Flowjob - Zentertainment (Original TC Review)

Iboga Records: 2008

(2018 Update:
Oh man, while re-listening to this album, I came up with the perfect analogy to describe it. Get ready for this, it'll blow your mind. So, like, you know how cars have, like, five gears, with the first being the slowest, and the fifth being the fastest? Flowjob's debut album, Support Normality, was often hitting that peak of fourth gear, but would have been super-boss if it had a track or two that hit the fifth. Zentertainment, on the other hand, seems stuck in second gear for most of its runtime, occasionally squeaking into third, but seldom with much lasting success. Isn't that such an awesome analogy? What do you mean a George Harrison quote's coming to mind?

After this album, Mads Tinggaard left the group, but Joakim Hjørne's carried on the Flowjob banner to this day, even releasing an album in 2016. I browsed some of his recent material, and it sounds decent enough for contemporary prog-psy, but not much distinctive compared to most other stuff out there, missing that super-infectious groove these early efforts provided. May have to dig further to find out whether it disappeared after Mads' departure, or if it was a gradual thing.)


IN BRIEF: Sophomore stumble.

Strong debuts are common in the rock music industry. Whether thanks to initial innocence, talented hunger, or a nurtured push, such musicians often bring vital enthusiasm to their freshman efforts. Following that up with a solid second effort tends to be far more difficult, though, for a number of reasons that needn’t be brought up at this point; anyone with a passing familiarity with the music business would know them anyway. However, because dance music is a market dominated more by the single than the album, the dreaded Sophomore Slump occurs far less often. Heck, despite dozens of EPs, some producers don’t even get around to releasing a full-length. In this regard, the psy branch of EDM probably has the most in common with rock counterparts, as it is quite possibly the only large scene within dance culture that is primarily dominated by LPs.

As such, like rockers, many psy acts fall prey to second-album stumbles. Where it seems there’s agreeable debut albums from countless names monthly, strong follow-ups are increasingly rare. It’s as though all their great ideas are used up in one shot, and instead of easing through the in-between with singles, they rush out with a second album that sounds like a bunch of B-sides to the first.

And does Flowjob’s new album Zentertainment succumb to these pratfalls? Come-come now, surely you’ve learned how these introductory paragraphs go? Fortunately for the Denmark duo, it is only marginally so.

For those just tuning in to the Flowjob sound, Misters Hjorne and Tinggaard made an immediate impact with their 2006 debut album Support Normality on the burgeoning prog-psy label Iboga. I've already covered that release, but in case you’re not up for reading one of our older, rather clumsily-written reviews (we were still new at it, honest!), here’s the abridged version: infectiously groovy, wonderfully vibey, free-flowing prog that flirted between house and trance throughout, with very little actual psy influences considering the label it appeared on. Although some of the tracks on that album could have used more energetic climaxes, Flowjob’s sound was still highly enjoyable. Two years on now, where do we find the Denmark duo?

A surface scan reveals them to be cruising along right where they left off. Flowjob’s distinct neo-Tokyo electro-coo’ sound is all over Zentertainment, so if you come in looking for more of that, you’re in for a treat. And on the rhythmic end, they’re just as infectious as ever. You could potentially ignore a track for most of its duration, but once something grabs your attention, it hooks you in and you’re locked in for the ride. A welcome addition to their production are craftier basslines that are unafraid to leap off the loop-rails. If things are sounding fine and dandy, though, then what’s the problem I hinted at above?

Frankly, what’s missing from Zentertainment is a sense of thrill. I really don’t want to compare albums because even if it is not the case I have to assume the reader is coming into this one cold; however, when a follow-up lacks the same energy a debut has, comparisons are inevitably made. Flowjob has scaled back their music such that it comes off quaint and pleasant now, which of itself is fine for casual moments or warm-up periods at parties. But when you hear potential for more lurking beneath you can’t help but come away with lingering thoughts of “what if...” This was what impeded Support Normality from reaching some truly exhilarating highs, and now that Zentertainment finds Flowjob in an even mellower mood, their music comes off very subdued. The first half of this album does maintain a decent sense of flow, though. It’s all pleasant sounding with spacey pads, catchy (if overused) vocal samples, and undeniably groovy rhythms.

