Various - Y9: Nine Years Of Psychonavigation Records

Psychonavigation Records: 2009

It's been nine years since this label released a 'nine years retrospective', and the tale of Psychonavigation Records has since been... colourful. At this point, the print's been reduced to little more than an outlet for Keith Downey's No Mask Effect albums, though they did finally release that Sea Biscuit reissue first announced over a year ago. Come to think of it, that's a tasty little ambient techno classic I wouldn't mind having. Bet I can find the Astralwerks version for a good price on Amazon these days...

As a label retrospective, Y9 is a curious item. Who celebrates nine years of business? No one, for no other reason than the Western world demarcates the passing years by powers of ten: decade, century, millennium, etc. Thus ten years of activity is a recognizable achievement, while nine years is not. Maybe that's unfair to nine, and really, any length of time maintaining a project beyond a couple years is an achievement of sorts, but there's this lingering sense that, if you could do it for nine years, why not push for that extra rep of ten? It's just over the horizon, one Gregorian calendar away. Did the Psychonavigation Records crew of 2009 not figure they'd make it to year ten for some reason? Simply wanted to buck the convention for the sake of quirkiness? Is there more significance to nine years than ten in Irish folklore?

Whatever you want to say about their business practices, few discount the musical talent Psychonavigation Records brought in over the years, and Y9 is as handy a showcase of that as any. It touches upon all the genres they dipped their fingers in, from the early jazzy trip-hop dabblings (Buckminster Fuzeboard's Local Tone, Aza & Eoin's Miles & Miles, P.P.Roy's Cop Theme) through the ambient and Boardsy nods (Gel-Sol's Your Day In The Sun, Enrico Coniglio W & J Theme, Seán Quinn's I'm Here (Twice), Ciaran Byrne's Curtain Moon).

And while acts like Roddy Monks and Eedl gave the label an early in with ambient techno (from which they'd almost exclusively continue promoting), back then Psychonavigation was commonly rubbing shoulders with shoegazey indie sorts like Soul Gun Warriors U-Mass and Tiny Magnetic Pets (I swear I've heard the tragic-twee pop of Spinning before). This stuff kinda' went overlooked as the label's lifespan carried on, but it does paint a picture of a print willing to take chances on just about anything flying under the radar. Heck, Rarely Seen Above Ground's Talk Back Crawl Back is some straight-up boppin' garage rock, featured on a double-LP outing called Organic Sampler, and primarily performed by one man, Jeremy Hickey. That's dope, yo'!

Of course, my musings on Y9 are irrelevant, as it doesn't appear available on any official outlets anymore, so odds are slim folks will find this CD. Some of the artists do have their own Bandcamp pages though, so if any of this music intrigues you, do 'em a solid and scope out those options.

Sense - A View From A Vulnerable Place

Neo Ouija/Psychonavigation Records: 2001/2016

I feel dirty having this. It looked innocent enough, a simple reissue by a label that seemed to have its heart in the right place. They’d exposed me to a number of ambient and downtempo producers I’d have otherwise overlooked, including one Adam Raisbeck as Sense. To have an actual hard-copy of his debut album A View From A Vulnerable Place, quite out of print at this point, where’s the harm in that?

Perhaps none, but as time passed following this reissue, more of the bad habits and questionable business tactics going on at Psychonavigation Records’ headquarters started coming to light. There were prior rumors and hushed whispers on the subject, but few wanted to believe an ambient print would ever engage in such shenanigans – close-knit community and all, right? Then things completely blew up over a potential Peter Benisch reissue (dude!), and now Psychonavigation Records has currently disappeared from the internet - website, Bandcamp and all. I don’t want to get further into it here because this is supposed to be a review for A View From A Vulnerable Place, but… yeah.

So, Sense’s debut album, released in 2001, on an early Lee Norris label, Neo Ouija. I honestly wasn’t expecting ambient techno of this sort – rather more straight-forward ambient, since most of my Sense exposure comes from his pure ambient works. The rhythms have a crisp, electro aesthetic I associate with Vector Lovers and Lorenzo Montanà at this point (first exposures and all), though with less of the robot love in the former, and not as much IDM glitch in the latter. Probably a better comparison is to Norris’ own work around the time as Metamatics, but I haven’t taken in enough of that yet to give a definitive confirmation (he’s got so much music to catch up on!). As this was originally released on his print though, it doesn’t surprise me he’d greenlight a debut from someone with a similar sound.

Sense doesn’t do much challenging with his beatcraft, for the most part offering simple IDM rhythms - he more than makes up for it in the melodic department though. It’s all about those feels, man, and the childlike whimsy one gets when viewing the world from a vulnerable place. Probably also where I get the Vector Lovers vibe on this album, though Sense explores such emotions in a broader context than Mr. Wheeler does. Whether with twee synths, spritely tones, or muted strings, Sense doesn’t mince tugging at your innocent sentiments. The only criticism I can levy here is his palette does run rather samey throughout the album, but at a tidy ten tracks long (with one twelve-minute cut near the end) offering brisk, uptempo numbers to chill, downtempo tracks, it doesn’t wear out either.

A View From A Vulnerable Place definitely deserves its ‘small classic’ status in ambient circles, and hopefully an honest reissue will come about down the road, as the original don't come cheap. Not that this one lasted long either.

Lorenzo Montanà - Vari Chromo

Psychonavigation Records: 2015

And now the conclusion of Lorenzo Montanà’s Trilogy on Psychonavigation Records. One. Year. Later. No, really, we last left off from Leema Hactus on May 17, 2016, and now we’re on May 19, 2017. I swear to God and all His subsidiaries that I did not plan for this remarkable cosmic coincidence; that we’d be at nearly the exact same spot in our solar orbit as the last review. In fact, I had no idea things had lined up like this until I went back through my previous Lorenzo writings for a quick refresher in his music. I feel like such an event should mean something, but my feeble man-ape brain can’t comprehend the significance of this fated alignment. Someone tell Hawking! Someone tell Tyson! Someone tell Daruwalla! Someone tell the Dalai Lama! And The Pope? Mm, nah, don’t bother telling him.

Scaling things back to what’s important, Vari Chromo (translated as ‘various colors’ …or ‘lemur colors’? Huh?) was Mr. Montanà’s third and final album with Psychonavigation. Since then he’s flirted with a few different prints (Carpe Sonum, …txt, Projekt), and squeezed in a couple collaborative efforts with Alio Die and Mick Chillage too, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. If you might recall, I noticed a pattern with his previous solo outings, where the quality of his LPs would alternate between “eh” and “AY!” As we’re now in his fifth album, this should be an “eh” then, right. Absolutely not! Perhaps it was that Carpe Sonum record between this and Leema Hactus that was the downturn LP. May have to dig further into this flimsy theory.

