Yamaoka - A Frozen Stream

Carpe Sonum Records: 2018

It's been a couple years since I last talked about Yamoaka, plenty of time to have dove deep into his extensive back-catalogue. Sadly, I have not done so, which is weird given how much I enjoyed his collaborative album with Purl, Simple Songs. I must have been so wrapped up in Purlmania (really, an extension of Silent Seasonmania), that I overlooked Yamoaka's contributions to that album as something worth further exploration. I can't even cop to grabbing A Frozen Stream as the start of my course correction, nabbing it because the striking cover art caught my attention in another Carpe Sonum Records raid. But man, after listening to this one, I definitely need to do more digging into Yamaoka's discography, his Databloem material at bare minimum.

And what exactly is the Yamaoka stylee? Looping music done on the fly, for the most part, with a heavy dose of echo such that his sounds tend to create rhythms of their own, while melodies shimmer in a staccato fashion. Most would name-drop The Field or Gas in comparison, while I naturally refer to Rapoon. None are entirely accurate though, Yamaoka finding his own niche with such techniques. Whereas the others often use samples, lending their loops to a more angular feel, Yamaoka crafts his live, creating a natural flow in his tracks. His contributions to Simple Songs certainly stand out now that I know what to listen for, Purl's work reliant on backing pads in dubby treatments in that album. A Frozen Stream is Yamaoka on his own, so less of that, but still just as much of a trancey journey.

Aaah, not the 'j' word! Okay, yeah, that's overselling things a little. This is all just a little too abstract for a proper journey album, but each piece is a lovely little ride while they play. Some are rather upbeat without relying on much of percussion, if at all (Shaman, Three Stairs), while others use sparse kicks, toms, and hi-hats (Reply, MB (Short), Room (Fade In), leading the music into the domain of melodic, hypnotic techno. Or ambient techno. Or neo-trance. Whatever you prefer.

There's also a few pure ambient pieces on A Frozen Stream but even these have subtle looping elements to them rather than traditional drone. Tracks like White Out and Seat even hint at some modern classical touches in Yamaoka's repertoire, which wouldn't surprise me considering one of his Databloem albums is titled Short Films For Long Days.

The only real odd-man out on this lovely little album is On Switch, a track that is so rhythm reliant, I couldn't help but think of Amon Tobin as it played. It certainly has plenty of time to stretch, breaking the ten-minute mark and all. While some of the gentle, sparkly synth tones still lend a sense of tranquility to the track, the drums are drastically harsh compared to what's come before. Be prepared for a sudden whiplash should you choose to doze off to A Frozen Stream.

La Luz - Floating Features

Hardly Art: 2018

And so we come to a conclusion in my little excursion into the world of surf rock. As my music collection currently stands, I've no more items waiting in the never-ending queue, and it's appropriate La Luz brings things to a finale. They were the first band introducing me in my initial wanderings into 'nu-surf', and with the dust all settled, remain my favourite of all my samplings. Just a shame the band's been stuck on hiatus these past few years.

Of course, it's not their fault, the 2020 Pandemic putting a halt on the careers of many musicians. Small, underground artists especially felt the crunch, and while band leader Shana Cleveland did release a solo folk album in the interim, one hopes this forced interlude hasn't put a permanent mothballing of Lu Luz. There's only so many 'retro dream pop by way of contemporary surf rock' all-women bands out there.

More so, their last album was showing some growth in musicianship, leading to potentially fascinating avenues in the future. I've mentioned before the band's version of surf rock wasn't really what you'd think of traditional, in that their aesthetic didn't always reflect southern California vibes. For sure there's the dream pop attributes, but location more often than not influences art, and La Luz' Pacifc northwest heritage could not be ignored (erm, especially if you're intimately familiar with the lands). With Floating Features, the band looked to shake off some of that greytone, fully embracing the summery Cali sound, with a sprinkle of psychedelia.

You can just feel it from the opening few tracks on the album, things just a little on edge even as the production is more expansive than ever. The titular instrumental opener is big and strident, letting you know you're in for an adventure in sun-baked clime's rather than insular coastal forests, while follow-up Cicada quickens the pace some, sparing no space in the reverb. Loose Teeth gets fuzzier and full of guitar grit, and Mean Dream... Well, it sounds more like traditional mellow La Luz, but the music video certainly dips deep into retro substance shenanigans. Blacklights will never grow old.

Much of Floating Features carries on various dream rock vibes, Lonely Dozer and Don't Leave Me On The Earth the only other times things get 'surfy'. It's honestly hard pegging this album as surf rock though, as the reverb is much more vast than the frenetic shredding of the genre could allow. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if some folks get turned off by the grand sonics on display. It's certainly far removed from the basic garage production of earlier La Luz, but the song-writing is still top notch.

Whether we'll get another La Luz album remains to be seen. There were some personnel changes before everything was put on hold, but I can't imagine this being a final outing. Shana Cleveland seems far too motivated to end a band just because a global virus stalled momentum.

Alphaxone - Edge Of Solitude

Cryo Chamber: 2018

Speaking of Cryo Chamber artists I've a lot of catching up to do, here's Alphaxone! Again, I was able to keep pace with his rate of output, all the way to this particular album, plus that collaborative outing with Xerxes The Dark (Aftermath). Since then, however, Mehdi's released two more solo records, plus another collaboration with Mount Shrine. And, that's not all, another collab' with ProtoU due out even as I type these words! I swear by Azathoth's mandible, I did not plan to be covering these two artists back-to-back right as Back To Beyond was ready to drop. I almost feel obligated to cover it now. I mean, sure I'm likely to pick it up eventually, but should I forgo my strict, orderly queue to capitalize upon a flash chance of circumstance? That's how it starts though. Cheat just once, and chaos is the only outcome.

I've mentioned in the past that Alphaxone's general musical trajectory was slowly but surely in ascent from our earthly realms (after having arrived from altered dimensions). Edge Of Solitude completes the journey, taking us as far into the foreboding cosmos as he's ever taken us. Ooh, this ought to be some mint space drone, I wager, perhaps on par with fellow Cryo Chamber alum Silent Universe (aka: Ugasanie). Let's throw this bad boy on and get swept away in existential dread.

