Various - Bedrock: John Digweed

Ultra Records: 1999

Many folks consider this Digweed's proper debut solo DJ mix, which is funny considering how long he'd been spinning records up to that point. Heck, he'd just done a set for Global Underground the year prior, and a solo follow-up to his and Sasha's seminal Renaissance set half a decade earlier. Not to mention various odds and ends that slipped through the radar for various reasons. Most of those were in service of other brands though, but by the end of the '90s, Digweed was a brand unto himself. And what better time to expand that brand than by propping up his newer brand, the freshly minted label Bedrock.

Bedrock became a short-lived series itself, but this inaugural outing clearly overshadowed the follow-ups. When people think Bedrock, they think Digweed, and all the artists featured on his label were there because of his blessing keen sense of club weapons for the progressive elite. This was his opening statement for a new phase in his career, dictating where progressive house would go. Also, a shameless way to plug his new big single Heaven Scent to help launch the Bedrock brand proper-like. All the way at the end of the double-disc set. As if it didn't really fit with the new manifesto. Hmmm...

Forget Heaven Scent. What matters is all the music before it on that tasty CD2. Prog has plenty of criticisms, some of which rear their heads in this set (only ten tracks, what?), but I cannot deny the tunes included here do the business proper-like for my earholes. The opening track alone (Ba Ba (Human Movement Remix) from Pob & Taylor) gets on that hard, techy brand of prog that Steve Porter would launch a career from. The Bedrock rub on Heller & Farley's The Rising Sun practically defines the dark, chugging style that prog would build its reputation around (“deep, deep, dub”). And while it's no Breeder, Sandra Collins' Flutterby pulls closely enough from the the same tech-trance lane such that the sound gets its just representation in this set. Oh, and Markus Schulz is here too, his early Dakota track Swirl offering one of the few melodic moments. Guess Digweed needed something to make the anthemic melodies of Heaven Scent not seem as out of place.

All this gushing over CD2, but what about CD1? Yeah, about that. Two decades later, and with multiple attempts, including most recently, this one just doesn't stick in my head that well. It's the dreaded other critique against prog, its more vapourous tendencies for long stretches, and believe you me, this problem would persist in the following editions of Bedrock.

Maybe CD1 is just too sluggish compared to CD2, and thus always forgotten whenever I play them back-to-back. Oddly, the vocal stuff leaves the only impression, like in Moody from BPT, the Fluke-ish True from Morel, and the quaint robotic Hawkins-speak in We Are Connected from Jodi & Spesh. Who'd have thought vocals would be the best part?

Various - Back To Mine: Faithless

DMC/Ultra Records: 2000/2001

Tapping superstar DJs to helm a new compilation mix series is all well and good, but how many superstar chill-out DJs were there, really? The dudes from The Orb, Mixmaster Morris, and a couple others, probably. No, the truly famed acts within this scene remain the producers, and DMC was quick in steering their fresh Back To Mine outings towards the names responsible for creating the tracks heard all over downtempo discs and U.K. mall radios. Groove Armada was the first (because of course), followed by the somewhat surprising choice of Faithless. Yeah, the group was one of the biggest commercial successes at the time, and certainly their album material had plenty of laid-back tunes, but they were primarily known for their mega club anthems. Not exactly on the tips of everyone's earlobes when wanting to wind down, is what I'm getting at.

Still, Back To Mine wasn't intended for the typical punter demographic, and for folks who may have preferred Faithless songs like Flowerstand Man and Hour Of Need over God Is A DJ (*cough*), this would be right up their ally. For Rollo and Sister Bliss, who curated this collection of post-clubbing cuts, felt it a great chance to show off the dusty soul records in their libraries. Aaron Neville is here! Pauline Taylor is here! Tindersticks is here! Mazzy Star is here! Dido is here! Wait, Dido is soul? Well, Brit-soul, but yeah, of course Rollo's sister would be here. She even opens the whole set, though I cannot deny her soft, lonesome croon does create the perfect mood for where Faithless takes us after.

Right into Dusted's Childhood, and mang', let me tell you, this track alone sold me on the album that came out shortly after, enough to at least give it a curious listen. It's like, Faithless, but also not! And then I discovered it kinda' was! Oh, and don't worry, folks. Aside from using Sunday 8PM (from the album of the same name) as a transitional track later on, Rollo and Bliss are done with the self-promotion.

Elsewhere, the duo work in some deep house vibes (Marshall Jefferson's Mushrooms), some garage vibes (Adamski's Never Goin' Down), some funk vibes (Alex Gopher's The Child), and Balearic vibes (Bent's I Love My Man). Really, about the only tune that feels starkly out of place is Paperclip People's Throw, the Carl Craig tech-house jam rather abrasive and too darn long compared to everything else on here. Sure can't play that on the work radio, darn it all. But hey, what's a 'personal record showcase' without a cheeky tune or two? Speaking of, having a crusty, reggae-dub cover of Billie Jean as your capper is a most delectable bit of cheek indeed.

Clearly, I adore Faithless' contribution to Back To Mine, and find it one of the finest CDs of downtime music in my library. I eagerly awaited the next volume but unfortunately, things would go a little screwy with the series on my side of the pond.

Various - Back To Mine: Danny Tenaglia

DMC/Ultra Records: 1999/2000

The concept of the chill-out compilation had never been more fashionable as the last century drew to a close, but something was missing from it truly taking off to the next level. It was all well and good for labels to curate a clutch of tracks for after hours, but who were these label heads, really? Just some anonymous office folks, right? Well, no, not always, but when the major prints started getting their fingers into the clubbing culture pot, you couldn't help but glance at the proliferation of faceless DJ mixes sideways. Say what you will about Global Underground over-hyping their jocks, they at least gave the impression you were getting a particular individual's take on what they enjoyed out of dance music.

So the thinking went with Back To Mine, a chance to put some superstar DJ power behind a fresh new chill-out brand. And sure, give these popular club jocks a chance to share some of the overlooked gems deep in their crates, the tunes they'd never get to rinse in a regular outing. Well, not unless Sasha & Digweed's original concept for Northern Exposure hadn't been so quickly abandoned.

The first couple entries in this new series featured Nick Warren and Dave Seaman. No, Back To Mine wasn't financed by Global Underground, why do you ask? It wasn't long before these CDs were getting domestic releases in my half of the globe, so when I spotted the third volume helmed by Danny Tenaglia, I snatched that up post-haste. Finally, a DJ mix I could show off to my peers wherein all that downtempo stuff I'd buy is now officially proper-cool!

Kinda' hard to pull that off when your opening track is from The Gentle People though. For sure, I like it, and Danny makes a very compelling case for why he likes it in the liner notes. And besides, isn't Back To Mine all about showing off the tunes you like in favour of what's deemed cool or not? Absolutely! Still, unless you're completely in on the fondue, The Gentle People are a hard sell no matter the context. At least Mr. Tenaglia gives us his own jazzy, deep groover Loft In Paradise a couple tracks after.

