Dusted - When We Were Young

Nettwerk: 2000/2001

It's criminal the amount of folks who overlook this album. No, I've empirical evidence backing this up, barely four-hundred copies owned by denizens of Discogs. By comparison, over twenty-seven hundred Discogians have some version of Outrospective from Faithless, Rollo's main super-famous popular project. But I get it: despite the glowing critical praise Dusted earned with this debut, few knew what to make of it. It didn't help ol' Roland isn't much of an attention hound, always hiding in the producer's cubby while others reap the glory from his efforts (Sister Bliss, Maxi Jazz, Dido), to say nothing of Mark Bates' contributions here. There was little media promoting it too, just a Deep Dish remix and a rather crap CGI video supporting the lead single Always Remember To Respect Your Mother. And while the artwork is an obvious homage to Maurice Sendak's Where The Wild Things Are, it's not the sort of style your average punter is gonna' find themselves drawn too. Nay, wait until they're at mid-life, and reflections on childhood innocence while tending to a child yourself becomes far more poignant.

That, in a nutshell, is likely why When We Were Young failed to gain 'classic album status' despite all the musical muscle supporting such an honour: its audience was just too niche. Still, folks weaned on copious amounts of Faithless should vibe on the opening few tracks. Childhood sets the stage in a dreamy morning-after bliss as many of Rollo's best chilled-out instrumental pieces so often do, while follow-up Time Takes Time goes for more of a soul-fusion slant. Want U and Hurt U tread into trip-hop territory, with a growing sense of youthful uncertainty and anxiety coming to grips with experiencing such emotions for the first time. Capping this stretch off with the creepy If You Go Down To The Woods, as though you're lost and alone in an unknown world, and you're more than ready to accept the loving, tender embrace of Always Remember To Respect Your Mother, Pt. 1, Dido's operatic vocals carrying you to places safe and warm again.

And that's just the first half of this brilliant album!

From there, When We Were Young grows more mature sounding, soulful croons from Luke Garwood mostly leading the way. There's further dalliances into trip-hop (Always Remember To Respect Your Mother, Pt. 2, Winter), cheeky weirdness for a 'lawf' (The Oscar Song), gospel exuberance (The Biggest Fool In The World, Under The Sun), and folksy reflection (Oh, How Sweet, If I Had A Child). And yeah, these are just broad genre descriptors, as Rollo and Bates never settle into any one tidy style, fusing everything into a sound that's unmistakably theirs. I mean, you've heard it before, during the downtime in most Faithless records.

When We Were Young is essentially the mellow-chill creativity of Rollo unleashed – no need of adhering to club anthems or Maxi Jazz lyrics here, my friends. If that isn't enough of a selling point of this album, I don't know is.

Mick Chillage - Paths

Databloem: 2016

I spent a huge chunk of my last Mick Chillage review endlessly going on about music formats, nearly rendering (M)odes a hilarious/frustrating non-review. Not this time though. I'm giving Paths all the musical critical hyper-practical attention it deserves. But first, some background on Databloem!

I've name-dropped the label in the past, on account artists I've covered before have released material through them. Finally digging through their catalogue proper-like, I didn't realize how wide a net Databloem casts. They've put out albums from students of '80s old-school ambient (Oöphoi! Tau Ceti! Steve Stoll! Mathias Grassow!) to students of '90s school ambient (Chillage! Norris as Nacht Plank! Segue! Lingua Lustra!), and a whole lot more I don't recognize in the slightest (I think sgnl_fltr appeared on an Ultimae compilation one time). They aren't a large label by any stretch – fifteen years in business, with a half-dozen releases per – but as they came upon that anniversary, Databloem felt a swagger-itch in need of scratching. Their solution was rounding up some artists who'd released prior music on their print, and have them craft whole new albums in celebration. Only, a regular LP just wouldn't do, oh no. To celebrate fifteen years, Databloem shot for nothing less than the double-LP experience for each artist. I... can't say I've ever seen that happen before, so points for unique marketing.

Of course, dealing with ambient producers here, knocking out a couple fifty-plus minute compositions to fill that running length ain't no th'ang. And while Mick Chillage doesn't typically go to those runtimes in his works, he does indulge himself to that degree in the fifty minute long Three Years. Beyond being something of a nod to the '80s school of ambient though, I'm struggling to justify such a length. The opening section has flowing pad synths, and under normal circumstances, tidily wraps up around the thirteen minute mark, a suitable length for this sort of track. But a single, low drone carries on, and we're eventually introduced to spacier, minimalist doodling with piano touches – rather '90s style. That carries on for another twelve or so minutes, then things go brighter with drawn-out strings (I'm hesitant to drop the 'modern classical' tag on it). There's a return to prior elements for the lengthy finish, but man does Three Years ever take its time getting there. And if you feel I've spent too much word-count detailing a single track out of twelve, it's kinda' hard ignoring such a behemoth of a composition.

Three Years essentially eats up the bulk of CD2, with a couple 'shorter' ambient pieces that tread close to the realms of New Age ambient rounding it out (Hearts Of Space, yo'). If you have a craving for Chillage beats though, CD1 should get your fix in, some even getting downright peppy and funky with it (Canis Majoris). It isn't anything we haven't heard from Mick before, but chap's got a solid groove going such that he doesn't need convoluted wheels at this point.

Enigma - Voyageur

Virgin: 2003

I can't say Enigma fell off after this album, Michael Cretu having released three additional albums since, including one this past winter after an eight year absence. And while hard sales are no where near what was enjoyed at the start of this project, he's retained enough of a dedicated following that his streaming figures remain respectable (so sayeth The Spotify).

Yet ask casual electronic music followers these days what they think of those albums, and they'll answer you with “Who's Enigma?” Then you'll try to educate them on albums like MCMXC a.D., and singles like Return To Innocence, and maybe they'll mention hearing their moms play those when they were kids, to which you'll realize you're getting just so very old and want to retreat to comforting sounds. Like the familiar, seductive, soothing refrains of classic Enigma, yeah, that'll do the trick, and by the by, have they released anything new lately? Ooh, here's some stuff on Spotify, may as well check that out.

