Urban Meditation - Headspace IV

Carpe Sonum Records: 2022

Ah, here's where I thought things were headed. Honestly though, having the 'peak time' CD be the fourth one out of five does make the most sense. All the build-up leading to the climax, with a nice coda following, its a classic five-act structure, even spread out across five-plus hours of music. I guess you could treat Headspace like a streaming mini-series then, including that one episode in the middle that seems to lose the arc of the meta-plot for a time, the unnecessary bit of padding to reach an episode quota.

So if the radio telescope on the cover art wasn't a clue, technology is the theme of Headspace IV. And to make sure you know that's where we're going, the CD opens with a musique concrete ditty of various digital noises and effects, including that classic internet dial-up noise. Fair enough, but was four minutes of this really necessary? Whatever, Cranial Atmosphere properly kicks things off, and mostly follows upon similar neo-trance vibes as the Si Matthews collab's from Headspace II do. Percolating synth leads, steady techno rhythm, consistent escalation of mood and tone, and dang near sixteen minutes of it too. Again, there's some vintage Jarre songcraft going on, but this feels more modern than those seminal '70s works.

Now for this CD's guest artist, this time being Ambidextrous. Okay, second, Futuregrapher having a credit on that experimental opener, but I'm talking 'real' tracks here. I haven't kept tabs on Nick Zavriev since my mini-splurge on his music a couple years back, finding his sound at times a bit too clinical for repeated plays. He's remained active though, and Simulacrum finds him and Charles working a nice spacey electro vibe, while Thought Network towards the end gets more opulent with the synth work. Dang near overtly happy, come to think of it. Really selling that 'Utopian future' sentiment, eh? Maybe to serve as a contrast to the harsher electro between those two tracks.

Well, 'harsh' is doing some heavy lifting there. Nothing I've heard Urban Meditation would ever suggest negative or pessimistic outlooks, and the only criticism of Data Age is being somewhat aimless as techno. Information Super Highway though, ain't nothing but chipper, happy vibes with a bell melody as a lead and bouncy rhythm like that. Man, the '90s were so optimistic about our technological marvels and possibilities, weren't they.

Or maybe not, closer Searching For Connection a little more sombre and reflective as an ambient piece. That no matter our achievements in the digital realm, we'll always yearn for intimacy in meat-space. Relations not defined by scrolling and follower counts, but those all-too brief moments of soulful meaning. Gosh, when did Headspace IV turn into a Vector Lovers album?

Anyhow, this is probably my favourite of the five, though it's not without its minor issues either. Like, how does it feel shorter than the actual shortest Headspace III? One too many experimental interstitials? Weird how that works.

In The Face Of - The Formless

self-released: 2024

(A Patreon Request)

Not also a 'skip the queue' one at that, but this requester, oh they're clever. Rather than have their item sit somewhere in alphabetical purgatory for who knows how long, they have me covering an album that slots damn near the front of the current queue. See, folks, there's always ways to manipulate established systems to your own favour! Or it could be just a massive coincidence the request coincided with my backlog's current status. Be one heck of one if so.

In The Face Of is David Miller, a rather new project for the chap, though how long he's been an active producer, I'm not sure. There isn't much info on him on his Bandcamp page, and good luck finding out which David Miller he is within Lord Discogs' tomes.

Pretty sure he's not the Scottish David Miller of FiniTribe, nor the classical theorbist David Miller. Guaranteed he's not the old-timey West Virginia guitarist David Miller (he dead), much less the label mogul David L. Miller (also dead). More alive is the country bassist David Miller out of Texas, also the Juilliard graduate classical viola player David Miller, but odds are In The Face Of isn't them. Hmm, there seems to be a running theme of David Millers at least being capable musicians with string instruments, so maybe this David Miller is too. But then there's a trumpeter David Miller, a hip-hop singer David Miller, and a 'pop-opera' tenor David Miller! How many David Millers do we have on this website anyhow? Thirteen... twenty-one...forty-four... sixty-one... seventy-four... eighty-three... My God...! I've fallen into a multiverse of David Millers!

What I do know about this particular David Miller is his influences for this debut album, specifically the industrial and dark ambient sonic experiments of Zoviet France and their offspring (Rapoon being my usual go-to). That's definitely in my wheel-house, forever fascinated by the sound collages invoking imagery of societal collapse, but it's a delicate balance. Under-production can leave it sounding hollow, while going too far the other way leads to noisy power electronics, a scene I really don't have much time or use for in my regular listening habits.

Fortunately, The Formless mostly hits that sweet middle-ground, where the overbearing presence of atonal drone never completely extinguishes whatever musical ideas Mr. Miller offers up. Don't get me wrong, closer Golden Dawn grinds things out with the best. Most tracks keep things on a more subtle tip though, where rhythms have room to march along, samples are clear even when warped, and the melancholic harmonies seep through the digital effects.

While each track is distinct and the album's overall tone is consistent, it's another one of those experimental drone outings that really isn't the easiest to detail. There's only so many ways I can type “industrial grit” or “dark ambient atmosphere” before it grows redundant, which kinda' defeats the purpose of an LP titled The Formless anyway. More of a 'vibes' session, as the yoot' might say.

Rapoon - Fallen Gods

Staalplaat/Abstrakce Records: 1994/2021

Jumping all around Rapoon's catalogue has yielded plenty of interesting items now, but man, I just can't help but keep returning to Vernal Crossing the most. Something so primal, so instinctual ...so, dare I say, erotic. I keep wondering is there anything else like it in Mr. Storey's storied career, when the answer is so bluntly obvious, I'm astounded it took me this long to realize it. Or maybe I was subconsciously biding my time for a digital remaster to emerge. Sure, let's go with that, a seductive, subliminal message lurking within Vernal Crossing Revisited suggesting I bide my time before returning to this era of the Rapoon tale.

