Valanx - Tidelands

Reverse Alignment: 2018

Before I get into this album, a tip of the hat (toast of the beer; solute of the scapula) to Reverse Alignment, as the label has retired. I do this because they were my first tentative forays into the wider world of dark ambient, away from the comforting womb of Cryo Chamber. While it was familiar names like Dronny Darko and SiJ that lured me there, discovering further works from names like Ajna and B°TONG clued me into how much more this genre had to offer. I likely would have discovered other labels regardless, but props to Reverse Alignment for being there when the time was right.

Valanx is Arne Weinberg, a German who spent much of the '00s in the world of techno. Not that fussy, stuffy minimal stuff, but true-blue Detroit-nodding robot music, at a time when doing so wasn't as fashionable. As the decade turned, he moved on from that to start exploring other musical avenues, including a venture into Echocord dub techno as Onmutu Mechanicks (because of course). Valanx appears to have been the most fruitful of these projects though, first appearing with Xenolith in 2012 on diametric., followed by a number of albums and EPs in the following half-decade. Tidelands was released with it being a capper to the Valanx project, and perhaps his musical career for the time being as well, his Discoggian info ending after the album's release. Just like Reverse Alignment!

Unlike some nebulously conceptual dark ambient albums, Tidelands is crystal-clear about its theme: exploration of a waterworld. Only this isn't some adventurous romp in search of dryland while fending off diesel pirates led by a one-eyed Dennis Hopper. No, this is a world devoid of any hope for humanity, the oceans reclaiming the planet for itself, suffocating all land life, to say nothing of wiping out their achievements. Track titles like Drowned, Neverending Waves & Currents, and God Of The Maelstrom paint a remarkably bleak picture indeed.

Oddly, the actual music within, such as it is, doesn't sound terribly aquatic. This is mostly a drone album, with heavy emphasis on minimalist soundscape, but much of Arne's production features distant echoes and reverb on background effects, lending the tracks to a more cavernous aesthetic. If I had no track titles or concept info, I'd swear Tidelands was about spelunking, or maybe journeying to the centre of the Earth. Where you find ancient ruins.

So this is a fairly droning, bleak album, though a couple 'bright' spots do emerge. Neverending Waves & Currents features something of a meditative monk chant as part of its drone cycle. In The Deep, Where He Reigns Almighty is almost blissful and serene in its shimmering dronescape. And finally, the final titular track is surprisingly uplifting, finding a dry respite from the oceanic desolation. Haha, just kidding, this is the creepiest piece on the album, as though venturing into completely alien territory for the first time. Must have been what it felt like for the first air breathers.

ACE TRACKS: October-November 2020

So I made a Topster.

And you may be wondering, what even is a Topster? Just a simple little chart app that lets you put images of music albums however you want. Most have been doing it to make Favourite Albums collages, which I figured, “When in Rome...” Only, I have no idea what my favourite albums are. For sure there's one's I like quite a bit, but I've never thought about ranking them or paring things down to a Top 40 (or 100, or 1000). There's just so much in my collection, it'd take some serious study to figure it out, and I don't care to rank my albums that much.

Fortunately, there's a handy little place that tracks which albums you listen to the most often, and while not the most accurate of apps, should be representative of what my favourites are. So off to the Last.dot.fm I went, scoped out which were my top scrobbled albums, and selected just the top from each artist that came up (there'd be quite the bunching of FSOL otherwise). The result... wasn't what I expected.

Oh, absolutely many of these albums are favourites, but I can't say they're my absolute favourites from each artist. I'd put Big Men Cry over Maya any day, or Demon Days over Plastic Beach, or Dead Cities over Environments 2, or U.F.Orb over The Dream. Plus, I'm missing whole genres here (house, techno, d'n'b, rap, almost all of rock), which is just ridiculous. What gives?

Methinks this scrobble information is so skewed because this is a lot of stuff that I tend to play at home, on the downswing, sometimes when I'm ready to nod off. I generally don't get scrobble information for music blasting on my main stereo or MP3s on the go. Others likely got high scrobble info because they have so many tracks to scrobble from (I see you, Pete Namlook tribute box-set; you too, Neil Young box-set).

Still, I feel like this is an app that could be toyed around with some more, given the time to do so. Stay tuned for future Topster pics! For now, here's the ACE TRACKS for the past two months of reviews. Seems like enough to make a decent playlist out of now.


Full track list here.


MISSING ALBUMS:
Autumn Of Communion - Reservoir Of Video Souls
Various - Recycle Or Die (Electronic Mind Music)
Skanfrom - Postcards
Vector Lovers - Pale Blue Star EP

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 0%
Percentage Of Rock: 0%
Most “WTF?” Track: Nope, can't think of one. Even the dark ambient stuff is comparatively tame.

Aw man, I go and say downtempo, ambient, IDM-chill stuff really isn't my only port of call, and here's a playlist that's filled with it! At least there's a little more variety in here though, what with Technical Itch, UNKLE, and, um, Fictivision. Wow, relying on eurotrance to break up monotony. Strange days forever more.

Atomine Elektrine - The Second Moon

Old Europa Cafe: 2016

No doubt about this one. Browsing through Peter Andersson's Bandcamp, spotting cover art of celestial objects, and I'm on it like a wook with white powder. Just the concept alone gets my astro-dork endorphins going. Think about it, a whole other moon orbiting Earth, one that has somehow gone undetected in all of mankind's star gazing. Or even better, an Elseworlds concept, where there's always been a second moon, one woven into the very fabric of our culture since cultures began. We've set so much of our society around the regular rotations of Luna, could you imagine what else might be added to that with a little sister of sorts? The possibilities are mind-boggling!

Even ignoring the cultural implications though, the astronomical ones alone are fascinating. Where would such a moon feasibly be? How would its gravitational pull affect Luna and Earth? How large would such a body have to be to even sustain an orbit without other astrophysics interfering with it? There have been transient bodies that have, for a time, shared Earth's orbit, and even briefly come under its gravitational pull, but most of the time is kicked back out into the cosmos by that jealous hanger-on Luna, forever dominating our skies for attention.

I find it interesting that Mr. Andersson chose an image of Charon for a stand-in of Moon Two. This image was extremely new when he released this album, the New Horizons probe having done its Pluto flyby barely a year prior. And while the make-up and orbital mechanics are quite different between the Pluto and Earth systems, there is some similarity, in that they're both examples of a double-planet system. True, the Pluto-Charon relationship is more a true double (dwarf) planet example, each always showing the same face, their the barycenter outside either body, whereas that's not the case with Earth and Luna. Still, it's the only shared example within our solar system of a proportionally large moon orbiting another body.

