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.

Purl - Form Is Emptiness

Archives: 2016

In my mind, Purl will always be a Silent Season guy, for one rather silly reason: his album Stillpoint was the second CD I ever bought from the label. And a humdinger of a record it was, so perfectly capturing such a sublime vibe the dub techno print cultivated at that point. Never mind that would end up being Mr. Cimbrelius' last release with Silent Season, or that he'd only had one other item with them before (Deep Ground). In my mind, Purl was Silent Season, and always will be.

That's obviously completely erroneous though, Ludvig shopping the Purl brand among many labels throughout his career. Heck, even by the time he'd put out Stillpoint, he'd already had more albums out on Dewtone Recordings than any other label. The following year, however, he made his debut with a little ambient print just getting their feet wet, with a similar aesthetic to Silent Season (densely layered dub drones, naturalistic cover art). He'd go on to release many more there, plus their off-shoot print. For all intents, I should be thinking Purl as an Archives guy more than a Silent Season guy. Nope, still can't quite shake it.

Purl being on Archives makes sonic sense, and Form Is Emptiness delivers exactly what you'd expect of the pairing. Ludvig's drone tones are given more prominence, but his dubby rhythms aren't completely jettisoned either. In fact, they're often downright heavy, some serious low-end throb going on in the track Unlearn even as gentle, ethereal pad work weaves through the bass. Elsewhere, Under Mjuka Vatten and Willow (Graft I) keep the dub techno pulse steady, focusing more on the subtle harmonic tones layered overtop. And if final track Terra Lumina, at sixteen minutes in length, didn't make room for at least a little beatcraft during its runtime, it'd be a big waste of sonic space indeed.

Still, Archives is generally more an ambient label than a dub techno one (there's Faint for that), and Form Is Emptiness offers the beatless stuff too. Vissna washes layered strings and synths like waves upon a seashore, while the titular track expands on Vissna's ideas to grander scale. Not to mention most tracks have at least some ambient dithering at their starts, gradually leading in whether there's a rhythm or not. Yep, there's all the things happening that should make this a standout Purl album. Well, almost.

Honestly, I think this is more an Archives issue than a Purl one. The label, while very dependable at providing a particular type of ambient, does tend to sound rather samey. I've brought up this critique before, and it holds true with Form Is Emptiness, a sense of repetitiveness settling in as the album plays out. Having heard Ludvig across many prints now, I can only conclude this is more him making music in the Archives style. Great if you're down for more with a little dub techno rudder, but may not leap out at you as essential as his other releases.

Subtle Shift - Farshadow

Anodize/Harmonic Resonance Recordings: 2014

It was a decade ago that I first wrote up something about Gregory Kyryluk, the Open Canvas album Nomadic Impressions. I didn't really dig much deeper into his discography until covering his Alpha Wave Movement record Somnus, which got me intrigued enough to at least bookmark his Bandcamp. Y'know, for those days I was feeling a little extra splurgy on a Bandcamp Friday sale. And that's how I've now ended up with Farshadow, a pleasant little ambient techno LP that wouldn't sound out of place on any Lee Norris label. In fact, that's kinda' why I scoped this out in the first place, in a roundabout sort of way.

So Farshadow initially released on Anodize. Yes, that short-lived print that seemed to attract just about every modern ambient techno producer worth their salt. Autumn Of Communion released their second album there! Ishqmatics released there! David Morley released there! Lingua Lustra released there! Rapoon released there! And hoo boy, did Mick Chillage ever release a bunch there. The chap that kicked this little label that flamed so bright early, however, was Mr. Kyryluk, the album Transient Broadcasts as Within Reason. A year later came Farshadow, then a year after that, an Alpha Wave Movement release called Earthen. He... didn't release anything else on Anodize, probably because the label ceased operations following 2015. Ah well, time to retain your music rights and re-release that material under your own banner.

“But wait,” you say, “this is credited to Subtle Shift, not Within Reason. What gives?” Had to do a name-change for legal purposes, apparently. What, did Anodize somehow still hold the rights? Seems weird that a derelict print could, but then it did take a while for Lee and Mick to get their material back for re-issue as well. Always tricky to navigate, those music legal waters.

Anyhow, although Transient Broadcasts would have been the more obvious album for me to get (because blue), I went with Farshadow as the odd animal on the cover was more striking. At least, I think that's an animal – a shell, or maybe one of those strange cephalopods that can wrap its short-tentacled foot over its body.

And the music? Well, like I said, this could easily have been on any number of Lee's labels, probably ...txt. I've talked up plenty of those by now, and there really isn't much else here that deviates from that aesthetic. The rhythms are subtle and slightly dubby, the melodies are soft and charming in an inquisitive sort of way, and the atmosphere remains tranquil throughout. There's a loose theme of aquatic exploration, which reminds me of Lars Leonhard's Deep Venture, just not quite as expansive in sound design as that record. There honestly isn't much on Farshadow that'll leap out at you, but it's not really that kind of album either, mostly content being gentle music one can lose their thoughts within. Maybe read a little Jules Verne while it plays.

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.

Jon Hester - Converge Part I

REKIDS: 2020

I'm not only buying MP3 releases without much care in the world about doing so, I've now begun buying them from Radio Slave's label, REKIDS. If you'd try telling 2007 Sykonee that would be a thing some fifteen years in the future, he'd have bonked you upside the head for speaking such mad nonsense. Of course, he'd also have scoffed at the notion he'd end up living in the same place for over a decade, having migrated many places in the preceding ten years before. Come to think of it, that Sykonee would have been amazed at many things that have come to pass since, maybe even this music-writing thing still an ongoing hobby. But yeah, that whole 'buying digital from Radio Slave', definitely a humdinger of a what th'? now.

