Various - Fabric 44: John Tejada

Fabric: 2008

I've sure come a long way around to finally spot some shine on John Tejada. Dude's been in the game for over two decades (lot's of dudes like that at this point), and have even come across him in a couple random Balance sets over the years. More recently,contributed to the resuscitated Cottage Industries series, but I know I've seen his name plenty from dang near every corner of clubland. So it goes when you're a producer having releases on such Very Important labels like Kompakt, Poker Flat Recordings, 7th City, Touched, and oodles more. The usual assortment of tech-house luminaries have rinsed out his tunes, but Mr. Tejada's works have even found their way into David F'n Guetta's mixes (of course it'd be a track called Sweat (On The Walls) ...that's gotta' be a CB4 reference, right?). You can imagine, then, my slight disconnect associating ol' John with the worst of mid-'00s electro-sleaze while also thinking him more in line of melodic IDM wonks like Plaid.

I shouldn't be thinking of his more modern works though (or some of his pre-Poker Flat material, for that matter), at least with regards to what he brings to the Fabric series. I'm sure he was tapped for a DJ spot based on his run of singles throughout the '00s that brought him the most prominence. Based on this set, however, I get the sense John's far more comfortable behind the producer's console rather than the turntables (or whatever software used to construct Fabric 44). I'm sure he's toured some clubs for a little extra scratch, but Lord Discogs lists this as his first real commercial mix CD - the Backstock releases were more compilations of music from his own Palette Recordings print.

Actually, I think Mr. Tejada's most cozy rinsing out his tunes, as Fabric 44 features seven tracks he had a hand in (about half-and-half solo and collab's). John's also quite the fan of Shed here, at least three more cuts featuring Mr. Pawlowitz in some fashion. Also-also, this is the sort of techno set that includes tracks with titles like WAX10001, Equalized001, M Track 1, and Huba (Plaid's 15 Years Lost Remix). Lots of 'faceless underground techno', is what I'm sayin', even if the producers involved are some of the most popular chaps around.

Cool beans, then. A real rinse-out of real techno for the real heads, right? Maybe, kinda'? I was incredibly leery at Fabric 44's start, about as bloopy minimal as this stuff could get in 2008, but things do pick up into more traditional Detroit minimal. Ah, the Berghain sound is on nigh. Overall though, this set has the feeling of Mr. Tejada just playing tracks rather than building any kind of narrative, which only furthers my assumption he's more suited as a producer than a DJ. Still, any set that includes classic Orbital (Fahrenheit 303), contemporary Spooky (Candy), and obscure Pete Namlook (!) can't be all bad.

Various - Fabric 41: Luciano

Fabric: 2008

Ah, the man who flew too close to the sun, crashing down as the trends of clubland shifted into a new decade. Actually, that's unfair, Mr. Nicolet maintaining a solid career to this day. He's simply too entrenched in the minimal tech-haus scene to fall that far, his Cadenza print too long lasting to completely fold, his Ibizan parties too well-regarded to fall out of favour. It cannot be denied though, that when I last talked about him, there was a sense he was shooting for crossover stardom, a lane many were rejecting as hubris personified. No, better to stick things out on the DJ circuit, build your fame on the Party Island, keep winning Ibizan DJ Awards in the field of tech-house over and over and over like he's Dixon at Resident Advisor. No need to indulge in artistic album expression ever again.

But nuts to all that, happening after this particular CD had come out. For sure getting tapped for Fabric 41 helped him along to that promotional period involving Tribute To The Sun, but that was still over a year away. At this point, Luciano was more frequently getting name-dropped along side Ricardo Villalobos as Very Important minimal-tech jocks with Chilean ancestry. It was a very small sample size, so quite easy to stand out in that highly specific field. I suppose releasing a record on Perlon didn't hurt either.

Regardless, we're getting the 'hot talent on the rise' Luciano here, so naturally his set hopes to capture some of the eclecticism he was getting noticed on while retaining the vibe of a live gig. He hadn't done many mix CDs before, a contribution to Soma Quality Records' Sci.Fi.Hi.Fi. series being his most prominent one prior (I'm sure he's content leaving Party New – Electro-House properly memory holed), so still in something of a feeling out process in how to put that all together. Did he pull it off?

If you like stripped but subtly vibrant style of tech-house, sure. Fabric 41 definitely has moments that remind you why this brand of 'ethnic' tech-haus was finding some ground in the latter half of the '00s. The wobbly, sleazy basslines of tunes like Getting Late from Los Updates (Luciano on the rub). The ultra-loopy deep transitional tracks that let you just get lost in the moment (Sety's Mogane, Guido Schneider & André Galluzzi's Albertino). The big obvious anthem that hadn't yet caught on as a big obvious anthem so you can't really hate on its inclusion (Johnny D's Orbitalife... gads, does that rhythm ever remain ridiculously infectious). The play at peak-time opulence, but done in a somewhat clever way (mashing M83's In Church with Julien Jabre's Jungle Beatz). The gamble on ol' school credibility by way of modern remixes (Inner City and Phuture get rubs from him and Tiefschwarz). And ooh, the 'not-trance' melodic closer, just to remind you that even though this is technically a set for the London crowds, Luciano's still an Ibizan DJ through and through.

Ra - 9th

Suntrip Records: 2008

Okay, I could have sworn Ra were super old-school goa trancers. I mean, they certainly have been around since the early years, technically forming way back in '94 (so sayeth Lord Discogs). Apparently they never released much until well after the fact though, their debut album To Sirius coming out in the year 2000. I dunno', I'm just getting some serious Mandela Effect on their name, one I thought cropped up on numerous psy trance compilations throughout the '90s. They got some tracks on the endless Goa-Head series, but not until after the turn of the millennium. Is it because they also featured on numerous Altar Records CDs, including features on that label's 'Elemental' run? That may have something to do with associating Ra with a solid compilation game, but not thinking they've had numerous albums out before then.

It's the title of this one that's got me all confuzzled, isn't it. When an artist names their record 9th, I just assume it's their ninth record. But this isn't their ninth – it's their second. Why is this called 9th, then? Maybe I should actually read the liner notes, get some insight into the inspiration for this album.

Uh huh, uh huh... Hmm, something about the 'ninth insight' required to raise one's spirit density level. Erm, why does that remind me of New Age mumbo-jumbo? Let me check double-check that... *commences with the Googling* Ah, The Celestine Prophecy. Of course it is. Well, I won't hold it against them.

Anyhow, as mentioned, Ra have been around the block for some time, a pair of Norwegians teaming up to release a resolutely ol' school goa trance album with To Sirius. This actually garnered them some positive attention, as this was in the era of psy getting very minimal, proggy, fussy... y'know, all the things that classic goa wasn't. It makes perfect sense, then, that when resolutely ol' school goa trance connoisseurs Suntrip Records were getting their stride on, Ra would be among their earliest acts to sign. Despite a slight delay, the album came out in 2008 to much... appreciation, I guess?

I personally feel 9th is a solid enough excursion into what folks were (and still are?) calling the Neo Goa sound, which Suntrip are very much proponents of: classic goa trance vibes with (then) modern production values. In a nutshell, stuff that maybe wouldn't have stood out as classic 'back in the day', but compared to the prog-psy plod and full-on fluff that was making the rounds when it came out, definitely material that stands out from the pack. Aside from an opening vocal that reminded me Snap! sans Turbo B, I very much enjoyed the tunes on 9th, but generally only as they played. Perhaps Ra's use of synth leads are a tad too subtle to really stick after. Or I'm just mentally hedging my exceptions because, got'dang, have I got a lot more Suntrip to sift through in the coming year. Could be, could be.

