Faithless - Sunday 8PM

Arista: 1998

I know I'm supposed to declare Sunday 8PM the only Faithless album you're supposed to have, even if you're not a Faithless fan. It is, after all, the best of their discography, an excellent summation of the group's musical talents, nary a duff track in the lot, and all that good rot. Doing so, though, sells the importance of Insomnia on Reverence way short. I can guarantee there wouldn't be a Faithless as we’ve come to know them without the success of that single. Rollo and Sister Bliss would likely have retreated to other pet projects, absent of critical kudos, legions of fans, and piles of money-cash. Insomnia was so big, everyone doubted they could have topped it, and the debate still lingers whether God Is A DJ does the deed or not.

Still, Reverence was the experiment, everyone working together to see if their vision could work. Lo’, they succeeded, but having spent such a brief amount of time on it (a month!), what could they do with more prep and production? The answer is Sunday 8PM, an album that takes everything that made Reverence such a charming excursion and refines them into a wonderful whole.

You’ve got the chill-out instrumental opener The Garden fusing all sorts of influences like trip-hop, acoustic folk, and cinematic dub. You got rugged conscious hip-hop fused with melancholic orchestras on Bring My Family Back. There’s crackly folk-hop Postcards, which actually samples a Dido song released that same year rather than cut another vocal for the track – guess Rollo couldn’t help being efficient there. Why Go? goes for the full soul croon, which I thought was sung by Faithless’ still-employed soul-croon extraordinaire Jamie Catto. Silly me, he’s on the gospel-hop Hour Of Need, whereas that silly-hatted DJ Boy George gets the vocal on Why Go?. Elsewhere, Dido gets an actual song for herself in Hem Of His Garment, while Maxi Jazz throws in another sexy song with She’s My Baby. His shining moment on this album though, is Killer’s Lullaby, a chilling tale of sinister thoughts and deeds. The production on this track is positively stunning, starting with a soft, unassuming ambient session, then unleashing harsh trip-hop weirdness, and hitting a climax of cascading harpsichords and apocalyptic choirs, ending with a final, quiet denouement. Holy descent into madness, Batman!

Oh, and there’s two smashing club anthems in here too, God Is A DJ, and Take The Long Way Home. You’ve heard them, especially the former. I don’t need to talk about them as much.

Another feature of Sunday 8PM that trumps Reverence is just how well it flows together, including partial mixes between some tracks. The first Faithless album had good flow too, but this one’s sequence is sublime, shifting moods from introspective to exuberant, from harrowing to jubilant. It’s definitely one that deserves the full play-through treatment, though any track stands strong on its own too. Yes, even that titular sonic doodle in the back half. That bass pitch, mang!

Faithless - No Roots

Arista: 2004

Faithless had to know they needed a shakeup. The various members weren't feeling the synergy quite so strong as the years wore on, other pet projects taking their time away from being one of the biggest bands in the UK (huh, that sounds familiar). They had enough built-in good will with their fans that stretching their musical ability wouldn't alienate many anyway, so why not try something different while the opportunity was there? It's not like it'd abruptly end the group. Haha... eh, well...

Still, No Roots was popular enough, earning Faithless their first number one album on the UK charts. It’s mind-boggling that they never accomplished it with any previous LP. You’d think at least Sunday 8PM or even Outrospective would have climbed that high since those had much bigger singles in their favour (the group was still too ‘underground’ in their Reverence years). Generally speaking, Outrospective did have better success abroad, but most of the world had moved on from Faithless by 2004, whereas their native land still had much love for them (for a couple more years anyway).

No Roots may not have garnered the same mass appeal as their previous albums, but I wager this is Faithless’ best album-album after Sunday 8PM. Though the group dared to blend genres few others would in their previous LPs, their old formula was getting all too predictable. Here’s the trip-hop conscious track with Maxi Jazz. Here’s the Big Obvious Club Anthem. Here’s the world-weary folksy singer song. Here’s the Dido guest spot. Here’s the other Big Obvious Club Anthem. Here’s the other trip-hop conscious track with Maxi Jazz. Here’s the quirky track. Here’s the blissy instrumental. Hey, it was a very effective way to arrange an album, but doing the same thing three times in a row seems self-defeating for a group known for their dynamic musical abilities.

No Roots opts for a different, erm, route. You still have the same markers, but they’re blended into the flow of the album far more effectively. Heck, the entire record flows wonderfully between tracks, making the whole thing come off like one long song. Example: after the rousing build of I Want More (the first of the Big Club Anthem on here, though not as Obvious as prior hits), the drop into chipper, jazz-hoppy Love Lives On My Street is hardly forced, sounding as natural a follow-up as anything could. Another significant change to No Roots is the inclusion of LSK, providing an urban R&B croon in contrast to the khaki-clad style prior guest singers had (Jamie Catto, Boy George).

Elsewhere on the album, you get deep house (Sweep, Miss U Less, See U More), classy clubbier stuff (What About Love), acid ambient (Pastoral), and a little rock action too (Swingers) among the dependable trip-hop tracks. Plenty of reprisals throughout too, adding to the sense No Roots was designed with a full play-through in mind. Listen to a Faithless album in full? *gasp* No skipping to the hits for you, pal.

