New Order - Complete Music

Mute: 2016

I made a bold claim in declaring this 'remix' album New Order's best body of work outside of 'Best Of' packages, and now I get to show my receipts. Actually, no, I don't think I can, at least without bringing up the context that led to the album this sprung from, Music Complete. And that would eat up way too much word count that I'd rather spend detailing the tunes here. Besides, as my purchase of Complete Music included a free download of Music Complete, it'll at least leave me something to ramble on about whenever I get around to that record.

And the honest truth is, had my 'Surveying' stipulation not forced me to check out Complete Music, I may not have in the first place (or much of New Order in general, but stick with me). Yeah, there's been some ace remixes handed out to New Order's catalogue over the decades, but this was an entirely in-house project, simply taking the existing songs and extending them for maximum dancefloor efficiency. Hey, that's great, as I already liked the clubby nature of the originals, so more of that isn't so bad. A little more rhythmic intro here, a lengthier bridge there, and holy cow, these seven-to-nine minute versions are just so much better! I don't think I can even go back to the Music Complete variants, coming off like radio edits now. It almost makes me wonder if these were the finished songs, but in realizing it'd balloon the album to double-LP length, were forced to pare things down for commercial interests, rendering Complete Music to 'Director's Cut' side-project status. Probably not, but it's a fun notion if so.

So Restless comes in with all those peppy rhythms, hooky guitars (but no Peter Hook, he gone), emotional string swells, and synthy punctuations. And then, some two minutes in, Bernard comes in, and if this track hasn't fully won you over, then I don't know how you've been a New Order fan. Right, it's not Blue Monday, but hardly anything else in their catalogue is.

This is the sound of a band that's been through it all, having the skill to incorporate all their learned influences, and still find room to add some (then) contemporary tricks. A festival-ready breakdown in Singularity. A festival-ready build in Unlearn This Hatred. A little d'n'b momentum in Stray Dog (complete with a gravely Iggy Pop) and Superheated, and so on. Nor have they side-stepped other eras of their career, like the NRG pulse of Plastic or synth-pop campiness of Tutti Frutti (a song I dreaded going in based on title alone, winning me over regardless), both vintage '80s without sounding canned or retro-trendy. Or jubilant '90s funky piano house vibes of People On The High Line. Or the '00s indie rock janglyness of Nothing But A Fool and The Game. It's a little bit of everything you know of New Order and then some.

And then performed extra length, just because they can!

Sykonee's 'Sportsing' Surveys: STEREOLAB

Some bands seem to exist just on the periphery of one's attention forever. A name you know you've seen many times, occassionally in association with some other artist you're fond of, or misattribute to a different act due to similarities. You may go decades never hearing a single song from them, or heard dozens without realizing it was them all along. In ye' olden days, the only way to get confirmation one way or the other was to scour the music shops, looking for any hints or clues that might trigger some memory synapses, spurring you further into actually listening to their catalogue, should the means and wants perfectly align. However, when I finally found out it was Cappella that was behind the line-up roll-call of the '90s Houson Rockets, I was disappointed to learn they didn't release much at all. Oh, and Stereolab is another such band, but at least they've released a whole lot more!

Primarily helmed by Tim Gane and Lætitia Sadier, the band has seen many members rotate in and out (including an unfortunate death), mostly serving whatever musical angle they wish to explore. And explore many they have indeed, carving out a lane in the nascent '90s scene of lo-fi indie rock and electro pop. At least, that's what I assumed going in, but that's barely scratching the surface. With nearly two decades worth of music making, they had plenty of time dabbling in whatever floated their fancy. Didn't know if it'd make for a good 'sportsing' soundtrack, but I've been pleasently surprised before. So let's dive in.










This was a bit of a weird one for me. I can't say I disliked anything I heard, but nor was I inspired to buy up a bunch of Stereolab records for personal use either. Which is a bit of a shame, because this is a band that needs more than one listen for their music to truly sink in, not the sort that can be shrugged off as 'one-and-done', as most acts in these surveying exercises are. I feel like I owe it to them to at least pick up Dots And Loops, since that album was kinda' the catalyst in all this, but that feels I'm doing them a disservice settling on just one. Ah well, there's plenty of time to continue mulling it over - it's not like their catalogue is going anywhere, right?

Anyhow, now that we're coming upon the one-year anniversary of this little gimmick (and of me getting back into shape ...holy cow!), I figure it's time to take on a talent that I've long included in Mastodon polls for surveys, but for some reason has always brought up the rear: Tipper!

SadGirl - Water

Suicide Squeeze: 2019

”So [Vol. 3 – Head To The Mountains] wasn't what I expected or hoped for, not really convincing me SadGirl was actually a contemporary surf rock band. And yet, I still went and ordered their debut album, Water. Go figure.”

Flash forward nearly four years later, and here I am, finally reviewing the darn thing! If you ever wanted an idea of how backed up my queue has gotten, that's as good an indicator as any. I'm starting to wonder if I should even bother with the alphabetical stipulation at all. Like, it was a handy bit of organization when I was initially going through my original music collection, a definitive end-point to work towards. Now that that's done and dusted, however, what real need for it is there? Legacy? Maintaining a gimmick well past its usefulness? What I'm getting at is, for all practical purposes, shouldn't I now review items I get as I get them, rather than let them languish in a 'To-Review' pile for years, long after their 'hot on the streets' drop dates have cooled? Mind, if I was doing that, I'd probably still be going through all those goa trance CDs I bought earlier this year. Yeah, maybe let's keep things as are for now...

Anyhow, SadGirl. The band was tapped by Bandcamp as one of the nu-surf scene's ascendant acts, and at the time, they certainly seemed primed as such. A run of solid singles with eye-popping artwork, a debut album primed for launch... What could go wrong? Oh, yeah, that whole pandemic thing. That would stall any musical career dependent upon live shows for sustainability, and it seems SadGirl stalled indeed, nothing new released for a couple years now. Maybe they'll reconvene for a comeback, but as it stands, Water remains their lone LP.

