Cymphonic - Dimensionata

Databloem: 2013

Diving deep into Databloem can seem daunting. Yeah, plenty recognizable names have passed through the label's doors over the decades, but I'm talking about all the other names that have come and gone. Your Danny Kreutzfeldts, your Krzysztof Orluks, your Beta Two Agonists, and so on. Of course, you never know who might make it far in this niche business – I doubt anyone had a clue that Daniel Pemberton kid would become a player in Hollywood when he debuted on Fax+ as a teen. Still, its understandable why some artists get bypassed, never gaining the name recognition that comes with a fruitful career. Only to be rediscovered long down the road when folks start truly digging into a long-lasting label in a flurry of “How did we miss this?” excitement.

I'm not saying Stanley Swinkel's Cymphonic project is one such example, but man, listening to his final record Dimensionata, I could see it happening. He didn't release much, just a handful of items on Databloem, but if they're as interesting as this one, they gotta' be worth scoping out.

It isn't even like he's doing something revolutionary or unique with his ambient excursion here, but it's somehow quite captivating for the hour-plus time it plays through. That's not such an easy feat as you'd believe, always those moments in LP-length ambient sessions that will have your attention drifting this way or that. Does it sound like I'm praising a singular track? Yes, because that's what Dimensionata is, even though it's not.

There are separate tracks on here, eleven ranging from three to fifteen minutes in length (mostly on the shorter end). You can hear when each track starts and ends, as there will be a distinct tonal shift between them. Yet everything flows so seamlessly together, you'll swear it's all the same piece with different segments. I know the easiest comparison would be something like an old, lengthy Berlin-School jam, but even those would be structured around a singular concept. Dimensionata is somehow like that, but each segment stands unique from the other, as a skipping session clearly illustrates.

Primavera features ethereal harps and meditative chants, Weaving makes use of distant operatic voices over minimalist pads, Alignment Of Realities grows ominous with dark ambience, Dancing In Purple Light brings tranquil levity with spritely arps, and so on and so on. As described, each piece sounds perfectly fine on their own, yet I can't imagine listening to any of them outside the context of this album as a whole. Yes, that makes Dimensionata the Ace Track of this review, even though it's not a singular track in of itself.

But is it any good though? Well, if you like your ambient music subtle and full of humble grace, absolutely. Whether its a true Hidden Gem of Databloem, you'd have to ask someone who's consumed the label's entire catalogue. From what I've heard out of the print, however, it's definitely one of the more fascinating listening experiences I've had.

Canopy Of Stars - Darkness And Light

Databloem: 2022

I do wonder what Databloem's legacy is at this point. What felt sort of like a proving ground for up and coming ambient, glitch, and chill techno producers has been supplanted by many more upstarts in the decades since the label's birth (a hefty chunk managed by Lee Norris, no less). You didn't need an album on Databloem to get prominent recognition in the scene at large, but it sure was a nifty feather in the cap for many producers. Yet though their output hasn't waned by any stretch, I sense there hasn't been as much of a rush to push product out since they finally surpassed one-hundred releases (only took twenty years). They've basically proven whatever it was that Dennis Knopper set out to prove (giving Anthony Kerby a place to shine when nowhere else would? Original manifesto seems fuzzy now), so every year is another victory lap.

That don't mean some ambient folks wouldn't like having their music on the label though. Indeed for some, it may still serve as something of a big break. While by no means an utter unknown, Christian Wheeldon mostly settled on self-releasing his Canopy Of Stars material for much of the alias' early career. He did get a tune or two on some reputable compilations from Touched and ...txt, and even provided a remix for an Autumn Of Communion track. Dream Sequence was his first album out on a label not of his own making though, Databloem giving him the green light to do so (including a green coloured cover!). This here Darkness And Light is his follow-up for the label.

There's no denying we're in for a space ambient excursion with this album, but what if I told you it was some real retro space ambient? Like, '80s era space ambient? Heck, maybe even '70s style, though Mr. Wheeldon's synths are far more refined than what you'd hear out of ol' school Vangelis. Nay, I hear more of that Hearts Of Space stylee in his work, bright and shimmery as the best of Kevin Braheny could provide. And opulent, oh my God is this stuff ever overflowing with the kosmiche grande. Some tracks, like the titular cut (and longest at a dozen minutes), are almost mini-albums in themselves, going through multiple movements as though a megamix of various themes from a planetarium show.

All well and nifty for genre connoisseurs, but what pushes this album just a little extra for me are the sporadic Orbital nods. Okay, I'm probably the only one hearing little Hartnoll Brothers riffs in tracks like Mist On The Water and Shinjuku Sunset. Wouldn't surprise me if Christian had more influence from ELO than Orbital in those cases (you can sure hear it in On My Way). Either way, it gives Darkness And Light enough pizzazz keeping it from being a strict exercise in '80s space synth. And quite an exceptional body of music compared to the more minimalist stuff I recently purchased from Databloem.