Not that I blame folks for figuring Engima's time had passed. By the fourth album, The Screen Behind The Mirror, it felt as though Mr. Cretu was stuck recycling old habits; at least even he recognized the sound had grown stale. Following a greatest hits package proclaiming closure on the first chapter of Enigma's story, he came out with this album, Voyageur, a stated deliberate change in direction and song-writing. What that was supposed to lead to remains anyone's guess.

Rather, the main talking points surrounding Voyageur almost always bring up what it lacks compared to Enigma of old. No more ethnic chants and Gregorian sampling, gone are the vintage woodwinds that always immediately identified a Michael Cretu production. Both “Curly” M.C. and his wife still provide a few vocals, but more vocalists have been added to the table too. In fact, this is the 'poppiest' Enigma's ever sounded, songs short, concise, and radio-ready should any of them catch on. Only two did, the titular cut and Boum-Boum, both dancier options. Not so dancey as Look Of Today though, with one of the catchiest hooks I've ever heard in the Enigma canon (and well it should, being an interpolation of ABC's The Look Of Love).

Elsewhere, Incognito gets rockier, Page Of Cups aims for a little chill-out compilation action (it failed), and tracks like Weightless and The Piano dip closer to the New Age side of Cretu's muse. Meanwhile, In The Shadow, In The Light and closer Follow The Sun shoot for the emotional, spiritual feels, and I can't say I'm getting the feels from them like other Enigma tunes. There's something lacking, the same strident confidence you'd hear from Cretu's production no matter how overblown the music could get. Maybe its the result of trying something different, a feeling-out process after so many years relying on familiar songcraft. And Voyageur is fine enough on that regard, but that's about the only lasting impression this album ever generated. Ain't no one humming Boum-Boum, even then.

Various - Unwind - A Journey Into Global Grooves (2017 Update)

Com.Pact Records: 2005

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.)


When I first reviewed this compilation eleven years ago for TranceCritic, I gave it an overwhelming ‘meh’. Four years later, when I provided a quickie update, my thoughts hadn’t changed much. After that additional listen, I figured Unwind would forever after sit lost in a tower of CDs, unremarked, unloved, save a passing fancy to hear that nifty Psionyx track again. Well, that’s not what happened at all. First, I’ve ditched the wavy towers in favor of some bitchin’ wall-mounted shelves, since they’re more space efficient in an increasingly cluttered apartment (must… move… soon…), and makes what I got easier to organize. Right, that’s totally unrelated to anything here, but I gotta’ get my ramblematic on as I always do in these 20xx Updates, so may as well do that now.

No, the strange development involving Unwind is I’ve… kinda’ grown more fond of it in recent years? It’s somehow managed to curate a form of ‘scrappy underdog’ vibe for yours truly, where my fondness for the chill musics keep me coming back to give it another chance every so often. Yet sure as the rising sun, the moment I play that opening track of Spring Thing from Solarians, a sharp shiver spikes across my spine, my shoulders cringing upward in the vicinity of my earlobes, and I want nothing more than to turn the disc off, sending it back into the shadows of my stacks o’ CDs.

Turns out I should have followed the advice from my original review: simply skip that track and never think of it again, giving these other tunes a chance out of that gosh-darned Full Album Context I always demand. Wouldn’t you know it, that’s super easy to do when you’ve got everything ripped to a harddrive and stumble upon an occasional tune through the magic of the Shuffle feature. Wow, how did I miss that U&K’s Sähkövalo or Visual Paradox’ GaYo is so darn trip-hoppy? Or that the tunes from Sunfire and Wilson Stout wouldn’t have sounded out of place on that ultra-Balearic collection Ambient Ibiza from the ‘90s? I still can’t say these are anywhere near the best examples of such genres, but considering they’re appearing on a CD from an Israeli psy-trance print that seldom broke mold from the popular full-on strain, I have to hand it to Unwind for offering such a wide range of diverse chill-out. It’s a bold move when, given the typical Com.Pact Records audience, Shpongle clones would have been the safe bet.

A pair of the more interesting tracks, the dubby Blue from Lish and breaks action from Sesto Sento’s Slow Move offer some interesting tidbits of career info since Unwind came out. Sesto Sento’s gone on to be one of the more successful full-on psy acts, still producing music to this day, while Lish managed a minor, collaborative hit when they paired up with Ace Ventura for The Light. Poor Psionyx though, disappeared shortly after. G’ah, would have loved an album from him.

Various - United State Of Ambience II - Mid-Atlantic Sessions

Moonshine Music: 1994

Moonshine wasn’t foolin’ in hitting the streets hard with their relaunch. Following their first forays into the ambient compilation market, they pushed out another acid jazz collection (no, really, it was popular!), two more DJ mixes featuring famed jocks Paul Oakenfold and, um, Keoki, plus the start of their Psychotrance series. Oh, and inexplicably, a CD that included euro house from Glam, Bizarre Inc, Snap! and 2 Unlimited came out in this bundle. True, there was some Prodigy, Atlantic Ocean, and X-Press 2 on Handraizer, but man, does that disc look dodgy for a print quickly establishing itself as a purveyor of sounds from the underground.

Still, what point is there in releasing a compilation if you can’t capitalize it into a series? None, says they, and Moonshine put out another United State Of Ambience the same year. Huh, that was remarkably fast. Did they have another selection of tracks ready to go or something? Perhaps so, volume two coming with a thematic sub-title and everything. Right, the first one had a loose ‘tribal ambient’ idea running through, but the message was muddled with an unfortunate spotty track list. Seems whatever mistakes were had on the first one were promptly corrected though, Mid-Atlantic Sessions a far lovelier, consistent, wonderful, and ace compilation compared to its predecessor.

