Various - Fabric 50: Martyn

Fabric: 2010

Come to think of it, Fabric was being a bit ballsy in handing their half-centennial volumes of both Fabic and Fabriclive to upstart genre heroes like Martyn and D:Bridge. Sure, it'd be safe enough dropping another round of Fabric friendly tech-house or jungle, but no, there's plenty of new sounds making waves in the underground and abroad, and we're gonna' make sure folks know about them in our fiftieth editions.

Why do we place so much prestige on '50', anyway? '10', '100', and '1000', sure - adding another zero demarcating a whole new series of numbers is a pretty big deal. '50' though, is just half way to one-hundred. Is it because many fiat currencies rely on certain amounts for easy distribution, '50' being one of them? Honestly, in my neck of the world, '50' spots aren't terribly common, seemingly rarer than '100' bills. Is it an age thing? Maybe, but still only regarded important in relation to the century mark. Okay, that's enough rambling to confuse the Hell out of whatever A.I. bot is scarping this review.

Choosing Martyn for Fabric 50 isn't that far out of leftfield as it may have seen at first glance. Yeah, he was something of a post-dubstep hero in ye' olde year of 2010, one among a clutch of producers taking it down more interesting roads than whatever the North American bros were vomiting out. Mr. Deijkers was never strictly a dubstep guy though, having come up through the D'n'B scene on Marcus Intalex' Revolve:r print. He just kinda' jumped on a bit of a bandwagon when the UK bass scene was blowing up, had his fill of doing his own thing with it, and was just as quick to move onto other things, mostly house and techno (as many early dubstep heroes did).

While the full transition was still a couple years off from Fabric 50's vantage point, even here you can hear him testing the waters outside the familiar confines of future garage sub-genres. There's a couple Ben Klock remixes, a Redshape remix, and a Levon Vincent acid track (Air Raid). Heck, even his own Vancouver owes more to dub techno than whatever London broken-beat genre he's forcing it into. Small surprise it mixes in from 2562's Flashback, a chap who was already paving the way into such post-dubstep genre fusions that sadly didn't last much into the following decade.

It's this little tug-n-pull of what I'm sure folks expected of Martyn and what he actually wants to do that creates something of a disjointed set. It's good overall, don't get me wrong, just seems a little muddled in where its destination is. Does it want to showcase all the various facets of UK bass music as it existed in 2010 (the Afro-beat stuff, the bleepy stuff, the funky stuff, the soulful stuff, the dubby stuff), or does it want to steer us away from all that (the techno stuff)? For sure its eclectic, but feels rather rambly in the process.

Various - Energy Waves

Suntrip Records: 2010

Brace yourself, more goa trance is coming. No, I mean, all at once, in a row. As alphabetical organization has decreed, I now have a run of four Suntrip CDs ahead of me. And even after getting through this mini-block, I still won't be done with the label among my 'E' albums! Heck, I nearly had another one included in this bundle, Morphic Resonance's Extrasensory Perception coming out mere months after I splurged. Psy trance peeps just really love the letter 'E', I guess.

On one hand, hey, swell beans, knocking off a bunch of these in one fell swoop. That'll help getting through this catalogue a bit quicker, right? Then I look at what I still have sitting in my CD rack, just the barest of dents made. I swear, Suntrip's discography didn't look this big when browsing it on Bandcamp. Who knew over seventy CDs was actually a large amount! Maybe should have settled on one of their smaller packs, like the thirteen CD 'Darker & Acidic Goa Sound' one, or the nineteen 'Suntrip Classics', or the twenty-one 'Melodic Overdose Extended'. Bare minimum, the thirteen 'Compilations' bundle, to at least get a feel for the label before going whole hog on it.

Like, if I'd nabbed Energy Waves first, it would have been an easy sell after. Yeah, the title and cover art is kinda' corny in that too-retro goa trance way, but it's hard faulting the music within. Suntrip itself had firmly found its footing by this point, emerging acts like Filteria and E-Mantra rubbing shoulders with established vets like Ra and Dimension 5, and a whole burgeoning micro-scene with up and coming talent chomping at the bit to make their mark among all the cyber-crusties.

Like that Mindsphere chap that opens the comp'. He'd been around already, but would soon become a fixture within the Suntrip camps. Right, The Awakening is more of a prog-psy outing, but gotta' start things off on a slower beat before unleashing the blistering 140+ BPM. E-Mantra's here too, giving a rub on Khetzal's Indian Attic, while Ra's Time Current provides another other of their smooth, no squiggly fuss psy tunes. That's about it for the heavy hitters, the remaining tracks featuring relatively new cats, at least at the time. This CD's almost fifteen years old now, at least a couple of them went on to make proper albums since.

Such as Antares, who's Eureka breaks the ten-minute mark of unrelenting, ever-building goa vibes – essentially the de facto Suntrip stylee, come to think of it. Meanwhile, Astrancer gets two tracks, Athanaton going a bit deeper compared to the flying-high Inhabitants Of The Sun. Getting this much shine on a nine-track collection, you'd think he was a sure-shot of future success, but instead mostly stuck things out on compilation market after. Huh, who'd have predicted that? Then again, Khetzal was tapped for Future Star status, and look how long he took for a follow-up to Corolle.

Lucette Bourdin - A Thousand Voices

Dark Duck Records/Fantasy Enhancing: 2010/2021

How long have I been chipping away at this box-set? It doesn't feel like a 'forever thing' yet, but goodness, has it been an age since starting way back in ye' olde date of November 2021. My review of Ancient Memories may as well be ancient memories now, though it is nice things have kinda' ramped up to about a month-per-album rate. Barring any unforeseen happenstance or my gallivanting off on another month-long 'me time' excursion, I should have Retrospective Box Set (2005 – 2017) wrapped before the end of summer! Only thing that can stand in my way is another box-set with a silly alphabetical stipulation clogging up the queue, but what are the chances of that happening, eh? Haha, hah!

A Thousand Voices was the lone album Lucette released for Dark Duck Records in 2010, her time more spent with Earth Mantra that year. There wasn't any particular reason for that, just a fact of circumstance making some additional info I can burn a little more self-imposed word-count on. Look, when one's spent some 8,000+ words on an ambient artist's discography, the talking points run thin.