But nay, Vari Chromo is indeed Mr. Montanà’s sixth record, and another darn good one at that. He’s added a couple new items to his sonic palette, one of which being sporadic piano passages. I honestly don’t recall hearing him use the ol’ ivories in any previous album, though considering I’ve still yet to take in those Labyrinth albums with Pete Namlook, I may have simply missed them. Look, they’re darn expensive, what with being double-discs that include a 5.1 mixdown option, a hopelessly useless feature for yours truly as I remain stuck in renter’s purgatory (damn you, unaffordable Vancouver housing!).

As per most Lorenzo albums though, we get a nice assortment of ambient techno, crisp skittery beats, and charming melodies that’ll melt your heart. There’s a couple moodier numbers too (Spoot, Tek Kyah), but nothing too off the beaten path. Vari Chromo also finds Mr. Montanà indulging outside his comfort zone, Hy-Brazil worming a little Latin rhythm into his click-glitch beats, Green Room feeling the ethereal flow, and Anya taking on the modern classical stylee for good measure. Then just to show off, Lorenzo drops a twelve-minute long space ambient cut, with cosmic pads, subtle acid burbling, and all that good, vintage Fax+ vibe old-schoolers will never tire of (*cough*). Is it too much that I demand collaboration with Carbon Based Lifeforms after hearing this?

Lingua Lustra - Uhadi

Psychonavigation Records: 2015

Albert Borkent has been releasing music as Lingua Lustra for over a decade now, but started really cranking the releases out after the ‘10s took form. Guess that partnership with Databloem helped fuel the ol’ creative synapses just fine, to say nothing of the near twenty assorted digital EPs he spit out under his co-owned print Spiritech (Alireza Zaifnejad; aka. Blue Bliss also handles the print). In the meanwhile, he’s put out a few albums on assorted labels like Anodize, Lagerstätte, earthMantra, Bakshish Music, Electronic Soundscapes Records under his Sol Tek side-project (guess what music they release!), and finally Psychonavigation Records. And yes, I’d never have stumbled upon Mr. Borkent’s material had it not been for that discount haul on the part of the Ireland print, but oh is there so much tempting Lingua material to trawl through now.

That’s for another time though. For now, I’m left with yet another predicament of taking on yet another artist for the first time with yet another hefty discography I’ve nary the time to fully immerse myself in. I’m just gonna’ have to take Lord Discogs’ word that most of the Lingua Lustra stylee consists of similar ambient and drone soundscapes as I’m hearing on Uhadi, though clearly with less uhadi involved. And what is an uhadi, pray tell? Why, it’s that charming musical bow you heard on Leftfield’s Afro-Left, though that was the Brazilian version of the instrument (berimbau), whereas an uhadi is the original South African contraption.

It’s also a titular cut on this album, and most definitely the centerpiece clocking in just a shade under thirty minutes in length. What’s strange is there’s very little use of the instrument in that runtime, at least in any traditional sense that I can hear. Plenty of field recordings though, including passing airplanes and bird song, plus lengthy passages of pleasant synth pad and drone. Some mild tapping of an uhadi does emerge in short order, providing a minor rhythmic backbone to the track, but gradually fades out by the ten-minute mark. It comes back for around five minutes near the end, then the track completely changes course into something darker and dubbier. I should also mention I’m only assuming the gentle tapping is an uhadi. Doesn’t make sense to name a track like that without making some use of the instrument.

It’s a nifty piece of music all said, though clearly for ambient-lovers only. Frankly, I was more intrigued by the opening thirteen-minute piece Rise, what with its ultra-dubby groove, night forest field recordings, and lazy, hazy cascading bell tones – reminds me of something I’d hear out of the Silent Season camps. A few ‘shorter’ cuts round Uhadi out, including trip-hopper More Than Words Can Say, a tune that wouldn’t sound out of place on an older Shadow Records CD. Siren gets more experimental in the trip-hop vein, and closer Run brings the lowdown beatcraft into proper murk as foreboding strings play out. Holy cow, this really is Shadow Records revisited!

No Mask Effect - Quick Smart

Psychonavigation Records: 2016

It was a long time coming, about fifteen years before it came to fruition. Some said it could never happen, the odds just too against all conventional wisdom. The effort it would take, the soul-searching undertook, making sure the event was justified and earned. That it wouldn’t be some flight of fancy spurred on by nagging sense of unfinished business, but the culmination of years – nay, decades!(ish) - of plucky perseverance, vile guile, and steadfast conviction that this day would come. Yes indeed, folks, my collection of Albums starting with the letter ‘Q’ has finally doubled to a whopping two whole releases, No Mask Effect’s Quick Smart joining the lonely domain Jurrasic 5’s Quality Control lorded over for so long. Oh, and Keith Downey, label head of Psychonavigation Records, also makes his producer debut with this album too. Woo!

Okay, I can’t claim I intended to get Quick Smart for that reason alone. Come to think of it, I didn’t plan on getting it at all. The bizarre Ambelion reissue of Trance ExperienceI did though, and when I ordered a copy for myself, No Mask Effect’s album showed up instead. Uh huh… Well, maybe this could turn out intriguing too. Keith Downey’s been label running for over fifteen years, hearing plenty of musicians in that time from various facets of ambient, downtempo, IDM, and shoegaze. What sort of sounds would he incorporate into his own works? Blissy ambient drone? Groovy chill techno? Effects-drenched guitar jam wank? Yet another Boards Of Canada ‘homage’?

Nah, none of that – well, a little of the first. Mostly though, Quick Smart is a field recordings album, musicality almost nonexistent beyond some abstract pad noodling. Opener Downtown makes use of eerie tones as sounds of passing vehicles, chirping birds, rumbling motors, and brief bits of distant dialog overwhelm your ears. It honestly sounds like Mr. Downey took a microphone stroll through a park beside a highway rather than a major urban centre, creating a weird disconnect between soothing calm and jittery unease. Sense sounds more like bustling downtown, what with noisy crowds and vehicle activity, all the while an unrelated tribal rhythm percolates underneath. And will someone answer that damn phone, fer gads’ sake! Fourth track Grass is practically a white-noise assault with the cacophony of field recordings in play, the only thing musical here being some buried bits of… Beethoven, I think?

Really, the only track on here worth a look-listen is third cut Transfer Of Deed, Pt. 1 & 2, and at over twenty-one minutes in length, I’m sure ol’ Keith intended it as such. The first half features some rather pleasant ambient pad work before all d’em field recordings enter the fray, while the second part goes for a more throbbing approach to the craft. At least this piece is carried by actual music, though rather muddied and minimalistic. And if I’m in the mood for that, I’d sooner plop on Andrew Heath again. He’s at least subtle with his field recordings.

