Coldcut - More Beats + Pieces (2014 Update)

Ninja Tune: 1997

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review and DJ Mag rant.)


Oh, that ‘review’. I almost feel obligated making a 2014 Update about the status of the DJ Mag poll over anything Coldcut related. But no, that’s not what these updates are about. They’re re-examinations of releases years from when I first reviewed them: how they’ve held up, whether a trend they were a part of is still relevant, and adding new thoughts and ideas about the music given the benefit of gained knowledge and wisdom. Also, if the original review was shite, I can make amends with a better one! So no, I will not be going on another DJ Mag tirade in this update. That settled, let’s see what’s new about Coldcut’s More Beats + Pieces EP, what tidbits of info I’ve gleaned all these years later.

Um… well… Let’s see, there’s… Oh, did you know there was a live version of More Beats + Pieces that’s even better than the one on here? Wait, you do know that? Ah, right, Masters Of 1 & 2. Then how about that… thing about… the stuff regarding Coldcut where, uh, you know, did things. Alright, there’s nothing worth adding to a fifteen year old EP that I hadn’t already exhaustively covered. And no, I’m still not listing all the samples. It’d ruin your trainspotting fun.

DJ Mag, then? Fine, DJ Mag, although there’s little to add here either. Some names have changed, but my rant of 2005 holds about as true as it did then - come to think of it, Armin’s fans are still whining when he’s not number one, including this past year’s results. The biggest change that occurred with the poll was running it through Facebook, thus diluting the trance-cracker purity it’d maintained throughout the ‘00s. As a result, David Guetta won, knocking Armin out of top spot and producing one of the all-time hilarious, saddest celebrations of a DJ winning an award ever witnessed. DJ Mag almost always has footage of it removed from YouTube, but if you do stumble upon it, enjoy the mirth.

In general though, DJ Mag’s relevance continues to dwindle despite all their efforts suggesting otherwise. A singular popularity poll no longer carries the weight it once did when Twitter followers, YouTube watches, Soundcloud downloads, and Facebook Likes are a better gauge of what DJ or producer is currently bankable. Sasha hasn’t been on the poll for two years running, yet I highly doubt his stock as a DJ has dwindled in that time.

What’s adorable about all this is DJ Mag knows how bullshit the results are (jokingly exemplified here). Despite running a poll that paints them as curators of EDM’s cheesiest, corporate interests, the editors insist they maintain a culturally relevant rag about electronic music as whole. Perhaps, but are you willing to shell out a few bones monthly to find out? I sure don’t give a rat’s ass what their articles have to say. Why should I, what with such a goofy poll their ongoing legacy?

Banco de Gaia - Memories Dreams Reflections (2014 Update)

Disco Gecko: 2009

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.)

I promise this is the last Banco de Gaia for a good long while. Pinky-swearsie, I do! Well, until that 20th anniversary edition of Maya arrives in the mail. Or Mr. Marks happens to release another album with a title falling within my alphabetical stipulation. Beyond that though, it’ll be a long time, for sure a very long time.

What wasn't so long ago was the release of Memories Dreams Reflections; at least, it doesn't feel that long ago. Four-point-five years though, that's practically a lifetime in raver years. Heck, most give up on 'the scene' in that amount of time. I sure didn't, but then, coming of age in the hinterlands of Canada didn't provide much opportunity for the quick, burn-out turnaround many go through. Actual parties were few and far between, whereas the big cities often got away with one every weekend. By the time I got to a big city with such a scene (Vancouver), it was on the downswing, most of the old-schoolers having moved on or found new homes in the ‘classier’ club scene (woo, legal alcohol!). In re-branding raves as ‘music festivals’, we’re seeing the upswing of a new generation , but if the typical reveler lifespan holds true, the first wave of burn-outs will start in short order, if not already.

What of the hold-outs, though? What keeps us going to these events, listening to this music? I’ve often asked myself this, and the answer always comes back to the search for that ‘perfect’ party. Sometimes it’s a desire to re-capture something from one’s youth, other times it’s a hope to experience it just once, but in the end, there’s long been a romanticism associated with losing oneself to the all-night dance. A proper refuge for the ostracized of society, a rebellion against mainstream conformity, escapism – it’s why electronic music always retreats back to the underground after flirtations with commercial success, as the very concept of the culture is directly counter to what society deems proper behavior (work your job, raise your family, watch your TV, etc.). Those who still partake in this scene often find a way of balancing the two, either making club culture their primary job (DJs, musicians, promoters), or only going to select events they feel will come as close to being their idea of a ‘perfect’ party as any; for yours truly, I’m definitely of the latter sort.

I suppose, on some sub-conscious level, that’s why I’ve been systematically going through all the music I’ve gathered: an attempt at piecing together my time involved with electronic music’s ever-evolving scene. What’s lead me down the musical paths I’ve taken? Why do I find some genres more favorable than others? Could things have been different if I’d been exposed to different parties and music? Why didn’t other counter-culture music, like punk or metal, appeal in a similar fashion?

Yeah, sorry there’s nothing ‘updated’ in this post. Guess I took the whole Memories Dreams Reflections concept to heart this time.

King Cannibal - Let The Night Roar (2014 Update)

Ninja Tune: 2009

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.)


It took me some time in finding dubstep I could get behind. There was the dancehall influenced stuff, sure, and also the material Burial put out that was retroactively called ‘post-dubstep’ or ‘future-garage’ or whatever. Yet something straight-forward with the signature half-step beat and wobble basslines? Dear Lord, no! Too much of it struck me as gimmicky nonsense (even before brostep ever got popular), and while I’ll grant my general exposure to it during the late ‘00s wasn’t the best (for the love of God, stop playing those same Benga and Coki tracks over and over), there wasn’t much incentive for me to dig further.