What's attracted me to his print, however, is the abundance of techno names familiar and obscure adorning its discography. I feel like I can just hop about release to release checking out whatever may come, and I'm guaranteed some interesting item worth listening further. Right, not everything is golden – with the amount of records coming out of REKIDS, how could it be? Taking a couple risks here and there certainly can't hurt though, right?

Like this Jon Hester felle'r. I know nothing about him, but crikey if that isn't some cool looking cover art. And a full-length LP debut at that? Heck, that's plenty 'nuff for me to scope this out, even if Mr. Hester catalogue is a total blank to me (various singles on various labels throughout the '10s – as you'd expect of a techno up-and-comer).

First proper track on Converge Part I is an eleven-minute outing called Metropolitan with a very loopy, minimalist techno beat. There's some conga fills along the way, but the main feature is a lone piano plinking about throughout. Yeah, it's got that 'Detroit goes jazz' vibe going for it, but I can't say the piano tone does much for me, neither funky nor uplifting in any meaningful way. Still, it's better than the saxophone tooting in follow-up Haze, but my boredom of the track may have more to do with my long-standing beef with the sex-jazz instrument.

Fortunately, the album gets into a deeper side of techno I rather like after. Rain has a mellow synth tone warbling about a fine shuffly rhythm, Dreamstate gets on that dubby minimalism action, and Free lets the trance pads soar. As for the final couple tracks, I'm sure Flex will get some Drexciya triggers flaring, while closer Equinox goes a little askew with its oscillating synths. Have I mentioned how any of these tracks remain quite loopy, never having much fuss in building upon its early elements beyond whatever knob twiddling Jon does his leads as a track plays out? I haven't? Well, there we go.

So maybe not the most exciting record overall, but I could see most of these tracks working in an early, warm-up set before the real techno party starts.

Aes Dana - (a) period.

Ultimae Records: 2021/2022

Another CD I didn't expect to get, though for totally reasonable reasons. Plenty of positive buzz surrounding this album led to a quick sell-out, one I'm sure even Aes Dana himself couldn't have predicted. I certainly didn't, letting (a) period. slip by without a buy. Whenever does Ultimae Records sell out of CD stock anyways? Okay, they always did, and still occasionally do. I just wasn't expecting this one too, y'know? It's not like earlier albums from Aes Dana such as Perimeters and Pollen have disappeared from the Ultimae shop.

And because I can't go any review without finding something to get naggy over, let's get my two issues out of the way. First, why has (a) period. gotten a quick re-issue, but nothing from Aes Dana's older catalogue yet? I've hesitated on grabbing the digital versions of Memory Shell and Aftermath and the H.U.V.A. Network albums for a lo-o-o-ong time, always holding out hope they'll see a spiffy CD re-issue again at some point. If Vincent is fine doing the deed with his recent material, why not these out-of-print projects as well?

Moving onto point two, why the change-up in cover art for the re-issue? I know many of Ultimae's re-releases have seen changes to their artwork, but not always. Inks, for instance, has seen a couple re-issues, and retained its lumpy, grooved look through them all. I feel changing (a) period. from a fog enshroud suspension bridge to some surf wash somewhat ruins the vibe of what this album accomplished. Indeed, I'd argue part of the reason this got so much attention was because of that artwork, so perfectly complimenting the moody ambience within. Even the Bandcamp digital version had its cover art changed. Man, I hope that doesn't jack the first edition CD up to ludicrous amounts of second-hand market money.

Okay, I've wasted too many words musing about these things. This album's great, essentially Mr. Villuis going about as ambient as he's ever gone for the duration of a full album. Most of the rhythms used are highly subdued and minimalist, sometimes barely a heartbeat. In fact, the spare times he does use regular beats, such as in the opener Foreword and near-closer Ambivalent, almost feel unnecessary (the requisite dub techno cut of Overpass a lone exception). No, (a) period. is primarily focused on moody tones, rich timbre, glitchy fuzz, overdubbed drone, and tranquil field recordings. Much of it played real quiet too, so you really feel the space between the sounds. And given how expansive Vincent's mastering techniques have always been, you can imagine how much of a feast for the ears this album is.

Seriously, it's as though all those years spent perfecting his studio craft has seen its ultimate form manifest itself with this album. This is the sort of music worth investing in those high-end headphones or expensive surround sound systems, even when it moves at such a glacial pace. Really lets you take in the sonic scenery, it does.

Various - 021025

Intellitronic Bubble: 2021

I cannot deny being a bit put off by Intellitronic Bubble's change of cover art. Right, there's only so much they could do with black and white photos of folks blowing bubbles, but it was a unique theme, one I'm sure could have carried on for at least a few more editions. Get real creative with it, y'know? Like, have someone pose with a bubble-maker in front of a Icelandic lava field! Or just feature bubbles in various sizes and numbers, maybe with nifty reflections of brutalist architecture! Just something other than whatever it is they currently got going on. At least the label's Bubble Flowers series has maintained a flower theme thus far, even if it's a lone dandelion sprouting from a crack in pavement. Nay, their mainline compilations instead get various shades of brown and burgundy.

