Josh Wink - When A Banana Was Just A Banana (Original TC Review)

Nervous Records: 2009

(2017 Update:
Josh Wink still hasn't made another album since this one. Why hasn't Josh Wink made another album since this one? Did it sell poorly due to the odd, cartoony presentation? Does he still feel squirmish about making 'album orientated music', even at this late stage of his career? Is he simply satisfied kicking out a steady stream of yearly singles, his DJing carrying the muse's load? So many questions, ones that honestly don't require an answer, but it remains a strange state of affairs that for a career as long lasting as his, Mr. Wink has never needed regular LPs maintaining it.

As this review was written late in TranceCritic's run, it's definitely of much better quality than most. Even at a rather lengthier word count, it still pops along at a nice clip. I even worked in an obligatory aside-rant about 'anti-builds' (on non-climaxes), plus threw in a couple snarky quips I'd totally forgotten about. Gave me a good chortle, they done did.)


IN BRIEF: Bountiful bananas.

First: there is no Higher State on here. In fact, there probably never will be a track like that ever again, from Wink or anyone else. It was an once-in-a-lifetime moment when that seminal acid classic was dropped, so you may as well stop expecting Wink to repeat it. If that’s the only reason you’ve clicked this review - to find out if he’s made another Higher State - hit ‘Alt + Left-Arrow’ now.

Good. Those who’ve stayed put probably already know there’s more to Mr. Winkleman than one or two big hits from the 90s but it’s remarkable just how much a man can forever be tied to chart success, even nigh fifteen years on. Ol’ Josh hasn’t let it tie his career down though. His record label Ovum continues to chug along with quality releases, his DJing career continues to groove along with quality sets, and his productions continue to, um, be produced. Well, he manages to continue to release solid singles, but has never managed to quite break that LP barrier, with albums that never seem to quite capture the same thrill or success of his EPs or DJ mixes. Wink himself has admitted that perhaps the fault lies in his attempts to make AOM (album orientated music), something that doesn’t play to his strengths.

So, it’s just as well that he’s abandoned that aspect for his latest album. The concept of When A Banana… is straight-forward enough: round up a collection of current productions that’s been getting live rotation, arrange them into a kind of DJ mix, and send it out into the wild. Surprisingly (or not), it works brilliantly, with each of these tracks strutting their stuff in strong fashion.

It’s the first half of this album that shines most brightly, with a variety of groovy house vibes, techno bedlam, and tranced-out bliss. Opener Airplane Électronique warms you up as fine as any house tune, with a funky rhythm that’ll have you wiggling along and a bouncy hook that gets a bunch of fun tugs, tweaks and tumbles twisting it about. However, it’s with Counter Clock 319 that you realize just how special of a producer Wink still is. Like so many of his tracks, he works a slow build before introducing The Hook (it seems many of his tracks contain that one element which can only be described as The Hook), which will get a thorough working over as the track continues to build in rhythmic intensity. Then, those crashing hi-hats and snares erupt, creating the kind of awesome thrashing climax Wink has practically made his trademark. The peak in Counter Clock is far more satisfying than anything you might expect from trendy upstarts like Dullfire or Radio Snore, such that- Wait a moment. That was only the mid-track peak? Oh shit, hang on, here we go again!

Actually, since I did bring up the former Deep Dish man, let me point out another thing that Wink trumps him on: what to do after the mid-track peak. I know Dubfire wasn’t the first to do it, but his single Roadkill really popularized the Total F'n Reset, wherein after a thrilling build, the track will just reset with intro beats, making everything up to it utterly pointless. Wink has a tendency to bring the energy down as well, but instead of using the Total Reset, he eases you into a simmer, which is not only effective in keeping some sort of momentum going but also in teasing your anticipation for when he brings it all back. And speaking of which, let’s get back to these bananas.

After a bit of murky, mildly funky minimalism with What Used To Be…, Wink unleashes a pair of tracks that hit all the right melodic notes. Jus’ Right is pure Balaeric bliss, but it’s Dolphin Smack that comes off as the most delightful surprise - you would never have expected Wink to produce a track that would have fit nicely on an early-90s Harthouse compilation in this day in age. It’s quite spacey and, dare I say, even trancey.

From there, Wink gets back to your requisite minimal-tech, although considering he was among the earliest adopters of this stylistic trend, the cuts offered here sound comfortable and assured. Yeah, there’s your usual plink-plonk-hiss going on, but there’s also, like, actual funk in these tracks too - imagine that, eh? He’s going to drag your head out of your k-hole whether you like it or not, and coerce you to do more with your feet than a half-committed shuffle. Finishing off with the soulful Stay Out All Night is fair game too, even if it shares the same status as Johnny D’s Orbitalife of an inexplicably overplayed track throughout 2008 (that ‘funky soul’ thing must have seemed like such a novelty to the minimal-tech crowd, despite the likes of Miguel Migs having never gone away).

Of course, When A Banana… isn’t revolutionary or anything like that. We’ve been hearing many of Wink’s tricks on here for over a decade; it’s his strong judgment of rhythm that makes it all work though. Unlike so many other minimal-tech producers who make dull plod-step beats, Wink’s veteran sense of the dancefloor knows how to get the most mileage out of the least elements, and he’s accomplished this excellently with these tracks. Throw in attributes his contemporaries seem afraid of (funk! soul! …melody!), and you have one of the stronger albums of tech-house to come along this year. Not to mention in Wink’s discography as well.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2009. © All rights reserved.

Snap! - Welcome To Tomorrow (Original TC Review)

BMG: 1994

(2017 Update:
Not much else to add to this old review. My thoughts on it haven't changed much in the ten years since I wrote it, and the story of Snap! hasn't seen much else of note happen either. They did join in on those 'I Love The '90s' nostalgia concerts that sprung up a few years ago, which is cool and all, but nothing from this album made it into their short playlists - at least, from what I've seen on various YouTube clips. I never got to go to those shows, stuck on the continent that I currently am. I'm not sure how they could have included Welcome To Tomorrow or Rame or The First The Last Eternity anyway, so drastically different from the group's biggest hits as they are. Maybe Dream On The Moon could have fit, having a similar 'rugged' rhythm as their older hip-house hits, but would anyone know that one? Yeah, thought not.)

IN BRIEF: The first mainstream trance album? Perhaps.

(to their song Who Stole It)
So, Snap!, what happened to thee?
You’re once players in this industry.
But something happened along the way;
Now your impact is forgotten today.

Alas, something did happen to the power-house dance outfit Snap! With ultra-hits like The Power and Rhythm Is A Dancer, they helped popularize a euro dance scene into a global phenomenon. At the peak of it all though, when work on their third album Welcome To Tomorrow was soon to begin, a number of factors ended up drastically changing things for the group.

The most glaring one is the absence of rapper Turbo B. Much has been debated over his worthiness as an MC. Some found him wholly unnecessary and his rhymes silly. Others quite enjoyed his faux Public Enemy persona, lending the songs he was featured on a vitality that was often missing from the many copy-cat acts that followed. Whatever your impression of him was though, he undoubtedly gave Snap! much needed stage presence considering most of the music was done behind-the-scenes. However, Turbo B and producers Michael Münzing and Luca Anzilotti (or John “Virgo” Garrett III and Benito Benites, heh) had a falling out. He wanted to get back to hip-hop, whereas they had other plans. Thus their union came to an end for the remainder of the 90s.

Yet that’s not the end of it. Snap! could easily have settled on producing stock euro house with female singers, but the German duo never wanted to be caught rehashing their former successes in those days - hence the drastic differences between their first two albums. Once again, they decided to go for a new sound, but what?

Oddly enough, trance provided the answer. It was already blowing up in German clubs in ‘94, and two albums with Jam el Mar at the helm (Dance 2 Trance’s Moon Spirits and Jam & Spoon’s Tripomatic Fairytales 2001) had shown some potential in the genre’s crossover ability. Münzing and Anzilotti also had ties to the scene, having known tastemaker Sven Väth when they performed together as Off in the 80s. Perhaps at the time it seemed like the logical course of action, but sadly Welcome To Tomorrow was a few years too early to be a successful mainstream trance album, and it greatly hurt the public’s response to it (well, aside from in Germany, obviously).

The lack of Turbo B was the least of their identity crisis. Snap! retained a signature murky bass-heavy sound throughout most of their releases, but not this time out. Welcome To Tomorrow’s production is mostly squeaky clean, even to a fault in some cases. If they wanted to create the image of a future where everything is devoid of the grime and grit of the present, they certainly succeeded there, but this was not what folks expected. Small wonder the new singles from the album were mostly met with apathy from nearly all their fans: they weren’t even sure if it was the same group anymore (which, in a sense, was true).

On its own merits, then. As a mainstream dance album with trance influences, does Welcome To Tomorrow work? At times, yes. Some of these tracks contain all those vintage elements trance was built upon, and Snap!’s offerings are as fine as anything the underground saw. Most apparent of these is Rame, where the combination of stuttery synths, sweeping pads, and Rukmani’s ethnic vocals could have found a tidy home on any old school trance compilation. Elsewhere, It’s Not Over makes for a peppy instrumental, The First The Last Eternity finds similar elements to Rame in a subdued setting with lyrics provided by their new female vocalist Paula Brown (aka: Summer), and Waves dips into ambient’s waters with Ibizan-tinged guitar provided by Markus Deml (whom some may remember from his pairing with Ralf Hildenbeutel as Earth Nation around the same time - the ties to the underground continue!).

A bunch of these other songs though... I dunno, friends. I mean, I normally don’t have much problem with doe-eyed clichés but seriously, Snap! go overboard here.

Green Grass Grow, It’s A Miracle, Welcome To Tomorrow, The World In My Hands: my God, but what syrupy sap these are. The World In My Hands is at least somewhat tolerable with a moodier tone, but the rest sound like they were written with children in mind. In fact, I think they were. Münzing had a baby daughter at this point, and it seems like his paternal instincts drastically took over his music writing, such to the point he even gives her some ad-libs on It’s A Miracle, a song about the joys of childbirth. Yes, I admit whenever I think about holding my newborn nephew, the same sentimentality does come up, but not when I’m listening to a dance record. Here, I can’t help but be just a bit embarrassed, like watching someone performing simpleton-silly googly acts to a bemused baby. And this comes from the same group that just four years prior had Turbo B rapping about lamenting a broken condom?

