ACE TRACKS: August 2019

Yeah, that happened. Got a lot more attention than expected too. Sure, we knew many were anticipating it in select circles of the interweb, and might even get a few shares on third string 'EDM' news outlets. Heck, even DJMag sharing it didn't phase me, though I couldn't help but feel a little amused in their praise, despite the drubbing we've given them over the years (probably because even they know they deserve it for how their popularity poll's perverted a once pure scene). Nay, the only share (thus far) that's given me pause was Billboard's.

Wait, the Billboard, as in the conglomerate that tracks music sales? How did they come across the Guide? Hell, for that matter, how were they even aware of the original, must less feel this was a newsworthy event for them to share? For sure, this was a major undertaking that took years to complete, and we're mighty proud of the resulting effort, but surely it isn't such a big deal that we're getting blurbs in a media outlet who's sole role is continuous hype of mainstream success. Wonders never cease. Nor do ACE TRACK playlists, so here's August 2019!


Full track list here.


MISSING ALBUMS:
Josh Christie - Stuck On A Space Trip
Anduin - Stolen Years
The Gentle People - Soundtracks For Living
Ken Ishii - Sleeping Madness
Kwook - Skywave
Speedy J - Ginger

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 11%
Percentage Of Rock: 11%
Most “WTF?” Track: Anything from The Gentle People, when you realize it was released on Rephlex.

Never a good thing for these playlists when nearly half the albums aren't on Spotify. Some I can understand, being so utterly obscure and all, but Speedy J? Ken Ishii? The Gentle People?? How are those records from them not on there? Weirdly, the remix album of Soundtracks For Living is, but probably because there's a lot of Very Important IDM and techno artists doing remixes there, so are likely of higher interest for those wandering in. And I shouldn't worry much about what currently is or isn't on Spotify, as plenty do eventually find their way there. Why, I just discovered Felix Da Houscat's back catalogue is now available. Sweet, I can finally see if all those post Devin Dazzle albums were as bad as the critics made them out to be! (oh, and Tool too, I guess)

Dead Coast - Shambolic

Annibale Records: 2016

It honestly could have remained a singular compilation indulgence. A specific genre itch that was tied to a specific period of time, and needn't be explored any further. Maybe I'd have gotten myself a Dick Dale collection as well, but surf rock wasn't something in need of diving fully and completely into. Much less wade through the vast, murky shores of indie rock seeking any contemporary bands carrying the music's legacy into the modern era, because there always are a few who find inspiration in super-niche styles of a bygone time. It's just what indie rock do, mang!

Fortunately, and remarkably coincidentally, I stumbled upon a Bandcamp newsletter highlighting all the contemporary bands carrying the music's legacy into the modern era. Like, almost instantly after I'd picked up that Surf Beat compilation. The only explanation for this astounding timing is the sweet Sirens of surf rock heard my longing wail across the Pacific shores, sending me a serenading screed whence I needed it most. Yeah, that tracks.

Thus here I am (rocking you like a hurricane?), reviewing the debut album from Dead Coast, a band out of London that clearly has its ears turned to the early '60s of the California coast. And not only am I reviewing their debut album, but I'm going with the digital copy, because all the hard copy versions were already sold out, but I wasn't gonna' deny myself some fresh musical exploration based on outdated conditionals.

And no, this isn't an all-in surf outing, just as much a 'Merseybeat' and psychedelic rock showing too (Lord Discogs also lists Garage Rock, Blues Rock, Stoner Rock, and Space Rock among the genres Shambolic entails, but what does Discogs know?). The most surfy of the songs on here are probably Ask The Dust, Hills Made Of Sand, Good In Her Blues, and Because I Know You. Mmm, such lush, dreamy reverb, bringing to mind lazy hazy days swaying by sunny shores under palm trees, salty waves lapping at your feet and all that good summer stuff. Plus, can't knock that authentic lo-fi recording quality, as though ripped from the sixty year old, 7” records.

That's only four songs out of a tracklist of thirteen. If the surf-inspired tunes don't cut it for you, you can always vibe on the garage-beat outings like Jenny Loves The Sun, Why Are We Still Together, and Just Don't Give Yourself (ooh, getting a White Stripes feeling off that one). Then there are the weirdo tunes, like ESP that's got that blues thing going, but features a Theremin (or approximate) solo. Or Overcome, an instrumental psychedelic freak-out that pauses at points for some slow jam time in a Tiki lounge (oh hi, Khruangbin, fancy seeing you here); Bossa For Stanley would fit in that lounge too.

So overall, a good first outing in this strange yet familiar musical realm I'm treading out into. I mean, it ought to have been, what with this album coming recommended by Bandcamp and all.