Things start out with Environment, a rather lush bit of layered ambience that wouldn't sound out of place on a Silent Season record, even containing the faint sounds of birds chirping as it fades out. Wait, what? Oh, I get it, Mehdi often starts his albums out with something more calm, luring you into a sense of security. I'm sure the next track, Road To Nowhere, will get us deep in the cosmic drone. Ah, hm, no, it doesn't. This is rather calm and soothing as well. Maybe a touch of the mysterious and slightly melancholic, but nothing ominous about this piece either. Solar Halos does have an oppressive drone going for it, but switches gears midway featuring a building bell melody. What's this, actual songcraft in my dark ambient?

I know it's only the opening three tracks, but Edge Of Solitude has to be one of the most un-dark ambient albums I've heard out of Cryo Chamber. Sure, you'd find the occasional piece that may feature a little melody, whether a piano or guitar or strings or trumpet, but nothing quite so 'uplifting' as these bells in Solar Halos.

Alphaxone does come correct with the darker stuff in the middle of this album, though even here there are traces of serenity. Echosphere almost goes full Tomita with its synths, while the desolation of Lost Horizon brings back the tranquil field recordings of some outdoor park. And when the final two tracks get back on that traditional ambient vibe, I can't help but feel remarkably relaxed, a mood I never thought I say about a Cryo Chamber release. Anymore like this?

ProtoU - Echoes Of The Future

Cryo Chamber: 2018

I've fallen way behind on this label. You may think two years isn't much of a gap, but Cryo Chamber remains relentless in its rate of output, over fifty albums Simon Heath's print has produced since I last splurged. It ain't for a lack of interest. Even glancing at their recent releases, there's a pile of items immediately catching my eye. Some things gotta' take a backseat though, and it'd be silly of me to snatch up a pile of new albums when I'm still sifting through the ones I picked up last time. Okay, maybe that new Sabled Sun CD, at the very least.

Even ProtoU, I feel like I've slipped on. She was among a handful of artists I'd kept pace with when she first debuted with Dronny Darko on Earth Songs. The streak was broken in my missing The Edge Of Architecture, and though I got her next two albums, she's released two more since. I think the only Cryo Chamber project I have gathered all releases of is Sabled Sun, which seems appropriate, given it was that project that lured me in the first place.

Sasha's hinted at an interest in leaving our earthly realms in her Stardust collaboration with Alphaxone, but Echoes Of The Future is a full-blown cosmic outing. Okay, not quite, more of a launching, as the remnants of whatever civilization remains on our planet hopefully seeks a better life than what they leave behind. Not that the 'music' within is explicit about it – not even the track titles are clear in their narrative. Nay, I had to scope out the Bandcamp PR blurb for the the album's concept. Even if some of these pieces are interesting in their own right, it helps having full thematic context when hearing atonal drone.

The first couple tracks are fairly typical of dark drone, though Interlinked fades out with the sounds of radio chatter, like receiving transmissions from abroad. 4325d shifts gears (heh) into the mechanical, as though you're wandering launch pads devoid of humans, yet filled with giant sentinels waiting to be sent to the stars, steam and fog gently floating from their frames. There's a sense of subtle awe in your surroundings, but sadness too.

Mid-track Drawings Of Nebula marks a sharp turn in choice of soundscape, a heavy synth drone almost pushing down on your ears. It carries on like this for a while, though once again, voices from beyond are heard as the track fades out. The next two tracks mostly get back to the dark dronescapes with some field recordings flourishes, though I can't help but zone out while they're playing. Vessels Of God, on the other hand, brings in a mournful melody that wouldn't sound too out of place in a 36 ambient piece. True, there's a fair amount of static and astro-chatter distortion, especially towards the end when the melody is practically subsumed by it. Still, a surprisingly hopeful ending to a generally bleak album.

Perturbator - B-Sides And Remixes, Vol. I

Blood Music: 2018

I should have gotten this other collection of Perturbator remixes and b-sides. Only reason I initially bought Vol. II over Vol. I was because I liked Vol. II's cover art more. If Blood Music is going to keep having sales though, there's no excuse in not completing the set. So here's B-Sides And Remixes, Vol. I, with... I assume is Perturbator's Night Driving Avenger companion? Side-kick? Or possibly nemesis? I'm not sure where she fits in the greater Perturbator lore, all the associated artwork having our motorcycle riding, black leather clad, boss helmet-wearing protagonist out night-avenging solo. Gosh, might she even be a cyborg? She does have a mannequin look about her, but what are those tendrils writhing up her arm and thigh? There's so much wicked-cool possibilities one could glean from this art, but we'll get no answers in this compilation. Unless Dead Astronauts somehow figure into the greater Perturbator darksynth universe. It wouldn't surprise if Gost does.

Anyhow, if you recall my review of B-Sides And Remixes, Vol. II, you may remember I spent more time talking about James Kent's tour than any of the music on that release. I suppose it's because there just wasn't much to say, about as typical a collection of b-sides and rarities as you'd expect to hear from a synthwave super-star. What I neglected to mention was beyond the video game and horror movie rubs, there weren't any actual remixes on that edition, all of them featured on the first volume.

Despite having a full LP's worth of remixes here, Kent hadn't lent his talents out that often. Four of the ten tracks available come from the Dead Astronauts' self-titled EP, where Perturbator did his own stylistic alternate versions on each tune. Probably the most interesting of these is In Disguise, where the original is standard synthwavey synth-pop, while James turns it into a cinematic beatless affair, befitting a grand opening credits scene. Unhappy Woman and These Bones up the tempo more, but B-Side slows the rhythm way down, almost getting into New Beat territory.

These tracks are all well and good, presenting a Perturbator before he really broke out, but I'm sure you're here to hear more of those gnarly dark synths and thrashy outrun beats. Good news then, as the next batch of remixes covers the whole lot! Can't say I'm familiar with many of them – only Mega Drive rings a bell – but who cares when it's got all the Perturbator sounds you've come for? Sorry, Reznyck and Dizkodeath, even the James Kent rub wasn't enough of a bump for your careers. And who is “Slick Moranis”? Lord Discogs lists this Pertubator remix as their lone appearance. Maybe a downtempo synth-pop alias for James to indulge in? It's sure unlike anything else in his repertoire.

James' go with Gost's Behomoth ends things off, which is fine, but now I want to hear that Dance With The Dead rub on Reign In Hell again. Devil horns to the moon!

