Speedy J - Public Energy No. 1

Plus 8 Records: 1997/2021

It's weird to think of a Speedy J album as contentious, but as I scoured about for impressions of Mr. Paap's third album, that does seem to be the case. I get it though, I really do. G Spot was an almost impossible record to meet follow-up expectations with, at least without rehashing a bunch of the same ideas again. Jochem though, he don't play like that, always in a state of change and exploration (until he settled upon 4am bangin' techno as his bread 'n' butter). Still, while Public Energy No. 1 is far from as wild a departure from Speedy J of old as it could have been (just check out the singles prior to its release for an idea), it's certainly more abrasive than much of his previous catalogue.

You know you're in for something harder and challenging when opener-proper Patterns emerges. Things seem on a nicely tranquil, melodic tip for the lead in, then over-driven, distorted broken beats get bit crunched and digitally spewed back out into your face. Oh, we're doing that IDM thing, like Aphex Twin and μ-Ziq, are we? Well, sure. I mean, Mike Paradinas did offer a remix on Ni Go Snix, so it's only natural that some of those influences would start emerging into Jochem's sound. Still, unlike the remix of Patterns' single, there's more of a melodic through-line in the album version, keeping things at least a little accessible for those looking for more Fills.

There's a definite push-pull going on with Public Energy No. 1, Jochem clearly anxious to get more experimental in his techno outings, but still feeling it necessary to give his fans what they're familiar with. In-Formation carries on with the crunchier beatcraft, all the while maintaining an eerie atmosphere with airy pads. Pure Energy is basically Speedy J going big-beat. Drainpipe is basically Speedy J going trip-hop. Haywire hints at more digital abrasion, but still finds the time to work in some quite pleasant pad work, while Hayfever carries on the beats while saying nuts to anything melodic. And just to show these new-form sonic adventures aren't everything Jochem's been influenced by, Melanor's's sinewy ambience, Tesla's dusty ambience and Canola's abstract ambience reaches well into '70s synth weirdness.

And that's pretty much the album fully detailed, over and done in little over a paragraph. For sure the music's fine, but it doesn't have the same talking points as other Speedy J records do. Maybe some discourse about how Jochem continued evolving and all, but when stacked against his larger body of work, Public Energy No. 1 is very much a stepping-stone LP. The sublime melodic moments of records past, or the take-no-prisoners techno workouts of records future, simply aren't present here. I feel like this was a necessary album for him to get out of his system, to show he could continue down roads less ventured. Whenever I reach for a Speedy J album to play, however, this one doesn't sit high on the pile.

Wednesday Campanella - Superman

Warner Music Japan: 2017

The cover art to 水曜日のカンパネラ's Superman doesn't seem like much at a glance. If anything, it reminds me of Garth Brooks' weirdo-concept Chris Gaines album, and given this group's predilection towards famous people references, I can't help but suspect that's deliberate. The image, however, is but one piece of a larger canvas ...or rather, the top corner of a huge, 3x4 panel poster, revealing lead singer KOM_I (I think?) suckling a foot's large toe. Oh, and when I say huge, I mean it, one panel looking like it could hold a 7” record rather than a CD. Also, Superman didn't even come in a regular jewel case, but rather as a fold-out with a little rubber nub in one panel to hold the CD, and a cardboard insert so it doesn't flop about. This is one of the few times I've actually kept the wrap cover, just so it doesn't get damaged. And boy howdy, could I ever go on about the backside of this poster, if I had any hope of reading geometric shapes and swirling pools of kanji.

After their kinda-sorta debut mini-album Rashōmon, Suiyoubi no Campanella found themselves a fair bit of fame in their motherland, and a growing following the world abroad, such that one of the Big Important Labels came a'knockin' to hear what the fuss was about (and whether they may capitalize on it). Definitely a surprise it was Warner Music that took them in – was Sony not available?

