AstroPilot - Here And Now

Altar Records: 2010

Dmitriy Redko was a busy body in 2010 – or rather, his new home on Altar Records was busy for him, releasing a whopping four LPs under the AstroPilot banner. Man, label head DJ Zen must have thoroughly enjoyed Fruits Of The Imagination to go all-in on whatever else the Siberian psy guy had stored up. Since this has a latter catalogue number following Solar Walk, Shamanium, and Mitra, I’ll assume Here And Now was the current stuff Redko was working on; the title’s a pretty safe hint too.

AstroPilot’s work ethic has earned him a solid reputation within the psy scene, capably flitting various sub-genres like few others. His tracks have found homes on ambient compilations, psy dub collections, progressive trance mixes, and even tech-plonk house showcases. Okay, not that last one, but it wouldn’t surprise me if Redko’s got some stored away, gathering digital dust on a harddrive untl he decides to go house (they all go house, eventually). While I wouldn’t put him quite on par with some of Ultimae’s Solar stars, he’s definitely up in their leagues, and might even have released LPs there if he hadn’t joined Altar. Well, that whole ‘not exclusively a chill-out producer’ part probably didn’t help either. That’s why you make multiple aliases, mang!

Anyhow, let’s focus on the here and now with Here And Now. Mr. Redko’s mostly taking on prog psy’s domain with this album, though he doesn’t limit himself there either, throwing in breaks and even ...glitch-step breakcore? Wha...? Oh, it’s a collaboration with another Russian psy guy named Pharmacore. Whichever style you call it, at least you can play it at both 88 and 176 bpm!

That’s just an outlier though, a bit of experimentation tacked on to album’s end. Like I said, prog psy’s the name of AstroPilot’s game on Here And Now, and he serves up a bevy of choice cuts for the synapses. I mean, geez, Karma Cleaner! What a lush sounding track this is! Solid pumping groove, glowing goa trance licks, evocative ethnic singing coming in from astral planes, and widescreen production that’s utterly bonkers in how expansive it makes this track sound. Prog psy’s not supposed to sound this big. Other tracks likeHiding Wings and Time Tides are equal to Karma Cleaner’s bar, though a bit more straight-forward where this style’s concerned.

Other tunes mix the formula further, with Memories Maze throwing in breaks at the start before unleashing some propulsive psy action; meanwhile Indigo goes for the full-on breakbeat action. And speaking of full-on, there’s bloody ‘buttrock’ guitar thrash in Variants, and when did this album suddenly get all fierce and nasty on us? The ramp in energy was so gradual, I hardly noticed it.

I knew AstroPilot was a good producer, but that was based off his Solar Walk material. I had no idea he could offer just as awesome yang to those albums’ yins. Get on Here And Now if you’ve even the slightest interest in psy music. Trust.

Space Manoeuvres - Oid

Lost Language: 2005

John Graham probably never intended his Space Manoeuvres side-project to go anywhere, the alias likely only created as a means to release Stage One as a one-off. It was years before any significant follow-up with this guise appeared, and by then most of the hype for another Space Manoeuvres tune had faded - heck, when he released Part 3 in 2004, he piggy-backed it on Quivver. So when a full album of Space Manoeuvres material did appear, it caught most by surprise. Well, if you had any investment in the progressive scene anyway.

Maybe Lost Language convinced Graham to give Space Manoeuvres the proper LP treatment, or he’d simply produced enough back-catalogue with the alias to warrant a release such as Oid. The latter’s most likely the answer, as this album’s little more than a gathering of tracks old and new. At least it gave Lost Language an excuse to re-release Stage One again, since it’d been a whopping seven years since that tune had first come out. Oh 2005, how many trance anthems did you recycle?

Whatever, I’m always game hearing Stage One again. The ridiculously infectious synth stabs, lovely sonic depth justifying the space handle Graham aimed for, classy progressive trance rhythms, and those dialog samples! Tell me your spine doesn’t tingle at the mere mention of “Any crew?” “Negative.” It doesn’t? Oh, you haven’t heard Stage One yet. Come back after you have.

By the time Graham got around to producing most of these Space Manoouuooveeerees tracks, late ‘90s progressive trance was already out of fashion, the simpler Coldharbour stylee the new hotness. Thus Part Three and Quadrant Four would fit snugly in a Markus Schulz set of the time, but with a groovier space aesthetic. While not as memorable as Stage One (and let’s be honest: nothing else on Oid is), they’re solid offerings for the sound. Oh, and Zone Two was produced specifically for Oid, so don’t go thinking the track titles are a direct chronological record of Space Manoeuvres tracks – though Zone Two does have some similarities with his 2001 dark prog single Pluto Disko.

At the end of Oid, Graham indulges himself a little outside the traditional prog template. While Pentexplorer goes on the downbeat (it’s space-hop! ...or not), Division Six has ol’ John posing the question, “Hey, remember progressive breaks?” Why yes, yes I do. They were awesome. So is Division Six for that matter. Not so awesome is The Seventh Planet though, or rather Stage One (Leama & Moor Mix). I can hear they were going for a blissy chill-out vibe, but compared to similar material Ultimae was kicking out at the time, this is cheesy pap. Blegh.

Forgetting that last track, Oid’s a fine enough album of spacey prog, though don’t go in expecting Stage One over and over. That may disappoint some, but considering the odds of a Space Manoeuvres LP coming to light were long anyway, I can’t complain with the results.

Sasha & John Digweed - Northern Exposure: Expeditions

Ultra Records: 1999

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lab 4 - None Of Us Are Saints (Original TC Review)

Resist Music: 2006

(2014 Update:
I'll keep this short, because Lord knows this old review's too long as it is - the upcoming Northern Exposure reviews will have fewer words combined than what I spent detailing this album with.

So, how awesome is it that Lab 4 went out as they did, eh? Legacy intact, no cringe-worthy bandwagon jumps, forever maintained as one of the UK's most fondly remembered live hard-dance acts. Both members still play out at occasional solo gigs, but the Lab 4 mystique remains as solid as ever. That's how you do it in this business, friends, though a reunion tour in a couple more years wouldn't hurt no one, nosiree I says.)


IN BRIEF: A dark light in the realms of hard dance.

It’s been a long time since I willingly dove into any modern hard dance music. As I’m sure many previous reviews [at TranceCritic] can attest to, the reason for this is simple: a lot of it isn’t any good. Many producers have such a hard-on over pushing the ‘loud’ factor to extremes with all this new technology, they seem to have forgotten how to actually write anything other than a massive breakdown/build with tuneless screeching synths bookended by throbbing beats. Granted, hardcore never was about subtlety, but at least the hooks were memorable back in the day. When not pillaging old tunes for inspiration, everything sounds like toss-offs for DJs lately.

But perhaps my impressions of this music are due to what’s been handed to me to review, an admittedly lackluster bunch of DJ mixes and singles. Perhaps my recent distaste for it would be cured, or at least lessened, were I to hear a better offering. Perhaps what I need is a familiar trusted name to ease me back into the fold. Enter Lab 4.

Adam Newman and Les Elston harken back to an era when live PAs ruled the roost and the DJ merely warmed them up. And despite the glorification of the guy who just plays records since, Lab 4 have held their own as a live act. Their continued domination of the UK’s hard dance circuits lies in their uncompromising blend of aggressive synths and devastating beats. Yet, unlike many hard dance acts, Lab 4 have also managed to keep from falling into self-parody; their tracks will often push you to the threshold but rarely to idiotic extremes, no easy feat in a scene where the phrase ‘less is more’ is blasphemy.