Massimo Vivona - Breathe

Carpe Sonum Records: 2018

Possibly one of the oddest pieces of cover art in the Carpe Sonum catalogue. Most times, it faithfully captures the general tone or vibe you might expect to hear in one of their CDs, but I'm at a loss in figuring out what they're going for here. There certainly isn't anything that suggests field recordings of Antarctic wildlife, or screaming polar fowl. Did Krackmonster Ink., the graphic artist responsible for Carpe Sonum's cover art, just have this photo lying about, and Massimo Vivona was willing enough to let it be used for his album on here? Or was it a special request from Mr. Vivona himself?

The Italian has had quite the storied career in music, one few are terribly familiar with. He started out in Frankfurt making their brand of trance as John Sferos, but never got much attention. After a brief flirtation with Fax+ as Elevator, he found some modest success for the rest of the '90s making acid techno (of an Emmanual Top flavour) under various guises like Kinetico, Luke Cage, and OJ Project. Not the most exciting of musical journeys, but that one lone acid record on Pete Namlook's print landed Mr. Vivona a spot on the indispensable, necessitous tribute box-set Die Welt Ist Klang. That got Massimo chummy enough with the Carpe Sonum crew to have a brand new album commissioned from him, his first proper LP in nearly two decades!

And reading that previous paragraph, you might be wondering what an acid techno chap might have to offer a label primarily focused on the downbeats. Nothing at all, which is why Massimo's gone way back with Breathe, a record drawing influence from the Berlin School of long-form '70s synth noodling. Okay, not that far back, the synths he uses sounding more modern than anything super-vintage. Yet not so modern either, such that there's a bunch of weird glitch noises and whatnot. Nay, right in the fine middle ground you get from a lot of Fax+ alum, where the lines between trance and ambient are nicely blurred as though glanced through nostalgia goggles.

I'd even go so far as to call this stuff 'stripped' trance, everything but the beats present: spacey pads, building arps, subtle melodic leads. Which is what much of Berlin School was in the first place, trance just adding brisk rave rhythms to them. Honestly, a fair bit of Breathe reminds me of the opening portions of a Petar Dundov track, before he lets the techno pulse take over. This is wonderful for the overall vibe of the album, but kinda' has a drawback too.

I keep anticipating these tracks to start soaring, shifting into a higher gear, but they never do, leaving me a bit wanting as each Phase plays out. It's not their fault, Massimo clearly crafting them to be as they are, but my classic trance upbringing trained me otherwise. Maybe if I'd been weened on the '70s more than the '90s, I'd have different expectations?

Steven Rutter - BrainFog

FireScope: 2018

A significant album for Steve Rutter, in that this was his first full-length under his own name. He'd already tested the waters with the From Me To You EP the year prior, even as B12 records were still being released, but if he didn't want to continue relying on that bit of legacy, it was time to go all in, fully committed to producing as 'Steven Rutter' from here on out. Unless Michael Golding hooked back up with him for some more music. No sense not dusting the B12 moniker off then.

BrainFog would also commit FireScope to the LP format. The label had already put out Morphology's Traveller (a criminally overlooked outing of spacey electro), but for a print primarily making its hay with digital EPs and collector's vinyl (not to mention vinyl-etched novelty CDs), upping the ante with double LPs could be a risky business vent- and they all sell out in an instant. I swear, this hobby sometimes...

So, BrainFog, Steve Rutter's first full-length album (and the first B12 LP since Last Days Of Silence, if you want to get weird about it). I dunno, I'm having a bit of a, erm, brain fog in how to start this one, in that I feel like I'm utterly tapped out of anything fresh to say about Mr. Rutter's brand of stripped-down IDM-leaning techno. I suppose it is more active and involved than the downright minimalist outings he was doing while shopping the B12 brand about other labels, but a good chunk of this album's middle portion seems taken up by sound experiments over bare-bones electro rhythms.

Let me start with where BrainFog shines, when Steve provides a solid techno thump leading the charge. Opener Sleep Gives Freedom mostly works the moody, slow-burn of a track, all about eerie atmosphere, while follow-up Statuesque goes about its business with 808 thuds and a simple synth lead that easily lodges in your head as bleeps and blips dance about. Then it's not until track nine that we get back to the techno, Infinity Engine a nice little trancey number, while Takedown gets its electro robot-groove going with a bassline that's utterly infectious. Damn, do I ever want to hear this one on a massive system, such separation of sound going on here. Final track Hand In Hand's rhythm is more classic Detroitism, but retains the tempo of BrainFog's techno predecessors while keeping mysterious sci-fi feel the rest of the album has.

If anything, that theme is what keeps BrainFog at least an interesting play-through. Yeah, the middle portion has a lot of tracks more interested in sound experiments wrapped around spare IDM rhythms, which keeps with the ol' school Artificial Intelligence ethos. There's also a sense of strange exploration about them though. Like, as though you're navigating through alien caverns, each track some strange, new scenery unseen by human eyes before. Well, except for Squad Free Force. I keep thinking Annie Lennox is about to start singing when that one starts.

Master Margherita - Border 50

Ultimae Records: 2018

For much of Ultimae's history, there was a sense its musical talent being nurtured in-house. Most of their early acts had their break-outs with the label, while other producers who'd wandered into its sphere had some of their biggest exposure with Aes Dana's print. All well and good and creating something of an exclusivity aura about your label, but I can't help but wonder if it hampered Ultimae's long-term prospects when its alum drifted elsewhere. After all, what journeyman producer would even bother sending demos to the ritziest country club on the continent?

Which is what makes this album from Master Margherita all the more unique to Ultimae's catalogue, an active producer since the start of this century. One Moreno Antognini, he's mostly self-released material through his own Casalinga Production print, but bounced around other labels too (Peak Records, Electrik Dream Records, Blue Hour Sounds). He's also had a robust compilation presence over the past two decades, mostly appearing on downtempo and chill-out collections, but a little psy-trance too. I even crossed paths with him before, on the 2007 Waveform Records outing Waveform Transmissions (Volume One). And... can this be right? A track on the Steve Lawler triple-CD set Viva on Ministry Of Sound? That can't be the same Master Margherita, but if it is, man is that ever a deep dig on Mr. Lawler's part.

Still, ol' Moreno was doing all this with nary a connecting dot to Ultimae. Then in 2015, he released the double-album Afro Dots, which got a spiffy Ultimae Mixdown™ from Aes Dana, plus a track on the Ultimae free-comp Enfold 01. And just like that, Master Margherita is part of the cool-kids club! (okay, the association goes back a little earlier, Aes Dana also doing a mastering job on the 2011 album The Marginal Rules, but c'mon, the pun was right there!).