Seriously though, there is something a little more unique going on with this album compared to most others I've heard from Ms. Bourdin. While her choice in synth pads has remained consistent throughout, this one makes more use of voice synths and choir pads, bringing to fore the New Age aspects of her muse. Yeah, it's not that significant a difference, overall, but when stacked against Lucette's discography, it stands out. Just don't go expecting some artistically challenging conceptual art-house production. Like, if Tim Hecker released an album called A Thousand Voices, you bet your bottom dollar he'd literally use one thousand sampled and recorded voices in crafting an impenetrable wall-of-sound ambient drone opus lauded by music journalists who don't listen to much ambient in the first place as revolutionary. Or something. Nah, dawg, Lucette plays things simpler and direct, yo'.

As for what we get here, it's a straight-forward affair of ambient drone pieces. While the choir pads are heavily featured in a number of tracks, not every one contains them. Alien Prayer relies more on airy synths and a bit of sliding electric fuzz, I s'pose imparting a sci-fi feel to the piece. Strange Landscape has a subtle rhythmic bassline with delicate bell tones and acoustic guitar accompanying its synth leads, bridging that gap into the realms of ambient techno Lucette's flirted with on occasion. Closing track Once Upon A Time more heavily features piano over choir pads, lending the piece to modern classical opulence.

What really caught my eye (and ear, I guess), is In My Room, apparently a homage to The Beach Boys. I honestly have a hard time hearing whether this is a direct cover, what with it being over nine minutes long of choir pads. If it is more or less reinterpreting that classic little song's chord progression though, pretty darn cool, I say.

Fabric 55: Shackleton

Fabric: 2010

Another year, another mini-splurge on Fabric CDs on the cheap. While it's doubtful I'll ever get them all, even the thirty-plus currently sitting on my shelves seems like a paltry amount compared to what's out there. Heck, I could expand that by ten more CDs, if I wanted to buy another bundle of ones available for under ten bones. Despite the series having ended, there's two-hundred releases under its banner, many of which are far from ever reaching the pricey collector's market

I bring this up because I find it rather bizarre that despite my generally restrictive rules in getting a Fabric CD (must be dirt cheap on Amazon), I've landed upon yet another 'artist' album in the series. Just how many of these are there? Ricardo Villalobos' entry was the most infamous, in that it was the one that broke that barrier in the first place. I remember there being a bit of a stir when Omar S did the same. I didn't even know Daphni (aka: Caribou; aka: Manitoba; aka: Mister Snaith; aka: Dan) had one until I got it. No doubt it takes a bit of gumption to even do such a thing when followers of Fabric expect DJ mixes featuring multiple artists on a single disc, not an excuse to hawk your own productions.

Of course, the argument can be made that some producers and DJs have a style that's so uniquely their own that doing an 'artist' album is about the only way they could do a Fabric set justice. It's certainly a worthy point when it comes to Shackleton. When he was still technically part of the dubstep lexicon, his style was far more tribal and primal compared to his contemporaries, quickly establishing himself as among the freshest sounding artists of the '00s UK bass scene.

Even after proper demarcations formed following those Wild West years, Shackleton still didn't fit tidily into any specific sub-genre. How, then, could he be expected to do a traditional DJ mix for Fabric if there were so few other cats making similar music he could rinse out? Still, the series wanted prominent names, so let him do it his way, even if the results are basically another artist album from the man. It's not like he had many under his belt by 2010 anyway.

And yep, fabric 55 is definitely a Shackleton set. Lots of afro rhythms, lots of tribal drumming, lots of minimalist dub, almost all fresh material (older joints like Hypno Angel and Massacre crop up), and in no hurry to get the party moving. I know my go-to comparisons for this sort of sound is Sandoz or Rapoon, but for some reason Muslimgauze at his more entrancing is the name that keeps cropping up in my mind in this outing. If Bryn Jones had been inspired by northern Africa rather than Arabia that is. And less about the industrial noise. Okay, it's not a perfect comparison, but I didn't want to again namedrop my old standbys.

False Mirror - Derelict World

Malignant Records: 2010

If you must point to any album that sparked my interest in dark ambient beyond passive curiosity, it's this one right here. Prior, I figured the genre consisting of either macabre industrial horror or suffocating existential drone (with some pagan ethereal worship thrown in). If you'd told me the scene also contained reflections on post-apocalyptic settings... Well, I'd have believed you too, since that seems right up the genre's wheel-house. Okay, okay, but what if... with landlocked seacraft? Ooh, now that's something super specific I'd never considered. You're telling me there's music that contrasts our engineering triumphs with our apocalyptic hubris, a perfect soundtrack for traversing the Aral Sea region? Tell me more!

Still, if the cover-art of Derelict World captivated me so, why has it taken me this long to review it? Wouldn't this have been among my first purchases? Yeah, funny thing happened, mostly by way of a Cryo Chamber. This album may have sparked my interest, but it wasn't until indulging Simon Heath's print that I actually started buying up dark ambient releases. By then, I'd forgotten about the intriguing CD with the captivating artwork, who it was from, where I even last saw it. Many years passed before it finally crossed my eyes again, wherein I'd taken in a fair bit of the stuff from various corners. It felt like obligatory duty to get Derelict World by that point, whether it was good or not.

Fortunately, it is good. As False Mirror, Tobias Hornberger had released a few albums throughout the late '00s, including dataObscura (and there's the reconnect). When he got the chance to debut on long running industrial print Malignant Records, he didn't hold back in creating nothing less than a magnum opus. Well, something with an immersive narrative at least. The concept is simple enough: the end of the world, a torrential cataclysm of predictive but unknown origin, and its aftermath. Is it though? While the track titles and prose within the liner notes imply as such, perhaps this is more of a psychological horror. I sure had images of The Lighthouse floating about my head-space as Derelict World was playing. Probably because part of the album's narrative includes finding refuge in an abandoned lighthouse. Or is it?

Musically, Derelict World is all about that omnipresent drone-tone, varying intensity and mood as the story unfolds, with field recordings filling in the gaps. Given the cover art, it's surprising hearing so much water dripping and sloshing about hollowed husks of metallic dwellings, especially in the final stretch of tracks. Final piece, The Sea Of Oblivion, is quite fascinating, drones gradually fading off until all you hear is the quiet lapping of small waves against the shore. It plays out like this for many minutes, to such a point you may not even notice it any longer. After a while, a gentle dirge emerges, as though our viewpoint character has found solace in whatever realm they now dwell. I've had dreams like this.