While there's plenty to be said about most of the early Rapoon records, I feel like Fallen Gods gets a little overlooked. It doesn't have that 'new concept' freshness the debut Dream Circle does (an album that's seen a triple-LP reissue!), which follow-ups Raising Earthly Spirits and especially Vernal Crossing maintained. If anything, because Fallen Gods came out the same year as Vernal Crossing, it couldn't help but get bypassed, the post-ecstatic glow of the former record still permeating upon the public consciousness. Whoa, reign in the hyperbole there! It's a cool album, f'sure, but only a highly niche audience would be aware of it back when, much less today.

Still, I'm a little surprised Fallen Gods didn't get at least a little more attention outside the abstract ambient sphere – say, the tribal techno sect? Obviously it sounds little like what you'd hear out of the PWoG camps, but compared to the pure, loopy nature of his previous works, Rapoon has added something more of a propellant rhythmic pulse to all the sampled drums and primal sounds.

Opener certainly seems to build upon the Vernal Crossing formula, but feels more minimalist and dubby. Meanwhile, second track Iron Path is almost mechanical, its rhythms rather jerky and coerced into its loop – and still, all performed rather spaciously, as though letting the drums be the dictating force. Rapoon had always used rhythmic loops before, but seldom such that they were the dominate feature, preferring to focus on the general atmosphere of his compositions. And as if to put an exclamation mark on this different direction, the titular cut features drum work that is almost thunderous, as though the sky spirits themselves are descending upon the populace below.

If Fallen Gods was primarily of this tone, I could see it having more attention over the years, but it kinda' waffles after. There's pure ambient drone pieces (Breathing Gold), tracks that sound like left-overs from the Vernal Crossing sessions (Sacrement, Valley), and a dalliance into what I assume is a Bulbul tarang solo: one mostly unmanipulated, followed by a more 'traditional' Rapoon loop session. All neat stuff, absolutely, but doesn't leave the album with a dominate aesthetic compared to his other works. Which may explain why Fallen Gods didn't get the 'revisited' remix treatment either. Nothing left to further explore here.

Nacht Plank - Echo Ark

...txt: 2014/2022

For as much as I've talked about his labels, his collaborations, and his influence upon modern ambient techno circles in general, I sure haven't covered much of Lee Norris' solo work. Indeed, of the twenty-seven items I have tagged with his name within this blog's archives, only four are of Lee on his own. And most of those tend to be Nacht Plank items, though that's not terribly surprising as it's the alias he's most often released under. Yeah, Metamatics and Norken may have given him more early momentum, but Nacht Plank seems to be where he feels most free in his musical journeys.

And that may also be why I haven't come back to it often. Alien was an interesting album with analogue '70s weirdness going for it, but boy do I need to be in a particular mood to enjoy it. Which is more than could be said for the raw experimentation I heard on Broad Tape Band. And as for Third Sacraments Council, well, it's certainly a solid slice of hour-long ambient drone, but again, only good for particular moods (chiefly, 'sweepy beddy-bye time'). All this is to say I needed something rather particular for me to indulge in a Nacht Plank release again.

And this Echo Ark album, that certainly looked to fit the bill. Just the cover art alone, EPCOT Center as viewed through some alternate lens, already sparks so many creative possibilities. The near-naive optimism of Disneyfied retro-futurism, twisted into some abstract tonal counterpoint, a lasting legacy of human hubris in the face of a society deformed from its former glory. I'm not saying Echo Ark is all that – indeed, maybe Lee presents this album with just as much Utopian idealism as Tomorrowland always envision. Given these colour tones though, I suspect not.

Opening Shepherd Satelite is a rather tranquil start though, the analogue bleeps and bloops kept mostly to a steadying heartbeat while synth pads gently slide and glide throughout- Oh, wait, things just took a tonal shift. Now we're in weirdly ominous territory, with additional transistor chatter. Did... did something happen? Has the grand plan fallen upon hard times? Well, whatever the case, following that is a near twenty-six minute long excursion of tranquil field recording manipulations, melancholy synths, and even a little pitter-patter of rhythm burbling to the surface now and then. Aminita, the piece is called, and if it don't conjure primordial vistas as seen through some viewscreen on the Prometheus (the one orbiting Solaris, I mean), I don't know what will.

The rest of Echo Ark (three tracks averaging a dozen minutes each) play out in similar fashion: field recordings, wistful synth pad melodies, light use of experimental sounds and effects. Overall a rather pleasant outing, especially considering the more foreboding tone the second half of Shapherd Satelite suggested. I guess even Lee couldn't get quite as cynical as some do whenever talking about the overtly celebratory nature of EPCOT's future vision for mankind.

Various - Cottage Industries (A Neo Ouija Compilation)

Neo Ouija: 2000/2020

Humble beginnings for this humble label, a tidy single CD kicking off the continuing Cottage Industries series. Seriously, it just came out with its twelfth volume this past month, once again indulging in a triple-disc collection of... well, if you don't know what the deal with Neo Ouija's musical showcase by now, I don't know what else to say.

That does leave me wondering how Cottage Industries: Da' Kickoff fared when it first came out. Obviously it didn't have commercial aspirations – almost nothing with this much glitchy-twitchy rhythm making had much financial hope at the turn of the century. Surely though, the abundant twee melodies lurking underneath all the leftfield beatcraft would lure in many a passerby, melancholic moods in a rapidly digitizing age. Some, I wager, but if the original CD's Discoggian data is accurate, this was not a widely distributed compilation. Less than three-hundred folks claim to hold a copy, which is a shockingly low amount for a release nearly a quarter century old now. Or perhaps it never had much promotion in the first place, forever remaining ultra-niche in an already incredibly niche micro-scene, unable to gain the critical attention similar prints like Raster-Noton and Mille Plateaux attracted.

