Natural Life Essence - Hidrogenesis / Hidrogenesis 2020

CYAN/Liquid Frog Records: 2014/2018

Took a little longer than usual to find an N:L:E release in the 'H' block, eh? Or not, the Headspace box-set from Urban Meditation artificially inflating how many actual albums I have this go-around. There's just not that many 'H' titled records in my music collection compared to some other letters. Heck, on my initial run eleven years ago (holy cow!), I had just twenty-eight items. That number hasn't even doubled since, and believe me when I say that's hardly the case for other letter blocks ('X' has tripled!).

So Hidrogenesis is the first Natural Life Essence record. The first on his Bandcamp, the first entry on his Discogs page, the first of all-everything. A decade old now too, which means a ten year anniversary version is nigh? Wouldn't surprise me – he did do a '2020' variant, after all – but doesn't look like he's put one out yet. There's a couple [Color] Dots, an Uncharted Land 3, a Random Environments II, a Dune II, and a... Glowing Forest 3? Dang, I didn't even get a Glowing Forest one or two when I bulk-bought his entire catalogue. Relentless, that work rate of his.

Anyway, Hidrogeneis first came out on CYAN, the label Juan Pablo had made his home before they shuttered doors in 2020. It's kind of funny going this far back into his musical development, half expecting his style to not be as fully formed as later works. For sure it's not quite as developed or daring as Bioluminescent Forest or Ecovillage (two totally random examples!), much less the albums that got him that Neotantra bump (Organic Adventures and Dune, for the record). Having so thoroughly digested at least half his catalogue now though, I'm impressed at how solid for a debut this album is.

Right from the jump, Mr. Giacovino shows his hand in fascination for all things micro-organism, titling his opener Moss and all. It's a fairly meditative piece with harmonic bell tones and field recordings, a gentle melody soon sliding in while soft dub rhythms burble in support. Like, if that isn't the N:L:E stylee in a nutshell, then what have I been listening to this past year?

Things also play out in similar fashion as most of his albums, slowly building upon earlier elements such that it feels like you're listening to one long, transitional compostition. Well, if it weren't for all the fades between tracks. Seriously, m'man, just make a 'single mix' version available too!

Maybe he realized this was an issue as well, releasing a twenty-minute, twenty-second long version of Hidrogenesis, in 2018. Well, mostly just the first four tracks in a condensed, restructured form, and sans the low, rumbly bass dubs as heard in Underwater Caravan. A nifty addition if you wanted to hear Moss, Acid Fog and Swamp uninterrupted. As for the back-half of Hidrogenesis, it's even more ambient than the first, harmonies even subtler. Ooh, this could use that 10th Anniversary rejiggering treatment, I wager.

Groove Armada - Goodbye Country (Hello Nightclub)

Jive Electro: 2001

This may technically be Groove Armada's best charting album, but I contend it remains one of their most neglected, if not outright forgotten. Granted, that mostly only applies to North America, but I tells it as I remembers it, which comes with all the localized biases. It isn't so much a case of the music being bad or anything, though the deeper, soulful tunes didn't help it stand out after the peppier breakouts from Vertigo got their name out there. No, it's almost certainly due to the fact it came out the day before 9/11, after which the whole world went into a depressive, paranoid funk. Kinda' hard to get hype to club music after that.

Tom and Andy said they wanted Goodbye Country (Hello Nightclub) to be more upbeat than their previous effort. Can't say I blame them, so quickly getting pigeon-holed into the chill-out scene when their music was getting all the licensing deals. And when Superstylin' dropped, that change of focus seemed evident, the track something of a riff on Bassment Jaxx' brand of radio-friendly speed garage (da' yoots today would call this 'ragga bassline', or something). Now that I've listened to this record, however, it almost feels like an appropriate comedown to post-Millenial malaise.

This rest of this album, it's just so de-e-e-p, man, hardly the rabble-rousing hedonism promised. Fogma, the clubbiest cut on here, certainly has some funky shuffle going for it, but there's something rather... prog, about its production too, y'know? Raisin' The Stakes opts for some street-level funk-n-hop (Nile Rogers on the guitar, Kriminul on the rap), but it ain't super-hype either. Healing is another 'brisker-than-average' cut, but it's so minimalist, dubby, and de-e-e-p, you'd be forgiven for thinking it an early Swayzak b-side. And that's it for the 'club'. Well, and the opulent funk opener Suntoucher with Jeru Tha Damaja, but even that track settles into a deep, dubby groove two-thirds in (Drifted less so, which I kinda' prefer). So, graciously, six out of twelve tracks, and I'd really only claim three.

Not that I'm disparaging this album for false advertising or something ridiculous like that. If anything, Groove Armada still came correct for what their fanbase expected of them: more soulful, downtempo music, this time with heavier emphasis on the dubbier aspects of it. There's still moments for pastoral arrangements (Litttle By Little, Lazy Moon, Edge Hill) and funkier jams (Drifted, Tuning In (Dub Mix)), all performed in a classier, smoother fashion than similar sounds on Vertigo. Unfortunately, it also doesn't leave quite the same impression for the same reason all highly-competently produced music of this sort does, getting a little lost in the ability to make it over keeping things simple and to the point.

For that reason, I can understand why Goodbye Country (Hello Nightclub) just doesn't get the same name-drops that Vertigo and even later albums do. Or maybe it really is that stupid 9/11 conspiracy after all. If its any consolation, I'm writing this on the eve of potentially saying goodbye to that country altogether!

Erot - Gneiss EP

Ultimae Records: 2021

I guess you can say, at this late stage, my 'relationship' with Ultimae Records has grown... complicated? Like, the honeymoon period is long in the past, but its hard letting go of those feel-good memories. My interest in their output isn't what it used to be, but every so often, something triggers those endorphins again, such that I have to hear if I've missed anything, anything at all, that will bring the pleasant glow back. A seductive revealing of the thigh, a kind word when you need to hear it the most, all the little things that made that initial relationship oh-so worth holding on to. (*whew* good thing this is just a metaphor, right? ...right??)

So it goes with Erot's EP for Ultimae, Gneiss. On the surface, it looks like more of the same low-key, ultra-minimalist dubby downtempo music with a fascination with geological formations. Nothing that sparked my interest but when Aes Dana lured me back in with (a) period., I couldn't help but scoop up more, hoping for another hidden gem like James Murray's Remote Redux.