Oh dear, have I ever gone way off topic here.

As mentioned before, Atomine Elektrine was the alias Peter used when exploring music outside the confines of dark ambient's domain. That initially meant skewing closer to techno, but when he relaunched the project with the Nebulous album, it's become more about space ambient and dronescapes ever since. Unsurprisingly, this has led to his music inching ever closer to Berlin-School, because the never-ending fascination with Tangerine Dream's early works is forever etched into space ambient's DNA.

The Second Moon definitely has that vibe, lengthy pieces built around pulsating synth melodies. For sure opener Sepharial's Lilith harkens more to the darker drone of raison d'être, but beyond that, it's spaced-out sounds with slowly evolving arps. By the time we're at final track Green Crescent (or even bonus Bandcamp track 2006 RH120), it's upper astral all the way, gazing back at the pretty pair of Earth and Luna from the surface of an ignored, forgotten sibling's surface. Always lonesome, the second child.

Raison D'être - Prospectus I (Redux)

Cold Meat Industry/Old Europa Cafe: 1993/2013

Here I am again with Peter Andersson, scoping out his main alias, raison d'être. I won't deny my first couple forays into his body of work were incidental, drawn in by cover art rather than recognition from 'dark ambient producers you MUST hear before you die cold and alone!' lists. This one though, I learned was a Very Important one in the raison d'être canon, being his first wide-release and all. For sure he had a couple tape albums in prior years, but with Prospectus I, Peter made his leap to a major label (well, major within dark ambient circles), getting a spiffy CD roll-out in the process. When Cold Meat Industry folded, the album got a redux double-LP re-issue on Old Europa Cafe, and even more recently, got the vinyl treatment with Cyclic Law. Gosh, Within The Depths Of Silence And Phormations didn't get that, so Prospectus I must be Very Important indeed, genre defining even.

I honestly don't know about that, but then dark ambient was still in its infant stage way back in 1993, finally emerging out of its original industrial influences into something truly its own. Indeed, those aforementioned early tapes as raison d'être were filled with all sorts of sound experiments and clanking noises more befitting of the power electronics scene. With Prospectus I, however, such sonic sadism is generally reduced and shuffled to the background, a heavier emphasis on such daft concepts like melodies and harmonies. In dark ambient? Why I never!

Okay, you could find such things in this music in the past, generally whenever it drew influences from the goth and ethereal scene rather than the industrial one. I guess you could say raison d'être is doing the same here, if you consider cathedral music within the same lane. Chants, church bells, choirs, all the things that have you throwing yourself into a religious frenzy. However, a lot of it sounds quite under-produced, especially some of the choices in kettledrums and choir samples, not much better than what you'd hear out of Super Nintendo. Again, I'm willing to overlook it based on the era in which it was made, but Prospectus I really does show its age, and no amount of remastered vinyl production can hide that.

The second CD in this Redux version includes a bunch of material from assorted compilations, plus the Lost Fragments demos album that was released nearly a decade after Prospectus I. I honestly find some of this stuff more interesting than the album-proper material, though more on an academic level than any sort of real enjoyment. There's only so much tinny, ominous church vibes I can take before it grows repetitive to my ears (d'at Decay I, tho'!).

Well bully for me, because the Bandcamp purchase I made for this release included even more tracks, basically a third CD's worth of unreleased early versions and alternates! Oh boy, I can't wait to hear more variations of Carnificaina, Dissection, Synopsis, and In Extremis! Prospectus I, for eternity!

Dead Melodies - Primal Destination

Cryo Chamber: 2019

It's funny how circumstance can affect one's engagement with the music they consume. For sure we want suitable soundtracks to the events of our lives: rockin', high energy stuff for heading out on the town; chill, unobtrusive sounds for downtimes; smooth grooves for sexy shenanigans. When some feel glum and gloom, there's nothing like a little dark ambient to placate the mood. And four years ago, I was feelin' that dark ambient vibe indeed. Yeah, I'd been intrigued by the genre for a couple years prior, but after that happened... hoo boy. Possibly some of my most inspired prose was written during that period, regarding this particular style of music.

Yet things kinda' seem just a bit... better now? Not as good as they could or should be, oh no. Just... better. Makes me wonder whether dark ambient all-oppressive mood will be as relatable anymore, or will return to the 'conceptual escapism' status I previous held it as.

I haven't kept much tab on Dead Melodies since I last reviewed the project, but Tom Moore does remain active, especially in the year 2020. He's even gone a little noir with Zenjungle in Anthropocene, which I may pick up down the line, but for now, we're in high-concept territory in this album, Primal Destination.

In fact, we're getting in on a little sci-fi action here, if the miniscule spaceman in the cover art wasn't enough of an indication. I suppose the astrophysics patterns and and ancient stargate is a handy clue too. Or is this an inter-dimensional portal? This cover has me thinking space, but many of the track titles don't really suggest as such: Superdrone Descent, Pearlescent Dawn, Subterraformed, Glades. Gosh, now that I look at the figure on the cover harder, I wonder if that's even a spacesuit. Looks more like radiation garb, the sort of thing one might wear when traversing volcanic regions. No, don't go in there! Who knows what horrors you'll find! Dammit, why don't they listen when I'm screaming at them from my meatspace?

Primal Destination starts out relatively calm and tranquil in that cinematic drone sort of way, the first couple tracks lulling you into a sense of serenity. Third piece Pearlescent Dawn comes off more ominous though, as though your environment is growing more askew the further you travel. And while Glades may initially conjure images dewy, rolling hills of grass, there's nothing peaceful about Mr. Moore's use of field recordings here, the sort of sounds that will have you jumping at shadows from the periphery of your sight (damn you, Xtro!).

From there, it's the steady descent into, well, primal thoughts and instincts, your reptile brain getting all itchy and twitchy from the sounds Dead Melodies utilizes. Save some orchestral manipulations in Fields Of Sleep, it's not until final track The Wake Of Man does something resembling calm and rationality enter back into the discourse. Ah, the steadying breath of the wise man's brain in action.

