Various - Sven Väth: What I Used To Play (CD3)

Cocoon Recordings: 2023

Can I say how weird it is seeing photos of Cherub Sven? RIght, I've chosen his most puckish mug shot out from the ones included with the booklet as CD3's cover art, but most aren't that much older looking. I'll grant decades of clubbing will age anyone in rapid order, but he looks like a wee chile' compared to the soul-patch sporting harlequin of his Harthouse days. To say nothing of the Papa Sven look he adopted at the height of his Amnesia fame. Heck, for a large portion of contemporary punters, the grizzled German has always been 'that kooky uncle you love'. I, of course, knew of him earlier than that, such that the 'wet look era' came off quite shocking to yours truly, but man, just how young can this man actually get? Yes, I know that don't make a lick of sense.

We're into the rave years of What [Sven] Used To Play on the final disc, though nothing too bangin' or hype, so if you're expecting some vintage Frankfurt trance, this ain't it. Yes, even though we're definitely in the OMEN era, and even dip our toes into the '90s with tracks like Bobby Konders' Nervous Acid and Primal Scream's Loaded with Andrew Weatherall on the rub. Oh hey, it's that remix, which basically kicked off that whole 'rockers go rave' movement of the Second Summer Of Love.

Other essential rave classics here include A Guy Called Gerald's Voodoo Ray, Ecstasy Club's Jesus Loves The Acid (that's “Aciieedd!” to you), and Meat Beat Manifesto's Helter Skelter. You probably know this tune more for its wildly popular b-side Radio Babylon; aka: that one with the rhythm break knicked by a lot of folks after. And speaking of sampling, here's the first proto-plunderphonic single that charted, M|A|R|R|S' Pump Up The Volume (“Pump up the volume... Dance! Dance!”). Man, did that ever set off an arms race of throwing whatever one could into the production pot, soon after getting suits paranoid over what the actual legalities of all that cribbing of 'found sounds' actually was.

That's most of the familiar tunes sorted. Can't say I ever heard Foremost Poets' Reason To Be Dismal or Lhasa's The Attic, so it's cool filling out a couple personal blanks. The latter sounds like a very primitive piece of New Beat trance, so I can understand why Sven included it, the sort of tune that'd go on to inspire much of Eye Q Records' output. Just, y'know, up the BPM some twenty to thirty notches.

Rounding things out is a re-interpretation of Manuel Göttsching's epic E2-E4 from Sueño Latino – and by 're-interpretation', I mean sampling the tune for their own Balearic house jam. And what collection of early Väth vibes would be complete without at least one OFF track, in this case Electrica Salsa. I dunno', was this popular? I appreciate it for its historical context, but yeah, I'll take Rhythm Is A Dancer or An Accident In Paradise over that any day.

Various - Sven Väth: What I Used To Play (CD2)

Cocoon Recordings: 2023

By the by, I wasn't kidding in suspecting part of the reason this compilation was made was for the boutique vinyl market. In fact, I can't help but think it's the sole reason, as the record option features twelve 12”s. Yes, that means only one or two tracks per side! Which hey, is kinda' handy for record collectors who don't want the fuss of scouring the internet for original (or re-issues upon re-issues) of all these tunes. Yeah, some of this is undoubtedly redundant for serious black crack enthusiasts – having New Order's Blue Monday is almost mandatory for any proper collection – but at least they're all here in one box-set with Sven's seal of approval, right?

Speaking of, if I must levy a major nitpick over What I Used To Play, it's that the presentation is rather bare-bones. The included booklet just features all the various mug shots of Mr. Väth in the cover's collage. There's no liner notes about the tracks, no written blurbs about their history or what they mean to Sven's career. Not even some insight into his early days as a DJ at Dorian Gray in the '80s or setting up Omen later that decade. Highly detailed historical context doesn't seem to be the point of What I Used To Play, letting the music speak for itself. I suppose if you really wanted to know that stuff, you can easily find it all over the internet. Again, disappointing if you wanted more out of this compilation, but far from a deal breaker as a whole.

After an opening salvo of synth-heavy new wave music (holy cow, is Anne Clark's Our Darkness ever an early precursor to New Beat!), disc number two brings us to the midlands of American. That's right, folks, we got our acid (Phuture), we got our Detroit techno (Model 500), and we got Chicago house (Frankie Knuckles and Quest). Okay, hearing No UFO's and Your Love is rather redundant in my case, but at least Sven picked the less obvious We Are Phuture over Acid Tracks, not to mention a real obscurity in Quest's Mind Games (Street Mix). See, there's some merit to this compilation for even the hardiest of crate diggers!