So what kind of hard dance does a pair of gearheads produce? Why, anything that comes to mind obviously. And instead of playing favorites to a particular scene, Lab 4 instead aim to give you a taste of everything. The result is two discs worth of music, which begs a question: is there enough diversity in the hard dance realm to maintain one’s interest for nearly one-hundred sixty minutes? Well, your typical hardstyle fanboy will yell, “Fuck yeah ”, but their idea of diverse tracks ends with two different notes in an eight-bar synth riff. What about those with a more discerning taste?

Just enough. Each disc wisely mixes the tracks between techno stompers and hardcore bosh-fests instead of separating the two, which keeps things from sounding too repetitive (and believe me, it can get very repetitive fast). Also, Lab 4 doesn’t settle for just a couple genres of hard dance; every track has a unique twist that helps it stand out from the rest. But before we talk about those, let’s check out the opener of each disc, both of which are breakbeat!

Well, Restless World is only half breakbeat before settling into standard hard house. This one’s not all that good, mainly for the fact two singing divas clash horribly like a bad mash-up. The Syndicate though, now that’s some tasty action-movie big beat there.

Alright then. The techno. Unfortunately, this is all over the map. Lab 4 decide the best route for this material is in mechanical sounds, which has always been techno’s playground. However, their choice of sounds isn’t terribly interesting. At best, they’ll have some quirkiness to them that’ll intrigue (The Ritual and Use The Nitro are good examples) but at worst, they come across like weak Plastikman impressions (the god awful Nightmare). Mainly though, when the rhythms are showing some cleverness aside from straight-forward plodding (Use The Nitro in particular actually comes across rather funky given the surroundings), these techno cuts are decent enough.

Some of them also make use of chunky acid assaults. Now, normally I’m all for acid tweakege, but Lab 4 don’t quite go for the jugular as we’ve known they have in the past. Tracks like Daisy Cutter and Blackstar aren’t nearly as exciting as they could be, but that could also be due to rote rhythms in those tracks (although Blackstar does have a decent, albeit unassuming, bassline). And what exactly were they shooting for in Efini? What a mess that one turned out.

Ultimately though, we’re here to hear some big hooks and pounding beats. On this front, our intrepid duo doesn’t disappoint. Some may be quick to lump it into the hardstyle category, but there is a very important distinction here that makes the beats oh so much better: whereas hardstyle will compress the effects on their kicks so much that it punches you in the gut and creates zero resonance, Lab 4 let that resonance carry to huge levels. When they unleash their thunderous kicks, Lab 4 can make even the smallest stereo sound as big as any stadium; loud and enveloping. As for your hooks, they certainly are big and noisy for all to enjoy, but there are a few stumbles at points as well.

To get it out of the way, here’s my one gripe: some of these breakdowns go on for too bloody long. Mind, I’m not talking about Scot Project levels of idiocy, but whenever Lab 4 dawdle in a breakdown to let synths play with big pauses, it kills the momentum of the track. Neu Messiah is a particular annoying example of this, mainly because the payoff just doesn’t live up to all that downtime. In other tracks like 4 Those About 2 and Pump It, it’s just enough, but nothing to get terribly excited about, especially compared to what else is on here.

Ah, yes. With all the rudimentary material out of the way, we finally, we get to the goods... almost (Hah! How’s this for Scot Project levels of teasing, eh?). First off, I must mention the Guilty Pleasures of these hard tracks. Hellboy: once again proving apocalyptic choirs and hardcore beats go wonderfully together. The NRG: unabashedly reach-for-the-lasers trancecore; normally I hate this stuff but as a one-off here, sure what the hell. The Uprising: rabble-rousing hooligan fun. Alright, now I will get to the goods.

Let’s face it. When Lab 4 step up to the plate for hard dance of this caliber, you’re guaranteed a home-run; a tomahawk jam; a spin-o-rama deke backhander into the top corner of the net gloveside. Their choice of hooks and synths are frighteningly aggressive, which goes incredibly well with their chaotic arrangements. You feel you’re on a roller-coaster to Hell, with the wheels just barely clinging to the tracks as you freewheel into the pit. Gangstah, Invaderz, and the new mixes of Groove Overdrive and Requiem all deliver on these fronts. Oh, and yes, their cover (remix?) of the Nine Inch Nails track Perfect Drug.

This track shows just how good these guys are at what they do. On paper, Perfect Drug is filled with ingredients that have made me despise hardstyle as of late: typical hardstyle beats (it still carries resonance, but it certainly is far more compressed than most of the other tracks); that stupid synth that sounds like screeching tires; a hook that isn’t their own. However, once all the establishing elements sort themselves out and things get down to business, this track absolutely destroys my cynicism towards this stuff. After all, if you’re going to go hard, why not unleash everything you got, mother-fucking breakbeats and all.

Of the two remixes of Perfect Drug included here, Nightbreed’s is a functional jungle go in the Dieselboy vein. DJ Starscream’s remix is delightfully demented though. Big throbbing beats and glitchy tuneless effects make up the bulk, occasionally teasing you with the chorus until he finally gives you what you’re craving (both at the same time) at the very end. Add this one to the Guilty Pleasure list.

I’m sure all the hardstyle fanboys out there are thinking they’ve managed to ‘win one’ for their side after all the nice things I’ve had to say about None Of Us Are Saints, but I’d hold off on that parade just yet. Lab 4 is undoubtedly one of the premier acts in the hard dance scene... or at least they used to be. It would seem the duo has decided to take an indefinite hiatus from touring and producing, and they do deserve a well-earned break after all this time. Unfortunately, it does create an uncertain void out there, one of which may be difficult to fill. Are there any acts out there willing to step up their game and meet the challenge? Maybe, maybe not. If not though, their absence will be felt.

Although this release may not be consistent all the way through (very few double albums are, to be honest), when they are on their game Lab 4 show why they will be missed. Too few hard dance acts manage to balance reckless assaults with enduring hooks anymore, and that scene has suffered as a result. Sure, the new kiddies still get their kicks with the new stuff, but Newman and Elston give us ‘older’ folks (we’re talkin’ late 20s/early 30's, heh) something to satisfy our craniums while boshing away.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2006. © All rights reserved.

The Prodigy - No Good (Start The Dance)

XL Recordings: 1994

If any single perfectly encapsulated The Prodigy's transition from fun-time hardcore rave act to gritty thrash-dance heroes, it would have to be No Good. Following the commercial success (and critical backlash) of Experience, Liam Howlett saw it necessary for a change of direction, keeping five steps ahead of the imitators that had sprung up. One Love was the first step, mostly abandoning spastic breakbeats and chipmunk vocals in favour of serious shit like ethnic chants and didgeridoos. Um, more on that one at a later date.

Before all the fierce punk attitudes that defined Music For The Jilted Generation’s legacy came into being, Mr. Howlett still had regular ravey tunes on the mind, including big riffs and poppy vocal samples. Using the same Kelly Charles hook that Hithouse did was far from a unique idea, and Liam later expressed his early doubts over it, already being such a played out vocal. A testament to his brilliant song-writing, then, that he not only kept the You’re No Good For Me line, but made it his own in the process, retaining the underground cred’ he was hard at work re-establish for The Prodigy. Hell, it sure convinced me: my first exposure to it was Jack To The Sound Of Underground, yet every time I hear Ms. Charles now, it’s No Good that fires off in my memory banks.

The synth riffs are punchy and not all that dissimilar to typical 'techno' tearing up charts of the time, but there an air of menace to them; the happy days are over, yo'. And those rhythms, mang! Liam already had a knack for killer beat-craft, yet his Experience stuff was looser, often frenetic for frenzy’s sake. The beats in No Good, however, feel tighter and more propulsive than anything Liam had made before. It’s dance music with purpose and intent, from which much of Jilted Generation’s style took cues from.

