Lustmord - Dark Matter

Touch: 2016

It’s improper of me starting an inexplicable dark ambient collection without gathering up releases from some of the agreed-upon legends of the scene. That’d be like getting into trance without checking out Oliver Lieb, or house music without copping Frankie Knuckles. Not to mention digging techno while ignoring the Belleville Three, or taking in jungle without a single Goldie single – my lone copy of Inner City Life on a Canadian compilation saves me such indignity.

So Lustmord was an obligatory purchase sooner rather than later, and to be honest, I’ve had my eye on the chap’s material for a while. His earliest material was in the vein of experimental stuff industrial artists were doing in the ‘80s, but along the way he adopted the lengthy drones of ambient composers, plus a fascination for the haunting emptiness of ancient caverns and the cosmos itself. He probably wasn’t the first to do it, but his 1994 album The Place Where The Black Stars Hang is widely regarded as the definitive example of space dark ambient, an LP frequently namedropped by all those who came after. You bet it’s on my list of “One Day, Eventually” albums I must own!

For now though, I’ll take in something more current, and it just so happens Lustmord returned to the realm of universal drone this past year, with Dark Matter. The concept is familiar enough with anyone that’s followed this style of dark ambient: take the natural, electromagnetic sounds of the cosmos – from the smallest molecules and charged particles, to the largest solar flares and quasars - and do as you will with them. Sampling these sounds is practically part of space ambient’s gene code now, especially ever since the Jet Propulsion Laboratory released their Symphonies Of The Planets series, recordings of planetary electromagnetic signals captured by the passing Voyager probes. These recordings are such a staple now, they’re almost cliché. Perhaps that’s why it took Lustmord this long to fully explore its potential - he felt it a classic case of “it’s been done.”

Or he was waiting to have complete, unfettered access to all the N.A.S.A. audio archives rather than those few commercially released ones. A man with his standing would definitely get that eventually, thus Lustmord finally gives us a full taste of cosmic drone, complete and utter in its various sources. And… I can’t really explain much more beyond this, can I? Folks familiar with electromagnetic sound experiments will be enthralled in the journey Lustmord takes with them, while the rest won’t have much inclining of what’s going on.

Of the three tracks here (each breaching twenty minutes apiece, though the first nabs a hefty seven extra for itself), only Subspace offers anything resembling music, and that’s soon subsumed by the cosmic drone too. There’s an ever-present deep thrum of drone, as though the universe is breathing, and sounds proper-huge when you crank your stereo. Your neighbors will wonder if there’s a black-hole core in the building.

Ugasanie - Border Of Worlds

Cryo Chamber: 2016

Winter is done. It’s over. Finished. Us pampered folks on the West Coast of Canada no longer must deal with the snow and the sleet and the ice and shmulsh and the canceled buses and trains. Nothing but spring weather from here on out. Wet, yes. Cold at times, definitely. The air suffocating with seeds, spores, and pollen? Sure, but it beats dealing with delayed flights due to white-out conditions. This is why I live at sea level, after all, and not in the mountain regions of my land, where winter doesn’t end until June. Or the Northern regions of my province, though I’m pretty certain their winter ends a little earlier.

Point being, for yours truly, winter is no more, so it’s about time I take in another album of bitter cold dark ambient from Ugasanie. Hey, what can I say? The Arctic reaches continuously fascinate me, the inhospitable, impassable alpine tundra captivating me. Lands where only the heartiest of species have a hope of surviving. I mean, just look at that mountain range on the cover art. Just look at it! What hope have thee, of traversing such imposing, insurmountable icons of icy escarpments? No seed may take root, no hoof may climb, no wing may navigate, but for certain peril and doom assured. To lay eyes on such natural wonders of our world – awesome in size and terrible in domain – to even have hope of hiking across their frigid, treacherous paths… is such a thing I’ll never achieve. Remember, pampered Vancouverite. That doesn’t stop me from getting my Consciousness Displacement on though, imagining such vistas as I take in the blasting-cold sounds of this particular style of dark ambient.

In Border Of Worlds’ case though, such sounds are window dressing to Ugasanie’s main focus, taking a trip into a shaman’s trip. It’s a concept Mr. Угасание has explored before, the deep dive into primal forces of the human mind and spirit, as endured by those in some of the most remote, isolated places of our globe. Call Of The North dealt with a sort of ‘Arctic madness’ such regions may cause on those susceptible to auroa borealis’ dancing charms. This undertaking is a proper trek into the inner psyche though, taken by shamans of tribes that dwell in the northeastern portions of Russia. Oh, and mushrooms are involved too.

Even for droning dark ambient, Border Of Worlds is thick with the drone. Most tones and field recordings sound impossibly distant, whether from the isolation of northern winter huts, or feelings of being withdrawn within as the shamanic trip takes hold. There’s sounds of tribal drumming (Obfuscation), howling winds/wolves (White Death), haggard breathing (Initiation), and staggered hiking (In Cold Arctic Winds), almost all of which are buried by the unrelenting drone. Some tracks do offer glimmers of tense, melancholic tonal harmony, almost as a tease out of whatever intense mediation is taking place here. For the most part though, Uganasie offers little respite in this journey.

Chihei Hatakeyama - Above The Desert

Dronarivm: 2016

As important it is finding reliable artists and labels that sustain your music cravings, even more important is the trusted shop that exposes you to something new and different. Well, maybe not radically different – gotta’ stick to that comfort zone, after all – but at least material you’d have overlooked had the staff’s recommendations not steered you in that direction. One of the surprising options I’ve come across is Ultimae’s shop at their website. Of course they shill their own material, but offer up quite a few other items from other sources too. Now isn’t that mighty classy of ‘em, letting competing labels hawk their wares on their webspace (for a small financial reparation, I’m sure). Once a year I peruse the Ultimae Shop, and have come across some mighty fine selections indeed, including Distant System, and the compilation Absence Of Gravity, my first exposure to AstroPilot.

It is under such circumstances I’ve now come into audio contact of Chihei Hatakeyama, yet another in the bottomless bay of drone ambient musicians. Seems he’s had a tidy solo career the past decade, a few dozen albums to his name. Naturally, that’s more than I’ll ever get to listen to, but if I’m gonna’ do a review of this latest(ish) album of his, Above The Desert, I’d better get some discographic knowledge-son crash coursing through my earholes. Let’s see what Superion Spotify has on offer.

