Single Gun Theory - Flow, River Of My Soul

Nettwerk: 1994

(a Patreon Request from Omskbird)

There was a small window in the development of my musical tastes where this album would have been brilliant to me. It was right around the point when the sounds of Enya, Enigma and Deep Forest were failing me, but I hadn't yet caught onto whatever 'underground' ethno-pop beats options existed. When I was exploring compilations like Pure Moods and Escapes for new artists to check out. When I came into contact with another Nettwerk album released the same year as this that I thought among the most amazing things I ever heard, Delerium's Semantic Spaces. It was a small window of time, is what I'm saying.

Interestingly, Delerium was also my introduction to Single Gun Theory. Or rather, to Jacqui Hunt of Single Gun Theory, as featured in the lead single to the album Karma, Euphoria (Firefly). And yes, again, that was the lead single, not Silence featuring another Nettwerk artist on vocals (you know who). I didn't know much about Single Gun Theory, only what the Karma-hype blurbs told me, of them being Australian, a staple on Nettwerk since the label's earliest days, and having some musical ties to the Dead Can Dance wave of '80s ethereal synth-pop. I'll take the PR's word for it.

In any event, I'm not surprised the Delerium boys wanted to work with Jacqui Hunt, because boy does she ever carry the musical load in this group. Granted, part of that is thanks to the layers of ethereal effects on her voice. Whenever she's singing about fractured relationships or global issues or metaphysical existence though, you stand up and take notice, more than willing to be swept away in the thick layers of treated vocals. Which is good, as the backing music is only passable at best.

Pete and Kath do everything they can to make these tunes sound rich and dynamic, but the production chops just aren't there. It's clear their global travels heavily inspired them, with all manner of ethnic chants and exotic instruments finding their way into their tunes. And I do give props for them bringing in actual musicians for the showcases of tabla, tambura, cello, and such.

Unfortunately, they don't do much to distinguish their sampling as integral parts of the songs they craft, many of them presented with a big, flashing sign shouting “I'm a sample!” between moments of Jacqui's singing. Geez, it's even noticeable in their rhythms, not even trying to hide how obvious some of their breaks sampling is. It's fine using well-worn beats and all, but do something interesting with them to make them your own, otherwise I'm gonna' think of better examples of their use elsewhere. I could give them a pass on their previous albums, but by 1994, such production was coming off rather dated fast.

Ironically, the best example of the sort of music Single Gun Theory was trying to make here comes care of Delerium's Euphoria (Firefly). Remarkable what a couple years and better producers can accomplish, eh?

Delerium - Archives, Vol. 2

Nettwerk: 2001

I know the album Poem from Delerium has its fans, but for me it was a watered-down retread of Karma. After learning that Rhys Fulber had 'left' the partnership to pursue his own Conjure One project, I figured Delerium done. Joke's on me, Leeb and Fulber reconvening and adding four more albums to the Delerium discography since. Can't blame me for such an assumption though. When retrospective compilations hit the market, it's only natural to think a group is moving on.

Thus were my thoughts with Archives, released just after Poem, and seemingly as a stamp on the Delerium saga. Archives Vol. 1 would naturally cover all of their cross-over material (three albums is usually enough to cobble together a greatest hits package), while Vol. 2 would take a surprising dive into Delerium's pre-Nettwerk era. At least, that's what I assumed, hence why I only sprung for this collection and not Vol. 1. Turns out Vol. 1 reached even further back, when Leeb's pairing with Fulber had just started Delerium as little more than a side-project to Front Line Assembly, material only the earliest followers of their music would be aware of. That's remarkably bold of Nettwerk, assuming interest in the group had grown so substantial, they could capitalize on stuff in stark contrast to radio-friendly ethno-chill tunes featuring Sarah McLachlan. Maybe Leeb curried favours from the label, resuscitating stuff from his defunct Dossier print before Cleopatra somehow claimed total ownership over it.

What's interesting about Archives Vol. 2 is it also captures Delerium in transition. It covers three albums from their discography: Spiritual Archives, Spheres and Spheres II, the former essentially capping off their dark ambient period. And boy does it show on the track Drama, creepy industrial clank and melodramatic orchestration the name of the game there. Ephemeral Passage goes for the ominous yet angelic mood music, whereas Aftermath and Awakenings sound like the Front Line Assembly downtempo b-sides Delerium was.