Okay, I'm picking at the nittiest of nits in that paragraph, because I honestly have little else to criticize about 021025. All the things I claimed needed to happen for this series to show growth and evolution pretty much happen on this CD. A greater variety of fresh artists? Got 'em. Less reliance on pure electro retroism and ambient techno familiarity? Sorted. Erm, I think those were the only two major ones, and even calling those 'complaints' is a stretch. More like hopeful conditionals to keep me engaged with this label long-term.

The returning regulars are as expected: Futuregrapher, _Nyquist, and ReKaB (but no G-Prod). Considering that's all, it leaves plenty of room for other names to make the cut. And even then, their contributions are rather different to the sort of electro and techno heard prior. Futuregrapher's Norðurmýri has something of an urgent, paranoid feel going for it, all the while riding a rather smooth rhythm. Later, his Qualopec prominently features rather simple acid, with a splashy beat and subtle hum in support. Meanwhile, _Nyquist tones back his usual acid workouts for something almost trancey, in a bouncy techno sort of way. ReKaB also gets two tracks, and they're ultra-chill, Sky High proper ambient techno for the downtempo sect, Trying To Cope only a smidge brisker. A couple other returning names include Rob Belleville and Orang Volante, providing the proper Detroit nods.

Rounding out everyone else are names like Xylic, KEDA8, ENUIT, Akero, k_schreiber, and CNTRLD MND. Some do regular ol' electro jams, while others really stretch into the experimental side of the genre, even splicing with others. Hell, Stefan Kibellus' Fog almost sounds like what would happen if The Bug went electro. And what's this Krystian Shek As Usual, dropping some Ultimae Records' dub techno vibes into the electro party? Hmm, I've seen that name a bunch on Carpe Sonum Records. May need to investigate further. Does he have any CDs with blue cover art?

021025 proves mixing things up yields positive results. Granted, this CD may be a bit too chill if you prefer your electro body jackin', but I'll take variety over over-reliant repetition any day.

SVLBRD - The Waves

Faint: 2023

I'd like to think by now, Agustin Mena has established himself quite well within the larger ambient pantheon. Not an easy task, mind, that scene utterly inundated with such artists everywhere (to say nothing of the looming prospect of A.I. ambient spewing itself all over streaming services). In the few years since I myself stumbled upon his Archives print (thanks, Purl!), I feel like I've seen the label crop up in many more places than ever before. Which is great for getting that all-important exposure, but kinda' sucks for those who still want to buy physical copies of their product. Dammit, it was so much easier snagging CDs before everyone knew they existed!

Fortunately, there's Archives' sub-label, Faint, featuring dubby ambient with more of a techno pulse, and doesn't sell out of CDs ...erm, quite as fast. Some still do, dang'nabbit, but at least it feels like I've more a fighting chance to nab a disc or two when they drop, Faint not getting quite as much attention as Archives. Eh, just settle for a digital copy? But MP3 files look awful on my shelves!

As with his main label, Agustin's sub-label catalogue features a hefty amount of his own releases, operating under the alias of SVLBRD. It's not quite as fruitful as Warmth, which isn't that surprising, since Mr. Mena seems to crank out the ambient drone in his sleep. These tracks require a little more, y'know, thought, and consideration, what there being rhythms and all.

Actually, if his most recent album The Waves is anything to go by, SVLBRD features a rather simple idea: Warmth layers of ambient pads, with sparse dubby techno in support. Hey, it's a remarkably effective idea, it's just at twelve tracks long, the album does grow a tad samey after a while. Don't get me wrong, the synth work is lush as anything you'll hear from the archives of, erm, Archives. It's just when you hear the same deep bass throb and skittery hi-hats fed through plenty of reverb without much variation, an LP can start fading into the background of one's attention without some variation of the base elements. So it goes for dub techno, though.

Right, there are subtle differences among the tracks. For one, most of the rhythms are of a broken-beat nature, so we're not dealing with a strict exercise in techno functionalism in that sense. The mood also does vary, some pieces chipper (The Cliff, The Bay, The Lighthouse), some reflective (Crescent Moon, The Crossing, The Reef). The Storm, apropos of its name, features more of a rolling bassline compared to the other tracks' steady boppin'. And of course, it wouldn't be an Agustin album without at least a few regular ol' ambient pieces (Anchor, Abyssal, Seas).

The Waves presents itself with minimal fuss, Agustin more or less jamming about with his core elements. It's nice while it plays, and though few tracks will leave a strong imprint upon you, you'll at least come away rather blissed after.

Dub_Connected - Vol. 1 - Mind The Gab!

Liquid Audio Soundz: 2000

I've dabbled in Gabriel Le Mar's material here and there, but there's more I should be digging into than his prime project and that Saafi Brothers joint. Like, the Ambient Dub compilation (no, not those ones ...Or those other ones). It featured his production on nearly half the tracks. What about Banned-X and Dublocation and such? Just how far deep into the Gabriel rabbit-hole can one go? And how much effort will it take doing so? A little, I wager, but the good news is artists are making things much easier by uploading their back catalogue to Bandcamp. Ooh, I spy a couple Dub_Connected selections there. The track Dublicity got itself an Ace Track honour back on Ambient Dub. Seems an easy choice to start on, then.

And by Ongoing Alphabetical Decree, I'm covering Vol. 1 – Mind The Gab! first. Hey, it's got Dublicity on it as well! Good to know I'm not going into this one utterly blind, then. That said, I can't tell if this is an album or a compilation. Like, I'd assume an album, since most of the tracks seem specific to this release, but Lord Discogs says this is a compilation, and the Lord knows all. Far as I can tell, this was a side project Mr. Le Mar had as The Gab! working with an assortment of other producers. I guess that can make this a compilation, but I dunno'. That would be like saying every album from The Orb is a compilation, what with the rotating cast of artists working with Alex Patterson.

