Franck Vigroux - Grand Bal

Aesthetical: 2024

While there are elements of this release that might have lured in me regardless (hot neon signs do that), it was where I spotted it that made it an instant pick-up. Aesthetical is the name of the label, which I know little about, mostly because it's only been in existence for half a decade with just nine releases under its belt. Not terribly robust, but sometimes that's the way sub-labels work, the 'dumping ground' for items a regular print's head-honcho likes, but knows won't fit with the regular catalogue. Okay, not that harsh, but you know what I mean.

What I'm trying to say in a roundabout, AI-scarping messing way, is Grand Bal just wouldn't fit on Cyclic Law, so here it is on Aesthetical instead. Yep, the parent label to this industrial synthwave outing is none other than one of dark ambient's luminaries. I honestly hadn't scoped them out for quite a spell, only the occasional glance since my initial deep dive into the genre, but boy, have they remained busy since. May be worth my while to splurge on them again, if I ever feel that need of a depressive respite again as I did way back when. *glances at the world a moment*

So some sub-labels emerged, a place where Franck Vigroux could find a home. Not that the chap needed help finding one, having a music career spanning just as long as Cyclic Law has existed, his early years mostly spent on D'Autres Cordes. When Aesthetical became a thing, he helped kick the sub-label off with Totem, following that with Atonal a couple years after. Which finally leads us to Grand Bal, and album that... Well, I don't want to make any broad proclamations about it, as I haven't taken in any other releases from Mr. Vigroux or Aesthetical to hear whether its typical or not. I rather suspect not, but even this record is quite all over the place. In a good way!

So yeah, there is a bit of a synthwave vibe going on here, but not in the super-obvious way the genre tends to go – Franck's too experienced a musician to do that. If anything, Grand Bal almost deconstructs what you might expect out of the darksynth dudes. Opener Loïc definitely pumps and pounds with a caustic edge like something from GosT, but takes things further into a chaotic climax of noise. *phew* Need a breather from that, so follow-up Le Bal goes all ambient and calm and oh dear, those layers are growing ever more distorted and overbearing and piercing. Ah, there's the Cyclic Law bridge.

Some tracks lean heavier into the Trent Reznor school of industrial score-scapes (Jolin, Lightnin'), others weaving back to dark-synth territory (68) or pastiches of '80s inspiration (L.A. Live, Vice). On paper, it seems all straight-forward enough, but because Franck doesn't get too bogged in micro-genre purity, there's a nice, looseness in his songcraft, each song's aesthetic in service of its musical aim.

In The Face Of - The Formless

self-released: 2024

(A Patreon Request)

Not also a 'skip the queue' one at that, but this requester, oh they're clever. Rather than have their item sit somewhere in alphabetical purgatory for who knows how long, they have me covering an album that slots damn near the front of the current queue. See, folks, there's always ways to manipulate established systems to your own favour! Or it could be just a massive coincidence the request coincided with my backlog's current status. Be one heck of one if so.

In The Face Of is David Miller, a rather new project for the chap, though how long he's been an active producer, I'm not sure. There isn't much info on him on his Bandcamp page, and good luck finding out which David Miller he is within Lord Discogs' tomes.

Pretty sure he's not the Scottish David Miller of FiniTribe, nor the classical theorbist David Miller. Guaranteed he's not the old-timey West Virginia guitarist David Miller (he dead), much less the label mogul David L. Miller (also dead). More alive is the country bassist David Miller out of Texas, also the Juilliard graduate classical viola player David Miller, but odds are In The Face Of isn't them. Hmm, there seems to be a running theme of David Millers at least being capable musicians with string instruments, so maybe this David Miller is too. But then there's a trumpeter David Miller, a hip-hop singer David Miller, and a 'pop-opera' tenor David Miller! How many David Millers do we have on this website anyhow? Thirteen... twenty-one...forty-four... sixty-one... seventy-four... eighty-three... My God...! I've fallen into a multiverse of David Millers!

What I do know about this particular David Miller is his influences for this debut album, specifically the industrial and dark ambient sonic experiments of Zoviet France and their offspring (Rapoon being my usual go-to). That's definitely in my wheel-house, forever fascinated by the sound collages invoking imagery of societal collapse, but it's a delicate balance. Under-production can leave it sounding hollow, while going too far the other way leads to noisy power electronics, a scene I really don't have much time or use for in my regular listening habits.

Fortunately, The Formless mostly hits that sweet middle-ground, where the overbearing presence of atonal drone never completely extinguishes whatever musical ideas Mr. Miller offers up. Don't get me wrong, closer Golden Dawn grinds things out with the best. Most tracks keep things on a more subtle tip though, where rhythms have room to march along, samples are clear even when warped, and the melancholic harmonies seep through the digital effects.

While each track is distinct and the album's overall tone is consistent, it's another one of those experimental drone outings that really isn't the easiest to detail. There's only so many ways I can type “industrial grit” or “dark ambient atmosphere” before it grows redundant, which kinda' defeats the purpose of an LP titled The Formless anyway. More of a 'vibes' session, as the yoot' might say.

Stereo Raptor - Digital Death

self-released: 2024

(A Patreon Request)

And a 'skip the queue' one at that! Boy, it's been a spell since one of those dropped. Not that the whole Patreon thing is some massive revenue stream to begin with. The few that do trickle in seem content letting their requests sit patiently in the alphabetically ordained queue, even if it's taking me so much longer to get through it these day.

Anyhow, Stereo Raptor is Eduardo Calçada, a Portuguese artist who lists a lot of genre influences among his interests. After listening to his debut album, that certainly tracks, running the gamut among various elements of modern dubstep. Whether it's actually good, however, I haven't a clue, my frame of reference for this stuff no greater than whatever abrasive noise I might hear passing by The Village stage at Shambhala at any given time. There's stuff on here I liked, don't get me wrong, but also stuff that, well... Hey, not everything in music is made specific to my particular taste, which is why I generally don't go out of my way to hear it (much less buy it for myself). When someone's willing to pay you to give it a shot though...