Then CD2 takes turn for the ...world beat? Okay, not really, as that was really a thing yet in the '80s. More like jazz fusion musicians fusing whatever they could get away with, and if that included some Afro chant with drum machines, so be it. So we get the epic fifteen-minute digital drum jam of Jasper Van't Hof's Pili Pili, the pure percussive workout of Guem Et Zaka Percussion's Le Serpent, the Afro trumpet-boogie vibes of Hugh Masekela's Don't Go Loose It Baby, and the... wait, hip-hop of Sly & Robbie? I thought these guys were reggae and dancehall. What are they doing here sounding like something straight out of the vaults of Rick Rubin? Never would have expect such guitar shredding from these chaps.

Various - Sven Väth: What I Used To Play (CD1)

Cocoon Recordings: 2023

Hey, it's the return of the 'let famous DJs show off their neglected records' compilation! This once was a rather fruitful genre of CDs, several series springing up at the turn of the century, Back To Mine probably the most famous of the lot. However, as streaming services took over the market, it made more sense to curate sets and playlists of favourites on such sites rather than deal with the messy business of label legalities. And yet, interest in physical copies of such collections must have started up again, as I've seen a small resurgence in 'what I used to play' compilations. Heck, even Back To Mine emerged from the ashes in recent years!

I honestly have no clue what's spurred on this physical resurgence. Something to do with the boutique vinyl industry? A growing concern of just how 'everlasting' music left on the internet cloud truly is? Whatever the case, it at least gives me an excuse to fill in more blanks of my own collection.

Straight up, Mr. Väth's selection here isn't terribly adventurous if you're already well-versed in '80s club music. Granted, few of these tracks would get play on retro radio these days, and only a handful ever cracked the pop charts when they were new, especially in stodgy America. For a young German making his way in Cold War era nightlife, some of these probably were considered edgy and daring to rinse out. If you were looking for some ultra-deep digging on Sven's part though, this is clearly the wrong 3CD set to come into. He's showing off what he used to play, and that included plenty of familiar crowd pleasers for less discerning heads.

While there aren't any specific themes associated with each disc, there are some stylistic consistencies among each other, which is perfect if one intends to review Every. Single. CD. in the box-set. As I do! So let's dig into CD1 of Sven Väth's What I Used To Play.

Save a couple nods to early hip-hop from Whodini and Rockers Revenge, this is about as 'euro' as these CDs get. We got Kraftwerk! We got Yello (but not Oh Yeah, thank God)! We got Liaisons Dangereuses (such accent)! We got Clan Of Xymox (much darkwave)! Hell, even the Americans and Australians sound like they're trying to be Europeans! Lots of new wave fusions stuff (The The's Giant the most epic of the bunch), and lots of spritely Italo synths (Klein & MBO's Dirty Talk, A Split – Second's Flesh, Severed Heads' Dead Eyes Opened). Plus, a little Easter egg in closing out with 16 Bit's Where Are You?, the duo who'd go onto massive success as Snap! Oh, and team up with Sven as Off. Guess they really liked his guest vocals on this track. Come to think of it, I don't think I've heard Mr. Väth's voice outside a musical context. Just how thick of a euro accent does he actually have, I wonder...

Sven Väth - Retrospective 1990-97

Club Culture: 2000

Kinda' wild to think there aren't many Sven Väth compilations. Plenty of Harthouse or Eye-Q collections, sure, where he's had his hand in the production chair one way or another. An actual LP dedicated to just his works though? This simple little nine-tracker released in the year 2000 is about it. Okay, also a Mixmag set he did for his 30th anniversary as an artist. This CD doesn't go that far back though, only focusing on his Harthouse era. I assume because Club Culture – and by extension, WEA – only had licensing rights to these tracks, thus it was all they could include. And with Sven's Cocoon print and nightclub gaining plenty of plaudits at the turn of the century, time was about right for those licence holders to cash in.