Sphäre Sechs - Particle Void

Cryo Chamber: 2018

Seems I'm once again on a little space theme run with the current clutch of reviews, which wouldn't be complete without the good ol' dark ambient contingent cropping up for their say. You can't talk space music without bringing up the potential bleakness of it all. Yeah, it's nice to be awestruck by nebulae beauty and mesmerized by astrophysics ballet, but there's a whole lot of nothing out there too. Empty, soul-crushing desolation, wondrous worlds impossibly far and distant, such that there's no hope of ever seeing them up close and personal. Never mind even attempting to get there would involve navigating among molecule-shredding radiation and Cthulhu knows what in the form of exotica erupting from mega death black holes. No hope, no hope at all.

Sphäre Sechs is the work of two chaps, Martin Stürtzer and Christian Stritzel (sounds like a German comedy duo). Martin has been quite active in dark ambient circles for a decade and a half now, primarily releasing material under the alias of Phelios. Much of it is of the droning sort, with occasional modern classical flourishes here and there, of various themes and ideas explored. More recently he's been releasing material under his own name under his own Echo Elberfeld label. Ooh, I spy something called The Omarion Nebula (only DS9 dorks will get that).

Mr. Stritzel has far less Discoggian presence, only appearing in collaboration with Mr. Stürtzer, a modified Theremin his primary 'instrument' in the group. The duo goes as far back as 2007's Klang Ist Ewig, but half a decade later, they adopted the Sphäre Sechs project handle, releasing Tiefschlaf on Malignant Records. Fast forward a little later, and they've brought their cosmic soundscapes to Cryo Chamber, debuting on the label with this here Particle Void. Tale as old as time.

As an album, Particle Void is straight-forward enough. Eight tracks, most hovering in the five-to-six minute range, offering varying tones of drone while holding a general mood of cosmic emptiness. While a low thrum is maintained throughout each piece, droning sounds and pads ebb and flow as though in a trance-inducing meditative breath. Sometimes there's a sense of awe in the surroundings, as in Multiverse and Transference. Other times abject fear, as though bearing witness to it all is simply too much for the human brain to handle (Temporal Transition, Achernar). And gosh, is that a touch of the melancholy I hear in Cepheid? Sadness at forever being trapped in our corporeal forms, unable to traverse into theoretical inter-dimensional portals without our atoms getting speghettified across the cosmos? Or maybe that's what's going on in final track Radiation Phase, a slowly building drone piece that includes the subtlest of rhythmic pulses.

By the way, where's the Theremin? I don't hear anything on this album that reminds me of pulpy sci-fi of the '50s. Is Christian's manipulations of the quirky electronic instrument so extreme that it sound alien to that which we know? Seems about right for an album like this.

ACE TRACKS: August 2020

Well that was certainly a more productive month on my part. In fact, that was one of my most active Augusts ever, though the lack of a Shambhala Music Festival at the start certainly played a factor in that. What gives? Tapping into a fresh well of inspiration? Stress and distraction contained to a minimum after a bout of shingles made me rethink how I was doing this life thing? Going for a biodynamic craniosacral treatment clearing up a lot more of the clutter in my headspace than I could have possibly thought? Probably a little of everything, though Blogger's forced 'upgrade' also kinda' got me hype for this hobby again. Ooh, I can see all the cover art now!

Yet I can't help but still feel like it's not enough. True, it's been nineteen months since I had a thirty-day period more productive than this past August, but I still remember the days when I'd crank out well over twenty a month. Will I ever reach those highs again? Should I even be concerning myself with that? It almost feels like a triumph to have gotten back to double-digits at this point, and who knows if that momentum can be maintained. Having a lot of... 'interesting' music coming down the line certainly helps. Like, just gander at how much interesting music I got through this past month, and believe me, we've yet to scratch the surface of where my muse has been wandering this past year. Still, enjoy this appetizer of ACE TRACKS for the month of August.

 

Full track list here.

MISSING ALBUMS:
Distant System - Infinite Continuum
Part-Sub-Merged - Four Forests
Moljebka Pvlse - Discourse On Lightness

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 0%
Percentage Of Rock: 14%
Most “WTF?” Track: The Viking metal. Even if you dig it, it's undeniably tonal whiplash in this playlist.

So a lot of Lars Leonhard on here, in case you hadn't heard enough from him yet. Really stress-testing that 'each album is distinct' theory now, though I did mostly remember which tracks came from which LPs as this played out.

And not much else to comment on. This playlist has a little of everything from the usual genres I typically enjoy, with side-glances to some more niche corners. Surprising lack of house music though. What, do I not have any more Hed Kandi CDs left? Maybe it's time for another used store ru- oh, right. Yeah...

Ugasanie - Ice Breath Of Antarctica

Cryo Chamber: 2018

I won't deny having some favouritism towards icy-cool looking cover art, but it's generally spread out among my other albums so it doesn't become a running theme. This is the third album out of the last four to go wintry though, enough that I'm sure some folks are wondering if something more than biased interest is going on. Heck, it could have been the fourth, but I held off on grabbing Ensiferum's From Afar – have enough Viking metal for now, thanks.

It wouldn't be so bad if we were going through a typical summer, with the heat and the drought and the forest fires and all. Some parts of North America are getting that as usual, yeah, but not in my neck of the rain forests. It's been comically dark and grey these past couple months, some of the wettest on record, with humidity you can practically swim in. Not that I want a return to the years of beige lawns and a constant layer of acrid haze in the air, but nor this far extreme the other way. Just enough that listening to a whole pile of CDs with frozen landscapes as the cover art is a soothing escape, not a reminder of miserable weather.

Actually, even in those ideal conditions, I'd hardly call Ice Breath Of Antarctica a 'soothing escape'. In traditional Ugasanie manner, we're taken to a realm of utter desolation, where no sane human being should wish to tread. In theory at least, but the south polar region has its share of tourists eagre to see penguins and southern elephant seals and... um, other fauna local to the ice caps while they last. Only during the summer months though. And preferably when there's ideal weather. While in the company of others, so as not to get lost roaming about. Pretty much the exact opposite of the conditions Ugasanie presents to us in this album, is what I'm getting at.

While Pavel has been Cryo Chamber's go-to guy for all things frozen over, his albums still typically have specific themes in mind. Explorations of abandoned Siberian science stations, the mental state of being overcome by the northern lights, and so on. No such 'journey' happens in Ice Breath Of Antarctica, unless you count being consumed in the absolute worst conditions you could possibly endure while venturing there. Second track Shores Of Antarctica is basically five minutes of bellowing winds whipping your face with freezing sleet before settling into the sort of empty, minimalist drone that's long been this label's breaded butter. You are alone in desolation, absolutely alone. Not even a stray penguin in sight.