Welcome To Tomorrow isn’t a bad album though. It’s just very different from what you’d expect: a Snap! album, a dance album, anything really. You can throw it on and, provided you don’t blush to death from the effusive emotions at points, be reasonably entertained. Unfortunately for them, it brought the group down, and despite their continued attempts at comebacks this decade, they have remained out of public consciousness for the most part, save the continued replays of The Power and Rhythm Is A Dancer. Not exactly the future they predicted, then. Ah well.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2007. All rights reserved

Ashtech - Walkin' Target (Original TC Review)

Interchill Records: 2007

(2017 Update:
Ten years ago, almost to the day, this item dropped, and aside from Meditronica in 2009, nothing since - not even a contributing credit under his real name of Andrea Nicoletti. I know Lord Discogs doesn't have *all* the information out there, but surely it'd have something like added bass licks or keyboard jams to a project elsewhere. Yet checking out Ashtech's website now leads to a laser cutting company. It all strikes me as odd, considering the aggressive PR campaign Ashtech had when he was making his still active. I mean, for such a scant discography currently to his name, dude's got quite the Wiki written up. Anyone know what's up with that?

Walkin' Target has gradually grown better to my ears over the years (decade!). True, it's still not doing much different with reggae-dub and dancehall that you can't hear elsewhere, but it does it so well, I don't give a care. Maybe it's that I haven't heard many other albums of this sort in all that time, due to my lackadaisical efforts exploring this genre deeper beyond its shores. Then again, every time I throw this album on, folks within earshot always get their bop on when hearing Essential Credential, so that must mean ol' Ash' and Gaudi were onto something "natural universal" here.)


IN BRIEF: Ready on d’em roots, aigh’t?

The British must feel an eternal bond to Jamaica since the colonial period; it has to be the reason several UK youth are constantly inspired by the Caribbean island’s music. Roots, reggae, dub, and everything in between is as much a fixture with England’s potheads as grime is with the slums of London. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that many Jamaican immigrants bring their musical philosophies with them; one love between two island nations... or such.

Despite being Italian of origin before settling in London, Mr. Andrea Nicoletti – Ashtech - has felt this influence no less; chalk it up to his bass playing background - when you feel ‘d’em riddims’, the bass-heavy production of dub beckons. Long a collaborator, this is the first time he’s taken center-stage on a full-length, and he doesn’t hold back on exploring what roots music has to offer.

...such to the point he almost falls into the trap of merely copying it rather than providing his own spin. If you’ve casual knowledge of this music, you’ll find there isn’t much stylistically unique on Walkin’ Target. Ashtech honors the foundation pioneers like King Tubby laid out all those decades ago, so if this has never held much appeal for you, then it’s doubtful his album will change your mind.

Also, as this is very groove-orientated music, the direction of a given track is typically found in the sub-bass frequencies. As a result, those without the speakers to bring out the full dynamics of the lower end of the sonic realm (I’m looking at you, iPod generation) will be missing out. That extra layer of sound can vastly change your perspective of a given song here: where a run-of-the-mill roots tune will sound ordinary on ol’ laptop speakers, suddenly there’s something rather special going on once powerful sub-whoofers show just how intuitive that bassline really is.

Hmm, two nitpicks right out of the gate. Am I going to say anything nice at all about Walkin’ Target then? Absolutely, but I know you people can be fickle when it comes to dub, so best I clearly establish the generalizations before I get to the particulars, eh?

So... the particulars.

This is as fine a collection of dub as you’ll find these days. Already mentioned are the basslines, which grumble and growl in many cuts, but let us not forget about all the effects that come with the package. Cavernous reverb, endless streams of decay, stuttery echoes: all accounted for and present, with none sounding superfluous or overdone (an all too common side-effect from too much reefer indulgence with other acts). And while Walkin’ Target is mostly Ashtech’s show, the presence of long-time dub producer Gaudi in the studio with him definitely aids in getting the most out of all the production tricks the genre’s been known for. Even if the roots of the music are over-familiar, there are plenty of unique twists and turns provided to keep the attentive entertained.

And Ashtech does dabble in many variations too. There’s bouncy dub (Beat Da Drum, Gringo , Mahayana), darker ambient excursions (Buzz Dub, R.E.M.), grimier cuts borrowing from London’s dubstep scene (While The Music Plays, DNA), and traditional reggae styles (Sun Shines On You, Essential Credential). Even hip-hop and techno get an influential nod (Individuality and Plain Speaking, respectively).

As good as many as these are though, it’s when Cheshire Cat lends his talents to a track that things are taken up a notch on this album. You may recognize him as the guy releasing pressure or chanting about poor men on Leftfield tunes. While most of his toasting here is in support of Ashtech’s tracks, they add that extra bit of quirky roots vitality which is utterly infectious.

Except for the title track itself, where the Cat completely steals the show. Mind, that’s kind of the point, as he tells a harrowing story of inner-city strife: the death of a young man trying to make it big, dying for his troubles, and the anguish felt by his mother as a result. Ashtech wisely produces a backing track to complement the tale, and is the clear highlight of Walkin’ Target.

I suppose there’s little more to say here, as this release really does speak for itself. Revolutionary? Not really. Niche specific? Yeah, pretty much. Good nonetheless? Damn skippy, hippie! If Ashtech displays this much skill in honoring the past, one can only wonder what his future will hold.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2007. © All rights reserved.

Ceephax - Volume Two (Original TC Review)

Rephlex: 2007

(2017 Update:
I haven't delved into Andy Jenkinson's material as much as I'd like, and that's almost entirely due to his discography's lack of CD options. Vinyl, digital offerings, tapes... absolutely, but the compact disc is a rare beast when it come to the Ceephax Acid Crew story. Not having a steady label doesn't help either. After the pair of albums on Rephlex, it appeared he'd taken a further step up the IDM ladder in releasing United Acid Emirates on Mike Paradinas' Planet Mu.

That was 2010, and he's barely touched the LP format since. A few singles have cropped up though, almost all through Andy's own Waltzer print, so at least the project has kept going in some capacity. He might be moving on from the Ceephax stuff though, dipping his feet into the soundtrack business this past year on the Troma film, Essex Spacebin. Eh, never heard of Troma? They of Toxic Avenger infamy? Yeah, that studio. How on Earth did Ceephax hook up with those wackos?)


IN BRIEF: An acidy timewarp.

If rumors are to be believed, acid is on the verge of a huge comeback. Really, it’s already been burbling just under the radar of clubland. Acid house, in sharing a similar aesthetic, can often be heard in ‘minimal’ sets. Meanwhile, the whole maximal techno camp shows no qualm in letting the ol’ TB-303 loose. And of course those wiggly-squiggly lines never left the psy trance scene. Now that it’s been twenty years since the sound first exploded into British consciousness, you can be rest assured there will be a flood of retrospective releases celebrating everything acid.

In the meantime, we have Andy Jenkinson, one of the new breed of IDM producers who fell in love with acid and honors it like it’s still the early 90s. Well, that’s not entirely accurate. As the younger brother of Tom Jenkinsion (aka: Squarepusher), he seems to also enjoy making other leftfield sounds like ‘drill’n’bass’, analogue ambient, and even casiocore.

Initially the Ceephax moniker was established to deal with that side of his work while the more cumbersome-named Ceephax Acid Crew tinkered with trance. Hah, no, of course it’s acid. Anyhow, upon getting signed to Rephlex (founded by some guy named Richard D. James - perhaps you’ve heard of him?), Andy merged the two together and released two albums dealing with these different aspects of his productions: Volume One, from earlier in the year, featured his IDM side of things, while this here Volume Two takes on the TB-303 and ambiance.

And while he doesn’t stretch the sound too far off the beaten path, he struts his acid stuff with winning results. Tracks like Snifter’s Acid, Scary Pollution, and Cold War Acid has it bubbling and squiggling along. Elsewhere, Andy cranks the tweakin’ up a few notches in Acid Schroeder, Acid Breezer (have I typed ‘acid’ enough yet?), and Vulcan Venture. In all, it’s a fun assortment of 303 indulgence, but there is an elephant in this room that also has to be dealt with: production quality.

When I say Andy honors the early 90s, it isn’t merely with fanciful aesthetics; I mean it literally. Rhythms are incredibly tinny by modern standards, with under-powered sounds and arrangements that don’t stray far from techno’s raw roots. If you didn’t know better, you’d swear this was a release from Rephlex’s birth-year rather than fifteen years on. At some points, you have to wonder just what these may have sounded like had he brought his production into the 21st century. For example, Vulcan Venture is a smashing exercise in pounding techno, a beast of a tune as is. Yet what if it had been made with modern equipment? Monstrous is what it would be!

Still, once the album does gets a few tracks under its belt, these production limitations don’t seem to matter as much. It’s rather like watching a classic sci-fi movie: yes, the special effects are hilariously primitive by today’s standards, but when the plot is solid enough to grab your attention, you don’t even notice it. And the plot in Volume Two is indeed solid.

Or rather, Andy’s tracks are good enough to enjoy even with the unapologetic restrictions he places upon himself. Whether with funk or with reckless energy, all of his acid workouts will hook you in (well, aside from the go-nowhere loopfest that is Scary Pollution). But especially so with the lovely melodies he interjects into his tracks, proving there’s more to his work than a love of what acid can do for you.

These melodies manifest themselves more prominently in his ambient excursions, which bookend the album. Opener LW Traveller is interesting but noodles a bit too much. However, as a somber minimalist piece, closer Ravenscar is quite nice, even if Andy does get a tad over-experimental towards the end of it. Still, at least it isn’t quite as wank as the stuff he does in TX Ogre.