Nine tracks may not seem like a lot of music covering a seven year span, but considering a few of these cuts breach the double-digit length, I'd say that's reasonable bang for your buck. Not so much, though, if you were already a hardcore Harthouse follower, very little on Retrospective even the most casual consumer of that label's output wouldn't already have. Heck, I already have two-thirds of these tracks in some form, but there are a few remixes that I haven't plucked up yet, plus a few others missing from my own library, so springing a few bones for this compilation was an easy buy for yours truly.

Sven Väth's retrospective collection opens up with the early trance hit of Zyon's No Fate ...which isn't actually a Sven Väth joint. Oh, he and right-hand man Ralf Hildenbeutel are definitely on the Struggle Continuous Mix (the version with d'at piano!), which is what's included here. And this is a perfectly suitable track to open Sven's CD on. Just, y'know, hilarious how Sven technically isn't much involved with it, but rather those other two Eye-Q all-stars: A.C. Boutsen and Stevie B-Zet. Speaking of, Vernon's Wonderland is also on here, but again as remix (called The Future) handled by Sven and Ralf.

Anyhow, of the tunes I already have, Spectrum is here, as is An Accident In Paradise. Heck, I even have that ultra-long Underworld rub of Harlequin – The Beauty And The Beast, which I assume would have been a selling point for this CD for most others. Nice to finally have an original version of the classic, chipper My Name Is Barbarella, though this moody, minimalist Michael Mayer version of L'Esperanza isn't much to get fussed about – darn edits.

That leaves just two tracks I've never talked about. The first is Sven's own Ballet Fusion but it's also an edit, so nuts to that. Electro Acupuncture then, with B-Zet under the guise of Astral Pilot. It's a twelve-minute outing of bouncy techno that's a lot of fun and would probably get huffed out of Very Important techno circles but is so Very Sven Väth – especially of this period – so who gives a hoot?

Sven Väth - Accident In Paradise

Eye Q Records: 1992

Only Sven Väth could make a 'solo' debut such as this and get away with it. Like could you imagine a man in the 2000s behind Very Serious minimal techno parties in Ibiza creating something as daft as a flute and harpsichord Coda? Not bloody likely – unless, of course, you are Sven Väth, a chap who probably hasn't a clue where his inspiration will take him. He just goes with it as he feels it. And my mind boggles of what it must have been like to hear Accident In Paradise when it was fresh and new, a collection of highfalutin artistry from the dude behind the legendary OMEN nightclub, and who's previous major musical output consisted of singing with the boys behind Snap!

In officially putting his name on an actual record though, I'm sure the young Väth had a ton of ideas floating about his head, many of which inspired by the raving lunatics he saw emerging in Frankfurt's nascent clubbing scene. The freaks were coming out in full force, uninhibited by the looming threat of crushing communism while getting knackered on really good drugs. It must have looked like a carnival of world-wide cultures, all meeting at a European crossroads, where tribal spiritualists could intermingle within aristocratic chambers. So many ideas, so many influences, how can one interpret them within the confines of dance album? Probably you don't, but that didn't stop Sven from at least trying.

Fortunately, Mr. Väth had a secret weapon at his disposal, helping him curate his ideas into something presentable. Okay, Ralf Hildenbeutel wasn't that much of a secret, the man already instrumental in producing many of Eye Q Records' early singles. He and Väth even released a collaborative album earlier that year as Barbarella, a more straight-forward techno LP. Having gotten what was 'expected' of them out, they were free to indulge in whatever fit their fancy in a proper artist record. Just make sure that lead single's a stompin' acid techno cut though – don't want to scare the punters off before they buy the album.

Accident In Paradise is, if nothing else, an ambitious LP that almost comes together as Sven and Ralf envisioned. Heavily front-loaded, the opening salvo of tribal-trancer Ritual Of Life, sweeping ambience of Caravan Of Emotions, and blissy Balearic vibes of L'Esperanza eats thirty-five minutes of the album, more than half its runtime. It can't help but go down from there, and they don't even try reaching that lofty peak again, the back half of Accident In Paradise mostly taken up by interstitial musical doodles of Renaissance dalliances. Even Mellow Illusion, a groovy, nine-minute old-school trancer, comes off humble and ordinary in this album's context. Re-issues added the radio version of L'Esperanza, giving you reason to keep the album playing through, if you're willing to sit through Sven and Ralf's psychedelic carnival ride getting there. I give them props for including such daft tunes like Merry-Go-Round Somewhere, but like most, I usually tap out after Mellow Illusion.