Bonobo - Black Sands

Ninja Tune: 2010

Migration may have been Bonobo's deliberate attempt at having crossover success, but Black Sands may remain his most popular album. Never mind this one is owned by over twelve-thousand members of Discogs' community, well outpacing Migration's 'mere' eight-thousand. On a track-by-track basis, Spotify's streaming numbers puts Black Sands' songs properly above Migration's, though the King Bonobo cut goes to The North Borders' Cirrus. All that pre-hype as a lead single in the follow-up to Black Sands no doubt helped its cause. Of course, this all could be explained by the fact Black Sands has a seven year head start on Migration to rack up such numbers, but I prefer going with the theory that Black Sands is a better overall album.

For sure it's an album in transition. The first clutch of Bonobo records mostly stuck to that traditional Ninja Tune-y trip-hop vibe that was so prevalent in the early '00s. They were good enough to gain a dedicated following, but not enough to branch beyond that. By the late '00s, however, it was abundantly clear change was afoot in UK downtempo-land: trip-hop was finally on the way out, jazzy urban soul and future garage was in. Simon Green had already explored some of the former on Days To Come, and 2010 was as good as any year to start dabbling in the latter. Just in time to hit those lucrative festival circuits playing nothing but the latter!

Actually, there isn't that much more of it here, Black Sands offering a wide variety of old and new Bonobo. For sure the album hits you right out the gate in Kiara with the wonky rhythm and chirpy chiptune bleeps while a Far East string melody plays along, but follow-up Kong is pure vintage Ninja Tune hop-step, steady-cool groove. Then Eyesdown gets in on that skippity-shuffle beat while Andreya Triana croons along, while El Toro has fun with acid jazz. Wait, really? Yah, really. Call it 'electro swing' if you must, but we all know what it really is.

The genre hopping/fusions continue throughout Black Sands, each track hitting upon their own unique vibe, the album never losing its way for the ride. Did I mention a lot of this is done with instrumentation performed by Bonobo himself? Yeah, there's a number of featured guests, especially on El Toro and the titular finale. Yet tunes are arranged such that it kinda'-sorta' still sounds like sample-based downtempo music, with subtle electronic gimmickry enhancing the studio sessions. Heck, on the aforementioned titular finale, a big ol' cinematic jazz outing with contributions from Jack Baker (drums), Mike Lesirge (flute and clarinet), Mike Simmonds (violin), Alan Hardiman (trombone) and Ryan Jacob (trumpet), Mr. Green also plays guitar, piano, double bass, xylophone, mandolin, and harmonium. Ahh, the wonders of multi-track recording.

Does this mean that Black Sands has converted me to the Bonobo Brotherhood? Well, it got me checking out more of his earlier output, which is all any artist can hope for from late adopters.

Pantha Du Prince - Black Noise

Rough Trade: 2010

I reviewed Pantha du Prince's The Triad a while ago, but kinda' forgot about it. Then some songs from it happened upon my playlists, causing me to take pause and reflect: “I think I actually like this guy's music to explore further.” Where to start digging though? The very beginning with Diamond Daze? Mm, maybe not, its shoegazey micro-haus vibes always prompting quick skips when sampling through Spotify. This Bliss, then, the one that broke Mr. Weber... well, not all the way into clubbing consciousness, but enough such that it got Very Important electronic music journalists buzzing. Perhaps I will, but at a later time, when that album's “Oh yes, it's definitely peak minimal tech-haus” attributes don't cause as much PTSD in yours truly. Conference Of Trees? What is this, person of the year 2020? I'm doing this dig in 2018.

Thus, it falls to Black Noise, the Pantha Du Prince album I'm sure everyone has, even if they're not a Pantha Du Prince fan. Without hearing a single bell tone or marimba strike or groovy bassine, you're instantly drawn in by the lovely painting of St. Bartholomew's Church. Then you hear praise and plaudits from across the continent, intriguing you further for an impulse purchase. It certainly got the attention of music journalists beyond traditional clubland:The Guardian, Uncut, Spin, Clash (fashion mag?), and ...The Irish Times? Wow, deep find there, Wiki.

I've given Black Noise multiple plays since getting it, yet I'm still struggling to 'get it', if you get me. Absolutely I 'get' what I'm supposed to 'get', be amazed at all the clever use of multiple mallet instruments and how much sonic space is left among them to breathe upon the simple steady grooves. I dunno though, some tracks on here come off trying to be too clever for their own sake, layering things in such a way that it mimics glitch production. Some portion of my brain though – the 'dumb' part, I guess – wants something to hook it in, and only occasionally does that happen, mostly in the straight-forward dancefloor tunes (A Nomad's Retreat, Satellite Snyper, Bohemian Forest). The percussion showcases of the first few tracks on this album come off cluttered to my ears, though Bohemian Forest does get that balance down right, while Welt Am Draht's dreamy vibe reminds me of what I liked about The Triad so much.

Anything else? Oh yeah, that other big selling point that got indie mags looking into Black Noise, the collaboration with Noah Lennox. Some of you may know him as Panda Bear, others as part of Animal Collective; a big f'n deal in that scene, is what I'm saying. No snark, I quite like Stick To My Side, Pantha's dubby rhythmic treatments and sparse bell tones creating a nifty moody atmosphere. Panda Bear comes in and does his vocal thing, but I'm all about those slowly escalating strings, the song peaking out quite nicely. Black Noise could have used a couple more of these.

Tijuana Panthers - Max Baker

Innovative Leisure Records: 2010/2015

It was bound to happen sooner than later. As much as you'll find throwbacks and homages to the genre throughout the decades, surf rock is just too niche a style for any modern band to make hay playing only that genre. Heck, it was lucrative for a mere half-decade to begin with, and while five years in '60s time is, like, eleven years in modern time (somehow), it's so intimately tied to a specific setting that a lasting rebirth simply can't happen again. Even Bandcamp, the last refuge for any band or musician who just don't give an f' so long as their craft is out there, freely admitted that its surf rock recommendations quickly disintegrate into indie pop or garage rock standards, some included bands barely touching the vintage shredding instrumentals with splashy reverb.

Tijuana Panthers fall into this category, a three-piece band having far more in common with Violent Femmes than anything Dick Dale turned out. On the other hand, their lyrical content sure brings to mind the simpler antics of teenagers hanging out at malt shoppes than all d'at angst of later generations. Never before has getting a crew cut sounded so daring and rebellious! No, wait, wasn't getting a crew cut the norm of ye golden oldies days? Like, having a mop-top hair-do, or something as scandalous as side-burns, those were the styles that gave young women their sexual awakenings. So is proudly proclaiming you're getting a crew cut an act of preppy defiance, or are Tijuana Panthers just playing up the stereo-type in a modern era? So much contemplation for a song that has a chorus of “I gotta crew cut baby; I gotta crew cut baby; I gotta crew cut baby; I gotta crew cut baby.”