Ultimately, your decision to commit debit to disc with Volume Two will depend entirely upon whether you enjoy old school acid techno. As easy as it is be fooled into thinking so, this isn’t a throwback album; Andy simply likes vintage equipment and makes ample use of it - warts, limitation, and all. If you do too, then by all means hop on the ride with the Ceephax Acid Crew.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2007. © All rights reserved

Infected Mushroom - Vicious Delicious (Original TC Review)

YoYo Records: 2007

(2017 Update:
Remember when some Infected Mushroom fans figured this was the absolute worst the duo could reach? Haha, oh you darling dickens, just wait until a weird, parasitic, futuristic noise known as 'brostep' invades their sound. Maybe you'll accept the 'nu-metal' stuff after all then.

When I was writing this a decade ago (!!), I couldn't help but worry whether I had any right claiming authoritative insight on what metal fans would like. For all intents, IM lured in quite a few to the ranks of psy-trance, fascinated by the strange sounds and twisted production tricks unlike anything they'd heard paired with power chords and heavy riffage before. Going back to it though, this album still sounds overwrought and corny, making me embarrassingly cringe in the hopes the music's not leaking too much out of my headphones such that complete strangers give me The Look. But it's not like I haven't enjoyed pseudo-serious metal myself (oh hi, Pantera) - taste will always be subjective, and if Vicious Delicious somehow does it for you (!!!), you shouldn't feel any shame in that. Only fans of Handsup should be ashamed of any pride in listening to that rubbish. Shame on you, Handsup fans.)


IN BRIEF: An attempt to appeal to the most moronic of metal fans.

To say Infected Mushroom’s previous album IM The Supervisor was received with mixed reviews would be too kind. More specifically, it divided their fanbase into two solid camps: those who fully embraced the duo’s forays into metal riffage and singing, and those who wouldn’t give them another chance unless they knocked it off with the guitars and got back to making psy trance. Perhaps it's silly to have such expectations on them though. After all, they've clearly stated they’d rather try different music than stay in a specific niche. Still, this is the psy scene we’re talking about here - although fun, it is quite insular to the rest of the music world.

And unfortunately for such fans, Erez Aizen and Amit ‘Duvdev’ Duvdevani are showing no signs of which way they want to go either. They moved to Los Angeles to escape their Israeli scene stereotype, yet retain mostly a psy trance following whenever on tour. They’ve been featured on the cover of DJ Mag, but probably only as a means of that rag trying to gain some ‘underground’ cred for covering a psy act. And are they trying to be rock or trying to be psy? Who knows anymore. Even their latest album - Vicious Delicious - finds this split personality in full effect, with half the tracks sounding like either or.

I’m almost at a quandary whether we should be covering this release at all. When the duo embrace metal, it’s a full plunge; very little of their electronic background is retained beyond studio tricks that add to a track’s production. This isn’t like S.U.N. Project or other ‘buttrock goa’ acts that would use guitars as something to complement acid squelches; this is Infected Mushroom doing rap-metal, or prog-metal, or metal-metal. But an electronic act they still are, as the standard psy tracks on Vicious Delicious attest to. And ultimately, Infected Mushroom are more electronic than Neil Young, right?

For as large of a name Infected Mushroom is though, I’m amazed at how average their psy trance offerings are here. The track Suliman, for instance. With chunky rubbery hooks, vocal samples, and squelchy guitar licks, this could have been produced by any number of Israeli acts. Of course, its possible producers in Israel are copying the duo due to their success, but it doesn’t excuse them from sounding like everyone else either. Eat It Raw isn’t much better, going through so many meandering psy motions, you’d be hard pressed to remember it later. Change The Formality suffers from directionless writing too, but is redeemed by better sounds at play and an incredibly infectious vocal hook (and probably one of the best on the whole album, but I’ll get to the vocals in bit). Beyond, in avoiding many of Israeli psy’s more annoying clichés, is a nice trancer in its own right but sounds strangely out of place.

Ah yes. Israeli psy clichés. Let me talk to you about them for a moment. The title track Vicious Delicious is filled with the best and worst of them. First the good: the climax is great, with a build that just keeps piling the tension on and on; whenever full-on nails this it’s possibly some of the most exciting electronic music out there, and Infected Mushroom hits it wonderfully here. It comes in the last third of the track though, and you have to sit through a bunch of nonsense to get there: lots of rambling tangents, and lots of ridiculous sounds. What even is that? A burbling baby mixed with intestinal indigestion? Just idiotic.

Still, when compared to the duo’s metal offerings...

The flamenco-styled Becoming Insane is tolerable thanks to the catchy guitar licks but the rest of their offerings are hilariously awful. You'd think they were a couple of teens who'd just discovered Metallica for the first time. It’s bad enough their limp attempt at prog-metal (Heavy Weight) relies on the simplest of power-chords and acoustic melodies to get the long-hairs thrashing their heads (and I’m not talking about the hippies). It’s bad enough Forgive Me sounds like they were inspired by shit-rockers Nickelback. And it’s bad enough Special Place is a misguided combination of rambling Israeli psy with rock. No, the ultimate abomination is their attempts to sound like Linkin fucking Park!

Artillery is rap-metal at its most hokey. With one-time mainstream Canadian rappers Swollen Members in support, Infected Mushroom apparently never got the notice this style of music was officially declared uncool for a number of years now; ever since the initial fanbase of the genre grew out of their prepubescent stage and matured. While the raps are at least functional, 'Duvdev' sounds like he's shooting for Chester Bennington but ends up sounding closer to Chad Kroeger of the aforementioned shit-rock group Nickelback. Here's the actual chorus:

“Loooooooocccked insiiiiiiiiidde this caaaaaaAAAAAAggee agaaaaAIIIiiinnn!”

But guess what! Infected Mushroom decide they need to cover all aspects of metal on this release, and offer to their listeners In Front Of Me, a power ballad! Good God, no.

Folks may think I’m being harsh on Infected Mushroom because they decided to venture out of their familiar psy trappings, that I dislike their metal offerings because of their use of guitars and such. Not at all. Heavy guitars have often worked wonderfully in EDM, with Liam Howlett's usage the greatest example. Fact of the matter, though, is Infected's metal songs are just amateur at best and crap at worst, with songwriting at a level only young teenage boys would think is innovative. I’ll grant ‘buttrock goa’ was never exactly musically creative either, but at least it had tongue-in-cheek self-awareness of this fact. Infected Mushroom seems to believe these tracks are actually good. And production wise, yes I’ll grant they are. But make no mistake: Vicious Delicious’s metal is for beginners ...or psy trancers who are easily amazed at the inclusion of a guitar, judging by some of their fans’ reactions. I find if I reduce my brain to the thoughts of an angst–filled fourteen year old, the songs are tolerable but I shouldn’t have to rely on drinking a six-pack of cheap beer in the school park before 11pm to enjoy an album.

All in all, Vicious Delicious is an average psy trance release, and a metal release bordering on parody; there is no middle-ground. If Infected Mushroom stay on this path, they should have little trouble in continuing the alienation of their old fanbase, yet also satisfying them just the same. Trying to have your cake and eating it too has never been so apparent.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2007. © All rights reserved

Vitalic - V Live (Original TC Review)

Play It Again Sam [PIAS]: 2007

(2017 Update:
Considering this was my first Vitalic review for TranceCritic (or ever for that matter), I'm surprised I didn't go heavier on the background info. Maybe I'd name-dropped him enough times prior to not need it? Eh, just as well that I didn't, this review already super bloated as it is. All the ranting, raving, and point-making I do regarding live album mixdowns could have easily been summed up in a few sentences, but for some daft reason, I go for a few paragraphs on the subject. Probably trying to cover my ass in defense of whatever counter-arguments could be made in favor of this CD, an obviously moot point now.

Interestingly, V Live was a limited-run release, of only five thousand "specimens". Considering many CD runs seldom crack the one thousand mark these days, I find that hilarious such a number is considered limited. Erm, I also don't have a physical copy of this, but I doubt I'd have to pay much to snag a copy if I really wanted one. Which I don't. Yeah, this hasn't held up at all, espcially now that Vitalic's added three more LPs to his resume since (called the date of the second one here!). I wouldn't mind hearing another stab at a live album from him though - fix the issues I had here, and we're good to go!)


IN BRIEF: Not OK, cowboy.

Vitalic has to be both the most exciting and the most frustrating new producer of this decade. In a time when fresh ideas are rare, Mr. Pascal Arbez-Nicolas has not only made an undeniable impact with his work, but double-lapped damned near everyone else in the process. His debut Poney EP will probably go down as among the most important singles of the 00s, and the follow-up album OK Cowboy kept his star firmly in place. Unfortunately for fans though, the Frenchman has an irritatingly sluggish output rate. True they say absence makes the heart grow fonder, and lord knows Vitalic’s followers salivate at every whiff of a new tune, but for someone who’s shown so much promise it’s almost criminal that Pascal has kept a cool head and resisted the temptation to release tracks en masse. At this rate, you’d think he was trying to mimic Leftfield’s career from the 90s (which means don’t expect a new album until about 2009).

Given his small discography, the idea of a live album seems odd. More so is the fact over half the tracks on here are either new or unreleased cuts, some of which have been specifically made for his live shows. While this sounds exciting on paper - fresh Vitalic material, live setting - I could not help but feel some slight apprehension going into this. The idea of a live album often revolves around hearing an artist’s material in a different context, which in itself is good stuff, but two problems all too often crop up in the process, and V Live falls victim to both.

Let’s address the most prominent one first: the mixdown. The whole point of recording something live is to capture the show as though you might be hearing it there in person. This includes the sound resonance of the club/hall/tent/stadium/field, appropriate crowd noise, and, the trickiest bit, the energy of the event itself. Any imbalance often creates a lackluster atmosphere - muddy music, for instance, or a lack of spectator presence reducing the whole ‘live’ aspect in the process; both seem to be a common fault of many a live rock release. It’s funny, then, that V Live suffers from the exact opposite problems.

Frankly, it sounds like Pascal recorded two sources: one somewhere in the middle of the crowd, and another directly in the main output. Then he apparently took the former master and gratuitously fiddled with the volume during the mixdown. The end result is music that is mostly computer clean, with crowd noise and hall reverb jumping in and out at extreme volumes throughout; at some points the cheers are the loudest thing you hear, other times it disappears into barely a whisper.