I mean, this Erot fella', he'd previously released on Altar Records, a label I felt was something of a sister print to Ultimae before the two went down vastly different sonic roads. He'd also put out material on Iboga Records, which is about as hit-or-miss as Ultimae became, true, but there's still some pedigree there. Plus, his thorough Discoggian bio states he was sucked into the wider world of electronic music via the goa trance scene, so maybe some of those influences would find their way into his debut with Ultimae? Ah, no, not really. If anything, he was already on the path of dubby, minimalist music, so getting in with Vincent Villuis' crew seemed... well, not inevitable, but certainly a proper capper in Tore Kofod Hyldahl's career. Which may be the case, considering Lord Discogs lists Gneiss as his last release to date.

Anyway, it didn't take me long to remember that, even if the musical content from Ultimae isn't what it used to be, there's still no knocking that ultra-lush, richly immersive mastering job every single release comes with. By second track Morild, I feel like I'm wandering mysterious caverns, tracing my fingers along veins of metamorphic minerals, Erot's sparse percussion the echoes of my footsteps and distant trickling water. And damn, that endless depth of sonic space. It's been a Villuis staple since forever, but it's still somehow the best mastering job you'll ever hear out of this scene. He's got the secret recipe for this sauce that no one can replicate.

Which, I cannot deny, gives the impression I'm selling Erot's efforts short, that Gneiss wouldn't be as rich a listen if it didn't have the Aes Dana touch. It's not an unfair critique, but then, that widescreen ambience is why I return to Ultimae again and again. Whoever is the lucky chosen artist that receives its blessing is almost inconsequential to my interests.

Sven Van Hees - Gemini

Life Enhancing Audio: 1999

I always felt I did Sven van Hees a bit dirty in raiding so much of his music back in my P2P days. Right, it wasn't my fault his name came up often when I was on the prowl for 'downtempo' and 'chill' music of a slightly dubby bent. And hey, if I had ever seen any of his albums on a local music shelf, I probably would have picked it up on name recognition by that point. Despite making frequent appearances on early techno and latter Ibizan compilations though, I never spotted his CDs. Right, that Svengali one might have been a bit weird over here, but not even Gemini? Guess Life Enhancing Audio was too small-time for North American consideration, so just as well Sven took things into his own hands with his own Your Lips print, where he carries on releasing music through to this day.

It is an interesting turn for the Belgian though, going from one of the earliest proponents of Balearic trance and tribal techno to a staple of the Mediterranean lounge scene. Or maybe the latter was always in his wheel-house, it was just more prudent to produce tunes for the local rave scene at first. It's not like the chill-out market was as fruitful in the early '90s compared to the commercial juggernaut it became, especially in his native country. It's still something of a whiplash hearing an upbeat techno track on his R & S Records EP Emotional Rehabilitation or Global Cuts The Bellydance EP, then fast-forwarding to Gemini. (those early efforts are worth checking out, hence the cheeky name-drops!)

The unfortunate thing about actually grabbing this album is it's a little redundant to my music collection. Ten tracks make up its forty-five minute runtime, and I already have three of them: Tsunami (Inside My Soul), Breakfast With Abductees, and Serrano Anthem (Amor/Amor). And hey, these are great tunes, so effortlessly capturing the carefree, jazzy lounge vibes of being on vacation in the most luxurious tropical resort. Or rather, the memories of being in said paradise. It's not quite at a Boards Of Canada level of hauntology, but there's definitely a hazy recollection of past times in Sven's production. It makes his music stand out so much more compared to the usual Cafe del Mar type tunes you'd associate with this scene. Small wonder Gemini is often hailed as a minor classic of Ibizan lounge music.

And that's the general style you get here. Some tunes are little more uptempo (Matrass Mambo, Seasonal Bounty (Smooth '94)), some funkier (Tamiami Blues, Flute Salada, Supafly (Hannah's Lullaby)), others dreamier (Ocean Jive). It's all smoothly polished without stripping any of the soul, the perfect soundtrack for a lazy day on your patio.

Is it good enough for me to explore further Sven van Hees music though, post-2000? I'm... not so sure. I fear he may fall into a similar musical repetitiveness I found Thievery Corporation did, but nothing ventured, nothing gained.

N:L:E - Floating Garden

Liquid Frog Records: 2021

This was bound to happen sooner or later. An artist releasing this much music in such a short time span, mostly sticking to a dubby, downtempo and ambient aesthetic for his works, can't help but repeat themselves here and there. And that's fine, musicians exploring different facets of similar themes and all. How many blues singers or folk warblers basically rehash the same song structure over and over (not to mention the banal repetitiveness of pop country). What I hadn't counted on was hearing nearly a carbon-copy of a track!

Or at least, I thought I did. I swear, the opening track to N:L:E's Floating Garden - A Green Sunshine - I've heard before. Granted, it's sometimes hard parsing out which minimalist ambient piece differs from another, especially after the amount I've already heard from Juan Pablo. Towards the back half, though, a gentle, harmonic tone ebbs in and out, putting you into a meditative trance. It then has a rather abrupt fade-out at the end, but then starts right back up in follow-up track Nice Light For My Plants. It carries on for a little while, receding again for another round of ultra-calm ambient, then re-emerges later on. And damn if I haven't heard this exact sequence with that exact harmonic tone used elsewhere in Mr. Giacovino's catalogue.

Thing is, I actually checked the releases I've thus far covered, and didn't come across it again! Granted, I wasn't sifting through every track minute by minute to confirm – that's well over thirty items, including ten Caravan Of Healing Sounds. My autistic ticks only take me so far before giving up on some obsessions. Still gave it as good of a skim as is deemed sensible, and nope, didn't hear that sequence elsewhere. Did I somehow Mandela Effect myself into this? Maybe I happened to play Floating Garden out of sequence sometime in the past couple years since I bought the N:L:E discography? Really and truly bizarre.

If this all seems like a wild tangent, well, that's because I'm reviewing another Natural Life Essence album. There really isn't much else I can say about them beyond what particular style Juan Pablo opts to explore on a particular release, Floating Garden going deep in the lowercase ambient field indeed. Gentle melodic tones, relaxing field recordings, and all that tranquil stuff. Like one of his Caravans though, he does bring some dubby beats towards the end for Rain In The Floating Garden 2, then gets a little peppier with them in closer The Happiness Of A Floating Dandelion. Given they are the shortest cuts on this seven-tracker (titular piece runs over sixteen minutes), it's clear they're not a primary focus for Floating Garden. More like bringing you back awake in case you dozed too deeply for the past hour.

This definitely is one of the calmest albums I've heard from N:L:E. At least, I think it is, from recent memory. Man, this discography dive is already two years old...