Lorenzo Montanà - Leema Hactus

Psychonavigation Records: 2014

Part two of Lorenzo Montanà’s trilogy on Psychonavigation Records, all released within a three years span of each other. As if that wasn’t enough, he put out another album on Carpe Sonum Records the same year this came out, to say nothing of two additional 2015 LPs alongside the final chapter of Trilogy, Vari Chromo. Does this guy just keep stockpiling music all the live long day? And have I already rhetorically asked this question in a previous review? Feels like I have, but I’m too lazy to hop in my time machine and ask January 2016 Sykonee if he’s written a similar query in Black Ivy or Serpe. In any case, we’re definitely getting a right-proper crash course in Mr. Montanà’s music these past few months.

If you’ve been following these Lorenzo reviews since the beginning, you might have noticed a pattern emerge in the quality of albums. Black Ivy was interesting, but unfocused, while Serpe was a splendid improvement. Eilatix, however, felt like a step back, so that must mean Leema Hactus springs back with the goods, right? Yeah, it does, but come on; you can’t seriously buy this line of logic? It’s too small a sample size to form any accurate model, and I’d be rightfully roasted by crusading statisticians on social media for peddling such pseudo analytics in the form of a music review. Whoops, getting sidetracked as always!

Leema Hactus is another great album from Mr. Montanà, taking the dynamic songcraft shown in Serpe and expanding upon it even further. There’s ample ambient techno, dubby pad work, clicky-glitch rhythms ranging from brisk tempos to subdued chillers, and gentle-sweet melodies throughout, some of which are among the best I’ve heard from Lorenzo. Greenlift will utterly melt your heart, I tell you what; like hearing a melancholy fairy lullaby as fireflies dance in twilight.

Most of Leema Hactus has an undercurrent of gardens, what with tracks titles like Conflict Garden, Emerald, Hynogreen, Greenlift, and Dew Flow. The cover art doesn’t hurt in selling that notion either, though I do wonder what the album’s title means. I searched about the Googles for it, and very little came up. ‘Leema’ is apparently a lady’s name, kind of like how Peru’s capital, Lima, is a name. ‘Hactus’ may be a name as well, but when Mr. Montanà’s album eats up the first twenty search returns, I’ve very little to go on. One day, maybe I’ll try that ‘journalist’ thing of asking the producers questions for my answers. Conjecture though, it’s much funner.

Anything else? There’s a dubstep track in here, the track Dew Flow. Well, one of those half-step breaks that the genre abused, to the point you can’t help but expect a horrible wub-wub accompanying it. Lorenzo don’t do that though, instead serving up gracious, delicate melodies as he’s wont to do in this album. Chillstep, you say? No it’s, um, ambient techno, with a fresh rhythm to your standard trip-hop steps. Yeah, that’ll do.

Lorenzo Montanà - Eilatix

Psychonavigation Records: 2013/2015

Mr. Montanà was pretty set with Fax +49-69/450464: a couple of albums, nearly a half-dozen collaborations with label head Pete Namlook. Guy could probably have rode his entire career with the seminal print had it not been for Mr. Kuhlmann’s unfortunate untimely death. With no other choice but to shutter their doors, Fax+’s closing left ol’ Lorenzo temporarily homeless. There were undoubtedly several options and opportunities for the Italian producer to find another label, but perhaps he sensed proper kinship with this plucky, off-the-radar print out of Dublin, Ireland. One that took direct inspiration from Namlook’s work in their chosen name, and even had a fondness for the Fax+ sounds of old, often leaning retro with their ambient techno. Besides, it’d be another year before the true Fax +49-69/450464 successors launched (Carpe Sonum Records). May as well make a bed with these Psychonavigation guys, see how things turn out.

None too shabby, now three albums deep for Keith Downey’s print. They must have been more popular than anticipated too, what with only being released as limited CDr and all. Like, I know Mr. Montanà came from Fax+, but that doesn’t mean you must honor Namlook’s strict limitation runs as well. Right, small label, CDs aren’t as popular, etc. Fortunately there was enough interest in Lorenzo’s earlier contributions to Psychonavigation that a reissue was inevitable. And wouldn’t you know it, Mr. Montanà had just released his third LP for the label, so why not bundle them all together for a spiffy 3CD pack titled Trilogy? Making things simple for all the new comers and late adopters, now don’t it? (*cough*)

Eilatix was the first of these albums, and just so happens to be first alphabetically too. Don’t you just love it when things coincidentally align as the planets and stars do on a cool summer eve? No, this simile is applicable, because the music within is very brisk and chill, minimal ambient acid and dub techno for nights out under a full moon, lounging in a lawn chair huddled within a dew-speckled blanket, the sparkle of distant suns glimmering in your eyes. Wow, did I get carried away with this descriptor. Eilatix isn’t that evocative.

The album was billed as a follow-up to Lorenzo’s work with Namlook, so I’m assuming its referencing the Labyrinth series, which I’ve never heard. However, without that frame of reference, I actually came into Eilatix figuring this a follow-up to Mr. Montanà’s solo work on Fax+, Serpe, and I cannot deny some feelings of disappointment. There was a significant leap in crafstmanship between his first two albums, while this feels like a regression of sorts, less about pushing his boundaries in favor of a simple, modest album, ears fixated on the era of early Apollo and HIA. It works in that regard, but man, just when things are warming up and getting good, Eilatix ends, Temporary Light a big tease to what could have been. Still, quite pleasant as background music. Play it during your stargazing ventures.

Mick Chillage - Tales From The Igloo Re-Told

Psychonavigation Records: 2014

While Oliver Lieb's Inside Voices introduced me to Psychonavigation Records, this was the album that got me digging further into the Dublin print's discography, though almost entirely by chance. If I’d sought out Inside Voices through my usual Amazon means, the Bandcamp option would never had exposed me to the rest of Psychonavigation’s recent catalogue. Doing a casual glance-over, I noticed a curiously cartoony looking item among the more credible pieces of cover art, sticking out like an ice-encrusted thumb. Despite never hearing the name Mick Chillage before, I dug a bit further into this oddball snowball of a CD called Tales From The Igloo Re-Told. Ah, a remix album then, with rubs from names like Gel-Sol, Lorenzo Montanà, Peter Benisch, Dialog, the New Composers... *record scratch*.

