BT - Movement In Still Life

ZYX Music: 2000

(a Patreon Reqest from Omskbird)

And thank goodness it's a request for the original UK version, not the busted-ass American version. I've let my dislike of Movement In Still Life: US Edition known, but I cannot reiterate enough just how much that version turned me off from BT's future output. Like, the cover shot alone felt confrontational to a connoisseur of the clubbing underground, Mr. Transeau pretty-boy mugging suggesting a run with boy-band fame and fortune. Throw in the fact tracks were neutered to pop-friendly lengths, plus lacking two of my hotly anticipated BT cuts at the time (Hip Hop Phenomenon and Fibonacci Sequence), and you can understand my utter bewilderment after my first playthrough. For a release that was clearly executive managed for max North American appeal, it had the exact opposite effect for yours truly. Epic fail, yo'!

When I heard an alternate, original version existed across the Atlantic Ocean, I knew, unheard, it was the superior cut of the album. Then global internet forums compared notes, confirming my suspicion of just how shafted American BT fans were on Movement In Still Life: Inferior Version. Unless some of y'all liked the US edition. For the love of me, I cannot imagine why. Too much awesome to handle in the UK edition?

That all said, it was many years before I got around to hearing Movement In Still Life: UK Edition, for no better reason than it was too expensive to import. In fact, it wasn't until I started revisiting some of BT's earlier albums for this blog that I finally checked it out, and wouldn't you know it, I quite enjoyed what I heard! Hip Hop Phenomenon is here! The Sasha collaboration Ride is here! The Paul van Dyk collaboration Namistai is here! The full-length versions of Godspeed, Dreaming, Mercury & Solace and Running Down The Way Up are here! Andy Gray is here! Wait, what?

Superior songs and superior cuts of tracks notwithstanding, what makes Movement In Still Life: Superior Version so good is the flowing sequencing of tunes, of which the Paul Oakenfold co-producer had a helping hand in. It supplies a fun opening of various breakbeat tuneage, nu-skool still in its infancy and BT still showing restraint in how overtly complicated he made his productions. Following Hip Hop Phenomenon, we're served up some requisite classy progressive trance, most of which holds up to this day. Fine, I'll admit I was never that big a fan of Dreaming, but mostly due to how overplayed the generic trance remixes were – the nine-minute cut here at least provides some stylish detours throughout its runtime. The final couple tracks do a decent job winding things down, with Hybrid lending their breakbeat science to BT's non-abusive stutter effects, and Satellite serving as a nice, mellow chill-hop closer.

Overall, Movement In Still Life: The True Version does a good job capturing what was popping in UK clubland at the turn of the century. Perhaps not as adventurous as ESCM was, but certainly more consistent throughout.

BT - R & R (Rare & Remixed)

Nettwerk: 2001

I'm far from a BT mark, but I cannot deny a double-disc collection of rare and remixed music from Mr. Transeau's back catalogue is a tasty offer. Some of his best music never made it to his albums proper, while other producers have given tracks brilliant rubs, outclassing the originals. Even better, this release came out shortly after Movement In Still Life, before all sorts of bullwark and unsense affected ol' Brian's music making ability. In plucking tunes from his earliest, obscure collaborations with Deep Dish and John Selway to the very (then) current cuts of his discography, R & R (Rare & Remixed) almost serves as an alternative greatest hits package. Oh, what the Hell, I declare this better than any kind of “Best Of BT” that could have surfaced covering the same ten years of his musical life, including 10 Years In The Life.

For one thing, CD2 has nearly every great nu-skool breaks tune Mr. Transeau ever had a hand in. Fibonacci Sequence is here! Hip-Hop Phenomenon is here! Smartbomb is here, and the kick-ass Plump DJs remix at that (best damn cut off WipEout: Fusion)! Um, that's about it, at least the ones I rate as his most essential breakbeat efforts – guess the Hybrid Remix of Godspeed is fine too, if you skew more the progressive trance way for your breaks fix. Point is, you won't find these on his albums proper, at least no official, non-special edition version in the Americas. And yet, here they all are on R & R, all lined up and decently mixed together. I told you this collection is mint!