Q-Burns Abstract Message - Feng Shui

Astralwerks: 1998

Michael Donaldson's project always felt bigger than it actually turned out. Maybe it's because his early tracks were appearing on several noteworthy labels via compilations and mixes, FFRR the most prominent of the lot. Also showing up on OM Records, Wall Of Sound, and even Mo Wax (kinda') didn't hurt in selling Q-Burns Abstract Message as an artist with an ear to the ground with what was hip and shakin'. However, he was seldom ever tidily pigeon-holed into any particular scene. Was he acid jazz? Trip-hop? Dubby breaks? Big beat? Balearic chill? A bit of everything, really, and coming up in a time when an eclectic style at least got you noticed.

Q-Burns got his proper break with Astralwerks, consolidating his wayward tracks onto a 'debut' comp' called Oeuvre. Oh my, doesn't that come off just a tad pretentious. If so, then titling his proper debut Feng Shui won't help. I get it though, this being the late '90s, and alternate interior design all the hipster hype. Yes, let's use Far East spiritualism as a guiding principle in how to arrange wall shelves. I jest, some practical use in 'feeling' how one's living environment should flow just so. Titling an album upon it though...

Actually, it makes sense, his music rather free-flowing in of itself. In fact, I can't help suspect Mr. Donaldson was reigning himself in. The sort of artist brimming with ideas, fully capable of crafting pieces exploring them, but also realizing not everyone would be down for an ultra expressionist outing for a debut. Gotta' lure in folks with traditional dance tunes, hook them in with the familiar, then throw them for a loop when you go off on a little key-change solo two-thirds deep.

That's the general approach to Feng Shui, but obviously each cut offers something different from the other. Opener He's A Skull does the big, funky breaks thing with a quirky vocal sample. Follow-up Solar Car goes even funkier in a Euro-hop, skippity sort of way. Jennifer gets on that chill-out vibe by way of French pop getting so very popular at the time (thanks, AIR). Some tracks are more catered to showing ear-wormy contorted sounds or samples (New Patterns, the titular cut). Others are just an excuse for him to jam things out (A.S.T., Talking Box). And in case you did come to a Q-Burns album looking for more of the acid jazz vibes, Kinda Picky and There Must Be Something have you covered.

It all sounds like a solid record (and I really dig his bass tones in several tracks), so why isn't Feng Shui brought up in talks of Very Important 'Electronica' albums of the '90s? Honestly, I think things are played almost too safe. It's a good album, but the decade was spoiled for great albums, good ones gaining fans who find them, but few of the plaudits that entrench it within the lingering scene consciousness. Which kinda' sums up the Q-Burns Abstract Message story in a nutshell.

The Grid - Electric Head

EastWest: 1990

Tale as old as time: two guys meet while working with a legend of their scene (in this case, Psychic TV), decide they have enough creative synergy to do something on their own, and proceed to craft a bunch of tunes influenced by their contemporary clime'. That it would eventually lead to kicking off the 'country twang house' movement of the '90s is something I'm sure no one could have conceived, but I've already covered that bit of history in my review of Evolver.

And to be fair, it's not like Dave Ball was some unknown entity when he lent his talents to the Genesis P-Orridge project, having come off a successful run as the music-man behind Soft Cell. Getting in on that UK acid house scene was inevitable, but finding a kindred spirit in Richard Norris likely helped get things rolling much smoother than most post new-wave efforts often yielded.

However, sometimes you hit the studio with too many ideas sloshing about your brainpan, anxious to get them all out without any clear focus in how to make them all connect. Electric Head certainly doesn't hold back in offering a little something of everything you might hear wandering in a daze through the second Summer Of Love, but I'm not surprised this album doesn't get name-dropped that often when talk of that era comes up. Floatation, yes, absolutely, a definitive staple in the burgeoning afterhours chill-out scene. The plunderphonic-hop of Are You Receiving though? Or the woozy house of Driving Instructor? Or the hi-NRG antics of A Beat Called Love? Or the dopey EBM of Doctor Celine? The Pet Shop Boys aping This Must Be Heaven? Not so much, I wager. That Intergalactica though, I can't see anyone having much trouble working that into a Moroder inspired set. You might even throw folks for a loop after revealing it was made by the same chaps as Texas Cowboy.

That about sums it up though, doesn't it? The classic albums of electronic music from the early '90s are typically deemed as such because they were trend setters, defining genres in their infancy. While The Grid were certainly capable song writers and clever studio producers right out the gate, there really isn't much on Electric Head that you couldn't hear elsewhere. I guess that's why they made this more of an album experience, linking everything with interstitial sonic doodles and field recordings, which does help. Makes it feel like you're taking a sampling of what you might hear surfing the radio waves of the UK at the time. The spaced-out acid house of opener One Giant Step not doing it for you, so you switch the station, and oh, here's some sampledelic electro in Islamotron. But I want to hear something reminding me of that trip to Ibiza. Like all the clubby tunes? No, no, I've heard plenty of that already. I mean the comedown part.

Yeah, small wonder lead single Floatation got placed at the end of the album.

N:L:E - Ecovillage

Liquid Frog Records: 2022

Not very often we get an album focusing so specifically on the achievements of mankind from N:L:E. Juan Pablo tends to prefer exploring our naturalistic surroundings, from the micro to the macro, realms unconcerned with humanity's presence. Even Yahgan, a direct reference to a people living in the remote ends of Argentina, is more an homage to their nearly lost culture than an exploration of our species' presence in even the most inhospitable clime's.

And maybe its that concern for the often destructive nature of our adaptive abilities that got Mr. Giacovino feeling inspired by something a little more sustainable in co-existing within our environments. Make no mistake: for as remarkable as its been that we've bent mother nature to our will in service of our survival, its come with many fallouts too. No other animal has so radically altered its living spaces for its own benefit to such a degree as humans have. Even the engineering feats of the mighty beaver pale compared to our concrete fortifications. Heck, given how much Earth's atmosphere has changed during the Holocene Epoch, we just might give even cyanobacteria a run for its money! Okay, maybe not. They had a few hundred million years to do what they did, and we'll be lucky to make it to our first million years of existence.

Where was I? Oh, right, ecovillages. Yeah, that's one way we might stave off our inevitable doom. Dwellings making use of natural energy sources like solar power and windmills and rain floods. All good for small scale communities, absolutely, though you'd really have to dig that isolated trad life while you're at it. And hey, given the ever-increasing stresses put upon us by over-stimulation from ongoing world events, unplugging and retreating to the ass-ends of some corner of Earth does sound tempting. Still, take it from someone who did spend a spell living in one of those ass-ends of the Earth: shit gets real boring real fast. You gotta' be quite content with the humdrum life, because there ain't much else that'll get your jimmies rustled. Not for the ADHD inclined, is what I'm sayin'.

