Circular - Nordic Circles: live Nuit Hypnotique #4

Ultimae Records: 2013

In yet another move showing Ultimae was shaking up their release options, the label made available a series of live recordings taken from the Nuit Hypnotique #4 festival, emphatically proving their digital-only game was just as strong as any other psy-chill print on the market. Okay, maybe not those exact reasons, but three sets from the event ain't nothing to sneeze at, Scann-Tec and Hol Baumann also part of the series with Circular. Uh, one point of contention though, in that nearly the whole Ultimae roster of 2011 performed there, including three of the big four in Aes Dana, Solar Fields, and Carbon Based Lifeforms (plus their associated side projects). I appreciate giving the roster's second-tier acts some shine from the event, especially as most of 'em were between albums and could have used more material out there so their names wouldn't fall by the wayside, but man, who wouldn't like to hear a CBL live session too, eh?

And yeah, once again, I'm loosening the leash that is buying digital-only items, as it's clear some will never see a physical option appear, so why deny myself? Now, if I fold and buy something that does have a CD out there, then you know I've gone past a point of no return. Until then, however...

Still, even when it was brand new, Nordic Circles was such an alluring temptation, more music from a group whom I'm fairly certain I enjoy. Like, that Moon Pools album was great, and there were moments from Substans that stuck with me too, so odds were good another collection of tunes from the Norwegian duo would have ace material as well. Also, that cover art, it's so... I'm not sure what it is, but it's eye-catching, that's for sure. Probably part of the visuals from Nuit Hypnotique.

While Nordic Circles contains tracks that are new, about half of them were previously released on Circular's sophomore album Divergent. Wait, sophomore? Didn't they have only one album out on Ultimae at that point? Ah, yeah, I neglected to mention Misters Andreassen and Gjelsvik had three albums out prior to joining the Ultimae roster; quite an oversight on my part. Though let's be honest, getting the Ultimae bump undoubtedly helped their exposure a fair deal (sorry, Origo Sound).

The older compositions mostly consist of minimalist ambient, the sort of music clearly inspired by fellow Norwegian Biosphere, and though Deeper's haunting melody serves as a nice opener, the rest work best as they appear in this set, transitional moments between the more upbeat tracks. Well, 'upbeat' in relative terms, tracks like Top Dive, The Circuit, and Cube Snooze still on that Ultimae psy-chill wavelength. All pale compared to the closer though, Glassy thirteen minutes of groovy, uplifting bliss that will get all your Solar Fields triggers flaring. Man, I say that at least once per Circular review, don't I? There's just something about those Scandinavians who know how to coerce all the feels out of their music.

Porya Hatami And Lee Anthony Norris - Every Day Feels Like A New Drug

Unknown Tone Records/...txt: 2013/2014

Another in Lee Norris' semi-regular series of 'Albums I Made A Number Of Years Ago, And Are Giving Away As Limited Free Bandcamp Downloads To Fans Following My Music, Because You Guys Rock'. It's a nice series, though I can't imagine it being terribly profitable. Then again, given the limited runs of the original CDs, it's not like there's much money left on the table now. Unless you're one of those shysters in the second-hand market, selling music at over-inflated prices because you know there's enough easy marks with collector's cash to make that investment worth the while. How nice of Mr. Norris to bypass all that for his fans who just wanted to hear the music on a streaming service. Still, I do wonder what Porya Hatami's say in all this is? Like, I can only assume he's fine about it, but what if he was hoping to squeeze a couple extra dimes out of a purchasable Bandcamp download from this album? The margin of profit in the ambient scene isn't terribly high to begin with – gotta' get all you can get while the getting's good, amirite?

Every Day Feels Like A New Drug was Misters Norris and Hatami's first pairing, initially coming out on Unknown Tone Records. Yes, it's Yet Another Ambient Label, though I don't recognize it, nor many names there. *sigh* And of course, they have some tasty-looking items too, much to the chagrin of my bank account. At least they're based out of Tulsa, Oklahoma, so shipping shouldn't be that expensive. I hope...

So obviously this album sold out, but given the buzz generated by their other collaboration, The Longing Daylight on Carpe Sonum Records, Every Day Feels Like a New Drug saw a re-issue on Lee's own ...txt print. That CD's likely all sold out now too, hence the limited digital giveaway on Norris' part. Or maybe not, the Hatami-Norris brand of ambient perhaps just a tad too deep on the Mellow Spectrum for all casual costumers of their music to consume. I mean, I sure wasn't in a hurry to hear more of it, only jumping on this album because Norris offered it up for free. I like their stuff, but it didn't exactly leap out from the glut of ambient works I've buried myself in either. Short album lengths don't help either.

Comparing the two albums, I find The Longing Daylight has a little more personality going for it, in that the unique approaches to ambient Norris and Hatami offer come through clearer. Here, I get the sense neither artist really wanted to outshine or subvert the other, so it all mushes together into a similar tone throughout. Soft pads, dusty background textures, glitchy reverb washes, gentle pianos, and bubbling field recordings. And The Birds Flew In A Different Direction sparks my Adham Shaikh memory membranes, but nothing else grabs my attention the way their other works have. Ambient music in its truest form, I guess.

Ishqamatics - Earthbound

Anodize: 2013

Lee Norris keeps giving his music away! Okay, it's as a 'thank-you' to those who were on the ...txt mailing list, as he's relinquishing control of that label to move onto other interests. As for what he's given up for grabs, some of it's been ...txt material, while others were handled by other prints, though as these remain his own works, I guess he has every right to do what he wants with it. A fair bit's been Nacht Plank albums, which I can't say I'm super-keen in nabbing every time – there's only so much ultra-dorky electronic experimental music I'm willing to take.

Not with Ishqamatics though. When Mr. Norris made Earthbound available, I eagerly snatched it up. Yeah, I had lukewarm feelings about Spacebound, but there were enough ideas floating about his and Ishq's creative ether that their other collaborations at least still intrigued me. Of course, the first album he made with Ishq (Spacebound came out a few months after) is well out of print now, so I didn't think I'd get around to hearing it anytime soon. Guess ol' Lee had other ideas for us procrastinating fans.

And boy howdy, am I ever tempted to check out their third record, Waterbound, after hearing this one. This is what I was expecting from these two pairing up, mostly on the rhythmic department. Yes, once again, an album with 'Earth' as a concept isn't afraid to dig its feet into the dirt. We're not talking about anything seriously funky or ass-wigglin' here, of course, but even the soft, dubby pitter-patter of minimalist ambient techno is more body movin' than the pure pad drone of Spacebound, such that I find myself more engaged with Lee and Matt's lengthy excursions. Yeah, even seventeen-plus minutes of opener Sky Hi. It's just so floaty and breathless, like hovering about cirrus clouds, snug in a thermal suit, the stars above tantalizing and teasing out an expedition if not for this accursed gravity well terra firma generates. Oh well, time to fall back to the soil from which we sprung (there's a long ambient outro, naturally).