Faithless - Reverence

Cheeky/Arista: 1996/1997

Given all that we’ve come to adore about Faithless, the wild genre hopping on their debut album doesn’t seem so daft anymore. Why of course they’d go from handbag house to gospel folk to trip-hop bop – it’s what they do! On the other hand, electronic music’s seen nearly two decades of deconstruction since, rendering Reverence more of a novel dip into uncharted dance waters than anything astoundingly shocking or ground-breaking. Come to think of it, it’s not like the album was that far removed from the liberal dance-fusion going on in the UK earlier in the ‘90s either. Tell me what Faithless had that groups like Stereo MC’s, 808 State, or Primal Scream didn’t have. Oh, right, those super epic house anthems. Okay, two things. Oh, right, a brilliant producer in Rollo. Okay, three- y’know what, forget it.

As the mid-'90s rolled on, Rollo and Sister Bliss were already a prominent tandem within UK clubland, but the duo felt they were capable of more than kicking out singles for amyl house heads. They also suspected the audiences that fist-pumped to their tunes on the weekend might enjoy a slower, relaxed vibe when chilling at home. And they be right, trip-hop gaining all sorts of critical and commercial traction at the time. No surprise that YOLO-Rollo and Madame Bliss would throw their hats into that lucrative pile, but they lucked out in landing a chill, conscious-leaning MC with an incredible amount of spiritual charisma. Wait, how is that lucky? Maxi Jazz' style of lyrical manifestation should have fallen flat on its face in an era of gangsta' boasting, yet punters quite enjoyed his laid-back words of wisdom and anecdotes.

Then there’s the other half of Faithless’ vocals, Jamie Catto. Most know him these days as Who’sThatNow?, but way back in the group’s formation, he was just as vital a component to the Faithless sound as your Maxis and Didos. He provided a husky, soulful croon that complemented Rollo and Bliss’ dalliances into R&B and gospel, making songs like Don’t Leave and Angelina all the more powerful for it. Wow, considering I was kinda’ blasé about his songs when I first played Reverence, I never thought I’d miss his presence in later Faithless albums. Guess it helps to grow an appreciation for music outside the easy ear-candy of plucky stadium house bangers like Salva Mea and Insomnia.

Was that the plan all along, woo in the clubbed-up caners with a pair of undeniable anthems, then drop serious music education on them when they buy the album? Mr. Armstrong and Ms. Bentovim never claimed as such, merely making the tunes that captured their interest (in less than a month, no less!) and letting the chips fall where they may. The duo sound just as surprised by Reverence’s two-fold success in interviews, though they must have suspected they had something unique going for them. The only fault with this LP I can make is Faithless had yet to realize their full potential.

Various - Radikal Techno (Original TC Review)

Quality Music: 1992

(2015 Update:
"Objective straight-faced criticism"? What does that even mean? And, oh-ho-ho, shame on you, 2008 Sykonee, for even suggesting every review you wrote was truly objective. I'd tried toeing the 'hard but fair' line most of the time, but there were plenty instances of throwing any supposed objectivity out the window in favor of a long-winded rant or gush. Ah well, at least I get to wear all my biases in plain view for this blog, and not rely on lengthy opening paragraphs explaining away such changes in writing tone.

There's two things I neglected mentioning regarding the Radikal Techno series that I may as well bring up now. 1. The name comes from the record label that released most of these tunes, Radikal Records, a New Jersey print that specialized in commercial dance singles from Europe - Quality Music handled their Canadian distribution, hence why I've so many of their CDs. 2. Radikal Techno actually lasted for a good decade, reaching a sixth edition featuring the likes of ATB, Cosmic Gate, and Brooklyn Bounce. Of course, by that time, Quality Music had long-since folded, so it was a case of Radikal Records using the name of a compilation series promoting their material created by another label. And I've gone cross-eyed.)

IN BRIEF: They don’t make ‘em like this anymore.

I tried. Really, I did. As much as I’d love to dive into this Random Review with all the objective straight-faced criticism I approach any other release, the history I personally have with this compilation makes it incredibly difficult. You see, my friends, this simple little release titled Radikal Techno is the second CD I ever owned. It’s survived accidents, theft during parties, drunken vandalism during parties, transportation from a number of different homes, and desperate pawn-shop plundering during periods of destitution, yet has remained in remarkable condition during it all.

“So what?” you say. “It’s just an old CD with a bunch of early 90s techno on it; not like it’s some rare original 7" Cybotron record.” True, but as anyone who has had a habit of coddling their music for years can attest to, such nurturing inhibits objective perspectives of the actual material on display.

Fact is, I still enjoy Radikal Techno. Yes, some of the production is hopelessly dated (there are frequent uses of the oh-so cutting edge Stereo-Pan Effect). Yes, some of the crappier trends in techno of the early ‘90s are present. And yes, I completely agree my continued enjoyment of this CD could simply be attributed to fuzzy warm nostalgia. Yet nor could I pass this off to an associate of mine to get their objective opinions of it because pretty much everyone I know quite enjoys the old school. And shouldn’t that be enough to convince you, the reader, that Radikal Techno has more going for it than starry-eyed trips down memory lane? Just look at some of these cuts!

For sure, there are overly familiar names here: 2 Unlimited, Age Of Love, Human Resource, Joey Beltram... and that’s just what anyone with basic background of electronic music should recognize. However, with the exception of Age Of Love, where Jam & Spoon’s remix would go on to see endless compilation duty in the years to come (I don’t think anyone in ‘92 could have predicted that), Radikal Techno offers some true rarities from them. The Two Little Boys remix of Twilight Zone plays around with those famous hooks, providing a funkier spin for the underground to appreciate. Rush To The Rhythm, a track featuring super-fast breaks, raps, and cut’n’paste production, is one of Beltram’s more obscure releases. And Glitch’s long-forgotten remix of Dominator is stellar, bringing blistering techno beats to this hoover anthem, spiking it with intensity benefitting of thrash metal throughout.

