Neotropic - The Absolute Elsewhere

Slowcraft Records: 2018

No, really, I've been meaning to return to Neotropic for a while. Things just slip by, and before you know it, nearly a decade has passed before the opportunity arises again. In this case, it was by way of James Murray's Slowcraft Records and spotting Ms. Maslen's alias among the label's catalogue. “Oh yeah!” says I, “It's been an age since I reviewed Mr. Brubakers Strawberry Alarm Clock. I didn't even know she was still active. How remiss of me.”

Actually, I have heard her sporadically since then, though I didn't realize it. Turns out she's been a frequent collaborator with The Future Sound Of London, most recently contributing some vocals on Environment Five (aka: the one with the power line towers on the cover). They also apparently sampled her on Yage, plus on the song Osho from The Isness. And if that wasn't crazy enough, I just discovered she performed with the FSOL lads on Top Of The Pops, when Papua New Guinea got tapped for a spot on the show. I guess Lisa Gerrard wasn't available.

Actually-actually, this may not be as odd a thing as you'd think, as it turns out Riz Maslen has some serious modern classical, operatic chops in her as well. Right, they may have always been there, I just never came across them when she was mostly producing way-leftfield trip-hop. Going by this album though, it's certainly a field she's more than adept at.

Opener Overture signals the oncoming herald of doom (or something), all moody atmosphere as the horns of war emerging from the hills. Okay, I may be overselling this a little, but it cannot be denied it's an effective piece of music setting a particular tone. Bring on the battle! Oh, wait, it's already over in Your War, a sombre dirge of piano, strings, and Riz' angelic voice (an angel of death, that is!). If you thought this piece was grim, it's got nothing on the desolation of follow-up Wreckage Of Dreams. You know the FSOL track Everything In The World Is Doing Something Without Me? Yeah, like that.

It's not all morose vibes in this album though. The ethereal Byzantium, while sombre in its own right, at least feels like there's some hope on the horizon. Elsewhere, Pleiades is the sort of piece that could use with a Cate Blanchett narration over top, while The Restless gets downright meditative with its low thrum of chants and instrumentation. Then there's Nyolat, the lone proper nod to electronic music with sludgy industrial rhythm as Riz gets her operatic on. Huh, I honestly get more dark ambient Delerium vibes off that one than anything FSOL. Not that Bill and Rhys never got 'inspiration' from Brian and Garry on multiple occasions.

At seven tracks long, The Absolute Elsewhere is rather short, but nor is it the sort of album that needs to be longer than it is. I don't think I could indulge in such melodramatic depression any longer as it is.

Lucette Bourdin - Silver Moon

Earth Mantra/Fantasy Enhancing: 2009/2021

Twenty CDs may seem like a thorough amount of albums for a retrospective box-set, but truth be told, this only touches upon one aspect of Lucette's discography. Well, maybe one and a half, if you include all the early, self-released stuff too. But yes, this collection of Ms. Bourdin's music primarily focuses on her output on Dark Duck Records, when she in fact had two labels supporting her, the other being Earth Mantra.

I'm not sure why those albums weren't included with this box-set – some sort of licensing hurdle, perhaps? Or could they just not be *gasp* as good as her other material, thus getting cut to keep this box-set a simple twenty CDs long? Guess I could find out for myself by checking out those Earth Mantra albums (I like the artwork of Golden Sun!) but, eh, I've taken in so much of Lucette's ambient (just... so very much), I will need a little break n' buffer after I've finished off this current collection.

Anyhow, I bring all this up because, according to Lord Discogs, Silver Moon is the lone Earth Mantra release to find its way into Retrospective Box Set (2005 – 2017). Again, I'm not sure why this is so. Fair point that some of those Earth Mantra albums were collaborations with Darrell Burgan, but others like Rumors From Cypress Town or Radiant Stars or Seeking Ganesha or Timeless Shore or Horse Heaven... were these not worthy? Ergh, I'm probably focusing way to much on something that's likely just a coincidence of circumstance. Let's get back to Silver Moon, one of my favourite Kitaro pieces- erm, I mean, the album I'm supposed to be reviewing. (seriously though, Kitaro's Silver Moon is such a lovely outing of haunting New Age ambience)

Almost immediately, I'm struck with a slightly different vibe than I'm used to from Lucette's typical brand of gentle, flowing ambient drone. For sure the synth pads still glide and weave along, but there's more of a mysterious feel to Now The Moon, less prominence on harmonic layers of timbre. Gosh, there's even choir pads, emerging from the winds of an approaching night. If that wasn't enough to send a bit of a chill down the spine, some pieces towards the end, like From The Shadowy Cote, With Silver Claws, Moveless Fish, and In A Silver Stream, edge remarkably close to the domains of dark ambient. Even a piece like Walks In Night, while more grand than most of this album, has an omnipresent ominous atmosphere about it.

For sure there's a few tracks that touch upon Ms. Bourdin's more New Age approach to ambient drone. She Peers And Sees features harmonic strokes while gentle woodblocks plonk in rhythmic fashion, while Silver Trees does that lovely ebb and flow drone some of her best works entailed. Guess I just wasn't quite prepared to hear an album of 'Lucette Goes Goth', but then every ambient artist likes getting in touch with their darkside at some point.

Sykonee's 'Sportsing' Surveys: DELERIUM / CONJURE ONE

Ah, Delerium. Some love 'em. Some hate 'em. Some loved 'em before they hated 'em. Some didn't know they existed for a decade before coming to love 'em. A great many more are probably indifferent but know at least one or two of their songs - typically in a remixed fashion. Wherever you stand on their worth, it's undeniable the group - primarily helmed by Bill Leeb, with Rhys Fulber as his frequent fellow muse, and a whole gaggle of lady vocalists in later years, have done much in the worlds of musical scenes most would deem incompatible. Are they really so?

Yes, if you were to take their very earliest industrial and dark ambient records against their most recent ethereal dance-pop outings, you'd wonder how that link ever formed. Or at least I wondered. And with wonder comes an interest in exploring an entire discography. Buckle-up, me buckos, this one's a three decades spanning dive!





























That sure was a dive that felt longer than I anticipated - probably didn't help I took on an additional discography in the process. That'd be like if I'd done all the solo albums of the original Genesis band members along with that band's primary output! Felt like I'd have done Rhys dirty if I didn't include his stuff with Leeb's though: the two remain so synced with each other after all these years, and the two projects were relatively similar overall. Ooh, does this mean I'll be tackling all the other Leeb/Rhys projects out there? Front Line Assembly does have quite the extensive discography too, not to mention other, smaller outings like Synesthasia.