Anyhow, bigger, slicker label backing means Wednesday Campanella's proper sophomore LP is... well, not exactly bigger, but definitely slicker. Their previous album Zipangu stood out for its free-wheeling genre fusions, and while Superman indulges itself in similar fashion, it's got a cleaner, poppier sheen to it too, smoothing out many rougher edges, as though fully expecting to capitalize on an audience in Western lands. It didn't surprise me the slightest when a co-worker heard some playing and remarked it sounded like Kygo.

And the peppy, anthem house that's marked much of their work returns in tracks like アラジン, 一休さん, and オードリー. Elsewhere, the house beats go more chill, as in チンギス・ハン and アマノウズメ. They're fine, with Kenmochi's production maintaining a solid groove while throwing in tons of little sonic fills without being obnoxious about it. I'm still more interested in the tunes that break the beats up some, even getting tribal at times as in チャップリン and カメハメハ大王. Reminds me I'm listening to something authentically foreign, rather than something trying to sound local. Not that KOM_I's playful raps and Far East harmonies don't constantly remind me either, still resolutely Japanese even with a few English words thrown in. Despite having some translations, I still don't have much idea of what she's singing about, but that doesn't really matter, the band freely admitting their lyrics are less about their content than what just sounds good for the tune. Hey, works for jazz, man.

Various - DJ-Kicks: Brandt Brauer Frick

Studio !K7: 2014

Though DJ-Kicks has spotlighted DJs and producers somewhat off the beaten path, it's seldom that I draw a total blank on who's commanding the consoles. Even if they aren't immediately familiar, a quick Discogian search will reveal some information that sparks the memory synapses (oh yeah, Andrea Parker was on Mo Wax!). Such is not the case with this trio of dapper, fuzzy-faced German gents, Brandt Brauer Frick. I'm getting nothing on these guys, no appearances on familiar compilations, no namedrops from similar sounding artists, not even a whiff of recognition from locals who are all up in that European tech-haus scene. As far as my far-flung Canadian perspective goes, these guys are completely home-grown and insulated within Studio !K7's Berlin base, seldom exported beyond the eastern shores of the Atlantic. Or I could just be way out of the loop on this one. I mean, the trio have released three albums in the past half-decade, a tidy sum for any artist, and surely having generated some success as a result. Then again, considering this CD’s but a year old and already in among the discount options, just how popular can they be?

Whatever the case, I suspected I was in for something wildly eclectic upon checking out the track list (no blind leaps on this one, yo’). Twenty-eight tracks, a few familiar faces like Theo Parrish, Galaxy 2 Galaxy, Fantastic Man, and Machinedrum, plus a whole pile of new names to boot. Wee, just like the DJs themselves! As this is a three-piece group, I suspected Daniel, Jan, and Paul would go the tag-team route, showing off their various tastes of tech-haus, funky jazz, and other assorted trendy genre gobbledegook blends you’d hear out at Watergate. Hm, not so eclectic as I was led to believe, and sadly not for the better.

Despite having sections of sorts, Brandt Brauer Frick’s contribution to DJ-Kicks comes off disjointed and all over the place, and not in any esoteric mixtape sense either. The early portions go for their jazzy sound, but tracks come and go so quickly, with such jarring transitions of tempo and tone, little ever sinks in or flows. If you want to show off these cool, obscure tunes, let them breathe, got’dang it. This isn’t even a case of ancient vinyl being difficult to mix with current cuts, as nearly every track on here is from within the last few years.

Things don’t improve much once in the clubbier portion of this mix, where even a steady rhythm is denied by jumps and detours into broken beat jazz-house, quirky acid electro, and k-holed techno. There are a few clever blends and contrasts, but it doesn’t do the mix favours when the fading croon of Dean Blunt’s Galice at the end is the most memorable moments of the whole CD, only because everything prior has retreated to the cobwebbed back-corners of my cranium. Probably a better option with the vinyl sampler pack, this edition of DJ-Kicks is.