Completing the ‘transformative’ act was the video. Early Prodigy videos were goofy and wacky, which suited the music Howlett was producing at the time fine. If he was taking his work back underground though, he needed a visual accompaniment that reflected his manifesto. Thus, what better setting for a proper illegal than an abandoned warehouse, complete with enthusiastic dancers (Flint and Thornhill included) and freaks of society (um, Flint again) inhabiting the place? Shot in black and white (sans some yellow in Maxim’s cat iris contact lenses), the strobe effects greatly enhance an already rough rave setting, the sort of party that continues to get romanticized as how the scene should be maintained. That said, I’ve no idea what the point of Howlett’s ‘Prodge Smash!’ bit at the end’s all about.

The Bad For You Mix is essentially the same song taken down typical techno-rave roads, while CJ Bolland’s Museum Mix digs deep into the 4am acid hole. Both are worthy rubs of the original, but not as memorable. Admit it, No Good’s been playing in your head the moment you saw the title.

Various - FabricLive.34: Krafty Kuts

Fabric: 2007

*cover art brought to you by FabricLive’s “Cave Drawings In Water-Colours” period*

I’ve generally taken the conditions these used Fabric CDs arrive in for granted. With such a simple design, how can the packaging get screwed over anyway? Cardboard sleeve, tin case, aluminum disc and liner notes within - we’re good to go, right? I never thought one would be shipped with no case, but Krafty Kuts’ FabricLive.34 proved me wrong. All I got was the CD tucked within the sleeve, and wrapped in one of the most ghetto cardboard packaging jobs I’ve ever seen. How this was even allowed advertised as an acceptable condition to sell on Amazon, I’ll never know. I was fortunate enough to have spare jewel cases so I could still stack it in my towers, though I had to 'craftily cut' the cardboard sleeve’s edges to make it fit. Hah!

Anyhow. Krafty Kuts is the man up next in FabricLive, which meant a brief return to the proper breaks scene for the series – like hardcore, it'll never die! Martin Reeves made his name during the nu-skool era, though he leaned more classic hip-hop breakin' compared to the Plumps and Warriors of those days. With a career that held strong even during that scene's downswing, it was an eventuality Fabric would come a knockin' for a taste of those killer Kuts. Probably didn't hurt he'd released a debut album the year prior, his name fresh on the minds of folks still following tunes of his sort.

If you know your breaks, FabricLive.34 probably won't hold many surprises, but you'll enjoy it nonetheless, Krafty craftily sticking to his breaks-and-butter throughout while throwing in knowing winks to those heads that never fled their scene. There’s scratching aplenty, acapellas aplenty, and most of the main players have tracks dropped in here: DJ Icey, Freestylers, Aquasky, and Plump DJs, although the Plump’s Listen To The Baddest is practically electro-house. Come to think of it, most of the middle of this set skews 2007 electro, including copious amounts of the swinging 2-step break that’s only the second most boring broken-beat around (‘Freeland breaks’ earns the top prize).

Speaking of the set’s middle portions, Mr. Kuts unfortunately runs out of steam after leaning a bit too heavy on anthems for a while. A shame since FabricLive.34 kicks off with all the energy you could hope for in a breaks mix (including a cheeky pisstake on ‘minimal’ techno), but builds and drops one after the other always grow tiresome without some sustained rhythmic momentum. Ah well, he at least indulges himself some with a few Latin cuts and even Primal Scream at the end. A strong finish, in other words, even if it’s on a totally different tangent from where his set started from.

Was This Worth The Pennies Paid For It?
I’m mostly nitpicking about Krafty Kuts’ set flow - can’t be calling this blog Electronic Music Critic without finding something to critique, after all. A solid CD of breaks, then.

Various - fabric 32: Luke Slater

Fabric: 2007

*cover art brought to you by fabric’s “Tacky Fifties Family Fotos” period*

Luke Slater is Planetary Assault Systems, L.B. Dub Corp, Clementine, and Translucent, all very important aliases in the world of techno. I guess Slater under his own name’s important too, what with four LPs, over a dozen singles, and oodles of remixes too. P.A.S.’ the one most techno disciples enjoy namedropping though, and for good reason, the project always two steps ahead of what that scene is accomplishing. But that’s the underground, where he could take more risks. As plain, simple Luke Slater, his productions were broader, dabbling in other genres like downtempo, breaks, house, and even *gasp*, electro-crossover on Alright On Top. It’s curious he never made another “Luke Slater” album after that one.

Really, his whole career went into a relative limbo during the mid-‘00s, likely due to focusing his efforts on running his newly established Mote-Evolver imprint. During that time though, Slater put out a mix for Fabric, only the third mix CD he’s ever released (the two-part Fear And Loathing ran a couple years prior). Maybe it’s for the best, as judging by fabric 32, I suspect studio DJing really isn’t Mr. P.A.S.’ strong suit.

If I can take anything from fabric 32, it’s that ol’ L.B. has an eclectic ear for techno. Not that his own discography wasn’t proof enough, but this mix is all over the place, showing off plenty branches of the genre. There’s dub techno, minimal techno, electro techno (?), prog-techno (!?), disco punk techno (!!?), techno-techno (stop making shit up), and breaks too. Really, this has all the hallmarks of a mixtape, Luke Skyslater showing off his musical interests without much care for technical mixing. Fine and well if the set flows all the same, but fabric 32 doesn’t.

His transitions are often so abrupt, half the time I’m double-taking, thinking I’ve got my player on Random by accident. Some DJs can pull such freewheeling set programming into a thrilling, unexpected ride. This one’s just confusing, Slater unable to settle into any sound for long before throwing an odd tangent. You’d think a set that starts with his own dub techno cut Rhythm Division (as L.B. Dub Corp), and features Basic Channel’s Phylyps Trak II/II near the end (geez, again?) would flow smoothly. Instead, your links are Guy J & Sahar Z’ Hazui (Gui Boratto Remix), Switch’s A Bit Patchy, Spank Rock’s Bump (Switch Remix), Audion’s Mouth To Mouth, The Juan MacLean’s Love Is In The Air (Mock And Toof Remix), and Marin Buttrich’s Full Clip - and yes, in that order. True, there are other tracks among them, but that list gives a decent impression of how Slater’s set unfolds. If you’re familiar with those names anyway (folks reading this blog should be).

Was This Worth The Pennies Paid For It?
If it’s an honest representation of Luke Slater’s DJing, I guess so. Though a disappointment, it beats paying cover charge at a club to sate the curiosity.

Various - FabricLive 08: Plump DJs

Fabric: 2002

*cover art brought to you by FabricLive’s “Urban Silhouettes” period*

Despite residing within a breaks scene that faded into near-irrelevancy as the ‘00s wore on, Plump DJs’ stock never fell. That’s what happens when you almost single-handedly dictate the way a genre goes forward, in this case nu-skool breaks. Sure, plenty of other names could be dropped that were just as influential (must… resist…), but Misters Gardner and Rous always remained one step ahead in the production game, tracks just that bit more polished and class compared to their peers. Small wonder, then, that Fabric would tap the breaks duo for one of their early editions of FabricLive, pretty much the first outside breaks act receiving the honor (Ali B was already a resident at Fabric). On the other hand, they had to follow up John Peel’s mix, an almost thankless task in measuring up to his eclectic variety of music.

