Voyage - Genesis

Tech Itch Recordings: 2016

This is now the third album I have with Genesis as its title. Not the most ludicrous thing to occur, I admit; an amusing tidbit of info, nothing more. No, what makes this remarkable is the fact one of the other Genesis albums I have – care of dark ambient project Paleowolf – was released within the same month as this Genesis (December 2016). Does... does this happen often, in the world of music? I can't imagine so, even with generic titles like this one, but with so much being released all the time, the odds may be higher than anyone could imagine without studious cataloguing to confirm such statistical variances. Are there any chroniclers of Lord Discogs' tomes willing to find out? Like, what else you gonna' do during quarantine?

Forgive me for an opening paragraph that has nothing to do with the music on hand. Gotta' burn through self-imposed word count somehow when the artist leaves very little in the way of biographical info to wax the bull on. This is the fifteenth artist to take on Voyage as an alias (so sayeth Lord Discogs), with no details of who the man behind the moniker is, not even a name. Cool picture though.

Maybe it's a jolly ol' throwback to the days when d'n'b artists were all about that anonymous cred', hiding behind mysterious pseudonyms so only their music stands tall and proud. I mean, if you're gonna' make darkstep jungle that sounds as fresh as it did in the late '90s, may as well go whole hog with it. And no, that isn't a diss or a criticism. I went into Tech Itch Recordings expecting to hear tuneage in line with Technical Itch's classic menacing style, and by jove does Voyage ever deliver on that front.

Like, right off the bat. Some creepy, spacey sounds and simple tech-step rhythms warm you up in Extraterestrial, soon unleashing vicious Amen break business. Holy cow, this is just track one, and this dude's already cranked the intensity to such a threshold, it's bordering on breakcore. Follow-up track Control Blade doesn't let up, with many more coming after. Not all at once though, oh no. Voyage still finds room for some stripped-down tech-step roughness (Coma, Synchronic, Backpropagation, Immune System) and even a little stab at microfunk with GEO600 and Modified? I mean, if you want to call it that – it certainly sounds like 'minimal tech-step', so why not? Oh, and there's a hilarious attempt at injecting what I can only describe as squawking funk guitar in Dangerous Idea. Title's definitely apt there, but hey, points for trying, and the Amen bedlam elsewhere in the track is mint anyway.

But yeah, more vintage darkstep follows, and tickle me pink with how much I enjoyed Genesis. As with so many classic d'n'b genres, there's little sense in messing with what worked in the past. If Voyage is representative of the up-and-comers being featured on Tech Itch Recordings, then darkstep's future looks solid indeed.

Lars Leonhard - Erstwhile

self-release: 2016

I didn't think I'd get the chance to stress test my Leonhard Science so soon. Okay, I did – it's not like my listening/reviewing order just springs up out of nothing. For sure there would be more Lars music coming (because of the big-huge amount I got sent), but somehow I mentally blocked Erstwhile in the queue. It's like, being so razor-focused (and excited!) to cover stuff like coldwave, ancient Fax+, and Viking metal made me forget what would follow. To say nothing of what's in store after this. Plus, having done the double-dip of Dark Tales From The Woods and Deep Venture, you'd forgive me for not being quite so enthused about another Lars record so soon. I may have proved there were differences between his albums if you played them back-to-back, but I needn't a third to prove it further, do I?

Even then, I had something thematically tangible to work with. Dark Tales was quite explicit in its theme compared to Deep Venture, whereas the latter was general enough you could imagine it soundtracking either underwater exploration or solar ultra-vids. Erstwhile, however, seems to be about music existing for its own sake. Perhaps a general mood of tranquility and reflection, but nothing so definitive as many of Lars' other works. In fact, this may have been the first time Mr. Leonhard ever went so abstract, so that's at least one talking point in Erstwhile's favour. Just not one that lets me wax the bull for a given amount of self-imposed word count, especially in a music scene filled with deliberate wallpaper songcraft.

Not to turn this 'review' into another reflection on the so-called struggles of writing about music, but there isn't much here to go into depth with. I've reviewed eight of his albums up to now, so folks should be well-versed in his downtempo dub techno style, and Erstwhile doesn't do much to shake his formula up. The opening portions of the album stick to the slower tempos, with a couple steady-beat offerings towards the end (Pillow is basically prog at its BPM). A requisite piano indulgence with chirpy birds and other quaint field recordings leads us out in Freedom, properly selling you on the whole 'tranquil music for tranquil times' theme, even if the bulk of Erstwhile still features Lars' more techno take on downtempo dub.

And yes, when stacked against the other two Lars albums I've reviewed this month (!!), this one does stand out as distinct from them. It may not be so thematically concrete as Dark Tales and Deep Venture, but an album of music simply being present for reflective times remains one to hang onto. Like, how many lonesome piano pieces of been created for that very reason? Still, I won't deny being far more enthralled by Lars' muse when he's taking on specific ideas. Like night trains, or the sun, or deep forests, or stars, or... um, space, and, uh, cosmic dust... Dude's got quite a fixation on space, 'kay?

Phantogram - Three

Republic Records: 2016

(a Discography Patreon Request from Omskbird)

Every time I say Phantogram out loud, I can't help but say it in a similar manner to how the word 'speakerboxxx' is oft repeated in the OutKast album Speakerboxxx. Like, “Phan-Toe-Gram”. Did the Big Boi influence somehow worm its way into my brain in ways I can't possibly comprehend? That non sequitor out the way...

Like Thanos, the Pop Music Machine is inevitable. Whatever unique traits or style you had will be scrubbed clean by various studio hands for maximum market penetration. Your individual talent will be made to fit predetermined moulds that have proven success rates with as wide a demographic as your handlers feel is possible. This is not some insidious secret only revealed when an unwitting participant has signed their names away. They go into the Machine willingly, hoping to take their brand to commercial heights of success only dreamed of before. It will naturally annoy and even piss-off some hardcore followers that helped nurture an act's rise to prominence from the beginning, but as I said, the process is inevitable.

Not that it isn't possible to make the Machine work for you, but it takes an incredible talent, plus force of personality and will to shine in an industry that disposes of its resources if they don't turn out the expectant results. Even those that do have their time in the limelight are quickly left to the dustbin if a newer, fresher hotness can easily replace them. For real, when was the last time folks cared about a Madonna release?

