vibe soul music came from and had been capably executed by jazzstep sorts prior. By this point though, the adoring public had spoken, demanding more divas, MORE tear-out, MOAR liquid funk! And who was High Contrast to deny these fans what they craved? Someone who didn’t want to get pigeonholed perhaps, but if that was ever the case, he sure hides that hope here. If you’re at all familiar with any of Hospital Records’ output, you’re gonna’ know what to expect on this album, Mr. Barrett keeping the d’n’b jams peppy with uplift to spare. It can get a tad corny at times, and folks who figure jungle are serious-step business will obviously scoff at such pleasantries, but you cannot deny High Contrast’s consistency as a producer throughout this album.

He does show some further development in his style though, making use of more vocalists rather than strictly relying on samples as with his earlier material. Dynamite MC is here! Spoonface is here! No Lay is here! Um, Tomahawk (4) is here. Right, aside from the first one, I’m not familiar with any of these names, but they provide nice flavor to the album regardless, especially No Lay’s grime spitting on Angels And Fly. And hey, is that a touch of the ‘trancestep’ I hear in The Persistence of Memory. Cheeky, cheeky…

Various - Tunnel Trance Force Vol. 30 (2016 Update)

Tunnel Records: 2004

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.)


So these CDs. Or singular CD, if I’m honest, having lost Disc 1 some time ago. Right, I ‘technically’ never had Tunnel Trance Force 30 in the first place, as this was a ‘special request’ review from TranceCritic’s ‘man in charge’, the chap who early-on always got us poor ‘writers’ promoting contemporary hard ‘trance’. Fool, only old-school hard trance is worthy of my ears, but sure, I did the deed; with increasing levels of ludicrous hyperbole should you brave all them words and stuff. Since I resided on the West Coast though, and he on the East Coast, the only means of music request procurement entailed digital transfers via internet tube connection. Yeah yeah, big surprise TC’s ‘promos’ weren’t always ‘legal’, but when you’re scraping from the ‘bottom’, some ‘corners’ had to be ‘cut’. I’m in a very ‘apostrophatic’ mood this afternoon.

Anyway, I burned the two mixes to CDr, listened to them a couple times, got that review out, then figured I’d never play them again, collecting dust on a spindle of forgotten burns. Then along comes a better computer into my life, with actual storage capacity. And I thinks to myself all those forgotten burns on a dusty spindle, I may as well shove ‘em on this newer-fangled technology, despite odds of a replay being a shade above zero. Is there a cure for OCD yet?

Strangely, my CD1 burn of Tunnel Trance Force 30 disappeared on me, and I have no idea of how that happened. It’s not like I ever brought these out for a casual play …at least, not to any sober recollection of mine. Shame, because I might have even enjoyed disc one a bit, what with a few of the better hard trance names included on there (Cosmic Gate, DuMonde, Kindervater, Marc Et Claude). Wait a minute… *re-reads original TranceCritic review* Nope, I was wrong – I’d definitely still dislike it.

That still leaves us with CD2 though, titled 30.2 Mix. Cannot deny there’s some initial fun having all these hard trance and pseudo-hardstyle bosh tracks assaulting my ears, but yeah, the gimmick wears old fast, and I’ve checked out after that lone decent cut in Power To The People. Breakbeats, man, is there no genre they can’t make better?

When I first discovered Tunnel Trance Force had hit its thirtieth volume, I couldn’t help but marvel at its durability. 2005 Sykonee, you hadn’t seen anything yet, the series lasting all the way to a seventy-first edition before it folded in 2014. Holy cow, I had no clue hard trance of this sort was even being made for that long with any consistency! Yeah, it actually wasn’t, Tunnel Trance Force succumbing to the ‘big room’ anthem house schlock so many trance companies tried adapting into their repertoire to stay relevant. Seems such bandwagon hopping was met with incredible ‘resistance’ though, dedicated followers none too pleased, effectively ending Tunnel Trance Force with indignant shame. I LOL’d.

Michael Mayer - Touch

Kompakt: 2004

One of the co-founders of Kompakt? You bet Michael Mayer is a Very Important Person in the world in techno! Maybe not quite as important as fellow Kompakt’re Wolfgang Voigt, who’s the Most Important German Techno Person of all history, should you ask certain sorts out there in internet music journalism land. Still, as the label wingman, Mr. Mayer’s earned himself plenty of positive buzz as well. Though he’s by no means as prolific a producer as Wolfgang was, as the century turned he had a tidy career as a microhouse DJ, even getting in on that early fabric mix CD action. Even with his own label, however, Michael’s output was intermediate at best, reportedly a fussy producer never satisfied with his results long enough to commit to disc.

Someone must have lit that bug up his bum regarding making music though, a debut album in the form of Touch finally hitting shelves in the late of 2004. And not a moment too soon, the gospel of Kompakt finally drifting out of its Cologne, Germany base into a wider world of success and scorns (more the former). This was about when The Orb joined Kompakt after all, and nothing gets a music scene buzzing like a veteran joining an upstart label. Probably didn’t hurt a lot of cool techno people had moved to Berlin by this point too. Thus, with all eyes on German labels and whatever hot records they were kicking out, The Mayer’d One was in prime position to reap the critical plaudits from electronic music reviewers abroad. Except Resident Advisor; they instead covered Armin van Buuren’s latest Universal Religion that month.

As an album, Touch is an unfussy collection of tracks. It opens with a rather trancey titular cut, the sort of tune that helped start that nebulous neo-trance micro-genre of the next few years. It even has a breakdown and build with swelling pads, piano chords, and off-beat acid bass. It's such a throwback of early German trance that I’m astounded more folks didn’t write-off the minimal tech-house darling right then and there. Still, it’s not like Kompakt was ever shy about getting in touch with their unabashed melodic side.

