High Contrast - Tough Guys Don't Dance (Original TC Review)

Hospital Records: 2007

(2016 Update)
'Tough guys' may not dance, but only when we're dishin' out some tough, critical love, eh? I mean, wow, I could be a hard ass on trance in the TranceCritic days, but I sure wasn't giving High Contrast much slack here. I think the problem was, listening to this album a few times over as I typically did before reviewing something back then, a number of these tracks quickly grew too repetitive for my liking. Having some years and musical distance from this album though, Tough Guys Don't Dance is actually a good rollickin' time, great for a dunk into super-fun liquid funk before getting out of an overcrowded pool. Alright, I was also parroting some of the d'n'b narrative I'd read at the time regarding Hospital Records, but that label's endured remarkably well in the ensuing decade, remaining steadfast in its uplifting manifesto even as different trends come and go.

As for High Contrast, this was his last album, a shame. What, that record a few years ago, with the dubstep and the pointless, weak-sauce collaboration with Tiësto and Underworld? Whatever is this Bizarro Earth you speak of? Does Donald Trump rule your realm?)


IN BRIEF: The soul is in danger of becoming stagnant.

Credit must be given where it is due. Drum ‘n’ bass was in serious danger of growing far too self-serious after the turn of the century, even for itself. Then along comes some young upstart named Lincoln Barrett and, along with the Hospital Records crew, reminded the world the genre can be filled with plenty of uplifting optimistic vibes too. Soaring strings, singing soul sistas, and Robert Owens invaded the realm of jungle militants, and for a while it seemed as though liquid funk would be the future of ‘dee’bee’.

That was half a decade ago [ed: even longer now!]. Obviously the big Hospital take-over didn’t quite occur, but still they carved out their niche and have stayed the course with their sound... and stayed... and stayed... and now that just isn’t enough.

Yes, folks, it’s true. Rumors and buzzes from the underground abound that liquid funk has become played out; is past its prime; in need of a rest; if not, at least some re-invention. The same ol’ formula can only carry a scene for so long before predictable production becomes too common, and this sub-genre of jungle is decidedly drawing nearer to such a period. With two highly regarded albums already under his belt, can Mr. Barrett prove there’s still plenty of life in the girl on his third High Contrast full-length?

Forever And A Day makes a strong argument for the case. With rhythms that gets the heart racing and orchestral swells that set the spirit soaring, this is liquid funk at peak proficiency. In many other forms of music, a lyric like “and the birds are singing pretty little songs” would get snickered out of the scene, but in the hands of High Contrast, he makes it exhilarating. Top notch stuff, my friends.

Nothing else comes close to that track on Tough Guys Don’t Dance, but Barrett shouldn’t be expected to hit a grand-slam every time. However, although each tune he crafts is easily above average, very few of them are a home-run either. It’s fine for a few tracks into the album, but by the time Eternal Optimist and Chances roll along, the template has become far too predictable and lacks the panache that made Forever And A Day such a winner.

The trouble lies in the fact a lot of Lincoln’s tricks are over-familiar now, and he doesn’t do much on this album to shake the formula up. You’d think a producer of his caliber wouldn’t dare be caught going through the motions, yet it honestly does sound like he is with his liquid funk offerings. The r’n’b divas, the soulful crooners (mostly J’Nay in this case), the smooth rolling basslines, the 2-step breakbeats, and the orchestral samples: almost all of it sounds like it could have been produced at any point in his career, and without the care to treat them as something more than just another tune to rinse out by the Hospital Records roster. Fine and dandy for brief one-offs at a club night, sure, but unfortunately rather stale in an album context, especially one’s third.

There are moments where he does deter from the template, and unsurprisingly these tracks are amongst the album’s highlights. Opener If We Ever may have most of liquid funk’s requisite trappings, but instead relies on some old school jungle rhythms which are good fun. Elsewhere, Nobody Gets Out Alive adds a twist to things by making use of a bassline that pounds rather than rolls and some old blues sample that wouldn’t have sounded too out of place on Moby’s Play. The two atmospheric cuts - Tread Softly and The Ghost Of Jungle Past - although quite stuck in the 90s, are lush. As for his fiercer offerings like Sleepless, Metamorphosis, and Pink Flamingos, they’re hit or miss, and ultimately serving as little better than breaks in the liquid funk monotony.

Hn. Reading this back, and it seems like I’m just bitching about liquid funk, when truthfully I do enjoy the stuff. It is, after all, quite uplifting music. However, its mostly singular execution on Mr. Barrett’s third doesn’t offer as much depth as you’d expect given how nifty the surface often presents itself. Still, Tough Guys Don’t Dance is hardly a write-off. The highlights are stellar, the atmospheric detours are pleasant, and tracks like Kiss Kiss Bang Bang and Everything’s Different are class, if somewhat formulaic.

I’ve heard High Contrast criticized as being drum ‘n’ bass for newbies, which is rather unfair (jump-up still holds the crown for that distinction) but I can see where such critics are coming from. Lincoln’s stuff is very accessible for the uninitiated junglist and would prefer keeping a party active rather than challenge the listener. However, by sticking to such simple tried and tested tactics, his appeal won’t last should you explore the realm of jungle further, as producers with far greater tricks abound. If you have a passing fancy for liquid funk, Tough Guys Don’t Dance will serve you find, but seasoned vets of the scene may be disappointed.

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

Jonny L - Sawtooth

XL Recordings: 1997

Some days, you just need that drum’n’bass hit. Seeing the multitude of memes declaring this biological fact as gospel, I know I’m not alone in this sentiment, though my cravings don’t run as deep as some junglists go. However, it’s enough that every so often I must pick up some proper rudeness for my brain’s rhythm centers, a prospect that’s not as easy as it once t’was. For sure it’s simple enough finding any ol’ DJ set or label rinseout online, but I gotta’ sate that collector’s itch too, and finding good d’n’b albums is always a tricky proposition, especially when one wanders back to the ‘90s for their fix. Some are too damn obvious (Goldie, Roni Size) or too damn expensive (Logical Progression), but with a little digging, something unexpected can surface.