Elsewhere on this tracklist are a bunch of tunes that were quite popular ‘back in the day’ and, although mostly forgotten now, hold up remarkably well. Everyone knows Apotheosis’ O Fortuna, but the follow-up Obumbratta was just as good. Here we have their Dynamic Techno Remix featuring proto-gabber beats and production quality that is leaps and bounds above nearly everything else on Radikal Techno - it really does sound like the apocalypse is nigh as the Gates Of Hell are opened. WestBam’s Mayday Anthem, a track written for the Mayday party, is a fun piece of riff-tastic techno, while Razormaid adds sinister grumbling basslines to Die Schwarze Zone from LDC, an EBM-inspired project from euro-house legend Torsten Fenslau. And speaking of old house legends and rumbling basslines, StoneBridge shows up to remix the oldie house-gem Take Me Higher from Hysteria. Quite possibly amongst the oddest tracks is Ave Maria from the anonymous Noys, whom sampled the climax of Strauss’ Blue Danube, looped it, added some beats, and then dive off into a nifty piece of techno in its own right (that bassline... damn, but are there ever some kick-ass basslines on this compilation!); it screams one-off novelty, yet somehow works in spite of itself.

Unfortunately, Radikal Techno also finds one of the more abysmal novelty trends to be found in early ‘90s rave, the cringe-worthy ‘toytown’ phase. Here, we have Raving On Sesame Street, which is so hopelessly lame, this was about the only place you could find the track (according to Discogs, anyway). Thankfully, it’s placed at the end of the CD, and can simply be forgotten it even exists.

The remaining tracks mostly amount to rip-offs (Dance Your Ass Off is practically James Brown Is Dead) or style-biting (big-riff techno in the case of Stylophonia, hoover-house in the case of Life At Wunderbar, and anthemic hip-house with The Nervous Zone). None of them are essential but they do help round out the compilation with filler that won’t have you reaching for the skip button.

As an interesting aside, Canadian DJ Chris Sheppard helped compile this release; however, this is in his pre-fame days when he was just starting to expose all that crazy rave music from Europe to Canadians. As such, he only has a token “Compiled by” credit near the copyright alongside Quality’s frequent dance compiler Markus Klinke. As evidenced by his track selection here, Sheppard definitely had an ear for the underground, and this release confirms it was a shame Shep’ was lost to the mainstream soon after.

Anyhow, Radikal Techno is the kind of compilation that you just might find sitting in a used shop (probably Canadian). Considering the quality and scarcity of a number of these tracks and remixes, it makes this CD quite the bargain for anyone who fancies the old school. Don’t miss out.

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

Various - Planet Dance

Tommy Boy Silver Label: 2000

Planet Dance is another entry in the ongoing history of “Good Music, Bad Covers”. To begin with, the title is utterly generic, and though hyperbolic sub-titles are almost mandatory, even a rote rookie wouldn’t be fooled into thinking Planet Dance is selling what it claims. I’ll give some credit for choosing a minimalist design in artwork, but I’m not sure what that thing is supposed to be. An all-white ‘P’ overlapping a block-spectrum of a ‘D’? And the logo in the bottom corner, is that really Tommy Boy’s, the label famously known as an early leader in hip-hop and urban soul? When did they get on the dance music money train?

Truth be told, they’ve flirted in and out of dance culture for just as long, including a few hip-house tracks when it had short-lived chart strength. After Daft Punk re-invigorated house music and the clubs that supported it in the back-half of the ‘90s, it wasn’t such a bad idea to throw one’s hat into the lucrative pile. Tommy Boy already had plenty of ties and connections to New York City clubs, and a little extra market penetration outside their core demographic wouldn’t hurt. Big gay diva house it is, then.

Thus Tommy Boy established a sub-label specifically catering to the needs of house heads, Tommy Boy Silver. Planet Dance is a summation of tracks that had been released through the label’s first couple years of existence, and remarkably ace throughout for a bandwagon jump. While I wouldn’t call all these ‘club hits’ like the CD claims, there are quite a few memorable anthems on here, and plenty of noteworthy names of the time, including Cevin Fisher leading the charge. Never a bad thing hearing Burning Up or The Freaks Come Out again; a few Junior Vasquez remixes also goes down easy. Squeezed into this mix are a few surprises too.

For instance, Demi Moore is on here! Yes, that Moore, sampled from a world-beat track where she read poetry, now set to a big house cut with orchestral swells and builds (A Gift Of Love’s Do You Love Me, for the record). Or how about a pre-Get Physical M.A.N.D.Y. showing up as Oakland Stroke for a funky outing in Planet Whip, inspired by the way-oldie Let It Whip from Dazz Band? Yeah, didn’t see that one coming, did you?

Nor a pile of hard house either, I wager. Not content in cornering the disco house scene, Tommy Boy Silver got in on the ravier side of things, including Mario Più’s hit Communication (aka: that phone song), and the one-off DJ Irene project P.I.M.P. Project (Kick Your Legs Higher is proto-‘donk’!). Bridging the gap between hard house and progressive house (kinda’) is Hypertrophy, with four tracks of theirs in this mix – geez, they only released five singles. It’s probably a bit much for those who never cared for ‘bells-n-plucks’ riffs, but when surrounded with strong funky vibes, they make for nice sweetener. Definitely a surprising keeper, Planet Dance is.

