Tiësto - In Search Of Sunrise 7: Asia (Original TC Review)

Songbird: 2008

(2013 Update:
In Search Of Sunrise was Tiësto’s series, of that no one can debate. Doesn't matter if you figured it was a good series or not, when you thought of DJ mix CDs from the Dutch icon, you thought of this one. Hell, he even named numerous remixes of his after it, almost as a means of cross-promotion. So while it wasn't in the realm of implausibility he'd move on from it, you sure didn't think Black Hole would be so presumptuous that they could carry on In Search Of Sunrise with an even doofier twat afterwards. Way to ruin the legacy, Black Hole.

Re-listening to the collection of pure uplifting trance vibes of CD2, I wonder if Mr. Verwest had already planned his musical change of direction that was soon to follow. It almost comes off as one last hurrah for his long-time faithful, a sort of "This be the last time ya'll gonna eat off my trance plate, bitches!" If you've never liked the vocals in his mixes, it's definitely the best (and only) In Search Of Sunrise disc you're likely to find.)

IN BRIEF: In search of consistency.

Although Tiësto’s never hidden the fact he is an ambitious individual, it would seem he’s no longer satisfied with conquering specific locales like Los Angeles and Ibiza. No sir, now he aims to make his mark on a continental level, and settling with nothing less than the biggest continent on the planet: Asia. At this rate, subsequent releases of In Search Of Sunrise will probably be subtitled Earth, Sol (now there’s a concept, searching for sunrise on the sun!), Andromeda, and finally Sloan Great Wall.

All joking aside, the Asia tag affixed to the seventh edition of Mr. Verwest’s annual DJ mix doesn’t have much to do with this release, as the continent's various cultures - from the Middle East to Siberia to Indonesia to nearly everything in between - aren't touched upon. Rather, this is still very much Ibizan in nature, with your usual plethora of acoustic guitars, poppy vocals, and melodic-driven dance beats. And although one could probably conjure some vague Far-Eastern imagery at various points, there’s only one track that seems to directly draw influence from the continent (the sitar use in Get Lifted). As it turns out, the main reason provided by the man himself for the subtitle was he happened to be touring through Thailand when he compiled this - so Thailand would be more accurate, although with so few actual ethnic aesthetics contained on this double-disc, it could just as easily have been subtitled Turkmenistan.

Specifically, My Hotel Suite In Thailand is the locale - and the first disc of this release certainly does sound like a bedroom mix, as there isn’t much of a theme or structure to the set. Tiësto seems to have rounded up a number of his current favorite summery vocal and prog house cuts and arranged them in quite an erratic fashion. We jump from Balearic house to girly prog to instrumental tunes to folksy male vocalists to... you get the idea. Each mini-segment, mostly lasting a couple songs, bares scant resemblance to a previous one, with transitions into the next that are usually abrupt and jarring. Tiësto’s mixing has long been quite noticeable and telegraphed, but he can often hide his technical limitations with at least agreeable set flow; however, with even this lacking, CD1 comes off as a mish-mash of mostly randomly selected tunes plunked in to fill up seventy minutes of playing time.

It doesn’t help some of the songs aren’t that good to begin with, Tiësto’s own remix of Cary Brothers being the worst offender - the lyrics and music don’t mesh at all and it's an unfortunate waste of an otherwise good bassline. Plus, having the set end with yet another Christian “Will Shed Tears For Sunrise” Burns guest vocal reinforces the fact over-emotional male singers in dance music does no favors for the genre’s credibility. Overall, despite strong tracks from Three Drives and 16 Bit Lolita’s (as Kamui and Dokmai, in a very obvious attempt on their part to help Mr. Verwest add some legitimate Eastern Asia attributes to this release) that are worth your attention, CD1's rushed feeling creates a lack of polish you’d expect from a high-profile name the likes of Mr. Verwest holds.

Oddly enough, the opposite holds true for the second disc. Here, the music is divided into two sections: current-sounding trance at the start, and classic epic trance afterwards. There isn’t much of a theme to this set either, but by sticking to a very specific style, the flow is stronger, especially so in the second half. In fact, the biggest highlight of ISOS7 is this ‘return to the roots’ section.

Although CD2 starts promisingly with a nice intro (the intro and outro tracks that bookend each CD, and are produced by Daniel Joaquin and Javier Rodriguez, are quite lovely) and a nifty little number from Zoo Brazil, it quickly descends into a trudge through overproduced, side-chaining, plodding music. Yet, just as you figure it can’t get any more wrought with Carl B’s cloying Just A Thought, all that is significantly scaled back into something far more, well, simple - and this is a good thing! Kimito Lopez’ Melkweg isn’t interested in assaulting your senses with vertigo-inducing side-chain washes or overdosing with ultra-melodies; nay, just a good groove, pleasing melody, and trancey backdrops. It completely changes the tone of the set, leading us through a string of one solid track after the other. The melodies are strong and to the point, easily outclassing Carl B’s effort; in comparison, Just A Thought comes off like a hyper-sensitive child desperately seeking attention, screaming “oh please please PLEASE love my super-wonderful mega-melody!"