Does this make Cottage Industries: Comin' On Cool an overlooked gem within said scene? I honestly don't know, as my own interactions with it remain skint. I'm sure the CD has its die-hards proclaiming its genius, but nor have I seen it relentlessly name-dropped abroad. It just doesn't contain those essential tracks or artists a classic compilation needs for that demarcation. Sure, a few familiar names crop up: Geiom would go onto a decent career in future garage and dubstep, Clatterbox made his way into techno sets throughout the '00s, Yunx has featured in Nick Warren set, and that Lee Norris fella' collaborating with Geiom as the one-off Consumer Durable seems to have done well for himself. Other names are complete blanks to me, however, some of whom have sparse Discogs data beyond this CD. Sometimes its hard getting hype for names like Phonem, Penfold Plum, and Plod.

And I have to be honest: this era of clicks 'n cuts has long been hit or miss for yours truly. It's an aesthetic thing, the micro-glitchy sounds too often rubbing against my cochlea the wrong way. Not to mention I can't shake the assumption some of these producers are just showing off what they can do with whatever plug-ins or gear they're using, rather than composing an actual tune worth listening to. And there's only so much the twee melodies included can do to hide that postulation. Eegh, now look, this egg-headed music making me use egg-headed terminology.

It's not all skittery micro-edits, mind. Quinoline Yellow's Eythl Maltol goes more drill 'n bass on his beats, Clatterbox' Power Up gets on the chiptune vibe, while Yunx' Nemo-Sis sounds like a regular ol' ambient techno tune. Beyond that though, expect lots of experimental digital rhythms coupled with charming synths.

Various - Clockwork Manor (Cottage Industries 9)

Neo Ouija: 2019

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

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

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

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

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

Moss Covered Technology - Brick And Air

Audiobulb Records: 2022

I've gone on about all these other endless Bandcamp discography buys and box-set purchases, yet somehow have quietly almost completed another one just like that. Right, I didn't get the totality of Mr. Baird's material, only settling for a select few. Still, the handful I did wasn't a small amount, and now that I've nearly completed those, I find myself compelled to get more, just to complete the set. The fact he makes some captivating drone pieces doesn't hurt either.

Since it was the Neotantra album Sodium Light that first drew my attention to Moss Covered Technology, it's only fitting that I scope out its pseudo-sequel Brick And Air. I call it as such not just because it was the (year in the making) follow-up to the former record, but more that they cover similar themes, in this case the rather desolate isolation of urban night. This isn't really a concept Greig typically explores, more content casting his muse towards pastoral settings and foggy coast lands. And while I'm quite drawn to such settings myself (particularly the latter), I'm always fascinated by how some interpret wandering the cold concrete of back streets and dimly lit industrial sectors that make up our cities. Burial practically made it a whole genre, and fact of the matter is many artists find themselves residing in such locales. Some make music to escape, but others take it on, grimy alley gunk and steaming machinery steel warts and all.

In typical Moss Covered Technology fashion, Brick And Air came out on a totally different label from all his other works, this time Audiobulb Records. It's another one of those experimental prints that I barely knew existed, but has been in operation for two decades - is there really no end to such labels? A couple names I'm familiar with have appeared on Audiobulb (Darren McClure, Porya Hatami, Autistici) but most are utter blanks to my eyes. Artists like Otaru, Calika, Aria Rostami, Monty Adkins, :papercutz, Hans Van Eck, He Can Jog, A Dancing Begger, The Hole Punch Generation, The OO-Ray, and Craque.

As with most M.C.T. albums, each track is self-titled, though Brick And Air does come with an Intro and Outro as well. Anyhow, though I gave a Burial namedrop up there, this is most decidedly not in that lane of urban drone. Brick & Air I is almost modern classical, through fed through quite the haze of atonal hiss and analogue fuzz. II gets more glitchy with things, while distorted tones penetrate a gritty wall of static in III. Meanwhile, IV and VI feature more glitchy melodies, but V takes a turn towards the dark ambient side of things. I could totally hear this piece being featured in a God Body Disconnect album on Cryo Chamber, with additional field recordings of inner city existence among the distant harmonious pads. Hmm, now there's an intriguing label for Greig to appear on. Why not? He's appeared on Dronarivm, as has ProtoU. Drone ambient has all the connections, man!

Various - Annexe (Cottage Industries 2)

Neo Ouija: 2002/2020

Though the original run of Neo Ouija never made a huge splash across the world of electronic music, it was successful enough to garner a dedicated cult following while it lasted. Among the various releases that helped solidify said following was a series of compilations called Cottage Industries, three volumes worth springing forth during its initial heyday. Whenever the label would stir awake after many years absence, it was usually a Cottage Industries collection that would declare its arrival.

In fact, it's about all that Neo Ouija releases now, including digital uploads and CD re-issues of the early editions. I even bought a few, but for some reason, those CDs never showed up. Hmm, are those the items that got switched for all those Intellitronic Bubble CDs? I swear, I appreciate all the various labels Lee Norris juggles with these days, but there's sadly been a few too many missing orders as of late for me to buy any more from them. One more reason to just stick with digital, I guess.

Annexe (Cottage Industries 2) came out two decades ago, and boy does looking at the track list ever feel like a time warp. So many names within the ambient techno and IDM scene getting their start here: Sense, Ambidextrous, Bauri... Erm, that's honestly all I recognize off hand. Hey, can't be a proper cult label known for giving ultra-obscure artists within your scene their starts if you don't have a compilation series doing the work for you. Like, where would the likes of Biosphere, Autechre, Black Dog, and Speedy J be without Artificial Intelligence, right? Okay, pretty well-off regardless, but you know what I mean.

And just because I'm not familiar with them doesn't mean some of the featured artists didn't have fruitful future careers. Yeah, names like Phonex, Idmonster, Sica, Pem, and Qeshi didn't amount to much after, but Yellow6, Maps & Diagrams, Kettel, and Ilkae remain active to this day. By and large though, many of the acts on Annexe had respectable output throughout the '00s before petering off as the '10s took hold. So it goes.