Faithless - Outrospective

Arista: 2001

Contention time: Outrospective isn’t a good album. There’s good music, sure, some of Faithless’ best compositions. There's also ample amounts of weak sauce; a sense of the group going through the motions (was Rollo saving his best new stuff for Dusted?). Not that it’s surprising if they had run out of ideas three albums in, having seemingly explored every facet of their inspirations on Reverence and Sunday 8pm. What need was there to rehash the same formula if the song-writing just wasn’t there though? They’d proved capable of free-wheeling genres, earning chart success and underground cred’ in the process – why not mix things up, go in an unexpected route? (erm, which they did with No Roots, but that’s another discussion)

First off, the club anthems on Outrospective are some of Faithless’ worst work ever. We Come 1 has its fans, but it sounds like a parody of the Rollo/Sister Bliss club banger stylee. The breakdown kills all momentum the track had going for it, the hook is one of the lamest farty noises I’ve ever heard for an ‘anthem’, and the build keeps teasing and halting and pulling back and for the love of God just get to the point already. It’s like El’ Rollie and Miss Bliss had finally hit their creative wall, stuck figuring out how to top God Is A DJ and failing miserably in the process. Compared to the club anthems they kicked out on the regular – even the unheralded b-sides remixes - We Come 1 is just sad. Tarantula’s at least better, not wasting as much time dithering about. Neither serves much purpose in the context of this album though; both come off like pandering, obligatory Faithless anthems because it’s what’s expected of the group. Small wonder such tunes were jettisoned in No Roots.

Still, Faithless albums held their own thanks to the downtempo, introspective moments, with either Maxi Jazz philosophizing about his youth and contemporary issues, or something more folksy with a guest vocalist. We get that with Outrospective too, but aside from the Mohammad Ali tribute, um, Mohammad Ali, little stands out the way prior songs did. Nothing delightfully daft as Baseball Cap and Dirty Old Man, nor anything gripping and tense like Bring My Family Back and Killer’s Lullaby (Giving Myself Away comes close as a tale of a destructive relationship). Elsewhere, Dido sings the chorus on One Step Too Far, which was a huge selling point for Outrospective given the massive star she’d attained by 2001, to the point her presence overshadows everything else about the track despite offering very little in the way of lyrics. That said, Zoë Johnston’s debut with the group is a nice addition, providing a more ethereal, British countryside element to her songs (Crazy English Summer, Evergreen).

Despite my general disappointment in Outrospective, the final run of tracks in Code, Evergreen, and Liontamer (now there’s a great build!) do make the album worth an occasional throw-on. Just not as often as other Faithless LPs.

Fun Factory - Nonstop! The Album

Attic: 1994

When I first heard Fun Factory's big hits Close To You and Take Your Chance, it marked the first time I had doubts about my two-year strong love affair with euro-dance. By no means the worst tunes of that scene I'd come across, something about the group struck me as too manufactured. Yeah, yeah, almost all euro-dance acts were studio engineered and mass marketed with pretty faces lip-syncing on stage and videos, and even in my youthful naivety I accepted that so long as some semblance of authenticity emerged with the performers. This four-piece though, I dunno. It seemed the producers behind Fun Factory (German-based Team33) had a check-list of every detail necessary for a hit euro act, and dutifully marked them all down.

Some pre-requisites filled: a hot chick on the chorus (who may or may not have done the actual vocals), the black rapper (!), a white ragga rapper (!!), and a dancer (!?). Actually, I’ll give this factory of fun-stuffs credit for giving the dancer an official role within the group, something it seems only The Prodigy could pull off with any credibility. On the music front, you’ve got a Snap! tune, a Maxx track, a Felix (Rollo) riff, rhythms similar to the Abfahrt Records camp, and is that a little Ace Of Base reggae in there too? Yep, whatever formula was out there for a euro-dance hit, Fun Factory got in on that, and then some (is Prove Your Love eurobeat?).

Right, plenty of cynicism for Nonstop! The Album on my front. Why do I even have Fun Factory's debut album, then? Reason number one: if I see a euro-dance collection from 1994 sitting in a used CD shop, I've developed a reflex action of instantly picking it up, no questions asked. Don't judge me, that year was the absolute bomb for euro. Hell, this album's proof of it, where despite as canned as Fun Factory comes across, there's still plenty of ear-wormy dance-pop tunes throughout.

The second reason, and where I’ll give Team33 the most credit for, is how Nonstop! The Album does all it can in making this a strong LP experience. Alongside the aforementioned euro-dance and reggae-pop jams, there’s pure anthem techno (Fun Factory’s Groove), throwback Belgian beat (Fun Factory’s Theme), soul-croon (I Miss Her), hip-hop freestyle (erm, Freestylin’), and crap R&B ballad (Hey Little Girl ...oh God, is this track ever shit). You could make the cynical argument this is just Fun Factory covering all the bases, but the way this album’s presented, I don’t get that vibe. Despite their seemingly artificial formation, there’s a sense of genuine earnestness from all the participants - they’re committed to the act, and those who listen to Fun Factory are in on the act as well. Its euro-dance that makes no apologies for its commercial nature, and it’s gonna’ give you all that it can give. Try telling that to Teenage Sykonee though, who felt euro-dance should be serious and shit. G’ah.