The rest of the album plays more to the style you’d expect of mid-‘00s German tech-haus. Privat provides a slow, simmering groove with funky guitar licks and pads in support. Heiden goes heavier with its techno-thump, while Neue Luthersche Frakfur gets in on that trendy electro-house acid-fart action for a bit before indulging some escalating-sound action. Mid-track Slowfood runs for ten-plus minutes, and is clearly Mr. Mayer’s big artiste moment on the album, with meandering funk rhythms, bleepy ambient techno interludes, and cinematic crescendos. Bit much for my taste – give me the simplistic noir groove of Lovefood any day!

A couple functional tech-haus tracks close Touch out, but by no means come off dated. Even a decade on, Mayer’s debut holds up just fine. Something to be said for keeping things simple, eh?

Bedouin Soundclash - Sounding A Mosaic

SideOneDummy Records: 2004

Yet another CD of which I knew nothing going in to. With a name of Bedouin Soundclash though, plus song titles like Gyasi Went Home, Music My Rock, Rude Boy Don’t Cry, and Immigrant Workforce, odds were ninety-seven percent I was dealing with reggae music of some form. And with the opening, jaunty refrains of When The Night Feels My Song confirming my assumption, I sat back to vibe on an album of sunny jimmy-jams. Yet as Sounding A Mosaic played out, something felt just a tad off. With a sparse arrangement consisting of little more than bass, guitar, and drums, it was clear Bedouin Soundclash wasn’t a traditional full-ensemble reggae band. More so, there was an undeniable ‘coddiness’ about these tunes. The music, the cadence, and the groove of vintage reggae were all there; but, y’know, kinda’ white at the same time.

Turns out Bedouin Soundclash hails from Kingston… Ontario. At this stage of the band’s career, it consisted of drummer Pat Pengelly, bassist Eon Sinclair, and singer-guitarist Jay Malinowski. Yeah, Malinowski’s about as white a name you can get, so my assumption wasn’t off-base. By no means does this detract from what this band does – plenty of great reggae music’s been made by folks that have little-to-no ancestry from the Isle Of Jamaican. There’s The Police, and… uh… all those dub reggae guys I go on about. And… um… Pst, former college kids who wore dreadlocks, help me out here.

I joke and kid, of course, Bedouin Soundclash having a decent amount of success to their name. Starting out in the ancient times of the year 2001 (look, its ancient now, deal with it), they self released their debut Root Fire to little fanfare. A couple years later they came out with this album, Sounding A Mosaic, which did substantially better, thanks to the strength of lead single When The Night Feels My Song. The tune landed them a Top 5 hit on the Canadian charts, and inexplicably a spot on the UK charts – then again, them British do love ‘em some ‘cod’. This momentum was enough to generate Platinum-level sales for the album in Canada, and while their follow-up album Street Gospels didn’t sell quite a well, it still peaked at number two on our music charts, and good enough for a Top 5 spot on the US Reggae charts. And having now learned of all their success, I feel kind of dumb for never hearing of Bedouin Soundclash before. Did I just not care about reggae a decade ago?

Not particularly, no, especially of this sort. There’s plenty tunes on here that are perfectly fine pieces of three-man reggae, though obviously nothing of the caliber I got from The Police. It’s the sort of music that’s fun to check out at a summer festival, preferably at a 2pm slot when you’re feeling nicely toasted. Aside from a couple remixes at the end though, Sounding A Mosaic is about as conventional as this music gets.

Various - Garden State (Music From The Motion Picture)

Epic: 2004

I don’t know anything about this movie. I think I recall the title from somewhere, but no details about Garden State sparks the recollection synapses. Who the stars were, the director was, the plot, not even the year it was released. Just based on the tracklist, I assume it came out early 2000s, what with names like Coldplay, Zero 7, and Thievery Corporation included. The cover has me thinking it’s about a group of young adults doing something quirky in the hopes of giving their meaningless lives meaning. Or maybe they’re trying to take a stand against the man in a Surrey New Jersey park? Guessing the former though – seems to be a running theme with all these soundtracks lately.

I could pop over to Deity IMDB for a little knowledge-drop regarding Garden State, but where’s the fun in that? It’d only lead to another bog-standard soundtrack review: giving a plot synopsis, what I think of it, and hastily going over the actual music before self-imposed word count runs out. Nah, how about I instead give the CD a once-over, make an assumed guess of what Garden State’s about, then see if Deity IMDB proves how accurate I was. Yeah, let’s do that.

Coldplay’s Don’t Panic opens things up. I wouldn’t say this is Coldplay at their Coldplayiest, because that’s just a lazy, cliché way of describing a Coldplay song, no matter how apt. Two tracks from The Shins crop up early, who I do remember being rather big on the indie scene; wouldn’t surprise me if this movie helped. A whole lot of ultra-soft rock and Americana folk make their way in, including Nick Drake’s One Of These Things First, which I remember most for a commercial (I think?). Whoa, Colin Hay, the lead singer Men At Work, had a solo career too? I’ll be darned. Simon & Garfunkel are also here, absolutely, always a solid option for a ‘coming of age’ movie. All these sensitive acoustic musicians make Thievery Corporation’s Lebanese Blonde stand out like an ethnic-flavored thumb, and I’ve no idea how it fits within this movie’s context. Most of these songs have me picturing the cast laying about cuddling on couches, looking out rainy windows, strolling through saturated neighborhoods, and involving themselves in deep, philosophical questions about what it means to be a young adult in the new millennium. Works for Zero 7 and Frou Frou (re: Imogen Heap), but the Thievery Corps.?

Anyhow, let’s see what Garden State’s really about. *clickity-clickity-clack* Ah, hmm, it’s a Zach Braff vehicle (aka: that guy from Scrubs). Wow, passion project, more like. I wasn’t too far off in my plot assumptions either; also is a movie where the Manic Pixie Dream Girl trope got its legs. No wonder the music felt chipper, yet also a tad mopey and insufferable. Natalie Portman’s in this, as is Ian Holm and… Method Man?? Wait, you got yourself a Wu-Tang member, and didn’t have any Wu joints in your score? Poor form, Zach.