Not that Jonny L is an unknown entity, but I never pegged him an album guy. Like most d’n’b producers, he made his living on the singles market, signing early to XL Recordings way back when he was still making rave hardcore. As with many, he moved into jungle’s domain, navigating the scene’s numerous splintering roads with remarkable ease. There’s an atmospheric style out there now? Here’s a pair of future classics in Tychonic Cycle and I Let U then. And that emergent tech-step vibe one Grooverider was champion-sounding? Jonny L became one of the genre’s leaders, tracks like Piper, S4, and Wish U Had Something among the earliest anthems spit out. His style was something of a bridge between the darkcore ruffness of the older days, and the precision production of Photek’s work, leading to tracks that hit in hard bursts as different drum patterns rotated in and out. Also, heavy sci-fi influences, dragging the junglists out of the grimy London warehouses and into, um, grimy warehouses on Mars. Can you step to these Martian moves?

I knew all this prior to hearing Jonny L’s debut LP, Sawtooth, as I heard most of these songs elsewhere. In fact, I have at least half the tracks here on other CDs (including Treading) hence why I figured Mr. Lisners more an EP guy. I never considered his first album had been raided for so many tunes! Does this make Sawtooth an unheralded classic the likes we should prop up every chance given?

Ah, not quite. For a ‘90s d’n’b album, it’s solid enough, though if you don’t fancy the tech-step stylee, there isn’t much else to vibe on here. For sure the two atmospheric cuts are mint, and ol’ Jonny throws a single swerve in mid-track Detroit, a tune that clearly wants to be an old-school electro homage, but comes out sounding like technobass instead. Wait, that’s awesome! Other tracks like Moving Thru Air, Two Of Us and Obedience stick to the tech-step sound, good tracks in of themselves though a little redundant when taking in Sawtooth as a whole. Yeah, about as cliché a d’n’b album nitpick as it gets, that one.

Laurent Garnier - Tales Of A Kleptomaniac (Original TC Review)

[PIAS] Recordings: 2009

(2016 Update:
You just had to make another dig at minimal, didn't you, 2009 Sykonee? Boy, does that quip ever date this review now - like, who gives a rat's poop about Luciano anymore? Meanwhile, Garnier's still here, doing his thing as he's always done, even releasing another album this past year. This reads a bit gushy to my current eyes, but its no less reverent than any number of fans and journo-folks who've put hundreds to thousands of words detailing the Frenchman's career and class.

Unfortunately for this album though, it hasn't gotten any easier of a listen as time's worn on. For all the care and skill Mr. Garnier put into these tracks, they create such an erratic listen with a traditional playthrough that it's difficult for anything to stick to the ol' memory membranes. Funny enough, Laurent mentioned shortly after releasing Tales Of A Kleptomaniac that he couldn't even stand listening to these tracks anymore, having spent so much time on them and all. Man, I know what that's like with some of my own writing, but I can definitely hear how some of this music's been micro-managed almost to a fault. Gotta' keep that muse fresh with new ideas, yo'.)


IN BRIEF: Does Garnier have anything left to prove?

No, don’t actually answer that rhetorical question; just ponder it for a moment. Then, once you’ve finished pondering, keep those thoughts to yourself. If you do that, then you might be able to dive into his new album, Tales Of A Kleptomaniac, without any of the ungodly expectations the Frenchman has become saddled with. Just accept the fact he likes to make music, and feel fortunate enough he’s successful enough to share that over-indulgent muse of his with you.

The simple fact of the matter is Garnier has established himself as the music-fan’s producer and DJ, thus has earned all the plaudits that comes with such respect; however, this also leaves his body of work incredibly daunting for the uninitiated, with very few clear-cut crossover singles to his name (The Man With The Red Face being the most obvious exception, especially recently). With a discography that is far from newbie-friendly, Garnier has been kept somewhat on the outskirts of top acts, even though he is a recognizable name. This new album isn’t likely to change that, which will probably suit his fanbse just fine. But, y’know, it’d be nice of him to, like, get the same kind of praise the Luciano Villalawtins of the world do, just once in a while, hm? Ah well.

So now that we’ve effectively frightened away the uninitiated, is there anything of interest for the Garnier connoisseur? You bet! In fact, there’s almost too much here. In being such a hoarder of musical styles, ol’ Laurent has assembled an incredibly eclectic collection of songs, such that I can’t see folks getting their vibe on to every track.

For instance, you may be totally down for more of his jazz-fusion techno-stomp, supplied here in the form of Gnanmankuodjii; but are you willing to go even deeper down the jazz tunnel, into an acid lounge with Garnier himself providing spoken dialogue in Dealing With The Man? Or perhaps you’re looking forward to some vintage dark trance vibes with Desirless that ol’ Laurent was known for way back in the day. That may sound good, but perhaps not the two hip-hop cuts - one with French lyrics, no less - if that isn’t your thing. Or maybe the thought of him doing dub reggae with Food For Thought makes you all giddy (*cough*); might you have the opposite reaction to Bourre Pif, a dabbling into drum’n’bass? Wait, what? That last one doesn’t make any sense. How could someone like one rhythm-heavy form of music but not another? Never mind that last one.

Getting back to the album, the point is there be a lot of musical variety on here, some of which may not be your cup of brie. However, it is all finely produced and enjoyable to those with at least a broad sense of taste -allow me to provide an example. Although I know it can be musical journalistic suicide to openly admit to not knowing much about a particular genre, I think you can all forgive me saying that I am quite clueless when it comes to French hip-hop - I've heard no more than half-a-dozen tunes in my life. Yet, despite not getting much out of Freeverse (Part 1) on an intellectual level, I still enjoy it on a ‘dumb’ level; that is, purely on what the music on hand offers. You get that sense of musical competence from Garnier on every cut here, and though you may not be compelled to suddenly start checking hundreds of French hip-hop acts out there, Garnier at least provides you with something that won’t have you quickly reaching for the skip button.

That said, there isn’t much on here that would convince one to check out these musical genres further either. Food For Thought is a great dub tune …for being on a Laurent Garnier album; fans of jazz-fusion, techno, and, yes, even French hip-hop would probably say similar things.

Tales Of A Kleptomaniac is another solid outing from Garnier, and the music’s far too good to give it anything lower than an 8. However, in allowing his muse to rob the kitchen of everything but the plumbing, it unfortunately lacks an elevating, crossover classic. The veteran Frenchman remains as daunting for the newbie as ever.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2009. © All rights reserved.