This isn't a mould I hear Phantogram fitting with Three. For sure they give it their best effort (Sarah Barthel is at times bellowing her soul out, understandable given many of the songs were inspired by the suicidal death of a friend), bringing in professional studio producers and crafting songs with big-huge, wall-of-sound chorus/drops, as was the style at the time (is it still? Please say we've moved on from that). These don't sound like only Phantogram could have made them though. You're Mine could have been done by any number of contemporary starlets as the feature. I sure wouldn't know the difference if I heard it on the work radio. For all the influences of musicians new and old I heard in Phantogram's earlier works, at least I could tell it was Sarah and Josh performing them.

This isn't me condemning the duo though, oh no. If slick anthem pop in the vein of Imagine Dragons is what they wanted to make, then they did it very well, and I'm sure it pleased many fans of this kind of music. It just wasn't made for me, and I have no interest in returning to it anytime soon. Well, maybe Funeral Pyre. That one kinda' felt like the genre-fusion synth-pop act I heard on their earlier works.

I took a listen to one of their recent singles, to hear if they've stayed the course from Three. Yep, that's some big-huge production from Into Happiness.

Convextion - 2845

a.r.t.less: 2016

No way I was gonna' skip out on this. Cover art like that must be respected, nurtured, supported, encouraged, and... Well, not replicated, but I'd love to see more airbrushed, pulp sci-fi on techno releases. Why should space-synth have all the glory? I mean, just look at details on that interstellar cruiser. The little lights, splayed all about in no discernible pattern or form, but you know there's a reason that one is red and that row is blue and that grouping is yellow. I could fanwank theory forever on what's going on with this cover art, especially all over a full-sized, spiffy vinyl edition. Unfortunately, I don't collect vinyl, and as it seems there's almost no chance of a CD version of this record (it's been three years since its release now), I had to settle for digital instead. Yeah, this was among my earliest 'floodgates' purchases, why do you ask?

And who is the space maverick taking techno back to its cosmic roots, rescuing it from the clutches of the evil MNML Galactic Empire? Why, none other than Gerard Hanson, not really a very important person in the world of techno. That was mostly intentional though, the Texan preferring the anonymity of a scene that had its eyes and ears fixated on Detroit and Germany. He released a few records as Convextion in the mid-'90s, with sporadic singles emerging in the following years, but seemed to have moth-balled the project after a self-titled retrospective album. He was more focused on his electro alias E.R.P. at that point anyway, and with techno so enamoured with sterile German minimalism, his retro-future style didn't have much place.

Then, out of the blue, this! I guess the time was finally right for techno in this style to regain its shine. Like, if B12 could make a comeback, why not Convextion? I wouldn't go so far as to say Mr. Hanson's been on a tear since releasing 2845, but he's certainly had one of the highest profiles in recent years within this particular niche of the scene. Probably a lot of anticipation for what sort of lovely cover art his next album will have!

Of course, all this hype wouldn't exist if there wasn't damn good music to go along with it. Even though the sixteen-minute opener has more in common with the dubbier explorations of a print like Silent Season, New Horizon has enough sci-fi bleeps and zaps penetrating the murky echo-space to fixate it solidly in cosmic domains. Or Atlantian, in a pinch (yeah, there's a Drexciyan vibe to this particular track).

The remaining six tracks are all about as solid offerings of vintage Detroit techno as you could hope for in this day and age. I really can't detail it any more than that, as the genre just has that particular sound that tickles the frontal cortex just right, especially if you vibe on the proper spaced-out variants of the sound. Only preaching to the choir at this point, my friends.

SadGirl - Vol. 3 - Head To The Mountains

self release: 2016

You gotta' hand it to Bandcamp newsletters: they are committed to deep dives within the website's archives, unearthing potential up-and-comers so you don't have to. I can't imagine the soul-sucking experience it must be, sifting through so many amateur musicians, some of which have clearly just cracked open their first freeware producing studio and uploaded their first sessions onto the website in the hopes of a few takes. Not that Bandcamp is anywhere near as bad as Soundcloud in this regard – I'd like to think Bandcamp is where artists release the material they at least believe has some potential of actual money being earned from it – but how many mediocre items must the newsletter writers go through before stumbling upon something worth consideration of a spotlight? Why, it's just like the street 'zines of old!

For sure I'd never have had SadGirl brought to my attention without one such Bandcamp newsletter. Indie rock with influences of archaic surf rock is so far outside my usual wheelhouse, I wouldn't have any clue where to start looking for a fix, much less the commitment to do the necessary digging. If a Bandcamp newsletter promoting surf rockers on their website claims this is a band worth checking out though, then by g'ar I'll check 'em out. Or a tidy little EP on the cheap at least.

And had I first heard the opening song Going Down without that recommendation, I probably would have skipped on by. There's nothing wrong with it, of course, indie rock that's enamoured with the scraggly aesthetics of '60s garage rock and all the punky attributes that'd be adopted in later decades. There's even some nifty echo and reverb on those guitar tones, though nothing that gives me those 'surf' feels, y'know? What's always drawn me to this genre is the open vista it creates with its sonics, and Going Down feels like its still sprung from the tiny rock halls SadGirl cut their mustard in. But hey, they're at least Californian, so some ties to the surf and all.

Nothing sells the punk vibe more than a one-minute ten follow-up in Drowning though, and Someone Else's Skin is a right noisy little number too. I like it fine, I guess, and there's some cool, wavy, echoing solo action, but still not really what I was expecting out of a surf rock newsletter recommendation. Fortunately, we have The Hand That Did The Deed, one of those jangly instrumental ditties that's as much spaghetti Western rock as it is surf rock – the two were synonymous back in the day anyway. Up to this day too, come to think of it. Desperado rock. That's the name it should be called. Someone should make a guide to classic rock to make the name authoritative.

So this EP wasn't what I expected or hoped for, not really convincing me SadGirl was actually a contemporary surf rock band. And yet, I still went and ordered their debut album, Water. Go figure.

Le Moors - Tendrils

Unknown Tone Records: 2016

Finally, an obscure ambient act I'm coming across for the first time where I'm not drawing an utter blank. Not to say I'm an expert on Le Moors. Really, hardly anyone could be, the duo having released just this one album, plus a single-track EP a few years prior. One of the players involved though, I've crossed paths with him before, if only barely. One Wil Bolton contributed to the Lee Norris conglomerate project The Angling Loser, and has thus also worked specifically with Lee as Orphic Signals and The Ashes Of Piemonte. He's also released a solo album on ...txt. Dronarivm too, not to mention most recently on Databloem, because everyone is releasing music on Databloem these days. Seriously, what is it with that label as of late?