They don't waste any time letting you know you're in for 'life's a beach' vibes either. Opener The Ocean immediately drops you into a lazy, hazy, dreamy bit of echo-drenched croon, organs swaying and electric guitars sliding. Follow-up Chlorine gets more into the cabaret side of classic rockabilly, while instrumental Hazelnut Coffee may have your Khruangbin triggers flaring. If you have any Khruangbin triggers to flare in the first place, that is. Y'know, the sort of easy-peasy tiki lounge jam music best enjoyed while laying in a hammock, frilly drink in hand.

Water mostly flits about such songs for its duration, unashamed in its ultra-retro aesthetic, never upping the tempo to more than a lukewarm simmer. I guess that doesn't really make it a proper surf rock album, even though you can't help but be reminded of endless waves as the sun sets below the distant ocean horizon. Forever remembering those loves lost, drifting somewhere out at sea while you remain landlocked and moribund. Oh yeah, the metaphors on this album are rather blunt and obvious, but hey, it is a surf record, a genre of music that was seldom ever subtle in execution.

Gorillaz - Song Machine, Season One: Strange Timez (Proper Review)

Parlaphone: 2020

Strange days indeed. The global pandemic almost may have benefited the Gorillaz project, at least with regards to the Song Machine cycle. Being forced to strip back all the indulgent studio time and guest collaborators made this album a far leaner outing than the bloated Humanz. Even better, with no pressure to go on tour in support of a new record in the foreseeable future, Damon and Jamie could primarily focus on other multi-media aspects of the band, in particular music video and animations.

Because let's face it: for as much as we enjoy Gorillaz music, it's the videos and such that truly grab our imagination. Trouble is animation is expensive, and with more money being allotted for studio production and tours, this aspect of the project sometimes gets shuffled to the side-line. Again, just look at the Humanz roll-out for proof, only one video of significant note released in support of that record.

In treating Song Machine as an episodic venture, however, you were basically guaranteed a video with each song this time out. Whether an elaborate 'lore' builder with The Lost Chord, a simple loop session with Aries, or 'Roger Rabbit'ing their way about Kong Studio with guest musicians (Momentary Bliss, Pac-Man), it definitely felt like you were getting your dollar's worth. Oh, wait, watching the vids was free on YouTube. Erm, I mean, it definitely felt like you were getting rewarded for sticking with this fickle project even during the less-than-great times.

And even with all that, holy Hell, but does Song Machine ever come loaded with ear-worms! You could always count on a number of them per album, but even the best Gorillaz records will have a few tunes that could be left aside. Not so here, every song a winner. Well, okay, I could maybe leave Friday 13th off, but that's more because I'm not much a fan of mumble rappers, and Octavian doesn't do much to convince me otherwise. At least The Pink Phantom has Elton John's big, boisterous voice on hand to counter 6LACK's mumbling. Everything else though – from rowdy rockers (Strange Timez, Momentary Bliss, The Valley Of The Pagans) to electro boppers (Pac-Man) to soulful poppers (The Lost Chord, Désolé, Dead Butterflies), and all else between, Song Machine's got all you could want from a Gorillaz album.

It's funny though, because there's a hint Song Machine could have had some of the same issues as Humanz. The bonus disc includes half a dozen nifty tunes, mostly on the hip-hop side of things, but definitely don't quite fit the vibe of the main album. Which is how bonus tracks should be treated, the b-sides that are here for your enjoyment without sullying the flow of the main feature. Somehow though, I sense had this been Humanz-era Gorillaz, they would have tried to force them in, once again bloating an album beyond what was necessary. Song Machine is perfectly paced at its eleven tracks, once again showing smart restraint in the final product.

Gorillaz - Song Machine, Season One: Strange Timez (Kayfabe Review)

Parlaphone: 2020

Last time I talked up Gorillaz, I lamented we'd never seen a truly collaborative effort from this group. Yeah, they've all been present for a number of albums (their self-titled debut, Demon Days ...Humanz, if only barely), but generally speaking, one or two members are the driving force behind a given record, leaving the others to simply contribute their requisite parts in support. No, what I wanted to hear is a Gorillaz album where everyone - 2-D, Noodle, Russel, and yes, Murdoc – all have equal share in the writing process. Given the chaotic nature of this band, it seemed it'd take nothing less than an Act Of God for such a thing to happen. Or, in a pinch, a global pandemic.

Details are hazy what the initial ideas for Song Machine were going to be – something to do with a music device Noodle acquired. Regardless, the lockdowns in the following year essentially isolated the band within the new Kong Studio. Never mind their corporeal nature likely wouldn't be an issue in dealing with meat-space viruses, they stood in solidarity with society at large.

With nothing better to do than hang out together making music, that's basically all they did. No ideas for a specific album concept or contractual obligation, just jam away and see what sprung forth in a given session. That isn't to say some didn't have other things on their mind while holed up at Kong – you just know Murdoc would look for any opportunity to get out of house, especially having just gotten out of prison the previous year. Overall though, Song Machine, Season One: Strange Timez is possibly the band's most satisfying album in... gosh, a decade? However long it's been since Plastic Beach, at least.

Again, it's all about bringing every member's influences and interests under one big tent. Gorillaz have always been adventurous in their genre fusions, but you can generally tell who's doing the most production in a given project. 2-D likes his electro pop, Russel likes his American hip-hop, house, and soul, Noodle likes her esoteric indulgences, while Murdoc likes his punk and bass-driven rock. Indeed, there are songs on here you can tell who's influence is felt. Peter Hook on Aries? Oh, that's gotta' be a Murdoc get. ScHoolboy Q on Pac-Man? Russel, absolutely. Beck on The Valley Of The Pagans? Seems like the sort of musician Noodle would have on dial. And of course Elton John and Stuart Pot have talked collab' at some point.

Yet as mentioned, no one song feels like someone's taking a back seat in the writing process, everyone part and parcel in some way. Maybe that's why, for the first time in Gorillaz history, the album's unofficial song-writing credits goes to 'Gorillaz'.

According to lore, Murdoc and Russel did Humanz and the self-titled, Noodle did Demon Days, Mr. Niccals did Plastic Beach, while 2-D did The Fall and The Now Now. Song Machine though? Everyone! And it's all the greater for it.