Once the lovely trance vibes of Don’t Believe In Mirrors ends, though, chances are you’ll be wanting Zentertainment to either ratchet-up the energy or offer something new. Flowjob provides the latter; unfortunately, it seriously drops the album into a kind of middling variation of their sound with lower BPMs and odd hooks. There are moments that’ll still grab your attention but unlike prior work, it never seems to go anywhere. It sounds as though the duo, like so many sophomore efforts, are trying to experiment in areas where they don’t have quite the musical fortitude to make work, all the while their strengths are sorely hindered in the process. And unfortunately, it ends the album on a rather limp note.

A bad album, then? No, not really. For the most part, it is still enjoyable, and if anything Zentertainment is charming enough for chiller moments. If you missed out on Flowjob’s debut, however, this one probably won’t do much for you.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2008. © All rights reserved.

Flowjob - Support Normality (2015 Update)

Iboga Records: 2006

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.)

At the tail end of that very, very, very long original review of Support Normality, I quipped about how pricey these old, ace albums in the psy scene can get on the collector’s market. Hell, even lesser CDs have fetched remarkable prices at Discogs. From my pile alone, U-Recken’s Aquatic Serenade once sold for $143! The compilation Goa Spirit 3, $102! ICE MC’s Ice N’ Green, $81 (wait, what?). Several Ultimae albums have moved in the $75-$100 range, with plenty more psy leaning discs going in the tidy $30-$50 bracket. Flowjob’s sophomore album, Zentertainment, which I found weaker than their debut, brought home $40 for a former owner. Surely Support Normality then, a great collection of ultra-groovy progressive trance, would command a gracious price of… seven… teen… dollars? Are you kidding me? That’s an injustice! This should be going for well over $50! Did Iboga flood the market with too many copies or something? Am I blinded by some unaccounted bias? I’ll admit I was going through some interesting transitional times when I first came across this album, but still.

No, wait, let’s examine this. Did my situational living impact upon my reaction to Support Normality in a significant way? It’s no secret we often associate music with events in our lives, such that hearing a song can send a flood of memories from the time you first heard it. When I play this album back now, three immediate things come to mind: a rave where I had a bad 2CB trip, shitty Vancouver weather (even more so than usual), and being home wretchedly sick watching Season 1 of Battlestar Galactica. I can’t say these are at all pleasant memories on the surface, but they were significant, where after a year of big city bachelorhood, I was learning just what it took to survive in the Lower Mainland. Don’t be so irresponsible at parties, get some proper rainwear, and don’t binge watch such a depressing, brilliant sci-fi series. Oh God, the flood of feels, I tells ya’!

I suppose Support Normality provided a brief bright spot in that dour February of 2006. The chipper vibes, dubby synths, and oh-so infectious rhythms gave me a glimmer of optimism, rejuvenated my interest in electronic music in such a way that hadn’t happened since electroclash emerged onto the scene. Flowjob wasn’t doing anything I hadn’t heard before, but they did it with such finesse and skill, I was instantly hooked. They found a sweet spot that catered to my deep, dubby prog needs, the sort of music none of the genre’s standard bearers were crafting anymore, all content pursuing their own roads instead (tech, minimal, Mc.). It obviously didn’t happen like that for others, some probably bored by what Flowjob was selling. But no one can deny they have albums of similar connection to them as this one has with me.

PS: no, I’m not looking to sell anything from my collection, but if I was, hoo boy, would I clean up!

Various- Set/4 - Essentials

Iboga Records: 2005

I probably should have reviewed this when I got it so many lunar cycles ago, back when my interest in prog-psy was still peaking and I could gush some two-thousand rambly words over it. I was late to the party though, and the fourth edition of Iboga Records' compilation showcase was already a couple years old anyway. Besides, their stylee would endure for years after, right? Ain't no way it could grow stale! Honestly, the warning signs were there, but before delving into those, let me bring you up to speed on what Set/4 is all about.

