Flowjob - Support Normality (2015 Update)

Iboga Records: 2006

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.)

At the tail end of that very, very, very long original review of Support Normality, I quipped about how pricey these old, ace albums in the psy scene can get on the collector’s market. Hell, even lesser CDs have fetched remarkable prices at Discogs. From my pile alone, U-Recken’s Aquatic Serenade once sold for $143! The compilation Goa Spirit 3, $102! ICE MC’s Ice N’ Green, $81 (wait, what?). Several Ultimae albums have moved in the $75-$100 range, with plenty more psy leaning discs going in the tidy $30-$50 bracket. Flowjob’s sophomore album, Zentertainment, which I found weaker than their debut, brought home $40 for a former owner. Surely Support Normality then, a great collection of ultra-groovy progressive trance, would command a gracious price of… seven… teen… dollars? Are you kidding me? That’s an injustice! This should be going for well over $50! Did Iboga flood the market with too many copies or something? Am I blinded by some unaccounted bias? I’ll admit I was going through some interesting transitional times when I first came across this album, but still.

No, wait, let’s examine this. Did my situational living impact upon my reaction to Support Normality in a significant way? It’s no secret we often associate music with events in our lives, such that hearing a song can send a flood of memories from the time you first heard it. When I play this album back now, three immediate things come to mind: a rave where I had a bad 2CB trip, shitty Vancouver weather (even more so than usual), and being home wretchedly sick watching Season 1 of Battlestar Galactica. I can’t say these are at all pleasant memories on the surface, but they were significant, where after a year of big city bachelorhood, I was learning just what it took to survive in the Lower Mainland. Don’t be so irresponsible at parties, get some proper rainwear, and don’t binge watch such a depressing, brilliant sci-fi series. Oh God, the flood of feels, I tells ya’!

I suppose Support Normality provided a brief bright spot in that dour February of 2006. The chipper vibes, dubby synths, and oh-so infectious rhythms gave me a glimmer of optimism, rejuvenated my interest in electronic music in such a way that hadn’t happened since electroclash emerged onto the scene. Flowjob wasn’t doing anything I hadn’t heard before, but they did it with such finesse and skill, I was instantly hooked. They found a sweet spot that catered to my deep, dubby prog needs, the sort of music none of the genre’s standard bearers were crafting anymore, all content pursuing their own roads instead (tech, minimal, Mc.). It obviously didn’t happen like that for others, some probably bored by what Flowjob was selling. But no one can deny they have albums of similar connection to them as this one has with me.

PS: no, I’m not looking to sell anything from my collection, but if I was, hoo boy, would I clean up!

David Bickley - Still Rivers At Night

Psychonavigation Records: 2006

Psychonavigation Records had a CD fire sale of their back-catalog over the summer, forcing me to splurge on a label as I've never splurged before. You bet that's generated a massive queue of music for my next alphabetical backtrack, to say nothing of the regular releases that have piled up during my sojourn of “S”. This here Still Rivers At Night from David Bickley is the first release of that label trawl that I'm finally reviewing, thus providing me with the opportunity to warn thee of the near future: there will be obscurity, oh yes.

I’m still stunned how Psychonavigation just sprung up out of seemingly nowhere a few years back, yet had been quietly going about its business throughout the ‘00s. Hell, I wonder if even they realized they’d have such a turnaround, given the rather sedate release schedule of their first decade in existence. Take this release, with a catalogue marker of PSY 015, released 2006. The label’s breached PSY 100 this year, and they’d only just reached PSY 050 in 2011. So... from about three releases per year, to about a clip of over ten per now. And all done with a plethora of obscure artists at that.

Take David Bickley. Have you heard of him? Okay, maybe if you’re from his native Ireland or a hardcore follower of downtempo and ambient music, the name’s crossed your path. Not mine though, except in one recent instance that didn’t even register with me at the time. The same year he put out this album, David also released a collaborative effort with Tom Green, the man behind Another Fine Day. In fact, almost all of Mr. Bickley’s Discogian credits list him as a collaborator or contributor to other artists. Going further back, he put out a few items under the alias of Hyperborea, which I know more for the Tangerine Dream album than anything else.

Hey, that’s a handy segue! While I wouldn’t call Still Rivers At Night a krautrock album, there are a few elements of that floating about, mostly in the synth-heavy Berlin-School vein. Hell, the titular cut could be right out of the late ‘70s with those vintage brisk, bloopy arps, sequenced modulators, and gentle pad waves. That’s about as easy it gets describing this album though. Mr. Bickley’s clearly had plenty of influences in his time in the world of music, and he finds ways of incorporating them in clever ways throughout. Traction Cities rides a laid-back trip-hop beat as a woozy melody ebbs in and out, Babygroove sounds like how psy dub might have gone if done by ‘70s German stoners, Zebo-Black glides along a minimalist electro rhythm with faded cinematic strings, and Cave 9 gets its psychedelic rock on while cruising the Amtrak in Detroit.

Ultimately, much of Still Rivers At Night reminds me of The Future Sound Of London’s more recent works. If that sounds mint to you, then this is a worthy companion to the quirkier albums in your collection.

Armin van Buuren - A State Of Trance 2006 (2015 Update)

Ultra Records: 2006

Oh what the heck. Though it's hi-lar-ious to leave my current thoughts of A State Of Trance 2006 out there in the ether, I feel like this needs a proper reassessment anyway. In the ensuing years following my bevy of bile, I had defenders proclaiming Armin's selection of tunes here wasn't so bad, not when compared to where the genre had gone since. And that's a valid point, all manner of sad bandwagon jumps and obnoxious productions (ugh, all that side-chain nonsense) still over the rim from 2006's vantage point. Hell, the idea of dubstep cozying up with trance was utter bollocks in the mid-'00s, yet here we in 2015, Seven Lions an actual thing. The euro trance scene has done more than enough to prove the old adage “it's never so bad that it can't get worse”, and there's been many instances of me going back to these old, lambasted releases, wondering just what zombie bug crawled up my ears to get me so irate. Maybe A State Of Trance 2006 was unjustly crucified, time and hindsight now offering a renewed perspective on Armin's mix.

Nope. In fact, it’s gotten worse! While On The Beach didn’t blow me away as a set, I found it agreeable enough as a proggy collection of tunes way back when. I haven’t a clue how I came to that conclusion before, because this sounds so dull to me now, spinning its wheels worse than the In The Club mix. The two tracks I pointed out as highlights – Zirenz’s Edge Of Space (Whiteroom Remix) and Incolumis’ One With Sanctuary - do remain the best of CD1, but everything else around them is useless plodding McProg and forgettable progressive trance. I mentioned Jody Wisternoff’s Cold Drink, Hot Girl as a mood changer, yet it serves no function in the context of this set. What was I even hearing? At least 2006 Sykonee was accurate in mentioning how lame that acoustic guitar in Sunlounger’s White Sand is.

As for In The Club, yeah, that’s gotten no better either. I ranted big about its problems before, but I could have summed it up with a single word: homogeny. There are twenty-three names listed among these tracks, and only five of them show any sort of personality outside the bog-standard epic, uplifting trance template: Stoneface & Terminal’s Venus for its distinctive rhythm and synths, Sander van Doorn’s rub of Control Freak for its Doorny beats, Thomas Bronzwaer’s Shadow World for those guilty-pleasure SUPREMEsaw synths, and van Buuren’s Sail for its awfulness. Everything else comes off like euro trance as disposable product, duplicated and churned out to meet Armin’s needs in presenting his singular, myopic vision of what trance must sound like. And this has been a problem with his music ever since!

With plenty other fresh takes on trance now available (prog psy! neo-trance! throwback trance! melodic, hypnotic techno!), settling for A State Of Trance 2006 as a standard-bearer of the genre is an exercise in musical denial.

Armin van Buuren - A State Of Trance 2006 (Original TC Review)

Ultra Records: 2006

(2015 Update:
My friends, this review is awful! ...is what you want me to say, right? I won't deny this is one tedious slog, taking forever to get to any point and forcing the reader to wade through waves of bile to do so. This thing is seventeen-hundred words long, with maybe two or three paragraphs of a clear point being made throughout. Hell, I spent the opening three-hundred words building to a lame joke about the cover. Who has time to read that? Certainly no one in this day and age. And there's so much more that's just cringe worthy to read now: still doing track-by-track in some instances, rambling on about inconsequential details, and what the Hell was I going on about with constant reference to 'Glory Years'? I just listened to a DJ mix that sounds much closer to Millennial trance than this one, A State Of Trance 2004. This sounds nothing like that.

I was tempted to do a full Update review, as I've plenty fresh things to say about this mix, but that'd be cheating my ironclad rules. Besides, do I really need to spend any more words on A State Of Trance 2006? I mean, just look at this review! It's a bitter, bloated beast, ornery and cranky for reasons I can't recall now, beyond my utter frustration with Armin's scene in general. All that hype, all that marketing, all that product and good intentions. All that waste of my time.)


IN BRIEF: Still living the Glory Years.

Armin van Buuren’s always been the guy who remains cheerfully optimistic in the face of adversity, and it clearly shows in his approach to music. His brand of uplifting trance is known to rock many a club night while putting sincere smiles on all those who hear it, equally enjoying the soaring melodies while Armin exuberantly lays down the anthems behind the decks.