Phutureprimitive - Sub Conscious (Original TC Review)

Waveform Records: 2004

(2015 Update:
I get it. Really, I do. It's not as drastic a change as some made it out. The music on here, with all those rubbery time-signatures, it has kindred spirit with wobbly basslines and all that. Plus, it's not like Rain couldn't help himself, what with having roots in the Pacific Northwest, where the likes of Excision's Rottun Recordings have come to dominate the festival circuit Phutureprimitive toured about on. Maybe he heard plenty enough from those big stages all the younger bassheads were congregating at, where he could get a piece of that lucrative pie. Or maybe throw a few shockers in the face of die-hard psy dub hippies. Ain't nothing wrong with that. Still... dubstep? Really, dubstep!?

This review does a very poor job detailing just how unique sounding Sub Conscious is, especially since no one's repeated what's one here - difficult detailing music without other frames of reference, after all. That includes Rain himself, most of his latest offerings content recycling sounds found in every main stage dub/brostep act. We thought he'd return to this style some day, but seeing as how he's almost gone full-Skrillex now, we'll just have to settle for this one excellent album of a bygone era instead.)


IN BRIEF: Music of the future and past.

Well, it’s been a while since we dipped into these waters, eh? Shpongle’s swan song from two summers ago [2015 Edit: LOL, ‘swan song’] was the last time we reviewed anything in the warm, bubbly realms of psychedelic dub music, which is a shame given just how wonderfully diverse this music can be. Unfortunately, with so many styles of electronic music demanding our attention, fringy forms tend to get overlooked in the process.

However, I wouldn’t deem psy dub as fringe as, say, drone ambient. In fact, this form of chill music has settled into a nice little niche. Filling in for the lengthy noodly ambient productions the likes of The Orb and The Irresistible Force used to make, this is the music often heard at underground and outdoor parties attended by raving refugees. It doesn’t have the accessibility of MOR chill fodder, but nor is it so impenetrable that it’ll chase away the curious.

Hailing from America’s Northwest, the man simply known as Rain has been a part of this scene for over a decade, although kept a relatively low profile. Toiling away in his own studio, he eventually emerged with this album: Sub Conscious. Here, under the pseudonym Phutureprimitive, we find a fusion of downtempo vibes common in many underground scenes. Ethnic soundscapes, psychedelic synths, and dubby atmospherics are all melded, with neither attribute dominating the direction of a song.

While you won’t find any specific leads, Rain’s music doesn’t dawdle on go-nowhere tangents either. Rather, minor melodies and drum patterns flow from segment to segment within a track itself, maintaining an overlying theme throughout. And although the general tone of Sub Conscious tends to remain dark, tribal, and melancholic, it isn’t without its bright spots as well.

Probably the most intriguing aspect of Rain’s productions is his time-signatures. I’m no expert on this subject, but I can definitely tell when a song seems ‘off’ when compared to traditional 4/4 rhythms. And most of what you hear on Sub Conscious contains such moments where you’ll mutter to yourself, “Now that’s kind of odd.” It’s one of those nifty little subtle things that causes you to take notice of what’s actually going on in a song rather than just hang back waiting for a catchy melody or calming pad to emerge. And while these tracks aren’t super-dense so there’s a million-and-one things to discover with dutiful attention, there certainly are plenty of interesting bits to chew on during the course of a song’s playing time.

With the general information out of the way, how’s about some particulars then? That, I’m afraid, can be a bit tricky in this case.

As mentioned, the songs on this album aren’t conventional. Opener Rites Of Passage is as clear an indication of the sorts of arrangements you’ll mostly encounter. Groovy rhythms start out, sounding neither strictly organic nor synthetic, with subtle, similar effects floating in the background. Eventually, a simple, dark sweeping synth gives us our first clear melody, with additional ones bubbling in the background. Then, we move onto some tribal chants; then, a stuttery synth; then, a new stuttery synth, this time building in prominence; then, a different rhythmic section (including a different time-signature, if you’re keeping tabs on minute details like that); then, new chants; finally, orchestral swells. All the while, previous elements bubble up, maintaining a cohesive theme throughout. Skillfully, each new section feels like a proper transition from prior ones, and never sounds like self-indulgence or useless attention-grabbers. And none of these various sounds, synths and effects outshine the other, each of them finely tuned to harmonize on the same wavelength as the next.

Like this opener, many of these songs progress naturally rather than take unnecessary tangents, usually starting from a few basic ideas, then gradually building upon them to a logical conclusion. If this sounds too structured, trust me it does not come across this way, again thanks to Rain’s use of time-signatures. It lends itself an unpredictable atmosphere to the proceedings, and should the opening rhythms and minor melodies snare you, you’ll stick with it to see where the song will lead next.

Rites Of Passage throws most of Rain’s sonic ideas together; the rest of the tracks tend to stick to more singular themes while maintaining his eclectic production. Darkness and Elysium rely mostly on ethereal textures, including flowing female voices rather than tribal chants (all original, no sampling). Follow-up Ritual goes darker, conjuring up ancient tribal temple gatherings in Latin America. (Note: I could complain about some of these titles, as they are annoyingly cliché, but that’s not terribly important)

Adding some variety to these ethno-psy-dub proceedings is Spanish Fly, making use of flamenco guitars and percussion. Additionally, the song completely changes pace mid-way through, settling into a much slower rhythm than at the start. At first I thought it was just a breakdown of sorts, but was quite surprised to hear it to the end.

The rest of the album thematically carries on in similar fashion as the first half, with the eclecticism between tracks always fresh and never overcooked. At times the percussion gets more tribal (especially in Drifting) but will be naturally followed up with easy-going dubbed-out grooves (especially in Submerge). In one of the few instances of predictability on Sub Conscious, closer Dissolve is a straight ambient track, although still contains Rain’s intriguing style on it.

So, does all this talk of diverse arrangements and nifty sound collages and somber melodies make you want to rush out and buy this release? If no, I can guess why: you’re wondering where all the catchy hooks are.