La Luz - Floating Features

Hardly Art: 2018

And so we come to a conclusion in my little excursion into the world of surf rock. As my music collection currently stands, I've no more items waiting in the never-ending queue, and it's appropriate La Luz brings things to a finale. They were the first band introducing me in my initial wanderings into 'nu-surf', and with the dust all settled, remain my favourite of all my samplings. Just a shame the band's been stuck on hiatus these past few years.

Of course, it's not their fault, the 2020 Pandemic putting a halt on the careers of many musicians. Small, underground artists especially felt the crunch, and while band leader Shana Cleveland did release a solo folk album in the interim, one hopes this forced interlude hasn't put a permanent mothballing of Lu Luz. There's only so many 'retro dream pop by way of contemporary surf rock' all-women bands out there.

More so, their last album was showing some growth in musicianship, leading to potentially fascinating avenues in the future. I've mentioned before the band's version of surf rock wasn't really what you'd think of traditional, in that their aesthetic didn't always reflect southern California vibes. For sure there's the dream pop attributes, but location more often than not influences art, and La Luz' Pacifc northwest heritage could not be ignored (erm, especially if you're intimately familiar with the lands). With Floating Features, the band looked to shake off some of that greytone, fully embracing the summery Cali sound, with a sprinkle of psychedelia.

You can just feel it from the opening few tracks on the album, things just a little on edge even as the production is more expansive than ever. The titular instrumental opener is big and strident, letting you know you're in for an adventure in sun-baked clime's rather than insular coastal forests, while follow-up Cicada quickens the pace some, sparing no space in the reverb. Loose Teeth gets fuzzier and full of guitar grit, and Mean Dream... Well, it sounds more like traditional mellow La Luz, but the music video certainly dips deep into retro substance shenanigans. Blacklights will never grow old.

Much of Floating Features carries on various dream rock vibes, Lonely Dozer and Don't Leave Me On The Earth the only other times things get 'surfy'. It's honestly hard pegging this album as surf rock though, as the reverb is much more vast than the frenetic shredding of the genre could allow. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if some folks get turned off by the grand sonics on display. It's certainly far removed from the basic garage production of earlier La Luz, but the song-writing is still top notch.

Whether we'll get another La Luz album remains to be seen. There were some personnel changes before everything was put on hold, but I can't imagine this being a final outing. Shana Cleveland seems far too motivated to end a band just because a global virus stalled momentum.

La Luz - Weirdo Shrine

Hardly Art: 2015

Just how '60s retro did La Luz intend to initially go anyway? For sure you had the dreamy, psychedelic pop overtures and the surf rock nods, but the band's debut album didn't completely sell you on being there, in the era of mini-skirts and beehive hairdos. Which is understandable, La Luz undoubtedly concerned they'd seem more of a gimmick if they went all The B-52's with their presentation. They were already battling assumptions being an all-girl band to begin with. The indie rock scene is already a difficult one to crack with that feature over-hanging, so no need to complicating matters with pageantry. Get in, establish your stylee, then expand if the results turn successful.

I guess that's why I feel like La Luz' sophomore effort, Weirdo Shrine, hits so many similar beats as their debut, It's Alive, but does it all better. These gals are more assured of what their music can be, tighter as a unit, fully embracing the dream-surf rock jams such that they sound more attuned to the decade they're drawing influence from. It's to such a point that they even included chintzy 3-D glasses into the package, with art that pops at you from the second dimension! Well, kinda'. I don't think these glasses fit my face too good, seemingly made for petite ladies. Like, the little doggo figurine in the assemblage of knickknacks forming the inlay's weirdo shrine looks well removed from the pile, but not much else. To say nothing of the lack of depth from the hands playing cat's cradle on the cover. Maybe it works better with the larger vinyl canvas.

Anyhow, Weirdo Shrine opens with the dream pop of Sleep Till They Die as felt being sunkissed by California shores, then kicks out the surf jam right after with You Disappear. Okay, not a 'pure' surf jam, since this is still an actual song with actual lyrics and stuff, but its hard not to feel the waves beneath your plank of fibreglass as the splashy guitar reverb hits when it kicks off. And speaking of reverb, is it just me, or do the vocals sound more airy as well? Like, everything just has a richer texture about it, my ears breathing in the resonance as guitars and drums and organs sound both up front and distant as a canyon's walls.

It feels weird(o) to say this next: I'm not sure if there's anything else I can say about Weirdo Shrine. Detail all eleven tracks by track? So, Don't Wanna Be Anywhere does that Khruangbin loungey thing. I Can't Speak and I'll Be True slow things down, while I Wanna Be Alone and the titular song pep things up. Hey Papi and Oranges are the token instrumentals, while True Love Knows is the sort of ballad you can imagine swaying back and forth with your sweetie in your arms, as the malt shop nears closing. Mush, but eh, I'm sure I'll be able to relate again, one of these days.

Buttertones - Midnight In A Moonless Dream

Innovative Leisure Records: 2018

There's no dodging this, so I'll just get it out of the way: as of two months ago, this band was #metoo'd. Not all the members, just a couple, being outed as womanizing creeps, one in particular having a preference for those who weren't even legal age of consent. I only found out about this as I started my preliminary research right after my last review. I never knew about this when I got this album over a year ago. Almost no one knew, the allegations and confirmed shared stories getting aired out just this summer. The fall of Buttertones was swift and complete, however, their social media presence utterly scrubbed from the internet, their label dropping them like a ten tonne rock, the remaining band members forced to scuttle the project. A token 'all future album purchases goes towards women help charities' is the only thing keeping their Bandcamp page afloat.

Obviously, that puts a huge damper on whatever thoughts and opinions I had going into Midnight In A Moonless Dream. All the mental notes I'd gathered seem inconsequential and pointless now. Talking about how my explorations of 'surf rock' bands straying so far off the beaten path, that I'm listening to a band that sounds more like a cabaret quintet than a group for beach bums. Wow, what a wonderful discovery (thanks, Bandcamp newsletter)! What does that matter when it's giving abusive assholes attention though? The music's great, fantastic even, but I feel ultra-icky praising it.