The Future Sound Of London - The Pulse EPs

Jumpin' & Pumpin': 2008

This has to be about it. There can't be anymore long-lost FSOL releases from way back that I haven't gotten. Officially released ones, at least. Like, there's still all that From The Archives material that they never seem to run out of, though I'm sure whatever was still in their ancient data banks has been expunged by now. No, wait, I'm seeing a recently released EP called Mental Cube (Original Recordings From 1990). Oof, of course there would be something like this floating about. And I suppose they could still gather up all their wayward single-purpose aliases into a compilation at some point. Aliases like Metropolis, Semi Real, Intelligent Communication, Art Science Technology, and Homeboy (2). Brian and Garry really were quite the busy-bodies back-when.

But no, I'm talking about straight-up, proper Future Sound Of London works, of which The Pulse EPs was where they first emerged. Indo Tribe too, if we're keeping count. And Smart Systems as well. Technically also Yage, as an artist and not a producer. Mental Cube though, that had already been around. Basically Garry and Brian finally just putting themselves and their Earthbeat sessions out there, seeing what stuck and what would be relegated to the dustbin of early rave jams. Four records emerged from this series, with a spiffy consolidation of them released when the duo were re-releasing a bunch of archival material on the 'net.

Things kicks off with, appropriately, Bring In The Pulse (MFK Mix), as Indo Tribe. Though Lord Discogs tells me this is the first instance of me having this track, it sure feels like I've already heard it, a fairly standard breakbeat-bleep track as heard out of the early UK rave scene. Maybe a lot of it was recycled into other tracks? Whatever, the first real item of note on the first Pulse EP is the first official FSOL track, which appeared nowhere else: Hardhead (Frothin' At The Mouth Mix)! It's... um... it's not like any other FSOL track you'll hear, just a rudimentary breakbeat tune with some sample play, a standard hook, and a freakin' rave whistle. Wow, and to think this alias would lead to such wonders as Cascade and My Kingdom. More representative is Pulse State, the groovy acid house number as heard on Accelerator.

Yeah, there isn't much else on The Pulse EPs that I haven't talked elsewhere, only two more tracks unique to this release within my collection. Mental Cube's I'm Not Gonna Let You Do It is a nice, simple, retro-future techno jam, but Smart System's Zip Code is little more than a standard rave bosher. Still, I love hearing Calcium again, even if in slightly edited form. In fact, there's a lot of 'slight edits' on here, a consequence of cramming four EPs onto a single CD. I think this is a better overall compilation of early FSOL material compared to Earthbeat, but it's not the whole story, and with a quarter of it re-appearing on Accelerator, a bit redundant to completists.

Olivier Orand - Human

Ultimae Records/Sidereal: 2008/2019

As I'm perusing the Sidereal shop looking to update my Solar Fields re-issues, I notice this remarkably striking bit of cover art. Holy hell, but what is this? Some sort of synthwave noir outing? Seems like a strange addition to a label primarily focused on Magnus' back-catalogue. I certainly have never heard of this Olivier Orand before, so maybe they've begun branching out a little. Sure, I'll give this a whirl.

When I fire up Discogs to Add [this CD] To [my] Collection, I'm struck by a sudden sense of recollection. One of these tracks is called Radio Bombay? I swear I've heard that before! Maybe a previous compilation? Let me Search Mr. Orand's Discography within Discogs and ...oh! This album titled Human is in fact a re-issue of Human, previously released on Ultimae Records by Hol Baumann. Wait, Hol is Olivier? Baumann is Orand? Finkle is Einhorn? What's going on?

So turns out, 'Hol Baumann' was an alias (nickname?) for Olivier, which he promptly dumped sometime in the mid-'10s. I can't find any information for the change. Some sort of finagling over legal matters? A feeling that his time with Ultimae was well in his past, so may as well carry on with his real name? Whatever the case, Mr. Baumann are no more, and Mr. Orand now... is.

This is also fortuitous in my case, as Human is one of the few Ultimae records I never picked up. It wasn't for a lack of opportunity, mind you, seeing it available in the label's shop long after much of their back-catalogue went out of print. For whatever reason though, I was never compelled to nab it while I had the chance, and I assume that was the case with a lot of Ultimae followers. Which had to suck just a little for one of the label's longest contributors to their series of compilations.

Anyhow, this Human is slightly different from the older Human, in that four tracks have been added (Varanasi, Handwritten Notes, Scala, Final), and one removed (Bénarès (Vârânaçî Edit)). Also, the final sequence has been rejiggered, five minutes of silence following A Forgotten Ritual jettisoned in favour of two added tracks.

Now that I have taken in Human proper-like, I cannot deny feeling a little disappointed in not giving it a chance sooner. While maybe not as God-tier as some of Ultimae's all-stars, Olivier's offering is a darn fine outing of clicky-glitchy world beat psy-dub. Even if the beatcraft and sample splicing does create something of a plastic sheen to the production, it's never too over-indulgent in effects wankery to be distracting. And when Mr. Orand goes for an opulent climax, it's easily on par with the best of what Ultimae offered at the time. The only real drawback to Human is the lack of anything immediately earwormy, perhaps doing more than what the brain can firmly latch onto long-term. Still, a nifty ride of various sounds and sonic soup while it plays.

Lucette Bourdin - Ancient Memories

Dark Duck Records/Fantasy Enhancing: 2008/2021

So I got a box of Bourdin.

And you may ask, who is Lucette Bourdin, such that she should have a multi-CD box-set of her music released? Despite having a sizable discography, her music didn't have much presence upon the ambient world. According to Lord Discogs, even her most 'popular' albums only have an average of twenty owners, and seldom branched beyond Earth Mantra and Dark Duck Records (itself a rather obscure print where Stephen Philips releases the bulk of his music). For all intents, it was Lucette's paintings that brought her the most attention, her music more an extension of that.

Someone down at Fantasy Enhancing must be a fan though (it's Lee, isn't it), hence a massive Retrospective Box Set (2005 – 2017) collection. I can't say I was initially interested in springing for it, but some Bandcamp deals came down the line, and I had some spare money to spend (Narrator: he didn't, he really didn't!). And as with that Harold Budd box-set, I'll be reviewing Every. Single. Album in this collection as they come up in my alphabetical queue, starting with this here Ancient Memories.

And now I'm at a bit of a loss in how to approach this. Yeah, Lucette is primarily an ambient composer, so there probably isn't going to be that much variation from album to album. There's gotta be some though, and would serve me well in hearing her development over the years if I'm going to review all of them. Still, listen to all twenty discs, just to get a base of comparison? Who's got time for that? Guess I'll just wing 'em as they come.

So, Ancient Memories. This is a four-track album, with three pieces hovering around the fifteen minute mark. The first, Memories Of The Oolites (the sedimentary rocks?), almost had me worrying I might be in for an abstract, experimental outing, the sort of blippy, droning sounds often associated with such. It soon settles into gentle ambience though, soft, velvety pads gliding along for much of duration, save an occasional return to the initial abstract sounds. Memories Of Chordata (the animal phylum?), however, goes darker and mysterious, almost a pure minimalist drone piece. There is just enough harmonic timbre in the subtle pad work though, keeping it just on this side of ambient music. Memories Of Fitzroya (the Andes Mountains conifer?) is almost atonal in its rhythmic minimalism, but in a nice, calming, meditative way. Quite reminds me of Hybrid Leisureland, or other Japanese ambient composers.