Maschine - Maschine

Psychonavigation Records: 2011

You know who this label's reminding me of? Shadow Records. Not so much for the music style, though both clearly have a thing for genres that defined the '90s. Right, that makes all the sense with Shadow since they started in the '90s, but they carried on into the new millennium with one foot still firmly planted in the prior decade too. What I mean though, is both Shadow and Psychonavigation Records seem to love scouring their nearby lands for obscure, unheralded talent that fits their musical manifesto. Shadow was clearly in love with sounds Ninja Tune nurtured (being their short-lived American distributor didn't hurt), and Psychonavigation comes off more fond of Warp, Apollo, and other assorted seminal IDM labels. Still, this is the only similarity between the two – ain't no way an album from one or the other might share some stylistic sound. Nope, no how. Except now, brown cow.

So here’s Maschine, who’s self-titled debut on Psychonavigation Records reminds me of something Shadow Records might have put out in one of their more adventurous efforts. There’s jazzy-hop beats. There’s snazzy d’n’b rhythms. There’s deep rumbling dubby bass. There’s an undeniable inner city cool running through this album... for about the first half anyway. The back-half goes more vintage braindance territory, thus here’s your obligatory namedrops for comparison (Autechre, Aphex Twin, Squarepusher). Almost kind of a shame, if I’m honest, as I was much preferring the Amon Tobin leaning cuts from earlier in the album. Still, best of both worlds from Maschine, his tracks unique enough to stand out from a plenty overstuffed IDM market while retaining that retro ‘90s charm. Oh, we’re not allowed to called ‘90s music retro yet? C’mon, it’s been two decades; the ‘80s can’t keep hogging the word forever.

As for the man behind Maschine, Lord Discogs draws a total blank, but the liner notes provide a few tidbits of info. Mostly a live PA act headed by Eoin Coughlan and Aza Hand, though primarily fronted by Eoin at the time of this release. The jazz influences aren’t accidental either, Mr. Coughlan having been brought up in an environment surrounded by the music - his mother's apparently big on the Irish jazz scene, which is fascinating to me that such a scene even exists. Overall, Maschine sounds like the sort of act that burbles in local obscurity for years (Vancouver’s got lots of them), and likely would have remained as such had Psychonavigation not given them a little extra promotional bump. Interestingly, they retain Prime honors for the ‘Maschine’ handle at Lord Discogs. Has there seriously never been another act to use the name before Eoin and Aza entered the database? I mean, you’d think someone in the German techno scene would have claimed it in all these years. Someone with a fuller discography than this Maschine’s. Well, if not, props to you, lads. Good album too, one worth a few additional playthroughs for those days remembering when Autechre used to write melodies.

ACE TRACKS: November 2015

Well, that was a fun little trip through music seldom covered here. It was fun, wasn’t it? Well, whatever the case, you are rest assured I won’t be doing something like that again, at least as my music collection currently stands. Oh, there will definitely still be the odd quirky, week-long venture into the unexpected, but nothing that entails so much country and rock ‘best of’ CDs. Who even buys such things anymore? It’s all about the online stream, mass torrent dump, or collector’s box sets these days. Anyhow, since I’ve done a technical alphabetical backtrack in my reviewing queue, I’ll be going through another little string of releases before resuming my endless sojourn through ‘S’. Nothing much, just a few DJ-Kicks mixes I picked up on the cheap. The rest of my backlog will have to wait for after revisiting System 7’s debut, which should come around before the year’s out. I hope.

Until then, here’s the ACE TRACKS I’ve enjoyed this past November.



Full track list here.

MISSING ALBUMS:
David Bickley - Still Rivers At Night
Purl - Stillpoint
Jesper Dahlbäck - Stockholm Mix Sessions & 2

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 0%
Percentage Of Rock (and country): 23%
Most “WTF?” Track: Dr. Hook & The Medicine Show - Freakin’ At The Freaker’s Ball (should be an anthem at every fet-life event)

Reviewing so much different non-electronic music probably doesn’t do any favors for a blog called Electronic Music Critic. On the other hand, it does make putting these playlists together more fun, finding out what unexpected music makes for remarkable bedfellows. Why obviously moody drone ambient must follow (Don’t Fear) The Reaper!

A shame some of the more obscure ambient didn’t make the Spotify cut, but there’s a decent enough assortment of tunes throughout this to keep one engaged, plus a big ol' chunk of ambient at the end. You can’t beat a combination of Faithless, M.I.K.E., Sub Focus, and Loverboy for your instant earworm love. And hey, a little dub techno thrown in don’t hurt either, eh?

Sub Focus - Sub Focus (2015 Update)

RAM Records: 2009

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.)

I was dreading hearing Sub Focus' debut album again, despite the generally positive ‘dumb fun’ feels I recall initially having. Like, was I once forgiving of cheesy moments or generic tune writing because the beats or hooks hit me in a good mood before? Or had I been absent of such questionable music long enough for a quick dip in and out of the Fromage Pool, before retreating back to the safe, comforting confines of the Serious Music Sauna. As I age, that pool looks ever less inviting, sending cold bitter chills through my spine at the mere thought of dunking a toe within. At least, that's how the story's supposed to go. I dunno, maybe one year all that is happy hardcore will consume my everlasting being until the day I've raved into my grave.

Still, despite his incremental forays towards main stage festival fodder, Sub Focus has remained a popular name within drum 'n' bass' fold. It probably didn't hurt that, even in his early years, Nick Douwma’s sound was nicely accessible, never so rough-n-tumble or weirdly abstract to chase away recently converted junglists. They were ready for something more than Pendulum, but not that much more. You’d think that’d get him disowned by hardliners, yet I’ve talked to many veteran d’n’b heads that still look forward to a Sub Focus set. He’s somehow found that sweet spot of keeping a foot in each side of the scene. Probably doesn’t hurt he’s completely up front and honest with his poppier dalliances, always a plus in the almighty Respect Game. Sure, make your token electro house track, we’ll patiently wait it out for another rockin’ banger.

Sure enough, once I got Sub Focus playing again, I was quickly swept back in by the fun vibes Mr. Douwma gives us …for about half the album anyway. Between the heavy hitters (Let The Story Begin, World Of Hurt, Rock It) and the headier moments (Follow The Light, Last Jungle, Deep Space), you have a solid collection of d’n’b that goes down the earholes nice and easy. By the way, is it just me, or is that a riff on the Nightmare On Elm Street theme in Deep Space? Probably just a coincidence, but I can’t help but think of Freddy …In Space! when I hear it, a movie that should never, ever, be made.