As mentioned, this was part of Iboga’s near-annual label showcase, a series simply titled Set. Deciding the label was ready to broaden its reach, the CDs went into overdrive, unleashing three volumes in 2005 alone. And instead of being generic compilations, they’d have unique themes to each edition, with a guest compiler brought in to sweeten the deal. Okay, so most of these names weren’t much bigger beyond the prog psy scene to begin with, but the final hard-copy volume, Set 11, had none other than John ‘00’ Fleming at the helm, so that’s cool. Following that though, it became a solely digital outlet for new material, erroneously titled Iboga Trance Classics ever since. Highly presumptuous declaring such tracks instant classics, no?

That’s the history of the Set series out of the way. How does the volume that kicked off this change of course hold up, then? None too shabby for the most part, a few of Iboga’s biggest names taking up tracks space (no Antix though). One of Yoni Oshrat’s earliest efforts under the Ace Ventura alias shows up with Cardiac Arrest, a strong outing of pulsing prog-psy hinting a promising future with it (and kinda’ squandered once it came to Album Time, but whatever). Following that is an early version of Nobody’s Perfect from Perfect Stranger, because if you’re doing the compiling of the CD, you may as well throw in an original production too. FREq, an early star of Iboga, gets in on the action with Lifeline, giving us another solid, trancey groover. And at the end of Set/4 is a spaced-out slice of prog in Ground Control from Zen Mechanics, one of the few full-on acts that kept the genre respectable through the tail-end of the ‘00s.

Then there’s the middle section, and here you’ll find early warning signs that Iboga prog-psy had potential problems. Tracks from Yotopia, Sunseek, Cubica, Pixel, and Ran Shani have solid groove and classy synth work going for them, but there’s little distinction between them either. So much material from this label suffers from ‘trackiness’, tunes that are decent tools played out but are balls for home listening. And if these acts are drawing blanks, it’s because they never produced much either, most succumbing to the one-and-done album deal. A few good tracks (that can be found elsewhere) unfortunately isn’t enough to recommend Set/4 to anyone but Iboga completists.

Ace Ventura - Rebirth (Original TC Review)

Iboga Records: 2007

(2015 Update:
First, shame on you, 2008 Sykonee, for falling lock-step with every other reviewer in making that movie reference. Not that many even did review it outside the dedicated psy brigade, but you could have shown some ingenuity there, some iconoclastic behavior. Regarding Mr. Oshrat's debut album, it turned out to be his only full-length, follow-ups little more than a number of collaborative digital singles and a 2CD remix package of Rebirth (!). Wait, there was that much extra music made from this drab LP? I need me a couple more exclamation marks (!!).

This review's surprisingly prescient regarding the way Iboga's brand of prog psy turned out, growing ever more minimalist, dull, and stale in the following years. I'm not sure whether this was a mandated change of direction by Perfect Stranger, or Ace Ventura's minor success within the scene generated lackluster copycats, but it sure didn't do the scene any favors long term. That said, the tracks off the back end of this album (The Light, M.A.R.S., and Exposed) do hold up, which is more than can be said for much of Iboga's output later on.)


IN BRIEF: In the prog rut.

Progressive psy had a pretty clever premise going for it when the sound first caught on a few years back. Take the atmospheric and structural aesthetics of prog house, do away with the genre’s tendency to agonizingly build a track subtly, and instead spice the process up with psy trance’s quirky attributes. It could have taken the prog world by storm, but instead the elder statesmen (re: Digweed and co.) decided to explore what the Germans were up to while the new cats (re: Schulz and co.) figured the wiser course of action would be to pop prog up. Maybe it’s been for the best. Given the massive web of sub-genres within dance music, not every new twist should be propelled into the spotlight. In fact, some do quite well remaining obscured in the underground, discovered by those who wish to dig beneath the surface. Away from mainstream influences, it can sometimes be like finding musical gold (although to be fair, there’s often hefty quantities of iron pyrite lurking about too). On the other hand, outside influences do help to spur on innovation within a scene. Without it, the music can become rather insular and stagnant, and if Ace Ventura’s debut full-length is anything to go by, this may be occurring within the realms of prog psy.