I think what I prefer most about Earthbound is the fact it's only five tracks long, mostly averaging between ten to fourteen minutes in length. Much as I rib about 'noodly songcraft', truth of the matter is Lee and Ishq have a style that kinda' needs those extra half-dozen minutes to fully germinate in my brain matter, and Spacebound didn't give that opportunity much. It's the only explanation I can think of for how melodic ideas in Ringstone Round here stick with me better than they did in Through The Ringstone there. Same story with Piano Cruxia here, versus Piano Cruxia Subspace there. The extra ambient techno beats don't hurt either. Elsewhere, Angels On The Stairway still provides a mostly ambient outing (Ishq gotta' Ishq), while the titular closer takes us back out to the cosmos in fine fashion. Wait, shouldn't this then be called Spacebound?

Fantastisizer - The Dark Sun

Werkstatt Recordings: 2013

And another one of these! Is this just something that comes with the synthwave scene, where anonymity is a currency as with early dubstep? Not like I have much of a leg to stand on here. I've been on the interwebs for over two decades now, and would like to think I've maintained at least a semi-anonymous presence. You can find pictures and details about myself if you really want to look for them, but I haven't plastered them all over the place for all to see either. If music had been a stronger calling for my muse than writing though, would I still walk this shadowy path through the Information Super-Highway (wow, there's a callback)?

I suppose it would matter just how successful I'd become. A forgotten single or two, who cares where it came from, but if it was even a minor hit, someone would at least be looking at Lord Discogs for additional info. How many details would I want shared, then? Full name and bio? A third-person essay? Just some scrub nonsense? All these Soundcloud kids and Bandcamp bands may not be ready for the limelight that is Discogs Famous, preferring their real lives unintruded upon. Not every amateur producer needs their musical upbringing splayed out. Some just had a few softsynths at their disposal, cranked out a couple tunes on a lark, and happened to get noticed by a digital label who's quality control has no lower limit. It's a tale as old as time.

Fantastisizer's tunes are nicely crafted synthwave tunes though – I wouldn't have sprung for the bulk pack deal from Werkstatt Recordings including it if I thought otherwise. And of course, there's absolutely no additional information of who this is, where they're from, and all that good stuff us 'music critics' are supposed to detail. I suppose if I wanted to do some actual 'journalism', I might use an email and contact Fantastisizer personally, but what if they prefer this anonymity? They (he? she? I kinda' wanna go with 'she' for a change – why should every electronic producer be assumed a 'he'?) does have a Soundcloud and Facebook page that hasn't been updated in a few years, so dead ends there. Even 'her' Bandcamp offers a mere two additional releases before calling it quits in late 2014 [EDIT: Spotify also has an additional track dated 2017, so not abandoned after all]. Either that, or whoever was behind the Fantastisizer alias (gads, do my fingers ever trip over each other typing that name) moved onto another project, though this one isn't outright obscure. At least a couple dozen folks have snagged up tunes from Fantastiszer – the 'name your price' price don't hurt.

Four tunes make up The Dark Sun, all of which doing that slightly chipper synthwave stylee with twee synths and moody rhythms. There's almost a trance vibe to some of these, especially Before Dawn, which I didn't expect. When something's titled The Dark Sun, it ain't the obvious feels you usually get.

Marnie - Crystal World

Les Disques Du Crépuscule: 2013

This is what I mean. Just look at this cover! I know that's Helen Marnie posing there, a somewhat sultry glance your way with latex (rubber?) leggings propped high against the wall. It's something I can easily see a fly-by-night pop starlet do, but the lead singer of Ladytron? The band that's maintained a stoic aesthetic no matter what era of their existence (including that Yo Gabba Gabba! guest spot ...yes, really!). My brain has a difficult time processing it, adjusting to a Ms. Marnie that didn't know could exist. Like, was she always lurking there all along, but didn't want to upset the Ladytron apple cart in all these years? Had she not fallen in with those synth dorks, might Helen have taken a stab at a solo album much earlier in her career? Would such a solo career have led her to retro synth music just the same, or might she have been lured elsewhere, like Brit-pop bollocks? Eh, I can't imagine that, no matter what twisted time-line we find ourselves in. Her muse definitely seems fixated on the ethereal synth-pop of 4AD lore.

Besides, if you squint your ears enough, Crystal World isn't that far removed from the roads Ladytron had been travelling up to that point. She already has fellow 'Tron member Daniel Hunt helping her out in the studio, so really Ms. Marnie's debut solo is like a Ladytron album, just without the other lady or the guy who adds much of the 'tron' to the sound. A slickly produced and polished record, then, retaining much of the songwriting but unencumbered by ultra-retro analog synth noises. Now now, not everyone's a fan of modular Moogs.

Thus the album opens with a sweeping ethereal cry, building upon soft synths and rhythms thick with '80s reverb. Marnie finally drops some poetic nuggets about being The Hunter, and oh man oh man am I ever getting Clannad flashes here – the band, not the anime. Damn, the Irish synth-folk group is even fronted by a lass named Máire Ní Bhraonáin. Too much coincidence for one brain to handle, mang!

Crystal World isn't a total throwback though, production more contemporary than even Ladytron's output typically is. We Are The Sea features a sludgy electro-pop beat, while tracks like High Road, Violet Affair and Submariner touch upon the indie scene's fascination with '60 dream pop. Heck, Submariner sounds like something off Gorillaz' Plastic Beach.

In fact, there's a lot of familiar songwriting on here, melodies that you'll swear you've heard elsewhere (dear God, is Sugarland ever driving me crazy that way). That's not to say Marnie's style-biting, as she owns every piece of music she sings and crafts here. There's just little in the way of challenging synth-pop on hand, Helen more focused on the lyrical content of her work. And hoo, do I ever get swept away by her voice, but then I did even when she sang about mundane things like taking girls to movies. No blame.

L.B. Dub Corp - Unknown Origin

Ostgut Ton: 2013

L.B. Dub Corp is Luke Slater, whom I've mentioned in the past as being a Very Important Person in the world of techno, primarily for his work as Planetary Assault Systems. Following the turn of the century, however, he put that project on hiatus, focusing his attention elsewhere (DJing, label managing, misplaced stabs at crossover material). During this period, he released a couple EPs cashing in on that trendy dub techno action of the mid-'00s, this here alias its outlet. They didn't garner much attention, and L.B. Dub Corp would likely have been left a footnote within Mr. Slater's discography.