First improvement is some actual star power up in this (ambient) house. No offence to Young American Primitive and Dubtribe Soundsystem, but few were aware of these names way back in ’94, to say nothing of Rabbit In The Moon side-projects. On United State Of Ambience II, however, we get tracks from Orbital, One Dove (with an assist from Andrew Weatherall), and Salt Tank. Okay, Electric Skychurch too – he was about the closest thing to an early Moonshine star anyway, especially his breakout track Deus, included here as the opener. One Dove does an utterly epic world-beat dub thing with Transient Truth, Salt Tank offer up their chill version of Eugina in Sargasso Sea, while an edited cut of Orbital’s funky Attached tops out the heavy hitters. Yeah, not sure where Moonshine got the idea of Attached being part of the ambient-scape, but why waste a perfectly good tune if you’ve got the license for it?

And though the surrounding tracks are mostly rounded out by unknowns, they hold their own in complimenting the heavy (chill) hitters. Ambient dub gets its due with Aurora Borealis’ Aquacular Subsun and Synthetix’ The Tao Of Dub. The ‘angelic ambient acid’ side Deus did so well is also explored in Somnambulist’s Deeper Sleeper and Influx’ Dreamscape, and Grain returns for another minimalist tribal-dub track in Sixteen. Best of all, no sappy Pure Moods styled world-beat!

Moonshine knocked it out with United State Of Ambience II. At a time when ‘ambient house’ compilations were aplenty, the label found a fresh angle to approach it from (psychedelic sky-church music!), and executed it perfectly. If you see this in a used-shop, don’t hesitate in snatching it up.

Pantha Du Prince - The Triad

Rough Trade: 2016

Pantha Du Prince is Hendrik Weber, a very important person in the world of techno. Along with analog-loving sorts like The Field, he helped ease the scene out of its stuffy pretentions by injecting playful, melodic elements within. It was a desperately needed development following the dry, dank era of minimal ‘this are serious music’ techno, and ol’ Pantha toed the line between tough, functional beatcraft and heart-tugging sentimentality as capably as any producer. By the time his Black Noise album dropped in 2010, folks were so warmed by his charming bell tones and shoegazing timbre, the transition from minimal tech-house singles was practically an afterthought, proclaiming this was the proper Pantha Du Prince stylee all along. Well, except for those stubborn hold-outs from his earliest Dial days – sorry, guys, he ain’t going back to the micro-haus anytime soon.

Still, Black Noise came out in ye’ olde year of 2010, such an age ago compared to where techno has developed since. Bringing melody into your works is no longer such a taboo stylistic choice within this scene, all manner of producers getting their analog pad and hypnotic arp works on. Some see it as the growing influence of indie musicians ‘discovering’ techno (thanks, Pitchfork!), thus bringing their tricks of trade into the scene as well. For sure the shoegaze side of things has long shared attributes with chill-out genres (going by a wack moniker of, ugh, ‘chillwave’), but that it penetrated the traditionally uptight techno scene was remarkable. Oddly, whenever I hear this stuff, I keep thinking of trance music, albeit of a far classier sort than you’ll often find labeled as such. All hail ‘neo trance’!

What I’m trying to get around to saying is Pantha Du Prince’s style of shoegaze-tech-minimal-neo-prog-haus isn’t the shining beacon of light within a dour scene it once was – plenty of producers have caught on that you can make techno that’s rather chill too (but not ambient techno, that’s something different). That leaves his long awaited follow-up to Black Noise - The Triad - existing in a strange no-man’s land of expectations. Folks adored the last record, but are they really hankering for a return to that sound after so long, and with so many other options now available? And what of that all-important Artistic Evolution we demand of our techno heroes? Whatever is Pantha Du to do?

Carry on from Black Noise, it seems. The Triad is just as melodic with the bell tones and shoegazy with the floating vibes, though perhaps a little lighter on the dancefloor effectiveness. There’s a few tough basslines about (Chasing Vapour Trails, Lichterschmaus) but this is one subdued record compared to his early material. Ol’ Pantha’s far more interested in exploring open spaces between his beats and bells, with floating vocals, layered instrumentation (guitars, yo’!), and expansive pads edging his music ever closer to the domain of progressive house to my ears. I therefore dig this album, though it’s so stubbornly mellow, I find my attention drifting too often.

William Orbit - Strange Cargo III

I.R.S. Records: 1993

The only William Orbit album you’re supposed to have, despite most folks buying up Pieces In A Modern Style as their One True Orbit album instead. Without the success of Strange Cargo III, however, there may not have even been a Pieces In A Modern Style! Okay, that’s stretching things. Ol’ Will already had a decent reputation in clubland as a remixer throughout the early ‘90s, providing rubs for an eclectic assortment of artists (Prince, Nitzer Ebb, Erasure, Kraftwerk, Betty Boo, Peter Gabriel, Sven Väth, The Cure, The Shamen, The Human League, The Madonna). He was also actively making music under various guises since the early ‘80s – synth-pop in the group Torch Song, ravey UK house with Bassomatic. William ‘Orbit’, though, was Mr. Wainwright’s main creative outlet, where he artistically indulged himself with ambient, pop, funk, and whatever genre fusion struck his fancy at the time – hoo, is the first Strange Cargo ever dripping with ‘80s fusion.

Thus Orbit was no stranger to DJs the world over, and the UK. If anything, they were quite receptive to whatever music he produced, though perhaps with a cautious ear, Orbit so often toeing the line between savvy club weapons and blatant crossover material. Whatever misgivings DJs might have had with Mr. Wainwrights’ earlier material, however, was quickly assuaged when Water From A Vine Leaf dropped as Strange Cargo III’s lead single, practically a re-introduction of Orbit to a whole new generation of ravers and punters unfamiliar with his ‘80s output.

An instant classic in Balearic and progressive house circles (remixes from Spooky and Underworld helped), playlisted by all the Very Important DJs, and even picked up by the mighty Virgin for distribution, it would be one of Orbit’s most successful singles ever released under his own moniker. Oh, and it also introduced clubland to Beth Orton, her vivid dialog about four young girls giving her water from a vine leaf (just dropping it onto her tongue) almost single-handily making her an in-demand vocalist for producers (Chemical Brothers sure noticed).