Oh, who is Ace Ventura? Not to be confused with the Jim Carey movie (and I won’t bring it up again, so worry not about lame quotes from the Pet Detective), the man behind this project is Yoni Oshrat, whom some may remember as a member of Psysex earlier in the decade. Growing tired of the full-on sound, he left the group and, under the tutelage of Yuli Fersthat (aka: Perfect Stranger, and one of the driving forces behind Iboga Records), began exploring what the realm of prog psy had to offer. After some promising early singles, Yoni finally tucked away in the studio and has emerged with Rebirth, and album that, well, comes off small in scope.

The trouble here, my friends, is most of these tracks don’t reach far. As with many prog producers, Yoni seems more concerned with minute sonic details rather than musical craft. He cooks up a decent groove in the early goings and builds his tracks with a good simmer, but anytime things are ready to boil, he turns the heat off. If this doesn’t make sense, let’s go with a literal explanation.

I could pick out nearly any of these tracks, but for the sake of argument, Presence gets the nod, as it’s the worst offender. It starts out much the same as the rest, with a solid punchy beat and enveloping, throbbing bassline to complement it. With layering percussion and various pulsing effects, tension is adequately built for a couple minutes, until it caps off at... A reset. Yes, folks, Yoni found the best way to utilize all that time was to act as though it never really mattered, and start Presence’s tension from ground zero again. This time though, we are treated to some sparse melody and synth washes, which is quite nice. It seems this might lead to something rather interesting, but alas, it is not to be. In fact, it isn’t to be anything, as Presence unceremoniously ends with a whimper, as though Yoni couldn’t be bothered to make something of the base ingredients he used (er... what IS it with all these cooking analogies today anyway?).

Sao Paulo, Exposed, and Serenity are guilty of this too, although do contain better sounds at their disposal. Elsewhere, M.A.R.S. doesn’t know what kind of song it wants to be, giving us three different ideas (pumping rhythms; moody riffs; tweaky acid) that have little to do with each other (and this one ends even more abruptly than Presence).

These gripes said, Rebirth is hardly the write-off I’m probably making it out to be. If anything, each of these would make for fine set pieces in a DJ mix. Plus, even though the mood throughout is rather singular, the brooding, spacey tone it does maintain is handled well; tracks like Psychic Experience and Stimulator are quite good in this context, although they being collaborations, perhaps the extra input all the more helped Yoni’s efforts.

Actually, I’m positive of it, as his pairing up with Lish for the song The Light brings us Rebirth’s clear highlight. Raising it far and above the rest is a higher dependency on melody to carry the song, something that’s usually only subtly hinted at on the album’s other tracks. As lovely as it is though, what launches The Light even above typical prog psy pastures is the altering of the rhythms in the second half, such that they skip and gallop along rather than drive ahead like so much else. Overall, it’s a wonderful effort.

However, one great track cannot rescue an album being the middling affair it is. Yoni’s prog trappings are simply too rote for the most part, and while undoubtedly great in a dancefloor context, it makes for a barely passable listening experience at home. It’s prog psy going through the motions, and in a sub-genre of music as young as this one, that’s inexcusable.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2008 © All rights reserved.

Perfect Stranger - Learning = Change (2013 Update)

Iboga Records: 2006

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

*blink* ...*blink-blink*

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

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

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

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

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

Perfect Stranger - Learning = Change (Original TC Review)

Iboga Records: Cat. # IBOGACD38 

Released February 28, 2006 

Track List: 

1. Starter (8:28) 

2. Dr. Feelgood (8:31) 

3. Morning Blues (8:03) 

4. Those Days (9:08) 

5. Hyperdrive (8:21) 

6. Truth (8:39) 

7. Nobody’s Perfect (Remix) (9:00) 

8. Desert Session (10:39) 

9. Bonus: Schatsi - Radio Schatsi (Perfect Stranger Remix) (6:50) 

(2010 Update: Ugh. Probably one of the driest reviews I ever wrote, and that's saying something, considering the material I was writing a year before. I can't even read this today. Fortunately, the album itself has held up quite well. In fact, I think Iboga was never quite as good as they were at this point in their life, but mind you I haven't checked anything out from them in over a year now. Maybe it's about time I rectify that?) 