Gorillaz - The Now Now (Kayfabe Review)

Parlaphone: 2018

It took long enough, but Stuart Pot finally got to make his own Gorillaz album. Yeah, he sneaked one out under Murdoc's broken-ass nose while they were on the Plastic Beach tour, but that was basically a solo album, with no input from any other members at all, much less a proper studio behind it. Makes me wonder though, how can The Now Now also be considered a Gorillaz album without involvement from the man who founded the band (albeit mostly through kidnappings)? Sure, three of its members are here, but without the demented brain-child of the band acting as its rudder, it's just a clutch of chummy talented musicians working together, feeding off the nostalgia of the brand to their own benefit.

It reminds me of when Jon Anderson, Bill Bruford, Rick Wakeman, and Steve Howe joined forces for an album. Everyone within prog-rock circles felt this was as close to a classic Yes reunion as folks would get (until the actual reunion called Union), but lacking Chris Squire, it wasn't really Yes, not without the bassist who formed the band present. Maybe Murdoc's relinquished some of the Gorillaz licensing rights to the other members, letting them do as they wished so long as it benefited the brand in the long run. Would fit with his recent attempts at rehabilitation. Heck, he wasn't even that sour over his cousin Ace Copular replacing him on the subsequent tour.

Anyhow, The Now Now. As mentioned, this is essentially another 2D album, but with the full, proper backing of the band. It was also mostly written on the road while Gorillaz toured Humanz, so the song writing remains comparatively slight when stacked against previous records, almost no guest features on hand. And that's fine, something like this probably needed after the celebrity-stacked bloat that was Humanz. I don't even think Stuart could make an opulent record if he tried, his simplistic songcraft reflective of his simplistic worldview. That's not a bad thing either, music sometimes best served as a laid-back sweet indulgence, especially in the summertime.

The tunes definitely sound more confident compared to the ones from The Fall, which isn't surprise considering Murdoc's overbearing abusiveness was safely tucked away in a jail cell. If you don't feel a silly grin forming on your mug after the jubilant opener Humility, I dunno' how you can be alive, my friend. Tracks like Sorcererz and Magic City keep the peppy synth-pop vibes going, while tunes like Tranz and Lake Zurich offer some classy club-ready fodder. Heck, even moodier Hollywood doesn't lose a step in dancefloor fun, what with its Jamie Principle guest-croon (Snoop's there too, doing Snoop th'angs). A couple introspective pieces like Fire Flies and Idaho keep things somewhat grounded, but overall The Now Now is a fun little offering from 2D.

One of these days though, I'd love to hear a Gorillaz album where all the band members are operating as a fully-functional unified band. The stuff of dreams, I suppose.

Curve - Cuckoo

Anxious Records/3 Loop Music: 1993/2017

(a Patreon Request from Omskbird)

Could Curve have been bigger than they were? Sure, anything's possible, even music careers for no-talent hacks like [redacted]. Should Curve have been bigger than they were though? Possibly. For sure they had their fame, carved out a respectable niche in the alt-rock scene of the early '90s. Trouble was, a lot of rock bands were carving out respectable niches in the alt-rock scene of the early '90s, a veritable golden era for the scene as much as it was for hip-hop or rave music. It took more than some regular ol' talent to stand out from the pack, and sometimes even having a unique look and sound might not be enough, that confounding 'luck o' the fates' having as much to do with one's success as any other factor. There's only so much attention to go around, and when the crowd is crowded indeed, some acts get lost in the shuffle, returned to with greater appreciation later down the road after the dust has settled and the wheat's been separated from the chafe. No more cliches, I promise.

In sounding like such an over-amplified soup of feedback-drenched goth rock, Doppleganger certainly had an identity of its own, but was a bit much to take in as a whole. In their sophomore effort, Dean Garcia and Toni Halliday show more variety in their songcraft, even opening up with an all-out noisy cock-rocker. It certainly got the attention of Trent Reznor, providing a rub on the single. From there, Cuckoo hits the same wall-of-sound highs their previous album did, but I do hear more space between the drums, guitar feedback, and Ms. Haliday's voice. In fact, a few tracks in the middle seem to reduce the backing instruments substantially compared to the rest of the album, almost as though the gain on the mixing console was suddenly taken down to a seven from an eleven. Unreadable Communication in particular almost sounds like it's shooting for trip-hop dubbiness, save a mid-song guitar freak-out. Was this intentional? I'd like to assume so, but it kinda' sounds like a mistake too.

Speaking of 'quiet', how about that Left Of Mother, Curve going acoustic! Okay, there's still plenty of layered pedal effects as the song carries on, but man, simple guitar strumming at the start is a handy reminder that this band can go mellow too. Overall though, I'm still astounded they were seldom tapped for movie soundtrack tie-ins. So many of these songs would play great over rolling credits of many a '90s action-thriller.