Just as well they didn’t try – they had their own Fabric quarterly to promote, after all. And a new album soon (Eargasm). Plus that whole Wipeout: Fusion tie-in (one track and two remixes!). Also at least five of their own productions for this mix. Goodness, are Plump DJs ever savvy business men. Well, maybe not so much with that entry into the dying Global Underground series. Whatever, they command top billing everywhere they play out, a couple missteps along the way can’t hurt. Please tell me the stupid-as-shit ‘anthem house’ track Skylon isn’t indicative of their current sound… (*dong-dong-dong-dong, dong-dong-dong-dong dong*)

FabricLive 08 isn’t too surprising of a set if you know your breaks from 2003. There’s nods to the old school like Nation 12’s Listen To The Drummer (from ’91), plus a couple cheeky mash-ups of their own tracks with tunes of yore, including Screen 2’s garage house retro-hit Hey Mr. DJ (the Plump’s rub of Mr. Velcro Fastener’s Electrical Appliances serves the rhythmic backbone), and Punch Drunk cut with Donna Summer’s I Feel Love to end the set. That might be a little cliché (who doesn’t mash Summer with something?), but at least they used their own track for the gimmick.

Aside from that, we’re mostly in funky territory. If you must know the requisite deviations, here we go: a little chemical-acid stylee in Angelfish, their collaboration with Ali B; electro gets its nod on Chad Jackson’s Energise (a former DMC champion, no less); Evil Nine offers us something more space-based with Cakehole; and Soul Of Man comes strong with the tribal business on The Drum. Still, I couldn’t help but keep expecting Big Groovy Fucker to show up. It’s as though Plump DJs curates a very specific sound of their own (not the first person to realize this).

Was This Worth The Pennies Paid For It?
Yeah, I’d say so. If you’re a fan of breaks and somehow missed out on Plump DJs in their prime, FabricLive 08’s a decent starting point, though the Urban Underground mini-series earned them more attention than this one.

Various - fabric 08: Radioactive Man

Fabric: 2002

*cover art brought to you by Fabric’s “Future Technology In Cottage Climate” period*

While it’s rare fabric covers have anything to do with the featured DJ, it can’t be a coincidence a radio dish is on the cover for Radioactive Man’s contribution to the series. Yeah, I know, Keith Tenniswood’s alias has nothing to do with actual radio transmissions, but it’s a nice bit of cover continuity for a series almost devoid of such.

The man behind Man is part of a circle of London producers that every critic worth their salt frequently slobbers over, including respected names like Andrew Weatherall, James Lavelle, and David Holmes. Mr. Tenniswood was the electro-IDM chap, a sort of British option for those who dug Anthony Rother and Aux 88. No surprise, then, his offering of fabric 08 is primarily an electro affair. Wait, hold the cell-phone! Breakbeats, in the main series? What an uncertain time these early fabrics were – daring, bold, unsettled within trends.

Well, not quite. This being 2003, electro clashcoresynth was still a hot sound. Radioactive Man skews closer to the proper realms of robot-funk, but he isn’t resistant to that action either. At least he had the good sense to use his 2 Lone Swordsmen (with Weatherall) guise as the ease-in point for the sound. Dot Allison never sounded so seductively sleazy! Following it with the hopelessly obscure Touch Me from Sweetie though? Aw, now you’re just showing off your crates, mate. No, also fitting in another Weatherall collaboration with Explode as the one-off Basic Unit doesn’t count as digging. Sounds like you’re trying to get in on that International Deejay Gigolo action anyway.

After that, it’s mostly a pure electro workout, save a brief detour into nu-skool breaks care of Koma + Bones’ Powercut. Ah, it’s not far removed from Tenniswood’s take on electro anyway, so it’s all good. Also good are cuts from Imatran Voima (mmm, In/Out’s some fine robot music, ‘tis), Anthony Rother (because of course), charming electro synth-poppers Kit Builders (Bolz Bolz providing the rub on Wake Up), and a cheeky mash-up of Princess Superstar’s hot-as-Hell Fuck Me On The Dancefloor overtop ravey electro Rottenrow from Dirty Hospital.

Radioactive Man also gets a track of his own in twice with ’Ave That, a total head scratcher. It’s… electro speed garage? Oh dear. And then Tim Wright’s remix takes it down 2-step’s road right after. I …guess this is cool in the UK? Or a joke on Tenniswood’s part? The latter wouldn’t surprise me, given he uses a made-up comic book character within a cartoon for this alias.

Was This Worth The Pennies Paid For It?
Absolutely. Tenniswood’s career hasn’t led him into the DJ studio often, but he capably handles himself here with good set flow and a varied selection of tunes without straying far from his chosen sound of expertise (though speed garage, really!?). Plus, how often do we get to hear proper electro in a fabric mix? Not often enough, says I.

Various - Tunes Of The Year 2001

Muzik Magazine: 2002

Though stuck in the hinterlands of Canada for a while, my job at a music shop kept me a step ahead of my pals on many things electronic music orientated. Such was the perk of receiving promotional material with every order, scouring about for intriguing new artists and albums. What’s that, Nu-Skool Nick, you’ve found an online music hub called Napster where you can download anything you want? That’s nice to hear, but do you know what you want to hear? It’s one thing to snag up older discographies, but what about the new hotness? Plus, you gotta wait for someone to upload that shit anyway, and the only way to do that is after someone buys a physical copy first (occasional leaks notwithstanding). And there was only one place in town to go if you wanted new music as soon as it hit the Rupert streets. Well, okay, a couple places, but I was the only place that’d order underground electronic music. So bow to my superior knowledge of the scene, fellow Rupert people, bwahaha!

Then I left, started reading Muzik Magazine, and discovered I knew jack shit about anything. Oh, sure, we had Mixer over here, and a few forums helped fill out some blanks, but most of what we got was still the heavily promoted names, sounds, and DJ mixes anyone could find in a typical HMV ‘electronica’ section. All the coverage Muzik provided showed there was a layer of electronic music few on my side of the pond bothered with, and in my OCD way of wanting to learn everything, eagerly consumed their gospel.

Such blind faith wasn’t earned without some effort though. While I enjoyed the print, those first couple free CDs weren’t enough to convince me outright Muzik was better than others. Then came the January 2002 issue, which included a CD spotlighting the best tunes of 2001. Before even looking at the names or tracks, I questioned the point of such a collection when the previous CD was already a “Best Of” based on Muzik’s awards; plus, I barely knew any of the names. New Order, of course; Slam, definitely; Björk, absolutely; Timo Maas, I think so. And yet, I hadn’t heard anything essential from these names, much less new-to-my-eyes acts like Chocolate Puma, Bent, The Rhythm Masters, or Bel Amour. Surely Muzik was stretching their notions of what constituted essential.

Hell no, they were totally right. Between prog, house (of all sorts), downtempo, and breaks, their selections opened the lid on what I thought clubbing music could entail. All those drab ‘Crasher and Cream discs didn’t deserve their shelf space if it was holding back Ashley Beedle’s remix of Always or glorious disco-loop house like Agent Sumo’s 24 Hours. If Muzik was in the know about such ace material unheralded in the Americas, then their other recommendations had to be mint as well. Thus began my downloading campaign from them, and all those Mixed Goods discs. Yay.

Various - Muzik Magazine Dance Awards 2001 Vol. 1: The Party

Muzik Magazine: 2001

It’s gotta’ be quite the ego boost holding your own awards ceremony, convincing others your insights and rankings hold weigh over others in the same field of expertise. Music journalism’s no different, nearly every rag with even marginal sway taking time out of their regular reporting for yearly ‘Best Of’ articles. If they have enough financial backing, they can even hand out little trophies at parties! I think the only electronic music magazines that still have that sort of clout are Mixmag and DJMag, but during clubbing’s last commercial peak at the turn of the millennium, several others got in on that action too, including Muzik.