Waitwaitwait...! The Peter Benisch? That dude who made wonderful music at the turn of the century, then practically disappeared from Earth? What’s he doing on such an innocuous CD? Is this just a one-shot, some sort of curried favour for the label? Is this Mick Chillage guy a bigger deal than I could have thought? And what of the album-proper of Tales From The Igloo? Is it some masterstroke of modern chill-out music to have lured in so many highly respected names within this scene? I mean, Peter Benisch ain’t the only old-schooler on this remix project. David Morley’s here! Dr. Atmo’s here! Scanner’s here! Man, it didn’t matter that I’d never heard the original album, thus having absolutely no frame of reference for these ‘retold’ings – I had to get this just to hear what these chaps have been up to! Maybe discover a couple additional names in the process (that Gel-Sol, why he so familiar?).

My epic odyssey through Psychonavigation Records’ archives these past couple months have answered many of these questions. Without this CD enticing me though, there likely would never have been the label splurge, much less hundreds of words on my part chronicling all this music from the Dublin print. Well, maybe a few, just based on general consensus of essential albums from Psychonavigation.Tales From The Igloo-Prime was likely an eventuality - it does come highly recommended from most discerning ambient heads, after all.

Even without hearing the original album, Re-Told holds strong on its own merits. Mr. Chillage’s original compositions were already unfussy, so it isn’t much for our clutch of remixers to apply their own styles to the minute melodies Mick crafted. Morley, Montana, and New Composure do their ambient techno thing, while Benisch, Scanner, and Sense opt for something more on the widescreen tip. Dialog goes for a dubbier outing, Gel-Sol offers something abstract, and Dr. Atmo has old-school ambient house clear in his sights. Oh, and Mick indulges his full Biosphere on a lengthier rub on Hypothermia. All this diversity actually makes Tales From The Igloo Retold a stronger LP than the original album, though obviously defeats the simplistic charm Chillage had going on his debut. A yin-yang deal we got going here, then.

Mick Chillage - Tales From The Igloo

Psychonavigation Records: 2009

It took a while, but with Mick Chillage's debut album Tales From The Igloo, Psychonavigation Records could finally claim to have a bonafide hit on their hands. Well, about as a much of a hit a micro-niche scene such as throwback ambient techno could ever achieve, but it’s something. Prior to Tales, the Dublin print had remained quite underground and relatively unnoticed, mostly giving folks with close ties to the local scene their promotion. This was technically also the case with Mick Chillage, Mr. Gainford spending much of his early career as a radio DJ on Dublin’s XFM. Though he never released anything official, The Chillaged One did while those years producing an assortment of techno, downtempo, and ambient items that were probably never intended for more than nearby playouts.

For all intents, having a fruitful career in LPs wasn’t high on his mind, but that Keith Downey boy, he never met a fellow Irishman that he couldn’t woo to his label. One successful album later, and not only was Mick Chillage off and shopping to several like-minded labels, but Psychonavigation Records also started drawing in other established artists to their print as well, growing their profile in the process. Or it was all just one big coincidence things turned out like this.

At first glance, Tales From The Igloo doesn’t come off as anything terribly unique or remarkable. It’s a vintage ambient techno album released at a time when ambient techno was continuously distancing itself from its past. Much of the old guard of that scene had long moved onto other music, or simply retreated into seclusion. Though always pointing to the seminal works put out by Warp, Apollo, and Fax+ as a source of inspiration, the new cats preferred pushing the genre into the realms of dub techno and clicky glitch. If there was a market for old-school leaning ambient techno, it was buried deep in glacial stasis, waiting to be thawed out when fondness for such retro sounds could flourish again. Tales From The Igloo seems to have been the tipping point that started the thaw, Mick Chillage uncompromising in crafting simple, elegant pieces that had folks namedropping ancient Biosphere, HIA, and Aphex Twin in association.

Even within the limited palette Chillage utilizes, he offers a nice array of tunes. There’s soft, brisk techno (Dubmarine, Melting Emotion, Floating In Hyperspace, Northern Lights, Precinct 14), moody Nordic ambient numbers (Hypothermia, Disturbed Earth, eleven-minute long Gateway Station), a couple tunes that meet midpoint between the two (Hidden Landscape, Rotation), and the requisite curious outlier in Under The Ice, a track with rather abrasive beats considering the surrounding music.

Another quibble with this album is the wonky track sequencing, most of the beatless, chill material lodged in the middle rather than the more sensible bookends of the LP. I often find myself drifting off midway through because of this, forgetting there’s some decent uptempo tunes towards the end. Not quibble enough, however, to not recommend Tales From The Igloo.

ACE TRACKS: February 2016

Oh my God, did February ever suck. Okay, there was that kick-ass Deadpool movie in there, plus d’em Golden State Warriors continue to astound in ways I never thought possible with NBA caliber basketball before, but in terms of getting significant work done with this blog, ugh what a slog. Never before have I been afflicted with flu aches/dizzying fever/curse of Cthulu symptoms like that, and I pray I never do again. That said, I did accomplish a couple things, one of which being an obvious fresh coat of template-paint here, hopefully making things a little easier on the eyes now. Also, I’ve added a couple Pages to the side-bar, one to keep all past and future ACE TRACKS playlists in an easy-access point, plus a FAQ for anyone still not up to speed on what this blog’s all about.

My main goal though (and thus far failure), is organize that gargantuan cloud of labels into something resembling a glossary or table of contents. Give folks easier navigation through the insurmountable back-catalog of reviews that’s accumulated, y’know? I’ve yet to find an easy fix for this though, and I’ve been told nothing short of a complete, ground-up redesign would accomplish what I want. *sigh* Am I gonna’ have to learn to actual code now, and not rely on templates? How was I to know things would get so big?


Full track list here.

MISSING ALBUMS:
Various - Summer
Various - Simulus
Ciaran Byrne - Nine Lives Causeway
Various - Montreal Mix Sessions Vol. 5 - Tiga: Mixed Emotions

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 0%
Percentage of Rock: 0%
Most “WTF?” Track: Nothing at all.

Hope y’all dig the Psychonavigation Records love-in here, as that’s practically the entirety of this playlist. Even the few albums outside the Dublin print mostly fall within a similar style of music. Thank God for Tiga bringing a tiny bit of variety here, but I thank God for Tiga about many things regardless. I'm kinda’ surprised this playlist’s as long as it is too – felt like I got through barely anything this past month, but at least this bulk of alphabetical backlog is finally caught up with. Finally get to move onto a brand new letter, with fresh genres and fresh labels! …including two more Psychonavigation CDs, and a Carpe Sonum CD within the first week.

*sigh* Y’know, I think I'm actually starting to look forward to that eventual review of Live's Throwing Copper.