Yeah, for a supposed 'chill-out' collection, Danny's Back To Mine is rather upbeat overall. Nothing relaxing about Bang The Party's Bang Bang You're Mine, while Ce Ce Peniston's Keep On Walkin' is a right peppy little number, as Ce Ce's tunes typically were. Elsewhere, Crescendo's Cairo takes the CD down a surprising, dusty world-beat road, but given the number of Latin and gospel influences in this set, why not some Arabian sounds too?

Despite not really keeping with the after-hours theme, Tenaglia's Back To Mine remains a nifty collection of tunes he'd likely never have a chance of rinsing out in the usual clubbing environments. Does make me wonder though, if he ever sneaked a couple in during Hour Seventeen of one of those twenty-hour marathon sets.

Sasha - Xpander EP (2018 Update)

Ultra Records: 1999

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review)


Feels like this has been a lo-o-o-o-ong time coming, the last of my earliest reviews needing a proper overhaul. Technically, that's not true, another from those first few shaky months of TranceCritic writing lurking down (up?) in the 'A's of my album collection. Doubt there's much anticipation for another Eat Static review though, whereas everyone's always interested in another take on Xpander. Especially when one's original take is a grotesque word salad of amateur track-by-track detailing.

Frankly though, there's not much I can expand upon the Xpander discourse (except bad puns, clearly). The tune holds up astoundingly well two-decades on, still sounding light-years beyond what its prog contemporaries were offering, and there was no lack of bombs from the year 1999, believe you me. I mean, obviously the big synth leads and twinkly melodies are the memorable features, but mang', listen to what's going on in that rhythm too! What even is that burbling, churning low-end? Not the bassline, that's for sure – it's just superficial fluff, yet the sound design on it is astounding! Is it any wonder folks were hot for Airdrawndagger to drop if that level of detail was put into a big, obvious anthem like Xpander? Imagine hearing such music for a whole album's worth. No, really, keep imagining it – we never did get what folks were expecting with Sasha's final LP effort.

It's not like Mr. Coe had to craft such an exquisitely produced track with Charlie May. When this single came out, it was more in service as what was expected of top tier DJs of the time. No matter how deep your crates, how impeccable your track selection, or how masterful your mixing, the punters of the world demanded a signature anthem to your name. Digweed had Heaven Scent, Oakenfold had If I Could Fly, Tenaglia had Elements, Tiësto had his remix of Delerium's Silence, and so on. So too it appeared the case with Sasha's Xpander, the requisite anthem folks going to his shows could happily expect to hear every time. Only he overshot, and now the tune is getting orchestral remakes. Take that, Digweed!

The other tunes on this EP were obviously overshadowed when Xpander first dropped, but have gained more respect over the years for not being as blatant as the main track is. If anything, it showcases where Sasha's muse more generally wanders, never quite coalescing into something easily identifiable while plucking traits of personal favourites of his past. Belfunk's got that chuggy, proggy groove before melting into Orbital, morning-after bliss. Rabbitweed gets in on that ominous prog-breaks business with shades of Way Out West thrown in – and again, just an insane amount of detail in the percussion. Baja provides the lengthy chill, comedown vibe with ethnic samples and dubby percussion. Huh, y'know, under another producer's handle, this could have passed for psy-dub. Never noticed that before. Oh, the strange alternative timeline we could have lived in had Sasha been swayed into the psy camps instead.

Adam Freeland - Tectonics

Ultra Records: 1999

I intended starting this review with another “only specific release of thing you need, even if you don’t like it” quip, and why not? Adam Freeland’s Tectonics is heralded as one of the essential DJ mixes of the nu-skool breaks scene, an opening statement of a genre that had a significant, successful run of influence. Almost overnight, big beat breaks were pronounced dead, everyone anxious to get on this crazy new sound where punchy, bass-heavy rhythms and cutting-edge production tricks dominated. When the PR sticker on the CD proclaimed Tectonics represented the future of electronic music, you actually believed such hyperbole after that final broken beat had faded in chill bliss. I mean, we were witnessing the birth of a whole new genre, mang, with music within to back it up!

And the truth is nu-skool didn’t see many mixes that topped Tectonics in subsequent years. Plenty of solid CDs on the market, sure, with numerous DJs finding a comfortable niche within the scene, and a significant amount of time passing before it all collapsed within inevitable sub-genre stagnation. Yet when folks and fans reflect on all of nu-skool’s accomplishments, few items ever come close in fondness or reverence than Tectonics. Not bad for a mix that is only about one-third nu-skool.

Hence why I can’t in good conscience recommend this CD as “the only nu-skool breaks yada yada etc.” - more than half the tracks aren’t of the genre. Hell, the last couple tracks could even be considered from the realms of house. Vigi & Flip’s Freak Frequency is a hard, tech-house stomper with the sort of growling bassline Funk D’Void liked using for a time, while Layo & Bushwacka!’s Deep South has the steadiest ‘breaks’ rhythm you’d ever hear in a set such as this; Freeland sure was paying attention, practically lifting the pattern wholesale for his future ‘rock’ remixes. Also in the back half of Tectonics, 3 Mile Island’s Liposuction goes more Florida, Motion Unit’s My Mind more electro, and Proper Filthy Naughty's Stitch Up more progressive. Elsewhere, Audiowerk’s Impulse Transmission is full-on electro, while Bushwacka!’s rub of Leuroj’s Isokora is the closest thing to ‘traditional breaks’ on the whole mix.

While these are all good tunes, its undeniable the nu-skool offerings on Tectonics stood out from the pack, thus why this mix is remembered as a premiere example of the sound. The opening salvo of B.L.I.M.’s Chronologic, Makesome Breaksome’s Pig Chase, and the exclusive Tectonics from Ils is undoubtedly one of the strongest starts to a nu-skool set ever committed to disc, and it’s no wonder everyone fell over their heads hearing it (“Whoa, you can put d’n’b bass in breaks?”). Then you have the bangin’ build of, erm, Bangin’ from Apex, plus the phenomenal, ah, Hip Hop Phenomenon collaboration between Tsunami One (Freeland and Kevin Beber) and BT, all tracks regarded as definitive anthems of nu-skool. With Freeland setting them up as mix centerpieces, yeah, small wonder Tectonics is considered such a seminal nu-skool CD.

Armin van Buuren - A State Of Trance 2004 (2015 Update)

Ultra Records: 2004

(Click here to read my early rambly, rubbish writings.)

Hello, Armin, my old friend. Seems I must talk about you again. Not that I haven't mentioned you when discussing so many things trance - the highs, the lows, and the epic, uplifting in-betweens. Long ago though, I decided it wasn't worth my effort to “get” your music, as the Armin fanclub is wont to say. I suspected it even this far back, when you technically could do no wrong. You were still the scrappy upstart to the euro trance throne, the almighty Tiësto still King and Tyrant, with Corsten remaining the Duke of Dutchiness. Everyone likes an underdog, a talent on the rise, a hustler willing to make his vision come into being. The vision is to be Overlord of all things trancetastic, right?

