Various - Hidden Realms EP

Omni Music: 2019

Sweet, a drum 'n' bass release. Damn, it's been, like, forever since- Eh? Oh, right, Photek's Form & Function, just a couple months ago. Alright, got me there, but since before that one? You'll have to go back a literal year, to Centaspike's Bent Bound Broken, when I last covered the genre. Blame it on all that psy trance making these gaps artificially vast.

Anyhow, Omni Music. This is a label that kicked off at the start of the '10s, a means of producer Eschaton to release tunes that didn't fit on other, established labels. Not sure how accurate that is, but my recollection of the state of d'n'b back then is a bit sketchy now. Probably not so robust for those who were interested in sounds outside the Pendulum or liquid funk oeuvre. Yeah, there will always be Good Looking Records (as well as Looking Good Records), but surely there was demand for more outlets of jungle on the jazzy, intelligent tip, right.

Must be indeed, Omni Music carrying on to this day, with a catalogue of three-hundred plus records. Oh my, where does one even start with this label, then? For our purposes, it's an EP compilation called Hidden Realms. I... have no memory of why I picked this particular item. Oh, there's a specific reason how I came across Omni, but has nothing to do with this. It wasn't a recent item either, so wouldn't have been an impulse buy upon first stumbling in. Heck, it doesn't even have blue cover art! A mystery for sure.

Whatever, I have it now, so let's dig in. Each track is a collab' effort, the first featuring Enjoy and Pariah. Don't know much about the former, but Pariah had been a staple of the aforementioned Bukem prints early on. And if you know anything about that namedrop, then you should know what sort of d'n'b we're in for. Sonic Void is mostly an ultra-deep techy session, though does pick up in the back-half with a little Amen Break action complimenting the minimalist spacey synths leading the melody. Omni honcho Eschaton follows up with Booca (very little Discogs presence) on Behind The Magenta, a far more jazzy, atmospheric outing with broken beats, operatic choirs, heavenly leads, trombones... A real stew of sounds, but darn cool in a blissy sort of way.

Third track State Of Consciousness is another 'veteran meets newbie' session featuring DJ Trax and Infest (3). It, too, follows the vintage LTJ vibe, with busier drum work but no less chill on the melodic side. The final two producers, Parhelia and Dissident, are relative newcomers compared to the '90s folks, but have still been in the game over a decade now. The Day Of 5 Suns is suitably grand in scope for such a title, conjuring sci-fi vistas and all that. Is this the level of quality for the whole damn Omni Music catalogue? Gosh, only one way to find out! ...but I'm not the person to do so.

Omni Trio - The Haunted Science

Moving Shadow: 1996

The only Omni Trio album you’re supposed to have, even if you’re not an Omni Trio fan. Mind you, my sources for this proclamation is entirely predicated upon which singles have the longest legacy within Rob Haigh’s career. For sure every junglist worth their hoodie knows of Renegade Snares, the single that broke Omni Trio out of the darkcore scene. Who knew jungle could sound so calm and pleasant with charming piano hooks? More than enough to help kick-off the ‘atmospheric’ side of jungle. Which lead to ‘intelligent’ records, and refined tastes melding with ‘jazz’, while losing the frenetic rave roots in favor of a stripped-back ‘tech’ approach to the craft. All this, and drum ‘n bass too.

Though The Haunted Science technically isn’t Omni Trio’s first LP, it may as well be his proper debut album, prior The Deepest Cut more a collection of earlier singles and remixes. This one also features a number of tracks that would become workhorses in the compilation and DJ mix field, their only rival the aforementioned Renegade Snares (because obviously). Part of this probably was due to timing, The Haunted Science coming out in ’96, a very good year for d’n’b’s commercial and critical ventures. While Omni Trio didn’t get quite the same degree of praise and plaudits as your Goldies or Roni Sizes or Photeks or LTJ Bukems, he was always in the discussion of Very Important Drum ‘n Bass Guys, his records necessary weapons in any self-respecting DJ’s crate. Even the ardent ‘ardcore sorts would make room for an Omni Trio cut.

As for the big singles off The Haunted Science, we get three essential tunes: Trippin’ On Broken Beats, Who Are You, Nu Birth Of Cool, and Haunted Kind. Wait, that’s four? Sorry, personal perspective throwing things a little askew, that last one always slipping me by, probably because it’s more a trip-hop thing than d’n’b. Lord Discogs tells me Haunted Kind did significant compilation duty though, and who am I to dispute The Lord That Knows All?

The first three, however, were such major tracks in the Omni Trio canon, that we get two versions of each on this album! The jazzy Trippin’ On Broken Beats is easily the most famous of these singles, even appearing on Paul Oakenfold’s Live In Oslo mix when the trance jock was working a little jungle class into his sets. Who Are You is pure groovy bliss, but Aquasky takes it down de-e-eep tech-step roads with sub-bass to die for. Nu Birth Of Cool carries on the Renegade Snares tradition of funky licks, piano kicks, and peppy vocal samples, while the Rogue Unit Mix takes it into rougher jungle pastures.

The rest of The Haunted Science plays to Omni Trio’s established strengths: spacious elegant beatcraft, impossibly cool jazz vibes, and an atmosphere of endless ecstasy. Maybe not as genre-defining as other works of the time - you know what you’re getting with this album - but damn does it ever deliver.