Various - Shadow: Hard Sessions

Shadow Records: 2001

When Shadow Records started their big push out of underground obscurity, they knew more markets than their traditional blazed-out audience needed attention. Fine and all continuing the promotion of trip-hop, illbient (aka: trippier hop), and abstract jazz funk, but geez, look at all the bank house, trance, and techno was making too. It wouldn't hurt to dabble a little in those scenes, would it? No, not at all. Just set up a couple new compilation series as an introduction, offer them up at a reduced rate to entice the curious, and scour the lands of America for talent interested in a record deal. Search high and low for them too, oh Shadow lords, even the backwaters of northwestern British Columbia (yes, this did happen!).

Hard Sessions was set up as the label's showcase of the more aggressive acts within Shadowland’s sphere of interest. While mostly overlooked d'n'b (though ASC makes an early career appearance in Hard Sessions 2!), in a move that surprised many, this first volume features techno from Dietrich Schoenemann, a veteran of the ambient and experimental circuit. He'd released material on Shadow's ambient parent label Instinct, so it's not like ol' Diets was a complete unknown, but what's he doing here on Hard Sessions? For that matter, what's he doing offering up head-down pulsing techno workouts with his two tracks here, Dark Sight and Autumn Ground? The former thumps with all the minimalist fury of a Jeff Mills cut, and the latter goes for the dark, tribal jugular of a 4am bender in a dank warehouse. It’s not the hard, bangin’ shit, but it’s solid stuff, and totally at odds with everything else on Hard Sessions. Hey, I appreciate Shadow’s attempt at subjecting die-hard junglists to something outside their comfort zone, but maybe an entirely different compilation dedicated to techno would have been a better option.

Including the two Dietrich cuts, ten tracks make up this compilation, two per artist. The artists range from the highly prolific to the hopelessly obscure. For instance, Hard Sessions opens with smooth flowing tech-step ofSo Dark Now from Magnetic, or David Harrow to Lord Discogs. He had two albums on Shadow Records, plus a few more LPs following that label’s folding. Then there’s the other work David Harrow’s accomplished as High Stepper, Technova, Oicho... holy cow, does this guy have a huge discography! Then there’s Illform (Quentin Allen), who only released but one album of d’n’b with Shadow, though had a little more success with deep house as Karu after. Quite a contrast there, mang’.

Hanna, another prolific producer, provides more d’n’b with a jazzy bent, while weirdo cybernetic, abstract, broken-jungle one-shot group Droid rounds out the rest. No, really, I can’t think of any other way to describe Droid. It’s like Amon Tobin’s more spastic moments fed through a Detroit jazz factory. Worth a listen just to believe. So is Hard Sessions too, if you ever stumble upon it on the cheap. Discover a few great producers in the process!

Nick Höppner - Folk

Ostgut Ton: 2015

Mark Knopfler is a very important person in the world of rock music. Having cemented his legacy with the Dire Straits (Money For Nothing, Sultans Of Swing, many more), he's forged ahead with a solid solo career too. Argh, I'm doing it again! Every time I see Nick Höppner’s name, my brain tricks me into registering it as ‘Mark Knopfler’. There's a few similarities between the two, but not so much I should be suffering from whatever this short-cut cognitive response is called (help me out, psychologists reading this by happenstance!). My only answer to this mystery is that ol' Nick is such a new name in music to my eyes that my brain can't help but think this letter arrangement is associated with one I’ve longer familiarity with. So, Mr. Höppner, if you're reading this, get making more music pronto, and expunge Mr. Knopfler from my grey matter. Or, you know, because you make some darn fine tunes too.

This may be my first exposure to his name, but Höppner’s been active in the Berlin-based DJ for some time now. Along with Lee Jones and Carsten Klemann, he saw some success in the last half of the ‘00s as My My, releasing deep house, tech-house, and minimal deep-tech house, because of course. Jones and Höppner have since settled into solo careers, with ol’ Nick finding a home at Ostgut Ton, mostly falling lock-step with their brand of bunker techno and house. It comes with some surprise then, that his debut album Folk has a remarkable amount of melody in it. Why, some of it could even be-

Okay, probably not, but with plenty of hypnotic groove, gated synths, and flowing pad work, you can’t blame a guy for getting a ‘tee-are’ vibe on this one. There’s been a fair bit of techno getting in touch with its lighter side this decade, undoubtedly thanks to the almighty power of retro when the genre was comfortable with fun future-funk as it was painting dystopias. With cover art as chintzy as Folk’s, you can tell Mr. Höppner didn’t want his first LP an are serious techno outing, though he does allow for some menace in the thumping Grind Show.