Sven Väth ‎– In The Mix: The Sound Of The Ninth Season (Original TC Review)

Cocoon Recordings: 2008

(2015 Update:
At the risk of being totally predictable, boy what a difference of six years can make. No longer the scrappy, renegade techno party, Mr. Väth's night had become an Ibizan institution as the '00s wound down, one of the requisite stops for every vacationing punter. As such, the music reflected this change, recognizable anthems replacing underground, fuck-off bangers. It's a small shame that he didn't stay the harder course, but with so much success comes some responsibility in playing to the crowd, and the typical clubber would rather bop and shuffle in place than pound the dancefloor all night long. Ironically, given the bad rep trance had at this time (and still does!) the neo-trance stuff at the tail-end of CD2 comes off more daring and underground than anything from Jonson, Dubfire, or Johnny D.)


IN BRIEF: Something new, something old.

While there are club DJs, rave DJs, and superstar DJs, there seems to be only one Sven Väth, an individual who has seen every walk of European EDM culture since its inception. He’s like that guy who went through a high-school as part of the first graduating class, remained as a member of the faculty, and will probably stick around post-retirement even if it’s as a custodian - he just loves the place so damned much to ever leave. Similarly, Väth isn’t simply a reveler in dance music hedonism - he is hedonism!

Unsurprisingly then, ‘Pappa Sven’ saw something of a rebirth once he established his Cocoon brand in Ibiza at the turn of the century, gearing it as the grittier underground alternative to the high-end gloss the party island had succumbed to from dance music’s commercial success at the time. The emphasis on take-no-prisoners techno and such certainly was out of the ordinary back then, but that outsider’s thinking seems to have paid off: Väth remains just as popular as ever, all without ever compromising his musical intuition. Success!

The yearly Sound Of The... Season series aims to be a reflection of the sounds Sven was favoring in Ibiza each summer, and as such, nine years after Cocoon was established, we’ve arrived at the Ninth Season. While this may seem redundant if you were actually there, in these unforgiving economic times plane tickets can be pricey, so it’s nice to have a snapshot for those who can’t make it. Besides, it’s not like most of the partiers in Ibiza often actually ‘remember’ what even happened there, much less specifically heard. Anyhow, Ninth Season, like most of the previous Seasons in recent years, follows the two-disc format, with each disc having a tagline that reflects that year’s theme; this time, we have Disco and Invaders. For the sake of repetition, here’s yet another paragraph ending with an exclamation mark!

Disco is typical Väth: willfully erratic, yet compelling all the same. Heck, the opening track from Mathew “Not Dear Or Edwards” Jonson could be construed as typical Väth in itself, as it jumps from mournful woodwinds to thumping techno to wonky experimentalism in the course of its ten-minute running time. Another example: following Sasha’s futuristic groover Mongoose is the Afro tribal-techno Buiya from Ahmet Sisman, taking you right back to pure primal roots after cruising the streets of neo-Tokyo. Okay, so there really isn’t anything that amazing about this transition but in terms of set flow, it’s unexpected and keeps the rhythmic tempo on the climb, which is always a plus.

As per its title, CD1 is mostly geared for the discotheque, so you get a lot of big-room techno thumping about. While I’ll admit I preferred Väth’s techno when he was slamming out the tracks a dozen BPMs higher, the cuts on Ninth are still serious movers. Heck, even if it’s played-out, Dubfire’s remix of Radio Slave’s Grindhouse remains a great peak-time tune, indicating the prolific remixer has merely been working the Law Of Averages this past year - mind, it probably helps that Väth also cuts out some two-and-a-half minutes of useless twiddle. Unfortunately, Disco ends on a rather limp note, as Prydz’ remix of Total Departure is an overlong tension builder that never offers a release, and Väth’s own Trashbindance with Alter Ego man Roman Flügel is too plinky-plonk to do the trick as a follow-up. Still, this disc is a fun romp through familiarity, which is par for the course where Ibizan-themed compilations are concerned.

CD2 is more of an afterhours affair, with deep tech house dominating much of the first half. As usual, the chill groove of this sound is pleasant enough, but tends to be mostly a flatlined listening experience. About the only track that leaps out is, of course, Johnny D’s Orbitalife, if only because it was one of those omnipresent tunes you couldn’t ever escape. Hearing it here again is fair play, but still doesn’t lift the opening chunk of Invaders above anything more exciting than lounge vibes.