Yamaoka - Time To Time

Databloem: 2013

Had I come to this album when I first discovered Yamaoka, I could have claimed something like “finally wrapping up his Databloem trilogy”. Assuming I'd already gotten Short Films For Long Days and Simple Songs with Purl, that is. Turns out, merely a month after I dropped a review of the latter, Kenichi dropped another album on Databloem. And then another just last year. And another-another just last year with Purl. So, y'know, good on me being tardy with this discography and all, otherwise I'd have written a completely outdated review of Time To Time, and who'd want to read that?

Actually, I'm a bit surprised Yamaoka's returned to Databloem so often – that label isn't really known for a roster of steady contributors. Indeed, artists come and go from its catalogue like travelling troubadours, releasing an album or three while gallivanting off with their own labels or regular side-hustles.

I know this is far from the case, but since taking in a fair sampling of Databloem's output, it strikes me as something of a 'proving ground' for ambient techno artists abroad. Yeah, you may have a dozen releases on some obscure net-label, but if you get your shit on this label, you've definitively become a made ambient-man within the scene at large. You only need a couple records with them to achieve such status before being set off into the wider world abroad. And here's Yamaoka, throwing my theory out the window by having half a dozen releases on Databloem in nearly a decade's time. Curse you, Kenichi, for ruining my head-canon!

Anyhow, Time To Time is where he made his debut with the label, I assume after shopping around following the folding of his previous two homes, Secret Station and Somehow Recordings. I cannot deny being hit with massive deja-vu on this album's opener, Orion, as it starts similarly to Close Line, the track that opened up his Databloem double-LP Short Films For Long Days. They aren't exactly the same, of course, Orion a bit more stripped and minimal compared to Close Line, but man, did it ever give me a sense of trepidation. That for as cool and unique a sound he had,Yamaoka may have turned out to be a one-trick pony with his use of layered echoing loops. Never mind A Frozen Stream disproved that, it's those initial impressions that unfortunately linger.

Fortunately, Kenichi offers enough variation of sound among the remaining seven tracks that those fears quickly dissipated. Yeah, some tread familiar territory as heard on Short Films, though I can't fault that future album for exploring similar sonic territory. When Yamaoka moves closer to the realms of dub techno (Winter Garden, Radial), trancey loops (Hermes) or waves of melodic washes (Prose, Skylight), it helps stand Time To Time out as it's own entity. Nice and concise, too, because I couldn't help but tap out after two CDs worth of Yamaoka loops in Short Films. Maybe I need more Purl up in this house again.

Yamaoka - Short Films For Long Days

Databloem: 2016

Speaking of artists I've neglected, here's Yamaoka again! Sprung for a couple of those Databloem discs, but wouldn't you know it, he's gone and released more since, including another collaboration with Purl (two, if you count Sculpture on Shimmering Moods Records ...must ...resist ...Bandcamp ...page), and another album out on Carpe Sonum. This man's a machine, with a back-catalogue some thirty albums thick now. To say nothing of all the works he did with former partner Yoshinori Yamazaki.

Oh yeah, I haven't actually gotten into the history of this project, have I? Currently helmed by Kenichi Oka, he and Yoshinori had a solid run as Yamaoka releasing several techno records at the turn of the century. If the Discogs chronology is accurate, they took a break in the mid-'00s, after which Kenichi carried on solo, making the name's portmanteau redundant - I assume it was done with Yoshinori's blessing. Debuting on Databloem probably wasn't a breakout for the project, because Yamaoka was clearly successful enough to have such a robust discography behind its back before appearing on the label. Still, it had to be beneficial to his profile, exposing him to more folks than labels like October Man Recordings, Somehow Recordings, Kazumi, and Secret Station managed.

Anyhow, I grabbed the album Short Films For Long Days, not only because it was a namedrop in my last Yamaoka review, but also because it's a double-LP. Sweet, two CDs worth of Kenichi's hypnotic loops and improv melodies echoing for long stretches! Can't wait to dive right into- Holy shit! This album just lead-drops you right into it, opener Close Line immediately hitting you with a crash and busy arps. No warning at all. Geez, let me at least get my bearings first, will you Oka-san?

Actually, the track does quickly settle into familiar Yamaoka territory, and at nine minutes, is the longest track on CD1. This disc is essentially the 'techno' half of the album, with loops in play often percolating in intense rhythmic fashion. Some tracks, like To Morning, Expand, and Latch, even get close to having actual drum kicks. Others wouldn't be far removed from trance, if given a bit more bass business (Leap Year, Pict Time). Still, Yamaoka's freeform approach to crafting tracks is in full display here, everything coming off like sketches while jamming with his gear. 'Short films' indeed.

If CD1 is the uptempo side, then clearly CD2 is on the downbeat – or at least as downbeat as Yamaoka can go while still employing endless strings of pulsing loops. The opener here is called Night Train, and if that doesn't feel an apt title for the tunes I've heard thus far, almost like riding along tracks down some dark tunnel. Generally though, CD2 is a calmer session of music, the sketching aspect making more sense with tones lingering longer on drifting echoes. Cool stuff all round, but forgive me for hoping my next Yamaoka outing is a little more structured. Maybe with Purl again?