Ooh, quite a few of his albums, turns out. Guess I’ll just fire up his most popular ones for a sampling and- wait, what’s this? His top track, Ferrum, has over five-and-a-half million plays!? Holy cow, that’s astounding! I had no idea he was this popular! How’d I ever miss-

No, wait, most of his top tracks linger in the five-digit range. Very respectable numbers for an ambient drone artist, true, but it looks like this Ferrum is an anomaly, only a couple six-digit hit tracks even coming close. Why did this one track do such damage? Was it featured on an HBO Original soundtrack? Namedropped by Wolfgang Voigt? Did Buzzfeed include it in a 14 Drone Masterpieces You Must Hear RIGHT NOW! feature? So many questions…

As for Above The Desert, I can definitively say this is indeed another Chihei Hatakeyama LP of pleasant drone ambient. Timbres blend into an amorphous tonal soup, where it doesn’t seem like much happens if you play it in the background, though layers do emerge with a little focus. There’s always something distinct humming underneath the main pads – soft clattering in Before The Sabbath, creaky field recordings in Wind In Mind, gentle guitar strums in A Placid Mountain Lake. Most tracks run an average of seven minutes, with a whopping nineteen-minute piece to close out. The Tower Of Babel’s a curious track too, always feeling like it’s wrapping up soon. Yet it just keeps on going. And going. And going. Never ending, forever traversing whatever path ol’ Chihei leads it along. It’s like a dancehall rapper of noodly pad work.

Sabled Sun - 2148

Cryo Chamber: 2016

After completing his third Sabled Sun album, 2147, Simon Heath put out the idea of taking the project into its past - prior to the current protagonist’s cryo awakening, and to the point of when it all went wrong. While I’m sure some would love a little insight into the Sabled Sun backstory, I can’t say I was one of them. The project’s strength lies not in How Things Came To Be, but rather How Might Things Move On. Whatever caused this cataclysm can be revealed through the course of our protagonist’s journey, for seeing how he copes with this hostile environment is a far more compelling narrative, especially where dark ambient is concerned, what with the genre’s frequent themes of isolationism and all.

Regardless, it appeared Mr. Heath was content in letting the current focus of the Sabled Sun tale take a respite of some sort, ending 2147 with a sufficient amount of hope as allowable given the circumstances. After the first two years/albums presented us with despair and ruin, the third showed signs of recovery, a world not completely dead, though undoubtedly untamed and feral, civilization in total remission if any remained. Though but a glimmer, it was enough optimism to look forward to the future. Thus, it seemed our protagonist had enough of his sickly wanderings, and went back into his cryo sleep, perhaps reviving in a world better recovered from when he first woke. Sadly for him, one year later is hardly enough time.

Again, though the specifics are left vague enough for your own interpretation, 2148 does mark a departure from previous Sabled Sun albums, in that our protagonist is dealing with a different situation. Instead of wandering desolation and ruin in search of answers and survival, something more specific is taking place. Upon re-awakening, the tone is more claustrophobic than before, an environment much different than the one 2147 left off. There’s less sense of open world discovery, instead poking about a specific location, as though trapped in a facility that, while not fully functional, is still active enough that it raises questions of who left the power on. Is it automated? Might there be other survivors? How did he even end up here? And what, pray tell, is Project Locus Arcadia? It certainly must be important, given it’s the second longest track on 2148, and possibly the most ‘musical’ among all the typical sci-fi field recordings and dark ambient drone expected of a Sabled Sun CD. If anything, Project Locus Arcadia sounds like an homage to John Carpenter, though done in Cryo Chamber’s brand of post-apocalyptic tone.

But more than that… dude! Locus Arcadia again! I’ve joked about this label having continuity between their releases, but does this actually confirm they’re going this route? Does this mean we’ll have to start collecting Cryo Chamber albums like comic books to keep speed with their ongoing narrative? Has any label attempted such a thing!? This is, of course, all suppositional, but still… Dude…!

Banco de Gaia - The 9th Of Nine Hearts

Disco Gecko: 2016

I shouldn’t feel like Banco de Gaia’s last album, Apollo, is still a recent release. It’s been three years since it came out, and Toby Marks has provided us with numerous items in that time. Singles, remix albums, 20th Anniversary re-issues, expansion of his Disco Gecko print to include music from outside artists. For all intents the Banco & Co. brand has been busier than its ‘90s heyday, which should leave Apollo already a distant memory, this newer, fresher album of The 9th Of Nine Hearts tingling and tugging at my earholes in anticipation. That super-long gap between albums prior to Apollo must have jaded me some, figuring ol’ Toby had turned into one of those “eh, whenever” musicians that was content riding out his past works into the sunset of his career. Sure am glad this album proved me totally wrong on that front!

If Apollo was Mr. Marks finding his ‘90s mojo once more, then The 9th Of Nine Hearts finds him fully expanding upon it with all the song-writing skill attained since then. More consistent throughout, more nuanced in themes explored, more confident in reviving old ideas in service of a new era, this is the album casual fans had been hoping from Banco since… well, whatever they figure was his last, official ‘Best LP’. Pretty sure it isn’t anything from his wayward ‘00s era.

This one though, it’s got spiffy worldly beat-jams (Le Foucauld, No Hablo Italiano), rising proggish rock-jams (Burn The Witch), and throwback ambient dub with guest Pink Floyd saxophonist jams (The Princess And The Sky Goat - and yes, that’s Dick Parry horn tootin’ again). Then there’s ultra-throwback dance cut 91, where Marks teams up with vocalist Sophie Barker (of The Egg’s Walking Away fame) for a retro-rave tune that’s proper old-school acid house in tone, but nice and crisp for contemporary ears.

Amongst all these tunes are plenty of downtempo and ambient tracks that show off Banco’s matured songcraft over the years. Opener Nine Hearts has a widescreen, dream-pop tone with swelling synths and piano doodling. Bookmarking the album is another piano piece in This Heart, incredibly soft, gentle, melancholic, but strangely optimistic too. Not sure why it reminds me of Neil Young’s piano folk – maybe it’s my only real frame of reference to piano music of this sort?

Elsewhere, Warp And Weft gets all ethereal and trippy with Banco’s ambient dub, Midnight Sun goes full-on ethereal, and the middle portion of the album is highlighted by two contrasting pieces. Seriously, Is-Is Loves Anhk-An-Atum and So We Dream Of Futures Lost work so well together, I thought they were the same track on several early playthroughs. This actually happened with a few tracks on this album, 9th Of Nine Hearts one of the best flowing Banco albums in ages. In fact, if I’m to level any significant criticism against it, it’s almost too smooth for the amount of musical diversity on here. I can live with that.