Things pick up with the pure acid trance vibes of Waiting For You Again from Sven Tasnadi. Don’t give me that look, you insufferable trendster. If you don’t recognize this as trance, then you clearly don’t know your EDM history; get back to me after you’ve listened to some classic cuts from Väth’s original Harthouse label. For everyone left, Invaders continues down the loopy hypnotic road, perhaps suggesting that classic trance is due for a proper resurgence in the coming year, provided folks call it what it is rather than lumping it with ‘minimal’. With Joris Voorn’s remix of Dark Flower offering a prog-house type of climax - at least in the way Väth uses it - and the quirky world beat vibes of Spirits providing a wonderful coda, CD2 ends far more strongly than CD1.

Ninth Season definitely has more things working in its favor than against; the strength of the music on hand is always beneficial. The unfortunate thing, however, is it doesn’t come across like a necessary pick-up. Unlike, say, Third Season which had the tag-team of Hawtin and an overall ‘night-out’ theme running, or the DVD package of Fifth Season, there isn’t anything unique here to differentiate Ninth from the rest of the Sound Of… series beyond the selection of tracks. And even then, a number of them have been featured on several other compilations since the summer - as such, should you already have a bunch of these tunes, chances are you’ll be more willing to give this one a pass. If not, though, or you have no problem with Väth mixing together a bunch of well-rinsed techno records for your home enjoyment, then Ninth Season should find a comfy home in your collection.

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

Sven Väth & Richie Hawtin - The Sound Of The Third Season

M_nus: 2002

Standing out in a crowded DJ mix CD market was no mean task a decade ago. You could have a stellar selection of tunes and credible hype getting your name out there, but even the best PR may not sway folks to your offering if it’s still presented as just another rinse out of current tunes. Sven Väth though, he knew he had something special going on with his Cocoon nights at Amnesia. The Monday night slot only helped its allure grow with underground heads, Cocoon becoming a refuge for partiers tired of weekend superclub excess, and Väth had no trouble providing uncompromising techno they would appreciate. Soon he was bringing in premier techno jocks the world over, including one Richie Hawtin for a tag-team residency in the summer of 2001. Their night was so successful, so memorable, so life-changing and affirming (especially for Richie!), that they sought to capture the vibe for home hearing pleasure. Whether as seductive advertising for the club night, or a postcard memento of the experience, The Sound Of The Third Season hoped to take the listener on an immersive dive into the Cocoon experience.

By the by, if you’re a newer participant in this global culture of dance music, you should know we’re dealing with the Pre-Crisis versions of Hawtin and Väth here. The latter is still in his doofy eurotrash phase, so no grizzled Papa Sven beard for you. And Hawtin had yet to grow his hair back, still rockin’ the perfect robot scalp of the ‘90s, though clearly in brighter spirits than those dour times.

This is also before Hawtin decreed all techno could only be serious and ‘mnml’ music, thus instead rinsing out some absolute bangin’ material for his opening portion of this CD. True, it was the preferred sound of techno at the time, but it’s almost startling to hear a Hawtin set encompass things like an actual hook in DJ Shufflemaster’s Play Back, Pt. 3, to say nothing of the slightly tech-trancey chords in Smith & Selway’s rub of Slam’s Step Back. I wonder if Richie’s embarrassed by this phase of his today? As for Sven, he picks right up from Hawtin with the techno pummelage, then goes into noisy electro and punk techno (Vitalic, Hacker, Legowelt, and John Starlight all make appearances), which isn’t surprising for a 2001/2 set of this sort.

What marks Sound Of The Third Season as a unique entity, however, is all the field recordings Sven and Hawtin gathered, interjecting them at various points throughout the mix. Their aim was to recreate the atmosphere of a night out with them, including a t-bone steak dinner prior to the club, plus some afterhours shenanigans too (with Swayzak music!). Some folks complained these bits ruined the set flow of the CD, and Väth never repeated the trick in future installments of this series. I find it a worthy experiment though, plus rather hilarious for the final bit of ‘not-at-all-high’ dialog at the very end.