Then I heard King Cannibal’s Flower Of Flesh And Blood. It wasn’t one of those “OMG, EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS GENRE/MUSICIAN IS THE GREATEST THING EVER!” moments – and yes, I have had tons of those over the years. Heck, it wasn’t even one of those “Ah, now I ‘get’ dubstep” moments. I got dubstep quite early on, as it’s a very simple form of music to get in the first place. What this track did, however, was prove to yours truly that dubstep could, in fact, not only be good, but really damn good!

Yeah, yeah, the Hyperdub print kinda-sorta already did that, but I’m talking about the visceral thrills all the bro-steppers were going off on about. Flower Of Flesh And Blood has the same cavernous snare hits, the growling mid-range basslines (though rather similar to jungle tech-step), and an aim squarely at massive crowds. It’s also properly dark and nasty, not like all those try-hard attempts the likes of Excision and Datsik were offering – like the difference between Slayer and …anyone trying to be Slayer.

Maybe it helped that King Cannibal’s debut album wasn’t strictly a dubstep affair, though definitely owing much to the UK bass scene. With emphasis on the grimier aspects of the music than cheap thrills, Let The Night Roar has held up remarkably well while so much other dubstep of the time remains stuck in that era. Good ol’ Ninja Tune, they sure know how to pick ‘em, and if you missed out on this album the first time around, it wouldn’t hurt for you to give it a second chance. Unless, of course, you figure Borgore the height of dubstep sophistication.

And what of Le Cannibale De Roi? He released a Ninja Tune tribute mix the following year, titled The Way Of The Ninja. It features two-hundred fifty tracks from the label within seventy-four minutes of madness. The… fuck…!!? (!) I’m tempted to scope that out, for sure. As for Mr. Dylan Richards, his output dried up following Let The Night Roar. The… double-fuck…!!? (!!) What happened there? Did his Ninja Tune deal end? Is Lord Discogs being dishonest with me? Apparently he released an album called Kill The Lights as House Of Black Lanterns last year on Houndstooth. From what I’ve heard of it, it’s… different, I’ll give it that.

Perfect Stranger - Learning = Change (2013 Update)

Iboga Records: 2006

(Click here to wander the barren wastes of my old writing.)

*blink* ...*blink-blink*

Sorry about that. My eyes dried out while trying to read that old review of mine. I still couldn't get through it. In fact, just thinking about it has left my creative process a desolate desert. I'm utterly stumped on what to say in this Update. It's still a good prog-psy album, far better than most of the material Iboga Records churned out in later years. What kind of material? Ah, you don't want me to tell you, it's really not interesting. I'm going to though, aren't I, just to burn some word count here.

Iboga was making a name for itself in the mid-'00s as a worthy contributor to a growing prog-psy scene, their finest offerings easily on par with the likes of Spiral Trax. Then, for some totally daft reason, the Iboga roster started getting bit by the minimal bug. Their tunes often had a deeper, tribal tone to them, sandwiched between the driving, melodic numbers, but not any longer. Perfect Stranger, Iboga's main man remember, was particularly smitten by this trend, churning out some of the driest tracks you could imagine. I don't know if they ever recovered from that nonsense, as I lost touch with the label as this decade took form. Didn't want to bother springing for music if it was gonna' be the listening equivalent of traversing the Gobi Desert.

I did have a chance to see if Perfect Stranger had changed his sound this summer, as he was one of the headliners at the Shambhala Music Festival. Unfortunately, he was slotted for a ridiculously early time at the psytrance-worldbeat-hippieshit stage, at which point I was slotted to work on the clean-up crew as part of my volunteer duties. Yeah, after six years attending this festival, I gave back to that which gave so much to me – the early-entry, gettin' fed, warm showers, and cool co-workers was a good incentive too. That Friday evening shift, I rode around on the trash collection truck; dirty work true, but a lot of fun too, hopping on a moving vehicle chanting “Trash! Trash! Trash!” along the way, dancing to music whenever we neared one of the stages. It was one, big, moving party, keeping the grounds tidy and that.

Still, my fondest memory of that trip didn't occur at the festival, but the night before my travelling posse got there. We stayed overnight in a small town called Trail, famous for a massive steel mill in the centre. We thought maybe a pub might be open late, but as it was a holiday night, Trail's downtown was dead, not a soul on the street, and a disconcerting sight for us city goers. Meanwhile, looming in the background of this abandoned area lay the massive factory, its evening lights eerily illuminating massive smoke stacks billowing thick clouds into the warm summer night. A real steampunk sight for this day in age.

What? Oh hey, Learning = Change. Still worth a listen, it is. Trust.

Felix Da Housecat - Kittenz And Thee Glitz (2013 Update)

Emperor Norton: 2001/2004

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.)


Boy, reading that old review sure feels like a time warp. I'll grant it's almost eight years old now, so thoughts and opinions do change in the years between, but it's clear I'm still in the afterglow of my electroclash marriage, despite the genre having been subsumed into electro house by 2006. Oddball gimmick aside, I can’t imagine myself writing anything like it ever again. I’ve yet to come across a fresh ‘dumb-fun’ genre of music that I enjoyed as much as that one, and as I get up in these years, the allure of ‘dumb-fun’ music wanes, my tastes maturing with sophistication and class. Now where’s that new space synth compilation?