Hhmm, no, I need to listen to something a bit different for a while. How does New Order sound to y'all?

Enya - The Celts

Atlantic/WEA: 1986/1992

The only Enya album I've cared to have, even when I was kinda'-sorta' a fan for a brief time. You know that period, when a parent's musical influence overides everything, before branching out into your own interests. Yet while most of Ms. Eithne Pádraigín Ní Bhraonáin's music wasn't quite to my taste, there's something about her debut album that remains captivating to my ears, a simplicity to the compositions that was lost when future hit songs like Orinoco Flow afforded her grander studio arrangements. Yes, this is totally me saying I prefer Enya when she was underground.

Thing is, she practically did start from the ground up. After a brief stint with traditionalist Irish folk outfit Clannad, she joined up with producer Nicky Ryan for a shot at a solo career, working in a studio built from scratch and very few prospects. Mostly sticking to classical music and Irish folk, they contributed a few tunes to local projects, developing a rather unique style heavily reliant on synths and multi-tracking reverb on her voice, making it more of a choir. About the only comparable artist around at the time was Constance Demby, which undoubtedly played a huge part in Enya getting lumped into the New Age market.

Among these contributions was a piece called March Of The Celts, a moody little number offered to a BBC documentary about the Celts. So impressed were they by it that they commissioned her to score the whole series, the result of which being this here debut album. Well, initially self-titled debut, released to little fanfare, but soon highly sought after with the successes of Watermark and Shepherd Moons, prompting a spiffy re-issue. Aww, but why lose the original bad-ass cover art of Enya posing with wolves?

It's tunes like March Of The Celts that brings me back to Enya's debut. Yeah, the titular opener is more what you'd expect of an Enya piece, a bit bouncy and chipper. Gosh though, there's something captivating about those swelling, ethereal voices and cold synth tones. Then you get to minimalist pieces like Deireadh An Truath, Triad, Dan Y Dwr, and especially Boadicea, and it feels like you're transported to a whole different realm. A gothic-Celtic realm? Despite the nods to traditional music of the ancient tribes, not really, no. The synths strip out any vestige of proper folk, even on tracks like Bard Dance and Fairytale. When tracks do feature normal instruments - various piano pieces, Uilleann pipes in The Sun In The Stream (James Horner undoubtedly noticed) – there's still that icy '80s synth sheen to it all. And I adore it all the more for it!

In many ways, Enya's debut reminds me of Kitaro's work for the Silk Road series. Hired to make music for a documentary, traditionalist works crafted with ancient synth technology, couldn't be replicated even if tried. And, of course, both became giants of a New Age market, even if it wasn't their intent.

Kriistal Ann - Touched On The Raw

Wave Records: 2018

When I first discovered Kriistal Ann during my Werkstatt Recordings splurge, I sensed a musician on the rise, a talent that would grow into a force to be reckoned with in a larger darkwave scene. Indeed, she'd just come out with this particular album, with a suitable amount of Bandcamp hype behind it. Wave Records was even springing for a limited vinyl roll-out, no small thing unless you happened upon Blood Music. Which she kind of did, via a guest spot on a GosT album. Anyhow, that all seems like a moot point, as she hasn't released any solo work since Touched On The Raw, instead reconvening with Toxik Razor for another Paradox Obscur album. And while I know it hasn't been that long since this album came out, two years does feel like an eternity these days, unlike the rest of the zippy '10s where two years breezed on by.

Kriistal wasn't entirely inactive during the period between Cultural Bleeding and Touched On The Raw, also releasing the collaborative album Muse with fellow Werkstatt alum Aidan Casserly. That one was much different that the cold, ethereal synthwave music she'd been making to that point, a surprising outing of beatnik jazz and occasional operatic dalliances. Extremely arty stuff, is what I'm getting at, but helps provide something of a bridge linking Ms. Ann's last two solo albums. For the production on Touched On The Raw isn't nearly so rough as past records. Heck, there was already quite the leap from Refraction to Delirious Skies, as much as there was from Delirious Skies to Cultural Bleeding. Yet even as the production and songcraft improved, through it all was an unmistakable rawness, harsh synths and brittle rhythms always serving Kriistal's vocals.

I don't get that same feeling with Touched On The Raw, ironic given the album's title. Absolutely there's still the ethereal synth-pop and darkwave overtures, but everything sounds much cleaner and smooth. Machines running in perfect synchronicity instead of struggling to keep pace. Ghostly, rather than ghastly. Not to mention all the overt jazz influences about, ample amounts of saxophone and skittery rhythms meshing with wailing synths and moody pads. And gosh, the titular track could almost be neo-trance? It almost feels like a throwback hearing the brittle textures of Secret Shore, though the saxophone and ...chipmunk Japanese (?) vocals do remind you this is still post-Muse Kriistal we're dealing with here.

A couple bonus tracks round out the CD, a pair of remixes from Marcello Gallo. The second doesn't do much different with Talking To The Beast, basically beefing up the original's spare rhythms and ethereal elements while leaving the structure of the song the same. His go with Black Art was quite a surprise though. Whereas the original is the usual Kriistal Ann minimalist ethereal-wave outing, Mr. Gallo takes that and adds a bumpin' New Beat beat with a ridiculously addictive bassline. More of this in future albums from Ms. Ann, please! The jazzier stuff is okay too, I guess.

Kriistal Ann - Delirious Skies

Werkstatt Recordings/Wave Records: 2014/2017

Not her first album, but considering it was the only one of Ms. Ann's Werkstatt recordings to get a re-issue with Wave Records, I feel safe calling it her breakout. It's better than Refraction too, Kriistal's actual debut rather rough and under-produced. Not that the whole minimalist, coldwave aesthetic is known for its cutting-edge studio quality – indeed, the rawer the better – but the songcraft was still comparatively basic. Sometimes you just need to get that out of your system though, expunge those hesitant jitters, get a feel for what works and what doesn't. Right, she wasn't any rookie, having already been making music with Toxic Razor for half a decade to that point. Something something solo spotlight versus shared stage, and all that.

I feel like I'm spinning lyrical wheels here. I want to hype Delirious Skies because it's the Kriistal Ann album that has She Walks In Beauty on it. That piece of music makes me feel things I didn't know I was capable of, and I fully admit it was the absolute best setting to hear it the first time doing that. There's nothing like seeing freshly-lain snow, two feet deep, over a mountain pass as twilight settles upon a starry sky, all the while hearing an all-encompassing mechanical bassline and icy synth leads as Ms. Ann's ethereal voice sing-recites poetry from Lord Byron. Holy cow, I get chills even thinking it!