As for the bonus material in this expanded re-issue, it has the usual assortment of b-sides and rarities included. The remixes naturally grab my attention though, what with the aforementioned Reznor rub on Missing Link, and The Drum Club having a go with Half The Time. Plus, an outfit known as The Future Sound Of London do a rote acid-house thingy on the obscure song Rising. They probably won't amount to anything off of that.

DJ Shadow - The Outsider

Universal Records: 2006

(a Patreon Request)

Above all else, you could not mistake DJ Shadow's third album as being released at any point other than 2006. There's a line about Dick Cheney shooting a guy! That's, like, soooo 2006, man! I guess all the hyphy tracks kinda' date this album too. Yeah, the Bay Area sound massively caught on the following decade, which some may argue is in favour of The Outsider for being that ahead of the game, but let's be real here. No one was turning to DJ Shadow for hot new sounds of San-Fran hip-hop in the year 2006, nor any time before or after. They were turning to DJ Shadow for his unique, seminal take on sampling, turntablism, and trip-hop, somehow expecting he'd ride that Endtroducing..... style forever after. Mr. Davis knew what was what though, hangin' out with dudes like Turf Talk and E-40, and was more than willing to gamble on their sounds, needing something new and fresh lest he grow stale as an artist.

It could have worked. As mentioned, hyphy was blossoming in the world of hip-hop, riding the same wave of frenetic, synth-heavy, party rockin' rap that had turned crunk and grime into huge movements in their regions. It would have been a shock to the DJ Shadow faithful, no doubt, but at least they would understand the abrupt change of sound, and maybe even vibe on it based on the genre's own merits. Unfortunately, DJ Shadow didn't commit to it, instead book-ending The Outsider with a half-dozen hyphy tracks, creating a drastic tonal clash with all the far more musical efforts within the record's creamy centre.

Even without the hyphy, The Outsider could generously be considered overly eclectic. Let's assume you skipped all the way past the David Banner featuring Seein Thangs (whoa, David Banner feature; it's 2006 alright), instead kicking things off with Broken Levee Blues. Cool, some guitar jamming and little spoken-word dialog. Nice an' chill, yo', still capturing that vintage DJ Shadow smooth downtempo- HOLY SHIT! How did we smash right into thrashy speed-punk from that? I'm spazzin' out here! Gotta' love it, and it looks like we're getting into some freaky psychedelic jazz-funk action in Backstage Girl after. So it's gonna' be this kinda' album then.

Nope! A little score work in Triplicate / Something Happened That Day, and suddenly we're into the domain of indie rock, complete with a Brit warbler who's not Chris Martin, but sure sounds like him. And let's not forget the psychedelic folk from Christina Carter in What Have I Done, because Joanna Newsom was a thing in 2006, I guess? Is this even a DJ Shadow album anymore? What is this album? Oh yeah, that one with the hyphy in it. I'd forgotten it started that way, but here's a couple such closers as reminders.

No wonder Mr. Davis called this album The Outsider. It sounds like an artist trying to fit in various musical scenes with nothing in common other than having an interloper playing in their respective sandboxes.

Brasil & The Gallowbrothers Band - In The Rain, In The Noise

Cat Sun: 2010

I admit I'm not the most adventurous of music consumers, generally sticking to the lanes I'm most comfortable in. Like, compared to some vinyl hounds out there, who buy anything they find just to add to the piles in their sheds, I tend to be a little more selective. I'm not one to dive into second-hand shops or yard sales gathering up the numerous Anne Murray and Gordon Lightfoot compilations I find – heck, I don't even buy every Neil Young album, and I likes me some Neil Young more than others. When I do tread beyond my boundaries, it's almost always due to incidental circumstances that I do – taking on someone's former music collection, for instance. Turns out, there's another method of exploration I never knew existed, one that Databloem provided: the mystery splurge!

At their online website, they give you the option of a 'surprise box' of either ten or twenty CDs from their backstock, which had me rubbing my beard as I arched an eyebrow ever so inquisitively. The back of my conscience advised me that these selections couldn't possibly be the best they had to offer, most likely items that had failed to sell-through in their initial runs, and were now being offered as an enticing package to help clear stock. To which the hoarder in my brain responded, “Yes, and?” What if something unexpected and unique came about from this offer, leading me to a fresh path of musical discovery I hadn't considered yet? Plus, this being Databloem, I was confident they wouldn't go that far astray from what I was familiar with. Surely some mundane post-rock was the worst I had to brace myself for.