Really, Bolton's been quite the busy-body over the past decade, with nearly twenty albums to his name, and several more collaborative works along the way. Less so is the other half of Le Moors, Jeff Stonehouse, though not by a great deal. His primary project was Listening Mirror with Kate Tustain – even releasing an album on Dronarivm during its time – but seems to have settled into more of a producer-collaborative role now, making use of sound manipulations and the like. Oh, and Lord Discogs ties him to '90s psy-trance act Spiralhead, but I've a hard time believing that's the same dude. You're telling me Jeff made a few goa records way back, disappeared for over a decade, then re-emerged making ambient-drone? Ah, well, I suppose there's been odder musical tracks. Tijs Verwest started out with gabber, after all.

The concept behind Tendrils is straight-forward enough: calming, soothing ambient layers with reverb tones stretched out to the infinite recesses of your listening space. Ooh, what I wouldn't give to hear some of this in a big open field, but my Sennheiser HD650s suffice in a pinch. Most of these sounds are initiated by guitars strings lazily plucking an improvised ditty, with the aforementioned sound manipulations contorting them into something quite relaxing and tranquil. If I may get my old-school name-drops on, it most reminds me of Vangelis' sublime composition of pre-ambient dronescaping, Creation Du Monde. I can imagine a piece like Precarious Brilliance or The Play Of Angels working just as well with imagery of cosmic splendour with Carl Sagan narrating overtop.

And that's about all there is to say about Tendrils. It's only seven tracks long, most averaging around the six-to-seven minute mark, which is a tad on the short side where this sort of music is concerned. Then again, at least they don't unnecessarily dawdle on their effects either. There isn't much variety in sounds though, maybe Cutlasses And Carbines going more sparse and minimal with its elongated guitar tones compared to the rest of the album. Then there's the final titular track, with its nine minutes of isolated piano and atonal drone. A surprisingly ominous closing, given how benign the rest of Tendrils was.

Dead Coast - Shambolic

Annibale Records: 2016

It honestly could have remained a singular compilation indulgence. A specific genre itch that was tied to a specific period of time, and needn't be explored any further. Maybe I'd have gotten myself a Dick Dale collection as well, but surf rock wasn't something in need of diving fully and completely into. Much less wade through the vast, murky shores of indie rock seeking any contemporary bands carrying the music's legacy into the modern era, because there always are a few who find inspiration in super-niche styles of a bygone time. It's just what indie rock do, mang!

Fortunately, and remarkably coincidentally, I stumbled upon a Bandcamp newsletter highlighting all the contemporary bands carrying the music's legacy into the modern era. Like, almost instantly after I'd picked up that Surf Beat compilation. The only explanation for this astounding timing is the sweet Sirens of surf rock heard my longing wail across the Pacific shores, sending me a serenading screed whence I needed it most. Yeah, that tracks.

Thus here I am (rocking you like a hurricane?), reviewing the debut album from Dead Coast, a band out of London that clearly has its ears turned to the early '60s of the California coast. And not only am I reviewing their debut album, but I'm going with the digital copy, because all the hard copy versions were already sold out, but I wasn't gonna' deny myself some fresh musical exploration based on outdated conditionals.

And no, this isn't an all-in surf outing, just as much a 'Merseybeat' and psychedelic rock showing too (Lord Discogs also lists Garage Rock, Blues Rock, Stoner Rock, and Space Rock among the genres Shambolic entails, but what does Discogs know?). The most surfy of the songs on here are probably Ask The Dust, Hills Made Of Sand, Good In Her Blues, and Because I Know You. Mmm, such lush, dreamy reverb, bringing to mind lazy hazy days swaying by sunny shores under palm trees, salty waves lapping at your feet and all that good summer stuff. Plus, can't knock that authentic lo-fi recording quality, as though ripped from the sixty year old, 7” records.

That's only four songs out of a tracklist of thirteen. If the surf-inspired tunes don't cut it for you, you can always vibe on the garage-beat outings like Jenny Loves The Sun, Why Are We Still Together, and Just Don't Give Yourself (ooh, getting a White Stripes feeling off that one). Then there are the weirdo tunes, like ESP that's got that blues thing going, but features a Theremin (or approximate) solo. Or Overcome, an instrumental psychedelic freak-out that pauses at points for some slow jam time in a Tiki lounge (oh hi, Khruangbin, fancy seeing you here); Bossa For Stanley would fit in that lounge too.

So overall, a good first outing in this strange yet familiar musical realm I'm treading out into. I mean, it ought to have been, what with this album coming recommended by Bandcamp and all.

Specta Ciera + The Circular Ruins - Mnemosyne

dataObscura: 2016

Welp, the happy-funtime house music was a nice detour, but we must return to the regularly scheduled ambient dronescapes I clearly over-indulged in last year. Like, I thought I spread things out a bit from the Databloems and the dataObscuras, what with a Motech dive and sporadic other items along the way (Stacey Pullen! Pet Shop Boys! Sixtoo?). Not enough, turns out, with many more of these sorts of albums to come before I reach the end of the current backlog. Ah well, at least there isn't a huge pile of Cryo Chamber in here too, as in backlogs of before. Nay, that's for the next round of backlog reviews! Mwa ha-ha-ha!

At least this time, I'm not going in so blind. I've already touched upon The Circular Ruins; aka: Nunc Stans; aka: Anthony Kerby; aka: the dude that runs this dataObscura house. Specta Ciera is new though ...or is he? Apparently I have covered him as well, though under his real name of Devin Underwood. If that doesn't quite ring a bell, might I 'send' you to 'the past' Carpe Sonum Records in my archives? Eh? Eh...? Wow, tough crowd. I'm really dealing with the data-obscure with these artists, aren't I?

Anyhow, Specta Ciera has generally been Mr. Underwood's primary alias, and after releasing around half-dozen albums on his own, started feeling the collaborative itch with guys like Benjamin Dauer and The Circular Ruins. Seems an Arbee has become Devin's latest music beau, including releases on dataObscura and Carpe Sonum Records together. Damn, if they manage something out on one of Lee Norris' labels, they'll be, like, a pleasant ambient drone power couple! This scene could use more juicy gossip like that (and none of the 'label manager meltdowns' ...okay, maybe a little of that too, for the LOLs).

