Gabriel Le Mar - Shared Fictions

Carpe Sonum Novum: 2020

I've passively mentioned the need to dig deeper into Gabriel le Mar for years now, so it's about time to properly poop in that pot (or however that saying goes). What CDs to get, though? Something off the defunct Spirit Zone Recordings? That undoubtedly rare Reel Time (because anything off Elektrolux is rare at this point)? The most eye-popping item from his Capre Sonum Novum catalogue? Oh, but Flashin' On is already sold-out, darn it all.

That... is actually happening more frequently with Carpe Sonum, come to think of it. Even newer items, like Dr. Atmo's To You, Humanity, and Sven Kössler's Bck T• Lvng, run out swiftly. To say nothing of whatever edition of that Pete Namlook tribute box-set Die Welt Ist Klang is up to now. Man, and here Carpe Sonum was, that ambient techno label you could count on not running out of their limited-run CD stock.

Anyhow, I settled on Shared Fictions, for two reasons. One, it was the most recent item from Mr. le Mar when I happened by the Bandcamp shop – not much more scientific than that, my friends. Still, the fact it was a double-LP made the deal a little bit sweeter. Sure, the second CD is another of Gabriel's 'stripped' sessions, providing beatless versions of tracks off the album proper, but that's a gimmick I'm game for another round after hearing it on his first Stripped release.

The PR blurb has Mr. le Mar claiming inspiration from the fantastical literature and stories of human history, which he wished to express through... only eight tracks? Huh, well, there's something to be said for being concise. Still, though there are some elements of such within the titles (Stay In Wonderland, World Tree, Mythical Past, etc.), I can't really say the same for the music on hand. By and large, this is a collection of tight, groovy psy-dub tunes, with little in the way of post-Shpongle influenced waffle. Sometimes the acid gets a good workout (Deep Focus, Collective Dreamworld), elsewhere Gabriel works in a little guitar jamming, and gosh, that bass playing in City Of Thoughts sure seems familiar. Wait a moment... *checks liner notes* Okay, it's not him. Didn't think so, as the bass tone didn't quite match. Can't blame me for thinking ol' Laswell might have been hanging about for a session though, as this tune really does sound like one of his.

So even if the theme of Shared Fictions seems muddled, the psy-dub on hand is dope enough to not worry about it. How does the bonus disc fare, then? It's certainly a different vibe, and not just because the lack of propulsive rhythms. Tracks are rearranged so they flow more like a downbeat album compared to Shared Fictions Prime, and it's not like they're totally absent of groove either. You just have less things going on, letting you focus on specific details over a grand picture. It's like watching the subbed version of a foreign film.

Shuta Yasukochi & Carlos Ferreira - Quiet Reminders

Archives: 2020

A simple little release, this. Two tracks, both about fourteen and a half minutes long, and two remixes, averaging nine minutes between them. I suppose that barely constitutes this being an album proper, reaching over forty minutes in total. Still feels rather skint though, like there could have been more ideas explored over the course of its run time. So it goes with ambient, I guess.

The artists behind this album are Shuta Yasukochi, Japanese, and Carlos Ferreira, Brazilian. This is not as odd a combination of ethnicity as you'd think, Brazil having the second largest population of Japanese heritage in the world. Some hundred years ago, there was a large influx of immigration there, mostly to work coffee plantations and other agricultural enterprises. A big reason for this was the United States massively reducing the amount of Japanese immigrants within their borders, and with Japan still trying to find its way out of its post-feudal era, many went to Brazil for a better chance at life. I guess it worked out well enough, seeing as how a few million souls remains there to this day. Whether this has anything to do with Carlos and Shuta meeting each other to collaborate, I haven't a clue, but hey, always fun to divert this music blog into a history blog, right?

Both had been active making music since at least the mid-'10s, growing decent Soundcloud profiles in that time. Shuta even got his first album out on Archives half a decade ago, while Carlos was working with other artists, including some psychedelic rock thing called Ansiedaed, including a song called Drabula. It's not indicative of what he's making with Shuta.

Still, he does put his guitar skills to some use with first track Floating, even if it's just the gentlest of electric strumming. Not even strumming really, more like soft plucking, with a little effects pedal providing subtle delay. Meanwhile, Shuta provides the soft, droning synth pads, the higher layers of timbre imparting a feeling of, well, floating, like wispy clouds caressing alpine peaks. Yes, thank you, Archives, for once again giving an album the most perfect piece of cover art. Naturally, it's a piece that's not in any hurry to move along, but the lighter synths do grow steadily more pronounced as it plays out.

By contrast, An Endless Dream goes atonal, very little about it as harmonious as Floating. The drones are quite subdued, there's a layer of quiet, dubby field recordings churning in the background, and the sparsest of idiophonic instruments offer what little melody Shuta and Carlos are willing to give. I kinda' zone out on this one.

The two remixes come care of Hilyard and Archives-head Agustín, under his Warmth guise (of course). Hilyard turns Floating into more of a standard shoegazey ambient outing, but holy...! Warmth goes about as close to dark ambient drone as I think I've ever heard from this label. Now I want to check out that Darkest Place album from him.

Devroka - Processor Overlord

Intellitronic Bubble: 2020

Boy, it's been a spell since I talked up this label, eh? I've a whole pile of material from them sitting in my queue, but because of that niggling, OCD, alphabetical sorting of mine, most of them have been languishing in the “#”s. Yeah, there's properly titled albums as well, but as it so often goes, many of them hang out in the “S” group, or the “W” gang. These things take time attending to, especially when, in the meanwhile, one buys up a few full discographies of other artists.

Intellitronic Bubble mostly started out as a typical techno label, releasing EPs, with compilations plucking the highlights along the way. It wasn't long before they dipped into the albums market though, Norken & _Nyquist leading the charge (because of course Lee would). Tradition dictates a slew of other albums from artists of similar ilk would come next, but I.B., they did something a little funky in doing so: releasing paired-albums! As in, each release would, in fact, be two, bundled together. Certainly a different way of doing things, but hey, I'm game, unable to resist getting more bosh for my buck. Ironically, the album I'm reviewing today is from a bundle I didn't spring for, as its paired LP is a re-issue of Skua Atlantic's Atlantic Fusion, a CD I already have. There's a story for this being the case, but eh, you're here to read about music, not my music buying adventures.