2 Unlimited - No Limits!

Quality Music: 1993

Oh man, I could so do another 'anecdote review' with this CD, it being the first disc I ever owned and all. But nay, Nightflight To Venus was once enough for such a gimmick, so I'll leave the personal stories aside. All I'll say is had I bought my initial choice of Naughty By Nature's 19 Naughty III instead on that fateful day, my musical development could have been drastically different during those early, impressionable teenage years.

No Limits! came out a year after 2 Unlimited's debut, and the group was quick to transition from a charming (lambasted?) Belgian techno-rave act to a proper pop sensation. They couldn’t do it re-hashing the same ol’ dance formula as before though. They needed cleaner production, tighter song-writing, and a new anthem that proved, beyond a shadow of a doubt, their early singles of Get Ready For This and Twilight Zone weren’t just flukes cashing in on a hot sound. Something with a hook instantly recognizable and so simple anyone could hum it, with a chorus to match and a title that not only could be used for the LP-proper, but even have tongue-in-cheek playfulness as it related to the group name. Got it, R.U.O.K.!

Look, I’m actually sick of No Limit at this moment. Between it being the first track on this album, plus having just done the single, I’ve now heard seven iteration of the damned song in a row, five of which are practically identical to each other. I’ll still enjoy it the next time I hear it at a hockey game, but right now, I’m burnt out on it – I’ve discovered there is a limit to how much No Limit I can take.

Fortunately, No Limits! doesn’t retread that mind-numbing path quite so often. Maximum Overdrive and Let The Beat Control Your Body are similar tunes, in that they go for the ‘dumb-fun’ dance anthem as No Limit does, but the rest of this album’s surprisingly diverse within the limited range 2 Unlimited set upon itself. Tribal Dance was the other big single from here, far cleverer in offering high-octane dance music compared to forgotten tracks like Break The Chain and Kiss Me Bliss Me (literally, I forgot the latter existed!). Showing some musical class, Mysterious is a well-crafted dance-pop song, while Faces and The Power Age have Ray and Anita injecting world issues into their lyrics, using their gained popularity for more than mindless musical escapism. On the lighter side of things is a happy little number called Throw The Groove Down (such whimsical fun!) and a nice bit o’ bliss from Invite Me To Trance.

I’m not gonna’ sell you on No Limits! if you aren’t already sold on 2 Unlimited, but for such a quick sophomore effort, it’s leaps beyond Get Ready. Hell, even the ballads, Where Are You Now and Shelter For A Rainy Day, are pleasant numbers to end the album on. Me, giving praise to euro-dance ballads. That just don’t happen, mang!

2 Unlimited - No Limit (BioMetal, Part 4)

Quality Music: 1992/1993

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.)

“Time until total blackout?”

“Five minutes, General Wilde.”

He leaned forward at his cramped bridge console, and finished his ninth stim’ fix with a strong swig. A song played in his head, a tune so annoyingly memorable it seemed forever looped. Maybe it was his mind’s feeble attempt at distraction, relieving the stress of the mission. Everything hinged on his direction, his orders, and his intuition. Yet here were a couple of kids doing all the gruelling work for him. All he could do was sit and watch their progress, praying to the Elder Souls he’d given them all the tools they needed in the HALBARD for a successful mission. That, and a limitless amount of luck.

“Amazing they've made it so far,” Wilde muttered, but their time was almost out. The orbital frigate he operated from could only remain for a couple hours more before the BioMetals would detect it and send swarms of the creatures after them. If his two officers ploughing a course into the heart of the BioMetal lair failed in eliminating the central brain-hub and spawning nursery, he’d be left with no other option but complete planetary decimation, including Ray and Anita whether they still lived or not. They deserved a chance to succeed on their own, but Wilde knew where his obligations lay.

He rubbed both sides of his cheeks, sweaty palms scratching against a coarse layer of whiskers. A shave already? Truly his beard had no upper limit in its rate of growth. Probably sprouts faster than BioMetals.

He tapped an intercom button at his console, opening a channel to the science lab. “Dr. de Coster, how's the status of our fail-safe?”

“Sitting just p'urty, Sir,” came a reply. “Ol' Romy and Marion are ready if you want them.”

Wilde chuckled. Leave it to a 'mad' scientist to give such destructive weapons pet names. “I hope it won't come to that,” he replied. “Ray and Anita have exceeded my expectations. It's possible there's unlimited potential in the two. Their mission's gone from 'long shot' to 'possible chance' in rapid time, and I'm not about to waste their earned good will by destroying them in the process.”

“And if they don't make it back?”

Wilde pursed his lips. “We'll have to give 'Romy' and 'Marion' a try then, won't we. May the Elder Souls forgive us if we do though.”

“Haha, you sound as though their aftermath will swallow us in the process.”

Wilde switched the intercom off. If they don't succeed, I fear it just will at that.

He glanced back at his monitor, the tactical read-out of the BioMetal lair growing distorted. Then, with a garbled flash of radio-wave static, it went dark. The HALBARD’s signal disappeared, buried beneath tons of rock and twisted bio-mass. It was all on Ray and Anita to see the mission through to its end.

Pressing his clasped knuckles against his forehead, he gave a small, quiet prayer. May there be no limit to your gifts.


(If you're hopeless lost as to what's going on, click here.)