Instead, Paws shuffles with a subdued shimmering synth line, Mirror Image has a charming, gaudy lounge vibe, Airway Management cruises high altitudes with broken beats, and Rising Overheads has no shame in reaching for those lasers. Elsewhere Mr. Höppner goes to his breaded butter of tech-house on the deeper side (Relate, No Stealing, Come Closer), though even these often float on blissy, Balearic pads. The only cut on Folk that goes for the tough, warehouse business is Out Of, which adds some welcome spice to an otherwise mellow album.

Even if you’re not in the market for tech-house, I recommend giving Nick Höppner’s first LP a go. There’s much to enjoy within its tidy nine-track runtime, and is a far better electronic album than Mark Knopfler would make.

µ-Ziq - Royal Astronomy

Virgin: 1999

When µ-Ziq signed with Virgin, part of his deal included the creation of Planet Mu as an offshoot. Mr. Paradinas' label has gone on to some critical fame in the years since, but at the time Virgin was struggling in its promotion of IDM, unable to properly capitalize on the buzz Aphex Twin's videos had generated; or so the story goes. Not sure if it was that awful, what with plenty of magazine ad spots for Lunatic Harness and Royal Astronomy. Still, it's understandable that Virgin and Paradinas would decide parting ways was best for both, frenetic braindance chamber music most definitely not the sort of music easily marketed alongside The Chemical Brothers and Fatboy Slim. Thus, in 1998, the µ-Ziq brand found a permanent, exclusive home on Planet Mu, where Paradinas' albums have been released ever since.

Wait a second, Royal Astronomy came out in 1999, after Planet Mu went proper independent, yet was still released by Virgin. And, unlike Lunatic Harness, this album didn't get a Planet Mu edition, instead being published by Virgin sub-label Hut Recordings, who also released albums from acts like Smashing Pumpkins, Placebo, The Verve, and Gomez (wait, who?). What gives the dealy-o?

Since I'm not a journalist and unwilling to do much research beyond cursory digging, here’s some speculation instead: Paradinas had an album commitment to Virgin, releasing a set number of LPs within such-and-such time span. He got out of that contract when he gained the independent rights to Planet Mu, but had to still provide Virgin with at least one more album's worth of material as part of the bargain. Hence, Royal Astronomy, an album with Virgin's marketing clout behind it, and music with almost no interest on Paradinas' part. Am I right? Do I get the no-prize? Just this CD? Awww.

I can't outright call Royal Astronomy bad, as µ-Ziq has enough talent that even slapdash moments have something interesting going on. There's even a kernel of an album concept lurking in here, where Paradinas indulges is classical leaning compositions as though they were intended for Romantic Era performances (Scaling, Gruber’s Mandolin, Scrape) but sometimes given a thumping, funky twist for the modern era (The Hwicci Song, The Fear, Slice, World Of Leather). It'd be a fun exploration if he'd gone the album's length with it, but unfortunately is hardly touched upon after a promising first few tunes.

The rest either goes the acid IDM fun-funk route (Autumn Acid, Carpet Muncher), quirky pleasantness (56, Goodbye, Goodbye), and standard d’n’b rinse-outs (The Motorbike Track, Bust Your Arm). I’m not getting any rhyme or reason why these tracks are on this album or in the order they’re presented in – here’s some music µ-Ziq had lying around, toss it on the CD, and here’s your final Virgin LP. Done and dusted.

Royal Astronomy’s just too erratic a listen to recommend it as a whole. Sometimes that works in IDM’s favour but not on this outing.

