Various - FabricLive. 83: Logan Sama

Fabric: 2015

It's kinda' sad more FabricLive CDs haven't made their way onto the cheapskate's market. Or maybe it's good, suggesting a level of interest the primary series seems to lack for certain spells. It's more sad from my vantage point, missing out on potentially dynamic sets. FabricLive may have started out more of a broken beat option for the Fabric brand, but as the years wore on, it allowed far more musical diversity, showcasing artists with an 'anything goes' mentality that simply wouldn't fit among the house and techno luminaries. Also, remarkably prescient of what hot new trends in the UK underground were due to blow up. Whether you figured these trends were good or bad boils down to personal preference, but it cannot be denied FabricLive was at least giving them some shine when others weren't quite ready for it.

One they did initially miss, however, was grime. To be fair, Fabric was far more focused on nu-skool breaks and d'n'b in those days, so the fact the first wave of that scene passed them by isn't entirely their fault. Nor the fact grime was so quickly subsumed by its dubstep offspring, getting any attention abroad a challenge for much of the '00s. It had its holdouts though, keeping some embers aglow on pirate stations, waiting for its chance to emerge from its underground roots once all the hype surrounding UK bass mutations subsided.

One of the chaps doing so was Logan Sama. In fact, he was so successful in keeping grime alive, he was given a shot at an official BBC program. That... didn't pan out, due to getting... well, not exactly 'me-too'd, but more 'James Gunn'd? Simply put, the internet never forgets whatever edgelord jokes you thought hilarious among your peers.

FabricLive. 83 came out before all that, Mr. Sama still on his way up. As for his set, it's nothing less than a definitive grime throwdown, twenty-four tracks of various *boom-boom, wuub-wub* sounds front to back. The energy remains hype, every track offering something different from the last and never overstaying its welcome before quickly moving onto the next. Far as Lord Discogs can tell, every cut is unique to this set, adding to the music's inner city punkish attitude. That, and the mostly shouty, spittin' multitude of MCs featured.

Oh, there's grime MCs. Lots of grime MCs. I count... three, four... twenty-five, twenty-six... forty-seven, forty-eight... seventy-nine... Yeah, as I said, lots. I even recognize one name in there, Flowdan! A number pop up on multiple tracks (P Money, D Double E, Bossman Birdie, Killa P, Jammz, etc.) but a whole lot more are one-and-done with their verses. I can't help but imagine a huge line-up of every grime rapper in Logan's sphere, itching for a chance to shine, reaching around the block from the studio this was recorded at, like some old-timey amateur talent radio show. Hey, no fair Hitman (25) and Ego (23), cutting back in line! Don't be disrespectin' Discarda like that.

The Bug - Fire

Ninja Tune: 2021

Not that The Bug has never maintained a particular vibe throughout his career, but man, do you ever gotta' be in A Mood to enjoy Fire. I'm not even sure if 'enjoyment' is capable here. For sure one could connect or 'get hype' to it, but the apocalyptic tone this album maintains is relentless, almost no hope of rescue in sight. Kevin Martin certainly is no stranger to painting portraits of urban decay, but always tempered with moments of revelation and salvation, an escape hatch available should you be fortunate enough to find it. Not so with Fire, and while I've indulged music of the utterly depressive kind (oh hi, dark ambient!), this seems like quite the extreme turn for The Bug. What could possibly have inspired Mr. Martin to craft such an album like this?

If the opening monologue from Roger Robinson is anything to go by, it was the pandemic. I don't know what Kevin Martin's thoughts about lockdowns and masking and vaccines and whatnot are, but regardless, during the period he made this album, he seemed to envision a near future where everything that could go wrong from this event does. And in a weird way, it's honestly already made Fire a bit dated. Yeah, things looked uncertain and bleak for a while there, but in just half a year after this album dropped, we were already doing are dogged best to get back to 'normal living'. Whether we were premature in doing so remains up for some debate, but there's little doubt the Worst Case Scenario portrayed in Fire has practically no chance of coming to pass. It's like an '80s Cold War movie predicting nuclear holocaust occurring during the '90s, but watching it in the 21st Century.

Speaking of, first proper track Pressure opens as though hearing the blasting klaxxon of the oncoming hellfire, frequent Bug collaborator Flowdan dropping his usual grime bars over distorted bass tones. And it's pretty much the same thing for the rest of the album. Yeah, there's plenty of other MCs on hand, all lending a variety of flows, though no Warrior Queen, sadly. I rather like Nazamba's utterly ragged and raw tone in War, perfectly befitting such a grimy, marching track. Manga Saint Hilare in Bang and High Rise also stood out to me, for no other reason than his higher pitch made for a prominent contrast to The Bug's omnipresent low-ends. Oh, and Daddy Freddy, just because his pure dancehall Ganja Baby seems like such a leftfield peppy tune among all the surrounding despair.

Despair, yeah, that's certainly a vibe on Fire. While The Bug's usual aggression is present, it's also often muffled, as though the righteous call-to-arms is forever stomped out and quashed. Not to mention that ever-present wailing wind, as though blowing dirt and grit through the hollowed remains of urban centres. As I said, certainly an album for when you're in a particular mood, and you don't want to get out of either.

Modeselektor - Hello Mom!

BPitch Control: 2005

(a Patreon Request)

T'was neigh impossible missing out on Modeselektor throughout the '00s, if anything because of their unique logo. By the time they established their own Monkeytown Records print, you couldn't go anywhere within German tech-house circles without stumbling upon some variation of it. Then they teamed with Apparat to form Moderat, and hoo, were the tech-haus press ever a'twitter over it. They've actually kept that group together ever since as their creative output, Modeselektor receding to the background of DJing and label management. It all had to start somewhere though, so let's go back to beginnings of the Modeselektor empire, all the way back in ...1996? Whoa, too far back! Better at least fast forward to the current millennium, when Misters Bronsert and Szary actually started releasing music under the guise.