And yes, by playing simpler trance tracks that get back to the basics rather than bumping and clawing at each other to be THE set highlight, the rest of CD2 does take on a pure trance-inducing attribute. Each song has the strength to stand on its own, yet expertly feeds off the previous one to maintain the energy; even the breakdowns and builds are tastefully executed, seldom coming off excessive (although Casa Grande does teeter close to the edge). Granted, even this section has some problems with transitions but the strength of the music helps gloss such quibbles away.

Ultimately though, this latest edition of the ISOS series is once again one disc too many. If you were to take the highlights from the first CD and couple it with much of the second half of CD2, you’d have an incredibly solid set of summery energetic progressive trance vibes. As it is, however, you have to wade through a bunch of overbearing mediocrity and sketchy arrangements to get to the good stuff. This still may be worth a pick-up on the cheap but with chances being only the last third getting consistent play-through down the road, you’d be better off just buying your top picks individually instead.

Sounds From The Ground - Brightwhitelight

Waveform Records: 2008

I’ve been buying music from Waveform Records since the label’s earliest years, but not everything they’ve ever put out – such is life when you’re younger and without ample income or ability for online shopping. These days, however, it’s no big to splurge, and while taking a look at their latest offerings, I came to a stunning conclusion: I’ve never picked up anything by Sounds From The Ground. The London duo’s been a core act of Waveform since its earliest years, having released over half-a-dozen albums through the label along with frequent compilation duty. Why have I ignored them for so long? That’d be like buying from Ultimae Records, but bypassing everything Solar Fields related. Damn, time to rectify that oversight. I should pick up a couple- no, wait, I can afford all the albums now! Well, the ones on Waveform anyway (holy cow, have they released a lot of music).

So I'm properly all caught up on Sounds From The Ground, but due to my alphabetical restrictions, ya'll only get to read about a portion of my listening labour for now. And, unlike a proper 'chronological' retrospective, we're starting way up in the currentsies, their 2008 (and seventh) album Brightwhitelight. Huh, with a title like that, maybe it's a nod to the Moontribe parties.

Oh wait, I should explain these GroundSound guys. Comprised of Elliot Jones and Nick Woolfson, they've essentially continued the ambient dub banner seminal label Beyond pioneered, so it makes sense they'd find a home on Waveform for Stateside distribution. By the time this album came out, the duo were primarily releasing exclusive material through Waveform, which given the global reach labels could achieve in the '00s, makes good sense, keeping one's discography tidy. I guess.

Not that they haven’t done other music. Just last year they released a mostly ambient LP on their own imprint called Ready Steady Slow. Going through their Waveform output, however, I’ve noticed they haven’t changed their sound much or explored other genres beyond typical dubby downtempo and chill. Brightwhitelight’s no exception, playing about as straight your ambient dub as you’re likely to find. It’s certainly well produced and pleasing to the ears, with occasional variations (psy, lounge, etc.) keeping things from getting repetitive. It’s just… there’s nothing on this album that I haven’t heard before executed with similar competence, either from similar artists or Sounds From The Ground on previous albums. I admit I’m not giving Brightwhitelight much of an opportunity to warm itself to me, but stellar albums will always stand out no matter how many others you’re plowing through, and this one unfortunately passed by my ears with little fanfare compared to the rest of the batch I picked up.

Not the best way to warm you up to this duo, I know. Any group with a large discography has at least a couple middling albums, and this blog’s silly stipulation simply brought up one such from Sounds From The Ground’s first. Better luck on the next one, then.

Earthling - Hypernature (Original TC Review)

Neurobiotic Records: 2008

(2013 Update:
Another CD that sounds better than I recall, at least on a superficial level. There wasn't anything on here that I actively disliked this time around (though some of the drug references remain childish), making me wonder why I gave Hypernature such a snarky, middling score in the first place. Maybe I was just cranky? It was the middle of the winter when I wrote it, and Lord knows that's affected impressions on more than one occasion. Oh yeah, I'd totally suck as a 'professional' music journalist, what with letting emotions and subjectivity getting in the way and all.

However, once the album ended, I remembered why Earthling's sophomore effort left me underwhelmed: nothing stuck in my head, the same frustrating problem I had with it before. Maybe that's why liked this a little more now - I'd totally forgotten anything about it.)


IN BRIEF: Cool cover.