Actually, the real reason I and so many others got into electroclash and all things ‘80s revivalist was how it felt like reacquainting with an old friend. It wasn’t so much a wave of retro admiration or nostalgic memories spurring it on, but the realization of, “Hey, why did we stop listening to music like this?”

Basically, ‘90s music ideology could be summed up thus: if it sounds like the ‘80s, it sucks. The classic tale is how grunge kicked hair metal to the curb, and hip-hop saw quite an upheaval too, but electronic music was no less guilty. Classic electro all but vanished during the Clinton Administration, a few stalwarts like Aux 88 keeping it alive while everyone else moved onto evolutions of the sound (Florida breaks, technobass, etc.). Synth pop... hoo boy, did that ever get shunted by euro dance and its ilk. It’s amazing groups like Pet Shop Boys, The Human League, and such survived long enough through those lean times to be ‘re-discovered’ at the turn of the century (“um, we never went away, y’know”).

This isn’t to fault the ‘90s disassociation with the ‘80s, mind you, as electronic music took many brilliant steps forward during that decade; if forgetting the past to move into the future was what it took, then so be it. Sometime in the late ‘90s, however, a few scattered producers remembered all the brilliant steps electronic music took during the Reagan Administration too, not to mention the warmth those old synths carried compared to the slick polish the latest club cuts came with. Maybe some time away from electro-proper was required to appreciate the joys of synth pop, hi-NRG, and italo disco again, and Felix da Housecat was there to capitalize on our old-new fondness for the sound on Kittenz And Thee Glitz.

One more thing I neglected touching upon on that original review is the difference of this Stateside version of the album. There’s the changed cover, obviously, opting for a ‘60s spy thriller poster instead of a celebrity gossip rag mock-up the UK got. And since this is Emperor Norton, the US got two bonus remixes at the end, a Thin White Duke mix of Silver Screen Shower Scene and Röyksopp having a go with What Does It Feels Like? They’re... eh.

Delerium - Karma (2013 Update)

Nettwerk: 1997

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.)


Oh my God! I had no idea Leeb and Fulber recycled the main melody in Twilight from their earlier Front Line Assembly tune Outcast. Have they no shame? Ah, who cares, it's a great melody. Okay, that sorted...

That Silence, a track receiving very little promotion when Karma first hit the streets, would go on to (sadly) define Delerium forever after - and who’s subsequent remixes would also inspire a whole slew of copycat vocal trance upstarts - has always surprised me. Reflecting on the whole phenomenon as I re-listened to this album, however, I was struck by something even more surprising: why wasn't this song more heavily promoted? I mean, Sarah f’n McLachlan’s on the vocals, at a time when her star was finally breaking through into mainstream recognition (or was that Canada’s hype machine going into overdrive?). Who cares about that chick from Single Gun Theory or Ms. McLachlan’s backup singer when you have the real deal providing pipes on a song? I guess Nettwerk did, tapping Euphoric and Duende for lead single duty instead (sorry, Kristy Thirsk, you already got two singles to your credit on the previous Delerium album).

I’ve already touched upon why such collaboration made sense in my old review. On the other hand, perhaps Nettwerk was uncertain whether the two had audiences within the same sphere. Despite a following career suggesting otherwise, Leeb and Fulber’s ambient side-project was still considered more in line with the industrial and goth scene most knew them by. It wouldn’t surprise me if Nettwerk saw potential in turning Delerium from dark, morbid, ambient drone into something commercially viable upon signing them, but even after Semantic Spaces, they fluttered between the two. Karma, however, was definitely taking a proper stab at ‘post-Enigma’ world beat and downtempo; yet only electronic music fans remained aware of the group, even in 1997. Lord knows I couldn’t namedrop Delerium to anyone outside my music circle without getting confused glances. The cliché may now be that both Delerium and Sarah McLachlan appeal to the same demographic (middle-aged housewives into spiritualism and that), but it was far from the case when Karma came out. Sarah had her fans in the folk music scene, Delerium had their fans in… elsewheres, and you’d never catch either of them interacting (unless by accident if they were watching a MuchMusic Countdown video with both making the list).

G'uh, I’ve spent way too much time on Silence, something I should instead do when I review the single-proper (which is never). Whatever the initial intent behind the song was, it went on to dominate Delerium’s sound forever after (ethereal, gothic world beat pop with guest female vocals). Ugh, it was okay as intermittent tracks spaced out between the pure instrumentals (if you can count a bunch of ethnic and Gregorian chants as ‘instrumental’), but not as their defining characteristic. Karma struck the right balance, and small surprise it remains a favourite for new and old fans alike.

Various - Influence 2.2: A Hardtrance Experience (2013 Update)

Hypnotic: 1995

(Click here to have your eyes glaze over attempting to read my stupid long original review.)


No, really, what in God’s green and blue Earth was I thinking in writing such a ridiculously bloated review for Influence 2.2? I spend over 200 words detailing some tracks, and Argon-X’s Little Gamma’s Adventure gets a whopping 300 words. While some of them do hold up as good examples of classic mid-‘90s hard trance, they were by no means super-ultra-mega classics or anything. And Hell, it sure wasn’t like I wasn’t cutting a few corners with other reviews at the time, seeking brevity on some of the more repetitive CDs I’d be handed.