Mnemosyne opens with Preparations For Sleep. Ah, dang'it. Whenever I sit back to take in an album such as this, I often have great difficulty staying awake for the duration. That's not a bad thing, really, calm music easing you into a state of mental soothing doing its job at all. Letting me know that I likely won't have much of a chance against Mnemosyne though, that's just trolling me now.

All joking aside, the Specta Ruins (Circular Ciera?) pairing does make for an interesting contrast. Granted, I haven't listened to a tonne from these two, but enough to get a general idea of their styles, Kerby often exploring the minimalist spaces among field recordings and subtle drones, Underwood a little more musical in his layering of synth tones and pad timbre. There are some downright dreamy passages throughout Mnemosyne, where one can lose themselves in the distant melodies emanating from underneath burbling electronics and fuzzy drone. It takes a bit to really grab you, mind, but by album's end, I'm feelin' as chilled out as- oh geez! Why does final track Quandary have such a comparatively ominous tone to it? Harsh my mellow, man.

Anatolya - Mirror Messages

Unknown Tone Records: 2016

Oh, why couldn't have this been my first Unknown Tone Records album to review? Then I could have killed off the obligatory word salad of background info here instead of Twincities' CD. At least there, I had some additional artist information to dig deeper on if I so chose. This Anatolya though, he's a giant ol' Discoggian blank, Mirror Messages his lone entry, save a single track contributed to the Unknown Tone compilation Vol. IV. At least the liner notes tells me the artist behind Anatolya is Brian Phillips, and hails from the Florida region. Not much else beyond that though. The Bandcamp page does send me to a link of his other artistic endeavours, including paintings, video, and sculpturing. It all looks bleak and macabre and very dark ambient, which makes me wonder how he wound up on Unknown Tone in the first place? Are there other morose music makers on the label I'm not aware of? That album titled Stay Out Long Enough And The Night Becomes Your Home from Lost Trail seems rather dark and gothic.

Anatolya though, I've almost nothing to work with, beyond the music itself. And I'll be honest, when I heard the opening harsh drone of Before You Were Born, I thought I was in for one of those experiences. Where the playing of a full LP is more an endurance test of sensory overload than letting oneself be lost in the vibe the artist has crafted. It's certainly effective in setting a discordant tone, the sort of sound you'd expect from the opening credits of a mind-breaking art-house film. Did I really want to hear such a thing on this nice summer day though? Heck, even in the bleakest of winter?

Fortunately, things turn to the moodier side of dark drone after, with creepy sounds and disembodied voices floating about a murky timbre. And gosh, The Nomad Flute actually feels a tad welcoming, in a warbly melancholy sort of way. Elsewhere, John Fire Lame Deer shows Mr. Phillips has a lighter side to his muse, even if its chipper piano melody remains buried in sludgy synth. Punctum finds him getting his experimental side on (such stretched oscillations), while In The Window and Lotophagi do the crackly minimalist ambient thing that jives with much of what I've heard from Unknown Tone's catalogue – there had to be a connection somewhere! It was almost enough to lull me into a sense of calm that I almost forgot just how confrontational the opening track was, but closer Eukurai reminds me that Mirror Messages had its fingers in the dark ambient side of things for most of its runtime.

So an interesting little album from Anatolya... Anatolya... Why does that name seem so familiar? Let me check something. *click-clack clickity-clack-clack ...BASS!* Oh, Anatolia, as in the Anatolia Peninsula. Y'know, watching a bunch of King & Generals videos will get certain locations stuck in your head something fierce. Lot of history in that region, believe you me.

The Field - The Follower

Kompakt: 2016

There's things worth talking about in The Field's fifth album The Follower. Things like “Axel Willner moves on from shoegaze, does proper techno” and “haha, I'm still dodging his Very Important Album, aren't I?”. I did something this past weekend, however, that's made talking about anything else extremely difficult. It wasn't even my fault! I had no idea it would or could happen. Nor is The Field at fault either – just unfortunate timing in this particular item cropping up in my queue when it did. I suspect if I don't write something about this event, however, it will fester even longer, somehow blocking my ability to connect fingers to keyboard. So I must do what I must do to move forward. I urge you all to skip the next paragraph, and rejoin me in the following one for my real review of The Field's The Follower.

So I went to a tech-house night on the weekend, as the dude who promoted the party said good things about the Berlin DJ he was bringing in. He always says good things about the Berlin DJs he brings in, but I was bored so went anyway. There I stood at my usual hunch just to the side of the front of the crowd, people watching while bobbing my head as I drank my pale ale in a can. Some decent deep-tech kept the vibe going, though nothing out of the ordinary, much less nabbing my attention in one of those “WHAT IS THIS!?” moments. Then, I heard it. A tinny, spacey rhythm, slightly off time, like out of the Golden Era of space disco. No, wait, it is from the Golden Era of space disco! Is it..? Yes, there it is, the cosmic 'aahhs', the triumphant organ refrain, and the hilariously warbly, ripped from pulp sci-fi pitched-down vocoder announcing the arrival of The Ultimate Warlord! Oh my God, I never thought I'd hear this tune out live, much less at a tech-house night. Do any of these people in the crowd know this track? They sure do now! Dammit though, that perfect context burned the song into my brain as it never had before. How can poor Axel Willner compete with such perfect Canadian disco cheese?

*whew* Okay, got that out of my system. The Follower, then.

The titular opener features some cool acid work from The Field before easing us into his usual brand of ultra-loopy tranced-out flow, where most of the album follows suite. Soft Streams and Raise The Dead get deeper in the dub techno zone, with the former a more abrasive than the latter. We all gotta' mellow out at the end though, which The Field does for the fourteen-minute closer Reflecting Lights. Another solid outing from Mr. Willner, then, and a definite have for those who prefer The Field's more techno outings. Unfortunately though, there's not much else to say about it, especially when one has The Ultimate Warlord imposing his Sword Of Light upon ye'.