I have a confession to make: I’m easily drawn towards psy trance covers. Sure, they can be ridiculously overcooked and busy at times, but there’s something about the combination of computer artwork, fucked-up concepts, and pure psychedelia I find difficult to resist. Maybe it’s my fruitful imagination that’s to blame, intrigued by the out-wordly bizarreness of these covers. Whatever the reason, it was one of the things that got me into trance when many compilations from the 90s had similar themes, and it’s a bit sad that generally only the field of psy continues to over-indulge in fractals and such.

More than that, though, I often figure imaginative, creative covers will provide imaginative, creative music from the CD inside. You would think after being burned on numerous occasions over the years I’d have learnt my lesson by now. But nay, I still peruse psy trance albums, find something with a really funky cover, and come away underwhelmed time and time again. *sigh*

Italian Celli Firmi has been DJing psy trance around the Mediterranean (mostly Ibiza) for over a decade, but earlier in this decade he released an album as Earthling called Patterns to minor fanfare; some enjoyed it, some found it boring, but, having read this far, most have only just now discovered he even had an album called Patterns (and probably also that there’s a guy named Celli Firmi who produces as Earthling). Firmi’s mostly appeared in collaborations since, but this past year he decided to release a follow-up titled Hypernature. After listening to this, I figure more effort was put into the cover than the music.

Okay, that’s unfair. I’m sure Frimi put a good amount of effort into his album – after nearly eight years since the last one, why wouldn’t he? When the results are this dull and generic, however, one can’t help but wonder what even the point was.

Seriously, it took nearly half-a-dozen listens of Hypernature for anything beyond stock psy sounds to sink in, and even then I had to resort to alternative methods. No, not that kind of alternative method – I’m talking about something else entirely different. Instead of playing the album from beginning to end as usual, I hit the Random button on my player, then jot down notes beside a track number should it crop up. Lo and behold, it actually worked! I could finally remember which track had the “TV brain” sample, and which one had the “open eyes” sample; which one had “some moments with a rubber hook”, and which one had the extra amount of “superfluous rips, zips, and zaps”; which one had the “dull twiddle”, and which one had “some acid chunk”; which one had a “slight bass change”, and which one was “slightly groovy”. And so on.

Actually, there were a few things that did catch my attention even on the initial play-throughs. The tracks that bookend Hypernature - Beans Of Light and Lost In Trance-Nation - stand out from the rest because they have actual solid hooks in them; however, they are unfortunately undone by silly ‘taking drugs is cool, kids!’ vocal samples. Also, there was one cut on here that makes use of a mid-track tempo change – which one was it again? (checks notes) Ah, right, number six (Get In The Chopper); not that anything comes of it - this gimmick has been used in psy for ages, and often executed with far more brilliance than here - but after listening to standard full-on rhythms for much of the album, any variation stands out.

That’s the primary problem with Hypernature though: everything on here has been done before, and done far better. The rhythms may have energy, but are generally as generic as psy gets; there’s plenty of synth tweaks and burps scattered about to make the music appear busy and complicated, but for the most part is merely fluff; the standard psy arrangements either wibble about or piddle out with anti-climatic finishes. Some might argue that Firmi wanted to make a ‘deep’ record, so of course things won’t leap out; it’s designed to be head-fuck music, or some-such. Fine if such is the case, but when one Olien track can fuck with my head more than a whole album’s worth of Earthling tracks – and be a memorable experience in the process - I’m going to go with the sure-thing.

Yet Hypernature isn’t an awful album either; there isn’t anything here that made me cringe or bury my head in shame. For all intents, were I to hear a track from here while at a party, I’d probably continue to bounce along to the beat. Granted, I doubt I’d recall what had just played once it was finished, but nor would I have an overwhelming urge to leave the dancefloor. If anything, these could make for fine transitional tracks.

And that right there explains why Firmi’s second is the dull, unremarkable listening experience that it is. It’s an album full of set pieces, of transitional tracks. There are plenty of brief possibilities and almost-hooks, but you always get the sense that it’s leading to something more engaging, more memorable -perhaps in a DJ set this would be so. Alas, it is not the case on the album called Hypernature.

Hercules And Love Affair - Hercules And Love Affair (Original TC Review)

DFA: 2008

(2013 Update:
As tempting it is to claim Hercules And Love Affair was ahead of its time in predicting the return of classic house and disco vibes we're enjoying half a decade on from this release, let's be honest here: that prediction all the trendy publications were pushing as the 2008 narrative promptly fizzled out by the following year, an infatuation with k-hole grooves and druggy lyricism dominating underground house for the next while later. So thoroughly forgotten was the 'house revival' that, when Andrew Butler followed up this well-received debut, hardly anyone gave his sophomore effort, Blue Songs, much attention. No, it'd take the efforts of post-dubstep UK chaps and two French robots before everyone finally properly claimed classic house was back. Or maybe not - let's see how we're doing on that front a year from now too.