Right, right. I’m a big sucker for most things Music Research related. And, I suppose in my enthusiasm to share my thoughts on more music from the label, I went totally and utterly overboard on this one. Thing to remember is, in 2005, there weren’t many handy options for sharing audio, at least by any grey-legal means. TranceCritic was more than happy to provide Amazon links to these CDs, and if they just happened to have a thirty-second clip of it, all the better. But as we were trying to be something of a legitimate website, hot-linking to file-sharing services was totally out of the question, to say nothing of uploading such tunes ourselves (oh hello, you be shut down now). These days, it’s no th’ang to give a [Spotify] link – in fact, there's [the entire CD] for you down below right now. There, done, no three-hundred bloody words to let you know how it sounds; just my thumbs up required.

[edit: this whole section is clearly no longer valid, after Spotify became available in Canada, but here it is for posterity sake]
[edit2: Deezer as well, but I'm too lazy updating the link here]
This is why I [didn’t] bother uploading any audio to this here blog. Finding music online is ridiculously easy, a simple “_______ YouTube” search inquiry in your little Google bar all that’s required. If folks want to hear music for themselves, it’s not hard. Still, and call me a curmudgeon traditionalist on this, I believe there remains some value in the hunt for music, a certain satisfaction attained when that search turns out results. Don’t want to make things too easy for the kids these days.

So where does this leave us with Influence 2.2? Kind of forgotten and redundant, now that I think about it. The best tracks off here are worth having, for certain, but they’re coupled with some totally forgettable stuff too. Another benefit of modern music gathering compared to years ago is not having to get a whole CD for a few choice cuts, and believe you me Little Gamma’s Adventure, Influid’s We’re Always Behind You, and Phoenixx’s The Mongolian Rider are worth the pennies it takes to buy an MP3 these days. Maybe Retroflex’s Family Nightmare too, for the silliness of it all (woo epic gabber trance!). Of course, if you’re just some sort of crazy CD collector (*cough*), you’re gonna have to settle for Influence 2.2 because, believe it or not, this is one of the only places you’ll find Argon-X's cut (so sayeth The Discogs). Hey, maybe its rarity makes that old ginormous review worth- pft, nah!

Miguel Migs - Get Salted, Volume 1 (2013 Update)

Salted Music: 2005

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.)

I must be getting old. It's the only explanation for how I somehow enjoy this CD more than when I first wrote a review for it. When was that, six or seven years ago now? My God, can one's taste in music really change that much from their late twenties to mid-thirties? I mean, I heard the rumours of it being so, the anecdotes, the old-wives' tales, but now that I've experienced it myself, I'm astounded to find the legends are true. It's not like I didn't have an appreciation for deep house when I was younger. Even in my early twenties, I enjoyed the output of chaps like Mark Farina and such. This is a different feeling though, a soul feeling, a- Oh dear, I'm turning into one of those house heads, aren't I.

Yeah, yeah, I quipped a whole bunch about that in my original TranceCritic review of Get Salted, Vol. 1, which sure makes my writing come off immature now that I look back at it (not to mention the overlong, pointless 'angle' of whether Miguel Migs should get an artist credit or not – inappropriate, leftover snark-rant regarding DJs and the spotlights they seek, t’was). Folly of youth, I guess, but it’s not like this CD’s an overlooked gem that my lack of maturity couldn’t comprehend at the time. All that’s happened is the bumpin’ funk and soul vibes that’s long been a deep house trademark now resonate stronger than they did before, and there’s any number of reasons for this other than ‘getting older’.

For instance, the music that passed for popular ‘deep house’ following Get Salted, Vol. 1’s release was, for the most part, boring as shit. Minimal deep-tech? For the love of... What happened to the funk and soul? Hell, what even happened to the artsy European flavour? But whatever, that fad thankfully came to an end, to which we now have the nu-‘deep house’. It’s... well, just boring house for the most part, like 2002-era prog, but with all the plod and a distinct lack of spaciousness. Well sure then, Get Salted, Vol. 1’s gonna sound brilliant compared to those contemporary offerings of ‘deeper than thou’ house.

Props to Mr. Migs, then, for ignoring such trends while maintaining his Salted Music label to this day. Though sporadic in releases, it still peddles in that West Coast summery disco-funk style that OM and Naked made their names on. He even released a second volume of Get Salted in 2009, though I’m not compelled to check that one out, which brings me to a final point.

Get Salted, Vol. 1 may sound better to my aged ears in the here and now compared to the then and before, but the stylistic and pacing problems I mentioned in that old review also persist, especially the drag in the middle of the set. Despite Mr. Mig’s brand of deep house hitting those classic soul notes better than most, it still has its flaws too.

Frankie Knuckles - His Greatest Hits From Trax Records (2013 Update)

Trax Records: 2004

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.)

Hey, kids, are you tired of blasting electro house at festivals, knocking you over with over-the-top 'complextro' nonsense? Have you ever wondered if house music could be simple and groovin', but without sacrificing catchy hooks and kick-ass bass? Then let's take a gander at the roots of the genre, born and raised from the good ol' American city of Chicago. Wait, where are you going? What do you mean you can get your fix elsewheres? New York? Ireland!? Ya'll be trippin', I say. Ain't no house like Chicago house, right from the source. And no, I'm not talking about The Source, from which became synonymous with Frankie Knuckles even though the two likely never even talked to each other over the phone.

Ugh, this isn’t working. I’m just blathering nonsense. Against all odds, that original TranceCritic review I wrote years ago has held up. Yeah, the grammar’s still clunky in places, and I come off pointlessly defensive in the opening paragraph (does it really matter what my sexual orientation is?), but all the information you need’s right there in white on black. And any sort of ‘updating’ I could relay about Knuckles’ music on Trax has been co-opted by the seemingly never-ending ‘classic house revival’ narrative that’s developed in the past while. Hell, I just touched upon that with Hercules & Love Affair.