But one has to wonder whether Armin is growing tired of his role as cheerleader for the epic trance brigade. After all, nearly every other DJ that helped build the style into the dominating party music that it was at the turn of the century has begun to move on to other pastures, leaving Armin to carry on in their stead. He’s certainly made ample use of being given the spotlight, as his star rose to the elites of popular trance DJs while promoting his A State Of Trance internet radio show as the premier source for new uplifting tunes. However, being stuck in that typecast has left him at a standstill for the last few years.

His artist album Shivers from last year saw him attempt to break that mold by creating songs outside the trance template. A worthy idea, but the results were uninspiring to casual happeners and met with annoyance from his hardline trance fans. Still, Armin knows if he wants to be held in higher regard outside his core niche, he’s going to have to step up his game. So, no more Mr. Happy Exuberant Nice Guy. With the grim determination of a DJ on a mission to bring trance back to its nostalgic highs, Armin presents to us the latest collection of the best trance music his radio show has to offer.

Well, one theory for the awful cover image at least.

Anyhow, here we are with Armin’s latest edition of his annual A State Of Trance series. As usual, there are plenty of complaints from listeners of his radio show that there are too many tracks which have been played to death. I’m still befuddled by this complaint; unless you are an extreme Armin fanboy that has got to have everything Armin puts out, this release really isn’t for the dedicated radio listener. Rather, the aim here is simple: compile the standouts from the program for those who don’t listen to it much (or, like me, at all), thus giving Armin the necessary promotion in places that are not the interweb - namely, music stores where money can be made. Fortunately for the non-radio listener and non-downloader, there are plenty of new, exclusive, unreleased tracks to be had in this edition, so if fresh material is what you’re after, you’ll get some bang for your buck.

Following similar themes set by previous editions, 2006 divides the selection of tunes between two different types of sets. Last year, Armin didn’t know if his audience would get the idea, so he gave the discs idiot-proof titles of Light and Dark. He seems to show a little more faith in his fans this year though, going for the slightly more descriptive titles At The Beach and In The Club. Since it’s the first disc here, let us start with the beachy music.

And Mike Foyle’s Shipwrecked is as fine an opener for such a theme as any. Pleasant piano melodies, seaside sound effects, and warm pads make up the bulk, with simple rhythms keeping the pace on easy cruise control. This is quite the blissy offering, easily putting me into a trancey, tranquil sense of waterfront calm.

...Only to be promptly taken out of it by the questionable guitar work in White Sand. I can kind of hear what DJ Shah was shooting for with this track, that of a loungey Mediterranean mood. Unfortunately it comes across as mere noodly finger plucking, without any kind of proper attention paid to stringing together a cohesive harmony. It’s like a poor-man’s Michael Brook with a dance beat.

We quickly leave these seaside tunes though, entering a stretch of moody vocal prog numbers, each followed by a charming instrumental to complement them. These are all quite nice to listen to, keeping the mood on a gradual climb with each track sounding unique from the previous without losing that all important flow. Although the tracks never quite lift beyond a few minor emotional peaks (most notably Junkie XL’s remix of Niyaz’ Dilruba and the Whiteroom remix of Zirenz’ Edge Of Space), they are effective in drawing you into a pleasant trance. It’s just as nice as background music as it is something you can absorb yourself into.

Once Jody Wisternoff’s Cold Drink, Hot Girl changes the general tone of this mix to something a little more groovey, Armin sees fit to gently ease us out of our blissy tenure with the ethereal setting of One With Sanctuary from Incolumis. No apparent hook to be had with this track; just gentle pad work with appropriate rhythms. Definitely a nice capper to this pleasant little disc.

Ack, but Armin decides to keep going. I’ve complained about him throwing on additional tracks at the end of a set when the lead-up to it suggests he’s wrapping up, just because it comes off as milking a CD’s length for all its worth even if you’ve said all that needs to be said. Still, his choice of add-ons isn’t too bad this time out. Even if Envio’s For You has the unfortunate distinction of being ‘one track too many’, it’s a decent track regardless.

Overall though, At The Beach certainly manages to create the atmosphere Armin’s title shoots for. Although a couple tracks feel out of place (I suspect the Karen Overton one may just be PR plugging, but that’s a rant for another review), none of them really detract from the overall tone set-up by Shipwrecked and, more or less, is brought to its natural conclusion at the end. It’s not a revolutionary mix, but works within its confines and should make for a nice summer soundtrack.

As for the second disc...

Shit...

My friends, this is awful!

Damned near every single fucking song does the exact same thing! I just need to provide a link to Fable’s Above for a description (2015 Edit: whoops, that link no longer exists!), and let that repeat itself. If you’re too lazy to actually click the link, here’s the gist of how it goes from start to finish: intro and outro beats matched; minor melody; breakdown, build, soaring uplifting melody, jump in the air with your fist pumping, supposedly cheering Armin on for selecting the ‘choon’; repeat. That’s it. The repetitive redundancy this disc contains isn’t that far removed from that found in hardstyle mixes. The energy is completely flatlined from the get-go, at no point ever seeming to lead anywhere other than just one breakdown after the other, and the predictability of it gets old fast. Were I to implement my Patent Pending Trance Drinking Game to this disc, I’d leave with a very tortured liver.

It’s not that all the individual songs on display here are bad examples of epic trance; put into a better set with more room to stand out, any one of them would probably be good peak time moments. However, Armin’s arrangement and mixing is so utterly bland, the tracks never get a chance to show any kind of personality, which is a far cry from the flavour to be had in the first disc. The beats are simply aligned, the keys properly matched, and that’s it. A robot could do the same job. Say, maybe that’s what gives with the blank look in Armin’s face on the cover: he’s been replaced by an android!

There are a couple points where this mix seems to break the mold, however slightly, but not always for the better. Highlights include: the better than average melody in DJ Governor’s Red Woods; some quirky synthy delights to be found in Stoneface & Terminal’s Venus; the SUPREMEsaw synths of Thomas Bronzwaer’s Shadow World (though that just may be familiarity sparking my interest, since I’ve already heard it on Phynn’s recent DJ mix for the In Trance We Trust series). Lowlights include: both Kyau vs. Albert tracks, who’s blend of bland adult contemporary songwriting with trance beats seems to kill just about every show of momentum; Armin’s own laughable Sail.

Actually, since he gives his own new anthem the spotlight at the end, I may as well give it the review spotlight as well. It’s as though Armin, still trying to create that one classic that will be played forever and ever, took a look at every single major hit in the past and fused them all together. The melody is super-stupidly simple, pretty much hitting single notes on every beat and played with just about every kind of sound you’ve heard in epic trance. You get bleepy synths that made PPK’s ResuRection the smash it was; you get plinky pianos that made Children the hit it was; happy-go-lucky rhythms which are vintage Ferry Corsten; and, of course supersaw breakdowns, sure to bring back Rank 1 memories. And that’s just the first fucking half! I’ll admit I have a soft spot for the voice pads, but Armin kills it with a horribly distorted synth sound in a second breakdown, which reminds me of Tiësto’s take on Adagio For Strings in sound, and The fucking Launch in ‘melody’, of all damned things. To complete the idiocy of trance clichés, he brings in stuttery supersaws alongside the distorted synth once the beat returns. What is this, epic trance meets hardstyle? Christ... Either this is meant to be a ‘tribute’ to the Glory Years of epic trance that totally missed the mark, or a very, very sick joke.

I honestly don’t know how anyone can take Armin seriously after this. At The Beach showed some promise, but In The Club destroys it in an instant with its tiresome re-hashing. In Armin’s mind, 1999 is still going strong, and I suppose with the continuous influx of new kids to the scene, he’ll be able to live off of that vibe for a long while still. He’s apparently made his bed with the Glory Years, and you can either join in with his never-ending ride or go elsewhere. Of course, once you’ve moved past that introductory stage A State Of Trance seems custom made for, you usually will.

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

Coldcut - Sound Mirrors (2015 Update)

Ninja Tune: 2006

Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.

Here we are, nearly a decade since Coldcut dropped what thus far looks to be a final album. They still may make room for another – Sound Mirrors and their previous LP, Let Us Play!, had a similar gap – but I guess their muses haven't needed an indulging of the production console lately. Did they turn jaded their Big Issues Album didn't garner much impact? All the Important Messages and sloganeering amounted to one big 'meh' from club culture, to say nothing of disinterest from the rest of the music world. Not that they had much chance. Green Day couldn't do it. Dixie Chicks couldn't do it. Hell, if even Neil F'n Young couldn't get folks riled enough to impeach the President, Coldcut sure ain't gonna' turn the tide in the face of such overwhelming apathy. But ooh, look at the glowing pyramid those Daft Punk robots made. Oooh, such shiny, much jangly!

Maybe we should have listened though. Playing this ten year old collection of music and lyrics again, my God how did we ever survive the ‘00s? The world was in total collapse, decaying before our very ears as heard in A Whistle And A Prayer. Corporations were running amok, controlling our every whim (Man In A Garage), providing us absolutely soulless escapism in canned mainstream music (Just For The Kick). Government spies and spooks lurked everywhere (Boogie Man), obviously controlled by higher powers above, abroad, underneath, and ether-wheres (Everything Is Under Control). Even those who proclaim doing good in the world are shady fucks, milking and bilking the wretched for personal gains (Aid Dealer). Dear lord, no wonder poor ol' Mr. Nichols wanted to jump from a building – either all of society was doomed, or you had to flee to the outbacks and live your life as a dirty hippie, essentially isolated and in denial of global issues.