It's also such a significant leap above in mood and tone compared to the music on Refraction, it feels like much of Delirious Skies is in service of bridging the gap. The opening salvo of songs Fortune Of Medea, Fright, and Punisher do sound stronger and more confident in vocal delivery (Ms. Ann's “ohh-ooh”s in Fright seem off-key to my ears, but she fully commits to giving it her all regardless), with the minimalist coldwave production tighter and punchier. Then she goes into more avent garde territory, with harsher synths, clunkier rhythms, and less singing in favour of operatic spoken-word delivery. Is there a technical term for that? I'm sure there is, like a whole Gothic sub-genre of it.

Anyhow, I don't like it as much, but again do appreciate the branching out. As mentioned, it all comes off in service of building Kriistal Ann into her final form as presented in She Walks In Beauty. And as if to sell the point any stronger, the Wave Records re-issue included a bonus track, Jewel Throne, which sounds leaps beyond even the album's earlier tracks, closer to what her later releases would become.

I'm not so foolish as to try and recommend Delirious Skies to anyone beyond the most ardent coldwave cultists. This remains incredibly niche music, and trying to sell it as anything but makes me feel like a Pitchforkian hipster gushing over witch house. Kriistal Ann simply struck the right endorphin trigger for yours truly, but who knows, maybe she will yours too. Maybe wait for a returning winter though.

Single Gun Theory - Flow, River Of My Soul

Nettwerk: 1994

(a Patreon Request from Omskbird)

There was a small window in the development of my musical tastes where this album would have been brilliant to me. It was right around the point when the sounds of Enya, Enigma and Deep Forest were failing me, but I hadn't yet caught onto whatever 'underground' ethno-pop beats options existed. When I was exploring compilations like Pure Moods and Escapes for new artists to check out. When I came into contact with another Nettwerk album released the same year as this that I thought among the most amazing things I ever heard, Delerium's Semantic Spaces. It was a small window of time, is what I'm saying.

Interestingly, Delerium was also my introduction to Single Gun Theory. Or rather, to Jacqui Hunt of Single Gun Theory, as featured in the lead single to the album Karma, Euphoria (Firefly). And yes, again, that was the lead single, not Silence featuring another Nettwerk artist on vocals (you know who). I didn't know much about Single Gun Theory, only what the Karma-hype blurbs told me, of them being Australian, a staple on Nettwerk since the label's earliest days, and having some musical ties to the Dead Can Dance wave of '80s ethereal synth-pop. I'll take the PR's word for it.

In any event, I'm not surprised the Delerium boys wanted to work with Jacqui Hunt, because boy does she ever carry the musical load in this group. Granted, part of that is thanks to the layers of ethereal effects on her voice. Whenever she's singing about fractured relationships or global issues or metaphysical existence though, you stand up and take notice, more than willing to be swept away in the thick layers of treated vocals. Which is good, as the backing music is only passable at best.

Pete and Kath do everything they can to make these tunes sound rich and dynamic, but the production chops just aren't there. It's clear their global travels heavily inspired them, with all manner of ethnic chants and exotic instruments finding their way into their tunes. And I do give props for them bringing in actual musicians for the showcases of tabla, tambura, cello, and such.

Unfortunately, they don't do much to distinguish their sampling as integral parts of the songs they craft, many of them presented with a big, flashing sign shouting “I'm a sample!” between moments of Jacqui's singing. Geez, it's even noticeable in their rhythms, not even trying to hide how obvious some of their breaks sampling is. It's fine using well-worn beats and all, but do something interesting with them to make them your own, otherwise I'm gonna' think of better examples of their use elsewhere. I could give them a pass on their previous albums, but by 1994, such production was coming off rather dated fast.

Ironically, the best example of the sort of music Single Gun Theory was trying to make here comes care of Delerium's Euphoria (Firefly). Remarkable what a couple years and better producers can accomplish, eh?

Galati - Silence [As A Din]

Databloem: 2018

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

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

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

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

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

Louderbach - Autumn (Original TC Review)

M_nus: 2009

(2019 Update:
I was a bit off on that Depeche Mode comparison, but beyond that, everything in this review holds up, as does this album for a little bleak sonic artistry in your life. What boggles my mind, though, is how Troy Pierce essentially faded from music making after this. Not just as Louderbach, but in totality. Aside from a smattering of singles shortly after this album's release, Troy's Discoggian data vanishes - I'm not even sure how much he remained involved with Items & Things after he founded it with Marc Houle and Magda. I know he'd become somewhat jaded over techno's direction, but surely not so much that he'd abandon it completely. Such a shame, as he was one of the few 'minimal tech' dudes I actually liked from that insufferable era. Would have been interesting hearing how his sound developed in a post-Berghain era, or even where he'd have taken Louderbach. As for Gibby, he's kept active in the visual industry, but it seems this project was the height of his vocal career. Oh well.)


IN BRIEF: Feel the gloom.

Hey there, how’s it going? Oh, not bad. Lovely weather today, isn’t it. You know that it’s going to turn to rain soon, right? Yeah, I know there’s not a cloud in the sky, but trust me, it’s going to turn damp and overcast soon enough. It won’t be a nice summer shower either, but a long, soaking downpour that will chill you to the bone. Yeah, I suppose it’ll make the grass greener afterward, but all of that lush vegetation is just the byproduct of artificial growth; it’d be green in a desert with all the chemicals saturated in those soils - which, by the way, will dissolve into the rain water as it seeps into the water table, where it will eventually make its way into our drinking reservoirs and finally into our taps as we unconsciously consume these toxins, allowing them to slowly erode our body’s health with cancer until we die from it. Oh, and your favorite sports team won’t win a major championship ever again.

Alright. Have I sufficiently depressed you, my dear readers? If so, then perhaps you’re now in the proper mood to listen to the new Louderbach album titled Autumn. Okay, so it isn’t really that depressing, but in exploring their inner goths, music-man Troy Pierce and vocalist Gibby Miller have conjured up quite the gloomy sophomore effort.

On one hand, this is actually quite beneficial because it’s different from so much of what you’d expect from the M_nus camps these days; instead of a collection of minimal tech that will be forgotten in a year’s time, there’s actual songs on here! More than that, though, is Pierce has eschewed many of contemporary techno’s clichés, which shouldn’t come as a surprise as he’s been one of the biggest critics of plink-plonk-hiss ‘minimal’ for a few years now. As one of the individuals who helped nurture minimal’s early rise in popularity, it’s a safe bet he’s been patiently hoping all the tourists clear out soon. In the meantime, he's taken the time to indulge in another scene altogether: industrial-goth.