Burial - Rival Dealer

Hyperdub: 2013

I mean, if you have as dedicated and willing a listening audience as Burial’s, why not take the noble road with a Message Album? It’s tricky though, getting them across such that they’re understandable, but without coming off cloying and obvious as fuck. Also, when even the greatest songwriters look goofy in benefit concerts, what hope does a persistently reclusive sort like Mr. Bevan have, especially with a bevy of Burial backlashers waiting in the bleachers? And did they ever pounce when Rival Dealer came out, decrying it the point where Burial had finally fallen off (until this latest single Temple Sleeper anyway), straying too far from his future garage roots into sentimental pap in delivering his one very important thought. Others countered it was bold moving on from dubstep’s resolutely isolationist urban vibe in favor of something uplifting and socially embracing. Debates raged over intent of message versus calculated courting of controversy for the purpose of marketing, posts in comment threads reaching word counts longer than what I self-impose upon myself for these reviews. Oh shit, the review! I still have to talk about the music!

Three tracks make up Rival Dealer, though the way Burial changes course so frequently, it feels like twice as many shorter tunes mashed together forming a whole. The titular opener alone runs the gamut of darkcore jungle, ravey bosh, and rain-soaked cinematic ambience, all fed through Burial’s distinct crackly urban-soul production. Less about songcraft than sound collage, there’s much to digest, a sonic assault provoking a response – whee, art! Hiders, the short cut of the three (other two breach the ten minute mark each) goes in a synth-pop route, including swelling strings, uplifting pianos, and a lovely croon; then, over a minute of field recordings static and dark drone. Talk about contrasts.

Final cut Come Down To Us lays the sentiments on thick as syrup, though the broken beats Burial crafts are nice and thick too, so I can’t complain. As for his pull on your emotions, yeah, this is as subtle as a meat hook in your heart, but damn if he doesn’t pull it off. Burial’s ace remains his appeal to your base emotions, particularly tugs at nostalgia (hello eleven millionth Boards Of Canada comparison) - that he wrenches feeling out of issues of depression, isolation and hope doesn’t surprise me, and I’m more stunned he pulls it off without crossing that aforementioned line of corn. I can see how others wouldn’t agree, and deride Burial for even going there, but as far as I’m concerned, this is as tastefully done as one can hope, given the context of the subject matter.

As for that particular topic, I’m hardly the person to start preaching, but for what it’s worth, I believe it’s absolute shit the way LGBTQ folk have been generally treated. They deserve better, and am glad progress is made in their benefit, slow as it may be. As the sample on Rival Dealer consistently assures throughout, “you’re not alone”.

Gilles Peterson - Broken Folk Funk Latin Soul

Muzik Magazine: 2003

The title's a pisstake. It must be. True, the music within this CD does fit the mould of what a 'broken folk funk Latin soul' collection would sound like, but using five descriptors as a genre is plain ol' silly. Not that Gilles Peterson couldn't get away with it though. As the guy who coined the term ‘acid jazz’ when he threw events called Acid Jazz promoting material on his label Acid Jazz, why not go for the ultimate in redundancy, especially as everyone was making up ridiculous genre names for magazine CDs? Muzik had released a 'hooligan house' disc just prior, while rival Mixmag featured 'disco d'nb' with their freebie the same month this came out. Damn it, The UK, stop trying to invent new genre names all the time. It's too confusing for us North American bumpkins.

Wait, is this the first time I’ve talked about Mr. Peterson at this blog? Crap, gotta’ turn this review proper serious now. Not only was he influential in making acid jazz a thing in Britain, but he exposed many a young ‘90s English post-clubber onto various cultured music scenes from the world abroad. Mostly they were jazz fusions from the realms of New York, Latin America, and Afro Nation, but he helped bring some degree of class to the UK’s early garage movement too. No matter how far off the beaten path his records were culled from, ol’ Gilles always kept one foot in London’s urban jungle too.