At the start of this decade though, Luke signed a deal with techno tastemaker Ostgut Ton, reviving P.A.S. in the process. Folks got super-hype in his output after that, giving him enough clout with the Berghain print to release more material from his side project too, the result of which being this here debut L.B. Dub Corp album Unknown Origin. And a good thing too, because we can always use more music in the Bandulu stylee these days.

Wait, isn't L.B. Dub Corp a dub techno thing, as is in the Basic Channel stylee? At first, yes, when doing Basic Channel clones was all cool an' hip, but there's plenty of those, and Slater wasn't adding much to the discourse making it. Nah, 'tis a far better thing to do, exploring the tribal side of dub techno when so few ever do anymore.

And Luke doesn't waste time letting you know where this album's heading. Opener Take A Ride gets in on a shuffly, broken dub rhythm with husky whispers uttered from famed rasta poet Benjamin Zephaniah. Nearly Africa and Ever And Forever lay out a bobbin', minimalist grooves, echoing chants, dubby pianos, and spaced-out synth leads. Elsewhere, L.B.'s Dub offers up some vintage heavy Bandulu rhythms, while No Trouble In Paradise inches things back to the lands of Detroit without ever losing that tribal dub fell. To close out with I Have A Dream, an opulent tribal-dub sermon with Zephaniah preaching celebrating multiculturalism, I can't think of a better vibe to end a record on. Shame Mr. Slater doesn't, then.

Four more tracks take us out of Unknown Origin, but they don't have much in common with the Afro-tekno that cames before. Turner's House and Generation To Generation stick to classic Detroit vibes, while Any Time Will Be OK reminds us that L.B. Dub Corp was a serious dub techno project at one point. Roller with Function sounds like a something initially intended for the P.A.S. albums, but contains enough of a dubby, tribal thrum to warrant inclusion here. None of these are deal breakers for this record, just less interesting paths taken compared to the unconventional roads the first half of explored. Considering we haven't seen any new L.B. Dub Corp material in the half-decade since Unknown Origin's release, maybe this was all Luke needed to make to satisfy that Afro-dub techno itch he had niggling at his muse.

Lars Leonhard - Stella Nova

Ultimae Records: 2013

I liked 1549. I liked Passengers At Night. Why haven't I gotten any Lars Leonhard musiks since? Dude's gone mostly independent, is why, which mean self-releasing his work now. Fine and dandy, but that also means he no longer has that label backing for manufacturing hard copies, and for too long I was a stubborn bastard about buying digital. I'm now a new man though, with new perspectives and new facial hair, including lightening my spending reigns on Bandcamp options ...if there's a discount code involved at least. Thus it's only appropriate that when Ultimae offered one, I picked me up a non-physical copy of the EP that first introduced me to Lars Leonhard, Stella Nova. Finally get to hear what's behind those shiny reflective spheres!

And if anything, holy cow do these three tracks mark as close to a 'ground zero' in the label's shift into dub techno's domain as any. Right, the spacious, dubby downtempo sound was already part of Lars' style, but glancing over the surrounding releases in Ultimae's catalogue is illuminating in hindsight. Prior to this, you had stuff like Solar Fields' Origin #2 (to date still his final release), Aes Dana's uptempo Pollen, and final entries from Carbon Based Lifeforms (plus Sync24), Cell, and Hybrid Leisureland (as Connect.Ohm). After Stella Nova, you find that Passages compilation, Aes Dana's collaborations with Miktek, and eventually Martin Nonstatic. Circular's Moon Pool feels like an outlier where Ultimae went after this EP.

The titular opener is about as you'd expect of downtempo dub techno, reverb and echo tones drifting in endless space with sub-bass frequencies a guiding rudder. There's a tiny, spritely melody some two-thirds deep, reminding me of an old Alter Ego tune called Chinese Eyes. Wow, Stella Nova's a modern minimalist-dub version of that, now that I think about it.

Whispering Colors has more breathing room at nine-minutes in length, and follows in a similar path as Stella Nova, though with a flowing, swaying swing to its rhythm. There's also more melody present in this tune, but the dubby stabs still dominate most of the frequencies. Hidden Places gets on that bleepy techno vibe with cascading echo effects pinging about. It's about as far from what you'd expect from the Ultimae sound of yore, but definitely what you'd expect from Ultimae of yeh'e. I don't know what the present-tense of “yore” is.

That's all there is to this EP. If you're at all familiar with Lars Leonhard's brand of dubby downtempo techno, you're in safe hands here. Stella Nova comes more off as an introduction of the man to the Ultimae faithful, testing the waters whether his sound would jive with a label known more for its psy-chill output. He did release another EP with them the following year (Burning Clouds), but by the time he came out with another full-length, he'd gone back to BineMusic for the deal. Kinda' feels like ol' Lars was one that got away from Ultimae in the end.

Ishqamatics - Spacebound

...txt: 2013

Finally focusing on two projects for the first time, for the price of one! ...kind of. Lee Norris, I've obviously talked up plenty now, but haven't gotten into the alias that started it all for him: Metamatics. Maybe I will at some point – it's not like he's put it into mothballs – but dude's got so much music out there, I gotta' prioritize a little. As I've only 'discovered' Mr. Norris a couple years ago, of course his recent projects get my attention first. As for Ishq, I've heard a track or two over the years, have seen the name dropped in many familiar labels and compilations. The main guy behind the project, Matt Hillier, was something of a journeyman in the early '90s before breaking out with Ishq, and has had a rather productive career ever since.

So, Ishqamatics, yet another Norris pairing from that fruitful year of 2013, when he was hooking up with nearly everyone for some collaborative work if they released music on his ...txt print. That included Ishq, so naturally Lee looked over in Matt's direction and said, “That's a mighty fine sound you have there – wanna' connect?” So they did, even contributing a track to the indispensable Pete Namlook tribute set Die Welt Ist Klang (it always comes back to that, doesn't it). By the end of 2013, two albums resulted from the Ishqamatics sessions, one for the label Anodize (Earthbound), and another for ...txt, Spacebound. The latter sold out quickly, because of course it did, but demand was so high that another run of copies was manufactured. Hurrah, I could get me a copy as well! I mean, I ought to check it out, what with it being the default music on the ...txt homepage and all. Must be Very Important Music for such an honour.