The ol' 'separating art from artist' topic naturally comes up, which everyone has their own take on. While some are absolute in their perspectives, I'm a little more flexible, in a 'time plus distance' sort of way. The further you get from certain art being created during which its artist was being an asshole, the easier it is to separate the two, especially if said artist no longer benefits from the art they created (dying helps). Again, this is no hard or fast rule, but it does allow me to enjoy things like Michael Jackson's Thriller or the symphonic suites of Koichi Sugiyama with peace of mind. Some things are almost impossible to let go though, like watching a Chris Benoit wrestling match – no matter how 'lost in the moment' I can get with bouts two decades old, that knowledge of him murder-suiciding his family forever looms overhead.

I honestly feel fortunate that the bulk of my musical interests haven't been revealed as individuals deserving of cancellation, selfish though that sounds. I'm sure there are a few with skeletons in their closet that could still be unearthed, but hopefully nothing to the extent as has been going on with other producers in recent years, especially in the local festival scene. Buttertones? No great loss on my part, as they were a band I only came across by happenstance. I may be able to play this album again with time and distance, but as of now... yeah.

Tijuana Panthers - Max Baker

Innovative Leisure Records: 2010/2015

It was bound to happen sooner than later. As much as you'll find throwbacks and homages to the genre throughout the decades, surf rock is just too niche a style for any modern band to make hay playing only that genre. Heck, it was lucrative for a mere half-decade to begin with, and while five years in '60s time is, like, eleven years in modern time (somehow), it's so intimately tied to a specific setting that a lasting rebirth simply can't happen again. Even Bandcamp, the last refuge for any band or musician who just don't give an f' so long as their craft is out there, freely admitted that its surf rock recommendations quickly disintegrate into indie pop or garage rock standards, some included bands barely touching the vintage shredding instrumentals with splashy reverb.

Tijuana Panthers fall into this category, a three-piece band having far more in common with Violent Femmes than anything Dick Dale turned out. On the other hand, their lyrical content sure brings to mind the simpler antics of teenagers hanging out at malt shoppes than all d'at angst of later generations. Never before has getting a crew cut sounded so daring and rebellious! No, wait, wasn't getting a crew cut the norm of ye golden oldies days? Like, having a mop-top hair-do, or something as scandalous as side-burns, those were the styles that gave young women their sexual awakenings. So is proudly proclaiming you're getting a crew cut an act of preppy defiance, or are Tijuana Panthers just playing up the stereo-type in a modern era? So much contemplation for a song that has a chorus of “I gotta crew cut baby; I gotta crew cut baby; I gotta crew cut baby; I gotta crew cut baby.”

Still, as a band that hails from Long Beach, Tijuana Panthers do bring a 'carefree fun in the sun' vibe to their music (including the song Summer Fun), which was aesthetically part and parcel to surf rock as the shredding and reverb ever was. The Beach Boys continuum, if you will, and this debut album of theirs is brimful of the stuff. Tunes like New Boots, Red Headed Girl, Two Step, and Angie will transplant you to the era of mini-skirts and little deuce coups no problem. If you want something a more 'rebellious' and rockin', however, how about rabble-rousers like This Town, and Girls Gone Wild. And yes, a couple songs do get more proper-surf (for lack of a better term), the aforementioned Summer Fun almost entirely a reverb-heavy instrumental, while Prayer Knees meets things in the middle.

Was Max Baker the sort of album I was after, then? Not really, but I do enjoy it for the time it plays. As mentioned, finding bands who specifically play the specific style of surf I like is a nigh impossible task. If my explorations cross paths with those who dabble though, who am I to complain? Beggers can't be choosers, and all that rot.

La Luz - It's Alive

Hardly Art: 2013

That there would be modern bands making early '60 rock music isn't surprising. They've been doing that since the '80s. But while the surfer style has received minor bumps of recognition over the decades (thanks, The B-52's and Quentin Tarantino), it's never seen anything close to a real revival, forever remaining this quirky niche thing. Still, I'd totally expect a band or three to have their stabs at it, and Bandcamp has proven it to be so. What I hadn't counted on was one of those bands – indeed, one of the highest rated ones – would be an all-girl group called La Luz.

And I know that comes off completely sexist on my part, because I honestly did not even consider this could be a thing. A lady or two in a band, sure, no problem, but for whatever reason (one of its originator's being named Dick?), surf rock has forever remained an extremely male-dominated genre of music. What's great about La Luz, though, is they don't come off like a gimmick in the slightest. Yeah, they're a unique quartet in a relatively obscure music scene, but that's just circumstantial. No one would have bat and eye if they'd gone punk or country instead (well, fewer). It just so happened they were into making these kinds of tunes, and the world of dreamy surf jams is all the more richer for it.

I suppose you could say La Luz isn't a strict surf rock band either, blending somewhat into that nebulous indie dream pop world. The vocal harmonies are certainly there, and I'm sometimes reminded of Khruangbin when they slow the tempo down some. And Khruangbin has that 'lazy times in beach-fronted tiki lounges' vibe going for them, which is surf adjacent, right? Gotta' relax after hitting those waves, dude.

Anyhow, that's beside the point. La Luz has a drummer, a bassist, an organier, and a guitar lead with that distinctive 'splashy' reverb you can't help but think of when surf rock comes to mind. Some light shredding too, though obviously nothing to the level of Dick Dale. Nor is there any need for Shana Cleveland to go there, her guitar strums fun and jammy when called upon, while Alice Sandahl gets occasional turns for solos on the organ too. It's Alive breezes by at eleven songs long, flitting between the peppy upbeat rockers and dreamy downtempo ballads. It may be surf rock with modern indie rock overtones, but it still feeds that need of mine to hear-

No, I can't hide it any longer. There's another reason I dig the La Luz style, something entirely geographical. See, they hail from Seattle, which has somehow imparted a rather... foggy aesthetic, I want to say? Like, surf rock typically has a very sunny, southern California feel to it, but listening to this, I imagine the waves of Tofino instead, surrounded my misty mountains overgrown with thick rainforests. Such an easy sell for a West Coast lad like myself, that.

Frou Frou - Details

MCA Records: 2002

(a Patreon Request)

Like 97% of the world, I've only really known Imogen Heap via memes. Absolutely she has fans that extend beyond those hearing her synthesized croon as some helpless schlub is ironically shot in slow motion. Some of them even existed before Hide And Seek became her defining work. The amount of buzz that single generated for her career cannot be denied though, going from a non-charting oddity to Top 5 selling artist in America. Even Zach Braff including her Frou Frou track Let Go didn't accomplish that!