Obviously, that isn’t an accurate portrayal of the haughty Aughties. Hell, I'm sure many would argue that we're worse off now than in that cheery year of 2006, what with crippling recessions, rapid climate change, increased racial strife, and endless sectarian violence. Pity Mr. Nichols if he decided the things worrying him weren't enough to end his life. Are things truly so dire though? We got problems, no doubt, but an abundance of protest music there doth lack in our current climes. Maybe artists only get riled up when there's a Republican President.

Or perhaps with global shrinkage comes greater understanding of the world we live in. A better track off Sound Mirrors, the Robert Owens featuring Walk A Mile In My Shoes, is one of the few times the album provides an actual solution to solving issues instead of just ranting about all that’s wrong. While it may not be possible to literally live the lives of others, social media certainly gave us more access to understanding the people in such positions. And more knowledge will only help the march of progress for all. (weee! Soapboxing is fun!)

Magda - She's A Dancing Machine

M_nus: 2006

Magda is Madgdalena Chojnacka, a very important person in the world of techno. Because she’s a woman, see. And women don’t do techno apparently, but she does, making her important. Bunch of hogwash far as I’m concerned – the likes of Ellen Allien has long made a mark on the predominantly Boys-Only club of clubbing culture, with plenty more female jocks rising in prominence this past decade. Magda though, she had the benefit of being pals with Richie F’n Hawtin, the most very important person in the world of techno during the mid-‘00s. Despite being long time friends even before moving to Berlin, she got tagged as something of a hanger-on, also a bunch of hogwash as far as I’m concerned. So she benefited from being part of M_nus’ inner circle. At least she came out of the minimal fiasco with some integrity intact (unlike too many others I won’t namedrop).

For one thing, she never flooded the market with material, sticking to the touring circuit and letting the great M_nus hype machine do the rest. Smart idea, what with the minimal scene quickly growing flooded with plink-plonk nonsense and dry-as-dirt DJ mixes. There was always something just a little more unique about her sets though, a bit of funkiness in a typically sterile environment. Come see the cute DJ, stay because she’s got your feet locked on the floor!

When Magda finally did put her name to a physical format though, she went out of her way to challenge the norm, following in the Plastikman’s footsteps in rethinking the idea of what a DJ mix could be. She’s A Dancing Machine lists seventy-one tracks in its list, all cut, looped, spliced and Ableton’d onto a single CD. Yes, it’s minimal techno, but this is how such music is best served, using snippets, bits, and pieces for an icy cool mix. Things are constantly shifting and changing, all the while maintaining a sense of forward momentum without getting lost in monotonous effects wank. For the love of an 808, I cannot understand why so many minimal mixes don’t do this. DJs will layer once or thrice, but always in a clinical manner, seldom with the same sense of loose groove Magda employs here. I don’t doubt constructing sets of this sort takes a ridiculous amount of time, so it’s easier to just do the standard mix CD of lining up your tracks of similar genre origin. Compared to She’s A Dancing Machine though, such sets are a right bore, far too safe and predictable. Here, I’m constantly engaged by every little quick twist and turn played.

Okay, this still are mostly serious minimal techno, with all the familiar names of that era popping in. Magda’s debut mix CD won’t convince you to check this music further once you’ve long written it off. If you’ve a little curiosity over what that scene’s big fuss was though, She’s A Dancing Machine is one of the better offerings available to soak your ears in.

Various - Sessions: Steve Angello (Original TC Review)

Ministry Of Sound: 2006

(2015 Update:
Another review with a lengthy preamble attempt at defining genre terms and all that - 2006 Sykonee sure did that a lot. He also wasn't accurate in his prediction that trashy electro house had its day in the sun, though the imminent rise in minimal definitely curtailed its trendiness. He/I was bang on, however, in pointing out how much of a time capsule this mix turned out being. No one plays out tunes as dull as those found on CD2, thank God, and even that dirty Swedish sound fell out of favor when the SHM shifted their sound to the headline festival circuit. Clap-along anthems are in, thump-stomp farting basslines are out.

As for Mr. Angello... hoo boy, there's a mouthful. I don't think anyone could have predicted just how big he and his Swedish House Mafia cohorts would get, even with the level of fame he'd already achieved by the mid-'00s. Gotta' give him credit for making such bank with so little effort, but it feels like his success inadvertently left a scorched earth in his wake. Get money, get fame, get crowds, and who the fuck cares about its lasting impact on electronic music at large. Like, it's not his fault so many producers tried copying his stuff, diluting the scene with absolute rubbish so many years after. Or maybe I'm giving the guy far too much credit.)

IN BRIEF: ‘Elect-' no, that’s not right at all. Hmm... dirty tech...?

The dust has settled, the hype has passed, and we’ve now had time to reflect. What at the time seemed reasonable is now regarded by many as a mistake, an obvious ploy to tag an already hot buzzword to something it really wasn’t. Yes, folks, it’s true. It would seem ‘electro’ house - the simple gritty throbbing offspring of tech house - is finally falling out of favor as that music’s unofficial title. I doubt anyone was entirely comfortable with the name but with no one coming up with something more concrete, promoters ran with it, anxious to capitalize on the sound. Now that ‘electro’ house’s popularity is waning, perhaps we can finally figure out what to properly call it (as was done with ‘techno’- sorry, euro dance).

As an unlikely source as it may seem, I think Ministry Of Sound nailed it on the promo sticker of their Sessions release featuring esteemed Swedish House Mafia member Steve Angello: “fuck-off dirty house music”. That captures the spirit of their sound perfectly! Those raw basslines are as dirty as it gets, like a synth dragged through analogue gravel. And funk? Soul? Hell no. This is house music with punk attitude, designed to get your head bangin’ and your body moshin’. Fuck off with those pretentious designs; we’re here to raise a ruckus. Well, maybe the ‘fuck-off’ bit can be done away with if you’re feeling prissy, but dirty house... yeah, I likes that. Loads more than ‘electro’ anyways.

Unfortunately, it matters little now, as the music’s already had its day in the sun. When you base an entire style around a single attribute (those basslines, duh), it quickly falls into the novelty trap: producers figuring the gimmick is enough to have any ol’ hit without writing a decent song, or even a catchy hook (I’m looking at you, Dreamcatcher). Dirty house (yes, that’s what I’m unofficially calling it from now on, until something more official and less half-assed than ‘electro’ replaces it; deal with it) quickly fell into this trap, tons of knock-off imitators plaguing the shops, diluting a good, if limited, idea. One year ago, this was the hottest sound bubbling up; even trance jocks were jumping on it. Today, a respected DJ only uses it sparingly (as they should), a token gesture towards those who still demand stomping farty basslines.

This DJ mix captures dirty house’s apex. At the turn of the year, it was fresh, exciting, and storming dancefloors. Angello and his partner Sebastian Ingrosso were a pair of the hottest names around. That time has long since passed though, and all the fever over a release such as this has quietly receded to the back corners, some even too embarrassed they were head-over-heels over something so obviously gimmicky. Is this what Angello’s Sessions is though, nothing but novelty? Or did this Mafia member put together a compilation that folks down the road can throw on and enjoy when dirty house has finally gone the way of speed garage?

Angello quickly says yes, proving to us he’s more than a one-trick pony in the house scene. The opening chunk of disc one sees a nice assortment of styles to warm us up: disco, italo, Latin, and even an unashamed ‘reach-for-the-lasers’ track with Stoppage Time. Nothing groundbreaking of course, but house heads will be pleased with the variety maintaining a building flow.

And then those basslines appear.

Actually, some of the farty sounds were in the former tracks, but they complemented rhythms rather than lead the whole. From Not So Dirty on though, it’s a distinguishing characteristic, and your enjoyment of disc one will depend entirely on how much you dig the dirty house sound.

For what it’s worth, Angello does provide a decent amount of variety between these tracks. Even if most of the hooks are predictable as fuck (dun, dun-dun, dun, d-d-d-d-dun-dun, and so on), a different synth patch each time does wonders to maintain interest. I’d even consider Angello’s own Chord - a track which brings this set to a peak - electro proper, as it has that robotic Neo-Tokyo vibe going for it. And yes, the rhythms pound along just fine; drunkenly and disorderly, sometimes with hints of funk too. This is house music best enjoyed with copious shooters and played really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really loud. Listening to this disc though, you get the impression even Angello realized the limited potential of this sound; it begins to bore towards the end and his final two tracks feel like tag-ons that have little to do with the rest of the set. It doesn’t help they plod along without any of the energy the previous tracks provided. Sadly, they hint at things to come in disc two.

His second set in this double starts interestingly enough. Opening with the moody minimal sounds of Mandarine Girl, then turning on its head with the kitschy Sexy As Fuck, it appears Angello is taking a stab at trashy electroclash and pulsing techno. Fine and dandy for a bit, and it even gets a nice peak with Trentemøller’s remix of Röyksopp's What Else Is There?