So the lads Gernot and Sebastian got chummy with Berlin tastemaker Ellen Allien, whom in a city filled with so-called tastemakers, actually does make hay with her taste. They signed to her BPitch Control print and released a few EPs of left-leaning IDM wonk techno and electro, even getting in on that trendy micro-glitch stuff. Not much of which would have any commercial appeal, is what I'm saying, so the fact they seemed to settle down on the experimentation leading up to this debut album must have had their long-standing fans concerned. Or maybe not, eager to finally hear Modeselektor bust out some club-friendly jams.

I don't know if they expected 'euro-crunk' though, as the Mode-boys likened their opening few tunes off Hello Mom! It sure ain't American crunk; more like 'glitch-grime', but hey, can't let those Brits think you're style-bitin' for a minute. So tracks like Dancingbox, Silikon and Fake Emotion cut up and glitch up their beats and vocals in a super-micro sort of way. Some other tunes are clearly in line with what German clubbers were flailing about to (before the ketamine kicked in), Tetrispack a jolly bouncy electro-house ditty and Kill Bill Vol. 4 reminding you that Alter Ego's Rocker was barely a year old still.

Then there's the IDM stuff. Oh lordy, is there every IDM stuff, sounding as though it's coming from an entirely different album than one with the above tunes. Vote Or Die is the one you all know, a lovely ambient-electro ditty that needed more compilation shine than just James Zabiela's Renaissance set (the great one!). And how can you not adore the retro-Aphex vibes of Ziq Zaq? Or the gothic electro-funk of The Rapanthem? Or the crunchy organ shuffle-crunch of In Loving Memory? Or the Artificial Intelligence techno bliss of I Love You?

Oh, it's because you just wanted more Kill Bill Vol. 4s? Don't worry, mang, there will be plenty of such tunes in the half-decade following this album, though not from Modeselektor. I think. I dunno', I haven't listened to all their output yet. If it's more the middle of Hello Mom! than the outer portions of the album (save closer I Love You), count me intrigued.

Various - Hyperdub 10.1

Hyperdub: 2014

It's hard to undersell just how Very Important of a label Hyperdub turned out. Even if you excise the Burial factor, it's been home to many producers that helped steer the course of UK garage into ever stranger and weirder future incarnations. Acts like Kode9 (founder), Space Ape, Zomby, The Bug, Mala, Flowdan, Kyle Hall, Inga Copeland, Darkstar, Ikonika, and loads more have made their home on Hyperdub at one point or another. While I can't say I've messed with many of them over the years, I cannot deny the label's earned a pedigree in tapping unique artists that have caught my ear more often than not. Considering the UK garage scene at large is filled with redundant, generic, cheap-ass half-step beats and gimmicky bass noises, that's no mean feat.

I've long considered diving deeper into the Hyperdub discography than whatever Burial and The Bug have released, and while there are a number of Very Recommended records, I wondered whether there was an easier way, a handier way, a box-settier way. Why, hello there, Tenth Anniversary four-volume, six CD collection celebrating the label, how you doin'? Of course, even this set is a little old now, Hyperdub coming upon their fifteenth anniversary in short order. I don't doubt for a second they won't celebrate that, having done a little roll-out of their fifth birthday too, when all they had to their name were some critically hailed works from Kode9 and Burial.

Things really started rolling from there though, hence a quadrupling of material for this box-set. And kicking things off for Hyperdub 10.1 is nothing less than a double-CD of material, with all the familiar Hyperdub names, and then some. DJ Taye! Cooly G! Ill Blu! Mark Pritchard! (!!) Terror Danjah! LV! DJ Rashad! Too many more to name-drop!

As each volume of this box-set focuses on a specific genre or style of music, you bet the first would feature that dubstep action. Or, post-dubstep, I guess – whatever it was folks tried to label the Hyperdub sound (certainly not bland wub-wub). There's also, according to Lord Discogs: Bassline, Grime, Techno, UK Garage, Abstract, and Juke. What, no Trap? Sure sounds like a lot of rat-a-tat-tat hi-hats and snares among these two CDs. Right, trap wasn't really a UK thing, but they had a whole bunch of other names for ghetto beats.

And that's the sense I get from these twenty-three, two-to-four minute tracks, where drums kits, acid boxes and samples are chopped and screwed in such scattershot fashion, it feels like you're hearing music made by the slummiest of musicians too broke to afford any proper production or studio time. Y'know, real music, like punk rock, unfettered and uncut from the soul, technical limitations be damned. Or something.

I dunno. Sometimes I feel journalists made this stuff seem more important because of that supposed authenticity than any actual musical merit. Wouldn't be the first time that happened, especially in UK-Land.

Various - Zentertainment 2004

Ninja Tune: 2004

My early years in the The Big City was tough, financial frugality forcing me to be ultra-picky in what new music I'd buy for myself. After Shadow Records folded though, where could I find a quick fix of jazzy, downtempo urban vibes on a poor student's income? Hello, Ninja Tune, what have you here? A low-budget sampler called Zentertainment 2004. I'd kinda' forgotten about the Ninja folk at that point (despite the 3CD box set Xen Cuts sitting on every store shelf, always), so this looked as handy a reintroduction to their tunes as any.

And the CD opens with exactly the right stuff I was expecting, Skalpel's 1958 the sort of broken-beat, jazzdance, cut'n'paste track one can't help but associate with the label that Coldcut built. Yeah, there were other prominent prints that dabbled in the sound, but they had no Cinematic Orchestra or Hexstatic on their roster. Speaking of, Hexstatic's super-funky Chase Me comes next, about as vintage of Ninja Tune funk as you can get. In fact, at the time I heard it, I couldn't help but get a nagging sense of the label not evolving much since the '90s. I didn't mind it, but surely there'd been a few new sounds they could be promoting in the year 2004 too. What even was going down in London undergrounds around that time anyway?

Ah, here's a new cat, some dude by the name of Diplo. His Don't Fall is kinda' different from what I normally expected of Ninja Tune, a broken-beat that's got a prominent half-step shuffle going for it. All those cut-up funk and jazz samples though, doesn't sound too different from Amon Tobin's efforts. Maybe if he focuses more on his rhythms, and doesn't rely so much on emulating what Ninja Tune alum have done, this Diplo chap might find himself a healthy career.