Saitoh Tomohiro - Drawing Line And The Curve

Databloem: 2018

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

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

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

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

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

Spielerei & Mantacoup - Wichman And Other Pieces

Databloem: 2004

I started this current, nigh-endless alphabetical backlog on a Spielerei & Mantacoup release. Seems appropriate that, as I come to its end, I finish with a Spielerei & Mantacoup release. Not quite the end, mind, still a couple more items below here, but man, what a journey it's been, eh? I reviewed Cold War all the way back in, gosh, March? And here we are, around one hundred reviews later, not to mention multiple weeks of vacation thrown in (plus, um, other 'stuff'). All acceptable factors in taking as long as I have in getting through it, but man, it sure felt a slog at some points. Just a tad too much of the noodly, droning ambient, methinks.

What's even funnier about (nearly) ending this run on this particular album is its place in the Spielerei & Mantacoup discography, as this was the first one they released together. Keep in mind that Cold War was their last collaborative work, and was the first CD I reviewed in this stretch. Never would I have thought the sequencing in this project of mine would contain an actual ouroboros; at least, not until I reach Model 500's Classics again.

Wichman And Other Pieces may be the first album these two released together, though they each had some work out on dataObscura in that time too. So the two crossed paths, vibed on the synergy, and made some music – not an uncommon occurrence in the going-ons of musicians. What makes this particular CD so funny-weird is the fact it's mostly a live album. Yes, their 'debut' release mostly includes recordings taken from The Wichman Concert, which is a rather ballsy move on Databloem's part. The young label hadn't even reached it's tenth release yet, but hey, here's a live session from a couple artists making their debut on our print. I joke, but truthfully, Databloem had been releasing a few of these 'Databloem In Concert' CDs already, including one from Saul Stokes, plus another due from The Circular Ruins (because of course).

For the purposes of this CD, The Wichman Concert is divided up into seven parts, though it is a continuous long-play with various movements and sections throughout. So lots of segments of synth drone, pad washes, burbly electronics, and soft, dubby ambient techno rhythms. Part 4 gets surprisingly aggressive, its chugging, groovy beats sounding like they're being dragged through dub-mud, while Part 7 provides the requisite uptempo closure to a live set (paging Dr. Jarre on that one), though nothing that'll have folks rioting in their zoot suits.

As the album title implies, there wasn't enough material in the concert for a full-fledged album, so four additional pieces are added. These mostly follow upon the same moody, dubby ambient techno vibes as the live stuff, while Sfunato treads startlingly close to the domain of psy-dub. It's all quite good and all, though really mostly just confirms Databloem a class label throughout its lifespan than anything on the artists' part.

Steve Brand - Upwelling: Emergence

Databloem: 2018

Steve Brand seemed familiar to me, but Discoggian evidence shows that couldn't possibly be the case. Though he's released some forty album's worth of music in the past fifteen years, a high percentage of it has been through his own, independent labels (Relaxed Machinery, Pioneer Light Music). And despite a discography as big as his, he hasn't done much for the compilation market either. Yet I still associate his name with ambient artists of old, which makes sense given his style of ambient is in the ancient, traditional form of the genre. I must have noticed his works on labels like Hypnos and AtmosWorks, where old-schoolers like Vidna Obmana, Robert Rich, and Vir Unis have released material. Oh, Ishq too, whom Steve Brand collaborated with on the double-LP Spiritual Science / The Voice From Home. Huh, sometimes the connections are as simple as that.

Though that pairing happened a decade ago, it helped give him a small in with ...txt, where Brand got to release one of his Near Series CDs on. And as seems to be the case now, when a producer releases something on a Lee Norris print, they get invited over to the Databloem family as well. Or sometimes it's the other way around. Lots of cross-pollination between the two camps, is what I'm saying, more than I ever thought possible. Throw in Aes Dana providing another mixdown for a Databloem joint, and I'm beginning to wonder if I should be on the look-out for some massive, multi-franchise crossover event within the world of ambient and chill music. That isn't a tribute to Pete Namlook.

Upwelling: Emergence is a sequel of sorts, the first Upwelling coming out way back in 2011 as an odd 'n' sods collection of material. So too it goes with this one, various unused items and inspirational flights of fancy of the past decade rounded up into a compilation. A strange method of making a debut on a new label, though not unprecedented. Heck, I think I've reviewed such an item before (Aythar's Dream Of Stars). It's a safe way to test the waters with a broader audience, seeing if one's stylee meshes with their tastes before dropping an LP of new, original content on their ears. As if the ambient collective is some stuffy scene of opinionated gate-keepers.

As I'm not about to dive deeply into Brand's discography right now (so many albums...), all I can tell you regarding this particular release is what I mentioned above. Steve's 'brand' (*slap*) of ambient mostly entails lengthy, overlaying synth drones and gentle field recordings, abstract art music as crafted right from the '80s. It's all very serene and pleasant and calming and-

G'ah! What's with those flutes in The Krater Of Earth? So shrill and piercing following half a CD's worth of soothing tones and timbre. The track settles into a standard pad-drone piece, but geez, hearing those sure was a slap in the face. Knocked me out of my peaceful doze, it did.

