HIA & Biosphere - Birmingham Frequencies

Headphone: 2000/2019

Bobby Bird had tagged with Geir Jenssen to the Norwegian's remote hometown for the Polar Sequences performance, which creatively turned out quite well for the two. I'm assuming, then, that the man behind HIA told the man behind Biosphere that should he ever find himself in his own Birmingham hood, he should check out his crib for another collaborative project. Two years after that Tromsø trip, Geir indeed found himself in the birthplace of ambient dub, so off with Bobby he went for another session of field recordings trips and music making magic.

Only... what sort of sounds would Mr. Jenssen gather? Birmingham is a rather stark contrast of location compared to the cold tundras that had come to define Biosphere's realm of sonic influence. Heck, even for a British town, Birmingham doesn't seem terribly interesting. I looked for it on a map, finding it stuck between where all the cool music locations are (to its north, the Big Three cities of the midlands; London to its south-east). I'm sure there's been a few famed names from there (Steve Lawler, Duran Duran, ELO ...UB40? Erm, no), but judging by the Google Earth images of industrial, brutalist architecture, it doesn't surprise me that budding musicians fled the city as fast as they could. Which makes the fact something like the ambient dub scene of the early '90s could even blossom in such a place all the more remarkable.

So out and about Birmingham Bird and Jenssen went, collecting samples and sounds such as geese in a river, building alarms, the reverb and echo of channel tunnels, and... Okay, what exactly are they doing in Augusta Road? It sounds like they grabbed a large stick and dragged it along wooden planks, which is amusing for a little, but did I really need to hear it to the extent we do here? Still, the sound of rummaging through brush, with it being manipulated in such a way that it becomes almost like white noise static, is a nifty little sonic trick. Plus, this track has one of the best examples of the two's unique styles playing off each other, an ultra-minimalist outing where Biosphere's echoing dub pulses serves as the rudder for HIA's playful dub bleeps to ride, and that's all. Just a shame about that obnoxiously loud tree-branch thingy.

There's only six proper tracks here (Daddylonglegs is but a pure field recordings interlude), wherein two apiece offer differing examples of music making. The aforementioned Augusta Road and Narrowboat do the minimalist thing, whereas Gas Street Basin and Midpoint have brisk HIA rhythms, with less featured samples driving things along. Cannon Hill and The Rotunda, on the other hand, sound more organic, especially with jazzier percussion in the latter and gentle acoustic guitar strums in the former. In fact, given how urban and claustrophobic much of Birmingham Frequencies comes across, Cannon Hill in contrast almost sounds pastoral. Well, until HIA's clickity rhythms enter. Gotta' let ol' Bobby get his stuff in, amirite?

Biosphere - Shenzhou

Touch/Biophone Records: 2002/2017

The ambient techno leanings had slowly been sifted away in Biosphere's body of work, but even as late as Cirque, you could hear trace elements still lingering in the music's DNA. With Shenzhou, such markers are basically gone, marking a turning point of sorts within Geir Jenssen's discography. More experimentation! More minimalism! More abstract sound-scapism! And a whole lot less drum machines, unless by way of sampled jazz loops. That trademark chilly atmosphere though, that can stay, even if it isn't so laser focused on space or tundra clime's.

I admit this period of Biosphere's work is mostly an enigma to me for this reason. Save Dropsonde (picked up because it just happened to be in the used store at the time) and some scattered tracks as found on Compilation 1991-2004, I never bothered to check any of it out, as it was the vintage ambient techno of yore that drew me into the Biosphere fold in the first place. When an artist says 'nuts to my past' in pursuit of creative freedom, I'm all for it, but that doesn't necessarily mean I have to follow their journey too, especially if I was only ever a casual fan in the first place. Or wait, was I? No, I'm pretty sure I was super-keen on Biosphere from the start, I just had little resources to find his stuff in my back-ass corner of Canadaland. Praise be The Internet!