Scann-Tec - Unyt

Ultimae Records: 2016

My brain is playing tricks on me again, convincing me of things that are true despite clear evidence to the contrary. I get the sense I’ve seen the name Scann-Tec around for some time now, and that part is somewhat accurate, some of the chap’s earliest material appearing on the 2006 Ultimae compilation Fahrenheit Project Part Six. And while I can’t claim he remained a fixture within the Lyon-based label’s activities, his name has cropped up enough times that I’ve come to think of him as at least hovering around the Ultimae bench, though around the eighth or ninth man position. Or maybe a young prospect in the minor leagues that was drafted many years before, but hasn’t had a call-up yet beyond a few exhibitions games (compilations). Dammit, I haven’t watched much sports this winter – these analogies shouldn’t be so prominent in my brain-pan!

If I can’t resist it, then let’s take it all the way: Unyt is Scann-Tec finally getting the opportunity on the starting line-up, his first full-length album on Ultimae. He’s had a technical album out prior, a live recording in the label’s Live Nuit Hypnotique digital series that featured mostly second-tier acts. He also made his actual debut seven years ago, Facial Memories on Celestial Dragon Records, which was well received by the psy-chill camps. In the meanwhile, the man behind this moniker, Vladislav Isaev, has consistently worked with a group called Sundial Aeon, who’ve released seven albums this past decade, mostly on Impact Studio Records. So though he’s only just now properly getting a spotlight on Ultimae, Scann-Tec has definitely spent plenty of time honing his craft.

Thus it shouldn’t be too surprising that Unyt is a solid album all around. For one thing, it has more melody going for it than I’ve heard from an Ultimae release in some time. Oh, so wonderful to hear those twinkling synths in opener Snova I Snova, and that lovely melancholic violin in Quantum Evo, and the subtle piano in Klinostat, and, um, the pads in the ambient closer Turgenev, though the bit of Russian dialog kinda’ drowns it out. Okay, so there isn’t that much melody in this album, but it’s more than you seem to typically get out of Ultimae these days.

For the most part though, Unyt sticks to minimalist downtempo and dub techno, and I cannot deny this is some of the most utterly spacious dub techno I’ve heard in… ever? For sure this style is all about exploring the emptiness between sounds, yet I’ve seldom heard stuff as aurally deep as what Scann-Tec provides here. Laying back, listening to this album on the ol’ Sennheisers, and it feels like I’m wandering huge, open landscapes, each sonic layer urging you to explore deeper, like a pull-in shot with a classic Disney multiplane camera. If this is in fact Ultimae-head Aes Dana taking his mastering techniques to a whole new level, then Hell son, the label’s future is brighter than ever.

Perturbator - The Uncanny Valley

Blood Music: 2016

I keep bringing this up with every Perturbator release now, but I can’t help it, fascinated by Blood Music’s dedication to their artist. They go bananas in the various ways you can own a physical copy of Mr. Kent’s music, putting most labels to utter shame with their swag. Even top-ten producers of electronic music don’t get such a roll-out as this synthwave maestro does. Lord Discogs currently lists fourteen different releases for The Uncanny Valley: this includes the usual coloured records and tapes Blood Music offers, but multiple box-set versions too, with patterned artwork on the vinyl itself (the blood splatter one appears particularly popular). And did I mention the graphic novel? There’s a graphic novel with The Uncanny Valley! Me being CD-me though, I had to settle for the lone, requisite digipak option that- wait, there was a deluxe CD option that included the graphic novel and a bonus EP? Well f

I have to wonder whether James Kent always had ideas for a comic or novel or short film series with this ongoing tale of Perturbator: Night Driving Avenger before settling on music. Because if The Uncanny Valley is any indication, he must be sitting on a wealth of material for future use, continuously building upon his future-shock dystopian universe with every release. This time out, he’s added a fembot cyborg partner in his avenging exploits, plus a whole new antagonist in the Cult Of 2112. Seriously, are there any other electronic producers as dedicated to story arcs as Perturbator? Metal bands, sure; some hip-hop projects, definitely! But techno or house? Hardly, producers content at making tools for dancefloors or headphone commutes. Who’s got time for ongoing narratives when there’s singles to sell?

Of course, having a story arc linking your albums together might seem as little else than a gimmick, one that falls flat on its face without the music to back it up. And synthwave, a scene often filled with shifty retro-gimmickry, doesn’t lend Perturbator many favours without some evolution in his sound. Fortunately Mr. Kent is well up to the task, The Uncanny Valley his strongest album-album yet.

It’s got all the hallmarks of a strong musical narrative, with opening settings, reflective interludes, pulse-pounding climax, and philosophical denouement. Whereas his previous outing, Dangerous Days, was relentless in hitting you with the action, The Uncanny Valley spaces things out more, exploring different moods and tones while leaving plenty of room for those mint Perturbator high-octane cuts (holy cow, that Assault on The Cult Of 2112!). The opening tracks throw some wrinkles in his style too, Weapons For Children and Death Squad slowing things down some, treading into EBM and New Beat’s domain in doing so. That’s followed upon by a noir-jazz outing in Femme Fatale, because of course he’d go there eventually. Meanwhile, little beatcraft tweaks and sonic twerks add extra dynamics to his productions, leaving The Uncanny Valley some of Pertubator’s most accomplished song-writing I’ve heard. No pressure topping this one, lads.

Pantha Du Prince - The Triad

Rough Trade: 2016

Pantha Du Prince is Hendrik Weber, a very important person in the world of techno. Along with analog-loving sorts like The Field, he helped ease the scene out of its stuffy pretentions by injecting playful, melodic elements within. It was a desperately needed development following the dry, dank era of minimal ‘this are serious music’ techno, and ol’ Pantha toed the line between tough, functional beatcraft and heart-tugging sentimentality as capably as any producer. By the time his Black Noise album dropped in 2010, folks were so warmed by his charming bell tones and shoegazing timbre, the transition from minimal tech-house singles was practically an afterthought, proclaiming this was the proper Pantha Du Prince stylee all along. Well, except for those stubborn hold-outs from his earliest Dial days – sorry, guys, he ain’t going back to the micro-haus anytime soon.

Still, Black Noise came out in ye’ olde year of 2010, such an age ago compared to where techno has developed since. Bringing melody into your works is no longer such a taboo stylistic choice within this scene, all manner of producers getting their analog pad and hypnotic arp works on. Some see it as the growing influence of indie musicians ‘discovering’ techno (thanks, Pitchfork!), thus bringing their tricks of trade into the scene as well. For sure the shoegaze side of things has long shared attributes with chill-out genres (going by a wack moniker of, ugh, ‘chillwave’), but that it penetrated the traditionally uptight techno scene was remarkable. Oddly, whenever I hear this stuff, I keep thinking of trance music, albeit of a far classier sort than you’ll often find labeled as such. All hail ‘neo trance’!