Like that Sixtoo guy, at the end of the CD. Holy cow, his Boxcutter Emporium is over ten minutes of various vibes, an utterly epic outing of trip-hop, illbient, and the sort of instrumentals RZA would get weak in the knees over. And what's with that weird mid-section, with the half-step rhythms and skitchy bassline that's like a buzzing sawblade cutting through the beats? Pretty dope, is what, definitely what I envisioned getting hyped in the London underground. And the dude's Canadian too? Mark my words, us Canucks will be defining this weird sound in the future years, believe you me!

A few familiar Ninja Tune names round out Zentertainment 2004 (Jaga Jazzist, Wagon Christ, Blockhead, cLOUDDEAD), plus the dancehall/grime scene gets a look-in too (Lotek HiFi's Ram Dancehall, Infinite Livez' Worcestershire Sauce). Yep, that's about as tidy a sum-up of Ninja Tune in the year 2004 as you're gonna' get. Still, none of this is exclusive to this CD, so unless you find it dirt cheap in the pawn shops or you're a Ninja completist, there isn't much reason to get Zentertainment 2004 fourteen years on.

The Bug vs Earth - Concrete Desert

Ninja Tune: 2017

First Kevin Martin made shockwaves as The Bug with London Zoo. Then he retreated from the alias to focus on a new project with Roger Robinson as King Midas Sound. That did awesome-sauce as well, and it looked as though he'd find a way to flit between the two projects, dedicating his Bug works to the dancehall and grime side of his muse, while working out the dubby, droned-out soul portion of his brain with King Midas Sound. He even got started on a running series with the latter (Edition), inviting like-minded artists in for a little collaborative work. A couple years pass, and it looks about time for either another Bug effort or a second Edition. Figures Mr. Martin opted for a little of both in Concrete Desert, giving us a Bug album that also serves as a collaboration with a prominent drone musician.

Said drone musician is Dylan Carlson, he of the drone metal band Earth and member of the Rasputin Look-Alike Club. Seems they're credited as kicking off that whole scene within the metal pantheon, getting their start sometime in the early '90s. Hey, Kevin Martin was also doing rock music of a sort back then, though more of a post-punk, noise thing that led him to exploring all things dubby later that decade. They have different approaches to their chosen craft, but the endgame seems the same: finding the musical nuances in the empty spaces between notes and sounds.

And Concrete Desert definitely does that. Something of an ode to outer Los Angeles as viewed through a David Lynch lens, there's plenty 'nuff drone tones to go around. In fact, the longest cuts on here go entirely beatless, American Dream and the closing titular track both breaching the ten-minute mark as Misters Martin and Carlson feast off of each others feedback fuzz, sustained guitar timbre, and heavy dub production. These could fit snugly in the dark ambient camps in how bleak and dispiriting they come across. Even the ambient opener City Of Fallen Angels, while a tad more melodic and calm, still comes off suffocating, as though choking on desolate urban heat.

That's all well and good, but folks coming into a Bug album expect some crunchy, bass-heavy beats too. For sure he delivers, though even these come off sparse, more in service of Dylan's evolving drone. Gasoline has a strident march that Dylan's guitar rides on, Snakes & Rats assaults you like a sonic cannon, Don't Walk These Streets quickens the marching pace as all manner of tonal wickedness lurks in the shadowed alleys, and Broke... kinda' reminds me of a NIN interlude.

Nate Patrin of Pitchfork calls Concrete Desert “neo-neo-noir music”, to which I say, “fuck off, Pitchfork, and your retarded hyper-hyphenated genres.” They are right in saying that it “draws you into its discomfort” though. These are far from inviting tones to hear, but Bug and Earth craft such a seductive, sonic dance, you can't help but wander these desolate streets regardless.

Liquid Stranger - The Arcane Terrain

Interchill Records: 2011

In his near decade of music making, Liquid Stranger has shown no fear in tackling any and all forms of bass heavy dub beats. Sometimes this has led him to the realms of psy-dub or dancehall grime, but other times he's wilfully tackled teeth-grinding dubsteb too. And while I know full well to avoid his (probable) bro'd out endeavours on Rottun, that doesn't mean his material on other labels won't have instances to the stuff either. Even Interchill Records, they of so much world beat vibes, couldn't be completely resistant to it. Fact is if you’re releasing any form of bass music in British Columbia, you have to show your hand on what aspects of dubstep you can bring. The market is just too big, too involved, to completely ignore it. And if ever there was a year to sell-out to that scene completely, it’d be ye’ olde time of 2011, when dubstep was brought screeching into popular discourse by a stray Skr-r-r-r-r-rillex. Thus, this was Mr. Stääf’s big chance to show me how versatile he truly was, whether he could drop a dubstep album on my ears with all these potentially disastrous elements at play.

Oh, who am I kidding? This is all just coincidence. I picked The Arcane Terrain up because the cover intrigued me, as quirky covers so often do. Artist and label aside, I’m still not sure how this wasn’t a forest psy CD.

And while that ‘show me’ angle does have some truth, it’s all pretty much moot Yes, at times The Arcane Terrain sounds like it’s an album entirely geared for the festival circuit. That doesn’t mean it’s a dubstep love-in, Liquid Stranger more often than not getting his muse on with the dancehall side of dub than anything else. That still leaves him with some annoyingly barebones tracks though, like second track Bombaclaad Star, nothing going for it than a steady hand-waving bop and an occasional mid-range fill (MC Shells’ toasting is hopelessly dull); y’know, the scene of every cliché dubstep party ever. Other tracks like Steam and Timeless follow this template too, but if Liquid Stranger was just a one-trick pony in this vein, I’d never have started digging into his discography in the first place.