High Contrast - Tough Guys Don't Dance (Original TC Review)

Hospital Records: 2007

(2016 Update)
'Tough guys' may not dance, but only when we're dishin' out some tough, critical love, eh? I mean, wow, I could be a hard ass on trance in the TranceCritic days, but I sure wasn't giving High Contrast much slack here. I think the problem was, listening to this album a few times over as I typically did before reviewing something back then, a number of these tracks quickly grew too repetitive for my liking. Having some years and musical distance from this album though, Tough Guys Don't Dance is actually a good rollickin' time, great for a dunk into super-fun liquid funk before getting out of an overcrowded pool. Alright, I was also parroting some of the d'n'b narrative I'd read at the time regarding Hospital Records, but that label's endured remarkably well in the ensuing decade, remaining steadfast in its uplifting manifesto even as different trends come and go.

As for High Contrast, this was his last album, a shame. What, that record a few years ago, with the dubstep and the pointless, weak-sauce collaboration with Tiësto and Underworld? Whatever is this Bizarro Earth you speak of? Does Donald Trump rule your realm?)


IN BRIEF: The soul is in danger of becoming stagnant.

Credit must be given where it is due. Drum ‘n’ bass was in serious danger of growing far too self-serious after the turn of the century, even for itself. Then along comes some young upstart named Lincoln Barrett and, along with the Hospital Records crew, reminded the world the genre can be filled with plenty of uplifting optimistic vibes too. Soaring strings, singing soul sistas, and Robert Owens invaded the realm of jungle militants, and for a while it seemed as though liquid funk would be the future of ‘dee’bee’.

That was half a decade ago [ed: even longer now!]. Obviously the big Hospital take-over didn’t quite occur, but still they carved out their niche and have stayed the course with their sound... and stayed... and stayed... and now that just isn’t enough.

Yes, folks, it’s true. Rumors and buzzes from the underground abound that liquid funk has become played out; is past its prime; in need of a rest; if not, at least some re-invention. The same ol’ formula can only carry a scene for so long before predictable production becomes too common, and this sub-genre of jungle is decidedly drawing nearer to such a period. With two highly regarded albums already under his belt, can Mr. Barrett prove there’s still plenty of life in the girl on his third High Contrast full-length?

Forever And A Day makes a strong argument for the case. With rhythms that gets the heart racing and orchestral swells that set the spirit soaring, this is liquid funk at peak proficiency. In many other forms of music, a lyric like “and the birds are singing pretty little songs” would get snickered out of the scene, but in the hands of High Contrast, he makes it exhilarating. Top notch stuff, my friends.

Nothing else comes close to that track on Tough Guys Don’t Dance, but Barrett shouldn’t be expected to hit a grand-slam every time. However, although each tune he crafts is easily above average, very few of them are a home-run either. It’s fine for a few tracks into the album, but by the time Eternal Optimist and Chances roll along, the template has become far too predictable and lacks the panache that made Forever And A Day such a winner.

The trouble lies in the fact a lot of Lincoln’s tricks are over-familiar now, and he doesn’t do much on this album to shake the formula up. You’d think a producer of his caliber wouldn’t dare be caught going through the motions, yet it honestly does sound like he is with his liquid funk offerings. The r’n’b divas, the soulful crooners (mostly J’Nay in this case), the smooth rolling basslines, the 2-step breakbeats, and the orchestral samples: almost all of it sounds like it could have been produced at any point in his career, and without the care to treat them as something more than just another tune to rinse out by the Hospital Records roster. Fine and dandy for brief one-offs at a club night, sure, but unfortunately rather stale in an album context, especially one’s third.

There are moments where he does deter from the template, and unsurprisingly these tracks are amongst the album’s highlights. Opener If We Ever may have most of liquid funk’s requisite trappings, but instead relies on some old school jungle rhythms which are good fun. Elsewhere, Nobody Gets Out Alive adds a twist to things by making use of a bassline that pounds rather than rolls and some old blues sample that wouldn’t have sounded too out of place on Moby’s Play. The two atmospheric cuts - Tread Softly and The Ghost Of Jungle Past - although quite stuck in the 90s, are lush. As for his fiercer offerings like Sleepless, Metamorphosis, and Pink Flamingos, they’re hit or miss, and ultimately serving as little better than breaks in the liquid funk monotony.

Hn. Reading this back, and it seems like I’m just bitching about liquid funk, when truthfully I do enjoy the stuff. It is, after all, quite uplifting music. However, its mostly singular execution on Mr. Barrett’s third doesn’t offer as much depth as you’d expect given how nifty the surface often presents itself. Still, Tough Guys Don’t Dance is hardly a write-off. The highlights are stellar, the atmospheric detours are pleasant, and tracks like Kiss Kiss Bang Bang and Everything’s Different are class, if somewhat formulaic.

I’ve heard High Contrast criticized as being drum ‘n’ bass for newbies, which is rather unfair (jump-up still holds the crown for that distinction) but I can see where such critics are coming from. Lincoln’s stuff is very accessible for the uninitiated junglist and would prefer keeping a party active rather than challenge the listener. However, by sticking to such simple tried and tested tactics, his appeal won’t last should you explore the realm of jungle further, as producers with far greater tricks abound. If you have a passing fancy for liquid funk, Tough Guys Don’t Dance will serve you find, but seasoned vets of the scene may be disappointed.