Spheres, meanwhile, found Leeb and Fulber moving beyond the dusty catacombs and gothic planes in search of the outer realms of their muses. For sure it's still dark ambient, but spacier, emptier; music for traversing the Stargates of the Old Ones. Look, they ain't subtle about this, one of the tracks titled Monolith, and using the air ventilation sound effects from 2001: A Space Odyssey. To say nothing of the failing life supports beeping at the end of Hypoxia. There's some interesting ideas floating about the two Spheres showcases (almost the entirety of Spheres II is included on CD2), but some tracks seem to go on and on with no clear focus. Lots of weird sci-fi sound-effects, decent trip-hop beats, some toying around with acid and Delerium's distinct ethereal synth pads. The pure ambient pieces are quite lovely though.

Still, the most interesting take with the Spheres portion of Archives Vol. 2 is “they were making this concurrently with Semantic Spaces?” Makes you wonder what their future would have held had the Nettwerk debut flopped, doesn't it.

Ladytron - Velocifero

Nettwerk: 2008

It took them four albums and nearly a decade, but Ladytron finally, finally, found themselves a label that wouldn't drop them (Invicta Hi-Fi, Island Records) or collapse (Telstar, Emperor Norton). It only seems appropriate that it was Vancouver-based Nettwerk that would take them in, what with their debut album being a reference to the city's area code number. And hey, the print even had ties to new wave and synth-pop since their earliest years, so it's not like Ladytron was out of place there. Sure, Nettwerk's taken a few odd tangents over the decades, but a former electroclash band that was never electroclash in the first place nicely rubs shoulders with the likes of Sarah McLachlan, Skinny Puppy, and Delerium.

By this point, Ladytron was quite evolved from the charming, bristly synth-pop that marked their early work. They were now sounding like an actual band, with actual instruments like drums and guitars to go with their stockade of retro synths. And if the New Order and Depeche Mode influences were only hinted at in tangent with the obvious Kraftwerk and Human League nods, they fully embrace them in Velocifero, their rockiest outing yet. I mean, 'rockiest' in sounding rock-like, not 'rockiest' in sounding shaky and uncertain. 'Rock-like', as in rock 'n' roll, not the stones we find strewn about the ground. The music, I mean, not the act of sex. Curse my language of multiple meanings.

A couple things make Velocifero a decidedly unique album from the previous three. One, Ladytron employ more of a 'wall-of-sound' production to their music this time out. Even when things sometimes got chaotic with their older tunes, you could always pick out distinct sounds apart from each other. That's barely the case in Velocifero though, every vocal, synth, guitar and drum machine melting into a homogeneous whole of dense reverb and echo effects, instrumentation acting more like layers of timbre rather than individual set pieces. For sure you can still identify an organ tone from a drum kick, or Mira's Bulgarian lyrics from Helen's sultry lisp (*swoon*), but more than ever before, they all are in service of the musical whole.

This leaves the album as something of a double-edged sword, though. Front to back, Velocifero is easily the most consistent and flowing LP Ladytron ever put out. By the same token though, it lacks those instant ear-worm tunes that forever (and a day) get lodged in your head. Absolutely there's still wonderful songs on here. Singles Ghosts, Runaway, and Tomorrow hit insta' pop triggers the group have always done with ease, while Burning Up, The Lovers, and Versus yank all the feels out of my spleen-soul, leaving me aching for more. Yet when the album ends, old hits like Destroy Everything You Touch and Discotraxx pop into my head first, individual songs on Velocifero fading away into an amorphous glob of sound that dominates the album's production. Whatever, I can still vibe on some amorphous glob of sound, especially when it's coming from Ladytron.

Way Out West - Intensify

Nettwerk: 2001

Far as I'm concerned, Way Out West has always been that duo who supplied solid tunes to a solid progressive set, or could class up a cheesy trance set. But because their album output has been so sporadic (five in two decades!), the solo careers of Nick Warren and Jody Wisternoff has generated more talk than the Way Out West legacy. For sure they had a brilliant run at the start, among the top rated acts in the nascent progressive house (trance/breaks) scene. Even then, however, it was clear they didn't need each other for sustainable careers. Mr. Warren was an established DJ on the UK circuit, while Mr. Wisternoff had a respectable discography under his belt before teaming up with Nick. Still, when they hit the studio back in the '90s, it was clear they had great synergy in crafting creative, deadly dancefloor weapons.