Still, as a band that hails from Long Beach, Tijuana Panthers do bring a 'carefree fun in the sun' vibe to their music (including the song Summer Fun), which was aesthetically part and parcel to surf rock as the shredding and reverb ever was. The Beach Boys continuum, if you will, and this debut album of theirs is brimful of the stuff. Tunes like New Boots, Red Headed Girl, Two Step, and Angie will transplant you to the era of mini-skirts and little deuce coups no problem. If you want something a more 'rebellious' and rockin', however, how about rabble-rousers like This Town, and Girls Gone Wild. And yes, a couple songs do get more proper-surf (for lack of a better term), the aforementioned Summer Fun almost entirely a reverb-heavy instrumental, while Prayer Knees meets things in the middle.

Was Max Baker the sort of album I was after, then? Not really, but I do enjoy it for the time it plays. As mentioned, finding bands who specifically play the specific style of surf I like is a nigh impossible task. If my explorations cross paths with those who dabble though, who am I to complain? Beggers can't be choosers, and all that rot.

Various - Balance 016: Agoria (2020 Update)

EQ Recordings: 2010

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review)

Three things I need touching upon. First, and probably most important for a supposed 'review blog', how has Balance 016 held up? Pretty good I'd say, in that this was already such a marmite set, there's no way one's opinion of it would change a decade later. Like, maybe if you dismissed it after an initial spin, then returned to it with a different perspective, that might improve it for some. Or you forced yourself to enjoy it from the outset for 'reasons', then never gave it another play because 'other reasons'. That's certainly a possibility. Can't say either has happened to me though.

My thoughts on Agoria's contribution to the Balance series are about the same as they were in my original review from a decade ago (holy cow!). Some great highs (that The Field track!), some lows (French Kiss, just... no), and a lot of meandering middles that I don't mind while playing, but aren't in a rush to replay either. I will reiterate, however, that I do prefer Agoria's sloppier approach to genre-mashing compared to Joris Voorn's clinical take. It's somehow more exhilarating, like you're always anticipating the wheels coming off the tracks at any moment.

Second off, where did Agoria go from here? He got tapped for Fabric a year later, which isn't surprising since that series gets everyone eventually. Another album followed, but he pretty much floated around the DJ circuit with sporadic singles on various trendy labels throughout the '10s (Hotflush, Innervisions, !K7 Records). Eventually he set up his own print in Sapiens, and just this past year released another LP, which included... hip-hop? Huh, well, you do you.

My thirdly item doesn't have anything to do with Agoria, but rather the Balance series itself. Seems Balance 016 was the end of a particular era, where ultra genre-showcases and challenging DJ mixes went by the wayside. Following this, Balance started tapping veteran jocks of the proggy tech-house scene with more regularity, only a few token nods to newer cats taken in the ensuing decade. I'm not sure why this sudden change occurred - perhaps due to the series branching off from EQ Recordings into its own independent label? Gotta' draw in new fans with old reliables, I guess. Won't get you high marks with Resident Advisor anymore though.

It was this change of distribution when I stopped following Balance, no longer so attainable through Canadian shops (not that they were before). I kept in touch with the series just to see who'd do a set and all, but it wasn't until much later that I reconnected, thanks to one particular, and surprising DJ coming in. At that point I figured some older releases had come down in price enough to warrant a splurge. A few, which is where all these non-TranceCritic reviewed Balances are coming from (sans 007). Obviously, Holden was not among the 'Balance on a budget' spree, though I've heard upon the southern winds that a reissue happened this past orbital cycle...

Various - Hed Kandi World Series: London

Hed Kandi: 2010

I've heard the tales of Hed Kandi's turn toward shameless bandwagon chasing so often repeated that I couldn't help but repeat them myself. Surely the folks that were following the label since its inception would be knowledgeable in those matters, such that I could trust their opinions on it. Still, always that lingering doubt in my head, wondering if it was a classic case of a fandom growing jaded as their favoured thing drifts from that which they so initially enjoyed. I know I've been guilty of such notions, and while the Hed Kandi brand wasn't a super-underground franchise, it did carve out a particular niche in the clubbing consciousness by adhering to a certain aesthetic that appealed to a certain demographic: classy, funky, soulful disco and house for those who liked classy, funky, soulful disco and house.

So I can imagine with great sympathy the pain and sense of betrayal the Hed Kandi faithful felt upon hearing a triple-CD outing such as this. Like, I get why the label would take such a turn, the allure of big festival fuck-off money too tempting to resist. And sure, Timothy Berg had hit upon a successful formula that was super-easy to copy and paste for others to capitalize on, such that you could whip up your own Avicii clones to fill out a CD or three. That was never really Hed Kandi's M.O. though, was it? Yeah, their brand of disco house was commercial at times, something you'd hear in boutique clothing stores at the mall. Never the main mall speakers though.

CD 1 of World Series: London is all anthem house (re: 'big room EDM'), all the way through. And while Avicii only appears a few times in this set, his impact can be felt throughout. It's utterly banal and tiring and the sort of stop-start nonsense you'd have expected from the eurotrance scene. Nope, this is now what house music also is, and what Hed Kandi's pushing, so fuck all those who held the label with any sort of regard for class. Funk and soul is dead.

“Hey, now, Bitter Boy, that's just CD 1, the clubbing fodder used to lure impulse buyers in,” some may claim. “CD 2 is where the real tunes are, right?” Sure, if you fancy yourself anthemic 'deep' house – a bunch of big builds, but crashing out into monotonous tech-house anti-grooves. You can hear flashes of Hed Kandi of old, little pieces of singing soul sista's and booty-shakin' rhythms, but come off like teasing nostalgia triggers to remind you of what once was, but no longer is.

Honestly, were it not for the unmixed third CD, with awesome names like Tiga, Peaches, Röyksopp, and Silicone Soul included, World Series: London would have been a total write-off for yours truly. This was the sort of music that caused my 'crisis of faith' back in 2010 (among others), and I wasn't even a Hed Kandi follower then! Those poor, unfortunate souls...