It’s tough topping such a single, so Orbit doesn’t even try, instead spending the rest of Strange Cargo III genre hopping and blending styles of the time as he typically did with this series. A few more progressive tunes show up (Into The Paradise, The Story Of Light, A Touch Of The Night, Gringatcho Demento complete with a squalling guitar solo), proto trip-hop naturally gets a look (Time To Get Wize; Best Friend, Paranoia), hints of his future dalliance with modern classical make appearances (Harry Flowers, Water Babies), and ethnic-fusion chill-out drops in for a bit (A Hazy Shade Of Random, The Monkey King, Deus Ex Machina). Phew, is that ever an earful.

By no means is Strange Cargo III a perfect album. It does drag with Orbit’s indulgences in the back-half, and a few tracks have dated some. Still, it’s far more interesting than much of his work following Ray Of Light, totally deserving the praise it earned way back when.

Mick Chillage - Tales From The Igloo Re-Told

Psychonavigation Records: 2014

While Oliver Lieb's Inside Voices introduced me to Psychonavigation Records, this was the album that got me digging further into the Dublin print's discography, though almost entirely by chance. If I’d sought out Inside Voices through my usual Amazon means, the Bandcamp option would never had exposed me to the rest of Psychonavigation’s recent catalogue. Doing a casual glance-over, I noticed a curiously cartoony looking item among the more credible pieces of cover art, sticking out like an ice-encrusted thumb. Despite never hearing the name Mick Chillage before, I dug a bit further into this oddball snowball of a CD called Tales From The Igloo Re-Told. Ah, a remix album then, with rubs from names like Gel-Sol, Lorenzo Montanà, Peter Benisch, Dialog, the New Composers... *record scratch*.

Waitwaitwait...! The Peter Benisch? That dude who made wonderful music at the turn of the century, then practically disappeared from Earth? What’s he doing on such an innocuous CD? Is this just a one-shot, some sort of curried favour for the label? Is this Mick Chillage guy a bigger deal than I could have thought? And what of the album-proper of Tales From The Igloo? Is it some masterstroke of modern chill-out music to have lured in so many highly respected names within this scene? I mean, Peter Benisch ain’t the only old-schooler on this remix project. David Morley’s here! Dr. Atmo’s here! Scanner’s here! Man, it didn’t matter that I’d never heard the original album, thus having absolutely no frame of reference for these ‘retold’ings – I had to get this just to hear what these chaps have been up to! Maybe discover a couple additional names in the process (that Gel-Sol, why he so familiar?).

My epic odyssey through Psychonavigation Records’ archives these past couple months have answered many of these questions. Without this CD enticing me though, there likely would never have been the label splurge, much less hundreds of words on my part chronicling all this music from the Dublin print. Well, maybe a few, just based on general consensus of essential albums from Psychonavigation.Tales From The Igloo-Prime was likely an eventuality - it does come highly recommended from most discerning ambient heads, after all.

Even without hearing the original album, Re-Told holds strong on its own merits. Mr. Chillage’s original compositions were already unfussy, so it isn’t much for our clutch of remixers to apply their own styles to the minute melodies Mick crafted. Morley, Montana, and New Composure do their ambient techno thing, while Benisch, Scanner, and Sense opt for something more on the widescreen tip. Dialog goes for a dubbier outing, Gel-Sol offers something abstract, and Dr. Atmo has old-school ambient house clear in his sights. Oh, and Mick indulges his full Biosphere on a lengthier rub on Hypothermia. All this diversity actually makes Tales From The Igloo Retold a stronger LP than the original album, though obviously defeats the simplistic charm Chillage had going on his debut. A yin-yang deal we got going here, then.

Arpatle - The Day After

Psychonavigation Records: 2012

Look, when I said my trawl of Psychonavigation Records' blowout sale would reveal some super obscure producers, I meant it. Wait, did I say that? I can't remember now. That big purchase was many months ago, with so much more having arrived in my towers since. My initial fears of an over-abundance of the Ireland label's material in my current backlog queue is moot, plenty more albums breaking up any potential monotony. Not that the albums I did get are redundant retreads of the same sounds, oh no! I'm amazed just how diverse Psychonavigation's proving to be, and that's including me totally ignoring all the shoegaze rock stuff. Maybe a little chillwave though.

Then, our obscure artist for the day is Patrick Bossink, or Arpatle to those buying his music. You might remember him from the Psychonavigation compilation Psychonavigation Sampler 2013, and the cassette Ik En Jij, Allebei from Yoshimi!. Oh come on, there’s no way you’ve heard that one. Maybe one of Arpatle’s other albums though, Continuum from 2009 on Family Garden Recordings, or the recently released Quapi on Offshoot Records. The Day After is the LP lodged between those two in his discography, and I’m really struggling with the background details of this guy, aren’t I? It’s the entire internet’s fault, hopelessly scarce in info surrounding him. Lord Discogs just has him down as an ambient producer from Holland. His website has even less info than that, merely a window to his releases on various online platforms. At least Mr. Bossink wrote a few more lines for his Last.fm biography, mentioning he’s been studying Music and Technologies at the Utrecht School Of Arts. Yeah, The Day After totally has the markings of an arts student.

If anything, Arpatle loves treating the studio as a mini symphony, utilizing unconventional tones, sounds, and instruments in crafting his music. Opener Solstitium has something of a Far East thing going for it, but uses an xylophone (or some mallet instrument, I’m no expert) for its lead, then goes into an extended dubbed-out excursion in the middle before returning to the twee melodies. Follow-up Crickets nabs some field recordings of nocturnal critters (I hear more frogs than crickets), then goes for a minimalist excursion through dubby tones and treatments. Third track goes drone with its effects, though has a chipper country mood about it, as though we’re riding along some Western setting on our horses. On acid.