Right, to call this a strict Imogen project would do Guy Sigsworth a great injustice. Yeah, that's her voice on all the songs, and her glamming it up like she's about to go shopping Madison Avenue on the cover art, but Frou Frou was initially the brain-birth of Mr. Sigsworth. He'd participated in a few mildly successful UK bands in the '90s, but truly made a name for himself lending his production talents to the likes of Seal, Madonna, and Björk. He also crossed paths with a young lass with a quirky name, and helped produce her debut single called Getting Scared. I cannot deny it's weird seeing Ms. Heap as a raver-goth grrl in that video, given the future her career would take.

Anyhow, itching to make a proper album of his own, Guy set out to do just that, working under the project handle of Frou Frou. Realizing he needed a little female vocal talent to give his songs that extra bit of class, he got in touch with Imogen again for a contributing lyric or two. She soon became so involved with the creative process that they decided to make the whole Frou Frou gig a collaborative process. And thus Details came forth to much... mm, no, 'aplomb' isn't the right word. It did okay, from what I can tell (I recall Breathe In being rather popular on the radio for a spell), but it didn't light the UK on fire either. Still, those college kids in America seemed to like it, enough for a lengthy tour there.

I can hear why this album was popular with such a particular demographic – this totally makes sense hearing out at coffee shops or sorority parties. Guy definitely knows his way around a studio, expertly blending multitudes of instruments and musical styles into an indie-pop soup such that Details defies easy genre classification (my WMP suggests New Wave; capital attempt, ol' chap). To my ears though, that studio expertise flattens my enjoyment out of this album. The music within is just a tad too slick and polished, such that it kinda' fades to the background of my attention after a few tracks (the delightfully twee Maddening Shroud notwithstanding). As for Imogen, she sounds fine, I guess, certainly an integral part of the Frou Frou package. The chorus to Breathe In aside, however, nothing here eclipses Hide And Seek. And how could it, the latter a fixture of late '00s meme culture?

Various - Back To Mine: The Orb

DMC: 2003

Sure is a nice coincidence that the alphabetical order of my Back To Mine CDs is also in chronological order.

Folks who came around to the series later in its run may have noticed something different about the first couple I've covered. Indeed, when DMC launched Back To Mine, the cover art wasn't too distinctive from many other DJ-featuring compilations out there. Sure, Warren and Seaman were lounging in comfy chairs, while Tenaglia and Armada had cute little lights, but it still felt run-of-the-mill where chill-out CDs were concerned.

Following Faithless' entry, however, DMC commissioned illustrator Tommy Penton to shake things up, giving Back To Mine its distinct, abstract comic look for many years after; I hated that look. Yeah, it was unique, which undoubtedly helped it stand out from overcrowded compilation racks, but gads, the artwork reminds me of bad lucid dreams, not at all feelings of being chill. Whatever happened to the soft, inviting mood lighting?

So I wasn't too keen on picking up more Back To Mines with the art change. Compounding things further was the fact Ultra Records lost the domestic distribution rights after the seventh (Morcheeba's, for the record), leaving DMC to handle it themselves. They... weren't very efficient at it, leading to few copies, if any, found on my local store shelves. And whenever one did happen by at those slightly inflated prices, always was I met with that butt-ugly cover art. You understand why I let the series pass me by, then.

Still, when I heard The Orb had been tapped to head up a Back To Mine, I knew I had to get my hands on that! The O.G. chill-out maestros, who's early sets were well known for unearthing all sorts of weird, blissy records of yesteryear, compiling a CD that's right up their lane? How could this fail? It could not, is how! No, Muzik Magazine and their middling 2/5 score had to be wrong. It... had to be good...!

Back To Mine was primarily billed as showing off one's personal collections, and you'd think chaps like Dr. Alex Paterson and Thomas Fehlmann would have ludicrously deep crates to pull music from. And maybe compared to typical punters of the U.K., that's true, but I was stunned that I already had so many of these tracks in my own collection. Two Aphex Twin cuts, yep. Julee Cruise's go with Falling (aka: the Twin Peaks theme), uh huh. And why on Earth is Juno Reactor's Nitrogen Part 1 on here, and at the third position no less? Okay, Alex helped produce that, but no way does it fit as a 'chill-out' option.

The remaining selections are definitely an eclectic sort of stoner chill and indie-techno, but lacks much of a unifying theme to them. It's as though The Orb rounded up a pile of tracks they happened to like that given month, arranged them in alphabetical order, and called it a day. Who'd want to listen to something like that?

Ringo Sheena - Shōso Strip

Virgin: 2000

(a Patreon Request from Philoi)

I think we all have to come to grips that I'm woefully unqualified to talk about Japanese pop music with any sort of authoritative perspective. Yeah, I can appreciate, and even enjoy it, at a basic, superficial aesthetic level (sounds do good things on brain, me likey!), but I've no real insights or analysis to provide from the experience. Beyond what a couple Wiki links of information can offer (y'know, collegiate level research), there's very little I can explore or detail regarding the cultural impact of such music.

Like, I can get proper-deep regarding rave music, as I've been part of, digested, consumed, and researched nearly all facets of it for a quarter of a century now (a significant portion of my life indeed). And while I've covered other music genres or scenes I'm not so involved with (your alternative rock, your jazz-bop, your country twang), they're at least still prevalent enough in my sphere of the globe that I know enough about them via cultural osmosis. It's incredibly rare that mass market music from other (non English-speaking) artists ever had much impact here, no matter how successful they may have been elsewhere.

It's almost entirely thanks to the power of global social media that we've started seeing actual cultural cross-over in the Americas from the mega-stars of Japan and Korea. Even as I type this, my localized Twitter feed is blowing up about Wonho leaving MONSTA X (everything else is Halloween stuff). Let's face it, a newer, younger generation has discovered something they know their parents just won't understand. What better rebel music than music that's not even Caucasian, amirite? Nah, guy, there's just a lot of East Asian transplants in Vancouver.