As for the closer Memories Of Acoma (the ancient Pueblo region?), this piece nearly breaches the thirty minute mark. While it certainly has many different passages throughout its runtime, it's primarily performed in such a minimalist, droning matter, much of it can simply pass by without much happening. There are occasional swells, distant echoing harmonies, even rhythmic pulses. Overall, a mysterious sounding piece that moves enough to keep you engaged should you continue paying attention, but doesn't insist upon itself either.

Various - fabric 43: Metro Area

Fabric: 2008

*cover art care of fabric's “clay models on black” period*

It's been a lo-o-o-ong while since I last indulged Fabric mixes on the cheap. Too many of them resulted in minimal tech-house sets at its insufferably driest, but I've been feeling a bit nostalgic for those random chances. Plus, the series lasted well beyond that era, many changing tides of taste emerging since. Surely there's been a few in more recent years that have sunk to super-affordable prices.

Indeed there are, but I'll get to those later, for we're still in Fabric's 'early years' in this outing with Metro Area. This is actually a rather odd entry, the duo almost finished by the time this came out. Their breakout was half a decade old, and while folks had some fondness for their nu-disco jams, it didn't really spearhead a massive resurgence, clubland more enamoured by sample pilfering and filter-funkifying than anything authentic sounding. Thus Metro Area erroneously got lumped in with the 'electroclash' kids (because retro?), but despite DFA's approval, not quite fitting in with the disco punk crowds either. You could count on a track of theirs appearing on a stripped-back disco funk set, but sadly, Metro Area basically disbanded before the disco-edits scene would have made them super-stars.

Which is why seeing a Fabric mix from them in 2008 is so odd, the peak of their popularity well in the rear-view, but too soon for a nostalgic reminder. Was it because member Morgan Geist was set to release a long-awaited solo album around this time? I don't doubt it for a minute.

fabric 43 is wonderful though, in that it's a total love-letter to the music that influenced much of Metro Area's sound: the b-sides, dubs, and instrumentals of disco, funk, and garage of the early '80s. They dug deep for the unheralded, the unknown, and the unexpected. Like the Dub Mix of Ministry's Work For Love (yes, that Ministry). Or the dope bassline in Play By Number's Cloud Nine. Or the funky electro of Midway's Set It Out. Or the wiki-wiki guitar licks of Wiretap's X-Rated Man. Or the electro-pop perfection of Première Classe's Poupée Flash. Seriously, is there any music Belgian's don't excel at?

This mix is a retro trainspotter's wet dream, and Metro Area beef the production enough so things sound about as modern is they possibly could, but some outdated things simply can't be hidden. Like, good God, are the synth tones, few and far as they are, ever out of tune. They even rib on them a little in the intro, fully aware that even if the rhythms are dope, brace yourself for some woeful 'horn' sounds. Also, as we are in the early '80s, there are occasional ropy drums on display. Our guiding duo generally highlight the best parts of a given track, mixing out quickly, but you can still hear clunky echo effects here and there.

Hardly deal breakers though, fabric 43 definitely worth the pennies I paid for it.

Amon Amarth - Twilight Of The Thunder God

Metal Blade Records: 2008

Getting into Viking metal by way of bands of Ensiferum and Týr was all well and good, but I was told if I truly wanted more than just a poseur-bluffer's collection, I needed to get some Amon Amarth. Okay, wasn't so much 'told', but generally gleaned from discussions on the subject matter. Makes sense though, the Swedish death metal band having been among the earliest to incorporate Norsemen themes into their lyrics. Not the earliest, mind, which would probably be Bathory, but early enough that they're frequently name-dropped as giving it enough credibility that others could follow. They've also toured with death metal elite (Slayer, Cannibal Corpse ...Goatwhore?), so I feel I'm in good hands checking these guys out.

And according to Sputnikmusic, my always reliable source for metal music discourse, this here Twilight Of The Thunder God is as good a starting point as any. Or the previous album to this, With Oden On Our Side. Heck, may as well get both, but alphabetical stipulation states this one gets reviewed first. Regardless, this period seems to have been peak Amon Amarth, so let's hear what this icon of Viking metal has on tap.

So the titular opener immediately hits with the epic guitar riffs and vicious rhythms, and I'm digging it. Then vocalist Johan Hegg starts up with those guttural death metal growls, to which I can't help but think, “Oh no! Not the Cookie Monster growls.”

I can put up with the falsetto wailing, the raspy shouting, and even some mid-range growling, but the lower the tone goes, the sillier it sounds to me, to such a point it takes me right out of whatever musical vibe I may get out of a given song. I just can't take it seriously! Granted, there are some instances where going full baritone with the death metal growls works – heck, there's examples right here on this album! In the song Tattered Banners And Bloody Flags, when Johan intones “The earth moves under our feet; The great world tree, Yggdriasil; Trembles to its roots”, you really feel that earth-shuddering rumble.

And honestly, it's not like that's the only vocal style heard on this album. Plus, once it's been worked in for a while, my brain acclimatizing to the vocal delivery, so it's no longer a turn-off. I just wish I didn't always have that initial reflexive reaction to hearing it, that I need a few songs before I'm willing to go with the guttural growls.

Vocal deliveries aside, Twilight Of The Thunder God is pretty kick-ass. I've seen Amon Amarth's style described not so much as Viking metal (which is often lumped with Folk metal), but as melodic death metal, or melodeath, just with Norse tales and mythology thrown in. Sure, I'll go with that, with equal measures of melodramatic riffage joining in with aggro-assaults. And sweet, there's even an Apocalyptica guest spot on Live For The Kill. Nothing sells 'epic' like a cello metal band!

Týr - Land

Napalm Records: 2008

I made mention in the Ensiferum reviews that non-Scandinavians finding inspiration in classic Scandinavian folklore and making metal music out of it caused a couple side-eyes. Like, how authentic can one be if your heritage places you somewhere on the other side of a continent? It's definitely a gate-keepy conversation, but perhaps necessary – Mongolian Horde metal would sound weird coming from the folks of Oghuz Turkish descent, is all I'm saying.

Fortunately, Viking metal band Týr has none of that to worry about, hailing from the Faroe Islands. A 'last stop before Iceland' archipelago, the Norse heritage runs deep with the inhabitants there, developing their own language and history as most Norse transplants were wont to do in their remote island habitats. So when these guys go on about Valkyries and adventures across the endless oceans, it's coming from an authentic source, especially since they often sing songs in Faroese, a legit descendant of Old Norse. This is turning into a historical/linguistics class, isn't it?

If you're wondering what got me so enthralled by Viking metal, it's this album right here. Hearing stuff from bands like Ensiferum and Amon Amarth only piqued my interest. Musically though, they were still following death metal tropes, what with the power chords and growling and such. Not these guys, going on more of a prog metal path, constantly changing up time signatures so to fit better with the traditional music of the Faroe Islands.

Plus, them singing in the native tongue really sells that feeling of being... Well, maybe not exactly in the era of their inspiration (no electric guitars in the 11th Century, that's for sure), but as close to immersion one can hope for in our modern clime'. It doesn't even matter I generally don't know what the lyrics are (booklet provides a handy translation, if it's important), I'm still mentally singing along as though joined in drunken celebration at a longhouse. Skipping on the death metal growls help.