To abstract, you know those interlude moments on Future Sound Of London albums, where they indulge themselves with sonic collages and experimental doodling? That’s what much of The Day After sounds like, though tighter in composition. Some tracks, like shoegazey Arctic Trip and the lush ambience of Wake Me Up, are quite the treat for the ears. Others, like ultra-minimalist Headache and spacious Satie’s Birthday (so much space!), instead come off as Arpatle having some art-house fun in his studio. It’s all quite pleasant, though lacking musical muscle to stay lodged in your head for long.

Faithless - Sunday 8PM

Arista: 1998

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

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

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

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

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

Circular - Substans

Ultimae Records: 2009

When I reviewed Circular’s Moon Pool last year, I mentioned their previous LP on Ultimae, Substans, was “a good album, but didn’t ignite much buzz”. While the second part of the sentence is true, I’m having difficulty supporting the first. I listen to this CD, hear things I like, sounds that are evocative, comforting, and interesting, even discern a loose mood around icy Nordic ambience, but God, does that latter third of the album ever evaporate in haste from my memory. Hell, even as it plays, Circular’s exercise in minimalist sonic textures and timbre fails to penetrate my cognizant synapses. I lie down with headphones, only to conk out after the uptempo cut Hurumburum (track seven out of thirteen). I go for a stroll with Substans on my other headphones, my only distraction the sidewalk in front of me – I start thinking of Transformers comics (!) during my wanderings. I literally have the album emanating from my living room speakers as I type this, and I completely missed hearing the guitar fuzz drone of Walking On Sand. Dammit, Facebook wasn’t that distracting for those three minutes.

Point being, a good album shouldn’t have moments that lose your attention. Once or twice, I can see it happening, as we live in an incredibly distracting world, but not with repeated play-throughs. I’ve thrown on Substans at least a half-dozen times since getting it a couple years back, and at least a third of it still remains a mystery to me. I can’t think of any other Ultimae release that’s accomplished this.

Such a shame. The surrounding tracks on Substans are fine pieces of music, if a little slight on execution. For the first third of the album, there’s a sense of sonic exploration, no two tracks similar in style, and typically alternating between low-key or a brisk pace. Rablekok has a deeply dubbed- out rhythm with gentle electric guitar treatments, whereas follow-up Little Girls Eat Chocolate is a charming piece of spritely chill ambience. Time Machine has a glitchy acoustic thing going for it, and is paired with darker ambient techno on Bits (Chernozem Remix). Wie Geht’s, Minsk? sounds about as close to vintage Ultimae psy-chill as this album gets, and appropriately enough has the prog psy Hurumburum come right after.

Finally, at the end of Substans, there’s Nothing But Dead Landscapes, a nine and a half excursion through droning ambient, pulsing ambient techno, and future-shock soundscapes, with a little electric guitar dub thrown in at the end for good measure. This track, above all else, deserves that Future Sound Of London comparison folks were often throwing about with regards to Circular’s music, and shows the potential of their songcraft better than anything else on here. Oh, and Biosphere too, especially with the icy ambient drone of Isroser right before it.

Unfortunately, this isn’t enough to recommend Substans for anyone other than Ultimae completists. Despite the “good album” ideas present, they don’t coalesce into a strong, long-form whole.

Salt Tank - ST 3

Internal: 1994

Salt Tank will forever only be known for one track, which is a shame because they did put out some solid UK techno and trance back in the day. Eugina though, that got them their break, such that they couldn’t escape its shadow – not when branching out from the Balearic vibes everyone adored them for, nor when they tried cashing in on it with retreads. Following a slew of shiny year 2000 remixes of Eugina, David Gates and Malcom Stanners disappeared after the turn of the millennium, going into relative stasis for over a decade. Now they’ve re-emerged with a couple trance singles for Solarstone’s retro-uplifting Pure Trance print.

We’re dealing with the beginning though, or at least as close to it as we can. The Salt Tank story goes all the way back to the heady days of UK rave, where they self-released a few mostly forgotten records. Still, they must have sensed the tools were there to go far in the business, as these singles were given simple, sequential titles (ST 1, ST 2). I also sense some inspiration from Orbital on the parts of Misters Gates and Stanners, as soon enough they had a clear winner in Eugina for ST 3. I wouldn’t go so far as to say it’s a rip-off of Lush, Halcyon + On + On, or other Orbital ‘blissy techno’ hybrids, but it does borrow from the same template. Take a whispy female vocal, bring in a few bleepy hooks, add a catchy guitar strum (that one’s from Jam & Spoon!), and mix it into a pleasant Balearic vibe. Boom, instant classic, and one that would be canned by Paul Oakenfold forever after.

As ST 3 is essentially the Eugina EP, it has a few remixes included, though all given original track titles for maximum confusion. Pacific Diva may as well be the extended club mix of Eugina, while Waimea Wilderness is the ambient dub version, and real dull at that. Too sparse, too under-produced, and a thumping kick emulating a heartbeat does not a captivating piece of dub make. That said, all the sonic isolation does benefit the Tori Amos sample, if you know its original context from Me And A Gun (you’ll never hear Eugina the same way again, trust). Best of the lot though is Sargasso Sea, with proto psy-dub act Astralasia giving the rub, taking the Balearic vibes of the original and running with it for a sublime slice of chill-out ambience.

For some reason, Salt Tank rescued their oldie tune Charged Up (I'm hearing Orbital again) and added it to ST 3, including an ambient dub remix from Zion Train called Charged In Zion Canyon. And in the middle ofST 3 is Clone, a pure techno workout in the CJ Bolland vein, though done by The Advent in this case. Wait, did Advent co-produce this with Salt Tank, or is this a remix of an uncredited track? Curse these limited two-decade old liner notes.

Solarstone - Electronic Architecture 3

Black Hole Recordings: 2014

Ain’t no way epic, uplifting, melodic, cheesepuff trance could make a comeback, all the former heroes of the sound chasing the lucrative festival market and the awful music that comes with it, loyal fanbase be damned. Anjunabeats? Forget it. Ferry Corsten? Not really. Armin? Pft, he was never that good anyway. And yet, one name did hold out, quietly going about his business without much fanfare, steadily building a respectable reputation as one of the few, classy purveyors of a sound that defined a generation of clubbers at the turn of the millennium.

