Various - Fabric 50: Martyn

Fabric: 2010

Come to think of it, Fabric was being a bit ballsy in handing their half-centennial volumes of both Fabic and Fabriclive to upstart genre heroes like Martyn and D:Bridge. Sure, it'd be safe enough dropping another round of Fabric friendly tech-house or jungle, but no, there's plenty of new sounds making waves in the underground and abroad, and we're gonna' make sure folks know about them in our fiftieth editions.

Why do we place so much prestige on '50', anyway? '10', '100', and '1000', sure - adding another zero demarcating a whole new series of numbers is a pretty big deal. '50' though, is just half way to one-hundred. Is it because many fiat currencies rely on certain amounts for easy distribution, '50' being one of them? Honestly, in my neck of the world, '50' spots aren't terribly common, seemingly rarer than '100' bills. Is it an age thing? Maybe, but still only regarded important in relation to the century mark. Okay, that's enough rambling to confuse the Hell out of whatever A.I. bot is scarping this review.

Choosing Martyn for Fabric 50 isn't that far out of leftfield as it may have seen at first glance. Yeah, he was something of a post-dubstep hero in ye' olde year of 2010, one among a clutch of producers taking it down more interesting roads than whatever the North American bros were vomiting out. Mr. Deijkers was never strictly a dubstep guy though, having come up through the D'n'B scene on Marcus Intalex' Revolve:r print. He just kinda' jumped on a bit of a bandwagon when the UK bass scene was blowing up, had his fill of doing his own thing with it, and was just as quick to move onto other things, mostly house and techno (as many early dubstep heroes did).

While the full transition was still a couple years off from Fabric 50's vantage point, even here you can hear him testing the waters outside the familiar confines of future garage sub-genres. There's a couple Ben Klock remixes, a Redshape remix, and a Levon Vincent acid track (Air Raid). Heck, even his own Vancouver owes more to dub techno than whatever London broken-beat genre he's forcing it into. Small surprise it mixes in from 2562's Flashback, a chap who was already paving the way into such post-dubstep genre fusions that sadly didn't last much into the following decade.

It's this little tug-n-pull of what I'm sure folks expected of Martyn and what he actually wants to do that creates something of a disjointed set. It's good overall, don't get me wrong, just seems a little muddled in where its destination is. Does it want to showcase all the various facets of UK bass music as it existed in 2010 (the Afro-beat stuff, the bleepy stuff, the funky stuff, the soulful stuff, the dubby stuff), or does it want to steer us away from all that (the techno stuff)? For sure its eclectic, but feels rather rambly in the process.

The Bug ft. Dis Fig - In Blue

Hyperdub: 2020

“New Bug, who Dis?”

Sorry, sorry, couldn't resist that one. This isn't even all that new of a Bug album anymore, though I can't help but feel it quickly went by the wayside, especially in the wake of Fire coming out the following year. It certainly isn't much like Kevin Martin's Ninja Tune releases, none of the aggro dancehall and grime raps present. If anything, In Blue has more in common with his other Hyperdub records, the Roger Robinson collaboration King Midas Sound. I'm far from the only person to make that association, though I do wonder if this album started as a King Midas Sound project before morphing into this. Kevin and Roger had taken their work into almost dark ambient pastures by this point though, so a different approach and collaborator was probably called for if Mr. Martin wanted a return to the more soulful side of his muse.

As for who Dis Fig is, she doesn't have much Discoggian data, a smattering of singles and a tape album the extent of her solo work. Known as Felicia Chen on her travel papers, she does appear to have some presence on the Soundcloud DJ circuit, with a contribution to FACT Magazine her highest profile gig. There's definitely an aggro, industrialist approach to her sound, oftentimes coupled with ethereal whispers and tense ambient interludes, keeping you on edge for when the aural assault resumes. Seems like a perfect match-up with Mr. Martin's own brand of industrial dub and dancehall grit. Oh, what's this, a global pandemic has put everyone on lockdown? With nothing better to do, seems time was about right to get that collaboration rollin'.

And if the tunnel artwork wasn't enough, first proper tune Come gets right to work in setting the tone of In Blue. Muted echoes, rumbling bass reverberating off concrete walls, an omnipresent dub wail like wind through confined industrial zones - it's all quite familiar Bug music, though rather muted and suppressed compared to his Ninja Tune outings. All the while Ms. Chen softly croons along, though only provides verses to about half the tracks, sometimes with nothing more than a dubbed-out wail piercing Kevin's grimey murk. Some tunes barely feature her at all, such as the gutter bounce of In 2 U or the diesel-train chugging of Forever. It does leave me to wonder if Dis Fig did any music production for this album. Like, The Bug's work is largely prevalent, but surely a couple of those endless echoes are more than Ms. Chen's soft vocals.

In Blue definitely is a seductive album for those who like their bass music on the ethereal side of things. It's a bit samey throughout though, as though you're travelling through an unending monochrome tunnel. Again, I'm sure that was the intent, and Bug plus Fig pull it off well. It just unfortunately kind of melts into the background after a while. Might have been better served as a couple EPs instead.

Burial - Tunes 2011-2019

Hyperdub: 2019

Folks were so anxious to hear a third LP in the wake of Untrue, they didn't realize Burial had low-key released a double-LP's worth of material in the decade since. However, it was scattered about some seven singles, so never thought of as a singular listening experience. If only there was a way to consolidate all that music into such a format. By golly there is!

I kid, but honestly, Tunes 2011-2019 is quite handy for the casual Burial listener. While I'm sure such a compilation is highly redundant for a dedicated follower of Mr. Bevan's music, not everyone has time or interest in getting every EP as they come. Even myself, an individual who quite enjoys (and sure relates to) his post-clubbing come-down urban vibes, only ever sprung for the Rival Dealer EP. I had thought about getting others, even eyed the double-EP option of Street Halo / Kindred on many an occasion. I guess that procrastination paid off in that now I have them all in a single package.