This album's held up fine, and indeed is quite enjoyable if you're one of the late 'revivalist' bandwagon jumpers. Who knows what the Hercules project has in store for the future though, as what was once an unique offering in a sea of minimal-tech monotony can all too easily get lost in the current sea of like-minded producers.)


IN BRIEF: ‘Beardo disco’ you don’t have to dig for.

Contrary to popular belief, old-school house music never went away. For the most part, it’s lingered in the back of our minds thanks to endless classics compilations and nostalgic DJ mixes such as the Choice series. Unfortunately, such an association to the past has kept those vintage sounds of garage, Chicago, and acid firmly away from the spotlight as many producers continue to try and take house music in new directions. All fine and good, and sometimes they’ve even come up with winning results, but it was no reason to completely abandon the old either.

Actually, check that. One of the reasons classic house music was left to the history books was due to the genre’s refusal to move on in any significant way. Too much emphasis on adhering to The Rules laid out in the beginning left the genre quite stale by the time the mid-90s rolled around; and those who still produce the odd track in the old style are often guilty of honoring the past just a little too much, writing homages rather than songs. It seemed things were going to stay that way too; however, the year of 2007 saw a number of quiet singles break ranks and show there was still room for classic house to grow, and with the current trends of nu-electro and minimal growing stale it was the perfect time for a potential revival.

Amongst these singles was a debut release from an unknown individual by the name of Andrew Butler. Producing under the name Hercules & Love Affair, Classique #2 turned heads, especially so because it was released on iconic disco-punk revivalist DFA; while definitely fans of dance music’s past, the label hasn’t typically been figured one for house preferences. Not even half a year later, Butler has been given the full-length green-light and, perhaps unsurprisingly, the trendsters of the music press have jumped all over this self-titled album, all too eager to once again have their overflowing early praise be the starting point of yet another musical movement. Although some of the pure disco aesthetics help distance it from more standard house labels like Om, Naked, or (*snicker*) Hed Kandi, I can’t help but believe the hipster hype over Hercules would be near non-existent if such were the case.

That said, there’s definitely something more special going on in this album than what you would find in typical house music fare. Yes, all the elements of disco and house from years prior 1990 are here: Moroder staccato basslines, funk-band trumpets and strings, Knuckles grooves, soulful lyrics. What Butler has brought, though, is renewed vitality and inventive spins that keeps these songs fresh. Whether making use of unpredictable chord sequences (Hercules’ Theme; You Belong), crafting sonic depth with unassuming background textures (Athene; Raise Me Up), or throwing in quirky cartoony sound-effects (True False/Fake Real), this album is filled with hidden little sonic treasures.

And then there is Butler’s supporting cast (this the Love Affair?). Being tied to DFA, he already has amongst dance music’s most versatile session musicians to tap, with folks such as Tyler Pope and Eric Broucek bringing their A-game to this project; and the Tim Goldsworthy production touch is always, er, gold. Also thrown into the mix are a bunch of brass players few will be aware of but provide such an integral part to the disco vibes on here, you’d think this was a full-time band with plenty of years working together.

Probably the biggest highlight is Antony Hegarty, who’s vocals steal the show anytime he’s featured (Time Will, Blind, Easy, This Is My Love, and Raise Me Up, for the record). His earnest croon fits perfectly with the disco motif, elevating the songs he sings on to lovely heights. Small wonder the lead single for this album -Blind- has been getting so much play (if you haven’t heard it yet, you will soon enough). Like Knuckles and Principle, Butler and Hegarty are a potent combination.

This all being said, Hercules And Love Affair does have some hiccups too. For one, despite exhilarating songs like Blind and You Belong on offer, if you are not a fan of vintage disco and house, then this album probably won’t win you over. Truthfully, I can’t see many under the age of twenty-five getting into this as the production seems geared for those with musically-matured tastes (hence all the brief solos throughout), but then that’s long been the hipster domain anyway. Also, the songs feel rather short, as they tend to end abruptly. Hercules’ Theme is a prime example: after a riveting funk-band jam build in the second half, the song just stops; a coda of some sort would have been nice. Perhaps when Hercules & Love Affair perform live, they’ll expand on these songs more, but that still leaves many of their offerings here coming off like teasers that could have been fleshed out more.

Everything being said, quibbles such as these are minor, and for a debut album Hercules And Love Affair is solid enough to warrant your attention. Sure, the ‘beardo disco’ brigade will be hyping the shit out of this but there’s also enough for casual fans to enjoy too without having to succumb to the hipster lifestyle. After these last few years of clicks and farts dominating house music, it’s refreshing to hear the old-school executed in such a pertinent fashion.