Well, it's space ambient, that much is sure, which is something of a surprise where Ishq is concerned, having built a rep' for Earthly zen music and all. Hillier's tones do come through often, contrasting quite nicely with Norris' more frigid electronics. Sometimes the Ishq stylee dominates, as in the lengthy Bound To Earth featuring sitar drones for much of its duration (whoa, getting Shaikh flashbacks). Lots of noodly, droney, spacey ambient follows that track, field recordings coming and going before being sent back out into the cosmos. Sometimes there's glitched-up radio chatter, and a little jazz ditty plays from an overhead speaker in Round The Ringstone, but if I'm honest, there's little to detail, droning synth tones and minute melodies the name of the game here.

Spacebound is alluring, engaging, and flowing as an album, always leaving me like I'm drifting out in space while remaining tethered to terra firma. At the same time though, not much really leaped out at me either. It's an odd one, where everything I hear is exactly what I like to hear, but imprinting little upon my brain afterwards. Maybe there's something to be said for the unexpected.

Akshan - The Rise Of Atlantis

Altar Records: 2013

Might The Rise Of Atlantis have been one of Altar Records' most anticipated albums? For sure DJ Zen's print has a number of core acts that folks eagerly await new entries in their discographies, but most of them were established producers before joining ranks. Akshan, on the other hand, came practically from nowhere and smashed it with his debut The Tree Of Life, a record easily on par with the best Altar had to offer. You're damn skippy folks would be anxious to see what he'd come up with next!

And boy howdy-dowdy, they didn't have to wait long, his sophomore effort emerging but a year later. Man, at a work clip that fast, Akshan must have over a half-dozen releases by now. Er, not quite, a lone 'unreleased versions' EP coming the same year as The Rise of Atlantis, and nothing else since. There is a previously unheard track on some 2016 compilation from Hadra Records (AstroPilot and Kaya Project also appear), so maybe Vincent Grenier's been laying quiet working on new material in all this time. I dunno' though, you'd think someone who came out so strongly would have parlayed his initial momentum into more material than that, even if but a yearly trickle of tunes on Altar compilations. Was there some falling out? Akshan figuring he said all that he needed to in two albums? Got a better paying job at a lumber mill? The Rise Of Atlantis flopping?

I can't imagine that last one being the case at all. While not as dynamic as The Tree of Life, this is still one solid LP of... y'know, I can't in good conscious call this prog-psy. Yeah, this is out on a prog-psy label, there are sonic markers that remain popular in prog-psy camps, and I'm sure Very Important prog-psy DJs played tunes off here. There isn't much befitting the 'psy' demarcation on here though. Most of the cliches associated with the scene are absent, perhaps a few tonal touches and not much else. I'm more comfortable calling The Rise Of Atlantis a straight-up progressive trance album, with elements of prog-psy. Not to mention soundtracks for fantasy video games and features. Seriously, the opening titular cut should have an epic credits crawl as a camera zooms in on some amazing, CGI-enhanced vista. Reminds me of how Asura opened Life².

All nine tunes are solid offerings of progressive trance, but The Rise Of Atlantis does suffer from one notable flaw: it's all kinda' samey throughout. Akshan doesn't mess with formula, building his tracks with strong rhythms and trancey leads, each tune featuring a good, unique melodic hook at their peaks. Aside from final cut Calling The Ancients though, which hearkens to vintage Juno Reactor, all these tracks maintain a steady, prog-psy pulse, which does deflate the album's flow when each piece ends. Would work much better as a continuous mix, and there is such an option through Altar's Bandcamp. Just a shame the CD didn't have it too.

Wednesday Campanella - Rashōmon

Tsubasa Records: 2013

If you've paid any attention to the comments section this past season, this just might be the singularly most-anticipated review of an artist I've ever done. True, it's just one individual, but I'm sure the rest of y'all were at least a little curious what the fuss was about. And I cannot deny I was somewhat intrigued by the prospects of diving into something I'd never have stumbled upon in my own music wanderings.

Almost everything I've ever consumed from Japan has had some domestic influence and distribution first. Ken Ishii's brand of techno still has ties to Detroit heritage. Hybrid Leisureland's brand of ambient isn't much removed from the works of Brain Eno and Harold Budd. Koichi Sugiyama's orchestral arrangements are practically homages to European classical and American bop. Even J-Pop, the forever soundtrack to every anime credits sequence ever, takes its cues from whatever the West was doing first. It's exceedingly rare that I'll hear music direct and unfiltered from The Land Of The Rising Sun.

This though, there's no mistaking its place of origin. Artist name completely in kanji, the title a reference to a famed samurai (or at least the Akira Kurosawa film of the same name), And just look at this cover, the lead singer dressed in a kimono while chillin' at a tea house. I bet it's some sort of traditional folksy stuff, then, or maybe lounge jazz, in a very Japanese style. Ooh, opera, even! Time to throw some green tea on the stove, order in some take-out sushi, and get culture-fied!

And... it's EDM. Huh. Well, I can honestly say I wasn't expecting that.

I should get into some actual background before going any further. The group involved is 水曜日のカンパネラ, or Suiyōbi no Campanella, or Wednesday Campanella. Comprised of vocalist KOM_I, and producers Kenmochi Hidefumi and Dir.F, the group have gained some note in their homeland for encompassing a myriad of genres with broad appeal, such that they've recently found footholds with Western audiences too. After a few early EPs, Rashōmon gave them their first taste of chart success, though barely so.

As said, the music itself is basically what you'd expect of most EDM this past decade. Tracks like Monopoly, Motoko, Marie Antoinette, and Fujiko do the anthem house thing with big, shiny synths and plucky hooks. Some tracks get in on that light, brisk broken-beat action (Hoshi Ittetsu, Alibaba God Emperor), others paring it down to a chill, lounge pace (Char, Takehisa Yumeji). And while the EDM influences dominate, there are traces of Japanese tonal harmonies and instruments scattered about. As for KOM_I, she sounds nice throughout, hitting enthusiastic vocal highs where appropriate while injecting playful raps here and there. Apparently the lyrics mostly deal with people of historical import, but I wouldn't know, English the only language I've learned with any fluency. Like Latin house though, that doesn't prevent me from enjoying it on a purely dumb level either.