Anyhow, Ringo Sheena (or Shiina Ringo, if you're Discoggian) turned quite a few heads upon her debut, a teenage wonder-kid who fused noisy Western rock with noisy Japanese rock, presented in that spiffy, over-the-top j-pop stylee everyone just thinks all Japanese pop music sounds like. Sales proved her a potential break-out star that could possibly make it big overseas, thus was immediately signed to the mighty Virgin empire, the quick follow-up Shōso Strip the result.

Almost too quickly, apparently, as the budding star felt the tracklist was too similar to her debut. I can dig that, as I felt like I was listening to Muzai Moratorium all over again with this one. Yeah, there's a few additional wrinkles here and there (ooh, techno thump-thumps in 浴室) and the song-writing comes off more polished than the first – the chaotic production is focused and targeted. Yet I still had to double-check I was listening to the correct album a couple times, unsure whether it was the first or second (didn't help my digital player couldn't convert kanji properly).

And sadly, I can't give any deeper analysis than that. As mentioned, I simply don't connect to this music beyond the superficial. Y'all would be better served listening to the Spotify link for your own conclusions.

Phantogram - Voices

Indica: 2014

(a Discography Patreon Request from Omskbird)

I may have oversold my enthusiasm for the Nightlife mini-album. Maybe for Phantogram too? I don't dislike anything I've heard, and find their music worming its way into my brain the more I listen to it, but I can't say I want to re-listen to it. They fall into that nebulous blob of genre interest I think of as the 'This Is Fine' bubble – where every critic's 6/10 records reside. Not that I'd give this such a ranking myself (and even if I did, probably a little higher), but as my music collection balloons and grows, things get lost in the shuffle, including the Random Shuffle feature on my PC. So many songs to 'randomly' choose from, yet it never, ever lands on Fu-Schnickens' Sneakin' Up On Ya? What's up with that? Erm, what I'm getting at is, if Spotify Discovery was to discover me some Phantogram, I'd enjoy it, but wouldn't go out of my way to explore their discography further.

Anyhow, we've flash-jumped a few years, and our intrepid Sarah & Josh duo have hit the big-time, in a low-key sort of way. Tons of tours, tons of festivals. Tons of appearances on late night talk shows (so many Jimmy Fallon performances, just... so many). Tons of nods and approvals within their scene (opening for genre icons M83 couldn't have hurt) and from players outside looking in (yes, Big Boi had taken a liking to them by now). You'd almost think they were half a dozen albums deep into their career with this much promotion behind them, and yet Voices is only their second LP, released half a decade after their first. Dang, dawg and dawgette, you gotta' get into that studio and start cranking out some more music stat, lest your set playlist grow old and stale. Maybe get a major label backing your efforts in the process, for that little extra exposure, really go for the 'pop' in the synth-pop.

I feel like I should like this more. The songcraft is more refined, the production is top-grade, and there's plenty of moments that leap out at me as it plays through. The crunchy guitar action in Nothing But Trouble. The buzzy, punchy bassline in Fall In Love. The percussion in Howling At The Moon (yeah, there's trap snares in there, but oh so much more too). Josh Carter's one-the-nose Peter Gabriel wailing in Never Going Home (whole track sounds like a Peter Gabriel tune, for that matter). There's a few moments that strike me as odd choices, like that same buzzy bassline used in the dream pop of Bill Murray - how can I feel bliss and chill with a sputtering transistor in the background? - but it's hardly detrimental to the album as a whole.

Yet, Voices doesn't grab me the way Eyelid Movies did. It's like, in perfecting their genre fusion, it's turned their neapolitan style into a strict vanilla flavour. But one of those good vanilla flavours, like vanilla bean, or dame blanche.

Phantogram - Nightlife

Bursak Records: 2011

(a Discography Patreon Request from Omskbird)

The debut album's out, the buzz is building, but all that touring is impacting your ability to hop into the studio for another full-length session. Fortunately, the good ol' mini-album option has become quite fruitful in the modern era, a handful of songs all that's needed to be propelled into super-stardom. Why, look at that Skrillex kid, one of the biggest acts of 2011, based almost entirely off a single EP. If he can do it, why not Phantogram? Oh, that whole 'completely different genre and scene' factor, I guess. Yeah, Josh Carter and Sarah Barthel definitely make music of a different style compared to headline festival mosh. I sure didn't hear anything resembling overblown anthems in Eyelid Movies, nothing even hinting at such potential. Guess they'll stay in their lane, the steady rise of synth-pop songcraft within a nurturing indie scene bringing them the fame their later sales numbers indicate. Have I mentioned looking only at Wiki sales charts isn't a good idea to get a full story of a band's development?

The other good thing about making a mini-album is how it keeps things to the point. Eyelid Movies had plenty of good musical ideas about it, but was kinda' rambly in its direction too, one of those LPs where the musicians tend to throw everything at the wall. Such is the case with many debut albums though, muses bursting at the seems to flood out for all to hear. Typically a producer can reign things in, but Phantogram apparently did it all themselves, so here we are. Time to focus your ideas into with surgical precision, then, using what you've learned and build upon it.

Nightlife definitely is that, to such a degree I almost wish this had been longer, exploring these musical ideas and themes for a proper full-length. Sure, the concept is straight-forward enough, one of those inside-out looks at the self-destructive romanticism of hitting up bars and clubs when you're young. I'm sure touring about exposed Sarah and Josh to all manner of ups and downs within their scene, the decadent highs and the dilapidated lows. It's not a specific narrative, mind you, but it does capture the roller coaster of feelings in a night out with an always lingering, nagging doubt of whether your actions mean anything at all. Or maybe I'm reading a bit much into it, but hey, sometimes over-analyzing music half the fun of listening to music. Like, it's practically a mission statement from all those Pitchfork wanna-be clones that existed a decade ago. This is catnip for them! The indie-leaning genre fusion too.

Oh, and of that genre fusion? Yeah, it's still on that synthy indie-rock, dream-pop vein, though less of the wilder leaps into things like funk and soul and whatnot from Eyelid Movies. Again, smaller record, less room to let the muses roam free. Makes for a nice, tight listening experience though, leaving the listener anxious for more. All hail the mini-album, for those who don't have time for artistic bullshit!