Yamaoka & Purl - Simple Songs

Databloem: 2018

Far be it for me to get flustered over seeing certain artists flit between labels I figured would have little cross-pollination, but it's still weird to see a chap I discovered on Silent Season appear on Databloem. First it was Segue, and now Purl, both producers that helped cement in my mind the definitive dubby, trancey, techno-chill Silent Season stylee (ASC too). And while it's a sound that could fit with Databloem's rather liberal explorations on downtempo and ambient music, they still have generally different followers. You'll never see a glowing write-up of Databloem on Resident Advisor, nosiree.

Fortunately, such artists aren't so constrained by label loyalty that they don't mind dipping into other's pools on occasion. Ludvig Cimbrelius (Purl) has in fact done the deed many times over the course of his career, including such labels as... wait, didn't I already do the obligatory Label Namedrop when I reviewed Stillpoint? *checks* I didn't! Ah sweet! Ahem... Labels such as Sediment, Dewtone Recordings, Eternell, and Faint. Many of those releases included pairings with other producers such as Sinius, Deflektion, and Hivertribe. So teaming up with this Yamoaka isn't out of the ordinary for Purl. Still, I'll be flubber-flustered if he ends up pairing up with, say, a dark ambient producer, releasing an album on, say, a drone label. Wait a minute, my Bandcamp bell just rung, let me che- Son of a gun!!

Yamaoka is headed by Yoshinori Yamazaki (Kenichi Oka was once a member, so sayeth Lord Discogs). Yet another one of those tireless ambient producers churning out multiple rare albums on multiple obscure labels like October Man Recordings, Secret Station, Doppelganger, Carpe... Sonum... Records? Dear God, everything I know that is ambient is collapsing within itself!

Anyhow, Simple Songs. Two types of compositions make up this album. The first are the long, ambient dronescapes where minimalist looping passages and melodies are stretched out like ethereal embers across a picturesque skyline. Very lovely, very calming, very expected of another release out of Databloem. The other assortment contain more momentum to them, quicker in their loops such that they percolate into pseudo-rhythms. Add a kick drum underneath these, and you could easily have trance, or neo-trance, or whatever folks want to call this stuff. So of course Yam' n' Pur' do so (or close approximates of) in tracks like Spinning Grid, Simple Songs, and River Run. Ah, that's the Silent Season stuff I was looking for.

And I won't lie, though I've come across a fair bit of mint material from this Databloem splurge, Simple Songs has thus far taken the cake for me. Yeah, it's a small cheat in cribbing the same dreamy dubby vibes as has made Silent Season among my favourite prints as of late, combining two enjoyed styles into one awesome whole. This is what great electronic music does though: mix and merge into wonderfully fascinating new combinations. And a staid scene such as ambient could use more of such worlds colliding.

Galati - Silence [As A Din]

Databloem: 2018

I was already curious in checking out more items from Galati after Gletscher, though not in a real hurry to do so either – almost glacial, in my efforts (eh? eh...?). Plus, having the bulk of his music released by that label which has disappeared into the internet ether made digging back into ol' Roberto's discography a trickier endeavour than before. Fortunately, after a bit of downtime, he seems to have found a new home with the label that everyone seems to have found a new home with; or provide some additional content for. Seriously, what is it about Databloem that has everyone in the modern ambient techno/dub/chill scene wandering within their walls? Just because they have a proven, classy track record that's endured for well over a decade now doesn't mean one has to release with them. Sure must feel nice though, being part of a print that won't end up dicking you around.

Making his debut with Databloem is Galati's sixth album, Silence [As A Din], and even without the recollection of his earlier works, you just know I'd have picked this up regardless. I admit, I admit, certain types of cover art are pure catnip to my eyes, and placid ice flows in a blue-scale colour is about as catnippy as these things can get. Maybe add a derelict boat on one of those icebergs. A Saturn in the sky. Yeah, that's the stuff...

For those of us just joining in on the Galati train, Roberto's approach to the art of ambient drone typically involves post-rock elements such as guitar strums and amp feedback. The result on Gletscher was that of a rather epic wall-of-sound, and you'd think for an album titled Silence, he'd scale things back some. Yes, some, in that I can pick out individual elements with greater ease, but it's no less overbearing. The opener Pt. 1 doesn't waste time in bringing the coalescing sounds to the fore, though they do retreat some such that things like rhythm and melody have breathing room. At twenty minutes long, Pt. 1 moves through many passages itself, at times almost pausing to catch its breath before erupting in another wall-of-sound excursion. If I didn't know it was indexed as a singular piece, I'd have thought it was around four or five different tracks.

Pt. 3 goes even longer at twenty-five, and has something of a modern classical feel to it with prominent harp and vocal tones. Not that they weren't apparent in Pt. 1, I can just hear them better in this composition. There's honestly quite a bit going on in Pt. 3, more than I can detail in the remaining word count I have.

So let me wrap up by mentioning Pt. 2 and Pt. 4 are comparatively shorter pure drone pieces, almost inching towards dark ambient's ethereal domain, placing Silence [As A Din] among the moodiest albums I've heard from Databloem yet. Can't fault the label for dipping their fingers into a bit of everything.