I could have done without the protest-grime cuts Rise and Babylon Beast, but cool on Mr. Stääf’s part in getting KRS-One and Killah Priest on these tracks. My jam though, is always the pure reggae roots of dub music, with The Molecule Man and Vigilante doing the deed just fine. We also get some dabbling into bhangra (Totem, Laguna), gitch-chill (Overlord), trip-hop (The Squid Strander), and whatever’s going on with Zero Gravity (Balearic chill-grime?). More than ever, it shows how diverse Liquid Stranger can go, even when he doesn’t have to.

The Arcane Terrain is probably still too dubsteppy for those who can’t stand the stuff, but if you have some tolerances for the mid-range wobbles, there’s plenty other dubbed-out tunes to satisfy your ears.

Coldcut - Sound Mirrors (2015 Update)

Ninja Tune: 2006

Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.

Here we are, nearly a decade since Coldcut dropped what thus far looks to be a final album. They still may make room for another – Sound Mirrors and their previous LP, Let Us Play!, had a similar gap – but I guess their muses haven't needed an indulging of the production console lately. Did they turn jaded their Big Issues Album didn't garner much impact? All the Important Messages and sloganeering amounted to one big 'meh' from club culture, to say nothing of disinterest from the rest of the music world. Not that they had much chance. Green Day couldn't do it. Dixie Chicks couldn't do it. Hell, if even Neil F'n Young couldn't get folks riled enough to impeach the President, Coldcut sure ain't gonna' turn the tide in the face of such overwhelming apathy. But ooh, look at the glowing pyramid those Daft Punk robots made. Oooh, such shiny, much jangly!

Maybe we should have listened though. Playing this ten year old collection of music and lyrics again, my God how did we ever survive the ‘00s? The world was in total collapse, decaying before our very ears as heard in A Whistle And A Prayer. Corporations were running amok, controlling our every whim (Man In A Garage), providing us absolutely soulless escapism in canned mainstream music (Just For The Kick). Government spies and spooks lurked everywhere (Boogie Man), obviously controlled by higher powers above, abroad, underneath, and ether-wheres (Everything Is Under Control). Even those who proclaim doing good in the world are shady fucks, milking and bilking the wretched for personal gains (Aid Dealer). Dear lord, no wonder poor ol' Mr. Nichols wanted to jump from a building – either all of society was doomed, or you had to flee to the outbacks and live your life as a dirty hippie, essentially isolated and in denial of global issues.

Obviously, that isn’t an accurate portrayal of the haughty Aughties. Hell, I'm sure many would argue that we're worse off now than in that cheery year of 2006, what with crippling recessions, rapid climate change, increased racial strife, and endless sectarian violence. Pity Mr. Nichols if he decided the things worrying him weren't enough to end his life. Are things truly so dire though? We got problems, no doubt, but an abundance of protest music there doth lack in our current climes. Maybe artists only get riled up when there's a Republican President.

Or perhaps with global shrinkage comes greater understanding of the world we live in. A better track off Sound Mirrors, the Robert Owens featuring Walk A Mile In My Shoes, is one of the few times the album provides an actual solution to solving issues instead of just ranting about all that’s wrong. While it may not be possible to literally live the lives of others, social media certainly gave us more access to understanding the people in such positions. And more knowledge will only help the march of progress for all. (weee! Soapboxing is fun!)

Gorillaz - Plastic Beach (Proper Review)

Parlaphone: 2010

Damon Albarn and Jamie Hewlett, you brilliant bastards. First you create a charming ‘anti-pop’ pop cartoon band, then you give them ongoing history and continuity. Following that, you withhold working on said project for only those times you’re bothered to engage with it, turning each Gorillaz release into an event. I quipped in the kayfabe review the cartoon character’s antics were eclipsing their music, but reality isn’t that far off either. The release of Plastic Beach saw a ridiculous amount of multi-media promotion, fully embracing all the broadcasting power of our Web 2.0 society, including any extraneous detritus that comes with it (no, I don’t want the super-deluxe internet-enhanced version of this album, thank you, CD sticker).

Albarn's inspiration for this Gorillaz session came from an unusual place compared to previous albums. Instead of making a musical statement against the corporate machine, the rubbish buried in the sand near his beach house gave him pause with the current state of our planet. What a perfect time to ascend the soapbox then, especially under the guise of a beloved collection of world-class misfits. Hewlett, for his part, wasn't so convinced, feeling particularly finished with the whole Gorillaz concept. Still, with the opportunity to further morph his cartoon creations to reflect a growing sense of global crisis, he rose to the challenge. Murdoc turned further demonic; 2D became traumatized by the events, his distinct black eye sockets now pale white; Russell grew ginormous, a side-effect of swimming all the way to Plastic Beach while consuming all the nasty pollution in the waters between; Noodle was incognito, but don't worry, here's a cyborg replacement. Wee, such fun things we do to these fictional characters!

The result is one of the most conceptually cohesive LPs under the Gorillaz banner, with bittersweet funk and soul melded with tinny Casio electro-hop and quirky Brit-pop throughout. While some could argue such stylistic markers as a bit of a bandwagon jump on Albarn’s part (Owl City was omnipresent), it fits the tone Albarn was shooting for, a mishy-mash of plastic sounds, as though cobbled together from all manner of musical debris gathered at Point Nemo. Plenty of rappers once again join in for guest spots, including Snoop Dogg, Kano & Bashy, Mos Def, plus a returning De La Soul. Unfortunately, none of their verses match the highs found on older Gorillaz hits (you know the ones). Yet, I suspect that was intentional too, Plastic Beach not as interested in aiming for peak chart impact as before, even with a few earwormy bits like Stylo’s breezy electro-funk and On Melancholy Hill’s dreamy lullaby sweetness thrown in.

The caveat with Plastic Beach is it lacks the guiding hand of an establish hip-hop producer (Dangermouse, Dan The Automator), Albarn handling most of those duties himself this time out. He’s definitely learned a lot, showing skill in the style his taken on here. If you enjoyed older Gorillaz for the gritty hip-hop and fearless funk-fusion, however, it’s sorely lacking here.