Rapoon - Psi-Transient

Aquarellist: 2013

I first stumbled upon Rapoon way back in my initial ambient explorations, and have consistently seen his name crop up ever since. However, an impossibly high work-rate has left Robin Storey with an incredibly daunting discography, Lord Discogs listing over seventy albums to his name. Hell, there's over twenty listed since Psi-Transient dropped four years ago! And that's not to mention his pioneering work with seminal dark ambient act Zoviet France before he went solo. So a regular busy-body all said, one I probably wasn't ready to take a plunge with back when, but definitely ready for here-now. Only trouble is where do I start? With a discography this extensive, I'll have to do some serious research, verify expert opinions, study scene influ- oh, never mind, I'll just buy this particular one I see on sale at Reverse Alignment's online shop.

Along with his Zoviet background, one of the things that made Rapoon stand out in the nu-Nineties ambient scene was his inclusion of ethnic and tribal sounds. This could be anything from drums, woodwinds, or chants, but always manipulated in such a way as to fit his looping, droning sound experiments. I honestly don't know how much of this has carried over to his recent output, as there's no possible way I'm taking in all of his music in such a short amount of time. I'd need a full day to just get through what's offered on Spotify alone, and there's not a person alive with that sort of attention span anymore. What I can tell you is if you're expecting some of that ethnic styling in Psi-Transient, you'll be left wanting.

Fortunately, I have such little knowledge of Rapoon's overall output, I come in with no preconceived biases. On the other hand, I've no clue where Psi-Transient exists within his oeuvre. Maybe nowhere specific, Mr. Storey striking me as the sort that follows wherever his muse takes him. If that means shovelling out music created for its own sake, then so be it.

For instance, opening track Shake Root prominently features distorted, thunking rhythms, and had me thinking I'd be in for some noisy, industrial-leaning sonic assaults; definitely not something I was expecting in the slightest. Then follow-up track Sentire goes mellow with gentle synth tones and looping, dubby drums pitter-pattering in the background. Ah, feeding off that old-school ambient techno vibe, then. Nah, scratch the 'techno' part of that, the next couple tracks strictly synth pad noodling. Then we're treated to some modern classical dalliances, More Halls And Afternoons Of Sun a gentle piano piece, In Voice We See mostly orchestral strings played in reverse.

From there, much of Psi-Transient flits between ambient drone and experimental modern classical pieces (ooh, trumpets in Smoke Glass Weed, like elephants trippin' on acid!). It's all very strangely captivating music, in a wall-papery sort of way. A fairly pleasant album, all said, though maybe not the best introduction to Rapoon's music. Which of his seventy albums are, though?

Out Of The Box - Out Of The Box

Werkstatt Recordings: 2013

So Werkstatt Recordings was unexpectedly generous in the swag they included with an order of mine. While not Ultimae levels of extras (no incense sticks), receiving various stickers from several releases is a nice touch – satisfies a collector's itch I didn't even know I had. The Greece label also threw in a couple bonus CDrs inside a single slipcase, one of which lacking cover art. In fact, all it has is “Out Of The Box Promo” scrawled in felt pen. “Cool,” thinks I, “Werkstatt's sending me sneak peaks of upcoming releases. How nice of them.” Nope, that's not it at all.

Turns out this already had an official release, four years ago. I mean, obviously so, if there's artwork available. It's the same seven tracks as found on Bandcamp, and there was even a proper limited run of CDs done too - probably, like, twelve copies though, as Werkstatt's really skint with physical mediums. Since Out Of The Box is clearly well past its 'promo' window, why did I receive this? Did Werkstatt have it lying about the office, and threw it in just because? Did they feel I'd get a kick out of the music within, but would never have stumbled upon it on my own? Are they planning a re-release with limited tape copies? All very good questions that honestly don't need an answer. 'Tis all just rather odd, y'know.

And who is this Out Of The Box that Werkstatt felt compelled to include with an overseas order? One Liam White, turns out, though Lord Discogs states this his only release under the moniker. He's released a half-dozen more items as Sick Robot, both with Werkstatt and self-released, most of which falls under the EBM, electro, and retro-trance side of things. Far as I can tell, Out Of The Box was his shot at breaking free of those constraints. Why, you could say Liam's forcing his way through an enclosed space into an open beyond.

First track Common Ground doesn't stretch too far from his comfort zone, though it's definitely a rougher shade of techno compared to his usual fare. Fire In The Sky says nuts to all that, and goes full neurofunk, making this the second Werkstatt release I've covered in a row that's tread into drum 'n bass' domain (the... odds!). That's followed upon by Lost And Found, a slow tech-house groover that erupts with flashy synths midway. And seemingly going out of his way to prove he's a genre-jack of all trades, fourth cut Matter Of Time gets in on that retro-trance action I mentioned earlier (doesn't sound quite “Eighties” enough to be space-synth).

The final run of tunes sticks to electro and tech-house vibes, but it's clear Out Of The Box is intended as a big ol' showcase of Mr. White's eclectic muse. A bit too eclectic, if I'm honest, the genre-jumping rather scattershot in make a lasting impression. As something different from the Werkstatt norm, however, 'tis not bad at all.

Cryobiosis - Within Ruins

Cryo Chamber: 2013

Another day, another artist on the ever expanding Cryo Chamber roster. Seems I can't go a few months without talking about someone for the first time on this label. Heck, in a way, I've already covered nearly all of them in one of those Cryo Chamber Collaboration albums, but it seems I'm on an unconscious task to give Every. Single. Artist. on Simon Heath's print their own special spotlight too. Including this one, I've now talked up twenty-three artists with music on Cryo Chamber, and there's still a bunch more I've never mentioned (Aseptic Void, Dark Matter, Wordclock, Metatron Omega, Paleowolf, Hoshin, and more... oh God, are there ever more!). Is this dark ambient outlet becoming its own version of a black hole, seemingly sucking in all manner of musicians into its bleak gravity well? No, that can't be right – I've come across quite a few other labels with just as massive of contributors to their discographies. Cryo just has something that keeps me poking about more, wondering how this new name or that overlooked producer might offer a different spin on the genre's morbid aesthetics. Also, sweet, sweet CDs to buy. Gotta' have ma' physicals!

Cryobiosis isn't exactly new to the Cryo family, in fact one of Mr. Heath's earliest recruits to the Chamber house. Cristian Voicu first debuted with From The Depths on GV Sound, yet another dark ambient/drone/experimental net label that's harboured such talents as SiJ, Songs From A Tomb, Morbid Silence, Astral & Shit, Radio Noiseville, and... Primus? Uh, anyway, ol' Simon liked Mr. Voicu's voice enough to invite him over for an album deal. He's released two since then, Within Ruins the first of them. It's fairly easy to hear why the Cryobiosis stylee caught on with Mr. Atrium Carceri, both having an ear for those post-apocalyptic tones and atmosphere, exploring abandoned dwellings in decayed husks of civilization. It's just, going by this album, Cryobiosis doesn't quite have the same sense of narrative flow as Atrium Carceri does.