Nunc Stans - Elementa

dataObscura: 2016

Lord Discogs lists dataObscura a spin-off from Databloem, and it appears the chap who got the spin started was Anthony Paul Kerby. I'm reviewing his Nunc Stans project in particular here, but he's released material as The Circular Ruins and Lammergeyer as well, with dataObscura his main label of output. He still pops in with occasional releases with daddy Databloem, plus the odd item elsewhere (Construct, Musical Philosophy, ping things), but by and large, this is his home. And hoo, has he kept it stuffed, Nunc Stans alone providing the dataObscura discography with sixteen releases. Meanwhile, The Circular Ruins is featured with fourteen releases on this print, and Lammergeyer adding eight more releases to the label's catalogue. And let's not forget Anthony's collaboration with Robert Davies as The Winterhouse, providing an additional eight albums more (speaking of Robert Davies, hoo boy, is that ever a discography as well).

If you've been keeping count, this all adds up to a shit-tonne of music from Anthony Kerby over the past two decades. How can I do any of this man's work justice by diving nearly blind into this one particular album I only got because the cover art intrigued me? Probably can't, but as I have picked up a few more of his releases in a recent Databloem/dataObscura splurge, I should gain at least some insight into where his muse wanders in no time.

For now, I have the cold opening of Elementa, a generally minimalist, modern classical drone outing. Not so frigid as the mountain peak would lead you to believe, though imparting a sense of desolate grandeur just the same, as strings and synths carry on in layers of timbre that are at once dense, yet distinct. It doesn't leave much room for melody, making such harmonic moments all the more poignant between the atonal movements (to say nothing of the sparse percussion occasionally piercing the thick musical atmosphere).

Does Elementa ever take its time in getting to where it's going, though. By the album's end, it almost sounds as though a veil has been lifted, a misty fog once obscuring the scenery revealing just how much splendour surrounds you, though you must suffer through some early impenetrable murk to arrive there. It's certainly a 'rewards repeated listens' type of album, but when it takes three tracks to feel like you're making any musical progress, it can be challenging sticking through the duration without the mind wandering.

And that got me thinking about other drone ambient albums I've listened to, and what makes some stand out more than others. As with so much music presented in an LP format, those opening moments are critical in hooking you in, something catching your attention just enough that it lingers in your memory, hinting at similar ideas or themes await. It's a subtle thing, but I think necessary for albums like this to leave a lasting impression. Instead, Elementa has some intriguing moments, but doesn't retain much after.

Various - Drum & Bass Arena: 20 Years Of D&B 1996-2016

Drum&BassArena: 2016

Wow, twenty years. What's crazy is I still vividly recall listening to the Arena's early online streams off the computer of that one friend who always had the best internet connections. Okay, 'vividly' is stretching things. I don't remember specifics, but I do recall how cool it was to hear live broadcasts of d'n'b shows half a world away. You'd almost think our modern age of neigh unlimited HD audio insta-streams in 4K clarity would render a website like DrumAndBassArena moot now, but there's something to be said for having an established brand in the overstuffed promotions market. Barring a total and complete collapse of the internet as we currently know it, I see no reason why the DnB-A won't be around to celebrate a thirtieth anniversary. Well, at least a twenty-fifth.

Naturally, a two-decade birthday party can't be complete without a pile of music to celebrate with, and we get three CDs worth to gorge ourselves on. Seems like a straight-forward exercise, rounding up a pile of d'n'b bangers for an extended party, but I was curious how it'd compare with the 10 Years rinse-out. With Adam F and Grooverider handling the decks there, that outing accomplished a remarkable feat in highlighting all the upfront developments the jungle scene was going through (so much Pendulum influence ...just so much), while honouring all that had made 'ardcore such a dynamic sound in its younger days. A tough act to follow, is what I'm saying, and by the looks of things, the Arena didn't even try bringing in any A-list jocks for their 20 Years rinse-out. No credits for the DJ mixes, at least.

CD1 is billed as Music For The Masses, and with an opening one-two punch of Pendulum's Tarantula and Sub Focus' Rock It, it sure is that. Good news is it isn't all Pendulum-styled d'n'b all the way through (they show up again with Vault, because of course), and things even go darkstep mid-set (Spor! Hive! Phace! Other single-syllable names!). Things turn back to the cheesy sing-along anthems by the end, but eh, it is music for the masses. This set is honest. Meanwhile, CD2 provides the old-school tunes, or Recollections, and while most of the veteran names show up (Dillinja, Ed Rush, Optical, Total Science, Adam F, etc.), it's still not as good as Grooverider's 'classics' set. How could it be?

CD3 is a welcome surprise though. Billed as Deeper Cuts, it unearths a bevy of overlooked, well, deeper cuts. Microfunk, soul-step, atmospheric jungle, and all that good stuff, with Calibre, Marcus Intalex, dBridge, and Netsky among the names I recognize in the tracklist. Not many others though. Ivy Lab? Bachelors Of Science? Technimatic? Sabre, Stray & Halogenix featuring Frank Carter III? Who are all these guys? In any event, if 20 Years is your typical night of d'n'b personified, Deeper Cuts is that classy afterhours session, where the vibe remains brisk but mellow and chill. Good stuff for old-timers like me, by g'ar.

Timestalker - Arrival Of The Stalkers

Werkstatt Recordings: 2016

Okay, I'm almost certain this is the last Werkstatt Recordings item I have left to review. I've gone through my backlog, and am positive nothing's among the 'B' albums. I don't want to say this will definitively close the door on my coverage of Toxic Razor's print, because there's some chance another release from there will catch my eye (always the eye before the ear with Werkstatt). No more thematic bulk buys though, nosiree, bobski. Finally, I can say I'm closing the book on this odd chapter of my blog's history, wherein the promise of more synthwave than I could shake a Yamaha DX7 at was there for the taking (also: sweet stickers).

Arrival Of The Stalkers is as fitting a cap on my Werkstatt saga as any, a release that seems to encapsulate what I initially found so darn cool about the label, but eventually worn down by too. It's got the striking cover art, in this case a Judge Dredd future-shock depiction, though set in bright neo-Tokyo rather than the grimdark slums of the original comic – always what is thought represented that decade, not what was. However, Timestalker is mostly a Discoggian blank, though at least has a follow-up album listed and a Bandcamp link leading to a couple more releases. It looks as though he's developed a tidy if small career for himself, which is more than can be said for nearly half the Werkstatt alum I've thus far covered. And if the Bandcampian algorithm is suggesting GosT in association with your music, you must be doing something right.