Unfortunately, Armin's time at the top only eroded a once vibrant scene. It wasn’t entirely his fault, as all scenes must recede, tastes and trends waning as new ones emerge and take the spotlight. Trance though, in its desperation to remain the most popular gateway genre (and thus the most profitable!), hilariously jumped on many a bandwagon with ever increasing cringe-worthy results; Armin was no less guilty a shepherd during this time. There's been a minor return to trance's older strengths, but the scene's had to accept its losses in doing so, becoming purist and niche. That's great if you're willing to play for humble audiences and cultivate a savvy following, but Armin's brand has grown too bloated to take that much of a step back.

I'm astounded his long-suffering fans keep holding out hope he'll return to the sort of sound he played back on this DJ mix. Instead, he dangles them along, throwing an occasional vintage cut their way like so much scrap meat, continuously proclaiming he’s still playing trance, but constantly barraging them with trite dance pop and obnoxious stadium house in his efforts to reach a broad EDM audience. With Solarstone providing the full course meal these days, I must wonder why they settle for substandard product? Armin doesn’t deserve that much unrequited loyalty; no musician does.

Still, listening back to A State Of Trance 2004, it’s understandable how that devotion blossomed. There’s a lot of quality trance on here, much of it holding up remarkably well a decade on. A few problems do persist - Future Funland and Satellite remain pants, Sahara’s still corny, and the end of CD2 hasn’t a clue of where it’s going – but beat for pound, I enjoyed this more than I did before. Heck, some tunes, like Super 8’s Alba and Mono’s Rise, I’d totally forgotten about, and found myself vibing off them like they were fresh, new cuts.

Then again, maybe I'm biased to this era of trance than anything recent, these tunes closer in spirit to the Oakenfold Years than whatever it is we get these days. Yes, this is me saying the Oakenfold Years had some merit – even Armin believed so in his liner notes. Shame he all but ignores that now.

Der Dritte Raum - Spaceglider

Virgin/Ultra Records: 1998/1999

Of course I’d have Spaceglider in my collection (or Raumgleiter to the fine folks of Germanland). And I know what you’re thinking: I got this totally because of the cover, having no prior knowledge of who Der Dritte Raum is or even the famous tunes that came bundled within the album. Please, like I wouldn’t recognize “The Third Room” from his Harthouse days. Nor could I miss the omnipresent hits Hale Bopp and Polarstern, the two subdued hybrid anthems finding their way into numerous compilations, DJ sets, and the like. And why not, both tunes serving as perfect pieces for when a trance DJ wanted to go a little techno, or a techno DJ wanted to go a little trance – though it was almost always the former case. So naturally, upon discovering Der Dritte Raum was getting a new album out care of the Almighty Virgin (and promoted by Ultra in my lands), you bet I ordered a copy despite currently living in the hinterlands of Canada. I mean, just look at that cover! How could it not be cool?

Okay, buying Spaceglider truly was nothing but an impulse purchase based on nifty sci-fi artwork – at least I’m consistent. Having no actual prior knowledge of who Der Dritte Raum was wasn’t stopping my curiosity’s need to be sated. I had a feeling I’d be in safe hands though, the ordering promo blurb promising there’d be trance on this disc. At a time when trance had long abandoned its early cosmic themes and krautrock influences, seeing an album that implied some of those attributes within (Starship! Astronauts! German words!) gave me some hope I’d get the goods.

So imagine my fear upon hearing opening track Infrarot, a quirky bit of electro funk featuring a squawky sound like a robot beatboxing. Oh dear, what had I stumbled upon? True, genre dalliances was something Der Dritte Raum loved throwing about, even going proper-electro with Subraum and tech-house with a touch of jazzy swing in Tagnachtlied at the end of Spaceglider, all with mint results. Man though, was I fearing I’d landed in some IDM kitsch after that first cut.

Fear not, 1999 Sykonee, for it’s not long before Andreas Krüger is bringing all sorts of groovy techno and trance. As this is a mostly continuously mixed album, many tracks serve the needs for proper builds to Polarstern and Hale Bopp in that distinct, stripped-back, punctual Der Dritte Raum style, but always having enough strength to stand on their own too. Überdruck works a bit of acid funk, Irrfahrt bends its head down for some minimal action, and Lava fears not soaring into space on acid bliss. The main Spaceglider mix ends with more traditional techno before moving onto the aforementioned quirk tunes, making for a tidy album overall.

And quite a surprising one at that, Spaceglider resolutely old-school for a time when anything trance leaning demanded bigger and bolder. This would have been brilliant for 1994, but sounds bolder for 1998.

Benny Benassi - Rock'N'Rave (Original TC Review)

Ultra Records: 2008

(2015 Update:
I recall hating this, but upon re-listening to Benassi's sophomore effort, it wasn't as bad as I remember. Surely it was within the review itself that my bile had been expunged, snarky quips galore shot upon one of dirty electro's founding fathers. Nay, t'was not here either, generally positive things said even while remaining properly critical. Hell, I even gave some praise to I Am Not Drunk, and that song's awful. Maybe taking on a temporary douche-bro mindset truly does help in seeing things from the other side, an appreciation for the trashy dumb-fun aspect of club culture. That, or I suspected things would only get worse with the advent of disposable EDM in the following decade.

Speaking of, no surprise Benassi's hitched another wagon onto the festival anthem house scene. His recent singles could be any number of Guetta/Hardwell clones though, not even retaining the sleazy charm that marked his early work. Makes some of the tripe on this album come off far more original. Still, if you've got a hankering for the old Ed Banger 'maximal' sound, stick with Boyz Noise.)

IN BRIEF: Marginal satisfaction.

Oh dear, we aren’t actually going to do this, are we? Oh yes indeed we (or at least I) are (am). After so many months of giving the collective nu-electro house scene the thumbs down, we’re going ahead and reviewing the new album from the man that propelled the sound into the stratosphere of popular taste with his hit single Satisfaction. No good can come of this, right? Tsk, you wound us with your petty assumptions.

Thing is, most of our criticisms of the genre tend to fall upon the stagnant Swedish side of things, where farting basslines dominate; but we here at TranceCritic have remained rather neutral where Benassi and his sleazy side-chaining clones are concerned. Chalk it up to a kind of love-hate relationship with Benny: he has undoubtedly produced some fun house music, but due to his catering to the tastes of mainstream lowest common denominator, not much of it holds up when placed under scrutiny. Still, he knows his role, and we know he knows his role, so we often let his brand of nu-electro go; let him enjoy his success while the sound is hot.

Popular trends are fleeting, however, and a little over two years ago, when last we talked of Benassi [at TranceCritic], we predicted the sleazy side-chaining gimmick would be wearing out its welcome. Sure enough, Benassi's nu-electro has been usurped in clubbing circles for a thrashier trashier kind of sound, feeding off the arena rock vibes acts like Justice brought to the forefront of dance music. Never being one to innovate but always one to capitalize upon a hot trend, Benny’s hopped on this latest bandwagon, and offers us his second album titled Rock‘N’Rave.