The whole album basically plays out like that, unrelenting in consuming you within the polar continent's harsh climate. Some tracks feature sounds of being emersed within slow-moving ice, others offer a brief respite with quiet, reflective harmonies carried along the wind. Almost as if Ugasanie is asking, “well, what did you expect of the lands even The Thing couldn't survive in?”

Moljebka Pvlse - Discourse On Lightness

Reverse Alignment: 2017

I'd forgotten how intimidating it was venturing away from the comforting warm embrace of Cryo Chamber for my dark ambient and drone fix. So many artists out there, with distinct traits and approaches, all with strange exotic artwork. It's been a spell since I last took in a release from Reverse Alignment, and for good reason. I'd more or less tapped out all the names I was already familiar with (Ajna, Dronny Dark, SiJ) and had mostly sprung for all the albums with artwork that caught my eye (your Graders, The Long Journeys, and Buried On Vanths). Beyond that would be completely uncharted territory for yours truly, no easing in.

So headfirst into Discourse On Lightness I dove, for no other reason than it was catalogued nearby other albums I'd picked up from Reverse Alignment. And as is so often the case, I plucked out an artist with a fairly common story when it comes to these experimental drone sorts. Moljibeka Pvlse started releasing material in the early 2000's, floated about many labels (Cold Meat Industry, Fifth Week Records, AudioTONG, Gears Of Sand, Some Place Else) while maintaining his own label on the side (Isoramara). He eventually landed on Reverse Alignment, debuting there with A Transformation. Wait, that's not right. He actually appeared there a tad sooner, as the man behind Moljibeka Pvlse is Mathias Josefson, who was also part of Skare (of Grader fame). Huh, so I didn't go into this so utterly blind as I first thought.

Discourse On Lightness is Moljibeka Pvlse's second album on this label, with a yin-yang approach to the offered compositions. Three pieces are featured, each hovering around the twenty-minute mark (on the relative short side of things, where Josefson drone pieces are concerned). From the outset of A History Of Levitation, you're hit was one of those multi-layered, atonal, wall-of-sound drones that doesn't feel calm or relaxing in the slightest. I'd almost call it confrontational, but there's something strangely subtle about it too, like an undercurrent of melody that lulls you in for the duration. Supposedly, this is the 'yin' portion of the album.

Makes sense, as follow-up Between Lightness And Luminance is all about that stripped-down, minimalist, avante-garde symphonic sound. Sparse discordant strings, echoing field recordings and hushed vocal noises in empty chambers, creating a rather tense atmosphere as it plays out. The third track, A Field Guide To The Sunrise bridges the gap (completes the circle? fills the symbol?) between the two, mostly minimalist as well, morphing through creepier strings, bells and tones, but eventually transitioning into a rather tranquil, soothing stretch of ambience as the piece slowly winds down. Why yes, the 'sunrise' theme is quite apt.

So an interesting outing, this. Can't say I was a fan of the first two pieces, but the third does help put them in clearer context when taking in the album as a whole. As for how it relates to all the old-timey art within the inlay, I haven't a clue.

Technical Itch - Digitally Ascended Vol. 3

Tech Itch Recordings: 2017

Technical Itch was clearly content sticking to the singles market, so I gave up hope on ever hearing another long-player from the man, Diagnostics a once in a blue moon event. Much time passes, and I feel a tingling sensation in the back of my head, like a sentient nerve poking me with the question, “I wonder if Mark Caro has anything on Bandcamp?” And holy cow, does he ever, not only releasing tons of fresh material via his own label this past decade, but bringing in new artists that share his classic darkstep aesthetic. With actual physical media too, including CDs! Hot damn, I gotta' get me in on some of that action, but it seems the only hard-copy item currently available from Technical Itch himself is this Digitally Ascended Vol. 3. Whatever, it's gotta' be dope, the man incapable of wrong after such a storied career!

And... he's taken a stab at trap. *sigh*... When will I learn?

Personal petty petulance aside, I'm not tut-tutting Technical Itch here. Doing a modicum of research would have clued me into the fact that this Digitally Ascended series was started way back in 2009 as a means for Mr. Caro to explore that trendy dubstep thing going on, and carried on with other stabs at the slower, grittier side of bass music; for the d'n'b purists, he had the Progression Threat series. Some time in the mid-'10s, he started rolling Tech Itch Digital material into the parent label Tech Itch Recordings, finally offering hard copy options for stubborn holdouts (*cough*). Digitally Ascended Vol. 3 was the first of his own releases to come out during this phase, hence why it was the first Tech Itch item I saw available as CD. There's promise of more to come though, oh yes.

And you may be thinking, what's the big deal about Tech Itch branching out? Nothing at all, but this is one of those cases where his top-notch production doesn't fit the sound he's trying. Trap is all about stripping things down to bare essentials, the most rudimentary drum sounds available from your 808 emulator. In Mr. Caro's hands though, with his menacing widescreen atmospherics, these drum tracks end up sounding like demos or, at best, something from the halcyon days of audio bass sub-whoofer stress testers. The dubstep tracks are only marginally better, in that they aren't far removed from what the genre did sound like in its infancy.

Fortunately, Digitally Ascended Vol 3 offers surprisingly more variety than the early portions of the album suggested. There's a couple dark ambient tracks here (August Ends, Separka), for all your psychological thriller needs. Elsewhere, Rememberance edges as close to tech-step as this series would probably allow, while the final two cuts (Strangest Form Of Magic, Touched By The Gods) have more a trip-hop vibe going for them. Good stuff, just a shame the comparatively under-produced first half of the album sours a full listening experience for me.

ACE TRACKS: March-July 2020

So I have shingles.

At least it's not COVID-19, right? And I don't feel sick, just frequent hot spikes of pain around my shoulder-blade (imagine a heated cactus ball rolling about) as my latent chicken-pox virus does its damage to all those tender nerve membranes. And you may be thinking, “wait, Sykonee can't be that old such that he'd get shingles?”, and you'd be right. Yet here we are. I already knew all the stress I've put upon myself this year wasn't doing me many favours, but the fact it suppressed my immune system enough such that the ol' varicella-zoster could act up again should have me rethinking the way I'm doing things.