So I’m left with a 2013 Update with nothing to update on. That said, and half this wasteful exercise over, I’m going out to get drunk right now, and when I come back, let’s see what I’ve to say.

*tick-tock, tick-tock, not much time passed on the clock*

Well, that was pointless. Sure, I got drunk, but all too quickly for my liking. I must be exhausted, a theory totally corroborated by the wonky work hours I’ve had since getting back from vacation. Normally I work late evenings, but it’s been early mornings this past week, screwing up my sleep cycles. Thank God for energy drinks, even if they do weird things to your insides and possibly eyeballs (why do I see so many blobs and dark dots floating about?).

Is anyone still reading this far? If so, don’t be expecting some sort of new epiphany regarding Frankie Knuckles and his greatest tracks from Trax while I’m in this drunken state. The CD remains as good as when I first heard it; so instead, here’s a c+p of my concluding paragraph from my first review:

This release is a good introduction to the house sound of the mid-80s. A vibrant, hedonistic, sexual energy runs through these songs, capturing the carefree days when a gay man could escape the torment of prejudice and lose himself in house music. The tragic breakout of AIDS sadly cut short those years, and, like any scene that sprouts from innocent intents, it will never occur again. This is the soundtrack to those times and, no matter your sexual orientation, you can’t help but get lost in the moment as well.

William Orbit - Hello Waveforms (2013 Update)

Sanctuary Records: 2006

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.)

Truth is, when I first launched this blog back in 2010, I never bothered looking at stats. I cannot deny it was partially due to ego (“don't wanna know how few are reading, don't wanna know how few are reading...”), but I wasn't expecting much anyway, so barely gave it thought. Fast forward over two years later, and I'm surprised that the blog was sitting just fine in all that time, ready to pick up right where I left off (with a few aesthetic adjustments). Well, just to sate curiosity, let's see what kind of stats I did gather in my absence.

To be honest, there wasn't anything remarkable, except for one anomalous item: my original review of William Orbit's Hello Waveforms had gained nearly four times the amount of hits as anything else! What the hell? I knew spambot spikes sometimes artificially inflate numbers, but this was bizarrely out of the ordinary. Was it being linked from somewhere? Ah, sort of. Turns out the cover image was highly ranked in Google Image searches, which is kind of cool. Maybe someone even checked out the actual review too!

Oh God, I hope not. It's really one of the weaker ones I ever wrote, struggling to find anything of substance to say in the ol' track-by-track method. It's weird to think a high-profile release like a new William Orbit album would garner such mediocre reactions, but can any of you seriously recall much about it, beyond the nifty cover art? There was nothing sonically groundbreaking as he crafted during his Strange Cargo period, nothing charmingly indulgent as found on Pieces In A Modern Style, and certainly nothing as radio-ready friendly as his productions with Madonna and Sugababes. Instead, Hello Waveforms finds Mr. Orbit at a meeting ground between all three, with little offensive to the ears (unless you just can't stand girly vocals on Spiral and They Live In The Sky), yet even less you'll be compelled to reach for again if you're well versed in the world of chill out music. Except Who Owns The Octopus?, that one's still mint!

I wouldn't go so far as to say Hello Waveforms derailed ol' William's career, but boy was he ever forgotten about in the pop world shortly after, the promised 'upbeat' follow-up My Oracle Lives Uptown passing by with barely a blip (is it any good?). Trouble is music of this sort can easily drift through one’s head without much fanfare, an almost death knell when written about with a customary 6/10 score. There's a word for it... oh, what was it? Amiable? Charming? No, wait, I remember! Cordial! No, that's not it. Cheerful? G'ah, not it at all. It started a 'p', didn't it? Pleasing! Nope, something more like mild. Homey? Maybe congenial? Copacetic? What the hell does that even mean?

Whatever. Hello Waveforms is something like that, and has held up in an unassuming way. Not really a critical album to own, but pleasant enough. Hey, that’s the

DJ 3000 - Galactic Caravan (2013 Update)

Motech: 2009

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.)

Man, was I ever at the end of my wick when I wrote that review three years ago. It’s barely longer than what I impose upon myself now. I’d basically given up even trying to review new material by that point, so it’s surprising Galactic Caravan caught my attention enough to manage such a comparatively short review for TranceCritic by my standards. Guess hearing strong, straight-forward tech-house was such a breath of fresh air back then, I felt the album deserved whatever props it could get, even if on a soon-to-be-dead website.

Sadly, in writing such an unintentionally short review, I left out some other tidbits of info (or I just couldn’t be bothered to research further). For instance, the name DJ 3000 itself. Did you know that Frank Juncaj took the name from a Simpsons episode, the one where those idiot radio DJs who refuse to give Bart an elephant prize are threatened to be replaced by a similarly named machine. The DJ 3000 was such a technologically advanced contraption that it could reproduce any and all necessary inane jock-talk. Then again, maybe Mr. Juncaj just came up with it on the fly, but it was funny noticing it when I recently watched that episode again.

Another thing I’m surprised I neglected to mention was how the tracks on Galactic Caravan at times remind me of good ol’ Banco de Gaia, what with that bouncy, Middle Eastern vibe running through. Obviously not exactly alike, but enough that a namedrop wouldn’t have been out of place for yours truly, despite Marks and Juncaj being of totally disparate scenes. Festival hippies and Detroit head-bobbers, all joined in unison under one tent. Yeah, that’d be a kick-ass show. Talvin Singh can open.