Still, what's the big deal? Just all the singles appropriately aligned in chronological order, right? Been there, done that. Not at all! In fact, things have been arranged such that Tunes Of The '10s plays out like Burial had planned all these EPSs as a double-LP right from the get-go. Just, he needed a bit of an obtuse angle to initially approach it from, before realizing what overarching themes manifested with all these disparate compositions. Or it was just a big ol' coincidence things worked out they way they did.

Basically, each CD serves as its own narrative, disc one the more conceptual of the two. The first half mostly features his ambient and experimental works, and if nothing else, effectively creates a mood of back-alley squalor. Some of it does meander too long (too much field recording dithering in Subtemple), but all of it effectively builds a sense of isolation and loneliness that's only broken free from once the shimmering synths of Nightmarket hit. Then, we're off into the uplifting messaging of the Rival Dealer tracks, with the ol' school garage vibes of Claustro serving a perfect companion piece to them. Why there's even a call-back of sorts, the haunting ambience at the tail end of Hiders having been given expanded exploration in the earlier Beachfires.

By contrast, CD2 is the 'clubbier' of the two, if you could ever call Burial's post-Untrue works club worthy. For sure there are moments where a house groove or 2-step shuffle is in action, but the lengthy, stop-start nature of most of these tracks makes them rather unwieldy for the dancefloor. It's all about the atmosphere anyway. Especially with the final two cuts off the Street Halo EP, Stolen Dog and NYC. Ah, there's that Untrue feels. Wait a minute...

*checks track list again*

Oh, hah! Tune 2011-2019 is in mostly chronological order after all, just reverse. Funny how that worked out. Or a big ol' coincidence.

Bonobo - Black Sands

Ninja Tune: 2010

Migration may have been Bonobo's deliberate attempt at having crossover success, but Black Sands may remain his most popular album. Never mind this one is owned by over twelve-thousand members of Discogs' community, well outpacing Migration's 'mere' eight-thousand. On a track-by-track basis, Spotify's streaming numbers puts Black Sands' songs properly above Migration's, though the King Bonobo cut goes to The North Borders' Cirrus. All that pre-hype as a lead single in the follow-up to Black Sands no doubt helped its cause. Of course, this all could be explained by the fact Black Sands has a seven year head start on Migration to rack up such numbers, but I prefer going with the theory that Black Sands is a better overall album.

For sure it's an album in transition. The first clutch of Bonobo records mostly stuck to that traditional Ninja Tune-y trip-hop vibe that was so prevalent in the early '00s. They were good enough to gain a dedicated following, but not enough to branch beyond that. By the late '00s, however, it was abundantly clear change was afoot in UK downtempo-land: trip-hop was finally on the way out, jazzy urban soul and future garage was in. Simon Green had already explored some of the former on Days To Come, and 2010 was as good as any year to start dabbling in the latter. Just in time to hit those lucrative festival circuits playing nothing but the latter!

Actually, there isn't that much more of it here, Black Sands offering a wide variety of old and new Bonobo. For sure the album hits you right out the gate in Kiara with the wonky rhythm and chirpy chiptune bleeps while a Far East string melody plays along, but follow-up Kong is pure vintage Ninja Tune hop-step, steady-cool groove. Then Eyesdown gets in on that skippity-shuffle beat while Andreya Triana croons along, while El Toro has fun with acid jazz. Wait, really? Yah, really. Call it 'electro swing' if you must, but we all know what it really is.

The genre hopping/fusions continue throughout Black Sands, each track hitting upon their own unique vibe, the album never losing its way for the ride. Did I mention a lot of this is done with instrumentation performed by Bonobo himself? Yeah, there's a number of featured guests, especially on El Toro and the titular finale. Yet tunes are arranged such that it kinda'-sorta' still sounds like sample-based downtempo music, with subtle electronic gimmickry enhancing the studio sessions. Heck, on the aforementioned titular finale, a big ol' cinematic jazz outing with contributions from Jack Baker (drums), Mike Lesirge (flute and clarinet), Mike Simmonds (violin), Alan Hardiman (trombone) and Ryan Jacob (trumpet), Mr. Green also plays guitar, piano, double bass, xylophone, mandolin, and harmonium. Ahh, the wonders of multi-track recording.

Does this mean that Black Sands has converted me to the Bonobo Brotherhood? Well, it got me checking out more of his earlier output, which is all any artist can hope for from late adopters.

Various - Balance 024: Danny Howells

Balance Records: 2013

Did I misremember things? Wasn't Danny Howells part of some famed group, like Nick Warren with Way Out West or Darren Emerson with Underworld? There was Science Department (with Dick Trevor) and Squelch (with Tim Cook), but neither released more than a handful of singles, much less timeless, genre-defining club anthems. Maybe it's just the name “Danny Howells” looking like the most typical of British names you'd find in the credits of so much '90s Britronica.

But nay, Mr. Howells main avenue of revenue is disc jockeying, also among the newer breed of prog DJs that came up in the wake of Sasha and Digweed's dominance. He became a regular contributor to the Renaissance series, did occasional spots for Global Underground, plus had his own short-lived outings called Nocturnal Frequencies (no, not Nokturnel). When those respected series fell by the wayside, Balance was there to scoop up the alum for a rinse out on their brand, and Danny was no less tempted within.

At which we find ourselves at an interesting juncture within the prog-osphere. The dark, tribal sound of yesteryear was long gone, the 'minimal' bandwagon derailed into a ditch, and no clear future of where things would go next. No longer so counted on to be clubbing tastemakers, jocks like Danny could indulge themselves down less-travelled roads, and with Balance still holding onto some rep' as being the series to do as you wish, Danny does indeed.

First though, the obligatory nitpick of both sets: these are some soft-ass beats here. Like, real mellow music, with such smooth mixing even the peaks and valleys are edged down to rolling hills. There are times when I wished things could crank up another notch or three, but it is what it is. If Mr. Howells is feeling chill in his aging years, who am I to complain about tunes kept at a relative simmer.