Seán Quinn - Skylines

Psychonavigation Records: 2002

You know you always get the clean, uncut sparkling varnished honesty from me, right? Sure you do, that’s why you’re always coming back here. I think. That whole ‘consistent new reviews’ also may have something to do with it. I’d imagine my thoughts on music have garnered some small repute at this stage too. Maybe it’s just to indulge in this ‘gimmick’ o’ mine, to see what item alphabetically pops up next in my mad quest to listen to everything I have. Gotta’ admit that’s why I keep hoping Sarah O’Holla returns to her similar endeavor at My Husband’s Stupid Record Collection, genuine curiosity over whether some obscure 1982 post no-wave punk 7” might crop up next, or one of the big guns I love reading other people’s opinions on (so long to go before Neil Young …so very long). Wait, I’ve gone way off topic here. Darn feverish state of mind - will this flu ever let up?

Here’s the truthiful proclamation I was trying to get at: initial impressions of a lot o’ these Psychonavigation Records records kinda’ bled altogether into one fuzzy-photo of cover art. I get that it’s a visual aesthetic the label cultivated for itself (because Boards), but when one binge-buys a back-catalog as I did, it makes distinguishing between CDs difficult, especially when dealing with almost entirely new names. There’s little chance at taking each in on their own merits, digesting their nuances before moving onto the next in the pile in some slim hopes a crash session can give you some lasting impressions. I couldn’t tell the Seán Quinns from the Ciaran Byrnes, the Skylines from the Picnics With Pylons, the Boards Of Canada sounding tunes from the other Boards Of Canada sounding tunes. Getting down to write a review of each these CDs definitely helped me in distinguishing between them, if nothing else for discovering more info behind the artists involved.

For instance, Seán Quinn was yet another big ol’ blank when I first got this CD, and remained as such despite listening to it a couple times, the music getting lost among all the other Psychonavigation material I drowned myself in. Turns out though, he’s done little solo LPing anyway, this and a recent Audiobiography his only albums. On the other hand, Lord Discogs tells me he’s part of the electro-pop duo Tiny Magnetic Pets (who’d also released on Psychonavigation), which I feel I should know from somewhere, but could be getting mixed up with a similar sounding band (ergh, it’s buggin’ me!).

Another reason Skylines had trouble sinking in is it’s all over the place. There are skitzy beats, abstract ambient, twee pop, mellow Boards nods (of course), and not much linking it together. Imbrium is the sort of grand space ambient I’d expect out of Ultimae, while Yellow Magnetic wants to have its orchestral breakcore and eat DJ Food too. Wait, what? Okay, the fever’s setting in again. Better wrap this up now.

Various - Simulus

Psychonavigation Records: 2002

We’re going way back in Psychonavigation’s history with this one, folks. Back to the time before they earned much rep’ outside their native Dublin. Before the change when they focused primarily on artist albums. The years when their chief output was the compilation. An era where vinyl was still on their market! The age after the oceans drank Atlantis and before the rise of the sons of Aryas; the days of high adventure! No, wait, that's too far. Pretty sure this label's of a more recent era than when Conan The Barbarian was lopping heads aplenty. The beginning of Americanaland’s end, yeah, that'll do.

Having taken in all these Psychonavigation albums now, I feel I’ve gotten a decent bead on who’s their main acts, who’s their outside contributors, and so on. I look at the track list for Simulus though, and I’m drawing a blank on nearly everyone here. Move D shows up, taking some time away from his hundred-zillionth session with Pete Namlook to provide a jazzy, smoky, blues-hop number in Downtime. A few other names on Simulus have a decent amount of Discogian presence. The Rip-Off Artist released some eight LPs in a very short amount of time in the early ‘00s, with the man behind the name, Matt Haines, working with about a half-dozen other aliases before and since too. A couple others, like The Last Sound and EU, have continued releasing material to this day, though on various different labels than Psychonavigation. Names like Matthew Devereux and Manta even got albums out on this print shortly after. Mostly though, we’re dealing with artists that had a few items out around the time this compilation was released, and promptly disappeared shortly after from all Lord Discogs’ records. Except for Undermine, I have no idea what their story is, the Discogian link directing me to an American hardcore punk band from the early ‘90s. Psychonavigation’s done a few dalliances in its genre explorations, but I’m pretty darn sure Keith Downey’s never been tempted to go that route.

Instead, Simulus is another CD that supports my association of Psychonavigation with Shadow Records, in that this is one seriously trip-hoppin’ collection of tunes. For sure we get a few glitch IDM cuts too, such as Mantra’s click-n-bass Endent, The Rip-Off Artist’s bleep-hop Thief Of Hearts, and The Last Sound’s neurofunky Life Flashes, though that’s served as a specific segment showcasing such sounds. In fact, Simulus is separated into four such distinct parts, each with a brief intermission called Got That? marking the transition. Makes more sense for the vinyl version I guess, but it’s cool to hear some concept being applied to a compilation regardless.

Mostly though, the tunes on Simulus do that turn of the century trip-hop thing a lot of labels were doing in Ninja Tune’s wake, with spicy splashes of other genres for good measure - breaks in The Turner Experience from Dan Warren, ambient techno in Winter from EU. An interesting CD, all said.

Lorenzo Montanà - Serpe

Fax +49-69/450464/Psychonavigation Records: 2011/2015

Somewhere during all those Labyrinth session with Pete Namlook, Lorenzo Montanà found the time to release a second solo effort on Fax +49-69/450464 called Serpe. With but a two year turnaround from his previous debut of Black Ivy, not to mention the six full-lengths released in the past three years, I'm getting the feeling ol' Lorenzo's one of those 'studio sluts'. You know the sort, spending endless days and nights huddled behind consoles and computers, synths and hardware, plus a few assorted 'real' instruments like guitars or glockenspiels. But hey, sometimes you just feel that creative pulse, propelling you from project to project in perpetuity. Though let’s not get ahead of ourselves; Mr. Montanà’s not any sort of Merzbow type. He, y’know, actually makes albums with a consistent theme to them, and all.

Yeah, I mentioned a problem with his first one was that it was missing that key ‘album’ flow, that it came off as little more than a collection of nicely produced, unconnected tracks. That point still stands (it’s only been a month since I made it), but that time spent jamming away in labyrinths with The Namlookian One must have helped refine Lorenzo’s craft, as Serpe is a marked improvement over Black Ivy. For one thing, there’s an actual theme to this album, each track title the name of a different sort of snake from the world abroad. I suppose Black Ivy had a loose plant theme going for it too, but much like the music on that LP, it wasn’t consistent.

Consistency, yes, that’s what Serpe’s got going for it. Every track maintains a running tone throughout, of moody, mysterious ambient techno with splashes of clicky glitch. While by no means an unique assortment of sounds at his disposal, Mr. Montanà comes off most comfortable working within this template, giving him the more freedom to write music fitting this concept than concern himself with technical aspects. I mean, the titualar opener sounds like an actual opener, an atmospheric little number with a stirring synth refrain and soft percussion nestled under washed-out white noise field effects, treated guitar plucking riffing off it for a brief portion before giving way to distant explosions. I’m not sure what this has to do with snakes, exactly, but tickle me intrigued for what comes next.