Anyhow, Mind the Gab! kicks off with a collaboration with Ronda Ray called Martha. Oh man, I wonder if Mr. Mastichidis has any idea how much cultural cache that name has these days! Regardless, it's a suitably groovy, dubby little number, closer to the realms of acid jazz really. A 'Dubbed' version closes things out, though it's more like a 'stripped' version. Interesting that Gab' was doing such remixes even this early on.

From there, we get the crunchy techno dub of Dublicity and High Moon with 10Cars. The Rootsman pairings find the two going more tribal techno. Plug-A-Dub with Carson Plug gets minimalist in its dub, while 13 Monde (whom Lord Discogs knows nothing about) coerces the bangier, ravier side of techno dub from Mr. Le Lar with the tracks Drop Worlds and Mental Chant. And finally Jack “No, not that one, obviously” Black provides Gab! with a simple dubby groover in At The End Of The Century.

So a decent collection of techno dub, all said. It won't light your world on fire, but it's fun while it plays. In the end, I'm just glad Gabriel made this available on Bandcamp, as I'd hate to have broken the bank paying huge Collector's Market sums of cash for this. Say, how much is the original CD going for now? *checks*. Huh. That cheap, eh. Well, I'm sure Mr. Dub_Connected appreciates my direct financial compensation.

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.

Tomas Jirku - Touching The Sublime

Silent Season: 2020

Continuing my ever so slow backtrack through Silent Season's catalogue, it's time for the third-to-last item the label released before going into presumed mothballs. Look, it's just a weird coincidence things turned out this way - I guarantee my next reviews from this label won't be Night Sea's Still or Yuka's Moon Song. Although, I see no reason why not, both still available as digital downloads. For how much longer though? While Silent Season doesn't look to close shop anytime soon, the lack of recent activity is cause for some concern. I'd hate to pop over to their Bandcamp and suddenly find *Snap!*, as if it never were.

Anyhow, here's Tomas Jirku's Touching The Sublime, a rather unique item in the Silent Season canon, and I'm not just talking the music. No, this album has the distinction of having a photo book tie-in, which... actually makes a whole lot of sense. Think about it: what's one of this label's defining characteristics? The plethora of naturalist beauty shots, of course. Yeah, the music within has always been class, but what really sold the idea of said music coming from some mystical land of the Pacific Northwest was the steady stream of picturesque scenery adorning the cover art. And now here's a whole darn book of them! I was oh-so tempted in buying one, if the $100 price tag hadn't pushed it to the back-burner of my To Buy bin before they were all bought up. Oh well, guess I'll settle for the CD.

It's a hard one to peg down though. Mr. Jirku released a number of items throughout the '00s, but seemed to go relatively quiet on the music front in the following decade. Lord Discogs lists Touching The Sublime as his first album after a ten year gap, though a smattering of singles filled the space between, consisting of everything from microhouse to dub techno to glitch-fuzz. And while what he offers here definitely fits within Silent Season mould, there's a restrained opulence to his productions that places Touching The Sublime well outside their typical dub techno lane.

Seriously, The Iliad & The Odyssey and Pele & Surtr go full-on orchestral in portions, but as filtered through a submarine turbine. And gosh, are Idiis Mortii, Entropy8, and Hypoxia ever getting on some dark ambient drone action. Even the opener, A Warm Place, is all sorts of moody and foreboding, almost deadly silent before blasting you with a massive wave of atonal drone. If Touching The Sublime was that sort of album throughout, this could have gone down as one of Silent Season's most daring albums ever, especially when coupled with a lovely picture book. However, tracks like Tectonic Monument, Eyeless Through Space, and other portions of Pele & Surtr (at thirteen minutes, it's the longest track here – plenty of space to indulge) do get on some 'typical dub techno' breaded butter. Guess the rest was just a bit too much for the label's regulars to handle.

Yamaoka - Time To Time

Databloem: 2013

Had I come to this album when I first discovered Yamaoka, I could have claimed something like “finally wrapping up his Databloem trilogy”. Assuming I'd already gotten Short Films For Long Days and Simple Songs with Purl, that is. Turns out, merely a month after I dropped a review of the latter, Kenichi dropped another album on Databloem. And then another just last year. And another-another just last year with Purl. So, y'know, good on me being tardy with this discography and all, otherwise I'd have written a completely outdated review of Time To Time, and who'd want to read that?

Actually, I'm a bit surprised Yamaoka's returned to Databloem so often – that label isn't really known for a roster of steady contributors. Indeed, artists come and go from its catalogue like travelling troubadours, releasing an album or three while gallivanting off with their own labels or regular side-hustles.

I know this is far from the case, but since taking in a fair sampling of Databloem's output, it strikes me as something of a 'proving ground' for ambient techno artists abroad. Yeah, you may have a dozen releases on some obscure net-label, but if you get your shit on this label, you've definitively become a made ambient-man within the scene at large. You only need a couple records with them to achieve such status before being set off into the wider world abroad. And here's Yamaoka, throwing my theory out the window by having half a dozen releases on Databloem in nearly a decade's time. Curse you, Kenichi, for ruining my head-canon!