CD1: That is the disc where Danny does his most exploring, providing tunes that work in small bunches but don't coalesce into a narrative whole. Going from future garage to deep tech to techno to deep house isn't the daftest of directions, and the tunes doing the work all sound fine. I just sense these are tracks being played for their own sake, because Mr. Howells had them, wanted to showcase them, but lacked the time and space to do the styles more justice. It doesn't help that CD2: This starkly contrasts with its laser-focused celebration of all things space disco.

We've heard spots and hints of this stuff in previous Balance sets, but the opening half of disc two goes whole hog on the glittery cosmic funk. Somehow, Danny even throws in Balearic touches, such that you feel like you're disco dancing on an Enceladus beachfront overlooking Saturn's rings. Even when he detours for some de-e-e-ep house (Brotherland) and classic prog (Pages), he brings it back with a pair of Prins Thomas remixes. Overall, a lovely outing, and quaintly retro at a breezy fourteen tracks.

Various - Balance 015: Will Saul

EQ Recordings: 2009

Won't deny, I had low thoughts about this one when I first saw it advertised a decade ago. I generally liked the Balance series to that point, but Joris Voorn's contribution had me wondering whether things were taking a turn for the over-indulgent, hipster-baiting path. Glancing at the tracklist didn't allay my suspicions either, what with inclusions from Ricardo Villalobos' Minimoonstar, Hercules & Love Affair, Seth 'he so crazy!' Troxler, and that new-fangled 'dubstep' the kids wouldn't shut up about, b'gar. Throw in a cover shot that has Mr. Saul looking like he's posing for Craft Beers Monthly (“This Issue, The 20 Best New IPAs From Mercer Island You MUST Try!”), and yeah, my totally sad first impression wasn't good.

But Will Saul's 3CD set for Balance is good. Real damn good. Ignore what Late 2009 Sykonee thinks. He was getting disillusioned about things anyway.

Besides, my ignorant thoughts were mostly due to ignorance of who Will Saul is. I assume he's a fairly big deal in the UK, though I hadn't heard of him before, and haven't heard much of him since. Has a couple labels behind his belt. Recently released his second album. Look, I've limited word count here, and I'd rather spend it discussing these CDs over Mr. Saul's biography.

And what a lovely assortment of CDs we have here. We're deep in Balance's 'No Genres Off Limits!' era, and with three discs to indulge himself, Will indulges himself indeed. Instead of making each CD strict genre exercises though, Mr. Saul works a general theme while dedicating significant chunks of his sets to specific styles. CD1 gets in on that deep house and space disco vibe, with a tasty acid and Chicago closer. CD2 is the more (then) conventional set of the three, sticking to trendy, minimalist tech-house before taking a slight detour into Detroit's back alleys. Then, in a total tonal shift, Will finishes the set out with future garage (still called 'dubstep' back then). Yeah, that's probably just as trendy, but I like this stuff, so it coo'.

Opening CD3 with reggae dub though? Oh... oh my! Who in the history of Balance has done that? Okay, Jimmy Van M, kinda', but that was just one song, whereas Will spends eight. Some of it is modern 'reggae dub', sure (re: dubstep that actually honours its Jamaican roots), but as found elsewhere across Balance 015, he mixes these (then) contemporary styles with vintage stuff quite nicely. Things move on from there into funk and soul (old and new, including Wolf + Lamb), plus garage and house, with mostly (then) new stuff trying to sound like way old stuff. The retro was in full swing by the late '00s, absolutely.

So yeah, I quite like Will Saul's CD3 here, and even enjoy CD1 despite not having quite as much to say about it. CD2 feels quite of its time though, but is fine for what it offers. Plus, very little of Minimoonstar was used. I LOL'd.

Ink Midget - Re-Leave

Exitab: 2012

There's some downright obscure shit out there, my poor Windows Media Player helpless in its attempts at auto-identifying whatever music it's currently decoding and digitizing to my external hard drive. Not a big deal, thinks I while sipping on pinot noir (or a Monster Sunrise). Just slot the CD in its appropriate alphabetical place within my “to review” tower, and I'll deal with the details when I get to it.

Only, I was left stumped on this Ink Midget. I knew it had to be part of my regular queue, as I'd uploaded it to my portable player at some point, but I didn't see it among the surrounding CDs. Might it have been a digital-only item? No, those at least have cover art. Well, whatever, I'm sure once I listen to it, I'll solve its mysterious origin. Wait, this is a dubstep release? How did I end up with this? Did someone hand it to me after Shambhala? Wouldn't be the first time I was given a promo from that festival.

As always though, Lord Discogs finally shed some light on the matter, at the very least providing me art I could identify it with. And upon seeing that Re-Leave art, I went, “OOHH-ooohh... it's that CD. Huh, I thought it was an indie rock thing.” Admit it, just from a glance, you'd never guess this is dubstep, to say nothing of the four-page foldout with even more water-coloured art within. Plus, it's a big, bulky digipak, the sort of thing I've come to expect from... well, not dubstep, that's for sure. Explains why it wasn't in my usual “to review” tower though, not fitting in the slots and all.

*whew* Alright, all that out and sorted, how does this album from Ink Midget stack up. It's... fine, I guess? Adam Matej certainly tries infusing the genre with some ideas against the tropes of the time, but adding a pile of glitch stutter effects to one's half-time beats feels overkill. He's clearly listened to a bunch of Hyperdub material, and wants to make music like that, but overshot the mark on the production level. There's a dub-trap cut in Night Float that's fascinated by the pitch of the snare's reverb. There's the clear nods to Burial ambience in Flue and Clue (heh). There's some “we're getting ultra-wrecked, man!” grime rapping in Fisheye (though Pjoni's Slovak). There's a dope double-time builder in Půlvlk, with a secret ambient song after. Hey, that's a novel bit of retro!