And what's 'funny' about all this is, until it flared up, I thought I was doing fine, life-wise. Yeah, there were still things and stuffs lingering in the back of my mind, but I still had a good groove about doing it. I can only hope my stubbornness hasn't done permanent damage because dear God, this would suck to have to deal with for the rest of my life. Or get myself in on that all-encompassing opiod market America is known for.

That all said, I realized it's been five months since I last did an ACE TRACKS playlist. Figured after all that time, I'd amassed enough of a backlog to make one. Little did I realize the final list would be over 10 hours long! Gander, at the ACE TRACKS from March through July:


Full track list here.


MISSING ALBUMS:
Various - Bedrock: Jimmy Van M
Various - Better Living Through Circuitry
Various - Beyond The Machines
Cryostasis - Between Static And Distance
Coma Eye - Insufflated Brine Shrimp
Astral Engineering - Chronoglide

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 3%
Percentage Of Rock: 19%
Most “WTF?” Track: Neo-Adventures - Whaaaauuu (because “whaaaaaauuuuu TF?”)

Okay, so I cheated a little in the length, in that I included the entirety of L.S.G.'s The Singles: Reworked at the end. Plus some of the all-time longest recorded pieces of music by both Banco de Gaia and Creedence Clearwater Revival ever committed to master tapes (ten minutes of CCR may as well be a prog-rock opus).

Even with those caveats though, the fact this playlist ended up as long as it did just goes to show I've been busier than I gave myself credit for. And diverse too, a little something for anyone's interest making its way into here, providing a surprisingly smooth listening experience compared to many playlists past. Of course, if no one wants to listen to it, because it'll remind you of *gestures wildly*, I wouldn't blame ya'. Heck, maybe it's why I put off on doing this for so long in the first place. It's been a Hell of a five months, it has.

Oh, and some may have noticed I've skipped ahead on my reviewing order. The 'B' section of my collection is too big for one sitting, so decided to split that up while dealing with a pile of other items I've had gathering in that time. Will probably resume with the 'B's in, oh, a year, at my current rate

Atrium Carceri - Codex

Cryo Chamber: 2018

It's been a while since we returned to the on-going story Simon Heath is telling with his Atrium Carceri project. Maybe not as long as the Sabled Sun side-project, but that one did have a sense of finality to it with 2148. Heck, I'd argue it could have ended perfectly with the debut 2145, but that's neither here nor there. What's fascinating about A.C., however, is the fact Codex marks only the third mainline album under that banner since Mr. Heath set up Cryo Chamber. Plenty of collaborative works and joint concept works, absolutely, but to this point, only The Untold, Metropolis, and Codex have been solo works on the label. Does this mean the collaborative ones tie into the mainline narrative at all? Miles To Midnight sure doesn't seem to.

Thus these solo Atrium Carceri works are treated with a fair bit of awe and anticipation, exciting new chapters in whatever ongoing narrative there actually is between the three albums. Simon spared no expense in celebrating the third in the current-trilogy (two years later, still no fourth album), giving Codex the same lavish hardcover casing and picturesque booklet as some of those Cryo Chamber Collaboration releases. It's only appropriate to go whole hog on the package considering this is the label's one-hundredth release.

And we pick up right where we left off in The Void, that vintage all-encompassing cinematic dark ambient stylee Atrium Carceri built an empire upon. The mood is sombre, the atmosphere suffocating, the organs dominating, and your headspace transported to whatever bleak, uncompromising fallen society Mr. Heath has envisioned for us. A couple examples of choking drone follow, then Codex takes a surprising turn for the ...calm and blissful? Wait, what?

True, we've heard sombre piano pieces from Simon before, typically as contrast to whatever menace lurks in the surrounding tracks, but A Memory Lost remains shockingly lovely considering the lead-up. It's followed upon by The Empty Chapel however, with choir and ethereal pads that is almost angelic in presentation. Fits the theme of the track, I suppose, but can't say I've ever heard anything quite so pure ambient as this from this label (I've missed a fair bit in recent years, mind).

We go back to the foreboding cinematic drone after this, Mr. Heath taking us on another journey through old world domains, but its not so harrowing as works past. It's as though he wants us to be more in awe and worshipful of what we imagine than come away intimidated. But before you know it, Codex is wrapping up, another little piano piece in A Hunger Too Deep followed upon by a suitable denouement to the journey in The Citadel.

Gosh, that was rather a brisk listening experience. Felt like things were still warming up before coming to an end. Considering the anticipation, roll-out, and subsequent elapsed time since, I can't help but feel a tad let down by Codex's relative briefness. This dark ambient hunger don't sate itself.

ProtoU & Hilyard - Alpine Respire

Cryo Chamber: 2017

Uh oh, another Cryo Chamber album already? Does this mean that CD bundle I bought is gonna' be stupidly front-loaded in the next round of reviews? Heh, no, 'tis but a coincidence of alphabetical sorting. It shall be a long while before I return to this label, but hey, feels like I'm making up for lost time, having gone so many months without an obligatory look-in to what was shaking with Simon Heath's print.

Of all the items I grabbed in my recent splurge, this may be the oldest of the lot. In fact, Alpine Respire could have been included in my prior Cryo bundle, but that ten CD limit had to cap out somewhere. Albums from God Body Disconnect and Flowers For Bodysnatchers were of higher priority to me at the time, but when I came back to the Chamber for more dronescapes, this was gonna' be top of the pile, by g'ar. Can never get enough of those ashen vistas of cascade mountains at dusk. With molten lava rivers seeping out their sides like open, bloody wounds. Look, we have real volcanoes 'round these here parts, it's not impossible!

Sasha Cats (ProtoU) hasn't been too busy since we last glanced at her output here, a couple albums worth of material materializing in that time. She also officially paired up with partner Dronny Darko as Hivetribe, whom released a collaborative album with Purl (yes, that Purl), and ...two psy-trance albums? No, that's gotta' be a different Hivetribe. Crazy coincidence in the timing of releases though. As for the other half of this album's particular pairing, Bryan Hilyard is another relative dronescape scene floater, self-releasing some items while finding a home on Stereoscenic for others. As being on a label with that sort of name, his is the widescreen variety of dense ambient drone, with occasional field recordings treatments, and not so dark as the Cryo Chamber brand goes. Yet he not only found his way there in this pairing with ProtoU, but even released a solo album on the print this past year too. Ooh, that one's got galaxies on the cover. Will likely nab that, whenever I go on another Cryo splurge.