Anyhow, Time To Time is where he made his debut with the label, I assume after shopping around following the folding of his previous two homes, Secret Station and Somehow Recordings. I cannot deny being hit with massive deja-vu on this album's opener, Orion, as it starts similarly to Close Line, the track that opened up his Databloem double-LP Short Films For Long Days. They aren't exactly the same, of course, Orion a bit more stripped and minimal compared to Close Line, but man, did it ever give me a sense of trepidation. That for as cool and unique a sound he had,Yamaoka may have turned out to be a one-trick pony with his use of layered echoing loops. Never mind A Frozen Stream disproved that, it's those initial impressions that unfortunately linger.

Fortunately, Kenichi offers enough variation of sound among the remaining seven tracks that those fears quickly dissipated. Yeah, some tread familiar territory as heard on Short Films, though I can't fault that future album for exploring similar sonic territory. When Yamaoka moves closer to the realms of dub techno (Winter Garden, Radial), trancey loops (Hermes) or waves of melodic washes (Prose, Skylight), it helps stand Time To Time out as it's own entity. Nice and concise, too, because I couldn't help but tap out after two CDs worth of Yamaoka loops in Short Films. Maybe I need more Purl up in this house again.

Speedy J - Tanga

NovaMute: 2003/2021

I've pretty much covered the bulk of Speedy J's '90s output now, at least that which he's re-issued through Bandcamp thus far (still no Oil Zone single?). Yet somehow, most of his post-Loudboxer material has eluded my orderly queue. All those Collabs singles, I get, since I didn't start this discography dive into Jochem Paap's works until after wrapping up another clutch of 'C' releases. The two other Loudboxer EPs though? Just... what were the odds?

Actually, calling Tanga and Bugmod singles spun off Loudboxer is generous. Yeah, they both use the familiar Designer's Republic art on their covers, but neither track appeared on the album proper. Maybe some loops were available in the vinyl edition of Loudboxer? I wouldn't know, because I haven't heard that double-LP featuring two-hundred locked grooves for discerning DJs with playful and inventive minds. All I can say for certainty is there ain't no Tanga, Tannga, Taanga, or Tangga featured around Loudboxer. It just didn't make the cut.

I almost wonder if Tannga could have made it regardless. We're still in a full-bore, head-down, 4am warehouse techno bosh here, which is what you'd expect from an EP aping similar cover art from an album full of the stuff, but this track is nearly eleven minutes long! Given Loudboxer was all about the quick mixes in service of keeping the party on the up-and-up, where could this behemoth even fit? Like, sure, a two-minute snippet of those thunderous beats could have slid snuggly in a warm-up or lead-out portion, but the whole track features those elements. Besides, there's something approaching an actual hook here too, a repeating synth squall echoing into the furthest, darkest domains your ears can imagine, with a little filter effect keeping each loop twisted until all you hear is its trailing reverb. Yes, compared to the relentless rhythmic action of Loudboxer, that constitutes a hook!

Taanga is basically the dub remix, all drums, slowly building in activity as the track plays out, a couple 'pull it back, bring it back' moments, and a nice lead-out. It's only half as long as Tannga, which isn't surprising since it doesn't make time for the hook (such as it is). Meanwhile, Tangga is the... ambient techno version? Whoa, going a little retro there, are ya', Speedy? Okay, it's only 'ambient' in the sense there isn't an omnipresent thudding kick through the track. Plenty of percussion, mind you, but a bit muted and flanged out with reverb, echo, and delay effects, I guess making this the Proper Dub remix. You can even hear an urgent little hook underneath it all, building its way out from underneath the rhythmic clatter. Considering I had Tanga pegged for just carrying on from Loudboxer's genre purism, it's nice hearing a reminder that Jochem could go back to more experimental techno, if he was so inclined.

And that's a wrap with Speedy J at this end of the alphabet! However, we're not quite done with Mr. Paap down here...

Eskostatic - Serpentines & Valleys

Ultimae Records: 2019

I just can't stop giving Ultimae chances, can I? It's like, my interest drifts, thinking the label I once adored has forever moved onto a sound that, while I don't dislike, am not in any hurry to rush out hearing more of either. Then I'll hear something that sparks my synapses again, some fresh wrinkle or genre exploration I hadn't considered being given the exquisite Ultimae Mixdown™. Next thing you know, I'm blind-buying another clutch of CDs, almost always based upon what cover art intrigues me the most. And this Serpentines & Valleys, it doth intrigue me indeed. What are those, dirt bike paths? Rally car race courses? Whatever the case, it's certainly unique among Ultimae's typical focus on natural land forms, no denying the touch of man in this environment. Eskostatic? Never heard of this artist before, so maybe someone new to the Ultimae ranks. Sure, let's pick that sucker up!

And opener Sky Cottage hints at some vintage Ultimae sounds, a simple drone and spritely bit of subtle melody slowly emerging. Half-way through this piece, a deep, digital bass throb glitches in and out, the sort of dub techno that gradually came to define much of the label's more recent output. In fact, the more I hear it follow-up Morning Star, it starts sounding rather familiar. Wait, is this...? *checks liner notes* Ah, Martin van Rossum, also known as Martin Nonstatic, one of Ultimae's regulars now, and an artist I really haven't kept tabs on. His Granite and Nebulae Live At The Planetarium releases just never inspired me to do so. I sometimes think maybe I should, perhaps an album or EP exploring a different facet of his technical dub techno that might latch on properly. Sadly, I can't say this collaboration with Esko Barba (Marcel Montel) does much in getting me hype to hear more.