Ah yes, the music. Lots of simple, charming IDM and melodic, glitchy techno. It feels like Neo Ouija was throwing a little bit of everything into the original double-discer, which is great in providing variety. When you're dealing with music as esoteric as this, however, much of it can slip on by during a casual listen. So it's no surprise tracks with more melody in them (Sense's Icyltap, ENV(itre)'s Atodeq, Kettel's Nestingbox Seventeen, Qeshi's Island Dryad, Maps & Diagrams vs Pem's Orteip) stick with me more than the more experimental stuff (Qeshi's Schem, Sica's Mykeys, Tandy's Bell_Libbing). One thing's for sure, if you like your micro-pop rhythms, Annexe has you covered but good. Xela's Don't Talk To Strangers, Bauri's Neo Robot Party Crash, EU's Lytop, Ilkae's Pilve, and so on. Not that it's surprising, the early 2000's pretty much peak micro-pop within IDM circles. Darn clicks 'n' cuts hype machine...

Various - tʌntrə x: Amrita

Neotantra: 2021

Oh my God! You know all those Bandcamp bulk buys I've done? Like, whole artist discographies, and such as? That's essentially buying a box-set! I've been covering multiple box-sets all this time without realizing it. And wouldn't you know it, as soon as I've wrapped up this tʌntrə box-set, I'll be kicking off another. No, not tʌntrə xx or tʌntrə xxx. Heck, the latter is already sold-out, and currently just one left of the former. Hold a sec'... *Jeopardy music plays* I mean, both are already sold out. I'm talking about that Natural Life Essence catalogue grab, containing some... well, a lot of releases. Not to mention that Suntrip Records haul as well. Hey, all those CDs came in a box, so it can count as a box(ed) set!

Anyhow, we've come to the end of this one, and boy, did it fly by fast. Can't believe we're already on CD5, but then it's not like the music within this collection insists upon itself. Much of it can float on by with barely any attention paid to it, which doesn't make it bad or anything. It's ambient music in its purest form, and if you can get more out of it than serving as the backing soundtrack to whatever activities you're engaged in, that's all the bonus. I've certainly come away from this with a couple more artists due for further exploration, but many others kind of just passed me on by. Sort of the issue I had with trying to dig into any of those Tʌntrə digital downloads in the first place, as I recall. Ah well, maybe the 'volume two' set will help sort things out further for yours truly, whenever I get around to that one.

The final set of tʌntrə x is subtitled Amrita. Hey, I know that word! It's the title of that Loop Guru album that changed my life! Okay, that's exaggerating some – more like affirmed my early 'big city bachelorhood' sense of self. Given that amrita is the Sanskrit word for immortality, it makes sense that I'd associate feelings of righteous invincibility listening to such music. Or something.

Honestly though, this Amrita set feels a bit aimless as it plays out. Oh, the music remains quite calm and soothing, as most of the music has throughout. I'm just not hearing the connective tissue between each track. We go from from pleasant ambient drone, to acoustic fuzz, to moody minimalism, to atonal abstraction, and so forth. It rather sounds as though Lee had some leftover pieces he felt needed inclusion, but didn't know where else to place them, so lumped them together here.

That includes one of those massive thirty-minute long tracks scattered about the Tʌntrə series to close us out, Leaf Calligraphy's Sonic Flames. To the sound of densely layered piano tone and a crackling fire, it's about as ambient as the genre can get. Wrap yourself in a snuggly blanket with some hot chocolate, as the lights fade out.

Various - tʌntrə x: Tanmatra

Neotantra: 2021

While we're on the topic of cover art (we are?), I'd like to mention the design adorning the actual box of this tʌntrə box-set. It's a very simple one, an upside-down triangle enclosed within a circle. On the outer edges, however, are two forms that at first glance look like pig-tails, lending the graphic to appearing like Buttercup from Powerpuff Girls (maybe it's the hot neon yellow of the CDs doing that to my brain). Given this box-set loves its geometrical art, I got wondering what those 'pig-tails' actually are.

They kinda' look like curvy braces, as used in function equations, but they're too rounded on the tops and bottom for that. The next closest I've found is a Cartesian graph representation of a logistic curve, it's inverse stacked on top. It certainly fits the model, but the 0,0 point is all wrong, starting too high, dipping down before doing its exponential growth curve upwards. Ergh, I feel like I should know what this shape is, but I only got as far as Calculus 2 in my college studies, so perhaps it's all beyond my scope of comprehension. Or it really is just Lee Norris having a bit of fun with shapes, arranging them into the form of Buttercup from the Powerpuff Girls.

Another tangent somewhat sorted, let's dive into CD4 of tʌntrə x, subtitled Tanmatra. Straight forward what this one is: the elements related to the five senses. As we're dealing with antiquity elements, that includes air for touch, water for taste, fire for vision, earth for smell (d'at some dank dirt, yo'!), and ether for sound. I find that last one a bit amusing, since 'ether' is sometimes translated as 'space', yet there is no sound in actual space. But hey, how were the ancients to know that sound is more closely tied to air?

While I wouldn't say each CD isn't thematically consistent with their subtitle, Tanmatra definitely is the most thematically consistent of them all. With clear transitions between segments, signalling movement onto another facet of tanmatra, this one has the most 'journey-like' vibes going for it, even if some of those gaps throw off the mixed set flow. Which element kicks things off, you ask? Hmm, good question, as opener Purple Skies from California Storm features something almost no other track in this entire box-set has: a rhythm! Okay, it's but a soft, dubby downbeat, but compared to all the beatless music elsewhere, it may as well be a breakcore gabber cut. Normally I'd associate rhythm with 'earth', but 'earth' in tanmatra relates to smell. Would that make this more 'air', then?

There's a couple repeat artists here, including N:L:E:, and Drifts In Autumn. I also recognize Yamaoka and Solipsism among this tracklist (was wondering when he'd show up), but again, a lot of unfamiliar names to my eyes. May want to check out that Mōshonsensu further though, his Notion Of Wonder quite lush in a fuzzy ambient sort of way.