For the life of me I cannot imagine a hall as excitable as this one would get that quiet at key points of this concert, especially when in the early going pandemonium is likely with a mere pitch bend; their enthusiasm is borderline ridiculous. I’ll grant the killer cuts - La Rock 01 will forever kick like a kangaroo mule - but why on some of the lesser moments like, say, Follow The Car? It doesn’t seem to matter what Vitalic does, they’re just in awe of seeing the Frenchman live. This crowd would cheer if he banged on a keyboard for an hour. Probably.

No, their frequent absence in the final mixdown must be deliberate, and it makes for a live recording where you either find yourself lost among a sea of caners, or stuck in one of the monitor speakers. It’s disconcerting, and hardly an ideal representation of a live Vitalic show.

But who cares about all that so long as the tunes are mint, eh? After all, Pascal didn’t become the sensation he is by producing the odd gem with a bunch of mediocre wank to fill out his discography. So yes, La Rock 01, My Friend Dario, and newer cut Bells all deliver. However, they also deliver just as effectively on the albums or singles they were initially featured on and very little is done here to give them a fresh spin, which leads us to Problem #2.

Some of the most utterly bland live discs I’ve heard are often the result of hearing tunes that are near-identical to the versions heard on the original recordings. It’s fine and all to hear it while you’re actually there in concert - who doesn’t enjoy hearing their favorites played out, after all - but to have a similar rendition on yet another disc at home is redundant. If I’m going to pay money to have songs I already have, it’d better be significantly different or presented in a unique context. And there is little significantly different or unique in the way Vitalic performs his familiar songs on V Live. Honestly, I’ve heard several DJs make better use of his tunes than he does here.

What about all those new cuts though? Surely they’re worth picking this up for, right? Well, assuming you haven’t yet downloaded some set rips to hear them, mostly they’re effective club bangers containing a catchy Vitalic twist. Though none of them are quite at the level of some of Pascal’s highlights, Anatoles will probably be rubbing elbows with Poney Pt. 2 and No Fun on a ‘best of’ CD down the road. And besides, chances are you’ll be hearing the best cuts on future albums or B-sides to singles anyway. Unless you can’t possibly hold out for non-live versions of them, you’d be better off waiting and seeing rather than picking V Live up solely for these tunes.

This isn’t an entirely bad release but casual fans of Vitalic will undoubtedly come away underwhelmed. There are few surprises in Pascal’s set and the crowd unfortunately is more annoying than entertaining. Although it’ll probably still be some time before we see another full-length album from the Frenchman, V Live doesn’t have enough going for it to make this a worthwhile tide-over. When all is said and done, only completists will find long-term satisfaction with this.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2007. © All rights reserved

Various - United DJs Of America Volume 17: Scott Hardkiss (Original TC Review)

DMC: 2001

(2017 Update:
One of the very, very, very few perfect scores I gave out while writing for TranceCritic, and I still stand by it. Admittedly, what Scott Hardkiss does here probably isn't as impressive these days what with digital DJing making eclectic sets like these much easier to produce. Heck, such CDs were quite marketable and profitable for a short while a number of years back, kitchen-sink sets earning all the critical plaudits. Just makes Scott's effort here all the more remarkable having done it on vinyl, practically in spite of scene hype focusing its attention elsewhere.

Sadly, Scott passed away some four years ago now. Before then, he'd finally released a full-length album in 2009 called Technicolor Dreamer, all the while continuing to put out singles and working the DJ circuit until the end. Truly one of San Francisco's legends, taken far too soon.)

IN BRIEF: More house than a suburban district.

United DJs Of America: remember this series? If not, don’t feel too bad - it’s understandable. Despite having a number of highly respected names tied to it (Bones, Bambaataa, Knuckles, Vega, Farina, Craze… loads more), DMC had difficulty maintaining a consistent distributor, flopping around on several during its eight year run. In the end, it folded when the American dance industry entered a mild recession in the year of ‘03.

Shame, then, that San Francisco based DJ/producer Scott Hardkiss should be offered a go at this series so late in its run. Most likely know Hardkiss as that guy behind God Within and White Dove, but he was mixing up acid, breaks, and house on the West Coast scene for longer than that. As something of a recluse from the spotlight, he never quite broke out the way many of his peers did. And when finally given the opportunity to do so, his contribution to the United DJs legacy went largely unnoticed. And that, my friends, is an even bigger shame, as Hardkiss put together possibly one of the finest mixes the series ever saw.

For all its resilience and ace talent, the quality of United DJs often varied. It wasn’t uncommon for a classic release to be followed with an achingly average one, often due to the limitations DJs put themselves in by sticking to their chosen styles. Hardkiss, though, is a wildly eclectic DJ, and wouldn’t be satisfied with settling for a few forms of house. So, he went and made a mix with all of them!

Well, not all of them. Deep house is absent because this isn’t the kind of set for it. Electro house is obviously uninvited to this party either, since this release comes before that sound had really emerged. And of course euro-house is just too poppy. But yeah ...everything else - prog, acid, disco, tech; it’s all here.

So if this is such a varied mix, why did it go unnoticed? First impressions can go a long way, and in this case the opening tracks may have turned many away. Hardkiss starts with prog, and in 2001 this stuff was everywhere, with many sets sounding no different from the next. You’d be forgiven for dismissing this as Just Another Prog Mix based on the beginning.

But unlike many prog sets that drag with tension builders and transition tracks due to the room of two discs, Hardkiss knows he has far less time to get everything he wants in the seventy-four minutes a single CD offers. With no wasted meanderings, he mixes into his trademark funky acid house with Electric Skychurch’s Liberty and peaks the trip with a kaleidoscope of bubbly psychedelia in is rub of Tom Chasteen’s Freedom. And soon after that, we’re off into a festive atmosphere with The Heartists’ Bolo Horizonti, where Hardkiss gives a nod to New York as well with David Morales’ remix of the same track right afterwards.

You’d think these quick transitions between such different types of house (we’ve gone through at least four by the mid-way mark) would clash with abrupt mixes, yet Hardkiss keeps things flowing just fine, each track complementing the next without sounding forced. By contrast, a number of DJ mixes that attempt house sets of this nature sound like an MP3 player put on Random. Either it’s a testament to his skill as a DJ, or most other DJs have just grown lazy over the years by sticking with only a couple styles.

The house music continues jumping all over the place as the set carries on: funk is brought in courtesy of C-Mos’ 6-2 Young; having earned our trust with his track selection thus far, Hardkiss gets away with the goofy fun of Plastika and Conga Squad’s Disco Rockin’; energetic tech injects a dose of adrenaline with Jark Prongo’s Rocket Bass (and yes, that is Push It sampled there); good-natured hip-house from Armand van Helden and Common take us out with class; and sprinklings of San Francisco’s disco funk fill in the gaps.

Critiques then. Surely there has to be something that doesn’t hold up on this half-a-decade old set. Honestly, there’s very little worth criticizing here: track arrangement is superb and the mixing is mostly unobtrusive. A couple technical issues pop up but hardly hinder; in fact, it adds to the charm of this set, giving it a rawer live feeling and thus making Hardkiss’ few DJ tricks all the more engaging. And even if you don’t fancy house music, you’ll nonetheless enjoy the positive San Fran vibes that ooze from these tracks.

Steady readers of this website probably realize these five-star ratings are rare, but Hardkiss’ foray has everything we look for in a release that earns it: diversity, creativity, and - most importantly - enjoyable engagement from start to finish. Don’t miss out on this overlooked gem.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2007. © All rights reserved

Ferry Corsten - Twice In A Blue Moon (Original TC Review)

Flashover Recordings: 2008

(2016 Update:
Welp, so much for cautious optimism from the Ferry Fan Camps. Not only did he fully completely jump on the arena house bandwagon, but he did so in such a wacky way with Markus Schulz, you wonder if he was having a mid-life crisis regarding his DJ career. I get the reason for that whole New World Punx thing - what better way to capitalize on the ballooning festival market than as a 'supergroup' a la Swedish House Mafia - but man, did the PR for the 'project' ever look ridiculous for a couple of the scene's elder statesmen. Yeah, totally we can hang with the kids at these mega-events - they like cartoon ninjas, right?

That Corsten would abandon trance isn't a surprise though, as everyone with scene clout had to if they wanted to keep their profile high in a changing market. Nor am I surprised that ol' Ferry is inching his way back to trance now that the gravy train has started showing signs of deflating, most notably testing the waters last year with a new Gouryella single. Or maybe this was his plan all along, lure the kids in with modern cheese, then unleash his vintage cheese upon them, the cheese that you do so well. Who knows, though it leaves this album in a weird no-man's land between Corsten's different eras of music making. Does anyone even remember anything off Twice In A Blue Moon?)


IN BRIEF: Back on form, but…

When Ferry Corsten’s newest album - Twice In A Blue Moon - opened with a dull deadmau5 thunk-clap-thunk-clap beat, I instantly feared the worst. Although the famed Dutch producer had been accused of running dry on fresh ideas in recent years (even by our own resident Ferry apologist J’, no less!), you still believed he would never jump on a bandwagon. Yet, here he was, offering up a just-better-than-average mau5 tune with Shelter Me. The plodding rhythm, the bare-bones melodic execution, the bland effects: Zimmerman staples, all. Could it be that Corsten had succumbed to the pressure of following trends, that his days as innovator truly were long gone?

It’s funny. Despite opinions on Corsten’s music being contentiously split between fan and foe, folks seldom disagree on the merit of his ingenuity – after all, he made his name by being a leader in his chosen field. So when he appears to have become a follower, one can’t help but feel saddened by such a notion. You continuously root for the innovators to keep innovating, as they are the ones that push the arts into interesting new directions – even if you don’t personally enjoy it, such artistic evolution still creates a positive reaction in that it spurs discussion. In short, many may not have liked what Corsten did to trance, but damned if they didn’t like talking about it. If he’s become a mere trend-jumper though, then what’s the point in discussion?