I honestly might have already covered an album or two from that 'surprise box' purchase, but this one was definitely the first that leaped out for me, exactly what I figured would be the bulk of what I was in for. Brasil & The Gallowbrothers Band is a group name that fits the post-rock bill, as does a title like In The Rain, In The Noise, with song titles like After Dark I Only Hear The Echoes Of Their Footsteps and Another Night In Cottage No. 21. This seems modus operani for this trio of Domink Savio, T.E.R., and Tomek Mirt, who've flitted about the Polish abstract-ambient scene for the past two decade now under various projects and guises, this particular album the last under this particular alias.

And there's some cool sounding stuff on here, a quirky, trippy minimalism that touches upon ambient's more psychedelic aspects - Spider Is Awaken sure reminds me of The Orb's Spanish Castles In Space in capturing pastoral chill. Still, this is all a very indie rock approach to the music, which seldom succeeds in drawing me in the same way as traditional ambient does. I don't know why that is. You'd have to deep-dive into my brain to figure that one out, and really, who want's to do that?

Sakanaction - Documentaly

Victor Entertainment: 2011

(a Patreon Request from Philoi)

I've mentioned plenty my enjoyment of 'foreign speaking' music is typically at a surface level. Like, I'll dig a French rapper riding a beat just as much as any Jamaican toaster, even if I don't have much clue of what either are saying (and one of them raps in English! ...kinda'). And as I've sifted through various Japanese indie and pop singers, so too have I come to at least appreciate their singing cadence in relation to the music, if not so much the lyrical content. Not that I really had much to dig through anyway, most topics dealing with the same things much of Western music does (love, reflections, historical figures). This Documentaly though, this one I was informed that it was imperative that I not only check out the lyrics involved, but also how they came about. Great, homework. Whatever happened to just feelin' the music? Ack, no, must... resist... jazz... snobbery!

Sakanaction is a five piece rock band that incorporates electronic elements, seeing their star shine ever brighter as the years went on. For the past decade, their singles and albums have consistently lay within the Japanese Top 10, with the self-titled fifth one finally hitting that always coveted number one spot. Sakanaction's previous two albums come close though, and as is so often the case with indie bands with humble roots, that increased fame and fortune started weighing on the members' minds, especially so lead singer Ichiro Yamaguchi.

The first half of Documentaly features songs with titles like Identity, Monochrome Tokyo, and Mask Town, and without even reading the lyrics, I can already tell they deal with the desaturated existence of celebrity, where coming into contact with so many faces causes a disconnect with your fellow person, humanity bleeding into a mass of near-nothingness. Heck, one just has to live in a large city to feel that, passing by countless people without knowing or caring who they are. Even some of the attempts at connectivity (Rookie and Anteres To Hari) are met with self-doubt and loneliness. Still, all this doesn't distract from the musical content, mostly peppy indie rock and dance-pop tunes (damn, some of those synths are mint).

Then the album takes a startling turn. There's a curious moment of silence at the mid-way mark, a somber, slower shoegaze jam with minimal lyrics following (Streamline Wave). The following tracks are mostly humbler in tone too, with titles more abstract. I thought it an interesting change of tone, but when I did the background research, it all became far more poignant.

For you see, this album was made at the same time as the Tōhoku earthquake and tsunami, an event so disastrous, Yamaguchi suddenly felt his songs about personal isolation were no longer so poignant. The back-half of Documentaly touches upon these topics less directly than the material in the first half, but man, one can't help but feel the empathy coming from these guys as they hope their countrymen can rebuild from nature's indifferent destruction.

Chris Witoski - All In Line

nizmusic: 2006

I hummed and hawed a little over whether I should review this. I'm under no real obligation to, see, as this feels more like a glorified demo, or a high-profile localized release if I'm being generous. And while I've reviewed a couple such items here and there, they remain on the 'electronic' side of things, music that I at least advertise as being covered on this blog. This is a rock release though – or a heavy, electric-folk one – Chris Witoski a guitarist who's made a tidy career touring Vancouver pubs and bars performing solo material. He's also part of a band called SplitTRACT, but more often than not, I see his name as a solo gig, and have for nearly a decade now. What I find so surprising about this is he performs at just about any location, from big venues like the River Rock Casino, to little hole-in-the-wall joints in my neighbourhood. That's dedication to one's art, leaving no gig turned down, just for the chance to always be playing for an audience, even ones in the ass-end of Vancouver's suburbs (Marpole still better than Killarney!).