Various - tʌntrə x: Dvandva

Neotantra: 2021

Yo', dawg, I hear you like reviewing box-sets while still reviewing box-sets, so here's another box-set to review while you're still reviewing other box-sets.

I mean, I guess I could have just “not” gotten this. I certainly have never felt compelled to get any of the tʌntrə digital compilations out of Neotantra, and there's plenty of them to freely nab off their Bandcamp, believe you me. In fact, I think that's partially why I never did. There's almost too much ambient music available in this series now, already up to volume twenty-six, often averaging over twenty compositions with some reaching upwards of twenty, twenty-five, even thirty minutes in runtime. It's a lot of ambient music, is what I'm saying. How much ambient music? Hell, two more box-sets of tʌntrə have come out since this one, also five CDs thick!

It's these box-sets, however, that caught my attention. Make no mistake, I'd love to gorge myself on the digi-comps, but I fear so much of it will fade into the background thrum of wallpaper music, never giving enough of it the attention it deserves. No, for my needs, I'd rather have all the choice cuts curated into thematic sets of reasonable listening duration.

That sorted, let's dive into CD1 of this tʌntrə box-set, subtitled Dvandva. What's 'dvandva'? According to Google, it's a Sanskrit term referring to compound words, and gets more complicated the deeper into linguistics you go. For the purpose of a compilation called tʌntrə, however, I assume it has more to do with yoga teachings of dualities. Or something.

Artists I recognize in this set include Specta Ciera, Martin Allin, Futuregrapher, Darren McClure, and Wil Bolton. I think I also recognize Off Land and Milieu, but haven't heard any of their stuff, at least to my recollection. Still, half of these twelve pieces are from artists I don't know, so great for discovery purposes, right? Sure, if I had a handy index of everything. Yeah, there's a tracklist, but as this is technically a 'DJ set' presented as one single track, everything's continuously mixed, even though most transitions are simple fades. I could studiously keep track of every transition, chronicling who's tune comes next and such as, but eh, that defeats the purpose of listening to ambient music such as this, doesn't it.

As for how Dvandva plays out, there does seem to be a push-pull of tone going on. A calm, tranquil piece will be followed by something a little more atonal, experimental, or abstract, then switch back to a more meditative flow of ambience, and so forth. Or maybe I've subconsciously created that theme thanks to the CD's sub-title. Hey, whatever it takes to give all these beatless, freeform compositions some sort of staying power within my psyche. Is this sustainable for four more discs though? Pft, I'm the guy that somehow managed to talk up Every. Single. CD. of a Pete Namlook tribute box-set. This'll be no th'ang, ha-hah, hah!

Kinder Atom - Super Nice Hippypants

Hypnotic: 1997

As a fairly dedicated consumer of Hypnotic's CDs for a spell, I crossed paths with Kinder Atom a couple times. The music conglomerate had been active in the Toronto techno and industrial scene for awhile, releasing music under other projects as far back as the '80s. The most prominent member of this group, Heiki Sillaste, also worked in such groups as Digital Poodle, Lazer Caps, and A.S.A. (yes, that's a deep cut) Oh, and they've also worked with Rapoon, on the year 2000 album Rapoon vs. Kinder Atom. Can't say that one's super-high on my 'Must Have' list, but should I ever spot a sweet deal for a copy (re: isn't saddled with ludicrous shipping charges), I may indulge.

Such was the case with this particular double-LP: Super Nice Hippypants. I have to admit, it was far from what I was expecting from Kinder Atom. Oh, not so much the music within, though it too surprised me in other ways. It's just, when you know a techno outfit has ties to experimental ambient and industrial dub, the last thing you'd go looking for in their cover art is something more akin to Japanese electro-pop.

Supposedly this is the logo of the label the group helped set up, Nice+Smooth, also plastered all over the inlay - so a bit of sly marketing on their part. Still, when what you're hearing has more in common with '70s synth weirdness, having something so cutesy as your visual representation probably isn't the best selling point. Like, imagine if Super Nice Hippypants had some vintage Fax+ art instead. I bet this album would be hailed a minor classic! Okay, maybe not, but not so easily dismissed either, I wager.

Anyhow, CD1 is the Supernice album, a seven-track excursion into bleepy electronics, swirly sound effects, and ambient dub. It all has a very Berlin-School feel going for it, spaced-out abstract music that appeals to the retro synth dork in me, some passages getting deep into Tangerine Dream minimalism. Again, had this appeared on a label known for the stuff, like Fax+, I could see it getting more positive attention as the years wore on. On Hypnotic though? Oh man, Kinder Atom's experimental ambient opus never stood a chance, did it?

Fortunately, CD2 Hippy Pants brings some electro boogie (Nipple, One Eleven, Juice Bar) spacey techno (Nikral, titular cut), and trip-hop funk (Phat Pants, June Bug) to the party. They even do a D'n'B in Run In Our Light! Yes, it totally clashes with CD1, such that you wouldn't believe it the same outfit were the two CDs not bundled within the same digipak. Such was the group's manifesto though, never beholden to one particular style. A bit rather like The Future Sound Of London in that regard, though clearly without the obsessive studio polish.

Kinder Atom's first album, Atomika, was more of a blend of their disparate sounds, but if you like your genres distinct and separate, then Super Nice Hippypants may be more up or alley.

Speedy J - Public Energy No. 1

Plus 8 Records: 1997/2021

It's weird to think of a Speedy J album as contentious, but as I scoured about for impressions of Mr. Paap's third album, that does seem to be the case. I get it though, I really do. G Spot was an almost impossible record to meet follow-up expectations with, at least without rehashing a bunch of the same ideas again. Jochem though, he don't play like that, always in a state of change and exploration (until he settled upon 4am bangin' techno as his bread 'n' butter). Still, while Public Energy No. 1 is far from as wild a departure from Speedy J of old as it could have been (just check out the singles prior to its release for an idea), it's certainly more abrasive than much of his previous catalogue.