Oh, you don't like BT Breaks. Fair enough, and as there's two discs worth of music here, there's heavier emphasis on his various takes on progressive house and trance anyway. Of course all the agreed-upon classics of his career make it on: Flaming June, Blue Skies, Dreaming, Anomaly, Remember, Sunblind. I personally don't rate all of these as highly as others, but damn if the versions on here don't kick some serious butt. Example: Tori Amos, bless her talented heart, has a tendency to grate after too much Blue Skies; that acid line in Mr. van Dyk's remix, tho'! And hey, it's a good version of Anomaly here, one that focuses more on acid than Jan Johnston's vocals. Hell, even Timo Maas treats Mr. Transeau's (questionable) singing in Never Gonna Come Back Down with some degree of class (re: shuffles them mostly out of the way early). Ooh, and we can't forget the Sasha collaborations either, Heart Of Imagination and the remix of Seal's It's Alive; no 2 Phat Cunts, unfortunately.

Probably the best surprise of R & R lies at the end of CD1 though, where two super-early, one-off BT collaborations lurk. Yes, I'm referring to those aforementioned Deep Dish and Selway singles, where you're treated to some bumpin' garage business. Never would you have expected to hear that on a BT CD, I wager.

BT - 今 Ima

Reprise Records: 1996

Ha ha, neener neener! For once, those of us on the west side of the Atlantic got a superior version of a major electronic album. Suffer, all you Europeans, with your single-CD version of BT's debut album Ima, and bask in our glorious 2CD edition. Not only does this re-release contain all the original's tracks and the Sasha mini-mix, but also extra remixes, b-sides, and that Tori Amos collaboration everyone over here went monkey-poop over. Yes, yes, I feel that envy, that glorious- huh? What do you mean you can simply order it online? What is this, man – like, the future? Why am I talking like it's 1996, duuddee?

Seriously though, Ima's an album that is hopelessly dated to the era it came from. Hell, some of it sounded dated even by mid-'90s standards, with 'Balearic' sounds that 808 State left to the bin years prior. Meanwhile, whatever the heck ‘epic house’ was, it only lasted for that brief period of time, producers soon moving onto other forms of prog as the new hotness (gotta keep progressin’, after all). So while Ima had quite a bit going for it when it came out, if you’re one of those cats that can’t stand anything firmly rooted in the ‘90s, you may want to stay away.

Oh, you’re still here? Ah, I get it. You discovered BT long after this came out, and all his long-time fans proclaim Ima as Mr. Transeau’s best album front-to-back. It’s the one you’re supposed to have, even if you’re not much of a BT fan, a shining example of the musical craft he’s capable of, many times after put to great use or utterly squandered in equal share. What sets Ima apart from most of his later efforts is the relatively narrow scope of genre he explores. Balearic, epic, progressive, acid, psychedelic... whatever, dude, it’s just house music; a little trance too.

For my money, the bangin’ tracks like Quark, Tripping The Light Fantastic, Poseidon, Embracing The Sunshine, and Divinity are where it’s at, but that’s because I loves me some gnarly TB-303 workouts, which BT displays an expert use of. It even helps elevate the cornier moments in Embracing and Divinity, the uplifting piano refrains, guitar strums, woodwinds, strings and nature sound effects given extra heft (and keeping them firmly out of tepid ‘dream house’ territory). The other tunes are fine as well, though with more vocals so if you just can’t stand those, maybe- oh, wait, this is early-early BT, where he doesn’t sing at all. Carry on, then. (gotta say though, hearing Tori Amos endlessly repeat “blue skies” grates after a while)

Ultimately, the funny thing about Ima is that, for a BT album, it doesn’t really feel like a BT album, not anymore. His muse has wandered in so many bizarre, brilliant and crap ways since, that compiling a straight-forward dance long-player just doesn’t seem like him. Given Ima’s status among many, however, maybe he should do that again someday.

BT - ESCM

Reprise Records: 1997

The inlay of BT’s sophomore album ESCM has the following printed out: “This recording is best suited to a nice pair of Sony MDR-7506 headphones.” Really? They’re good cans, but c’mon, those were the Dre Beats of the day - more of a fashion statement, especially within the DJ world. My Sennheiser HD650s are leaps and bounds better than the Sony model. Okay, that model didn’t hit the streets for half a decade after this CD came out, but what of the Sennheiser HD580s? They’d been around since ’93, and were considered the audiophile standard for headphones in the mid-hundreds price range. And BT’s saying even those won’t do with his album? Fuck you, Rick Berman.