If you’ve ever had a passing familiarity with that scene, much of Autumn will come across as old-hat. The murky atmosphere, Depeche Mode-like lyrics, and choking drone-experimentation seem directly lifted from the late 80s - third track One Hundred Reasons could have easily been an early Delerium tune (back when the group was more known for their industrial project Front Line Assembly). Heck, even the cover art seems heavily inspired by 4AD’s output. And this is all perfectly fine. Pierce adds just enough fresh wrinkles into the sound, especially excellent bass grooves, keeping things from sounding too much of a blatant style-bite; it’s apparent he’s got a genuine fondness for this sound, even if his minimal techno career prevented him from exploring it more.

As for Gibby, he too seems to understand that, when it comes to goth-inspired vocals in dance music, it is best not to take things too seriously. I can honestly say I don’t pay much attention to such lyrics, nor do I have any desire to search for a ‘deeper’ meaning; a lot of it is pretentiously dark poetry anyway. So long as his singing simply adds to the atmosphere of a track, he could be going on about walking his dog for all I care. Aside from the opener Autumn and She, Gibby seems to throw a knowing wink to the audience that this music is meant for light escapism rather than deep contemplation. (at least, I sure hope that’s the case…)

Speaking of She… yikes! I don’t know what got into Pierce’s head, but this is one seriously disturbing track. I can actually feel myself suffocating as this one plays, which either makes it devilishly great, or one I’ll never want to unearth again; rather like one of those psychologically terrifying movies.

There’s a couple other odds and ends to Autumn, like the Juan Atkins inspired Nothing More Than A White Poison, which seems out of place given the theme of the rest of the album, but overall I’ve covered the gist of things. It’s a short album that doesn’t stray far in tone, though arranged such that it doesn’t get dull; that is, provided you buy into the whole goth atmosphere. And that’s where some problems arise.

For the minimal techno groups, Autumn will come as a breath of fresh air (despite that air being musky, damp, and carrying the scent of wood-rot): it is, after all, something different from the norm. Label-honcho Hawtin sure seems to believe in this album, having commissioned a whopping seven remixers for the lead single Shine; even mainstream records don’t get that many right off the bat. Yet despite nothing to fault with the music on hand, long-time goths aren’t going to be nearly as enthralled. Any number of albums released in the past twenty years have touched on these themes and sounds with various results; Louderbach falls somewhere in the higher end of the middle of that pack. Plus, you can’t help but wonder if the goth scene will accept Pierce and Miller with open arms, or figure them as much of tourists as all the ‘minimal’ producers that sprung up a couple years back.

Whatever the case, Autumn is a fun little album to throw on if you want to get in touch with your depressive side, but generally too singular in tone to be a compelling listen in any other setting.

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

Delerium - Archives, Vol. 2

Nettwerk: 2001

I know the album Poem from Delerium has its fans, but for me it was a watered-down retread of Karma. After learning that Rhys Fulber had 'left' the partnership to pursue his own Conjure One project, I figured Delerium done. Joke's on me, Leeb and Fulber reconvening and adding four more albums to the Delerium discography since. Can't blame me for such an assumption though. When retrospective compilations hit the market, it's only natural to think a group is moving on.

Thus were my thoughts with Archives, released just after Poem, and seemingly as a stamp on the Delerium saga. Archives Vol. 1 would naturally cover all of their cross-over material (three albums is usually enough to cobble together a greatest hits package), while Vol. 2 would take a surprising dive into Delerium's pre-Nettwerk era. At least, that's what I assumed, hence why I only sprung for this collection and not Vol. 1. Turns out Vol. 1 reached even further back, when Leeb's pairing with Fulber had just started Delerium as little more than a side-project to Front Line Assembly, material only the earliest followers of their music would be aware of. That's remarkably bold of Nettwerk, assuming interest in the group had grown so substantial, they could capitalize on stuff in stark contrast to radio-friendly ethno-chill tunes featuring Sarah McLachlan. Maybe Leeb curried favours from the label, resuscitating stuff from his defunct Dossier print before Cleopatra somehow claimed total ownership over it.

What's interesting about Archives Vol. 2 is it also captures Delerium in transition. It covers three albums from their discography: Spiritual Archives, Spheres and Spheres II, the former essentially capping off their dark ambient period. And boy does it show on the track Drama, creepy industrial clank and melodramatic orchestration the name of the game there. Ephemeral Passage goes for the ominous yet angelic mood music, whereas Aftermath and Awakenings sound like the Front Line Assembly downtempo b-sides Delerium was.

Spheres, meanwhile, found Leeb and Fulber moving beyond the dusty catacombs and gothic planes in search of the outer realms of their muses. For sure it's still dark ambient, but spacier, emptier; music for traversing the Stargates of the Old Ones. Look, they ain't subtle about this, one of the tracks titled Monolith, and using the air ventilation sound effects from 2001: A Space Odyssey. To say nothing of the failing life supports beeping at the end of Hypoxia. There's some interesting ideas floating about the two Spheres showcases (almost the entirety of Spheres II is included on CD2), but some tracks seem to go on and on with no clear focus. Lots of weird sci-fi sound-effects, decent trip-hop beats, some toying around with acid and Delerium's distinct ethereal synth pads. The pure ambient pieces are quite lovely though.

Still, the most interesting take with the Spheres portion of Archives Vol. 2 is “they were making this concurrently with Semantic Spaces?” Makes you wonder what their future would have held had the Nettwerk debut flopped, doesn't it.

raison d'être - Within The Depths Of Silence And Phormations (Redux)

Cold Meat Industry/Old Europa Cafe: 1995/2013

I wouldn't call Peter Andersson a giant in the realm of dark ambient, but dude's definitely seen some shit. His early career had him doing industrial, EBM and sound experiments under various aliases, which naturally led him to doing dark ambient under other various aliases. In recent years, he's created more aliases to explore other facets of the industrial scene, but throughout it all, raison d'être has been his most prominent project. Atomine Elektrine and Stratvm Terror (with Tobias Larsson) give it competition in terms of total output, but at twenty-five albums under the guise, Mr. Andersson's other handles have some catching up to do.