As should be obvious, I have this CD because I happened to see Mr. Witoski one time at a bar downtown. Didn't know who he was but I'm pretty sure I liked the covers he was playing. What happened next is a blur, maybe I drunkenly sauntered up to him between sets to ask if he knew any Neil Young (as I always do to dudes with guitars), and somehow ended up with one of his CDs in my hand. The rest of that night... ooh, God, memorable for all the wrong reasons. The sort of events that have you wondering what you're doing with your life, whether the people you live with are doing you wrong, if there's any escape or solution to the insanity that has been thrust upon you, if you should 'man up' and not sleep in the bed while she stubbornly continues to sleep on the couch... where was I again? Darn associative flashbacks.

My background in acoustic-rock of this nature remains very limited, but if I was to give a musical comparison to what I hear from Chris Witoski's All In Line, I'd have to go with Our Lady Peace or The Tea Party. No, I can't be less Canadian about those comparisons. Mind you, Mr. Witoski doesn't have the nasally pitch of Raine Maida or the baritone of Jeff Martin, Chris' voice a pleasant crooning mid-range with multi-tracking flourishes. I'm just going by the musical comparison there. And save some drumming from Bobby James, all the instrumentation (mostly acoustic guitar) is done by Witoski as well. Production is a little stiff, but it's not like we're dealing with a CBC studio release here. Just some tunes by a local guy, committing his passion to a physical format to share with other. Bro, you should take it to Bandcamp, get some chedda' for your efforts!

Supercar - Highvision

Ki/oon: 2002

(a Patreon Request from Philoi)

Not shockingly, most reviews I write are filled with regurgitated factoids from other sources. Having gorged myself in certain scenes, however, I've some insight into artists, genres, and trends that may not be readily available elsewhere – I feel confident when I wax the bull about Ambient Album #314,219,110, it's with some knowledge on the matter. Even stuff I'm not so boned up on, like Japanese indie rock and pop, I can usually find some additional info, giving me a stronger foundation to work from – the wiki on Wednesday Campanella was most helpful. This Supercar though, I'm just not finding much from English sources, save one Hell of a loving 'review' for this particular album on Sputnik Music.

Holy cow, but does user davidwave4 ever get into it more than I could possibly hope to, settling for nothing less than calling Highvision Supercar's Kid A. That's... quite a comparison to make there, mang', one I've no idea is apt or not. Like, there's nothing on this album that sounds like Kid A - certainly no ambient drone pieces like Treefingers - but he's not making a one-to-one music relation. Rather, he's comparing Supercar's discographical narrative to Radiohead's, with Futurama being their OK Computer, thus Highvision their Kid A. More succinctly, Futurama was the schizophrenic embracing of technology, while Highvision is the uncertain merging, accepting that change has come, and we must make do with that reality no matter how unsettling it makes us feel. Sure, guy, you go with that. I never dove deep into Radiohead's music, so have to take other people's word that such proclamations of “this is [artist]'s Kid A” as legit. By the by, when did Kid A supplant Sgt. Pepper's that way?

Right, I should get into Highvision on my own terms, which means the best I can provide is a 'dumb listen'. No deep analysis of lyrics (I can't understand them most of the time, just like Radiohead's Thom Yorke!) or genre dissertation – just simple “d'is music do this, it make me feel like d'is!” interpretations. And whoa, that's quite the distorted techno kick opening things up in Starline. There's still a regular drum kit in play too, just with an added 909 crunchy-thunk. Then there's shoegazey guitars, dream pop singing, and it feels as though I'm being lulled into a hazy headspace. That's definitely a change of tone compared to the upbeat dance number of Futurama's Changes.

And that vibe is mostly maintained throughout Highvision, a remarkable feat considering the disparate styles of music among these ten tunes. Songs flit between electro-pop ditties (Warning Bell, Strobolights, I), shoegaze rock-outs (Storywriter, Otogi Nation), dreamy dance jangles (Yumegiwawa Last Boy), and whatever orchestra electro-glitch thing Nijiiro Darkness is. Heck, there's even a thematic return with closer Silent Yaritori, that crunchy 909 kick reappearing. And best of all, Highvision leaves me feeling elated and high in spirit, which is a better feeling than the dourness of Kid A.

Supercar - Futurama

Ki/oon: 2000

(a Patreon Request from Philoi)

I know rock music has been a major component of Japanese culture for many decades now, but I don't hear much of it. Their chief sonic exports into my earholes remain j-pop and traditionalist modern classical, with some minimalist ambient and techno celebrating neo-Tokyo on the side. All these retain some hint of Japanese influence, adding to the rich tapestry these genres encapsulate across the globe. Rock music, on the other hand, is almost entirely devoted to Americana, forcing its musicians into its mold. Any innovative deviation from The Source is often ridiculed (krautrock, stuffy British progressive rock ...Norwegian death metal?), making the once rebellious scene almost as conservative as country (the true bastion of all that is Americana).