Nine Inch Nails - Ghosts I-IV

The Null Corporation: 2008

This is the last one, I promise. Well, at least until we get around the ‘P’s, if I decide to pick up Pretty Hate Machine (might as well, right?). I’m astounded that I now own this much Nine Inch Nails material, gathered up in such a small frame of time (helps when friends are offloading their old CDs). I mean, there were odd tunes here and there that I liked, thought were interesting, didn’t mind if they happened to air, but little that’d make me go, “Okay, let’s do this!”, and properly dive into Trent Reznor’s discography. Something had to be a catalyst though, to finally pique my curiosity enough to take that leap, and that would happen to be this here album, Ghosts I-IV.

Actually, it was a single track off here that did it, used as the backing score to this fucking awesome video of the Cassini Mission to Saturn, created by Chris Abbas. The images are already lovely, but the accompanying music stunned me when it was revealed as a Nine Inch Nails piece. The band was doing music like this? And not as a simple one-off filler, but a whole album’s worth? Wait, two CDs worth!? I’ve misjudged you, Nine Inch Nails, may I experience more?

To be fair, nearly two hours of pleasant, ambient doodling can get tedious (yet Brian Eno’s had a long career peddling such stuff), even with such a tantalizing piece as 2 Ghosts I leading the way. The whole project isn’t really about that though; rather, having finally freed himself from any and all record contract obligations once his deal with Interscope ended, Reznor desired to free himself of any and all creative direction. In other words, no specific themes or album concepts, just musical expression and experimentation, letting the muses of everyone involved to go where it may. Swell… jazz, then.

Heh, no, but Ghosts I-IV does get rambly after a while. As one can expect with drifting muses, the music comes off like half-formed ideas, bits and pieces of something that could have been made into a greater whole had Reznor went down that road instead. With so few breaking even the four-minute mark, it’s the sort of music you’d expect to hear as transitional pieces on a proper album, or weird experimental remixes on Side B. I can’t say I was ever bored with Ghosts, as there’s enough stylistic variation – glacial piano drone, brief industrial freak-outs, distortion-fuzz rock jams – that’ll keep your attention, just to hear what odd-ball sounds will come with the next cut. At the same time though, so much of it comes off like teases, musical ideas deserving of more care.

Apparently Ghosts was intended as a one-shot EP, and perhaps it should have remained as such despite Reznor and co. enjoying all the results. It’s akin to one of those ‘studio sessions’ rock bands often release as bonus discs to their classic albums, only missing the classic album. Interesting and oddly enjoyable, but unessential.

Various - Fabric 38: M.A.N.D.Y.

Fabric: 2008

*cover art brought to you by Fabric’s “Weird Masks With White Backdrop” period*

If you were a fan of tech-house in the mid-‘00s, it was your duty to consume all that Get Physical Music put out. No, there was no debating the issue. The label that M.A.N.D.Y. and Booka Shade built was your God, and that was that. Nice of them to release occasional good music too, but as time wore on, the bouncy, minimal deep-tech aesthetic they popularized grew watered down as pretenders and imitators flooded the market. It was up to Get Physical’s heroes to take charge, planting their flag as the preeminent tastemakers for all things rooftop shufflelicious. Except they didn’t. Booka Shade got tired of the same ol’ shtick and started exploring synth-pop, of all things. Meanwhile, M.A.N.D.Y. did… um… er… well… hmm.

Well, maybe they felt taking a step back from the limelight would allow their label’s new talent to enjoy the spotlight (like Samim!). It didn’t stop the demand for their DJing talents though, and with minimal deep-tech the trendiest shit throughout 2007, it made sense that Fabric tapped one of the original promoters of the sound for a mix. Trouble was, as the following year took form, folks were itching for something fresher, and M.A.N.D.Y. just wasn’t providing it anymore.

I know a single mix CD is hardly enough to judge a whole scene on, but their contribution to Fabric sure does capture what it was like listening to this stuff in 2008. It has a promising start – oh how many mix CDs have a promising start – with a decent groove established, quick mixes between tracks so nothing lulls for long, and enough hooky variety to keep you engaged. Somewhere in the middle though (well, for me, Audion's remix of Dubfire's I Feel Speed), all momentum is lost, M.A.N.D.Y. taking their set into plodding k-hole monotony. There isn't even any of the atmospheric murk that at least occasionally makes this stuff interesting on a head level. Nope, just dry, minimal tech-house, sapping away whatever energy the set had as each track goes by. Not even a last gasp of interesting tunes at the end is enough to rescue this mix.