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

Jonny L - Sawtooth

XL Recordings: 1997

Some days, you just need that drum’n’bass hit. Seeing the multitude of memes declaring this biological fact as gospel, I know I’m not alone in this sentiment, though my cravings don’t run as deep as some junglists go. However, it’s enough that every so often I must pick up some proper rudeness for my brain’s rhythm centers, a prospect that’s not as easy as it once t’was. For sure it’s simple enough finding any ol’ DJ set or label rinseout online, but I gotta’ sate that collector’s itch too, and finding good d’n’b albums is always a tricky proposition, especially when one wanders back to the ‘90s for their fix. Some are too damn obvious (Goldie, Roni Size) or too damn expensive (Logical Progression), but with a little digging, something unexpected can surface.

Not that Jonny L is an unknown entity, but I never pegged him an album guy. Like most d’n’b producers, he made his living on the singles market, signing early to XL Recordings way back when he was still making rave hardcore. As with many, he moved into jungle’s domain, navigating the scene’s numerous splintering roads with remarkable ease. There’s an atmospheric style out there now? Here’s a pair of future classics in Tychonic Cycle and I Let U then. And that emergent tech-step vibe one Grooverider was champion-sounding? Jonny L became one of the genre’s leaders, tracks like Piper, S4, and Wish U Had Something among the earliest anthems spit out. His style was something of a bridge between the darkcore ruffness of the older days, and the precision production of Photek’s work, leading to tracks that hit in hard bursts as different drum patterns rotated in and out. Also, heavy sci-fi influences, dragging the junglists out of the grimy London warehouses and into, um, grimy warehouses on Mars. Can you step to these Martian moves?

I knew all this prior to hearing Jonny L’s debut LP, Sawtooth, as I heard most of these songs elsewhere. In fact, I have at least half the tracks here on other CDs (including Treading) hence why I figured Mr. Lisners more an EP guy. I never considered his first album had been raided for so many tunes! Does this make Sawtooth an unheralded classic the likes we should prop up every chance given?

Ah, not quite. For a ‘90s d’n’b album, it’s solid enough, though if you don’t fancy the tech-step stylee, there isn’t much else to vibe on here. For sure the two atmospheric cuts are mint, and ol’ Jonny throws a single swerve in mid-track Detroit, a tune that clearly wants to be an old-school electro homage, but comes out sounding like technobass instead. Wait, that’s awesome! Other tracks like Moving Thru Air, Two Of Us and Obedience stick to the tech-step sound, good tracks in of themselves though a little redundant when taking in Sawtooth as a whole. Yeah, about as cliché a d’n’b album nitpick as it gets, that one.

ASC - Sci-Files Volume Five (Jack Moss Review)

Covert Operations Recordings: 2008

(note: why have one guest spot review when you can have two for twice the price, especially when the bill is a tidy zero dollars to begin with? You can read more reviews from Jack Moss on his blog, even if he hasn't updated in a while. How long's his hiatus been, a little over two years now? Huh, sounds familiar somehow...)


So, Sci-Files Volume 5, eh? Having played all my overlong intro cards in the previous review, how the Hell am I supposed to drag out a description of two tracks to another Sykonee-imposed word count? Even if they are two of the most gorgeous, evocative pieces of electronic music ever committed to, um, file?

Ah, the hell with it.

The Elements starts with the most unpromising sample on the whole damn series, a MOR guitar strum that immediately brings to mind memories of criminally tepid coffee table jazz ‘n bass from 1997. Are you sure you’ve locked the right coordinates into the navigation system, Captain Clements?

I think this incongruous sample is the reason The Elements is my least-remembered tune on the whole album-not-album (look, we’ve discussed this). Which makes it all the more joyous to be reminded that The Elements, once it gets past its distinctly unpromising first 70 seconds, is actually one of the best tracks of the lot. So many drum ‘n bass hacks out there would have looped those 70 seconds, thrown in a mournful trumpet sample and some third-hand soul diva vocal over the top, sat back and sparked up. But not ASC! Instead he mutates the coffee table into a sublime cyborg symphony of fluttering melodies, topped off with a delightfully suggestive vocal sample.

Blueprint doesn’t quite rewire the hackneyed so unexpectedly, but once again the intro, dextrous as those breaks may be, doesn’t even begin to hint at what’s to come. Within minutes Clements is layering galactic synth washes, bleeped-out melodic transmissions and electro-tinged robo-bass into something that’s dnb but also so much more.

Listening to these tracks with my critical faculties fully engaged and a desperate need to pad out word count looming over me, I can hear more than ever how ASC takes the tropes of atmospheric drum ‘n bass, which let’s face it was running distinctly short of ideas even in 2008, and splices them with the genes of ambient, IDM, film score and just sheer sci-fi sonic wizardry to push the boundaries of the genre into uncharted quadrants of deep space.

Okay, I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking that I don’t know what you’re thinking and that I’m just using a cheap rhetorical trick. But you’re also thinking that I’m over-hyping this shit, aren’t you? Well maybe I am. As a sci-fi sucker who originally fell in love with electronic music because it sounded like the future I wanted to live in, I’m definitely the target audience here. But if you like music that stirs the imagination, that paints pictures behind your eyelids, that forces adjective-strapped music-journos to wheel out the hoary old one about “the soundtrack to a movie that doesn’t exist”, then don’t read another word of my blather and run instead to the nearest music-streaming service, cue this whole thing up start to finish and then tell me I’m over-hyping this shit.

Just don’t search for “The Sci-Fi Files”. Only an idiot would do that.