Success does create pressure in at least considering cross-over potential though, a tempting possibility for Way Out West following the turn of the Millennium. Like, if Hybrid could throw in a few vocals to critical plaudits, why not them as well? Surely folks would buy a collaboration with Kirsty Hawkshaw here, and a voice from Tricia Lee Kalshall there. And just in case their older followers weren't keen, you can win them over by sampling a bona-fide '90s classic in Coldcut's Autumn Leaves for the lead single in The Fall. That'll get those nostalgia triggers firing!

Shocking pilfering aside, The Fall is fine for what it is, a thumping prog-house anthem with a familiar hook to sing along to. Mindcircus was rather played out back in the day, but retains some charm all these years later, and Stealth works as a mid-album trip-hop breather. Really though, we're here for those propulsive prog-house/breaks (trance) cuts the Way Out West brand was built on, and the lads behind the moniker don't disappoint in the slightest. Activity's got a killer, clanking beat with a tasteful ethnic wail, Call Me works in a pounding prog groove, Hypnotise gets more floaty and break-beaty (paging Dr. Hybrid, yo'), and Sharkhunt... damn, is this ever some tasty-as-fuck sci-fi funk! It's a travesty this cut didn't get the EP treatment.

Okay, UB Devoid is a solid choice for “Big Banger Single From New Album”. It's almost doing a psy-trance thing for its first half, indulging in brief melodic passages, samples, and weird sounds for their own sake. The second-half goes down more traditional prog-house paths, but are mint in their own right. Can you believe this track's not even five-minutes long? Who crams that much music into a five-minute dance tune?

Finishing up, Secret hints at the burgeoning James Holden influences (grumbly low-end, twinkly highs), while the two-parter titular cut sums up most of the album's highlights. Unless you just can't stand prog-trance (breaks/house) of this era, there's nothing to fault with Intensify. It may not be as ground-breaking as their '90s output, but remains a great collection of tunes to this day.

Ladytron - Witching Hour

Island Records/Nettwerk: 2005/2011

Hard to believe this is only my second Ladytron review, but it's not like the foursome have made a ton of music over the years. To date, they've released five albums (though a sixth is in the works), their last one coming out way back in ye' olde year of 2011. I suppose that hectic touring schedule caused a bit of the ol' burn-out, plus they aren't the quirky young electro-pop chickens of the early '00s anymore. I'm sure members now have families to tend to, side-projects to cultivate, and whatever else that can keep a four-piece with as disparate backgrounds as these lads and lasses have from reuniting with consistency. Maybe that's why, for as much as I adore Ladytron's sound, I've always been hesitant in buying up their albums in one big splurge. I want to savour the ones that do come out for as long as humanely possible, never risking my own burn-out.

After yet another round of label troubles, Ladytron released their third album Witching Hour in 2005, one of the worst years for electronic music since the initial rave explosion. Fortunately, the group somehow stands outside time and space, the record just as sonically timeless as their previous work, yet also pertinent to the trends happening in the here (there) and now (then). It's a very good album, is what I'm saying, in a year when finding very good albums was a ridiculous feat of excavation that would make Indiana Jones and Globetrotting Batman quiver in the knees.

It was also a radical departure from the pure synth-heavy sound the group had in their early work, bringing in added drums and guitar work to complement their electro-pop. Some attributed it to latching onto the disco-punk wave of the time (LCD Soundsystem was the hippest band about), but I don't hear it. Rather, it simply sounds like Ladytron spent some of their hard-earned cash on new musical toys, thus letting them expand their aesthetic beyond pure retro work. Unless you figure 'post-punk new wave' just as retro as synth-pop.

It worked to some extent, Witching Hour scoring the band some of their first chart action, lead singles Destroy Everything You Touch and Sugar some of their best-selling songs. They weren't gang-busters, mind you, but considering their label troubles, it's remarkable they got on the Billboards at all. Then again, breaking the 'boards was never their M.O. I think their fans are perfectly content keeping Ladytron's impossibly earwormy choruses to themselves anyway. Saves room at the live shows.

And there's plenty more to enjoy from this album. The peppy 'rockers' (High Rise, AMTV, Weekend, Whitelightgenerator), the dreamy synth-poppers (International Dateline, Soft Power, The Last One Standing), and the moody downbeat pieces (CMYK, Beauty*2, All The Way). Throw in all the charmingly catchy, yet oddly tragic lyrics you've come to expect from Helen Marnie's satin lisp (...*swoon*), and Witching Hour remains one of Ladytron's best records. Just ignore the rubbish remixes at the end of the re-issues though.