As with my original listen though, this album tanks hard following the silly speed garage of Move Higher. Not just because of my low tolerance of that genre either, as the jungle cuts in the back-half simply aren’t as dope as the opening salvo, save the spacey Triple X. And, wait a moment, is that a chill-out dubstep anthem at the very end? Wow, how did I miss that before? They weren’t that common in 2009.

Overall, Sub Focus has held up fine. The things I don’t like are due to genre bias, but that can be said for the tunes I still dig too.

Dieselboy - A Soldier's Story

Moonshine Music: 1999

Few DJs are as influential in America's jungle scene as Dieselboy. There were some respectable names, sure, but as most d'n'b trends were dictated by the hierarchy of the UK, any rinser in the lands of eagles were obligated to follow suit. For the most part, so did one Damien Higgins, but as tech-step of yore started its morph into darkstep of yaye, the Dieslely One somehow turned those aggressive sounds into his own, rising to the high ranks of all jungle jocks throughout the Western Hemisphere. Few could match his furious mixing skills and relentless track selection, often hoarding all the best, unreleased material from the genre's elite (Technical Itch, Decoder, Dom & Roland, etc.). Of course, it didn't hurt he was among the first to truly push darkstep as jungle's future, setting himself apart from his contemporary late adopters. Savvy move on his part, that particular style still finding plenty of fans fifteen years on.

Making his debut with America’s former preeminent electronic music label Moonshine Music is A Soldier’s Story ...kinda’. Though much of Dieselboy’s early career was marked by the mixtape circuit, he released a couple CDs as well, though most flew well under the radar. One was even released on Philly-based Sixeleven Records, a print almost entirely known for house music. Another came care of Sub Base Records, but as Moonshine handled their distribution, that could technically be considered Mr. Higgins’ first major exposure. But no, this one, right here, right then, was Dieselboy’s proper coming out party for the greater U.S. of A. (plus Canadaland), ready to stand toe-to-toe with other American favourites like AK1200 and DJ Dara. He, um, didn’t quite knock it out of the park.

Oh, A Soldier’s Story definitely is a manifesto on Dieselboy’s part, coming in early with the burgeoning neurofunk style before letting a few Tech’ Itch cuts drop serious damage on your ears. Jump up is dead. Jazzstep is dead. All the old jungle genres are dead; obey your darkstep overlords. Jonny L and Danny Breaks can join in the celebration feast though. Some of the scene’s newer blood also make appearances with DJ Friction, Markus Intalex (or ‘Mark Da Intallex’ as he’s credited here), and, um, Kosheen. Hey, it was Decoder’s pet, that group, and we at least get a proper fierce remix on Yes Man for that cut. It’s also about as ‘vocal’ as A Soldier’s Story gets – Dieselboy ain’t having none of that sing-along E-Z Rollers anthemy shite, mate.

So a solid set in the darkstep mold, but that’s pretty much all it is straight through, little variation or twists thrown our way. That’s fine if you just want a pummelling CD, but a strong, memorable mix knows when to drop tangents without losing flow. Some might suggest that’s just the way Dieselboy does things, but his follow-up mix for Moonshine, System_Upgrade, did provide those spicy variants, making for a much stronger CD in the process. Damn, wish I still had that one.

Photek - Solaris

Virgin: 2000

Photek’s Solaris is almost legendary in how it divided a jungle nation. It didn’t have to be so. Drum ‘n’ bass was in fine shape at the turn of the millennium, though could have used more of Mr. Parkes’ refined approach to the craft of intelligent tech-step drum programming. Despite a few doing their own spin on the Photek stylee, (word to the Source Direct crew, yo'), other producers weren’t replicating it en masse. Still, for as generally healthy the d'n'b scene was, it had lost much of the commercial and critical clout it once earned in the '90s, Mr. Parkes' absence perhaps partly responsible for those dwindling times. That junglists were expecting- nay, counting upon another Modus Operani to remind the general club 'n' rave populace of their chosen sound's supreme standing is understandable. No less so, then, the betrayal many felt when Photek said nuts to all that, going his own way down paths no true junglists ever dared ventured.

An ocean and sky blue cover notwithstanding, fans had to suspect something was up when lead single Terminus dropped. Also the opener on Solaris, it’s a seriously funky outing with banging and clanking drum work, sounding more like some of Orbital’s output than much of Photek’s prior work (seriously though, that bass drop in the middle!). Infinity was more in line with the sort of tech-step d’n’b heads enjoyed from Mr. Parkes though, so perhaps the full album would offer up more like it. Oh, such innocent thoughts those were.

Second track Junk carries on with the Terminus style, though creeping much closer to techno’s realm than Photek had wandered before. Then Glamourama hits and, oh my God, it’s a house beat! How dare he! How dare he! How dare he? Wait, why is my head bobbin’? Ergh, argh, must. Resist. Deep. Groove.

Haha, foolish junglist, Photek has you in his house clutches now, and to keep you there, here’s Mine To Give, as vintage a Chicago throwback as you could get in the year 2000, including a guest vocal from Robert Owens, a singer featured on many classic Trax Records tracks. As if throwing a bone to the ‘deebee’ faithful, Can’t Come Down gets back to the d’n’b side of things, though on a much chiller scale than anything heard in the Photek discography before. Was he daring LTJ Bukem to play one of his records? The second half of Solaris isn’t nearly as dynamic as the first, if anything flickering down with more claustrophobic house (Solaris) and trip-hop (Halogen, Lost Blue Heaven), but hoo, what an impression side one imparted.

Of course, given this would be the last Photek album for over a decade, the vitriol leveled on Solaris faded, folks wondering if he’d ever drop another LP again. Mr. Parkes would occasionally return to jungle in that time, and his genre explorations garnered him more respect abroad for taking such a chance with his music, succeeding even in the face of predictable backlash.

Various - Shadow: Hard Sessions

Shadow Records: 2001

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

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

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

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

ACE TRACKS: June 2015

Epic road trip was epic. Didn’t listen to too much new material while driving about Western America though, as the man behind the wheel, my father, typically doesn’t care much for that techno stuff. And even the sort he doesn’t mind is often far too chill for long stretches of driving across empty desert roads in Nevada and California. I tried one of my favorite CDs though, Tiga’s American Gigolo - he barely tolerated while it played, eventually quipping right after it played, “That was painful.” *sigh* So it goes with the generation gap, but I sure had no problem enjoying the Yes, Billy Idol, and Beatles albums we brought. I wonder if he might have liked some of the Aphex Twin found in ACE TRACKS: JUNE 2015?