Still, if you’ve a passion for bringing such music to a willing audience, heading an influential label and DJing out at events is limiting. Nay, to reach the maximum potential earholes, one must go to the airwaves, radio that is. And, at the turn of the millennium, that’s what Mr. Peterson done did, getting him a show called Worldwide on the omnipresent Radio 1 of BBC fame, which he’s maintained to this day. It was about the time this Muzik CD came out that Gilles had firmly cemented itself as a broadcaster on peer with the likes of Tong and Peel, even earning himself an award for Top Radio Show from the magazine that year. Why yes Broken Folk Funk Latin Soul is totally designed to promote that fact, why do you ask?

More compilation than DJ mix, this disc holds a nice assortment of the movers and shakers of the UK’s jazzy urban-soul that consistently bubbled in London’s underground. Mr. Scruff is here! Harmonic 33 is here! The Cinematic Orchestra is here! Roots Manuva is here (because he was everywhere in the early ‘00s)! Talib Kweli’s here! Nirvana’s here! …er, I mean, their song Come as You Are is here, by way of a soul cover care of Dani Siciliano. There’s also conscious rap from Lone Catalysts, jazzdance from Micatone, soul-shuffle jazz from Kuusumun Profeetta, and a cool groove thing by some duo called Underworld. Perhaps you’ve heard of them? You haven’t? Oh, you’re here for that Osunlade joint. Fair play.

Various - Cosmic Funk

Quango Records: 2001

And I’m done the ‘Q’s. Yep, in a music collection that’s inching ever closer to four digits worth of EPs, LPs, and miscellaneous peas, I have but one album that starts with this letter. It honestly blows my mind I’ve more options in the letter ‘X’ – hooray for the X-Mix series, I guess. Even my media player tried bumping the ‘Q’ count up in sending a bunch of Quango Records compilations this way, an error I could have corrected months ago but held off on. I wasn’t in a hurry to tackle these, you see, quite content in listening to Cosmic Funk and Dub Selector for later. After all, I alphabetically backtrack enough as it is, and this way I’ve a semi-reasonable excuse in giving ‘Q’ a little extra attention, even if Cosmic Funk has nary a ‘Q’ in sight beyond the label that released it.

Anyhow, when Quango relaunched in the year 2000, they kicked things off by releasing a series of affordable compilations with simple titles and big fonts. As per the label’s manifesto, these CDs focused on far-flung styles of music, serving as handy introductions to the world of electronic beats abroad. Cosmic Funk was the first, but other selections included Mystic Groove, Afrotech, Lush Life Electronica, and Nordic Exposure (wait a minute…). With a solid mix of well-known acts and obscure outliers, Quango provided the ultimate bluffer’s guide in building a more ‘cultured’ collection of electronic music.

One problem with this particular release though: faulty advertising! Oh, there’s funk to be found in these eight tracks, but none of it is particularly ‘cosmic’. There are Latin vibes, Afro grooves, and a touch of the Balearic in there too, but not once did I find myself transplanted to the cosmic fantastic. No groovin’ to Moon tunes, no sailing along Saturn rings, no gettin’ down to Ganymede geysers, no cruisin’ on interstella’ comets, and no gallivanting the galactic core. Nope, we’re stuck on boring ol’ Earth. Oh well, at least this wasn’t as disappointing as getting that ambient dub compilation titled Ambient Dub that had not a trace of ambient on it (seriously).

What we do get with Cosmic Funk are some seriously funky jams drawing influence from disparate corners of the world. Hell, The Funky Lowlives show no fear in fusing them together, their two offerings of Notabossa and Latezz bringing chunky beats, Latin swing, and jazzy guitar licks to the table. The biggest names on here are Miguel Migs and Jay-J, collaborating as Migs & Jelly for a similar styled track (Enter The Soul) as The Funky Lowlives provided, while East Village Headz round out that side of the spectrum in Rude Vibez. The other half of goes more the Afro-funk route, with names like Neon Phusion, Kaidi Tatham, and New Sectors Movements being repped. Yeah, sorry, I know little about these cats.

Since Quango’s folded, you likely won’t find Cosmic Funk anywhere but as a used option. For a fiver though, ‘tis mighty fine.