It does make me wonder how I would have reacted to Shenzhou had Geir's music been consistently easier to find for yours truly. Like, coming into this with nearly twenty years of prepared hindsight (yes, I got this as part of his ongoing re-issue campaign), I know it's a different album than Patashnik or Substrata. I didn't know what kind of different it would be – certainly not Dropsonde different – but certainly a change of musical direction. I definitely didn't expect to be so heavily influenced from Wolfgang Voigt's Gas project.

Was this a major thing at the time? For sure Gas got a whole lot of critical praise for his manipulated orchestral-sample drone loops, even as far as Pitchfork recommendations (back when such a thing was the ultimate in hipster cred'). It had to set off some trends, even if in smaller circles. Not that Geir would be a chaser himself, but I'm sure he took a listen to Pop and thought, “Hmm, I have some old orchestral records. I could do something like that, in my own way.”

I suppose that's why Shenzhou falls more into the 'interesting' area of Biosphere's body of work rather than the 'captivating' category I prefer. Yes, it's interesting hearing these orchestral loops ebb and throb, even the aged crackle of the used vinyl becoming as much part of the atmosphere as artifacts of archaic technology. Plus, there's always that omnipresent atmosphere of lurking menace, creeping in the shadowy recesses of your mind. A journey inward then, rather than Biosphere's explorations of the world outward.

HIA | Biosphere - Polar Sequences

Beyond/Biophon Records: 1996/2019

I'm not sure which I figured would be more difficult to attain, this or The Fires Of Ork. For sure almost any Biosphere collaborative project seemed elusive to my isolated eyes, but I always had a sense that maybe, just maybe, I'd land me a copy of Geir's team-up with Bobby Bird. The label that initially released Polar Sequences was Beyond, they of the seminal O.G. Ambient Dub series, and I'd landed myself a couple of those CDs, not to mention later albums via domestic distribution. Logically then, odds were good that this would see a domestic release. Unfortunately, Beyond's time was up, and only a few thousand copies of Polar Sequences were made, a rather small amount back in those days. Mind, not so limited as Fires Of Ork initially ran, but that saw a number of re-issues down the road, whereas this saw but one when Bobby Bird tried launching his own label, Headphone. It didn't pan out so well. Too ahead of his time, mayhaps? I mean, it's not like Geir's Biophon Records is much different in concept, and man, what a roll he's been on with the reissues, eh?

In a strange way, it's only fitting that HIA and Biosphere would team-up. During the rise of bleep-affected ambient techno, these two were odd men out, name-dropped as part of the Artificial Intelligence contingent, but never signing deals with Warp Records. It likely helped them carve out distinct voices within that scene, but nothing to suggest they'd mesh in any significant way. Which makes Polar Sequences all the more strange. Yeah, bringing Geir back to his homeland for a musical performance was a given, but Bobby too? What could he contribute to the Polar Music Festival? Maybe they were just vibing at the time, and Mr. Jenssen wouldn't do the gig without Bird in tow.

So to Tromsø they headed, about as remote a location in Norway as one can get without crossing significant Arctic waters. They took a little cable-car to the top of a mountain, recording things and sounds along the way to be used in their performance. Once there, and with small contingents of Nor-folk funnelling into the little hilltop cabin, HIA and Biosphere fused their muses into a suitably cold, brisk collection of dubby electronics, brittle melodies, and cavernous field recordings. And hoo, I could never have imagined their styles would mesh so fluidly.

Bird mostly handles the rhythm end of the music, which is great because HIA's beatcraft was forever on point for downtempo tunes. That leaves Biosphere the atmospherics, where his icy dronescapes have ample breathing room within Bird's dubby electro. As with Fires Of Ork, there are clear sections where one producer's style dominates over the other, but always in service of the particular composition being performed. That Meltwater though, holy cow, is that ever pure Geir, almost entirely field recordings of being trapped by a trickling stream inside a collapsing glacial cavern. The germination of Substrata definitely starts here.

The Fires Of Ork - The Fires Of Ork

Fax +49-69/450464/Biophon Records: 1993/2000/2018

Hot damn, Geir's gone and done it! Like, I saw no reason why he couldn't if he wanted to, as the Namlook estate's been quite generous in sharing music rights with previous collaborators of Mr. Kaulmann. For some reason though, I felt The Fires Of Ork was the holy grail of Biosphere projects, the original album released between Microgravity and Patashnik, when Geir still had an inclination towards techno's rhythmic pulse. He was so swift in moving on from music with a little dancefloor groove, it's clear it wasn't a sound he was terribly fond of revisiting, even in a reissued format.