Anyhow, Ecovillage. As this is something of a more 'earthly' concept from Natural Life Essence, the music on hand gets quite groovy and dubby for much of its runtime. Saving Water even whips out the melodica for a jam over its ultra-lazy rhythms, while Chant adds some simulated throat singing (I assume, since it doesn't sound much like a sample). Elsewhere, Fire Storm Ritual ups the tempo to prog-psy levels, though retains rather mostly broken beats for its duration, all the while reminding me of AstroPilot in the process (whoo, acid!).

Overall, a generally uplifting, positive vibe is maintained, as though we're bearing witness to a community in high spirits going about their daily activities. Hey, you didn't have to sell the idea of an Ecovillage that hard, Juan Pablo. You had me at 'environmentally sustainable arable society' alone. How's the internet connection though?

Krystian Shek - Despite Our Silence

Carpe Sonum Records: 2021

Krystian's a frequent Carpe Sonum contributor, indeed among their earliest sign-ons. Probably didn't hurt he's also Fax+ alumni, debuting on Pete Namlook's print over two decades ago. Yet it's taken me this long to finally bite the bullet on one of his albums. Why? I mean, both Sometimes Not and Al-Qāhirah are blue covered releases, so surely Mr. Shek is a shoo-in for my interests. Well, I did sample some, and turns out Krystian fancies himself the minimalist dub techno style a fair amount. Hey, I fancy myself that as well, on occasion, but I tend to get my fill elsewhere, from names like Lars Leonhard and labels like Ultimae Records.

Still, I was likely doing myself a disservice if I didn't at least give ol' Krystian at least one chance, so nabbed this particular album of Despite Our Silence. Why? Cover art reminded me of some Silent Season vibes, and with that label now seemingly on permanent hiatus, gotta' get my naturalist dub techno tunes somewhere.

And the titular opening track bodes... slightly promising? I'm mostly reminded of Norman Feller's Frameless Structure, what with its deep dub atmospherics, minimalist sinewy synths, and distant field recordings. Whereas Norman wasn't afraid to lay some emotional tones on thick, however, Krystian keeps things about as restrained as humanly possible – I kept waiting for things to kick up another notch, but it simply doesn't, content remaining at the same tone for its seven minute duration. Well, this is the opening track, the mood setter, from where things can build upon. Right?

Typically, yes, but instead Mr. Shek goes ever more minimal for much of the remaining album. Sparse dub throbs, rhythms that barely tick and tock (if there's even any percussion), and exactly one (1) unique feature per track that comes and goes with little fanfare. Some acid in From the Depths Of The Hearts. Spritely synths in A Spot Of Dust that'll get your John Carpenter triggers flaring. Echoing synth leads that hint at something grander way, way beyond in Occupied By Night. Some gentle piano diddling in Morning Fog. An aggressive bit of post-dubstep rhythm that's over before it begins in Forbidden Forests. Only final track The Bells Of Kiribati offers something truly different, all layered bell tones, field recordings and sample manipulations. Oh, and a CD secret song after, something comparatively uptempo and, dare I say, hooky for dub techno. Holy cow, did this album ever need more of that!

But then I suspect Despite Our Silence is not that sort of album. Fair enough, but at just forty-five minutes long (sans secret song), it doesn't offer much either. There's some dub tones, there's sporadic melodic tasters sprinkled about, and not a whole lot else. Even if I'm down for the spacious emptiness of it all, without that exquisite Ultimae Mixdown™ Aes Dana provides for similar sounding albums on his label's releases, I simply don't get as lost within. An unfortunate case of 'it's okay, but I've heard better'-itis.

The 13th Sign - Da Story Never Ends

On Delancey Street: 1996

You want music rabbit holes, you got 'em!

The 13th Sign is a name I recognized via exactly One (1) compilation, the acid-jazzy, trip-hoppy CD from Waveform Records titled Frosty. You might remember it for its distinct cover shot of an ice-encrusted buffalo. Chill-out music indeed. The track included of theirs, Take Me To A Distant Bass, definitely fit the bill of an acid-hop, trip-jazzy excursion, one of those vintage 'nothing's off the table' '90s tunes of sampledelic dub vibes. I quite liked it, but not enough to dig much further into the artist, assuming it just some one-off project by an unknown individual. Well, I was half-right.

The 13th Sign definitely was a one-off, but Chris Bangs is far from an unknown. Or at least, to those well-versed in the UK acid jazz scene. I'm not, only having a passing familiarity with the label Eddie Piller and Gilles Peterson built (and all that followed from it), but as I said, it's a super-massive rabbit hole one can get lost down for quite some time. Shit's over thirty-five years old now!

Anyhow, Chris Bangs was a major contributor for them, releasing multiple albums and singles under multiple aliases and group projects. Names like The Quiet Boys, Break 4 Jazz, Original Soulboy, Extasis, Mr. Electric Triangle (hey, another Frosty track!), Boogie Boy, Galaxy 21, Two Dam Hot, and Yada Yada. When acid jazz' popularity started waning after the turn of the century, he tried getting into the garage and deep house scene (including starting a label called Dadhouse (!)), but that seemed to fizzle out, and he seemingly retired from production after. Oh, and in the middle of all that, he released a trip-hop, illbient-leaning record under the guise of The 13th Sign, as was the style at the time.

This is another one of those albums that deservedly flew under the radar, as trip-hop was getting quite overdone by '96, but ain't half-bad in its own right. Mr. Bangs was far from a slouch in the producer's chair, knowing exactly what sort of samples worked best with what sort of beats and solos, slickly produced with little fuss. Very meat 'n' potatoes stuff, is what I'm saying, that sounds solid as it plays, leaves a nice little impression upon your afternoon, but doesn't really spark much discussion about after. Perfect compilation fodder, is what I'm sayin', and so did Thievery Corporation for their DJ-Kicks CD.

Chris does mix things up though, offering some welcome spice to all the the street-level grooves. Come Off This Trip gets on some freestyle action, Someday gets brisk in its beatcraft hovering near jazzy d'n'b (with acid!), and Back In The Day raids funk's fathers for the b-boy throwdown. Elsewhere, Anthea Clarke gives us the soul singin' in Pressures, while Travis Blaque gives us the conscious rap in 90 Infinity (hmm, I wonder where he got that from?). Again, all solid stuff, but I'm not surprised few know of The 13th Sign's existence.