Frankly, as with many forms of psy-dub, catchy bits aren’t the focus. Despite some really good minor melodies, there aren’t any that repeat long enough to get firmly stuck in your head, much less be humming later in the day. Add to the fact 4/4 rhythms are nonexistent and you have an album a casual listener is going to have trouble getting into. Rain’s production may be clear and concise, but it is still unconventional, especially in electronic music circles.

However, if what you desire in your music is uniqueness and deep engagement, then Sub Conscious should be on your Wantlist. Even if the idea of ‘ethno-psy-dub’ strikes you as bizarre, the music on this release will satisfy nonetheless.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2006. All rights reserved.

Armin van Buuren - A State Of Trance 2004 (2015 Update)

Ultra Records: 2004

(Click here to read my early rambly, rubbish writings.)

Hello, Armin, my old friend. Seems I must talk about you again. Not that I haven't mentioned you when discussing so many things trance - the highs, the lows, and the epic, uplifting in-betweens. Long ago though, I decided it wasn't worth my effort to “get” your music, as the Armin fanclub is wont to say. I suspected it even this far back, when you technically could do no wrong. You were still the scrappy upstart to the euro trance throne, the almighty Tiësto still King and Tyrant, with Corsten remaining the Duke of Dutchiness. Everyone likes an underdog, a talent on the rise, a hustler willing to make his vision come into being. The vision is to be Overlord of all things trancetastic, right?

Unfortunately, Armin's time at the top only eroded a once vibrant scene. It wasn’t entirely his fault, as all scenes must recede, tastes and trends waning as new ones emerge and take the spotlight. Trance though, in its desperation to remain the most popular gateway genre (and thus the most profitable!), hilariously jumped on many a bandwagon with ever increasing cringe-worthy results; Armin was no less guilty a shepherd during this time. There's been a minor return to trance's older strengths, but the scene's had to accept its losses in doing so, becoming purist and niche. That's great if you're willing to play for humble audiences and cultivate a savvy following, but Armin's brand has grown too bloated to take that much of a step back.

I'm astounded his long-suffering fans keep holding out hope he'll return to the sort of sound he played back on this DJ mix. Instead, he dangles them along, throwing an occasional vintage cut their way like so much scrap meat, continuously proclaiming he’s still playing trance, but constantly barraging them with trite dance pop and obnoxious stadium house in his efforts to reach a broad EDM audience. With Solarstone providing the full course meal these days, I must wonder why they settle for substandard product? Armin doesn’t deserve that much unrequited loyalty; no musician does.

Still, listening back to A State Of Trance 2004, it’s understandable how that devotion blossomed. There’s a lot of quality trance on here, much of it holding up remarkably well a decade on. A few problems do persist - Future Funland and Satellite remain pants, Sahara’s still corny, and the end of CD2 hasn’t a clue of where it’s going – but beat for pound, I enjoyed this more than I did before. Heck, some tunes, like Super 8’s Alba and Mono’s Rise, I’d totally forgotten about, and found myself vibing off them like they were fresh, new cuts.

Then again, maybe I'm biased to this era of trance than anything recent, these tunes closer in spirit to the Oakenfold Years than whatever it is we get these days. Yes, this is me saying the Oakenfold Years had some merit – even Armin believed so in his liner notes. Shame he all but ignores that now.

Tau Ceti - Somnium

Umbra: 2004

Tau Ceti is a star that shares spectral characteristics with the sun, and is one of the closest to our solar system. Though slightly smaller in mass, the fact it's a single-star system has tantalized many a speculative fiction author into suggesting Earth-like worlds exist there. These worlds may serve as outposts for a human race on the cusp of galaxy exploration, or they may even have life of their own. Come to think of it, Spock's home world is located in the Tau Ceti system! What's cool is astronomers have recently detected planets about Tau Ceti, though as the system is apparently clogged with debris, it’s not the most hospitable locale as we know it. Where is though, in the cosmos? Where can we as a species venture that isn't out to deep freeze us, suck us into oblivion, or shred our DNA with impossibly small, radiated projectiles? I mean, if Tau Ceti is one of the better nearby options, what would hangin' out near Sirius be like? Seriously dangerous, I don't doubt!

All of this has nothing to do with Tau Ceti, the producer, one Enrico Cosimi to the Italian Information Bureau. Okay, maybe he was inspired by the T.C. system as depicted in sci-fi stories, but far as I can tell, it's simply an alias plucked for how cool sounding it is. I’m honestly surprised it hadn’t been taken by a one-off techno or trance producer (though Lord Discogs notes a hopelessly obscure ‘80s goth band). There is a light space theme with Mr. Cosimi’s music, other releases coming with names like Frozen Planet, Pulsar, and Borealis, but that’s about par for the course when it comes to drone ambient of this sort.

Yep, once again, we’re in the realm of super-long single track albums, this time taking in something from the Umbra print, an Italian ambient label set up by the late Oöphoi. In fact, Tau Ceti often collaborated with Oöphoi, while also participating in a ‘super-group’ of sorts called Nebula that included Klaus Wiese, Mauro Malgrande, and Lorenzo Pierobon. Any ambient follower should have heard a couple of these names, most emerging in the ‘90s following in the footsteps of Steven Roach and (namedrop, namedrop, etc.), carving out a significant slice of history’s droning ambient pie. Flooding the market with limited run CDrs will do that for a label.

Somnium was part of one such flooding on Tau Ceti’s part, when he released around a half-dozen LPs in 2004 (he’d go the ‘shorter’ single track EP route after). Don’t let the cover art fool you into thinking this is some angelic New Age meditation outing, Somnium quite dark in its droning ways. Essentially four parts, the first focuses on minimalist vibrations, then morphs into a quiet, slow drone oscillation. Some forty minutes deep, it abruptly changes into layered droning timbres, then proceeds with the obligatory long fade-out. Not much going on in all then, but at least there’s some sense of progression throughout.