Even the whole Fires Of Ork project seemed nothing more than a one-off pairing, Pete Namlook and Biosphere heading off in rather different paths shortly after. Pete had found his niche (relentless work-rate, endless collaborations, label management), Geir had found his (icy minimalist ambient with expansive field recordings), and that was that, The Fires Of Ork just another of the multitude of very interesting projects to have passed through the Fax+ studios.

And an interesting album The Fires Of Ork is, if for no other reason to hear just how much each performer's style meshes, mashes, and mixes with the other. The titular opener and closer does the ambient 'bleep' techno thing that you'd associate with Phase 1 Biosphere, but has that spacey trancey vibe so distinct of early-era Namlook (plus: ear-wormy Blade Runner sample – dude loved him some Blade Runner samples). Meanwhile, Gebirge attempts a vintage twenty-minute Fax+ ambient excursion, but Pete and Geir's sounds and arrangements are so minimalist, it doesn't feel like it goes much of anywhere. Faring better is the straight-forward light trance of Talk To The Stars, and the eighteen-minute chill-out session of The Facts Of Life, where the distinct sounds of each player actually complement each other as though hearing two musicians feeding off their contributions.

While The Fires Of Ork was interesting for what it added to the Fax+ legacy, it was a small surprise that Pete and Geir teamed-up again in the year 2000 for The Fires Of Ork 2. Though not incompatible, it was clear from The Fires Of Ork there wasn't much room for music exploration between their differing ambient styles. Half a decade on, and both definitely having evolved since the early '90s, where would their muses meet for another session?

Leaving the 'bleep techno' well behind, that's for certain. Compared to the paranoid sci-fi tone of the first album, The Fires Of Ork 2 is very mellow, Biosphere's open, minimalist approach mostly dominating. Pete works in some nice pad work in In Heaven, while Sky Lounge sounds like we're chilling near an Ibizan shore with the rings of Saturn hovering over the shoreline, but we're in pure mood music territory with this album. Well, except Nouvelles Machines, which has a weird dubby, clicky noise with sparse electronic bleepy-beeps befitting a retro sci-fi movie. Can't shake those 'bleep techno' roots, I guess.

Biosphere - Compilation 1991-2004

Biophon Records: 2012/2017

Now isn't this just a right dandy little item Geir Jenssen's given us. As Biosphere, he released few actual albums throughout his first fifteen years of music making, but each one was a bonafide classic of ambient and frigid techno, making fans squirm and itch for more material. There were collaborations with Pete Namlook (Fires Of Ork) and Higher Intelligence Agency, but if you fancied yourself a true Biosphere completist, you'd have to do some serious sleuthing and digging, many tracks exclusive to compilations littered among his discography. Some of these weren't too hard find – even I could find copies of Trance Europe Express 3 on my local store shelves – but chances are you'd have to come from the hinterlands of Norway to snag yourself a copy of Nova Norvegia – (Get) Into The Arctic Groove. To say nothing of the outright obscurity of a Denmark museum collection in Krydsfelt – Norpol. I imagine even the peer-to-peer juggernauts of old had trouble tracking that one down.

Well fuss no more, Biosphere Completists, for Geir has gathered all his wayward offspring between the years 1991 and 2004 into a tidy 2CD compilation, titled, um, Compilation 1991-2004 - doesn't beat around the lichen moss, does it? Of course, if you really want to fancy yourself a true-proper Biosphere Completist, you'll still hunt down all those CDs these tracks were sprung from. For sensible people though, this will suffice.

Although, having listened through this now, I wonder if Compilation: My First Fifteen Years has any appeal beyond only the most die-hard Biosphere disciples. There's no denying Mr. Jenssen's frigid oeuvre can leave some folks cold (hah!). Yet whether you prefer his bleep techno beginnings, desolate field recordings, or looping drone, few come away from his work without at least thinking, “Hm, that's interesting.” And this double-discer touches base on all these aspects, but if you were coming in here looking for brilliant exclusives that never made an album cut, you've come to the wrong place indeed.