Full track list here.

MISSING ALBUMS:
Various - The Secret Life Of Trance: Episode 2
ADNY - Selections: 1997-2000

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 7%
Percentage Of Rock: 0%
Most “WTF?” Track: Not even Richard D. James is that weird in this playlist.

This month was pretty much a Selected Ambient Works and Sci-Files showcase, what with a two-week gap and all. Funny enough, I still managed more content than June of two years past – guess it helps focusing on a string of singles rather than several multi-disc releases. While I’ve no doubt folks wouldn’t mind hearing some of these classics again, I mixed things up a bit with another alphabetical arrangement. Hear all your favorites, but in a different order now!

Underworld - Second Toughest In The Infants

TVT Records: 1996

Also known as that album everyone bought expecting to find Born Slippy on. Then they were disappointed to discover Born Slippy wasn't on this album, and demand grew for the biggest single of Underworld's career be added. So they did, shuffling it off to a bonus disc in select countries like South Korea, Japan, and eventually as a re-issue in the band's native UK. Us folks here in the Americas, however, never got that bonus disc, forced to enjoy Born Slippy in its original EP format or as the opener of the Trainspotter soundtrack. And you know what, we're totally fine with that, yo'. If Underworld had intended Born Slippy as part of the Second Toughest In The Infants experience, they'd have included it as part of the original album package. It's not their fault they underestimated that track's massive appeal. Besides, there were other options to hear it anyway (including Top 40 radio!). Nay, best to take in this album as intended - we're tote's fine without that bonus CD here in North America, really!

Of course, once folks got past that Born Slippy exclusion, they realized Second Toughest In The Infants is a great piece of Underworld musicianship even without it. Dubnobasswithmyheadman was genre defining, but it mostly stuck to its proggy groove throughout; later, Beaucoup Fish settled for a mellower vibe, an LP fully intended for the home market whether folks wanted it or not. This second outing in the Emerson years finds the group venturing into scenes that would normally clash in the hands of others, yet melts together in a fashion only Underworld could make their own.

First though, that opener! The Juanita-Kiteless combo is already brilliant, and was rightfully the group’s killer start in all their late ‘90s tours. Weaving in a little extra acid action with To Dream Of Love only makes the first sixteen minutes of this album that much more mint, but I’ll never tire of those soaring synths, robot voices, or echoing guitar stabs. Why yes, this is my favourite piece of Underworld action, even over all the recognized classics.

And how do you follow one of the greatest starts to an album in your catalogue? By going jazzstep and trip-hop for another fifteen minute medley (Banstyle-Sappy’s Curry), of all things. Look, it was 1996, and those were the cool new genres to toy around with. Speaking of, how about them d’n’b crazy-crazy-crazy beats in Pearl’s Girl, eh? This just might be my second-favourite Underworld track, if you don’t include their remixes.

With so much awesome on Second Roughest Of The Chill’ins, it’s easy to forget the other solid tunes on offer. There’s some vintage Underworld cool-groove with Confusion The Waitress, more pummelling techno action with Rowla, a mellower techno outing with Air Towel, and something of a New Wave throwback in chill-out closer Stagger. It’s a well rounded album from a well-rounded group, and no excuses on your part to not be playing this right now.

Eat Static - Science Of The Gods

Mammoth Records: 1997

I may have pre-hyped this album a bit much, what with so many namedrops in past Eat Static reviews. For all I know, Science Of The Gods was unanimously rejected by the psy-trance faithful, seen as a betrayal of all that the goa scene held true. The hippies and techno crusties were in no need of their chosen heroes getting in on that surging d’n’b action, and junglists were even more insular, waging their own war over classic Amen Break darkside productions versus the new tech-step hotness. There’s no way these two disparate scenes should have any business interacting. It’s poison. It’s toxic. It’s catastrophic. You don’t cross the scenes!

So of course Eat Static said nuts to all that and delivered some of the gnarliest d’n’b I’ve ever heard. In adding the tricks they developed performing goa and psy, these aliens don’t so much invade the junglist’s realm as take some artefacts for themselves for display on their own world. The main tune off here, Interceptor, features a pummelling tech-step rhythm with thick, chunky kicks and a grimy acid bassline, serving as a rudder for all manner of sci-fi sound effects, knob tweaks, drum fills, and general psychedelic craziness to hang off. If Eat Static made this track specifically as a tie-in with the RTS game Conquest Earth, it’s about the only saving grace in that forgotten crap game. Come, bask in its glorious ‘90s CGI alien invasion video. It’s like watching a demo episode of Babylon 5!

Two other tracks on Science Of The Gods work the d’n’b angle, Dissection going deeper with Amen Break business with their usual assortment of sci-fi sounds and noises. Following a brief interlude, they tentatively dip their toes in jazzstep’s calmer waters on Bodystealers before going full-in with experimental beatcraft of micro-bleeps and reverb effects. Can’t ever say these guys never ventured where no others dared, even if this portion grows overindulgent after a couple minutes.

For all the supposed talk of this album straying from Eat Static’s core audience, folks forget that’s only three tracks out of eight, the remaining attending to the needs of their loyal outdoor followers as expertly as ever. The opening titular cut is all kinds of trippy fun, giving us a dirty bit of twisted acid funk before seemingly falling off the rails. Nay, it’s just the duo playing, soon enough unleashing a beast of acid techno for the remainder. Elsewhere, Kryll floats about with a spacey, proggy vibe, Spawn will kick the shit out of you, and Contact leans way old-school goa, sounding like a leftover from the Abduction days. Finally, The Hanger is one seriously dubby, low-riding monster of a track – imagine Predator cruising the cosmos with blunts billowing against the stars, feelin’ chill after a successful hunt.

I’ve no more else to say about Science Of The Gods. It may look campy, but that’s always been Eat Static’s charm, fooling the suspicious with the weird before unleashing their face-melting weaponry upon your ears.