For sure his craftsmanship with each track is easily on par. Opener Enthrall has all the morbid drones, discordant pads, and skritchy sound-effects that have you feeling like your wandering the broken rubble of old buildings. Some tracks offer piano calm while fumbling through dripping ceilings and puddles of black water (Frigid Silence, Recollection, Forgotten). Others ramp up the claustrophobic field-recordings and forlorn tone (The Corridors Beneath, Corroded, As The World Decays, Departure). And some pieces are pure depressive drone as you wander aimlessly through the dark (Murkfall, Through Debris).

Where am I going with this though? What exactly am I seeing? Is there a story behind the scenery, or does it exist only for its own sake? There's merit in such an approach to the genre, but I cannot deny being spoiled by many Cryo Chamber releases crafting distinct stories guiding me through more than vivid, unrelated imagery. If that's all Cryobiosis set out to make though, then Within Ruins definitely succeeds there.

Ugasanie - White Silence

Cryo Chamber: 2013

We've had too much sunshine on the West Coast this summer. Even the nearby Sunshine Coast is looking up at fat ol' Sol and asking, “Dude, let up a little?” And no, blotting out the sun with a thick haze of forest-fire smoke doesn't count. If anything, it makes it worse, scattering the sunlight such that it heats the surrounding air even more, creating intense humidity even us city slickers find suffocating. Why can't it be like the clogged atmosphere of a deep, cold winter, sun rays reflecting back out to space from whence it came? If I can't experience a winter in the summer, I can at least vicariously live one through another album from Mr. Malyshkin, and all his bitter, frozen ambient textures.

This is the first of (currently) four albums Ugasanie released on Cryo Chamber. Yep, took me this long to finally get to where it all began with this partnership, but an important one nonetheless. For most of its initial years, Simon Heath's print promoted the standard dark ambient styles most associate with the genre: post-apocalyptic mood music, industrial bleakness, psychosis soundtracks, with a dash of the ethereal occult for flavour. White Silence added an additional layer to their grayland tapestry, that of remote isolationism within bleak, frigid settings. It's an aesthetic that others had explored in years past, but it was Cryo Chamber's first foray into such frontier, establishing a fearless streak that no dark ambient domain was off limits, no matter how fringe.

Of course, you're wondering if Yet Another Ugasanie Album is worth your time, especially if the previous ones I've covered are entirely too niche in topic for those only just dipping your ankles in dark ambient's onyx waters. Studies in northern madness, aurora borealis meditation, and weirdness in Tunguska are find and dandy, but sometimes folks just wanna' wander the tundra wastes on a sight-seeing tour. Spoiler: there's a whole lotta' nothing out there, maybe a stray bird call or wolf howl piercing the emptiness.

Still, as White Silence was an introductory of sorts for Ugasanie with the Cryo Chamber posse, it's only fitting that the music within is rather broad in scope too. Track titles like Permafrost, In The Northern Lights, Under The Cover Of The Polar Night, and Tundra Fogs usually help set the tone of most other albums from Mr. Malyshkin, but here they're simply another piece of the polar picture he's painting for us. Even the opening track, The Island Of Terrible Death, doesn't lead us to a specific event, merely taking us to the titular shore for a look-see before moving on. Ooh, creepy and ominous.

Another thing that separates White Silence from other Ugasanie albums is his use of melodic timbre. Yeah, it's still that minor-key dark ambient synth pad, but it's more than the typical atonal drone he does in most of his works. That just might make this album his most accessible, if anything in this scene can be deemed as such.

Space Dimension Controller - Welcome To Mikrosector-50

R & S Records: 2013

While this album technically isn't Jack Hamill's debut as Space Dimension Controller, it sure feels so. His actual debut LP was a digital-only item released four years prior on Acroplane Recordings, Unidentified Flying Oscillator. I don't recall much buzz surrounding it though, most folks instead intrigued by a debut single released that same year, The Love Quadrant. R & S Records especially liked the cut of that record's space-funk jib, so ol' Jack hooked them up with a few lengthy EPs, earning him critical plaudits with Very Important music journals in the process. Naturally an album was expected following that buzz, but Welcome To Mikrosector-50 wasn't like anything folks anticipated. For Mr. Hamill sought nothing less than to take the Space Dimension Controller concept into the realm of a fully-fleshed narrative, concrete plot and all. Oh my, who even does that in techno anymore?

The year is 2357 A.D., helpfully parlayed by the opening chill track 2357 A.D. Jack Hamill moonlights throughout this story as Mr. 8040, introduced in the following track of Mr. 8040's Introduction, a proper throwback electro-funk jam complete with hippity-hop rapping. Then there's a brief ad-skit shilling for the marvellous Mikrosector-50 habitat, followed by the free-wheeling space-funk jam (you're gonna' read 'funk jam' a lot in this review) of To Mikrosector-50, with a little more info dropped by Mr. 8040 regarding who is and what he do. Following that, there's another brief skit, where our hero consults a computer regarding the whereabouts of his lover/wife/beneficial-friend. It's about here that you realize you're not dealing with a regular ol' clutch of tracks, but an unfolding story with music acting more as a soundtrack to Mr. 8040's journey to find the love he lost.

His trip takes him through various sections of the Mikrosector. A chill guitar-funk jam of Your Love Feels Like It's Fading. A rather synthwavey tune of Lonely Flight To Erodu-10. A failed club pick-up in the house-funk jam of Can't Have My Love (with heavenly vocals from 'Kat Kirk'). A seedy excursion into an underground acid-techno [funk] jam of Rising (Detroit called, it wants its retro-future back). A shameless hooker score in Quadraskank Interlude (about as down and funky low as you'd expect). And even a narrative excuse to return to the first SDC tune in Love Quadrant.

Yet it's all for naught, his search proving fruitless. Having exhausted any hopes of finding peace in this future, Mr. 8040 leaves to the bouncy Detroit techno of Back Through Time With A Mission Of Groove. It's a tidy wrap-up to the album's tale, save a cheeky stinger hinting that perhaps there may be more in store for the Space Dimension Controller in all our futures.

If you're the sort who wants new tunes with nothing attached, the various skits throughout Welcome To Mikrosector-50 will likely frustrate. Me though, I'm all about that album narrative score. If anything, I'd love to see this translated into movie format. Or at least a graphic novel a la Perturbator.