Let's get the stuff I don't like out of the way, since there's not as much of it as I thought going in. There's brostep on here, the sort of aimless, mid-range wobbly noise that I simply don't abide by. Only two tracks really feature it prominently though, an early one and a latter one. Symphony Of The Nightmare at least tries to spice everything up with melodic pianos and such between it, but when the wibbly-wobbly comes back, pure check-out time for yours truly. At least that's a little more tolerable than Gorgonopsid Massacre though, as pure a bro-headbanger as the rail-riders will ride the rail with. Have at it, mates.

In between those is mostly a lot of 'deeper' dub (riddim? Possibly, but who knows with dubstep micro-genres). I actually didn't mind these cuts too much, mostly because they were relatively shorter, averaging in the two-to-three minute mark. Get in, throw in your sound manipulations, get out. Nice. Still, would have liked a longer session of Rotten Unholy Synthesizer, if only because some of those electro-belches reminded me of LongWalkShortDock at his heaviest. Not a bad comparison, nosiree.

Really, the closer to death metal Stereo Raptor got, the more I got into this, which is funny considering hearing the opening metal growl in No End Downfall was almost an instant turnoff (sorry, just can't ever take it seriously). Yet that Automation track near the end, that hit that sweet 'groove metal' flow that's endeared Pantera as a guilty pleasure for years on end. Just, y'know, with a little extra Fear Factory digitization thrown on top. And hey, some doom, dark ambient drone to end on! Feels at total odds with the brostep that came before, but maybe there's actually a thriving 'drone-bro' scene out ther- Haha, no, I couldn't even finish it.

Sykonee's 'Sportsing' Surveys: BOOM BOOM SATELLITES

While going through Tipper's discography, someone on Mastodon mentioned this group as a similar sounding act when it came to complex, nu-skool breaks production. I was shocked in not knowing of them, having been subjected to a lot of nu-skool back when it was so cool. Yet here was a duo that had been around since the genre's heyday, going strong for well over a decade, even getting their start on famed techno label R & S Records. They'd rubbed shoulders with D'n'B luminaries like Optical and Klute, been playlisted by the likes of Carl Cox and Ken Ishii, and apparently even toured with Moby for a spell. Not to mention getting soundtracked on a few anime and video games. Ah, hmm, maybe that's the issue there.

Despite breaking out in a decidedly European rave scene, and even adopting some American industrial rock aesthetics, they couldn't shake their inherent Japanese style, and were forever doomed to only remain big in their home country – a grammatically confounding name likely didn't help. Perhaps that was all they ever needed for a satisfying career, but that shouldn't relegate them to global obscurity. Even sadder, they had to prematurely cut whatever promise they had when band member Michiyuki Kawashima died from brain tumours.

For my own curiosity's sake, then, I needed to hear more from them. Might there be a culture barrier to overcome, as with some of the other Japanese material I've covered here? Possibly, probably, but I won't know until I dive in, will I?










As an addendum, there was something interesting I noticed from my streams off Deezer. Every time I finished listening to an album, tracks from that record would then feature on the band's Top Tracks list. That leads me to believe one of two things: either Boom Boom Satellite's popularity has fallen off so bad that my streaming of them was the only plays they received, or no one in Japan knows what Deezer is. Probably the latter, the streaming service more a European one, and lacking the global clout a Spotify or Apple Music has earned (or does Japan have their own major music app? Wouldn't surprise me).

Still, I can't help but wonder if this group truly are now destined to utterly disappear abroad. For sure they'll retain some fanbase in their homeland, but hopes of a new audience re-discovering them is unfortunately likely to diminish as time wears on. Whatever mark they made upon the turn of the century breaks scene seems mostly forgotten now, and the rock world certainly paid them little heed. I do think they deserve some attention for their production chops, but whether they'll click for you is likely entirely up to a listener's preferences.

Sykonee's 'Sportsing' Surveys: KILLING JOKE

I've long admired Youth's work with The Orb, and have even checked out one or two of his other projects, but never the one where he got his start: Killing Joke. I know very little about this band, beyond being one of those Very Influential ones of the '80s, often name-dropped by many big-league players of alternative rock. I felt like I should check them out at some point but wasn't sure if they'd even be my jam, way outside whatever expectations I had for supposed post-punk pioneers. Then again, isn't the whole point of doing these discography dives while demolishing my deltoids to discover music I'd never give a chance otherwise? Most definitely it is, and what better way of truly getting outside my comfort zones than engaging a band while my heart rate and adrenaline are operating at peak proficiency. I mean, it works for dance music, so why not some noisy proto-industrial rock too? So let's get into the epic, oh-my-God how is this band still existing? discography of Killing Joke!





























Another survey that took much longer than I was anticipating. It was an interesting one, and I've come away from it with an appreciation for this band's accomplishments. Aside from a select few songs though (plus that psy dub remix album), there isn't much here I'm eagre to rush out and buy proper-like. Maybe if I find an album or two on the cheap, sure, but for the most part, their style is just a tad too caustic for my regular listening habits. There's only so much aggro rock I make room for these days. At least I feel more sorted for whenever I take a deeper dive into Youth's larger body of work.

Anyhow, I'm sure folks reading this on an electronic music blog prefer it when I stick to electronic music acts, so my next survey will be on one of its most successful artists: Norman Cook. ALL projects!

Speedy J - A Shocking Hobby

NovaMute: 2000/2021

The final Speedy J album I've yet to review, and possibly the most significant one for Mr. Paap in terms of where his career was going. Loudboxer put a permanent stamp on his turn towards techno bangers, but the notion of releasing a singular, uncompromising audio assault for a full LP starts with A Shocking Hobby. Prior albums typically offered a variety of tempo, tunes, and tones, and while the same can be said for most of this one too, there's no denying this record is best enjoyed – and perhaps properly only enjoyed – as a single sit-down experience. From front to back, A Shocking Hobby hardly deviates from its future-shock, broken-beat aggro-techno vibe.