From there Serpe does the easy-cool build as most solid albums do. The next few tracks stick to the downtempo side of things, a groovy little number in Elaps Harlequin followed by a spritely chill piece in Dugite, while Mamushi features another lovely subdued melody within its stark dub ambient realm. As per course, the second half of Serpe ups the tempo some, Agkistrodon getting almost downright trance at points, though ol’ Lorenzo sure doesn’t hold back his fondness for the skittery side of IDM rhythms in Elaphe and Habu. Final two tracks Acrochordidae and Demansia go wide-screen in their production, and I’m left wondering how Mr. Montanà hasn’t ended up on Ultimae yet.

Sense - Selected Moments, Vol. 1

Psychonavigation Records: 2013

Have I reached ‘peak ambient’ yet? Like, taken in so much of the stuff now that I’m micromanaging every tiny variation of it into compartmentalized sub-sub genres? Where Layered Drone is a totally different thing from Singular Drone, and the length between held piano notes drastically separates pieces into wholly uncompromiseable BPM brackets. For sure I can tell what constitutes Space Ambient, but should it be further splintered into Cosmic Ambient, Interstellar Ambient, Black Cold Ambient, Gravitational Waves Ambient, and even Quantum Ambient (that’s some proper ‘lowercase’ shit right there, mang!). For sure I can differentiate between inner headspace forms like Meditation Ambient (mostly synths and bell tones) and New Age Ambient (stupid, silly flutes or angel choirs), and now I feel there’s more unique branches I’m dubbing Melancholic Ambient, and Morning-After Ambient, not to mention Dawn Ambient (don’t confuse it with Solar Ambient, which is a Space Ambient thing). But wait, there’s also the Dark Ambient scene too, with so many variations and permutations, you could write a Tale Of The Old Ones anthology detailing it all (Gothic! Winter! Feral! Space! …yes, that again).

The reason for spending nearly two-hundred got’dang words describing all the ambient you can handle is because I know – just know! – you’re feeling a curious emptiness with the title of this album I’m supposed to be reviewing. You want to say it, your brain is tricking you into reading it, but reality does not deceive: this CD is called Selected Moments, Vol. 1, not Selected [Ambient] Works/Moments, Vol. 2 as your eyes so desperately wants to make it. Oh, it’s most definitely an ambient album, nary a beat found within the eight tracks comprising this LP. There’s nothing really connecting these compositions beyond their general stylistic songcraft either, so for all intents this is just a volume of selected ambient works. I suspect, however, that Adam Raisbeck had the good sense to not go with such an obvious cribbing of that other very famous selection of ambient works, practical though such a title would be.

Mr. Raisbeck is something of a folk hero to the new school of dedicated ambient followers, his debut album A View From A Vulnerable Place regarded as one of the scene’s definitive classics of the modern era. Floating from label to label as many producers in this realm do, he’s found a recent home with Psychonavigation Records, making his first impression on the Dublin print with this album. It’s a lovely little collection of ambient tunes, a bit rather in the classic Eno mold, though with more musicality going on than those early works. Some calmly float along lengthy soft synths (Heading Take 1, View From The Peephole, Less Than Perfect), others make use of simple charming melodies (36 4s (Mix 14), 3songs), and Praise (Full) melts my heart to utter pud’gin. Selected Moments, Vol. 1 presents itself as typical as most ambient collections go, but dang in this Sense chap doesn’t make you yearn for more.

Krill.Minima - Sekundenschlaf

Psychonavigation Records: 2013

See, folks, Psychonavigation Records isn’t just a big ol’ ‘90s love-in. This here Krill.Minima, he’s doing the abstract dub techno thing for this here album Sekundenschlaf, a genre that’s gained more prominence in this here millennium compared to that older time of two decades past. True, all these echoing chords, clicky percussion, and static textures is the sound that Mille Pleateux built its foundations on as the Clinton (One) Years ended, but it was the following Bush (Two) Years that it became all trendy, cool, and oft emulated. So, y’know, an ‘00s sound, not a ‘90s sound. What do you mean this is a stretch? I’m trying not to play into the cliché, I really am!

The music on here may be the sort more commonly found on Echospace, but the man behind the alias, Martin Juhls, typically makes tunes that fit the Psychonavigation mold. Releasing EPs and LPs since 2003, there’s more ambient pad work complementing all the clicky dub production, nods to older IDM and ambient techno that Keith Downey can’t seem to get enough of. More so is the Marsen Jules ‘alias’, where a lot of modern classical compositions meet layered drone work, and is apparently the more popular of the two. Well, about as popular as this sort of music goes, but Mr. Juhls seems to have spent far more time with this latter alias than with Krill.Minima. In fact, it’d been in relative hiatus for half a decade before being resurrected for Psychonavigation. Though according to Lord Discogs, a similar gap exists for Marsen Jules output too. Huh, whatever happened during that time at the turn of our current decade? I wonder… wonder… wonder…

*cue scene of black and white cartoon farm animals dancing in 1931 short*

Erm, sorry, my head’s been all sorts of distracted lately.

So Sekundenschlaf is a dub techno album, though really more of a ‘dub techno’ downtempo album. Only a couple tracks have a real techno pulse to them (Monddiode, Kronen Dab), while others favor the path of broken-beat groove (Von Angesicht zu Angesicht, Montreal > Dortmund, Serpentine). That is when the Krill’d One bothers with recognizable rhythms at all, some tracks muting beats down to clicks’n’cuts abstraction (Bienenkorb, Unter Druck), or foregoing them completely. Mamor (Dedub) goes as far deep into dub production as one can get while retaining some semblance of song structure, Kalypso makes use of melancholic tones echoing into the infinite, Nachtigal has that vintage Berlin-School modulation going for it, and ten-minute long closer Timbre is all wall-of-sound layered drone as you might find in Wolfang Voigt’s Gas works. Through all of this, plenty of white noise and static fills the sonic seams. So much white noise and static. Makes for a rather sterile listen at times, but Mr. Juhls knows his way around dub enough that there’s never a lack of warmth either.

If you’re curious to what a different label might offer in the realm of dub techno, give Sekundenschalf a try.

Imploded View - Picnics With Pylons

Psychonavigation Records: 2012

Another day, another ultra-obscure Irish producer with an album on Psychonavigation Records. How obscure this time? Lord Discogs has nadda’ on Imploded View. No real name for the alias, no brief words regarding what the project’s about, not even a bloomin’ photo for the man. There are links to his Facebook, Twitter, and Bandcamp though, but you’ll find even less helpful background on the chap, one of the blurbs proudly proclaiming “Reluctantly/Happily testing the bounds of obscurity.” Hell, the only reason I have any notion that Imploded View is a dude is the inlay of this digipak has a picture of someone in silhouette that appears to be male. Not that it confirms anything, as any sex can rock the ‘short hair, oval head, high collar’ look. However, when someone refers to Imploded View as ‘Jerome’ on the Twoism.org forums, I’m gonna’ go with my hunch that it’s a He we’re dealing with. Only the finest journalistic sleuthing on this blog, yo’!