Sven Väth - Harlequin - The Beauty And The Beast

Warner Bros. Records: 1994

Sven Väth is Sven Väth, a very important- wait, I did that joke for him already. Then let’s get right to it for this mega-maxi CD of Harlequin – The Beauty And The Beast. As the lead single to his sophomore effort, The Harlequin, The Robot And The Ballet-Dancer, there was quite the bit of expectation going in. An Accident In Paradise was hailed as a early classic of the emerging German take on techno (trance!), even with some of the odder sonic doodles hampering the album’s overall flow. Could Sven capture the same magic he and Hildenbeutel crafted with Ritual Of Life, Caravan Of Emotions, and L’Esperanza?

Not with a convoluted title like Harlequin – The Beauty And The Beast. What is that even supposed to mean? I realize The Harlequin, The Robot, And The Ballet-Dancer had something of concept going on, but the title is horribly clumsy. Not to mention just glancing at it along with the so-very ‘90s CGI cover art undoubtedly had some wondering if Sven had gone all prog rock on them. The music may be perfectly fine, but man does the presentation do it no favors.

In the end, the track with the longest title was picked for the lead single, annoying any scribes setting out to review it. It’s a decent enough tune, in that early Teutonic techno sort of way. Skitchy backing synths, a lead that’s easy enough to get hooked on, and some nods to goa trance that was catching on elsewheres in clubland (although the Club Mix is about where you’ll hear most of it, what with over ten minutes to work with).

Remixes then. Since this was intended to be Sven’s hot new single, there’s a pile of them. Underworld’s take on Harlequin – The blahblahblah works the group’s classic cool groove into a twelve minute excursion that plays to all of progressive house’s ‘back-in-the-day’ strengths, never feeling as long as it actually is. And as the original owed some sonic nods to psy, Total Eclipse offers a proper goa spin on the tune. C.J. Bolland’s also here, beefing up the beats if you like your techno hard and bangin’. And finally, Pascal F.E.O.S. gives us a remix that’s a little more bare and acidy.

No, wait, that’s not ‘finally’, if you got this American version of the single. All those other remixes, they’re just too Euro, man. What this tune needs is some proper, deep, funky garage-house from the likes of Murk. In fact, forget whatever the original sounded like, let’s get Marck Michel on the microphone, giving Harlequin – DamnitI’mnottypingitanymore more soul than those Germans could hope to craft. And you know what? This ‘remix’ is so good on its own, let’s have four versions of the same bumping, muscular vibes. ‘Cause that’s the ’merica way of doin’ things, boy.

Quite a diverse collection of remixes then, but unfortunately overstuffed, leaving the finished product a middling affair. Too many utterances of “the beauty and the beast” methinks.

Sven Väth - Contact

Ultra Records: 2000

Sven Väth is Sven Väth, a very important person in the world of techno, though that wasn't always the case. For the early part of his career, he was a very important person in the world of trance, running the influential Harthouse label. Right around the time trance was blowing up, he abandoned it, pursuing a fashionable German infatuation with techno instead. Also changing was his fashion sense itself, foregoing a harlequin-rave style and diving headfirst into doofy eurotrash, literally. He dunked his bleached hair into industrial-strength superwet-gel, and became synonymous with the look until a geeky Canadian named Richie co-opted it for himself, forcing Sven to adopt yet another persona, the grizzled Papa Sven we know today.

That’s jumping ahead. For Contact, he have to focus on the doofy eurotrash era. This was when Sven established his Cocoon parties in Ibiza, along with his new label Cocoon Recordings. It took a bit for it to properly take off, as the brand of techno Väth was pushing was seen as too hard and underground for mainstream acceptance. You’d think, in an effort to promote this particular brand of German techno, he’d release an album filled with such bangers. Oh, silly you.

Väth had shown eclecticism before, but there was a sense he had a specific vision in mind on his previous albums. Mind, he did have Ralf Hildenbeutel as co-producer on them, which quite likely helped guide a wayward muse. Contact instead brings in different co-producers, who were well known, true, but leads to a disjointed album.

Most prominent is Alter Ego, helping out on nearly half the tracks. On the other half is Anthony Rother, who was something of a rising star in the electro-proper revival going on at the time. Two more or handled by Johannes Heil, and two Sven went solo on (the goofy electro Apricot, and the beatless ambient-techno throwback Privado). Quite a collection of talent, and each tune they work on has its own unique charm. Unfortunately, there’s no cohesion among them. The Rother tracks mostly maintain an electro vibe (Pathfinder and Once More especially so), but are totally out of place when paired up with the minimal techno Alter Ego offers. Smuggler, which only Roman Flügel contributed to, is a fine techno workout, then clashes bizarrely with the Heil-hemmed hard breaks of Contact.