And then he goes minimal. Very minimal. Tediously minimal. Annoyingly minimal. Man, I know this stuff’s hipster points are through the roof right now, and jumping on this sound earlier in the year would have been considered a daring artistic choice, but not when it’s this boring. The end of disc one may be plodding, but it’s a Clyde Stubblefield solo compared to the tracks Angello lays down for most of disc two. Some hope of lifting us out of this ketamine daze appears at points, notably in Alto Voltaje, but the set always falls back to square one; many teases, no payoffs (Ingrosso’s own remix of Moby’s Dream About Me is brutal at this). I don’t expect minimal to be exciting or funky or contain huge riffs, but there should at least be something for my head to dig on, of which there isn’t much. The atmosphere, minimal’s make-or-break attribute, has no life. Few of the sounds bubbling about are interesting to hear, and when the only form of dancing one can do to this set is the Zombie Lurch, it makes for a very boring hour of music. At least Holden’s remix of The Sky Was Pink gives us something kind of melodic to end off on.

So, does Angello’s Sessions mix have enough charm to be enjoyed outside of its time? The first disc certainly does, although the phrase ‘this is sooo 2005' will undoubtedly be running through your head as it plays. The second disc... um, not so much. If anything, it’ll provide future music geeks with evidence why the minimal movement was perhaps a mistake - not that I think this to be true, mind, as there has been some quality in this style; just very little here. If you can find this double-disc on the cheap, it’ll serve as a nifty time-capsule in your music collection.

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

Various - In Trance We Trust 011: Phynn (Ishkur's Review)

In Trance We Trust: 2006

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review)

(note: one of my ironclad rules is I will not review anything I do not have in my personal collection of music, even if I've already technically paid for it - Ishkur doesn't have such scruples though, so he pinched in to do a review of this for me. Enjoy!)


Eurotrance is like a rollercoaster. The first time, you enjoy it. You enjoy it a lot. You enjoy it so much, you go again. And again. But after a hundred times, not so much. For nearly 20 years eurotrance has inundated us with the same ride, the same coaster, the same up and down nonsense in music stores, supermarkets, elevators, hotel lobbies and every La Senza, Bebe and Hot Topic in every mall. Some people never tire of riding the same coaster. Those people have the musical sensibility of a squirrel and the insecurity of a crack whore, to the extent that they’ve created their own annual popularity contest to tell themselves how good they are at their own music. You call them every cracker-ass white dutchbag at Sensation White. We simply call them trancecrackers.

Continuing the compost crap collection of common cookie cutter cardboard cutout copycat cracker-ass compact disc compilation compositions for low countries cunts is In Trance We Trust 011, played by Phynn. I won’t say mixed because trance DJs don’t mix, they play pre-recorded music. You might recognize Phynn as the Dutch trance DJ everyone loved. No, the other one. No, the other one. No, the other one.

The In Trance We Trust series started in 1999 as a showcase of the titular sublabel of Testicle’s Black Hole Reamings, promising to bring a harder edge to Dutch eurodisney cheese, which is like promising to make your food spicier by adding mayonnaise. They’re up to 020 now, each one an annual sampler platter of the label’s milquetoast offerings, indistinguishable in form and content. And yes, that is how they number them. That means we have 977 more to go. Listening to them in succession would feel longer and more agonizing than Stephen King’s ‘The Jaunt’. [you don’t know the half of it –Syk]

This mix is thoroughly unremarkable in every conceivable way. You’ve been on this rollercoaster before. There is nothing new or special here. 79 minutes of disposable, formulaic, feather-lite fluff, only 53m of which is actual trance (the other 26m are breakdowns – long, boring, annoying, non-dancing wristwatch-checking go-to-the-bar-and-get-a-drink breakdowns). For this reason I give it an objective score of 67%. It is a C-average mark. Just like Phynn’s career.

Tracks of note:

Kay Stone – Alone has one breakdown and it’s only 8 bars. That makes it a moderately decent trance song.

Mode Hookers – Breathe is a piss-poor attempt by Sander van Doorn to make farting bassline house that all the kids were into at the time.

Phynn’s own track Close Encounters runs the gamut of the stop-start nonsense that makes eurotrance so insufferable. It’s easily the worst track and also the longest. Gee Phynn, promo whore much?

Airbase – For the Fallen, a breaktrance number in the Freeland tradition, proves my theory that trancecrackers will listen to other genres but only if trance producers make them.

Phynn’s mixing: You know they have bots that can do this now, right?

Inspectah Deck - The Resident Patient

Urban Icon Records: 2006

As an MC, Inspectah Deck is nigh impossible to fault, easily top tier in any Wu-Tang conversation. No, this isn't a debate. Every fan of Wu-Tang Clan has their favourite member, but whenever the Rebel INS starts spitting some fire, you darn well pay attention to his words. Why, then, has he struggled in the solo album market? Lack of an identifiable persona would be my guess. Excellent lyricism only gets you so far in an image conscious rap game, and when you’re surrounded by a bevy of outlandish characters in Wu-Tang, it's difficult sticking out. Hell, even when Method Man did his famous rundown on each Clan member's trait, he struggled describing what Inspectah Deck's name meant (“He's like that dude that'll sit back and watch you play yourself and all that right? And see you sit there and know you lyin; and he'll take you to court after that.” ...th'duq?).

Still, with his first two albums, Rebel INS showed some promise in coming up with a persona unique to him within the Clan: the crafty street hustler who remains embedded in the projects even as he gains affluence. After all, that inner city knowledge ain’t gettin’ dropped by itself, and Mr. Hunter’s greatest verses are often about ghetto illumination. Or just taking rival MCs to task – seriously, why can’t Deck and Del collab’ just once?

Okay, I’m rambling. The Resident Patient, Inspectah’s third solo outing. Or was it? Yes, it was, but it’s long been rumoured this was intended as a mixtape offering, not a proper LP effort. I can definitely believe that, as this is one dodgy release. For one thing, Mr. Hunter’s raps just aren’t as interesting compared to his other albums. He sounds good, but the content’s just not there. A lot of brags we’ve heard before, a few rudimentary come-ons, and an occasional street drama that runs far too short, lacking the sort of vivid imagery or intensity heard on many other records.

The production quality’s all over the map too, a plethora of way underground hip-hop beatsmiths lending their hands in what sounds like several disparate recording sessions. Mondee’s the main one (five tracks), who I’ve never heard before but Lord Discogs tells me has enjoyed a modestly successful career. He does fit the style Deck prefers spitting rhymes over, heavy street funk and cinematic soul, perfect for all your blaxploitation needs. Yet why do I much prefer the one-off gritty Chinatown slum bump of hopelessly obscure Concrete Beats? Or the vintage Wu stylee of RZA protégé Cilvaringz? Or even Deck’s own funky head-bop production? (Let’s not get into the others. Yes, even Psycho Les – was never a fan of Beatnuts)

I guess the most damning thing I can say about The Resident Patient is it’s an album with no real flow, an almost criminal accusation for an MC with impeccable flow. A few moments do shine through, but unless you’re a hardcore Inspectah Deck fan, I wouldn’t bother with this.

Burial - Burial

Hyperdub: 2006

About time I get some Burial up in this here bloggin' bitch. I've made reference to him in a dozen other reviews, so it's only proper that I take the once-enigmatic post-dubsteppy future-garageist darling under the critical scalpel at some point. If only he'd have a higher workrate, chucking out EPs, LPs, and CDs at enough of a clip that I'd have covered at least one release by now. Wait... no, never mind, it wouldn't matter anyway. Lord Discogs tells me almost all his musics are titled in the bottom end of the alphabet – that are available on compacted discual format anyway. Man, when Burial goes low, it be low indeed.

Appropriately enough, I'm beginning this Burial business with his self-titled debut album. Come, let me take you to a bizarre time in electronic music history, when dubstep had barely squirted out of the London City underground. Hyperdub, the ultra-cool, savvy UK bass music label known for critically hailed acts like Kode9, Zomby, and DJ Rashad, had just launched. Many pegged it an upstart in the early dubstep scene, as few looked capable of toppling the mighty Tempa in those days. But they hadn't counted on a secret weapon in the likes of Burial emerging from those grimy South London Burroughs.

Thing about early dubstep is it was still entirely indebted to grime rap for its inspiration, especially so the ‘dub’ instrumentals. Grime, however, had emerged from UK garage, a rugged, aggressive counter to that scene’s glitzy urban attributes. D’em London rude-boys, they want no girly vocals and emotions in their gritty beats. Then Burial said, “Nah, guy, we can bring the garage soul to the warehouse. Watch.” And that’s what he done did, taking in garage samples and overdubbing them so they came out as ethereal whispers of UK clubbing’s past, contorted into something abstract and haunting. And geez, does it ever tug at your nostalgia memory centres. Small surprise everyone was quick in making the Boards Of Canada comparison, and it can’t be a coincidence that the Scotland duo took a long hiatus almost immediately after Burial emerged (yes it can).

But that’s the Burial as we’ve come to know, which broke out of UK obscurity with his sophomore album, Untrue. For this album, we only hear that half the time, and no surprise these are among the best tracks within. Distant Lights, Southern Comfort, U Hurt Me, Gutted, and Pirates all play to a sense desolate inner-city soul, even as the rhythmic shuffle echoes crisp and clear off abandoned buildings recently used for squat parties. There’s gentle rain-soaked ambience too (Night Bus, Forgive), but the rest of Burial is still tied to dubstep’s pure-grime roots, music much too sparse and rhythmically clunky for those uninterested in anything UK bass related.