So it seemed appropriate that Mr. Antognini would release something proper with the label, perhaps some sort of retrospective or summation of the Master Margherita stylee. That's certainly what I thought in my initial go-throughs with Border 50, what with all these mixes, dubs, and alternative takes. Plus, for a generally drone-heavy ambient record, there's a fair bit of stylistic difference between each track. Cosmogram features '70s era space synths, while Shruti One has soft woodwinds and gentle tribal drumming. Geophilous is almost an acoustic drone outing, but Extending Downwards is pure synth drone. So much disparity in sounds on this album, surely they must all come from various points in M.M.'s extensive discography.

But no, these are all originals for Border 50. Turns out ol' Moreno is one of those electronic artists that likes adding 'Mix' or 'Dub' to nearly everything he releases. Still, all these different ambient passages and vintage synth textures sound lovely with the Ultimae Mixdown™ on them, and have seldom been heard in the label's history. And hey, there's even a 'dub techno' outing in the titular track, just in case you need your contemporary Ultimae fix.

Eximia - Visitors

Cryo Chamber: 2018

Dark ambient covers quite a few topics within its bleak oeuvre, but alien invasion isn't very common. While I'm sure there are examples floating about, I've seldom stumbled upon them. This genre would rather crush your sense of being with dronescapes of a universe utterly devoid of life, an empty realm where conscious beings are more a fluke of incidental chemical reactions than part of a grand design. Where man may scream into the void all he wants, but there's no one to hear him, no one to respond back. Having aliens in your dark ambient, even hostile ones, defeats that concept.

Still, Cryo Chamber has never let a concept go untapped, and they found a worthy contender to explore an alien invasion album in Eximia. Lord Discogs doesn't list much of anything from the project, this here Visitors essentially a debut for Dominik Ragancík. The Slovakian has been busy elsewhere though, something of a sound designer and engineer for many other forms of media. Last-dot-FM lists previous credits such as car commercials and video games, including the Mass Effect series. Hmm, isn't that the one where an ancient Eldritch horror of a robotic space-faring race called The Reapers goes around exterminating all biological life, a purging of all organics from the cosmos? Sounds right up dark ambient's alley, that one.

So what kind of music is a sound designer inclined to make? None what so ever! There's barely a hint of any melody or even atonal drone throughout this album. Not until near the end of final track World Without End do we hear any sort of instrumentation, and it's discordant strings at that, not exactly the most cheerful of sounds.

Nay, Eximia has taken Cryo Chamber's 'cinematic drone' manifesto to its most extreme end, the bulk of Visitors consisting of sound effects and field recordings. There's little room for interpretation here, though plenty to tickle the imagination should you sit back with your eyes closed. Like, the opening track, Day One. Wide open spaces, shuffling feet in empty buildings, an eerie wind on the distant horizon, when a low, feral growl echoes upon the air, thunder crackling across the sky... Then, an ominous thrum pierces the atmosphere, a sound so strange, so foreign, so alien, it sets off all your primitive warning signals. Descending from on high, unknown and foreboding. What images play out in your mind as this unfolds will likely depend on what sci-fi you've consumed over the years.

So First Contact cranks the creep-out factor before seemingly going tits-up - guess Amy Adams didn't have much luck in this scenario. Abyss goes even further into the murk, sounding like you're stuck in some specimen vat while hearing horrors carry on from beyond. And if mankind's fate wasn't already clear, Extinction features the ghostly wails of a species in its last throes, muted sirens marking the end of everything. Well, it was a good run, while it lasted. So, which of you tripods has the tea?

Kriistal Ann - Touched On The Raw

Wave Records: 2018

When I first discovered Kriistal Ann during my Werkstatt Recordings splurge, I sensed a musician on the rise, a talent that would grow into a force to be reckoned with in a larger darkwave scene. Indeed, she'd just come out with this particular album, with a suitable amount of Bandcamp hype behind it. Wave Records was even springing for a limited vinyl roll-out, no small thing unless you happened upon Blood Music. Which she kind of did, via a guest spot on a GosT album. Anyhow, that all seems like a moot point, as she hasn't released any solo work since Touched On The Raw, instead reconvening with Toxik Razor for another Paradox Obscur album. And while I know it hasn't been that long since this album came out, two years does feel like an eternity these days, unlike the rest of the zippy '10s where two years breezed on by.

Kriistal wasn't entirely inactive during the period between Cultural Bleeding and Touched On The Raw, also releasing the collaborative album Muse with fellow Werkstatt alum Aidan Casserly. That one was much different that the cold, ethereal synthwave music she'd been making to that point, a surprising outing of beatnik jazz and occasional operatic dalliances. Extremely arty stuff, is what I'm getting at, but helps provide something of a bridge linking Ms. Ann's last two solo albums. For the production on Touched On The Raw isn't nearly so rough as past records. Heck, there was already quite the leap from Refraction to Delirious Skies, as much as there was from Delirious Skies to Cultural Bleeding. Yet even as the production and songcraft improved, through it all was an unmistakable rawness, harsh synths and brittle rhythms always serving Kriistal's vocals.

I don't get that same feeling with Touched On The Raw, ironic given the album's title. Absolutely there's still the ethereal synth-pop and darkwave overtures, but everything sounds much cleaner and smooth. Machines running in perfect synchronicity instead of struggling to keep pace. Ghostly, rather than ghastly. Not to mention all the overt jazz influences about, ample amounts of saxophone and skittery rhythms meshing with wailing synths and moody pads. And gosh, the titular track could almost be neo-trance? It almost feels like a throwback hearing the brittle textures of Secret Shore, though the saxophone and ...chipmunk Japanese (?) vocals do remind you this is still post-Muse Kriistal we're dealing with here.

A couple bonus tracks round out the CD, a pair of remixes from Marcello Gallo. The second doesn't do much different with Talking To The Beast, basically beefing up the original's spare rhythms and ethereal elements while leaving the structure of the song the same. His go with Black Art was quite a surprise though. Whereas the original is the usual Kriistal Ann minimalist ethereal-wave outing, Mr. Gallo takes that and adds a bumpin' New Beat beat with a ridiculously addictive bassline. More of this in future albums from Ms. Ann, please! The jazzier stuff is okay too, I guess.