And he (plus producing partner Alle Benassi, remaining in the background while his brother Benny’s grabs the spotlight) does whip up some suitably rowdy numbers that’ll work perfectly fine in your typical weekend club; however, when stacked against much of the dance-rock material released this past year, it pales in comparison. Far too much of it sounds like Benassi approximating what he figures to be the Ed Banger aesthetic, hitting you with blunt out-of-tune riffs permanently cranked into the red; sometimes it works (Rock‘N’Rave, U Move U Rock Me) but most of the time it’s a noisy annoyance - which has often been the main criticism of this genre right from the beginning anyway.

Benassi hasn’t completely abandoned his bread and butter, though, and whenever he brings the harlots and side-chaining out, the tracks surprisingly fare better. I Am Not Drunk, for example, is a fun bit of boozy-woozy hedonistic-dance indulgence. And then there’s My Body and Who’s Your Daddy, which prove Benassi a capable producer when he plays to a chick’s sense of tease. Unfortunately, they also have their problems: despite My Body’s fun rowdy nature, the side-chaining in its main melody is atrocious, some of the worst I’ve heard in a while; and compared to the original version of Who’s Your Daddy, this Pump-kin mix lacks spunk.

Still, those bratty girls are far more entertaining than most of the guest vocalists Benassi has brought in. Aside from Come Fly Away, which features euro-dancey pop lyrics courtesy of Channing complementing old-school rave riffs (sweet! ...until you realize the track doesn’t really go anywhere), it seems we’re in an emoting boy-band audition session. Good god, it’s bad enough we’ve been having to hear it in bad euro-trance, but now in dance-rock too? Enough already.

Ah, hell. I’m getting too critical over this music, aren’t I. That’s not the right frame of mind at all for Benassi’s type of music. Hold on a moment while I slip into something a little more suitable...

*Downs half-a-dozen jagerbombs; shot-guns a Rock Star; rails a line of blow off the ass of a trampy twenty-something gal wearing tacky sunglasses; spikes hair into frosted tips*

So, bro! This Benassi shit, man! Fuckin’ killer shit, eh bro? Oh fuck ya’, man! Listen to those fuckin’ FAT beats and... oh fuck! Dude!! Check out those two sluts fucking frenchin’, bro! That’s fucking AWESOME! Yeah, you go, bitches!! Wooooo!!!!! Oh, hey, bro! Benassi’s fucking the SHIT, man! Look how he gets those skanks wet and horny. Damn, I’m gonna get me some pussy tonight, I shit you not, bro! Benny Benassi, woooo!!! This shit’s off the HOOK!

Hey, bro, got any blow?

*sobers up*

Ugh, what happened? Where was I? Ah, right. Guest vocalists. If you like your male vocalists sounding overly emotional and earnest, you’ll probably enjoy the guys on Rock ‘N’ Rave. And I have to admit Shocking Silence isn’t too bad of an offering, even if it’s merely style-biting Marco V’s False Light.

The second disc is mostly remixes and some of Benassi’s ‘vs’ projects assembled together. None of the remixes are worth your time (Eclectic Strings is a dub of My Body, and sounding woefully inept without Mia's skanky vocals). The rest sounds like Benny’s attempt to replicate the success of Bring The Pain by capitalizing on some other current trends (classic house revivalism in the case of Black Box, and punky indie rock in the case of Iggy Pop); Bring The Pain actually is some fun, even if I can’t help but be reminded of Jason Nevins and Run DMC, but the other two are wholly unnecessary and uninspired reworks, making me just want to listen to the originals instead. Pretty much a toss-off, CD number two is.

So, perhaps this was to be expected after all. There’s no doubt Rock ‘N’ Rave has moments that’ll entertain, even if it’s mostly in a drunken-dumb kind of way. As an album, though, it isn’t the kind of thing you’ll be playing much from front-to-end. While you may whole-heartedly accept Benassi’s change of direction, his execution of it all sounds uncertain, as though he’s only doing this in order to keep up with contemporary clubbing consciousness. Whether his fanbase picks up on this remains to be seen but, in the long run, finding any kind of Satisfaction on here will be difficult. Oh yes, I went with the bad pun; deal with it, bro!

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

Deadmau5 - Random Album Title (Original TC Review)

Ultra Records: 2008

(2015 Update:
Ol' Joel's had himself a career since I wrote this, hasn't he? Mega-selling concerts, tabloid relationships, Grammy nominations, high rankings in popularity polls, superstar collaborations, and more dosh than a dead dinosaur (?). You know what hasn't changed though? (wait for it...) That. Darn. Clap! Ahahah! Hahaha! Hehhaahaha- Oh, he recently released some ambient music too. Well, that's pie on my ass.

Seriously though, every time I popped into his discography for a quick listen, I couldn't help but chuckle at how little Deadmau5' standard house-template ever changed. As easy it is to deride him for a lack of song-craft ability though, I suspect he's fully aware there's little point in showing some growth, the audience he's cultivated more interested in dazzling light shows and caustic social media diatribes than any actual music. It's taking Fatboy Slim's tongue-in-cheek "why try harder?" manifesto to its logical conclusion. Great for short term profitibility, sure, but small surprise Deadmau5', erm, 'true'-fans keep pointing to this album as his best. The hint of potential resonates here.)


IN BRIEF: A clap every second beat, guaranteed.

I admit it: I like his gimmick. Yes, you read that right –I like deadmau5’ costume gimmick. There’s just something about seeing a guy on stage with a giant mouse head that screams “rave!” How could it not be a trip to watch that live? Ever since DJs became the official ‘face’ of EDM, such odd examples of costumed performance sadly fell by the wayside, abandoning its counter-culture ideology in favor of mainstream acceptance. So, good on Joel Zimmerman for keeping that aspect of the live show going. To those who believe performing with a giant mouse head is silly, I say this –‘tis no less silly than Altern 8 performing with faux-bio-wear and masks, or Liam Howlett having a couple dancers prance around the stage, or Aphex Twin having a couple giant teddy bears prance around the stage, or Rabbit In The Moon doing… um, whatever it is they do on stage. Live PA needs more of this, not less.

He wouldn’t have gotten so widely popular with just a clever gimmick, though; no, deadmau5’ rapid success has a large part to do with the most valuable currency of the modern era: internet controversy. He is one of the very few producers who will actually argue against those who consistently slander his short career, getting involved with heated flame wars on prominent social media. Mind, despite the rarity, this isn’t something new, as Frankie Bones has done much the same for years now. Unfortunately, Joel lacks Bones’ scene savvy and Brooklyn wit, and the Toronto native’s tactless approach to public relations has left him much hated but frequently talked about. In this regard, deadmau5 is merely EDM's version of Soulja Boy.