Opium - Pain(t)

Databloem: 2009

Yet another artist I feel should have gotten a fairer shake, if the realm of ambient music wasn't such an overstuffed scene where even a modicum of success is too swiftly buried beneath the bloat. Like, no way I'd have stumbled upon this chap if he wasn't on a label I've taken to diving a little deeper into, and even then that's almost by chance, the Databloem catalogue rather extensive in names I'm already familiar with. Who has time for Cymphonic or 45 KO when I can scope out more compositions from artists like Mathias Grassow and Lingua Lustra? Nay, with too much ambient music to possibly consume in one's lifetime, it's best to fall back on the safe and familiar, never exposing one's imagination to the wonders of the unknown. Oof, ouch, that actually hurt my brain, trying to think like that. It's just not possible for yours truly!

What I'm trying to get at is it almost seems a fluke I chose this album on my most recent Databloem splurge. A name like Opium should have glazed over my eyes like so many generic pseudonyms of electronic music past. “Ooh how clever,” the snarky snake in my cerebellum would say, “a 'druggy' handle for druggy music. That's like a trance DJ calling himself DJ Ecstasy, or a dubstep DJ calling himself DJ Ket-Bumps. I bet there's, like, a hundred Opiums in Discogs' database.” Man, that snarky snake in my cerebellum can be a real dick sometimes. (for the record, Matteo Zini lays claim to Opium (6))

Pluck up Pain(t) I did though, and now having listened to it, I'm left wondering how I never came across him before. Mr. Zini has crafted a sound that would fit quite nicely as track three or four on a Fahrenheit Project CD from Ultimae Records, a quieter piece of downtime between the heavy hitters of that label. There's a light psy-chill undertone to everything, but on more of a droney tip, rhythms burbling under warm layers of dubby pad work. It's like the meeting ground between Ultimae and Silent Season in how he can draw you into a widescreen vista of sonic splendour, yet remain firmly grounded. It's music I want to watch stars too, flickering through a canopy of pines.

Turns out Opium got his start on Silentes, the offshoot from the former Amplexus. He eventually fell in with the Databloem group through their sister Practising Nature (home to lots of Amplexus/Silentes alum) before releasing a couple albums on the parent label. Then, not much of anything else since. What's most damning though, is just how lacking his compilation game was. Who knows why at this point, but there's scant examples of his work being showcased elsewhere. And that's a bloody shame, because as mentioned, he'd have fit snugly with the above-mentioned prints, even with a contributing track or two. Plus, I'd have happened upon him much sooner than random chance a decade on, and that's what's most important!

Stokes - Local Crowd

Databloem: 2018

It's not so bad that I missed out on Saul Stokes, is it? If his Discoggian data's to be believed, he did the bulk of his music production at a time I couldn't have known of him. There might have been the odd chance I'd have run into his work on Portland based ambient label Hypnos Recordings, some of that print's releases drifting a few hundred kilometres north to the Canadian border. Sadly, I wasn't so in the ambient know as I would have liked to think I was at the turn of the century, still sticking with the few acts and names I was most comfortable and familiar with. It wouldn't be until the advent of a little record database website that I realized just how massive this scene actually was. And lord would it take even longer for my finances to reach such a level I could even indulge in this expanded universe in any meaningful way. (never mind the digital-only Kahvi Collective releases, because block-headed stubbornness)

It was around the peak of his productivity that he released an album on the fledgling Databloem, mostly a collection of live recordings with a few original tracks sprinkled in. Fast forward fifteen years later, and Mr. Stokes has returned to the veteran Databloem, which also happened to be his first new album in seven years, and ten since his last on an actual label. To say he's slowed down some in this past decade is an understatement, but this has always been a fickle scene. Some producers can crank out the jams forever without missing a mark, while others have their initial flash of inspiration, then let things slide down as other interests take hold. Seems familiar, somehow...

As for the music we can expect from Saul, he was a bit all over the place way back in the day, drifting from ambient experiments to soft, fuzzy downtempo techno. His Fields album, released the same year as his first Databloem record (Radiate), might have even fit with the early Ultimae Records catalogue, which maybe explains why Vincent Villuis has provided an Ultimae Mixdown™ for Local Crowd. No, wait, he's been doing that for most of Databloem's new releases now. So, hey, if you've been jonesing for more that label's lush sonic headspace, check out this label's recent offerings!

I must say though, Local Crowd is an odd album to be given the Ultimae Mixdown™, in that it's such a simple little collection of tunes. Best I can describe is 'electro dream pop', just without the harsher 'electro' element, and the overt shoegazey elements of dream pop toned down. I still get the same day-glo feels from this, just not so overbearing about it. I sadly don't have much to specifically say either, as the vibe and tunes are all generally the same throughout the album, making highlights difficult to point out. Local Crowd is a pure 'reflective feels' record, which I guess is enough.