Phantogram - Eyelid Movies

Indica Records: 2009

(a Discography Patreon Request from Omskbird)

I didn't know what to expect when I put Discography Reviews up as an option for Patreon Requests. Most likely an obligatory opportunity to fill out some glaring gaps in my own music collection, but just as easily a chance for y'all to expose an act or artist that needed some extra shine in the limelight. I've yet to discern where Phantogram falls on that spectrum. I can't claim I was familiar with the duo prior, but a brief glance through their Wiki indicates they've seen their fair share of activity within the upper echelons of indie-leaning synth-pop stardom. Not top tier, but enough presence to do respectable numbers on sales charts with songs featured in a variety of soundtracks. A nod from Big Boi likely didn't hurt.

They had to start somewhere though, and Eyelid Movies is that start. I'm not so sure I'd call it a breakout, since it didn't land them all the crossover attention they seem to have garnered in the past decade, but it's as solid a debut an act with almost no prior exposure could have hoped for. It establishes a sound unique enough to stand out in an over-crowded indie synth-pop market, but retains enough style and sounds of that scene that can lure in potential curious passer-byes in the rotation of playlists and radio streams.

Of course, my frame of reference in indie synth-pop is woefully small, undoubtedly a huge number of acts others could namedrop that Phantogram are comparable to. It's probably a real sad thing the strongest comparison I can make is Gorillaz, in that I hear a lot of the same genre-fusion going on from track to track in this album (oh man, does As Far As I Can See ever remind me of Plastic Beach-era Gorillaz). Heck, Josh Carter even has a similar croon Damon Albarn 2D's, and shows no qualms in feeding his voice through different effects for that authentic dream pop/digital funk feel. Sarah Barthel's no slouch on the pipes either.

And genre fusion? Oh yeah, there's plenty of that, Phantogram showing little fear in tackling whatever strikes their fancy. The aforementioned dream pop? Here's Turn It Off, All Dried Up and You Are The Ocean for you. Something funkier for your feet? Try Running From The Cops or Bloody Palms for size. In need of intimate glitch-soul? 10,000 Claps is all up on that. Got a hankering for that melodramatic, trip-hop blues that Moby's known for? Then When I'm Small and Futuristic Casket have you covered. Yeah, I pulled a Moby namedrop here. I told you my frame of reference sucks in this genre.

But hey, Eyelid Movies is regardless a strong start to this dive into the Phantogram discography. The album could have used a bit more cohesion between songs for it to truly shine, but it does leave me intrigued in how the story unfolds from here, how gained exposure and experience will form and shape their future releases.

ACE TRACKS: September 2019

And this month started out so well too.

Like, I'm feeling a good clip. The words are coming to my head just fine, I'm articulating my points as cleverly as I ever have, no screen is left blank for more than a second before I start committing letters to fingers to keyboard. And yet, it all suddenly went crashing down on me, like a total and complete mental failure that needed not just a reboot or defrag, but a hard drive replacement too (or however this metaphor goes). I've had 'issues' before, sure, but this took me quite by surprise in just how swift and absolute it did me in.

Naturally there are a number of things that contributed to this, much of which needn't nor should be brought up here. One thing that really stands out to me though, in how it should have been a warning sign something wasn't quite right with the ol' brain chemistry, is when I discovered I'd lost two CDs of mine. And I only noticed they were missing because they were supposed to be part of this current run of reviews: Autumn Of Communion's Reservoir Of Video Souls and Biosphere's Shenzhou.

It strangely and scarily unnerved me just how much losing these two CDs (one of which comes in a DVD-sized package, no less) affected me. It felt like I'd lost control over something I knew, with absolute certainty, I had total control over: the state of my music collection. And if not this, what else was I losing control over? It started a very vicious, hyper-critical mental cycle that took some time getting out of, especially when you know 'taking time for yourself' is only putting you behind the schedule you demand of yourself. I know, logically, I have very little to worry about, so why does everything feel like crap?

So it goes when the sun starts retreating further and further onto the southern horizon. Meanwhile, here's the ACE TRACKS that did make it into the month of September:


Full track list here.


MISSING ALBUMS:
Ylid - Transcend!
Le Moors - Tendrils
Crystal Moon - Temple
Various - A Taste Of Kandi Summer 2007

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 0%
Percentage Of Rock: 7%
Most “WTF?” Track: One of the Ezdanitoff tracks, if for nothing else than seeing the cover art.

Fun fact: usually when I'm compiling these playlists, it's in one fell swoop, going in reverse from newest to oldest reviews. While making this one, I noticed how I wasn't skipping any due to a lack of Spotify presence. As I inched closer to the end, I wondered, could this be it? Could this, finally, be the ACE TRACKS playlist that doesn't have a single missing album? Like, there's certainly a smaller selection than most months, so it could happen, right?

Then came the obscure ambient/experimental stuff. Yes, even more obscure than Ezdanitoff, somehow. Strange how so many older Hed Kandi releases never made their way to Spotify though. Yeah, the licensing of those old comps would be a bitch to go through nowadays, but surely the mighty Ministry Of Sound has enough scene clout to pull it off?

Hot Chip - The Warning

EMI: 2006

I can't look at this album and not think of a totally different release called The Warning. This particular Warning is a classic tech-step cut from Grooverider, operating under his Codename John alias, released on Metalheadz at the peak of tech-step's dominance. With its spacious sonics, flanged-out surf sounds, low-riding rhythms, and bass reverberating from the depths of oceanic halls, it's a perfect mood setter for a session of prop'ah underground t'ings. Oh, and a repeated vocal of “This is... the warning”, forever lodging itself inside your brain, such that you can't see any other iteration of “the warning” without having that voice saying it for you.

Not that Hot Chip could have known this when they named their sophomore album The Warning (are any of them closet junglists?). Like, the titular song opens with twinkly bells and twee electro-pop rhythms, about as far removed from the rugged 'n' ruff jungle scene as one can ever get. To say nothing of Alexis Taylor's gentle croon at total odds with an ominous sampled voice. Still, there's something to be said for the unnerving way they calmly sing the chorus here: “Hot Chip will break your legs; Snap off your head.” And you know they will too!