Well, if there's any rag's awards I'd trust, it'd be Muzik's. I can't recall off-hand who won what, though Norman Cook, Sasha, and some bloke from New Order were on the cover, so they must have won something – maybe that cigar Sasha’s smoking? Oh, and a trashy looking Erol Alkan posing with his Best New DJ/Clubnight/Something trophy was hi-lar-ious!

With any music awards, there must also be a music CD spotlighting tunes. There were two giveaways with the awards issue, though us folks in the Americas only got The Party disc – some licensing hiccup denied us the other option, turns out. From what Lord Discogs tells me, we weren't missing much with The Future disc, what with names like PMT, Chris Coco, and Dirty Vegas in that track list. Not too hot a prediction regarding tastemakers of tomorrow on Muzik's part there, though at least they got that James Holden chap right.

Muzik Magazine Dance Awards 2001 Vol. 1: The Party features the sort of tracks you’d expect to rake in ‘Best Of’ lists for that year. Felix da Housecat’s Madam Hollywood, Fatboy Slim’s Star 69 by way of a techy remix, Röyksopp’s Eple, Stanton Warriors’ Da Virus, and Danny Tenaglia’s rub of Depeche Mode’s I Feel Loved all make the cut. Also, the track list offers a solid snapshot of all the trendy sounds running around the UK that year. Oxide & Neutrino’s Nuff Of Dem Watch Me shows off the emergent grime scene, Silicone Soul’s The Answer gets its groovy deep tech-house soul moving, trip-hop’s still in cool-mode thanks to Goldfrapp’s Utopia, and them th’ar nu skool, nu-nu-skool breaks have their moment thanks to Plump DJs’ Big Groovy Funker. Aw yeah, it’s like I’m playin’ Wipeout Fusion all over again!

Of course, anyone with a solid ear to the ground in 2001 would have gotten most of these tunes anyway. Well, maybe not that Warren Clarke Mix of Banda Sonora’s Guitarra G - while some seriously funky Latin Balearic house music, disco and French house were the king and tyrant of club land. This only helps prove that Muzik, for as snarky and off-base they could sometimes be, at least tried their damndest to promote fresh, unheralded sounds. I’ve yet to find a comparable replacement in contemporary EDM journalism, and maybe never will. Guess I’ll just continue ripping off their quips.

The Prodigy - Music For The Jilted Generation

XL Recordings: 1994

Probably the most successful reboot of a musical act ever accomplished, at least within the world of electronic music. Several have tried re-invention or adopted alternate aliases to explore other genres, but The Prodigy's flip from chart-topping happy rave hardcore act to credible guardians of the underground party is nothing short of remarkable. Just a couple years prior, everyone associated them with fun goofball hits like Charly and Out Of Space. Then, seemingly overnight, they're confronting you with punk attitudes and music to match. The Prodigy never lost their hardcore, they snatched it back from those who'd turned it into a joke.

What’s amazing about Music For The Jilted Generation is, while clearly a ‘90s album, it somehow exists out of time too. You throw on Experience, and you instantly know it’s of the early ‘90s hardcore scene. Fat Of The Land is undeniably part of big beat’s major market push, and anything released post-Millennium sounds exactly like that. The music on this album, however, didn’t have a scene to itself, and never would because no one tried emulating Jilted Generation - with any success anyway.

I suppose you could mark some tunes like Their Law and Poison as proto-big-beat, but what of the other tracks? Liam Howlett’s still using high-energy breakbeats, but rather than coupling them with rolling pianos and chipmunk vocals, you get synths that snarl, guitars that thrash, and rhythms that’ll have you moshing just as much as flailing. Plus, Jilted Generation’s pacing is impeccable, great memorable tunes like Break & Enter and Voodoo People interspersed perfectly with uptempo filler techno. Believe me, I use the word ‘filler’ as a good thing here, Full Throttle, Speedway and The Heat (The Energy) the simplistic musical ebbs that propel No Good and Poison into the standouts they are within Jilted. It was bloody rare in ’94 for a ‘techno-rave’ album showing such consideration to tracklisting.

Then there’s the Narcotic Suite at the end, a thematic run of the ups and downs of drug indulgences. If, following the rest of Jilted Generation, there were still doubts that ol’ Liam was just a one-trick production pony, this trilogy firmly proved otherwise. The evening starts chill and relaxed with acid jazz vibes of 3 Kilos, then we’re flying high into blissy energy with Skylined. Oh dear, we took too much, feeling that Claustophobic Sting, twisted acid and sketchy paranoia setting in as “my mind is going”. Where the fuck is that sinister laughter coming from! When folks bemoan The Prodigy just aren’t as good as they used to be, the Narcotic Suite is always one such example why, Howlett never recreating something of this nature since.

The same can be said for Jilted Generation as a whole, the album a clear bridge from where The Prodigy started to the next stage of their act. It could have resulted in a messy, hodge-podge LP of uncertain genre tests. Instead, it’s some of the best work of their career.

Various - Motion 2: A Six Degrees Dance Collection

Six Degrees Records: 2002

This alphabetical stipulation is a burden sometimes. Its fine when I enter a CD series that has some prestige behind it - Global Underground, Fabric, Fahrenheit Project (!) - but what of the obscure ones? I can't imagine folks were waiting with bated breath as I went through four volumes of Elemental Chill last year, and Lord knows I was running on fumes by the end of but two mega-volumes of Goa Trance: Psychedelic Flashbacks. Now we have Motion where despite containing another round of classy tracks, is likely destined to languish in the back corners of this blog once disappearing from front page rotation.

Trouble is there's so little to talk about these CDs beyond the nuts and bolts review fodder. I'm not versed enough in Six Degrees that I can provide a grand perspective on Motion 2's standing with the rest of the label, much less proper world beat at large (dear Lord, those New Sounds Of Brazil CDs look scary). And while I hope whatever readership I gain is open-minded enough about this music to not dismiss it out of hand, I suspect this is entirely too niche for all but the truly musically adventurous out there. Perhaps Six Degrees realized this, hence one of their ongoing slogans being “Everything Is Closer Than You Think”, hoping an occasional curious listenership found unsuspecting kinship with arts and culture seemingly so wildly distant.

That said, Six Degrees Records probably overshot their estimation of how many folks out there were gonna' dig their stylee. Motion only lasted two volumes, the remix culture none too interested in dance floor weapons from a deep world beat label. Heck, I only picked this one up out of a sense of completion when I saw it sitting in a used shop. Oh, alright, I also wanted a proper copy of that Jack Dangers Mix of Banco de Gaia’s How Much Reality Can You Take?. Don’t look at me like that, this remix is some skilled big beat action!

The rest of Motion 2 features more mint examples of house and breaks, though isn’t as dynamic as the first one. Good example is another remix of Bob Holroyd’s Drumming Up A Storm, this time handled by Bob himself. His go treads blissy nu-jazz vibes, which is fine for this sort of thing, but compared to the exhilarating tribal workout of Romanthony’s remix, it’s just not as fun. Of familiar names recognizable by even the most layman of clubbers, Chicago house don Ron Trent indulges himself in some Latin shuffle in Batidos’ Tengo Sed, and Josh Wink does the minimal techno thing on Tweaker’s Linoleum (the good kind!).

There’s more, but I sadly suspect my words would fall on dead eyes. Names like Faze Action, Q-Burns Abstract Message, and 95 North do command respect within their respective scenes, but something tells me their fans aren’t about to scope out a Six Degrees Records compilation with names like Euphoria, Hawke, and Monica Ramos on it.