So Devroka. I knew nothing about this artist going in, which is always fun for those critical first impression. And said impressions are... holy shit, this is some retro electro! Pure robot body muzik, but, like, second wave, when Anthony Rother and Boris Divider were reviving the genre for the new millennium. The broken beats, the menacing digital atmosphere, the vocoder voice rapping about vector grids and cybernetic wars. I know Intellitronic Bubble dabbles as much with electro as it does Detroit techno and funky IDM, but I never expected something so distilled and pure from them either.

And it gets even wilder, as the man behind Devroka is none other than Devin Underwood. You might remember him from such reviewed projects as Gapfield and Specta Ciera. Yeah, one of those ambient guys! I've heard hints of his muse drifting in sci-fi directions, but never would I have imagined he had a full-blown robot revolution work within him. Then again Anthony Rother also appeared on Fax+, so maybe there's more crossover among electro and ambient guys than I was led to believe.

Anyhow, as cool as it is hearing electro of this sort, Processor Overlord is kinda' one-note as an album experience. There's some variety - Alleyway goes more technobass, Reverse Thruster more laid-back, Blockade less menacing, Vector Skyline way chill – but the electro aesthetic dominates throughout. I guess that makes sense when you have 'overlord' in your album title. You will get down to these sounds, even if you have the grace of a cyber-giraffe.

Fluxion - Perspectives

Vibrant Music: 2020

Fluxion is another artist I feel I should have crossed paths with more often, but once again, Lord Discogs tells me that's not the case. Maybe it's because I've seen the name Flux Pavilion 'round these here parts for so many years, the name kinda' mushed into 'Fluxion' within my brain. Or perhaps it's immediacy bias cropping up, as I just listened to an album from Simon Posford with the word “Flux” in its title.

On the other hand, why haven't I seen Mr. Soublis' project more often? Dude was among the early dub techno names, getting his break on Basic Channel's Chain Reaction print. He'd later go on to release multiple singles and albums, some through his own Vibrant Music, others on that other Very Important dub techno label, Echocord. Yet if Discogs is anything to go by, his compilation and official DJ mix appearances remain slight, a track here and a tune there about all I see. There may be more that the Ogger community is simply unfamiliar with (!!), but for all intents, it seems Fluxion's name hasn't made that much of an impact beyond the dub techno faithful.

Which has little to do with me, to be honest. As is often the case, Perspectives was another blind buy from the Ultimae shop, that recollection of a name that I clearly had no actual recognition of drawing me in. And hey, a soggy side-street within claustrophobic urban architecture, stretching beyond the photo's parallax, that's enough to pique my interest with this release.

Opener Schism is promising, a gentle ambient piece with graceful reverb and dubby hiss invoking those vintage Burial feels, just without all the vinyl crackle and guns clacking. Follow-up Formation gets the groove going, also about as vintage as most dub techno goes in most eras, but with a nice little melodic through-line – yeah, I can hear why modern Ultimae would hawk this album in their shop. Further along, whopping thirteen-minute Glimpses and 'shorter' nine-minute Glimpses II provide nice, hypnotic journeys with looping rhythmic dub and gently evolving melancholic melodies. Trance, you say? Well, maybe that 'neo' branch, if The Field had gotten more influence from classic Swayzak.

Beyond those tracks though, Perspectives mostly dwells on the jazzier side of dub techno ...kinda'. Fluxion's tried-and-tested genre attributes remain the dominate force in his production, but is never so stiff and cold as this style typically goes, allowing a little emotion and soul within. Tracks like Within, Dawn, Down The Line, and Distance feature more shuffly rhythms with jammy instruments, lending almost an urban-jazz vibe to these digital atmospheres. Even a track like Cliff, with its dub techno pulse similar to Glimpses, comes paired with gentle strings befitting an uplifting moment in a noir film. Has Fluxion always been like this, or are these sounds unique to this particular album? Guess I should check out the rest of his discography to find out. I mean, anything repped on Echocord can't be half bad, right?

Natural Life Essence - Organic Adventures

Neotantra: 2020

Ah, finally, an ambient artist debuting on Neotantra that isn't hopelessly obscure. Well, okay, Natural Life Essence probably is hopelessly obscure to a lot of folks out there, maybe even among ambient fans, but unlike some of the others I've covered from this label, he has a rather robust discography under his belt. One Juan Pablo Giacovino, the Argentinian local has been releasing music for close to a decade now, initially getting his start on German based CYAN, sharing digital domain with the likes of New Age Hippies, Musik Magier, The Mixing Chef, Fortadelis, Jaja (3), and Smooth (8). Perhaps more noteworthy is a short stint with psy label Ovnimoon Records, a lone EP and remix album to his name there.

That's just what Lord Discogs tells me he's done though. Follow a link to his Bandcamp page, however, and holy cow! Chap's been a busy lad, to say the least. To be fair, his Liquid Frog Records print isn't just all him, sharing projects with names like Kiphi, Yahgan, and Spiritual Fields. Still, there's a lot to check out there, all of it looking mighty tempting for a splurge. Space ambient, polar ambient, naturalistic ambient, meditative ambient, abstract ambient, long form ambient... just, so much ambient. What would I even begin to choose from this selection? What, buy the whole catalogue? Don't be daft, the whole thing is eighty-six items! It'd be ludicrous of me to just blind-buy that large of a Bandcamp page and I've already gone and done it, haven't I? *sigh* Well, I guess I needed something to keep generating content for this blog next year.

Anyhow, back to Juan's debut on Neotantra, Organic Adventures. Far as I can tell, three of the self-titled tracks come from an earlier release of N:L:E's, Organic Adventures (Those Other Lands). Which isn't all that uncommon when it comes to Neotantra releases, often serving as much a re-issue print for releases long forgotten or ultra-obscure. 1, 3 and 4 (Part II) are all quite lovely in that slightly psy-chill sort of way, never getting over-indulgent with effects and gimmickry, keeping things just melodic enough to hook you in while tones and drones drift along. Organic Adventures 8, which far as I can tell is an original for this release, is a slightly different outing, gentle washes of white noise dub effects and spoken dialog lending more of a spaced-out vibe.

And speaking of fresh music for a label debut, the first two tracks also appear new, and honestly kinda' clash with the original Organic Adventures sessions. Opener Polinizaton runs a lengthy twenty-one minutes, and is more of a shoegazey dronescape with field recordings of chirping birds. It's quite nice too, very relaxing, kinda' reminiscent of a Slaapwel Records session, and- oh, God! Why did those gentle pads suddenly cut out like that? Talk about sonic whiplash. Liberation (Flying Free) follows in similar fashion, though more emphasis on building upon an uplifting synth pad melody. No sudden cut-off? Now that's an Ace Track!