ASC - Sci-Files Volume Four (Jack Moss Review)

Covert Operations Recordings: 2008

(note: reading five reviews of ironclad word count detailing so little music grows boring, so spicing things up is a different voice, Jack Moss, my old writing partner at TranceCritic. He knows these EPs more intimately than I as it is. Also, check out his blog for more of his reviews, even if it's currently on hiatus)


When someone asks me what my favourite album is, I usually tell them it’s The Sci-Files by ASC. This is despite the fact:

1. The Sci-Files isn’t actually an album at all, but rather a series of EPs.
2. I don’t even actually own the series in its entirety.
3. I’d actually been erroneously calling it “The Sci-Fi Files” for years, right up ‘til Sykonee commissioned me to write this here review and used its proper name.

This isn’t out of sheer hipster point-scoring (“My favourite album? It doesn’t actually exist as an album”) but rather because The Sci-Files is an album in all but the trifling technicalities of how it was actually released. ASC originally wanted a lavish series of vinyl releases before the woes of his label Covert Operations forced him to abandon the plan and relegate his masterwork to a poxy series of MP3 releases. Imagine that gorgeous artwork in a series of themed 12” sleeves. You bet your ass I’d own the full series if that had happened, and I don’t even own a turntable. But it didn’t happen, and so I was free to collate the series on a Spotify playlist and play it through just like an album without ever having to pay for each individual track.

[Painful pseudo-intellectual amateur music-journo angle about playlists being the new albums sold separately.]

Anyway, the point is that The Sci-Files plays through like an album, and a fucking brilliant album at that, an album with a subtly varied but remarkably vivid and consistent mood, an album that explores the realms of pre-Autonomic experimental atmospheric ambient drum ‘n space as though that were an actual assured genre and not some nonsense adjectives I’ve just flung together. So to extract two tracks from the middle of this album-not-album and talk about them as an EP just feels hopelessly incomplete. Because how can you stop at just two tracks?

But stop there we must. So what have we got on Volume Four? There’s First Snow, which is actually one of the most conventional cuts out of the whole series. Despite its desolately inhospitable atmospherics and pleasingly over-dramatic percussive avalanches it’s not a million miles away from the kind of glistening frosty atmospheric jungle that, say, Alaska has been doing for decades. As far as desolate, inhospitable percussive avalanches go it’s still a blinding tune though.

Holosphere, on the other hand... This is the kind of tune that makes The Sci-Files so special. It’s drum ‘n bass alright, but not as we know it, Jim. The spacious, tech-y drum programming might just be some of James Clements’ finest rhythmic work and the bassline rends and tears at your subs like your head is being dragged through a wormhole. And the atmospherics, my God. ASC has a tendency of late to lapse into an over-explored seam of murky glitched dystopia, but Holosphere tickles your mind’s eye with visions of an uninhabited alien landscape, bleak but unimaginably beautiful.

Top shit, basically.

ASC - Sci-Files Volume Three

Covert Operations Recordings: 2008

Slight oversight on my part from the previous Sci-Files review. ASC's former home on Covert Operations Recordings was also a house that he built, so by all accounts the label would have been fully behind the project, had lack of funding not nixed plans for a vinyl run. What fun is theorizing if you knew everything though, eh? Plus, in some weird way, it'd be funny if Mr. Clements himself wasn't entirely satisfied with where Sci-Files was heading, his muse already wandering away from traditional forms of d'n'b in favour of trying out new things like dub techno, drone ambient, and whatever it is that he made for Autonomic (microfunk!). And it still doesn't excuse a limited run CD venture being unavailable. Kickstart that shit, mang!

Anyhow, here we are now with Volume Three of ASC’s Sci-Files series. Offworld Tides Part 2 is our opener with this two tracker, yet another slice of dreamy atmospheric d’n’b. It’s also a very apt title, imagery of seaside shores floating in your head as waves ebb and flow, though I’m still feeling the Balearic vibe over anything cosmic. Maybe aliens have their own Ibiza around Tau Ceti. Incidentally, the original Offworld Tides appeared way back in 2003, as an AA1 side on Inperspective Records. Geez, how many labels has ASC appeared on? No, don’t answer that, it was rhetorical.

The B-side of this digital collection, Firesign, is where things get interesting as far as the Sci-Files are concerned, marking the first instance of ASC forgoing the atmospheric jungle that marked the previous number of tracks. It’s relatively short, and much, much more chill and minimalist, with deep, dubby pads, yet maintaining the brisk, steady groove d’n’b adores making its calling card. Firesign is the sort of tune you’d expect as a transitional cut on an LP, but more importantly it’s something of a transitional track for ASC as a whole, a taste of the sort of music he’d begin exploring in subsequent years following Covert Operations’ folding. I wouldn’t call it an essential addition to your collection, as Mr. Clements has produced better offerings of this style elsewhere, but a noteworthy tune it does remain.

And with that, I must admit I've hit a wall in my coverage of Sci-Files. I’m struck dumb for additional information, and with three more to go, there's no way I'll keep these interesting by covering just two tracks per review. Why did Mr. Clements insist on having such classy cover art for these, forcing my hand in presenting each volume proper-like? I could blather nonsense between the analyses, but that would do them a total disservice. Methinks it’s about time to call in a favour for another guest review spot, and a sensible one for a change (sorry, Zangief). An individual who'd have no problem pinch-hitting a couple reviews, someone who knows these EPs inside and out. Hell, he was the one who turned me onto them in the first place (ASC in general, at that).