If this is sounding more like a compilation than an album, it’s because that’s what it’s like listening to this CD - a sampler of various techno sub-genres. To be fair, techno itself was going through something of an upheaval in 2000, fresher European sounds finding their way into playlists. Perhaps Sven was hedging his bets, experimenting to find what worked best for him. Or maybe he didn’t care, and rushed this out to meet label quota demands (he was signed to Virgin) while diverting most of his attention to DJing. Whatever the case, Contact is an odd listen with good moments, but not one enjoyed in a single sitting.

Various - Dark Hearts Volume 1: A Harthouse Compilation (Original TC Review)

Harthouse (US): Cat. # HH1004-2
Year Released: 1995

Track List:
1. Metal Master - Spectrum (Double J Mix) (8:56)
2. The Ambush - Casablanca (7:18)
3. Barbarella - My Name Is Barbarella (1995 Be Zet Mix) (6:26)
4. Jiri.Ceiver - Short Waves (4:28)
5. Progressive Attack - Hypnoticharmony Parts I + II (9:22)
6. Spicelab - Quicksand (8:06)
7. Pulse - Cariño (Silencio) (7:08)
8. Alter Ego - Tanks Ahead (Black Dog Mix) (7:19)
9. Resistance D - Human (Laurent Garnier Mix) (9:01)
10. Pulsation - Pulsar (4:09)

(2010 Update:
Hm. I can't really think of anything that needs updating to this review. Oh, sure, the grammar's still a bit clunky and overly descriptive, but at least it's manageable in this case. I'm quite pleased that TranceCritic managed to sell a couple copies of these through Amazon. Let's me know that some folks out there trust my opinion on such matters, heh.)

Although this is a trance compilation, don't go into Dark Hearts expecting to hear sounds that have dominated the trance scene for the last five years. The songs on here are very subtle and slight in their compositions. What makes them so captivating, however, are the soundscapes created. Quite often it seems they were crafted on a far, flung planet by an advanced civilization, melding the synthetic and organic into gorgeous sonic textures. This compilation is a testament to Harthouse’s genre defining, and even breaking, style.

The classic track Spectrum by Metal Master (Sven Väth and A.C. Boutsen) is as good as any song to open up such an album. Given a remix here by Mike Edwards (more commonly known as Jesus Jones, hence “Double J”), this mix of Spectrum isn't too concerned about moving feet anytime soon as it gives itself plenty of time to build upon its elements from the start. The primary melody, a low somber piece played with either synthesized pan-flutes or pads at various points, starts the song up after a bit of opening with effects plays out. Stuttering, hollowed out synths, low acid warbles, juicy synth bass, and minimal electro breakbeats progressively add texture. Finally, some four minutes in, everything comes together for a gorgeous number, elements weaving and building upon each other until a rousing climax another four minutes later. This is emotionally stirring stuff, not easy to follow-up. Fortunately, if anyone is up for the task, it would be Oliver Lieb.

As The Ambush, Oliver Lieb has crafted some remarkable compositions and the offering here in Casablanca doesn't disappoint. With a simple bit of tom percussion accompanying it, this song starts out with benign synth chords lightly alternating between left and right, the lower tone on the former and the higher on the latter. After nearly two minutes of lead in with various sonic elements coming and going, the song comes into form as various heavy organic percussion chug along to a gorgeous synth pad playing a lovely melody. A minor breakdown and build using early elements takes over for a minute before giving way back to the main synth pad. Eventually, everything comes together for a climax, then gently retreats, leaving only a single, somber synth pad to play out.

Really, Casablanca isn't a typical trance song, as it's quite similarly paced with Spectrum and doesn't use any overtly synthetic sounding bits of percussion, much less a traditional 4/4 bass kick. Still, it is an amazingly rich song that shouldn't be overlooked for any reason.

The pace picks up a bit with another classic track: My Name Is Barbarella by Barbarella (Väth again, with Ralf Hildenbeutel this time), with a remix done by B-Zet. More benign than emotionally rousing like the previous two tracks, this song still has many great things going for it. The pads are minimal but always present in a synthetically lovely way and gentle, heavenly singing flutters in and out every so often. Simple little electronic riffs carry throughout, playing off of each other or the pads, especially in a breakdown mid-way through. Sonically delightful.