That’s all I got. Yeah, nothing revolutionary or insightful to be found with this 2013 Update. Ain’t a whole lot more I can add, except the perfunctory “why this no more well-known?” complaint for ethnic-fusion tech-house. Juncaj hasn’t released any DJ 3000 follow-ups to Galactic Caravan in the LP form, though a smattering of singles came out on start-up label Contuse last year; compared to the blistering rate of mid-‘00s Motech material though, it’s almost as though ol’ Frank’s decided stepping back from the hustle of underground music business was a wiser course of action. Shame if he’d think thus, as he’s got a solid, unique sound that still has untapped potential.

Look, I know I’m rambling at this point. Too many morning shifts have rendered my sleeping habits utterly wonk, and while I can still muddle through half-decent reviews with fresh material (ooh, that Nine Inch Nails double-CD came in!), coming up with anything meaningful for a full 2013 Update on such a recent-but-unknown release is nigh impossible. I actually initially fooled myself into thinking I’d get away with a simple two-paragraph blurb, forgetting I’d written and uploaded a proper(ish) review here back when. Have I reached my quota yet? Close enough.

Miss Kitten & The Hacker - First Album (2013 Update)

Emperor Norton: 2001/2004

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.)

First, I was disappointed. Seeing a run of material I’d already written reviews for in my queue, there’d be little opportunity to challenge my creativity. Then, I was relieved. A good chunk of them were albums I’d already uploaded here way back, thus providing me with the excuse of proper 2013 Updates rather than a piddly pair of paragraphs. After, I sprained my left wrist at work. Typing is now an arduous chore as I muddle with a bulky brace and tender tendons. Do I slink away in defeat then, take Mother Nature’s insistence that I slow down to heart? Pah, I couldn’t slow down even if I tried. Damned Powerthirst addiction.

Anyhow, Miss Kitten & The Hacker. I concluded that original overlong review claiming First Album hadn’t dated in the four years after it’d been released. What about a dozen years though? Surely something that sounded intentionally retro has survived even a decade's worth of music (de)evolution. Nope.

Funny thing about the electroclash era is the music that emerged from that scene is forever tied to those years, especially in lieu of the fact almost all of those acts moved on or disappeared altogether. It worked back then because the style and substance was different and new, especially to a generation of electronic enthusiasts who'd missed the early'80s space synth and italo pop from which the nu-new wave groups drew influence (*cough*). As with all things retro-minded though, once the novelty wore off and nothing fresh kept it afloat, it forever dated the music to the early ‘00s. When I wrote that stupid-long review in 2005, electroclash still had a charming afterglow going for it, even if no one was making that particular strand of stripped-down electro anymore (oh, but did the sleaze ever persist; I should also mention much of the background information I wrote, while not exactly incorrect, barely does that scene’s influences and lasting effects justice). Listening to it now, however, that charm’s worn off, and all First Album has going for it is appreciation for the context from which it was sprung.

Actually, that’s only true if you take the album at face value, sniggering at all the oh-so coy irony and the like - that’s sure what I was doing for the first few tracks this time out. As First Album played through, however, I noticed a surprising level of depth to the music and deadpan lyrics. It isn’t super-deep or anything, but it’s there. Miss Kitten and Mr. Hacker created a world that’s more than just a parody of our own fascination with celebrity lifestyles and seedy culture. Rather, it’s a cutting indictment of the two, peeling back the glamour (or lack of) and revealing how empty, and thus similar, it all is. The sparse production and unemotional tone of Ms. Hervine’s voice perfectly sells the soul-crushing existence of Life On MTV, Stock Exchange, and Nurse. Or maybe I’m reading too much into it. Damned English courses.

Various - Fabric 48: Radio Slave (2013 Update)

Fabric: 2009

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.)

Um, yeah. This and 29 are the only Fabric mixes I have, both acquired for the purpose of review. As always, I have my reasons, and since you can follow that little link above to read my (not-so old) thoughts on Radio Slave’s contribution if you so wish, I shall now blather on about such reasons.

The thing about these Fabric CDs is they usually arrived new on Vancouver shelves with jacked-up import prices, upwards of the thirty dollar range (yes, that’s quite a bit for a CD here in Canada). I’ve been buying myself music for a good twenty years now, but personal purchasing power’s been poor for most of them, thus rendering my selections ofttimes rather picky. If I’m dropping nearly thirty for a single CD, it better be for something greater than ‘just another DJ mix’, especially at a time when freebies and podcasts are wildly available online.

Still, I’d occasionally splurge if I thought something should have coverage on TranceCritic, hence why I’d bought the Tiefschwarz mix, figuring it necessary for the website to finally jump on that wagon. Fortunately, a British chap by the name of Will Alexander joined our crew for a while, and he took care of the Fabric mixes afterwards, leaving me to instead cover twisted forest psy, or whatever. He only stayed for a year though, but when he left I saw no reason to carry on with TC’s Fabric reviews. They weren’t heavy traffic attractors (trancecrackers don’t like tech house, what?), and besides, I’d noticed a general trend developing with the releases: they made for incredibly boring reviews.