Why were DJs making sets like these? Were they trying to be the anti-trance brigade? Making sure when your ketamine bumps started kicking in, you wouldn't worry about tripping over your feet with rhythmic intensity? God, does it ever suck if you're not interested in diving down the k-hole. M.A.N.D.Y.'s Fabric mix is like having sex when you're incredibly drunk. The initial thrill and excitement eventually wears away, but you keep muddling along in the hopes of hitting a climax eventually – and when it does, it's but a pathetic dribble of release that hardly makes it worth the effort in the first place.

Was This Worth The Pennies Paid For It?
Not even. Tons of DJ mixes like this are out there for free, and you don’t see many recommendations for those.

Nimanty - Etanee

Venonza Records: 2008

*sigh* Here we go again.

I suppose this makes better sense than one-sided vinyls – talk about scamming record collectors with that option – but one-song releases are still annoying to deal with. It's not even like Nimanty couldn't have made this a multi-track EP, as he released other similar digi-singles at the time. Was it so important having individual images tagged to these MP3s? It just don't make none of the sense in this day in age.

If I'm bitching so much, why did I even pick this up then? Research, primarily. As one of those links to the right suggests, I've been gathering all sorts of music for a guide, and sometimes good examples of certain genres come in these single-song releases. Normally it's some re-issue of old, obscure, tape-only ambient from the '80s, but occasionally something like this crops up too. I prefer avoiding them though, as it wonks up my personal library. Still, this Etanee was too good to pass up. Heck, I even paid for the bloody thing, and I fucking hate the very concept of paying for MP3s. But... I didn’t buy a digi-file that's uninsurable; no no, it's, um, donating to Discogs, for their incredible service. Yeah, that's it! And if the artist gets something beneficial in return, all the more better for it.

So who is Nimanty, and what’s so special about this one particular tune of his? Roelf Staal’s the man behind the project, composing space ambient much in the vein of the label Hearts Of Space, a juggernaut operating since the ‘80s in providing music to watch the stars hover by. You know, the sort of calm, soothing music they’ll play at the planetarium as you bear witness to the cosmos in all its splendour. The universe is grand and majestic, not cold and desolate as those dark ambient guys will have you believe. In that sense, space ambient has a tendency to skew towards the New Age side of things, and though some will claim the difference is negligible, believe me it exists.

Etanee in particular is a good example of where that divide occurs. It has your sweeping, spacious pad work as you’d expect, but there’s more musicality going on here, a greater emphasis on not only creating atmosphere, but painting a specific picture. Ambient, at least in its purest sense, is ambiguous in presentation, the listener often allowed to discover their own interpretation of the music playing (though the composer will still offer a guiding hand). Etanee takes the time to play a little piano, glitch up the pads, and even provide curious vocalizations. It’s like a Kitaro composition, quite pleasant really when it comes to New Age-ambient hybrids.

Overall, this is a nice little tune (only ten minutes long), but my God could it use musical context surrounding it. C’mon, Nimanty, how about a proper LP, eh?

Petar Dundov - Escapements

Music Man Records: 2008

Why's this so difficult? Petar Dundov makes trance. Not epic, anthem, fluffy, unicorn, euro cheddar trance; just simple, old school trance. Why do so many folks deny it? Are they afraid his tunes will suddenly turn bad if they're tagged to a genre of music that's been horribly raped in the mud? What an idiotic assumption, but it sure seems like it the way Dundov's trance will get called anything but trance. Melodic techno, hypnotic minimal... just not trance. God, it's like saying Kerri Chandler doesn't make house music because David Guetta and Swedish House Mafia have sullied that genre’s legacy. There's room for both, commercial and classic, so why not take trance back to its roots?

Then again, maybe the world of electronic music wasn't ready for a return of classic trance in 2008. And it's not like Dundov intended to make a statement of some kind with this album. He cites the same influences that many original trance producers did – classical synth composers of the seventies – and by stripping his production of so much modern excess and fashionable fluff, the results are simple and hypnotic. Certainly it helps that many of the sounds he uses have a vintage tone to them, as though plucked from keyboards of yesteryear. It's techno without the maximal aggression or minimal wank, music that could easily rub shoulders with other tracks on an old Harthouse compilation; y'know, trance.

Okay, okay, Escapements isn't all trance; in fact only a few tracks could be labeled as such. For the most part, this is a techno album that often dips into space synth and the like. She In Purple is a dead ringer for ‘80s stylin’ cool electro-groove, while Anja’s Theme and Kanon harkens back to the minimalist experimentation many ‘70s keyboard wibblers indulged in. Meanwhile, influences from Detroit crop up on Rain, Oasis, and Waterfall, working a slow, grooving build to a futuristic motif. They are arranged much in the vein of classic Laurent Garnier, though rather subdued in comparison.