Then there are the two 'epics' on Land, songs breaching the double-digit mark, and performed in English (yay, I can connect!). Holy cow, do these ever give me feels I didn't think possible from nearly any form of music. Ocean imparts the thoughts of hesitant wandering sea-faring Norsemen, reflecting upon whether a great future and glory awaits them across the unknown horizon. To take up the call of adventure, leaving all that you know behind? Or was it greed?

Well, Týr do heed that call in the titular song, lost on the endless waters in desperate search of any spot of land. And hot damn, do these guys ever sell that desperate hope, persevering in the absolute worst of conditions, the human spirit indomitable in the face of all that the Gods can throw at you. When they sing “Sail with me across the raging sea; Write your tale into eternity”, I'm ready to throw myself into the nearest knörr in search of Vinland! Oh, wait, I already live there, technically.

Lowfish - Frozen & Broken

Noise Factory Records: 2008

So I went on a Suction Records mini-splurge. We have that Tangent 2002: Disco Nouveau compilation to thank for that, reinvigorating my interest in their associated artists. Turns out a couple of them, Solvent and Lowfish, had their own label going, though essentially folded by 2007. They went in different directions for a while, realized that wasn't doing much for them, so dusted off the print for a relaunch. Over a decade later and Suction Records is still going... I don't want to say 'strong', as its mostly just a half-dozen acts releasing material every couple years. They're consistent though, with enough albums available that a mini-splurge on their Bandcamp isn't difficult.

What's funny is this particular album I got from Lowfish wasn't even released on Suction Records, despite currently being available through them. Nay, this record came out on Noise Factory Records, one of the prints Mr. de Rocher went with during Suction's time in abeyance. Frozen & Broken was the last release on Noise Factory, which I'm sure helped convince Lowfish to get the old Suction team back together with Solvent.

Right, what exactly is the deal with Lowfish, then? I honestly know very little about him (especially since Lord Discogs is scant on details), having only come across his music twice in the wilderness. The second was Tangent 2002, but the first on Turbo Studio Sessions Vol. 3, featured among such 'electroclash' stars like Tiga, Chromeo, LCD Soundsystem, and Scissor Sisters. Yeah, yeah, I know, none of them are 'electroclash', but that was the thing at the time, and they all got lumped into it as that thing together, including Lowfish. He dates further back than that though, releasing vaguely electro tracks with an IDM bent. Think early Warp Records, with a heavier emphasis on Detroit lineage. After time, his tunes started going more pure electro and synth-poppy (thanks, 'electroclash'!), while never losing that pure fetishism with robotik muzik.

The album opens with Things Fall Apart, and it's the tasty electro I was expecting going in, then the titular follow-up comes on, and I'm struck by how steady this beat is. And this happens in a couple more tracks throughout (Lies, Claustrophobe) which got me wondering, gosh, what genre is this? You might think techno, but they're kinda' bouncy, bumpin', reminding me of when Vector Lovers would get his proper groove on. It's like, electro, and house, at the same time. What, electro house? No, it can't be that, whatever that was tagged 'electro house' in 2008 something vastly different than what this sounds like, this real merging of electro and house. Ah, just call it tech-house and call it a day.

Anyhow, the rest of Frozen & Broken features plenty of stripped-back electro with mechanical broken-beats and moody futurism. A couple tracks even sound sentimental (Knives gets me such feels despite the aggro bassline deployed), but nothing that will throw you for a techno-loop. Lowfish's style remained retro and unfussy, which is just how electro purists prefer it.

Kevin Yost & Peter Funk - BeatKilla: 2

i! Records: 2008/2015

I'm feeling a little stupid right now, but... Kevin Yost is also Peter Funk? Like, I know for certain Kevin Yost exists, as I've done a retrospective on that chap's work. Somehow I got it in my mind that Peter Funk was a separate entity, perhaps a collaborator who'd bring in some proper jazz solos to supplement Kevin's deep, deep, smooth house grooves. It never once occurred to me that I should, y'know, click on that 'Peter Funk' link within Lord Discogs' archives, just to see what his story is. Couldn't escape it with this BeatKilla series though, getting equal billing with Kevin on the cover and all. So follow the 'Peter Funk' link I did, and there's a healthy assortment of singles, plus also has an alias of... Kevin Yost? Wait a minute..! Peter is Kevin? Kevin is Peter? Finkle is Einhorn? That... actually explains a lot!

Okay, it doesn't explain much of anything, this revelation not really some great industry secret. I just assumed a thing, the Lord That Knows All showed me I was incorrect, and now I know better. *a shining light from heavens glows down, angelic music is heard* It's not unheard of producers to create multiple aliases, and to 'collaborate' with their aliases. I guess since Kevin's most successful pairing is with Funk (hah!), he essentially merged the two into a proper, singular alias of Kevin Yost & Peter Funk. At least for the purposes of these BeatKillas.

And whatever is BeatKilla? A series of singles Kevin Funk released throughout the '00s, is what. Lot's of them, in fact, so much so that he consolidated them into not one, not two, not three, not four ...okay, three compilations. I picked the second volume of these for the sole reason of there being a cute pooch on the cover art. Aww, just look at him, ain't he a darlin'? Who's the pweshus beatkilla'? You are, you are!

Unfortunately, while these tunes may be dubbed 'beatkilla's, they kinda' lack much in the way of thrilla's. Not that I should have expected it, Peter Yost forever (and a day) a deep house guy through and through. Even if few of the techier tracks in this collection leaped out at me as highlights within his larger discography, they still served their purpose in providing that unmistakable smooth, ridin' groove with occasional flourishes of jazzy solos. Also, a fair bit of tribal drumming too, popping up at weird points throughout this mix.

Yeah, as a DJ set, BeatKilla 2 is only functional at best, keeping the vibe moving while showcasing tunes, but not so concerned with rising tension and all that rot. Yet they fit far better together than as separate entities, the Bandcamp version of this only supplying the unmixed tracks, with all the lengthy DJ-friendly intros and outros you can handle. Why the digital release didn't also include a the mix CD too, I haven't a clue. It was done for his best of Fundamentals, after all.

Various - Balance 013: SOS

EQ Recordings: 2008

Thirteen volumes deep, and the Balance series came full circle. Or looped around. Reached into its past. Had its first instance of a returning DJ, is what I'm getting at. This time though, he's with two other chaps as a super-group (before being in a super-group was cool). In a more subtle sense, Balance 013 brings in Omid '16B' Nourizadeh for the first time. You might recall I've come into contact with him via his Changing Shape alias, the track Keep It On opening Bill Hamel's contribution to the Nokturnel Mix Sessions series. And Bill Hamel did the third volume of the Balance series! Which means... which means... I could really go for a side of bacon in my next breakfast.

The inlay blurb (and Discogs entry) has quite the lengthy spiel of positive hyperbole regarding Omid, Desyn, and Demi's impact upon the clubbing scene. As I look back upon those heady years of the late '00s, however, I fail recalling anything of the collective called SOS. Maybe it was mostly in the UK and Europe they did their damage, the cross-Atlantic markets denied their tours. Still, as with Deysen's own career, SOS seemed to have disappeared from the Discoggian archives as the 2010s took hold. Not that there was much prior either, but when clubbing culture became all about the super-group DJ squads, I can't imagine SOS stood out from the pack as much anymore.

Still, compared to some of the Balance sets of the period (*cough-012-cough*), this has held up quite well. It's not a brilliant 3CD set by any stretch, and would likely be poo-poo'd out of Very Important critical discussion compared to the series' follow-ups. Very little feels dated though, tunes that knew exactly what they were aiming for, with DJs deploying them in an efficient manner.