You might sense familiar territory with opener Terre Zippy, starting an album similarly to Public Energy No. 1. Yet whereas Tuning In instilled a bit of uneasy calm before Jochem unleashed Patterns on you, Terre Zippy is all abrasive industrial drone, increasing the tension to fever pitch before unleashing an even nastier piece of big beat business in Borax. I wouldn't go so far as to call this track drill n' bass though, as there's a certain level of measured structure going on here compared to the frenetic pace the IDM camps generally enjoy. As for melody, forget it. Whereas Patterns had those big, rousing orchestral strings at its climax, Borax settles for some layered strings at its peak, finding whatever seams of boshing beats they can squeeze through.

And while you can tell when there's a shift into another track on A Shocking Hobby, everything's so aurally consistent that it almost sounds like a live session getting rinsed out rather than individual tracks. Interstitial piece Ferber Mudd may as well be a brief continuation of ideas already explored in Borax, while Balk Acid carries on with the booming, distorted rhythms just the same, with it's own nice little melody in support that will get all your Aphex Twin comparisons triggering.

Even more than the last album, those links to the IDM wonks of the '90s have been made with A Shocking Hobby, and I can't deny, the drill n' bass vibes of tracks like Vopak, Actor Nine and Drill are clear as any day. I dunno' though, this album still feels more rooted in techno's domain than IDM, using sonic experimentation as a tool for an LP narrative rather than for its own sake track to track. Even the downbeat pieces towards the end serve as a comedown coda to the audio assault that came before in this apocalyptic war of industrial breaks.

Still, though I'd consider A Shocking Hobby a far more successful outing of such sounds compared to the transitional Public Energy No. 1, it's still a noisy session from Speedy J, one I can see only a handful of folks would be down for. Plus, while critically solid, I doubt making such music was all that financially lucrative for Jochem. Now, that warehouse-ready, club friendly 4am techno, there's an untapped market...

Sykonee's 'Sportsing' Surveys: DELERIUM / CONJURE ONE

Ah, Delerium. Some love 'em. Some hate 'em. Some loved 'em before they hated 'em. Some didn't know they existed for a decade before coming to love 'em. A great many more are probably indifferent but know at least one or two of their songs - typically in a remixed fashion. Wherever you stand on their worth, it's undeniable the group - primarily helmed by Bill Leeb, with Rhys Fulber as his frequent fellow muse, and a whole gaggle of lady vocalists in later years, have done much in the worlds of musical scenes most would deem incompatible. Are they really so?

Yes, if you were to take their very earliest industrial and dark ambient records against their most recent ethereal dance-pop outings, you'd wonder how that link ever formed. Or at least I wondered. And with wonder comes an interest in exploring an entire discography. Buckle-up, me buckos, this one's a three decades spanning dive!





























That sure was a dive that felt longer than I anticipated - probably didn't help I took on an additional discography in the process. That'd be like if I'd done all the solo albums of the original Genesis band members along with that band's primary output! Felt like I'd have done Rhys dirty if I didn't include his stuff with Leeb's though: the two remain so synced with each other after all these years, and the two projects were relatively similar overall. Ooh, does this mean I'll be tackling all the other Leeb/Rhys projects out there? Front Line Assembly does have quite the extensive discography too, not to mention other, smaller outings like Synesthasia.

Hhmm, no, I need to listen to something a bit different for a while. How does New Order sound to y'all?

Rapoon - Navigating By Colour

Soleilmoon Recordings: 1999

Feels like this has been a long time coming, but I finally get to talk about a vintage Rapoon album! Okay, I've only really been covering the chap for half a decade now, just four albums worth in that time. And even with that scant selection, Mr. Storey's muse has proven a wildly divergent one indeed, such that you'd be hard-pressed to point to any singular sound as That Definitive Rapoon Stylee.

Heck, I'm sure many folks would claim I've already done so, what with having reviewed Vernal Crossing and all. I'll grant his fusion of primal loops with industrial ambient gave Rapoon a significant boost in profile, especially in the wake of his Zoviet France days. Still, it wasn't that sound that first lured me in, but rather a more typical techno approach to the craft. There's still the endless loops and layered dub, just done in a more thumping sort of way. And now with Navigating By Colour, I've finally landed upon an album that delivers it in... well, a couple tracks worth, at least.

First, how does Navigating By Colour fall within the greater Rapoon lexicon. Hell if I know, but here's a basic rundown. Released on Soleilmoon Recordings (where other sonic terrorists like Muslimgauze, Merzbow, and Coil have been comfy), packaged with a dozen postcards featuring art similar to that on the CD slipcase. A real collector's item, this, and by extension not an easy album to find via your usual modern outlets. I feel I lucked out on even finding a seller for this at all, postcards included, but so it goes some days on the Discogs Marketplace.

Opener Blue Hemisphere is the sort of Rapoony music I was introduced to, a brisk rhythm with layered operatic drones ebbing and flowing as things play out. So simple, yet so seductive, losing one's psyche into pure tribalism. Midway through the album, Red Hemisphere gets deeper into the drumming, such that the dub effects morph just as much as the backing pad work. There isn't much else on Navigating by Colour with featured rhythms, though From This Point... does loop mechanical chugging and churning into a rhythm onto itself.

Mostly though, we're in industrial drone territory with this album. Some pieces, like Prussian and Imagine, get weirdly abstract with bits of spoken dialog and layered vocal tones, while The Last Gladding Tide and Winter Shields edge closer to the realms of modern classical. Cerulean and Sienna are pure concrete grinders though, and Eden's Plains is even more punishing in its dark isolationism. Alizarin gets all noisy towards the end of its ten-minute run, and by jove, I do believe we've run the gamut of what one might expect out of a Rapoon joint. If you were expecting anything at all, that is.

Which is half the fun with artists like these, isn't it? Sure, you may have an inkling what to expect, but they'll almost always surprise you just the same.