µ-Ziq - Royal Astronomy

Virgin: 1999

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

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

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

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

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

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

Calibre - Overflow

Signature Records: 2008

In the end, music reviewers and critics just want to write stories, this desire manifesting in many ways. Sometimes it’s by chronicling the narratives that developed within scenes, other times coming up with (and even dictating) narratives that are currently emerging. On a smaller scale, we enjoy deciphering potential stories that may lurk within pieces of music, giving praise to artists who compose albums that contain clearly defined arcs that we can translate into flowery purple prose. The double-LP format in particular is like catnip to the storyteller-in-reviewer's-fedora, an almost guarantee the musician(s) who released it had a grand opus in mind that simply could not be contained in typical single-serving music formats.

Sometimes though, collections of tracks are just collections of tracks, no real rhyme or reason to their being there beyond the necessary evil of the music industry (‘tis the only way the consumers can consume your product). Gads, what a boring story that is. I mean, look at this release from Calibre. Hell, look at nearly any release from Calibre. Mr. Dominick Martin doesn’t skimp on his output, almost exclusively going the double-LP route for much of his early career. Even when he finally cut back to single-CDs in recent years, he still released material at such a clip he could have maintained the double-disc format. Yet, for all this music, damned if there’s much to talk about.

Yeah, yeah, I’m only going by Overflow on this assumption – maybe the Shelflifes or Musique Concrete are more comprehensive as a listening experience. These two CDs though, I’m struggling to say much about them, beyond the basic particulars you expect from any run-of-the-mill review. Ah, let’s get that out of the way at least.

Overflow is a 2CD collection of smooth, jazzy drum ‘n’ bass from Calibre, a prolific and highly respected name within that scene. Eighteen tracks make up this bulk. Some are more on an atmospheric tip (Savannah Heat, Big Bang, TV On), some bang with the tech-step business (Lo Note, Suddenly, Beat Goes On), some find their liquid funkiness (Honeypot, Overeaction, So Blue), and some aren’t even d’n’b in the slightest (Reach You Everywhere, Slums, Gage). A good third of these tracks feature vocals, sung in an unobtrusive, urban-jazz stylee. Every tune is class, finely produced and enjoyable. You can also play everything in Overflow in any order you like, their sequence having no bearing in how the album flows from beginning to end (recommended if you’ve gotten the MP3 version). Sometimes when I’ve had my whole music library on Shuffle and a Calibre tune crops up, I’ll mistake it for a Mist:i:cal tune, which isn’t surprising since Martin’s a part of that group. The perfect track summing up Overflow’s overall vibe is Alone In A Crowd. It sounds like much of what I’ve described above.

Man, see what I’m talking about? This album is perfectly fine on the listening front, but dear Lord does it ever sap my inspiration to write about it.

Grooverider - Mysteries Of Funk

Columbia: 1998

For most of the '90s, I was incredibly ignorant of drum 'n bass. Though I knew of it by way of occasional crossover tunes like Goldie's Inner City Life and... um... hmm. Okay, so that was about all I knew of. Fortunately, the ‘deebee’ scene couldn’t be contained forever, and for a furious four months at the end of ’98, jungle was about all my pals and I listened to – mostly jump-up jungle, mind you, but it was a start. And yet, I felt something lacking in those two-step rhythms and bomber-style basslines - something clever, something with heart and soul, and something not so gimmicky. Putting my ace electronic music discovery skills to task, I dug around for a name that could fill that gap: asking experts, reading magazine, searching chat rooms, making the Vancouver pilgrimage...

Well, no, that’s bullshit. Grooverider’s Mysteries Of Funk was in fact a Christmas gift from a music warehouse working aunt. She knew I liked that ‘dance music’ stuff, and I’d get a tiny bundle most years. Why she included Grooverider’s debut album that winter of ’98, I’ll never know, but damn if it wasn’t exactly what I needed to hear from d’n’b.

The tale of Mr. Bingham’s only proper LP is one of years upon years of anticipation. Grooverider had been instrumental in nurturing jungle’s formative darkside era, and when it grew stale, became a leading figure in a new style, tech-step. Most of this was accomplished through his DJing, though he’d release the odd single and remix along the way too. It was enough to get folks itching at the chance to hear an album of ‘Rider’s production palette. Luckily, Mr. Bingham had an ace up his sleeve for making Mysteries Of Funk a success; or rather, an Optical in the studio.

Perhaps most surprising about this album is, for a release by a tech-step don’, there’s only a few such tracks. Where’s Jack The Ripper was the main ‘hit’ off here, which doesn’t sound too far off Optical’s typical sound of the time. There’s also Cybernetic Jazz at the start and Starbase 23 at the end, both opting for jazzy grooves and dark ambience before unleashing their feral basslines. Oh yeah, there’s a lot of jazzstep on here too.

Right, jazzstep was the commercial and critical hotness around the time, Goldie leading the way and Roni Size/Reprazent cementing it. Ol’ Groovy also having his hand in there makes sense. With his offerings just as solid as any of the heavy-hitters of the genre, by all means get on that double-bass slaps (On The Double), scat-jazz hijinks (C Funk), muted trumpets (Time & Space), and general nuttiness (Rivers Of Congo) action. Goes great with those fierce rhythms throughout (no, not Fierce; it’s Optical).

Mysterious Of Funk wasn’t a game changer in the d’n’b scene at large, though it did convince me of its potential. It’s also a strong showing from a man that’d earned his stripes. Grooverider’s contribution was good too.

Various - Moving Shadow 99.2

Moving Shadow: 1999

The best way to gauge a label’s swagger is by the number of sub-labels it’s running. Moving Shadow had a few when it started out in the early ‘90s, though most went by the wayside as the old-school hardcore scene faded. By the late ‘90s though, they’d found their mojo again, and set-up Audio Couture on the side. Best as I can tell, it handled their ‘proper’ underground stuff here – tech-dark-steppy-step, or something. It only lasted a couple years before Moving Shadow consolidated its resources again, but it was enough to re-double the label’s presence within the d’n’b scene at large. (side note: sub-labels are also telling of a label on the downward slope if focus is on an entirely different scene, as M.S. did with breaks ‘n’ house pusher Shadow Cryptic; that didn’t go as well)

Thus when Moving Shadow released 99.2, it featured ample material from Audio Couture as a means of additional promotion. I honestly can’t recall how far apart this and 99.1 were released from each other, but it couldn’t have been that much time considering they both feature the same CD-ROM material from Rockstar Games. Ooh! Grand Theft Auto 2! I have that game, though never got further than the second city. Such shit driving mechanics. There’s also Thrasher: Skate And Destroy on here, also known as “Not Tony Hawk”.