Various - Ninja Tune: The Shadow Years

Shadow Records: 2001

In the sub-micro-niche commodity classification known as “Ninja Tune Showcases”, The Way Of The Ninja sits at one end of the spectrum – at the other end sits this. Way early in Shadow Records’ humble beginnings, the label got by in offering State-side distribution for several European records. Most were one-offs, but they did share a two-year partnership with Ninja Tune as a means of disturbing some of Coldcut’s label’s older material. Wow, Ninja working with Shadow, who’d see that coming?

Of course, Ninja Tune’s clout eventually grew big enough they handled their own American affairs, but Shadow still had rights to those older tracks as they saw fit to use them. With Shadow’s own clout never higher at the turn of the century, they also released a few Ninja back-catalog CDs as a means of earning a quick buck from an unsuspecting public. Okay, that’s a ridiculously cynical take on this compilation – I’m sure Shadow had all the best of intentions when putting this double-CD together. As a showcase of Ninja Tune’s repertoire, however, The Shadow Years is incredibly slight.

Yes, a 2-CD, eighteen track collection of Ninja Tune music come off underwhelming. Part of the problem is the small number of artists Shadow had to work with. For sure, most of the main players of Ninja Tune’s early years are accounted for: Coldcut, The Herbaliser, DJ Vadim, DJ Food, 9 Lazy 9, London Funk Allstars, Hedfunk, Funki Porcini, and Up, Bustle & Out are all repped. And of those nine artists, we get one song each on both CDs. Unfortunately, it’s not all their best material. I mean, of the Coldcut tunes Shadow could have selected, Eine Kleine Hed Musick and Atmoic Moog 2000 are the ones you go with? Not that I should have expected Autumn Leaves or Timber, but surely something a little less MOR from More and Black could have been included (for the record, I adore Eine Kleine Hed Musick, but for mostly personal reasons).

Truthfully, the selection of tunes here aren’t bad at all, all the downtempo genres Ninja Tune made their mark in given their moments. There’s trip-hop vibes from DJ Vadim and The Herbaliser, abstract broken-beats from Funki Porcini, funky ‘70s licks from DJ Food (I always picture Ninja Walk as the opening credits to a blaxploitation flick), and acid jazz grooves from 9 Lazy 9, London Funk Allstars and Up, Bustle & Out. In a way, The Shadow Years’ relative lack of material just goes to show how much Ninja Tune spoils us for music, names like Amon Tobin and Drome missing from this collection, to say nothing of extensive discographies of those who do show up here.

If you’re utterly raw to Ninja Tune and won’t spring for one of their boxsets, The Shadow Years is an adequate starter’s sampler. While it barely scratches the surface of even Shadow’s association with Ninja Tune, it does provide a quick glimpse into some of the label’s more seminal years.

Various - Deepwater Black: Inclonation Vol. One (Original TC Review)

Koch Records: 1997

(2012 Update:
This one again? I swear I've given this compilation more attention than anyone else. Or maybe it just feels that way since I've gotten a lot of mileage out of these tunes for one reason or another. Still a recommended CD if you find it super-cheap. And hoo boy, I really did get my geek on with this review, didn't I? No shame.)


IN BRIEF: Obscure tie-in compilation for obscure sci-fi TV show.

Far be it for us to occasionally review unknown EDM releases, but now we’re also covering unknown TV shows too? Hardly, but these Random Reviews do have a tendency to drag along quirky fun-facts from other fields. Here’s what we have in this case.

Deepwater Black - or Mission Genesis in parts American - was a short-lived Canadian-filmed TV series based on a trilogy of books written by New Zealander Ken Catran that aired in the latter half of ‘97. It holds the somewhat dubious distinction of being the first original series produced by the Sci-Fi Channel - ‘dubious’, because Sci-Fi Channel has an unfortunately long history of under-produced, somewhat cheesy original shows. On the other hand, this was at a time when television sci-fi was quite popular, so there probably wasn’t much harm in at least trying it. Just keep the cast small and unknown, the CGI special-effects video-game level (hey, it worked for Babylon 5’s first season, and that show went on to be critically hailed as one of the best sci-fi shows for most of the 90s), and your stories somewhat compelling for sci-fi, and you really couldn’t go wrong.