Brian Wilson - Smile

Nonesuch: 2004

Smile was meant to be Brian Wilson's magnum opus, a career defining album that would elevate Americana songcraft above anything those UK invasion bands offered. He had the creative drive, the resources (studio equipment access, peerless harmony group in The Beach Boys), and the benchmark to top with Pet Sounds. Unfortunately, he didn't have a Paul, John, or even Keith on his side, and when The Beatles came out with Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, poor ol' Brian realized he couldn’t top that ridiculously successful album. Despite having blueprints laid out, and even recording a few would-be singles that would feature in Smile, his efforts seemed so easily trumped by the Liverpool Four, it was more than he could take. Nervous breakdown beckoned, much of Smile abandoned, and one of rock music's most famous non-albums entered the realm of tantalizing “what if?” discourse.

And so it looked to remain as such, B. Wilson's mental acuity taking years upon decades to find its way out of grim-dark murk. Perseverance paid off though, eventually finding it within himself to write new music without the crushing pressure of critical and commercial success. Good thing too, because much of his output during the ‘90s wasn’t overly memorable. Old time fans supported him, but folks suspected his creative spark that propelled The Beach Boys to the top of the pop charts had long since faded. Just as well, Wilson truly no longer made for those ‘90s times anyway.

Then out of the blue, Brian announced that he’d finish his super Smile project after all, as it was intended way back in the ‘60s. Well shit, son (dad?), that’s awesome. Is there really any interest left for this album though? It’s a new century, a new millennium, and most ultra-fans of The Beach Boys had already pieced together finished songs and studio scraps for their own Smile bootlegs. Hell, Brian’s voice had considerably aged, and good luck getting the remaining actual Beach Boys into the studio after the bitter estrangement all those years had festered between the two parties.

All those concerns were for naught, the finished Smile a wonderful, amazing album from front to back. Essentially three parts, the first captures the nostalgic memories of carefree, youthful summers, especially while vacationing in touristy American locales, with Heroes And Villains the main attraction here. The second part goes more wistful and reflective, the big song off here being dreamy Surf’s Up. And the final part gets goofy and experimental; some pieces mere snippets of sound effects before changing gears to something else. Like, hot damn, that transition from the fire-storm of Mrs. O’Leary’s Cow into the desolate In Blue Hawaii! Then to cap the whole experience off with the mighty Good Vibrations, you can’t help but want to stand and cheer for Brian Wilson, for seeing his vision come into being, triumphant in all the adversity he’d faced. Plus, y’know, there’s just a ton of great music all throughout Smile too.

Faithless - No Roots

Arista: 2004

Faithless had to know they needed a shakeup. The various members weren't feeling the synergy quite so strong as the years wore on, other pet projects taking their time away from being one of the biggest bands in the UK (huh, that sounds familiar). They had enough built-in good will with their fans that stretching their musical ability wouldn't alienate many anyway, so why not try something different while the opportunity was there? It's not like it'd abruptly end the group. Haha... eh, well...

Still, No Roots was popular enough, earning Faithless their first number one album on the UK charts. It’s mind-boggling that they never accomplished it with any previous LP. You’d think at least Sunday 8PM or even Outrospective would have climbed that high since those had much bigger singles in their favour (the group was still too ‘underground’ in their Reverence years). Generally speaking, Outrospective did have better success abroad, but most of the world had moved on from Faithless by 2004, whereas their native land still had much love for them (for a couple more years anyway).

No Roots may not have garnered the same mass appeal as their previous albums, but I wager this is Faithless’ best album-album after Sunday 8PM. Though the group dared to blend genres few others would in their previous LPs, their old formula was getting all too predictable. Here’s the trip-hop conscious track with Maxi Jazz. Here’s the Big Obvious Club Anthem. Here’s the world-weary folksy singer song. Here’s the Dido guest spot. Here’s the other Big Obvious Club Anthem. Here’s the other trip-hop conscious track with Maxi Jazz. Here’s the quirky track. Here’s the blissy instrumental. Hey, it was a very effective way to arrange an album, but doing the same thing three times in a row seems self-defeating for a group known for their dynamic musical abilities.

No Roots opts for a different, erm, route. You still have the same markers, but they’re blended into the flow of the album far more effectively. Heck, the entire record flows wonderfully between tracks, making the whole thing come off like one long song. Example: after the rousing build of I Want More (the first of the Big Club Anthem on here, though not as Obvious as prior hits), the drop into chipper, jazz-hoppy Love Lives On My Street is hardly forced, sounding as natural a follow-up as anything could. Another significant change to No Roots is the inclusion of LSK, providing an urban R&B croon in contrast to the khaki-clad style prior guest singers had (Jamie Catto, Boy George).

Elsewhere on the album, you get deep house (Sweep, Miss U Less, See U More), classy clubbier stuff (What About Love), acid ambient (Pastoral), and a little rock action too (Swingers) among the dependable trip-hop tracks. Plenty of reprisals throughout too, adding to the sense No Roots was designed with a full play-through in mind. Listen to a Faithless album in full? *gasp* No skipping to the hits for you, pal.

The Hacker - Reves Mecaniques

[PIAS] Recordings: 2004

Michel Amato already had a tidy techno career going for him before pairing up with Caroline Herve. He even released a debut LP way back in 1999 under his Hacker guise, Mélodies En Sous-Sol, though the buzz surrounding his early singles with Miss Kittin overshadowed it. Heck, bring up anything Hacker related, and it’s nigh impossible wondering what his partnerette in sexy detached synth-pop crimes is doing. Off being her own superstar and hanging out with her own famous friends probably, but she and Monsieur Amato have continued pairing up every so often. Oh man, I still gotta’ hear Second Album proper-like too.

As The Hacker was one of electroclash’s foremost tastemakers, another solo outing from him hitting the shelves was guaranteed. Unfortunately for him though, by the time Reves Mecaniques came out, that scene had already collapsed, journalists and electro-indie types looking for the next big nothing they could latch onto. Just as well, then, that ol’ Michel stuck to the sound that earned him critical praise in the first place: uncompromising electro and brutal, minimalist techno.