IN BRIEF: Definitely not “that hippie shit.” 

Having been impressed by Flowjob’s album, it raised my curiosity as to what else the growing progressive scene in the psy camps had to offer. After all, the underground buzz surrounding it had to be there for a reason; however, it seems there’s still very little exposure outside its core niche. Either these labels just don’t have the necessary promotional power to expose their material to major outlets, or the majors still regard it as “that hippie shit.” 

Undaunted, I decided to explore it the expensive way: buying a smattering of material for myself to check out. Of this splurge, I naturally picked up another release from the label responsible for Flowjob’s release, Iboga Records; much of this buzz seems to be centred around their output anyways. As for why I chose this particular release by Perfect Stranger, it was merely a random choice; more fun that way (heh). 

The man behind Perfect Stranger, Yuli Fershtat, has been in the psy scene for a while now, mostly producing full-on styled stuff as BLT. I can’t say I’ve heard any of that material but perhaps that’s a good thing. This way, I’m getting the good ol’ fresh perspective on Yuli’s new project without drawing from previous work for comparison. 

As for his Perfect Stranger material, it would seem Yuli has done his homework on what constitutes the progressive sound. The tracks on Learning = Change are not to be confused with the twinkly stuff produced by Andy Moor or Markus Schulz. Nor is it all that similar to the older prog house and trance that was popular in the mid-90s. Rather, the closest comparison would be the brooding style John Digweed was playing out at the turn of the century, with some psy styling sprinkled in here and there. If you aren’t familiar with Digweed’s darker sound, it had the distinction of being very minimal, very groove-centric, and highly un-melodic. So, if you need your hooks readily apparent in your music, you may want to pass on this release. 

The remaining question then, is from which angle should I approach Learning = Change: psy going prog, or prog going psy? The aptly titled opener, Starter, is as clear as any indication on what Yuli is aiming for. The track is as proggy as prog gets, with rhythmic layers, dubby effects, synthy washes, and other assorted sounds gradually building upon one another. A definite hook emerges around the four minute mark -a  pulsing synth melody - but don’t expect it to carry Starter for the duration; it’s more of a tantalizing tease before heading back into the groove again to take us out. Still, Starter is a decent track to, um, start the album on. 

Dr. Feelgood takes us into deeper pastures. Don’t expect this track to lead you by the hand. Most of the dubby sounds and groovy rhythms tend to remain unassuming as things play out, letting the listener discover the musical nuances themself. Of course, that’s the optimist’s stance. A pessimist would probably write Dr. Feelgood off as boring, droning wank. Being the cheery guy I am, I’ll go with the former. It’s still your call though. Retaining this atmosphere is Morning Blues, but this track brings in grittier sound effects, dubby synth pulses, and female samples. The subtle melodies are also easier to pick out thanks to the sparseness of everything at work, but again they won’t leap out at you, nor build to a big climax. 

Having gotten the mellow groovers out of the way, Yuli gets the prog party started with Those Days. The rhythms are more punctual, the bassline more driving, and the sounds a bit fiercer. This track also makes ample use of simple, looping hooks layering on top of each other, effectively drawing you into a rhythmic trance. To counter the menacing sounds used, a little twinkly hook peaks its head every so often. It all sounds good, right? Well, there’s just one problem: the rhythms aren’t as gripping as Those Days’ elements seem to indicate they should be. Consequently, the listener may lose interest when the hooks aren’t in action (which happens all too frequently in the second half). 