For what it’s worth, the show did have a strong premise: a sextet of young adults emerge from cryogenic sleep on a starship, discover they are in fact prematurely awakened clones designed to repopulate a decimated human population, and thus head back to Earth to do so, getting into adventures along the way. To the show’s benefit, the writers of the series decided to go the ‘bleak sci-fi’ style, which resulted in some fairly grim stories - when your backstory involves a virus wiping out the human race, how could you not? Oh, and irresistibly-cute Nicole de Boer was one of the leads (her pre-Deep Space 9 role - god, am I ever getting my geek on here…); even if the show was utterly lame, I could watch her any day!

Fortunately, Deepwater Black wasn’t lame, though it was obviously produced on the cheap and didn’t last long. Plus, it was just a little too youth focused. Mind, it’s understandable that it would be, as Canadian network YTV (no, I won’t tell you what that stands for - it’s really, really obvious) was a co-producer of the show, but that did effectively limit the potential audience since most teenaged sci-fi fans would have probably been more dedicated to shows like Trek, B5, or Xena anyway. Still, 13 episodes aired, and it’s retained cult status for the curious, at least at a level of any second-tier anime series.

Oh, and they also released a CD in conjunction with the show.

Actually, it was this CD that even clued me into Deepwater Black, as I saw it floating about in the racks at the music shop I worked for at the time. Naturally, my, er, ‘raver curiosity’ was intrigued by the tracklist. My manager seemed to be the opposite: “Oh yeah, that’s that show that has those kids with the funny hair,” he mentioned (huh?). I had no idea what he was talking about, especially so since Deepwater Black had been cancelled for a year by then, but any show that featured as varied names as The Prodigy, Delerium, Jonny L, and Gary Numan couldn’t be all bad, could it?

That’s the quirky thing about this CD though: aside from the Fred Mollin-penned theme song (Inclonation), none of these songs were ever in the series. Rather, and I quote from the liner notes: “These tracks do not necessarily appear in the Deepwater Black series, but do represent part of the producers’ dwb psyche.” Like, how, exactly? They were listening to these tracks while writing and filming the show? They just took the opportunity to make a kind of mixtape for fans of the show? Yet another excuse to milk an ‘electronica’ compilation (this was, after all, 1997)?

Still, even if you were to go with the cynical option, this is a surprisingly varied CD that manages to retain a decent spacey theme. The only track I’d really pin down as being an ‘electronica’ compilation cliché is Emperion’s Narcotic Influence; and maybe Delerium’s Euphoria (that one was getting all the promotional buzz on the heels of the album Karma), but the rest do manage to stand out from your standard ’97 ‘electronica’ glut. For instance, of all the Prodigy tracks to choose from, The Heat? Really? That’s… unexpected. Then you get spaced-out drum’n’bass from Jonny L’s Treading, Underworld cool-groove from Moonshine big-beat heroes Cirrus, the earliest of early productions from broken-beat producer Moonstarr (tripped-out acid jazz in Imperial Starr Cruiser’s case), underground hip-hop from Toronto act Mood Ruff… essentially a lot of psychedelic break-beats and chilled-out trip-hop to be had here. Then finally, of course, Gary Numan’s Metal - the original thirty-year old version. Talk about your musical swerves.

The association this CD has with Deepwater Black is fleeting at best (space-themed show - space-themed music?), but it’s a fine EDM compilation in its own right. Varied yet consistent, familiar tunes rubbing shoulders with overlooked gems, plus a sense that whoever did gather up these tracks, it was for a love of the music itself rather than trying to cash-grab with obvious hits. Granted, it’s yet another one of those releases that you won’t miss if you don’t pick it up (on the cheap, of course), yet nor will you be disappointed should you decide to check it out anyway.

Much like Deepwater Black itself, really.