Valanx - Tidelands

Reverse Alignment: 2018

Before I get into this album, a tip of the hat (toast of the beer; solute of the scapula) to Reverse Alignment, as the label has retired. I do this because they were my first tentative forays into the wider world of dark ambient, away from the comforting womb of Cryo Chamber. While it was familiar names like Dronny Darko and SiJ that lured me there, discovering further works from names like Ajna and B°TONG clued me into how much more this genre had to offer. I likely would have discovered other labels regardless, but props to Reverse Alignment for being there when the time was right.

Valanx is Arne Weinberg, a German who spent much of the '00s in the world of techno. Not that fussy, stuffy minimal stuff, but true-blue Detroit-nodding robot music, at a time when doing so wasn't as fashionable. As the decade turned, he moved on from that to start exploring other musical avenues, including a venture into Echocord dub techno as Onmutu Mechanicks (because of course). Valanx appears to have been the most fruitful of these projects though, first appearing with Xenolith in 2012 on diametric., followed by a number of albums and EPs in the following half-decade. Tidelands was released with it being a capper to the Valanx project, and perhaps his musical career for the time being as well, his Discoggian info ending after the album's release. Just like Reverse Alignment!

Unlike some nebulously conceptual dark ambient albums, Tidelands is crystal-clear about its theme: exploration of a waterworld. Only this isn't some adventurous romp in search of dryland while fending off diesel pirates led by a one-eyed Dennis Hopper. No, this is a world devoid of any hope for humanity, the oceans reclaiming the planet for itself, suffocating all land life, to say nothing of wiping out their achievements. Track titles like Drowned, Neverending Waves & Currents, and God Of The Maelstrom paint a remarkably bleak picture indeed.

Oddly, the actual music within, such as it is, doesn't sound terribly aquatic. This is mostly a drone album, with heavy emphasis on minimalist soundscape, but much of Arne's production features distant echoes and reverb on background effects, lending the tracks to a more cavernous aesthetic. If I had no track titles or concept info, I'd swear Tidelands was about spelunking, or maybe journeying to the centre of the Earth. Where you find ancient ruins.

So this is a fairly droning, bleak album, though a couple 'bright' spots do emerge. Neverending Waves & Currents features something of a meditative monk chant as part of its drone cycle. In The Deep, Where He Reigns Almighty is almost blissful and serene in its shimmering dronescape. And finally, the final titular track is surprisingly uplifting, finding a dry respite from the oceanic desolation. Haha, just kidding, this is the creepiest piece on the album, as though venturing into completely alien territory for the first time. Must have been what it felt like for the first air breathers.

Autumn Of Communion - Reservoir Of Video Souls

Fantasy Enhancing: 2018

It appeared that Lee Norris was shifting his music ventures down different avenues, stepping back from managing ...txt while consolidating his Autumn Of Communion works into a box-set. He followed that up by establishing Fantasy Enhancing, debuting the fresh label with another Autumn Of Communion album. Everything old is new again!

Naturally, I had to get in on that action as soon as it was announced. Who knows how limited and rare these albums might become? Firsts of anything in these post Fax+ ambient techno circles always end up with ridiculous prices on the collector's market, and this particular outing from Lee and Mick looked to be a very spiffy first indeed. Why, they even went the DVD-sized package route for Fantasy Enhancing, making them something akin to a book on your music shelves. Boy, am I ever glad I sprung for it when it first came out. Shame I somehow, inexplicably lost it.

No, really, how does one lose a CD with packaging that big? It's not like there's a lot of space in my apartment for it to wander off to. Did the mice in the walls steal it? A nosy landlord nabbing it as a deposit for all the shelving holes I'm leaving? Will it miraculously appear when I finally move, unearthed from some impossibly deep couch cushion? Mysteries upon mysteries!

Okay, enough belly-moaning about my music collecting tribulations. Is Reservoir Of Video Souls any good? Sure things it is – it's not like Misters Norris and Chillage had taken a long break between this and Metal such that they'd lost their songcraft synergy. If anything, this album feels like something of a return to an older style, a simpler style, a 'not-quite-so-experimental-drone' style. A lot of Autumn Of Communion 4 feels, is what I'm saying, what with those spaced-out melodies and soft rhythms, conjuring long nights spent gazing upon stars slowly circling the heavens above.

Five tracks make up this album, each hovering in that sweet spot of twelve-to-twenty minutes of runtime. Plenty of room for the AoC lads to indulge in some freeform music making before striking upon a lead melody, and not so long that the plot gets lost along the way. Well, except opener Metacognition, so abruptly switching gears midway through, I keep thinking it's an entirely different track, and that Reservoir Of Video Souls is a continuously mixed album. It's the only track on here that does it though, making it an odd-man out.

And speaking of oddities, was I the only one that thought Reservoir Of Video Souls would end up being a DVD release? Something like BT's This Binary Universe, with little movies accompanying the music? It's right there in the title, plus the whole DVD packaging to go along with it. Heck, no lie, I assumed Fantasy Enhancing itself would feature such releases, taking the world of ambient techno into an untapped realm of modern audio-visual media. Alas, t'was not to be. Yet...

Lars Leonhard & Roman Ridder - Patterns In Nature

self-release: 2018

Hey now, don't give me that look. When I said Orange Dawn was the last of the Lars solo albums in my possession, I meant it! That did not include collaborative outings, but chronist to honest (?), this is the only one of such releases I have. Not that Mr. Leonhard has paired up often in the course of his career. There was Seasons – Les Quatre Saisons with Alvina Red on BineMusic, and the odd track here and there, but by and large, Lars does the bulk of his music making as a solo venture. So yes, no more loopholes for me to exploit in my original proclamation in covering Mr. Leonhard's output. Nope, none at all. What do you mean, you can smell clouds burning?

So the first thing I wondered over Patterns In Nature is what this Roman Ridder would add to the Leonhard stylee. Or would Mr. Ridder be the one leading the music charge with Lars in sonic support? What sort of music does Roman even make? I've never heard of him before, but there must be something in the cut of his jib if Lars was interested in working with him. Would I be able to pick out any songcraft traits? Gosh, I hope so! I've consumed so much of Lars' music that his sound is instantly recognizable to my ears. Any deviation from a contributing musician should stand out.