Pleq - Our Words Are Frozen

dataObscura: 2010

This was my doorway into the world of dataObscura, in case you're wondering. Oh, you're not? Well, I'm gonna' feed you the wonder whether you like it or not, for that self-imposed word count won't burn itself through discussion of the actual music within (such as it is, but more on that in a bit). As you may recall (it's been many months), I did a review on Pleq's collaboration with Segue for Databloem, The Seed. Segue was my intro to Pleq, but in doing the obligatory Discoggian research, I took in a nice gaze of Pleq's extended catalogue, this album in particular catching my eye. Like, there's just something about frozen vistas that my mind is impeccably drawn to. Arctic, alpine, ice balls in deep space... just send me to the places where time and motion remains in near-perpetual stasis. And naturally, where one album resides, surely th'ar be more near-abouts, leading me to the dataObscura options out there. Ooh, so many more examples of snowy cover art. Sci-fi stuff too! Must... consume... more...

Now that I'm dealing with Pleq specifically, here's what you need to know. Goes by Bartosz Dziadosz when dealing with the driver's depot. Classically trained, but prefers staying in the lane of glitchy dronescapes. Released quite the bundle of solo and collaborative albums at the turn of the decade, though seems to have slowed some as of late. Has also released on Dronarivm, Chemical Tapes, Murmur Records, Progressive Form, Ginjoha, Pocket Fields, Felt, and The Long Story Recording Company. Ooh, that could be a cool label, if they got Ian McKellen or Morgan Freeman to do the recordings. Not so much Ben Stein or Gilbert Godfrey. That's assuming they even do actual long stories, and not just have it as a clever label name. One thing's for sure though, even the above narrators couldn't make this aimless rambling listenable.

Man, I wish I had more to say about Our Words Are Frozen. I so wanted to have a lot more to say, but Pleq isn't giving me much to work with here. And yes, that kinda' is The Point, sounds so minimalist it practically forces you to clear all the clutter in your brain if you're to have any hope of focusing on the sparse drones and static fluff. Glitchy echoes and sporadic skittery percussion have you feeling like you're lost inside frozen desolation, while minute tones suggest melancholic moods, but are never beholden to them either. In some ways, I'm reminded of Andrew Heath's compositions, but he always has destinations in mind with his works, slow and languid though they are (all the better to take in the scenery). Pleq would rather have you remain fixated on specific moments and thoughts, letting them slowly erode from your consciousness, morphing through repetition as it melts into abstract memory. Challenging soundscapes, is what I'm say Our Words Are Frozen is, though highly recommended played at high volume. Let those drones envelope your being, yo'!

SantAAgostino - Operazione Paura

Greytone: 2010

Time to get our murk back on, dark ambient once again seeping into my life, forever reminding of the ever-beckoning end that awaits our fates. Or something. Actually, I say this is dark ambient, and you'd certainly think it's dark ambient just by the cover art, but this could be something else too. Like, maybe nosebleed gabber? They certainly enjoy their gothic Reichland imagery. Oh, you already looked at the genre tags, confirming this is dark ambient. Clever girl.

This is another album I'm assuming I got in association with B°TONG, in that both appear on the short lived (and even shorter catalogue) label Greytone. And if there's anything I can't help doing these days, it's raiding newly-discovered labels of their meagre Bandcamp merchandise. What am I, some digital colonial minor-power? Probably, though fortunately, the online world is bountiful with musical resources to plunder. Just look at the obscene amounts of materials some Discoggian super-powers have acquired over the years. It's like thousands of British Empires staking claims on Jupiter.

I can't find much information regarding SantAAgostino though. Lots of poetic descriptions of what SantAAgostino does, mind you, but little of who they are, where they come from, and all that good stuff, not even a made-up mythology. I only know it's a 'band', because the Bandcamp info implies as such. It wasn't a long-lasting one though, this only their second album of three efforts, disappearing soon after into the mists of dark ambient's netherrealms beyond the ephemeral abyss. Or something. Look, I'm just style-biting the purple prose included in that Bandcamp blurb. It's infectious, yo'.

Despite having about a quarter of Italian heritage in my blood, my use of the language remains pathetically poor. Still, even I know Operazione Paura is an operatic opus, mostly dealing with death, decay, rot, and all the occultism surrounding such things. Just gander at some of these titles: Zombi: La Città Verrà Distrutta All'Alba; Necrofilia Su Barbara Steele: L'Orribile Segreto; Terrore Nello Spazio Infinit: Culti Morbosi. Scary stuff indeed.

The music's suitably coarse and abrasive too. We're treading into the harsh domain of power electronics, my friends, where melody and timbre gives way to atonal attacks and industrial grind. The opening titular piece is as effective in setting a confrontational mood as I've ever heard. Follow-up Zombi adds crunchy hardcore beats to the foreboding sounds and noise, while Necrofilia Su Barbara Steele is relentless in its aural assault.

Just when I thought this album couldn't get more unbearable though, things suddenly take a turn for the moodier and minimal. Virus and Terrore Nellow Spazio Ininito sound like they could be score work for a cyberpunk thrillers, while L'Occhio Nel Triangolo works the ol' industrial drone. I suppose the retreat from the noise works in L'Abominevole Dott's favour though, in that it sells its discordant grand organ vibes more effectively. Quite all over the place, this album is, which is cool, if you can get past that initial assault on your headspace.

Distant System - Lost Sequence / Pupillary Response

self release: 2009/2010

Everyone's got that hotly anticipated item that seems perpetually postponed. The world of fantasy literature has George R.R. Martin's latest entry in his Game Of Thrones saga. The world of music has Dr. Dre's Detox. The world of music guides has Ishkur's Guide To Electronic Music V3.0. The world of video games has [checks notes]... Star Citizen now. Huh, does that mean folks have finally given up hope on Half-Life 3? Guess it can't be anticipated if it was never officially started in the first place.

Anyhow, while the above undoubtedly have had tonnes of folks hanging on every drip-fed update for years now, the bane of my anticipation remains hopeless obscure. Indeed, if Last.fm stats are anything to go by, it's not even a blip on the spaced-out psy-chill scene, as micro-niche of a scene as they get. Small wonder that Tyler Smith has kept a second Distant System LP in cryostasis for so long if the interest simply isn't there compared to his Androcell project. Dammit though, Spiral Empire remains one of the most captivating examples of this extremely specific sound tickling my limbic system that I've being craving another hit ever since. Others can have their additional songs of fire and ice, I wants my Spiral Empire 2: Revenge Of The Spiral!