Yeah, if anyone was expecting a euro synth-poppy retread of First Album, they were in for a shock. The Hacker’s style’s long been finding ways of taking chintzy ‘80s sounds and giving them an aggressive, gritty edge. It’s as though the gear he uses was found in a Berlin back alley, abandoned and near ruin from rain and neglect. Not for Amato though, as he takes that shit home and fixes it from disrepair into something capable of music making. Why, you might even say he… “hacked” his way into it! Eh? Eh? Man, was that ever a ‘hacky’ pun.

Of course, the first question everyone asked upon clicking this review is “Does Miss Kittin show up?” Yep, on track number three, Masterplan, and it sounds as vintage Kitt’n’Hack as you’d expect, like a pair of actors slipping into familiar roles. Not to be outdone though, Amato brings in Perspects (Ian Clarke) and Mount Sims (another Matthew) for a pair of tunes in Flesh & Bone and Traces. I dunno’ so much about Clarke’s offering, in that he sounds too electroclashy, (no, I can’t explain that – you just know it when you hear it), but Sims’ croon works wonderfully with Hacker’s bleak electro.

The rest of Reves Mecaniques finds Amato going about his usual techno business. Sometimes he leans more electro (It’s The Mind, Sequenced Life, where he totally apes Kraftwerk, because yes he would shut up), and other times he goes more downtempo (Electronic Snowflakes, Sleeping Machines). He’s at his best, though, unleashing aggressive, feral synths (Village Of The Damned, Radiation), and especially so with an acid techno workout on The Brutalist. Nothing fancy about these cuts, folks, aiming straight for your rave jugular.

All said, this album is something of a precursor to the ‘maximal’ strain of techno many French producers adopted in the late ‘00s. If you’ve a hankering for that sound, then The Hacker’s sophomore effort’s for you.

Various - In Trance We Trust 009: DJ Mark Norman

In Trance We Trust: 2004

The boys that built Black Hole Recordings and all their various offshoots were growing up, starting their first tentative steps as successful stars outside the safe embrace of familiar family. Erm, only one was successful, but then Mr. Verwest’s always been a driven individual, capable of taking root anywhere he so chose. Not so much the others though, but as the likes of Fijneman and Helsloot had drifted from the In Trance We Trust print, it was time for a new generation to take up the mantle (though after veteran Ton T.B. gets his kick at the can, ‘natch). Fresh blood, rising stars, innovative outlo- AHAHAHA! Oh, that last one’s rich. All the latest crop of producers did was recycle the old tricks and put a fresh coat of paint on it, but hey, it’s not like kids discovering trance for the first time knew any better.

Whatever. I have to talk about Mark Norman, one of these supposed new stars of the future. He – or rather still they (Mark de Jong left the duo a few years back) had already released a few singles on the short-lived label Silver Premium, finding a new home with Magik Muzik when that one folded, and have remained within the Black Hole Recordings family to this day. Norman Lenden only releases sporadic singles now, but for a short while in the mid-‘00s, the Mark Norman brand was a hot product emerging in euro-trance’s re-shuffling of movers and shakers, a force for the harder side of the scene that wouldn't follow turncoat trends like hardstyle or electro house. And then he did when festival paydays became the norm. So it goes.

In Trance We Trust 009’s another mix that surprised me, and not just because I got the proper CD this time. I’m already familiar with Mark Norman’s style of music from his (their) productions, and given the annoyingly repetitive era of eurotrance this was released, was expecting something similar to Helsloot’s last mix or even Phynn’s set for ITWT011 - some good tunes, but mostly tedium and another fuckton of breakdowns.

And while that’s kinda’ holds true for ITWT009, there’s far more consistent energy in Mark Norman’s chosen weapons of rinse-out. This set goes for the hard anthemage from the opening, and doesn’t let the pedal off until the laser leaves the aluminum. Okay, I can vibe to this, absolutely. Even the breakdowns seldom kill the set’s momentum, and the only outright cheese moment is the obligatory Tiësto promotion, Love Comes Again. Gotta’ pay respects to the label’s Godfather.

Today’s guest review spot was supposed to be Sakura, but she’s late as usual. Mm, who else hasn’t had reviewed one of these yet? Hey, Birdie, what do you think of Mark Norman’s In Trance We Trust mix?

Birdie: Prefer some UK garage ‘n’ grime m’self, mate.






Wait, didn’t you die before either of- *oof!*


Sakura: Sorry, sorry I’m late! I thought I saw Ryu on the way, and…

Ghostface - The Pretty Toney Album

Def Jam Recordings: 2004

This is the exact moment when Ghostface Killah surpassed any need of Wu-Tang association as a hip-hop talent. Following The Pretty Toney Album, it was clear Mr. Coles was on a totally different level as a solo MC compared to his Clan fam’, and could carry on a successful career without them should he so choose - yep, Wu-Tang breakup rumours were rampant at this time. Fueling that gossipy narrative was the fact nary a Clan member nor their second and third tier MCs have guest verses on this album, a first for any of the group's solo LPs (RZA and True Master did contribute a couple productions though). It led to ridiculous amounts of speculation over whether there was beef between Ghost and Wu-Tang, which he immediately quashes with an opening mock interview skit, but it'd be a few years before it finally simmered away.

There was another factor to all the talk, however; with The Pretty Toney Album, Ghostface was the only Clan member to have a standout solo album up to that point in the new millennium (though Masta Killa's debut wasn't too far ahead). Granted, hindsight's shown that LPs from GZA, Inspectah Deck, and so on weren't awful, but it seemed no one else was maintaining the creative fire that propelled Wu-Tang through the '90s like he was. Def Jam must have believed as much, signing him once his deal with Epic passed, all but cementing his status among the upper hip-hop echelon. Good thing Mr. Coles gave them solid albums and confirming their support was justified, unlike some other Wu members (sorry, Meth').