Distant Shores and Sparkling Stars though... they’re classic trance through and through. Cascading synth washes, hypnotic loops, subtle arps, stuttered hooks, and rhythms just groovy enough to hook you into a TAZ as it plays through. Mark Reeder would approve.

I guess the pertinent question is, if Escapements sounds like something that could have been produced in the early ‘90s, is there any reason to get this in the here and now? Well, if you fancy that vintage vibe, it’s a no-brainer. As Dundov’s production has a nice, crisp modern sheen to it, nothing sounds dated, and hypnotic, melodic techno (trance!) always had a futuristic vibe going for it. If you’re curious why old-old schoolers are always going on about how trance was so much better back in the day, don’t hesitate to scope Dundov out. Even if it’s unwittingly, he’s one of the few producers out there that can take the name back to credibility.

Venetian Snares - Detrimentalist (Original TC Review)

Planet Mu: 2008

(2012 Update:
This was one of the albums that helped get me out of a writing funk I had in 2008, where I went nearly two months without contributing anything to TC. I think I made a big, melodramatic deal about not "having anything left to say" or some bullshit like that to explain my absence.

Detrimentalist has gone on to be a handy bit of ammunition for many forum arguments over 'awesome intense musics'. I've put many a bro-stepper into place by throwing Eurocore MVP and such in their faces. y0 betta' recognize, son!)


IN BRIEF: You thought this shit was easy?

As Venetian Snares, Aaron Funk has spent the last decade assaulting ears with all kinds of noisy glitchcore, gabber, and drill’n’bass productions, in the process building up a sizable following of aficionados for that sort of thing. Thus, whenever the curious inquire about the genre, Funk’s name is one that is oft repeated. What they’re usually stunned to discover, though, is there is more to the Venetian Snares moniker than distorted beats and scattershot rhythms. Modern classical compositions, chip-tunes, sprinklings of trip-hop and whatnot – it’s certainly an eclectic discography, and with something like “332” disparate albums (though realistically more like a dozen), trying to dive into Venetian Snares new can seem like a terrifying proposition.

So it’s just as well we bring our attention to his latest full-length, Detrimentalist; after all, if you’re looking to get your feet wet, it might as well be something relatively current. And fortunately for the fearful, this album is probably among his most accessible. Like so many, Funk has been bitten by early 90s nostalgia. And like his fellow IDM screwbars and nutballs, this also means dedication to old school hardcore rave. Ragga jungle! Hoovers! Big riffs! Oh shit, yes!

But allow me to reign in my unapologetic enthusiasm for the moment, as there’s more going on here than a simple love-in. This is, after all, Venetian Snares, and the project from Winnipeg never would have gained a well-deserved reputation without providing music that’s oftentimes compelling head-music. For sure, Dentrimentalist has old school vibes bursting at the seams, but when coupled with glitchy noise, confounding time signatures, and spastic breakcore, you have something that’s wholly unique in the process.

To put it bluntly, this some next level shit, motherfuckers! Ragga rave-jungle squared. Beats and patterns that are at once chaotic and infectious. An audio assault you can barely handle, yet crave more once the track ends. There’s acid, hip-hop samples, rhythmic drops that’ll have you moving like you’re suffering from an epileptic seizure. Leonard Nimoy going on about how his eyes and heart are flame (Koonut-Kaliffee lifts a nifty lengthy sample from an old Star Trek episode; the use of “I burn” is especially mint!). Screechy gabber will bludgeon your brain and you’ll thank Funk for it. One of the most common clichés in dance music reviews is that a track will “destroy a dancefloor” but some of the material off Detrimentalist could probably cause mass chaos, were it not for those good-time ecstatic rave riffs keeping a smile on your face.

Eh? Is all this talk of intense rhythms too much for you? Well if so, you could always scurry over to the deadmau5 stage, where you’re guaranteed a clap every second beat and not much else. Still, despite Funk ably holding his frenetic beats together, there are points where it does fly off the rails, and you begin to wonder if he’s about to loose all sense of direction. Flashforward in particular comes off wholly wayward, not only sounding misplaced on the album but directionless overall; as though Funk couldn’t resist throwing in a ‘breakcore-for-breakcore-sake’ track. Detrimentalist needs more of those snappy reggae notes found in Eurocore MVP, not less.

The final two tracks also stray from the general theme Detrimentalist tends to maintain, in that they are more along the lines of some of Venetian Snares‘ previous material. Bebikukorica Nigiri is all chip-tune bleeps, classical chords, and skitter-breaks, and fun in its own unique way. Finally, Miss Balaton dips into analogue ambient waters and orchestral strings before engaging us with rather subdued breakcore, providing us with a relatively soothing bit of music to ease us out of the intensity the rest of the album bombarded us with. Allow me to just add here that I am continuously amazed by these IDM producers’ yin/yang capabilities - they create some of the most ruthlessly noisy music out there, yet will often deliver incredibly gorgeous synth textures within the same album.