Encym - Music For Meditation

Neotantra: 2020

Yep, another Neotantra release. Just how many more of these do I have? Not many, though there is a whole box-set lurking further down the queue, so y'all have that to look forward to. Honestly though, I haven't gotten anything new from the label in over a year now, mostly because much of their recent output has been re-issues of Lee Norris back-catalogue. It's honestly a bit weird seeing items like Spacebound and In The Silence Of The Subconscious now on Neotantra, having long ago gathered them on other labels like ...txt and Carpe Sonum Records. Some things like Autumn Of Communion and Understanding Holy Ghosts re-appearing on Fantasy Enhancing, I get, but why not Alien or Abandoned Communities or The Longing Daylight? I'm sure there's a method to Mr. Norris' selection process, but bully me if I can figure it.

Anyhow, Encym. As is too often the case with these Neotantra releases, this artist is a total blank within the Discoggian archives. Music For Meditation is his lone album, though has made numerous compilation appearances in recent years, including plenty on Neotantra's various Tʌntrə compilations (which I never indulge in because each volume drops so-o-o-o- much music that I really, really, really fear having to write reviews on). Basically, one working his way from the minor leagues, finally getting his chance on the main-bench rotation. Sorry, this sports analogy sucks, but 'tis the season where all the sports be sportsing.

Anyhow, Mr. Encym does have a Bandcamp, where a whole bunch more music can be found, with links to all other manner of social media. He self-describes as an ambient jazz bass player, which may have your Bill Laswell triggers flaring, but that's alright. Listening to Music For Meditation, I can totally hear some Laswellian influences and connections. Though really, one could toss a rock in Bill's direction and land on any number of musical associations, his sonic reach as vast as it is.

Let me straight up say not everything on here is 'meditation worthy'. Pieces like Imbued, Quietude, and Traffic Kng feature some rather harsh tones and over-cranked dub effects, not exactly the sort of music best suited for relaxing For sure they're interesting sonic experiments to listen to – if anything, Encym knows how to engage the listener in his freeform music making, especially with a good set of headphones on your head (*cough*). At no point was I bored by what I was hearing, enjoying the variety, even if some portions came off more confrontational than others.

That said, there are some lovely pieces of ambient dub and bass tone drone throughout this album. The titular cut is pure minimalist calm, New River and The Wakening Of The Sky are almost playful in its ebb and throes of layered dub pads, while London Departures is the sort of tranquil ambient drone that makes perfect sense watching the sun slowly rise over rolling country-side hills. From within a moving vehicle, that is.

Warmth - Life

Archives: 2020

It's only appropriate the first artist album I'm covering from Archives is from Agustín Mena. Between this print and its sister one, Faint, the chap has released somewhere in the ballpark of twenty items in the past half decade, with no slowing down in sight. Granted, as the Archives headmaster, it's only natural he'd be publishing his works through them. And hey, if a pile of other artists want to join in on the fun, there's plenty of room in the digital realm. Too much, I sometimes feel. Believe me, the urge to splurge is real, but fortunately I'm too broke right now to do so.

Warmth may seem like a rather generic, bland alias for a project, but when you hear Mr. Mena's style of ambient drone, it's an incredibly apt description. Like many modern ambient composers, he has some lineage in the realm of dub techno, so shares some sonic similarities with the Silent Season continuum. Rather early on though, Agustín ditched the beats and went full-on drone, and has mostly remained there ever since.

Now, I know what you're thinking (my FitBit links me directly into your cerebellum.. oops, shouldn't have typed that out loud!): “Great, just another ambient drone artist among the hundreds to thousands already out there. Why should I bother with this one?” And I says to you, I says, I do: “BECAUSE!! It's just that damn good!”

We all know I go through a lot of ambient music. Like, a lot. Much of it, I generally enjoy, but rarely has the genre provided something that immediately grabs me and won't let go for an instant. Warmth is such an artist that accomplishes this. Right from the start on this particular album titled Life, opener Breathe lays in spacious field recordings, soft analogue fuzz, and a gently caressing melody of airy synth pads and decaying tones. So simple, yet so good!

Follow-up Safe continues with the field recordings ambience, some of which sounds like the rustling of leaves in the wind, focusing more on the layers of sonic timbre, while You're Not Here features a melancholic melody that reminds me of 36. Well, such as you can hear it, performed impossibly quiet and muffled through all manner of fuzz. Life mostly plays out in similar fashion, some tracks going more mysterious (Passage, The Mourning, Leaving), others more melodic (Roads, the titular cut). About the only real quibble I have is the whole LP runs rather short at only thirty-five minutes long, but hey, at least Warmth doesn't needlessly noodle along either.

I suppose you could also say there isn't that much difference between each piece, almost to the point Life could play out as one long composition. I honestly thought that might have been the initial intent, as the pauses between tracks on the CD seemed a little off. I then noticed there is a continuous mix version, but the pauses are there as well. Huh, not so continuous as we were led to believe.

Specta Ciera - Last Light

Neotantra: 2020

There's no logical reason I should feel surprised at seeing a Specta Ciera album on Neotantra. It's not like Devin Underwood has kept his project exclusive to any particular label. Indeed, he's shopped it around many over the past decade (Earth Mantra, Flaming Pines, Energostatic Records, Distance Recordings, basic_sounds). In more recent years, he has appeared on what I consider the more 'elite' ambient techno labels out there (Carpe Sonum Records, Databloem, Fantasy Enhancing), so it only makes sense that he'd get a crack at Neotantra too.

Yet I still can't shake the notion of Specta Ciera being a dataObscura exclusive. He's released three album there, two of which were collaborations with dataObscura head Anthony Kerby (The Circular Ruins, Nunc Stans). That does leave an impression of an artist a bit loyal to a specific print. Then again, if Neotantra really is the label where artists go to truly get their creative indulgences on, I'm sure Mr. Underwood could leap at the chance at contributing to its catalogue, especially after working as a collaborator for so many years prior (also including Arbee, and Jacob Newman as Gapfield... *whew*, has this ever been a name-drop session).

Unlike some (okay, many) Neotantra albums I've covered, Last Light does appear to have a specific theme in mind. Track titles impart a chronology of deep space exploration, leaving whatever orbit the listener was stationed at before eventually succumbing to the cryo sleep required of interstellar, time-dilating, sanity-sapping cosmic travel.