There isn't much from his techno days, opener Hypnophone the lone cut with any sort of beat among these fifteen tracks. The Third Planet and The Seal & The Hydrophone (Geir has a fascination for hydrophones) do the bleep ambient thing that marked his second album. By four tracks in though, we're already in the year 1997, when the minimalist abstraction really started taking hold of the Biosphere muse. Knives In Hens and Superfluid features some of the most experimental samples and drones Geir's ever produced, tediously so. At least the gentle ambience of Bird Watching and Sun-Baked end CD1 on a pleasant note.

CD2 is generally more consistent, as Mr. Jenssen's figured out how to craft his abstraction sampling into compositions with direction and focus, despite sometimes taking forever getting there (such a lonely road in Vi Kan Tenka Digitalt, Vi Kan Tala Digitalt). If you can't mess with ultra-minimalism though, well, you probably haven't bothered with post-Millennium Biosphere anyway.

Biosphere - Cirque

Touch/Biophon Records: 2000/2016

I never thought I'd own a copy of this album. Hear it as some point, sure, as most things old and adored eventually find their way onto streaming services. I might have even bought a digital version - that pile of hay growing on my back can only stack so high. But lo', I stumbled upon an online shop that had actual physical copies of Cirque available, after which I remembered that Microgravity had seen a recent CD re-issue. It didn't occur to me that Geir Jenssen would do the same for his out-of-print material from Touch, but thank lawdy he did, Cirque finally within my grubby hands. Now, about those Namlook and HIA collaborations...

I get ahead of myself. Cirque came out in the year 2000, the fourth official body of work Mr. Jenssen solely released under the Biosphere banner. Not if you include his score for the movie Insomnia, that is. No, not the Christopher Nolan flick with Pacino and Robin Williams; the original Norwegian version from which it was inspired from. Yeah, I can dig the Biosphere stylee fitting with a murder thriller set in the endless day of northern summer. Prior to that, he'd released a little instant-classic by the name of Substrata, to say nothing of his seminal ambient techno work earlier. Tough acts to follow, but considering Cirque is held in the same lofty alpine palaces as its predecessors, there must be something to it.

As with Substrata, the gradual move from pulp sci-fi towards earthly tones is evident in Cirque. You still get that icy, isolationist vibe though, like out in the remote reaches of wintery European realms, though Alaskan can do in a pinch (Cirque has a dedication note to Christopher McCandless, a backpacker that tried to traverse the Alaskan frontier – it didn't go well). Thus we get titles like Nook & Cranny, Miniature Rock Dwellers, Black Lamb & Grey Falcon, Algae & Fungi, and Too Fragile To Walk On. Because if you're inspecting the fauna of Biosphere's homestead, you're likely not to find much else more riveting than lichen.

And like Substratra, that sense of remoteness is accentuated by the minimalist approach Geir applies his craft here. For sure the music sounds full and immersive, but so often impossibly distant too. Nook & Cranny lazily lopes along with a dubbed-out rhythm as gentle strums echo towards the horizon. Le Grand Dôme gets a little groovier and bassy in its beats, but is no less obscured by its dub treatments. Iberia Eterea works in some jazz shuffle with its cold, precise melodies. Even the brisk d'n'b rhythms of Algae & Fungi are strangely obscured by their distant tone, despite their reverb enveloping you as though you're hearing it inside an ice cavern.

Throw in some tasty 'traditional' Biosphere tunes as a bonus with the 2CD re-issue, and you've another mesmerizing piece of work in Geir's discography. Makes holding out for a physical copy that much sweeter for your truly.