There's twelve tracks on this album, and most of them follow a similar pattern: spacious ambient drone, ultra-deep dub-glitch bass, with occasional upping of the tempo going from a cool simmer to a gentle bubbling. Some tracks have a more prominent feature added, like the acid in Coastline, guitar in Viamala, or the relatively 'epic' build of the titular cut, but with music performed so subtly, you're gonna' have to really be paying attention to notice the differences. It almost feels like they made a standard track, then someone (Mr. Villuis himself?) kept saying, “No, you need to pull it back more. No, pull it back more. No, more subtle, less obvious leads!”

Again, I don't dislike what I'm hearing on Serpentines & Valleys, but it sure doesn't go out of its way to lure me in either. It basically needs a deluxe, high-grade sound system (or damn fine headphones) to get enough out of its nuances, with no distractions pulling your attention this way or that. As for Martin Nonstatic, I guess I still haven't quite clicked with him either. Maybe one more try, down the road. And another, and another...

loscil - Sea Island

Kranky: 2014

A local lad, this loscil is. Not that I realized it at the time of purchase, simply drawn to another bit of familiar cover art with a title also intimately familiar (technically grew up on a 'sea island'). Many a Pacific Northwest beach front is little more than a rubble-strewn wasteland of old cedar driftwood washed upon the shore. Ancient trees felled by strong winter winds, carried out to the ocean where they cruise along currents and tides, piling upon each other in tiny enclaves and fjords all along the coastline. Not the most inviting areas if you're looking to lounge in the sun for an afternoon, but all those dropped logs are handy in a pinch if you need to drop a log of your own.

Anyhow, Scott Morgan has been an active musician for over two decades now, at times working in bands like Destroyer, but primarily producing music as loscil, and fairly active at it too. Lord Discogs lists some thirty items to his catalogue, including works on Ghostly International and Glacial Movements Records. And while I wouldn't say his output is heavily inspired by the general grey-tone of the region's sights and weather, album titles like First Narrows, Strathcona Variations, Sketches From New Brighton, and, yes, Sea Island, will certainly get some Vancouverites' notice. To say nothing of that cover art for Endless Falls. We know that sight all too well wherever we are sat within a traffic jam.

As you may have guessed from those label name-drops, loscil primarily deals in minimalist, dubby ambient drone, with the occasional subtle techno pulse thrown in. Sometimes the music is tranquil and soothing, other times reflective and melancholy, perhaps at times amorphous and non-committal to any particular mood. Whatever you fancy, I'm sure Scott has made some iteration in the past twenty years.

Sea Island touches upon a few of these themes, a nice little soundtrack should you find yourself wandering about such a locale. The bell tones of opener Ahull brings you into the album with a bit of whimsy, even as some of the backing, throbbing synths create a sense of unease. In fact, we don't get anything quite so 'lighthearted' until Sturgeon Bank towards the album's end. In between, there's sombre pieces (Bleeding Ink, Sea Island Murders, Catalina 1943), contemplative pieces (In Threes, Holding Pattern), and gently beautiful pieces (Iona, Angle Of Loll), all performed within a warm layer of foggy dub drone.

Admittedly, the heavy use of said dub tones does give Sea Island a bit of a samey vibe throughout, so it's nice that En Masse towards the end focuses more on piano over the drone. Not that each track doesn't feature a unique sound, it's just everything tends to blend together over the course of a playthrough. That's just the loscil style though, and if you're down for that, you'll be down for Sea Island. Now if you'll excuse me, it's time for my three-hour walk in overcast skies.

Fluxion - Perspectives

Vibrant Music: 2020

Fluxion is another artist I feel I should have crossed paths with more often, but once again, Lord Discogs tells me that's not the case. Maybe it's because I've seen the name Flux Pavilion 'round these here parts for so many years, the name kinda' mushed into 'Fluxion' within my brain. Or perhaps it's immediacy bias cropping up, as I just listened to an album from Simon Posford with the word “Flux” in its title.

On the other hand, why haven't I seen Mr. Soublis' project more often? Dude was among the early dub techno names, getting his break on Basic Channel's Chain Reaction print. He'd later go on to release multiple singles and albums, some through his own Vibrant Music, others on that other Very Important dub techno label, Echocord. Yet if Discogs is anything to go by, his compilation and official DJ mix appearances remain slight, a track here and a tune there about all I see. There may be more that the Ogger community is simply unfamiliar with (!!), but for all intents, it seems Fluxion's name hasn't made that much of an impact beyond the dub techno faithful.

Which has little to do with me, to be honest. As is often the case, Perspectives was another blind buy from the Ultimae shop, that recollection of a name that I clearly had no actual recognition of drawing me in. And hey, a soggy side-street within claustrophobic urban architecture, stretching beyond the photo's parallax, that's enough to pique my interest with this release.

Opener Schism is promising, a gentle ambient piece with graceful reverb and dubby hiss invoking those vintage Burial feels, just without all the vinyl crackle and guns clacking. Follow-up Formation gets the groove going, also about as vintage as most dub techno goes in most eras, but with a nice little melodic through-line – yeah, I can hear why modern Ultimae would hawk this album in their shop. Further along, whopping thirteen-minute Glimpses and 'shorter' nine-minute Glimpses II provide nice, hypnotic journeys with looping rhythmic dub and gently evolving melancholic melodies. Trance, you say? Well, maybe that 'neo' branch, if The Field had gotten more influence from classic Swayzak.