Despite the name, opener Escape Velocity isn't some high-octane space synth adventure (because obviously ...and Dynatron already did that anyway), but rather a gentle trip of treated string samples and harmonic tones. Follow-ups Soft Glow and LED Circuits paints more of a portrait of life on this starship, chipper synths and twinkling melodies creating quite the atmosphere of charm and whimsy. Wait, did we suddenly turn into a children's movie, with cute muppets on board? Rather reminds me of Hearts Of Space's more upbeat moments.

While the fanciful vibe does maintain throughout Last Light, there is a sense of slowdown as the album carries on. Tracks tend to grow more minimalist as things progress, some pieces even inching just a bit into ominous and mysterious (Time Bending, Memory Freeze). Nothing grows discordant though, Devin mostly keeping things on that whimsical bent. Heck, final track Slumber practically loops back around to the chippiness of Soft Glow. Given the amount of dark ambient that suggests the 'cryo sleep' as some terrifying experience losing one's sense of self, this one instead has me imagining the sleeping crew cuddled snug in their chambers wearing a night cap, a GLO Friend hugged tightly in arms.

I cannot deny it's rather refreshing hearing an ambient album so unapologetically buoyant and jaunty, but it does leave Last Light a somewhat wafer-thin experience for me. Maybe that's more a reflection on my general tastes though, typically preferring deep, introspective drones and the like.

Clementz - Kretsløp

Suntrip Records: 2020

Goa was dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. Some moved onto harder sounds with psy trance, others emerged with cross-over friendly, full-on vibes. A few brought back melodic elements with prog-psy, even if it meant slowing the pace down a dozen BPM. For all intents though, the original genre as exported from the shores of India had had its day in the acid-drenched sun, electronic music's constant desire for evolution relegating it to the dustbin of history. You will therefore permit me to reiterate emphatically, that Goa was as dead as a door-nail.

But like any comic book character not named Uncle Ben or Thomas and Martha Wayne, no genre stays dead. Even if a potential audience has dwindled to bupkis, at least that audience exists. Such must have been the logic of Suntrip Records, a little Belgian print eager to resurrect goa trance even if the scene had long moved on. They even scored an early 'hit' in Khetzal's Corolle, proving interest was there for vintage goa, should anyone take a chance on it. Just dress it up in some new hotness tag for all to see, something cutting edge and hip to the kids. Got it! Neo-Goa!

Despite this new-old genre never taking off in any significant way, it persisted in the periphery of the psy scene, Suntrip Records continuously plugging along to this day. Which leads us to one of the label's more recent offerings in Clementz' Kretsløp, an album I picked up because I wanted something new out of PsyShop, and this one had the blueist cover art available.

One Hans Henrik Clementz to the Norwegian database, the chap's been making music on Soundcloud for many years now, having tunes appear on a number of compilations like The 50th Parallel, 303 Syndroms, Colors Of Goa V.3, Goa Trance Revolution 2 (Retrofuturism), and Dimensional Gateway 4 (Veil Of The Moon). His hustle finally paid off, landing a debut album with Suntrip Records consolidating a bunch of his tracks, bringing his brand of goa to more ears than ever. Well, as far as the Suntrip faithful at least.

And if you're still doubting that anyone modern could possibly sound properly retro, opening track Æ-Re-Stu immediately drops you back to the '90s. Those unmistakable Nord Lead synths powering forward, a dooc-dooc bass kick and acid squelches in support... oh man, it's 1997 again, and I've just picked up Distance To Goa 5! I don't know whether Clementz is using authentic gear or really good emulators, but you can easily imagine hearing this stuff alongside classic Prana and Astral Projection. Some tracks stick to proper goa (Inner Core, Distorted Angel, Outside This World), others go heavier on the psychedelic side of things (Big Rip, Easter Hymn, Voices Of Helium), but all remain unwavering in their dedication to sounding exactly like the days of yore'. Whether this is 'dope' or 'bunk' to you depends entirely on your feelings about that era of psy trance.

KMFDM - In Dub

Metropolis: 2020

Industrial rock and reggae dub hand in hand? It's not as daft an idea as first glance suggests. Both have roots in the realm of studio sonic experimentation, and several artists have paid nods and tributes to the other scene's taste-makers. There's even been ample examples of the two merging with winning results, Kevin Martin's The Bug probably the most obvious example, at least where this blog's concerned.

And while KMFDM made their mark in the '90s with a brand of EBM they self-described as Ultra Heavy Beat, Sascha K. wormed elements of dub in sporadic works as early as the 1989 album UAIOE. Clearly that fell by the wayside as thrashy guitars and aggro techno came to dominate the KMFDM sound, but it's never left his muse. All he needed was an opportunity to fully explore it. Eh, some global thing has made touring impossible for a while? That'll do.

Thus unlike many other 'in dub' albums out there, KMFDM's In Dub was produced completely in house, Sascha manning the console himself. While it would have been interesting to hear some radically different takes on KMFDM tunes from some of dub music's prominent producers (ooh, a Bug rub on Anarchy would hit just right, I wager), Mr. K. handles himself well enough. He's got all the standard tropes of reggae down pat – the heavy reverb on languid drums, the wobby-bobby basslines, the trumpet fills, the organ fills... and not much else, to be honest. Sure, he works in his shouty vocals, Lucia's singing, and chopped-up guitar action as featured in the original tunes he's bigging the dub up on, but doesn't push the envelope further than that. I mean, a full-on reggae dub version of KMFDM songs is plenty 'nuff envelope pushing where this band's concerned.

Alright then, which tracks are getting the In Dub treatment then? Some good ol' classics like Juke Joint Jezebel, Power, Glory, Terror, Apathy, Megalomanical? Ah, we kick off with Angst's kick-off, Light. Hmm, don't recognize Superhero, Uranus or Bumaye, but here's A Drug Against War, also from Angst. Then... uh huh... uh huh... huh. I don't recognize anything else at all. I know I've barely scratched the surface of the totality of KMFDM's catalogue, but surely more would have been included from the agreed-upon 'golden era'. What gives?

But yes, aside from the two Angst tracks, everything given a redubbing on In Dub comes from the band's post-2000 era, after En Esch and Günter Schulz had left. Despite some dozen albums being released, I'm wholly unfamiliar with this phase, and I'm not entirely sure I'm inclined to explore it much.

Which doesn't mean I don't enjoy In Dub for what it is. In fact, maybe I like it a little more, convincing myself these are mostly wholly new creations intended for this release? Mm, nah, I'm not so naive. It's a fun diversion, though you definitely need to be on that reggae dub vibe to get much out of it.