ACE TRACKS: November 2015

Well, that was a fun little trip through music seldom covered here. It was fun, wasn’t it? Well, whatever the case, you are rest assured I won’t be doing something like that again, at least as my music collection currently stands. Oh, there will definitely still be the odd quirky, week-long venture into the unexpected, but nothing that entails so much country and rock ‘best of’ CDs. Who even buys such things anymore? It’s all about the online stream, mass torrent dump, or collector’s box sets these days. Anyhow, since I’ve done a technical alphabetical backtrack in my reviewing queue, I’ll be going through another little string of releases before resuming my endless sojourn through ‘S’. Nothing much, just a few DJ-Kicks mixes I picked up on the cheap. The rest of my backlog will have to wait for after revisiting System 7’s debut, which should come around before the year’s out. I hope.

Until then, here’s the ACE TRACKS I’ve enjoyed this past November.



Full track list here.

MISSING ALBUMS:
David Bickley - Still Rivers At Night
Purl - Stillpoint
Jesper Dahlbäck - Stockholm Mix Sessions & 2

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 0%
Percentage Of Rock (and country): 23%
Most “WTF?” Track: Dr. Hook & The Medicine Show - Freakin’ At The Freaker’s Ball (should be an anthem at every fet-life event)

Reviewing so much different non-electronic music probably doesn’t do any favors for a blog called Electronic Music Critic. On the other hand, it does make putting these playlists together more fun, finding out what unexpected music makes for remarkable bedfellows. Why obviously moody drone ambient must follow (Don’t Fear) The Reaper!

A shame some of the more obscure ambient didn’t make the Spotify cut, but there’s a decent enough assortment of tunes throughout this to keep one engaged, plus a big ol' chunk of ambient at the end. You can’t beat a combination of Faithless, M.I.K.E., Sub Focus, and Loverboy for your instant earworm love. And hey, a little dub techno thrown in don’t hurt either, eh?

Biosphere - Substrata²

Origo Sound/Touch: 1997/2001

The only Biosphere album you're supposed to have, even if you're not a Biosphere fan. What an odd thing to say, considering most point to his first two albums, Microgravity and Patashnik, as the classic Biosphere stylee. But then Geir Jenssen had to go and make a classic ambient LP with Substrata, all but cementing his legacy as one of the premier acts in the genre. Okay, he already had done that, though not everyone was into the sci-fi bleep techno either. When you go full-on ambient though, with the pads and the layers and the drones and the field recordings, you get the attention of all ambient heads, from the Eno old-schoolers to the Namlook nu-stylers, and all the savvy Roach-Orb-Obmana disciples between.

Specifically, Substatra marked a significant change in how Mr. Jenssen treated his Biosphere project. Instead of crafting music with a sci-fi, futuristic bent, he set his sights closer to home, grounding his compositions within our earthly domain, and localizing them deep within his native lands of northern Norway. This is dark, moody ambient that glows bright within the reflections of crackling fires against snow covered fields. This is spacious ambient as heard echoing off jagged, glacial mountains. This is intimate, melancholic ambient, absorbed while huddled in a lonesome cabin outpost during the dead of Arctic Circle winter, aurora borealis cascading across Ursa Major and Casseopeia. These are all metaphors and similes that have undoubtedly been oft repeated when describing Substrata since its release nearly two decades ago. I want my kick at the can though, darn it all.

Substrata is essential ambient, of that there’s no doubt. It’s one of the most unique offerings of the genre, and responsible for many future attempts at emulating droning winter chill. However, that isn’t the album you’re supposed to have. No, that would be this 2001 version, Substrata², which includes a remastering of the original, plus a second CD containing the two bonus Japanese tracks, and score work for an old-timey Russian silent film Man With A Movie Camera.

The latter came about when Geir was approached by the Tromso International Film Festival to write a new soundtrack to the 1929 original, I suppose to give a modern interpretation based on film-maker Dziga Vertov’s notes. Though they share similar aesthetics, Man With A Movie Camera is more abstract than Substrata, and probably makes better sense when viewed with the film. Meanwhile, the Japanese tracks are more like Biosphere’s earlier works, The Eye Of The Cyclone doing the upbeat sci-fi ambient techno thing, while eleven-minute long Endurium going for the slower, downbeat take on that style. Both sound like they were works Geir produced before abandoning beats altogether for Substrata proper. As b-sides though, these are mint.