Well, maybe not so much CD1. Clearly meant to be the 'chill-out' set, this one's too scattershot to accomplish its goal. Yeah, I like hearing Speedy J's De-Orbit and Bryan Ferry's Don't Stop The Dance, but in cramming the variety they do with competing visions, it comes off rather aimless and jumbled. Stick to the dancefloors, mates.

So they do, CDs two and three riding things out with acid house, Balearic prog, spacey disco, beefy breakbeats, and Aeroplane. Someone in SOS sure loves them some Aeroplane. About the only time things go super hands-in-the-air is with Michael Cassette's Shadow's Movement, but their retro sounds are charming enough for an anthem, so I'll allow it.

As much as I grooved to these sets though, I can't say they often got me excited either. It could just be the three-disc format making it difficult to take in all at once, but then other 3CDers in this series don't have that problem. For better or worse, I know what each set sounded like in other Balances, whereas they blended together here. Still not sure if that's a good or bad thing, but for certain, it is a thing.

Kwook - Skywave

Blue Oasis: 2008

dataObscura began as a sister label to Databloem before branching off onto its own. Naturally, a label with such origins must produce offspring in a similar fashion, which resulted in Blue Oasis, a sister label to dataObscura. Sadly, this strange form of mitosis resulted in something of a stillborn, Blue Oasis managing but four releases before succumbing to inactivity. The first two were Anthony Kerby projects, because of course they were. A compilation called Perceived Distances also came out, but not before a third and final album under the print emerged, this here Skywave from Kwook. Still, one can find these items as dataObscura releases, rendering the original life of Blue Oasis but a mote of memory within Lord Discogs' archives.

Anyhow, Kwook. One Simon Bennett to the Perth partitioners (is that a thing?), he released his first album Unidentified Feathered Object with the early dataObscura, added a digital EP Immiscible to his catalogue, then finished off with Skywave before moving on to joining the Japanese band Wiggle (so sayeth Lord Discogs). Is... that really the same guy? There is a 'Simon' listed in the band's 'Members' blurb, but... really? Really?? There's a few more items on his Bandcamp though, so it must be so.

As is clear from the loving photo of a radio dish, Skywave is all about the love of those wonderful frequencies broadcast on the longer wavelengths of the electromagnetic spectrum, especially those as utilized by humans. As expected, there's ample use of radio static fuzz throughout this album, but it doesn't dominate, mostly relegated to sonic textures and padding for whatever musical ideas Kwook's muse takes him. A very charming, playful place, turns out, many of these tracks sounding like they could have appeared as backing scores to some old-timey PBS documentary about radio waves. And I do mean old, clear influences from the '70s synth wizards on display (you know the namedrops).

Some pieces have a sense of awe about them (Stationary Waves, Aurora, Deep Space Receiver), some dance about like a chipper waltz (Heterodyne, Calling All Stations 2), while others cozy close to the domain of ambient techno (Sunspots, Signal To Noise, the latter entirely too short).

Then things get conceptually interesting, a three-part titular minimalist closer that explores some of the stranger sounds one might discover on some bandwidths. It rather reminds me of Gas 0095 in its singular fascination for the scientifically minute, with calming ambient melodies to match that focus. There's quite the glowing write-up in the liner notes about some of these things, among them recordings of “numbers stations”.

These strange transmissions have long been suspected to be cryptic codes for spy networks, some broadcasting instructions for agents no longer even in service. In fact, some may be automated hold-outs relaying numbers from cut-off bunkers without every catching up on modern times, like World War II Japanese soldiers stationed on lonesome islands. Yeah, probably not, but think of the alt-fiction, man!

sgnl_fltr - Exhalo

Databloem: 2008

As I perused the Databloem catalogue for a half-dozen items or so, I couldn't just rely on eye-catching cover-art for all my purchases – not every release of theirs is a shade of blue or features a picture of Saturn. Nay, sometimes good ol' name recognition does the trick, and the label has many artist names I recognize indeed. Mick Chillage, Lingua Lustra, Oophoi, Mathias Grassow, Nacht Plank, and on and on. I prefer digging a little deeper though, checking out artists I'm certain I know from somewhere, but can't quite recall. Absolutely I'm talking sgnl_fltr. Something about that name incites positive feels, but considering he's a dub techno guy, I couldn't remember where. Perhaps a Silent Season album? No, that can't be it, Mr. Kreutzfeldt essentially mothballing the project before the turn of the decade. He's since focused his efforts on Periskop, which features dark industrial dub and ...submarine noise? Ooh, bathymetric bass!

As always, The Lord That Knows All enlightened me. Turns out I first came across sgnl_fltr way back in my earliest explorations of Ultimae Records, specifically as featured in Oxycanta 2: Winter Bloom Boogaloo. The track, Waters, also earned an Ace Track nod, and I even had the audacity to call it akin to old-school trance. Compared to what passed itself as trance in the year 2007, okay, sure, but that sure was a stretch on my part way back when. Just goes to show how desperate I was to hear 'authentic proper trance' in those dire mid-'00s years. Would even accept some dub techno as a worthy substitute.

Anyhow, Exhalo was the album sgnl_fltr released after that Ultimae appearance, so seems appropriate I'd end up stumbling upon it after the fact. Would likely have been the album I'd have picked up had I known there was any out there to be had. Not sure what I'd have made of it back in 2008 though, my interest in dub techno definitely on the wane at the time due to market saturation. It wasn't as bad as minimal-tech, but DeepChord left an undeniable wake of copycats after his success. Still, Mr. Kreutzfeldt had been making similar music thoughout the '00s, Exhalo his fifth to that point (he'd release another with Stadtgruen the following year), so he ridin' no coattails on this wagon, nosiree (too... many... cliches...)

I do know I'd have been initially disappointed, just because I wouldn't be expecting what I hear on Exhalo. That would have been then, however, and when I threw it on in the today-times, I quite enjoyed this, in a very low-key manner. Absolutely it's another dub techno album with some broken-beat glitch thrown in, but man, the headphone space this creates is lush. Par for the course in this genre, and certainly extensively explored this past decade. Sometimes though, you just want to get lost in endless sonic space as crunchy micro-beats with thudding bass cruise along, and Exhalo provided that right when I was ready to hear it again. Timing is everything.

Markus Schulz - Amsterdam 08 (Original TC Review)

Armada: 2008

(2019 Update:
Man, is there anything left for me to update regarding the Schulzer? I already did one of these with Ibiza 06, actually went back and surprisingly enjoyed his earlier mixes, and am pretty sure touched on all his activities of the past decade. Did I mention his mid-life crisis pairing with Ferry Corsten as New World Punx? That should be reiterated, absolutely. He did release another artist album this past year, where he poses in all white while glancing at a piano, touching a single key as though... y'know, I've no idea what sort of message that's supposed to portray. Seems either hilari-bad, or ineptly pretentious. Almost curious of what the album sounds like though, just to hear where his muse has wandered in all this time. His go at the creaky In Search Of Sunrise series too, if I'm being honest.

Most of the complaints (and faint praises) I had with this set remained intact as I replayed this. It's funny though, how without even looking at the tracklist again, I instantly knew which tracks Carl B had his fingers in. Very definition of hilari-bad eurotrance excess.)


IN BRIEF: I dub thee Side-Chain Schulz.