While there's been small murmurs and rumblings Mr. Smith may finally dust the project off (again), I figured the best way to keep tabs on developments was to spring for the full Distant System discography on Bandcamp. Yes, I even re-bought Spiral Empire, the only time I'll likely re-buy a CD I already have in a digital format. Meanwhile, that allowed me to finally nab the two compilation-only tracks I'd missed out on way back when, Lost Sequence and Pupillary Response.

Speaking of Lost Sequence, holy cow, what's up with its scrobbling data? The track's outpaced everything else in the Distant System discography by a factor of five, and even has a whole two bars beside it on Spotify. Was the compilation it appeared on, Vampire Sunrise, really that popular? Hm, with a name like that, I wouldn't be surprised. Still, I suspect a shared link on some influencer's blog helped it along.

Anyhow, the track feeds me exactly what I crave in my Distant System fix (directly into my veins!). The epic synth pads painting the cosmic grand, the steady chugging prog-psy rhythm that makes me feel like I'm cruising on an interstellar craft, the touches of sci-fi bleeps and glitch as though I'm receiving sparse transmissions from the depths of the galactic core, all that good stuff. Pupillary Response, initially released on the far-less known Vital Signs compilation (which Tyler himself pieced together) is a more chill affair, almost meeting in the space where Distant System ends and Androcell starts. Not a whole lot happens that I haven't heard in this project before, save a chord change midway that melts my head, heart, and spleen. Sometimes the simplest tricks are the best.

Brasil & The Gallowbrothers Band - In The Rain, In The Noise

Cat Sun: 2010

I admit I'm not the most adventurous of music consumers, generally sticking to the lanes I'm most comfortable in. Like, compared to some vinyl hounds out there, who buy anything they find just to add to the piles in their sheds, I tend to be a little more selective. I'm not one to dive into second-hand shops or yard sales gathering up the numerous Anne Murray and Gordon Lightfoot compilations I find – heck, I don't even buy every Neil Young album, and I likes me some Neil Young more than others. When I do tread beyond my boundaries, it's almost always due to incidental circumstances that I do – taking on someone's former music collection, for instance. Turns out, there's another method of exploration I never knew existed, one that Databloem provided: the mystery splurge!

At their online website, they give you the option of a 'surprise box' of either ten or twenty CDs from their backstock, which had me rubbing my beard as I arched an eyebrow ever so inquisitively. The back of my conscience advised me that these selections couldn't possibly be the best they had to offer, most likely items that had failed to sell-through in their initial runs, and were now being offered as an enticing package to help clear stock. To which the hoarder in my brain responded, “Yes, and?” What if something unexpected and unique came about from this offer, leading me to a fresh path of musical discovery I hadn't considered yet? Plus, this being Databloem, I was confident they wouldn't go that far astray from what I was familiar with. Surely some mundane post-rock was the worst I had to brace myself for.

I honestly might have already covered an album or two from that 'surprise box' purchase, but this one was definitely the first that leaped out for me, exactly what I figured would be the bulk of what I was in for. Brasil & The Gallowbrothers Band is a group name that fits the post-rock bill, as does a title like In The Rain, In The Noise, with song titles like After Dark I Only Hear The Echoes Of Their Footsteps and Another Night In Cottage No. 21. This seems modus operani for this trio of Domink Savio, T.E.R., and Tomek Mirt, who've flitted about the Polish abstract-ambient scene for the past two decade now under various projects and guises, this particular album the last under this particular alias.

And there's some cool sounding stuff on here, a quirky, trippy minimalism that touches upon ambient's more psychedelic aspects - Spider Is Awaken sure reminds me of The Orb's Spanish Castles In Space in capturing pastoral chill. Still, this is all a very indie rock approach to the music, which seldom succeeds in drawing me in the same way as traditional ambient does. I don't know why that is. You'd have to deep-dive into my brain to figure that one out, and really, who want's to do that?

Visions - Summoning The Void

Cyclic Law: 2010

I've dabbled in a few items from Cyclic Law, but haven't gotten much into the founder of the dark ambient label, Frédéric Arbour. That's because, unlike Simon Heath and his multitudes of Cryo Chamber works, Mr. Arbour only dabbles in the producer's console. He has a few different projects to his name, including this one as Visions, but only scant releases under any of them. Seems he's far more comfortable playing the role of music curator, bringing others into the Cyclic Law fold, giving their releases his mastering touch while consulting on cover art. Cannot deny he does provide a unique aesthetic in the dark ambient lexicon, a faded, gritty look that hints at the fantastical, but seldom ever implicitly confirms it. Always about what your senses don't reveal, this scene is.

Visions is Frédéric's most fruitful project, though at four releases total (so sayeth Lord Discogs), that's not saying much. In fact, he only added his fourth just this year, a collaborative project with Phurpa called Monad, and which marked Cyclic Law's one-hundredth release at that. Hey, it's only fitting one take their label's milestone for themselves, right? His first Visions album, however, came out way back in 2005 (Lapse), with Summoning The Void released half a decade after. Far as I can glean, this project has more of a space theme, but perhaps all the various cover art of Rorschach nebulae is deceiving me.

Like, opener Dawning does have that desolate, empty, impossibly vast space drone going for it, but it also has clanging bell tones echoing off the far reaches of the cosmic cathedral. Then, is that chanting I hear emanating from the void, as though summoning an Old One from the blackest pitch of the darkest hole of the unholiest realm? Are we lost in space, or did we hitch a ride on the Event Horizon? Which is worse? And speaking of voids, the titular piece lays out droning tones as though they're the horns of Azatoth, with layers of timbre almost suffocating your senses as wailing pads worm and snake about – and dearest me, is that actually an almost hopeful harmony fighting its way through the oppressive atmosphere? Tread not where hope ends in decay and death, o' ye' traveller of the forbidden realms.

The remaining three tracks follow in suite with the openers: lots of thick timbre and echoing drones, with spare musical elements piercing the murk throughout. Overall, I get more of a sense of ritualistic entrancement than sensory deprivation, especially so with closing piece Invocation (its full of stars). I come away from Summoning the Void not with a sense of fear and wonderment of the impossible emptiness that surrounds our little speck of mud, but of being beaten down by all that there is and more that we cannot see or begin to understand. Or maybe it's some handy Halloween music to play when doling out treats for the kiddies. That'll work in a pinch too.