Always, there’d be plenty of pre-release hype, a good chunk of forum dwellers posting such thrilling, anticipatory comments like “Massive!”, or “Can’t miss!” or “This’ll be huge!” (plus an occasional dissenter). Then a website like Resident Advisor or Pitchfork would throw up their review, awarding it a customary six-to-eight out of ten, depending on the reviewer’s particular taste. Posters would cry “too low” or “too high”, then forget about it until the next edition. Rinse, repeat. Fabric was becoming just like Global Underground had: an avenue for solid yet unremarkable DJ mixes.

Okay, that’s a gross overstatement, as Fabric at least keeps its selection of selectors reasonably varied, but what else was there left to say about them? Almost every fresh angle had been covered with the series long ago, rendering reviews of new mixes little more than dutiful recaps. Well, there is one angle still…

Most of the old Fabric CDs can be found cheaply through Amazon now, many going for less than a tenner; ironically, my purchasing power’s never been better, so I can gorge on a bunch of them if I so choose. It might be fun to go back to a few and see how they’ve held up, whether to highlight an overlooked gem or eviscerate an overhyped flop. With so many out there though, which ones should I go after? Let me know in the comments!

Various - Echodub Loves, Vol. 2 (2013 Update)

Echodub: 2010

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review)

Oh hey, looky here. It's the last release I wrote a proper review of before I went on that two-plus year hiatus. Funny how it's also the last review for TranceCritic, and looks to remain that way. That website sure ended with a whimper, though I guess I'm partially to blame since I never did officially declare my writing tenure there to be over. I wonder if anyone still goes there expecting something new.

So what did happen, anyway? Sorry, nothing scandalous or the like, but with TC having not evolved much during the time I promised to commit, I saw little point in carrying on if it was just going to be me writing reviews; it’d be nothing but a glorified blog, and I already had a middling blog for myself at the time. More than that, however, was I found myself less and less interested in whatever the latest electronic music had to offer. My ears kept turning to the past, not so much for familiarity, but to unearth what I’d missed before, and what I could discover further back. Not exactly conducive to a website aiming for coverage of the latest releases.

“But, Sykonee,” you might have said back in the Summer Of 2010, “there’s plenty of great new music too!” Hey, I wouldn’t doubt you. Echodub Loves 2 certainly was proof of interesting things going on in the elsewheres of electronic music. Listening to it again today, I’m actually rather saddened dubstep didn’t explore these roads more, instead venturing further into bro or... whatever else it did in the UK. Or maybe it did, and I’ve been missing out on a bunch of great atmospheric material.

There entails the other frustration I had towards the end: being overwhelmed by releases, and never knowing what I should be listening to for coverage. I’m quite proud we were able to review such a wide range of electronic music at TC, but without ample manpower, it’s a self-defeating process when you don’t specialize. What gives precedent over something else? Do you buy into PR hype about what “will” be the next greatest thing? Not bloody likely, as almost every fucking release comes with such ridiculous marketing. Going through new releases becomes a chore, and the passion and enjoyment that comes from listening and writing about music evaporates. Ask any music journalist and they’ll likely tell you similar feelings of futility when swamped in promos; however, they’ll plug on, because that’s their job. TC was not my job (I sure didn’t get paid to write), but nor was it a hobby. Ultimately, it became an obligation, one I felt fulfilled after five years.

Of course, there was a lot of other bullshit I was dealing with that year too (2010 was not a happy funtime for yours truly), but that’s chit-chat for another time. As for Echodub Loves 2, I’m pretty sure it’s still available for free at the label’s website. Some good tracks available, you should check them out.

Sandoz - Digital Lifeforms: Redux (2012 Update)

The Grey Area: 2004

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review)

It's time for another edition of Sykonee Beats Himself Up Over An Old Review. Yeah, I self-deprecate mostly for jokes, but this time I'm serious. If there's one review out of all those old crummy ones I truly hate, it was the one written for Sandoz' Digital Lifeforms. Done during that awkward period where I still continued detailing track-by-track, made worse by the literal point-form of the second CD, it’s definitely a slog to read, but that’s not the whole of it. It sometimes comes off like I didn’t know what I was talking about, which was kind of true.

Anyone that spends plenty of time consuming music - of any genre - should acquire a good deal of knowledge about it in the process. So long as you never stop consuming, your knowledge base will continue expanding. I had a firm handle on most aspects of techno back then, yet I’ve learned much more since. It’s that absence of strong, informed facts regarding Richard Kirk’s influences that hurts my eyes the most. Sure, the liner notes were helpful, but I was utterly clueless as to what ‘Malian techno’ really meant.

That may be a moot point anyway. It’s not like I’ve gone and digested the entire musical history of Mali to truly appreciate Digital Lifeforms, as it’s not necessary. Understanding it, though, may have helped provide better insight into what it is about this album that just keeps getting better every time I throw it on.

Or maybe not. It's a feeling, that instinctive response one gets from music that's almost impossible to articulate. On a surface level, many things about Digital Lifeforms seems like it shouldn't work, that the production comes off hopelessly dated. Yet something about it always snags my attention, locking me into infectious grooves and harmonies. It could very well be the Kirk aesthetic, crisp but with grit; deliberate in its simplicity, allowing tracks to ebb and flow on their own merits.

It's why I despise the old review so much. I kinda-sorta touched on that aspect of Sandoz, but felt obligated to stick to 'journalistic writing', mostly ignoring my gut emotion about the music on hand and describe what occurs instead. One is taught not to write 'feeling' in journalism, as it's pure subjectivity. By that token, it's understandable why folks would prefer that format for music reviews, as all too often those trying to write reviews from a personal perspective end up lost in hyperbole and fail to offer anything insightful about the music. The best music writers I've come across capably blend the two extremes, going off on entertaining rants or interesting anecdotes while providing useful information pertinent to the release, all the while letting me, the reader, know exactly how they feel about what they're hearing.