What I’m trying to get around to saying is Pantha Du Prince’s style of shoegaze-tech-minimal-neo-prog-haus isn’t the shining beacon of light within a dour scene it once was – plenty of producers have caught on that you can make techno that’s rather chill too (but not ambient techno, that’s something different). That leaves his long awaited follow-up to Black Noise - The Triad - existing in a strange no-man’s land of expectations. Folks adored the last record, but are they really hankering for a return to that sound after so long, and with so many other options now available? And what of that all-important Artistic Evolution we demand of our techno heroes? Whatever is Pantha Du to do?

Carry on from Black Noise, it seems. The Triad is just as melodic with the bell tones and shoegazy with the floating vibes, though perhaps a little lighter on the dancefloor effectiveness. There’s a few tough basslines about (Chasing Vapour Trails, Lichterschmaus) but this is one subdued record compared to his early material. Ol’ Pantha’s far more interested in exploring open spaces between his beats and bells, with floating vocals, layered instrumentation (guitars, yo’!), and expansive pads edging his music ever closer to the domain of progressive house to my ears. I therefore dig this album, though it’s so stubbornly mellow, I find my attention drifting too often.

Apócrýphos - Stone Speak

Cryo Chamber: 2016

I can tell we’re nearing the end of this massive backlog, because this is the last of all those Cryo Chamber CDs I picked up this past year. Except for the stragglers hiding out in the letters below ‘T’. There’s also another small bundle I recently bought too (darn winter sales…), but y’all will have to wait until the (hopefully not-so-dread) year 2017 for reviews on those items. Ooh, suspsense…

This will be my thirty-first Cryo review (!!), twenty-seven of which I’ve done in the past eight months (!!) (!). I know I keep reiterating this point now, but despite having such an ‘unpresidented’ crash course in dark ambient, you’d think I’d be growing hip to the tricks, trades, and clichés the genre has to offer. Such to the point that I can guess how an album of the stuff will play out with but a glance at the cover art and track titles.

Like Stone Speak, from Apócrýphos. It’s got weird looking obelisks in the middle of a desolate landscape, a region that looks ravaged by volcanism, everything reduced to ash. So some sort of cataclysmic natural apocalypse went down, and these mysterious looming towers are either the cause or the monuments to said event. Hey, the 2010 monoliths literally blew up Jupiter to create a new star, advancing the evolution of creatures living under the ice of Europa. Maybe something similar is going on with this picture, a sacrifice of sorts so others may live and thrive in their stead. That would suggest music within with some ritualistic connotations (because obelisks), but generally eerie, dreary ambient and droning dirges, reflecting on the aftermath of said cataclysm. See, no trouble at all.

Well, I was mostly on point. Robert Kozletsky, the man behind Apócrýphos, began the project with The Prisoners Cinema on Canadian print Cyclic Law. Later that year, he joined the Cryo crew with the collaborative album Onyx (featuring Simon Heath as Atrium Carceri, and Cyclic Law mainstay Kammerheit; aka: Cities Last Broadcast). Prior to that, he worked with Jakob Detelić as Psychomeanteum, and with Kyle Carney as Shock Frontier. A solid resume in a short period of time, all said. Mr. Kozlesky’s angle is taking strolls through abandoned macabre areas (old burial grounds, ghost towns), recording the still sounds that permeate such locales. That would explain the sense of recently deceased I get from Stone Speak …how can you capture that on tape anyhow? *shiver*

Only six tracks make up this album, most around the nine-minute mark. The first few develop in similar ways, a lengthy empty drone with field recordings establishing a mood, eventually morphing into dark, reflective pad work to end off; tracks in the back-half of Stone Speak generally evolve in the reverse direction. Some of these pad tones do an impeccable job tugging at the ol’ emotion endorphins (wow, Tenebrous is lovely), which I honestly did not expect from this record. Seems dark ambient still has a few tricks up her sleeve yet.

No Mask Effect - Quick Smart

Psychonavigation Records: 2016

It was a long time coming, about fifteen years before it came to fruition. Some said it could never happen, the odds just too against all conventional wisdom. The effort it would take, the soul-searching undertook, making sure the event was justified and earned. That it wouldn’t be some flight of fancy spurred on by nagging sense of unfinished business, but the culmination of years – nay, decades!(ish) - of plucky perseverance, vile guile, and steadfast conviction that this day would come. Yes indeed, folks, my collection of Albums starting with the letter ‘Q’ has finally doubled to a whopping two whole releases, No Mask Effect’s Quick Smart joining the lonely domain Jurrasic 5’s Quality Control lorded over for so long. Oh, and Keith Downey, label head of Psychonavigation Records, also makes his producer debut with this album too. Woo!

Okay, I can’t claim I intended to get Quick Smart for that reason alone. Come to think of it, I didn’t plan on getting it at all. The bizarre Ambelion reissue of Trance ExperienceI did though, and when I ordered a copy for myself, No Mask Effect’s album showed up instead. Uh huh… Well, maybe this could turn out intriguing too. Keith Downey’s been label running for over fifteen years, hearing plenty of musicians in that time from various facets of ambient, downtempo, IDM, and shoegaze. What sort of sounds would he incorporate into his own works? Blissy ambient drone? Groovy chill techno? Effects-drenched guitar jam wank? Yet another Boards Of Canada ‘homage’?

Nah, none of that – well, a little of the first. Mostly though, Quick Smart is a field recordings album, musicality almost nonexistent beyond some abstract pad noodling. Opener Downtown makes use of eerie tones as sounds of passing vehicles, chirping birds, rumbling motors, and brief bits of distant dialog overwhelm your ears. It honestly sounds like Mr. Downey took a microphone stroll through a park beside a highway rather than a major urban centre, creating a weird disconnect between soothing calm and jittery unease. Sense sounds more like bustling downtown, what with noisy crowds and vehicle activity, all the while an unrelated tribal rhythm percolates underneath. And will someone answer that damn phone, fer gads’ sake! Fourth track Grass is practically a white-noise assault with the cacophony of field recordings in play, the only thing musical here being some buried bits of… Beethoven, I think?

Really, the only track on here worth a look-listen is third cut Transfer Of Deed, Pt. 1 & 2, and at over twenty-one minutes in length, I’m sure ol’ Keith intended it as such. The first half features some rather pleasant ambient pad work before all d’em field recordings enter the fray, while the second part goes for a more throbbing approach to the craft. At least this piece is carried by actual music, though rather muddied and minimalistic. And if I’m in the mood for that, I’d sooner plop on Andrew Heath again. He’s at least subtle with his field recordings.