Oh, and apparently he’s made a few popular tunes too, such that he’s become Beatport’s poster-boy. In the process, the music website handed out a bunch of awards to him, even if that’s like Ikea giving out awards for the furniture they sell. It’s been good for promotions, though, and the time came for Mr. Zimmerman to deliver a major label debut (well, relatively speaking; Ministry Of Sound/Ultra is major in terms of dance music).

And what’s on this randomly titled album? Claps. And claps. And claps. And claps. And claps. And claps. And claps. And claps. And claps. And… for fuck’s sakes, Joel, STOP WITH THE FUCKING CLAPS! On nearly every second beat, there’s a fucking clap (or snare/snap variation). Every fucking time. No variation at all. It quickly lodges inside your head and never lets up; even when it's somewhat tucked under the synths as a subtle snap, you can't escape it. And by being coupled with such plodding prog rhythms, deadmau5 proves himself to be amongst the whitest dance producers you’ll ever encounter. By three tracks in, it’s become comical; four tracks in, bad comedy; for the rest of the album, infuriatingly distracting.

So what, you counter, second-beat snares are common in music; it can be found in all kinds of genres. And you are right, as it provides rhythmic jump to any beat; however, its function is typically used as a supplement to the rhythm, whereas deadmau5 makes it his main feature. It’s as though he first copy and pastes the clap for several bars, then constructs the rest of his track around it; his claps are so prominent because they run the whole show.

Its omnipresence isn’t helped by the fact Joel’s such a fine technical producer. If he gets anything right, it’s his sense of audio dynamics – everything is wonderfully spaced and full-sounding without falling into over-compression traps plaguing many modern productions. Unfortunately, it also highlights the compounding problems with this album, in that despite having such crystal clear production, his music lacks creativity and soul; it all blends together into one long trudge through generic tech-prog, with the only thing ever sticking to mind being that damned clap.

Even after a dozen listens through, there are only bits and pieces of other stuff I can recall: some tech sections that blandly drone; a couple bouncy basslines; ominous atmospherics here and there; a dull breathy female vocal somewhere in the middle (crossover attempt!); a robotic voice early-on saying “sometimes things get complicated,” surely an ironic foreshadow regarding his beats; repeated uses of the delayed synth 8th notes that he made so popular; some melancholic noodly piano bits; noisy effects-laden builds; blessedly, none of his hideous ‘electro’ r-r-rr-rrrRIPP fart stuff. Arguru in particular stands out, as it features the least amount of clap in its beats (the track’s drop after the build is pretty ace too). Ask me to actually hum back any kind hook or melody from this album, though, and all I’ll be able to offer you are steady plodding hand-claps.

Did Joel realized just how ridiculous hearing the same clap all the way through his album sounds? Did he even bother to give it a good listen over? Sure, he’s gone on record as saying he didn’t put much effort into it, merely slapping on his big hits and padding it out with some new stuff for a DJ mix, but by doing so he shoots himself in the foot (probably once every second beat). deadmau5 has long been criticized for being samey-sounding and lacking in any kind of musical intuitiveness, an accusation that honestly doesn’t have much merit when you hear his tracks in isolation or as a part of a DJ set; any of these tracks are fine individually. Lined up all together as they are here, though, and how can you not agree with the naysayers? That clap… it’s like Chinese water torture, but instead of a constant drip… drip… drip… eating away at your head, you have a constant clap… clap… clap… eating away at your brain. It annoys. It grates. It torments. It claps. It claps. It claps. It claps. It claps. It claps. It claps…

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

Ferry Corsten - Passport: United States Of America (Original TC Review)

Ultra Records: 2007

(2014 Update:
Was I ever prophetic with my quip of "blink and you'll miss it", Passport folding after this one, only the second in the series. Not sure why Corsten canned it so quickly. Maybe it didn't do the business he'd hoped, or it was simply a short-term flirtation with a concept. Whatever the case, he established his Once Upon A Night series a few years after this, which is now up to its fourth volume and remains his regular DJ Mix CD franchise. As far as I can tell though, it receives even less notice than Passport did, but then most of his fans follow his Corsten Countdown radio shows anyway.

As for this CD, I think I was a bit too hard on the euro-trance offerings in the second half of the CD. While I maintain they weren't doing much new for the time, compared to where the genre's gone, these are perfectly enjoyable pieces of melodic fluff. Guess I was still in my 'anti epic-trance' grumble-mode when I wrote this, though at least more diplomatic and detailed in explaining such sentiments compared to my 2006 writings. That said, I doubt I'll be throwing this one on again for a very long time. Why should I, when I have all those In Trance We Trust CDs from the same period? Hah-hah... ha!)


IN BRIEF: Workmanlike in every regard.

For a guy who almost single-handily propelled trance music into public consciousness, Ferry Corsten remained relatively humble. His Trance Nation series helped established the genre as the soundtrack for a generation of clubbers, yet he never overreached his ability, quite content remaining in a comfortable, competent niche. This may in part have to do with the fact he’s largely considered himself a producer first and a DJ second, so the desire to earn the accolades of the DJing elite never became a focus of his career.

With that in mind, most of his mix compilations in recent years haven’t been met with the same amount of fanfare as his musical peers. This new series, Passport, is as indicative of this as anything. Already out for a month, America has a feeling of ‘blink, and you’ll miss it’ about. There are a number of contributing factors for this, but let’s deal with the most important one here: the music.

Straight up, this is a remarkably monotonous collection of music considering Corsten’s name is attached to it. Whether it’s trance or nu-electro, the guy can always be counted on for party rockers, and such moments are few on this release. Divided into two, the first half leaves the impression he’s mellowed out, proggin’ up his sound like many of the older trance jocks did when they shifted genres. Not that he’s ever played this style before, but it certainly isn’t what he’s known for, and to dedicate a large portion of this DJ mix to it is surprising.

Let me be clear, though: this isn’t prog like Bedrock or Global Underground - more like the lightweight stuff Gabriel & Dresden popularized a few years back, and really has no official designation [it does now! –2014 Syk]. It’s too sluggish to be trance, too unfunky to be house, and too pap to be prog proper. So it remains in prog limbo, derided as McProg and jumped on by epic trance jocks when they want to play something ‘deep’.

But deep it is not. Unremarkable rhythms, trite poppy vocals, and scant melodies are to be found instead. Solarstone’s Late Summer Fields is nice enough and Mind One’s Hurt Of Intention has a rather catchy chorus, but most of these tracks plod along, with Nic Chagall’s remix of Wippenberg’s Promisedland being the worst offender. I swear the Cosmic Gate member is on a one-man mission to turn prog into a lifeless parody of itself.

If the mix didn’t grab your attention for most of the opening chunk, then Megashira definitely will. It contains a hook that is so hideous, it’s stoopid-good; like an amped-up hoover synth. I can see why Corsten would want to use this, as it sounds like the kind of thing he might have made himself lately.

From there, Corsten segues into trancier tunes. The good news is the atmosphere of Passport does turn more pleasant; the bad news is the set barely picks up at all. This isn’t so much a case of laid-back vibes keeping things mellow - which would be fine - but rather Corsten’s track selection and arrangement is middling: predictable melodies, perfunctory mixing, oodles of reverb and breakdowns. The same ol’ story with most trance these days, really. If you’re new to it all or still cling to 2001 nostalgia, you’ll love it; for everyone else, it’ll sound all too familiar.