Hyperdrive fixes this problem. By establishing the main hook - a looping, brooding synthesized little number - right from the get-go, the focus tends to shift towards Yuli’s use of rhythms. Always layered and evolving throughout the track, it also helps they are catchier, sucking you into their tribal dance. With all the cards laid out early, Hyperdrive doesn’t create a sense of anxious anticipation for a big payoff, thus allowing you to just enjoy the trip. 

The same can be said for Truth. A plinky arpeggio is established early on; although not settling for simple loops this time out, Yuli manages to embellish it with various effects and complementary hooks while the rhythms work and build around it. The silky smooth production on this track adds a touch of class found in many a typical Renaissance release. Er... not that Perfect Stranger hasn’t been classy thus far, but the psy trappings have been lurking in most of these tracks, which can frighten your average prog head. 

Anyhow, moving on. Yuli seems to have realized he’s at his strongest when letting the rhythms dictate the direction of his songs, so for his final two tracks, he does just that. Nobody’s Perfect makes wonderful use of building percussion and groovin’ basslines. Stuttery sounds and effects only add to the tribal energy to be had. The song is structured around a ‘double-build’, where all the elements will peak out halfway through, recede for a bit, and build back up to finish out. Very infectious. 

Similarly, Desert Session lays the tribal feel on thicker, allowing the rhythms to worm and wind their way through a dizzying dance of percussion and bass. A collaboration with Wouter Thomassen (aka Zen Mechanics), you get an added element during these rhythmic builds which is irresistible: acid. Specifically, it is of the chunky, hollow sort, but is there to serve the rhythms as needed. And serve them well they do indeed. 

There’s also a bonus track here, a remix Yuli did for Yoni Oshrat, otherwise known as Schatsi. It certainly has a different feel to it than the rest of this album, in that Radio Schatsi is, dare I say it, old school trance. In fact, I’ll be so bold as to say it kind of reminds me of some DJ Dag material: stuttery synths, simple reverb on the percussion, ‘Speak ‘N’ Spell’ samples, etc. While not the most riveting example of this sound, it is still quality, and a worthy ‘add-on’ to max out the CD’s space. 

The main attraction on this album is still Yuli’s own material though, and he has crafted a lovely little prog album here. With each track easily segueing into the next, the rhythmic flow of Learning = Change is on a constant climb, with Desert Session the definite peak of it. However, an apparent lack of accessible hooks does make this album a bit difficult to dive into without dedicated attention payed to it. Perhaps frustratingly, some of the synthy pulses that peak their head every so often hint at the potential for some killer hooks had Yuli decided to go that route. Still, if this nitpick isn’t much of a concern to you, then Learning = Change will serve prog heads just fine. The underground continues to thrive. 

Score: 7/10 

ACE TRACKS: 

Morning Blues 

Hyperdrive 

Desert Session 

Written by Sykonee. Originally published 2006 for TranceCritic.com. © All rights reserved.

Flowjob - Support Normality (Original TC Review)

Iboga Records: Cat. # IBOGACD36 

Released January 15, 2006 

Track List: 

1. Run, Baby, Run (The Big Escape Version) (10:13) 

2. Everland Airport (7:45) 

3. Flangers In The Night (8:19) 

4. Have Fun & Survive (9:00) 

5. Wannafrisbee (9:03) 

6. They Are Not Alone (8:17) 

7. Mood Food (7:56) 

8. Wadley (9:32) 

9. Glitter (7:47) 

(2010 Update: More wordy than it needed to be, but I think my enthusiasm still came through on this review. Unfortunately, Flowjob didn't quite break out in a way I thought they might have, especially since their follow-up wasn't quite as good as this. I still give this album a high recommendation though. It's insanely infectious and loads of fun!) 

IN BRIEF: Gold where you least expect it. 

The most common answer to the burning question “Where’s all the good music?” these days is “Underground. Deep underground.” No matter how much the lazy wish the best material was easily accessible, it is seldom the case anymore; folks yearning for material with more substance than typically overused structures and sounds have to put in far more effort to discover unique material since it seems label politics is making it tougher for DJs to be the outlet (especially when said DJs own the labels). 