Who'd have thought the Solarcoaster guy would be the one, eh? Richard Mowatt wasn't even that busy a chap during the '00s, at least compared to your usual tastemaker within the trance scene. An album or two, a DJ mix CD here and there, but nothing to suggest he'd become the curator of a style having long thought tired and stale. Even the first Electronic Architecture, released around the same time as his album Rain Stars Eternal, didn't get that much notice as the old standard bearers still churned out their bilge. Slowly and surely though, old school fans of melodic trance noticed Solarstone was doing something different with his mixes, something respectable and, dare they say, credible in an age where trance is routinely mocked. This and his Pure Trance series have gone on as reliable mixes for those who still yearn for the early 2000s, providing fresh sounding tunes with a distinctly vintage feel.

Naturally, I was suspicious of such praise, but after the surprising turn with In Trance We Trust 020, maybe Electronic Architecture deserved a listen-hear too. I may not have much fondness for the ultra, epic, melodic, fluffball brand of trance Solarstone occasionally dabbles in, but his Balearic and chill moments are usually good. And with three CDs to work with, I felt the odds were in my favour.

Well, two out of three ain’t bad. CD2 has all the trance I just can’t care much about, and is bursting with far too many got’dang full-stop breakdowns, ruining any momentum it has going. CD1, on the other hand, goes proper Balearic for a good while, with plenty groovy prog rhythms and floating vibes throughout before ramping the energy up for a strong finish. It’s progressive trance that plays to Solarstone’s strengths without overindulging in them. Okay, technically so was the uplifting stuff on CD2, but CD1’s style more class, yo’.

Now, CD3, that was a surprise. Filled with downtempo reinterpretations of tracks off CDs 1 and 2, I wasn’t expecting much. Some pleasant ambient pad work and a trip-hop beat would have sufficed, and the first few tracks provided as such. Then things get gnarly (Razorbeam), spacey (Red Orbit), and even gloriously wide-screened (Metal Jaws). While not quite at par with Ultimae’s best (obviously), there’s some seriously epic sounding chill-out on display in this disc, almost worth the price of Electronic Architecture 3 alone. An ace first disc doesn’t hurt either.

Alucidnation - Aural Architecture

Interchill Records: 2013

A lucid nation is the state of which my head currently resides, swimming in post-festival flu and medications galore. I was so sure I'd escaped it too, not feeling any symptoms even after a few days back home. That's what I get for being so cocky about my health on the ride home, my car mates all suffering from wretched states of being as I casually smirked. Oh, why didn't I wear that filter for the nine hour exodus? Now I must endure a six day stretch of work while being ghetto high. Okay, enough grumbling.

Alucidnation is Bruce Bickerton, a chap who's been involved in the chill side of electronic music for some fifteen years now. He got his break while involved with Big Chill Recordings, a group also known for making a tidy buck with chill-out themed music festivals in the UK. Primarily though, he self-releases his own music, much of the Alucidnation back-catalogue available only through mail-order. And, hoo boy, is there ever a lot of it, so there must be something to this 'press to order' music business model.

Every so often though, Mr. Bickerton puts something out on a proper label. His last such venture was with Interchill Records, who have plucked the odd Alucidnation track for their compilations over the years. Guess both parties felt it appropriate giving the fiercely independent project a little extra promotional love, and a well deserved bump at that. It's been too long since Tom Middleton gave Alucidnation some spotlight way back on The Sound Of The Cosmos - time for new ears to discover this guy.

A self-described melancholic, the music on Aural Architecture reflects such moods without going too mopey about it. Really, the first few tracks are rather chipper for a music intended for the downtime of one’s day. Protocol grooves along with a chill Balearic vibe, Spring breaks out the ol’ acoustic guitar alongside a soft, high tempo that’d make Solarstone weak in the knees, and Jammy Dodger gets my Petar Dundov senses tingling.

Things go dubby for a few couple tracks after, then Aural Architecture melts into a stream of dreamy piano pieces (The View From The Balcony I, Tresaith, A Place In The Sunshine), ultra-chill dub rhythms (A View From The Balcony II, A Melancholic), and pure ambient drone (One Zero Two), all wrapped in an aura of static fuzz. Summing all these various tones and styles is the nigh eleven-minute long closer Genetics, a strong wrap-up to a lovely album sending the listener out with a blissy smile. D’aw, I’m getting all the feels here.

I can’t deny much of what I’ve written reads like many other chill-out LPs floating out there like so much fluffy clouds on a sunny day. This one though, this particular cloud, there’s something about it, catching your eyes just a little longer as it gently morphs into other forms passing across the blue above. Aural Architecture’s definitely worth that lingering gaze.

Faithless - No Roots

Arista: 2004

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

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

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

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

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

Faithless - Reverence

Cheeky/Arista: 1996/1997

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

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

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

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

Solarstone - Rain Stars Eternal (Original TC Review)

Solaris Recordings: 2008

(2015 Update:
I recall being harsher in my words towards this album, but aside from a few snarky digs here and there, clearly that wasn't the case. I know I didn't outright hate the album, and my opinions of euro-trance music had mellowed some, but surely not to such a degree that I'd give the sap on Rain Stars Eternal a pass without flying off the ragin' deep end. Whatever, at least we can all agree Breakaway remains as pants as ever.

What's more fascinating about the Solarstone saga is how his DJ career's gained far more critical plaudits compared to his album output. He's released a couple more LPs since this one, but about all folks go on about these days are the Electronic Architecture and Pure Trance series. They're hailed as shining examples of trance as it should be, though I wouldn't know since I haven't indulged in any of them - what many figure as 'real' trance often contradicts my own notion on the matter, especially where traditional fans of Solarstone's material are concerned. Still, all that high praise can't be for naught, and it probably wouldn't hurt to check out one or two of those. I mean, what else am I gonna' spend my 'obligatory trance-cracker DJ mix CD' money on, more In Trance We Trust discs? Haha, ha.)