Dusted - When We Were Young

Nettwerk: 2000/2001

It's criminal the amount of folks who overlook this album. No, I've empirical evidence backing this up, barely four-hundred copies owned by denizens of Discogs. By comparison, over twenty-seven hundred Discogians have some version of Outrospective from Faithless, Rollo's main super-famous popular project. But I get it: despite the glowing critical praise Dusted earned with this debut, few knew what to make of it. It didn't help ol' Roland isn't much of an attention hound, always hiding in the producer's cubby while others reap the glory from his efforts (Sister Bliss, Maxi Jazz, Dido), to say nothing of Mark Bates' contributions here. There was little media promoting it too, just a Deep Dish remix and a rather crap CGI video supporting the lead single Always Remember To Respect Your Mother. And while the artwork is an obvious homage to Maurice Sendak's Where The Wild Things Are, it's not the sort of style your average punter is gonna' find themselves drawn too. Nay, wait until they're at mid-life, and reflections on childhood innocence while tending to a child yourself becomes far more poignant.

That, in a nutshell, is likely why When We Were Young failed to gain 'classic album status' despite all the musical muscle supporting such an honour: its audience was just too niche. Still, folks weaned on copious amounts of Faithless should vibe on the opening few tracks. Childhood sets the stage in a dreamy morning-after bliss as many of Rollo's best chilled-out instrumental pieces so often do, while follow-up Time Takes Time goes for more of a soul-fusion slant. Want U and Hurt U tread into trip-hop territory, with a growing sense of youthful uncertainty and anxiety coming to grips with experiencing such emotions for the first time. Capping this stretch off with the creepy If You Go Down To The Woods, as though you're lost and alone in an unknown world, and you're more than ready to accept the loving, tender embrace of Always Remember To Respect Your Mother, Pt. 1, Dido's operatic vocals carrying you to places safe and warm again.

And that's just the first half of this brilliant album!

From there, When We Were Young grows more mature sounding, soulful croons from Luke Garwood mostly leading the way. There's further dalliances into trip-hop (Always Remember To Respect Your Mother, Pt. 2, Winter), cheeky weirdness for a 'lawf' (The Oscar Song), gospel exuberance (The Biggest Fool In The World, Under The Sun), and folksy reflection (Oh, How Sweet, If I Had A Child). And yeah, these are just broad genre descriptors, as Rollo and Bates never settle into any one tidy style, fusing everything into a sound that's unmistakably theirs. I mean, you've heard it before, during the downtime in most Faithless records.

When We Were Young is essentially the mellow-chill creativity of Rollo unleashed – no need of adhering to club anthems or Maxi Jazz lyrics here, my friends. If that isn't enough of a selling point of this album, I don't know is.

Sarah McLachlan - Rarities, B-Sides & Other Stuff

Nettwerk: 1996

I very nearly bought this when it was new. Rabbit In The Moon is on here, providing two remixes for Ms. McLachlan, including a rub on Possession (aka: that “I’ll take your breath away” song). The fact Rarities, B-Sides, & Other Stuff also has an Extended Remix of the only other song by Sarah I knew of (Into The Fire), and the temptation was there, believe you me. Taking a quick listen changed my mind though - I had no idea she was so acoustic. Right, I’ve already mentioned my early McLachlan knowledge was super-lacking, and man, was I ever gonna’ get some knowledge dropped on me hard the following year, when Surfacing became a Canadian Touchstone of Music Excellence Pertaining To Cultural Significance (or however CBC calls it now). Still, Rabbit In The F’n Moon… You’ve no idea how difficult it was finding their stuff in CD format back in the day. Hell, even now it’s hard, at least for a reasonable penny out of your purse.

While an ‘odds-n-sods’ collection of McLachlan material is hardly out of the ordinary, the fact this came out before she hit international stardom does come as a surprise. No doubt Fumbling Towards Ecstasy was a successful album, and even Solace and Touch had been slow burners, but nothing from those suggested her fanbase had grown significant enough for a stopgap like Rarities, B-Sides, & Other Stuff. She didn’t even have enough material for a ‘Best Of’ package at this stage of her career, and wouldn’t do the deed for that until the 2004 Retrospective. Interest indeed was there though, this compilation actually hitting the Top Ten of Canada’s Billboard charts, and even Triple-Platinum in my country. Wow, I’m not alone in my hunt for obscure Rabbit In The Moon remixes then!