Various - Mortal Kombat: Annihilation

TVT Records: 1997

The movie Mortal Kombat: Annihilation represented everything that sucked about being a teenager in the '90s: utter ruination of a popular franchise, clueless pandering with pointless character cameos, over-reliance of shit CGI, crap plotting, no campy charm, and generally just poo. It showcased how little corporate executives thought of the demographic, figuring we'd eat up any ol' slop. Okay, they were right on most occasions, but after the surprise quality of the first Mortal Kombat movie, we expected better. Man, fuck this movie.

Speaking of failures, let's talk about the soundtrack. Something feels totally off about Annihilation compared to the first, as though TVT Records were unwillingly sucked into the 'electronica' hype machine and forced to accommodate the rising bankable genre going forward. For a label known primarily for industrial rock, shoving in a pile of one-off breaks acts must have been frustrating for them. Or maybe not, and they truly were gung-ho about this turn.

Thing about the first soundtrack is it didn’t even come off like a soundtrack; rather, a mixtape from TVT staff, giving equal share and exposure to thrashy techno, industrial, and metal (plus a few original pieces from George S. Clinton). Annihilation, in contrast, is almost all ‘electronica’ of some form. KMFDM at least get a return spot, and I’m sure plenty were properly introduced to Rammstein by way of their classic Engel (for those who weren’t, Du Hast was just around the corner!). Elsewhere, industrial gets a spit more of attention with one-off act Urban Voodoo, and that’s it for the genre. Metal? Hah, don’t make me laugh. Megadeth’s Almost Honest is turned into a Spawn clone via Danny Saber, and that’s it – unless you count the thrashy guitars in Scooter’s Fire as metal, since that’s about as close as anything else gets to the genre on here. Yeah, I don’t think so.

It’s essentially generic ‘action-movie’ big beat making up the remaining two-thirds of Annihilation, surprisingly none produced by Junkie XL. Remember how Mortal Kombat had distinctive songs that perfectly fit with the scenes and characters? Forget that nonsense in Annihilation. Perfect example is the use of FSOL’s We Have Explosive, horribly shoe-horned in a lame fight between Lui Kang and Baraka, for barely thirty seconds! But hey, they got the rights to use it, so better shove it in somewhere. Think about it: Annihilation made the f’n FSOL sound pointless and inconsequential. Man, fuck this movie.

Just as a collection of tunes, then, does this CD hold up? Without the movie association or comparison with the first CD, only barely, and thanks largely in part to the inclusion of some choice material from those already mentioned (plus Psykosonik, Juno Reactor, Cirrus, and Lunatic Calm). Keep in mind though, the music’s so late ‘90s sounding, you can practically see the wire-fu action sequences as they play out. The good tunes can be found elsewhere, and the lesser cuts are forgotten by the end of a play-through. Annihilation’s pathetic legacy, as it were.

Various - Mixed Goods IV

(~): 2002

TRACK LIST:
1. BPT - Moody (Pete Heller's 'Stylus' Vocal Mix)
2. Quirk - Soft Focus (Hyperion Mix)
3. Quirk - Yebo
4. Funk D'Void - Diabla
5. Chris Carter - Plex
6. Andy C & Shimon - Body Rock (Live)
7. Matrix & Fierce - Tearaway
8. Psychick Warriors Ov Gaia - Dust
9. Soul Grabber - Release
10. Plank 15 - Strings Of Life (Pete Heller's Strings Of Dub)
11. Kosheen vs. DJ Tiësto - Hidden Flight (Windsidor Bootleg Mix)

The title Mixed Goods truly is awful grammatically, though intentionally so. Something of an inside joke among my old 'Rupert Raver' crew, we (mostly two or three chaps not me) had a tendency to invent slang almost on a daily basis. It definitely started well before I joined up with them (I was a drifter before finding musically like-minded peers), and Lord help me, did I ever endlessly crack up to some of the nonsense that'd come from their mouths. Their slang war grew incredibly competitive, always attempting to outwit the last clever comeback, and ofttimes rendering simple discussion an impenetrable haze of jargon. As I still had close ties to that crew while I was making these CDs, some of the lingo remained a part of mine own, “goods” such an example. Yeah, it's not terribly difficult deciphering that one, but then I figured only they would ever see these anyway.

Okay, I’m honestly just burning word count here because Mixed Goods IV is quite a mess. By the time I got to making it, I was down to leftovers for MP3 choices, most of the best stuff already burned to personal compilation series (this one, Klassic Kickbacks, Breakz & Bass, Chilled Kutz ...ooh, mint material there!) or feature discs, typically of a specific genre or artist. I likely could have waited for more Muzik Magazine recommendations, but I needed hard-drive space for more music (my old-old computer only had 2.6 GB!). So onto Mixed Goods IV these oddities went.

There’s a fair bit of prog on here, though seeing Pete Heller’s name shouldn’t surprise of that. Perhaps more surprising is psy-trance act Quirk also getting in on that prog action; guess it was a bid to stay relevant, and ultimately failed since the duo folded shortly after these were released. A few excess cuts from my Breakz & Bass series also show up, though only Matrix & Fierce’s Tearaway is any good (and kinda’ stuck in post-Bad Company dark-neuro-step-funk-whatever sound). Chris Carter’s Plex is a weird nu-school breaks thing, and everyone knows Body Rock; all I could find was a crummy internet rip to sate my curiosity over the ‘clownstep classic’.

I guess the rest of these tracks were gathered to sate curiosity too; obviously so the Kosheen/Tiësto mashup, but also Funk D’Void’s nasty techno beast Diabla. Bet that track would scare the piss out of today’s festival circuit. Also, I really ought to hunt down proper copies of Pychick Warriors Ov Gaia’s music, shouldn’t I?

Leftfield - Leftism

Columbia: 1995

These ‘definitive electronica albums’ often weigh me down. Not for a lack of things to say, oh no – if anything, there’s too much to say, though undoubtedly covered far more extensively than I’d ever manage within self-imposed word count. Trouble arises when you know the narrative, understand the impact, and appreciate the execution, yet can’t always muster the spark that wins you over as it has so many others. I like Leftfield. I like Leftism. I like progressive house – whatever it was supposed to be even back in the day – and have nary an ill thought when it comes to this album. It’s also one of my least played LPs of those seminal mid-‘90s “supposed to have” electronic music releases. In fact, it took me years to finally get around to grabbing a copy, more as a sense of completist obligation rather than any urge to hear Open Up or even Inspection (Check One) again.

Part of the problem is Leftism’s very nature, an attempt at bringing their trend-setting sound into the mainstream consciousness. Not an entirely daft idea, and when Columbia signed Leftfield, I’m sure they figured they’d have similar success as Virgin did with all those other ‘rave’ groups (The Future Sound Of London, The Chemical Brothers, The Massive Attack, etc.). And they were right, Leftism getting sales, plaudits, and all that good stuff. Unlike those acts, however, something feels lost in Leftfield’s transition from underground taste-makers to crossover stars.

Perfect example is the new version of their first hit Song Of Life. The original was a prog-house staple, establishing all the chugging rhythms, clever samples, and dream-like qualities that defined the early scene. On Leftism, however, it opts for the chill road instead, nearly half the track devoted to a revamping of the Song Of Life b-side, Fanfare Of Life. Great sounding cut, of course, but clearly aimed at the home-listening demographic, as is much the album.