The titular opener also perfectly hits all those tasty attributes my enjoyment of synthwave craves. The 'ripped from a Cannon Film Group newscast' sample, the crunchy darksynth low-ends, the bright, ear-wormy synth leads, and ooh, some added string pads at the peaks. It's nothing I haven't heard before from this genre, but it does it exactly the way I like it, which is the least I ever ask for in the music I like.

Follow-up track Rise Of The Pariah hints at another winner, with that good ol' Carpenter influence going in the rhythm. Unfortunately, the bright lead synths accompanying the tough low-end is a serious clash of tones, and the tune struggles to coalesce into anything memorable. Outbreak Of Evil suffers for this too, a strong opening of aggressive darksynth ideas, undone by a clashing lead synth; also, whoof, that keychange. And did I ever want to like Ultra-Violence, getting in on that outrun Perturbator stylee, if only the chirping synths meshed better.

And that sums up my experience with much of Werkstatt's catalogue, don't it? Excitable initial lure, a tune or two that captures my fancy, but a bunch of niggling things that reminds me there's a lot of amateur producers still finding their feet. Still, I'll always give the label credit for giving these aspiring musicians an opportunity, some of whom have gone onto bigger careers. Gotta' start somewhere.

The Angling Loser - Arena Of Apprehension

...txt: 2016

That's another Lee Norris project ticked off the list. Yet, I'm still barely half-way through 'em all, and who knows if I'll ever find a copy of Orphic Signals' Sounds Of The Neutron, or Tone Language's Patience Is the Key.This one's a little more involved than just another pairing with a producer for a singular jam session though. Nay, The Angling Loser is a conglomerate of musicians Lee happens to know and are all over for a jam. Sir Cliff is here! Porya Hatami is here! Shintaro Aoki is here! Martin Hirsch is here! Wil Bolton is here! Or might be here, depending on the album. Maybe they only all appeared in the first 2013 album, Author Of The Twilight, because I don't see all those names in Arena Of Apprehension's liner notes. Eh, who are all these names? Oh c'mon, I've reviewed a couple of them already. Porya for sure. Uh... Bolton, maybe? No? Hmm.

Anyway, that initial session must have worked out well enough for most of the players involved, as Lee, Porya, Shintaro, and Sir (Gordon Jones) reconvened a few years later for another. Not a huge one, mind you, Arena Of Apprehension running just five tracks long, averaging between eight and ten minutes in length. That's only forty-four minutes total, an astonishingly low number for guys making ambient and modern classical. Surely there were a few extra drone-scapes lurking in their minds. Were they all only available for a single day? Hey, it's possible, the scheduling of artists from various locales conflicting with one another; places to be, gigs to perform, families to care, other jobs needing attention. It was probably a small effort just to get enough of the O.G. Angling Loser posse in for at least one more outing under the project name.

So, of all the myriad Norris ambient projects I've taken in, what differentiates The Angling Loser, beyond the increased performers? At first ear-glance, acoustic guitar, as played by Gordon “Sir Cliff” Jones. Ain't heard no six-stringer strumming on Memex or Moss Garden, that's for sure. Maybe on an Autumn Of Communion album, but I haven't heard all those yet (no box-set of that duo for me, thanks). Along with the usual minimalist ambient pads and textures you hear in almost everything Lee's a part of, there's also piano, field recordings, and crackly treatments giving the music a lived-in, rustic, pastoral vibe.

Which makes sense, given that the whole idea behind The Angling Loser is capturing the mood of solitude out in the wilderness, nothing better to do than lounge by a small river, the futile hope of capturing rainbow trout the extent of your worries. There's even some cheeky instructional dialog towards the end of Rain For The Oblivious pointing out the inherent silliness of it all. Still, given the cover art, I must quibble that the music is almost too summery and tranquil. Ain't no way you'd hear so many chirping birds in the middle of a slushy snowfall.

Planetary Assault Systems - Arc Angel

Ostgut Ton: 2016

It's not that I became so enamoured with The Messenger that I just had to get Arc Angel right after. Like, surely if that album wooed me so, I'd have dug into the past of Planetary Assault Systems albums - say the more highly regarded Temporary Suspension, or even all the way back to The Drone Sector. Nay, I simply felt if I was gonna' pop my head ears-first into Luke Slater's recent music, I may as well double up my purchases, and Arc Angel was right there to greet me (also: L.B. Dub Corp ...hey, a new album from that project too? Oh, no Bandcamp option. Pity).

Still, I feared a double-LP of minimal techno would end up overkill, too much monotonous rhythms and non-existent melodies to endure. For sure I had some faith that it wouldn't be a bunch of plinky-plonk wank – 2016 is well removed from that era of dreadfully tedious 'minimal' – but even seventy-three minutes of utilitarian Berghain tools is just too much for a home-listening experience. In a dank, sweaty warehouse with lights low, booze cheap, and pills pure, yeah, let's have eight hours of the stuff!

And yet, I somehow found myself enthralled by Arc Angel for its duration. Don't get me wrong, it is a fairly one-note album, each track essentially doing the same thing throughout. Relentless, cavernous techno rhythms, deep sub-bass frequencies that you don't so much hear but feel (proper sound-system a must), and loopy, bleepy sounds serving as the hook for the worms in your ear. Slater made mention that he wanted this album to have more of a melodic focus, which seems odd for a collection of minimal techno, almost a betrayal of its ethos. Plus, these aren't exactly jingles you can hum in the shower, melody more of an abstract idea than anything conventional.

Melodic is what Arc Angel is though, after its own fashion. While I'm certain creative DJs have used some of these tracks in their sets, I don't get a sense these were strictly intended as clubbing tools. If Slater wanted to make those, he'd release them as EPs, and the smattering of records coming out in the same time frame as Arc Angel had nothing featured from here.

Ultimately, I feel Luke's goal was achieved, for no other reason than this is a solid home-listening collection of minimal techno. Absolutely it helps the 2CD outing has various ambient-drone Interlude doodles to break up any monotony, but even beyond that, I find myself lost in a hypnotic headspace more than feeling an urge to move my body (much less hit the skip button). I'd still prefer a couple explorations outside this particular strict genre exercise, but if I want to hear that from Slater, there's plenty of aliases and projects of his that do the trick. Like that new L.B. Dub Corp album, Side Effects. Surely that's on Spotify, yeah? Yeah! Mmm, dubby tech-house with none of that German haus business.