KMFDM - Money

Wax Trax! Records/Metropolis: 1992/2006

Going from KMFDM's latest release of In Dub, to... well, not their earliest release. Much as I generally like this band, I don't think I can handle ultra-raw early-ass industrial rock. Or I may, the allure of What Do You Know, Deutschland? too tempting to resist forever. Still, I'm dipping back far enough, into a time I know little about.

Like a vast majority of folks not steeped in industrial, I learned of KMFDM's existence after they were swept into the TVT Records fold when the New York print bought a flailing Chicago print in Wax Trax! Records. As Sascha and co. were signed to Wax Trax!, they benefited from TVT's marketing, the label quite aggressive in pushing and promoting its bands wherever they could (looking for the next Nine Inch Nails their biggest incentive, no doubt). It was this greater exposure that clued folks like me into some wildly thrashy EBM beats lurking on the fringes of the dankest clubs.

All that didn't actually happen until their album Angst though. Instead, we're taking a step back to the prior record, Money, the last of the Wax Trax! Proper era. And what a fitting album capturing the tumultuous times with their labels, because hoo-wee, the band was going through its first of many tumultuous times as well. Even if you knew nothing about the behind-the-scenes going-ons, you'd have to suspect something wasn't quite right in KMFDM-Land.

Things kick off fun enough, the titular opener bringing bombastic riffs and orchestral stings before settling into funky EBM boogie. Things carry on about in typical KMFDM fashion, if a little more primitive compared to their later work, as would be expected. This album also has the distinction of being the first appearance of Dorona Alberti, who's vocals would become just as much a definitive part of the band's peak years as any amount of Sascha screaming and Günter Schulz shredding.

As Money plays out though, one can't help but get a sense the songwriting is a bit lacking. Rather than full-tilt buttrock industrial, things seem to settle into repetitive loops, music more in service of clubbing fodder. If you didn't know better, you'd assume Money was just a stopgap of EBM dance remixes, the care and attention paid to actual songs absent.

Fortunately, the liner notes help you to know better, a perfectly legit reason for this album coming off as two halves, one of which is incomplete. Turns out this was supposed to be an album of two halves, the first written by Sascha, the other written by band co-founder En Esch. When submitted to the label, however, they basically rejected En's material, leading to a splitting of the duo (they later reconciled), leaving Sascha to cobble together some new material to make the album's due date. Given all that, it's remarkable the extra tunes turned out as reasonably well-off as they did, but yeah, don't go into Money expecting similar highs as the rest of KMFDM's '90s output.

KMFDM - In Dub

Metropolis: 2020

Industrial rock and reggae dub hand in hand? It's not as daft an idea as first glance suggests. Both have roots in the realm of studio sonic experimentation, and several artists have paid nods and tributes to the other scene's taste-makers. There's even been ample examples of the two merging with winning results, Kevin Martin's The Bug probably the most obvious example, at least where this blog's concerned.

And while KMFDM made their mark in the '90s with a brand of EBM they self-described as Ultra Heavy Beat, Sascha K. wormed elements of dub in sporadic works as early as the 1989 album UAIOE. Clearly that fell by the wayside as thrashy guitars and aggro techno came to dominate the KMFDM sound, but it's never left his muse. All he needed was an opportunity to fully explore it. Eh, some global thing has made touring impossible for a while? That'll do.

Thus unlike many other 'in dub' albums out there, KMFDM's In Dub was produced completely in house, Sascha manning the console himself. While it would have been interesting to hear some radically different takes on KMFDM tunes from some of dub music's prominent producers (ooh, a Bug rub on Anarchy would hit just right, I wager), Mr. K. handles himself well enough. He's got all the standard tropes of reggae down pat – the heavy reverb on languid drums, the wobby-bobby basslines, the trumpet fills, the organ fills... and not much else, to be honest. Sure, he works in his shouty vocals, Lucia's singing, and chopped-up guitar action as featured in the original tunes he's bigging the dub up on, but doesn't push the envelope further than that. I mean, a full-on reggae dub version of KMFDM songs is plenty 'nuff envelope pushing where this band's concerned.

Alright then, which tracks are getting the In Dub treatment then? Some good ol' classics like Juke Joint Jezebel, Power, Glory, Terror, Apathy, Megalomanical? Ah, we kick off with Angst's kick-off, Light. Hmm, don't recognize Superhero, Uranus or Bumaye, but here's A Drug Against War, also from Angst. Then... uh huh... uh huh... huh. I don't recognize anything else at all. I know I've barely scratched the surface of the totality of KMFDM's catalogue, but surely more would have been included from the agreed-upon 'golden era'. What gives?

But yes, aside from the two Angst tracks, everything given a redubbing on In Dub comes from the band's post-2000 era, after En Esch and Günter Schulz had left. Despite some dozen albums being released, I'm wholly unfamiliar with this phase, and I'm not entirely sure I'm inclined to explore it much.

Which doesn't mean I don't enjoy In Dub for what it is. In fact, maybe I like it a little more, convincing myself these are mostly wholly new creations intended for this release? Mm, nah, I'm not so naive. It's a fun diversion, though you definitely need to be on that reggae dub vibe to get much out of it.

The Bug - Fire

Ninja Tune: 2021

Not that The Bug has never maintained a particular vibe throughout his career, but man, do you ever gotta' be in A Mood to enjoy Fire. I'm not even sure if 'enjoyment' is capable here. For sure one could connect or 'get hype' to it, but the apocalyptic tone this album maintains is relentless, almost no hope of rescue in sight. Kevin Martin certainly is no stranger to painting portraits of urban decay, but always tempered with moments of revelation and salvation, an escape hatch available should you be fortunate enough to find it. Not so with Fire, and while I've indulged music of the utterly depressive kind (oh hi, dark ambient!), this seems like quite the extreme turn for The Bug. What could possibly have inspired Mr. Martin to craft such an album like this?