I dunno, Re-Leave feels quite middle-of-the-road where this sound is concerned, though I'm hardly an expert in this particular genre, my experience still at a surface level. Maybe folks who digest every tiny ounce of dubstep, future-garage, and UK (Slovak?) bass could give a better comparison of Ink Midget against the scene's grand pantheon. On the other hand, I had to submit the CD version of this to Discogs, so maybe this is rightfully obscure too.

James Blake - James Blake

Universal Republic Records: 2011

(a Patreon Request)

I was in serious music exploring doldrums in the year 2011, due to albums like this. Nothing specifically on it, mind you; heck, I didn't even bother checking if I might like it or not. When an act gets as hyped as James Blake did leading up to his debut album though, I can't help but give the ol' side-eye in response. The likes of Pitchfork and TinyMixTapes are praising him as their latest second coming, you say? Must be some insufferable indie-twat doing music outside conventional lanes, thinks I. Naturally, that's an entirely douche-nozzle position to take, but after so much indie-rag hype leading me to mediocre music, you can understand knee-jerk reactions to their recommendations.

Having now taken in James Blake from James Blake, I can honestly say: really? This is what all the hullabaloo was about? For sure, it's a perfectly pleasant little soul album, with a few contemporary UK garage tricks giving it additional flair and personality. And man, does Blake ever know how to maximize sonic space, his tracks remarkably sparse and empty, letting his voice linger not just with the delay and echo effects on his vocals, but even in the nothingness between another piano chord or bass throb. I've always felt the best soul casts the singer isolated and laid bare, with little distraction impeding what should be an intimate dialog between artist and listener. Obviously that doesn't always happen – Hell, at the pop level, soul can't help but get caught up in theatrics just like everyone else (do I really need to hear five octaves to know how much you feel that agonizing emotion?). Blake though, he shows welcome restraint in such gimmickry, things like multi-tracking his voice or digitally manipulating it into different octaves serving the needs of a particular song and nothing more.

So as an understated, honest little soul album, I did like James Blake, but still don't understand where all the hype comes from. Check that: I do understand where all the hype came from, especially from the indie-rags. They adored it because it's an understated, honest little soul album, when it wasn't supposed to be an understated, honest little soul album. James Blake was anticipated to be a saviour for a dubstep scene having succumbed to all that was bro, bringing class, cleverness, and prestige back to a once-hot underground movement. He was supposed to do that within dubstep's parameters though (or post-dubstep, or future garage, or etc.), and he didn't do that here. Yeah, there's some sub-rattling bass frequencies in tracks like Limit To Your Love, and twisted garage-soul in I Mind, but those are exceptions to the general style James indulges in here.

And honestly, his soul doesn't sound much different from stuff on Dusted's album, though as released via Hyperdub. And that's fine – I likes me some Brit soul every now and then – but in subverting everyone's expectations, yeah, small wonder indie folks tripped over themselves showering the hyperbolic praise.

Various - Hyperdub 10.2

Hyperdub: 2014

Look, I get all that post-dub-juke-bash-grim-skee-ap stuff is what folks hip to every tiny permutation of UK garage were digging. I mean, it must have been a significant development if Hypderdub was gonna' dedicated a double-CD opening salvo to it. And while there were enough tracks among those thirty-plus that a few got my attention or had my head twitchin' for a mild nod, much of it just passed me by as same ol', same ol', no matter who was chopping and screwing with the hi-hats and snares. It's music that makes better sense when out at a shitty London venue or abandoned Chicago warehouse, where the ketamine is floating through the air like particulates of ashen snow. That is what all those early dubstep parties were like, right? I wouldn't know, I never went to any, not even in British Columbia when the likes of Skream and Rusko were becoming big names here.

Just because it wasn't to my taste doesn't mean it was to no one's taste, and it was popular enough that many indie rags were forced to dedicate detailed write-ups about why this new 'yoot' movement was Very Important to UK's underground dance scene. It's not what attracted me to Hyperdub though, so if the review of Hyperdub 10.1 seems lacking, well, that's your reason. Now, let's move onto the stuff I'm more interested in: the dubby funk 'n soul music of Hyperdub 10.2!

That's right, the post-clubbing, depressive soul of Burial, or the urban grit soul of King Midas Sound, where R&B is taken through the UK underground wringer of lonely nights spent at coffee shops and fish friars before returning to squalid flats barely paid for by a dwindling dole, the unmistakable croon of a lovely lady still echoing in your ears over a cheap, choppy beat. Something like that, I think.

That's the vibe I get from these tracks. Burial's Shell Of Light, DVA's Solid with Zaki Ibrahim and Metrodome, Terror Danjah's You Make Me Feel with Meleka, Fhloston Paradigm's Never Defeated with Rachel Claudio, Morgan Zarate's Sticks & Stones with Eska and Ghostface Killah. Wait, Ghostface is here? Man, them UK grime dudes sure do love 'em some Ghostface. Don't blame 'em, Tony Stark basically bullet-proof no matter where he ends up (UK garage, Eastcoast rap, horrorcore stories, 30 Rock cameos).

And it's weird, because normally I'm not that hype to R&B either. I appreciate its influence and its contributions and all that rot, but generally speaking, I get my musical soul-food from other sources. This Hyperdub stuff though, it hits me at just the right angle, just gritty and askew enough, where the cheap, scattershot production keeps it leagues away from the slick polish of the industrious mainstream material. It's rhythm and blues as the terms should be interpreted, with bare beats and human murk. Still, it's not like I'm actively seeking such music either, Hyperdub 10.2 sating most of that itch until the next King Midas Sound record comes out.