As The Pretty Toney Album was his debut on Def Jam, the album comes off like a showcase for Ghostface’s various styles of MCing. Okay, he tends to have only one style, a near-breathless stream of conscious attack filled with hyperbole and slang, but his preferred topics range from street tales, near pornographic come-ons, or persona acting. Most of his albums find him sticking to one, but not here. We get various crime sagas with Biscuits, Run (along with Jadakiss), and It’s Over, while relationship shit goes down in Save Me Dear, Tooken Back, and Push (with Missy Elliot at the summit of her powers). A few other topics are scattered about, like Ghost simply spitting fire over lesser MCs (Ghostface, Beat The Clock), plus his obligatory softy song in Love. I can’t say all of these are Tony Starks at his absolute best, but it’s a great primer if you were just getting into his music (a decade late, somehow).

And the beats? Man, you better love them old funk and soul jams, because Ghostface loves them so much, he barely alters his samples at all. At least a third of these tracks is just him rapping over the original songs from the ‘60s and ‘70s, a few tweaks and edits the only noticeable difference, though I honestly don’t know for sure. My knowledge of the soul classics is the bunk.

Masta Killa - No Said Date

Nature Sounds: 2004

The '00s weren't nearly as musically bad of a decade for the Wu-Tang Clan as most remember. During those years though, you'd be forgiven thinking otherwise – good albums are fine, but most expected instant classics nearly every release. That said, a few such exceptional LPs found their way onto store shelves that decade, one of which took everyone by surprise: Masta Killa's debut album, No Said Date. Yes, the final official Clan member, who only got one verse out of the entirety of the Very Important Wu-Tang Album Enter The 36 Chambers, and who fans of the group seldom name-dropped as their favourite member, knocked it out of the ball-park on his first try.

At a time when speculation of an inevitable breakup of the group was rampant, seeing the whole Wu-fam’ on a single LP was a strong selling point for No Said Date (not to mention extended members Streetlife, Killah Priest, and Prodigal Sunn along for the show). RZA behind the producer’s chair for a number of tracks, plus his studio disciples Mathematics and True Master contributing too, helped complete the ‘vintage Wu-Tang Clan’ feel of this album. Folks had been waiting for half that decade for it, and was delivered by the least likely chap.

What works in No Said Date’s favour is fully acknowledging Mr. Turner’s role within the Clan, the final puzzle-piece of the RZA’s initial Grand Plan. Mr. Diggs, numerological nut that he is, felt it necessary to have nine proper ‘monks’ within Wu-Tang, some of whom he’d have to tutelage, guiding them to discover their inherent rap talents. Masta Killa was essentially the rookie, and definitely took some time to develop a strong persona. It’s a testament to Noodles’ dedication to the lyrical craft that he didn’t rush releasing a solo album, only putting himself out there when he felt totally confident in his skills. It was worth the wait, Mister Masta sounding as much a seasoned veteran on No Said Date as any of his fellow Clansmen that show up here. And show-up they all do indeed.

Want some throwback funk with ODB warbling? Old Man’s got you covered. Street tales from Raekwon and Ghostface? D.T.D.’s your cut. Reflections of the inner city life as only told by Inspectah Deck and GZA? Get your ears on Silverbacks. Confounding production as done by RZA? Oh hi, School. And don’t figure Masta Killa’s simply along for the lyrical ride on these tracks either - his verses are just as vital and distinct as those from his Clan-fam’.

Noodles shines though, on two tracks: Digi Warfare and Masta Killa. The former’s an awesome electro throwback, brought to the modern era with excellent sonic chops from long time New York house producer Choco. The latter, final track, in making use of Far-East harmonies and Bruce Lee’s classic “be like water” speech, serves as a strong summation of Masta Killa’s career; a justified, celebratory moment for a man who proved patience is one of music’s finest virtues.

Prince - Musicology

Columbia: 2004

The music scene Prince had flourished within at his commercial peak was no longer recognizable, tons of young upstarts feeding the crowds with watered-down funk and drunk-dumb crowd pleasers. There was no soul in music anymore, no respect for the masters who’d laid the groundwork. Time to take the music back to its source, then - back to the old school that inspired him, with little to none of the modern trappings that plague contemporary music. And to kick off this initiative would be an advertising campaign unlike any other before, including an instantly catchy lead single paired with a perfectly charming video. Unfortunately, once the full album dropped, folks quickly realized all the media hype was just that, and were left with a disappointing product that could never have lived up to its build-up. Oh well, at least Daft Punk still earned a Grammy for the album. Wait a minute…

Yes, in an uncanny coincidence, the stories behind Prince’s Musicology and Daft Punk’s Random Access Memory are remarkably similar, although I suspect Daft Punk’s version will be talked about longer than Prince’s. When Mr. Nelson came out with Musicology, it was the first time in years the general music media showed interest in him again. Part of it likely was due to his induction into the Rock 'N Roll Hall Of Fame that same year; or maybe it was the fact his old label disputes throughout the '90s was finally subsiding, thus allowing Mr. Nelson to retain his famous performance name, and not some wonky symbol. It sure makes it easier for journalists to proclaim “Prince Is Back!”, even though he never really went away. Additionally, Musicology was a return to a major label for distribution, in this case Columbia. With everything pointing to a triumphant narrative, this album was destined to re-establish Prince as the preeminent tastemaker of all things funky and soulful, at a time when music critics so desperately wanted it so.

Yet within a year, Musicology was a distant memory, folks more intrigued by Prince’s growing free-distribution marketing instead. This, from an album that earned Mr. Nelson his first Grammys (two of them, even!) since the ‘80s. Not that those awards are worth much credibility anyway, but the point is for a collection of music that everyone pegged as an instant classic, folks instead instantly forgot about it.