You know you're in for something harder and challenging when opener-proper Patterns emerges. Things seem on a nicely tranquil, melodic tip for the lead in, then over-driven, distorted broken beats get bit crunched and digitally spewed back out into your face. Oh, we're doing that IDM thing, like Aphex Twin and μ-Ziq, are we? Well, sure. I mean, Mike Paradinas did offer a remix on Ni Go Snix, so it's only natural that some of those influences would start emerging into Jochem's sound. Still, unlike the remix of Patterns' single, there's more of a melodic through-line in the album version, keeping things at least a little accessible for those looking for more Fills.

There's a definite push-pull going on with Public Energy No. 1, Jochem clearly anxious to get more experimental in his techno outings, but still feeling it necessary to give his fans what they're familiar with. In-Formation carries on with the crunchier beatcraft, all the while maintaining an eerie atmosphere with airy pads. Pure Energy is basically Speedy J going big-beat. Drainpipe is basically Speedy J going trip-hop. Haywire hints at more digital abrasion, but still finds the time to work in some quite pleasant pad work, while Hayfever carries on the beats while saying nuts to anything melodic. And just to show these new-form sonic adventures aren't everything Jochem's been influenced by, Melanor's's sinewy ambience, Tesla's dusty ambience and Canola's abstract ambience reaches well into '70s synth weirdness.

And that's pretty much the album fully detailed, over and done in little over a paragraph. For sure the music's fine, but it doesn't have the same talking points as other Speedy J records do. Maybe some discourse about how Jochem continued evolving and all, but when stacked against his larger body of work, Public Energy No. 1 is very much a stepping-stone LP. The sublime melodic moments of records past, or the take-no-prisoners techno workouts of records future, simply aren't present here. I feel like this was a necessary album for him to get out of his system, to show he could continue down roads less ventured. Whenever I reach for a Speedy J album to play, however, this one doesn't sit high on the pile.

Mind Over MIDI - Outpost

Neotantra: 2019

Hey-hey, another Neotantra debut from an artist with a robust discography. This one I even know, having already covered Mind Over MIDI's Deep Map some years back. I've actually been meaning to return to Helge Tømmervåg's works for some time now, but he's another one of those highly prolific producers, making a dive into his body of work a bit daunting. For sure his Silent Season contributions are tempting, while his offerings on labels like Shimmering Moods Records, The Level Of Vulnerability, Berserk Fabrik and संस्कार Rites look intriguing. There's just so much of it though, ain't no way I'd be able to check it all out. ...unless, there's a bulk buy option at his Bandcamp page. Hmmm.... *checks* Oh, thank God, there isn't! I don't think I could take on another full-on discography just yet.

Honestly though, I hadn't planned to return to Mind Over MIDI with this particular album, having skipped on it when it first came out. Neotantra was releasing music at such a high clip that I couldn't keep up, so figured I'd focus more on names I was unfamiliar with if I was gonna' scope anything out. It wasn't until getting that Coercion Of Deities compilation that was reminded of Helge even had something out on the label. However, after listening to the gentle, flowing bell tones and soft, ethereal pad work of Subdivision, I knew I had to get the album from whence it came - Outpost - erm, post-haste.

Funny thing is that one three and a half minute track kinda' sums up the whole album, each piece variations on the same sonic ideas. I haven't dove deep enough into Mind Over MIDI's discography to know if this is just how Helge approaches each project, though I do recall Deep Map was similar in that regard. It doesn't make Outpost a deal breaker by any stretch, but if you're looking for an album with a bunch of variety on it, well, you certainly don't know how this branch of abstract, experimental ambient compositions typically plays out. Hey, at least Mr. Tømmervåg divies everything out into twelve, bite-sized chunks (Subdivision is one of the longer tracks on here!), and not some half-hour long meandering piece.

Obviously, there are subtle differences throughout. Opener Dawn To Dark is more of a dronescape. Closer Out Of Reach is a similar dronescape, but with a little more harmonic tone. Outpost 1 is a similar dronescape with brighter harmonic tones. Outpost 2 is a similar dronescape with gentler harmonic tones. Outline 1 is a similar dronescape with splashes of static. Outline 2 is a similar dronescape with sonic stutters and skips. Morning Tide reminds me of J.D. Emmanuel's Visions During Movement.

Okay, so there isn't that much variation, and for some reason, most of Outpost is recorded rather quietly too, as though you're hearing it from a distance. Still, cannot deny it being a nice, gentle bit of abstract harmonic sound while it plays. I'll take it.

Speedy J - Ni Go Snix

NovaMute: 1997/2021

The absolute limit ol' Jochem took his experimental side, this one. Of course, in techno circles of the latter end of the '90s, 'experimental' usually meant all manner of noisy rackets and wild distortions. Fair enough, the IDM leagues gaining plenty of critical praise and nifty Chris Cunningham videos for their efforts. Speedy J already had ties to the ranks of Aphex Twin and Autechre from his Artificial Intelligence days, so it'd make sense he'd find his way back there at some point, following similar paths they were already treading. Maybe rope in a couple like-minded chaps for a remix or two. Makes better sense than continuing to work with Banco de Gaia.

As an in-between single following G Spot, I have to imagine Ni Go Snix shocked a lot of folks. So much so that Jochem put a reassuring tag on the record that this was indeed, not, a new single for the up-coming album Public Energy No. 1. Don't worry, then, if it's not to your liking, it's just a one-off dalliance satisfying his need to go abrasive after all the plaudits for going so melodic on his last album. (or is it...!)

Well, just how noisy can one Speedy J track be? Pretty darn noisy, I'd say. Ni Go Snix is basically an electro track, but fed through so much distortion, you're hearing almost nothing but feedback on those bleeps and bloops. It's, like, electrocore, or electore. Ooh, that's one for the genre books! Look, if nonsense words like 'complextro' can get accepted, so can 'electore'. Anyhow, there honestly isn't much to this track beyond just how noisy Speedy J can make it, and with the Snix Mix, he makes it almost unbearably noisy indeed. This is, like hardectro!