Prins Thomas - Principe del Norte

Smalltown Supersound: 2016

Along with Todd Terje and Lindstrøm, Prins Thomas formed a trifecta of Nordic producers with a love of chintzy disco music set among the stars. Heck, Thomas and the ‘strøm One started out as a producing duo, way back a decade past, and the trio have mingled off and on since. Prins put out a consistent stream of singles in the meantime, finally biting the solo album debut bullet in 2010, and remaining remarkably consistent in his output since, a fresh long player of music every two years. And lo’, earlier in this Dread Year Of 2016 (when the Dread Year wasn’t so dreaded), Mr. Thomas came correct with another album for our enjoyment, this time a double-LP effort. ‘Cause when five of your nine tracks average twelve minutes long, you gotta’ spread that stuff out over multiple plates of wax.

Principe Del Norte is also a small departure from Thomas’ typical brand of cosmic disco, the first CD casting its eyes to another form of ‘70s music less focused on dancefloors but no less rhythmic: Berlin space synth. Lots of pulsating arps, spritely pads, escalating sequencers, and all that good stuff. What it definitely is not, is ambient – far too much rhythm going on for that – though a nice chill vibe does permeate throughout. A1 provides a solid, throbbing low-end with its contrasting arps, A2 treads towards ambient techno’s domain, while B gets indulgent with effects for much of its running time. On side A of vinyl two, C starts feeding freely off those vintage kraut vibes, and D shows no fear in going as full space synth as one can without kicking out a standard beat – plenty of percussion though.

(note: a truly admire Thomas’ pisstake approach in how he titles his material – one of these days I’ll hear 2 the Limited, mark my words)

Alright, now that ol’ Prins got his artistic wankery good and out, time to turn on disc two for some right-proper club vibes. And Principe del Norte, Part Two doesn’t waste any time providing us with some boogaloo, E reusing elements of A1 and A2 for a bumpin’ bit of deep disco funk out on the moon. F opts for the swelling pads ‘n effects road, so show no shame if you need to reach for those lasers while grooving to this one. And G, well gee, if this one don’t beat all with its steady rhythm and shimmering arps – why, trance, is that you sneaking in again? Don’t worry, the nu-disco hipsters actually like you a little now. H, on the other hand, knows it’s taking us out at that 4am timeslot, and brings a deep tech-house grumbler filled with distant dub. No doubt Berghein approved.

So I liked this double-LP a good deal, as did many folks with more journalistic cred’ than I. No doubt Principe Del Norte is gonna’ feature on all the Very Important Year End lists. Better get this to claim you’re still ahead of the curve, then.

Segue - Over The Mountains

Silent Season: 2016

While Silent Season doesn’t have any particular core acts, there are a few producers who’ve frequently come back over the years. ASC’s practically made the label his second home now, while Purl, Shaded Explorer, and Edanticonf have contributed multiple times. One name that significantly sticks out for me, however, is Segue, as it was his album Pacifica that first drew my attention (that cover art!). It came out in 2013 though, when the Gospel Of Silent Season was thoroughly spreading out from the ranks of ultra, in-the-know dub techno disciples, so my crossing was inevitable. More interestingly, Segue was among the initial producers releasing material for the label’s 2007 netlabel launch – his Nostalgia EP ranks number two in catalog order. So, in a way, the adored dub techno print’s success might not exist without Segue’s help…? Yeah, that’s a stretch, but a fun little coincidence nonetheless.

Or maybe not, Jordan Sauer, the man behind the alias, originating from Vancouver. Makes sense then, the Silent Season posse would be familiar enough with his work to invite him over for a release or three. He’s floated about several labels since then, very little I’m familiar with (Sem Label, Dronarivm, Dtabloem), though he also had his own shared print in db (Duckbay). A fairly typical floater of a producer, all said, his most prolific output well in the past now. Guess Mr. Sauer was feeling a tad nostalgic for his homeland, returning to Silent Season once more, with an ode to those most rugged of West Coast terrains, the Coast Mountains. Sure, the Cascades get all the hype, what with their sexy volcanoes and geomorphic jewels (mm, Crater Lake…), but for pure, untamed alpine awesomeness, the Coastal Range is tough to beat our here in the West.

Some track titles will be instantly familiar to locals, though aren’t necessary to understand the music behind them. Sunshine Coast is all warm and fuzzy with glowing pads Boards Of Canada would swoon over, all the while a lazy hazy dub rhythm floats along. I know the folks around Gibsons are hippies (Green Party 4 lyfe), but maybe Sunshine Coast is a little too on the nose? Sea To Sky goes a similar dub route, spritely melodies sprinkling about as a heavy bottom end grounds the listener. Deep Valley has more a charming jaunt going for it, while Summits & Spires is almost a lullaby with its languid synths and deep dub. And hey, while you’re hanging out on these alpine glaciers, take in a little Aurora, opening Segue’s rich sound into a wide nightscape canvas?

I suppose the other tracks work for the setting, though they’re more generalized to any ol’ mountain range: Celestial, Exposure, Alpenglow. They too keep to Segue’s languid dub techno pace, though with the ample amount of local field recordings Jordan injects into his tracks (so much bird song in Exposure), it helps keep Over The Mountains firmly within British Columbia’s realm. Okay, maybe a little Cascadia too.

Space Dimension Controller - Orange Melamine

Ninja Tune: 2016

I thought I’d have talked about Space Dimension Controller well before now, his Welcome To Mikrosector-50 a most pleasant surprise of an album when it came out in 2013. Then again, I thought I’d have nearly completed this massive listening project too, well passed the ‘W’s, and maybe even considering taking on the first few letters again for this blog’s completionist sake. Then again-again, I should have known more music would have come into my collector’s gravitational pull, sucked into my domain like so much cosmic detritus. My desire to consume everything and all knows no bounds, more insatiable than an unholy merger of Galactus and Unicron (Galacticron?). Good God, imagine if I could actually afford all that I wished to buy? I’d probably still be somewhere around the ‘G’s! (so much fabric, so much Global Underground)

Jack Hamill, the young man controlling all this space dimension, has kept a sporadic rate of output since first emerging with the moniker in 2009. R & S Records gave him his first major break in promoting his early singles and proper debut album, but he’s floated among a few other prints in the meanwhile too: Kinnego Records, Royal Oak, and now Ninja Tune. Whoa, talk of unexpected developments – what would the Ninja crew have in mind with a producer primarily focused on electro and loving nods to Detroitism?

Releasing the Space Dimension Controller archives, it seems. Orange Melamine unearths material from Jack Hamill’s teen years, back when he was still figuring things out about where he’d take his wayward muse in love with retro sounds. Seems the UK underground was just as much on his mind, as this album’s filled with jittery, post-dubstep beatcraft, a style Ninja Tune has shown plenty of interest in (at least, much more than R & S). In fact, Orange Melamine has a fair bit in common with all those influenced by Burial’s romanticism of clubbing days gone by, crackling hazy recollection of music from a fondly remembered Before Time. Rather than getting all misty-eared over UK garage and grime, however, Mr. Hamill has his muse set on retro-future sci-fi, as heard through the archaic crusty technologies of the 20th Century. For real, when I first heard The Bad People’s opening warbling distorted arps, I thought my headphone wire had a faulty connection!