Rarities, B-Sides & Other Stuff definitely lives up to its name, a hodge-podge of miscellaneous material throughout Ms. McLachlan’s first decade of music-making. This includes a number of covers: XTC’s Dear God, Canadian folkie Joni Mitchell’s Blue, and other Canadian folkie Gordon Lightfoot’s Song For A Winter’s Night. These all sound about as you’d expect from Sarah on the acoustic, mellow side, though given the power behind her pipes, I suspect she recorded them during the recent interim between albums, maybe as a means of helping her recharge her muse. Another cover’s here, a live recording of o-o-old-timey lament Gloomy Sunday, with the modernist Billy Holiday lyrics used.

So what’s this ‘other stuff’, then? A soundtrack-only track in I Will Remember You, which was a major selling point for this CD. RITM do a LunaSol Remix on Fear, which the boys behind Delerium were definitely paying attention to. A Violin Mix of Shelter. An early release of Surfacing track Full Of Grace. And, in case you forgot label Nettwerk’s origins leaned synth-pop and industrial, McLachlan lends a voice on 1988’s As the End Draws Near from long-forgotten duo Manufacture. Look, Sarah was young, she needed the work.

Sarah McLachlan - Afterglow

Nettwerk: 2003

Sarah McLachlan first came within range of my earholes way back, her oldie single Into The Fire on constant rotation over Vancouver’s radio waves. And why not, an undeniably catchy song that fed off the success of similar lady singer-songwriters of the era (Tori Amos, Sinéad O'Connor). Plus, what youthful teenage boy couldn’t help but be, erm, ‘intrigued’ by that video of Ms. McLachlan lounging about naked, covered in mud? And while I’m almost certain I heard Possession at some point too (aka: that “I’ll take your breath away” song), I didn’t give her much thought after Into The Fire, music bias against anything un-electronic dictating such youthful folly. Thus I must admit to embarrassing shock at not only learning she was still around when her ultra-mega successful Surfacing dropped, but was on the verge of becoming an industry juggernaut for female musicians. Grammys! Lilith Fair! Trance remixes! Well I’ll be darned.

After such unprecedented career fortune, Ms. McLachlan did what any humble gal from Nova Scotia would do: retreat from the spotlight for a while for some quality me-time. This wasn’t her first time doing so, ol’ Sarah taking a six-month sabbatical prior to working on Surfacing. After all the touring and fame that album wrought, damn straight she’d need another bought of recharging. This one lasted much longer though, in part due to a period of mourning after the loss of her mother, but also prepping for motherhood of her own. With all these factors in play, anticipation was high for this album. Could she meet and even surpass her song writing abilities so often exceeded throughout the ‘90s? Would she have new topics to write about, new perspectives on the way life had gone for her in the half-decade since international stardom? Might she incorporate any new production tricks, perhaps go more electronic in lieu of the popularity of all those remixes? The answer to all this is an irresistible “nah, guy.”

Afterglow is quite the apt title, the music here mostly calm and light. It all goes down easy, the sort of songs you’d hear on your adult contemporary station during the grind of work. Sarah doesn’t offer much in the way of fresh insights or innovative song craft, mostly relaying the sort of platitudes you’d expect of someone mostly content in their life. Tracks like Fallen, Stupid, and Train Wreck touch on feelings of loss, whereas Perfect Girl and Push offer messages with some hopeful outlooks. World On Fire hints at the troubles ailing a post-9/11 world, but that’s about as far outside Sarah’s comfort zone of relationship reflections we venture. Lyrically, all the songs on Afterglow are well-written and Sarah’s voice sounds as haunting as ever, but after such a long gap between albums, it’s no surprise folks came away from this tidy ten-tracker underwhelmed. Could it be Ms. McLachlan’s time in the sun had finally set?

I must “nah, guy” again, a surprising new career as an impossibly sad ASPCA spokeswoman beckoning.

BT - R & R (Rare & Remixed)

Nettwerk: 2001

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

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

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

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

Delerium - Semantic Spaces

Nettwerk: 1994

It was a perfect point in my musical development that I stumbled upon Delerium's first forays into crossover ethno-pop. The acts that had served as my introduction to the genre weren't doing it for me anymore, the allure of thicker, dubbier beats drawing me deeper to the underground. Yet I hadn't ventured that far from familiar shores either, a compilation or two about my only exposure to the likes of Orb, FSoL, and BdG. How could I know Bill Leeb and Rhys Fulber raided a ton of famous beats and sounds from prominent acts and famous tunes? Besides, it's not like Semantic Spaces' intended audience would know either, the album marking a reinvention of the Delerium brand for a potential new listener base of New Age stay-at-home mothers.