I'd like to say Within The Depths Of Silence And Phormations is the raison d'être album that came highly recommended, was given the ultra re-issue treatment for its Very Important status in the annals of dark ambient, but I can't confirm that. For one thing, quite a few albums from that era of his has seen the re-issue treatment, especially those that came out on the now defunct Cold Meat Industry print. There's also little in this particular album I hear that signifies it being a giant leap forward in Peter's songcraft compared to what came before. And while I'm sure there are those who hold Within The Depths... as the best release from raison d'être, without taking in everything from him during this period of work, I cannot confirm such a proclamation. Nay, I honestly only scooped this album up because, as I was perusing an online store, I saw a boat on the cover. If there's one thing I've learned about dark ambient, always buy the albums that feature boats on the cover – they're like the Saturn beauty shots of the genre.

So diving in with no idea of what I was diving into, I was immediately struck by a steady drum beat and Gregorian chants. I didn't know what to expect, but I certainly wasn't expecting ritualistic dark ambient. Incidentally, the track is called Sephiroth, and considering this came out in 1995, it makes me wonder if Nobuo Uematsu is somehow a raison d'être fan. No, just a coincidence, I'm sure.

The album mostly flits between intense chanting pieces and droning atmospheric dark ambient compositions, painting a remarkable canvas of a church society on the verge of crumbling ruin. Not just in the field recordings and orchestral additions either, but also the sporadic dialog samples too – something about murder and the like. It all rather reminds me of Delerium's older works, but with a stronger narrative from start to finish and less noodly experimentation. Cool stuff, if you like depressive dark ambient with hooded monks in the periphery.

This Redux version includes a bonus disc of assorted material released around the same time. It's mostly of the same variety of dark ambient – repeated chants, minimalist drone, melancholic melodies, though under-produced compared to what's on Within The Depths.... Having a specific tale to tell can do wonders for one's presentation.

Kriistal Ann - Cultural Bleeding

Wave Records: 2015

Kriistal Ann can't remain in synth obscurity. I'm sure experts in coldwave scenes or darkwave scenes or 4AD scenes could point to '80s talents that exuded pure Gothic charm and dread, tut-tutting that Ms. Michailidou isn't anything new. Maybe so, but in our contemporary times, such music remains ultra-fringe. Hearing any vocalist with such distinct flair is even rarer, thus how can Kriistal not leap out of a black-n-white YouTube video like the spectre from The Ring, dragging you into some pagan autumn ritual by graveyards and cathedrals.

I feel like it's only a matter of time before a major label exec comes sniffing around the Werkstatt Recordings offices, hearing upon the easterly winds of a dark muse surrounding herself with undeniably low-grade production standards. They won't care that it's part of the music's appeal, the bare, brittle rhythms and out-of-tune synth strings adding to the cold, Gothic aesthetic Ms. Michailidou has crafted into her own fiefdom. They'll ignore the fact she's already four solo albums deep with the Greek print, not to mention her work with label head Toxic Razor in Paradox Obscur and Resistance Of Independent Music, plus François Ducarn in Sine Silex. All they'll see is a female talent generating some underground buzz, ripe for exploitation if they can just mould her to fit their schemes. Yeah, good luck with that – save a sudden revival of The Crow or The Craft franchises, this brand of ultra electro-Goth ain't generating dollars anytime soon. And even if it could, studio-sleeking it up will only ruin that which makes it so intriguing in the first place. We don't want our coldwave sounding so fresh and so clean - it's gotta' be deep in the muck and dirt, making you writhe with the worms. Wait, why am I talking like I'm some expert on this scene? I've barely dipped a pinkie toe into these icy, black ponds reflecting pale moonlight.

Anyhow, Cultural Bleeding is Kriistal Ann's third album, and her only solo outing not released by Werkstatt. Oh no, my ridiculous scenario came true! Heh, no, this was put out by Wave Records, a Brazilian outfit. How they came into contact with a Greek synth/cold/dark/industrial peddling the same sort of sound, I haven't a clue – Hell, I didn't even know Brazil had such a scene going for it!

The material on Cultural Bleeding is slightly better produced than her outings on Werkstatt, but not drastically so. There's still the bleak atmospherics, claustrophobic electro rhythms, and grand Gothic, operatic words of Kriistal's voice, selling lyrics like “This is the end of things; Now at least, I know the truth”, and “Once more an ancient tragic, bard recall; In boldness of design surpassing all”, and “Je fais le deuil d'une fleur; Repousses le sort; Et te dis lalala”. There's even a track sung in ancient Greek, Αντιγόνη! It honestly makes about as much sense as her broken English to my ears, but Kriistal doesn't sound any less entrancing in the language.

Marnie - Crystal World

Les Disques Du Crépuscule: 2013

This is what I mean. Just look at this cover! I know that's Helen Marnie posing there, a somewhat sultry glance your way with latex (rubber?) leggings propped high against the wall. It's something I can easily see a fly-by-night pop starlet do, but the lead singer of Ladytron? The band that's maintained a stoic aesthetic no matter what era of their existence (including that Yo Gabba Gabba! guest spot ...yes, really!). My brain has a difficult time processing it, adjusting to a Ms. Marnie that didn't know could exist. Like, was she always lurking there all along, but didn't want to upset the Ladytron apple cart in all these years? Had she not fallen in with those synth dorks, might Helen have taken a stab at a solo album much earlier in her career? Would such a solo career have led her to retro synth music just the same, or might she have been lured elsewhere, like Brit-pop bollocks? Eh, I can't imagine that, no matter what twisted time-line we find ourselves in. Her muse definitely seems fixated on the ethereal synth-pop of 4AD lore.

Besides, if you squint your ears enough, Crystal World isn't that far removed from the roads Ladytron had been travelling up to that point. She already has fellow 'Tron member Daniel Hunt helping her out in the studio, so really Ms. Marnie's debut solo is like a Ladytron album, just without the other lady or the guy who adds much of the 'tron' to the sound. A slickly produced and polished record, then, retaining much of the songwriting but unencumbered by ultra-retro analog synth noises. Now now, not everyone's a fan of modular Moogs.

Thus the album opens with a sweeping ethereal cry, building upon soft synths and rhythms thick with '80s reverb. Marnie finally drops some poetic nuggets about being The Hunter, and oh man oh man am I ever getting Clannad flashes here – the band, not the anime. Damn, the Irish synth-folk group is even fronted by a lass named Máire Ní Bhraonáin. Too much coincidence for one brain to handle, mang!

Crystal World isn't a total throwback though, production more contemporary than even Ladytron's output typically is. We Are The Sea features a sludgy electro-pop beat, while tracks like High Road, Violet Affair and Submariner touch upon the indie scene's fascination with '60 dream pop. Heck, Submariner sounds like something off Gorillaz' Plastic Beach.