Various - Clockwork Manor (Cottage Industries 9)

Neo Ouija: 2019

As mentioned in my first review of a Cottage Industries, the Neo Ouija series has pretty much become the label's sole output in recent years. Really, it's kind of funny Lee Norris would dust off the old print just for this reason. Then again, he's got so many labels and affiliates since this one's early '00s heyday, I doubt he'd be able to keep track of what artists should go where and so on.

Yeah, its relaunch probably had as much to do with releasing new Norken and Metamatics material than anything else, but why waste the opportunity to bring other talents into the fold, even if its only via compilations. Still, it must have proved successful, as after the first couple Cottage Industries tested the waters with single CD options, the ninth edition, Clockwork Manor, goes hog wild with a triple-disc, thirty-six track extravaganza. Or overload, depending on what your enjoyment threshold is for various forms of experimental IDM glitch-pop.

Of these thirty-six, I only recognize a handful of names: John Tejada, Ambidextrous, Ruxpin, Drøn. That led me to believe I was dealing with a bunch of new artists, the compilation going out of its way to highlight up and comers. Yet clicking through most of their Discogs entries, that's hardly the case, many actively releasing material throughout the '10s. They may have been extremely obscure, getting shine on Neo Ouija their biggest break and all, but still, some spent in the trenches getting there is good.

This is also one of those collections of music where you could assign a unique genre to every single track, if you're anal-retentive enough about music classification. I gave a very generalized style-salad above, but that's only scratching the surface. There's honestly something enjoyable for everyone here. Randomly picked, there's Boards-like downtempo (Velum's Break Infinis) or confounding skitter-skatter beatcraft (BLN's Ly Oc) or noisy electro (Carbinax' Capable Beast) or shuffly frigid-acid (Octavcat's Icefield) or clicky mood music (h7 buffer's Qwon Trill). Only duff I recall is a lone dubstep track, 4D3x from Dialed, sounding like an out-of-place 'alleyway toff' among so much undeniably dorky music.

If there's this much music worth discussing across three CDs, why don't I split this review up as I've done in the past? Well, despite ordering the 3CD option off Bandcamp, I never received them (not the first time this happened from this label, sadly), leaving me with the thirty-six track digital version. And believe you me, when trying to sit down and take in nearly three hours of this stuff, a lot of it kinda' mushes into your brain. Matters aren't helped when the sonic diversity is wildly abrupt, with track lengths averaging four-to-six minute, such that material doesn't have much chance of standing out in single playthroughs. Frankly, I often felt like I was listening to a glorified label sampler rather than a thematic compilation. Which kinda' sums up my thoughts about most mega-massive 'streaming playlist' collections of the modern era.

N:L:E - Bioluminescent Forest

Liquid Frog Records: 2020

When I think of a 'bioluminescent forest', I think of the out-wordly foliage of those Avatar movies. Which, y'know, makes one-hundred percent sense, since the alien world of Pandora does feature all manner of indigenous fauna that glows in the dark. It's like James Cameron wandered the woods of an outdoor psy trance party and thought, “This, but naturally grown.” Come to think of it, ol' Jim's been fascinated by bioluminosity since at least The Abyss, a movie featuring an entire underwater realm of beings bespeckled in shimmering lights emitting from their metabolisms. I'm sure its his motivating factor in all those deep sea dives, hoping to stumble upon a true Atlantian civilization hidden within oceanic depths so far uncharted. Eh, we've done an adequate job surveying the abyssal plain thus far – ain't much down there after all.

Where was I? Oh yeah, Bioluminescent Forest. I bring all that Avatar business up because the Pandora forests are what I associate with such a title. Why, then, is the cover art of Natural Life Essence's album so drab and grey? I mean, it's a nice picture of a meadow at dawn, but hardly a forest, much less of a bioluminescent variety. Then again, there aren't any naturally occurring plants that glow in the dark as it is, so it would be a heavy ask for Juan Pablo providing cover art of such a thing. Plus, given the track names of this album, the cover art does make more sense. One doesn't think of shimmering lights when reading titles like Cold Thick Fog, Night, and Rainy Day. Methinks the theme may be a bit muddled here.

The first half at least sets out as it means to, The Autumn Ritual opening with some nice field recordings before settling into a nice, dubby jaunt of glittering synths and groovy rhythms. I wouldn't call this psy dub, but it does remind me some of Sync24's works, just without the added acid. Follow-up Tree Reunion slows things down, even invoking some Amazonian rain-forest vibes ...a vibe I just realized has been noticeably absent from Mr. Giacovino's work considering he resides in South America. True, Argentina ain't equatorial, but y'know what I mean.

Anyhow, as the album plays out, I can't help but feel we're mostly exploring similar ideas over various styles. The three-track run of Night, And, and Day lasts well over thirty-five minutes, and is practically the same musical piece, just progressively more minimalist and ambient. It's neat after a fashion, but rather feels out of place among all the other tracks, especially since the almost chipper reggae-dub of Cold Thick Fog precedes it. More than that though, many of the backing, whispery synth pads sound like they're in the same key, leading to the whole album sounding rather samey throughout. Still, hearing the gentle pitter-patter of percipitation in closer Rainy Day as gentle synths bip and bop about, how can I have negative thoughts about Bioluimiscent Forest? I simply cannot.

Sykonee's 'Sportsing' Surveys: TIPPER

You know the type of fan: those who are so enraptured by an amazing artist, they can't help but endlessly go on about their genius, all the multiple layers of ingenuity within each construct, and will make damn sure you know about it, whether you care or not. The Tool Fan is probably the most famous of the lot, but many such acts have had such fans over the years. Pink Floyd, Radiohead, Kanye West, and so on. And it's never enough that they simply enjoy their fav's while letting others be, oh no. They must preach the Genius Gospel to others any chance they get, as though they're revealing some forbidden knowledge to the plebs that only they understand.

And I get it. No, really, I do! I've had moments like that in my own musical crusades. Early on in my Trance Wars, I would invade any unsuspecting forum or chat going on about the latest Dutch DJ, proclaiming their prefered trance as the bunk, espousing the true artistic genius of such God-like names as Kox Box or Oliver Lieb. And you know what? I was wrong to do so. Nothing turns folks off from an act faster than some twat invading their space telling them their taste in music is wrong, and it would only be right if they would just listen to the finer details of this particular style. Nay, 'tis better to create your own podium (re: blog) if you absolutely feel the need to sermonize about your taste in music - let the people come to you.