Pleq & Segue - The Seed

Databloem: 2010

For as much as I've name-dropped Databloem, I sure haven't gathered much of their discography, a lone double-LP from Mick Chillage the only release to have entered my coffers. Time to remedy that, said I, and wouldn't you know it, they too offer some bulk rates of their catalogue. Sweet deal, that means I can round out a few discographies of artists I already- no, wait, I should use the opportunity to explore new artists, ones I've never heard before! Like, who knows what wonderful artists I've yet to discover, names like Skua Atlantic or James Shain or The Circular Ruins or Mnnsk. I mean, it worked with another pseudo-ambient label that started in the early '00s, before going completely tits-up. Somehow though, I figure Databloem has some longevity behind it. Call it a hunch.

Anyhow, I'm not going into this one totally ear-blind, as one of the players involved I do know: Segue. Most folks these days know him for his contributions to the Silent Season catalogue, his Pacifica in particular hailed as among that label's best works (eye-grabbing cover art helps). This was released before that though, when he was doing a little collaborative work with a chap named Bartosz Dziadosz, but you can call him Pleq. Now this dude, he's got himself an extensive discography, releasing a few dozen items this past decade on such labels like Crazy Language, Impulsive Art, Dronarivm, Chemical Tapes, and vu-us, vu-us. As he mostly plies a minimalist glitch ambience with modern classical leanings, I should have stumbled upon him sooner, but no, this collaboration with Segue is the fist time Pleq's graced my ears. That Our Words Are Frozen on dataObscura looks intriguing though.

As the Pleq genre-drop implies, we're in minimalist glitch territory here, though I wasn't expecting things to be this loopy and spacious. The Seed isn't a full-on collaboration between Pleq and Segue, only a couple tracks billed as such (The Piano, The Seed, The Mornings Begin Chilly). Pleq crafts two pieces on his own (Lulled By The Rhythmic Creaking, Calm Coolness), Segue gets a solo outing of his own (Late April), and both trade remixes on two tracks apiece.

If this seems confusing, don't worry, you won't tell much difference between the artists within the music itself. This is an album with lots of fuzzy static, clicky-poppy glitch, and minute looping melodies wrapped in a soft blanket of white noise. Melancholy headphone music, to the extreme!

Okay, it's not extreme, but it is very ambient, in that modern glitchy sort of way. I find things are more interesting when there is some form of melody leading things, whether pad work, piano work, or string work – the pure drone-gltich works like Calm Coolness and No Sky evaporate in my brainpan too easily. Overall, I feel like Pleq's aesthetic dominates over Segue's, but as I've only taken in a couple Segue albums, and none of Pleq's (yet), take that conclusion with a pound of sodium carbonate.

Kevin Yost - Fundamentals (The Best Of The Early Years)

i! Records: 2010/2015

I didn't take much away from David Alvarado's contribution to the United DJs Of America series (or 'west coast grooves'), but it did remind me that Kevin Yost and Peter Funk had more tunes to their names than the deep house classic Dreams Of You. And that got me digging a little deeper, revealing that the two – and especially Kevin Yost – have had quite a busy career to this day! And wouldn't you know it, there's a Bandcamp with their stuff. With their music! And their CDs! Oh my!

Damn though, I've a lot of catching up to do. I'd best start at the beginning, and as luck (fate) ordained, Kevin Yost has a twelve-tracker called Fundamentals (The Best Of The Early Years). It was first released in 2010 as a DJ mix CD, but by the powers of digital music, all the original tracks were made available in their unmixed version too. So, I gets myself full versions of Dreams Of You, Another World, Stronger Love and Round Bout Midnight (nine minutes of deep house bliss!), but the DJ mix too, and a CD? There's gotta' be a catch. What's the catch? Oh, I get just the CD, no original digipak included. Well, it has been a while since Fundamentals first came out, so maybe the complete package sold out long ago. And it's not like I haven't received things from Werkstatt that came in little more than a plastic slip-case.

Ah, wait, I should probably fill in a few more details of exactly who Kevin Yost is. I mean, you may know Dreams Of You, but Peter Funk kinda' earned most of the glory of that collaboration (thanks, Mark Farina's Frisco Disco tracklist!). In reality though, Mr. Yost has by far been the more active producer between the two collaborators. He's released at least six solo albums (maybe more, if Lord Discogs isn't being accurate with me – it happens), not to mention numerous other collaborations with folks other than Funk, names like Horace James, Guy Monk, Howard Burns, Danny Walls... you know, jazz guys.

Yeah, if there's anything Yost has built his reputation on, it's infusing right-proper jazz vibes into the deep house template, himself or guest musicians laying out a little extended solo time as a bumpin', groovin' rhythm chugs along in support. Of course, he wasn't the first, nor the only house producer to do this, but he has such a distinct style, you can always tell when it's one of his tunes when it comes on.

And that's the basic gist of what to expect from Fundamentals. Smooth 'n groovin' deep house vibe, with assorted jazzy solos in support (saxophone, organ, flute, guitar, xylophone, probably others). Maybe there's a vocal loop thrown in, but not much else. Nothing else is needed, so why complicate things? With a dozen cuts capturing Mr. Yost's first half-decade of successful singles, Fundamentals is as tidy a primer in his sound as you'll ever find.

Asura - 360

Ultimae Records: 2010

For the longest time, 360 was a reminder of just how down and out my mental state was in 2010. I should have been hyped over Asura's follow-up to Life², ecstatic that the dude that introduced me to Ultimae Records had returned. Plus, the label itself sent me a digital pre-release to review, practically a dream come true, right? Only, my time writing reviews for TranceCritic seemed at an end. I still accepted that digital copy, but felt like a cad doing so, uncertain whether I'd commit fingers to keyboard for them. It didn't help I was still in “MP3 iz bad” mode, with quality playback options limited, so my initial reactions were gonna' be tainted regardless. And then, after playing 360, I came away from it so disappointed, I almost gave up on new music completely. A total over-reaction, true, but man, after suffering through the 'sidechaining era' of trance, hearing Asura indulging it on Atlantis Child felt like a betrayal of Ultima 9 / Mass Effect 3 proportions.

Obviously, I've come around to 360 many years later. Really, there were songs on here that I liked right off the bat regardless (oh man, is Halley Road ever lush!), but that soured first impression curdled any replay desire for a while. It's honestly taken me this long, actually sitting down and analyzing this album for the purpose of a review, that the veil finally was lifted. Yeah, Atlantis Child is still kinda' wonky, in that it sounds more like Charles Farewell tinkering around with new effects rather than making a solid track. The rest though... oh my!