Right, Leftfield couldn’t simply release their old club hits in ’95 as they first appeared earlier that decade – the musical innovation arms race was blindingly fast at that time, and grooving, dubby house tunes were already coming off dated. To keep pace, Barnes and Daley dipped their hands in other genres. Techno crops up in Black Flute, Space Shanty, and Afro-Left (though again, the album version pales compared to the pounding Afro Ride cut on the single), breaks get their nod in Storm 3000, trip-hop finds its way care of Original, and chill-out has its moments with Melt and 21st Century Poem; all of which mixed through Leftfield’s trademark bottem-heavy, dubby soundscapes.

Does this sound like too much market-driven genre hopping? Congratulations then, you’ve discovered Leftism’s primary problem. Whether the duo believed they could pull off an ‘all-encompassing’ dance album, or it was mandated by overhead to cover every potential market, I haven’t a clue, but the result is a good sounding LP lacking, erm, progressive electronic music adventurism. We can’t scare away those potential Oasis fans, after all.

Various - Klassic Kickbacks 2

(~): 2002

Electronic music is replete with classics, but for the longest time difficult to procure. Some of the best tunes were only available on long out-of-print vinyls, and while there might be occasional compilations gathering up a pile of greats, most of those could only be had on ridiculously expensive import CDs (woe be the Western Canadian). Other times, ace tunes came cobbled with crappy albums, eventually new homes in used shops during financially lean times and fried in microwaves during drunkenly drunk times. Ultimately, the whole point in my starting a mix CD series called Klassic Kickbacks was to gather or re-gather old tunes I figured would never find their way into my music collection otherwise. Of course, re-issues, online streaming services, and not-shit retrospective compilations makes such gathering a moot point now, but it’s fun listening to them in this order again.

I made four volumes of Klassic Kickbacks, but have since lost two (burned CDs don't last as long as official ones? Who knew.). I can't even remember what was on them, maybe some old Orb and KLF. For Klassic Kickbacks 2, however, I wanted to go all the way back, opening things up with Kraftwerk (Radioactivity and The Robots), and book-ending it with Trans Europe Express. Thing I remember most about getting those off of AudioGalaxy is the chap I downloaded from bumped me to the front of his queue because I had “great taste in music”. Oh yeah, and I follow those pioneering Germans with Boney M's Nightflight To Venus. Hey, it's technically keeping a ‘70s German theme, which is also why I threw in U96’s Das Boot, creating a proper link to more current sounding electronic music. Things go wonky on here after that.

I’d grabbed a bunch of Aphex Twin, but never could figure out where to put what. Schottkey 7th Path though, I knew I needed that on a CD pronto (Selected Ambient Works 85-92 was stupid expensive back in the day), as that was... ah, I’ll get into it later. For now, it made its way onto Klassic Kickbacks 2, and, in a move that baffles me to this day, is followed upon by East 17’s House Of Love. Lord Discogs has it down as progressive house, but damn, it sounds like a boy pop group trying to do rave music. Hell, East 17 looks like that. Maybe 2002 Sykonee had a good chuckle over that contrast, but 2013 Sykonee ain’t laughing.

The rest of this CD has well-known ‘electronica’ tunes rounding things out (Adamski’s Killer, The Chemical Brothers’ Morning Lemon, Keoki’s Catepiller, and Wink), plus Deep Forest’s Coral Lounge because I didn’t bother keeping the Strange Days soundtrack when I was pawning discs for ramen noodles to get by (I told you there were financial lean times in my past). Except for that bizarre middle, Klassic Kickbacks 2 was one of the better mix CDs I made. Shame getting so many of these on re-issues has rendered it utterly redundant now.

Jean-Michel Jarre - Jarremix (Original TC Review)

Disques Dreyfus: 1995

(2013 Update:
A little mis-information in this review, as Jarre really wasn't trying to get chummy with club culture himself. I'm pretty sure his record label was trying to do so though, hence the licensing of Chronologie out for so many remixes. Oh, any apparently the Laurent Garnier Laboratoire Mix of Oxygene was removed from later editions of Jarremix due to some kind of beef between him and Jarre. Damn, maybe that N.W.A. comparison was apt after all!

Bit of a fun-fact here: way back before I ever started writing for TranceCritic, I'd toyed with the idea of online reviews for a while already, even drumming up about a half-dozen drafts. Most of those ended up recycled into the earliest I did for the website, but I also did one for Jarremix. Never saw a point in submitting a review for this, as I figured interest in a Jean-Michel Jarre remix album wasn't terribly high. Of course, when it cropped up for a Random Review, I had no choice, but by that time, my writing'd vastly improved, and the early draft was scrapped.)

IN BRIEF: A pioneer tries to fit in.

In the year 1993, electronic music was riding high on a wave of unprecedented critical, commercial, and creative growth [2013 Edit: you hadn’t seen anything yet, 2008 Sykonee]. Dozens of fresh faces were shaping the way mainstream audiences regarded synths and sequencers (for good and ill), spurring on a cultural revolution that was quite youth orientated. As a result, many original electronic producers from the 70s were promptly being left to the dust of history. Aside from token nods or blatant sampling, names like Vangelis and Tangerine Dream were becoming irrelevant as the ‘90s took shape.

Amongst those originators being left behind was Jean-Michel Jarre, who’s seminal Oxygene and follow-up Equinoxe made him a house-hold name in the ‘70s, helping to legitimizing electronic music as something more engaging than quirky egg-headed experimentations. However, although he maintained a career throughout the ‘80s, the Frenchman was coming across as hopelessly dated in the ‘90s. He was probably looking at the house and techno producers that had usurped him as a household name, and said to himself, “Man, I started this electronic shit, and this the muther-fuckin’ thanks I get?” - except in French, and with less N.W.A. ‘tude.

Anyhow, in 1993 Jarre got it inside his head to prove he could match these ‘kids’ doing electronic dance music, as he’d already proved himself adept at the synth-poppy stuff. Thus he released the album Chronologie, which included some of his most club-friendly songs ever. Seemingly in an effort to promote the Frenchman even further into clubland, a series of remixes were also commissioned for the lead singles, Chronologie 4 and Chronologie 6. The list of names that were brought in should be instantly recognizable to anyone familiar with the era: Praga Khan, Sunscreem, Gat Decor, Slam… um, Jamie Petrie (Black Girl Rock micro-fame).

Skip ahead a couple years, and Jarre’s label compiled the best of the remixes and released a full-length CD of them. Strangely, only half of them were gathered for Jarremix (everyone but Petrie made at least two), with none from Praga Khan – thus, two from Sunscreem (the E-Motion Mix and S x S Mix for Chronologie 4), one from Gat Decor (Main Mix on Chronologie 6), one from Slam (Slam Mix 1 for Chronologie 6), and Petrie’s Tribal Trance Mix of Chronologie 4. Hardly enough for a full-length CD, is it.

Whatever was Disques Dreyfus to do then? Why, the same thing every record company does when in need of padding out a compilation: get one of the label’s sound engineers to do the job - in this case, Bruno Mylonas. A few years prior, he’d given a studio spit-shine to Jarre’s ‘best of’ release Images, so he was familiar enough with the songs to do some tinkering with them. Would he also provided credible club-ready remixes for Jarremix though? Not really, but, if nothing else, he did provide some variety to this release.

While listening through the CD, you can definitely tell which remixes have direct ties to club land and which ones seem like an approximation of what club land is about, as the out-of-house producers tend to strip the originals down and craft something fresh in the process. For instance, the not-so-subtly titled E-Motion Mix is a blissy trance affair that is pure mid-‘90s from Sunscreem, then opt for a funkier spin with the S x S Mix, making use of a deep acid bassline; each only take snippets of Chronologie 4 in doing so. Likewise, Petrie grabs a couple sounds that were only briefly heard in the original and loops them over a dark tribal beat, which would have made for a killer of a cut had he actually gone somewhere with it – instead, it makes for a nifty little transitional track. Meanwhile, Gat Decor follows suite with Sunscreem with a trance re-rub of his own. Slam, on the other hand, offer one of the more unique attempts at Chronologie 6, with interesting beats, subtle pad washes, burbling acid attacks, and other assorted mid-‘90s techno trappings; again, not much is retained from the original.