Where was I? Oh, right, Dave Tipper. Yeah, he's got one of those fanbases too. Not nearly as obnoxious as some other electronic music acts (Boards Of Canada, Porter Robinson, Illenium, Ricardo Villalobos, nearly any popular tech-house DJ, really ...Bassnectar, before all that), but I've definitely had those conversations with Tipper fans. That he'd be so much more popular and recognized by the industry at large, if only more people heard and "actually understood what he's doing in his music". Yet when I listened to a couple tracks or watch a festival vid', I seldom came away thinking any more of his talents than what was presented. Maybe I needed to hear the whole story, then, all of his works (or at least, his albums), then I would see the light? Let's get that survey on, then!









After all that, I'm sure folks are wondering: do I feel Tipper's hype is justified? After a fashion, I'd say so. His attention to sonic detail cannot be denied, and if that's what gets your jimmies off the most about electronic music, then have at 'er. Whenever he'd get super-deep into the weeds, however, I more often than not would start checking out. It's just a style of excessive production I care little about, and truth of the matter is, not many others do either. Tipper's style fills a particular niche, and for those fond of that niche, he's their God favoured son. I just don't always need to hear about it.

*whew* All this Serious Artistic Music has made getting hype during my 'sportsing' endeavours difficult. I think I need to get back to some 'dumb' music again. Gonna' do another Mastodon poll, but don't be suprised if my next survey is significantly less musically challenging.

Ra - 9th

Suntrip Records: 2008

Okay, I could have sworn Ra were super old-school goa trancers. I mean, they certainly have been around since the early years, technically forming way back in '94 (so sayeth Lord Discogs). Apparently they never released much until well after the fact though, their debut album To Sirius coming out in the year 2000. I dunno', I'm just getting some serious Mandela Effect on their name, one I thought cropped up on numerous psy trance compilations throughout the '90s. They got some tracks on the endless Goa-Head series, but not until after the turn of the millennium. Is it because they also featured on numerous Altar Records CDs, including features on that label's 'Elemental' run? That may have something to do with associating Ra with a solid compilation game, but not thinking they've had numerous albums out before then.

It's the title of this one that's got me all confuzzled, isn't it. When an artist names their record 9th, I just assume it's their ninth record. But this isn't their ninth – it's their second. Why is this called 9th, then? Maybe I should actually read the liner notes, get some insight into the inspiration for this album.

Uh huh, uh huh... Hmm, something about the 'ninth insight' required to raise one's spirit density level. Erm, why does that remind me of New Age mumbo-jumbo? Let me check double-check that... *commences with the Googling* Ah, The Celestine Prophecy. Of course it is. Well, I won't hold it against them.

Anyhow, as mentioned, Ra have been around the block for some time, a pair of Norwegians teaming up to release a resolutely ol' school goa trance album with To Sirius. This actually garnered them some positive attention, as this was in the era of psy getting very minimal, proggy, fussy... y'know, all the things that classic goa wasn't. It makes perfect sense, then, that when resolutely ol' school goa trance connoisseurs Suntrip Records were getting their stride on, Ra would be among their earliest acts to sign. Despite a slight delay, the album came out in 2008 to much... appreciation, I guess?

I personally feel 9th is a solid enough excursion into what folks were (and still are?) calling the Neo Goa sound, which Suntrip are very much proponents of: classic goa trance vibes with (then) modern production values. In a nutshell, stuff that maybe wouldn't have stood out as classic 'back in the day', but compared to the prog-psy plod and full-on fluff that was making the rounds when it came out, definitely material that stands out from the pack. Aside from an opening vocal that reminded me Snap! sans Turbo B, I very much enjoyed the tunes on 9th, but generally only as they played. Perhaps Ra's use of synth leads are a tad too subtle to really stick after. Or I'm just mentally hedging my exceptions because, got'dang, have I got a lot more Suntrip to sift through in the coming year. Could be, could be.

Yaghan - Yaghan's Land E.P

Liquid Frog Records: 2018

Before you ask, yes, this is titled Yaghan's Land from 'Yaghan', and yes, this is still the same Juan Pablo Giacovino project that would immediately after be referred to as Yahgan. And no, this isn't some weird typo or misprint on his part. Truth is the two had been interchangeable for centuries, with many other variants floating about in that time, depending on era and European interpretation. So it goes with Native American peoples, even ones living in as remote a region of the global south as one can get without crossing into Antarctica. If you want to be respectful and proper-like with their lineage, however, Yahgan is the correct name for history's southernmost mini-civ'. I'm guessing when Juan Pablo launched this side-project, 'Yaghan' was the version he was most familiar with, then promptly switched to the traditional 'Yahgan' after digging a little deeper into the subject. And since The Internet never forgets, just kept the original EP name and title as-was. 'Tis fine, really it is.

As for how early into Mr. Giacovino's catalogue this came out, Yaghan's Land came out quite early indeed. Bandcamp chronology dates this just after Wave Bio Collector, and since this was another release of his I had to submit to Lord Discogs' archives (that whole 'Yaghan / Yahgan' thing is gonna' be a doozy for moderators, no doubt), I have to assume it was self-released. Or maybe it came out on some ultra-obscure netlabel with, like, three releases on it? I'm getting way too deep into the weeds of these details! Somehow seems appropriate given how many of his N:L:E albums focus on micro-fauna.

Anyhow, the EP opens with a titular track, lasting a mere three minutes long. Okay, that may seem long if this was any other dance music genre EP, but as this is a pure ambient piece with cystaline synths and wind-swept atmosphere, you'd think more time would be spent settling us into the frigid Yahgan climate. It's also quite grandiose compared to the rest of the EP, follow-up Travelling a far more subtle affair. There's still that sense of being out on the frontier, but remote and isolated. Soft rhythmic patters and melodic pulses gradually emerge as singular synth strings ebb and flow in support, but never reach a rousing crescendo, keeping things on the calm and tranquil, even if a little epic vibe is implied towards the end.

On the other end of the EP are two parts of Rupture In The Echo, totally some twenty-three minutes of playtime. The first is also a mostly ambient affair, the softest pitter-patter offered as a sporadic rhythm. Simple synth drones and distant waves make up the bulk of this piece, a remarkably soothing journey of minimalist tones. In case you need a little more pep in your tunes though, Part 2 brings in actual ambient techno beat to the fray, dubby effects thrown on for flair. Cool, but I rather prefer the beatless option. Makes for nice dozing music.