Orange Melamine is a conflicting listen, one ear firmly in pulpy futurism, another in nostalgic fuzz, loosely held together with scratchy beats like so much sonic duct tape. Even the track titles flit between such sentiments - Adventures In Slime And Space, Multipass, Melting Velcro Shoes, Leader-1 (wait, the Go-Bots character?). Other times Mr. Hamill dabbles in simpler influences, like freak-out acid rave (Los Locos, Velvet Gentleman), pure electro funk (Gullfire), or Boards Of Canada trip-hop (Volvo Estate). It’s also all rather under-written compared to later works from Space Dimension Controller, but that’s unsurprising consider Jack’s age when making these. Definitely worth a playthrough though, if only for a different take on retro-future sounds.

Sound Of Ceres - Nostalgia For Infinity

Joyful Noise Recordings: 2016

It had to happen eventually, genre lines so blurred these days as to fool even studious record store clerks. Yet maybe shoegaze has come far along in its development that it’s abandoned all pretense of being part of the Rock Domain, more content hanging out with dorky ‘electronica’ folk. This may just be the new normal, stumbling upon ‘dream pop’ where I typically hunt for techno and jungle. Still sends a strange shiver over my shoulder though, music that once was out in the indie racks now sneaking into my unsuspecting ears.

Gads, what an incredibly narrow-minded take on music. What if there is something in shoegaze pop that could win me over? Hey, I don’t doubt there is, but it’s not high on my bucket list. Truthfully, I’d probably have never given Sound Of Ceres a chance if I had any prior knowledge of them, or even took a pre-listen in the shop, their tunes just not what I was after that sunny day in Seattle.

But nay, I went in blind, lured by the intriguing cover art and suggested promise of music with a cosmic bent. Such was the idea behind this particular band anyway, the genesis of Karen and Ryan Hover looking to expand their earlier dream pop work as Candy Claws into something grander. It certainly is that, Nostalgia For Infinity the sort of thickly layered shoegaze that’s instantly catchy to the ear, yet contains so many little details, there’s always something new to hear with each playback. Eh, that’s part of the Sound Of Ceres manifesto too? Ah yes, the concept of ‘five orbits’, as presented in the album’s liner notes, each sonic layer a descending orbit for the listener to traverse. I can’t tell if that’s artistically pretentious, or musically playful. All shoegaze is like this, isn’t it?

Still, it’s a concept I can buy into. At first impression, Sound Of Ceres does the dream pop thing as fine as I’ve ever heard (disclaimer: not a whole lot), with Karen’s wispy floating vocals almost subsumed by layers of reverb. I have to pay actual attention if I’m to decipher her lyrics, after which I start noticing finer details in the instrumentation (guitar tones, electro drum kits, field recordings, retro synths, plucky electronics). For the most part, it feels like I’m listening to a long lost slice of Boomer psychedelic pop, all the folksy Americana of Brian Wilson’s best work, but fed through an idealistic, introspective lens with modern production chops. Oh, and final track Dagger Only Run reminds me a lot of Gorillaz’ Empire Ants - very similar cascading synth arp between the two. Or is that just a dream pop staple regardless? I honestly don’t know.

Maybe one day I’ll learn all there is to know of this genre. For now though, Sound Of Ceres provided a pleasant diversion from my same ol’, same ol’. In fact, it came off too sunny for this particular month. Must return to next April.

Tiga - No Fantasy Required

Counter Records: 2016

For someone who seems primed for a glorious run wading through the pop charts, Tiga sure doesn’t like venturing there often. Every time he comes out with a new album with a couple instantly catchy club tunes radio stations wouldn’t have much problem playing, he retreats to the DJ circuit instead. Even after adopting a new live show in support of his third full-length No Fantasy Required, Mr. Sontag’s back to the relatively safe confines of rinsing out records on a regular basis. Not that I blame him for keeping to the scene that nurtured his rise from the early Montreal raves to globe-trotting stardom – the actual pop scene is a vicious, cruel mistress, more than capable of gnawing you to raw pulp before spitting you into a gutter. Tiga has no problem flirting with said mistress, but is wise enough to know any long-term engagement leads to more trouble than it’s worth.

Which in part explains the long wait between Ciao! and No Fantasy Required, seven years in the making. Mr. Sontag had definitely kept busy in the interim, releasing nine singles in that time. That’s almost enough for an LP right there, but only a few show up in this album, primarily the most popular of his quirky club anthems (Plush, Bugatti). Aww, no 100 with Boys Noize? Guess that one was too much of a one-off milestone to make sense in an album context. Also missing are a number of Audion collaborations (Fever, Let’s Go Dancing), but Matthew Dear lends his hand on a clutch of new tracks for No Fantasy Required anyway, so it’s a wash there.

I’m honestly surprised Dear’s serious approach to techno worked well enough with Tiga’s more playful style, 3 Rules’ goofy bounce as mischievous as anything Mr. Sontag’s done with Jori Hulkkonen. Less interesting is the Hudson Mohawke collaboration Planet E, the sort of moody acid cut with pitched-down vocals I honestly thought had gone by the wayside as of late. Really, the whole middle portion of No Fantasy Required drags with serious techno groovers, save a light, poppy deep house offering of Tell Me Your Secret where Tiga’s earnest singing shines wonderfully.

It’s these moments that serve No Fantasy Required best, highlighting Tiga’s ease with introspection even as nonsensical faux-posh ‘bugatti’ quips are what folks generally remember him for. The titular opener, Make Me Fall In Love, Don’t Break My Heart, and Blondes Have More Fun offer some of the deepest vibes ever heard on a Tiga LP, and stand in stark contrast to the motionless club tunes that eat up the album’s middle portion. Maybe it’s that Stuart Price factor.

Oh yeah, Price is here too, providing “Musical Assistance” to No Fantasy Required and Don’t Break My Heart. Talk about your ‘set pop stars retreating from the limelight all in together’ narratives! Like, I know The Thin White Duke kept busy with Pet Shop Boys, but you sure didn’t hear about it compared to those Madonna and Killers collaborations.