Samora - Kaleidos

Databloem: 2018

Sometimes it's never the actual album I'm reviewing that sparks the most discussion. Indeed, what more can be said for the eleven-zillionth ambient record that is released annually? I'll buy such music more for my personal interest and enjoyment, but that doesn't provide me with much material to wax the bull with. It's almost a relief when I pop over to the artist's Discoggian data and discover a rich history I've overlooked, wherein I can burn ample word count touching on prior releases and the funny label names said producer has released on. (so many funny label names... just, so many...). I was not offered such a bounty of talking-point riches with Samora, but he did dredge up some unfortunate recollections.

Samora is Enrico Marani, a synth chap who's worked with various experimental, avant-garde outfits out of Italy, Le Forbici di Manitù being the most consistent of the bunch to this day. Being part of a band for over a decade didn't leave his own muse fallow, spending time dabbling in his own original compositions. He eventually made a debut album as Samora called The Unspeakable, a collection of minimalist ambient with recited poetry from cellist Christine Hanson, released on Psychonavigation Records. Yes, that Psychonavigation Records. Hey, at least it was in 2012, before all the shit hit the fan with that label. A follow-up album came out on Psycho-N's Italian sub-label Tranquillo Records (Lontano), and when those went tits-up, a third album The Gift came out on the rebranded label Where Ambient Lives – that one also seems to have gone into limbo, though unlike the others, its Bandcamp remains up. Might be mindful of buying anything from it though. Anyhow, it seems poor Enrico finally had enough of that label's sketchy practices, and took his Samora project to the steadier Databloem for his fourth album Kaleidos. Methinks t'was a wise decision.

If your eyes didn't glaze over much in that block o' words above, you may have noticed the genre namedrop you're in for with Samora. Right, even being on Databloem is a good hint, but even the small sampling of the label's output I've indulged has shown some nice, surprising variety. This is minimalist ambient as you likely imagine it though. Stretched-out droning pads, sprinkles of piano and bell tones, fits of burbling electronics and static fluff, self-titled compositions averaging in the double-digit minute lengths with little care of destination, only the journey. In the opening track alone, I felt I was shifting into differing tonal lanes every few minutes, though Keleidos 1 is possibly one of the 'busiest' among these six pieces.

I say “possibly”, because this honestly isn't an album that sticks with me. It's ambient as pure sonic wallpaper, which is fine since that's Mr. Marani's intent. Can't knock a body of music that succeeds in the artist's vision. Just wish I could give it a stronger recommendation for others beyond the genre's faithful. So it goes in this scene.

Waki - Hurry Up And Relax

Databloem: 2011

Oh, is that an order? A command? A decree? I... don't think I can take that kind of pressure. Like, have you ever had one of those nights where you have to wake up at a specific time to make important appointments, and you can't help but feel stressed out over the need to just relax and get to sleep? Having an album title literally demand that of you is that feeling, only ten times more so! What happens if I don't hurry up and relax as Waki instructs me to? Will I not get the full context of this record without my brain turning its attention span down several notches within the first few minutes? Or will something more sinister, more insidious happen, like a ticking time-bomb planted within my psyche that will implode if I don't chill the f' down soon enough? Should I consider the caffeine content within my bloodstream before throwing this album on, whether it will significantly impede upon my ability to relax within the ascribed amount of time Waki has allotted within, whatever that time-frame may be? Just so much pressure from a single title. Just... so much...

Even more disconcerting is the fact that Hurry Up And Relax is such a schizophrenic album, I couldn't chill out to it if I tried. You'd think this being out on Databloem, it'd contain some nice ambient passages, or pleasant downtempo vibes. And it does, but th'ar be techno here too. And Kraftwerkian electro-pop. And ...drum 'n' bass? No, wait, Drum & Space is atmospheric jungle – totally different! Still doesn't make a lick of sense on Databloem though.

Still, Wakisaka Akifumi has been a rather eclectic musician for much of his career, so genre dalliances isn't that much out of the norm. Mostly fussing about in Japanese obscurity while self-releasing his stuff throughout the '90s, he caught a small break getting picked up by trendy Cologne techno label Traum Schallplatten (Music For Lazy People), then shortly after got a release on the fledgling Databloem (Music For Waki People). This is the follow-up to that, released some seven years later. Guess he figured the 4CD retrospective Special he released in between would sate all the Waki-fans for a while.

When I say Hurry Up And Relax is schizo', I ain't messing. This album has the sort of lengthy, minimalist pieces of dense timbre you'd expect out of harmonic Japanese ambient, but will follow them up with something out of a totally different release. Stargate sounds like it should be in a Swayzak DJ set, not surrounded by two atonal drone compositions. How does Ocean's retro Berlin-School noodling mesh with the aforementioned Drum & Space? Going from the languid ambience of Family to the oddball electro-pop of Dr. Loveburger? Sure, I think these are all interesting tracks on their own, but come off nonsensical when mashed all together as they are here. Context: an important factor that I'm either completely missing, or Hurry Up And Relax lacks regardless.

sgnl_fltr - Exhalo

Databloem: 2008

As I perused the Databloem catalogue for a half-dozen items or so, I couldn't just rely on eye-catching cover-art for all my purchases – not every release of theirs is a shade of blue or features a picture of Saturn. Nay, sometimes good ol' name recognition does the trick, and the label has many artist names I recognize indeed. Mick Chillage, Lingua Lustra, Oophoi, Mathias Grassow, Nacht Plank, and on and on. I prefer digging a little deeper though, checking out artists I'm certain I know from somewhere, but can't quite recall. Absolutely I'm talking sgnl_fltr. Something about that name incites positive feels, but considering he's a dub techno guy, I couldn't remember where. Perhaps a Silent Season album? No, that can't be it, Mr. Kreutzfeldt essentially mothballing the project before the turn of the decade. He's since focused his efforts on Periskop, which features dark industrial dub and ...submarine noise? Ooh, bathymetric bass!