IN BRIEF: A decade in the making?

Lately, when there’s talk of melodic trance producers who had hits during the big late-90s boom, a degree of frustration and disappointment comes up when reflecting on their current output. The list of fallen-off names that long-time fans of the genre are disgruntled with is a long one, and needn’t be brought up here. It has gotten to the point, though, where you can’t even bring them up online without a flame-war erupting.

Yet, there are a few respected individuals that escaped such harsh fates, retaining their credibility even as the genre itself crumbled around them. As should be quite obvious to you since you clicked a link to this review, Solarstone is amongst this group. It seems no matter the particular taste in trance music, general consensus has deemed tracks like Seven Cities and Solarcoaster as class. With such promising early singles, folks eagerly waited for an album. And waited... and waited...

Now over ten years since breaking out with The Calling, and minus long-time producing partner Andy Bury, Rich Mowatt has come correct with a proper long-player (the previous two-disc Anthology was essentially a greatest hits package of various projects). It’s been a long time coming, but thanks to the odd single over the years and continued fond memories for his prior hits, fans of Solarstone have kept a vested interest in the name. And yet strangely enough, there haven’t been high expectations for Rain Stars Eternal either. It’s as though folks know the days of Seven Cities and Solarcoaster are behind him, so they’ve given Mowatt the good grace of delivering an album which makes sense in the here-and-now rather than clinging to the past.

With such freedom at his disposal, it may come as a bit of a disappointment that Mowatt has opted for the pop route, though shouldn’t be too surprising since the Solarstone moniker always leaned more to the melodically accessible side of trance music. What this means, however, is Rain Stars Eternal is filled with oodles of vocals, an attribute that more often than not sends up red flags when it comes to trance producers. Are these flags warranted this time out? The answer, my friends, is yes and no. Since this answer isn’t the least bit helpful, allow me to elaborate, starting with the ‘yes’.

If anything, Mowatt has crafted an album that paints a world where all that is vile and abhorrent in life has been whisked away. Instead, loving emotions and sentiments that caress the soul are ever present. At times, you almost feel like you’ve stumbled upon some kind of fantasy-land where unicorns and fairies frolic in fields of flowers. Yet, it doesn’t come across as sickly sweet as you might think, as Mowatt keeps things at a level of class, never the least bit embarrassing.

Case in point: Lunar Rings. When I first heard this one, the oh-so precious sugary vocals by guest-singer Essence had me instinctively irate and aggressive. It wasn’t from actually hating the song, though, but from my body reflexively surging me with testosterone, probably to make sure my testicles were still there after hearing something so syrupy and effeminate. After going back to listen with a properly objective perspective, I found Lunar Rings a rather decent slice of euro-trance goof-ball pop; there’s no point in criticizing a song that succeeds in its aim, even though it’s not something I’d likely willingly ever listen to again.

Tracks like the ode to an unborn child (Part Of Me) and about relationships (Late Summer Fields and Slave) are also well produced with vocals that are quite enjoyable. Unfortunately, the other two vocal tracks - Filoselle Skies and Breakaway - are rough stumbles. While the former starts nicely enough, Julie Scott’s singing soon clashes with the pleasant musical backings Mowatt provides; it’s rather shocking how off it sounds when compared to their other collaboration in Slave. Meanwhile, Breakaway is totally misguided, Mowatt trying his hand at ‘emo-dance’ with an over-emoting American-based male vocalist and production that’s about as watered-down as pop-rock dance music gets; considering Rain Stars Eternal is mostly filled with airy ethereal melodies, Breakaway’s contemporary backdrop is completely out of place. Heck, why even get such a sappy singer for it anyway? As evidenced in Late Summer Fields, Mowatt is more than capable of carrying credible vocal duties himself.

There are also a few standard instrumental trance tunes scattered about, but aside from the titular track, these aren’t much to get excited about. Although they are nice enough, Spectrum and 4Ever are going through the motions, as though Mowatt wasn’t as concerned with them. Fortunately, he easily makes up for such basic tracks with a very lovely bit of music on the closer The Last Defeat. While it may dip somewhat into New Agey soundscapes, it’s of the sort that is still quite soothing and relaxing, and ends Rain Stars Eternal on a strong note.

A positive final impression, however, isn’t enough to save this album from a middling score, albeit a high middling score. The trouble is, despite a strong opening sequence of songs, the decided lack of anything innovative or unique firmly keeps Rain Stars Eternal in the realms of ‘merely pleasant pop music’. Mowatt is a better producer and song-writer than many of the folks over at Armada or Anjunabeats, of that there is no doubt, yet he still hasn’t progressed much from his output earlier in the decade. If the Solarstone of old still holds fond memories for you, this proper debut will probably satisfy to some degree. Unfortunately, unlike those classic singles, there isn’t enough on here to leave the same kind of lasting impression.

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

Asura - Radio Universe

Ultimae Records: 2014

Though Radio Universe came out in the back-half of 2014, its Ultimae catalogue number suggests it should have come out at least a year earlier. Did Asura initially not feel satisfied with his latest LP and withheld it? Some legal hiccup with sample clearances? Waiting for the label to work out its dub techno 'grey' phase? Hoping to catch some backwash interest in space music once Interstellar hit theatres? The people wish to know these things! And by people, I probably mean only me, but I are people too, dang'it.

Ah, you noticed ‘space music’ in that sequence of supposition. ‘Tis true, Mr. Farewell has dabbled in the classic side of synth composition before, some of his best work the out-worldly pieces in his albums. It was only a matter of time before the sounds explored on tunes like Galaxies and Halley Road would feature in a full-length concept. For that matter, I’m surprised Asura’s taken this long for an attempt, but then he does have a rather sluggish output compared to his roster mates at Ultimae (and Altar!). Half-a-dozen albums in twice as many years is downright glacial against Aes Dana, Solar Fields, AstroPilot, namedrop, namedrop, and namedrop.