Like A Tim doesn't do much with his remix, basically shuffling around the originals sounds for more of a freeform jam. Mike Paradinas, on the other hand give Ni Go Snix the good ol' µ-Ziq treatment, speeding the beats up to his brand of hyper drill 'n' bass action, then throwing in some spastic pad work and twee melodies in support, lending the track a rather Baroque vibe. Y'know, vintage µ-Ziq.

The CD version of this single – and by extension, the Bandcamp upload I snagged - did include a couple remixes for a track that appeared on the forthcoming Speedy J album: Hayfever. The Izm Mix by the hopeless obscure Jeroen van Dorsten turns in a future-shock heavy breaks tune that sounds like what The Future Sound Of London might have done to a Speedy J track if given the chance. The less obscure Sefan Robbers, meanwhile, maintains the future-shockiness, but opts for something a little more drum 'n' bassy, and is quite the sky-high mellow vibe after having gone so through much aural assault prior. How do these remixes stack against the original Hayfever? Heck if I know, I haven't heard Public Energy No. 1 yet. We'll find out soon enough!

Anzio Green - Lygan

...txt: 2019

You know what this label needed more of? Cover art with the colour blue in it. Yeah, there was a little, scattered about, but I can't say I was compelled to grab these based on cover art alone. Ishqamatics' Waterbound has some blue, but lots of green and aquamarine too, so not a true-blue piece of business there. Hakobune's How Slowly We Regret, that's got a whole lotta' blue, but it's also one of those single-track, hour long drone piece albums, a form of music I'm not keen on grabbing often.

Nay, it seems green has been ...txt's preferred colour of choice (erm, when they do primary colours at all). Plank & Ishq's Zeal Monachorum and Crows An Wra series: lots of green! Reverberant Evenings' After The Silence, plenty of green. Nacht Plank's Echo Ark, a weird green for the sky, but green nonetheless. Wil Bolton's Viridian Loops, green all over that hillside. Heck, even the project I'm dealing with here has 'green' right in their name! Talk about a green agenda!

Anzio Green is a duo consisting of Wil Bolton and Mark Streatfield, who seem to convene for a studio session once every half-decade, this Lygan being their most recent effort. Mr. Streatfield had a rather fruitful career in the '00s making dub techno as Cyan341 and ambient techno, glitchy-hop, IDM musics as Zainetica. Mr. Bolton, on the other hand, has crossed paths with this blog a few times, mostly in collaboration with various Lee Norris projects. Not sure what brings the two together for their intermittent Anzio Green outings, but hey, here's another one for those itching on a follow-up to A Day Without Distance.

Some simple guitar tone plucking and overdub effects opens things up on Marshlands, various layers of droning timbre riding along waves of dub reverb carrying the piece along. Some midway through the eleven-plus minute long track, a melody of sorts emerges, in that abstract, Berlin-School sort of way experimental synth works like to go. Navigations – Part One goes heavier on the abstract layers of sound, but a clear ominous vibe permeates the proceedings. Which is more than can be said for Part Two, getting heavier on the experimental musique concrete blasts of tone and timbre.

I was honestly ready to lump Lygan into my “interesting, but not one worth returning to often” pile of CDs when the titular track caught me off guard. Lovely ambient acoustic guitar playing, building tension through oddball dub electronics, string pads escalating the mood towards the end ...now this I dig. The piece also morphs in such a way that I couldn't tell if the various sounds were either playing regular or in reverse – probably both at times. Final track Bright River features a steady rhythm with a nicely depressive vibe of dub tones, capturing the foggy mood of the cover art better than anything else on the album. Congrats, Lygan, you're rescued for my “interesting, play on rainy days” pile of CDs instead!

Solipsism - Kismet

Carpe Sonum Records: 2018

So now Solipsism. Ever since I took a dive into the extended Lee Norris Ambientverse, this is a name that's floated about my periphery. Like, it's hard not to notice an alias that reminds me of some of the more tedious discussions I engaged in during university philosophy courses. Not to mention simply being a word that would leave one drenched should it be uttered by Sylvester The Cat.

Seriously though, the Craig Murphy project has existed for nearly two decades now, spending much of the '00s releasing several digital-only items on labels like Herb Recordings and Ambidextrous Records (no relation to the artist Ambidextrous). He finally landed a CD roll-out debuting on Mr. Norris' ...txt print, and the two went on to collaborate on a few more albums, sometimes as their separate aliases (Nacht Plank in Lee's case), or as a totally unique project called Ashtoreth's Gate. Hmm, name sounds dark ambientish, that one. May need to investigate further.

Anyhow, Solipsism is a project that I probably would check out proper-like at some point, should the right record entice me further. And leave it to Carpe Sonum Records to publish that CD, Kismet luring me in with yet another striking bit of geometric architecture. The blue-hued cover art didn't hurt either. As for how Mr. Murphy got his stab at a Carpe Sonum outing at all, well hey, it's right there in the title, is it not? Also, Kismet isn't actually an album, but a compilation of several previous works released under the Solipsism banner, some reaching as far back as 2008. I admit I didn't know this going in, but hey, makes for a handy sampler of his music now, and Carpe Sonum has often proven capable of weaving an artist's back catalogue into their own flowing LPs.

Even though I'm fairly certain Solipsism is an ambient artist, I wasn't sure what brand of ambient I might be in for. Considering he's worked with Nacht Plank, I was expecting a few dalliances into the more experimental side of the genre, and sure enough, a few tracks go there. Beachcomber starts out with some nice, subtle tone, but gets rather distorted towards the end. It's not nearly as annoying as The Space Between Atoms though, which doesn't waste much time before piercing your ears with quite grating noise between musique concrete transistor twerps. A shame, because the rest of that track does feature some nice, soothing passages of opulent synth drone.