The Bug ft. Dis Fig - In Blue

Hyperdub: 2020

“New Bug, who Dis?”

Sorry, sorry, couldn't resist that one. This isn't even all that new of a Bug album anymore, though I can't help but feel it quickly went by the wayside, especially in the wake of Fire coming out the following year. It certainly isn't much like Kevin Martin's Ninja Tune releases, none of the aggro dancehall and grime raps present. If anything, In Blue has more in common with his other Hyperdub records, the Roger Robinson collaboration King Midas Sound. I'm far from the only person to make that association, though I do wonder if this album started as a King Midas Sound project before morphing into this. Kevin and Roger had taken their work into almost dark ambient pastures by this point though, so a different approach and collaborator was probably called for if Mr. Martin wanted a return to the more soulful side of his muse.

As for who Dis Fig is, she doesn't have much Discoggian data, a smattering of singles and a tape album the extent of her solo work. Known as Felicia Chen on her travel papers, she does appear to have some presence on the Soundcloud DJ circuit, with a contribution to FACT Magazine her highest profile gig. There's definitely an aggro, industrialist approach to her sound, oftentimes coupled with ethereal whispers and tense ambient interludes, keeping you on edge for when the aural assault resumes. Seems like a perfect match-up with Mr. Martin's own brand of industrial dub and dancehall grit. Oh, what's this, a global pandemic has put everyone on lockdown? With nothing better to do, seems time was about right to get that collaboration rollin'.

And if the tunnel artwork wasn't enough, first proper tune Come gets right to work in setting the tone of In Blue. Muted echoes, rumbling bass reverberating off concrete walls, an omnipresent dub wail like wind through confined industrial zones - it's all quite familiar Bug music, though rather muted and suppressed compared to his Ninja Tune outings. All the while Ms. Chen softly croons along, though only provides verses to about half the tracks, sometimes with nothing more than a dubbed-out wail piercing Kevin's grimey murk. Some tunes barely feature her at all, such as the gutter bounce of In 2 U or the diesel-train chugging of Forever. It does leave me to wonder if Dis Fig did any music production for this album. Like, The Bug's work is largely prevalent, but surely a couple of those endless echoes are more than Ms. Chen's soft vocals.

In Blue definitely is a seductive album for those who like their bass music on the ethereal side of things. It's a bit samey throughout though, as though you're travelling through an unending monochrome tunnel. Again, I'm sure that was the intent, and Bug plus Fig pull it off well. It just unfortunately kind of melts into the background after a while. Might have been better served as a couple EPs instead.

Banco de Gaia - Igizeh (20th Anniversary Edition)

Disco Gecko: 2020

I was hyped when Toby Marks started putting out 20th anniversary editions of his back-catalogue, but only for the first couple albums. As I only discovered Banco's music after the Last Train To Lhasa era, his early years had remained something of a mystery, a potential trove of unreleased alternates, versions, and remixes of tunes that don't get as much shine in modern years. By Big Men Cry though, I was consistently on the ball about Banco, so didn't miss out on much that I wasn't interested in to begin with. And to be blunt, the packages that were released for Big Men Cry and Magical Sounds... didn't look to enhance those albums beyond what I already got out of them. Thus I let them pass on by.

Igizeh's re-issue though, I was interested in this one. This album tends to get overlooked, the big-beat 'hit' How Much Reality Can You Take? overshadowing some of the best songs to ever emerge from the World Bank. Seti I remains a top class tribal opener, Obsidian a fun romp into trance's domain, while Ms. Folker's heart-wrenching go with Glove Puppet cuts like a knife through your soul. Meanwhile, though B2 and Gizeh may not be quite on part with similar tunes in Banco's catalogue, they're still solid entries into his ambient dub and epic jam lexicon. Even the 'lesser' tunes like Creme Egg, Fake It Till You Make It and Sixty Sixteen nicely round out the album experience. Yes, Igizeh has everything going for it that should have made it a Banco de Gaia classic, if not for one thing: the mixdown.

Granted, there's none of the dirty digitalness that marred You Are Here. However, it was rather muffled too, as though the microphones used to record in all these live settings simply couldn't pick up the performed music at its best. Surely a spiffy, modern, remastering of Igizeh would erase those limitations, give these songs the resonance they deserve? Well, there's more clarity in 20th Anniversary - I can pick out even more drumming than before! I still need to crank the volume a little extra though. Guess there's no getting around the quality of the source material.

But enough of that. The selling point of these anniversary editions has been the bonus content, and I was quite intrigued by what Igizeh's offered. Banco's drifting into proper band territory has made much of that music difficult to remix, likely the reason why Magical Sounds... featured mostly live versions instead. Not here though, every tune getting the remix treatment in some way. A couple I already have (ADF's go with Obsidian, Dreadzone's go on Glove Puppet, Jack Dangers' go on Reality), others are just dancier versions of the originals (Seti I, Creme Egg, Gizeh, B2). More interestingly, 100th Monkey's turns the Pink Floydy Fake It into prog-psy, while Andrew Heath radically alters Sixty Sixteen into his brand of minimalist ambient. It's like the rousing, climatic second half of the original never existed!

Morphology - Horta Proxima

FireScope: 2020

Not to say Morphology isn't a suitable fit for FireScope, but man, did their debut on the label ever come off as an odd man out. I'm not even talking musically, their melodic songcraft nicely rubbing shoulders on the print that B12 built. Still, the duo's electro purism couldn't help but clash a little with the more IDM-leaning techno of the surrounding roster. Beyond that though, I'm talking about the utterly drab, beige cover-art of Traveller. FireScope has, if nothing else, offered quite the selection of fantastical sci-fi aesthetics, eye grabbing artwork that one can easily get lost in as the retro-future rhythms emanate from nearby speakers. All except for Morphology's album, nothing more than a barren, empty crawlspace in an unremarkable space-station. It's certainly a choice, and may even suite the electro vibe Matti and Michael cultivate, but does little in standing out on a label like FireScope.

So I'm glad that, if nothing else, we've got something a little more colourful for Morphology's follow-up on FireScope, Horta Proxima. At first glance, it's still a stark, almost barren bit of scenery, but at least we have some nice contrast in the darks and oranges. Looking deeper though, and you discover there's all sorts of odd, mysterious artifacts in this landscape. Is that some sort of ruin? A living creature? A bio-mechanical monstrosity? So many possibilities, though I'm certain ninety percent of you have already thought of that one episode of classic Star Trek.