Anything else I write here is elementary. If you haven’t heard Substrata yet because of some preconceived doubts of its brilliance, let my voice add to the choir that the hype is justified, and spring for the double-disc version while you’re at it.

Biosphere - Patashnik

Apollo: 1994

Patashnik is very much a transitional album for Geir Jenssen, which is odd considering it’s only the second Biosphere release in a discography that includes some dozen or so LPs. Even this early in his career though, the man from Northern Norway was looking beyond the ambient techno he helped define, away from the dance floors and chill-out rave tents and towards more noble pursuits like film scores and art galleries. Well, at least a Levi advertisement, the single Novelty Waves earning him some extra coin for its usage in a jeans commercial. And why not? With its groovy techno beat and stone-cold electro sounds, can you think of a better soundtrack for Depression Era Mid-West America? Wait, what?

What I’m getting at here is, while Microgravity’s rave roots were inescapable, Patashnik doesn’t indulge in them as often. Even when Jenssen does make a dance floor friendly track, it comes off as lip-service, many of his rhythms rudimentary as far as techno of the time was concerned. The aforementioned Novelty Waves is definitely one of the stronger beats found here, but Seti Project is little more than standard high-energy trance. You’d think ‘trance’ and ‘Biosphere’ would be a match made in arctic heaven, yet there’s little in Seti Project that you couldn’t find on dozens of Eye-Q or MFS records. Meanwhile, the titular cut doesn’t sound far off from an early Aphex Twin leftover, Botanical Dimensions carries on the ‘bleep’ techno movement in a quietly subdued manner, while Caboose and The Shield are essentially recycled ambient dub grooves. At least Decryption’s slow ambient techno pulse far better serves the Biosphere stylee than the rest of these tracks. Not that the melodies, synth sounds and song craft contained in all these tracks are bunk, but the rhythms oddly date Patashnik even more so than Microgravity’s offerings.

The ambient compositions, however, sound like they were intended for an entirely different album. Opener Phantasm is all kinds of creepy with children intoning they had shared dreams, and a melody sounding like an off-key radar-ping metronome only adds to the eerie atmosphere. Following that, Startoucher is endlessly desolate and cold, even with a charming bit of dialog about reaching out to the stars at night - you just know ol’ Geir was inspired by the dead of Tromsø winter on this one. Further along the album, Mir takes you to the lonely Russian space station, while En-Trance is… a completely different track from everything else under the Biosphere banner to that point. Gentle, strumming guitars? What are you trying to do, Geir, make ‘real’ music or something? Because you’d be totally awesome at it!

Despite the differing styles of music on Patashnik, they’re all arranged such that it makes for an agreeable listen from start to finish – Jenssen knows how to sequence an LP, even if he only has a general theme to build upon. Following this one though, he’d tighten his inspirations up to such a degree, he’d leave several ambient classics in his wake.

Biosphere - Microgravity

Origo/Apollo: 1991/1992

Such an important album, this. Biosphere practically came out of nowhere, making his mark on a fledgling ambient techno scene before it had established itself as a distinct genre – most still referred to 'ambient with a kick' as ambient house, since The Orb was about the only act with enough clout to set trends. Microgravity didn't even get much notice at first, initially being released in Geir Jenssen's native Norway on Origo Records. Within the following year though, he was signed to seminal ambient techno label Apollo, bringing him greater exposure as he rubbed shoulders with other future stars of the genre like Aphex Twin and David Morley. And because this is such a quirky fun-fact, yes, Microgravity technically beat Selected Ambient Works 86-92 to the shops. Why isn't Biosphere more commonly name-dropped, then? UK press bias?

Whatever the case, this album remains one of the lasting curiosities of the early rave scene. Mixing space ambient and astro-chatter with house and techno wasn’t new, but Jenssen brought a fresh perspective to the formula. For one thing, he played things entirely straight, in that our ventures into the cosmos should be treated with gravitas – that the vast outer reaches of the endless black beyond can be a cold, desolate place we should respect and even fear. That icy tone went on to become something of a Biosphere trademark, but at this primordial stage in ambient techno development it was a stark contrast to the cheary, optimistic outlook most of his peers approached the subject with. Guess living in a region with long, cold winter nights will do that to a chap. Adding to that sense of emptiness are dub effects, sometimes cribbed from The Orb’s approach but also applied to Jenssen’s choice of sci-fi synths. The bell tones of Cloudwalker sound impossibly vast, and all the more alien with eerie melodies worming their way about.