Actually, very familiar in two cases. The new Flashover remix of Insolation is the obvious example but Casey Keyworth’s The Sunlight (as Breakfast) is the startling one. During the two-minute breakdown/build - amongst a wash of reverb effects - a backing synth pad plays a nice melody that strikes an uncanny resemblance to Robert Nickson’s Spiral of three years ago. Supposedly they were both written around the same time and the similarity is entirely coincidental, but fact of the matter is Spiral has had bigger exposure in that time, whereas The Sunlight only now has seen an official release on Ferry’s label. That’s how the ball bounces in the music business though.

As for the rest of Passport, there are a few fine moments: Corsten’s contributions shine compared to the rest, proving he’s still better at this sound than everyone that has copied him since; and Joni Ljungqvist (aka: JPL) continues to show promise at making trance that is actually trance-inducing. Beyond that, there’s very little else of note.

Now, don’t take my indifferent tone to mean this is a bad release. Ferry maintains an amiable tone to the proceedings, making Passport at least an agreeable listen. However, if you’re looking for something that will knock your socks off with energy or sweep you away in euphoria (much less be mesmerized by actual DJ technique), you’ve come to the wrong CD. This is a mix that doesn’t reach far, quite content to let the tracks on Ferry’s label be the centerpieces (of which about a third makes up the tracklist), complemented with a few well-known tunes to pad it out with the filler. Sadly, judging by the offerings on America, the current crop of Flashover Recordings probably won’t be much remembered a couple years down the road, lost in the annual pile of melodic trance glut.

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

Sasha & John Digweed - Northern Exposure: Expeditions

Ultra Records: 1999

The growing marketability of double-disc DJ mixes must have finally convinced Ultra to treat these Northern Exposures properly, no longer releasing each CD separately. What I think, however, is INCredible, who took over the series’ distribution from Ministry Of Sound, wasn’t gonna’ put up with Ultra’s bullshit, and strong-armed the upstart EDM label into releasing Expeditions right. Okay, probably not, but its amusing thinking of the Sony sub-division as having that sort of clout.

What they couldn’t prevent was yet another label-rights complication, this time removing Fade’s remix of Delerium’s Silence from the American version. And you know what, I ain’t even mad. I didn’t know it was part of the mix until Lord Discogs told me so (the Lord knows all), so as far as I’m concerned, hearing the I Know You Love Me Too vocal emerge within Belfast’s gnarly acid breakdown always made sense. I don’t need McLachlan replacing what’s-her-voice in Chris Raven’s cut.

The fact Silence’s removal from the American Northern Exposure: Expeditions is such a talking point sums up where general consensus over this volume of Sasha and John Digweed’s celebrated series rests. Like most third acts of a trilogy, the hype and excitement surrounding these two CDs had dwindled compared to the previous ones, the market for DJ mixes growing ever more overstuffed by 1999. Misters Coe and Diggers still carried their high pedigree, sure, but their mixes on Global Underground were considered of greater value than this one. Heck, the two were essentially on their divergent paths now, so why even still do Northern Exposure? Did they have an outstanding contract for a third? Did INCredible really want a piece of the progressive trance pie that bad?

Regardless, two moments place Expeditions as solid entrants into progressive trance's canon. The second disc alone could almost serve as one itself, the gradual build showcasing the genre's strengths over the course of an hour-plus long CD, capping it all off with the unabashedly euphoric Tekara Remix of Mike Koglin's The Silence. Its remarkable Sasha & Diggers included such an uplifting tune, the sort of track Oakenfold and his ilk preferred. Putting it at the end of the tough trance business that came before it though, makes it all the sweeter when it does hit.

Even better is the opening of CD1, featuring a lengthy blend of Breeder's Tyrantanic and two versions of Space Manoeuvres' Stage One. I could go on for a whole review just how brilliant John Graham's debut side project was, but I gotta' save something for whenever I get around to Oid. As for setting the tone for Expeditions, its equally brilliant, hinting at high-flying space breaks to follow. Unfortunately, CD1 doesn't reach that peak again, but it's interesting hearing proto-prog psy at the end with Blue Planet Corporation. Oh the places Sasha could have gone had he followed that muse instead.

Meanwhile, Northern Exposure: Expeditions is a worthy finish to the series, despite mostly abandoning its original premise to do so.

Sasha & John Digweed - Northern Exposure 2: Westcoast Edition

Ultra Records: 1997/1998

Ah, that's what Ultra Records was scheming: split Northern Exposure into two separate releases, reaping a little extra coinage in the process. Either that, or they didn't have faith in the American market springing for a double-disc DJ mix – it was a different era, after all. While I don't begrudge Ultra for selling us Eastcoast and Westcoast separate (well, aside that finding mint copies of Eastcoast can be stupid hard and expensive now), but I just discovered they removed the 'track map' inlays Ministry Of Sound included with their versions. I had no idea these even existed, and are such an awesome thing to have, displaying exactly the sort of mixing and layering Sasha and Digweed did in the studio to make these CDs the timeless beasts they are. Boo, Ultra, boo!

As for why I have Westcoast (aka: “the Digweed mix”) over Eastcoast (aka: “the Sasha mix”, though neither exclusively did either), my fine trance sensibility lured me to the classic vibes of the early German sound, with-

Oh, fine, it’s because this was always the easier one to find on shelves. Eastcoast was quite popular, if nothing else than for introducing the concept of ‘trancey breaks’ into the progressive house scene, making it a go-to CD whenever folks wanted, erm, a break from regular ol’ trance. Matters weren’t helped by Westcoast’s choices for up-front tuneage, some tracks becoming near-overplayed anthems soon after. Taucher’s Waters was on dozens of mixes alone, and they wouldn’t come saddled with ‘old, boring trance’ in the beginning either.

Now that we’re over a decade removed from the endless anthem era, folks have come to appreciate the subtlety of Westcoast’s opening half. Such blissy vibes you can float on with Humate’s 3.2 and The Light’s Panfried; or proto-prog moodiness with Orbit and Spooky’s remix of Sven Väth’s An Accident In Paradise. It even makes all the ‘big choons’ in the second half come off a tad dated to the time, thoughts of Oakenfold Cream nights rushing forth rather than chill off-nights at Heaven. Did anyone even remember that was Northern Exposure’s premise anymore, spotlighting unheralded music from the back ends of Sasha and Digweed’s record crates? Then again, I doubt anyone could have predicted Transa’s Enervate would go on to be such a caned track in the ensuing years.