Gorillaz - Plastic Beach (Kayfabe Review)

Parlaphone: 2010

The remarkable thing about Plastic Beach was that it got made at all. Murdoc Niccals must have burned so many bridges (not to mention countless buildings and studios) throughout his career, it’s any wonder he can find willing participants and collaborators for his music projects. Hell, rumors abound that 2D initially wasn't a willing participant, though Murdoc denies any allegations of kidnapping on his part. Mind, as with anything Mr. Niccals claims, take it with a twenty pound lump of salt, but one cannot deny 2D sounded about as fine in singing form throughout Plastic Beach as he ever has. Maybe he just needs Murdoc's, um, 'encouragement', every so often. Might explain the inspiration for that that secret solo album he recorded while the band was touring this one.

Or perhaps ol’ Murdoc had finally saw the excesses of his life consuming him, and he promised to turn over a new leaf if all his music friends came with him to Point Nemo in making this album. Either that, or he was in need of an army to defend him from those Boogiemen after him. Let this be a lesson to all you budding musicians out there: don’t make deals with the devil for your fame, or you’ll suffer from incessant collectors, and no amount of awesome bass shredding skills is worth that.

Okay, off my perch there. Point is, Murdoc must have gotten incredibly reflective of his life to have written an album like this one. Plastic Beach was never going to be Demon Days, for no better fact than Noodle couldn’t contribute to this album (and sorry, Mr. Niccals, the cyborg could never replace her). A shame, since a few upbeat tunes like Dirty Harry and Dare might have elevated Plastic Beach to unprecedented heights of awesome. Ah well, she had other issues to deal with at the time. Now that the band’s all back together though (where ever they’re currently hiding), maybe they’ll finally find a new studio, and we can hear a proper full-on Gorillaz collaborative project!

Plastic Beach though, man is it ever a mellow album. It boggles my mind that Murdoc wrote the entirety of it – seriously, are there ghostwriters here? That guy from Blur, for instance, who headlined the second unit Gorillaz tour group, he looks suspicious. Or maybe Murdoc is just a bigger softy than he ever lets on, a gumdrop sugar candy wrapped in icky green skin complexion. Guess that would explain why all these rappers and musicians came when he called upon them, though it would have been nice if he’d waited for Russel to show up too. Right, Murdoc felt the Casio drums fit the Plastic Beach theme, but I’m missing that tasty, bassy hip-hop funk from way back in the day. Changing tides, I guess.

Plastic Beach is fine for what it is, though unfortunately the events surrounding the band tended to overshadow the music within. So it goes with Gorillaz these days, doesn’t it?

The Bug - Angels & Devils

Ninja Tune: 2014

It wasn't fair. Kevin Martin's aim with London Zoo was showcasing the hot sounds of the UK capital's grime and dancehall scene, but the album ended up being critically hailed an instant classic that would be impossible to follow upon. So goes the journalistic narrative anyway, one which The Bug hadn't planned for. And all because London Zoo dropped at dubstep's flashpoint of crossover interest, thus any and all bass heavy music from the UK was re-purposed to fit the story arc of “This Is The Sound Of The Future!” by every two-bit writer of electronic music (guilty as charged). It was deemed a Very Important Record in the way it demonstrated dubstep’s exciting potential, even if the music within had only a tangential relationship with that scene’s growing dominance.

Point being, if journalists and folks were figuring The Bug would set out to produc another trend-defining LP for our current times, then they're in for some disappointment. I wasn’t though, perfectly content in knowing ol’ Kevin would deliver his music on his terms and not the expectations thrust upon him. He’s earned the respect to do whatever he wishes, even if he took his sweet time in figuring that out.

If you longed London Zoo never ended, the good news is Angels & Devils more or less carries on from that album. Mr. Martin found himself a solid groove then, and there’s little reason to upset that apple cart when he can still tinker with his winning formula of dancehall grime and crushing dub bass. For instance, he’s invited more female toasters to this LP, including ambient drone ma’am Liz Harris (aka: Grouper), Hype Williams member Inga Copeland, and relative newcomer Miss Red. They all make up an ethereal first half of the album, where Buggy gets to indulge in the chill side of his dub works. Also an added wrinkle to his sound are trap snares (especially in Void, Function, and Mi Lost), because of course there would be.

Let’s be honest though: The Bug’s ace in the hole remains dancehall demolishing tracks, and he delivers in the back half with his chosen devils. Flowdan’s back! Warrior Queen’s back! Death Grips’ now here (wait, didn’t they disband?)! And the bass... well naturally that’s here. There’s nothing subtle about these tracks, coming in ugly, primal, and as aggressive as the most ghetto-dank grime hole you could lose your sense of self in. More please!

Oh, wait, Angels & Devils is already over. Damn, that went by quick, and felt like it was missing something too. I can’t say it’s a lack of ‘album execution’, since it provides exactly what it says in the title: an LP of two halves, one light, the other dark. I guess the unenviable comparison to London Zoo’s too much to overlook, as that record had impeccable album narrative and flow from start to finish, whereas Angels & Devils just comes as it means to go (wha...?). Oh, what the heck, I’ll take it.

King Cannibal - Ninja Tune XX Presents: The Way Of The Ninja

Ninja Tune: 2010

70 Minutes Of Madness? This one’s insanity, two-hundred fifty-six tunes utilized, some barely for a second's worth of sample. This isn't a DJ mix in the traditional sense, but rather an overambitious collage celebrating Ninja Tune's twentieth anniversary, ramming and jamming as many cuts and blends possible so no one significant is left behind. And while King Cannibal was at it, here's the sub-labels getting repped too: Big Dada, N-Tone, and Counter. Can’t deny Mr. Richards’ passion for this project, but can there be fault in the final product?

Depends how you approach The Way Of The Ninja. As a DJ set highlighting all the Ninja Tune, it’s far too stuffed with content for any sustained flow. The label made their name with acid jazz, trip-hop, turntablisism, and other down-low soulful-funky genres of the ‘90s, and even as their influence waned, they kept their fingers on the pulse of new developments - dubstep, grime, and even indie rock found homes within Ninja Tune’s archives, always signing music and acts beyond class. Just as well, then, that The Cannibalistic Lord divided everything up into uniquely titled sections featuring specific genres or highlighting certain artists. Including the Intro, Way Of The Ninja has twenty of these mini-megamixes within the mix. And remember, there’s two-hundred fifty-six individual tracks used, all crammed into these indexes. This CD, it’s full of musics!