Ultimately, Burial’s debut sounds like he’s exploring where his music can potentially go rather than being bothered in creating a cohesive LP. Considering how many copy-cats its spawned though, he definitely hit upon something special here.

Steve Porter - Porterhouse

Fade Records: 2006

I’m hard pressed to think of another career that’s taken as strange a trajectory as Steve Porter’s. He got his break releasing tunes on Chris Fortier’s Fade Records, joining the ranks of a progressive house/trance/pants scene as it started down the ‘dark prog’ path. These days, he’s known as that guy who makes memetastic sports mash-ups, winning web awards and features on SportsCenter. Hell, he even got the nod of approval from Canadian blow-hard Don Cherry, no small feat considering the short list of things he’ll give any props to. Now, make that connection in your head: from John Digweed to Don Cherry. It just don’t add up!

Confounding this story further is the long in-between those career points, as it shows almost no common link between the two incredibly disparate achievements. Instead, we find Steve Porter supporting funky house music, as daft as any scene to find refuge in the middle of the ‘00s. He had to do something, of course, as the dark prog that defined his early years had fallen out of fashion, most of his peers left adrift to latch onto whatever hot new trend they could adapt to. Most went for the minimal and tech-house brass ring, including some of his Fade label mates; others tried out that electro fad for a time. Upbeat disco and funk though? There were isolated strongholds for the sound, especially in clubs around New York City and Miami, but where was the critical prestige in those fun and gaudy scenes, the buzzword worthiness, the forced narrative of their influence within The Scene at large?

This move on Porter’s part could have been career suicide, and he may have faded off into irrelevancy if he hadn’t found fame with his mash-up videos. On the other hand, chasing trends probably didn’t appeal to him if it meant playing dry-as-desert dirt tech-house or electro-fart nonsense - dance music doesn’t have to be so damn serious nor ‘stoopid’. If losing critical hype is the price paid for pursuing what appeals most to you, then all the more power to ya’, Mr. Porter.

Making his new musical manifesto clear was his first dive into the DJ mix market, Porterhouse. It contains twenty-six tracks, which is impossible to mix on a single CD if you’re still playing prog, but perfectly awesome if you’re playing funky house. And breaks! Holy cow, breaks are mixed in here. Not in the traditional ‘spotlight segment’ either, but throughout as though they have every right existing beside all the four-to-the-floor business. Plenty of instances of prog-house’s chugging rhythms and big melodic moments crop up too, though never to the detriment of keeping the vibe on the up and tempo consistent and relentless. Porter also makes up about half the tunes (including under guises like Chop Shop and Agent 001), so there aren’t many detours away from his sound. Porterhouse doesn’t come off as anything more significant than a mindless diversion then, but I can’t deny it being a fun ride.

DJ Abasi - Nüdisorder

Intimate Productions: 2006

Every city has local DJs who are minor legends thereabouts but relatively unknown abroad. Fame and fortune, they seek these things not, for they are purists of the scene: collecting records, opening for the touring superstars, and all around just vibey chaps to hang around. DJ Abasi's one of Vancouver's best examples, a guy who's been around since the early rave days of the city and everyone knows in some way. Though I could drop a ton of events, nicknames, parties, drinks, and anecdotes associated with him, the truth is only locals would understand much of it. Besides, I suspect he'd be incredibly embarrassed by any glowing exposé beyond what I've already provided, humbleness above all else his endearing virtue.

All of which probably doesn't matter the slightest to readers from elsewheres. I mean, ol' Farshad's not a Tyler Stadius or Jay Tripwire, other Vancouver home-growns with some level recognition in the wider world of clubbing. Of course, they're well known thanks to official releases marketed in shops all over the place (and Lord Discogs). Abasi, on the other hand, had barely put out anything beyond demos intended for small circulation. This Nüdisorder was primarily intended as promotion for Intimate Productions’ DJ talent, but this being his first definitive CD release showcasing his skills behind the decks, there was some interest and excitement (launch party! ‘Farshots’!) in seeing what he’d cook up in the studio.

DJ Abasi’s main appeal’s his fluency with several genres of electronic music. Hell, this mix alone is bookended by Pet Shop Boys (a brief bit of Absolutely Fabulous at the start, and Yesterday, When I Was Mad at the end), while Hardfloor acid house (Da Revival) worms its way somewhere in the middle. Mostly though, we’re treated to the revitalized sounds of electro, mash-ups, and disco punk that flourished in early ‘00s, all genres he states were having the biggest impact on his sets at the time. Nüdisorder’s tracklist reads like a who’s who of all the hot names – Soulwax, Tiefschwarz, Tiga, Playgroup, The Juan McLean, Vitalic, etc., etc. Fortunately, his tune selection offers plenty of quirky inclusions so this CD doesn’t come off as just another hit parade.

For instance, there’s classic ‘80s tunes like The Chase but covered by 2020Soundsystem, while New Order gets in with their super-oldie Everything’s Gone Green but by way of a Cicada remix; meanwhile, here’s a cool b-side from Kittin & Hacker called The Beach, having little to do with New Order’s original. One can’t have electroclash without a proper old-school cut though, so here’s Hashim’s Al-Naafiysh. Adn speaking of remixes, why not a little DFA action on Gorillaz’ Dare? Abasi’s lengthy mash-up mixing’s a little rough at points, but it only adds to the CD’s genre-freewheeling appeal.

While I doubt folks outside the 604-district will have much interest in Nüdisorder (much less find a copy), I spent a week blathering about my old burned mix CDs, so Abasi gets a review here too. No blame.

Various - Northern Faction 3 (Original TC Review)

Balanced Records: 2006

(2014 Update:
Compared to the 1000+ word beasts I was writing for TranceCritic at the time, this review's puny, probably the shortest one I did that wasn't an EP. I make my excuses within that going through it track-by-track would be a disservice to the overall mood of the CD, but the reality is I didn't want to write at length about nu-jazz intricacies. I still don't, but then I don't think even enthusiasts are keen on it either. It's all vibe, man.

Surprisingly, Balanced Records is still in operation, though their output is so glacial it'd make Ultimae look at them and ask "yo, what's with the hold up?" - a fifth volume of Northern Faction was put out just two years ago! Gotta hand it to the Winnipeg label for sticking things out though. Hardy folk, those Manitobians be.)


IN BRIEF: How’s aboot some downtempo vibes, eh?

Every time I claim one has to search backwater Canadian towns to stumble upon bits of musical gold, it’s for comedy’s sake. Well, not always. Despite most of the media attention focusing on major city output on this side of the Atlantic, plenty of isolated communities scattered throughout Canada have been bitten by the electronic bug. Granted, Winnipeg may be considered a larger city by Canadian standards, but when lined up against some of North America’s heavy-weights, the Manitoba capital is puny.

Then, of course, are the winters. Canada gets ribbed to death over harsh winters, something which seems silly to those of us on the West Coast. However, Winnipeg often fits the stereotype, and many a tune from or inspired by the province tends to capture the spirit of cold, gray winter months nicely.

Balanced Records has created a bit of a murmur by capitalizing on this aspect of their hometown. Offering slowed-down grooves and warm ambience on their releases, the idea of cozying up to a crackling fire while snuggled in a big, warm blanket seems perfectly apt, their Northern Faction series showcasing local talent in the process. With the third edition, Balanced feels it’s time to broaden their borders and tap a few artists across the globe that shares the same ideals.

Yes, downtempo vibes are the name of the game here, but that’s kind of vague. Specifically, a jazzy mood is maintained while the tracks run through a variety of chilled-out styles. This is good news for those who prefer their mellow music containing a touch of musical class, but I’ll bet the word ‘jazz’ can frighten casual listeners; all too often they are reminded of self-indulgent masturbatory solos.

Well, put aside those fears, as Northern Faction 3 keeps things ‘cool’ (oh-ho-ho-ho!) with the jazz. While the opening set of tracks could probably fit snugly in the nu-jazz camps (including a pair of songs using trumpet leads), things soon slide into other styles, only retaining some of the improvisational techniques jazz is known for.

In relative running order, nu-jazz, trip-hop, dub, and soul all have their moments to shine. However, each track willfully fuses these elements in unique ways, borrowing ideas and tones to craft songs that are equally engaging as they are handy for background vibes. While few may leap out and surprise you, you’ll still find yourself lightly drawn to little moments that come and go: an interesting drum pattern; a warm synth pad; a catchy saxophone solo; a clever dub effect; a quirky vocal sample; the pleasant twinkle of a keyboard. All this and more can crop up when you least expect it during the course of this CD.

Of special note is the middle section. With the start of the track Opening Dawn by Lampshade, the listener is drawn into a dreamy sequence of soundscapes as dubby effects surround you. The track arrangement done here by Balanced Records is mesmerizing, a feat all the more fascinating when you consider just how disparate the styles of these songs actually are. And while this, ah, ‘journey’ does end with Kaskade’s Honesty, it’s more due to the different tone the San Fran chap’s soulful offering has than any duffing on the arrangement’s part; a switch of setting rather than a hiccup in the music itself.