As always, The Lord That Knows All enlightened me. Turns out I first came across sgnl_fltr way back in my earliest explorations of Ultimae Records, specifically as featured in Oxycanta 2: Winter Bloom Boogaloo. The track, Waters, also earned an Ace Track nod, and I even had the audacity to call it akin to old-school trance. Compared to what passed itself as trance in the year 2007, okay, sure, but that sure was a stretch on my part way back when. Just goes to show how desperate I was to hear 'authentic proper trance' in those dire mid-'00s years. Would even accept some dub techno as a worthy substitute.

Anyhow, Exhalo was the album sgnl_fltr released after that Ultimae appearance, so seems appropriate I'd end up stumbling upon it after the fact. Would likely have been the album I'd have picked up had I known there was any out there to be had. Not sure what I'd have made of it back in 2008 though, my interest in dub techno definitely on the wane at the time due to market saturation. It wasn't as bad as minimal-tech, but DeepChord left an undeniable wake of copycats after his success. Still, Mr. Kreutzfeldt had been making similar music thoughout the '00s, Exhalo his fifth to that point (he'd release another with Stadtgruen the following year), so he ridin' no coattails on this wagon, nosiree (too... many... cliches...)

I do know I'd have been initially disappointed, just because I wouldn't be expecting what I hear on Exhalo. That would have been then, however, and when I threw it on in the today-times, I quite enjoyed this, in a very low-key manner. Absolutely it's another dub techno album with some broken-beat glitch thrown in, but man, the headphone space this creates is lush. Par for the course in this genre, and certainly extensively explored this past decade. Sometimes though, you just want to get lost in endless sonic space as crunchy micro-beats with thudding bass cruise along, and Exhalo provided that right when I was ready to hear it again. Timing is everything.

Skua Atlantic - Atlantic Fusion

Databloem: 2018

This is an item I've had sitting mostly neglected since I got it, however long ago my last Databloem splurge was. I didn't know anything about it, only that it had a blue cover art, the best colour for cover art. I threw it on once, passively listening to it in the background, and generally liking what I heard though not significantly enough to get me hotly anticipating digging into it proper-like for a review. Re-listening to it now, and sure enough more of it sinks in, the sort of ambient techno that reaches deeper into the electro and Detroit lineage, though with plenty o' nods to the mellower side of early Warp Records too. Like Selected Ambient Works 86-92, without the lingering alien synth tones or lurking mad-genius behind every uniquely construction rhythm section.

So I go to Discogs to get my requisite additional info and who's name do I see as part of Skua Atlantic but Mick Chillage. I swear to God, Allah, Vishnu, Buddah, and Spaghetti Monster, I did not know this going in. It was just the blue cover art that caught my attention! And it's not like I would have name-dropped Skua Atlantic when talking about other collaborative projects Mr. Gainford's been part of. Autumn Of Communion with Lee Norris remains his most prominent one, and there was that lone Architects Of Existence a couple years back. This is comparatively new, so you'll forgive me for having not paid attention to everything Mick's been up to – I can only do so much keeping up with his solo works and Autumn Of Communion.

Besides, there's another name here I should talk up, Árni Grétar, more commonly known as Futuregrapher. Okay, maybe not 'commonly', but the guy's had a tidy career under the alias, all the while running the Icelandic print Möller Records (the... Bandcamp... calls...). He mostly sticks to the ambient techno lane as well, but has been known to mix things up with jazzy drum programming and even a little jungle action. Not the most obvious pairing with Chillage, then, but sometimes you need someone outside your main sphere of influence to find truly inspirational sparks of creativity.

And that's what I'm hearing in Atlantic Fusion, as much a meshing of differing approaches to songcraft as flowing along similar senses for sound. I've heard Chillage create retro ambient techno plenty of times, but never retro in this fashion. I can only assume this is Grétar's contribution to the project, though taking in a little of his other works, I notice his ambient markers as well. It's strange how this album can sound futuristic, yet Balearic (ocean waves and seagulls help). Where I'm backpacking across Europe, but hitching rides from flying cars. Take an acid house club stop-over (Metro West (Acid City)), just for the kicks. Atlantic Fusion almost sounds like it should have come out on B12's FireScope label, though I'm glad Databloem released it just the same. T'was a tad cheaper from them.