Right, it's no Life², in that 360 doesn't hit quite the same highs as that album does. There's still some honest-to-God quality tunes here though. All of his psy-chill productions (Regenesis, Erase, Longing For Silence, Le Dernier Voyage) hit the same spaced-out, sweet spots as his earlier material, with a few new, glitchy tricks thrown in for good measure. Altered State works a most tasty prog-psy groove, one of the best Asura's ever produced. The aforementioned Halley Road takes the best parts of Galaxies, and cranks the uplifting feels even higher, while Virgin Delight does all it can to melt your heart into PLUR goo (was Solar Fields offering tips?). Elsewhere, El Hai and Getsemani show off Mr. Farewell's orchestral chops, though I'll still take Golgotha over these.

Atlantis Child aside, the only real criticism I can level on 360 is that, as an album, it doesn't flow quite so well. For example, the sombre Getsemani would make for a lovely, reflective closer, but is instead placed two tracks from the finish. I suppose it works as a transitional into the more positive lead-out of Le Dernier Voyage and Virgin Delight, but man, does it leave me emotionally defeated too, not ready to take more music after. Hey, maybe that's what contributed to my 2010 funk! No, it was the other things that were at fault.

Simon Scott - Silenne

Slaapwel Records: 2010

So this is a quaint little label's I've stumbled upon, and boy, do I mean 'little'. Operating out of Belgium, Slaapwel Records has been in the game for a decade now, with a grand total of only thirteen items released. Even at their early 'peak', they barely managed two a year, and have been downright lethargic these past few trips around Sol. Makes one wonder whether they've taken that “music to fall asleep to” manifesto all too well. Still, it's not like Slaapwel's a major enterprise either, their CDs coming off like they were made in the art studio of someone's cottage home, simple high-grade cardboard sleeves with ink-stamped type-face, and a pretty picture literally stitched on the cover. It's any wonder they have enough market share such that I discovered them at all.

Discover I did though, on account of following a lead through Lord Discogs, which led me to their Bandcamp, from which I could order actual physical copies of musiks from their offices. And to think such a thing would have been night impossible ten years ago. Truly astounding times we live in.

That particular lead was Dag Rosenqvist, who's Jasper TX project was any early contribution to Slaapwel's skint catalogue. Another chap who he'd collaborated with was Simon Scott, who also released an album with this label. Simon's biggest claim to fame is one of the early members of seminal shoegaze band Slowdive, and he's flitted among various other bands and projects over the years since (The Giant Polar Bears among the most amusingly named of them). At the start of the current decade, he started releasing material under his own name, Silenne on Slaapwel his third of such efforts. Seems like an odd choice, but since ol' Dag had done the deed as well, Mr. Scott felt it was a decent enough label for a tidy little one-off piece of his own.

And that's essentially what Silenne is, a thirty-three minute long single composition that maintains Slaapwel's stated aim of slumber-inducing sonic bliss. The opening portions of the tune mostly consists of a simple, gentle, looping acoustic melody with delay effects bridging each loop. A soft, low thrum of bass breathes every so often, and vinyl crackles add a sense of randomness as things play out, as though Scott's recording this while clearing stress-filled cobwebs from your head. Eh, I'm not feeling sleepy, just need to give my eyes a little break, y'know. Staring at a computer screen can be taxing and all.

The acoustic plucking gradually fades into a steady drone, receding from the fringes of your consciousness. Assuming you haven't gone to the land of Nod by this point, the remaining two-thirds of Silenne slowly ebbs out with soft timbre and fuzzy effects so subtle and trance-inducing, you'd have to be strung out on amphetamines to not zone out. It's weird saying losing one's attention in the second-half of a lengthy composition is the point, but here we are.

The Oak Ridge Boys - Old Country Church

Gusto Records: 2010

How's it hoppin', Past-Peoples? 2073 Sykonee back again. It's been a while, hasn't it? Not long enough, you say? Ah, what would I know about passages of time. Days, weeks, months... it makes no difference when you keep getting plucked from the future to review music of the distant past. I've no problem coming back to these chaotic times – life is all staid with the Atomic Brotherhood running things, dont'cha know. They keep the lights on, the condos warm, the beasts out, and the net neutral, but glory be, what a plethora of varied musicks you still get to enjoy! I forgot rock could still roll. Eh, the rest of Earth beyond? Pretty sure I've mentioned Red Belters before, and there's other enclaves the Atomic Brotherhood has built beyond Cascadia, for those who believe and all. We don't fuss ourselves with such details, and besides, isn't giving too much future information bad? Why, even letting y'all know that The Oak Ridge Boys remain one of the greatest acts to grace our membranes might be too much.

Well, it finally happened: we've come across repeat songs. I warned my past self it would sooner than he hoped. The Oak Ridge Boys and Quartet may have had dozens of gospel recordings throughout the Nauty-Fifties and Nauty-Sixties, but there are still tried and trusted favourites even in this specific niche of Americana Past. When I Lay My Burdens Down saw tons of compilation duty, including the last one I went over, Hymns & Songs II. The Love Of God also shows up again, and offers a brilliant compare-and-contrast. It's the same recording, for surely, but that Verus Records label took extra care remastering it, cleaning it of vinyl debris, enhancing stereo spacing, and giving the Boys a full range of audio dynamics. Gusto Records, on the other hand, just ripped it from the original record before splunging it onto this compact disc. There's little range, and is littered with vinyl crackles; not the retro warm kind either.

So it goes, Gusto Records purchased the rights to several Nashville labels in the Nauty-Seventies, which included many of The Oak Ridge Boys' prior records. This gave them a wide range of albums to pluck songs from here, even going so far as to include a whopping thirteen as opposed to the standard ten almost every other gospel compilation settled for. On the other hand, the sound quality between songs flies from decent to scratchy. Never unlistenable, but jumping from a 1958 recording to a 1966 one is super distracting when little's been done to clean them up. To say nothing of being spoiled by Verus now.

And then there's one extra song, lodged two-thirds in, that doesn't make a spittle of sense in Old Country Church. It's called Amen (Instrumental by Nashville Guitars), and sounds like a bad karaoke ditty, with cheap synth tones of guitar, strings, banjo, harmonica... How did this end up on a CD with Nauty-Sixties gospel music? Something's not right...