And there's definitely that in opener Prismatic. Like, holy cow, those sweeping pads! It's not like Lars has shied away from melody, but he's typically on a subtle tip when it comes to its deployment. Not so in this track, spacious spacey synths front and centre as they ride along a dubby techno groove. Simply lush. So is this the Roman Ridder stylee, big spacey ambient or prog-psy that wouldn't sound out of place on Altar Records? Let me check out some of his other stuff!

*checks out some of his other stuff*

Ah, hm, okay, apparently Mr. Ridder doesn't have much other stuff for me to check out, a handful of self-released albums and singles to his Discoggian name (ooh, is that an ode to The Planets I see?). And of what samples I hear, gosh does this ever sound like Lars. Maybe a little more melodic and upbeat, but generally in the same downtempo dub techno lane. I probably would have assumed it Mr. Leonhard's work with a blind test.

Going deeper into Patterns In Nature, the melding of minds is much less apparent, the two complementing quite well. There's still more overt melodic touches compared to the typical Lars release (Strange Attractor, Spherical Symmetry), while some tracks tread into pure ambient dub drone territory (Circadian Rhythm, Penta Plexity, Fractal), but that's the extent of it.

Still, Roman's extra melodic-dub touches do lend more warmth to the usual Leonhard fare. Patterns In Nature wouldn't sound out of place on Silent Season, is what I'm sayin'.

Sphäre Sechs - Particle Void

Cryo Chamber: 2018

Seems I'm once again on a little space theme run with the current clutch of reviews, which wouldn't be complete without the good ol' dark ambient contingent cropping up for their say. You can't talk space music without bringing up the potential bleakness of it all. Yeah, it's nice to be awestruck by nebulae beauty and mesmerized by astrophysics ballet, but there's a whole lot of nothing out there too. Empty, soul-crushing desolation, wondrous worlds impossibly far and distant, such that there's no hope of ever seeing them up close and personal. Never mind even attempting to get there would involve navigating among molecule-shredding radiation and Cthulhu knows what in the form of exotica erupting from mega death black holes. No hope, no hope at all.

Sphäre Sechs is the work of two chaps, Martin Stürtzer and Christian Stritzel (sounds like a German comedy duo). Martin has been quite active in dark ambient circles for a decade and a half now, primarily releasing material under the alias of Phelios. Much of it is of the droning sort, with occasional modern classical flourishes here and there, of various themes and ideas explored. More recently he's been releasing material under his own name under his own Echo Elberfeld label. Ooh, I spy something called The Omarion Nebula (only DS9 dorks will get that).

Mr. Stritzel has far less Discoggian presence, only appearing in collaboration with Mr. Stürtzer, a modified Theremin his primary 'instrument' in the group. The duo goes as far back as 2007's Klang Ist Ewig, but half a decade later, they adopted the Sphäre Sechs project handle, releasing Tiefschlaf on Malignant Records. Fast forward a little later, and they've brought their cosmic soundscapes to Cryo Chamber, debuting on the label with this here Particle Void. Tale as old as time.

As an album, Particle Void is straight-forward enough. Eight tracks, most hovering in the five-to-six minute range, offering varying tones of drone while holding a general mood of cosmic emptiness. While a low thrum is maintained throughout each piece, droning sounds and pads ebb and flow as though in a trance-inducing meditative breath. Sometimes there's a sense of awe in the surroundings, as in Multiverse and Transference. Other times abject fear, as though bearing witness to it all is simply too much for the human brain to handle (Temporal Transition, Achernar). And gosh, is that a touch of the melancholy I hear in Cepheid? Sadness at forever being trapped in our corporeal forms, unable to traverse into theoretical inter-dimensional portals without our atoms getting speghettified across the cosmos? Or maybe that's what's going on in final track Radiation Phase, a slowly building drone piece that includes the subtlest of rhythmic pulses.

By the way, where's the Theremin? I don't hear anything on this album that reminds me of pulpy sci-fi of the '50s. Is Christian's manipulations of the quirky electronic instrument so extreme that it sound alien to that which we know? Seems about right for an album like this.

Buttertones - Midnight In A Moonless Dream

Innovative Leisure Records: 2018

There's no dodging this, so I'll just get it out of the way: as of two months ago, this band was #metoo'd. Not all the members, just a couple, being outed as womanizing creeps, one in particular having a preference for those who weren't even legal age of consent. I only found out about this as I started my preliminary research right after my last review. I never knew about this when I got this album over a year ago. Almost no one knew, the allegations and confirmed shared stories getting aired out just this summer. The fall of Buttertones was swift and complete, however, their social media presence utterly scrubbed from the internet, their label dropping them like a ten tonne rock, the remaining band members forced to scuttle the project. A token 'all future album purchases goes towards women help charities' is the only thing keeping their Bandcamp page afloat.

Obviously, that puts a huge damper on whatever thoughts and opinions I had going into Midnight In A Moonless Dream. All the mental notes I'd gathered seem inconsequential and pointless now. Talking about how my explorations of 'surf rock' bands straying so far off the beaten path, that I'm listening to a band that sounds more like a cabaret quintet than a group for beach bums. Wow, what a wonderful discovery (thanks, Bandcamp newsletter)! What does that matter when it's giving abusive assholes attention though? The music's great, fantastic even, but I feel ultra-icky praising it.

The ol' 'separating art from artist' topic naturally comes up, which everyone has their own take on. While some are absolute in their perspectives, I'm a little more flexible, in a 'time plus distance' sort of way. The further you get from certain art being created during which its artist was being an asshole, the easier it is to separate the two, especially if said artist no longer benefits from the art they created (dying helps). Again, this is no hard or fast rule, but it does allow me to enjoy things like Michael Jackson's Thriller or the symphonic suites of Koichi Sugiyama with peace of mind. Some things are almost impossible to let go though, like watching a Chris Benoit wrestling match – no matter how 'lost in the moment' I can get with bouts two decades old, that knowledge of him murder-suiciding his family forever looms overhead.

I honestly feel fortunate that the bulk of my musical interests haven't been revealed as individuals deserving of cancellation, selfish though that sounds. I'm sure there are a few with skeletons in their closet that could still be unearthed, but hopefully nothing to the extent as has been going on with other producers in recent years, especially in the local festival scene. Buttertones? No great loss on my part, as they were a band I only came across by happenstance. I may be able to play this album again with time and distance, but as of now... yeah.