Various - Fifteen Years Of Turnmills: A Retrospective Mixed By Tall Paul

Muzik Magazine: 2001

The November 2001 issue of Muzik was the first one I ever bought, for no better reason than I had no other options for my monthly electronic music reportage at the time. My usual purchase, Mixer, was nowhere on the shelves – not that I blame the New York City based rag to fall behind a bit, what with that whole 9/11 event and all. And my sampling of Mixmag the month before only showed me how ass that magazine generally was (ace free CD notwithstanding). Thus when I saw a cover featuring Kosheen (ooh, Sian Evans as a sexy pseudo-goth!), plus a cheeky Adam Freeland quote of, “I challenge Oakenfold to mix two breakbeat records”, I figured it’d be worth a shot.

And lo’, after reading (most) of this magazine front to back, I asked the heavens, where had Muzik been all my life? Not being sold in Rupert, that’s where! Who’d have thought I’d need to retreat deeper into British Columbian territory to find a British music magazine that delivered all that I ever wanted – smart reviews, interesting interviews, snarky humour, exciting exposés, celebrity mixtapes, quirky club gossip, and that. But wait, what’s this? A free CD like Mixmag, but with Tall Paul as a guest DJ? I know that guy, he’s the really tall DJ named Paul that a few of my house-lovin’ Rupert pals were into. There’s even a tune on it that I’d been searching for and wasn’t on some dodgy euro-dance compilation: BBE’s Seven Days And One Week. Man, who cares about the rest of the magazine, I’ll slap down the $12 I really couldn’t afford at the time regardless!

Shame this Fifteen Years Of Turnmills mix is utter pants. The Tall one didn’t make things easy for himself trying to sum up one-point-five decades of a club night into the tiny microcosm of a mix CD, given the disparate roads electronic music had taken in that time. It makes good sense opening with the disco-garage soul of Fire Island’s There But For The Grace Of God, but how do you get to Tony de Vit’s big-gay anthem Burning Up in between? When you’re cramming in piano progressive house like Outrage’s That Piano Track, tribal tech-house of Sil’s Windows 98 (yo, Olav!), Ferry Corsten’s rub of Madagascar (one of my most hated tunes back in the day – fuck standing around doing jack shit), his own slice of anthem house in Rock Da House, plus Jark Prongo’s Moving Through Your System on the ten-millionth CD I own (only third, you hyperbolic twit), you’re looking at a rough mix. Oh yeah, and the mixing between tracks is pretty rough throughout too.

Okay, I’m ragging on this CD more than necessary; after all, it’s just a freebie. Fortunately, Muzik’s record on these CDs would turn out much better than that initial impression gave me, which only sweetened the deal with every issue I bought going forward with the magazine. T’was a love that lasted forever after.

Fehrplay - Meow

Ministry Of Sound America: 2010

It’s a given that the PR blurbs that come with new singles are ridiculous. If you were to take them at face value, you’d swear every new tune was the greatest composition ever created. Of course, that ain’t true, but it can make for some hilarious reading whenever they overshoot. Sometimes, they’re so bold in their ambition that they’ll bestow ‘classic’ status upon a track well before it’s even had a chance to get properly rinsed out. Like this one.

Oh, Meow definitely has the potential to become a hit, even if it’s ballsy to declare it a WMC anthem nearly a month before the event even starts. Thing is Ferhplay has checked off (re: style-bitten) many of the things that has made many an Eric Prydz track a hit. The hook is instantly likeable, the beats have quality bounce, the supporting ‘piano’ chords will bob heads, and all the whooshy effects are tastefully done; then, it’s arranged such that the vibe never falters. There’s no new ground being broken here but with a track this shamelessly fun, does it matter? Certainly not, so Meow looks primed to be at least a minor hit for the main room crowds.

The B-side of this digital promo is

Then I stopped typing, stared at the computer screen, and asked myself, “Why am I still doing this? Nothing I write matters and all these free digi-EP promos I’m being sent won’t have any lasting impact upon electronic music. Fuck it. Fuck everything.”

Yes indeed, it was cynicism towards over-zealous PR that finally broke me, despite managing a few more reviews before truly quitting. It didn’t help I was suffering from multiple bouts of work and college related stress, relationship and financial depression, and just generally feeling poo at the time, but there it is - the honest-to-God impetus for giving up writing reviews about new music. I’m feeling better now, thankfully.

I imagine it’s a self-defeating, futile and sick, sick, sick environment, the world of promo-PR. How many times do copy-writers hype a track to the high ends of the Earth, only for said track to get completely passed by without a notice or care. Hell, Fehrplay’s Meow was one of the best ones of at least a dozen digi-promos I went through, hence why I tried writing a review for it, plus got picked up by Ministry Of Sound and Hed Kandi for compilation duty on all their major releases (Annual, Clubber’s Guide …Miami Fashion District?). Nor was I the only one to make the Prydz connection, as Jonas von der Fehr released his second single, Incognito, on Pryda Friends. Meow truly could have been a major hit like the promo guys claimed. Yet, do you remember this tune? For that matter, did you even know it existed, because Amazon.com sure doesn't.

Anyhow, to finish this four year aborted review, the B-side is titled Meow Again. It’s an electro-house version, and not as good as the original Meow. Yay, done, finished.

Dirty South - Let It Go (Original TC Review)

Axtone Records: 2007

(2014 Update:
A little dated, this review, as electro house lingered on for a few years longer before the Swedish House Mafia upped the anthem potential, spurring on the anthem house revival (no, really, stop calling it Big Room, you gits) we're going through now. In fact, I'm surprised I didn't notice it before, but Axwell's remix here has all the hallmarks of the genre, right down to the sort of synth-plucks Rollo used back in the early '90s. Come to think of it, all of their biggest hits - even before becoming the supergroup SHM - relied on that trope. Fuck me, no wonder they were so popular.