King Midas Sound - Without You

Hyperdub: 2011

How odd is it that this Kevin Martin project immediately got a remix album, but none of his Bug material has. Even the critically lauded London Zoo only got a few token EP rubs, and that was undoubtedly his most successful album ever. King Midas Sound, on the other hand, passed by with less buzz, quite a few folks not even aware it was another project from The Bug. Still, I sense it gained something of a 'musician's musician' following, where the savviest of UK Bass ears couldn't help but zero in on King Midas Sound's developments. I doubt Martin, Roger Robinson, and Kiki Hitomi planned it as such, but when I see a crap-ton of obscure, esoteric artists 'reworking' tunes for Without You, it makes me wonder exactly who's the target audience here. Like, were so many acts anxious to lend their aesthetic to the King Midas sound that Hyperdub had no choice but to release a remix album like this?

Actually, Without You is something of a mish-mash of older stuff and new material. If you missed out on the King Midas Sound debut record Cool Out, fret not for you get the wonk-jazz of Flying Lotus' rub on Lost (eh, I'll pass) and Dabrye's weirdo synth-pop stab at One Ting as a hidden track (noice!). Both remixes on the Goodbye Girl single also show up, Without You kicking off with Kuedo's ker-lumpity bass-clump of G.G., plus Mala's tribal dubstep of Earth A Kill Ya. It ain't bad, but compare it to the bizarre place art-poppers Gang Gang Dance take the original moody number - I'm left speechless! The original was a fairly minimalist, menacing piece of spoken word dub music, whereas Gang Gang turn it into something you might expect from an Orb and Youth collaboration: all chipper, flighty, and filled with silly sounds. And yet Roger's words remain just as poignant in this setting as the other. How'd Gang Gang do d'at?

All the new songs are given 'revoice' credits, including the titular cut with a D-Bridge rub that's almost ambient dub. Kiki gets to showcase a little Japanese knowledge with Tears, Cooly G brings some R&B sultriness to the fray in Spin Me Around, and Joel Ford does his own croon in Say Somethin'. Not to let all these urban voices dominate, Green Gartside of the indie band Scritti Politti shows up in Come And Behold. It's... an odd contrast to the rest of Without You's thick haze of grimy dub ol' Kevin drenches his productions in.

In case that's not enough, other remixes go for weird abstraction (Robert Aiki; Ras G & Afrikan Space Program; ooh Deep Chord!), or familiar Hyperdub future garage (hey Kode 9; yo' Hype Williams). In all, Without You is a warped trip through the disparate muses of various musicians, the only thing holding it together being Kevin Martin's faith in letting all those invited stretch wherever they want. Well no wonder so many wanted in on this 'remix' album!

Burial - Untrue

Hyperdub: 2007

The only dubstep album you’re supposed to have, even if you’re not a fan of dubstep. Especially if you’re not a fan of dubstep, as this was the one that was supposed to convince you the genre wasn’t all bad. And that’s funny, because Burial’s Untrue isn’t even considered a dubstep record anymore. Even at the time of release, it was something of a nebulous demarcation, but because the genre hadn’t branched into splinter sub-genres in any significant way yet, it was hailed as the first Proper Dubstep Album Classic. I think folks stopped calling it that around 2009, when it became clear that dubstep’s growing popularity wasn’t going the way of these moody, atmospheric, intricate productions, but rather whatever obnoxious wub-wub nonsense Benga and Rusko were churning out. Quick, call it something else! Well, it’s still got some ties to UK Garage, but it’s like, futuristic sounding compared to original UK Garage. Hmm, what to call it indeed…

So Untrue is technically no longer a classic dubstep album, but it’s still considered a classic album within the lexicon of electronic music history. The impact it had in the year 2007 still resonates to this day, many up-and-coming ‘urban bass’ producers inspired, imitating, and cloning what Burial did with his sophomore album. The digitally distorted R&B vocals from memories long past, the thick beatcraft echoing off warehouse walls, the atmosphere drenched in rainfall and vinyl crackles, the introspective dusty ambient interludes, the grace in unpolished electronics, all things no one can go without mentioning in any review of Untrue, nor most Burial releases at this point.

Hell, I’m almost certain I’ve typed words similar to that in a previous Burial review, which makes me wonder if, much like Boards Of Canada, Mr. Bevan became trapped by his unique aesthetics’ success. Folks adored the raver nostalgia vibes his tunes generated, eager to hear more, even if from second-run acts filling those aching gaps. Some actually improved upon the template Burial set out here, though given that Untrue is nearly a decade old now (!!), there’s been plenty of time and opportunity to explore themes of post-party isolation in hazy 4am city streets. Besides, it’s not like Burial’s been in any hurry to produce a third LP.

Oh, he’s kept a steady rate of singles over the years, but to make a follow-up to one of the most critically hailed electronic albums in the wake of the new millennium? Hot damn, what pressure that must be! Wait, The Bug also had a huge, critically-hailed ‘dubstep’ album of his own in 2008, and he put out another album, eventually. Why the wait, Mr. Bevan? Surely whatever personal anxiety one must feel after such a release has waned by now, free to evolve as an artist without being crushed by expectation so close to the cultural supernova event that was Untrue (yay, hyperbole!). We’ve already heard some hints of this in recent singles - seems the time is about right to take on the album format again.

Synkro - Changes

Apollo: 2015

Synkro’s a name I’ve had my eye on for a few years, initially for obvious stupid reasons. Seriously, take out that ‘r’, add in double ‘e’s, rearrange a couple letters, and oh my, aren’t you looking mighty familiar. Not that it’s anything but a huge coincidence, but the alias one Joe McBride chose for himself couldn’t help but draw my attention in such a manner. Once I got past that though, I noticed his name cropping up around the Autonomic guys, soon after associating with ASC and Auxillary. Hey, that’s cool, but still, isn’t he a dubstep guy? A brief poke through his Lord Discogs dossier confirms as much, his early material finding homes on labels like Smokin’ Sessions, Dubbed Out, Box Clever, and Dubstep For Deep Heads. Right, so these labels are of the ‘intelligent’ side of the genre, all that post-future garagestep stuff that’s actually not so bad. Not my thing such that I’d want to dig into his releases any time soon though, but maybe at some point I’d check back, should a tantalizing development reveal itself in the near present. Also, a proper album wouldn’t hurt either, none of these endless EPs, yo’.