Doom Poets - Lost Connection

Tech Itch Recordings: 2018

Another Tech Itch Recordings artist with absolutely no information surrounding them. Like, at least Voyage had a photo available within Lord Discogs' archives. These here Doom Poets don't even have that. Okay, there is a tiny blurb within this album's inlay, but I'm not entirely sure it's on the up and up. Do you believe they're distant beings from the far regions of the cosmos, transmitting their first recordings to us inhabitants of the third rock from Sol? Could really use some photographic evidence these beings are legit.

Actually, the rumour goes these may be old associates of Technical Itch himself (maybe himself?) but also chose the path of anonymous purity in releasing music on Mr. Caro's print. In fact, this is an entire manifesto by several folks coming into the Tech Itch fold, releases from others like Brakken and Freed From The Lair also choosing to remain hidden behind project aliases. So a bunch of that theory I blagged on about in the Genesis review (no, the other one; no, the most recent one) is true! That hasn't stopped a few producers with a few details in their Discoggian bios from joining the blanked-face party, and there will always be the main man of the label around too. Just fascinating that, in the half decade since embarking on this project, these chosen few have maintained their mystery manifesto.

So while I generally liked Voyage's album, I cannot deny it being a little one-note overall, serving up brash darkstep from the drop and hardly relenting throughout. Doom Poets opt for something a little more conceptual, breaking Lost Connection up into several segments interspersed with Drone Scans. Ah cool, you think, ambient doodle interludes to break up the monotony. Except, these are far from 'doodles', each lasting between three-to-four minutes in length, fully formed tracks in of themselves, if you'd consider dronescapes with an intermittent thudding beat a track. Given how they're evenly spaced out too, it makes me wonder whether Lost Connection had a vinyl roll-out in mind, each Drone Scan the start of a record side. Alas, no vinyl roll-out, at least not yet. Maybe if the follow-up album Dead Forest moves enough units?

Not to say Doom Poets are some 'dolphin jungle' producers – we are still dealing with Tech Itch Recordings here. Proper opener MFOS is just as big, brash, and menacing as darkstep can get. That's followed by Agony though, a minimalist, feral tech-step workout, then Brighter Days, a pure Amen break workout with moody atmospherics in support. After a Drone Scan, we get a couple more sinister sci-fi darkstep tracks, Drone Scan, and you're sensing a pattern now, right?

This all works in Lost Connection's favour though. A long-player with unrelenting aggression needs its breathers for the hardest hitters to keep hitting hard. Even the moodier pieces like Ruby Eyes and The Triengle can feel oppressive with the overwhelming low-ends. You want d'n'b from the darkest corners of the galaxy, you got it.

Ugasanie - Ice Breath Of Antarctica

Cryo Chamber: 2018

I won't deny having some favouritism towards icy-cool looking cover art, but it's generally spread out among my other albums so it doesn't become a running theme. This is the third album out of the last four to go wintry though, enough that I'm sure some folks are wondering if something more than biased interest is going on. Heck, it could have been the fourth, but I held off on grabbing Ensiferum's From Afar – have enough Viking metal for now, thanks.

It wouldn't be so bad if we were going through a typical summer, with the heat and the drought and the forest fires and all. Some parts of North America are getting that as usual, yeah, but not in my neck of the rain forests. It's been comically dark and grey these past couple months, some of the wettest on record, with humidity you can practically swim in. Not that I want a return to the years of beige lawns and a constant layer of acrid haze in the air, but nor this far extreme the other way. Just enough that listening to a whole pile of CDs with frozen landscapes as the cover art is a soothing escape, not a reminder of miserable weather.

Actually, even in those ideal conditions, I'd hardly call Ice Breath Of Antarctica a 'soothing escape'. In traditional Ugasanie manner, we're taken to a realm of utter desolation, where no sane human being should wish to tread. In theory at least, but the south polar region has its share of tourists eagre to see penguins and southern elephant seals and... um, other fauna local to the ice caps while they last. Only during the summer months though. And preferably when there's ideal weather. While in the company of others, so as not to get lost roaming about. Pretty much the exact opposite of the conditions Ugasanie presents to us in this album, is what I'm getting at.

While Pavel has been Cryo Chamber's go-to guy for all things frozen over, his albums still typically have specific themes in mind. Explorations of abandoned Siberian science stations, the mental state of being overcome by the northern lights, and so on. No such 'journey' happens in Ice Breath Of Antarctica, unless you count being consumed in the absolute worst conditions you could possibly endure while venturing there. Second track Shores Of Antarctica is basically five minutes of bellowing winds whipping your face with freezing sleet before settling into the sort of empty, minimalist drone that's long been this label's breaded butter. You are alone in desolation, absolutely alone. Not even a stray penguin in sight.

The whole album basically plays out like that, unrelenting in consuming you within the polar continent's harsh climate. Some tracks feature sounds of being emersed within slow-moving ice, others offer a brief respite with quiet, reflective harmonies carried along the wind. Almost as if Ugasanie is asking, “well, what did you expect of the lands even The Thing couldn't survive in?”

Saitoh Tomohiro - Drawing Line And The Curve

Databloem: 2018

So remember when I bought a big ol' Databloem bundle, and spent the better part of last year (or two) getting through it all? Turns out I missed one! I know I've done this before, but it still boggles my mind that I can accidentally skip some CDs in my orderly queue, getting lost among all the other piles I let build up. What, I could just not buy numerous items until I'm all caught up? Balderdash, no one has such will-power, I tell you. No one! Even the sagest of Bhudda monks would be all like, “Damn, I gotta' get me that latest Fantasy Enhancing CD before the limited 100 run out!” Scarcity is a remarkable motivator.

I can't be entirely to blame for this one getting lost in the shuffle. I know nothing of Saitoh Tomohiro, so an album from the man wasn't high on my 'must hear' priorities. Plus, the cover art is part of Databloem's unassuming 'colour smear' period. I actually bought all the early CDs of this pseudo-series, but the others came in colours that always catch my eye (primarily blue), whereas red... eh, just doesn't resonate as much with me. So while Kaleidos, Upwelling: Emergence and Atlantic Fusion (Simple Songs too, kinda') easily stuck out and couldn't slip by if they tried, Drawing Line And The Curve didn't. Grammatically odd title wasn't helpful either.