Dirty South, then? He finally got around to releasing a proper album this past year, though released on his own Phazed Records print, and only digital at that. What, no one bothered to sign him before? Wasn't he supposed to be a top-tier electro house producer and remixer? He still has some fans, I guess, but has gotten lost in the shuffle now that everyone is making anthem house of this sort.)


IN BRIEF: Here yesterday, gone tomorrow.

Dragan Roganovic broke out of Australian obscurity quite quickly into his career. At first mostly tied to fellow Aussies TV Rock through their collaborations, Dragan soon brought his Dirty South project to the forefront on the strength of a string of high-profile remixes. Before long, he was getting tapped to lend his touch to singles from Fedde le Grand, Roger Sanchez, Tiësto, Kaskade, and David Guetta. Why him in particular? If these names are anything to go by, Dragan is quite chummy with the mainstream side of dance music, and he now is often contacted to provide a Big Electro-House Remix for such folk. Truthfully, when compared to the endless numbers of fart-house producers out there, there isn’t anything terribly unique in Dirty South remixes, but for whatever reason he gets the big singles handed to him and has built a tidy career out of it.

In fact, given that his remix work grabs most of the attention, you’d be forgiven in forgetting Dragan makes his own tunes too. He hasn’t released many, and they certainly don’t command as high a profile, but they are out there. Late last year, upon signing to Swedish house man Axwell’s Axtone label, Dragan released his first solo work in over a year, a simple little number titled Let It Go.

And yes, it is rather simple as far as house music goes; which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but in Dragan’s case, Let It Go is quite run-of-the-mill too. There’s a catchy vocal, a serviceable guitar lick, marginal nu-electro elements, and your requisite main-room build-and-drop structure; mainstream sell-out Bob Sinclar gets by on much the same. Really, the only thing rescuing this Dirty South single from Ministry Of Sound compilation fodder obscurity are the beats, which have decent bounce to them when compared to other typical offerings; unfortunately, it isn’t enough to make this a memorable slice of house music either.

For the remix, Axwell himself gets the duties, and offers little as a result. His go at Let It Go rests somewhere between the main-room structure of the original and rote execution of tech-house simplicity. The beats aren’t as interested, and his hooks are marginal even by Swedish House Mafia standards. Sure, it’ll get the job done on the dancefloor, but praising it for that is like praising a car for getting you to where you’re going: it’s the least that’s expected for a pass.

Frankly, had I gotten the chance to review this back when it first came out, Let It Go would have seemed decent, if not enduring (who’d even be able to recall it a year later, I wonder?). As we move deeper into this year of 2008, however, it just seems tired. A resurgent classic house revival has been upstaging all this electro-house stuff with cool class, funky fun, and soulful vitality, and I can’t help but suspect the trendy nu-electro material Dirty South produces will fall out of favor by year’s end. One can only hope.

Various - In Trance We Trust 019: Kris O'Neil

In Trance We Trust: 2012

Well, at least I didn’t have to endure a breakdown until two minutes this time, but there it is once again. God almighty, when will this trope- oh, it’s already back to the beats. Well, good then. But I bet this opener will come to a full stop for a standard build-up and- wait, it’s already doing the build-up? Without a pause? Holy cow, and it drops right after the peak; no dawdling, just hitting that anthem instantly. Okay, that wasn’t so bad, but it was just a one-off, I’m sure. The rest of this disc will- oh, wow! The entire first half of this mix has tracks like that.

I’ll grant some builds go a tad long (Cosmic Gate just can’t help themselves), but there’s no sense of momentum lost - just bangin’ tune after bangin’ tune, many with a hooky anthem and hard rhythms. Hm, and snares or claps on every beat, no less; rather like hard house come to think of it. Hey, this isn’t trance at all, it’s anthem house!

Right, so I should have expected it from a 2012 mix CD, as tons of DJs jumped on that genre’s recent resurgence (and stop calling it retarded names like ‘trouse’ or Trance 2.0). I can totally see the euro-trance faithful hating Kris O’Neil’s offering to the In Trance We Trust series, signifying yet another example of the scene they reverently coddled turning to sounds more popular to a general audience. Yeah, well, them’s the breaks, kids. Now you know how the old-old schoolers felt when the Dutch sounds ya’ll loved started dominating trance many moons ago. Stings, don’t it.

Anyhow, Mr. O’Neil’s quick mixes (average of four minutes per track!) of tunes that keep the energy escalating does peter out by the midway mark, after which he indulges in some tepid vocal cuts (dear Lord, that Wanrooy track with Blake Lewis is hokey), and tech bangers for the end. A couple are okay, but can’t match the unabashed stupid-fun the first half of the CD offered, which was more than could be said for so many other volumes.

Thus, that’s the last of the In Trance We Trust series, perhaps period. ITWT019 was released a year-and-a-half ago, and though the label still comes out with the odd single, there hasn't been word on a twentieth volume hitting stores any time soon, digi or not. Gee, I know the whole mix CD market’s got little appeal to most young punters out there, but surely a mega-label like Black Hole Recordings sees some merit in maintaining In Trance We Trust. Did Kris O’Neil’s offering tank that bad to kill it off? Or was the inclusion of so much anthem house a sign that In Trance We Trust no longer trusts in trance?


If this really is the end, then it’s only fitting to have In Trance We Trust put to pasture. Let ‘em have it, guys!

Gen: “Zan’ei!”

M. Bison: “Psycho Crusher!”

Akuma: “Shun Goku Satsu.”