Alpine Respire is about as typical of the Chamber's output as you'd expect given the cover art. There's a loose theme built around traversing an inhospitable clime', taking in the field recordings scenery as moody tones blanket you in chilly atmosphere. There's the requisite suffocating gloom of tracks like Blood Grass Soujourn and Elwha Snowfinger, but other pieces (Cave Lights On The Bay Of Bengal, Final Refugium) provide something of a tranquil respite from the harsh elements beating down on you. Seems no matter how menacing or melancholic the music, throwing in the sounds of crashing surf never fails to bring about as sense of ease. Man, no wonder so little dark ambient sets itself along beach fronts. You'd think shores with tall cliffs and jagged rocks could harbour some sort of sonic malice.

Alphaxone & Xerxes The Dark - Aftermath

Cryo Chamber: 2018

Been a while since I last indulged in the Cryo Chamber catalogue, what with me exploring other dark ambient labels for a spell. Back to the familiar, trusty ol' print of cinematic drone I must go though (yo'), with another CD bundle splurge I can never resist (can't have enough 'cryo chamber' beer can sleeves!). Still a lot of familiar names making the rounds here, but quite few new faces too. Mount Shrine, Ruptured World, Dahlia's Tear, Ager Sonus, In Quantum. Y'know, cheerful aliases! I've also noticed Cryo Chamber's cover art has grown a bit more... colourful? Okay, maybe that's too strong a word, everything still retaining that distinct, muted saturation. Still, I see whites and reds and blues and various scales of grey too. Why, In Quantum's Memory 417 could almost be synthwave cover! A very dark, depressing collection of synthwave, but that seven-segment display for the album's font screams '80s (thanks, The Police's Ghost In The Machine).

There's nothing like settling on the familiar though, and what better way to get reacquainted than with an old standby of Cryo Chamber, Alphaxone. When last I covered him, Mr. Saleh had been pairing up with the dark ambient power couple of Dronny Darko and ProtoU for a pair of albums that were conceptually quite different from each other. Naturally, I gravitated more towards the spacier of the two offerings, and so it goes again in his latest collaboration, this time with fellow Iranian Xerxes The Dark. That... doesn't strike me as the most creative of aliases Morego Dimmer could have come up with. Like, why not Xerxes The تاریک? In any event, he's floated about various dark ambient labels since the mid-'00s, but the gravitational pull of Cryo Chamber drew him within their fold for a collaborative album or three, first appearing on one of the Tomb Of... compilations.

I've taken in plenty of cosmic drone, but very little cosmic horror. The existential dread of utter nothingness is enough to send cold shivers down my neck, no need of madness-inducing unrealities mixing in. Still, Alphaxone's very good at crafting captivating soundscapes fitting of altered dimensions, so I'm in safe(?) hands with him leading the way into this domain. I'm not so sure about Xerxes though, unfamiliar with his brand of drone as I am. Can I pick out distinct attributes in Aftermath from Alphaxone's aesthetic?

Can't say I did. This still feels like an Alphaxone album, though perhaps more structured in narrative than some of his other works. As with the best of Cryo Chamber, each track serves as another chapter in whatever tale the artists look to tell, in this case, exploration of the interplanetary unknown, and what wonders or horrors may come from there. There are points where an almost benign tone settles in (ooh, shimmery piano to close out!), but yeah, this is a very minimalist excursion into cinematic dronescapes. Not that I'd want to hear inhuman field recordings in something like Aftermath.

Harold Budd - Abandoned Cities

Cantil/All Saints: 1984/2018

We're not done with the Buddster just yet. The Budd Box contains six of his albums, and I've only covered four of them now. As is clear, he's titled his works all over the alphabet, from the dizzying highs of the 'A's and 'B's, to the decrepit lows of the 'W's and 'V's. Okay, not 'V's, but it don't rhyme otherwise, and like Hell I'm gonna' betray my Canadian heritage in saying anything other than 'zed', eh.

Abandoned Cities was the follow-up to The Serpent (In Quicksilver), and couldn't be more different from that record if ol' Harold tried. In fact, this is almost nothing like anything he'd released prior. And though I've hardly taken in much of his post-'80s work, I can't imagine many pieces in his archives quite like this either. For you see, my friends, Mr. Budd took it upon himself to do something nearly all ambient musicians do: the twenty-minute long composition!

True ultra-lengthy ambient compositions were hardly a new thing by the mid-'80s. Brain Eno's 1/1, the very first ambient track was sixteen and a half minutes long, not to mention- What? Of course 1/1 was the first ambient track. How is that even a debate? It's literally the first track on the first album with the title of Ambient in it! *does a soft-shoe off to Stage Right*

Anyhow, while ambient producers and minimalist Berlin-Schoolers were all about the long-form dronescapes, Budd typically kept his pieces short and to the point, seldom breaching the double-digit domain. Not with Abandoned Cities though, a mere two tracks long, the titular cut a whopping twenty-three in total. And moody, oh my is it ever a moody piece. Like, I get that calling a composition of music Abandoned Cities creates a sense of emptiness and desolation, forlorn thoughts of what once was and is now lost. That omnipresent synth drone though, sounding like a suffocating blanket of darkness and depression, such that Budd's usual gentle piano tones have difficulty piercing the murk. Even those, so often tranquil and introspective in his other works, can't help but ooze melancholy in their surroundings. This is about as 'dark ambient' as I'm sure Budd's ever gone, though still feels more at home in the 'modern classical' domain, befitting an art gallery of derelict husks slowly eroding in vacant urban settings.

If that seems just a tad on the “Hey, you okay, bro'?” side of things, then get a load of the first track on here, Dark Star. As depressive as Abandoned Cities is, at least it still had a thread of humanity in it, Budd's piano a comforting, familiar companion. There's no such instrument in play here though, Harold's trademark gentle touches on the keys replaced with stark synth stabs, stripping out all traces of human soul in the process. Oh, what a tantalizing 'what if' this piece proposes, Harold Budd doing dark ambient for the remain of his career. Might still have worked in that Cocteau Twins collaboration too.