Can’t say I blame them either. Hell, I bought into the hype, and aside from the titular cut, Illusion, Coma, Pimp, & Circumstance (kinda hip-hoppy), Cinnamon Girl (not a Neil Young cover), and The Marrying Kind (power chords!), I can never remember anything off here. There’s funk, there’s soul, there’s Prince, but where’s the ingenuity, the earworms, or the thrilling songcraft? In making an album that’s an ode to the music of his upbringing, he neglected to make it uniquely his. Anyone versed in classic R&B could write these tunes. With little on Musicology standing out from funk ‘n soul standards, the album quickly disappeared from public discourse.

Markus Schulz - Coldharbour Sessions 2004

Armada Music: 2004

An ear turning cynical isn’t difficult upon realizing the Grand Armada Marketing Plan. By 2004, Armin was pushing his brand from internet darling to global domination, but he’s a savvy one, that van Buuren. He couldn’t corner every potential market with just his own, preferred style of epic, uplifting trance. Why, some folks actually considered it cheesy, unserious music! They wanted something deeper, of more substance and nuanced; groovy like progressive house, but not the dark, minimalist tribal stuff Digweed and his brethren were pushing as the ‘nu-prog’. Fortunately for Armin, there was a chap who had no problem promoting a style of prog that could act as that branch, offering deeper rhythms folks with ‘matured’ tastes craved, but retaining enough melodic hookiness such that they need not wander into the untested waters of tech-house. That man was Peter Martin, also known as Anthanasia.

Okay, it’s really Markus Schulz, but damn, Perfect Wave shows up again on this Coldharbour Sessions mix, possibly making it the biggest McProg anthem of all time – the genre’s Age Of Love, so to speak. Well, maybe not.

Anyhow, this was Mr. Schulz’ proper opening statement with his new direction of sound, after remaining stuck in the underground years prior. Following this DJ mix, he’d establish his own Coldharbour Recordings (an offshoot of Armada, naturally), cultivating his accessible form of prog, thus winning him a legion of cultish fans to this day; the Grand Armada Marketing Plan unfolds. Alright, enough cynicism from me, as I must admit I didn’t pick this up for another one of my retrospective projects. Nay, I bought it because, um... I’m kinda growing fond of this sound.

I wasn’t against it back in the day, but all the related aggressive promotion caused a dismissive knee-jerk reaction from me. A decade later though, no one’s promoting this sound anymore, so it’s easier taking the music on its own merits. And yes, all the criticisms one can levy against McProg are here, although as we’re in the genre’s infancy, very little comes off too cliché. The low, grumbly basslines are ever present (especially in any of Schulz’ Coldharbour Remixes), occasionally some sap seeps in (almost always whenever a vocal comes about ...fuck Satellite, no matter the remix), and ol’ Markus nearly succumbs to ‘breakdown overload’ with the opening of Disc 2; beyond that, however, there’s little I can find fault with on Coldharbour Sessions 2004 within its own merits.

Heck, a couple tunes even bring late-‘90s prog-house to light (Junk Science’s Jataka, Luke Chabel’s remix of Matsumoto & DJ Yoshi’s Dreamer), while others offer themselves as pleasant Balearic or vocal numbers (wow, Elevation’s Somewhere’s harrowing). Perfect Wave aside, many familiar tunes are remixed to fit Schulz’ style, finding its groove early and maintaining it throughout. Despite lacking much in challenging music, it’s all perfectly pleasant, deep-trance vibes, and none too stale at this early stage. Coldharbour Sessions 2004 definitely deserves some props for that ten years on. Still, Schulz ain’t no Chris Fortier.

Sounds From The Ground - Luminal

Waveform Records: 2004

After jumping around labels for their first decade as Sounds From The Ground, Jones and Woolfson finally settled on Waveform to handle most of their distribution upon releasing Luminal. It also started off a sort-of trilogy on their part, exploring all that one can explore within the realm of ambient dub. I've already covered two here, Brightwhitelight and High Rising. And now we've come to the end, at the beginning. Huh, who'd have thought I'd do this in reverse. In a nutshell, the duo was a bit all over the place for their first few releases, which likely explains their label jumping too. More recently, they've explored darker downtempo, glitch and drone, but I'll get to that's for reviews much later on. Figures in the middle of this career they’d settle into a comfortable rhythm.

As Luminal was the first in this trilogy, it doesn't quite reach the highs of High Rising. For what it's worth, though, I find this one more interesting than Brightwhitelight. There's still some of the duo's acid jazz background cropping up (they'd released another album but two years prior on Ninja Tune sub-label Nu-Tone), so it’s not all ambient dub all the time. Heck, opener Stampede wouldn’t sound out of place on a Thievery Corporation album, sans occasional galloping horse samples. In fact, if you’re at all familiar with Thiev-Corp’s first album, Sounds From The Thievery Hi-Fi (and shame on you if you’re not), you’ll find yourself in familiar territory with the first couple tracks off Luminal.

After that though, it’s proper dub t’ings. Whether with cascading synth washes in Razz and Poems, smoky reggae roots in Tumbledown and Ten Tons Of Dope, funky upbeat numbers like Burning Bright and London Fields (which includes a lengthy intro of ambient pad bliss), or a soulful jam with Move On, the thick bass and spacious reverb is in full effect. Yep, Luminal definitely sounds good for a mid-‘00s Sounds From The Ground album. Yessir, it does. So... um, how’s things with you?

Look, there’s little more to say on this one. Everything I can say about how this album sounds, I’ve covered in the other two reviews I mentioned above. I’ve plumb run out of things now, and I fear it’s selling Luminal short. Hell, I’m selling ambient dub as a viable genre short, aren’t I? Guess it can’t be helped. Like so many branches in music, sometimes a genre will have stronger connection to a listener than others and, for whatever reason, ambient dub hits that sweet spot for yours truly, despite the simplistic nature much of its produced in. For others, it might be minimal deep-tech, others still dub techno or noodly drone. I can vibe on some of those too, yet more often than not, this is my go-to sound, nicely presented from the ground.

I do give Luminal a recommendation if you’re even a casual fan of blissy downtempo vibes, but it ain’t a big deal if you pass on it either.