As for the type of space music we’re dealing with on Radio Universe, it’s primarily of the droning ambient sort. A beat doesn’t emerge until well after the album’s midway point, though second track Interlude Sky does have building synth arpeggios as a peak feature – you have no idea how much I was hoping for a fierce prog-psy beat towards the end of that one. Meanwhile, ten-minute long opener Overture has a little more cinematic, orchestral flourish, twelve-minute long Oblivion Gravity goes darker, eight-minute long Ascension In Blue feels rapturous and bliss, and one-minute long Gaea (Transit) sounds like those converted electromagnetic radio emissions of planets NASA likes giving out (and space drone composers love sampling). For that matter, I’ve noticed a bit of omnipresent hiss throughout all these tracks. Charles! Charlie! Charl-mang! Have you added the CMB to your music too? Nice.

As for the back half where the tempo picks up a bit, much of it comes off like standard Asura chill-out with HD production chops. Farscape 7 has a world-beat trip-hop thing going for it, Lonely Star’s got charming, melancholic piano but is undone by way-overdone side-chained bottom ends, Illuminations grooves along nicely enough, and Everlasting heads for the stars in blissed-out rapture. Frankly, the earlier drone compositions were more interesting, coming off bolder in their arrangements and sound design, though I’m not sure folks would be keen on a pure ambient drone LP on Ultimae.

Radio Universe is an intriguing listen, especially with good playback headphones or stereo. As a concept album, however, it falls a bit short, losing its way in the back half compared to the absorbing first. Probably will be a disappointment if you go in expecting another Life² (sorry, no psy here), but all said, it’s another solid offering of music from Asura.

ACE TRACKS: January 2014

Whoa, wait a minute here! How can there already by an ACE TRACKS playlist for January when we’re barely a week into the month? The answer, to the surprise of no one, is that this is the January playlist from last year. Ah, I remember that time so fondly, spending nearly two days straight of finally giving this blog actual sound clips and links via Amazon. Boy, if only I had a different audio service available to me at the time that would have made that process so much easier. If only…



Full track list here.

MISSING ALBUMS:
Doc Scott - Lost In Drum N’ Bass
The Orb - Live 93
DJ Aaron Carter - Lit Up

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 26%
Percentage of Rock: 4%
Most “WTF?” Track: Archie Bleyer - Hernando’s Hideaway (get your tango on, mate)

This was quite an eclectic month, as far as musical genres are concerned. Beyond the highly recognizable electronic names like Leftfield, Ladytron, Infected Mushroom, and FSOL, there’s obscure acid techno, reggae, world music, and grimey UK bass. Also, live albums, so expect to hear more cheering crowds than a KLF record. Surprisingly, the end result isn’t as convoluted or forced as other 'kitchen sink' playlists I’ve done. I won’t deny a couple clunky transitions, though (sorry, Rae’).

The total runtime is about 10 hours here, but that’s because I gave three whole albums Ace Track status that month: Asura’s Life², Bob Marely’s Legend, and GZA’s Liquid Swords. Instead of clumsily worming these LPs’ individual tracks throughout, I’ve lumped each one at the very end of the playlist. It makes better sense having albums that are great straight through represented as such anyway.

Märtini Brös. - Pläy.

Turbo Recordings: 2002

I thought I had Märtini Brös. all figured out. Responsible for a quirky novelty synth-pop hit at the height of electroclash’s popularity, signed to an LP deal on Tiga’s Turbo Recordings print based on the strength of that single (especially so the Black Strobe Remix), then off to the realms of Nowheresville once tastes and music trends abruptly shifted during the ongoing ‘00s. With absolute certainty in my assumption, I popped over to Lord Discogs to confirm my notions, only to have serious knowledge smacked in my smug face. This album Pläy. barely scratches the surface of what the German duo of Clemens Kahlcke and Michael Pagliosa have been up to in their career, with releases before and well after that breakout. Damn, the Lord does provide all, sometimes even more than you bargained for!

Turns out Märtini Brös.' primary home is Poker Flat Recordings (Steve Bug’s label, though more commonly known as ‘They Whom Released Trentemøller’s The Last Resort'), and had been putting out records with them since its inception. Not that it's a huge surprise, many of their early singles sitting comfortable with the deeper side of tech-house, the sort fussy Germans often adore (yes, even fifteen years whence). You couldn't escape glam-pop's re-emergence though, and Märtini Brös. got themselves in on that action whether you liked their older productions or not. Look, what else could they do to lift their career out of obscurity and into the fab' lights - make trance records?

While I won't deny it was presumptuous in thinking Märtini Brös. were a one-and-done album story, there was some logic behind my reasoning other than never coming across another significant hit of theirs post Biggest Fan. For a debut LP, Pläy. feels as though Kahlcke and Pagliosa were unsure whether this was their only shot, cramming in various styles of music without much consideration for album flow - it's like they wanted to show off all their inspirations while they had the chance. Thus, you have the requisite minimalist synth-pop electro-glam in tracks like Electric Monk, Dance Like It Is O.K., and Flash, but alongside those are starry-eyed psychedelic UK folktronica (!?) with Ultrastar, Happiness, and Flowers Of July. Mashed among those are quirky micro tech-house numbers like Boy/Girl, L.O.V.E. (A Really Strong Emotion), and Hot, and little in between linking these styles into a cohesive LP narrative (the cinematic French-pop chill-out track Audiopark 2002 notwithstanding). Märtini Brös. are by no means slouches in any of these genres, but they'd be better served as explorations of those sounds within full-lengths to themselves, not mish-mashed together as they are on Pläy.

This lends itself to a frustrating listen, few tracks standing out beyond whatever merit they contain. The Biggest Fan is already a catchy, camp number – imagine how great it’d sound with strong context surrounding it! Oh wait, I already know that answer. It’s on Tiga’s DJ-Kicks mix. Yeah all these tunes are better served like that than on Pläy., methinks.