So, the remaining question is just how far underground you have to dig to find choice tunes. In the case of prog house, it seems all the way to different camps altogether. Whispers and rumors abound lately that the psy scene, of all places, is seeing a resurgence of prog music which is daring to innovate. This doesn’t come of much surprise to me as there’s always been a bit of a tie between psy and prog - Oliver Lieb probably said it best when he quipped most prog sounds like slowed-down minimal psy. In general, both like to start from a basic premise, then build around it with various embellishments along the way before peaking out with some sort of climax or conclusion to the flow of the song - the difference being one’s more concerned with rhythm while the other on atmosphere. 

Iboga Records appears to be quite interested in promoting this fusion of prog structures with psy aesthetics, and have earned themselves a decent reputation because of it. However, no label can sustain itself on just one form of EDM (unless your name is Anjunabeats, apparently) and Flowjob’s debut sees the label branching out from its usual psy trappings. Eh? But isn’t Support Normality being distributed by psy shops like Psyshop and Saiko-Sounds? I suppose, but the material on here is hardly psy in any form; but that’s the trouble with underground niche labels: they rarely get the promotion outside their core scenes despite the music having a chance at big sales in others. 

In fact, for a good chunk of this album, I’d call it tech house with prog ideals (no, not progressive tech house, you ninnies -such a thing doesn’t exist). Well, maybe not opener Run, Baby, Run. This song opens up with a dreamy ambient intro that lasts over three minutes. It’s not just noodly synth washes and echo-y effects, though; there’s a definite, meticulous path being followed, gradually building tension to when the first kick hits. When it finally does, all that nicely built tension is wonderfully released despite the laid-back house rhythms. While there are some hooks to be had later on, the focus of Run, Baby, Run is clearly on blissed-out atmosphere, and here it certainly excels. 

Moving onto Everland Airport is where we start to see some of that tech house I mentioned two paragraphs ago. Ah, I can see that nervous glance forming on your face at the very mention of tech house. I don’t blame you. It’s one of those forms of music that, more often than not, makes good sense on a dancefloor but is mind-numbingly boring to listen to at home. Indeed, for the first minute or so of Everland Airport, it appears the song’s just going to be a simple tech house workout, and my mind wandered on the first listen. 

Along the way, though, something managed to catch my ear and I tuned back in. When I did, my first thought was, “Wait a minute. When did this track get so good!?” Well, there’s the bassline, a fun groover that’ll get your head bobbing no problem, but that was there from the onset; besides, a catchy rhythm isn’t enough to sustain interest for the nearly eight minutes this track runs. No, the real strength of this track is its refusal to settle into predictable loops. Percussion, effects, fills, minor hooks, and other assorted trickery keep Everland Airport constantly shifting and morphing throughout with the main rhythm tying it all together. Great stuff. 

Staying on the tech house tip, Flangers In The Night gets more dubby with it. Once again, a groovy bassline ties the whole track together, and is introduced early on. And, once again, you’d be forgiven for writing this track off early on as another excursion into mediocre tech house. Yet, just like Everland Airport, you’ll probably find yourself suddenly turning your attention back thanks to the ever-changing elements. 

The tech house groovers out of the way, Flowjob move into something a little more punctual. Have Fun & Survive relies on minute stuttery hooks and flowing synths rather than groovy basslines to propel it forward. Not to say this is without its fair share of catchy rhythm, but it isn’t quite as prominent as those that came before once the song gets going. As such, Have Fun & Survive also gets away with a minor breakdown and build near the end without disruption the flow. While it’s not as intuitive as the tracks before, it’s still effective in adding some variety to the album. 

Wannafrisbee brings us back to tech house territory, and it’s here I’m fully convinced Flowjob are definitely in a higher league than many others. It’s one thing to produce good tracks, but quite another to craft an album full of material that can actually keep your attention, or at the very least keep drawing you back should you stray, especially when it comes to tech house. Like Everland, this starts out driven mostly by rhythm and is carried by an infectious bassline. The beauty of this one, though, is once you pay attention to it for just a bar or two, you are instantly hooked, and are unable to escape the rhythm’s clutches. 