If the purposeful enigmatic persona, faded photographic cover art, and Twoism.org association weren’t clues enough, Imploded View is also another Psychonavigation Records artist that’s feeling the Boards of Canada vibe. Fortunately, it’s not quite as blatant as Ciaran Byrne’s Nine Lives Causeway was, the music here sounding distinct enough that you wouldn’t mistake it for a long-lost tape from the Scottish duo. For instance, the track Boring Robot has a way-laidback groove coupled with childlike charm and snippets of unintelligible voices – sounds like BoC’s Roygbiv, don’t it? Mr. View, however, adds a thick layer of morning-glow pad, as strained a metaphor as any I can come up with, but oddly apt. It’s like, Roygbiv is the track you hear before you head out on the night, and Boring Robot is the hazy recollection of that track come dawn.

That’s what listening to Picnics With Pylons is like, hearing tunes that vaguely remind you of Boards Of Canada, but through the murk of many years later. Which makes total sense considering the undeniable impact BoC’s had on producers fancying nostalgic downtempo analog jams. Not to be left out of the memory-fuzz stylee, a couple of these have that desolate, urban squalor Burial made his namesake too (Astral Airways, Snowflake Bentley). Others find their own, quirky path without any immediate signifiers, like the crisp beatcraft of Across the Snow, or the cinematic flourishes of trip-hoppin’ We Ivy. Or my limited experience in the field of ‘obvious Boards Of Canada musicks is obvious’ has left a gap in recognizing other notable names I should be droppin’.

Whether this makes Imploded View different enough for you to check out Picnics With Pylons out, that’s all up to you. Yeah, not the most winning endorsement there, and despite the unique things I’ve detailed, this LP’s ultimately still just another collection of modestly interesting downtempo music from Psychonavigation Records. ‘Jerome’ can craft some pleasant, quirky little numbers here, but as an album, this is but a bit of ephemeral fluff. Yes, fancy simile score!

Ciaran Byrne - Nine Lives Causeway

Psychonavigation Records: 2008

I recently wrote it’s not such a bad thing finding influence and inspiration from other prominent electronic music groups and artists, especially those from the ‘90s. Hell, it’s such an oft repeated refrain on this blog that it could almost be a secondary by-line. “Enjoying The Past, So Long As It Still Sounds Like The Future.” I’m sure Simon Reynolds has copiously espoused (whee, fancy words!) on this topic, getting lost in retro naval gazing to the detriment of what’s potentially current and new, and it’s a fair point. However, I contend electronic music, in theory, has such a diverse palette and near-limitless resource to draw from, that all it takes is a little creative ingenuity to find a unique spin on a tried-and-true sound. Acid house may have an incredibly base foundation, but no two producers will tweak those 303 knobs the same. It almost seems more difficult to actively copy another track sound for sound than to fiddle with the template in your own fashion. So imagine my surprise in hearing Nine Lives Causeway from Ciaran Byrne, an album mimicking Boards Of Canada so exactly, you’d think it was the Scottish duo hiding under a pseudonym.

Mr. Byrne certainly isn’t the first or last to take on the lo-fi leftfield nostalgic trip-hop BoC stylee. Dan Snaith’s early Manitoba work comes to mind as an obvious comparison, and I’ve no doubt plenty more ultra-obscure producers have dabbled in crackly analog gear for a post-clubbing generation. This album though… I mean, seriously, c’mon, mang! This sounds more Boards Of Canada than Boards Of Canada sounded on Geogaddi. I’ve little doubt I could play this to any casual fan under the assumption it was another unearthed Boards Of Canada artifact, and they’d wholly fall for it. But this isn’t Boards Of Canada.

This is Ciaran Byrne, or Ross Adey to the Dublin Detachment. He’s released a couple albums through Psychonavigation Records, and contributed to the One On Twoism compilations, a series by Twoism Records, featuring music from the Twoism Forum. Even without sampling them, I’ve a very strong notion of the sort of music on those CDs, Boards Of Canada love running deep in the online world. Not to mention ongoing, that series active to this day. Not so much Mr. Adey though, his Discogian info drying up after this album.

Everything about Nine Lives Causeway screams Boards Of Canada. Tracks like Moving Sungold, Catriona’s Liquid Hourglass, Circular Bruno, and Axiom tap the playful side of their sound, whereas Dustbeam and Ode To Able Sail go more reflective with low-slung beatcraft. Meanwhile, fuzzy ambient abstractions like They Won’t Find You Here, Pyrite Eventide, and Blue Gaze wrap the listener up like a childhood comforter blanket. Yep, that’s some Boards action right there.

Still, we’ve a fine little album here if you don’t mind having more Boards Of Canada music that’s not by Boards Of Canada. For a while, it seemed like this was all we’d ever get again.

Maschine - Maschine

Psychonavigation Records: 2011

You know who this label's reminding me of? Shadow Records. Not so much for the music style, though both clearly have a thing for genres that defined the '90s. Right, that makes all the sense with Shadow since they started in the '90s, but they carried on into the new millennium with one foot still firmly planted in the prior decade too. What I mean though, is both Shadow and Psychonavigation Records seem to love scouring their nearby lands for obscure, unheralded talent that fits their musical manifesto. Shadow was clearly in love with sounds Ninja Tune nurtured (being their short-lived American distributor didn't hurt), and Psychonavigation comes off more fond of Warp, Apollo, and other assorted seminal IDM labels. Still, this is the only similarity between the two – ain't no way an album from one or the other might share some stylistic sound. Nope, no how. Except now, brown cow.

So here’s Maschine, who’s self-titled debut on Psychonavigation Records reminds me of something Shadow Records might have put out in one of their more adventurous efforts. There’s jazzy-hop beats. There’s snazzy d’n’b rhythms. There’s deep rumbling dubby bass. There’s an undeniable inner city cool running through this album... for about the first half anyway. The back-half goes more vintage braindance territory, thus here’s your obligatory namedrops for comparison (Autechre, Aphex Twin, Squarepusher). Almost kind of a shame, if I’m honest, as I was much preferring the Amon Tobin leaning cuts from earlier in the album. Still, best of both worlds from Maschine, his tracks unique enough to stand out from a plenty overstuffed IDM market while retaining that retro ‘90s charm. Oh, we’re not allowed to called ‘90s music retro yet? C’mon, it’s been two decades; the ‘80s can’t keep hogging the word forever.