The Intro track alone, at just under two minutes long, has nineteen bits and pieces listed. The shortest track on here, subtitled Big Tunes, Big Hits, runs a minute-twenty and has a ‘mere’ eight tunes, including two mixes of More Beats & Pieces. Meanwhile, the lengthiest one, Welcome To Our Ageing Sideshow, clocks in at the heftier side of six minutes, also with nineteen tunes squeezed in (ooh, Timber’s in this one!). Hell, two more chunks, I Wanna See All The Hands and Tings Get Heat Up, Rewound And Torn Down hold about the same number of tracks, with a mere four minutes of run-time. So much musics, man, just so much musics.

Artists? Coldcut, Amon Tobin, Herbaliser, Roots Manuva, DJ Vadim, Mr. Scruff, DJ Food, Hexstatic, Bonobo, Neotropic, The Bug, Sixtoo, Jaga Jazzist, Super Numeri, Funki Porcini, Qemists, Cujo, Spank Rock, Thunderheist, Fink, 2 Player, Wagon Christ, Anti Pop Consortium- Look, I’ll be here forever if I list off the near-entirety of the Ninja Tune roster. Same with pointing out specific tracks, although obviously not every single song’s on here. And, while King Cannibal tries giving many their due, some get cut short (no Irresistible Force, what?) or have barely a token sample tossed in. For instance, I was gutted the bass drop of his own Flower Of Flesh And Blood never materialized. Wow, I actually missed a dubstep drop. Crazy.

So’s The Way Of The Ninja. It’s a fun CD if you want to relive so much Ninja Tune in a short amount of time, but best treated as a novelty rather than a proper showcase of the label’s rich history.

Various - FabricLive.43: Switch & Sinden Present Get Familiar

Fabric: 2008

*cover art brought to you by FabricLive's “Random Crap Smashed On People's Faces” period*

What? No. No! I'm on vacation, damn it. Leave me alone, Fabric On A Budget project. I'll deal with you when I get back in a week. What do you mean I always intended to carry on with this while away from home? Okay, sure, I brought the music with me, but that doesn't mean I'd write reviews for it – keep myself familiarized with the CDs while I was away, that's all. But there's only two left, an end goal in sight, easily attainable, not worth leaving hanging and forceably getting excited for upon my return. This year's Fabric excursion has turned into a slog after all – more good mixes than bad, absolutely, but dealing with the same topic over and over and over drains the creative synapses something dreadful. Maybe I should...

Oh, alright, I'm already bored out here in the Peace River region. Sometimes I forget just how hinter these hinterlands get.

Let's take a look at what's next, then. We're finally out of the 30s, and entering another weird, transitional period in electronic music's history. Dubstep was blowing up big, the nu-EDM was just around the corner, older forms of UK garage were finding fondness among young clubbers, and many producers of the old guard were scrambling to keep up with these shifting trends. The two cats with credits on the cover of FabricLive.43, Switch & Sinden, were riding this wave with some success, in part due to an occasional night at Fabric called Get Familiar. Don't care about the deep underground, simply having an urge to cut loose with fun-time club jams that even the most Axe-drenched bro can enjoy? These guys got you covered – or Sinden does anyway, since Switch wasn't the DJ.

More so, if you love the UK's various rave-garage aspects, you'll adore FabricLive.43. Speed garage! Throwback hardcore anthems! - no actual classics though. Grime-house! (!??) Dubstep! Bassline! (re: speed garage) No 2-step though, that stuff's strictly for the chicky-poos, mate. Only hard wobble dirt low-ends, and rot-snot. Bleh.

I know this stuff's pure heaven for its targeted scene, but my tolerance for hoodlum UK garage only lasts a few tracks before the novelty of shuffle rhythms and south London rappers wears itself out. I've never figured out how such nonsense bassline sounds are taken seriously, but then this is the same country that also gave us 'donk' music. Sinden's mixing doesn't do much to warm the music up either, always in a hurry to drop another track in a different style with no regard for set flow. Can't let the tunes linger too long, I guess, lest the listener realize how silly it all is and put on something with more substance instead.

Was This Worth The Pennies Paid For It?
I could have bought $5 beers at the nearby redneck bar playing bro-country, and it would have been a better bargain.

Various - Muzik Magazine Dance Awards 2001 Vol. 1: The Party

Muzik Magazine: 2001

It’s gotta’ be quite the ego boost holding your own awards ceremony, convincing others your insights and rankings hold weigh over others in the same field of expertise. Music journalism’s no different, nearly every rag with even marginal sway taking time out of their regular reporting for yearly ‘Best Of’ articles. If they have enough financial backing, they can even hand out little trophies at parties! I think the only electronic music magazines that still have that sort of clout are Mixmag and DJMag, but during clubbing’s last commercial peak at the turn of the millennium, several others got in on that action too, including Muzik.

Well, if there's any rag's awards I'd trust, it'd be Muzik's. I can't recall off-hand who won what, though Norman Cook, Sasha, and some bloke from New Order were on the cover, so they must have won something – maybe that cigar Sasha’s smoking? Oh, and a trashy looking Erol Alkan posing with his Best New DJ/Clubnight/Something trophy was hi-lar-ious!

With any music awards, there must also be a music CD spotlighting tunes. There were two giveaways with the awards issue, though us folks in the Americas only got The Party disc – some licensing hiccup denied us the other option, turns out. From what Lord Discogs tells me, we weren't missing much with The Future disc, what with names like PMT, Chris Coco, and Dirty Vegas in that track list. Not too hot a prediction regarding tastemakers of tomorrow on Muzik's part there, though at least they got that James Holden chap right.