In fact, there's a lot of familiar songwriting on here, melodies that you'll swear you've heard elsewhere (dear God, is Sugarland ever driving me crazy that way). That's not to say Marnie's style-biting, as she owns every piece of music she sings and crafts here. There's just little in the way of challenging synth-pop on hand, Helen more focused on the lyrical content of her work. And hoo, do I ever get swept away by her voice, but then I did even when she sang about mundane things like taking girls to movies. No blame.

Halgrath - The Whole Path Of War And Acceptance

Cryo Chamber: 2014

Halgrath already has the distinction of being among the first artists invited into the Cryo Chamber fold, her Out Of Time album released when the label was almost nothing but Atrium Carceri and Sabled Sun releases. With her sophomore effort for Simon Heath's print, she added another first to her accolades: an album containing cover art with actual colour! Green trees! Blue skies! Contrasting white, making the colours pop! Alright, it's still a tad muted and shadowy, but compared to the typically bleak, black, grimy brown, blood-red grayscale most Cryo artwork entails, The Whole Path Of War And Acceptance is practically hot neon. Strangely, I haven't seen another Cryo Chamber album utilize such a colour-scheme ever since. Has Halgrath claimed a monopoly of healthy green trees for the label's cover art? Guess it pays to call 'dibs' on such things.

While Out Of Time was a fine showcase of Ms. Agratha's various takes on dark ambient's myriad moulds, at twelve tracks it had a tendency to wander as an album, its loose 'Limbo' theme never quite coalescing into a strong narrative. On this one, she's pared things down to a tidy eight, and boy does it make a difference. For sure she still indulges herself from dark drone to ethereal ambient to orchestral Occult, but all in service of this album's theme.

With a title like The Whole Path Of War And Acceptance, I was expecting something über-epic, like a tale of clashing countries and cultures, leading to cataclysmic battles and the dire consequences of such devastating destruction. Then I remembered two things. One: this is only eight tracks long, hardly enough space to parlay such a narrative. Two: this is dark ambient we're talking about, and the genre almost never depicts a grand, Game Of Thrones styled opera. But boy does it ever love detailing the apocalyptic aftermath, especially as told from the perspective of a lone survivor.

That's not what this album's about either, though. Nay, The Whole Path Of War And Acceptance is yet another introspective piece, and apparently a rather personal one at that. Essentially a retelling of dramatic events in one's life ('war') and the struggle to overcome them to some semblance of self-healing (“acceptance”). In the hands of a lesser artist, this would probably come off sounding trite and cliche, but Halgrath is easily up to the task of telling this tale. There's moody, droning openers (Acceptance Of Inner Self, Consecreation), melancholic ethereal pieces (Afflatus, The Opposite Mind And Mutuality, Cold Breath Of Mountains), mournful piano dirges (Epic Journey And Oblivion), and meditative ambient closers (Deep Immersion And Repose, Your Soul Is Just A Particle Of Stars). Along the way, you get operatic chants, discordant strings, claustrophobic field recordings, and even occasional tribal drumming. Yeah, I'd say that runs the gamut of a Halgrath album.

Out Of Time was good, but The Whole Path Of War And Acceptance is great, offering a tantalizing sampling of everything dark ambient provides in a focused journey.

Fjäder - Shades Of Light

Shaded Explorations: 2016

I forget how I stumbled upon this. For sure it was via a Bandcamp link, but given my conservative excursions through the website, it wasn’t intentional. Perhaps it’s because Shades Of Light came out on a label called Shaded Explorations. It just so happens that I did a review for Shaded Explorer this past half-year, and some Bandcamp Googling for the latter may have accidentally led me to Ms. Fjäder instead. I do recall, however, that the moment I saw the CD packaging displayed, I was intrigued; a black cover with an intricate cut-out, and a simple cardboard sleeve slipped inside. It’s always nice when hopelessly underground artists take extra care in crafting their ultra-limited run hard copies. A very quick sampling of the music confirmed Shades Of Light was at least electronic, so I took the gamble and waited for the goods to arrive for audio consumption.

And this… I wasn’t expecting this. Something dubby and ambient, sure, as the brief clips I played suggested as much. But ethereal dub techno with live instruments? (Pianos! Voices! Strings! oh my) Is this even a thing? I feel like this should be a thing, but I can’t say I’ve come across anything like Fjäder’s music before.

The lass behind the moniker, Ida Matsdotter, has been making music for a few years now, her most prominent bit of exposure coming at the tail-end of a 4CD M_nus box set titled Enter.Ibiza 2015. Cool that she got to rub shoulders with the likes of Slam, Beltram, and the Plastikman himself on that particular set from TM404, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she went overlooked regardless. Still, a couple more appearances on various compilations, podcasts, and the odd single has given her a decent start in the world of techno, thus we now arrive for Album Time with her debut of Shades of Light.

Opener Yellow Cosmic Sun is a beatless, dubby, droning piece with various strings and vocal snippets fed through heavy, throbbing effects, feeling more of a meditative outing than something intended for club use. Second track तूफान केंद्रअ (Google translate tells me this is Hindi for ‘eye of the storm’) brings in ethereal chants coupled with a marching rhythm that sounds like it’s being dropped into digital water. World beat with a dub techno twist? I can dig it.

The one consistent element I’m hearing throughout Shades Of Light is no genre fusion is off limits, a remarkable strategy considering dub techno’s staunch, stuffy traditionalism. There are a couple examples of that deep, minimalist, rolling warehaus thump in tracks like Abyss and Dragonfly, but elsewhere Fjäder breaks those beats up into something more akin to experimental trip-hop (Talk To You, twelve-minute long Vintergatan). There’s ethereal ambient (Shades Of Light), crushing drone ambient (Venus), and feedback-fuzz ambient (Hjärtans Fröjd). I also quite like that she isn’t afraid to manipulate her voice to such a degree it’s almost unrecognizable from other layers of timbre. No ego here, my friends.

Banco de Gaia - The 9th Of Nine Hearts

Disco Gecko: 2016

I shouldn’t feel like Banco de Gaia’s last album, Apollo, is still a recent release. It’s been three years since it came out, and Toby Marks has provided us with numerous items in that time. Singles, remix albums, 20th Anniversary re-issues, expansion of his Disco Gecko print to include music from outside artists. For all intents the Banco & Co. brand has been busier than its ‘90s heyday, which should leave Apollo already a distant memory, this newer, fresher album of The 9th Of Nine Hearts tingling and tugging at my earholes in anticipation. That super-long gap between albums prior to Apollo must have jaded me some, figuring ol’ Toby had turned into one of those “eh, whenever” musicians that was content riding out his past works into the sunset of his career. Sure am glad this album proved me totally wrong on that front!