I guess you’ve noticed I’m not really detailing Northern Faction 3 track by track. There are some songs which leap out for me, of course: the warm pads of Gavin Froome’s After The Rain; the dubby delights of Seed Organization’s Point Of Focus; the groovy bassline of Solidaze’s Dubiety. However, with most songs on here averaging the four-to-five minute mark and rarely adhering to easily-described song structure (unless you’re a jazz expert ...which frankly I’m not ...and nor are many of our readers I’d wager), it would be a waste of time to even attempt song-to-song analysis.

And really, that’s not what this compilation is designed to do. Sure, you can marvel at some of the individual bits and pieces throughout but, as with any ace downtempo release out there, Northern Faction 3 works best when played as a single whole, from start to finish. I recommend you do as such, should you ever stumble across this release in whatever tiny Canadian town you’re backpacking through.

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

Lab 4 - None Of Us Are Saints (Original TC Review)

Resist Music: 2006

(2014 Update:
I'll keep this short, because Lord knows this old review's too long as it is - the upcoming Northern Exposure reviews will have fewer words combined than what I spent detailing this album with.

So, how awesome is it that Lab 4 went out as they did, eh? Legacy intact, no cringe-worthy bandwagon jumps, forever maintained as one of the UK's most fondly remembered live hard-dance acts. Both members still play out at occasional solo gigs, but the Lab 4 mystique remains as solid as ever. That's how you do it in this business, friends, though a reunion tour in a couple more years wouldn't hurt no one, nosiree I says.)


IN BRIEF: A dark light in the realms of hard dance.

It’s been a long time since I willingly dove into any modern hard dance music. As I’m sure many previous reviews [at TranceCritic] can attest to, the reason for this is simple: a lot of it isn’t any good. Many producers have such a hard-on over pushing the ‘loud’ factor to extremes with all this new technology, they seem to have forgotten how to actually write anything other than a massive breakdown/build with tuneless screeching synths bookended by throbbing beats. Granted, hardcore never was about subtlety, but at least the hooks were memorable back in the day. When not pillaging old tunes for inspiration, everything sounds like toss-offs for DJs lately.

But perhaps my impressions of this music are due to what’s been handed to me to review, an admittedly lackluster bunch of DJ mixes and singles. Perhaps my recent distaste for it would be cured, or at least lessened, were I to hear a better offering. Perhaps what I need is a familiar trusted name to ease me back into the fold. Enter Lab 4.

Adam Newman and Les Elston harken back to an era when live PAs ruled the roost and the DJ merely warmed them up. And despite the glorification of the guy who just plays records since, Lab 4 have held their own as a live act. Their continued domination of the UK’s hard dance circuits lies in their uncompromising blend of aggressive synths and devastating beats. Yet, unlike many hard dance acts, Lab 4 have also managed to keep from falling into self-parody; their tracks will often push you to the threshold but rarely to idiotic extremes, no easy feat in a scene where the phrase ‘less is more’ is blasphemy.

So what kind of hard dance does a pair of gearheads produce? Why, anything that comes to mind obviously. And instead of playing favorites to a particular scene, Lab 4 instead aim to give you a taste of everything. The result is two discs worth of music, which begs a question: is there enough diversity in the hard dance realm to maintain one’s interest for nearly one-hundred sixty minutes? Well, your typical hardstyle fanboy will yell, “Fuck yeah ”, but their idea of diverse tracks ends with two different notes in an eight-bar synth riff. What about those with a more discerning taste?

Just enough. Each disc wisely mixes the tracks between techno stompers and hardcore bosh-fests instead of separating the two, which keeps things from sounding too repetitive (and believe me, it can get very repetitive fast). Also, Lab 4 doesn’t settle for just a couple genres of hard dance; every track has a unique twist that helps it stand out from the rest. But before we talk about those, let’s check out the opener of each disc, both of which are breakbeat!

Well, Restless World is only half breakbeat before settling into standard hard house. This one’s not all that good, mainly for the fact two singing divas clash horribly like a bad mash-up. The Syndicate though, now that’s some tasty action-movie big beat there.

Alright then. The techno. Unfortunately, this is all over the map. Lab 4 decide the best route for this material is in mechanical sounds, which has always been techno’s playground. However, their choice of sounds isn’t terribly interesting. At best, they’ll have some quirkiness to them that’ll intrigue (The Ritual and Use The Nitro are good examples) but at worst, they come across like weak Plastikman impressions (the god awful Nightmare). Mainly though, when the rhythms are showing some cleverness aside from straight-forward plodding (Use The Nitro in particular actually comes across rather funky given the surroundings), these techno cuts are decent enough.

Some of them also make use of chunky acid assaults. Now, normally I’m all for acid tweakege, but Lab 4 don’t quite go for the jugular as we’ve known they have in the past. Tracks like Daisy Cutter and Blackstar aren’t nearly as exciting as they could be, but that could also be due to rote rhythms in those tracks (although Blackstar does have a decent, albeit unassuming, bassline). And what exactly were they shooting for in Efini? What a mess that one turned out.

Ultimately though, we’re here to hear some big hooks and pounding beats. On this front, our intrepid duo doesn’t disappoint. Some may be quick to lump it into the hardstyle category, but there is a very important distinction here that makes the beats oh so much better: whereas hardstyle will compress the effects on their kicks so much that it punches you in the gut and creates zero resonance, Lab 4 let that resonance carry to huge levels. When they unleash their thunderous kicks, Lab 4 can make even the smallest stereo sound as big as any stadium; loud and enveloping. As for your hooks, they certainly are big and noisy for all to enjoy, but there are a few stumbles at points as well.

To get it out of the way, here’s my one gripe: some of these breakdowns go on for too bloody long. Mind, I’m not talking about Scot Project levels of idiocy, but whenever Lab 4 dawdle in a breakdown to let synths play with big pauses, it kills the momentum of the track. Neu Messiah is a particular annoying example of this, mainly because the payoff just doesn’t live up to all that downtime. In other tracks like 4 Those About 2 and Pump It, it’s just enough, but nothing to get terribly excited about, especially compared to what else is on here.

Ah, yes. With all the rudimentary material out of the way, we finally, we get to the goods... almost (Hah! How’s this for Scot Project levels of teasing, eh?). First off, I must mention the Guilty Pleasures of these hard tracks. Hellboy: once again proving apocalyptic choirs and hardcore beats go wonderfully together. The NRG: unabashedly reach-for-the-lasers trancecore; normally I hate this stuff but as a one-off here, sure what the hell. The Uprising: rabble-rousing hooligan fun. Alright, now I will get to the goods.

Let’s face it. When Lab 4 step up to the plate for hard dance of this caliber, you’re guaranteed a home-run; a tomahawk jam; a spin-o-rama deke backhander into the top corner of the net gloveside. Their choice of hooks and synths are frighteningly aggressive, which goes incredibly well with their chaotic arrangements. You feel you’re on a roller-coaster to Hell, with the wheels just barely clinging to the tracks as you freewheel into the pit. Gangstah, Invaderz, and the new mixes of Groove Overdrive and Requiem all deliver on these fronts. Oh, and yes, their cover (remix?) of the Nine Inch Nails track Perfect Drug.

This track shows just how good these guys are at what they do. On paper, Perfect Drug is filled with ingredients that have made me despise hardstyle as of late: typical hardstyle beats (it still carries resonance, but it certainly is far more compressed than most of the other tracks); that stupid synth that sounds like screeching tires; a hook that isn’t their own. However, once all the establishing elements sort themselves out and things get down to business, this track absolutely destroys my cynicism towards this stuff. After all, if you’re going to go hard, why not unleash everything you got, mother-fucking breakbeats and all.

Of the two remixes of Perfect Drug included here, Nightbreed’s is a functional jungle go in the Dieselboy vein. DJ Starscream’s remix is delightfully demented though. Big throbbing beats and glitchy tuneless effects make up the bulk, occasionally teasing you with the chorus until he finally gives you what you’re craving (both at the same time) at the very end. Add this one to the Guilty Pleasure list.

I’m sure all the hardstyle fanboys out there are thinking they’ve managed to ‘win one’ for their side after all the nice things I’ve had to say about None Of Us Are Saints, but I’d hold off on that parade just yet. Lab 4 is undoubtedly one of the premier acts in the hard dance scene... or at least they used to be. It would seem the duo has decided to take an indefinite hiatus from touring and producing, and they do deserve a well-earned break after all this time. Unfortunately, it does create an uncertain void out there, one of which may be difficult to fill. Are there any acts out there willing to step up their game and meet the challenge? Maybe, maybe not. If not though, their absence will be felt.

Although this release may not be consistent all the way through (very few double albums are, to be honest), when they are on their game Lab 4 show why they will be missed. Too few hard dance acts manage to balance reckless assaults with enduring hooks anymore, and that scene has suffered as a result. Sure, the new kiddies still get their kicks with the new stuff, but Newman and Elston give us ‘older’ folks (we’re talkin’ late 20s/early 30's, heh) something to satisfy our craniums while boshing away.