ASC - Sci-Files Volume Two

Covert Operations Recordings: 2008

Damn precedents. I never should have established them. Lack of foresight on my part perhaps, but I must have subconsciously looked forward to the challenge they presented too. I knew I had a few runs of CDs where coming up with consistent, interesting content would test my writing ability, even if it meant turning into a robot or calling in guest spots from street fighters to do so. In a pinch though, I could always count on every reviewer’s default crutch when struck dumb for an angle: detailing the music track-by-track, A full-length CD's worth easily eats up my self-imposed word count, hence why I typically only cover the essentials as necessary – makes for better reading to boot. With ASC's Sci-Files series, however, I'm offered no such recourse, each volume consisting of two tracks each, and no more. Son of a...

I understand the marketing behind something like this. A producer gets a concept swirling in their noggin, but wants to treat it with artistic care so fans and consumer can appreciate it more. Each successive single builds upon what came before, another chapter in the musical journey with unique cover art proudly displayed on record shelves like collectibles. Great for vinyl enthusiasts, but ASC’s Sci-Files never saw a run with the black crack format, instead relegated to the shrug-inducing realm of digital downloads and online streaming. Guess Mr. Clements’ old home on Covert Operations Recordings didn’t have enough faith in his concept, or simply lacked the funds for a proper hard-copy deal. What I want to know is why didn’t they at least provide a CD version consolidating everything? Surely a run of a few hundred wouldn’t be that costly – even ASC’s new pseudo-home with Silent Season offer that, and they’re way out in the middle of West Coast Canada nowhere!

Of course, I’m moaning for the lack of a Sci-Files CD more for my own benefit, as it’d make my hobby-job easier this week. But nay, I must do each of these EPs one-by-one, as is my rule with any series of CDs. Except Volume One, as I don’t have the first.

Since we’re dealing with ASC of the ‘00s, ol’ James is still in traditional d’n’b mode, and Volume Two opens with Datura, as fine an offering of the atmospheric sort as you’re likely to ever hear. Okay, not ever-ever – I can’t know how much some of y’all consume. Datura though, she hits all the key components I vibe on with this style: deep echoing pads, light floating melodies, vocal samples transmitting from the cosmos, and enough clever drum programming that things never fall into stale loops. Following it is Earthtones, touching on most of the same atmospheric points, but settling for a tone that’s more grounded than the spacey Datura. Definitely recommended for those in need of LTJ Bukem alternatives.

Off to a good start then. Only four more to go. Dear Lord, I pray I don’t succumb to anecdotes too soon.

ASC - Nothing Is Certain

Nonplus Records: 2010

ASC’s been around a while, but in the wide world of drum–n-bass, he came across as just another guy in a sea of highly competent producers stuck following tried-and-tested formulae and genre tropes. Ain't a thing wrong with that, but somewhere along the way, James Clements got it inside his head that 'deebee' could be more than what was out there, that there were still musical roads yet explored. Fortunately, he found a pair of producers at a similar crossroad, Alex Green and Damon Kirkham of Instra:mental, and while those two were key in establishing labels that would promote their ideas, ASC turned into one of their most dependable contributors.

Their ‘microfunk’ work on Autonomic with dBridge earned them plenty of critical praise, but that was a short lived phase, more of a cul-de-sac if anything. About the same time, however, Alex Green set up Nonplus Records, and proposed a stunning question for the drum-n-bass scene: must we be held down by genre conventions? In short time, Nonplus offered an outlet for bass music producers to free themselves of their old shackles, purist fanbases be damned.

When ASC dropped Nothing Is Certain for Nonplus, it was as much a statement of the label's manifesto as it was a game-changer within Mr. Clements' discography. Here was a d'n'b guy, releasing an album on a label fronted by d'n'b guys, with barely a hint of d'n'b presented. For sure, the urban vibe of London bass music is still felt throughout the LP, but instead of reflecting on the clime's contemporary scenery, Nothing Is Certain looks to a possible future for the city. It's Detroit techno futurism for England, one of the few times this concept ever manifested itself within the d'n'b scene.

Yeah, future dystopia’s been a common theme in plenty of jungle, not to mention sci-fi inspired music too – heck, ASC alone released several mini-EPs titled Sci-Files before this one. The music here, however, keeps things grounded in metropolis landscapes, with little sinister about the environment as we casually cruise through neo-London streets late at night, sprawling skyscrapers towering over scattered novelty chip fryers. Classic electro is definitely a major competent here, tracks like Losing You, The Ubiquity Incident, and Matter Of Time begging for an icy-cool anime as visual accompaniment.

Of course, this isn’t the first time the UK’s dabbled down these sonic avenues, the early days of ambient techno, dub and IDM cropping up in ASC’s work here - Absent Mind has the bleepy hallmarks of Higher Intelligence Agency, while Yatta indulges in Autechre glitch-melancholy. For the most part though, such musical lineage is but a backbone, tracks like Lost For Words, The Depths, and Opus working within the world of post-dubstep and atmospheric jungle. In the process, Nothing Is Certain sounds remarkably unique, stylistic music that Clements has made his own. If you’ve resisted the hype behind ASC’s last half-decade of material, this album will convince you its deserved full stop.