Are we tough on ol’ Markus Schulz? Certainly, but it’s tough-love we deliver, not spiteful rage. Whether in his distant producing past or recent remix work, we hear the potential he has to do something more with his career beyond merely pandering to the watered-down popular taste. I suppose the reason we continue to scope out his output is the hope that some of that unrealized talent surfaces again, but the returns have been ever diminishing.

His DJ releases haven’t fared much better. The last major offering, Ibiza ‘06, was a bland trudge through melodic trance mediocrity, indistinguishable from the glut and hobbled by his insistence on giving much of his label’s singles undeserved spotlight (save a couple decent tracks). Since then, the Schulzer’s career has seen something of an uptick thanks to an album [Progression] that, while still treading water, was better received than his debut [Without You Near] (probably due to expectations being sufficiently lowered after his abysmal ‘first time’). The general assumption has been Markus would capitalize on that momentum to reinvigorate his DJing career as well. After some delays denying him a proper 2007 release (to keep with the idea of an annual DJ mix), we finally have Amsterdam ‘08, where the answers to this question shall be given.

The opening of the first disc is promisingly interesting. Some pleasant sounds, laid-back rhythms, and agreeable melodies are featured here (although why is Beyond The Shadows making that out-of-sync beeping sound? Reminds my of my discman's pause feature). Glenn Morrison’s two offerings of Blue Skies With Linda and Rubberband easily steal the show: his tracks have some wonderful sounding synths on display, and the melodies he crafts are quite lovely, even if Blue Skies does draw a bit closely to over-sentimentality. Also, there is a rather lazy tone to this mix; not so much haphazard or sloppy, but more lethargic and mellow (no, not stoned... or k-holed, to be more contemporary within the current clubbing scene). Overall, it’s quite nice.

...and all downhill from there.

Rubberband makes for a great mid-set peak, but Schulz obliterates all those warm fuzzy feelings the tune leaves in its wake by following it up with one of the most abysmal sequences of tracks I’ve heard in a DJ set in some time. Rex Mundi tries some ‘piano trance’ breaks, and fails miserably in the process (break-beat rhythms should never sound this bland, my friends); Mr. White features annoyingly aggravating hookless hooks care of Ruben de Ronde’s remix; tiDi’s silly attempt at clicky minimalism screams of Schulz trying to get a piece of the ketamine crowd; and let’s not even mention the atrocious side-chaining going on in the latter two (we’ll be dealing with this abused effect in a bit anyway). The shell-shock of these three awful tracks leaves a very sour aftertaste, ruining the set’s momentum and instilling general apathy for the rest the first CD's final stretch. There’s little to mention there anyway: straight-forward trance number Azaleas from Supüer has a better-than-average hook, and Sonic Division’s If I Had Wings will turn your head since it apes the memorable chorus from 80s classic (I Just) Died In Your Arms Tonight by Cutting Crew.

Any hopes of recovery on disc two is put to rest with the opening tracks, where Schulz under aliases treats us to awful side-chaining effects. Eh, you’re not sure what side-chaining even is? Although it’s long been an attribute associated with bass kicks canceling out equal frequencies, Markus and his McProg associates have been known to apply the effect on everything from backing pads to lead synths, creating a distinctive ‘pulsing, throbbing’ sound. When handled effectively it gives tracks some decent rhythmic pump, but when handled poorly, it wrecks any sense of sonic flow with constant aural interruptions. Repeatedly hearing frequencies cutting out and springing forth at full volume can be incredibly disorientating, the audio equivalent of someone continuously zooming in and out when recording a video. Markus has been a big proponent of it, and made good use of it when it was first being championed, essentially relegating it to the background as he let the twinkly melodies McProg was derided for claim the stage. On Amsterdam '08 though, many of the pulsing synths are blatantly front-and-center, as it seems some of these producers rely heavily on it to create hooks (instead of, y’know, writing a goddamned melody rather than depend on pre-set effects doing the work). The opening of disc one avoided the problem based on the strength of melodies grabbing your attention, but from there on, and especially so on the second disc, it turns intolerable.

Seriously, CD2 is rendered practically unlistenable by how bad the side-chaining effect is abused, persisting for well over the first half and much of the second. After only three tracks it’s become a painfully predictable gimmick, where a perfectly fine eerie peak-hook in Schulz’ own Fly To Colors is ruined by unnecessarily throwing this effect on it. You can’t enjoy any of the nice synths on display when they’re constantly cutting out (and no, this does not create a ‘strobe’ effect like multi-tap delays do; more like a vertigo effect), and by the time Agnelli & Nelson’s pleasant little trancer Sleeping In Airports hits, I keep imagining I’m hearing synth throbs despite there being none, so ingrained into my psyche the pulses have been.

As for the actual music, decent moments seem few. Coldharbour’s Next Big Anthem in Forsaken will either having you reaching for the lasers or rolling your eyes, depending on your taste for cloying tunes such as these; the tech-y finish has some fine grooves in tracks like Avalon (now there’s some good use of side-chaining!), but equally cringe-worthy bits as found in More Manners Please (idiot electro-fart nonsense) and Formulation (now there’s more of that poor use of side-chaining...). Ultimately, not the greatest finish, but then given the lead-up, it isn’t that surprising.

Reading back on this, it may appear my bitching is focused mostly on technical attributes, something that really shouldn’t factor much when reviewing music. However, the very fact I’m ranting so much about it highlights one of the overlying problems, in that the music on hand either isn’t terribly interesting or is ruined by overdone pulsing-synth wank. Glenn Morrison aside, few of the melodies make a lingering impression, and the tracks that jump on current trends (nu-electro farts; minimal clicks) are quite forgettable. Seeing as how Markus’ commercial sets are as much a promotion vehicle for upcoming Coldharbour cuts as they are standard DJ sets, this doesn’t bode well for his label. Sure, his loyal Cult will lap it all up, but if you’ve grown weary of Schulz’ shtick, Amsterdam ‘08 will only reinforce your distaste for his sound.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2008. © All rights reserved

Aira Mitsuki - C.O.P.Y.

D-Topia Entertainment: 2008

(a Patreon Request from Philoi)

Holy cow, it's a j-pop synthwave album! You'd think this is a shoo-in mini-scene, as '80s anime seems ripe for aesthetic plundering as anything else form the decade, but for some reason I don't see it much. Then again, a lot of the animation coming out of Japan was setting its sights in the far future (anywhere between 1995-2152), and synthwave is more about celebrating stuff that actually existed in the '80s, even if it's a hyper-stylized version cribbed from direct-to-VHS fodder. There's no doubting that cover though! The font, the streamers, the car, the city lights, the purple vector grids, the retro-future eyewear – looks about as synthwavey of art as I've ever seen. I wonder what sort of cool sounds I'll hear in this ...2008 release? Wait a second... *does a playthrough* Oh. It's not synthwave at all. Huh, I forgot the '00s cribbed a ton of '80s iconography too, all the while sounding nothing like '80s music.

Before getting into what this is, let's get into who this is. Aira Mitsuki is a j-pop songstress who apparently won some contest called the Mega Trance Songstress Audition. I have no idea what that is/was, and a Google search just brings me either to her bio, or the Mega Trance compilation series, which has nothing to do with Aira, j-pop, or trance. I'll assume it was another idol contest that Japan loves throwing, though Ms. Mitsuki used her opportunity with the victory to go in a totally unique direction.