Valiska - A Day As A Blade Of Grass

Inner Ocean Records: 2013

I name-dropped this label a few months back, partly as a quip in yet another list of obscure ambient prints so many producers float to and from on. The only thing that honestly caught my eye regarding Inner Ocean Records is the fact it’s a Canadian outfit, not that anyone reading that particular review would know it (or maybe so, if they’re Porya Hatami completists). For whatever reason, I checked Inner Ocean a little deeper, and intrigued by their wares, snatched up every single CD their Bandcamp had on offer. All two of them. Quite a few cassettes though. Eh, I’ll pass on that format, thank you.

What’s even quirkier about that ‘splurge’, is of the two CDs I got, this particular release from Valiska, barely constitutes a traditional CD release. A Day As A Blade Of Grass is a single track, lasting all of twenty-four minutes, plunking it in the realm of EPs. It’s also the sort of release I’d expect to stumble across in the CD3 format ‘90s ambient labels would indulge in, before digital means rendered them moot. I’m surprised mini-discs haven’t also formed their own comeback as a hip collectable – they’re certainly no less impractical than tapes in our modern age. Maybe if Blood Music starts distributing them, we’ll see a resurgent market of CD3s.

Valiska is Krzysztof Sujata, and hails from Calgary (Inner Ocean’s base of operations), despite what you might assume based on his name (Polish India?). Although given the nature of the music within this album-EP-composition, it wouldn’t surprise me if he did originate from some Eastern Europe bloc homestead, that region flush with experimental ambient shoegaze-drone sorts; you sure don’t think of Canadian prairie country when it comes to this sound. He’s released about a dozen items this past decade (so sayeth The Discogs), some through his own means, others on various obscure experimental net labels that skew towards the indie rock side of things. He also happens to do digital mastering, so if you need a spit-shine to your drone-gaze glitch-twang demo tape while checking out the Calgary Stampede, give him a shout.

Though I currently lack the needed citation, I’ll assume A Day As A Blade Of Grass aims to literally capture what it’s like to live one’s life as a blade of grass – lawn, pasture, open field, Icelandic roof-top… any type of poaceae. Dawn breaks with tranquil, ambient pianos, solar photons providing our grass with vital energy to aid in photosynthesis. Soon though, abrasive, caustic distortion and guitar feedback emerge, disrupting the once calm mood. The animals and machines have come, trampling your space with hoof, claw, boot, and tire. Grazers chomp and chew at your surroundings, seldom leaving you a moment’s peace. Other sounds – reverse tape loops, detuned strings, grinding and clattering, feed a harrowing third act, respite only granted as the day finally recedes into night, our singular blade still alive for another day. Man, who knew grass had it so tough?

Czarface - Czarface

Brick Records: 2013

Much as I’ve enjoyed Inspectah Deck’s rhymes in the past, it didn’t look like the album market would ever yield an all-time classic. Some dope moments scattered throughout, but nothing that compare to most of his Wu-Tang brethren. And it appears even Mr. Hunter had come to this conclusion too, 2010’s Manifesto his last proper album, and seemingly his final one as a solo artist. He may drop a mixtape here and there, but for the most part he seemed content moving on, supplying guest verses for Wu affiliates while working the touring circuit. It’s where the real money lies anyway, and there’s plenty back-catalog between his material and Wu-Tang hits that he could ride the rest of his career out that way.

Then I started hearing buzz about Czarface, sprung up practically overnight. Could it be true, a Rebel INS project that finally captured all the fiery MCing I loved from his early Wu verses, wrapped up in some nebulous nerdcore concept? No way it could be that dope, and true enough it wasn’t quite that, but definitely enough going on here that talk of “the old-school fire is back” and “career renaissance” have steadily built Czarface up as one of the hottest, throwback underground groups around. Oh yeah, did I forget to mention this is a partnership between Deck, Esoteric, and 7L? How remiss of me.

Truth be told, I don’t have much to say regarding the DJ and One MC combo of 7L & Esoteric, because I don’t know much about them at all. The names have floated on the periphery of my attention since their breakout at the turn of the century, always in association with underground hip-hop acts that commanded a little more mainstream attention (now isn’t that an oxymoronic sentence!). I didn’t dig further though, as I always got 7L confused with either the riot grrl punk band L7, or the R&B singer LV (aka: the sweaty guy from Coolio’s Gangsta’s Paradise). How I got a DJ mixed up as either, I haven’t a clue, though never actually taking in a 7L & Esoteric production certainly didn’t help matters. And I didn’t hear great buzz about them in all these years because the duo hails from Boston. Unless you’re a serious head, underground hip-hop hype from the Massachusetts capital won’t break through on my side of the continent. And I’m a Basic Casual at best.

Anyhow, Deck had collaborated with the duo before, and when they approached him with their idea of a vintage boom-bap rap album that’d play to both Rebel’s and Esoteric’s lyrical style, Mr. Hunter joined forces to form Czarface. Throw in guest spots from Ghostface, Action Bronson (plus others I don’t recognize), and a few productions from DJ Premier too, and you’ve got an instant underground hit. One that must have got the creative juices fired up something fierce, as two more LPs were released in short order. Which I got as well. Oh yes, Czarface will return soon, my friends.

Atrium Carceri - The Untold

Cryo Chamber: 2013

Yeah, not even the comparatively small block of albums that the letter ‘U’ occupies within my collection is free of a Cryo Chamber release. For sure absolute runt sections like ‘J’, ‘Q’, ‘V’, and ‘X-Y-Z’ lack them, but give the label time – I’m sure there’s some Old One deity that has one of those letters in its name, waiting in the queue for A Cryo Chamber Collaboration. Or I could simply pick up the first Cryo Chamber CD, Atrium Carceri’s Void, help speed that the process up. The… O.C.D… compels me…!

After spending much of his new print’s early existence providing digital releases of old and new material, it wasn’t long before Simon Heath took his original dark ambient project into new territory. No longer content in exploring cellblocks and seishinbyouins, he pondered what lay beyond the ruined city-scapes, whether there was more mythos to unearth. The Untold essentially re-launched Atrium Carceri with this in mind, to give his long standing followers the untold story of this broken world. And hey, if you’re just joining us because you wandered in as a Sabled Sun fan (*cough*), it’s a handy jumping on point without getting bogged down in a bunch of back story or loose continuity. Who knew dark ambient projects could be so alike to comic books?

Even with a glance at the track list, The Untold’s narrative is clear as day (heh, genre oxymoron). The Expedition, Unlocking The Seal, The Way Down, Catacombs Of The Forgotten… pretty obvious we’re on an archeological expedition here, though given the occult nature of Atrium Carceri’s themes, we might want someone with a little guts in our lead. Who knows what ancient treasures both grand and gross lurk in this forgotten realm?