Well hey, here’s a tantalizing development I never saw coming: Synkro’s found a home on Apollo. Yep, the label that got its start as an outlet for the first selection of ambient works from Aphex Twin, and went on as a pioneer, leader, and all-around swell ‘90s label for all things ambient techno and experimental chill. They also dabbled in other trendy genres of the time (trip-hop, atmospheric jungle), and it seems this decade is no different, getting in on some of that neo-folk action. Oh, and future garage too. And after a few more singles for the famed Belgium print, Synkro finally tackled the LP format this past year with Changes.

For a debut album on Mr. McBride’s part though, this is about as safe an effort as I’ve ever heard. He made a name for himself clearly inspired by the Burial template, and much of Changes’ first half deals with the sound. There’s the distant echoes of garage soul past, haunting melodies of melancholic memories (though the looping vocal in Holding On is rather corny), and sparse shuffly grooves dubbed out to the recesses of urban alleyways. It’s all sounds lovely, and Synkro crafts some remarkably expansive spaces with his strings and pads. Don’t feel bad if you’ve a serious sense of ‘been there, heard it’ with these tunes though. It’s like listening to trip-hop in the year 2003: yeah, it still sounds good, but nothing new’s being added.

The back-half of Changes is a bit more interesting, with two gorgeous ambient pieces in Empty Walls and closer Harbour, a slowed-down jazzsteppy cut in Body Close, and a dead-ringer of a Boards Of Canada ode in Midnight Sun. Hey, wait a minute, when did this album suddenly turn into a Psychonavigation Records release? Everywhere, they are I swear.

Various - DJ-Kicks: Brandt Brauer Frick

Studio !K7: 2014

Though DJ-Kicks has spotlighted DJs and producers somewhat off the beaten path, it's seldom that I draw a total blank on who's commanding the consoles. Even if they aren't immediately familiar, a quick Discogian search will reveal some information that sparks the memory synapses (oh yeah, Andrea Parker was on Mo Wax!). Such is not the case with this trio of dapper, fuzzy-faced German gents, Brandt Brauer Frick. I'm getting nothing on these guys, no appearances on familiar compilations, no namedrops from similar sounding artists, not even a whiff of recognition from locals who are all up in that European tech-haus scene. As far as my far-flung Canadian perspective goes, these guys are completely home-grown and insulated within Studio !K7's Berlin base, seldom exported beyond the eastern shores of the Atlantic. Or I could just be way out of the loop on this one. I mean, the trio have released three albums in the past half-decade, a tidy sum for any artist, and surely having generated some success as a result. Then again, considering this CD’s but a year old and already in among the discount options, just how popular can they be?

Whatever the case, I suspected I was in for something wildly eclectic upon checking out the track list (no blind leaps on this one, yo’). Twenty-eight tracks, a few familiar faces like Theo Parrish, Galaxy 2 Galaxy, Fantastic Man, and Machinedrum, plus a whole pile of new names to boot. Wee, just like the DJs themselves! As this is a three-piece group, I suspected Daniel, Jan, and Paul would go the tag-team route, showing off their various tastes of tech-haus, funky jazz, and other assorted trendy genre gobbledegook blends you’d hear out at Watergate. Hm, not so eclectic as I was led to believe, and sadly not for the better.

Despite having sections of sorts, Brandt Brauer Frick’s contribution to DJ-Kicks comes off disjointed and all over the place, and not in any esoteric mixtape sense either. The early portions go for their jazzy sound, but tracks come and go so quickly, with such jarring transitions of tempo and tone, little ever sinks in or flows. If you want to show off these cool, obscure tunes, let them breathe, got’dang it. This isn’t even a case of ancient vinyl being difficult to mix with current cuts, as nearly every track on here is from within the last few years.

Things don’t improve much once in the clubbier portion of this mix, where even a steady rhythm is denied by jumps and detours into broken beat jazz-house, quirky acid electro, and k-holed techno. There are a few clever blends and contrasts, but it doesn’t do the mix favours when the fading croon of Dean Blunt’s Galice at the end is the most memorable moments of the whole CD, only because everything prior has retreated to the cobwebbed back-corners of my cranium. Probably a better option with the vinyl sampler pack, this edition of DJ-Kicks is.

Scuba - Sub:Stance

Ostgut Ton: 2010

Sub:Stance may as well be the turning point of Scuba's career, going from dubstep darling to tech-house tease. True, the hints didn't come to fruition for another couple years after this CD, but the very fact he's palling around with Ostgut Ton, they of Serious Technos Only acts like Surgeon, Shed, Klock, and Dettmann, had to give some signs of his future developments. Okay, there’s also the nugget of Mr. Rose hailing from Berlin, thus likely having ties with the Berghain posse regardless. It’s a pairing that was all but inevitable, what with Scuba's early techno dystopian approach to UK bass music.

What I find most interesting is that it was with Ostgut Ton that he made his commercial DJ mix CD debut in the first place. Why not do it on his own Hotflush print? Too many licensing issues? A friendly favour? Come to think of it, most of his mixes have been online efforts (podcasts, streamers, Boiler Room rinse-outs), this and DJ-Kicks about all he has for hard copy options (and a Mixmag offering, but who cares about those). Maybe he’ll do a Balance or fabric one soon, since he’s all about that house now.

In 2010 though, Mr. Rose was still mixing in the heady post-dubstep tuneage, with many of the trendy names of the time getting a look in. There’s Sigha, Pangaea, Shackleton, Mount Kimbie, James Blake, and Joy Orbison, including his one big track everyone wouldn’t stop playing back then, Hyph Mngo. Man, looking at that list, it’s like reading a super-hip indie write-up from back then, dropping names and proclaiming this is the future of music, forward-thinking while honouring the past’s influences. Dubstep was moving on from its inner-London roots, ready to take on all urban locales with techno hand-in-hand, Scuba seemingly ready to play the part of lead and general. Then a Skrillex happened overnight and changed everything. Oh well.