Whoops, sorry. I’ve had Plinkett-isms stuck in my head lately. Still, a memorable bit from those Star Wars reviews at RedLetterMedia was producer Rick “Berman” going on about how CG technology allowed Lucas to create movies that are “so dense, [with] so much going on all the time.” Gee, sounds like someone else abusing technological capabilities, don’t it.

But hey, credit due where it’s deserved. Mr. Transeau created many sound effects himself, and as we’re dealing with ‘90s BT, the results aren’t as superfluous as his later efforts would end up. Case in point: Orbitus Teranium, a bare-bone bit of breakbeat supplemented with stutter and glitch effects at various points. In some ways, it’s nothing but a showcase of this technology, but as it capably serves the rhythmic momentum, it works. Most of the effects BT uses throughout ESCM are in this vein, and I’ve no problem with it, so long as the music it’s supporting can stand on its own. And that’s where ol’ Brian sometimes fumbles.

BT displays many influences and inspirations, but his songwriting can’t keep up. Opener Firewater is a perfect example, for the most part a solid “I can Enigma too” slice of world beat. Yet, at the back end of the track, BT suddenly chirps in with singing of his own, accompanied by folksy acoustic guitar strums and… wait, is this the same song? And… it’s already over. What was the point of that? Other instances crop up that are nothing but doodly bits of orchestral swells or piano tinkering because, hey, BT can play such music, but doesn’t know how to write a regular song around them. Then there’s Solar Plexus, the ‘rocktronica’ track even the most ardent BT fan scratches their head over. It’s nothing more than Mr. Transeau going “I can Trent Reznor too”, but what would Nine Inch Nails fans say about it? “Fuck you, Rick Transeau.”

Still, enjoyment outweighs the frustration. Flaming June’s a bona-fide classic, Jan Johnston’s contributions are pleasant enough, and early BT-Breaks are skill, three cuts of which we get. ESCM is considered a flawed gem, and perhaps BT realized this, using a mock-up of the 2001 Monolith for cover art. Or maybe he couldn’t clear the rights to the original as an image, resorting to a phonylith instead.

BT - These Hopeful Machines

Nettwerk: Cat. # 0 6700 30849 2 5 

Released February 2010 

Track List: 

Disc 1: 

1. Suddenly (8:06) 

2. The Emergency (10:53) 

3. Every Other Way (11:07) 

4. The Light Of Things (10:47) 

5. The Rose Of Jericho (7:43) 

6. Forget Me (9:38) 

Disc 2: 

1. A Million Stars (12:25) 

2. Love Can Kill You (5:22) 

3. Always (6:12) 

4. Le Nocturne De Lumiere (11:38) 

5. The Unbreakable (10:25) 

6. The Ghosts In You (7:57) 

IN BRIEF: These songs, I wish. 

I’m not going to proclaim to be anything of a BT expert. I sporadically enjoyed a number of his tunes from the 90s, was ready to proclaim him an incredible producer after hearing Fibonacci Sequence on Sasha’s GU: 13 mix compilation, then was mightily disappointed in the album Movement In Still Life. It sounded like an overcooked attempt at ‘electronica’, fully three years too late to be relevant; mind, it probably didn’t help I was exposed to the busted American version either. 

None of Mr. Transeau’s output interested me since that time (well, aside from the perverse curiosity of what an N’Sync collaboration would sound like …it sucked). Apparently I’ve missed out on some dizzying highs (This Binary Universe) and dilapidated lows (Emotional Technology), which I’m sure would affect my thoughts on this latest album to some degree. As it stands, however, perhaps going into These Hopeful Machines without hearing those may be a benefit, as I won’t be weighed down by those expectations, good and bad. 

Actually, that’s not entirely truthful. There’s already some expectation here, most of which derived from pre-release buzz, and a good deal of which was rather… sketchy. Word had it that BT was going the pop route again, and considering his last foray down that road - Emotional Technology - has been hailed as his worst album, a number of folks were leery about how this one was going to turn out. Well, pop is indeed what we get here, more than you’re likely to ever want. 