Nightmares On Wax - A Word Of Science (The 1st And Final Chapter)

Warp Records: 1991

Probably not the only Nightmares On Wax album you're supposed to have, much less start with if you're beginning a Nightmares On Wax collection. Indeed, many point to Smoker's Delight as the true beginning of the NoW legacy, what with its clear demarcation within the trip-hop pantheon. Hell, the genre technically didn't even exist yet when A Word Of Science came out, though a few tracks here definitely helped create the DNA that would form the basis of all those depressive downtempo vibes. Nay, the Nightmares debut is still very much a product of its era, and that era includes the bleep techno of the UK rave scene, of which early Warp Records were prominent champions of. Who's got time to chill the fuck out when there's illegal parties to hop about?

Still, it's that Warp lineage that's retained A Word Of Science's cultural cache to this day. It sits at a significant crossroad, lodged between the LFO debut Frequencies and the seminal series debut of Artificial Intelligence. Where even though the ravey roots of the label are still present, time is spent on tunes feeling the downswing of a night, preferably enjoyed while loungin' about with a spliff in hand. A big part of this is due to the brains behind NoW, George Evelyn, leaving no personal influence off the table. He may have felt this was his one shot at getting his vision of music out there – a 'first and final' one, if you will. So even though the Nightmares On Wax story kicked off with some techno records, here come the funk, soul, and hip-hop samplings sharing album space with the warehouse tools.

Of course, if you're coming into A Word Of Science from the future, with little historical context, you could very well assume this being more of the trip-hop groove that defined Smoker's Delight. Right from the jump, we're greeted by Nights Interlude, their classic easy-going, laidback downtempo jam of jazzy solos and soulful strings. A tune so timeless, it continues to appear on 'chill out' compilations. A vibe so sweet, George basically opened Smoker's Delight with a remix of it. That's about it for such tracks on this album though. Playtime gets a little more sultry, Back Into Time a little more Steve Miller Band-y, and E.A.S.E more playful (you can hear Gorillaz in this one), but the rest of A Word Of Science...? Yeah, not so much.

Instead, you get bass-rattling, minimalist UK techno (A Case Of Funk, Biofeedback, Aftermath, Dextrous, Sal), stabs at vintage house (Coming Down, Fun), and a little Brit-hop for good measure (Mega Donutz, How Ya Doin', the beatbox outing of B.W.T.M.). Very little of this excels beyond the year from whence it came, their dated attributes front and centre. And hey, if you're down for such 1991 sounds, then A Word Of Science will serve you fine. For many though, an adjustment of expectations is a must. Maybe borrow your older uncle's nostalgia headphones for a session.

N:L:E - W:O:O:D

Liquid Frog Records: 2021

Yeah, yeah, get in your puns here, Beavis. I know you can't help chortling seeing two tracks titled Log, Butthead. I'll grant the dimwitted duo's commentary for the Christmas Yule Fire video is legendary, but not everything must refer back to that. Sometimes, a lump of fallen bark is just a lump of fallen bark. Still, I wonder if ol' Juan Pablo suspected some potential sniggering over titling an album Wood, hence breaking the lettering up with colons (“hehe, heh”). Also, he'd condensed 'Natural Life Essence' to N:L:E by this point, plus would soon adopt H:U:M for his space-leaning works, so maybe he was growing fascinated by the double-dotted punctuation. It must have been a brief flirtation though, as W:O:O:D is his only album released with such quirky titling. So far...

I feel well entrenched in Mr. Giacovino's particulars now, and there's little minutiae I can find surrounding this release. It seems, in his never ending quest to find inspiration in all the ferns and fauna of our realms, he finally found the forests with W:O:O:D. Why, then, does the cover art look like moss on stone? Gotta' save the tree beauty shots for the Caravan Of Healing Sounds series? Whatever the case, it's clear I'm dawdling to burn up self-imposed word count, so enough of that. Let's get into music proper-like.

Following a vigorous two-minute intro of shimmering synths, things get scaled back to chill-out territory on Ancient Echo, a calm, languid pace of digital dub. Eventually layers of bright synths emerge, though not as pronounced as the Intro. A gentle violin adds to the pleasant tone, and that's about it before a nice wind-down. Log gets dubbier with its rhythms, including all the traditional elements like off-beat pulses and endlessly trailing echo with flange thrown on. I've been digging these sounds the earliest ambient dub days, and ain't no way I've tired of them yet. Heck, the Walking Again Mix that closes the album even adds some philosophical dialogue, which is about as cliche as it gets. Ain't no bad thing from my end though.

Appropriately for a track inspired by the little skittering critters you find when you overturn said logs, Drill Bugs goes more minimal with sparse percussion and spritely melodies, while South Winds does the ultra-subtle psy-dub builder business. Speaking of psy-dub – or one-time psy-dub adjacent - Reforest [ Birds And Leaves ] sparks some vintage Ultimae Records vibes from yours truly, including the spacious dub effects that let you hear all the emptiness between bass throbs. Maybe not so widescreen as you typically hear out of Aes Dana's studio, but for a self-produced item, Juan Pablo comes remarkably close. Through The Cracks In The Wood gets back to the groovier ambient dub lane.

Yeah, groovier is a way I'd describe W:O:O:D, at least compared to the other N:L:E albums I've thus far covered. It's been a few since I've started on Mr. Giacovino's catalogue, but there's still a whole lot more to come.

The Future Sound Of London - We Have Explosive 2021

fsoldigital.com: 2021

Of course this was up for a modern remix album. Aside from Papua New Guinea, it's possibly FSOL's most well known single. Not that it was their best, oh no. It's just when all of '90s electronic music reached its 'electronica' fever pitch, the blunt, big beat brashness of We Have Explosive made all the rounds of the compilation circuit. One can't help but suspect Brian and Garry made this as stupid-simple as possible, a far cry from all the psychedelic, 'future sounding' music they'd been making since signing with the Mighty Virgin. But hey, the trick worked, We Have Explosive remaining one of their most recognizable productions to this day. Nothing will get you hype speeding down super-sonic racing tracks like hearing those blaring digital alarms and funky guitar licks.

That did have me mulling over a question though: what else can you do with We Have Explosive? Or more importantly, was there anything else I cared to hear? The original and Herd Killing are all I know, and was quite content leaving it at that. Unlike various forms of Cascade and Lifeforms, I've never heard alternates of We Have Explosive floating about, leading me to conclude all that was ever needed out of it was accomplished with the album variants, the extended takes unnecessary to all but completists. And given the FSOL boys have long been uninterested in returning to boshy dance music, there didn't seem much room for further exploration of the track. Still, that doesn't mean they wouldn't give it the ol' London college try.