Dan: “Chouhatsu Densetsu!

Faithless - Insomnia

Blow Up: 1995

There has to be a zillion versions of this single out there (“Sixty-one,” gruffs Discogs. “Get your facts straight.”), with just as many remixes. The one I have in my possession is among the earlier copies, though not the earliest. No, those ones have the smiling Cheeky boy mascot on their covers, released at a time when the notion of Faithless as some sort of super-group was nowhere near folks' minds. Then, of course, everyone heard Insomnia (no, not hyperbole – everyone did, whether you liked it or not), and lo', Faithless was off and running. However, that old cover just would’t do, far too tacky for one of the biggest club singles ever. Quick, what’s available as a replacement? A group shot? Fine, perfect, whatever, it’ll do, just go, go! Get that tune in the stores pronto. And start figuring out something better for later. It must be far more eye-grabbing than the group standing around laughing. Something artful, and reminiscent of the forthcoming album, yes?

As someone residing in North America, it feels odd having this ‘middle version’. We got Insomnia two bloody years after it first hit the streets, which is understandable to a degree. Faithless’ shtick was unlike anything marketable in the big U.S. of A. Heck, they were still trying to figure out groups like Chemical Brothers and Prodigy, and now here’s something that has elements of that cheesy euro dance stuff, yet is stupidly popular and somehow seen as artistically credible. What is it, those barely sung lyrics from Maxi Jazz about suffering from insomnia?

Yeah, funny thing about those lyrics. You can take them at face value, about a poor chap who just can’t get no sleep, but gander at this theory: how many of you out there have had a night of partying or clubbing where, at some point, you’ve consumed a substance that was just a bit too stimulating. Woo, that rush was fun, but fun-time’s over and you’re feeling kinda tired now. Off to home, get some sleep, recharge, recoup, twist, turn, what the Hell, why can’t I fall asleep? It’s been hours, there’s daylight, twist, turn, and still nothing. Good Lord, what was in those things? Am I ever gonna sleep again? This is ridiculous! Wait, did I just fall asleep now, only to pop awake scant minutes later? I’m… not sure. Greasy insomnia, please release me!

I’m not saying Insmonia is an ode to all those poor clubbers who took too many stimulants, but that, coupled with that oh-so memorable anthem hook at the peak of the tune, definitely made it a club classic that Faithless seldom ever topped in their following career. Not bad for a tune that, fundamentally, could be called ‘epic garage’.

Oh, this CD? It’s got all the ‘first generation’ mixes on it (Moody, Tuff, Original, CEC, and Monster mixes), though the Monster Mix is edited. Only thing unique about it is the cover. Guess that’s why I was sucker enough to snag it.

Faithless - If Lovin' You Is Wrong

Cheeky Records: 1996

Of all the tracks to pluck for single duty from Reverence, they went with this one? Insomnia and Salva Mea were no-brainers (lead-ins, to be honest), and Don't Leave made for a decent third. If Lovin' You Is Wrong always struck me as novelty track though, like Baseball Cap or Dirty Old Man - something to spice the album up with cheeky fun so it didn’t get weighed down with po-faced seriousness. It's definitely the most erotic you'll ever hear Maxi Jazz, the sort of sexy come-ons you wouldn't expect a pseudo-religious lyricist to indulge in (sample: “Eat you like a cannibal.” Classy.). Heck, in retrospect, the entire track feels at odds to Faithless’ discography; at least, to the extent I’ve kept tabs on the group, as their post-Outrospective material hasn’t graced my ears much. That’s a topic of discussion for later though.

As with a lot of Faithless music, If Lovin’ You Is Wrong defies easy description. I suppose Prince-influenced R’n’B is the easiest lump, borrowing tempo and sounds of that genre (oh so much womanly moaning throughout). But ho, there’s more: beat scratches, clanking percussion, and a gospel chorus! I... don’t think I’d want to hear that while “tearing off tights with my teeth”. Wait, that’s a different song. Overall, the tone is just too goofy to take seriously as a slice of pure eroticism, despite Maxi Jazz’ sexy descriptions of unhinged love making. Like I said, more of a novelty track following the uber-anthem Salva Mea on the album.

The single comes with a Sexy Edit (just the album version), and a Cleaned Up Edit, which removes all the moaning and adds more light-hearted bounce to the music. Oh, and some lyrics are changed. Instead of eating you like a cannibal, Maxi Jazz will “eat you like caramel.” That’s actually more erotic, come to think of it. And speaking of coming, Mr. Jazz initially said, “If you come first, well that’s the worst”; now he says, “If you go first, well that’s the worst.” That’s... um, that’s just lame now.

On the backend of the CD, we get a pair of remixes courtesy of Rollo and Sister Bliss (I assume, what with no other credits listed). The Slowly Risin’ Mix opens with Mr. Jazz singing his opening verse without any musical backing, a boogie-woogie bassline eventually emerging. Pretty fun stuff, and then it’s off to house land, getting a little prog, getting a little bosh, and, of course, a little hands-in-the-air. Not bad, but if you prefer it when Faithless goes for the full-bore anthems, then check out the Inflammable Mix, about as unabashedly over-the-top as the group could get in the ‘90s. For that matter, how’s this track even related to If Lovin’ You Is Wrong? Admit it, Rollo, you and Ms. Bliss just had another anthem lying around in demo form, and slapped it on here under pretence instead, didn’t you. Oh well, as far as b-sides go, it’s worth scoping this single out for.