If Apollo was Mr. Marks finding his ‘90s mojo once more, then The 9th Of Nine Hearts finds him fully expanding upon it with all the song-writing skill attained since then. More consistent throughout, more nuanced in themes explored, more confident in reviving old ideas in service of a new era, this is the album casual fans had been hoping from Banco since… well, whatever they figure was his last, official ‘Best LP’. Pretty sure it isn’t anything from his wayward ‘00s era.

This one though, it’s got spiffy worldly beat-jams (Le Foucauld, No Hablo Italiano), rising proggish rock-jams (Burn The Witch), and throwback ambient dub with guest Pink Floyd saxophonist jams (The Princess And The Sky Goat - and yes, that’s Dick Parry horn tootin’ again). Then there’s ultra-throwback dance cut 91, where Marks teams up with vocalist Sophie Barker (of The Egg’s Walking Away fame) for a retro-rave tune that’s proper old-school acid house in tone, but nice and crisp for contemporary ears.

Amongst all these tunes are plenty of downtempo and ambient tracks that show off Banco’s matured songcraft over the years. Opener Nine Hearts has a widescreen, dream-pop tone with swelling synths and piano doodling. Bookmarking the album is another piano piece in This Heart, incredibly soft, gentle, melancholic, but strangely optimistic too. Not sure why it reminds me of Neil Young’s piano folk – maybe it’s my only real frame of reference to piano music of this sort?

Elsewhere, Warp And Weft gets all ethereal and trippy with Banco’s ambient dub, Midnight Sun goes full-on ethereal, and the middle portion of the album is highlighted by two contrasting pieces. Seriously, Is-Is Loves Anhk-An-Atum and So We Dream Of Futures Lost work so well together, I thought they were the same track on several early playthroughs. This actually happened with a few tracks on this album, 9th Of Nine Hearts one of the best flowing Banco albums in ages. In fact, if I’m to level any significant criticism against it, it’s almost too smooth for the amount of musical diversity on here. I can live with that.

Halgrath - Out Of Time

Cryo Chamber: 2012

See, that was a decent little gap between Cryo Chamber releases, at least a week’s worth of time before returning to the dark ambient label once more. The Dread Year 2016, however, demands no less than two morbid musical offerings on my homepage at all times, and woe be unto thee who dare besmirch the Dread Year’s decree. All this suffering I’ve endured throughout the month of November? ‘Tis my penance for indulging a Summer Of Trance, seeking epic uplifting refuge from our dire times. Thus I will not taunt moody serious 2016 any longer, keeping as steady a stream of dark ambient as need be. I mean, I can’t afford to lose hearing in both ears, now can I?

Halgrath (or Agratha Mirrait, if you wish) was one of the earliest additions to Cryo Chamber after Simon Heath launched the label in 2012, back when the print was mostly a means of self-releasing Sabled Sun and Atrium Carceri material. Makes sense Mr. Heath would invite Ms. Mirrait over, as they both were featured on Cold Meat Industry before that seminal dark ambient label folded. In fact, Halgrath’s Arise Of Fallen Conception was among Cold Meat’s final releases. There’s a ‘from death, comes rebirth’ metaphor here, I just know it. Comes with this scene no matter where you go.

Out Of Time marks Halgrath’s debut with Cryo, featuring the sort of dark ambient I’d long associated with the genre as its default stylee. There’s bleak droning pieces (Down, Here, He Led Me Through The Dark Caverns), noisy industrial sonic attacks (Dark Dusty Corner, Lethal Injection, The Resistance), and meditative compositions drawing upon the occult for inspiration (Horoathea Mass Of Aegorath, Deep Underwater).

This last one makes sense hearing on this album, Halgrath having a background in opera – exploring aspects of Dark Ritual is part her whole manifesto. I mean, if an opening track of Summoning Of The Goddess wasn’t enough of a clue, I don’t know what to tell you. I was honestly surprised Out Of Time didn’t have more of that ethereal ambient going for it, offering more variety within its twelve tracks than most dark ambient projects offer in their whole discographies. We even get cinematic orchestral pieces (Follow Eternity, The Light Of The Earth’s Spheres) and melancholic piano dirges (We’ll Go Through Sorrow, Holding Each Others Hands). Pretty sure that’s every sub-category dark ambient indulges in, save outright nightmare-inducing field recordings, though I’m sure Halgrath could do that too if she wanted.

Out Of Time isn’t really the album for that. Seems the themes explored here are about souls lost in limbo, wandering between life and death, uncertain of where their hearts pull forthwith. Or is it about those who’d use a ritual to journey within limbo itself? Such is the narrative I get as this album plays out, each piece another step in going deeper into the nether-realms beyond our own. Aw, it ain’t that bad on this side, is it? *2016 lurks over shoulder*

Aveparthe - Landscapes Over The Sea

Cryo Chamber: 2014

Time for my favorite type of dark ambient, that which gets geographical up in the house. Looks like this one’s got it all: cool coast lines, groovy ground carved by glacial processes, fluvial flows, probably all hanging out in some northern fjord too. Man, fjords are just awesome, all wavy and curvy and shit. They add so much coastal perimeter to your nation, several hundred or even thousands of kilometres of traversable landmass, all with impossibly steep hillsides plunging strait down into the deep black of cold oceans. Sure, the Oregon Coast may have some nifty dunes and eroded lumps of large rocks dotting its path, but there’s so little of it in total. Vancouver Island’s many fjords easily give the region a complete advantage in eroded lumps of large rocks. Look, it’s important for the lucrative postcard and wallpaper trades!

Okay, enough of the silly. While it’s true the concept of ‘untamed wasteland drone’ does appeal to me, it’s more for that sense of urban displacement than any sort of geographical porn. As with dark ambient focusing on deep space, there’s something captivating about unshackling your psyche from any and all human influence, losing oneself in the desolate emptiness of your surroundings. All from the comfort of my home, that is. Sure, I could make the actual trek to the Yukon tundra or alpine snows of the Coastal Mountains if I wanted a true isolation experience, but I like having a choice of six sushi restaurants within walking distance too.

The group Aveparthe hails from a fairly remote region of the world though, so they have some inkling of what it’s like having few ties to civilization at large. While info on Sádon is scarce, not so is the case with the other portion of this project, the charmingly named Astral & Shit (Ivan Gozikov). Hailing from the Russian city of Nevyansk, an administrative town on the eastern side of the Ural range, Mr. Gozikov has idled his time away making copious amounts of experimental noise and drone pieces under the A&S guise, some eighty-plus releases in the past half-decade alone. Throw in an additional eighty-plus releases as Demiurge Urizen, and you’ve got one ridiculously prolific producer. How nice of him to make time to collaborate with ol’ Sádon for a new project like Aveparthe.