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

Various - FabricLive.31: The Glimmers

Fabric: 2006

*cover art brought to you by FabricLive's “ARTIST IN BIG FUCKING LETTERS” period*

The FabricLive series features quite a few acts I’m very familiar with. Due to the proliferation of breaks and jungle DJs, I’ve probably seen a good third of them, those scenes holding strong in various spots of the backdoors of British Columbia, especially so the Shambhala Music Festival. The 'party-in-the-mountains' boasts a vibrant jungle and breaks contingent, and were even early adopters of dubstep when that genre had barely begun its exodus from the UK. Plump DJs, Adam Freeland, Freestylers, Stanton Warriors, Diplo, Andy C, DJ Craze, A-Trak, Drop The Lime, and even all the way up to the latest (lambasted) FabricLive contributors Jack Beats, I’ve had the chance to check out live.

Then there’s a duo like The Glimmers. I’d never heard of these guys before, and upon reading their bio, I feel right stupid for not knowing them. Formerly the Glimmer Twins (re: Mick Jagger and Keith Richards nicknames), David Fouquaert and Mo Becha picked up the DJ trade nearly thirty years ago, playing out at Belgium clubs before raves were even a glint in the UK’s dilated eyes. Their accomplishments were relatively humble throughout the ‘90s, never seeking the spotlight but always in the mix of things within clubland, offering a funky, soulful alternative to rave’s blistering energy or eurodance’s camp. As their tracklists often contained unsung ‘80s hip-hop, rare dub reggae, and ‘70s French disco, some PR guy must have noticed how marketable such proper retro vibes were once such ‘anything goes’ mixtapey mixes grew in popularity at the turn of the century. Suddenly The Glimmers were releasing singles, LPs, DJ mixes (including one for DJ-Kicks a year prior to FabricLive.31 - how did I miss these guys!?), and receiving plenty of deserving spotlight.

Unsurprisingly for a duo influenced by the early days disco and glam, their set runs through plenty of tunes from names recognizable (Roxy Music, Freddie Mercury, Howie B.) to wacky obscure (Arpadys); from upfront disco funk (LCD Soundsystem Disco Infiltrator, their own Kobe’s In Columbia) to ancient oddities (psych-rock fuzz jam Pierre Henry); and we can’t forget those curious trainspotter’s classics either (George Kranz’ Din Daa Daa, The League Unlimited Orchestra’s Things That Dreams Are Made Of).

With all these eclectic tunes and genres, why The Glimmers must be DJ gods to make it all flow smoothly together! Ah, no, not really. Well over half these tracks are pre-‘90s, and as any DJ worth their needles will tell you, beatmatching records from those days is nothing but headaches. Instead, we get quick crossfades, intermittent ka-lumping phrasing, and songs that outright end with a half-breath of space before the next start. There’s just no simple way of segueing disco punk into reggae dub, is there.

Was This Worth The Pennies Paid For It?
I’m a sucker for mixtape sets unearthing the past as The Glimmers do here. Chalk up another steal for the money spent.

Various - fabric 31: Marco Carola

Fabric: 2006

*cover art brought to you by fabric’s “Tacky Fifties Family Photos” period*

Seeing Marco Carola’s name among all these cheap fabrics gave me a sense of familiarity I couldn’t place for the longest time. You know that feeling, where you just recognize something from somewhere, but only in passing, so you never give it much thought. Mr. Carola kicked that sentiment into high-gear, such that I was looking forward to hearing his mix. It had to be treated properly too, with no background checks that might create preconceived notions or hints of why he seemed so familiar. I’d figure it out as soon as I hit “Play” on my DVD/CD machine, a succulent, solvable mystery guided by music.

Minimal music. Eeeehhh…………

Almost within the first minute of opener Io from Matt John, I remembered. Those flat rhythms, gimmicky echoes on hi-hats, spacious sound design, bleepy bits and dry sterility… he’s been billed with Loco Dice a bunch, hasn’t he. No, more than that, he’d even signed to Hawtin’s M_nus, lock-stepping into the label’s brand of formless minimal techno. And fabric 31’s from late 2006, so it’s gonna be one of those minimal techno mixes, isn’t it.

Yeah. I had some early hopes it wouldn’t turn into the monotonous gob that rendered so much techno unlistenable during this era, as Marco offers some decent groove with the first few tracks. In fact, Gabriel Ananda’s remix of Marek Bois’ You Got Good Ash is damn near funky, in that low grumbling, bassy way tech-house can go. Following it with an actual stomper (Fusiphorm’s I Am… You!), and you’d be convinced too that minimal was good music.

But nay, the set goes into dull, plodding, plonky, effects wank right after, and pretty much stays there for the duration. How dare you think minimal techno could be funky and fun. What’s that, you like melody? AH-hahaah! You naive nonce, this are serious minimal techno. Go listen to drone ambient if you want melody. Instead, marvel at rhythms that encourage a slight shoulder shuffle, and fuck anything else. There’s occasional teases that we might get something better (an actual melody emerges in Ernie’s Escarabajos near the end), but don’t get comfortable, as Marco takes everything back to square, tedious base level with each track.

As it turns out, Caralo’s generated a share of flack in recent years for his chosen sound, and at first I thought that was where I’d heard his name before - a typical namedrop of minimal’s worst tendencies once the backlash began in earnest. After digging into his discography a little deeper though, the final piece clicked. He’d been one of Italy’s prime providers of tough, bangin’ techno at the turn of the century, a veritable leader of that kick-ass scene. Knowing his awesome roots makes fabric 31, his debut DJ mix CD no less, even more wretched - a blatant bandwagon jump that offers nothing of lasting substance in return.

Was This Worth The Pennies Paid For It?
Fuck no.

Various - fabric 30: Rub-N-Tug

Fabric: 2006

*cover art brought to you by fabric’s “Lensed Deformity Photography” period*

Either I'm getting ridiculously lucky in this year's “Fabric On A Budget” venture, or some folks out there just don't have good taste. Why would anyone want rid of a mix CD as good as this one? For sure a DJ duo fancying them Rub-N-Tug doesn't bode well for those judging acts by name alone – it sounds like some tacky massage parlour in New York City's seedier neighbourhoods. Eh, what's that about them? Oh.

Rub-N-Tug is Thomas Bullock and Eric Duncan, two New Yorkers who played the after party circuit for a number of years during the region's post-Giuliani nightlife recession. This primarily meant small enclaves and lofts above massage parlours, earning their gigs the reputation of being ultra-hip and only for those in-the-know. It also helped if you were up for an 'anything house goes' vibe, the duo simply having fun playing vinyl favorites without much care for super-technical proficiency or journey set construction; good ol' unpredictability, then. They also keep the groove relatively on the slower side, though never crossing into downtempo territory, the sort of rhythm that moves bodies without wearing folks out or pissing off the neighbours living underneath.

Since the afterhours vibe is Rub-N-Tug’s game, making a mix CD for home listening isn’t much of a stretch for ‘em. I’m surprised Lord Discogs lists fabric 30 as their first one, American DJs often needing a couple releases under their belt before a UK label comes a-knockin’ – maybe a Fabric promoter went to one of their after-parties. The names on here run the gamut from familiar (Röyksopp, Claude VonStroke, Ewan Pearson, Âme, Marshall Jefferson, Black Strobe, Serge Santiago, Satoshi Tomiie) to obscure (Nemesi, Rufass, Foolish & Sly, Unknown Artist). Even judging by those recognizable acts, one can tell we’re dealing with an eclectic collection of tunes. House (both deep and tech, but thankfully not deep-tech), disco funk, a touch of the disco punk (it is New York City, after all), and smattering of space-synthy electro-house (ooh, Discopolis from Lifelike & Kris Menace is one fun little anthem at the end).

As a technical set, fabric 30’s unimpressive, most mixes functional and Rub-N-Tug forgoing any sort of journey for long. Of course, that’s how most afterhours mixes play out anyway, DJs free to rinse out records as they see fit. Bullock and Duncan deserve credit, then, for keeping fabric 30 as tightly flowing as they do, considering they aimed at capturing their post-party vibe in but sixteen tracks. The twists they do throw in serve as spice for an already smooth-tasting mix.

Was This Worth The Pennies Paid For It?
How could it not? Simmering funk, earwormy synths, deep grooves, and soul to spare. It’s a near-perfect cocktail of post-clubbing house music that never falls prey to insipid deep house clichés or vapid chill-out banality. I guess you could say fabric 30 rubbed... and tugged me in all the right ways! (eh? eh? ...*sigh*)

Stylophonic - Beatbox Show

Universal Music: 2006

Maybe I should have trusted the apathy. How could I have known, though? Despite receiving all the critical plaudits for Man Music Technology, folks generally passed by Stylophonic's first album. A few years later, ol' Stefano comes out with his sophomore offering, Beatbox Show, which seemingly everyone, including critics, passed by. Hell, I never knew of it until checking back at Lord Discogs when it came time to write the MMT review, and Stylophonic's sound won me over enough to at least keep tabs on the project. Lack of promotional power likely hurt Beatbox Show's reach, only getting a release through Universal Music in Mr. Fontana's native Italy. I wonder why Prolifica dropped him, or did he only have a one-album deal with them?

Not that it should matter who he signed to, as a great LP typically gets global recognition regardless. While it wouldn’t surprise me folks currently reading this are only now discovering Beatbox Show exists, I sadly suspect this is more than when the album first came out. If it did receive any attention, it mustn’t have been good, practically disappearing from public discourse shortly after along with most of Stefano’s career, save a few synth-pop production credits.