Various - Montreal Mix Sessions Vol. 3: Dune (Double A & Twist)

Turbo: 1999

Without a doubt, this is among the strangest CDs in Turbo’s catalogue, if not the strangest. For a label that often prides itself on the quirky, that's quite an assumption to make, but keep in mind this DJ mix came out early in Turbo's life, when Tiga was still finding its identity. About all he had going for it was promotion of Montreal acts, and the occasional original production. As you were wont to do as a hip start-up, the Mix Sessions series focused on house and techno, almost unanimously with winning results. There's also a single, solitary drum 'n bass mix, because when you think of Tiga, Turbo, and even Montreal, jungle's always right up there with tech-house and electroclash. Or not.

I’m sure my fellow Canucks from the lands of French have just as vibrant a jungle scene as any major region of Canadaland, but you sure don’t hear much about it. Toronto’s got a huge following, Vancouver’s been respectable for many years, and even the Prairie Provinces earn props from semi-abroad. Quebec, though? Folksy music festivals and hipster dance-punk’s their thing, ain’it? Absolutely not, just ask Double A & Twist about it. Wait, are they still around? Damn you, Lord Discogs, and your occasional incompleteness!

Monsieurs Aaron Siegner and Oliver Sasse make up the duo, also going by the name Dune (no, not the happy hardcore act). Wait, is this the same Oliver Sasse of German trance Rodd-Y-Ler micro-fame? The Lord That Knows All suggests so, but I’m having my doubts, such wildly incompatible scenes they be. This Sasse, along with Siegner, were vital in developing what jungle scene Montreal had, produced a few tech-step singles for the legendary Reading label Basement Records, and even ran a short-lived label of their own. A decent run in the late ‘90s, then, though little that only the most ardent junglist will be familiar with. Or someone on the pulse of Montreal’s party scene.

So Tiga tapped Dune for the third volume of Montreal Mix Sessions, and the duo gives us a set of primarily tech-step sounds from acts like DJ Slip and Red One, names not exactly high on the minds of junglists even then, but decent enough offerings just the same. Midway through things go atmospheric and jazzsteppy, EZ Rollers’ Retro, PFM’s One And Only, and London Elektricity’s Song In The Key Of Knife sure to get any old-schooler’s nostalgia centres flaring. Dune returns us to the tech-step with a couple of their own tunes, then finishes out rough and nasty with Dom & Roland’s blinding darkstep cut Homicide. Oh, and a ‘classic call-back’ cut from Digital’s Spacefunk at the very end, because why not.

Montreal Mix Sessions 3’s decent enough for a d’n’b CD, though undoubtedly a victim of its surroundings. Turbo’s the last place junglists will look for music, and I can’t say Tiga’s typical following would find much use for Dune either. Best for local enthusiasts or Turbo completists, then.

Various - Macro Dub Infection, Volume 1

Virgin: 1995

Before he was turning dancehall heads as The Bug, Kevin Martin paid his flat money compiling a few CDs for Virgin Records. His first was the fourth volume of Virgin's double-disc ambient series showcasing acts from the genre's lengthy history, most of the prior volumes culling material from Virgin's own extensive back catalogue. Having exhausted all the familiar names though, they turned to Mr. Martin for his expertise on most things avant-garde, experimental, and dubby. Not sure what prompted Virgin’s show of faith in an oddball post-rocker, but his selections must have impressed the label enough to give him his own short-lived series, Macro Dub Infection. Or maybe Virgin just wanted in on that 'ambient dub house' trend The Orb spearheaded. Way to be late to the game, guys!

Still, Pre-Bug didn’t follow that rule by a long shot. Instead, he gathered up two CDs worth of dub-influenced music from across the electronic board. Some names and tunes are about as you’d expect from a compilation style-biting Beyond’s gimmick. Opener The Struggle Of Life from The Disciple hits all those classic ambient reggae-dub vibes, and other familiar jams from 2 Badcard, Rootsman, Automaton (Bill Laswell under his eight-zillionth alias) round out a first half of tunes most likely expected of a compilation titled Marcro Dub Infection. What’s that atmospheric jungle cut from Spring Heel Jack doing at the second position though? Yeah, there’s plenty of dubby affects at work in there, but no one said this was a drum ‘n’ bass collection too. Wait, Omni Trio’s on this as well? Pft, if you think that’s odd, get a load of classic industrial group Coil getting in on this action; not to mention indie post-rockers Tortoise, IDM wonk Bedouin Ascent, and ill trip-hoppers Skull vs. Ice. And that’s just CD1!

Frankly, ol’ Kev’ going off the proper deep end by showing off even the most tangently dub music out there (it’s an infection upon all musics!) is about the best way he could have put this together. Retreading the reggae-roots style so many others had before would be utterly redundant in 1995, and plenty others were filling in other aspects of dub (Planet Dog’s got the ethno-psy-dub covered, mang). Better to show off acts few would associate with the macro-genre while you have the chance.

Most interesting are the tracks by names that might have lured potential buyers based on chart recognition. The Paranormal In 4 Forms finds breaks pioneers 4 Hero running the gamut of ambient, trip-hop, jungle, and even classic techno in a span of eight minutes. Elsewhere on CD2, Tricky goes all weird abstraction with Ambient Pumpkin (oh hi, Goldfrapp). And I’ll take the ambient techno-dub style of Bandulu’s Come Forward any day, mainly because Macro Dub Infection’s the only place one can find this track.