Thus whenever I hear Japanese rock, I give it a respectful nod, but seldom hear much that differentiates it from its American counterparts (screaming j-Punk noise an exception – no one screams like the Japanese!). Indeed, if I didn't explicitly know going in, I wouldn't have guessed this Supercar band was Japanese. For sure they sing in Japanase, but because they do so in that shoegazey method of elongated syllables, it doesn't sound much different from an English singer, in that I haven't a clue what either are saying most of the time. But man, do such vocals ever sound cool in the wall of sound that is indie rock.

Supercar cranked out seven albums in a decade of activity, before disbanding in 2005. They seem adored enough to get vinyl re-issues as of late, but even the Empire Records soundtrack got a vinyl reissue, so what's that worth? No, but seriously, Futurama is the sort of album that could use a little resurgence, a catchy assemblage of dream pop indie jams and club ready electronic rhythms. In fact, this album is far more electronic than I was expecting, tracks like opener Changes, Karma, and Fairway laying the techno-kicks on thick.

Mostly though, we get a variety of chipper indie rock (Playstar Vista, White Surf Style 5., Restarter), quirky synth-hop ditties (Baby Once More, Shibuya Morning, Everybody On News) and dreamy jams (Flava, New Young City, I'm Nothing). Some tracks add in a unique element from the usual shoegaze tones (what is that bleepy sound in Star Fall?), while others revisit musical themes from earlier in the album. Still, Supercar seem incappable of ending Futurama, the last clutch of tracks sounding like they're the capper on the album. No, wait, here's one more song. And one more. And one more. And...

And lyrically? From what I can glean from sporadic translations, most of these songs deal with relationships, which is a little disappointing, if I'm honest. With a title like Futurama, and clear album flow going down, I was kinda' hoping for songs about, well, the future, or at least living in some 'futurama' future. Heck, maybe they are, and the translations simply didn't capture that theme. Wouldn't be the first time something Japanese is lost in translation.

Sweet Trip - Velocity : Design : Comfort

Darla Records: 2003

(a Patreon Request from Philoi)

This is what happens when indie kids discover IDM. Okay, that's not fair, Sweet Trip having debuted with an album that cribbed from acid and jungle drum programming. They were even featured on a couple compilations called Drum & Bliss - what, was Chill & Bass already taken? - and while such a title sounds daft, after hearing their tune Follow Me, yeah, it fits. However, considering their third and final album went full-in with the shoegazey dream-pop, it makes this middle album of Velocity : Design : Comfort stand out all that much more. With fancy production tools and tricks pioneered by ADHD studio rats and IDM wonks far more accessible by the year 2003, such that You Too could create a frenetic glitch-hop schmoze-fest if you so fancied, it seems Sweet Trip fancied it indeed.

I can only imagine the shock older fans had when first throwing this album on, opener Tekka a spastic glitchy, breakcore ditty, leagues removed from whatever 'drum and bliss' business Darla Records initially billed Sweet Trip as. But then it moves onto Dsco, as standard a gentle dance-punk jam as you'd ever hear. Familiar indie territory then, but completely out of sorts from that opener. I cannot deny wondering if this was even the same album, despite all evidence proving it was.

Velocity : Design : Comfort essentially plays out like that for the duration: glitchy IDM stuff, followed by dreamy indie fluff, often within the same track. The rock stuff, I quite like, though as I don't take in much of it in my regular music diet, I've no clue how it stands against the great contemporary dream pop pantheon. In any case, whenever tunes like Velocity, Sept, Chocolate Matter and Fruitcake And Cookies let the indie vibes through (mmm, such lovely vocal harmonies between Roby and Valerie), I'm down.

And that's funny, because I'm not an indie guy – I'm a 'techno' guy. You'd think it'd be all the electronic stuff that tickles my fancy – the twee glitch-hop of International and steady groove of Design : 1 sure do - but there's just so much glitch (just... so much), I too often find it excessively distracting and pointless. Like, all those stutters and fills in the minimalist To All The Dancers Of The World, why do that? The song's fine without them, and they add nothing beyond showing off some technical wankery. Are they there because they can be there? They don't have to be though. Why is this so dense, with so much going on all the time? You had enough sense to leave them out in the dreamy, wall-of-sound climax of the song, so why not the rest?

Hey, to some ears, such wankery is genius. I'm not about to deny them their thoughts. I'm sure that's even part of The Point in this album's concept (it's in the title, mang!). It just comes off needlessly overstuffed to my ears, and maybe even Sweet Trip's too, since they abandoned all that gimmickry when they released their third album. Just sayin'.