In any event, Horta Proxima is indeed the latest album from Morphology, which means is yet another of those quirky items on FireScope where an LP is split between two CDs of EP length. Yeah, yeah, it's meant to replicate the vinyl experience of having an album on two separate discs, which was a bit novel when Morphology broke that barrier with Traveller. Now that Steven Rutter, John Shima, and Derek Carr have also gotten in on that however, it doesn't feel quite so novel. Whatever, you do you, FireScope.

(*DE-DAE-DE DUN-DUUNN* BREAKING NEWS!!
As I was writing this, FireScope announced a Mophology box-set ...kinda'. Two separate albums titled Twelve, out on four CDs or records, with cover-art that's... very techno traditionalist. So much for falling lock-step with rest of the label)

Whichever disc of Horta Proxima you throw on first, they play out in similar fashion. The first couple tracks feature the most 'FireScope'-y of the tracks, closer to the domain of melodic IDM and sci-fi techno, followed by an assault of bumpin' electro, closing off with something on the downbeat. Or the whole thing plays out in two halves, if you go the digital route. When Morphology let the melodies carry, they fit right at home with FireScope, but whenever the robots start gettin' down, they remain odd cybermen out. Throughout it all though, their mint, angular beatcraft and thick bass tones resolutely keep the propah' electro fires burning bright. Preferably glimmering across chrome-painted star cruisers.

Various - Heights

Archives: 2020

Finally, I get to talk about Archives! Not that this Spanish ambient label is some utterly unknown entity. Nay, they've been operation for over half a decade now, steadily releasing albums at a solid clip of several items per year, with such names like Purl, Halftribe, and Gallery Six making appearances. Throw in gorgeous naturalistic cover art with each release, and you'd think Archives would be on the tips of more tongues within the ambient-o-sphere.

Honestly though, if it wasn't for the Purl connection, I probably would have completely passed Archives by. As I've said in the past, when there's so much ambient music being released by the hour, one tends to focus their interests on specific artists and labels after a while, trusted go-tos and the like. Occasionally a Discoggian dive or a spiffy write-up in a 'zine might lure you in for a closer look, but in my experience, such times are rare. We are very much creatures of habit. Maybe, if I'd happened upon the cover art at least, I'd have given Archives a shot (they are very lovely landscapes), but I haven't seen much of their output in the usual blogs and store-fronts, to say nothing of being almost a non-factor in getting attention of the Almighty Algorithm. Nope, it was strictly the fact Purl released an album on there in 2020 that I ever learned of the label at all.

With that in mind, you may expect Archives to mostly be on that slightly dubby, layered drone type of ambient business, rather like Silent Season on their beatless days. Well, I don't know about that with any authoritative measure, as I've only gotten four CDs from the label thus far. I suppose it's handy that we're starting this mini-plunge with a compilation then, a tasty appetizer of various artists on offer before taking in a proper meal.

And hoo boy, am I ever diving into the ambientia obscura here. Andrew Tasselmyer. Shuta Yasukochi. Pepo Galán. Sphereuleus. Snufmumriko. Not to say these are complete unknowns abroad – some have even made appearances on Kompakt. Out of the eleven tracks featured on Heights though, I only recognize two off-hand: Hilyard, due to her collaboration with ProtoU on Cryo Chamber; and Warmth, because he runs Archives, and thus has a ton of material on the label.

Tasselmyer's Columns opens things up, and it's a pure drone-tone piece, eventually fading off into white noise and wind. Ellis' Canyons edges closer to modern classical, gentle piano piercing dense layers of calming, dubby drone. Heights mostly flits between these styles of ambient throughout, pieces ambling along and generally maintaining a tranquil mood. While every artist does bring something unique, you probably won't notice much variation unless you're paying close attention.

And that's fine, Archives' brand of ambient clearly intent on existing as nothing more than a cleanser for your headspace. As such, you'd justly believe it'd remain overlooked and obscure, but it's just so darn good at it!

Technical Itch - Find Your Darkness

Tech Itch Recordings: 2020

It took over two decades, but Mark Caro finally released a proper second Technical Itch album. Yeah, yeah, he's put out several Progression Threat and Digitally Ascended LPs, not to mention so many singles that you'd need a multi-CD box-set to house all the music within. Those were all for tracks though, the sort of listening experience that, while fine as a collection of tunes, still lack that all important thematic flow the best albums have. And I know Mr. Caro is capable of it, his debut Tech Itch album Diagnostics still a mesmerizing assault of darkstep business to this day. Speaking of, when might we see a re-issue of that record? Surely rescuing it from Moving Shadow legal limbo shouldn't be this last longing?

I'm sure Mark has his reasons for not returning to the album format for so long, chief among them there wasn't much need to. He was sustaining a tidy career through singles, all the while maintaining his own labels in Penetration Records and Tech Itch Recordings. I wonder though, if the flurry of proper albums from the likes of Doom Poets, Voyage, and Brakken coming out on the latter print inspired him some. Heck, was he maybe involved in the production of those? He definitely was part of Biostacis, a mini-group that enjoyed a semi-revival in 2015. Whichever way you want to frame it, bottom line is, hey, new Technical Itch album!

And nothing states this is a Proper Album than an ambient intro. Following that, Modified Code drops us right back into familiar Technical Itch territory, crusty aggressive 2-step action with wailing synth backdrops and paranoid vocal samples. Stand Down brings on the Amen breakcore business, all the while maintaining the cybernetic sonic horror Mark's always been ace at.

All well and good, the production top notch, but what if you're kinda' yearning for something a little more retro, from the early days of darkstep? Can't deny the titular cut has my Diagnostics nostalgia triggers flaring. The 2-step and rolling bassline sound like it could have come from that album, and there's acid! 'Member when Technical Itch included a hardcore acid track on Diagnostics? Ooh, I 'member! Elsewhere, B28 and Machine Ghosts gets down on some basic groove ridin' swagger, while Alien gets all moody and minimal. Well, about as minimal as you'd expect from a Technical Itch cut. And speaking of ol' school, The Eagle's grimy vibe definitely has me feeling those classic Ed Rush & Optical vibes. Oh, you want only the latest technological advancements in your darkstep? Uh, first thing, that's not really what the Tech Itch label's about. But sure, Violent Instinct, The Angels and Belief go about as fuckin' hard as this genre allows without crossing the scenes.

A triumphant return to albums for Technical Itch, then? Ah, it's good, but not Diagnostics great. Find Your Darkness is plumb for choice cuts that are nicely sequenced, but lacks the whirlwind ride of narrative flow Tech Itch's debut had.