In fact, there’s quite a few exclusives and rarities on this collection, just another of its selling points. Variety of music and extensive liner notes of dub’s history aren’t bad incentives either.

Doc Scott - Lost In Drum N' Bass

DMC Publishing Ltd.: 1996/1998

Amazingly, you can DJ various sub-genres of drum n’ bass in a given set. It’s rare, as most jungle micro-scenes prefer sticking to their chosen sound through and through. Occasionally though, a set offers a broader range of what one might find in the wide sonic world of 'deebee'; even rarer, one that showcases damn near everything.

Right, compared to the branches that scene splintered into at the turn of the millennium, there wasn’t much ‘everything’ in jungle by the mid-‘90s. I maintain it’s mighty impressive of early ‘ardcore veteran Doc Scott to pull together what was out there on Lost In Drum N’ Bass. Originally titled Breakbeat Experiments and released as part of Mixmag’s tape order-in promotional series Mixmag Live!, it found a re-issue in CD form shortly after. This wasn’t surprising, as Mixmag Live! did this for several tapes. Finding proper American distribution, however, hardly occurred, and when they did, it was primarily due to an American name on the cover (Moby, Hawtin, Derrick Carter, etc). Guess Moonshine, who oversaw DMC’s promotion here, figured those were the only selling names in our market. Oh ye’ of little faith, Moonshine.

By 1996, and the darkside of jungle old began waning, the stripped-down sound of tech-step the new hotness. Meanwhile, atmospheric jungle and jazzstep were gaining critical plaudits, but clearly miles away in tone and approach from the aggressive basslines of Technical Itch Studios. Not so, says Doc Scott, bringing the polar opposites of the drum ‘n’ bass scene together in fine fashion.

After opening with the jazzy atmospherics of Jonny L and Krust, we’re treated to the smooth-as-silk Lemon D. Remix of Art Of Noise’s Eye Of The Needle. Yes, that Art Of Noise, odd-ball ‘80s synth-poppers galore. Apparently there was a drum ‘n’ bass remix album of the band’s material released that year, which just goes to show how much the scene was making waves in the UK.

After all that pleasantness, Mr. McIlroy (!) brings out the harder stuff, including Dillinja’s bassbin demolishing Threshold (how many times have I said that about Dillinja?) and Adam F’s Metropolis, it no slouch in offering the rough business. A bit more of the dark stuff follows with Scott’s own Shadow Boxing (as Nasty Habits), then we’re back to jazzy, atmospheric d’n’b again. Yep, instead of continually piling on the aggressive sounds, Doc instead opts for a long ease out. How long? The first track of the final stretch is Krust’s Brief Encounter (12 Minutes), and there’s still four more tracks after that of similar ilk, Decoder’s jump-up Circuit Breaker the only surprising detour among Omni Trio and Jonny L (again).

I won’t deny being disappointed in Lost In Drum N’ Bass when I first heard it, but that’s because I was young, dumb, and only interested in the dark and hard (...wait). Of course, I appreciate Doc Scott’s offering far more now, for its uniqueness as a d’n’b mix CD along as a strong collection of tunes of the era.

Various - High Karate

Mutant Sound System: 1998

Don’t you dare do it. I know you want to, and to be fair, the artwork totally invites it. To judge the CD by its cover, however, is to deny yourself all-time class, yet hopeless rare drum ‘n’ bass. Oh, there’s some wack material on here too, but the choice cuts more than makes up for it, trust you me.

First, the particulars. High Karate comes care of Mutant Sound System, a short lived American label that existed in the late ‘90s. Between albums and compilations, they generally focused on jungle and other assorted broken-beat bass music, plus a brief early flirtation with abstract ambient. Mutant Sound System was far from an original label, all things considered, but they released just enough unique material to reward the deep diggers of electronic music, should you look past some of their occasional questionable cover art. To be honest though, had I not been going through a minor ‘otaku’ phase when I stumbled upon High Karate, I may have passed by this CD altogether.

Even then, it was a while before I truly came to appreciate the music on offer here. Like so many fresh 'deebee' followers of the late '90s, it was the fierce, rough 'n' ready sounds of tech-step and such darkside spawns that got my attention (and, um, a little jump-up too), and the few cuts on High Karate that deliver those sounds were the tunes I frequently returned to. The Ray Keith and Nookie remix of the classic Scottie from Subnation certainly delivers on those fronts, while tracks from L Double and Acetate offer all the over-the-top basslines you could want from such genres. Yet once the initial thrill of those drops wane, you're unfortunately left with tunes that go nowhere, running on fumes for durations that far exceed whatever ideas these producers initially came up with.

Thank God for Nookie, then! Gavin Cheung, that is. Nookie was his most prominent alias, though he also contributes to High Karate as Cloud 9, and believe you me when I say his tracks are easily the highlights. They find a smooth, cool ground between atmospheric jungle and jazzstep, the sort of music you can easily float on as you could cruise with through urban streets at midnight. And bizarrely, most of the tracks he provides to High Karate can only be found on this CD! It was over a decade before Snow White was rescued for an MP3 Nookie album titled Lost Files. The Cloud 9 material, including a mint remix of Victor Romeo's The Italian Job, officially exists nowhere else.

A few other stylish d'n'b cuts from DJ Rap, Da Boss, Peshay (as Revelations), Rogue Unit, and Dr. S. Gachet round out an incredibly mature sounding CD, given how cartoony the art is. High Karate isn't an essential purchase, mind, but if you're after some surprisingly ace, obscure jungle (or are just a Nookie completist), then definitely snag a copy if you happen across one. You can't miss that cover.