And even if I had done some research digging before buying, Lord Discogs wouldn't have been terribly helpful with Saitoh Tomohiro. His most prominent work is as one-half of Colbets, who released five albums over five labels within a (approximately) five year span. Only one of these albums, Far Away From The Light, saw anything resembling a proper release (on Japanese ambient dub techno print AY; bvdub has appeared there). This here Databloem debut is his solo debut period, with practically no inlay or PR blurb detailing what his deal is. Sure making this a hard sell, lads.

But hey, Drawing Line And The Curves is quite nice, far as ambient is concerned – would you expect anything less from Databloem? While there is some of that Japanese 'tonal harmony with sporadic glitch' thing going on here, this is mostly a straight-forward outing in the genre, with the layered synth pads, varied gentle tones, droning soundscapes, and the like. There's a general theme of 'twilight atmosphere' throughout, whether losing oneself in foggy forests or city stargazing, and plays out in a rather traditional sort of way, with shorter pieces interspersed with longer ones, though nothing ever breaching the ten-minute mark.

Then, you notice something odd. One of these pieces seems to be going on longer than you thought it would. It's like it never ends, and you can't help but take notice how much in stark contrast it stands with everything else. Then you check the liner notes, and see the final piece lasts nearly twenty minutes, titled Day Will Break Soon. Given the theme of the rest of the album, that's apt.

Atrium Carceri - Codex

Cryo Chamber: 2018

It's been a while since we returned to the on-going story Simon Heath is telling with his Atrium Carceri project. Maybe not as long as the Sabled Sun side-project, but that one did have a sense of finality to it with 2148. Heck, I'd argue it could have ended perfectly with the debut 2145, but that's neither here nor there. What's fascinating about A.C., however, is the fact Codex marks only the third mainline album under that banner since Mr. Heath set up Cryo Chamber. Plenty of collaborative works and joint concept works, absolutely, but to this point, only The Untold, Metropolis, and Codex have been solo works on the label. Does this mean the collaborative ones tie into the mainline narrative at all? Miles To Midnight sure doesn't seem to.

Thus these solo Atrium Carceri works are treated with a fair bit of awe and anticipation, exciting new chapters in whatever ongoing narrative there actually is between the three albums. Simon spared no expense in celebrating the third in the current-trilogy (two years later, still no fourth album), giving Codex the same lavish hardcover casing and picturesque booklet as some of those Cryo Chamber Collaboration releases. It's only appropriate to go whole hog on the package considering this is the label's one-hundredth release.

And we pick up right where we left off in The Void, that vintage all-encompassing cinematic dark ambient stylee Atrium Carceri built an empire upon. The mood is sombre, the atmosphere suffocating, the organs dominating, and your headspace transported to whatever bleak, uncompromising fallen society Mr. Heath has envisioned for us. A couple examples of choking drone follow, then Codex takes a surprising turn for the ...calm and blissful? Wait, what?

True, we've heard sombre piano pieces from Simon before, typically as contrast to whatever menace lurks in the surrounding tracks, but A Memory Lost remains shockingly lovely considering the lead-up. It's followed upon by The Empty Chapel however, with choir and ethereal pads that is almost angelic in presentation. Fits the theme of the track, I suppose, but can't say I've ever heard anything quite so pure ambient as this from this label (I've missed a fair bit in recent years, mind).

We go back to the foreboding cinematic drone after this, Mr. Heath taking us on another journey through old world domains, but its not so harrowing as works past. It's as though he wants us to be more in awe and worshipful of what we imagine than come away intimidated. But before you know it, Codex is wrapping up, another little piano piece in A Hunger Too Deep followed upon by a suitable denouement to the journey in The Citadel.

Gosh, that was rather a brisk listening experience. Felt like things were still warming up before coming to an end. Considering the anticipation, roll-out, and subsequent elapsed time since, I can't help but feel a tad let down by Codex's relative briefness. This dark ambient hunger don't sate itself.

Airwaves - Biomechanical

Carpe Sonum Records: 2018

The spiritual successor to Fax+ has been on a heck of a run these past few years, such that I grow ever more flustered with each passing newsletter of their releases. It's sadly been nearly two years since I've picked anything up from them, and it's not for a lack of interest, believe you me (so many 'blue covers'... just, so many...). They've simply grown more than I'm sure anyone could have predicted, but since their run of CDs aren't as limited as similar labels go, there's a sense of biding time with Carpe Sonum. Dabble here and there, particularly with artists you're not always familiar with but features striking cover art. Ah, this Biomechanical looks intriguingly unique, why not that?

Thing with Carpe Sonum is I generally have a good inkling of what I'm going to get with them, typically ambient and ambient techno with a '90s feel for it. Imagine my surprise, then, when listening to this CD for the first time, it went ultra-retro, all the way back to the '70s! Not that I hadn't heard such stylistic dalliances from the label before, and honestly, it's not like ambient as a genre is so specific to decades as other electronic music is. Still, you can just tell when some pieces have influence from earlier eras than others. It's all in the gear used, m'man, and the chap behind Airwaves, he was a connoisseur of vintage gear indeed.

Right, Airwaves, or Oscar Menzel, as inscribed on his obituary. He passed away earlier the previous decade, but left quite the impact upon the Mexican ambient scene, in that anyone was even aware it existed at all. He released two albums as Airwaves way back when, which naturally are super-rare. Additionally, they were on Opción Sónica, an L.A. based, Mexican-focused outlet that didn't last into the new millennium, specializing the harder side of rock and EBM, placing Airwaves well outside the label's usual fare. Basically all odds dictated Airwaves should have been hopelessly buried in obscurity, yet some folks did discover him. Then his music generated enough positive buzz that Carpe Sonum somehow unearthed more unreleased material from the Menzel estate, two album's worth, in fact (as I was gathering pre-notes for Biomechanical, Carpe Sonum released Multiverse... I did not plan this!). I feel like this chain of events could only have happened in the modern era, what with archival websites like Discogs letting super-diggers know of Mexican ambient composers releasing music on '90s industrial labels and all.

I also feel kind of bad in thinking the story behind Airwaves is more interesting than the music on Biomechanical. It's decent enough as an assortment of pieces feeding off that vintage Tangerine Dream vibe, with a lean towards the New Age side of things. Aside from a couple tracks that sounds like it should be in a direct-to-VHS horror movie, it's all rather pleasant and nice stuff. The adherence to vintage gear does give it all a dated feel though, even with a spiffy modern mastering job.