Jiri.Ceiver makes things not quite as emotional with Short Waves. This track is a little mechanically menacing compared to what's been featured here thus far, with plenty of effects sounding fit inside a factory and a bass line that growls along. As a song, it doesn't go anywhere far since Jiri.Ceiver seems more concerned about showing off quirky noises rather than using them to make riffs out of. However, in showcasing some interesting sounds and effects in a traditional techno style, Short Waves is good stuff.

Leaving the grind of factories behind, Progressive Attack (Ralf Hildenbeutel on his own) seems keen on taking us through space with Hypnoticharmony Parts I + II. Using different layers of spacey, trancey pads, this song takes its time in setting mood rather than groove. The pad work really is quite lovely, and a synthetic-sounding female sample weaving in and out adds to a Bladerunner-esque atmosphere. Eventually, a brisk beat is laid out, but for the most part, Hypnoticharmony relies on its use of pad work rather than the minimal electronic riffs utilized. Towards the end, the riffs are given a chance to take the foreground as the percussion picks up but the track has been so mellow up to this point that it doesn't really seem to make much difference. Still, this is yet another sonically rich song on Dark Hearts. I'm beginning to wonder if this consistency will ever be let down here.

If the thought were to occur, Oliver Lieb'll have something to say about it. This time under the alias of Spicelab, we are treated to a creepy, alien excursion into sci-fi ambience with the song Quicksand. To dismiss it as merely that, however, would be doing this song no favors, as there definitely is a groove to it, however minimal. Still, the main focus of Quicksand is for synth pads to weave and work their way around plenty of synthetic samples and effects, and it accomplishes this with remarkable skill and finesse. Of course, I'd expect nothing less from Oliver Lieb.

A trancey, hollow riff starts Cariño (Silencio) by Pulse off, and pretty much dominates this song without much variation throughout. Bits of percussion and little electronic lines slowly emerge from the background at points but they tend to be so subdued behind the main riff that you'd be hard pressed to really notice them. While this riff in itself isn't too bad, the fact that it is so constant throughout can lead Cariño into quite a repetitive state, even if you are concentrating on the few subliminal things this song has to offer. Even a bit of echo subtly added to it towards the end doesn't help much. A perfect enough transitional track, really.

If Cariño seemed too repetative for some, The Black Dog's mix of Tanks Ahead by Alter Ego should be right up your alley. Uniquely dynamic percussion, electronic effects and sounds, subliminal pads, and trancey riffs all combine to form quite the listening experience. Everything continuously weaves about throughout this song that it never becomes repetitive. The unfortunate thing though, is with so much going on, nothing really stands out in the front and center either, rendering this song as filler; albeit incredibly diverse filler, but filler nonetheless.

Returning to the more minimal sound featured earlier on the album is Human by Resistance D, with Laurent Garnier providing a remix. Moving along at a brisk pace, dark, synth pads weave in and out while a deep, subliminal electronic line carries the song along, varying slightly at times through pitch effects and so on. Little acid bleeps and pulses appear every so often as well but are used more as background effect than anything else. It sounds decent enough but without more variance, and percussion that keeps itself simple almost to a fault, Human may have difficulty remaining lodged in your head anytime soon, especially after hearing so many textured songs on this album.

Ending Dark Hearts is Pulsar by Pulsation, a little known alias of Pete Namlook. Strictly an ambient affair, Pulsar is the perfect track to end an album on. Deep, spacey, synth pads cruise about as alien effects and tinkling pianos flutter in and out of this song. Without any percussion to speak of, Pulsar is about as ambient as it gets. It doesn't vary much throughout but is nice to listen to as background music and let your mind drift away.

There isn't much funk or big moments on this album, but really that isn't the point of these tracks. Why enjoy a moment when your emotions and imagination can be taken to such wondrous places as these songs take you to? Your mind will drift with pads and electronic pulses as you marvel at such a delicate craft of manipulation of synthetic sounds. From the serene to the inscrutable (sometimes even from the same producers under different guises), this album has it all.

Score: 9/10

ACE TRACKS:
Metal Master - Spectrum (Double J Mix)
Progressive Attack - Hypnoticharmony Parts I + II

Written by Sykonee. Originally published 2004 for TranceCritic.com.© All rights reserved.