Timecode’s CD1 mix doesn’t waste time with acid jazz pleasantries or smooth jazzstep funkiness, picking things up right where 99.1 left off, literally so. 99.1 finished with AK1200 & Danny Break’s novelty ‘smutstep’ cut Deep Porn, and here’s that starlet going on about how “you’re so nasty” right at the start of 99.2. It’s only for five seconds though, and we don’t hear the track again until the very end of this mix. So, wait, is 99.2 a direct continuation of 99.1, or is this CD supposed to repeat itself into a continual loop? I’m confused.

The real first track is Dom & Roland’s remix of Renegade’s Terrorist. Yep, darkstep to kick off, and save a detour into jazzstep’s realm in the middle (gotta get in those E-Z Rollers tracks), this mix is balls to the junglist walls throughout. 99.1 wasn’t the greatest drum ‘n’ bass mix out there, but it at least had a solid arc to it. 99.2 doesn’t let up, which is fine for the floor but wearisome in this context.

Better is the bonus mix on CD2, featuring Omni Trio. It’s only twenty-one minutes long, so just a taste of Mr. Haigh’s smooth, atmospheric sound, but definitely more enjoyable than what goes down on CD1. Okay, fine, there’s a few good tunes in Timecode’s set too: Dom & Roland’s Can’t Punish Me and Aquasky’s Bodyshock come to mind. If I’m reaching for a full-on darkstep rinse-out though, I’ll sooner grab a Dieselboy mix than a Moving Shadow sampler. I suspect the label figured that out too, subsequent Moving Shadow sampler mixes offering stronger diversity than what 99.2 gives us.

Various - Moving Shadow 99.1

Moving Shadow: 1999

The late ‘90s were easily Moving Shadow’s peak years. The home of E-Z Rollers, Omni Trio, Dom & Roland, Flytronix, and Technical Itch, the label provided a full range of credible drum ‘n’ bass tools any self-respecting junglist of the time needed having. And not to be outdone by the majors, good ol’ M.S. even got licensing deals for their roster, especially so for the growing video game market.

If by some chance you still didn’t know about Moving Shadow, sitting snuggly on your local music shop shelves were these bi-yearly sampler discs. For pocket change, you’d get DJ mixes handled by Moving Shadow honcho Timecode (Rob Playford), plus a bundle of CD-ROM material. Though the CD-ROM stuff went by the wayside once internet promotion became the norm, the Moving Shadow samplers kept rolling out for a good while longer even as the label’s influence waned in the following decade.

With 99.1, we’re definitely capturing them at their prime. The main disc presents a solid assortment of jungle genres for the time, plus a little acid jazz business from Flytronix and Omni Trio to kick things off. It’s never a bad thing to show musical diversity in a set, and such smooth vibes mix nicely if you follow it up with jazzstep business. The actually mixing’s not the best though, some transitions held too long, others rushed and clashing. Still, it’s forgivable since we’re dealing with a sampler mix of a single label. Boy, do I ever forgive DJs that self-impose restrictions on themselves, huh.

A brief moment of sci-fi sounds from Omni Trio bridges the early jazz tunes into a furious finish of darkstep roughness for the final half. Quite a bit’s been written how darkstep set the jungle scene off on an aggressive, uninviting road that took years to recover from, but how was anyone to know it during these early days of the sub-genre? Calyx’ Acid Blues, Teebee’s Instant Irradicfication, and Dom & Roland’s Killa Bullet all sounded fresh and exciting as the ‘90s came to a close, and their power hasn’t faltered since. Speaking of power, Technical Itch’s brilliant acid workout Reborn and tech-step beast LED show up here, though are mashed with their surrounding tunes so much, I’d just rather grab Diagnostics for another spin again. Huh, I guess the ‘sampler advertising’ works.

CD2 features a mini-mix of E-Z Rollers material, the biggest stars on Moving Shadow at the time. Eh… okay, maybe because Tough At The Top was ridiculously played out in my neck of the woods, but I could never get into these guys. They had some decent variety, but it seemed everyone just wanted to hear their take on jazzstep, which struck me as Roni Size music for the Aphrodite crowd. Whatever. I’m sure I’d dig their material if I dug into it beyond Weekend World.

As for 99.1, it’s worth a glance in whatever used shop you find it sitting in, but better mixes of this music lie elsewhere.

Coldcut - More Beats + Pieces (2014 Update)

Ninja Tune: 1997

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review and DJ Mag rant.)


Oh, that ‘review’. I almost feel obligated making a 2014 Update about the status of the DJ Mag poll over anything Coldcut related. But no, that’s not what these updates are about. They’re re-examinations of releases years from when I first reviewed them: how they’ve held up, whether a trend they were a part of is still relevant, and adding new thoughts and ideas about the music given the benefit of gained knowledge and wisdom. Also, if the original review was shite, I can make amends with a better one! So no, I will not be going on another DJ Mag tirade in this update. That settled, let’s see what’s new about Coldcut’s More Beats + Pieces EP, what tidbits of info I’ve gleaned all these years later.

Um… well… Let’s see, there’s… Oh, did you know there was a live version of More Beats + Pieces that’s even better than the one on here? Wait, you do know that? Ah, right, Masters Of 1 & 2. Then how about that… thing about… the stuff regarding Coldcut where, uh, you know, did things. Alright, there’s nothing worth adding to a fifteen year old EP that I hadn’t already exhaustively covered. And no, I’m still not listing all the samples. It’d ruin your trainspotting fun.

DJ Mag, then? Fine, DJ Mag, although there’s little to add here either. Some names have changed, but my rant of 2005 holds about as true as it did then - come to think of it, Armin’s fans are still whining when he’s not number one, including this past year’s results. The biggest change that occurred with the poll was running it through Facebook, thus diluting the trance-cracker purity it’d maintained throughout the ‘00s. As a result, David Guetta won, knocking Armin out of top spot and producing one of the all-time hilarious, saddest celebrations of a DJ winning an award ever witnessed. DJ Mag almost always has footage of it removed from YouTube, but if you do stumble upon it, enjoy the mirth.