Beyond those tracks though, Perspectives mostly dwells on the jazzier side of dub techno ...kinda'. Fluxion's tried-and-tested genre attributes remain the dominate force in his production, but is never so stiff and cold as this style typically goes, allowing a little emotion and soul within. Tracks like Within, Dawn, Down The Line, and Distance feature more shuffly rhythms with jammy instruments, lending almost an urban-jazz vibe to these digital atmospheres. Even a track like Cliff, with its dub techno pulse similar to Glimpses, comes paired with gentle strings befitting an uplifting moment in a noir film. Has Fluxion always been like this, or are these sounds unique to this particular album? Guess I should check out the rest of his discography to find out. I mean, anything repped on Echocord can't be half bad, right?

Aes Dana - Inks

Ultimae Records: 2019

I don't want to claim Ultimae Records has 'fallen off', as some do, because that's not really the case. Yeah, their musical manifesto has morphed into something quite different from its inception, but that doesn't mean their quality standards have slipped. They've simply chosen to explore different sonic avenues, and whether you're up for joining them in this journey likely comes down to personal taste. And for myself, I can't say I've always been for it. Whereas Ultimae of old was 'must buy' with every release, I've skipped on a few in more recent years, not even worried some may slip into over-inflated collector's market territory.

And truth be told, Aes Dana's Inks might have been included in there. Much as I've generally liked his older albums like Season 5, Perimeters and Pollen, it's been a long time since he indulged in prog-psy of that nature. Rather, dub techno and journeys through the sonic spaces between has dominated his muse for the past decade, and after the wafer-thin outing that was Far & Off with MikTek, not to mention Ultimae's general direction, I wasn't in any hurry to hear where his muse was going.

Still, I was willing to listen to some Bandcamp samples, and what's this? D'n'B rhythms? In an Ultimae release!? Oh... oh my! Never would I have imagined hearing something like that out of this label, much less from Aes Dana himself. And sure, they're nothing on the level of some fierce Technical Itch Amen break action, but those broken beats in Unfold, Transparency Syndrome, Ashen, and Alep Offset sure skip and stutter like some low-key, ASC microfunk does. Well, I'm sold, let's check Inks out proper-like then.

Honestly though, first impressions are gonna' be tough to get through, because yeah, Mr. Villuis' first solo album in seven years does have that omnipresent, minimalist grey-tone dub techno vibe throughout. If modern Ultimae still doesn't do it for you, little on Inks will change your mind, and you'd be forgiven for dismissing it out of hand.

Yet once this album finally (finally!) started sinking in, I was quite mesmerized by the diversity lurking beneath the surface. Tunes on that more classic Ultimae downbeat tip include the titular opener and Akacie, while techno of all stripes gets a look in with Nuphar Log (classic dub), Peace Corrosion (minimalist proggy outing), and Otherness (d'at Berghain shi'). Some ambient pieces in The Gradual District and Juniper round things out, but man, even Alep Offset is a journey and a half. Ol' Vincent even slows the tempo down to a hip-hop crawl. D'n'B and hip-hop in an Ultimae release? Wonders never cease.

Again, if you remain unconvinced about the label's current general tone, I doubt Inks will change your mind. I was glad I gave this a chance though. Heck, it even got me hype to nab Aes Dana's more recent album, (a) period. Heard quite good things about that one and it's already sold out. Son of a b

Owl - Infinite Horizon

Silent Season: 2021

I brought this up in the last Silent Season review I did (Daar's Entire), but man, has there ever been a lasting drought from this label. Daar's album remains the 'final' item they released, while this Infinite Horizon from Owl is only a month older. I feel like I'll have gone through the entire Silent Season back-catalogue in reverse order before they release something new. You think I'm joking, but Tomas Jirku's Touching The Sublime is also in my queue, currently the 'fourth-to-last' item from the label. Ooh, and now the OCD compels me to grab the digital-only Moon Song EP from Yuka, just to claim I have all these in proper order. Or heck, why not drop a hundred bones on the entire Bandcamp collection? Sure, I already have twenty out of the sixty-seven releases, but I'm gonna' need something to satisfy my Silent Season fix in their ongoing absence.

Owl is Pierre Nesi, a chap who's released a scattershot amount of material over the past decade. He had an earlier, modestly successful run making drum 'n' bass and future garage with fellow Belgian Lucas D'Haeyaert as Glÿph (yikes, guys, change that Discogs photo! You look right out of an Aphex Twin video). Seems the Owl alias emerged as a means of exploring the more atmospheric elements of his muse, with rhythms more on the downbeat. He made a debut on Silent Season as part of their 10 Year Collection series of vinyl releases, returning half a decade later for there here seven track debut solo album.

As this is a Silent Season release, I went into Infinite Horizon fully expecting to hear things like fuzzy field recordings, layers of dubby timbre, and maybe even some of techno's rhythmic pulse. Sure enough, opener Moonshine Haze provides that, but gosh, why does that distant howl put my nerves on edge? There's still some sense of hazy, grey-tone melancholy to Mr. Nesi's choice of synth harmony, which fits that omnipresent coastal rainforest vibe I've long associated with the label. There's just something oddly bleak about it too.

And that tone doesn't let up in following tracks Glimpse Of Decline and Losing Cohesion. Despite moments of melodic respite (dashes of spritely bells in Decline, the sound of chirping birds in Cohesion), there's still an overwhelming sense of depression. Heck, I'll just come right out and say Two Lands is out-and-out dark ambient, the sort you might hear on a Cryo Chamber cinematic drone release.