Various - Surf Beat

Not Now Music: 2016

At some point in my past, I realized I liked surf rock, even beyond it's starring role in Pulp Fiction. For sure there was that childhood interest in the Beach Boys laying the foundation, but it's more than that. The energetic pace, the abundance of echo and reverb, the general lack of vocals – why, it could almost be a form of 'techno'! My interest was cemented when a former boss put a bunch of it on the work playlist, a wonderful counter to the bland contemporary rock and pop we endured throughout the day. It got deep enough into my head that I concluded this was a genre of music that might be worth a little further exploration, just how fruitful a scene had sprung from Dick Dale's innovative guitar shredding.

However, the music came about when the single dominated the industry, and if I honestly wanted to take in all that this scene had to offer, I'd have to engage in some serious spelunking. Scouring the local used shops for records of various inches and lengths. Move beyond the famed bands like The Surfmen, The Revels, and The Champs, and discover unheralded acts like The Fireballs, The Frogmen, and The Trashmen. Then I'd have to go to the Meccas of surf rock itself: Malibu, Santa Barbara, San Diego, Topanga, Lower Trestles, Venice Beach, Zuma. Where surfers far and wide inspired musicians near and thin with their wave-ridin' skills, and undoubtedly flooded the market with a soundtrack to their carefree crazy pastime. Oh, the abundance of early '60 vinyl one is sure to find in all the pawn shops along the SoCal coastline, draining me of so much of my financial means, so very much.

Or I can pick up a 2-CD compilation of the stuff. That'll work too.

There's forty songs on Surf Beat, which may seem like a lot, but considering each tune only averages around two minutes, things breeze by like Frankie Avalon skimming the inside lane of the blue pipeline (is that how you do surfer jargon? I really haven't a clue). And while most of the famous ditties of the day are included, (no Wipeout, thank God), it isn't all surfer music all the time. Really, the term 'surf rock' only included a select few acts that made their mark in the surfer locales, while a lot of other rock bands of the day had their instrumentals often lumped in with the scene. Songs like The Ramrods' Riders In The Sky and The Outlaws' Indian Brave have more lineage with country music, painting pictures of galloping through the Sierra Range or Chihuahuan Desert. Ain't no surf in those parts of America, I reckon.

Which just confirms my inclination that 'surf rock' is but a small part of what I like to call 'desperado rock', taking the music's rebellious overtones and applying it to Americana like The Old West and The California Coast - a romanticism of an America that never was.

Autumn Of Communion - Polydeuces

...txt: 2016

Oh ho, another album I got a digital version of due to over-inflated out-of-print CD scarcity? Nah, fam', I actually did take the Discogs Marketplace route with this one, the alluring cover art of Saturn constantly drawing me to its page for a lovingly glance, all the while scoping for a chance 'discount' opportunity. And lo', one did emerge, for a 'reasonable' €25 - still a tad over what I would normally pay for a CD, but about as good as I figured I'd ever get on the used market. Besides, the seller was Mick Chillage himself, and seeing as how he likely never saw a single penny for those records I bought from Psychonavigation Records, I guess it's fair he receives a little extra financial compensation on this one.

So, Polydeuces, the first album Autumn Of Communion (Chillage and Lee Norris, in case you're just tuning in) released after all their prior albums had been numerical self-titled outings. It also marked the start of the duo's more freeform approach to songcraft, going in with little preconceived notion of what music they'd make, what sounds they'd build, what gear they'd utilize. They'd go full-tilt with the concept in the following Broken Apart... series, but here it sounds as though they're still in a feeling-out process, figuring out just how in-sync their musical synergy truly was when they're simply letting things flow as they go. Mind, I still only have Autumn Of Communion 4 as a base of comparison with their older material, their other albums just as out-of-print as this one. Except for that massive box-set they released, which I skipped on because, eh, I already have four of their albums now. Seemed redundant to get them again, y'know, especially having just sprung for this one on the Discogs Marketplace. Hmm, the timing on that, now that I think about it...

Anyhow, five main tracks are contained within Polydeuces, most hovering in the ten-to-thirteen minute mark, with a tiny three-minute stinger at the end. With titles like Oort Cloud and Cassini Spacecraft (squeee!), you bet we're on some space-age vibes here. Um, there's also tracks called Tectonics and Sikhote-Alin Mountains, about as earthly of concepts as you can get. And finally, a pair of tracks called Cathode Memory and Kolbe Reaction, which brings things down to the microscopic realms. Is it any surprise these tracks are conceptually arranged from 'bigness' to 'smallness'?

Naturally, we're mostly in ambient's domain here. Some tracks come off like long-lost compositions for a Hearts Of Space planetarium score, others edging closer to the realms of ambient techno, often within the same track. For a supposed freeform approach to creating these pieces, each track never feels like it's just randomly dawdling about, and Tectonics even offers a bit of an ear-wormy hook, in that understated ambient techno sort of way. I doubt Polydeuces will convert anyone to Autumn Of Communion's charms, but at seven albums deep, Mick and Lee deserved a little creative indulgence.

Peter Broderick - Partners

Erased Tapes Records: 2016

I'm perusing the Ultimae online record shop, sifting through a bunch of items, when one with a striking cover catches my eye, as cover art is wont to do. Like, it's not derelict boats, but dead trunks of trees strewn across a beach, bathed in the dark blue of pre-dawn (maybe), it triggers something within my grey matter of a wistful past. I'm certain this is a shot of the Oregon Coast, a lovely strip of Earth where the endless Pacific crashes upon sandy dunes, filling the surrounding lands with salty air (wait...). It's not too dissimilar to the regions of the West Coast Of Canada that I grew up in, though my locales were far more rocky than the Oregon sands, due to all the fjords creating different erosion conditions. See, with all the power of the Pacific crashing down, waves and wind can erode coasts with ease, but fjords limit that process, all the while creating larger tidal pools where a multitude of crabs, shellfish, starfish, regular fish, and seaweed flourish. Life as we know it may not have existed without these tide pools! Not that I'm saying sandy beaches are over-rated, but c'mon, give those slimey, slippery rock beaches with the gas-filled seaweed that squeaks and pops when you walk over it, as though crying in pain from your negligence, a little respect, yo'.