All of these musings played out in my head for about the length of time Shelter Me played out in my player; which, despite a half-decent melody somewhere in there, should tell you how interesting the track is. The over-prominent thunk-claps continue into Black Velvet; fortunately, unlike typical deadmau5, Corsten writes a pleasant song featuring a rather inspired vocal outing from Australian singer Julia Messenger (given his years in the profession, you can count on Corsten being a stronger song-writer than the guy wearing a mouse mask). From there, I realized that my initial worries were for naught, as Corsten gets ‘contemporary’ only one other time, with the double-effort in Life - Doorn production (re: boring beats with non-climaxes; very anti-Corsten, really) coupled with whiney male singer.

The rest of this album finds Ferry going more to his popular roots. Aside from one last 80s gasp with the italo-inspired We Belong (which uses elements from the old hit Happy Town by Fun Fun), Twice In A Blue Moon features a good deal of simple euro-trance with energetic beats, the kind of sound many fell in love with when they were discovering the Dutchman at the turn of the century. Whether it’s because he’s grown nostalgic for his glory years or simply decided to provide what his fanbase prefers from him is open to debate. Bottom line is if you’ve been pining for the Corsten of old, you’re going to get a good amount of enjoyment out of this album.

For those who haven’t, however, you may end up approaching Twice In a Blue Moon more cautiously. In going back to the late 90s, there isn’t much here that is groundbreaking either. Corsten’s style has long been of simple punctuality, and the tracks on this CD don’t break rank from that; the melodies are mostly straight-forward and cheery, though hardly standout. Tracks like lead single Radio Crash and Brain Box feature prominent big hooks which will easily lodge in your head, although Brain Box will undoubtedly draw Zombie Nation comparisons (and what’s with that silly big horn blast? I swear I thought it was a semi-truck outside when I first heard it blare out). Meanwhile, he follows a more traditional melodically epic path with Gabriella’s Sky, Shanti, and the titular track, with each of these featuring a different twist on the formula: serviceable break-beats on the first, far-East vocal sampling for the second, and melancholy baroque with the last. These three tracks are easily the best on the album. Oh, and the final ‘outro’ track sounds like one of those piano interludes you might hear on an Enya album – again, whether that’s good or bad will depend on your preference for such musical doodling.

Unfortunately, much like his previous efforts, Corsten’s vocal offerings remain typically generic. Aside from the aforementioned Black Velvet, none of the singers provide anything memorable. Well, Maria Nayler kind of does, in that it has that cool vocoder effect on her voice, but her lyrics are rendered moot by it – she might as well be singing, “I’m blue, da ba dee!” Betsie Larkin, an obscure singer-songwriter from New York City, makes her major debut here with the other lead single, Made Of Love, yet another by-the-book vocal euro-trance cut. For those who can’t get enough of playing sing-a-long while jumping in one spot with their hand in the air, I’m sure this track is heaven – me, I take it as my cue to fuck off to the bar (especially so with the oh-so cliché supersaw breakdown, though thankfully kept brief here).

There isn’t much to fault with Twice In A Blue Moon, but neither is there much to highly recommend either. Aside from a few instances, it comes off like a rose-hued nostalgic trip to Corsten’s memorable years - which, of course, isn’t such a bad thing. However, Ferry’s music has always been generally limited in scope (big, epic, anthems! …umm…), and such limitations remain as apparent as ever.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2009. © All rights reserved.

Various - Turbo Studio Sessions (Vol. 3) (Original TC Review)

Turbo: 2002

(2016 Update:
And so concluded one of my first attempts at a series retrospective. Not that I'd planned for it. Come to think of it, why did I even carry on reviewing these? The first one was a Random Review, true, but I cannot for the life of me recall the reason for taking on the second volume a year later. Slow month, maybe? For sure that's why I went into Vol. 3 half a year later, plus it just made sense to wrap that up since it was one of the few compilations series that I did have a complete set of. I've since gathered a few more.

While I know Turbo only puts out CDs for their top-billed albums (if even that), it's a shame they don't still do these Studio Sessions. It was a wonderful way of bringing to light the unheralded underground gems that fall through the cracks, all the while breaking new artists and sounds. The label still maintains a finger on the pulse of hot house and techno, so why not keep something like this series on the market, maybe even as a digital option? Eh, they do have one, called Turbo #Beatport Decade? Alrighty then; hard copies, NAOW!)


IN BRIEF: Electroclash at its finest.

For the few years Tiga’s little-label-that-could grew in prominence, it had played things safe with the underground crowd - house, techno, eclectic DJ mixes: all tried and tested fields with hipsters. Then, seemingly overnight, Turbo’s focus changed, fully embracing the sounds of electroclash coming out of Europe right at the cusp of that scene’s breakout. The shift hinted at Turbo growing assured enough to be a leader rather than a follower. What they would need then, was big singles tied to their name.

It wouldn’t be enough for them to merely import DJ Hell’s label either. If Turbo was to cement itself as a label to be reckoned with, they would have to bring fresh material of their own rather than ride on International Deejay Gigolo’s coattails. Tiga’s cover of Corey Hart’s Sunglasses At Night was a start, but with a scene ripe with innovation and potential, surely there would be more. With their third Studio Sessions compilation, Turbo found the perfect outlet to introduce the next wave of nu-new wave artists.

Looking at this release’s tracklist today, there seems to be a fair number of obvious electroclash hits. However, these were quite new in late 2002; only the most underground of collectors knew who acts like Black Strobe, LCD Soundsystem, and Chromeo were. Of course, within a year of Sessions 3 being released, tracks like Me & Madonna, The Biggest Fan, and Needy Girl were featured on more nouveau electro compilations than anyone can remember now. Does this make them any less endearing today? Not at all. These hits were good then and they still hold up today. And with that scene having gone by the wayside, you don’t have the annoying ‘currently overplayed’ factor impeding on your enjoyment of them.

Still, because they were such popular songs, you can find them on any similarly themed compilation. Your decision on whether you should pick-up Sessions 3 in the here and now will be decided on how the supporting cast handles itself. Let’s take a look-see then.

Although a few tracks retain some of Turbo’s older eclecticism, (most notably the first two cuts), this is mainly an electroclash compilation - but that’s a rather ambiguous term, then and now. More specifically, Sessions 3 features a smorgasbord of styles that got tagged with the catch-all buzzword: disco punk, synth-pop, art-dance. In general, if it contained elements of electro and playful narcissism, you were electroclash whether you liked it or not. Tracks like Mt. Sims’ Escape Hatch, Plastique de Reve’s Rodeo Mechanique, and Sean Kosa’s Spaceship hold such quirkiness, but aren’t endearing examples. Better off is the pure electro from Lowfish’s Dark Matter, and an indie-rockish Fujiya & Miyagi track.

A major standout though (and surprising choice these days) is pre-Time Magazine interviewees Scissor Sisters, who’s irresistible faux-workout romp Electrobix conjures up the silliest moments of 80s workout videos. Who would have ever guessed this act would blow up the way they did a year later? Perhaps Tiga did, which makes the inclusion of their debut single on Sessions 3 look genius by hipster standards. And speaking of Tiga (again), his remix of Crossover’s Phostographt also fits the ‘so campy, it’s great’ bill nicely, as it displays the graceful yet devilishly playful streak in his productions.

Meanwhile, with Turbo’s fortunes looking good, Tiga started up a couple sub-labels, both of which have material featured on a disc each. Their criteria was focused on specific styles rather than the broader strokes Turbo’s singles often released.

The shortest lived of these sub-labels was Fabergé. In fact, almost all of its total output can be found here, as only two singles were ever made: Chromeo’s She’s So Gangsta (of which the Playgroup instrumental is included) and Shawn Ward’s Street Smart EP (with two groovy tech-house cuts offered). Peter Benisch’s Song For A Heart (as Bifrost) never saw a release beyond this compilation, which is a shame as the track is hauntingly lovely, and shouldn’t be left buried in obscurity.

White Leather held out a little longer but it too eventually went by the wayside. The tracks offered in this sub-label’s name are more interesting, as they mostly fall under that pure electro umbrella of sound, with 808 drum machine programming, under-produced synths, and heavy vocoder usage (DMX Krew and Sean Kosa exempt in this case). The instrumental cuts from D’Arcangelo and Jordan Dare are fun, but Neonwerk and Peter Benisch (as FPU this time) steal the show with their moody soundscapes and mesmerizing vocoder work. Strangely enough, neither of their tracks would see a proper White Leather release, although Seven Of Nine did appear on the full-length FPU Turbo release while Neonwerk had their own label Star Whores anyway (heh... gotta’ love that euro-trashiness).

While Sessions 3 doesn’t contain the stylistic variety of the previous releases, it is probably the best of all three. It’s rare for a two-disc compilation to remain as tightly focused as this one does, but there is an amazing amount of variety to be had despite sticking to a very similar sound throughout. Of course, if that whole electroclash sound never appealed to you, you probably won’t get much out of this release. If you do enjoy the kitschy side of electronic music though, then seek out this little gem of a compilation. There’s enough balance between big hits and classy unknowns to draw in both the casual and the ardent music collector.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2007. © All rights reserved.

Various - Turbo Studio Sessions (Vol. 2) (Original TC Review)

Turbo: 2001

(2016 Update:
A reasonable length? Using descriptive events rather than dry detail to cover music within? Actual readable content rather than rambly word salads? I didn't think 2006 Sykonee had it in him, yet here he was, finally getting his act together in providing material of much higher quality than what came before. Erm, and was still ahead, if I'm honest. And yeah, the opening couple paragraphs are woefully redundant now, but that second half, is that ever a fun read.

Definitely felt a strong surge of inspiration with this one, so many good tunes from unexpected names throughout this CD. Shame that its such an obscure release, even by Turbo standards, as the label's DJ mixes continued outshining the scant compilations. With unheralded, overlooked tracks from Adam Beyer, Joel Mull, Shawn Ward, and Jori Hulkkonen on here, its like the ultimate mixtape from Tiga. Not to mention the lone contribution from THE VANDAL! Man, we needed more electroclashy covers of U2, did we ever.)