The Winterhouse - Winter Gardens

dataObscura: 2012

I assume my fascination with winter's clime' stems from the fact I live in a region that doesn't experience winter in the 'traditional' sense. Sure, we get snow once or thrice a season, but to be perpetually blanketed in a white layer of quieting frozen water is incredibly rare. Thus, when constantly bombarded with romantic imagery of such seasonal situations, it makes one fonder for that which we need not deal with. Maybe I need to go snow-shoeing around the local ski hills to get it out of my system.

When ambient music tackles wintery aesthetics, it's often as bleak and desolate drone. Sometimes we'll get shimmery, crystalline moments, but as brief respites of glistening beauty among the suffocating, icy gloom. It's uncommon finding albums that explore frigid environments as someplace mysterious and magical; a 'wonderland', if you may. Or there's a huge sub-sub genre-market for it out there, and I'm wandering the wrong wastelands. The artists are probably all Japanese too.

Anyhow, this is a roundabout way of me justifying my purchase of Winter Gardens from The Winterhouse. Something evocative about that cover art, y'know, luring me in into a tranquil, hibernating forest, exploring nooks and crannies sheltering small, sleeping mammals. As I say, perfect settings to indulge a little snow-shoeing, but a suitable soundtrack for such an endeavor?

The Winterhouse is a collaborative project from Anthony Kerby and Robert Davies. The former I've talked up plenty now, since diving into dataObscura meant diving into a lot of his musical output. Mr. Davies I haven't touched upon yet, though his story isn't much different from Mr. Kerby's: some two dozen albums, mostly all released on dataObscura as well, with Winterhouse being his lone outside project. So, does that make him the Solar Fields to Kerby's Aes Dana, with Winterhouse being dataObscura's H.U.V.A. Project? Doubtful, but it's a fun notion nonetheless.

While I wasn't expecting some cheery, chipper, New Age outing with Winter Gardens, I was expecting a little less of the pure drone that I've heard from dataObscura thus far. 'Tis not to be, this one just as layered and minimalist as most of the music I've heard from Kerby and co'. Which isn't such a bad thing if I'm in the mood for moody pad work and sparse melodic movements. I dunno' tho', seeing so much stark white in the cover had me thinking Winter Gardens would be a bit... brighter. Silly me, overlooking the greyscale forest from the shadowy trees.

Winter Hymn does provide a pleasant, tranquil opener, but the foreboding tones of dark ambient are quick to make their presence felt in follow-up The Depths Of Winter. The murky mood mostly permeates the rest of the album, with We Walk Through Glass offering some of those shimmering, glistening sounds I alluded to albums of this nature so often containing. Feel Winter Gardens could have used more moments like that. Isn't a garden supposed to highlight the beauty of nature, not the suppression of it?

SiJ - Vale Of Forgotten Sounds

Ancient Language Records/Reverse Alignment: 2013/2015

Why raid a label for just one SiJ album when you can get two? Probably because you've gotten all the remaining hard copies of his albums, digital version the only option left for older ones. And because you've some bizarre hate-boner against ever buying digital when physical versions exist, you skip the other albums, forever denying yourself music you know you'll enjoy irrespective of format its played from. Boy, it sure is a good thing I'm not like that! Such a person sounds a right bellend to be around. (*cough*)

Thus, in my last round of Reverse Alignment purchases, I figured it was as good as any time to round out my my collection of albums SiJ released through the label. Vale Of Forgotten Sounds was the first that did, and among the earliest of the dark ambient print's releases. So small wonder its initial, uncertain fifty copies run sold out, despite not being that far into the past. Nice of Reverse Alignment to up their limited runs to at least triple-digits worth now, thus avoiding selling out all too soon with future releases. You can never be too certain of which artists or albums may turn into must-have dark ambient classics, fetching ungodly mark-ups on the collector's market.

Vale Of Forgotten Sounds may have been SiJ's debut with Reverse Alignment, but the album actually came out a couple years prior, digitally released on Ancient Language Records. Not one to let an album languish solely in the domain of ones and zeroes, Mr. Sikach self-released a CDr option, which included a few more tracks not on the original one. Huh, a CD having more tunes than the digital version. As it should be. Anyhow, that was reason enough, out of all his prior works, for Reverse Alignment to choose this particular album for a proper CD re-issue. And now here I am resorting to the digital version of this re-issue, because the CD all sold out. Something seems askew.

As for what sort of inspiration SiJ was drawing from in creating Vale Of Forgotten Sounds, apparently these pieces were made for the 2014 Ambient Music Festival held in Sevastopol. That would why the first few tracks are of a more calming, relaxing nature for a supposed dark ambient release. Yeah, SiJ has often flitted with the melancholy side of the genre, but tracks like Serenity and Forgotten Skramell are very pleasant pieces of gentle pads and timbre – could easily fit within Databloem's catalogue. Even the more mysterious, melancholy compositions like Hysjer and Springtide don't come off so suffocating as other examples of this style go.

But then Path Through The Swamp comes in with all manner of choking, abrasive field recordings and tones, Le Temps des Cathedrales lays the oppressive tones thick, and you're abruptly reminded that, yeah, this is still a dark ambient release. Still, Vale Of Forgotten Sounds offers a nice variety of the various forms it can take, even the softer variants.

Anduin - Stolen Years

SMTG Limited: 2012

When I saw this in an online shop, I knew I had to get it sight-unheard. That cardboard border, the artful picture, the unrecognizable musician with post-rock ties... it must be a new Slaapwel Records release! Never mind the label's only released one (1) new item in the two years I first discovered them.

But nay, 'tis not an unearthed Slaapwel Records album. That there's a whopping eight tracks is proof alone, much less the fact they all average around four to six minutes in length. It is an interesting item I've stumbled upon though, and once again I have nothing but my over-eager, hunter-gatherer purchasing instinct to thank for it. Seldom have I been led astray by such impulsive actions, and it was nice of Anduin to keep the faith alive a little longer.

Not to be confused with the Matthew Dear project Audion – because I know your brain has been doing that from the moment you saw the header – Anduin is the brainchild of Jonathan Lee, a chap who's floated about various rock bands these past couple decades. Some were punk, some were post, and some were whatever eclectic ideas were flowing freely in a given jam session. This naturally led Mr. Lee to explore the instrumental, abstract side of his muse, giving rise to Anduin, a project that lasted about half a decade, seemingly mothballed since 2015. Stolen Years was the last full-length record released under the guise.