Or not. Whatever commercial roads the duo travelled in the wake of Karma doesn’t really apply at this earlier point in their career. Front Line Assembly was still their biggest draw, Delerium mostly relegated to dark ambient noodling, a chance to explore weird soundscapes and abstract songcraft. The label Nettwerk itself was also in transition, moving away from the EBM and ethereal synth-pop acts that defined its ‘80s output (Skinny Puppy, Moev, Single Gun Theory). Even Nettwerk’s biggest star, Sarah McLachlan, had yet to break out of local stardom, mostly making music that wouldn’t sound out of place on 4AD.

It’s that influence, more than anything, that marks Semantic Spaces style. There was no real crossover attempt here because neither the name Delerium nor Nettwerk had much impact yet beyond the scenes that already nurtured them (and even rejected by hard-line industrial sorts). Some of the sampling that goes on here is a bit much though – Flatlands is basically a beefed-up early Enigma tune, and it’s difficult hearing Consensual Worlds without thinking of The Orb, much less the bell hook and native chants in Sensorium without thinking of Origin Unknown or Deep Forest. Yeah, quite a few of these came from sample discs used throughout the industry, but sometimes an act uses it so definitively, anything after comes off like a cheap copy. That said, I fully endorse the use of that Meat Beat Manifesto break in Resurrection. Paupa New Guinea’s a classic, but it don’t have no Vangelis choir chant, mang!

Semantic Spaces finds its proper stride when Leeb and Fulber write music with less emphasis on the samples they crib. The two vocal tracks with Kristy Thirsk are some of Delerium’s best, Flowers Become Screens hitting great gothic grooviness (!?) and Incantation a ridiculously catchy club cut (that chorus!). The remaining instrumentals - Metaphor, Metamorphosis, and Gateway - ride ethno-ethereal trip-hop vibes as expertly as you’d ever find in the early ‘90s, never coming off sap or cliché.

Aw man, those darn nostalgia headphones are on my head again, aren’t they. Whatever. Semantic Spaces doesn’t demand fastidious critiquing – it is what it is, and you can either despise it for that, or embrace your inner Wiccan goddess. Or something.

Paul van Dyk - The Politics Of Dancing (2014 Update)

Nettwerk: 2001

(Click here to read my original goddamn novel)

If any of my old reviews needed a proper overhaul, it’s this 2CD DJ mix from the esteemed Mr. Paul van Dyk. I can easily do this within my new self-imposed word count, so let’s get this going. I’ll stick to the facts.

Notwithstanding the hardships I’ve faced in the wake of listening to The Politics Of Dancing again, suffering long, trying reflective self-doubt, wandering listlessly under the cold drizzle of December nights, moist shivers consistently running down my neck like a post-production kick drum. After buying a better winter coat but without the time to properly enjoy its snug warmth, and forcing myself into pondering my past grammatical transgressions, all to restore whatever reputation I’ve earned. This included reading the original 4,000 words I wrote - in its entirety mind you, not just snippets and chunks like most - all to clarify where I went so horribly wrong a decade ago. Let’s just set all that aside, and focus on this release.

It’s been a smart move on Paul’s part keeping his Politics Of Dancing an infrequent event. As a first foray into commercial mixes, the first was a total success, standing out as distinct, unique, and above class from all of van Dyk’s peers, especially at a time when the trance mix CD market was way oversaturated. Even beyond his studio edits giving so many of his chosen tracks a steady, driving rhythm throughout, his selection of tunes can only be seen as brilliantly bold today. Second Sun’s Empire, iiO’s Rapture, Guardians Of The Earth’s Starchildren, 4 Strings’ Into The Night, Blank & Jones’ Secrets & Lies… dear God, what cheesy songs these are, but damn if I don’t get a kick out of hearing them in this mix. It helps that Mr. van Dyk surrounds them with some of the best trance tunes of the day (Viframa’s Cristalle, Mirco de Govia’s Epic Monolith, Subsky’s Four Days), showing faith in these pop leanings having just as much right to co-exist with ‘proper’ underground ‘tings. After all, if you’ve a soft spot for the saccharine, why not wear it on your sleeve?