The original kicks things off, and though given a little extra production beef and flair, it's basically as you remember it in the years 1996 and 1997. Ah, the memories of that utterly bizarre music video with the bobble heads and plugs come rushing back. Implosive, meanwhile, takes things into rockier pastures – or psych-rock in this case, followed upon by a heavy, trip-hop take with Abandoned Housing Blocks Of Prypiat. Jonesing for something more experimental and modern? Tracks like Vaporise and Slide Door will have you covered, all skittery broken beats and minimalist soundscapes – almost sounds like they'd be more at home on an Environments CD.

Okay, so FSOL can take We Have Explosive into some nifty tangents, but c'mon, let's hear some real kick-ass stuff, mates! Detonation basically chops and screws everything up into a funky freak-out, Herd Killing is also given the 2021 're-beefening' treatment, Exploding ramps things up into drum 'n' bass territory, and Exotype... Holy shit, this is some menacing-as-fuck frantic breakcore shite! Ah, the 'what if' possibilities of FSOL going full IDM, eh?

A few more sampledelic groovers round out the rest, including Waiting Your Return, which borrows more from Vit Drowning and Through Your Gills I Breathe than We Have Explosive. Ah sweet, those are some of my favourite 'deep cuts' out of the classic FSOL catalogue. Well played, good sirs, you've given me more than I'd hoped for.

Yahgan - Ushuaia

Liquid Frog Records: 2021

Can't deny, I initially thought this was a different artist. Like, it wouldn't be out of the ordinary for Mr. Giacovino to have a few other acts on his self-release net-label, and seeing a couple collaborations between “Yahgan” and “N:L:E” only solidified that assumption. But nay, once I did a tad bit more research on this (re: submitted this release to Discogs), I realized this is just another alias from ol' Juan. Gosh, are all the items there like that? I see a couple more project names (Spiritual Fields, Kiphi), so maybe so. And here I thought I was buying up a label's worth of new producers. Damn, that actually makes the rate of his output even more impressive!

Still, this alias should have been a small clue out of the gate. Yahgan is a reference to the peoples that lived in the southern end of the South American continent since... well, since peoples ever existed there. Archaeology finds have dated artifacts of the Tierra del Fuego region as some ten-thousand years old, so a hefty amount of time existing in such a remote area of the world. The Yahgan weren't completely isolated though, other tribes dwelling about the archipelago. Being essentially huddled into the southern tip, however, led to a language and culture quite unique to anything else in the area. What I find fascinating is how this latitude compares to its northern counterpart, particularly the contrast between the indigenous peoples from my old stomping grounds. In some ways, the Yahgan and Haida are similar (isolated, seafaring archipelago folk), but how those root cultures evolved over the centuries couldn't be further apart. Maybe if Cape Horn had more lodgepole pine trees.

Anyhow, I assume Juan Pablo was inspired by the O.G. Argentinians to start crafting music with remote vibes in mind. Maybe not so dark ambient as Ugasanie goes, but something that captures the spirit of nomadic wanderings among tundra islands. Which kinda' makes naming a major port city Ushuaia a tad funny, seeing as how the Yahgan didn't really have permanent settlements. Still, the name is apt, more or less translating from the native language as “deep bay”. More proudly, and from which Juan gained his inspiration from, Ushuaia lays claim to being the southernmost city on the globe, “end of the world.”. You go, girl!

Like H:U:M's Universal Code, Yahgan's Ushuaia features four tracks, the first three of which build upon each other. Fortunately, there aren't obvious pauses between them, each piece distinctly their own, even if they're re-using similar sound assets. Once again, Part1 is the pure ambient outing, grand synth pads flowing about while a rather crisp, watery sound drips in the background. Part2 adds rhythmic synth harmonies, giving the piece momentum before brighter synths shower down at the peak. Part3 brings some actual downtempo beats to the fray, while the N:L:E Mix beefs the rhythm into dubbier pastures while adding some mildly glitchy sound effects. Ooh, were these in an Oliver Lieb sample pack?

N:L:E - Uncharted Lands

Liquid Frog Records: 2022

No sooner do I finish one box-set than I start another. Kinda'. Okay, buying the bulk of Liquid Frog Records' Bandcamp catalogue doesn't technically count as purchasing a box-set. Hell, as this was an entirely digital transaction, I have no actual physical copies of any of these items. How can I call this a box-set if there's no literal box? I know! I'll dump all the files into one large .zip! That's like a digital box. Or maybe settle for a folder titled “Natural Life Essence & Co.”, print off a screen-cap of it, then hang it somewhere near my CD shelves. It'd be just like saying you hung out with celebrities, by surrounding yourself with cardboard cut-outs of them. Or Calvin and Hobbes hanging out on top of a ladder when they're told they can't climb trees.

It feels a tad odd starting a near-complete dive into Juan Giacovino's project in this manner. When confronted with so many sound samples of equal value and quality, however, I had a Hell of a time deciding what select few I wanted to indulge in. So I bought them all. And hey, if I didn't think there was enough diversity among these eighty-something releases to warrant individual review of them, I wouldn't have done the deed. At least, I hope there is... *eyes ten volumes of Caravan Of Healing Sounds with trepidation*

And thusly, by arbitrary alphabetical decree, I'm kicking this off with one of Juan's more recent offerings, Uncharted Lands. With cover art of frozen wastes in greytone, this looks to be another exploration of chilly soundscapes from N:L:E, a frequent theme within his archives. And space music, if I'm honest. And micro-fauna, come to think of it. Not to mention macro-biomes. But arctic regions, that, definitely.

The titular opener greets us with soft, velvety pads, eventually giving way to a groovy little downbeat, and oh my God! How wonderful it is to hear rhythm again after so many hours of ambient music! Erm, anyhow, Uncharted Lands adds in fuzzy, dubby effects and a sliding synth lead, almost growing epic in an unassuming way. The Desolate Land Mix at the other end of this EP stretches things out more by remaining mostly beatless, save ambient techno patter towards the end.

Between those two tracks is a three-part excursion called Expedition Caravan (Juan loves his caravans). Part 1 is the sort of moody, slowbeat dub techno that Ultimae Records has made their domain as of late, though at least not quite so vaporous. Part 2 strips things down more, letting layers of voice pads wash the sparse rhythms like waves against a shore, while Part 3 opts for more focus on groove, melodic harmony staying in the background before finally strutting its stuff down the stretch. At over fourteen minutes though, it does drag a little before getting to the goods.

Still, a solid first second impression into the N:L:E oeuvre. Only a couple dozens more to go.