The music, such as it is, alternates between sample-heavy works painting a cinematic canvas guiding you deep into this journey, and droning dirges reflecting the despondent, suffocating mood as you make your way through. A few moments offer a respite, such as crackling, ancient piano pieces at the tail end of A Flickering Hope and throughout Comfort Of The Night Mother, but the surrounding noises and droning ambience within these tracks make it clear the darkness is forever lurking at the edges of whatever feeble light you’re huddled around. Some garbled, menacing dialog forces its way into The Traitor as mournful pads and crunching, stomping static makes it sound as though someone’s being led to execution. Great Old One features distant, echoing horns as rain pelts away at your surroundings, as though you’re coming into view of a crumbling cathedral where whatever civilization once existed here found solace. And if you thought there was any positive denouement to The Untold, a twelve-minute long deep drone awaits you at the end with Ego Death.

I rather prefer the follow-up to this album, Metropolis, in that there’s a grander sense of journey in the Atrium Carceri mythos there. This one’s still a solid entry in Simon’s world building though.

enCAPSULAte - Fetal Position

Waveform Records: 2013

If I’m gonna’ splurge on new stuff from Favorite Labels, I might as well do the same for one of my first Favorite Labels. Only trouble is Waveform Records barely releases much of anything anymore, instead focusing on their Starseeds radio show. And even when they do put a record out, it’s almost always something from Sounds From The Ground or ZerO One - whom I do like but it’s nice hearing from other artists as well. Whatever happened to those heady, early ‘00s days, when Waveform was releasing material from all manner of names (Bluetech! Omnimotion! Phutureprimitive! Pitch Black [nz]! Skin To Skin!). I realize the record label business is a harsh mistress, and all things considered it’s remarkable Waveform’s endured for over two decades when ‘market domination’ or whatever was never on their minds. They could benefit from a couple more fresh signees though; maybe someone making dub beats lurking on one of their new Hawaiian island neighbours?

Relatively speaking though, enCAPSULAte is a new signee, first appearing with the label in 2009. He still went by the name Capsula then, dropping the album Sense Of A Drop. Prior to that, he debuted with Ajana Records, the psy-chill and dub offshoot of Trishula Records. And holy cow, I can’t believe I’ve now gone Six Degrees Of with the dark psy print on this CD. I had no idea of this connection, simply picking up Fetal Position because it was one of the newer albums from Waveform (also, I like blue). Naturally the man behind the alias - Yosef Shamay – would find a new home after Trishula ceased operation, but on Waveform? The odds, mang!

Ah yes, psy dub, a genre this label’s often flirted with but never seriously committed itself towards. I can’t say it’s why I pick up Waveform CDs to begin with, though the few I took a chance on by whim turned out ace. I was leery about enCAPSULAte after first track Imaginary Gods though, very much in the Shpongle/Ott mold, and sounding incredibly digital and plastic as so much post-millennial psy does. And I freely admit that’s entirely my fault, what with having just indulged the lush sound quality of Ultimae, Silent Season, Cryo Chamber... who could live up to a run of widescreen sonics like that?

Once I got over my aesthetic bias however, Fetal Position warmed itself through sheer creativity. Some tracks like Loosey Goosey and Dark Blanket Of Night go too psy-dub hammy for my taste, but others like Guardians Of Sanity and Overall Pattern tickle my trippy groovy sensibilities just right. Mr. Shamay shows little fear in bucking conventions either, Alice In Spiral Land making use of honest-to-Shiva Amen Breaks, The Hoax a shufflin’ acid jazz outing (with heavy emphasis on the acid), and Krishna Krazy more of a breakbeat thing with a wonderfully daft sample that’d have Dr. Alex Paterson keeling over in glee. Plus finishing off on a pleasant piece of mysterious Indian ambient? I’ll take it!

Ghostface Killah & Adrian Younge - Twelve Reasons To Die

Soul Temple Records: 2013

Mr. Coles could keep making Ghostface origin-story albums until the end of his life, never running out of fresh angles on the subject. And really, what else is there left to rap about as the G.F. Killah? Most of his early material centred on standard hip-hop topics: street tales, mafiaso aspirations, commanding the microphone with skill above his peers, bragging about his success in sales, within the sheets, and all that good stuff. However, no matter how impeccable Ghostface presents the material, it does grow repetitive after a while when the subject’s been so thoroughly covered for over two-decades now. So, instead of rapping about all that real shit, let’s get conceptual and rap about blaxploitation vigilante stories or Italian mobster horror stories, all linked by how the Ghostface Killah came into being. Sounds like fun!

This story goes as thus. Tony Starks (Mr. Coles’ mafiaso alias) raised through the mob ranks from hired hitman to self-made man. This naturally pissed off all the DeLuca old guard, and Ghost’ doesn’t mince words in how his skin color added extra fuel to the ensuing turf wars. How dare a black man gain so much power, but there’s little they can do about it, Tony’s influence growing ever stronger in the lands of gangster clichés. Everyone has their weakness though, and sure enough, Starks is lured into a trap by a femme fatale, taken out like so many Scarfaces. In typical high-mobster fashion though, it’s not enough to execute him on the spot, his enemies concocting a ridiculous post-death humiliation. His remains are melted down into vinyl, pressed into twelve records owned by those who perpetrated the crime. Damn, I bet those slabs of wax go for just as much as that one-copy Wu-Tang Clan album.

Well, buyer beware, for there’s a twist to this story benefiting an episode of Tales From The Crypt. Turns out Starks’ spirit endured, haunting the records such that should you play one of them, he’ll emerged as the Ghostface Killah looking to exact a revenge most gruesome indeed. The second half of Twelve Reasons To Die details all the myriad ways his enemies meet their ends, and no one is spared. From the heads of the DeLuca family that ordered his hit, to the women and children they spawned, Ghostface shows no mercy or remorse in his wrath. Guess Wu-Tang Clan ain’t nuttin’ to fuck with even after they die.

Twelve Reasons To Die was seen as something of a career resurgence for Mr. Coles, his last critically hailed album being Fishscale seven years prior. It didn’t hurt that he’d paired up with the emerging, highly touted funk and soul producer Adrian Younge, who approached the project as though scoring a classic Italian horror film from the ‘60s; if said film was shot in the Bronx, anyway. It proved such a success that the two paired up again for a sequel this past year. Ooh, Rae’s a supporting character on that one? Tickle me piqued!