Still, this is an early ‘90s album, and Microgravity does share some common traits with rave music of the time. For one thing, the UK ‘bleep techno’ sound is all over this, which makes sense since it was the hot new trend for producers aiming for a little ‘intelligence’ in their tracks (FSOL, LFO, Bobby BLO). Jenssen also can’t help adding in a few rave riffs (The Fairy Tale), standard dance beats (Chromosphere) and ethnic samples (Cygnus-A) here and there, instantly dating Microgravity to the era it sprung from. Meanwhile, the crisp looping samples, while giving these tunes a distinct flavour, shows Jenssen had yet to refine his production into something more musically flowing.

Of course, these attributes are all plusses for folks who can’t get enough of early ambient techno, roughness, warts and all. I’ve even seen a few bemoan the fact Jenssen took his Biosphere work away from the realms of techno groove so soon after Microgravity, but even here one can tell he was looking beyond what that scene offered. Remarkable aspirations for a guy who helped define a genre.

Biosphere - Dropsonde

Touch: 2005/2006

Pretty much the Godfather of Scandinavian chill-out, this Geir Jenssen fellow is. I’m sure there were others who were making European Northland ambient before him, but Biosphere endeared himself to a young rave scene, finding a comfortable niche within the realms of early ambient techno and dub. As the years wore on, he kept his sounds unique and fresh with each album while maintaining a distinct icy-ambient style entirely his own. His first few albums are often hailed as stone-cold classics for discerning chill-heads, many modern ambient producers in Norway, Sweden, and Finland citing Mr. Jenssen as a significant influence (I’m looking at you, Ultimae All-Stars!). And while his current output doesn’t garner nearly the same amount of notice as his ‘90s heyday (influence breeds multiple new options), that doesn’t mean Biosphere’s gone quietly into the night as a new generation takes over. Well, okay, maybe a little quietly. This is ambient we’re dealing with, after all.

I suppose with Wolfgang Voigt’s Kompakt print getting all the critical love in the mid-‘00s, ol’ Geir thought it was about time for a stab at Voigt’s ambient-drone work as Gas. Autour De La Lune was a start, and Dropsonde continued this minimalistic exploration, tracks often looping into sedative works of drone, even with occasional rhythms. Essentially three types of compositions are on this album: music guided along gentle key tones that are reminiscent of Steven Halpern’s seminal (if a tad sappy) Spectrum Suite work; future jazz stylee that wouldn’t sound out of place on an obscure Shadow Records release; and straight-forward loop-drone that rides along synth pads and dub effects. As per the Universal Law Of Good Album Flow, these various tracks are nicely paced between each other, letting the listener immerse themselves in one style before taking in another. For instance, opener Dissolving Clouds is a key tone one, followed by Birds Fly By Flapping Their Wings’ going all groovy while riding looping hi-hats, then Warmed By The Drift comes through with, um, warm pads by a crackling fire in a snow-covered forest setting (probably). I shouldn’t have to tell you what fourth track In Triple Time features.

There honestly isn’t much more to say about Dropsonde. It’s a perfectly fine album of tastefully explored abstract ambient, but not a huge standout for that scene at large. While a few sounds and chord changes remind me of Jennsenn’s other works, it’s not as instantly identifiable as albums like Microgravity or Substrata. Thus Dropsonde gets a bit lost in the overall Biosphere discography, though the lovely cover art does help it stand out more than its surrounding abstract neighbors. For all the new musical roads Jennsenn explored during the ‘00s, they were still well traversed by others. Most of the sexy talking points regarding Biosphere comes from the ‘90s, which I’ll get to eventually – I don’t want to waste too much limited word count bigging up Patashnik or Substrata before I talk about them. Besides, it sells Dropsonde short in the process.