Look, I’ve got little problem with much of pop music, whether it’s bonafide classics (The Beatles, Abba, The Police, etc.) or cheesy dance (2 Unlimited, Snap!, just about any early-90s euro dance really); a good tune’s a good tune. And BT does know how to write a good tune. There are loads of catchy choruses on this album - Suddenly, The Light Of Things, and The Unbreakable all get lodged in my noggin, such that I’ve no problem falling sway to, plus enjoyable nuggets of music scattered throughout the rest of both CDs. The trouble is BT fills his music with so many gratuitous, pointless effects and wayward tangents, it dilutes and ruins any charm the hooks have. The word “restraint” seems to be a totally alien construct to Mr. Transeau. 

Let’s put it another way. Normally, someone would write a sentence thus: “The sky is blue.” 

Now, here’s the way BT would write it: 

“The- let me pause for a moment, as I wish to present to you a theory of the cosmic significance of the word ‘the’, as it relates to the number pi.” Three paragraphs later… “…anyhow, the firmament above, where the heavens so grand exist beyond a fragile veil of nitrogen, oxygen, carbon dioxide…” (every atmospheric element is listed at this point) “…contains a deep azure melding with various shades of cerulean, aquamarine, and blue, which is a color I love, you love, and we all must love, like a dove, for love is the grandest of loving feelings, a feeling of pure emotional nurturing sentiment, this love we love.” 

That’s what it’s like to listen to this album. It grows so tedious that anytime an effects-laden ‘solo’ emerges, I completely tune out until it finishes. I simply don’t care. Another thing that struck me is how BT seems to be playing catch-up with contemporary club music, including rounding up regular ‘trance’ vocalists like Christian “Will Shed Tears For Sunrise” Burns and Jes “You Still Remember ‘As The Rush Comes,’ Right?” Brieden. Perhaps most shocking is The Emergency, a collaboration with Anjunabeats regular Boom Jinx. It features side-chaining, thunk-clap rhythms, and very little point beyond trying to fit in with the current generation of mau5 clones. 

Elsewhere, The Rose Of Jericho style-bites old-school McProg beats and plinky-plonk hooks, turning in a track that works at the peaks but pointlessly piddles about to get there (Le Nocturne De Lumiere suffers for much of the same reason). The Light Of Things, perhaps one of the least offensive tracks in the overwrought-effects department, is basically your standard vocal trance outing - though I must admit it’s quite good compared to many other dismal attempts of the same type; there’s fun energy to be had here (the fact it’s a collaboration with Laurent Véronnez of Airwave fame probably helps). I’ll also add The Unbreakable works in this regard as well, although whenever I imagine the scene in which it’s likely to be played at - super lasers and smug superstar DJs urging a ravenous crowd to enthusiastically hop in one spot with a fist in the air - I get a cold chill down the back of my neck for some reason. It’s a very obvious, manipulative, calculated anthem, that one. There’s also a bunch of ‘rocktronica’ tunes and downtempo moments, most of which are quite derivative of the sound (Every Other Way? Meh, needlessly long). 

Aside from Suddenly (one of the few tunes that works provided you first edit out the effects wonk that bookends the track), the only one that stood out for me was the final track, The Ghost In You, for the simple reason that it’s one of the most restrained songs on the whole album. While I was first listening to These Hopeful Machines, a couldn’t help but wonder what a BT song would sound like if he stripped away all the production trickery and simply played acoustically. Well, I got my answer here and despite being a cover of 80s band The Psychedelic Furs, it still comes off as generic as many BT tunes goes these days, especially for a singer-songwriter ballad. 

I’ve no doubt there will be plenty of new fans loving this album, as it seems to be mostly geared towards a fresher crop of party kids who aren’t much aware of BT’s 90s output but are dazzled by superfluous special-effects (or those who simply enjoy unoriginal radio-ready melodies). If such is the case, so be it. I may throw Suddenly and The Light Of Things on as a guilty pleasure on occasion but the rest of These Hopeful Machines is quite forgettable. I’ll stick to the 90s BT, thank you very much. He at least had a better grasp of the word “restraint” back then. 

Score: 4/10 

ACE TRACKS: 

The Light Of Things 

Written by Sykonee, 2010. © All rights reserved.