So, if you’re still wondering whether Detrimentialist is worth your time, the answer is a definite yes. Even if the notion of drill’n’bass and breakcore seems scary and absurd, this here new album from Venetian Snares should cure you of such concerns. Funk has thrown in more than enough inviting classic EDM conventions to draw in the most cynical of IDM detractors, all the while maintaining his signature complexity throughout.

Human Blue - A Decade Of Dance: Best Of - Part 1 (Original TC Review)

Transient Records: 2008

(2012 Update:
The good news is Spiral Trax is still operating, though in far lesser capacity than years past. The bad news is ol' Dag hasn't released much of anything since these retrospectives. I don't know whether he called it quits or is simply taking an extended break from production. Guess check back in half a decade for a 2016 Update?)


IN BRIEF: Only a taster.

Human Blue isn’t obscure. In fact, Dag Wallin’s project has a few albums to his name, not to mention been featured on several compilations over the past ten years. Considering the incredibly high turnover ratio of psy trance producers, he’s actually done quite well for himself to keep plugging along. Yet were you asked to name off the top of your head a ‘Human Blue classic’, chances are you’ll be hard pressed to respond with anything immediate. That lack of any recognizable hit singles has kept his profile out in the fringes of trance-land, which some may say has been for the better. Less corruption from popular trends… keeping trance ‘real’… those sorts of reasons.

Truthfully though, the reason Human Blue didn’t break out the same way others have is due to the very nature of his music. He’s primarily a progressive trance producer, but when he was releasing his first singles in the late 90s, Wallin didn’t follow suite with what the superstar UK DJs were pushing as that sound – rather, he decided to draw influence from psy trance instead. For better or worse, this instantly ‘ghettoized’ his work (that is, if you consider outdoor parties surrounded by a bunch of hippies as ‘trance ghetto’, heh), which is a shame because there are many tracks of his that could have fit snuggly into trance sets from that time.

So, Wallin wasn’t really progressive trance, but nor was he really psy. Sure, there were some elements here and there, but for a form of music that has long been characterized as busy and, er, psychedelic, Wallin’s tunes were comparatively simple; few superfluous squiggly bits and such. Rather, it was more groove orientated, with attention paid to building upon rhythmic layers rather than messing around with head-fuck effects. It became known as a distinctively Swedish take on psy trance, a sound shared by other prominent producers such as Vibrasphere and Atmos, and nurtured on the label Spiral Trax. It was progressive, yet also psy. It was… prog psy!

With prog psy being heralded as the last refuge for pure trance lovers in recent years, folks who fancy the stuff should be pleased that one of the originators of the sound has now released a pair of retrospective collections. When Spiral Trax folded in ’06 (though they’ve since re-opened), Wallin signed with long-time psy tastemaker label Transient, and promptly decided to gather up a bunch of Human Blue tracks that have grown increasingly difficult to procure. Why, though, spread it out over two independent CDs rather than release it as a double-disc set? Senseless, I says.

The reason for us choosing to cover Part 1 of A Decade Of Dance is purely arbitrary; similarly, so seems the consideration behind the track selection. There really isn’t much to differentiate the two releases, as they both equally cover the same time period, and the stylistic variation between them is nil. That said, Part 1 follows mostly a chronological selection, and you can notice the ever-so gradual shift in Wallin’s work as he moved from a pure prog trance sound to something a little more groovier. Only two tracks fall out of the Human Blue timeline, the unreleased Space Blues (probably the most rhythmically intense track out of the bunch here) and Breaking Limits, from the ’99 album Ice - you can definitely hear the early goa influences with this one. Everything else follows a similar pattern: basic beats and tones are laid out early, gradually building in rhythmic energy before some minor melodic ideas are introduced, finally capping off with everything coming together. Fortunately, the strength of Wallin’s production keeps things fresh through each tune, if not exhilarating.

And yes, the lack of variation is a chief quibble to be had with this CD. Part 1 is by no means a dull playthrough - I’d only rate Virtual Turnaround as a weak link - but the relative sameness throughout the disc keeps its overall rating mired in that annoying six-to-seven range so much music ends up; it’s just not quite a solid seven, but certainly far better than a six. Were we to utilize PitchforkMedia’s rating system, Part 1 would be something like 6.8473π²÷10 , but since we here at TranceCritic aren’t twits, I’ll just round it up to 7.

If anything, this is a nice little primer into the Human Blue discography. This or Part 2 (should you have picked that up instead) is easily enough to get you started on what Wallin’s music is all about, with just the right amount of potential tease to tantalize you further should you be curious enough to dig deeper.