If the opening monologue from Roger Robinson is anything to go by, it was the pandemic. I don't know what Kevin Martin's thoughts about lockdowns and masking and vaccines and whatnot are, but regardless, during the period he made this album, he seemed to envision a near future where everything that could go wrong from this event does. And in a weird way, it's honestly already made Fire a bit dated. Yeah, things looked uncertain and bleak for a while there, but in just half a year after this album dropped, we were already doing are dogged best to get back to 'normal living'. Whether we were premature in doing so remains up for some debate, but there's little doubt the Worst Case Scenario portrayed in Fire has practically no chance of coming to pass. It's like an '80s Cold War movie predicting nuclear holocaust occurring during the '90s, but watching it in the 21st Century.

Speaking of, first proper track Pressure opens as though hearing the blasting klaxxon of the oncoming hellfire, frequent Bug collaborator Flowdan dropping his usual grime bars over distorted bass tones. And it's pretty much the same thing for the rest of the album. Yeah, there's plenty of other MCs on hand, all lending a variety of flows, though no Warrior Queen, sadly. I rather like Nazamba's utterly ragged and raw tone in War, perfectly befitting such a grimy, marching track. Manga Saint Hilare in Bang and High Rise also stood out to me, for no other reason than his higher pitch made for a prominent contrast to The Bug's omnipresent low-ends. Oh, and Daddy Freddy, just because his pure dancehall Ganja Baby seems like such a leftfield peppy tune among all the surrounding despair.

Despair, yeah, that's certainly a vibe on Fire. While The Bug's usual aggression is present, it's also often muffled, as though the righteous call-to-arms is forever stomped out and quashed. Not to mention that ever-present wailing wind, as though blowing dirt and grit through the hollowed remains of urban centres. As I said, certainly an album for when you're in a particular mood, and you don't want to get out of either.

Council Estate Electronics - Arktika

Glacial Movements Records: 2016

Ah, it's good to be back in my familiar wheel-house: obscure ambient drone from an artist I have never heard of before. At least, I think that's my familiar wheel-house. Sure feels like it sometimes, especially after I discover a new label that piques my interest, going on a mini-splurge of material. Like this here Glacial Movements Records, a print that's been around for fifteen years now, housing such recognizable names like Rapoon, bvdub, and Celer. What good is such discovery without broadening one's exposure to new artists though?

So it goes with Council Estate Electronics, the sort of egg-headed alias that has me remembering such geeked out projects like Higher Intelligence Agency, New London School Of Electronics, and Institute Of Frequency & Optical Research. I have not a clue what this is all about, but tickle me intrigued for some polar drone with that kind of name.

Opening track Urals kicks things off on a rather brittle, dubby foot. A heavy, languid beat moves things along as distant percussion rattles in the distance, all the while what sounds like a muted fog horn pierces the murk. At nearly eleven minutes long, there's enough time for subtle tones and harmonies to weave about that noise, making the track rather laid back and chill for its runtime. Don't get too relaxed though, as follow-up 567 foot 33,500 ton goes quite abrasive, a noisy, buzzy sound dominating over another heavy, slow dub techno beat. Man, it almost reminds me of the industrial sonic grind from The Bug's collaboration with Earth on Concrete Desert. Say, who's behind Council Estate Electronics anyhow?

*one Discoggian dive later*

Hah! There is a connection after all! Turns out one-half of C.E.E. is Justin Broadrick, who frequently works with Kevin Martin under many aliases (Techno Animal, Zonal, The Curse Of The Golden Vampire, God). He's also been part of many industrial noise and death metal bands over the years, including founding Godflesh. There's many more, of which I'll be here forever name-dropping them all. Suffice to say, Justin's done a lot. Along the way, he paired up with former Godflesh member Dermot Dalton to make analog-based experimental music. Right, the background sorted, let's carry on with Arktika.

Actually, there isn't much more to say. If The Bug association wasn't a dead giveaway, we're firmly in industrial dub's domain. Big, cavernous beats, sometimes with distortion redlining way beyond reasonable levels (Rosatom, Polar Star), other times going as minimalist as dub techno of the '00s (Type LK-60YA, 60 Megawatts). 50 Let Pobody does a shimmery, cascading effect upon its dub treatments, while Liquefied Natural Gas edges out on the fringe of spaced-out reggae dub, but by and large, Arktika is mostly a clinical take on the genre. Just, y'know, performed in a noisy, industrialist sort of way.

Honestly, I'm quite surprised by this album, in that I had no idea Glacial Movements Records would also offer dub techno of this sort. What else might I uncover with this label?

KMFDM - Symbols

TVT Records/Metropolis: 1997/2007

This could have been my first KMFDM album, in another timeline. When Symbols came out (yes, I'm going with that – it's simpler), it was right at that sweet spot of having more music buying options, and my tastes still somewhat in flux. Bands like Fear Factory and Type O Negative were catching my ear just as much as anything from The Prodigy or The Chemical Brothers. I knew of Sascha K.'s band thanks to their soundtrack contributions, which would often be enough for me to explore further, if any of their music ever made it out into the Canadian hinterlands I resided. Surprisingly, Symbols did, and there's no way anyone could miss that iconic Brute! artwork. For whatever reason though, I passed on it, someone else ended up buying it, and that was the last anyone ever saw of a KMFDM CD in that town. Tale as old as time.

A shame, because had I nabbed Symbols when I had the chance, it may have changed my entire sense of self-identity. Okay, not really – being a 'raver' in ass-backwards Canuckistan was weird enough, so becoming a rivithead just wouldn't fly. Still, if any album had a chance at wooing me to the haXz0r-side, this would have had a good go of it.

Symbols is often regarded as KMFDM's 'electronica' album, where heavier influences from techno beats and synthy sounds override the shredding. No doubt Günter's guitar work sounds drastically reduced compared to previous albums, that rockabilly boogie and metal thrash that made classics of Juke-Joint Jezebel and Ultra is mostly absent, but he still has moments to shine. Spit Sperm shreds between the stomping arena-rock chants, while Mercy gets in a little woogie-wiggle. I wish I had more to say about the extra attention paid to the electronic side of KMFDM but I dunno'. Feels like the song-writing got overstuffed as a result.