IN BRIEF: The times, they were changin' (at Turbo).

Turbo’s track record had been practically flawless when this came out, building up a solid reputation for ace DJ mixes of mostly house music (with a little techno and, *gasp*, even a d’n’b one!). There was a sense of change abundant in the little-Canadian-label-that-could though, as Tiga was apparently smitten by a new wave of EDM. Although this change could mostly be felt in the tone of Turbo’s musical manifesto, it also became apparent ambitions were growing as well. No longer content in providing great DJ mixes, the label was showing greater emphasis on pushing original productions.

Not that Turbo didn’t promote such material here and there, but as a fledgling label aiming for recognition based on DJ talent, such releases hardly registered. Despite the quality of the track selection in their first Studio Sessions, it didn’t quite have the diversity needed to break from the pack. It was a safe compilation, going with what worked to earn hip points with the press, mainly soulful house and Detroit techno with touches of funk and minimal to spice it up.

Vol. 2 of this series sees Turbo a little bit wiser, a little more self-assured ...and a whole lot more eclectic. While some of the same styles of music return in this follow-up, there’s plenty of new faces mixing in: dub, trip-hop, acid, micro-house, breaks, swing jazz, ambient, and some (at the time) new-fangled thing called ‘electroclash’. Quite a bold move, that last one, as this new sound was still relegated to ‘super hipster underground’ status at this point. There was no bandwagon to jump on yet, and who knew if the Turbo faithful would buy into it?

Actually, that’s a silly question. A label like Turbo doesn’t build up a winning reputation by taking chances their fanbase won’t buy into. Their fans often gave them the freedom to surprise them with something different, and very rarely would Turbo let that trust fail. In fact, Studio Session 2 comes across as something more than a simple collection of tunes: rather, this sounds like a love-letter to the Turbo faithful. Tiga and co. take their followers on an exquisite night out on the city, allowing the listener to tag along in their zany adventures to find the perfect beat.

With a smile and a twinkle in the eye, the compilation kicks off with Good Life, a fun little romp of jazzy rhythms and effect washes. As we head out into the night, we’re taken on a pre-amble cruise through deep house vibes and dubby delights care of Brommage Dub, Shawn Ward, and Snaporaz. It’s like snacking on fine sushi in a post-modern lounge while sipping on a fancy drink with a few too many curls in the straw (for irony’s sake, of course). You can practically smell the hipster cologne in the air.

But this is merely the warm-up, the initial stretch. Slightly uneasy tones are heard from elsewhere (courtesy of The Whisper by Hijack), hinting at possible sinister shenanigan to be found away from these cosmopolitan surroundings. Fearlessly, we enter the underground where the wicked techno of Jori Hulkkonen’s Wispers greats us with infectiously grooving rhythms and out-of-tune synth strings. OH! AND ACID!! LOVE THE BRIEF SQUIGGLY BITS OF ACID!!!

Jori’s electro romp is about as fun as this underground techno adventure gets though, as these next couple of tracks are serious business. Joel Mull does give us some murky funky flair over shuffling rhythms but Adam Beyer takes no prisoners in his downtempo track Those Funny Moments: thick beats sludge along as unsettling string swells and paranoid droid noises wrap you up in a suffocating mechanical menace. You can practically feel the grime on those cold, concrete warehouse walls.

The underground’s all fine and dandy for a while, but it’s time to head back out and cruise the streets once more, this time with a sense of playfulness as we reflect on the night. The ADNY track is interesting, but not particularly enduring. However, attempting to resist the White Linen remix of Crockett’s Theme is, um, futile. Between fey plucky synths and a bubbly bassline over tinny electro-breaks, this remix is filled to the rim with witty charm.

However, the night runs long, and it’s time to head back home and unwind. Throw on some easy downtempo vibes (Swayzak’s State of Grace); work on that quirky sounding cover of a U2 song that could be the beginnings of a hot new genre called electroclash (New Year’s Day, as done by Tiga and Jori going by The Vandal); finally be swept up in ambient bliss as you lie down to bed with a content smile of a night well spent (Peter Benisch’s Love Theme).

Okay, so maybe you won’t get all that out of Studio Sessions Vol. 2 as I did. For all I know, you may treat this compilation completely on the straight and narrow, as nothing more than a solid collection of rare releases from a Canadian label that got lucky with some choice singles and a breakout star. As that, you really can’t go wrong with this release. It’s got diversity, it’s got class, it’s got head noddin’ bits, catchy bits, and moving bits - all the things you’d expect from Turbo, really. Check it out and see where this music will take you.

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

Ed Rush & Optical - Travel The Galaxy (Original TC Review)

Virus Recordings: 2009

(2016 Update:
Deary me, but was this review ever a comedy of punctuation errors. Love that semi-colon any harder, 2009 Sykonee. This was a latter-era TranceCritic write-up too, so I should have known better than that. Maybe collegiate essay writing had gotten the better of me? Whatever the case, I've corrected a bunch of those eyesores, though not all - can't let me off on every past transgression. One that most definitely needed amending was calling Ed Rush & Optical 'darkside'. Fool, they're tech-step, slowly morphing into darkstep. Trust me, if TC had a Junglist Oversight Committee, I'd have been fired on the spot for that one. (why would a trance website have such a committee...?)

This was Eddy and Optical's last record for quite some time, the duo finally returning to the LP market just this past year with No Cure. Naturally they kept busy in the interim, but fans were starved for a while, which gave Travel The Galaxy ever increasing kudos for what it accomplished. It probably didn't hurt that darkstep saw something of a resurgence when 'drumstep' entered the scene, a hybrid of dubstep that freely took cues from darkstep's aggressive, attacking basslines. The two sub-genres mesh quite well together, many up-and-comer jocks playing ample amounts of both in their sets. I approve.)


IN BRIEF: Not much new, but so what?

In some ways, the backlash against ‘darkstep’ was the best thing for that sub-genre of drum’n’bass. Everyone was in agreement that the sound had grown overbearingly worn-out shortly after the turn of the century, which allowed the liquid funk camps to easily take over. Though the old guard that championed evil basslines and such never relented, all the imitators and band-wagoners were eventually cleared out, and ‘darkstep’ is now firmly back in the hands of the pioneers. Sadly, nearly all but the most dedicated has forgotten about them in the process.

There’s just been far too much time and new directions in the scene since seminal singles like Alien Girl sent partiers quivering into corners with fear. Neurofunk, rockin’ Pendulum… all that stuff Ed Rush & Optical spearheaded and nurtured with guys like Technical Itch and Dieselboy seems quite old hat today, a relic of a by-gone era when their scene was quite willing to suffocate on its self-created abyss. Folks needed an escape and by golly, the Hospital crew, Soul:r, and, er, Pendulum were willing to offer some respite from the horrors Virus Recordings and their associates were generating. But it’s not like the sound ever lost its destructive force on a dance floor. You can still find tracks being rinsed out by jungle DJs the world over, but as accentuated points within a set rather than being a running theme. Apathy over the techier side of take-no-prisoners d’n’b is still apparent though, so it’s a bloody shame the new album from the sub-genre’s standard bearers - Ed Rush & Optical - will go relatively unnoticed. Travel The Galaxy is probably one of the most satisfying full-lengths of darkstep and neurofunk in some time; and not just as a strong collection of singles, but as a complete play-through as well, which is remarkable because they barely stray off their chosen path.

From the moment you press ‘Play’ and for a long while, this album has a feeling of business as usual. Oh, business is definitely good but long-standing detractors of Eddie and Op’s sound aren’t going to find anything of interest here. For the faithful though, there’s plenty of choice to gorge on. You got your rollicking sci-fi beasts like City 17 and Temper; there’s your swinging sub-sub-bass funk groove in Magical Thinking and Chubrub; Snaggletooth, the obligatory cut that seems purely designed to torture your bass bins. Some knowing winks to the old guard with their vintage sounds, like a vocal sample in Snaggletooth saying “darkside”, followed by the classic vwwompp-vwwompp Reece bassline (yes, it may be a cliché, but these two wrote the book on that cliché, so it’s allowed - forward written by Grooverider). And then a couple solid cuts that could very well be b-sides (Padded Cells and Move It). So all well and good; the album’s certainly worthy of a 7 up to this point. However, Eddie and Op don’t seem content with such a score, so they start breaking form a little in the latter half of the album.

G-Force Jesus throws in ominous choirs with the galloping beats and basslines, which of itself would be pretty damned cool, but Eddie and Op take things one step further with a breakdown which could have been a solid slice of tech house on its own. At first, The Kindred seems like ‘just another tech thriller’ akin to Temper, yet there’s far more energy to this cut than heard elsewhere. Same with Titanium, which shares status with Snaggletooth as a ‘bassline experimentation’ cut, but my God is the bassline here ever something to behold - like an Imperial Star Destroyer reactor come to life! And finally, in one of the ballsiest moves I’ve heard from the neurofunk camps, Eddie and Op take a stab at liquid funk in Space Monkey, of all things. The epic builds, the wailing divas, and the exhilarating momentum - all Hospital staples, yet here imbued with the kind of sci-fi attributes you’d expect from Virus.

Even with this strong finish, Travel The Galaxy still seems like a 7 on paper, as we’re mostly stuck in the realms of darkstep and it can be rather excessive to endure for a full album’s worth, especially so with the uncompromising final cut Schrander's Dice. Yet, when you actually listen to this album, you can’t help but get caught up in the themes and energy Eddie and Op present to you. In fact, that’s always been the draw of jungle of this sort, and despite it not being as popular as before, these twelve cuts prove darkstep still has all the power and heart it once did. That’s worth the extra little nudge up a mark.

Fans will love this album, haters will likely ignore it. For the rest of the potential audience - those who’ve, say, grown tired of Pendulum’s shtick - there’s plenty for you to cut your teeth on here. Travel The Galaxy may be walking familiar territory, but it’s nonetheless a solid starting point for the curious.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2009. © All rights reserved.