ANYHOW, I just had to buy Peter Broderick's album blind. Like, I thought the name looked a little familiar, and it turned out I had seen it as part of the Slaapwel Records catalogue, plus an interview with Resident Advisor, but that was the extent of my recognition of the man. Looking through his Discoggian data reveals a lot of albums released in the past decade on a number of labels I don't know of (Kning Disk, Digitalis Limited, Fang Bomb, Hush Records, Brian Records, Type), though he's made Erased Tapes Records a semi-home as of late. He's also run the gamut in terms of musical leanings, indulging in folk rock, dream pop, and modern classical, to name-drop a few.

It's in the modern classical camps we find Partners, and of the 'minimalist piano as played in an grand empty concert hall' variety at that. I didn't know that when I bought the album, and after hearing the opening track, I thought I was in for something entirely different, some sort of spoken-word poetry record. That's just the first track though, and there's an exhaustive detailing behind the process it came about, which ties into the second track, Mr. Broderick's take on the John Cage composition In A Landscape. Cage's deconstructionist methods inspired Peter's own piano pieces, something about rolling dice, assigning numbers to notes, re-rolling to determine their order... It's all rather artistically pretentious sounding, but the music itself is quite pleasant, with subtle electronic touches and treatments filling in the ambience. Definitely an album where the process can be a tad thick, but it doesn't detract from the finished product.

Beatbox Machinery - New Wave Avalanche

Werkstatt Recordings: 2016

Just because I said I'm tapping out on Werkstatt Recordings for a while didn't mean I was tapping out altogether. They had a lot of bulk CD sales, see, and I couldn't help myself in nabbing a massive amount of 'em, even if I had almost no clue what would be on them. For sure I figured they'd offer synthwave, plus a whole lotta' love given to '80s music like synth-pop, darkwave, new wave, EBM, and maybe some unexpected surprises too (futurepop, is that you?). What I didn't expect was such a lenient degree of quality control, but hey, everyone's gotta' start somewhere, and good on Werkstatt in giving so many their first taste of real label-backed business (however that business may go down behind closed doors). On this buyer's end, however, that means it's time to take a step back from all the discount deals, and only focus on the items that truly interest me. Y'know, maybe as I should have in the first place. But, oh man, would I have truly dug into Kriistal Ann otherwise? Conflict, conflict...

Meanwhile, let's carry on with all that I've nabbed from the Greece label, this time with another outing from Werkstatt head-man Toxic Razor, once again from his Beatbox Machinery alias. New Wave Avalanche is one of many singles he's released over the years, and was included in one of the aforementioned bulk deals, hence my having it now. Yeah, not gonna' deny I've been generally lukewarm to his brand of synth music, but that may be in part of just not taking in enough of his material. Like, I'm pretty I can pass on his earliest industrial techno excursions, but he's adopted plenty more retro-leaning tunes since the turn of the decade. He's also paired up with other producers I quite enjoy (Ann, GosT), and he definitely knows how to capture '80s cheese-chic in his cover art few other synthwavers out there have (oh God, that Metal On Metal cover – so stupidly simple, so dope!).

Point I'm getting at is, of all the Beatbox Machinery items that could have been included in whatever that bulk CD deal I grabbed (I honestly forget what the theme was now – probably somehting 'synth'), New Wave Avalanche comes off a little drab in comparison to the rest of Mr. Razor's discography. It almost seems too self-serious, like there's Important Messages in this EP. It's just the usual anti New World Order stuff we've heard from the industrial camps for decades now, with titles like Slavestate, Deoxidize The Union, and New World Of Shit. The music itself mashes EBM and synthwave into Mr. Razor's unapologetic, under-produced aesthetic, which fits the anti-establishment tone, but Toxic's own lyrics do little to inspire me to Fight The Man. I get he's going for that detached vibe, as though modern existence has stripped all emotion and feeling from our sense of self, but man, I'd just as soon succumb to the numbness than overcome listening to this.

Aidan Casserly - Incubus

Werkstatt Recordings: 2016

This has been bugging me ever since I threw this album from Aidan Casserly on: what vocalist does he remind me of? Like, for sure one of those New Romantic new wavers of the '80s springs to mind, but it feels lazy to name-drop someone like Simon Le Bon or Dave Gahan. No, it's someone more specific than that, by my knowledge of the New Romantics of the '80s is pitifully slight, so I'm drawing a blank. Heck, at this point, I'm thinking Curt Smith or Roland Orzabal, which is way off base for any number of reasons. Or maybe it's not even someone from the '80s. Aidan clearly takes influence from jazz crooners of decades past, as his albums flit with traditional lounge soul as often as synth-pop. Heck, he even got Kriistal Ann to duet with him for a full record's worth of tunes on Muse, which Werkstatt Recordings surprisingly released, one of the un-synthiest items in the catalogue of the self-proclaimed vanguards of retro synth music. Oh, and speaking of Muse, its cover-art, which only features Ms. Ann, is also used as the default picture for Mr. Casserly's Spotify profile. What the bizmark, Spotti?

So Aidan Casserly's been around a while, first starting out as part of the Irish synth-pop group Empire State Human in the early 2000s. Yep, even that far back, among that whole ironic-retro revival era, there were chaps making straight-forward odes to The Human League – what better time to enter the game when interest in the O.G. of synth-pop were resurgent, amirite? The group remains active to this date, but that hasn't stopped Mr. Casserly from pursuing solo interests as well. Aside from the collaborative album with Kriistal Ann, and this particular album Incubus, which I just uploaded, Lord Discogs lists two other releases to his name. Uh, and Spotify has four additional releases, plus a... soundtrack for The Amityville Legacy? Is that the same Aidan, Spotify? You already got his profile picture wrong.

In any event, Incubus is his third album with Werkstatt, and to be blunt, I didn't really vibe to this. Part of it is just due to being a style of synth-pop I'm not that into, Aidan's over-emotive croon not connecting with me like other new wave singers. I'm not discounting his pipes, and maybe in another, more traditional context they would tickle my ears better (like, maybe in a more Bowie setting), but the stripped-down synth-pop backings don't mesh so well. Some of the backing melodies are charming enough, and a couple tunes do find Mr. Casserly hitting stirring climaxes that get me roused (cannot deny the big “We're dead sin!” peak of Dead Sin does me right; sounds like "We're dancing" to my ears tho'). Also, Kriistal Ann pops in for a couple guest spots (Here Come The Dolls, Slow), and there's an interlude-instrumental in Escape Is Not An Option. Aside from those moments though, not much beyond Aidan's own croon stuck out on Incubus, which isn't his fault. Just not music for me.