I can't say that's the dominate tone of Infinity Horizon though. Hidden Forest is a straight up dub techno cut in the classic Silent Season wide-screen ambient vein, while Distant Transmission and the titular cut go more for the reflective ambient dub outings. Overall, this seven tracker hits most of the vintage vibes you'd expect out of this label. I just have never heard Silent Season go as dark as Two Lands before. Makes me wonder what else I might have missed over the years.

ASC - Imagine The Future

Samurai Red Seal: 2015

I've covered a fair bit of ASC on this blog, but aside from my first dip into Mr. Clements' discography (Nothing Is Certain) and the multi-part Sci-Files series, it's been almost entirely his ambient output. Even then, I've barely scratched the surface of those records, but I know there's more to his muse than lengthy dronescapes. No, it's about time I scoped out something of his that has some rhythmic momentum going on, a trip into techno or dive into d'n'b again. Imagine The Future is thus that album that'll get me there, for no other reason than because it was the one of the ones that was there. On ASC's Bandcamp, that is. Can't be too fussy, I s'pose.

This actually is a bit of an appropriate album to check out, in that it was released the same year as Fervent Dream, when I started listening to more ASC proper-like. Oh, what strange and bizarre butterfly-effect may have happened in that alternate timeline, had I chosen Imagine The Future over Fervent Dream. Well, no, I can't conjure any such quantum variation upon my current state of being. I got Fervent Dream because it was on Silent Season, it being an ASC album just an added bonus. There was no 'zine hype surrounding Samurai Red Seal at the time (at least, none that I was aware of, and certainly no spiffy Resident Advisor write-up). Not that it would matter, as this was the last album released on the Samurai Music off-shoot (ASC's Space Echo EP being the very last item – James sure knows how to pick 'em).

Anyhow, Imagine The Future kicks off with a three-part, near twelve-minute piece titled Sunspots. When I first threw the album on, I did not realize it was a three-part, near twelve-minute piece, and honestly thought I was listening to a continuous mix. Look, when each 'Event' sounds radically different from the other, going from a chill bleepy ambience, to a harsher beatless techno dub, to out-and-out experimentation, you'd be forgiven for thinking the same.

That bit of artistic indulgence out of the way, Mr. Clements turns his attention to more conventional songcraft, kinda'. By the mid-'10s, he was well onto pushing the boundaries of how much sonic space he could breathe into his minimalist microfunk beats, and Imagine The Future pushes far indeed. Even when the tempo is technically high and brisk, the low thrum of bass and smooth, breezy rhythms never dominates a given track, letting the sparse melodic fills and cosmic reverb do the heavy lifting. It's like where the bleeding edge of techno and d'n'b meet out there, in space, but as viewed (heard?) from our distant, Earthly vantage point.

It all sounds neat and interesting, but there's a bit of a sterile, clinical approach to it too. I think I've just been spoiled by ASC's warmer sonic adventures into ambience, Imagine The Future coming off as a hard yank back into techno dystopia by comparison. Perfect for forlorn Photek fans!

Higher Intelligence Agency - Discatron

Headphone: 2020

*PREVIOUSLY, ON EMCRITIC...*

Man, what I wouldn't give for something new [from The Higher Intelligence Agency]. Something new... something new... something new...

*AND NOW, THE CONTINUATION!*

When I left the last HIA review off on that cliff-hanger, it was with full intent of Discatron being that “something new... something new...” item. Wouldn't you know it though, Bobby Bird released another item since then, and a full LP at that, Song Of The Machine. Goodness, that's more music from the Agency this decade than the previous two combined! Heck, you'd have to go even further back for any solo material. Something must have lit quite the creative spark under Bobby's muse to have put out two whole new joints in such (relatively) rapid succession. Methinks it was uploading his catalogue to Bandcamp that did the trick. Revisiting one's past artistic accomplishments has a habit of doing that.

Given that massive gap between Birmingham Frequencies and Discatron, surely Mr. Bird has gathered all manner of new toys to tinker with, new sonic roads left unexplored, fresh angles to approach his songcraft. Hah, no, not really. Seems HIA has taken the B12 route in maintaining his distinct style of ambient-bleep techno-dub, just giving it a modern production spit-shine. And frankly, I doubt fans of HIA, myself included, would have it any other way. When you already have a unique approach to music making, one that honestly has never been replicated or duplicated after thirty years in the business, there's little sense in messing with that formula.

And the titular opener of this EP allays any worry folks may have of that. Chirping, singing bleeps, wobbly acid bassline, and dubby percussion that's tight and crisp, with a vibe that keeps things firmly tongue-in-cheek, never letting anything grow tedious or self-serious as dub techno is so wont to do. The only thing that keeps Discatron in the here and now and not some long, lost older tune is just how cavernous the dub delay reaches now.

Second track 3P mostly focuses on Bird's brand of broken beat with acid in support, reverb effects wishing and washing about as the rhythm cruises along. B-Theory, the track that first clued me in that HIA was even on the rise again, really pulls on those vintage Artificial Intelligence feels, less pulpy than other Bobby works. Finally, Sound Matter goes about as deep into dub as you'll ever hear HIA, a languid pace for a slow burner of a moody tune. Oh, and the digital version of Discatron includes an experimental piece called Colourmotion. Is probably more interesting for those into musique concrete, and I'm sure Bobby had fun twiddling nobs in getting some of these drone tones, but I'm more about his cool grooves, y'dig?

So a solid (motion) return for HIA, all said. As for Song Of The Machine, eh, I dunno. Looks like an 'experimental Steampunk' album to me, and I prefer my HIA pulp-fiction indulgences '50s sci-fi.