With absolutely no idea of what to expect going in, I wasn't even sure I'd ended up with a 'music' record as Behind The Voyeur's Wall Of Glass started. So quiet, so subdued, and are those sounds of children playing coming from the track, or the park across from my apartment? Also, someone get WD-40 on that squeaky door stat, why don't ya'? A moody synth tone burbles in and out, a kick that sounds like someone bouncing a basketball emerges, and a lonely saxophone jam adds a creaky blues vibe. It's all rather bleak, but in a melancholic sort of way, like reflecting on one's decrepit life from the confines of a weathered, abandoned flat.

Much of Stolen Years plays out like that: prominent looping field recordings placing you within a vivid setting (so much dirt and grit), sinewy synth pads crafting lonesome moods and tones, and collaborator Jimmy Graphery providing saxophone or flute solos adding human soul to the proceedings. Only final track Irene breaks the mould, shooting for an opulent wall-of-sound ambient outing for closure.

What I find so interesting about Stolen Years is despite the rather simple elements in play, it's extremely difficult pinpointing exactly what kind of music this is. The closest comparison I can come up with is the dark ambient jazz of Phonothek, but not so oppressive and bleak as that duo goes. Stolen Years feels much too intimate to be dark ambient, yet not so lost up its rectum to be jazz. A curious, addictive one, this.

Galati - Silence [As A Din]

Databloem: 2018

I was already curious in checking out more items from Galati after Gletscher, though not in a real hurry to do so either – almost glacial, in my efforts (eh? eh...?). Plus, having the bulk of his music released by that label which has disappeared into the internet ether made digging back into ol' Roberto's discography a trickier endeavour than before. Fortunately, after a bit of downtime, he seems to have found a new home with the label that everyone seems to have found a new home with; or provide some additional content for. Seriously, what is it about Databloem that has everyone in the modern ambient techno/dub/chill scene wandering within their walls? Just because they have a proven, classy track record that's endured for well over a decade now doesn't mean one has to release with them. Sure must feel nice though, being part of a print that won't end up dicking you around.

Making his debut with Databloem is Galati's sixth album, Silence [As A Din], and even without the recollection of his earlier works, you just know I'd have picked this up regardless. I admit, I admit, certain types of cover art are pure catnip to my eyes, and placid ice flows in a blue-scale colour is about as catnippy as these things can get. Maybe add a derelict boat on one of those icebergs. A Saturn in the sky. Yeah, that's the stuff...

For those of us just joining in on the Galati train, Roberto's approach to the art of ambient drone typically involves post-rock elements such as guitar strums and amp feedback. The result on Gletscher was that of a rather epic wall-of-sound, and you'd think for an album titled Silence, he'd scale things back some. Yes, some, in that I can pick out individual elements with greater ease, but it's no less overbearing. The opener Pt. 1 doesn't waste time in bringing the coalescing sounds to the fore, though they do retreat some such that things like rhythm and melody have breathing room. At twenty minutes long, Pt. 1 moves through many passages itself, at times almost pausing to catch its breath before erupting in another wall-of-sound excursion. If I didn't know it was indexed as a singular piece, I'd have thought it was around four or five different tracks.

Pt. 3 goes even longer at twenty-five, and has something of a modern classical feel to it with prominent harp and vocal tones. Not that they weren't apparent in Pt. 1, I can just hear them better in this composition. There's honestly quite a bit going on in Pt. 3, more than I can detail in the remaining word count I have.

So let me wrap up by mentioning Pt. 2 and Pt. 4 are comparatively shorter pure drone pieces, almost inching towards dark ambient's ethereal domain, placing Silence [As A Din] among the moodiest albums I've heard from Databloem yet. Can't fault the label for dipping their fingers into a bit of everything.

SantAAgostino - Operazione Paura

Greytone: 2010

Time to get our murk back on, dark ambient once again seeping into my life, forever reminding of the ever-beckoning end that awaits our fates. Or something. Actually, I say this is dark ambient, and you'd certainly think it's dark ambient just by the cover art, but this could be something else too. Like, maybe nosebleed gabber? They certainly enjoy their gothic Reichland imagery. Oh, you already looked at the genre tags, confirming this is dark ambient. Clever girl.

This is another album I'm assuming I got in association with B°TONG, in that both appear on the short lived (and even shorter catalogue) label Greytone. And if there's anything I can't help doing these days, it's raiding newly-discovered labels of their meagre Bandcamp merchandise. What am I, some digital colonial minor-power? Probably, though fortunately, the online world is bountiful with musical resources to plunder. Just look at the obscene amounts of materials some Discoggian super-powers have acquired over the years. It's like thousands of British Empires staking claims on Jupiter.

I can't find much information regarding SantAAgostino though. Lots of poetic descriptions of what SantAAgostino does, mind you, but little of who they are, where they come from, and all that good stuff, not even a made-up mythology. I only know it's a 'band', because the Bandcamp info implies as such. It wasn't a long-lasting one though, this only their second album of three efforts, disappearing soon after into the mists of dark ambient's netherrealms beyond the ephemeral abyss. Or something. Look, I'm just style-biting the purple prose included in that Bandcamp blurb. It's infectious, yo'.

Despite having about a quarter of Italian heritage in my blood, my use of the language remains pathetically poor. Still, even I know Operazione Paura is an operatic opus, mostly dealing with death, decay, rot, and all the occultism surrounding such things. Just gander at some of these titles: Zombi: La Città Verrà Distrutta All'Alba; Necrofilia Su Barbara Steele: L'Orribile Segreto; Terrore Nello Spazio Infinit: Culti Morbosi. Scary stuff indeed.

The music's suitably coarse and abrasive too. We're treading into the harsh domain of power electronics, my friends, where melody and timbre gives way to atonal attacks and industrial grind. The opening titular piece is as effective in setting a confrontational mood as I've ever heard. Follow-up Zombi adds crunchy hardcore beats to the foreboding sounds and noise, while Necrofilia Su Barbara Steele is relentless in its aural assault.

Just when I thought this album couldn't get more unbearable though, things suddenly take a turn for the moodier and minimal. Virus and Terrore Nellow Spazio Ininito sound like they could be score work for a cyberpunk thrillers, while L'Occhio Nel Triangolo works the ol' industrial drone. I suppose the retreat from the noise works in L'Abominevole Dott's favour though, in that it sells its discordant grand organ vibes more effectively. Quite all over the place, this album is, which is cool, if you can get past that initial assault on your headspace.