John Digweed - Transitions, Volume 2 (Original TC Review)

Thrive Records: 2007

(2016 Update:
Holy cow, 2007 Sykonee, can you talk about the actual music on this CD at all? This review just peaks over the thousand-word mark, and I probably spend maybe one-hundred fifty going over the tracks. Granted, I needed some time devoted to re-introducing Diggers to the modern audience, where his career had gone since his peak years, what developments had led to his current sound, and all that. Probably not as many words spent here, but some, sure. But then I totally derail the review for some overlong tangent regarding genre demarcations and the like, and I'm reading it in the here and now thinking, "who fucking cares!?" There's a kernel of an interesting discussion lodged in that mess, but as with so many of my early writing efforts, is hopelessly lost in unfettered, ramble-bramble thought salads. Also, who'd have believed dubstep would be the first electronic genre claiming the "post" affix?

And as for our pal John, he kept Transitions going into the next year, realized the trends were a'changing once again, and moved onto heavier, groove orientated tech-house, with a few nods to melodic prog for good measure. He's found about as comfortable a niche in his market as any DJ could hope for at this late stage of his career, and shows little sign of shaking the gravy boat anytime soon. Aw, it'd have been funny hearing him try on some 'future garage' for size.)


IN BRIEF: Proggin’ along.

Ol’ Diggers certainly seems to be on a roll lately. These past couple years have seen his output rival even that of his time at the top of the DJ domain. Is it a renewed vitality after some downtime away from the glaring spotlight of superstardom? Might it be a rediscovered love affair for music after indulging in his roots with his Choice collection? Could it really have something to do with the hair?

Whatever the case, John Digweed’s career is proving to be quite durable. Of course, anyone who’s followed his DJing since the Renaissance era shouldn’t have doubted his ability to find a comfortable niche within current trends, but there were many who did: the prog house that made him a star had grown stale as this decade took form, and new sounds and ideas were engulfing clubland, many of which sounded radically different from the Bedrock template we all knew and loved. But with the cool confidence of a man who’s seen many such changes, Digweed rode the shaky initial waves of musical transition and held on for the ride until things settled back into clear forms, leaving those who couldn’t adapt in the backwash of the surf. (I’ll stop with the metaphors now)

For those still not clued in, Transitions is John’s radio show, and would also appear to be the namesake of his commercial DJ mixes now as well. This is the first time we’ve had a direct sequel to a prior DJ mix with Digweed the only man behind the decks, and word is this will be an on-going series. Perhaps it’s about time for such a series from him, as it helps keep his discography tidier than having all these seemingly randomly titled releases scattered about. In fact, it’s quite remarkable he never did establish one in all this time, but then it did take him a while to free himself from being joined at the hip with his buddy Sasha like a DJing conjoined twin (er... and the similes too), much less finally produce a track under his own name.

The first Transitions was met with lukewarm responses, as it seemed to try covering too much modern ground without much of a coherent theme. Additionally, while few wouldn’t figure it for a Digweed mix, it had the feeling of John attempting to fit in with what was trendy rather than carve out his own sound. Does 2 fix these problems? Considerably so.

This mix has the feeling of a traditional prog house set: you have your mellow intro tracks, followed by tension builders, a couple of scenic detours, and a climb to the climax to cap the disc off. Aside for one instance (the drunk-on-experimental effects Boul de Nerf by David K - Digweed’s duffed attempt at interjecting some glitch-wit, methinks), each track in John’s arrangement offers something intriguing enough to keep your attention maintained for the long haul as curiosity holds your interest. Well, um, that is if the initial ‘minimal’ overtones don’t send you fleeing fir-

Y’know, I’m getting really sick of having to use apostrophes around a buzzword to describe an unfortunate term for a stylistic trend. I suppose I could just break and accept it like so many others, but that would be doing proper minimal an injustice. Look, folks, because a pile of producers have reduced overproduction so harmonic frequencies are given a chance to breathe again doesn’t mean it’s suddenly a new sub-genre. It just means they’ve gone back to basics. Unless, of course, you’re all willing to call nearly everything produced before 1995 minimal. Yeah, thought not.

So, if the tracks on Transitions 2 aren’t ‘minimal’ (and first one to suggest electro gets a bitch slappin’), what are they? Easy answer: prog house with some splashings of tech house in the middle. Yes, that’s right. Structurally, the tracks on offer here aren’t all that different from the sort you’d have heard Digweed play back in the 90s; the reason why this mix works like a prog house set is because Digweed has managed to find prog house that has shifted from the old into the new.

While folks may be calling much of the sonic tricks here minimal, what we actually have been hearing lately is an infusion of IDM experimentation; many of the IDM artists from the 90s loved to tinker and toy around with oddball sounds, quirky effects and bizarre timbre. Aside for rare instances though, hardly any of it registered beyond only the most ardent fans, usually of the nerdish sort. However, it has been given a chic make-over this decade, and is now quite fashionable to produce. Oh, and with new sound patches and plug-ins. Can’t forget the new sound patches and plug-ins. These factors have contributed towards a new prog house sound that is quite different from the sort John used to play out, yet still with enough familiar attributes to make it unmistakingly the Digweed we all know.

The big question, then, is what this new form of prog should be tagged, to entice those who think John is still all about Heaven Scent. Obviously, minimal and electro are out, as those styles have nothing to do with what we have here. And IDM-prog is just stupid. This is rather more like nu-prog. ...or, to be really chic these days, neo-prog. Hmm, but if we wish to pursue this question courageously, even neo’s already passé - it’s soooo 2006. How about then... post-prog! I don’t think any sub-genre of EDM has a ‘post’ yet.

Actually, all of those are ridiculously redundant. Prog itself more or less meant ‘new house’ all those years back. And to be honest, that’s all it has ever meant: a form of house music that continues to morph and change with the times, to always remain the leader in new sounds that house music can provide -interestingly, by usually borrowing from other genres (trance, for instance at one time, and now IDM it seems). And with Transitions 2, Digweed finds himself once more the leader in prog house, digging up some of the most current sounding cuts available for us to enjoy. All you prog heads out there shall not be disappointed.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2007. © All rights reserved.

Boards Of Canada - Trans Canada Highway (Original TC Review)

Warp Records: 2006

(2016 Update:
Another first-time review of a major act, another review with redundant information now that I've long since reviewed many more albums from said act. At least I didn't get too heavy into it with this EP, providing an obligatory (if flakey) backstory, with a thrown in theory to boot. It's a good theory, my thoughts on the Boards' popularity, but one that had already been floating around, namely that of 'hauntology'. A rather obscure term, Simon Reynolds really explored it in describing the aesthetic of acts like Boards Of Canada (among others like Burial and label Ghost Box). Not that I had any realization of that in here, a decade ago, but yeah, totally reiterating concepts with far more studies into them by people who get paid for such things.

Left Side Drive just might be my favorite Boards tune, though you wouldn't know from this review. Seems every time I hear it again, it draws me ever deeper into that warm bass and distant dub, losing my headspace in reflections of traversing British Columbian wilderness. It's like Silent Season distilled into five minutes of sonic bliss, and so worth repeated plays of this pleasant little EP. Hey, remember when we thought this might be the last thing Boards would ever release? Fun times!)


IN BRIEF: Traveling in Canada.

I’ve seen few fanbases grow as quickly, as widespread, and as fanatical as for the enigmatic group Boards Of Canada. Appearing seemingly out of nowhere when Warp released their album Music Has The Right To Children, they gave an ailing intelligent techno scene (or IDM, if you will) a much needed boost in the late 90s when many producers had either tried and failed at commercial success (‘electronica’) or plummeted into incomprehensible experimentation. BoC provided the antidote: interesting sonic experiments, but without abandoning digestible rhythms and melodies.

It was more than that though. BoC’s music contains an undeniable nostalgic tinge to it. Many have tried to explain how they do it but none have managed to come up with a concrete theory; which, along with a scarce back catalogue, has added to their mystique.

I won’t claim to have that answer either, but I will offer my own theory: Boards Of Canada create the music of memories. Not yours, or mine, or anyone’s in particular, but of memories itself; or rather, how we hear music in our own memories. Despite our best efforts, when music plays back in our minds it is never quite accurate, and clings at the edge of our consciousness, fading over time. BoC’s lo-fi production seems to replicate this remarkably well, and when warm, pleasing synth tones are used, childhood memories are instinctively thought of. With such universal appeal, its little wonder even indie rockers melt at hearing a Boards Of Canada melody.

Of course, BoC shouldn’t be restrained by single musical ideas, but this is where their main appeal lies. After delving into organic instrumentation on last year’s The Campfire Headphase, many of their fans were very happy to hear a return to the sound of Children on this release, Trans Canada Highway. But despite being less a single for Dayvan Cowboy (of which two versions bookend this) and more of a mini-album, there’s still very little new material that’ll satisfy their rabid fans.

For casual fans though, two tracks should interest them: Left Side Drive and Skyliner. Unlike Dayvan, which willfully makes use of orchestral arrangements and acoustic guitars along with various electronic trickery, these two are quite vintage in their production. Left Side Drive lets lazy, dubby rhythms stroll along while warm, hazy pads float in the background. And Skyliner makes a more immediate presence with quicker scattering rhythms and leading synths. While perhaps simple in their presentation, especially compared to Dayvan, both should satisfy if you crave BoC’s older style. The other two are merely ambient interludes, which are common in many of their albums. Pleasant enough, but hardly essential.

As for the remix of Dayvan, Odd Nosdam does the drone ambient thing, seemingly playing up the ‘memory’ aspect of BoC’s music with one of their own tracks. Between stretches of white noise interludes, bits of Dayvan crop up, then fades away before returning to droning sounds. An interesting listen but, like the other ambient parts of Trans Canada Highway, that is all.

Ultimately, this EP is a sparse, lonely listen, which makes sense given the title. As anyone that has driven the Trans Canada Highway can attest to, or any highway in lightly populated areas of Canada for that matter, it can be a lonesome experience (great scenery though). Having grown up in parts of the country where significant towns are often up to three hours apart, I’d travel long stretches of winding, single-lane roads snaking across mountain-sides and through forests, the only company being those in your car and the intermittent vehicle passing by. Trans Canada Highway, when listened to as a whole, uncannily replicates such a trip... or maybe that’s just that memory thing again. Still, for a Scottish duo, they are quite good at capturing aspects of Canadiana along with incredibly nostalgic music.