As for the man behind Maschine, Lord Discogs draws a total blank, but the liner notes provide a few tidbits of info. Mostly a live PA act headed by Eoin Coughlan and Aza Hand, though primarily fronted by Eoin at the time of this release. The jazz influences aren’t accidental either, Mr. Coughlan having been brought up in an environment surrounded by the music - his mother's apparently big on the Irish jazz scene, which is fascinating to me that such a scene even exists. Overall, Maschine sounds like the sort of act that burbles in local obscurity for years (Vancouver’s got lots of them), and likely would have remained as such had Psychonavigation not given them a little extra promotional bump. Interestingly, they retain Prime honors for the ‘Maschine’ handle at Lord Discogs. Has there seriously never been another act to use the name before Eoin and Aza entered the database? I mean, you’d think someone in the German techno scene would have claimed it in all these years. Someone with a fuller discography than this Maschine’s. Well, if not, props to you, lads. Good album too, one worth a few additional playthroughs for those days remembering when Autechre used to write melodies.

Dao Da Noize - Kalam

Psychonavigation Records: 2012

Thirty albums in a half-decade? Hell, that's just what Lord Discogs lists as official LPs. Another twenty ‘Miscellaneous’ items fill out Dao Da Noize's discography thus far, mostly tapes and extremely-limited CDr offerings. Oddly, Kalam is included in this category, though I've no idea why. Pyschonavigation Records isn't some ultra-obscure print operating out of a Winnebago in the New Mexico desert. It's a semi-obscure label with a Dublin office drawing in ambient techno producers and IDM-leaning artists like a '90s throwback singularity. Yeah, Kalam is also a limited-run CD, but so are ninety-percent of niche genre releases now.

Clearly then, the man behind Dao Da Noize, Artem Pismenetskii, is something of a Merzbow or Muslimegauze sort, an endless source of noisy experimental music. Glancing through what Lord Discogs has on his releases (you just know there’s more thus far not entered), he has an interest in sounds from across Asia. Early work from the ye’ olde year of 2011 featured quite a few Japanese inspired productions, with a slow sojourn towards the West as time’s passed. Say, maybe he’s retracing the ancient Silk Road like Kitaro! He's released on tons of different labels too: Dark Meadow Recordings, Palemoon Productions, 4iB Records, Trap Door Tapes, Vomit Bucket Productions, Shit Noise Records, Fuck The Industry, Maniacal Hatred, Autistic Campaign, Sincope, Stront, Smell The Stench, Genetic Trance... I swear Dao Da Noize releases one thing on some backwater print, then moves on to another. Who knows how Psychonavigation Records fits into this. Maybe label head Keith Downey is a fan.

By the by, that Muslimgauze namedrop is an intentional, if awkward segue into Kalam, Mr. Pismenetskii stating it a deliberate tribute to the late Bryn Jones (he of an insane amount of output within a fifteen year timespan). Though Muslimgauze wasn’t Muslim, he did focus his muse on the sounds of Arabia (especially Palestine), overdubbing samples and recordings of the region into all manner of crusty beats, layered drone, noisy effects, and Middle Eastern tributes.

As such, Dao Da Noize gets right into it with Kalam I, tablas clunking away, distant chants in the background, and an ear-piercing attack of white noise distortion and bass dub bombs overwhelming your senses. Guess that’s what it’s like living in a war torn region. Kalam II, at twenty minutes in length, reuses many of the same elements as the first, though takes its time in developing, mostly going for dubbed-out trippiness for a while before bringing the tablas back in. The finish is more urgent in pacing, but subdued in tone. A shorter Kalam III throws in more industrial noise and children laughter, then Kalam IV grows dark and moody, very little percussion used. It’s also twenty-five minutes long, so if you like your eerie ethnic dub, you’ll dig this one.

I was surprised I liked Kalam as much as I did. Hell, when I first threw it on, I had no idea what to expect. Such fun adventures of discovery, these label splurges are.

Gel-Sol - K8ema

Psychonavigation Records: 2010

I've already used up all my Gel-Sol background preamble and tasty tidbits of trivia in the review of IZ. What else is there to talk about regarding Mr. Reichel? This is the reason I'm going through my music collection in 'Album' alphabetical order, to keep each review relatively fresh and unique without falling into repetitive grinds. Typically I have enough time and space between artist albums that I'll have dug up some new details about their career, or find a fresh angle to approach a review from. And had I had both IZ and K8ema when they were new, I wouldn’t have this problem now, an entire letter buffering me between the two albums. Right, that letter is ‘J’, the puniest letters in my collection not named ‘Q’, but at least it’d be something. Man, why couldn’t I have stumbled upon Gel-Sol way back when. I had every opportunity to do so. But nay, tech-plodstep was more pressing to review in ye’ olde age of 2008.

Fortunately, the liner notes of K8ema have provided some details I wasn't privy to going into IZ. Yeah, yeah, maybe I should have read those before writing that review, but I'm trying to maintain the illusion of writing these shortly after I play 'em.

Anyhow, both of these albums were apparently written for Mr. Reichel’s nieces, IZ for an Izabella, and this here K8ema for one Katelyn Mae. D’aww. The first, I can hear, as IZ definitely had a lot of sentimentality flowing through its various ambient pieces. K8ema, on the other hand, is stated as a natural evolution of IZ, which means more interesting compositions, though not as much pleasantness little girls might like. In fact, this album is something of a mish-mash of various jam sessions Gel-Sol engaged with other Seattle producers, often using MIDI generators in crafting long, non-looping sequences of bleeps, zoops, diddlidoos, and other unpronounceable electronic sounds. Some tracks get very near musique concrete levels of non-musicality, but they always find a core of a theme to centre around. It’s a style of songcraft that isn’t too dissimilar to the abstract pieces Tangerine Dream were performing when they first started fiddling with synthesizers (and took me a stupid amount of time to realize that).

This helps make K8ema a more engaging playthrough than the uniformly similar IZ. You still have the pleasant synth pad pieces like Abyssinia, The Mechanical Garden, and Lost, but also sci-fi weirdness in tracks like Glade and Gel S’hole. Other pieces feel that krautrock psychedelic muse a’callin’ (Halo Of Stars, Energy Pools), while others aim for blissful peace vibes (Spirit Guide, Panta Rhei). And, just to remind you that this is a dedication to a wee waif, there’s an untitled final lullaby that sounds like it’s played on a electronic toy harpsichord. Double d’aww.

Really, the whole album plays out like one long song of various electronic improvisations, constantly fooling you where a‘proper’ track ends and begins. Fans of tripped-out FSOL definitely apply within.