Higher Intelligence Agency - Discatron

Headphone: 2020

*PREVIOUSLY, ON EMCRITIC...*

Man, what I wouldn't give for something new [from The Higher Intelligence Agency]. Something new... something new... something new...

*AND NOW, THE CONTINUATION!*

When I left the last HIA review off on that cliff-hanger, it was with full intent of Discatron being that “something new... something new...” item. Wouldn't you know it though, Bobby Bird released another item since then, and a full LP at that, Song Of The Machine. Goodness, that's more music from the Agency this decade than the previous two combined! Heck, you'd have to go even further back for any solo material. Something must have lit quite the creative spark under Bobby's muse to have put out two whole new joints in such (relatively) rapid succession. Methinks it was uploading his catalogue to Bandcamp that did the trick. Revisiting one's past artistic accomplishments has a habit of doing that.

Given that massive gap between Birmingham Frequencies and Discatron, surely Mr. Bird has gathered all manner of new toys to tinker with, new sonic roads left unexplored, fresh angles to approach his songcraft. Hah, no, not really. Seems HIA has taken the B12 route in maintaining his distinct style of ambient-bleep techno-dub, just giving it a modern production spit-shine. And frankly, I doubt fans of HIA, myself included, would have it any other way. When you already have a unique approach to music making, one that honestly has never been replicated or duplicated after thirty years in the business, there's little sense in messing with that formula.

And the titular opener of this EP allays any worry folks may have of that. Chirping, singing bleeps, wobbly acid bassline, and dubby percussion that's tight and crisp, with a vibe that keeps things firmly tongue-in-cheek, never letting anything grow tedious or self-serious as dub techno is so wont to do. The only thing that keeps Discatron in the here and now and not some long, lost older tune is just how cavernous the dub delay reaches now.

Second track 3P mostly focuses on Bird's brand of broken beat with acid in support, reverb effects wishing and washing about as the rhythm cruises along. B-Theory, the track that first clued me in that HIA was even on the rise again, really pulls on those vintage Artificial Intelligence feels, less pulpy than other Bobby works. Finally, Sound Matter goes about as deep into dub as you'll ever hear HIA, a languid pace for a slow burner of a moody tune. Oh, and the digital version of Discatron includes an experimental piece called Colourmotion. Is probably more interesting for those into musique concrete, and I'm sure Bobby had fun twiddling nobs in getting some of these drone tones, but I'm more about his cool grooves, y'dig?

So a solid (motion) return for HIA, all said. As for Song Of The Machine, eh, I dunno. Looks like an 'experimental Steampunk' album to me, and I prefer my HIA pulp-fiction indulgences '50s sci-fi.

Terror Cell | Layer 3 - Coding Sequence

Tech Itch Recordings: 2020

Feels like forever since I last talked up anything from Technical Itch's label. Well over a year, by my blog's logs, but perhaps this is for the good. The drum 'n' bass from this print is so often relentless in its audio assaults, one needs a breather between sessions. Or I do, in any event. There are some hardcore deebee heads out there that do nothing but eat, breathe, and shit darkstep and all its permutations. Hardcore to the last.

After quite the flurry of artist-driven activity, Tech Itch Recordings seemed to slow down some, mostly putting out ambient 'white labels' from Mark Caro while the world figured its shit out. It looks like they're finally getting things rolling again with a slate of new CDs on the way, so that's nice. Just hopefully not too much all at once, as there's still material from before the gap commenced that I'm just now finally getting to.

Among the last of these items – maybe the last, if catalogue numbers are to be believed – is this pairing of Terror Cell and Layer 3, Coding Sequence. Neither have major Discogs presence, lacking names on their bios, which fits with Tech Itch Recordings' anonymous manifesto. At least they have pictures in their profiles. Layer 3 appears to have released a pile of DATs with MP3s throughout the '00s, while Terror Cell put out a few sporadic items in the early '10s. I kinda' get the sense these cats are more DJs than producers, and they have apparently done a few tag-team rinse outs at Tech Itch parties. Still, not a whole lot to go on for a superlative bio paragraph, so let's stop wasting time and get right into the music.

And it's definitely darkstep, as you'd expect from artists on Technical Itch's label. I mean, there wasn't much surprise from the last two acts I covered (Voyage and Doom Poets), so why would there be here? Mr. Caro has a finely tuned style, and the d'n'b producers he's taken on generally match that style. The basslines bash, the Amen Breaks crash, the 2-step rhythms mash, and the paranoid sci-fi samples smash. Not necessarily in that order.

While opener Beacon keeps things mostly on the atmospheric vibe, TC & L3 don't waste much time coming in with the aggro, follow-up Embryo about as vicious and nasty as this stuff gets. And geez, Coding Sequence doesn't let up, each subsequent track seemingly ramping the pressure up. It obviously doesn't, as I'd be spent before mid-album (some drumstep detours help), which is a testament to their production skill in hitting you just hard enough to keep wanting more. Wow, never thought of darkstep as sadomasochist.

Things do relatively wind down by albums end, the final clutch of tracks more standard ol' school tech-step. Can't deny this leaves my lingering impression of Coding Sequence a little weaker than it should. They're fine tracks, just may have been better served spaced out some. Can't really complain.

The Future Sound Of London - Cascade 2020

fsoldigital.com: 2020

You knew this was high on FSOL's 'remake classics' list. Cascade already had the distinction of being the first in their 'every single is now a mini-album' manifesto, and it kinda' showed. For all the elements in play with the track proper, Brian and Garry didn't take it down terribly divergent 'paths' compared to later efforts with their EPs. Which is expected, still in a feeling out process of just what they could potentially do with all the new gear they acquired after signing with the mighty Virgin. Brian even says they simply didn't have the technology or know-how at the time to create the sort of music sloshing about in their brains. Still, capital effort in the results, y'know.

Time munches on and hey, wouldn't you know it, technology and know-how finally caught up with ambition, such that FSOL can't stop releasing material if they tried! Having seemingly exhausted their Environments muses for now, it seemed appropriate to revisit some of their back-catalogue, give tunes the sort of care they only dreamed of back in the day (or in the case of Yage, never got the chance in the first place).

If it seemed like I didn't get into the finer details of the original Cascade, it's because I knew there'd be ample opportunity to do so here. The opening track, appropriately enough, is the original track, claiming to be a 'recreation'. It honestly sounds very much like the version as heard on Lifeforms (so sans the little electro bridge two-thirds through), though obviously beefed up in the production department. And yet, I can't help but notice a slight filter on everything too, as though I'm hearing it from another era. Nah, must be some trick on my brain's nostalgia centres, I'm sure.