I don’t have much else to say about Northern Exposure 2: Westcoast Edition that isn’t common knowledge at this point. Yeah, yeah, it’s funny seeing an Armin van Buuren track as the closer of a Sasha-plus-Johnny mix, but Blue Fear’s a nice little number all things considered – Hell, Netherworld’s more of an obvious anthem than that one, and Oliver Lieb’s God. If it exists at an affordable rate, getting the original Ministry Of Sound double-disc version’s still the way to go, but this one’s not a bad pick-up on the used market either. It bridges two eras of trance with class, with all the tasty studio-perfect flow we expect of a Sasha & Diggers CD.

Sasha & John Digweed - Northern Exposure

Ultra Records: 1996/1997

While not the daftest idea for a mix CD, it certainly was unprecedented at the time. Starting an off club-night in the north lands of England featuring the chiller side of dance music was all fine and dandy, but getting a promotional tie-in release fronted by the emergent Ministry Of Sound was just ludicrous. Unless, of course, it's Sasha and f'n Digweed running the night, the hottest DJing duo in UK. Well shit, son, give the boys what they need (studio time, record rights, and that), and watch the money roll into the coffers!

Though the impetus for Northern Exposure coming into being's now relegated to a mere footnote, the impact the series had on purveyors of progressive house has not, many citing this CD as one of the all time greats. Listening to it nearly two decades since it dropped, it can come off a bit dated and quaint in terms of genre (so many ethnic chants), but in offering sublime musical moments, Northern Exposure remains top grade.

A major reason for this is Sasha & Diggers weren’t making a traditional DJ set; rather, Northern Exposure opts for the mixtape route, showing off older tracks that’d likely never get a live rinse-out. Really, that was the premise behind the club-night too, but since few even knew of it (I don’t think it lasted long), most folks figured this was Sash-el-‘Weed getting all conceptual and shit in a growing mix CD market. Like, whoa, The Future Sound of London, Rabbit In The Moon, and Banco de Gaia all on one disc? What is this, another ‘ambient house’ collection? Nah, guy, it’s a future-classic DJ mix, is what.

Truth is, ambient house/techno/dub/beat compilations were about the only places you’d find such names on a non-album CD, the market for chill-out mixes almost non-existent in the mid-‘90s. To have tunes like Cascade, Raincry, and Water From A Vine Leaf (Xylem Flow Mix) as part of a flowing DJ set was rare, and primarily the domain of deep underground releases (likely bootleg tapes at that). The Sash’Weed pedigree opened many a younger listener’s ears to a field of electronic music you just wouldn’t find on the mainstream market, and that ‘first exposure’ experience helped cement Northern Exposure’s classic status. It didn’t hurt Misters Coe and Digweed’s selection and arrangement of tracks here was impeccable. The Raincry-into-Out Of Body Experience portion’s long considered the highlight of the whole series, though Northern Exposure: Expeditions has one up for consideration too.

As for CD2, well... I don’t have it. Hell, I haven’t even heard it, despite a stream being easily found on the interwebs (I savour its mystique). Ultra Records, who handled the American distribution of Northern Exposure, continuously fumbled these mixes, their first erroneous behaviour the removal of 0°/South from this release. Maybe it was label rights complications, but I see little on that disc that couldn’t be solved with an edit or two. Maybe they felt having ‘south’ in the title defeated the concept?

Tiësto - Elements Of Life (Original TC Review)

Ultra Records: 2007

(2013 Update:
Proving the old adage it's never so bad that it can't get worse, it's the last album Tiësto produced during his trance era. Oh, if folks only knew what was to come. I suppose he should be given some credit for attempting to branch out into 'minimal' (yes, 2007 Sykonee, that really was what passed for the sound that year), but his old fans totally rejected it and true minimal heads pointed and laughed. Small wonder Mr. Verwest threw up his hands and abandoned all remaining credibility, fleeing to the welcoming embrace of pure commercialized cheese. Hey, at least he finally broke America in a proper fashion that way.

Oh, and I don't know why I was so hard on Bright Morningstar. It's actually one of the better tunes off here. Yeah yeah, I could be an insufferable twat back then, but Tiësto's a goofy twat, so there's synergy.)


IN BRIEF: That’s it?

Having accomplished so much this decade, it’s hard to imagine Mr. Tijs Verwest could achieve more, but the Dutch superstar DJ rarely backs down from a challenge: popularity polls, stadium gigs, Olympics, even Disneyland have been conquered. As a result though, his actual musical output has become secondary to all these large achievements, and folks are far more interested in what his Next Big Stunt will be instead. Sponsorship of Microsoft’s inevitable iPod knock-off? An entire clothing and cologne line? The first DJ to play on the moon? It places quite the expectation upon him to deliver what his hype demands.

Even so, although it may be unfair to judge Tijs’ music in this context, you cannot escape the fact the name Tiësto has come to represent dance music excess. And like many similar pop stars, he is counted upon to deliver on those grounds - as an example, Madonna always seems to make a comeback every time she returns to her dance-pop strengths after periods of unwanted artistic indulgence. Fans put stars in their positions because they deliver what the fans want, and few are going to buy a new Tiësto album if he doesn’t deliver big trance-pop moments with theatrics to spare.

It is therefore with a surprising lack of such bombast Mr. Verwest has delivered his third album titled Elements Of Life. Oh, not in the hype department: his PR machine has done plenty there. Rather, the music contained on here is decidedly lacking in execution. Far too much sounds like going through the motions, and repeated listens reveal less and less each time.

The first couple tracks get things on the right foot, mind. Opener Ten Minutes Before Sunrise is a pretty piece of mellow trance, and sets the mood nicely. Follow-up Everything builds upon that with a groovy rhythm and catchy vocal hooks by Jes Brieden of Motorcycle fame. Once again, she supplies thinly disguised lyrics about being on ecstasy (“Everything sounds better/Everything looks brighter/Everything tastes better/Everything you do feels better”) ...heh, maybe. It could just as easily be about love, but c’mon! Why wouldn’t she go for drug innuendo again when that was one of the biggest charms of As The Rush Comes?

When Mr. Verwest tries a stab at ‘minimal’ though is where things begin to sound suspect. Yes, those are apostrophes around the word, so Do You Feel Me and Carpe Noctrum really aren’t minimal, despite Tiësto’s claims to the contrary. Try deep house for the former, super-simple techno for the latter, and both lacking the nuances minimal proper is known for. Still, though they scream of trend jumping, they’re satisfactory offerings nonetheless.

Unfortunately, Elements Of Life seems to completely run out of interesting ideas from here on out.

Skipping Driving To Heaven since it has ‘filler’ written all over it (it abruptly ends after a rote looping synth build), we enter the BT section of Elements Of Life. Now, there was lots of excited talk about having Mr. Transeau collaborate with Mr. Verwest on this album, many figuring BT’s epic musical masterpieces from the past would influence the Dutch DJ’s sonic palette. Sadly, we get ‘pop’ BT instead: great production but predictable melodies, many of which amount to little and are forgotten shortly after. It’s like the most MOR of euro-dance with far more studio work done than is necessary. Sweet Things does have a catchy chorus, mind, but little else. Meanwhile Bright Morningstar is just a step above filler, and Break My Fall with BT himself on vocal duties could have been any number of toss-off euro-dance fluff pieces from the mid-90s.