Curve - Doppelgänger

Anxious Records/3 Loop Music: 1992/2017

(A Patreon Request from Omskbird)

Though it's among the most mundane of critical platitudes, often repeated when digging around for associated info and insight into Curve's debut album Doppelgänger, I can't help but fall lock-step with it. So here it is, the quote emblazoned on promo stickers and adoring liner notes: “These guys were really ahead the 'curve', man!” Like, if I didn't know this came out in the early '90s, I'd have sworn it was a release from around the 'electronica' boom. Tunes like Already Yours and Fait Accompli could have rubbed shoulders with Republica and Orgy on compilations, while Horror Head might have appeared on a trendy, low-budget hacker thriller soundtrack. Toni Halliday could have paired up with a progressive house producer for a hit sing- no, wait, she did do that, with Paul van Dyk.

The music here does defy much of what rock was doing at the time though, such that they invented a whole new term for it. Fortunately, a couple other bands like Chapterhouse were doing similar things with ultra-dense effects pedals, so it was undeniable a new genre was being birthed. Yet despite getting lumped in with the nascent 'shoegaze' scene, Curve stood out from the pack, a rougher, noisier edge to their ethereal wall-of-sound, with grinding basslines and mechanical rhythms suggesting more an association with industrial rock (itself still developing). Throw in Ms. Halliday slightly Gothic look (that eye-shadow!), and it's no surprise the band might have fit snuggly within that scene too. But wait, all that distortion! Might they have also been grunge as well? No, no, the 'danceable' beats totally makes them part of the 'Madchester' brigade. Urgh, why you no easily fit anywhere, Curve?

Naturally, an album this seminal could only receive a super-deluxe double-CD re-issue for its 25th Anniversary, and 3 Loop Music doesn't hold back. Not only do you get the original ten-track album, but a pile of associated singles sprung from it, plus the original three EPs leading up to it (Blindfold, Frozen, Cherry), a couple live cuts, their obscure cover of the disco classic I Feel Love, and a bonus Aphex Twin remix of the track Falling Free! And by remix, I of course mean a standard On EP era track, with some of Toni's ethereal singing used as a pad. I think even his Jesus Jones remix retained more of the original. Ooh, there's another band I can't help thinking of while playing back Doppelgänger, though I'm certain folks would hate that comparison.

I'm kinda' beating around the bush with song specifics, because this 2CD package is honestly overkill. Curve's sound is neat and unique, but after two-plus hours of it with little variation, it all mushes into my head like an industrial shoegaze sonic soup. Sandpit offers a nice pure-ethereal respite, and the Blindfold EP material provides a quirky look at Curve's development (rapping!), but twenty- three songs (and an Aphex bonus) is just too much for one sitting. Needs more spacing for a full appreciation.

Marnie - Crystal World

Les Disques Du Crépuscule: 2013

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

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

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

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

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

Various - Y9: Nine Years Of Psychonavigation Records

Psychonavigation Records: 2009

It's been nine years since this label released a 'nine years retrospective', and the tale of Psychonavigation Records has since been... colourful. At this point, the print's been reduced to little more than an outlet for Keith Downey's No Mask Effect albums, though they did finally release that Sea Biscuit reissue first announced over a year ago. Come to think of it, that's a tasty little ambient techno classic I wouldn't mind having. Bet I can find the Astralwerks version for a good price on Amazon these days...

As a label retrospective, Y9 is a curious item. Who celebrates nine years of business? No one, for no other reason than the Western world demarcates the passing years by powers of ten: decade, century, millennium, etc. Thus ten years of activity is a recognizable achievement, while nine years is not. Maybe that's unfair to nine, and really, any length of time maintaining a project beyond a couple years is an achievement of sorts, but there's this lingering sense that, if you could do it for nine years, why not push for that extra rep of ten? It's just over the horizon, one Gregorian calendar away. Did the Psychonavigation Records crew of 2009 not figure they'd make it to year ten for some reason? Simply wanted to buck the convention for the sake of quirkiness? Is there more significance to nine years than ten in Irish folklore?

Whatever you want to say about their business practices, few discount the musical talent Psychonavigation Records brought in over the years, and Y9 is as handy a showcase of that as any. It touches upon all the genres they dipped their fingers in, from the early jazzy trip-hop dabblings (Buckminster Fuzeboard's Local Tone, Aza & Eoin's Miles & Miles, P.P.Roy's Cop Theme) through the ambient and Boardsy nods (Gel-Sol's Your Day In The Sun, Enrico Coniglio W & J Theme, Seán Quinn's I'm Here (Twice), Ciaran Byrne's Curtain Moon).