Now we get into some truly divergent paths, Flood Of Reflection, Deep Sea Of Clouds, and Things That Mattered stripping things down to spare rhythms, subtle pads, and sample collagist works. Meanwhile, Amid The Overwhelm, Dark Hours Of your Being and Sluice get their psychedelic acid stomp on. Elsewhere, techno's pulse can still be felt with Multiple Falling Objects and Brief Silence In The Distance, while What Falls Away Is Always gives the trancey arps of the original's bridge some solo shine. It's funny how such synths almost come off the most dated attribute of Cascade, a relic of the early '90s.

And hey, if you still prefer the older sound of London, we do get some continuation of the original EP, with Part 6 and Part 7 sprinkled about (plus another 'recreation' of the grittier Part 4). Part 6 certainly sounds of that era, an airy rendition that isn't much removed from The Orb's most ambient moments. Part 7 ends Cascade 2020, which really isn't much more than a coda to everything that came before. And hoo, if there wasn't a lot that came before. More than anyone who liked Cascade could probably want, but eh, that's been FSOL's ideology for a while now.

Ciro Berenguer - Bruma

Slaapwel Records: 2020

I wish Slaapwel was more fruitful in their musical endeavours, rather than taking the Rip Van Winkle pace their sleep-based manifesto so religiously follows. They've released but three items since I last splurged on them (if you can call scooping up three CDs a splurge), which is about on pace for their 'one album per year' rate. Oddly, their latest one from Kreng + Svarte Greiner, The Night Hag, seems like something more suitable for a dark ambient print than one promoting a well rounded circadian rhythm. Sleep terrors, really? Good God, maybe I should just start springing for digital copies of Slaapwel's older, long out-of-print items. Ooh, The Boats...!

In the meanwhile, let's check out one of the few recent Slaapwel releases I did spring for, this here Bruma from Ciro Berenguer. According to Lord Discogs, he is ...um, almost nonexistent, it seems. The only other record to his name there is El Mar De Junio (Eilean 64), released on Eilean Rec. I'm not familiar with that label, though do recognize a few names there (James Murray, Twincities, Wil Bolton). They also apparently had something of a gimmick to their releases, strictly one-hundred items, based upon points on a map. Man, and I thought the collector's OCD was strong with Neotantra.

Digging a little deeper, I did find Ciro's Bandcamp, which has one other album, and contributions to other odds 'n ends scattered about. Seems more of a local talent within Barcelona's music scene then, a musician mostly content remaining on the periphery. I suppose that's why I found this write-up for Bruma so amusing: “Listeners familiar with Berenguer’s previous work will recognize his typical minimal style with fading, constantly evolving themes.” Just how big an audience does Mr. Berenguer have such that they'd immediately recognize specific musical traits anyway? Then again, it's not like Slaapwel Records, a tiny print based out of Belgium, would have potential audiences on the other side of the globe in mind when writing their Bandcamp blurbs. And yeah, that Eilean record definitely had some abstract minimalism going for it, a far gap of songcraft compared to the more traditionalist guitar folk LP he put out many years before.

In typical Slaapwel style, Bruma features a single thirty-five minute long track titled Los Entresijos De La Noche, or “The Ins And Outs Of Night”. It, too, mostly goes for minimalist sonic abstraction, gentle guitar plucks and manipulated xylophone tones as fed through tape loops and field recordings. At many points, the piece almost fades to nothing but echoing embers of melody, as though you're finally nodding off for the night. This being over a half-hour of improvisation though, the music does re-emerge for more tranquil bells and the like.

And if I'm honest, I have a difficult time keeping attention for the duration, the lethargic nature of Ciro's songcraft here extremely effective in lulling me into a state of synaptic inertness. Another successful outing from Slaapwel Records, in other words.

Neil Young - Archives, Vol. 2: Disc 10 - Odeon Budokan (1976)

Reprise Records: 2020

What a strange way to end Archives, Vol. 2. True, nothing could beat the triumphant cap of Vol. 1 that included all the chart-topping and critically lauded Harvest material, but a live album? And not just a live album, but recordings from overseas shows in London and Tokyo? I guess in keeping with the 'three Performance Series per Archives' theme, we'd get one exclusive to the box-set like Live At The Riverboat. This wasn't separately released prior, and I see no official plans to do so after.

If the timeline is to be believed, these shows were performed after Neil had joined Stephen Stills in Miami for their Stills-Young Band sessions, but before abandoning Crazy Horse to tour with Stephen instead. So in the course of a couple months, ol' Shakey had travelled from California, to Florida, to Japan, to the U.K. and back to Florida. Long may you run indeed, but not if you're gonna' burn both ends while burning your friends along the way.

As this disc is a cobble-lation of two shows performed literally half a world apart, it's appropriately broken up between the two. Oddly, they're not in chronological order, the London shows first, followed by the Tokyo jams after. My only assumption here is Odeon Budokan wants to recapture the same sequencing as Rust Never Sleeps, acoustic numbers opening the LP, then closing out with Crazy Horse 'rawkers'. To be fair, that's how Neil's concerts with Crazy Horse went regardless, I just have no idea why all the acoustic material comes from Odeon, and all the rock from Budokan. Just a happenstance of where the better recordings were?

So the acoustic set has some familiar tunes (Old Man, The Old Laughing Lady, After The Goldrush ...I'm honestly quite burnt out hearing that one on these live albums), plus a couple then-unreleased songs in Too Far Gone and Stringman. What's funny about these is you can really tell the unfamiliarity of them with the London crowd. Exuberant cheers upon hearing the first notes of the recognizable songs, then almost dead silence with the other two, save a polite applause after they're finished. Considering they wouldn't be officially released until way later, I'm sure Neil got a kick out of confusing the casuals in the crowd with them.

I'm not sure how familiar the Japanese crowd was with the freshly released Zuma record either, but they seemed to enjoy the rowdy rockers just the same. They also get a version of Cowgirl In The Sand, which isn't quite up to the epic outing as heard on Live At The Fillmore East, nor as tight as heard in later live albums with Crazy Horse. It was Frank Sampedro's earliest concerts with the group though, so just needed a little more time to fully mesh. Either that, or this was one of the supposed shows he'd taken acid at. Oh, hippie-rockers, never change.

And that's a wrap on Archives, Vol. 2! Join me again for Archives, Vol. 3, due for release ...whenever it gets released, I guess.