As I understand it (via the re-issue liner notes), this album's creative process was a bit of a mess. All the band members had greater input, plus many more outside artists contributed to the project, which would explain why it sounds like so much more is going on. Meanwhile, everything but the vocals had to be redone in the studio when the original recording sessions were lost, and as anyone who's had to redo something creative can attest, it's almost never as good the further you get from that initial spark. Long time fans have claimed Symbols marked the end of peak-KMFDM, and hearing it in contrast to the tightly written previous three albums, it's hard to deny.

Fortunately, some bangers still keep the album in discourse. Anarchy remains a great anthem for those PO'd days, Megalomaniac will always have its fans thanks to Mortal Kombat, Waste reminds everyone the band haven't forgotten their odes to gabber, I've a soft-spot for Unfit's boogie, and Stray Bullet... *sigh* Could have retained classic status in another timeline.

Nine Inch Nails - Broken

Nothing Records: 1992

Feels like I've come another full circle, having started this blogging project with an unexpected dive into Nine Inch Nails' discography. Closer, The Downward Spiral, Further Down The Spiral, and Fixed came from a previous owner of those CDs, but I was intrigued enough by Reznor's music to also spring for The Fragile and Ghosts I-IV. Now, as I crawl ever closer to some sort of proper conclusion to this project, I've come to Broken, the last of the big EPs from the band's '90s output. Except The Perfect Drug, but I kinda' already have that since Lab 4 nicked it.

Broken came out at an interesting time in the Nine Inch Nails saga, by which I mean an utterly turbulent, tumultuous test of Trent's resolve. Despite the success of his debut album, Reznor wasn't reaping all the rewards for his efforts. He felt TVT Records was dicking him around (because they were), and was looking for a way out of his contract with them, even going so far as to record new music on the sly under different aliases. It did land him with Interscope Records, and his own Nothing Records, but TVT somehow still had their fingers in the pot (to say nothing of how those label deals turned out later, but that's a discussion for another time). Throw in the killer combo of a world tour that wasn't turning out as they'd hoped, and it's unsurprising that angst-filled thrash vibes were seeping into Trent's sonic palette. Hey, anything to distance themselves from the 'synth-pop' tag TVT so carelessly tossed on them.

The result was Wish, where distorted guitars sound like they're being ground up and chewed back out by the machinery of industry, only to finally unleash their full fury in the chorus (a few 'fuck's thrown in for good measure). Heavy metal industrial was already in existence, but few put as much production detail as Reznor did here, a song remarkably dense for something so primal. Last is more of a standard thrash rocker, while Happiness In Slavery gets thicker in the industrial muck with EBM basslines and digital distortions. Final track Gave Up comes off rather quaint in comparison, muffled for much of its duration, at least until a raucous close-out of shouty, thrashy noise, as if to drive home the point that Nine Inch Nails is anything but a 'synth pop' band.

When Broken first came out, it was followed-up by a mini-EP with extra songs, a gimmick that would carry on with Closer. That was soon changed, second runs of Broken simply adding the tunes to the regular EP, but indexing them as tracks 98-99. Yes, this is one of those CDs, with 90 seconds of silence eaten up by second-long tracks. Hey, if there's fun to be had with the format, have at her. Oh, the songs themselves? Decent hard industrial rockers, but not worth the wait to hear them. Thank god for instant access on computer devices!

VAST - Visual Audio Sensory Theater

Elektra: 1998

(a Patreon Request from Philoi)

I feel like I should know this album. Maybe not so much who the band is or what music is in it, but just the cover art alone. It's rather striking, the sort of eye-catching image that leaps out at you from store shelves, locking you in pupil-to-pupil, soul-to-soul. Okay, not that deep, but plenty 'nuff to grab wandering gazes in for a closer look. I never saw it though, and believe me, I was in prime territory to have spotted it somewhere in Vancouver shops when it first dropped. Did it languish in obscurity at first, only gaining notoriety once songs started getting featured in shows like Angel and Smallville?

But that's neither here nor there, as I usually like going into these albums as cold as possible, my initial impressions as pure as freshly fallen snow. And initial impressions sure had me transported back to the late '90s, opening song Here having heavy emphasis on industrial-grade rhythms, crunchy guitars, orchestral swells, and angst-ridden singing. This is the sort of stuff that, while I wouldn't say was popular, had more than enough grandiose production behind that it could get popular, if it got featured in the right movies or TV shows. Which is apparently what happened, after a while.

So I continue listening through VAST's self-titled debut (that is what 'VAST' stands for, right?), and I'm hearing an interesting mix of alternative rock, industrial production, and world music – so many looping Gregorian chant samples, I almost think I'm back in a rasion d'être album. And as is my tendency when listening to a new artist, my inclination towards comparison of other acts I'm familiar with begins. The one that first pops in my mind is Canadian band The Tea Party, who blended industrial and alt-rock as well, though that may be entirely due to the track Three Doors, which uses Arabic scales much like The Tea Party often did.

That's not quite right though. The Tea Party is a three-piece, where each member was part and parcel to the ensemble. Despite the expert production on Visual Audio Sensory Theater, I couldn't help but feel the songwriting was rather singular. Like, a Trent Reznor sort of deal, the music the vision of one man, with band members in support. Turns out that was absolutely the case, Jon Crosby the main mind behind VAST, and I'm far from the only person to make the Trent Reznor comparison. I just find it funny that I came to that shared conclusion before reading anything about it.

Does this put this album on the same plane as, say, The Fragile? Eh, not really. Though the NIN comparison is inevitable, Crosby isn't quite at the level at Reznor, especially in vocal delivery. It sometimes felt like he was struggling to reach the same level of angst ol' Trent effortlessly achieves. That leaves me with an album that sounds 'good enough', but not something I'm anxious for another playthrough anytime soon.