Instead of retreading chipper ol' synth-pop in cute/fetishistic outfits, Aira instead presented herself as a “techno-pop idol from the future”. Sure, we could always use more cyborbs in our dance-pop, and she accommodated this style by going full electro-house. No, wait, that's not right. With the heavy use of vocoders, auto-tune, and other digital effects on her voice, I'm hearing nu-italo in her tunes. Yes, that short-lived novelty genre of the early '00s, where it didn't matter what you sang or how badly you sang it, the machine would turn it into a catchy radio hit. Pair it up with bouncy, stylized dance-pop, and it's basically nu-italo half a decade past its peak popularity. But then, Japan has always been resistant to global trends in their music.

It's not all nu-italo though, with plenty of that mid-'00s electro house acid farting going on. Some tracks even take things into Ed Banger territory, Beep Count Fantastic and Rock'n Roll Is Dead in particular all sorts of garrish, chunky, abrasive electro-trash noisiness. Meanwhile, イエロー・スーパーカー is... happy breakcore? Where did this come from? The future, is where!

As for lyrics, even if I understood the language, the digital effects still render everything almost unintelligible. Which is fine for me who only like nu-italo on a dumb level. Sing about being blue or a Darling Wondering Staring, it all sounds the same to me.

Igorrr - Moisissure

Acroplane Recordings: 2008/2009

(a Patreon Request)

Pretty sure I've seen the name Igorrr in the past – one cannot even dabble in Venetian Snares without Igorrr's name getting dropped in association – but as for hearing his stuff, this is virgin territory, my friends. Still, how radically different can he be? You hear one breakcore artist, you've heard them all, amirite? Spastic Amen breaks, hyper editing, an aesthetic cribbed from another genre (ragga, chiptune, death metal, hentai), and a wacky sense of humour letting you know that everything involved is just one huge pisstake. Wait, that all sounds super awesome, and full of variety! Where was I going with this again? Oh yeah, with breakcore artists, you generally know what you're gonna' hear with these guys (re: that list above), but in a scene with dozens of extremely, ah, 'unique' individuals, you can count on something radically different from each one.

Of course, I don't know what specific things I might hear, and I couldn't help but take a peak at Igorrr's Discogs entry before diving in – don't want to be caught too unawares with these dudes. Straight off I'm hit with the word 'Baroque', which has me thinking, “ah, cool, there's gonna' be a lot of orchestral strings in this thing, as heard in some classic Aphex Twin music”. Occasionally, yes, but this Gautier Serre ain't limiting himself to that, nosiree. He's got himself some death metal in that creative cranium of his, which makes sense, baroque and metal sharing many musical traits. Just imagine Toccata And Fugue In D Minor with super-heavy guitar distortion! Oh, it's been done, you say. Like, a lot. Figures.

Anyhow, Moisissure is Igorrr's second album, though initially only as a self-released demo. When he later landed a proper label deal, this and his first demo, Poisson Soluble, were compiled into a double-disc item, but as I was requested to only review this, the first one will have to wait for another day. If I'm so inclined. Can't say I am though, Moisissure the sort of breakcore I'm equally delighted in, yet can't help but facepalm over too.

The baroque segments are nifty, I won't deny. Whether with creepy organs and strings (Valse en Décomposition), piano pieces (Œsophage De Tourterelle, Phasme Obèse), choirs (Liquid Requiem), flamenco guitars (Putrefiunt), or harpsichord (Huille Molle, Moelleux), no classical instrument is under-utilized or spared Igorrr's maniacal hyper-edits, often accompanied by glitched-out, thrashy rhythms. He even dabbles into swing-jazz for Brutal Swing, an old-timey ragtime ditty coupled with digital hardcore blast-beats and headbangin' metal riffs. I approve of this form of amusement making.

Other stuff, however, just leave my eyes rolled in their sockets. Death metal growling, babies crying, phlegm-filled breathing... is this all supposed to be funny, or kinda' serious? I assume the former, but I don't find it so, just annoying. Which, I'm sure, is also the point, creating discomfort in the listener. Aw, why do that, when you can showcase such operatic beauty as in Croute too? Gimme only good feels!

Michael Mantra - D#m / Gm

Purple Soil: 2008

Much of Michael Mantra's career was fairly typical as most egg-headed ambient/New Age composers went. Releasing material via ultra-rare tapes on his own label, occasionally popping his head out of obscurity for a compilation track or two, and generally minding his own business honing his craft with little care for fame and fortune. Maybe he'd receive a nice shout-out from one of the ambient journals of the day, but I doubt tapes like Sworn To The Bell and RNA – Ribonucleic Ambience were getting much attention. He did release one notable album, Sonic Alter on the American ambient print Silent, but for the most of the '90s, that looked to be Mr. Mantra's lone brush with success.

After a while, Michael paired with a producer named Rod Modell, the two collaborating on a couple LPs. You know Mr. Modell as DeepChord, and he even did a remix album of Sonic Alter under the guise before folks knew much about him. This gave Mr. Mantra a little associated buzz, and soon his works were getting unearthed for a new generation of ambient heads. Even Silent Season got in on the act! Man, that's wild. I'd seen the name 'Michael Mantra' here and there, but never made the DeepChord or Silent Season connection. Having now taken in a little more of the man's drone-scapes, the association does makes sense. This particular album comes care of Purple Soil though, a Czech print releasing material about as glacial slow as the frigid forms from which Mantra took inspiration in crafting these pieces of minimalist drone.

Yes, we're back in these waters again, ambient so subtle and minute that it'd have Geir Jenssen hoping for a little more action. His is a meditative sort of drone, the likes I've touched upon before (The Eternal Om springs to mind – the inlay even has a similar 'do not play while operating automobiles' warning), and is almost impossible to detail in any useful sense. I'll still give it the ol' college-try for sure, but if I don't make it back alive, tell my loved ones- never mind.

D#m is forty minutes long, and has around a half-dozen sounds coming and going throughout its runtime. There's the distant breath of wind through alpine cirques, something like bird-song slowed and stretched into weird abstraction, an even subtler drone tone than the wind that gradually changes pitch over dozens of minutes, and that's it. I cannot deny I'm strangely entranced by it all, like I must pay astute attention to even the most impalpable of changes to get the proper experience of this composition. Forty minutes is a bit much though, my mind often conking out somewhere past twenty-five. At a 'tighter' thirty-three minutes, Gm has a little more going for it, in that it isn't so impossibly quiet, with field recordings stretched out as a distant tone resembling an om chant emerges. A real 'reach for the laser' anthem compared to D#m, this one.

The Hacker & Eric Borgo - Zone (Original TC Review)

Tsuba Records: 2008

(2018 Update:
So The Hacker's kept himself busy, even reconvened with Ms. Herve for another collaborative album, but I can't say the same about Eric Borgo. His Discoggian data dries up shortly after this. The remixers, Ivan Smagghe and Tim Paris, collectively called It's A Fine Line - mostly did their own things independent from one another, but astoundingly reconvened a couple years ago to release a debut album under this project name. Whatever was the hold-up, guys?

As for the tunes, they're, um, there, and, uh, haven't aged well outside the 'minimal' era. So, they're, uh... meh, what else is there to say here?

Hey, did you know, for a while, this was to be the last item I was going to listen to in this massive undertaking of mine? It's not anymore, but for a while, it was! Boy, sure is swell it's not this anymore. Would have made for a lame, limp note to end it all with.)


IN BRIEF: A fine offering, but not from the name you’d immediately expect.