Muzik Magazine Dance Awards 2001 Vol. 1: The Party features the sort of tracks you’d expect to rake in ‘Best Of’ lists for that year. Felix da Housecat’s Madam Hollywood, Fatboy Slim’s Star 69 by way of a techy remix, Röyksopp’s Eple, Stanton Warriors’ Da Virus, and Danny Tenaglia’s rub of Depeche Mode’s I Feel Loved all make the cut. Also, the track list offers a solid snapshot of all the trendy sounds running around the UK that year. Oxide & Neutrino’s Nuff Of Dem Watch Me shows off the emergent grime scene, Silicone Soul’s The Answer gets its groovy deep tech-house soul moving, trip-hop’s still in cool-mode thanks to Goldfrapp’s Utopia, and them th’ar nu skool, nu-nu-skool breaks have their moment thanks to Plump DJs’ Big Groovy Funker. Aw yeah, it’s like I’m playin’ Wipeout Fusion all over again!

Of course, anyone with a solid ear to the ground in 2001 would have gotten most of these tunes anyway. Well, maybe not that Warren Clarke Mix of Banda Sonora’s Guitarra G - while some seriously funky Latin Balearic house music, disco and French house were the king and tyrant of club land. This only helps prove that Muzik, for as snarky and off-base they could sometimes be, at least tried their damndest to promote fresh, unheralded sounds. I’ve yet to find a comparable replacement in contemporary EDM journalism, and maybe never will. Guess I’ll just continue ripping off their quips.

The Bug - London Zoo (Original TC Review)

Ninja Tune: 2008

(2014 Update:
Oh dear, is poor, poor 2008 Sykonee ever unaware of what else was happening in dubstep, outside the MetaCritic narrative anyway. Little did I know it would be tracks by Rusko, Coki, and Benga, seemingly novelty wub-wub cuts, that would dominate dubstep's future. Fortunately, acts like Burial, Martyn, and even The Bug were retroactively reclassified as other branches of UK garage, thus properly being distanced by fans and commentators from all the bro-drop nonsense to follow. Guess that dates this review a little, in that it was still that transitional phase where lines were being drawn, but had I been following dubstep's development from the beginning, I'd have known of these differences already. Yeah, well, it took most American-side folks even longer than it did your's truly to figure it out, and I was just beginning to give it a chance in 2008. No blame.

Kevin Martin hasn't been terribly busy on the production front since releasing London Zoo, a smattering of singles all to his name. Following up such a critically hailed album must hold some pressure on the long-time UK dancehall tastemaker, but if he continues down the acid road as he explored with last year's Hardcore Lover, here's hoping another ace LP is in the works.)


IN BRIEF: Delightfully deviant dancehall.

A year ago, a then anonymous Burial helped propel a then anonymous young genre called dubstep into wide recognition. His sophomore effort, Untrue, was not only hailed as a classic by those within its scene, but by nearly everyone who came within earshot of it as well. And something that I’m sure no one could have ever predicted, it sits atop the best albums of 2007 at Metacritic (interestingly, sharing the spot with The Field’s From Here We Go Sublime; who said electronic music was dead?). Surely though, that was just a once-in-a-blue-moon occurrence. After all, dubstep itself is far too urban, simplistic, and London-based to have any real impact beyond its core fans of jungle refugees, spliff-heads, and inner-city stylists, right?

For a good part of 2008, it appeared such a claim would hold true; very few dubstep producers that suddenly came out of the woodworks seemed capable of matching Burial’s impact. Then practically out of nowhere, longtime reggae and dancehall tastemaker Kevin Martin (The Bug) released his third album to much critical acclaim, such that, as of this writing, it currently sits atop Metacritic’s best albums of 2008. Considering it shares the honor with a retrospective from influential cut-n-paste hip-hop producer Steinski, that’s an impressive feat - an album of fresh material standing toe-to-toe with a double-disc of back-catalogue. With less than two months left in the year, it looks as though dubstep is set to be riding a critical high into the New Year once again.

Is it warranted though? Sure, the music is undoubtedly the freshest to emerge in some time but could all the critical praise for it be nothing more than a “nu-genre” honeymoon? After all, isn’t dubstep just a bunch of half-step beats, gratuitous dub reverb, displaced jungle basslines, and crackly white-noise fluff? Nay, mon - The Bug proves there’s a great deal one can do with the sound.

Truth be told, London Zoo isn’t a strict dubstep album; rather, Martin’s roots in, er, roots is the dominate focus, with the rich history of Jamaican-influenced music bursting through every pocket. Yeah, yeah… what’s with Britain co-opting their former colony’s culture for their own use, you quibble. [TranceCritic]’s been over this one plenty enough, so let’s not get into it; just accept that there are Jamaican transplants in the UK, such that themes of Jah and fights against oppression sounds just as pertinent here as on any Marley or Perry record.

Besides, with Martin’s skill behind the knobs injecting dubstep’s futuristic aesthetic into the works, classic dancehall jams are re-invigorated for the modern era with brilliant results. Even if you’ve never fancied the sound, the wobbly, punctual rhythms and grimey atmospherics will grab your attention right out of the gate and hold it until the final obligatory ‘repent, for Judgement Day is nigh’ finale. And that bass. Good God (Jah?), that bass! Every track’s bassline is totally unique from the other, easily putting to rest any qualms that “this stuff all sounds the same”. Sometimes it’s a low rumble but other times, like in Fuckaz and Skeng, it roars like some kind of Imperial Star Destroyer engine, with drops that’ll ensnare even the most conservative folk; the dancers that literally wobble to this stuff undoubtedly do so because these low frequencies liquefy bones, turning dancehall punters into masses of jelly.

Of course, no dancehall album is complete without some toasting on the mic, and The Bug has rounded up quite the cast of MCs to complement his tracks. Old standbys like Tippa Irie, Aya, and Ricky Ranking are in as fine of form as ever, but it’s members of the newer cast of dancehall toasters that steal the show. Aggressive chants from Flowdan and Warrior Queen, ominous spoken-word from Killa P, wobbly spitting from Spaceape, and cool crooning from Roger Robinson all combine to make London Zoo as much a showcase for all their individual talents as it is an outlet for Martin’s productions. There’s a sense of urgency in all their voices, as though they realize this is their biggest opportunity to let the world know just how vigorous dancehall MCing can be. They don’t disappoint in this regard.