Where Politics Of Dancing excelled as a trance mix though – and van Dyk forgot for its 2005 sequel - is in the studio editing. Some complained it ruined a few tracks, but I argue it allowed him to construct a craftier set overall. Trance mixes all too often line up their tracks, beatmatch at the appropriate points, and let the songs play out as they are. van Dyk said nuts to that, often using only small portions as lead-ins to the bigger set pieces, and Politics Of Dancing is at its best when he does this – seriously, the boring parts occur when he’s playing out anthem after anthem like any other jock. It’s why TPOD2 comparatively underwhelms, nothing as fun as mash-ups or quick transitions found on those discs. Hope ol’ Paul remembers this facet for number three, but I sadly doubt he will.

Tiësto - Nyana

Nettwerk America: 2003

Say what you want about Tiësto’s career trajectory – no, go ahead, its fun! - but for a brief while in the early '00s, it seemed the Dutch icon was poised at breaking into the mainstream with critical credibility intact. To do so though, a bit of reinvention was required, taking his first steps in distancing himself from the euro-trance that had defined much of his musical output. After all, single-CD sets were fine for anthem rinse-outs, but Tiësto are serious DJ now, so he needs two discs spotlighting his muse. And what better way to prove, beyond a shadow of a doubt, you are serious DJ than by playing serious techno bollocks, opening with the same track Hawtin began Sound Of The Third Season, no less!

He pulls it off. I'm serious! The opening stretch of Nyana is one of the best CD1 starts I've heard from Mr. Verwest, plus I can't help giggling at the thought of his traditional 'cracker fanbase utterly aghast at all the techno, perplexed over what happened their trance hero (oh, if only I had a time-machine to show them what was to come...). True, there's little here Adam Beyer would tremble over, but for a Dutch trance DJ taking a step into the unforgiving underground, Tiësto handles himself well. The rhythms are kept brisk with momentum on a steady climb, and getting Oliver Lieb (The Ambush's Acapulco) and L-Vee (Planisphere's Totem) as some of your peak tech-trance bangers for this section is mint!

Then he fucks it all up with Darren Tate and Jono Grant’s collaboration Let The Light Shine In, as cheeseball a chedder-trance track as cheese trance could cheese out in 2003. There’s no reason for such an abrupt change in tone either, other than Tiësto had a pile of vocal tunes to cram into this two-discer somewhere. What, the Indoor disc wasn’t good enough for Cor Fifneman’s Venus or Conjure One’s Tears From The Moon? Damning things further is Outdoor returning to the tech-trance business with Ton T.B.’s Electronic Malfunction regardless, rendering the middle portion of CD1 a pointless diversion. That said, I still like Tijs’ remix of Venus, despite serving no purpose in the context of this mix.

As for CD2, this one’s famous for having three huge, gigantic, massive, McProg anthems on it – Hell, these tracks practically helped kick-off that sub-genre! Of course, I’m talking about Andain’s Beautiful Things, Motorcycle’s As The Rush Comes (tunes that Gabriel & Dresden never topped), and Holden’s Nothing (93 Returning Mix). And with that said, do you even care about the rest of the CD? There’s a few nice tunes scattered between, and the final stretch of Balearic trance vibes is charming enough, but come on, we all know what folks remember most about Nyana to this day.

That’s right, the techno! It makes one wonder where Tiësto’s career could have gone had he dared remaining on that path instead. Cue Bizarro World scene of Mr. Verwest playing Bergheim and Circo Loco.

Ladytron - Light & Magic

Nettwerk: 2002/2011

Electroclash wasn’t even a thing when Ladytron first emerged. They were more interested in recreating the late ‘70s new wave aesthetic, inspired by musical works of The Human League and the performances of Kraftwerk. When ‘everyone’ picked up on that whole ‘80s revival thing, however, the four-piece synth-poppers got roped in along with sleaze-meisters like Miss Kittin, Felix da Housecat and DJ Hell’s International Deejay Gigolos. Who cares if the lyrical content couldn’t be further worlds apart, all those vintage synths and drum machines is the link the binds them together. Right, like how using a TB-303 makes acid house and psy trance the exact same thing.

Anyhow, once the electroclash hullabaloo began its predicted recession, Ladytron re-emerged with their sophomore effort, Light & Magic. If folks figured the group would succumb to that scene’s irony-soaked topics and kitsch, they were poorly mistaken (and likely didn’t get what Ladytron was all about anyway). There’s a couple observations of the soullessness of fashion-obsessed vanity (Seventeen touches on the disposable nature of the photo industry), but by and large we’re dealing with melancholic relationships and relative emptiness in a digitized world. It’s 1982 all over again, baby!