Let’s cut to the chase. You’ve probably clicked on this review because you saw The Hacker in the title and are wondering what Michel Amato’s been up to since he and Caroline Herve decided to put their famed partnership to the side so he could retreat back into the relative underground. Eh? Oh, you already knew he’s continued to serve up a steady stream of perfectly sleazy singles, hooked back up with Miss Kittin on occasion, and generally maintained his name as one to keep an eye out on, even if his brand of electro-body-techno isn’t quite as popular as it once was and still should be. Damn, but you guys are good!

Ah, so it’s the lesser-known name Eric Borgo that has gotten your curiosity then. His story is quite similar to many in this business: after earning his pay as a DJ for most of the 90s, he managed to gain the attention of Amato and Olivier Raymond (Oxia) at the turn of the decade, such that he’s had the opportunity to release a few singles with them since. Last year he and Oxia had a minor electro-house hit with Another Man, and now it would seem he’s teaming up with The Hacker to see if they can work some music magic together on a new single entitled Zone.

Unfortunately, magic is rather lacking on this effort. Granted, the bassline oozes suitable sleaze, and ominous techno pads add some atmosphere on occasion, but everything else is just far too sparse and uninteresting to make Zone anything greater than an early tech-house set piece. The main hook, such as it is, consists of a tuneless looping plinky riff, harkening to techno’s robotic heritage but is devoid of the necessary craftiness that’ll lift this above the ‘minimal’ glut. And no, playing around with layered echo-and-delay effects does not give it character; such tricks have grown as tired and cliché within techno circles lately as the super-sawwave breakdown did in epic trance. Considering Amato’s name is tied to this track, the charm his productions are known for is surprisingly absent from Zone.

Luckily, the flip offers something more than ‘minimal’ monotony. Ivan Smagghe (former Black Strobe member; Fabric and Suck My Deck contributor; Word Perfect spell-check nightmare) is the larger name behind this remix, and along with Tim Paris has crafted a remix that, although gloomier than the A-side, offers much more personality. Simple choppy rhythms, eerie mangled hooks, and disconcerting atmospheric fills provide a track that’ll turn a tech-house set towards the sinister side of clubbing. And while it may not have much spring, this remix will nonetheless satisfy for those who enjoy inducing a little paranoia into their listening habits.

So a simple little release we have here, folks. The keeper is definitely the remix, but it isn’t enough to earn Zone high marks. As for The Hacker (yes, the guy you really did click this review for), this is something of a stumble for his discography. If he insists on doing collaborations, maybe it’d be best for him to stick with Oxia or Kittin.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2008. © All rights reserved.

Flowjob - Zentertainment (Original TC Review)

Iboga Records: 2008

(2018 Update:
Oh man, while re-listening to this album, I came up with the perfect analogy to describe it. Get ready for this, it'll blow your mind. So, like, you know how cars have, like, five gears, with the first being the slowest, and the fifth being the fastest? Flowjob's debut album, Support Normality, was often hitting that peak of fourth gear, but would have been super-boss if it had a track or two that hit the fifth. Zentertainment, on the other hand, seems stuck in second gear for most of its runtime, occasionally squeaking into third, but seldom with much lasting success. Isn't that such an awesome analogy? What do you mean a George Harrison quote's coming to mind?

After this album, Mads Tinggaard left the group, but Joakim Hjørne's carried on the Flowjob banner to this day, even releasing an album in 2016. I browsed some of his recent material, and it sounds decent enough for contemporary prog-psy, but not much distinctive compared to most other stuff out there, missing that super-infectious groove these early efforts provided. May have to dig further to find out whether it disappeared after Mads' departure, or if it was a gradual thing.)


IN BRIEF: Sophomore stumble.

Strong debuts are common in the rock music industry. Whether thanks to initial innocence, talented hunger, or a nurtured push, such musicians often bring vital enthusiasm to their freshman efforts. Following that up with a solid second effort tends to be far more difficult, though, for a number of reasons that needn’t be brought up at this point; anyone with a passing familiarity with the music business would know them anyway. However, because dance music is a market dominated more by the single than the album, the dreaded Sophomore Slump occurs far less often. Heck, despite dozens of EPs, some producers don’t even get around to releasing a full-length. In this regard, the psy branch of EDM probably has the most in common with rock counterparts, as it is quite possibly the only large scene within dance culture that is primarily dominated by LPs.

As such, like rockers, many psy acts fall prey to second-album stumbles. Where it seems there’s agreeable debut albums from countless names monthly, strong follow-ups are increasingly rare. It’s as though all their great ideas are used up in one shot, and instead of easing through the in-between with singles, they rush out with a second album that sounds like a bunch of B-sides to the first.

And does Flowjob’s new album Zentertainment succumb to these pratfalls? Come-come now, surely you’ve learned how these introductory paragraphs go? Fortunately for the Denmark duo, it is only marginally so.

For those just tuning in to the Flowjob sound, Misters Hjorne and Tinggaard made an immediate impact with their 2006 debut album Support Normality on the burgeoning prog-psy label Iboga. I've already covered that release, but in case you’re not up for reading one of our older, rather clumsily-written reviews (we were still new at it, honest!), here’s the abridged version: infectiously groovy, wonderfully vibey, free-flowing prog that flirted between house and trance throughout, with very little actual psy influences considering the label it appeared on. Although some of the tracks on that album could have used more energetic climaxes, Flowjob’s sound was still highly enjoyable. Two years on now, where do we find the Denmark duo?

A surface scan reveals them to be cruising along right where they left off. Flowjob’s distinct neo-Tokyo electro-coo’ sound is all over Zentertainment, so if you come in looking for more of that, you’re in for a treat. And on the rhythmic end, they’re just as infectious as ever. You could potentially ignore a track for most of its duration, but once something grabs your attention, it hooks you in and you’re locked in for the ride. A welcome addition to their production are craftier basslines that are unafraid to leap off the loop-rails. If things are sounding fine and dandy, though, then what’s the problem I hinted at above?

Frankly, what’s missing from Zentertainment is a sense of thrill. I really don’t want to compare albums because even if it is not the case I have to assume the reader is coming into this one cold; however, when a follow-up lacks the same energy a debut has, comparisons are inevitably made. Flowjob has scaled back their music such that it comes off quaint and pleasant now, which of itself is fine for casual moments or warm-up periods at parties. But when you hear potential for more lurking beneath you can’t help but come away with lingering thoughts of “what if...” This was what impeded Support Normality from reaching some truly exhilarating highs, and now that Zentertainment finds Flowjob in an even mellower mood, their music comes off very subdued. The first half of this album does maintain a decent sense of flow, though. It’s all pleasant sounding with spacey pads, catchy (if overused) vocal samples, and undeniably groovy rhythms.

Once the lovely trance vibes of Don’t Believe In Mirrors ends, though, chances are you’ll be wanting Zentertainment to either ratchet-up the energy or offer something new. Flowjob provides the latter; unfortunately, it seriously drops the album into a kind of middling variation of their sound with lower BPMs and odd hooks. There are moments that’ll still grab your attention but unlike prior work, it never seems to go anywhere. It sounds as though the duo, like so many sophomore efforts, are trying to experiment in areas where they don’t have quite the musical fortitude to make work, all the while their strengths are sorely hindered in the process. And unfortunately, it ends the album on a rather limp note.

A bad album, then? No, not really. For the most part, it is still enjoyable, and if anything Zentertainment is charming enough for chiller moments. If you missed out on Flowjob’s debut, however, this one probably won’t do much for you.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2008. © All rights reserved.