And then there’s In The Dark, the lead single with a bunch of hullabaloo over it as Tiësto’s big attempt to grab the holy grail of dance music: breaking America. According to him, this is the kind of track U2 would produce if they made dance music. Um, no, Tijs. U2 already made dance music, it was called Discoteque, remember? And this sounds nothing like Discoteque. In The Dark is like any other regular euro pop trance tune, but with more of the ‘emo singer’ spin on it that’s becoming common in dance lately. And he’s genuinely calling this ‘rocktronic’? A term that’s more of a chin-stroker’s joke to describe electronic music with rock overtones? (LCD Soundsystem, Infadels, Primal Scream... this is ‘rocktronic’, if such an official term ever existed) I thought his buzzword jumping was already laughable with ‘minimal’ - this is beyond comical.

If you’ve resisted becoming cynical to this album up to this point, the final stretch will break even the most dedicated fanboy. Dance4Life - Tiësto’s cheap Faithless knock-off - may have had good intentions when he made it, but like so many pop stars doing charity, the sincerity of it is severely questioned when he pumps so much money into concerts dedicated to himself. And the title track itself? It’s ridiculous bombast, looping a Bach melody with different synth patches until the melody itself is distorted beyond anything listenable - Spinal Tap would have been proud, as Tiësto certainly seems to be trying to crank the effects to eleven.

It doesn’t bode well for the album when the bonus track, He’s A Pirate, is one of the more enjoyable songs to be heard, as that’s a rather average trance tune to begin with (though I do admit I kind of enjoy music where the buckles swash). Does Tiësto figure his name is big enough that he can get away with only the most basic tenets of dance music and shift oodles of units? He may be famous, but not that famous.

Maybe his touring schedule doesn’t leave him enough time to concentrate on his studio work anymore. Maybe he’s guessing the only way to break America is to dumb down his formula. Or maybe even he too realizes that his music will always be secondary to his stunts now that his star has gotten so big, and there is no reason to put much effort into it when the simplest will suffice.

Whatever the reason, Elements Of Life is ultimately a mediocre dance release. There are moments that will entertain but all too often the end results are anti-climatic and stale. Save your money and go see his concerts instead for your Tiësto-endorsed entertainment.

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.

Roger Sanchez - Come With Me (Original TC Review)

Ultra Records: 2006

(2012 Update:
Wow, is this ever a dated review, but then anything over half a decade old now probably will be. This came out just before the Swedish House explosion properly took off, so Sanchez' brand of NY garage-house still had success. Within a year though, he was tapping electro house remixers for follow-up singles, then his own output dried up. Guess he couldn't keep up with house music's changing tastes. Still, this remains a fun album, girlie as all hell though it may be. There's a degree of class to be had here that often lacks in SHM's material, and I'd sooner strike up a conversation with a lady that vibes on this music instead of anything Steve Angello puts out.)


IN BRIEF: Music for the missus.

The last couple times New York-based DJ Roger Sanchez came to my humble little Canadian city, the results have been chaotic ...at least in terms of ticket sales. It seems, due to the high demand of Sanchez’ presence, the nights either get oversold, super-scalped, or draw a much bigger crowd our typical Granville Strip clubs can handle (The Commodore exempt of course), causing premature shutdowns or clusterfuck line-ups. You would think such mismanaged organizing would swear folks off from seeing another Sanchez show, and save themselves the stress of dealing with it again. I’m willing to bet, though, it will happen on this next visit, and all those who swore “never again” will go through it again. Seeing Roger live has become the equivalent of super-fancy shooters for his Vancouver fans: quite costly, very tasty, and no matter how much you suffer from them, you’ll still indulge again when given the chance.

Wait, that’s not entirely accurate. One other factor, one very important factor, contributes to Sanchez being the draw he is: da laydeez; lots and lots of young, flirtatious womenfolk. Roger’s reputation for great club nights in New York is world renown, and many gals abroad would love to have a taste of his slick city style. He’s become an ambassador of sorts of the Big Apple’s mysticism: going to a Sanchez night is akin to going to a fancy Manhattan club, and many urban girlie girls jump at the chance to live out a Sex In The City-esque night, even if only in spirit. Naturally, where the women go, the men follow.

With Sanchez’ second album - Come With Me - I get the suspicion Roger’s clued into where his biggest audience lies. While he’s always had a club-friendly appeal, it’s usually been balanced with house music tapped from the source: a funk thing, a soul thing, a spiritual thing, a yada yada etc. This album does away with most of that, aiming straight for the glitzy expensive clubs, and those who attend such venues -specifically, da laydeez.

Pop quiz: what kind of music does your typical clubbing minx enjoy the most? Easy answer: pick up any Hed Kandi release, or Ultra House Hits, or A Trip In House, or.. Well, you get the point. Basically, house music with fun vocal hooks and groovy rhythms; although not too complicated so she’ll embarrassingly stumble while drunkenly dancing. From beginning to end, Roger delivers those sorts of tracks on Come With Me, in a variety of flavors.

Lyrically, most stick to predictable themes. If a gal is singing, it’s about failed relationships, break-ups, or being flirty on a dancefloor. If Sanchez is singing (sometimes with a featured guest), it’s with smooth, sexy come-ons. Yeah, not much for the guys to dig here.

Musically, Sanchez brings a nice, if safe, assortment of style. Amongst the sort of clubby disco you’d expect from vocal heavy house, there’s also soul and Latin influences to be found, especially in the second half; plus, a Bhangra inspired track with Take A Chance. While none of it breaks new ground, it is all finely produced, and perfectly effective for the targeted environment.

Of course, appealing to the fairer sex is all fine and good, but is there anything on this the male-folk can listen to without feeling like his nuts have been chopped off? (Er... not that men can’t relate to themes of broken hearts and past relationships; it’s just usually done in a different tone when targeted towards them)

Well, opener track Turn On The Music aims to be a rabble-rousing party starter for anyone in the club, and while the hook has some catchiness at points, the whole of it unfortunately sounds flat given its intentions. Sanchez’ spoken-word recounts of bad luck in Again works well for both sexes, although it does come across more for the gals. And the blissy, Ibizan-tinged Soledad is fine either way, simply produced for chill-out situations.

That’s about it though. While the guys can still groove to these and enjoy them on a purely aesthetic level, I honestly can’t see many playing this at home unless they are entertaining their female friends in a pre-clubbing drink session. There’s very little here a house-head laying back, noggin noddin’ with Sennheiser headphones, will get out of Come With Me, as the song-writing aims for a very specific demographic: one that isn’t too interested in clever beats or innovative hooks. This’ll probably disappoint long-time Sanchez fans, as they’ve come to expect more from him than pure pop accessibility.

A sell-out? Perhaps, but as far as cross-over house music is concerned, Come With Me succeeds in its goals. Sanchez has delivered music that is certain to appeal to the ladies with sexy flair and simple fun wrapped in a slick presentation. Can’t fault it for that.