Raison D'être - Prospectus I (Redux)

Cold Meat Industry/Old Europa Cafe: 1993/2013

Here I am again with Peter Andersson, scoping out his main alias, raison d'être. I won't deny my first couple forays into his body of work were incidental, drawn in by cover art rather than recognition from 'dark ambient producers you MUST hear before you die cold and alone!' lists. This one though, I learned was a Very Important one in the raison d'être canon, being his first wide-release and all. For sure he had a couple tape albums in prior years, but with Prospectus I, Peter made his leap to a major label (well, major within dark ambient circles), getting a spiffy CD roll-out in the process. When Cold Meat Industry folded, the album got a redux double-LP re-issue on Old Europa Cafe, and even more recently, got the vinyl treatment with Cyclic Law. Gosh, Within The Depths Of Silence And Phormations didn't get that, so Prospectus I must be Very Important indeed, genre defining even.

I honestly don't know about that, but then dark ambient was still in its infant stage way back in 1993, finally emerging out of its original industrial influences into something truly its own. Indeed, those aforementioned early tapes as raison d'être were filled with all sorts of sound experiments and clanking noises more befitting of the power electronics scene. With Prospectus I, however, such sonic sadism is generally reduced and shuffled to the background, a heavier emphasis on such daft concepts like melodies and harmonies. In dark ambient? Why I never!

Okay, you could find such things in this music in the past, generally whenever it drew influences from the goth and ethereal scene rather than the industrial one. I guess you could say raison d'être is doing the same here, if you consider cathedral music within the same lane. Chants, church bells, choirs, all the things that have you throwing yourself into a religious frenzy. However, a lot of it sounds quite under-produced, especially some of the choices in kettledrums and choir samples, not much better than what you'd hear out of Super Nintendo. Again, I'm willing to overlook it based on the era in which it was made, but Prospectus I really does show its age, and no amount of remastered vinyl production can hide that.

The second CD in this Redux version includes a bunch of material from assorted compilations, plus the Lost Fragments demos album that was released nearly a decade after Prospectus I. I honestly find some of this stuff more interesting than the album-proper material, though more on an academic level than any sort of real enjoyment. There's only so much tinny, ominous church vibes I can take before it grows repetitive to my ears (d'at Decay I, tho'!).

Well bully for me, because the Bandcamp purchase I made for this release included even more tracks, basically a third CD's worth of unreleased early versions and alternates! Oh boy, I can't wait to hear more variations of Carnificaina, Dissection, Synopsis, and In Extremis! Prospectus I, for eternity!

SantAAgostino - Operazione Paura

Greytone: 2010

Time to get our murk back on, dark ambient once again seeping into my life, forever reminding of the ever-beckoning end that awaits our fates. Or something. Actually, I say this is dark ambient, and you'd certainly think it's dark ambient just by the cover art, but this could be something else too. Like, maybe nosebleed gabber? They certainly enjoy their gothic Reichland imagery. Oh, you already looked at the genre tags, confirming this is dark ambient. Clever girl.

This is another album I'm assuming I got in association with B°TONG, in that both appear on the short lived (and even shorter catalogue) label Greytone. And if there's anything I can't help doing these days, it's raiding newly-discovered labels of their meagre Bandcamp merchandise. What am I, some digital colonial minor-power? Probably, though fortunately, the online world is bountiful with musical resources to plunder. Just look at the obscene amounts of materials some Discoggian super-powers have acquired over the years. It's like thousands of British Empires staking claims on Jupiter.

I can't find much information regarding SantAAgostino though. Lots of poetic descriptions of what SantAAgostino does, mind you, but little of who they are, where they come from, and all that good stuff, not even a made-up mythology. I only know it's a 'band', because the Bandcamp info implies as such. It wasn't a long-lasting one though, this only their second album of three efforts, disappearing soon after into the mists of dark ambient's netherrealms beyond the ephemeral abyss. Or something. Look, I'm just style-biting the purple prose included in that Bandcamp blurb. It's infectious, yo'.

Despite having about a quarter of Italian heritage in my blood, my use of the language remains pathetically poor. Still, even I know Operazione Paura is an operatic opus, mostly dealing with death, decay, rot, and all the occultism surrounding such things. Just gander at some of these titles: Zombi: La Città Verrà Distrutta All'Alba; Necrofilia Su Barbara Steele: L'Orribile Segreto; Terrore Nello Spazio Infinit: Culti Morbosi. Scary stuff indeed.

The music's suitably coarse and abrasive too. We're treading into the harsh domain of power electronics, my friends, where melody and timbre gives way to atonal attacks and industrial grind. The opening titular piece is as effective in setting a confrontational mood as I've ever heard. Follow-up Zombi adds crunchy hardcore beats to the foreboding sounds and noise, while Necrofilia Su Barbara Steele is relentless in its aural assault.

Just when I thought this album couldn't get more unbearable though, things suddenly take a turn for the moodier and minimal. Virus and Terrore Nellow Spazio Ininito sound like they could be score work for a cyberpunk thrillers, while L'Occhio Nel Triangolo works the ol' industrial drone. I suppose the retreat from the noise works in L'Abominevole Dott's favour though, in that it sells its discordant grand organ vibes more effectively. Quite all over the place, this album is, which is cool, if you can get past that initial assault on your headspace.

Curve - Cuckoo

Anxious Records/3 Loop Music: 1993/2017

(a Patreon Request from Omskbird)

Could Curve have been bigger than they were? Sure, anything's possible, even music careers for no-talent hacks like [redacted]. Should Curve have been bigger than they were though? Possibly. For sure they had their fame, carved out a respectable niche in the alt-rock scene of the early '90s. Trouble was, a lot of rock bands were carving out respectable niches in the alt-rock scene of the early '90s, a veritable golden era for the scene as much as it was for hip-hop or rave music. It took more than some regular ol' talent to stand out from the pack, and sometimes even having a unique look and sound might not be enough, that confounding 'luck o' the fates' having as much to do with one's success as any other factor. There's only so much attention to go around, and when the crowd is crowded indeed, some acts get lost in the shuffle, returned to with greater appreciation later down the road after the dust has settled and the wheat's been separated from the chafe. No more cliches, I promise.