Meanwhile, Sub:Stance does a good job of providing various rugged rhythms and deep basslines. Scuba runs the gamut from minimalist dub (Sigha’s Early Morning Lights, Badawi’s Anlan 7) to UK garage nods (Joy Orbison’s two cuts, George Fitzgerald’s Don’t You), and technobass beasts (Surgeon’s Klonk Pt. 4, Untold’s No-One Likes A Smart Arse, Intra:Mental’s Voyeur), with plenty of abstract broken-beats spread throughout (James Blake’s rub of Mount Kimbie’s Maybes, Ramadanman’s Tempest). As with his DJ-Kicks set, the mixes are quick and surgical, tracks seldom lasting longer than three minutes with only their key features utilized. No sense dawdling on repetitive loops and pointless drum programming, right?

Another similarity to that future mix is ending with an unabashed, hands in the air anthem, in this case Joker’s Psychedelic Runway. Given how heads-down and dark Sub:Stance generally is, it’s shocking hearing such garrish synths and cock-rockin’ rave riffs set to a standard dubstep break. Though considering Scuba ended his Boiler Room set with Madonna’s Vogue, I suspect he can’t help but go for the cheeky climax every time. I will always approve of such shenanigans.

Burial - Rival Dealer

Hyperdub: 2013

I mean, if you have as dedicated and willing a listening audience as Burial’s, why not take the noble road with a Message Album? It’s tricky though, getting them across such that they’re understandable, but without coming off cloying and obvious as fuck. Also, when even the greatest songwriters look goofy in benefit concerts, what hope does a persistently reclusive sort like Mr. Bevan have, especially with a bevy of Burial backlashers waiting in the bleachers? And did they ever pounce when Rival Dealer came out, decrying it the point where Burial had finally fallen off (until this latest single Temple Sleeper anyway), straying too far from his future garage roots into sentimental pap in delivering his one very important thought. Others countered it was bold moving on from dubstep’s resolutely isolationist urban vibe in favor of something uplifting and socially embracing. Debates raged over intent of message versus calculated courting of controversy for the purpose of marketing, posts in comment threads reaching word counts longer than what I self-impose upon myself for these reviews. Oh shit, the review! I still have to talk about the music!

Three tracks make up Rival Dealer, though the way Burial changes course so frequently, it feels like twice as many shorter tunes mashed together forming a whole. The titular opener alone runs the gamut of darkcore jungle, ravey bosh, and rain-soaked cinematic ambience, all fed through Burial’s distinct crackly urban-soul production. Less about songcraft than sound collage, there’s much to digest, a sonic assault provoking a response – whee, art! Hiders, the short cut of the three (other two breach the ten minute mark each) goes in a synth-pop route, including swelling strings, uplifting pianos, and a lovely croon; then, over a minute of field recordings static and dark drone. Talk about contrasts.

Final cut Come Down To Us lays the sentiments on thick as syrup, though the broken beats Burial crafts are nice and thick too, so I can’t complain. As for his pull on your emotions, yeah, this is as subtle as a meat hook in your heart, but damn if he doesn’t pull it off. Burial’s ace remains his appeal to your base emotions, particularly tugs at nostalgia (hello eleven millionth Boards Of Canada comparison) - that he wrenches feeling out of issues of depression, isolation and hope doesn’t surprise me, and I’m more stunned he pulls it off without crossing that aforementioned line of corn. I can see how others wouldn’t agree, and deride Burial for even going there, but as far as I’m concerned, this is as tastefully done as one can hope, given the context of the subject matter.

As for that particular topic, I’m hardly the person to start preaching, but for what it’s worth, I believe it’s absolute shit the way LGBTQ folk have been generally treated. They deserve better, and am glad progress is made in their benefit, slow as it may be. As the sample on Rival Dealer consistently assures throughout, “you’re not alone”.

Burial - Burial

Hyperdub: 2006

About time I get some Burial up in this here bloggin' bitch. I've made reference to him in a dozen other reviews, so it's only proper that I take the once-enigmatic post-dubsteppy future-garageist darling under the critical scalpel at some point. If only he'd have a higher workrate, chucking out EPs, LPs, and CDs at enough of a clip that I'd have covered at least one release by now. Wait... no, never mind, it wouldn't matter anyway. Lord Discogs tells me almost all his musics are titled in the bottom end of the alphabet – that are available on compacted discual format anyway. Man, when Burial goes low, it be low indeed.

Appropriately enough, I'm beginning this Burial business with his self-titled debut album. Come, let me take you to a bizarre time in electronic music history, when dubstep had barely squirted out of the London City underground. Hyperdub, the ultra-cool, savvy UK bass music label known for critically hailed acts like Kode9, Zomby, and DJ Rashad, had just launched. Many pegged it an upstart in the early dubstep scene, as few looked capable of toppling the mighty Tempa in those days. But they hadn't counted on a secret weapon in the likes of Burial emerging from those grimy South London Burroughs.

Thing about early dubstep is it was still entirely indebted to grime rap for its inspiration, especially so the ‘dub’ instrumentals. Grime, however, had emerged from UK garage, a rugged, aggressive counter to that scene’s glitzy urban attributes. D’em London rude-boys, they want no girly vocals and emotions in their gritty beats. Then Burial said, “Nah, guy, we can bring the garage soul to the warehouse. Watch.” And that’s what he done did, taking in garage samples and overdubbing them so they came out as ethereal whispers of UK clubbing’s past, contorted into something abstract and haunting. And geez, does it ever tug at your nostalgia memory centres. Small surprise everyone was quick in making the Boards Of Canada comparison, and it can’t be a coincidence that the Scotland duo took a long hiatus almost immediately after Burial emerged (yes it can).