So the warning signs were all there that Beatbox Show would turn out a ‘shitshow’ (oh-hoho!). Maybe I should have dug around the YouTubes first, taking in a couple tracks as a sampler, hear if it was worth digging about for a proper copy. Nah, Sykonee don’t play that way, especially with ample spending cash for music these days. I went to the Amazons instead, paying whatever (< $30) prices I could find, and shipping it on over for a blind-purchase listen. It’s how I got Man Music Technology, and that turned out swimmingly! Mr. Fontana’s too talented a producer for this to turn out horrible, right?

No, wait, this was released in 2006, when everyone with a hint of electro in their sound was obligated to jump onto the post-electroclash sleaze bandwagon. It’s not a good fit for Stylophonic’s upbeat, campy charm. Every time Stefano works in those cliché scratchy, farty synths (Dancefloor, Daisyphonic, Turntable Times), it sounds hopelessly forced; a blatant attempt at co-opting Benassi’s success. Having equally forced ‘trashy’ sing-rap lyrics from ‘Dirty Kylie’ throughout doesn’t help either, her attempts at aping Peaches woefully forgettable. She’s fine when simply singing (Say What?, Losing My Mind), but as this is her only Discogs credit, I suspect she’s a studio hire forced into an unfitting role.

When Stylophonic gets back to the summery club-house vibes (Play That Music, Loving You At The Mad Club) or pays tribute to proper electro of the ‘80s (Say What?, Fresh Air), Beatbox Show retains the hooky appeal of Man Music Technology. Too often though, Stefano loses himself in drab ‘electro-trash rock’ nonsense that instantly dates this album to the mid-‘00s, vanishing within a sea of cheap Satisfaction clones. Not the end for Stylophonic I’d hoped, my friends. Not like this.

Various - min2MAX (Original TC Review)

M_nus: 2006

(2014 Update:
If this music is so minimal, then why is this review so maximal, AMIRITE!!?? Wow... I mean, just wow. How did I ever manage 1,200 words for this one? Right, a good four-hundred is spent at the start getting TranceCritic's reader-base caught up on what the whole minimal craze was about. We were just under a year late in doing so, but it needed addressing, and I was lucky enough to spot an eye-catching cover in the local HMV megastore that had a bunch of the music on it. Besides, it was a fresh stylistic movement that deserved some attention. Surely something like minimal would remain just a short-term fad though, one kept in underground, off-road events; nothing this gimmicky could endure and infest nearly every other genre and club for too long, right? Haha ha.

Ah well, 2006 was the honeymoon year, and as such saw occasional clever works being put out. There's a few on here too, but Hawtin's iron-clad manifesto of what his assembled M_nus roster should sound like is incredibly apparent on this compilation. While Magda, Wink, and Heartthrob break free of his shackles, it's apparent the rest struggled to meet his standards, coming out with relatively forgotten works now. Except that JPLS track - its suckiness is forever burned upon my poor ears.)


IN BRIEF: More than meets the ear.

Now here’s a style of music that’s sparked some debate. Minimal techno, in all its unassuming-yet-pretentious history, has dug deeper trenches in the Genre Wars than nearly any other genre out there. By listening and even getting something out of minimal, you’re considered far more cultured in music than the commoners of the pop world; a worthy gauge to test your sonic intellect. If you can’t comprehend it, then you simply must be a simpleton, so why not just go scurry on back to your Scooter albums, Junior, while the grown-ups enjoy their forward-thinking music.

Truthfully, the minimal crowds have a point when they make such outlandish claims. This music is not going to hold your hand and lead you to insta-melodies or pummeling percussion. Instead, it demands your undivided attention to pick out its nuances; those with short-attention spans need not apply. A slight change in pitch or rhythmic variation can have the same impact as a sputtering synth in epic trance or roaring bassline in jungle. This is music mostly for the head rather than the body or soul.

Of course, there’s always the trap of trying to be too clever, and this is often where minimal stumbles with a casual fanbase. Like other kinds of head music (psy dub, nu-jazz, drone), the old cliché of ‘rewards paying attention’ is suited, but minimal has the annoying habit of never anteing up such a reward. Too often what you hear is what you get, and this can be frustrating for those who want something out of the music they listen to, even if it’s subtle.

Richie Hawtin has bridged the gap between party hedonism and stubborn pretensions better than anyone, and has become the poster boy for minimal’s mission to bring a sense of class back to clubland without losing the fun along the way. I can’t say for sure whether he’s succeeding or not, but hanging out with Sven Väth certainly seems to have lightened up the Windsor native. In the process, Plastikman has gone ahead and started a label, Minus, promoting his manifesto.

min2MAX showcases a bevy of Minus producers, each giving us their take on the minimal sound. I suppose if you’re new to this music, such an idea sounds frightfully dull. Who has the time to sit through an entire compilation of minute beats and sound? Actually, further listening on min2MAX revels a decent amount of diversity within minimal’s structure.

Heartthrob’s Baby Kate gets this show on the road with a simple groover as bleepy sounds and bouncy bass bobble about. It’s all very subtle sounding, but bits of volume tweaks and reverb tricks do keep things ever-shifting. Similarly, follow-up Scatter from Gaiser pulls the same stunt on its percussion while a deep bassline grumbles about and sparse, static sounds do weird things in the background. Listening to these, it’s pretty apparent these tracks are more interested in creating atmosphere than anything else. In this, it does succeed, but your enjoyment of it will probably stem from whether you like mechanical mood music.

However, even mood music can use some melodic substance at times, and Magda gives us it with Staring Contest. Yeah, the rhythms are slight, and there still aren’t any major hooks to be had, but with twinkling sounds echoing in the background, there’s still an air of benevolence to be had. It’s the kind of stuff you might expect to hear on a Drexciya release, as it contains that ‘underwater resonance’ the group was known for. Of course, it also helps Magda has crafted a rhythm that is actually rather funky for something so minimal.

Unfortunately, Konrad Black’s offering here shows what’s so wrong with this genre. You get some bobbling bass sounds and sparse rhythms, and that’s it for the duration. Sure, a couple effects or percussion switch-ups occur at points, but none of which do anything remotely interesting, causing the track to loop along uneventfully. At least Troy Pierce’s GVRL retains some of that lost interest with an acidy bassline that’s nicely tweaked as it loops, all the while bleepy sound effects and better percussion fill in the surroundings. It’s still not terribly enduring, but a better effort in creating some of that moody atmosphere that was apparent early in this compilation.

Now here’s an individual that’s made the most out of the least. Wink’s Higher State from back in the 90s was pretty much just a funky electro beat, time-stretched vocals, and an acid line that got tweaked and distorted like a rockin’ guitar solo. So what’s he got in store for us here? Maintaining min2MAX’s theme, it seems. Have To Get Back is yet another dark, moody excursion into minimal sounds and layered loops. However, Wink does keep the tension on a continuous climb, letting layers overlap each other with increasing frequency. Eventually, some danceable tribal rhythms make an appearance via distorted percussion, but it never erupts the way you might hope the name Wink would lead you to believe. Still, it’s an interesting track while it lasts.

Marc Houle and Niederflur provide a ‘minimal-at-opposite-ends’ segment with these next two tracks. The former’s kind of similar to Pierce’s go, with a wobbly acid bassline and housey rhythms that groove you as plinky electronic noises work their way around them; probably the most energetic song thus far (although that isn’t saying much). Meanwhile, z.B. goes the other way, getting as minimal as minimal gets. The bassline is a mere pulse, synth stabs break the gloom infrequently, and clicky noises worm about, creating a rather choking atmosphere. Actually, this is closer to dub techno than minimal, but the two aren’t that dissimilar when you break them down. Is it any good though? Not bad at all, provided you don’t get distracted from all the yummy mechanical resonance. Yeah, yeah... I likes me some dubby resonance.

“But enough with all this dark, moody, serious stuff,” you say. “Can’t minimal get its head out of its ass long enough to at least have a sense of humour?” Look no further than Tractile’s Unquenchable then. The sounds used here, plinky-plonky electronic stuff sounding like some sort of dwarf-sized factory, end up taking a goofier slant on things compared to what we’ve heard so far, and it’s certainly a welcome relief to see some fun injected into this compilation, even if it’s only just this once.

With that out of the way, min2MAX gets back to business as usual for the final stretch, with two good tracks of groovey, deep techno sounds (Victoria Station and Orchidee), and an utterly horrible track lodged between the two of them. Seriously, this... Twilite 7; what on Earth is this? It takes the plinky-plonk sounds of Unquenchable and puts them in the sparse production of z.B., with none of the charm of either. It shows off everything that minimal gets mocked about in spades, and is an unfortunate blemish on a rather decent compilation in general.

Yeah, this is a decent compilation, and I’m sure fans of this stuff will love it. The bigger question, though, is whether there’s enough substance here to sway the anti-minimal crowd to switch sides. Frankly, it all depends on whether you buy into the agenda min2MAX sets out to accomplish. As mentioned, the music on here is more for your mood rather than to make you move; it’s far better suited to sitting back and listening to despite a few booty-shakin’ worthy moments. Although I’m not a big indulger of the minimal sounds of techno, I have to admit I still found myself occasionally getting lost in the murky atmosphere of these tracks.

min2MAX gives a suitable balance of sounds for the curious. If you want to hear what the fuss regarding minimal is, this is a safe purchase.