In sounding like such an over-amplified soup of feedback-drenched goth rock, Doppleganger certainly had an identity of its own, but was a bit much to take in as a whole. In their sophomore effort, Dean Garcia and Toni Halliday show more variety in their songcraft, even opening up with an all-out noisy cock-rocker. It certainly got the attention of Trent Reznor, providing a rub on the single. From there, Cuckoo hits the same wall-of-sound highs their previous album did, but I do hear more space between the drums, guitar feedback, and Ms. Haliday's voice. In fact, a few tracks in the middle seem to reduce the backing instruments substantially compared to the rest of the album, almost as though the gain on the mixing console was suddenly taken down to a seven from an eleven. Unreadable Communication in particular almost sounds like it's shooting for trip-hop dubbiness, save a mid-song guitar freak-out. Was this intentional? I'd like to assume so, but it kinda' sounds like a mistake too.

Speaking of 'quiet', how about that Left Of Mother, Curve going acoustic! Okay, there's still plenty of layered pedal effects as the song carries on, but man, simple guitar strumming at the start is a handy reminder that this band can go mellow too. Overall though, I'm still astounded they were seldom tapped for movie soundtrack tie-ins. So many of these songs would play great over rolling credits of many a '90s action-thriller.

As for the bonus material in this expanded re-issue, it has the usual assortment of b-sides and rarities included. The remixes naturally grab my attention though, what with the aforementioned Reznor rub on Missing Link, and The Drum Club having a go with Half The Time. Plus, an outfit known as The Future Sound Of London do a rote acid-house thingy on the obscure song Rising. They probably won't amount to anything off of that.

ACE TRACKS: February 2019

So this past month, I've had to do something for work that I haven't had to do in a very long time. It's something I've dreaded could come about again, the nature of my work somewhat fickle in where I must go for periods of time. See, the nature of living in Vancouver is you should never, ever commute over a bridge or through a tunnel. Unfortunately, the expense of living in Vancouver often means one must find residence out in the 'burbs, across the bridges and through the tunnels. I have not done this, as my means of living has left enough financial fluency such that I can live within Vancouver-proper, where my work has been for the past decade.

At the start of February, however, I was 'loaned out' to another place to work. A place that's on the other side of a bridge. One that I must commute to in an opposite direction. Actually, the commute there is pretty easy, as I leave rather early in the morning and is a breeze, the time just a shade longer than the time it takes me to get to my regular working area. That commute back, on the other hand. Dear God, it'd almost be just as fast for me to walk the distance, the traffic so congested. Of course, if I had my own vehicle, this wouldn't be such an issue, but if I don't cheap out with transit, how can I continue living in my Vancouver paradise? Oh well, what's an extra 45 minutes home from work, when you got a fresh ACE TRACKS playlist to jive on?


Full track list here.

MISSING ALBUMS:
Motorbass - Pansoul
Paul Oakenfold - Perfecto Presents Another World
Bandulu - Antimatters
Pitch Black - Ape To Angel
The Angling Loser - Arena Of Apprehension
Morgan - Arrakis

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 11%
Percentage Of Rock: 26%
Most “WTF?” Track: any of the Asia songs (whoa, they were actually good!)

Yep, that's another pile o' tune missing from another playlist. Ahh, just like old times, eh? Getting down to the final stretch of 'A' album though, which means we're in for another massive backlog of newer music to get through. Don't worry though, that Viking Metal I've hinted at is put off for much further down the road.

KMFDM - Angst

TVT Records/Metropolis: 1993/2006

I've decided the best way to experience KMFDM's discography is to jump back and forth from their critical peak Nihil. Or forth-and-back, in this case. I do this because, well, why not? Most often folks will do the chronological dive into a discography, or the 'best reviewed' descent. Why not change that up a little? Sure, I'm technically also starting from the band's agreed-upon pinnacle, but how about I spread out my exploration like an expanding glacier? Simultaneously discover where KMFDM went from Nihil while also learning of their growth. At the very least, it's a different way of doing this.

Thus I've come to Angst, KMFDM's seventh album and regarded as a major turning point in the band's history. Wait, doesn't every one of their albums leading up to this one have that claim as well? Rephrasing: the final step in a lengthy staircase of musical evolution. This was where the heavy industrial rock that marked much of their '90s output fully solidified, getting them noticed by all the metal heads who never really jived with the electronic side of industrial before. Just throw some screeching guitar shredding in there, and the long-hairs will feel right at home with the rivetheads. Also, make sure you let it be known that, despite coming from Germany, you're currently residing in Seattle – the instant credibility of the city made it the '00s Montreal of early '90s rock, or something.

Weirdly, I don't have much to say about Angst. For sure the guitar licks are a hoot, and apparently the band became so enamoured using them that they'd bring multiple guitarists on stage during the tour. Unfortunately, KMFDM don't quite sound at the level I'm most familiar with, the production still a tad flat and basic compared to Nihil and Xtort. Which shouldn't be unexpected, since this is an earlier album than those. And I'm sure when I finally deep dive into KMFDM's actual early, under-produced work, this will sound light years ahead of the game. Whatever, tunes like A Drug Against War and A Hole In The Wall shreds with the best of industrial thrash, and what metal lover wouldn't get tingly feels over the solos in Move On? This is a guitar album above all else, the backing drum tracks and lyrics secondary to the glory of the ol' six-stringer.

Oh yeah, I guess that's another thing that's kinda' lacked for me on Angst, the lyrics. Most of it revolves around the same ol' industrial tropes of evil overlords, fighting revolutions, and the like, but played seriously almost to a fault, lacking the sense of fun other KMFDM songs have. About the only tunes that lyrically stood out for me was anything Dorona Alberti sings on, 'cause that gal's got some pipes, and really shines on The Problem. Then there's Sucks, KMFDM basically having a jolly ol' pisstake at their own expense, including such nuggets of comedy gold as name-dropping some of the artists their acronym supposedly hates. I LOL'd.