Martin Nonstatic - Nebulae Live At The Planetarium

Ultimae Records: 2016

Ultimae Records has put out a few live recordings in the past, but it’s not one of their main selling points. Even then, it’s mostly via the label’s second-tier acts, like Cell, Circular, and Scann-Tec. And even then-then, such releases are regulated to the digital-only realm, hard copies extremely rare. Their last live CD was H.U.V.A. Network’s Live At Glastonbury Festival 2005, released in 2010. Guess Ultimae was overdue for another regardless, but it feels odd they’d give Martin Nonstatic the honors, a relative new recruit to the French label’s ranks. Then again, it’s not like the print’s fielding a deep roster as of late, options for a ‘second-tier act live album’ exceedingly small. Heck, at this point, Martin’s practically part of the starting bench, one of the few artists with a full-length album out on Ultimae in the last few years.

Previous Ultimae live LPs featured recordings taken from festival performances, but Nebulae Live At The Planetarium comes from a more intimate setting. Aww, no crowd cheering ambience? Of course not, folks at the Zeiss Planetarium in Bochum, Germany likely far too tripped out on the dome projections, man. Unfortunate there isn’t an accompanying DVD video though, displaying the visual splendor of the event as the music within plays along. Then again, how can you replicate a planetarium projection at home? Clearly a typical TV or computer screen won’t cut it. Even a home projector doesn’t do justice, still reliant on flat surfaces like a wall or ceiling. And what about the lasers, man? Everyone knows a good electronic music show at a planetarium’s gonna’ have a far-out laser show. Eh, I’m not fussy, at least some YouTube clips of the event would suffice. No dice? *sigh*

Forget the visual aspect then. At least we’ll get to hear some nifty reinterpretations of Mr. Nonstatic’s tunes. Slight problem in selling that angle though, at least in my case: I honestly can’t recall much of his music. For sure I know I liked what I heard from his Ultimae debut Granite, and should I pop that album on again, I know I’ll enjoy his chilled-out, dub techno vibe just the same. As I mentioned in my review of that CD, however, very little of it sticks to my brain matter, and playing Nebulae back, I honestly didn’t notice any significant differences based on memory alone. I do have sparks of recollection in some songs – the low throb of Granite, the guitars of Distance B, the heavy dub of Out Of Silence - but aside from a more expansive mixdown benefiting a live planetarium show, I couldn’t tell you the difference between these and the album versions without side-by-side comparisons. Which I can’t say I’m interested in doing for this CD.

Really, I was hoping for more tunes from Martin’s back catalog, but ultimately Nebulae is just a remixed version of Granite. A fine downtempo, dub techno album for sure, but hardly necessary if you’re not interested in the sound.

protoU - Lost Here

Cryo Chamber: 2016

Yeah yeah, another Cryo Chamber album. I’ve said before such is the result of a label splurge, and when said label offers such lovely bulk deals on their music, label splurging is easy indeed. Heck, remember when I covered that pile of Psychonavigation Records material earlier in the year? Or even all those Fabric and In Trance We Trust mixes? And it’s not like I haven’t gathered massive amounts of material from other labels either: Hypnotic, Waveform, Turbo, Ultimae… um, Columbia. Of course, the difference there is that music was gathered over a course of two decades before taking on this blog in earnest, spreading their entries more fluidly as I trek through everything now. If Cryo Chamber had existed prior to 2012, we wouldn’t have such an overabundance of albums now. Then again, I wasn’t as open to a dark ambient label either. It still stuns me how my interest developed towards Simon Heath’s print.

On the other hand, ProtoU provides the sort of sound that might have eased me into the genre if I’d preferred a gradual transition from my general ambient interests. The lady behind the moniker, Sasha Cats, is relatively new onto the scene, almost completely barren of information at Lord Discogs. Last.fm does provide a bit more background, touching on her prior influences (violinist, choir, traditional classical) and some dabbling in contemporary genres (d’n’b, ambient, noisy experiments). T’was not long before she found kinship with dark ambient sorts though, soon enough making her debut on Cryo Chamber in the collaborative album Earth Songs. A short while later, Ms. Cats made her solo debut with this particular album, Lost Here, one of the few records on this label to have so much white in its cover art. Ooh, contrasts!

The titular opener features field recordings of flowing water and open spaces, all the while a rather calm and reflective pad tone drones in support. Hey, wait, didn’t the last ambient album I reviewed (The Longing Daylight) also open in a similar fashion? In what must be attributed to complete coincidence considering the disparate musical worlds between Mr. Norris and Ms. Cats, absolutely yes! Still, I’m always intrigued by common links within genres, so that was a cute coincidence to behold with my listening arrangement.

Similarities end there though, Lost Here much more vivid in the portrait it paints – it really does feel like I’m wandering about an empty area, alone with my thoughts. An abandoned city? The rubble of ancient ruins? A foggy seaside beach? Who’s to say, but there’s something strangely comforting about the tones ProtoU guides you along. They’re spacious, but never so empty you feel lost in desolation. Final tracks The Sea and Believe even offer hopeful tones, inching closer to the reflective nature of ambient-proper, though with a layer of gritty soot in this case. Lost Here isn’t reinventing any wheels, but should serve as an easy entry point for those looking to dip their toes into dark ambient’s opaque waters.

Randal Collier-Ford, Flowers For Bodysnatchers, Council Of Nine, God Body Disconnect - Locus Arcadia

Cryo Chamber: 2016

Scaling back from the super-mega-ultra concept of ‘ALL The Roster Work On Singular Label Project’, we have ‘A Few Guys On Label Work On Concept Album’. Not under a group pseudonym though, nor with any specific collaboration between each artist beyond working around the theme as laid out by Bruce Moallem (God Body Disconnect). Cryo Chamber's done something similar as this before, an album called Tomb Of Empires, and I can’t help but continuously marvel at how much creative freedom Simon Heath offers all these morbid musicians from across the globe. Still, despite each contributor providing a single (long) track to Locus Arcadia, this is more than a compilation. Applying the trusty ol’ ‘dark ambient as storytelling’ analogy, each piece is rather like a short story set within a specific setting, though whether we’re dealing with the same protagonist throughout, I’m not sure.

Locus Arcadia is the brain-child of Bruce Moallem, whose backstory I’ve detailed in the God Body Disconnect album Dredge Portals. Along for the ride is Council Of Nine, one Maximillion Olivier, whom I’ve also detailed to some degree with his two albums Dakhma and Diagnosis. Flowers For Bodysnatchers joins the haunted sci-fi party, though I didn’t get as heavy into Duncan Ritchie’s history while writing up his Aokigahara album (the forest history ate most of my word count). And finally there’s Randal Collier-Ford, who’s making his debut with this blog! Well, technically he did on the Cryo Chamber Collaboration of Azathoth, but who could tell where his portions of that jumbo project began and ended. Ah, maybe if I’d taken in some of his prior work, I’d figure out what his particular dark ambient attributes are. For now, all I’ve got to go with is the opening piece on Locus Arcadia.