But that’s the Burial as we’ve come to know, which broke out of UK obscurity with his sophomore album, Untrue. For this album, we only hear that half the time, and no surprise these are among the best tracks within. Distant Lights, Southern Comfort, U Hurt Me, Gutted, and Pirates all play to a sense desolate inner-city soul, even as the rhythmic shuffle echoes crisp and clear off abandoned buildings recently used for squat parties. There’s gentle rain-soaked ambience too (Night Bus, Forgive), but the rest of Burial is still tied to dubstep’s pure-grime roots, music much too sparse and rhythmically clunky for those uninterested in anything UK bass related.

Ultimately, Burial’s debut sounds like he’s exploring where his music can potentially go rather than being bothered in creating a cohesive LP. Considering how many copy-cats its spawned though, he definitely hit upon something special here.

Scuba - Personality

Hotflush Recordings: 2012

Did anyone honestly figure Personality a sell-out? I know the move away from dubstep on Scuba's part would have alienated the hardest of his core followers of the time, but surely not the scene at large, primarily hearing of Mr. Rose only as another hyped named from the super-trendy Hotflush Recordings print. Not a terrible distinction, but if he was to extend his career beyond the rigid, insular fandom that dubstep had cultivated, he’d have to abandon it altogether. Fortunately, his style was already drifting down a different path anyway – heck, his ‘dubstep by way of Detroit’ music was what stood him out in the first place. So bemoan if you must that he never took ‘post-future-garage-step’ any further before being seduced by tech-house, but take heart that all DJs end up playing house eventually.

Personality isn’t a house record (shock!), but it isn’t a gritty techno one either. Rather, it’s a throwback to the earliest days of techno, when the Belleview Three and their immediate successors pictured the future as a funky, fun, and wondrous place rather than a bleak, dystopian one. There’s no hiding Scuba’s inspiration on this album, as anyone with elementary knowledge of the genre’s history shouldn’t have much difficulty in spotting the influences and nods to the forefathers (Hints? Well, Action sounds quite a bit like- hm, no, I don’t think I’ll ruin your trainspotting fun after all).

The good news is Scuba capably keeps his music sounding about as contemporary as ‘80s Detroit techno through UK-bass lenses can, working in bits and pieces of future garage’s stylistic markers. There’s crackly vinyl effects (Underbelly, Gekko), singing soul sista’s floating on past memories (Dsy Chn, Tulips), and even a ‘proper’ dubstep cut in Cognitive Dissonance for your half-step, wobble-bassline fix. It’s not all Detroit either, July coming on more like a Herbie Hancock cut than anything from Metroplex; elsewhere, NE1BUTU falls deep into the raver’s unabashed anthem E-hole, replete with rolling piano licks and sweet-smelling vocal Vicks (??). Nothing gets lost in nostalgia glaze or respectful homage either, the production cutting edge and crisp.

In fact, I think he goes too far in the mastering department. This is one loud album – not in a brick-walled manner as so much pop music goes, but in how much punch it carries. Even with headphones, you feel the weight of these beats, and though Scuba provides plenty of sonic separation with his samples and synths, it’s all front-and-center, directly in your audio face. Imagine watching a High Definition version of O.G. Robocop at a wide-screen theatre in neck breaking middle-seats of Row 2. It looks awesome, but is a bit much to take in at that range.

If that’s the only major gripe against Personality, however, then who gives a flip? The only other complaint I can think of is if you’re dead against anything Scuba makes that isn’t dubstep. Hey, at least you get broken-beats on this album. You sure ain’t hearing that from his sets anymore.

Various - FabricLive 50: D-Bridge & Instra:mental Present Autonomic

Fabric: 2010

*cover art brought to you by FabricLive's “Stuff On Table Is Art” period*

Okay, this is a surprise. Folks offloading their sterile minimal-tech mixes, I can understand - unless you have a profound love for the sound, it's just not gonna make the cut when culling your CD collections. But a mix featuring the likes of Instra:mental and D-Bridge? On FabricLive's fiftieth entry, no less? Then again, Fabric 50 had a ton of pre-hype going into it: speculation over who’d get the honor, what sort of music it might feature... the works. I can’t recall anywhere near the same amount of buzz about FabricLive 50. As with the series itself, it was relegated to the sidelines, an interesting after-fact for those curious about it.

Or maybe folks didn’t quite know what to make of it. For the prior year leading up to this mix, D-Bridge and Instra:mental had been, erm, instrumental in pushing a new form of d’n’b that eschewed all conventions of the genre. Perhaps as a counter to the super-popular ‘rock’n’bass’ Pendulum sound, their music became incredibly stripped down and minimalistic. There was still that sense of bassline groove and urgency, but instead of everything being intense bedlam, music was given space to breathe, bass filling in all the aural gaps. The original dubstep aesthetic is a definite influence, but this stuff was more free-flowing and rolling. No one knew what to call it either. Autonomic, for the label that spawned much of it? Minimal jungle? Personally, I’m going with microfunk, but feel free to come up with something else (always fun times, coming up with new genre names!).

Their mix for FabricLive 50 prominently features this sound, and it can be disconcerting when first thrown on. Many times you (re: me) feel these are all tracks serving as intros, that they’re building anticipation for your typical tear-out jungle session to drop. It never comes though, instead keeping things at similar pace and tone throughout. At times it’ll dip closer to ambient techno or future garage, but mostly Instra:Bridge stick to dubby ‘not-quite-d’n’b’ microfunk.

This isn’t a main room sort of mix, and as our featured mixers provide a bulk of the tracks themselves, some may be let down by the lack of artist variety. To be fair, not many were even pushing this sound in 2010, though a few familiar names like Scuba, ASC, and Genotype help round things out. Apparently these are all exclusives to FabricLive 50, provided upon request from D-mental if they were interested. It’s a definite chill sort of CD, proper headphone material to get a sense of the space these tunes provide. An odd choice for a fiftieth edition of a series, but not a bad one.

Was This Worth The Pennies Paid For It?
Definitely, though I can understand why someone would offload it on the quick and cheap. It’s a mix that forces you to take on its own terms, and some still don’t know what to make of microfunk.