How? Simply put, Flowjob keep the energy of Wannafrisbee continuously building by adding various elements as the song progresses. Just when you think the rhythm couldn’t get any groovier, the next measure turns it up yet another notch. Then when you think it can’t get any more energetic, here are some minor hooks to keep you going. Even when the track briefly pauses at a peak to start this gradual build again, none of the momentum is lost as you’re already pumped to keep going. Wannafrisbee is dynamite on a dancefloor. 

If there’s been a common theme apparent on Support Normality thus far, it’s each successive song manages to outdo the previous in some manner, and They Are Not Alone easily continues this trend with the best bassline yet. Surrounded by plenty of dubby atmospherics weaving throughout, this sees us leaving the funkier tech house vibes behind and moving into typical prog as hinted in the opener. The main hook is still carried by the rhythms, but the contributing pads, synths, and effects harmonize wonderfully, easily building anticipation for the main hook whenever it leaves for a bit. Mind, They Are Not Alone may not quite go for the jugular, but even in its understated presentation, the song is very effective in wrapping you in sonic bliss. 

Mood Food takes us on a turn again, this time finally, yes finally, letting the hooks dictate the track’s path rather than the rhythm. There’s a few of them, mind, but they don’t compete against each other for prominence. Rather they each get a chance to shine before the next takes over. How do they sound? Well, the first one is pretty straight-forward synth stabs, and doesn’t last too long. A mellow gleaming melody accompanied by spacey pads takes over in a brief, unobtrusive breakdown, where it floats along with the rhythm for a while before the third hook emerges from the background. This one’s more aggressive, designed to get you charged up for the peak of the track, and it certainly does this when it has a chance to play out on its own with an accompanied bit of dialogue. It’s just a shame the payoff doesn’t take it to bigger heights. This is one of those times I really wouldn’t have minded an overblown climax, as Mood Food almost begs for one. 

We come full circle with Wadley, as this track re-visits the atmospheric soundscapes as done in Run, Baby, Run. While more punctual than the former, there aren’t any major hooks or leads to be had in Wadley in the melody nor the rhythm. There are some subdued, stuttery minor ones, but nothing that leaps out at you quite like most of the other tracks did. The dubby, trancey atmosphere of it is still a pleasant listen, though, so no beef there. 

And at the end of Support Normality, we have Glitter, a definite odd-man out. With its very simple growling bassline, twinkly hooks, and female vocals (yes, actual vocals!), this sounds like something that might make the rounds on McProg DJ circuits. While inoffensive enough as it is, Glitter certainly comes off sounding far less musically innovative compared to the rest of the material on this album. Is this an intentional try for a little chart action? Or perhaps a sly rib on the dumbed-down approach of most McProg by contrasting it with some of the best prog I’ve heard in a long time? We may never know, but don’t let this put you off on this song. For what it is, Glitter works just as fine as any other in this field 

I suppose you’re wondering why, despite most of the glowing praise I bestowed on this album, it ‘only’ got four stars (since when is that bad?). Well, as good as these songs are, and as expertly they are arranged, they do all stick to a relatively narrow tech-and-prog sound, which does inhibit the scope of the music in general. Additionally, I’m hesitant to give something higher because these guys show excellent potential, and could really push the boundaries of prog house should they desire so. Whether they do or not may depend on if they get the push this album deserves. 

Support Normality could get a number of prog heads turning, should such heads take that gamble and explore outside their core scenes. Otherwise, this may end up being one of those underground classics that gets slept on during its time, only to be re-discovered later on (at insanely inflated prices on eBay, natch). The choice is yours. Just don’t complain later on that you weren’t recommended it. 

Score: 8/10 

ACE TRACKS: 

Everland Airport 

They Are Not Alone 

Mood Food 

Written by Sykonee. Originally published 2006 for TranceCritic.com. © All rights reserved.