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

Neil Young - Trans (Original TC Review)

Geffen Records: 1982/1997

(2016 Update:
Eighteen-hundred words. That is the count. That is the amount of verbal splooge I spattered out almost a decade ago in my first attempt at writing a Neil Young review. Could it have been helped though? It was during that year's summer wherein I 'got' ol' Shakey's music, diving deep into his discography, unable to sate this craving for more of Young's work... more... MOAR! There was honestly no good reason for me to use a trance music review website as a glorified outlet in proclaiming how much awesome I heard in his music, but I had to tell 'em, Johnny; I had to tell the world. When would I ever get another chance? What, a personal blog where I review everything I own? Hah, 2006 Sykonee laughs at such a silly notion.

So of course a ton of information in this review is hilariously redundant to any consistent reader of mine, and the fanboy gushing does get tedious the deeper you go into this behemoth. Was funny reading my little pseudo-script again though, as lately I find my sentiments drifting closer to Aging Hippie as opposed to self-insert Hip Teenage Son. Time really does slip away the older you get and- oh my God! I just realized I'm currently the same age as Neil Young was when he made this album! I gotta' get me in on some of that Artistic Experimentation vibe, pronto. Maybe a review written completely in binary? Ah, no.)


IN BRIEF: A true oddity.

You can’t keep a good rocker down. No matter how many times it’s appeared Neil Young would sabotage his career, alienate his fans, or simply fade away, he comes roaring back into the spotlight, as relevant as ever, his protest album Living With War released with great controversy earlier this year. With such charming songs titled Let’s Impeach The President, you bet it raised a stir.

Whereas almost all of Young’s musical peers sustain their careers with Baby Boomer nostalgia, Neil has managed to once again draw the attention of us younger folk, regarding him as ‘one of us’ rather than an honored elder; an impressive feat for a sixty year old. And not only by appealing to current Fight The Man mentalities, but also by realizing the potential of the internet as a communication tool, something this technologically savvy generation is quite adept at. In this way, he’s snared numerous new fans who’d normally dismiss him as some old musician, and many have discovered a vast discography containing more diversity than any member of the Woodstock generation. From grungy rockers to folksy crooners and dabblings of much, much more, there’s quite a bit to check out. However, few of Young’s albums are more unique and confused more fans than his electronic one.

Just imagine the following scene in 1982:

Aging Hippie: Well, most of my old favorite bands suck these days, but good ol’ Neil’s managed to remain consistent. I’m sure this new album of his won’t disappoint.

*Throws Trans on the record player*

Aging Hippie: Hmm, this first song’s kind of weak. Never been much of a fan of this new country rock, but still kind of catchy. Maybe the next one will be better.

*Computer Age starts*

Aging Hippie: What the...? What’s with those synths? They’re so bloody loud. And that drum beat’s so repetitive. Ah, well, at least Neil’s got some good guitars and... HEY!! What the fuck’s with his VOICE!!?? What the hell did he do to it??? Is this some kind of JOKE!? ...the hell? This next song’s got it too!! What’s going on here? Hey, son, get in here!

Hip Teenage Son: Yeah, Dad?

Aging Hippie: I’ve heard you listening to stuff like this before. You have any idea what Neil’s doing here?

Hip Teenage Son: THIS is Neil Young!? Haha! You’re joking, right? It sounds like Kraftwerk. This can’t be Young.

Aging Hippie: It’s Neil alright. Do you have any idea what’s going on?

Hip Teenage Son: It sounds like he’s doing New Wave, although really heavy on the vocoders. This stuff’s popular in Europe right now.

Aging Hippie: New Wave? Hell, why’d he go and make an album like this?

Hip Teenage Son: Well, he’s said he’s a fan of Devo, so-

Aging Hippie: God, this sounds like shit. Who’d want to listen to this crap? Hell, rockabilly would be better than this, even twangy country. Why does all music suck now?

Hip Teenage Son: Hey, this stuff’s really cool, y’know. It’s the sound of the future. It’ll probably be super-popular in the 21st Century, with massive concerts and festivals being thrown to play electronic music. People will take wicked drugs that put your 60s stuff to shame, and we’ll use computers to talk to one another and revolutionize the way music is made. You’ll be able to store your huge record collection in the palm of your hand! It’s going to be great!

Aging Hippie: ..........

Aging Hippie: Son, have you been into my acid again?

It’s ironic one of Young’s most despised albums by his old fans has gone on to become something of an intriguing curiosity with his new ones, because let’s face it: even if we all don’t like it, we still get this computer music; our parents mostly don’t.

Unfortunately, because the album flopped in 1982, Trans was deleted from American circulation. You can only find it in Europe now, and not always cheaply due to the growing mysticism surrounding it. Were the songs really as bad as our parents thought? Did Young do Kraftwerk justice? Does it hold up today? With a growing number of electronic music fans curious about Young’s foray into synths and vocoders, now’s as good a time as any to shed some light on the subject.

It helps to understand Young’s mind frame at the time, as he’s always been one to put every ounce of impulsive emotion into his music. As with many rockers of his generation, the 80s were a scary place to be: synthesizers, drum machines, and tech-savvy producers were making regular old bands passé, especially since the general public didn’t mind this tinny new wave of music. But whereas his peers cowered in their safe, traditional corners, Young, ever fearless in his endeavors, tackled synth music head on, gleefully embracing everything it had to offer.

So, yes, Trans is more concept than novelty, and boy does he throw himself into the role of Robo-Rocker. The aforementioned Computer Age bridges the gap between humanity and the digital, with great synths and super-catchy guitar riffs. And through vocoder effects, you can hear Neil’s apprehension of a synthetic future. Interestingly, only with the lyrics “And you need me; Like ugly needs a mirror” does his voice briefly return to normal. He’s accepted this future, and from here on the robots rule most of the album.

A couple of harder rockers follow. We R In Control plays on Orwellian fears, with a great combination of gritty guitar work and aggressive vocoder effects. Less effective is Computer Cowboy, as it isn’t nearly as catchy as the rest, and sounds far too muddy. It is funny though, in that Neil absolutely butchers cliché Spaghetti Western themes with the robotic surroundings; those clippity-clop sound effects are a hoot.

Offering a bit of yin between these two yangs is Transformer Man, a song about Neil’s son who was born with cerebral palsy. As pretty a piece of robo-pop as anything Kraftwerk made, this song also was part of Young’s inspiration to make an electronic album, as he could only communicate with his son through such technology. It’s a very touching song; even if Young’s synthesized voice is at times difficult to understand, the emotion that cuts through the effects is remarkable.

Sample And Hold is Trans’ ‘dance’ single. While no Blue Monday (really, how many songs are?), it’s still a mesmerizing piece of work. For one thing, at eight minutes in length with a relentless steady rhythm, Sample And Hold has a hypnotic quality that sucks you into a choking industrial setting. From sludgy guitars to dispassionate synths to mechanical percussion, this is a cold, unfeeling song, which given the subject matter makes sense. Delivered with frank yet aggressive vocoder tones, the track is about the impersonal service of finding love in an uncaring future (specifically, at an android dating service, if you interpret the lyrics literally). All this and Neil still managed to make an ultra-catchy hook. You’re guaranteed to be humming “I need a unit to sample and hold; New design; New design” long after this plays. Sadly, it bombed in the dance clubs and was quickly forgotten, but I suppose clubbers weren’t quite ready for it; even Gary Numan, who’s work this track bares the most semblance to, struggled in America. Had Sample And Hold been released a year after New Order’s seminal record rather than a year before, things might have been different.

The track can be exhausting on your psyche though, so it’s rather nice to hear a simpler song follow Sample And Hold. Kind of an electro remix of his old tune Mr. Soul, Young seems to be having a bit of tongue-in-cheek fun at those who would criticize Trans. Not only is he ‘butchering’ an old favorite but the lyrics fit the idea as well. Neil’s voice remains normal for this track, with vocoders harmonizing at various points.

That’s the electronic tracks out of the way. Do you want me to review the ‘normal’ songs, then? Do you even care? I guess I should touch on them, but fact is they weren’t really a part of Trans’ concept; story goes they were tracks for another album, but tagged on here to fill it out. It’d make sense to include some regular rockers or ballads to offer a thematic contrast to the robo-rock, but aside from Like An Inca, these tracks are just simple songs about love, and have nothing to do with the theme of Trans. Even Like An Inca, despite being a cautionary tale about the dangers of technology impeding on Mother Nature, is a far-fetched tie-in. Amusingly though, the incredibly weak 80s production on Hold On To Your Love actually works within Trans’ atmosphere, which is probably why it ended up lodged in the middle of all the other tracks.

The big question now is how much I should recommend this album. Despite all the synthy surroundings, Trans still is very much a rock album in spirit. Few people could see past the computer effects just because they were such a novelty in the early 80s. In the here and now though, such sounds are common, and we can enjoy it based on its musical merit rather than the dressing it comes in. Some electronic purists may despise it for the rock overtones, claiming Neil had no business dabbling in sounds he wasn’t known for, but they be fools. Bottom line is Neil created some incredibly catchy pieces of music that holds up in an age they make more sense in. But, and this is important, Trans isn’t by any means a great album, much less a classic. Even with some strong singles, there are weak moments as well, and if you come in only looking for the electronic tracks, the regular ones will be of little interest (even though a couple of them are alright). If you are only curious about it, I’d recommend downloading some of the better tracks to get a feeling for what you’ll expect to hear. Only pick this up at its regular price if your samplings intrigue you further.

Young’s electronic phase was merely a passing experiment, as he never went in this direction again. But, as with so many of his albums, he certainly created a stir with Trans, even if it caused unintended reactions from his fans. At sixty years of age now, it’s safe to say we’ll never see a Trans 2.0, although now that he has a growing fanbase that would actually understand the idea behind such an album, a sequel to this definitely strikes me as a fascinating possibility. And when it comes to Neil Young, you never know how he’ll surprise you next.

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