Those are the only two egregious examples though, and are nicely spaced apart so it doesn't detract from Kismet's whole. Rather, the album-compilation opens with a nice, fuzzy bit of piano 'n' synth ambient in Toking Elders In Avalanche, gives us a taste of the mysterious warble-reverb in Maighdean na Tuinne, slows the pace down to contemplative reflection with Stargazer and Planes Of Existence (with extra sub-bass drone!), while Forgotten and Escape Pod takes us out in ambient grace. Yep, I'd say that covers about everything in Solipsism's oeuvre.

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!

The Boats - Do The Boats Dream Of Electric Fritz Pfleumer?

Slaapwel Records: 2011

Before I get into who The Boats are, I should probably get into who Fritz Pfleumer was. Okay, maybe you know Fritz Pfleumer, o' gear-hound of yore, but for most, such a name undoubtedly comes off like a wacky Looney Tunes antagonist. Ahh, you can almost hear it pronounced in Mel Blanc's over-the-top German accent.

But no, Mr. Pfleumer's main contribution to history was nothing less than the invention of the magnetic recording tape. Yes, that tape, as in the source of audio for cassettes, 8-tracks, reel-to-reels, DATs, VHS, and al in between. Almost everything we take for granted in music consumption in the past century can be linked to Fritz' invention, the technology still in use by analogue purists to this day. His name should be on the tongues of far more folks, said in the same breath as the likes of Edison, but a little event called World War II kinda' post-poned any mass marketing or production of his revolutionary recording technique. It wasn't a terribly good time to be a German inventor during those years.

Knowing all this, it makes sense, then, that The Boats were inspired in naming their Slaapwel contribution as an album paying tribute to ol' Fritz. Erm, if you even know who The Boats are. I honestly don't know much about them, beyond whatever Lord Discogs tells me. Founded by Andrew Hargreaves and Craig Tattersall, later joined by Danny Norbury, their catalogue contains over a dozen albums, with piles upon piles of side-projects, solo joints, alternate aliases, and collaborative works among all three. I can't be arsed to deep-dive into all this for more context, but from what I can easily glean, they love themselves some tape loop experimentation, often crafting fuzzy, twee indie-pop chill tunes around it. Quite pleasant stuff, if that's your thing, which sometimes is my thing, but again, so much of it ...just so much. Do The Boats Dream Of Electric Fritz Pfleumer? probably wasn't the best jumping on point, but eh, how could I resist another album with cover art of a boat locked in ice?

Right off the bat, the tape hiss and analogue fuzz is in full effect, practically overwhelming what minimal sound and tone makes its way through. Sparse plok-pok percussion, a lazy drone that seems to sway as though gently bobbing on waves, while intermittent bell chimes, guitar plucking, and other assorted instruments break up any monotony. Not that The Boats do anything to actively draw your attention to such sounds. You're supposed to be falling asleep to this, after all, and everything's so quiet you'd have to actually crank the stereo to hear much of it over the persistent sonic fuzz.

If you do manage to stay awake for the single track's thirty-six minute length, things do get more 'active' as we move along. Midway, a more prominent string section emerges, while the drone tone grows stronger, even overtaking the endless tape hiss. Almost seems menacing compared the earlier tranquility. Hopefully you'll have nodded off by then.

Various - Coercion Of Deities

Neotantra: 2021

After twenty-five releases in a mere two years, Neotantra felt it wouldn't hurt to put out a little celebratory compilation summing up their (then) current catalogue. One track per release, ranging from four minute long sonic doodles, to twenty minute long dronescapes. As you can imagine, there was no physical production of Coercion Of Deities, just a Bandcamp exclusive at whatever price you wish to donate. A label sampler then, which I don't normally bother with. If I'm browsing your print, I'm already convinced of the musical product to check out all the proper releases on offer. That's just me though, so if you've just started wondering what the deal is with Neotantra, this is a handy introduction. That said, I ultimately got this for two reasons.

One, I was curious about some of the 'missing' albums from my collection. For sure I've bought quite a few of them, eleven CDs out of the twenty-five (well, technically fourteen, but one order of three was lost – does that make Blue Mountain, Organic Adventures, and Soul Offerings even rarer now?). Generally I'll take in a few audio clips before I decide if yet another Neotantra release is worth dumping my cash into, and if I like what I hear, I buy in. I know, what a shocking habit.

Some stuff I wasn't so immediately convinced on though, so let them pass. Not that they were poor releases or anything, but my music budget stretches only so far, and would rather spend on items I'm immediately sure of rather than might have to 'work to get', if you get my drift. With Coercion Of Deities, I can at least sample what I missed, maybe reconsider down the line. And yeah, stuff like Mind Over MIDI's blissy, calm ambient of Subdivision, or the reflective lowercase field recordings of Bålsam's Sunshower, or even the New Age leaning Pleochroism 2 from Juta Takahashi, even if is a bit over long... all stuff worth scoping further. The more musique concrete experimental stuff though, like Interconnected's Sockelgeschoss or Myoptik's Borgon Plinth, not so much. Personal preference and all. Still, if I want to complete the Neotantra set, I'll have to get them, won't I?

Yeah, that's the other reason I wanted to show off Coercion Of Deities. The cover art is a collage of all the album covers, nicely displaying the gradient colour scheme each batch of releases used. I may only like a select few, but gosh, won't my CDs look weird on the shelf with a broken scheme? I can't have Mick Chillage's Epinaz pink go into Motionfield's Signals purple without Bålsam's Soul Offerings magenta bridging the gap!

Not that this was some insidious manipulation of marketing on Neotantra's part, oh no. I'm positive they simply came up with a nifty thematic idea that helps their releases stand out in a rather niche yet overcrowded scene like ambient techno. I'm just astounded how effectively it triggers collector's FOMO in doing so.