Into The Maw Where All Men Die certainly is an auspicious title to kick off a dark sci-fi outing, and the music within is suitably apt. Menacing drone, mechanical breathing, claustrophobic mood, with a touch of wonderment at the end as you take in the grandeur of whatever deserted, orbiting super-structure you’re wandering about. Flowers For Bodysnatchers opts more for a pure ‘haunted house’ vibe with his piece, Black Echo Of Morgues And Memory: lots of distant clanking across empty halls, creepy sounds clawing at metal chambers nearby, all leading to an unleashed cacophonic fury of whatever horror lurks erupting on your senses. Mr. Ritichie’s use of natural instruments definitely plays a crucial role in his piece. Council Of Nine, meanwhile, brings things down to a steady ambient drone, Pale Sister Of Sanctuary Lost an almost calm and soothing respite from FfB’s intense outing. He still maintains the desolate space drone that permeates Locus Arcadia though, for God Body Disconnect must take us out in an incredibly cinematic piece. Using a Death Star-tonne of sci-fi sound effects, Prisoner’s Sacrifice Facing Arcadia could be a mini-movie in its own right, complete with soaring score and gentle piano denouement at the end. How Spielbergian of Maollem.

Cities Last Broadcast - The Humming Tapes

Cryo Chamber: 2016

And finally I get to that oldest of dark ambient schools, the post-industrial class. Actually, calling it ‘post’ isn’t entirely accurate, this stuff developing almost concurrently with the warped sound experiments of early industrial. Once dark ambient started finding different ways of exploring the macabre side of drone though, its shared approach to the craft with traditional ambient dragged it out of the industrial scene into its own thing. Now you’ve got so many different styles of dark ambient, you’d almost need a Music Guide detailing it all; or not, this particular scene not as anal retentive about sub-genre purity as so many other electronic music scenes. For sure one could, if anything to help unsuspecting explorers differentiate from ‘space soul-crush’ from ‘urban decay doomcore’ from ‘Hell Dimension sadstep’ from ‘rainbow-sparkle drone’ (it’s an ironic micro-genre). But it’s not necessary, dark ambient connoisseurs content within their own interests, though perhaps with a shared smirk towards those who fear treading within.

Cities Last Broadcast, or Pär Boström to the Swedish Illuminati Division, has floated about the dark ambient scene for a while now. He’s probably better off known as Kammarheit, a project trending towards the reflective, melancholy side of dark ambient, and didn’t offer much exploration of unique recording methods. As an alias like Cities Last Broadcast though, you’re practically mandated to indulge industrial’s aesthetic of metropolitan decay. Crackling tape recordings, rusted grind of neglected machinery, billowing wind through burnt husks of buildings, warped records of a fallen culture - all that good stuff. For sure I’ve dealt with the post-apocalypse setting before, but most of those feature times significantly past the fall of Man, and often still using contemporary studio gear for recording. The Humming Tapes places us about as close to the initial action I’ve come across yet, feeling more like a Final Days Of A Victorian War than dealing with the after affects.

Well, the setting makes sense, given the crackling, droning analog tone that permeates this album. The actual content, however, focuses on the practice of séance, where a group of people sit together to communicate with spirits, a rather popular activity during the Victorian Era. Even Houdini getting in on that action, and grainy photographs of the sessions helped perpetuate the myth, but most séance mediums were considered frauds or hoaxes. Whether real or fake, The Humming Tapes presents itself as a recording from one such intense session, and I can’t help but wonder if ol’ Pär partook in a séance just for some authentic field recordings. Well no wonder that Glossolalia track sets my neck hairs on end!

Whether you believe in commune with the afterlife or not, The Humming Tapes definitely sells you on the atmosphere of a séance. It’s got the anxious waiting in the dark (The Sitting), the creepy contact (Glossolalia), a strangely forlorn discourse with the dead (Centennial), and that soul-emptying sense that you got more than you bargained for in toying with spirits (Electricity, Kathédra). A charming Halloween album, then.

Aes Dana Featuring MikTek - Far & Off

Ultimae Records: 2016

It’s been a while since the Ultimae ranks were active in any significant way. Between 2014-15, there were but three albums and three compilations. Wedged among them though, were also about a half-dozen EPs, three of which being Aes Dana collaborations with MikTek. If you don’t recall, he’s that new-hotness Greek producer that signed with Ultimae, released an album, and has appeared on nearly every compilation from them since. With such a roll-out for Mr. Aikaterinis, you’d think another album was promptly in the works following Elsewhere, but it’s been over three years since. And Far & Off isn’t a new MikTek album either; rather we’re dealing with a compilation of those three singles, from which Aes Dana gets the main credit, and MikTek has a featuring credit. What, couldn’t they have come up with a collaborative alias, like H.U.V.A. Network with Solar Fields? Say, whatever happened to that project anyhow? And Solar Fields in general, for that matter? It’s been so long since we’ve heard from Magnus, so very, very long…

So, those three records – literally, Aes Dana’s work with MikTek also Ultimae’s first foray into vinyl production - titled Cut., Alkaline, and The Unexpected Hours. These were released one per year, the final one coming out just this year with Far & Off shortly after. Talk about your long game, though given the glacial rate these were made, I wonder if Mr. Villuis had his mind focused on other business (those remasters!). Or maybe tales of backlogged vinyl pressing plants are as dire as I’ve heard. Hey, man, I know having such wonderfully mastered music available on the Black Crack format is super sexy and all, but it’s not that important. Besides, FLAC and DVD remains the superior audio source. Not that I should talk, mind you, remaining perfectly content with CDs ‘til the day I die.

Alright, enough dodging, pivoting, and tangenting. Let’s get to the music on Far & Off. Short review: there’s barely any music on Far & Off. Aes Dana and MikTek have crafted such minimalist dub techno and ambient drone here, I honestly feel like I’m listening to rice crackers. They’re absolutely delicious rice crackers, heady sub-bass tones, whispy piano chords, and even a little dalliance into glitchy-click microfunk rhythms, but still leaving me feeling rather empty after consuming them. Which Vincent claims is the intent, so aces on the execution, I guess.

I get the sense Aes Dana specifically made these tracks with the highest-end playback available, as I easily get lost in the vast, spacious sound design these tracks provide when playing them on my Senns. On anything else however, there’s barely anything there. Even cranking my main stereo (which, given thin-walled apartment living, is only adequate) didn’t provide much sonic depth, to say nothing of my laughable computer speakers. Hearing a few of these at a time, as proper singles, is probably enough; not for a full LP’s worth of run time when so little sticks to the mind after.