In case it isn’t clear by now, London Zoo is certainly deserving of the critical praise that’s been handed to it. Even if you’ve never heard of The Bug (a large number of you, I reckon) and these Jamaican influenced sounds have only brought confused glances to your face (a lesser amount of you, I hope), this album should still find its way into your collection. It’s musically fresh, wonderfully paced (strong openers, classy middle, rousing climax), and proves dubstep – in all its forms - remains a genre to keep an ear open for.

King Cannibal - Let The Night Roar (2014 Update)

Ninja Tune: 2009

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.)


It took me some time in finding dubstep I could get behind. There was the dancehall influenced stuff, sure, and also the material Burial put out that was retroactively called ‘post-dubstep’ or ‘future-garage’ or whatever. Yet something straight-forward with the signature half-step beat and wobble basslines? Dear Lord, no! Too much of it struck me as gimmicky nonsense (even before brostep ever got popular), and while I’ll grant my general exposure to it during the late ‘00s wasn’t the best (for the love of God, stop playing those same Benga and Coki tracks over and over), there wasn’t much incentive for me to dig further.

Then I heard King Cannibal’s Flower Of Flesh And Blood. It wasn’t one of those “OMG, EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS GENRE/MUSICIAN IS THE GREATEST THING EVER!” moments – and yes, I have had tons of those over the years. Heck, it wasn’t even one of those “Ah, now I ‘get’ dubstep” moments. I got dubstep quite early on, as it’s a very simple form of music to get in the first place. What this track did, however, was prove to yours truly that dubstep could, in fact, not only be good, but really damn good!

Yeah, yeah, the Hyperdub print kinda-sorta already did that, but I’m talking about the visceral thrills all the bro-steppers were going off on about. Flower Of Flesh And Blood has the same cavernous snare hits, the growling mid-range basslines (though rather similar to jungle tech-step), and an aim squarely at massive crowds. It’s also properly dark and nasty, not like all those try-hard attempts the likes of Excision and Datsik were offering – like the difference between Slayer and …anyone trying to be Slayer.

Maybe it helped that King Cannibal’s debut album wasn’t strictly a dubstep affair, though definitely owing much to the UK bass scene. With emphasis on the grimier aspects of the music than cheap thrills, Let The Night Roar has held up remarkably well while so much other dubstep of the time remains stuck in that era. Good ol’ Ninja Tune, they sure know how to pick ‘em, and if you missed out on this album the first time around, it wouldn’t hurt for you to give it a second chance. Unless, of course, you figure Borgore the height of dubstep sophistication.

And what of Le Cannibale De Roi? He released a Ninja Tune tribute mix the following year, titled The Way Of The Ninja. It features two-hundred fifty tracks from the label within seventy-four minutes of madness. The… fuck…!!? (!) I’m tempted to scope that out, for sure. As for Mr. Dylan Richards, his output dried up following Let The Night Roar. The… double-fuck…!!? (!!) What happened there? Did his Ninja Tune deal end? Is Lord Discogs being dishonest with me? Apparently he released an album called Kill The Lights as House Of Black Lanterns last year on Houndstooth. From what I’ve heard of it, it’s… different, I’ll give it that.

Various - FabricLive 32: Tayo

Fabric: 2007

*cover art brought to you by FabricLive’s ‘ARTIST IN BIG FUCKING LETTERS’ period*

First off, what exactly is the difference between Fabric and FabricLive? Most point to a difference of genre highlighted between the two, the main series sticking to techno, house and the like, while the other one features music of the broken-beat variety. That might have been true from the outset, but as the series has evolved, so too has its selection of DJs, genre specification be damned. Are FabricLive mixes actually mixed live at the club itself or in the studio? Kudos for doing so if that's true, but it seems like a funny gimmick for CDs this day in age.

Oh well. With Tayo's contribution to FabricLive, the vinyl crackle throughout his mix is a clear indication we're dealing with a proper live set. Damn but would I love to hear this one out. I'd never heard of Mr. Popoola before this, a crying shame if number 32 is anything to go by. The Almighty Discogs informs me his turn-of-the-century career was defined by breaks of the nu-skool sort, yet judging by the tracklists of his Y4K series, little of it would have stood out from the pack; or maybe so. There's a definite reggae dub and dancehall influence in Tayo's sound, which is spliff-bliss nectar to my ears no matter what incarnation it comes in. If his other sets offer this bent, I should check them out.

He’s adept at mixing things up throughout a set too. For sure there’s your nu-skool, with familiar names like Bassbin Twins, Aquasky, and Tipper cropping up. This being a 2007 mix though, the influence of grimey UK garage is also felt; and yes, there’s dubstep here, but it’s good dubstep. This was when the sound was blowing up with crazy amounts of potential and diversity, and what Tayo brings to 32 would have made even the most ardent doubter weak in the knees. Example? How about the transition between More Than Money from Sarantis and Warrior Queen into Skream’s Lightning? Those sorts of moments, mang, gave dubstep all the thrills and excitement missing from so much other electronic music of the time.

Of course, it helps to have a competent DJ creating such moments, and Tayo’s set is superb for his chosen sound. Momentum is continuously maintained, with expertly placed lulls for your breathers before coming back fiercer than before. There’s enough genre diversity to keep the music fresh and varied throughout, and plenty of memorable anthems you’ll be anxious to hear play out again.

Was This Worth The Pennies Paid For It?
Fuck yeah, it was! Admittedly I’m biased towards reggae dub, but Tayo’s set is so much fun, only a right dullard couldn’t vibe to this. I’m actually dismayed someone offloaded this CD for such a pittance. Is it because the cardboard is lightly frayed? Neverland skips when played straight from the disc (no problems came up with the rip)? Whatever, their loss.