After all, honest emotion is what we expect out of the musicians. Why not also expect the same out of those writing about those musicians' efforts as well?

Afrika Bambaataa - Dark Matter Moving At The Speed Of Light (2012 Update)

Tommy Boy: 2004

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.)

It’s time for a confession. I knew about Afrika Bambaataa within my first year of enjoying 'techno', even heard a couple tracks. I didn't know who he was though, until nearly three years later, and even then I had no idea of his legacy. I can only claim pre-internet teenage ignorance, but far as I was concerned, ol' Bam' was responsible for such euro-dance hits like Feel The Vibe and Feeling Irie, thus he was a euro-dance guy, but not as successful as major players like 2 Unlimited, Haddaway, or Culture Beat. Hang your head in shame, teenage Sykonee. Hang it low.

No doubt, that contributed to me covering Dark Matter Moving At The Speed Of Light for TranceCritic, as I hoped whatever trancecracker readers we acquired at the time would learn something about the Godfather Of Hip-Hop (a.k.a.: the Amen Ra Of Universal Hip-Hop Culture; a.k.a.: the Father Of The Electro Funk Sound; a.k.a.: the Grand Poobah Of Funky Vox; a.k.a.: the...). Sadly, it was one of my early stupid-long reviews, so who knows if my goal was achieved.

Where does this leave us now, nearing a decade on? Limbo, I guess. Make no mistake, this is still a solid album, even if the back-end drags, but it came out when crunk reigned supreme. The positive party vibe of Bambaataa’s music couldn’t cut it against the raw, sloppy aggression from Lil’ Jon’s factory. The other side of club culture didn’t pick up on this either. Only Metal got played out, though I suspect it was DJs making use of an updated version of a Gary Numan classic.

No matter what he does in the twilight of his career, Bambaataa’s legacy will remain intact. Cuts like Planet Rock and Looking For The Perfect Beat are guaranteed to play out for several years to come (hopefully without any silly trend-whoring remixes along the way). It’s just a shame his last proper album failed to carry on his resurgence brought about in the late 90s, when everything about its execution dictated it should have.

Or... I dunno. If folks won’t throw some love for Dark Matter, how about his euro-dance years? Yes, yes! Oh come on, how can you resist such goofy hoover fun like Pupunanny? What, you prefer that UB40 collaboration? An old roommate had that on vinyl. I wasn’t even tempted to hear it. Yeah, working with Fort Knox Five in recent years was definitely the wiser choice for ol’ Bam’s résumé. And of course there was Leftfield, James Brown, Uberzone, Adamski, Westbam, Black Devil Disco Club (no, not Black Rebel Motorcycle Club), several others...

Okay, ol’ Bam’s done good for himself. Do yourself good too and check this album out if you haven’t already.

Various - Dark Hearts 1: A Harthouse Compilation (2012 Update)

Harthouse America: 1995

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review)

So this was going to happen eventually too. I've already written a review for Dark Hearts, and it's already on this blog. What now? Well, if you're interested in the musical content, follow the link above to brave my early crummy writing. For this post, I'm going one-hundred percent anecdotal on your asses, so feel free to skip if tales of CD purchases bore.

In 1997, I was in full-blown trancecracker mode, having finally cast off all lingering eurodance interest but dismissive of anything outside the realm of energetic, acid space music. Unfortunately, my regular resource for it, the label Hypnotic Records, was no longer satisfying my need; hard German trance was fine for a while, but quite tired in ninty-seven. Seeing as how the internets proved useful in recommending material for my other ongoing passion of ambient dub, I fired up the ol' Webcrawler in search of lists of trance music.

This probably seems impossible to fathom for trancecrackers following the '99/2000 era, but finding info on trance wasn't so easy at that time. There was nothing like Discogs, no online radio stations or MP3 sharing, and wide publicity for the genre was still in its infancy, Oakenfold's ridiculously popular Tranceport more than a year away. I'd seen a few other compilations around like the Psychotrance series from Moonshine and the old Studio !K7 X-Mix videos, but wanted to dig a bit deeper. What would reveal itself to me on those old websites?

Eventually, I stumbled upon a site that not only listed a good hundred releases, but had even sorted them by genre. At the time, I was only aware of three types of trance: regular trance (re: underground/German), psychedelic goa trance (they were interchangeable far as I was concerned), and club trance. What the devil were all these other sub-genres? Progressive trance? Dark trance? Man, too much to remember, much less afford to buy. Moving on.

A couple months later, while browsing through one of my favorite music shops in Vancouver, I noticed a CD that I remembered from the 'dark trance' list, Dark Hearts. And hey, I recognized a couple names from other compilations I’d bought: Sven Väth and Alter Ego. Sure, I’ll give it a shot.

And lo, I threw that disc on back home, heard the opening haunting intro to Metal Master’s Spectrum, and instantly knew I’d made a purchase that would get heavy rotation from me for many years to come.

Dark Hearts pretty much closed the door on one aspect of German trance for me, and opened a whole new one, introducing me to such artists as Oliver Lieb, Pete Namlook, and Ralf Hildenbeutel. Anytime I noticed the Harthouse logo, I’d snatch that CD up. To say it was influential in developing my taste in trance music would be a vast understatement, easily ranking top five of such compilations were I to ever make such a list. And yet, that’s not quite the end of this tale...