Mylonas, on the other hand, retains quite a bit of Jarre’s work for his remixes. The melodies are mostly unchanged, many arrangements don’t stray far from the originals… really, if you’re familiar with songs like Calypso and Magnetic Fields 2, you aren’t going to be hearing anything terribly different here aside from beefier beats. And even when Mylonas does remix songs with the dancefloor in mind, it comes across uncertain. Equinoxe 4 dabbles in funky breaks, but compared to what The Chemical Brothers were doing at the time, Mylonas’ offering is quite weak. Mind, the melodies are still catchy enough, but that’s based solely on Jarre’s work, which Mylonas doesn’t change.

The only Mylonas remix that seems able to match clubbing-wits with the other remixers is the one he did for Revolution, Revolutions. The original was already quite an energetic track to begin with, but here it’s given the prog-house treatment: chugging bottom-heavy rhythms, funky acid tweaks, ethnically-inclined breakdown, and a plethora of extras giving the remix plenty of vitality. If any of Mylonas’ remixes were to get used in a clubbing environment, this would be the one.

I don’t think any of these remixes did make much of an impact when they were released though – beyond the S x S Mix of Chronologie 4, I’ve seldom seen them playlisted. I suppose the notion of a Jarre club track was just as odd back in the ‘90s as it is today; club culture remains incredibly resistant in accepting the Frenchman into their ranks, as the recent abysmal reaction to Jarre’s ‘electro house’ attempt in Téo & Téa proved (and Benassi’s remix fell on equally deaf ears).

That said, Jarremix is still a fine enough full-length to throw on. Despite whatever preconceived cynicism you may have regarding a project like this, the fact remains the music here is perfectly enjoyable (well, aside from the Ambiant [sic] Mix of Equinoxe 4, which is a bit dull), either as club-rubs of the Chronologie singles, or as variations on other memorable Jarre tunes. Purists may balk, club culture may scoff, but as far as remix projects are concerned, Jarremix remains a respectable addition. (By the way, whatever happened to the Laurent Garnier remix of Oxygene 1?)

Banco de Gaia - I Love Baby Cheesy

Six Degrees Records: 1999

Windows Media Player has some odd organization. Ignoring articles in titles, that makes sense to me – who wants long strings of ‘the’s, ‘a’s, and ‘an’s? Yet here we are in the ‘I’s, and it regards the pronoun ‘I’ as its own entity, lining up all my albums starting with “I…”. On the other hand, it treats the word ‘is’ as lesser than ‘I’, as demonstrated when Khooman’s album Is A Flexible Liquid cropped up in the ‘F’s. All of this, of course, has nothing to do with the music on Banco de Gaia’s I Love Baby Cheesy. If you’ve actually been wondering how this alphabetical thing works though, here’s your answer, since there’s not much to discuss regarding this single, and I have to eat up self-imposed word count somehow.

Truth is, aside from one or two cases, Toby Marks' project doesn't translate well to the singles format. His albums generally are enjoyed as a whole, and the odd tune that does get plucked out for EP use often comes off weaker without the surrounding tracks as context. Still, DJs gotta DJ, and they'd much rather have a shorter piece of wax or disc without all the fuss of partial blends and multi-tracks.

I Love Baby Cheesy was the lead single off Magical Sounds Of Banco de Gaia (and the lead track, incidentally), marking a return to big, exuberant fun-time music from Marks after the relatively somber Big Men Cry. As a jump off point for that album, it's fantastic, the combination of funky rhythms, catchy nonsensical vocal samples, hooky synths, and dashes of world beat grabbing you by the lapels for a flailing good time on the dance floor or open field. It's about as light-hearted as you'll ever find Banco de Gaia (and if you don't believe me, gander at those goofs in the video). Shame the stupid Radio Edit on this single ruins all of that, but his Skippy Mix makes up for it (aside from a few cosmetic changes, it's the same as the album version).

Two remixers join in on the cheddar love, the first care of Dub Pistols, a group who broke out during the big beat era and are still kicking it today. Best way to describe their take on this tune is… ‘hard-step’ breaks? Whatever, it’s typical late-‘90s fodder, and mostly forgettable.

The second comes care of a chap going by Wayward Soul, offering two rubs here. Lord Discogs says this is actually Anthony Thorpe. *blink* Wait, original acid house Thorpe, he of Addis Posse, Moody Boys, and such? You sure of that, oh Lord? Huh, if so, that’s quite a coup on Marks’ part to snag him. His remixes are pretty cool too, the first (Electric Cheddar Remix) a dubby, tribal breaks thing, and the second (The Afro-European Remix) going deeper into the dub and tribal haze. Yeah, I can vibe to these. They’re definitely unique offerings within the Banco discography, even for those who are not completists. (*tugs at collar*)

Various - Human Traffic

FFRR: 1999

Movies properly capturing club culture are rare and often crap, but Human Traffic’s one of the few that got it close. Sure, it's a comedy, exaggerating all the highs and lows associated with “clubs, drugs, pubs, and parties”, and it only highlights one aspect of a global phenomenon – specifically the UK in the late '90s. Still, I can't think of another country that had as much sway within dance music as the Brits did at the turn of the century, what with so many self-important DJs, clubbing brands, and magazines exporting their narrative across the world. Even in the hinterlands of Canada, we were lapping it up. Groove may have been more realistic in the parties we actually went to, but we yearned to be a part of the Human Traffic ones.

Funnily enough, us far-flung Northwest Coasters almost never learned of the movie's existence. Quite by chance, I’d stumbled upon the soundtrack in a local shop, a double-disc of music featuring names and tunes I was familiar with. Upon realizing there was a whole picture associated with it, I special ordered the DVD to sate my curiosity over what sort of movie could have such mint music. It fast turned into a hit within my party crew, getting umpteen repeated plays almost every weekend as we showed it off to any and all (almost always while stoned). For most of 2001 (yes, we were really that late to the Human Traffic revelry), we would not stop quoting the damn thing, and I somehow suspect similar occurrences went down in other areas to the world who dug the flick.

But enough about the movie, how's the soundtrack? Pretty darn good, I'd say, though like its cinema counterpart, very much a product of its time. Almost all the big producers and genres of the late '90s are accounted for, plus nods to classic tracks of clubbing yore are included too. Interspersed throughout the discs are clips of dialogue from the movie itself (like I said, damn quotable!), often leading into music associated with those scenes (Orbital's Belfast after the Comedown Sermon, for instance; or William Orbit's Ogive after What Was I Talking About?).

The two-discs also separate the music between a DJ mix (handled by Pete Tong) for CD2 and a 'miscellaneous' CD1. For my money, the mix disc is most fun, running from garagey house through trance and finishing hard with techno – a proper clubbing disc. The first one features mostly broken beat music (trip hop, gangsta rap, downtempo, breaks, etc.) with a few ambient pieces added; in other words, where all the music that couldn't fit on the DJ mix ended up.

Whether fresh-faced ravers will find much of interest in Human Traffic, I'm not sure, as there's almost an entire generational gap from when this came out. On the other hand, there's yet to be another movie celebrating dance music hedonism as entertainingly as this one did, retaining a timeless quality to it. Nice one, bruv.