Landscapes Over The Sea is their debut, on Cryo Chamber and in general. It consists of five tracks, two lengthy pieces breaching the seventeen minute mark (Nimbostratus, Full Of Sun), two shorter compositions running about three-and-a-half (Fog Machine, 1600), and a final eight minute track titled Turn. These are all straight-forward as far as ambient drone goes, growing and escalating with layers of pads, synths, field recordings, reverb, and timbre. There’s an ethereal quality to them all, especially Full Of Sun which utilizes chants as well. 1600 has a sparse tone going for it, Fog Machine obscures distant sounds, while Turn comparitively sounds luminous. Quite an abrupt ending though. Floating Points would approve.

Various - Strange-Eyed Constellations

Disco Gecko: 2015

A little late to the compilation game, aren’t we, Mr. Marks? True, it’s only in recent years ol’ Toby’s started using his Disco Gecko print as something more than an outlet for all his Banco de Gaia back-catalog, but this market has grown incredibly niche since he got his break on similar CDs way back when. You could find fashionable ‘ambient collections’ with distinct themes on nearly every store shelf in ’92, but while there’s no drought for new material these days, you don’t see much consolidation of the music beyond label manifestos. Tobes mentions in this CD’s liner notes a long-gestating intent at doing something similar to the old Ambient Dub series though, so better late than never?

Still, Strange-Eyed Constellations doesn’t have much concept behind it other than being a gathering of musicians and music that Mr. Marks fancies. This ranges from long-time compatriots like Andy Guthrie and James Eller, more recent associates like AstroPilot, Dr. Trippy, Temple Hedz, and Andrew Heath, plus inclusions from completely new-to-Discogs names like Project Transmissions and Oombata Key. Now that’s how you diversify a compilation: lure ‘em in with the familiar, exposing the overlooked in the process. Toby’s done his research here.

As we’re dealing with the man behind Banco de Gaia, Strange-Eyed Constellations obviously features a lot of ethnic-fusion sort of music. Hah, no, Marks has evolved some since those Last Train To Lhasa days, going far more ambient and musically abstract than cribbing a few worldly chants and slapping a dance beat underneath. AstroPilot’s opener Dum Spíro, Spéro does the space ambient thing, with the next clutch of tracks going rather ethereal. A song titled Sirens Of Lorelei, yeah, I’d be rather disappointed if I wasn’t getting the Wiccan vibe on, and that carries through Radium88’s The Future’s Bright, The Future’s Incandescent.

The middle of the compilation (stop thinking Starry-Eyed Sunrise, dammit), gets more to the ethnical influences, though are mostly subdued offerings of world music, much less ‘beat’ despite the nods to dubbier production about. Makes sense, given Marks’ longtime aversion to the term ‘world beat’ in the first place, and he doesn’t hesitate in throwing in a couple curveballs along the way (James Eller’s It’s Beautiful Mike, It Really Is is a dead-ringer for classic Pink Floyd). Dimensions from Temple Hedz is closer to the contemporary Banco mold, though given the two tracks Marks offers himself, what even is the Banco sound anymore? To The Nth Degree sounds like an amalgamation of Andrew Heath, AstroPilot, and Floyd, while Falling Tides under his own name sees ol’ Toby going full Heath for himself. Not to be outdone, Andrew closes the compilation out with a bit of planetarium piano doodling in Epiphany. Much lovely, ‘tis.

Strange-Eyed Constellations has a few fluffy, forgettable moments, with some tracks blending indistinguishably between others, but it’s definitely all in the Disco Gecko mold. If you figured Marks’ label was nothing but Banco de Gaia retreads, this compilation provides a proper ear opener.

Opus III - Guru Mother

PWL International: 1994

Opus III are known for two things: being responsible for early UK house hit It's A Fine Day, and Orbital sampling said hit for Halcyon (and on and on-om-nom). They could have been known for so much more though, had they carried on longer than two albums worth. The talent was definitely there, productions capably toeing the line between respectable club anthems and easy home listening. They had a marketable look with Kirsty Hawkshaw as the face of the group, a distinct voice and presence in a scene filled with pretty but unremarkable singers.

Kirsty though, she sensed the group getting a little commercial for her taste, and Opus III disbanded. Ms. Hawkshaw then went on to provide vocals for, um, BT, Tiesto, Lange, and Delerium. Hey, there's some respectable collaborations during that period too (Orbital-proper, Swayzak, Hybrid), but man, did trance producers ever line-up for ol' Kirsty's pipes. Not sure what happened to the other three members of Opus III though. Even Lord Discogs provides little.

Fortunately, they went out in fine fashion, their sophomore album Guru Mother a remarkable record for the year 1994. This is progressive house as its finding its footing, figuring out what it could be, and maybe getting a little ‘epic’ in the process. This is BT music before BT had made a name for himself with Ima, Grace music before Oakenfold got tired of the goa thing, and Renaissance music just as that seminal clubnight was making Sasha & Diggers deities behind the decks. There’s sing-along house anthems (Dreaming Of You, When You Made The Mountain, Hand In Hand), darker, chugging prog numbers (Outside, Guru Mother, Sushumna), ethereal trance groovers (Release The Joy, Elemental), and chill, bliss-out ambient pieces (Cozyland?, When She Rises). Listening to this album two decades on, I’m astounded Guru Mother isn’t talked up more as one of those Very Important progressive house records. Were Opus III really seen as that much of a one-hit wonder that all their other efforts were so dismissed?

Perhaps so. I certainly never gave Opus III much care in all these years. Heck, the only reason I’m reviewing Guru Mother now is because I noticed it during a recent used-CD shop splurge. Of course I knew of It’s A Fine Day, but that song wasn’t on here. And that cover, man does it ever look cheesy, more suitable for a medieval folk group than anything with a dance beat. Then I recalled a similar sentiment shared with a Rupert pal long ago. He’d bought Guru Mother solely for recognizing Opus III as the It’s A Fine Day group, and was surprised how much better the album turned out compared to that single. While I didn’t doubt his judgment of Guru Mother, I simply couldn’t get past that cover, much less the photo of Kirsty Hawkshaw looking like some woodland pixie on the back. Just no way Guru Mother could be class, no way at all.

God, was I an arrogant idiot sometimes.