So while the topics are similar to their debut, the tone is not. A charming innocence often ran through the first album’s songs, as though Ladytron struggled to make sense of all these weird emotions leaking from their robotic façade (having Helen Marnie’s lisping, whispering coo of a voice handle most of the lyrical duty certainly helped sell the image). A little older and mature now, Light & Magic has them clearly aware of what’s going on in relationships, and coming away rather cynical in the process, properly sold with detached vocoders and effects throughout (God, I can barely even hear Helen in the titular cut). Well, probably. Ladytron’s lyrics are usually intentionally vague, equally working at a surface level or with deeper intent. Good pop music, in other words.

And speaking of music, the synths and beats are much slicker and beefier without losing any of the retro-charm that made them synth-pop delights. Damn, the way some of these choral chord changes force their way into your ears is insidious. Seventeen’s is an obvious highlight, being that it was the lead single for the album, but Light & Magic, The Reason Why and Evil are no slouches either. As for the actual music, Ladytron run the gamut from icy-cool electro (Turn It On, Re: Agents, Cease2xist, and Black Plastic, sounding more like a Kitten & Hacker cut), chipper, rocky techno (True Mathematics, Nuhorizons), booming baroque (Startup Chime), and is that a touch of the old-school house I hear in Flicking Your Switch?

If Ladytron’s charms have yet to win you over, this album probably won’t convert you, as the pop potential of their sound is subdued compared to other releases. In fact, it took me a bit to warm to Light & Magic, but I can never resist Helen’s voice for long. *swoon*

Delerium - Karma (2013 Update)

Nettwerk: 1997

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.)


Oh my God! I had no idea Leeb and Fulber recycled the main melody in Twilight from their earlier Front Line Assembly tune Outcast. Have they no shame? Ah, who cares, it's a great melody. Okay, that sorted...

That Silence, a track receiving very little promotion when Karma first hit the streets, would go on to (sadly) define Delerium forever after - and who’s subsequent remixes would also inspire a whole slew of copycat vocal trance upstarts - has always surprised me. Reflecting on the whole phenomenon as I re-listened to this album, however, I was struck by something even more surprising: why wasn't this song more heavily promoted? I mean, Sarah f’n McLachlan’s on the vocals, at a time when her star was finally breaking through into mainstream recognition (or was that Canada’s hype machine going into overdrive?). Who cares about that chick from Single Gun Theory or Ms. McLachlan’s backup singer when you have the real deal providing pipes on a song? I guess Nettwerk did, tapping Euphoric and Duende for lead single duty instead (sorry, Kristy Thirsk, you already got two singles to your credit on the previous Delerium album).

I’ve already touched upon why such collaboration made sense in my old review. On the other hand, perhaps Nettwerk was uncertain whether the two had audiences within the same sphere. Despite a following career suggesting otherwise, Leeb and Fulber’s ambient side-project was still considered more in line with the industrial and goth scene most knew them by. It wouldn’t surprise me if Nettwerk saw potential in turning Delerium from dark, morbid, ambient drone into something commercially viable upon signing them, but even after Semantic Spaces, they fluttered between the two. Karma, however, was definitely taking a proper stab at ‘post-Enigma’ world beat and downtempo; yet only electronic music fans remained aware of the group, even in 1997. Lord knows I couldn’t namedrop Delerium to anyone outside my music circle without getting confused glances. The cliché may now be that both Delerium and Sarah McLachlan appeal to the same demographic (middle-aged housewives into spiritualism and that), but it was far from the case when Karma came out. Sarah had her fans in the folk music scene, Delerium had their fans in… elsewheres, and you’d never catch either of them interacting (unless by accident if they were watching a MuchMusic Countdown video with both making the list).

G'uh, I’ve spent way too much time on Silence, something I should instead do when I review the single-proper (which is never). Whatever the initial intent behind the song was, it went on to dominate Delerium’s sound forever after (ethereal, gothic world beat pop with guest female vocals). Ugh, it was okay as intermittent tracks spaced out between the pure instrumentals (if you can count a bunch of ethnic and Gregorian chants as ‘instrumental’), but not as their defining characteristic. Karma struck the right balance, and small surprise it remains a favourite for new and old fans alike.