Anyhow, I've been meaning to get back into Hot Chip, as the occasional replay of Made In The Dark leaves me yearning to hear more of the group's electro-pop disco-punk palette. I just can't bring myself to revisit One Life Stand though, for reasons I needn't bring up here (damn you, 2010). If I can't go forward, then I must go backward, to the record that truly broke the five-piece out from indie obscurity into... well, indie stardom at least. Despite the DFA association, it'd still be a little longer before dance music followers truly caught onto them (*cough*).

So The Warning, the album that basically cemented what we'd expect to hear out of Hot Chip forever after. The record that fuses so many idiosyncratic musical genres into a charming electro-soup. The LP that let every indie rag flex their name-dropping ability of all the various other bands Hot Chip reminded them of. I kinda' want to avoid doing that, but I honestly understand why they initially did. Very few sounded like what Hot Chip were doing, including Hot Chip themselves. By now though, their style is so distinct, I can easily say, “Yeah, it's a Hot Chip album, from back in the day,” and y'all know exactly what that sounds like. Makes for a poor review on my part though, doesn't it.

I think the trouble I'm having with The Warning is it hasn't quite sunk into me yet, lacking the immediacy Made In The Dark had. This is for the better though, as I'm quite certain I'll get more out of this record the more I return to it. And I will return to it indeed. Just, um, after some other music I need to hear is dealt with first.

SadGirl - Vol. 3 - Head To The Mountains

self release: 2016

You gotta' hand it to Bandcamp newsletters: they are committed to deep dives within the website's archives, unearthing potential up-and-comers so you don't have to. I can't imagine the soul-sucking experience it must be, sifting through so many amateur musicians, some of which have clearly just cracked open their first freeware producing studio and uploaded their first sessions onto the website in the hopes of a few takes. Not that Bandcamp is anywhere near as bad as Soundcloud in this regard – I'd like to think Bandcamp is where artists release the material they at least believe has some potential of actual money being earned from it – but how many mediocre items must the newsletter writers go through before stumbling upon something worth consideration of a spotlight? Why, it's just like the street 'zines of old!

For sure I'd never have had SadGirl brought to my attention without one such Bandcamp newsletter. Indie rock with influences of archaic surf rock is so far outside my usual wheelhouse, I wouldn't have any clue where to start looking for a fix, much less the commitment to do the necessary digging. If a Bandcamp newsletter promoting surf rockers on their website claims this is a band worth checking out though, then by g'ar I'll check 'em out. Or a tidy little EP on the cheap at least.

And had I first heard the opening song Going Down without that recommendation, I probably would have skipped on by. There's nothing wrong with it, of course, indie rock that's enamoured with the scraggly aesthetics of '60s garage rock and all the punky attributes that'd be adopted in later decades. There's even some nifty echo and reverb on those guitar tones, though nothing that gives me those 'surf' feels, y'know? What's always drawn me to this genre is the open vista it creates with its sonics, and Going Down feels like its still sprung from the tiny rock halls SadGirl cut their mustard in. But hey, they're at least Californian, so some ties to the surf and all.

Nothing sells the punk vibe more than a one-minute ten follow-up in Drowning though, and Someone Else's Skin is a right noisy little number too. I like it fine, I guess, and there's some cool, wavy, echoing solo action, but still not really what I was expecting out of a surf rock newsletter recommendation. Fortunately, we have The Hand That Did The Deed, one of those jangly instrumental ditties that's as much spaghetti Western rock as it is surf rock – the two were synonymous back in the day anyway. Up to this day too, come to think of it. Desperado rock. That's the name it should be called. Someone should make a guide to classic rock to make the name authoritative.

So this EP wasn't what I expected or hoped for, not really convincing me SadGirl was actually a contemporary surf rock band. And yet, I still went and ordered their debut album, Water. Go figure.

Ylid - Transcend!

Unknown Tone Records: 2014

I kept getting this album and Le Moors' Tendrils mixed up, and not just because they're side-by-side in my current queue, nor because they're both items from Unknown Tone Records. It's the cover art, see, with that muted beige-yellow border, and a blue-something in the middle. Having absolutely no prior knowledge of who either act were, they naturally meshed into my mind as a singular entity, for so long leading me to believe Ylid was Le Moors, and Transcend! was Tendrils. In fact, the only way any of this stood out to me as something distinct from the other is when my new Sony Walkman MP3 player would oddly default first to the Ylid album whenever I plugged it into whatever car I was renting for this past summer's road trips. And boy howdy did it ever leave an impression with that Chant track being the kick off. Ain't nothing like hearing heavily synthy 'aahh's just as you're about to hit the open road, believe you me. Who knew Ylid was a fan of Skin To Skin?

Anyhow, it seems we're back to the outright obscure material again, very little information available regarding Ylid via my usual Discoggian means. One Robert Lyon, he released some half-dozen mini-albums and EPs throughout the mid-'00s, then disappeared for a spell before reappearing out of the blue with this album for Unknown Tone. The only connection I can find between these two periods of Robert's music-making career is Tim Martin, whom he worked with as the short-lived project Somme. Tim Martin's career has been more fruitful, especially as Maps & Diagrams, which led him to Unknown Tone along the way (among other labels I've name-dropped in the past). That good will likely helped give Somme some in with Unknown Tone, after which Robert got to dust off his Ylid project for the label as well. So it does all tie together, guy, but boy, are these ever tenuous strings used.

That's a huge chunk of word count burned getting through particulars, which always means I don't have much to say regarding the actual music within Transcend! It's quite clear Ylid comes from the indie side of things, the Kid A influences dripping throughout the album. Sparse electric and acoustic guitar plucking, fizzy-poppy glitchy treatments, overlaying ambient drone tones, abstract twee electronics, all presented in a sketch-book sort of manner. It's clear Mr. Lyon has lots of little ideas for minimalist compositions, but isn't sure how to present them as a cohesive whole, so here they all are as emerged straight from his brain matter.

For sure there are a few that grab my attention. Thames has a peppy, dreamy pulse going for it, while tracks like Volume Of Air, Overhead and Death Thoughts do the thick, layered reverb ambience nicely. Can't say much else does it for me though, but hey, if you prefer your experimental music from a post-rock angle, this may come off better.