In general though, DJ Mag’s relevance continues to dwindle despite all their efforts suggesting otherwise. A singular popularity poll no longer carries the weight it once did when Twitter followers, YouTube watches, Soundcloud downloads, and Facebook Likes are a better gauge of what DJ or producer is currently bankable. Sasha hasn’t been on the poll for two years running, yet I highly doubt his stock as a DJ has dwindled in that time.

What’s adorable about all this is DJ Mag knows how bullshit the results are (jokingly exemplified here). Despite running a poll that paints them as curators of EDM’s cheesiest, corporate interests, the editors insist they maintain a culturally relevant rag about electronic music as whole. Perhaps, but are you willing to shell out a few bones monthly to find out? I sure don’t give a rat’s ass what their articles have to say. Why should I, what with such a goofy poll their ongoing legacy?

Various - Montreal Mix Sessions Vol. 3: Dune (Double A & Twist)

Turbo: 1999

Without a doubt, this is among the strangest CDs in Turbo’s catalogue, if not the strangest. For a label that often prides itself on the quirky, that's quite an assumption to make, but keep in mind this DJ mix came out early in Turbo's life, when Tiga was still finding its identity. About all he had going for it was promotion of Montreal acts, and the occasional original production. As you were wont to do as a hip start-up, the Mix Sessions series focused on house and techno, almost unanimously with winning results. There's also a single, solitary drum 'n bass mix, because when you think of Tiga, Turbo, and even Montreal, jungle's always right up there with tech-house and electroclash. Or not.

I’m sure my fellow Canucks from the lands of French have just as vibrant a jungle scene as any major region of Canadaland, but you sure don’t hear much about it. Toronto’s got a huge following, Vancouver’s been respectable for many years, and even the Prairie Provinces earn props from semi-abroad. Quebec, though? Folksy music festivals and hipster dance-punk’s their thing, ain’it? Absolutely not, just ask Double A & Twist about it. Wait, are they still around? Damn you, Lord Discogs, and your occasional incompleteness!

Monsieurs Aaron Siegner and Oliver Sasse make up the duo, also going by the name Dune (no, not the happy hardcore act). Wait, is this the same Oliver Sasse of German trance Rodd-Y-Ler micro-fame? The Lord That Knows All suggests so, but I’m having my doubts, such wildly incompatible scenes they be. This Sasse, along with Siegner, were vital in developing what jungle scene Montreal had, produced a few tech-step singles for the legendary Reading label Basement Records, and even ran a short-lived label of their own. A decent run in the late ‘90s, then, though little that only the most ardent junglist will be familiar with. Or someone on the pulse of Montreal’s party scene.

So Tiga tapped Dune for the third volume of Montreal Mix Sessions, and the duo gives us a set of primarily tech-step sounds from acts like DJ Slip and Red One, names not exactly high on the minds of junglists even then, but decent enough offerings just the same. Midway through things go atmospheric and jazzsteppy, EZ Rollers’ Retro, PFM’s One And Only, and London Elektricity’s Song In The Key Of Knife sure to get any old-schooler’s nostalgia centres flaring. Dune returns us to the tech-step with a couple of their own tunes, then finishes out rough and nasty with Dom & Roland’s blinding darkstep cut Homicide. Oh, and a ‘classic call-back’ cut from Digital’s Spacefunk at the very end, because why not.

Montreal Mix Sessions 3’s decent enough for a d’n’b CD, though undoubtedly a victim of its surroundings. Turbo’s the last place junglists will look for music, and I can’t say Tiga’s typical following would find much use for Dune either. Best for local enthusiasts or Turbo completists, then.

Photek - Modus Operandi

Virgin Music Canada: 1997

Along with Goldie's Timeless and Roni Size/Reprazent's New Forms, Rupert Parkes' debut Photek LP Modus Operandi established itself among the first drum 'n bass albums you were supposed to have, even if you weren't a d'n'b fan. That was back in the mid-'90s though, when journalist interest in the scene was high, and LP options were low, Modus Operandi one of the few finding any sort of cross-over attention. It didn't hurt Photek's prospects that he signed to Virgin, at the height of 'electronica's promotion abroad. You couldn't miss this album on shelves because the mega-label paid good money for that space.

In hindsight, it's astounding someone saw mainstream marketability in Photek. His style, one of precision tech-step drum programming, spacious sound design, and bleak industrial imagery was so unique for the jungle scene, no one's come near replicating it – those drumfunk guys are heavily inspired by it though. There were far easier sub-sets of '90s d'n'b a casual listener could get into – jump-up, atmospheric, even ragga – so all the more amazing tunes like Ni-Ten-Ichi-Ryu and The Third Sequence got airtime on Amp or R U Receiving, much less Virgin’s blessing.

Also understandable, then, is why so many folks remain forlorn that Parkes hasn't seen much need to return to this style of music. I’m not sure there was anywhere left to go, though; even with an unparalleled sound, Modus Operandi soon runs thin on ideas. Opener The Hidden Camera gets things off on a chill, mysterious note, then we’re off to the sparse tech-step business for a long run of tracks, some of which are almost carbon copies of each other. Seriously, the difference between Smoke Rings and Trans 7 is marginal at best, but since they’re separated by half an album, you barely notice it on a play-through. Between the two tracks, there’s a lot of piercing synths, lean melodies, and cool drum work. Though not a slog, Minotaur, Aleph 1, groovier 124, and minimalist ‘sci-fi-step’ Axiom feels like you’re trapped in a dry, computer wasteland, a single glass of water always just on the horizon of sight. You keep pushing forward, the surrounding scenery at least fascinating as you traverse this desert of tech-step paranoia.

The titular cut offers a smooth slice of acid jazz, and KJZ shows Parkes getting his ambient-techno/braindance/IDM wonk on. The latter’s apparently a tribute to Kirk Degiorgio, an individual I haven’t the slightest clue about, though anyone who uses Beetlejuice as an alias is ace in my books. Then Modus Operandi ends on a limp note with The Fifth Column, the B-side to Ni-Ten-Ichi-Ryu, and nowhere near as interesting as that cut.

Which sums up this album, sadly. Most of Photek’s seminal work is left off here, and despite sounding unlike anything else, Parkes goes through the motions of this style just a bit too often throughout. If anything, it’s typical of most drum ‘n bass LPs of the time, only with a fuck-ton more promotion than his brethren ever received.