Various - Global Underground: Paul Oakenfold - Live In Oslo

Boxed: 1997

When I wrote the 2013 Update on that Dubfire Global Underground, Sharam’s offering was the only one available on the cheap. A couple weeks later though, while looking around for other material on Amazon, I found a few more Global Undergrounds in the ‘under-five’ price range. So what the hey, let’s grab them, since they’re surprising names to be rendered low.

“But wait,” you say, “this is Global F’n Undergroud! How can such a prestigious DJ mix series be so cheap?” (a likely crappy Sharam-solo effort notwithstanding) Well, these are used CDs, and sometimes they come in less-than-mint condition, which I'm perfectly fine with – chipped case here, minor doodles on the booklet there, a hint of white powder embedded, and so on. This Oakenfold one though... my goodness, but is it ever a disgrace. Jewel case wasn't the best, but the booklet appeared to have something poured on it, rendering all the pages stuck (until I tried prying them apart anyway, ripping them in the process). What was even spilled on this? Pop? Beer? The previous owner's splooge? Whatever. All that matters is the condition of the discs, which were fine.

So what is there to even say about Live In Oslo at this late stage? As the third entrant of the series, Global Underground was still finding its footing, trying to capture the superclub phenomenon without the direct superclub association. Swiping Oakenfold from his Cream residency of '97 certainly helped give them more clout, but it'd be another year or two before the series' mystique really took off, especially overseas where British media hype properly penetrated American clubbing (tapping other big-name DJs didn't hurt). At best, it’s fondly remembered as a unique addition to the Global Underground legacy compared to all the prog that came in the years after, so its weaknesses are overlooked.

Oh yeah, the music. This was during Oakenfold's 'jazzy, atmospheric jungle is cool' phase (really, all of Britain was on that), and the Side A of CD1 is where he indulges in the stuff. There isn’t anything here that someone with at least a passing fancy for Bukem won’t have heard before (and mixed better), but it’s a nice collection of tunes nonetheless. After that, plus the shameless plug of the Perfecto Mix of Olive’s You’re Not Alone, it’s all aboard the Balearic and Goa vibes. Standard stuff as far as most Oakenfold mixes of the era goes, yet I can’t complain about hearing Bedrock’s Forbidden Zone, Taucher’s Waters, Astral Projection’s Ionized, or Pablo Gargano’s Trance In Saigon again (Noob Sykonee fun-fact: for the longest time, I thought Chapel Of Rest’s Last Prayer was a remix of Banco de Gaia’s Heliopolis; silly, it’s just the same vocal sample).

Of course, Oakenfold’s mixing is naff – almost mixtape like in some parts – but then Global Underground hadn’t quite become the progressive standard yet. Definitely hints of potential in this early edition though, what with such a slick package and all. Except my copy, sadly.

Carol C - First Impressions

Topaz: 2000

Atmospheric jungle seemed like a flash-in-the-pan movement, a genre that had all the potential to sweep that scene by storm, but was overshadowed by its commercial-friendly sister-genre jazzstep. By the turn of the century, neither generated much attention from the press anymore, most interested in the emergent darkstep sound instead. Eventually jazzstep's soulful aesthetic was adopted by the liquid funk guys, while atmospheric went relatively dormant for a long while. There were a few one offs here and there, and Bukem's Good Looking Records never went away, but folks by and large considered the genre an artifact of mid-'90s partying.

A DJ mix such as this was considered dated even by the year 2000. Mind, it didn't help that Carol C opted to use many tracks from atmospheric jungle's high point, but it does beg the question why someone would bother to release such a CD at that point. In fact, why would Topaz, a label that was making its mark as a progressive trance outlet, take a dip in this genre at all? Were they so inspired by Paul Oakenfold's Global Underground: Oslo set that they had to get themselves in on some of that 'dolphin d'n'b'? Was Carol C such a big fan of that sound that, for a debut mix CD, it was atmospheric or nothing at all? Was it just the trendy thing for all start-up labels to offer at least one drum'n'bass release, even if their potential audience could care less for it?

Perhaps some of these questions can be answered in figuring out who Carol C is. First Impressions is her only DJ mix CD credited, and it appears she’s had a career of producing and singing funk and nu-soul in the group Si*Sé since then. That makes a fondness for the jazzy side of jungle a good match, but still doesn’t answer much about her skill on the decks, much less why Topaz would have tapped her of all DJs for a mix such as this. Buddies with Scott Stubbs, mayhaps?

Okay, enough questions. How’s the music then. Nothing revolutionary, but if you find yourself jonesing for just a little more jungle on an LTJ tip, you’ll be in fine hands with First Impressions. Most of the major names for atmospheric, jazzy d’n’b show up, including Omni Trio, Zed Bias, Shogun, Jonny L, plus lighter moments from Technical Itch and The Advocate. And that’s all the names on this CD. Yep, of the ten tracks used, four acts get two tracks each. No wonder the tone is consistently maintained in this mix, there’s barely any crate diggin’ to be had!

I can’t hate on First Impressions for that though, as the music’s pretty class as most mid-‘90s atmospheric jungle’s wont to be. If I’ll give this mix any credit, it’s that Carol C selected tunes outside the Good Looking Records library. On the other hand, maybe Topaz couldn’t clear the rights to those.