Pleq & Segue - The Seed

Databloem: 2010

For as much as I've name-dropped Databloem, I sure haven't gathered much of their discography, a lone double-LP from Mick Chillage the only release to have entered my coffers. Time to remedy that, said I, and wouldn't you know it, they too offer some bulk rates of their catalogue. Sweet deal, that means I can round out a few discographies of artists I already- no, wait, I should use the opportunity to explore new artists, ones I've never heard before! Like, who knows what wonderful artists I've yet to discover, names like Skua Atlantic or James Shain or The Circular Ruins or Mnnsk. I mean, it worked with another pseudo-ambient label that started in the early '00s, before going completely tits-up. Somehow though, I figure Databloem has some longevity behind it. Call it a hunch.

Anyhow, I'm not going into this one totally ear-blind, as one of the players involved I do know: Segue. Most folks these days know him for his contributions to the Silent Season catalogue, his Pacifica in particular hailed as among that label's best works (eye-grabbing cover art helps). This was released before that though, when he was doing a little collaborative work with a chap named Bartosz Dziadosz, but you can call him Pleq. Now this dude, he's got himself an extensive discography, releasing a few dozen items this past decade on such labels like Crazy Language, Impulsive Art, Dronarivm, Chemical Tapes, and vu-us, vu-us. As he mostly plies a minimalist glitch ambience with modern classical leanings, I should have stumbled upon him sooner, but no, this collaboration with Segue is the fist time Pleq's graced my ears. That Our Words Are Frozen on dataObscura looks intriguing though.

As the Pleq genre-drop implies, we're in minimalist glitch territory here, though I wasn't expecting things to be this loopy and spacious. The Seed isn't a full-on collaboration between Pleq and Segue, only a couple tracks billed as such (The Piano, The Seed, The Mornings Begin Chilly). Pleq crafts two pieces on his own (Lulled By The Rhythmic Creaking, Calm Coolness), Segue gets a solo outing of his own (Late April), and both trade remixes on two tracks apiece.

If this seems confusing, don't worry, you won't tell much difference between the artists within the music itself. This is an album with lots of fuzzy static, clicky-poppy glitch, and minute looping melodies wrapped in a soft blanket of white noise. Melancholy headphone music, to the extreme!

Okay, it's not extreme, but it is very ambient, in that modern glitchy sort of way. I find things are more interesting when there is some form of melody leading things, whether pad work, piano work, or string work – the pure drone-gltich works like Calm Coolness and No Sky evaporate in my brainpan too easily. Overall, I feel like Pleq's aesthetic dominates over Segue's, but as I've only taken in a couple Segue albums, and none of Pleq's (yet), take that conclusion with a pound of sodium carbonate.

Mick Chillage - Paths

Databloem: 2016

I spent a huge chunk of my last Mick Chillage review endlessly going on about music formats, nearly rendering (M)odes a hilarious/frustrating non-review. Not this time though. I'm giving Paths all the musical critical hyper-practical attention it deserves. But first, some background on Databloem!

I've name-dropped the label in the past, on account artists I've covered before have released material through them. Finally digging through their catalogue proper-like, I didn't realize how wide a net Databloem casts. They've put out albums from students of '80s old-school ambient (Oöphoi! Tau Ceti! Steve Stoll! Mathias Grassow!) to students of '90s school ambient (Chillage! Norris as Nacht Plank! Segue! Lingua Lustra!), and a whole lot more I don't recognize in the slightest (I think sgnl_fltr appeared on an Ultimae compilation one time). They aren't a large label by any stretch – fifteen years in business, with a half-dozen releases per – but as they came upon that anniversary, Databloem felt a swagger-itch in need of scratching. Their solution was rounding up some artists who'd released prior music on their print, and have them craft whole new albums in celebration. Only, a regular LP just wouldn't do, oh no. To celebrate fifteen years, Databloem shot for nothing less than the double-LP experience for each artist. I... can't say I've ever seen that happen before, so points for unique marketing.

Of course, dealing with ambient producers here, knocking out a couple fifty-plus minute compositions to fill that running length ain't no th'ang. And while Mick Chillage doesn't typically go to those runtimes in his works, he does indulge himself to that degree in the fifty minute long Three Years. Beyond being something of a nod to the '80s school of ambient though, I'm struggling to justify such a length. The opening section has flowing pad synths, and under normal circumstances, tidily wraps up around the thirteen minute mark, a suitable length for this sort of track. But a single, low drone carries on, and we're eventually introduced to spacier, minimalist doodling with piano touches – rather '90s style. That carries on for another twelve or so minutes, then things go brighter with drawn-out strings (I'm hesitant to drop the 'modern classical' tag on it). There's a return to prior elements for the lengthy finish, but man does Three Years ever take its time getting there. And if you feel I've spent too much word-count detailing a single track out of twelve, it's kinda' hard ignoring such a behemoth of a composition.

Three Years essentially eats up the bulk of CD2, with a couple 'shorter' ambient pieces that tread close to the realms of New Age ambient rounding it out (Hearts Of Space, yo'). If you have a craving for Chillage beats though, CD1 should get your fix in, some even getting downright peppy and funky with it (Canis Majoris). It isn't anything we haven't heard from Mick before, but chap's got a solid groove going such that he doesn't need convoluted wheels at this point.