And while acts like Roddy Monks and Eedl gave the label an early in with ambient techno (from which they'd almost exclusively continue promoting), back then Psychonavigation was commonly rubbing shoulders with shoegazey indie sorts like Soul Gun Warriors U-Mass and Tiny Magnetic Pets (I swear I've heard the tragic-twee pop of Spinning before). This stuff kinda' went overlooked as the label's lifespan carried on, but it does paint a picture of a print willing to take chances on just about anything flying under the radar. Heck, Rarely Seen Above Ground's Talk Back Crawl Back is some straight-up boppin' garage rock, featured on a double-LP outing called Organic Sampler, and primarily performed by one man, Jeremy Hickey. That's dope, yo'!

Of course, my musings on Y9 are irrelevant, as it doesn't appear available on any official outlets anymore, so odds are slim folks will find this CD. Some of the artists do have their own Bandcamp pages though, so if any of this music intrigues you, do 'em a solid and scope out those options.

Ladytron - Velocifero

Nettwerk: 2008

It took them four albums and nearly a decade, but Ladytron finally, finally, found themselves a label that wouldn't drop them (Invicta Hi-Fi, Island Records) or collapse (Telstar, Emperor Norton). It only seems appropriate that it was Vancouver-based Nettwerk that would take them in, what with their debut album being a reference to the city's area code number. And hey, the print even had ties to new wave and synth-pop since their earliest years, so it's not like Ladytron was out of place there. Sure, Nettwerk's taken a few odd tangents over the decades, but a former electroclash band that was never electroclash in the first place nicely rubs shoulders with the likes of Sarah McLachlan, Skinny Puppy, and Delerium.

By this point, Ladytron was quite evolved from the charming, bristly synth-pop that marked their early work. They were now sounding like an actual band, with actual instruments like drums and guitars to go with their stockade of retro synths. And if the New Order and Depeche Mode influences were only hinted at in tangent with the obvious Kraftwerk and Human League nods, they fully embrace them in Velocifero, their rockiest outing yet. I mean, 'rockiest' in sounding rock-like, not 'rockiest' in sounding shaky and uncertain. 'Rock-like', as in rock 'n' roll, not the stones we find strewn about the ground. The music, I mean, not the act of sex. Curse my language of multiple meanings.

A couple things make Velocifero a decidedly unique album from the previous three. One, Ladytron employ more of a 'wall-of-sound' production to their music this time out. Even when things sometimes got chaotic with their older tunes, you could always pick out distinct sounds apart from each other. That's barely the case in Velocifero though, every vocal, synth, guitar and drum machine melting into a homogeneous whole of dense reverb and echo effects, instrumentation acting more like layers of timbre rather than individual set pieces. For sure you can still identify an organ tone from a drum kick, or Mira's Bulgarian lyrics from Helen's sultry lisp (*swoon*), but more than ever before, they all are in service of the musical whole.

This leaves the album as something of a double-edged sword, though. Front to back, Velocifero is easily the most consistent and flowing LP Ladytron ever put out. By the same token though, it lacks those instant ear-worm tunes that forever (and a day) get lodged in your head. Absolutely there's still wonderful songs on here. Singles Ghosts, Runaway, and Tomorrow hit insta' pop triggers the group have always done with ease, while Burning Up, The Lovers, and Versus yank all the feels out of my spleen-soul, leaving me aching for more. Yet when the album ends, old hits like Destroy Everything You Touch and Discotraxx pop into my head first, individual songs on Velocifero fading away into an amorphous glob of sound that dominates the album's production. Whatever, I can still vibe on some amorphous glob of sound, especially when it's coming from Ladytron.

The White Stripes - The White Stripes

V2: 1999

For as big a band The White Stripes became, they certainly have humble beginnings. I wonder if they'd have even broken out of Detroit obscurity without a couple lucky breaks. For sure Jack and Meg White had a good sound going for them, but this was the late '90s, you see, and theirs was a sound no one in the world of Corporate Rock had interest in. Maybe if one of the elder statesmen of blues classic rock made a throwback garage album, that would get some buzz, but a couple of kids out of the Motor City? Hell, the music press already had a new hero from that area to fawn over, a white rapper who somehow earned Dr. Dre's blessing. Now that's a story!

This duo may never have had much aspiration for their music beyond dominating their local scene, but boy did they go all out in doing so. Jack White was already a seasoned journeyman playing in various bands, but when his recently married wife Meg had a kick at the tin cans, they realized their musical synergy was better than anything else he'd been working on before. Thus they dubbed themselves The White Stripes, with a peppermint candy theme in their presentation, about as retro a rock look as you could hope to get in the '90s. While working the underground rock stages for about a year, indie label heads noticed the duo had “It”, and were offering them record deals. They signed with Cali-based Sympathy For The Record Industry (they of Chemical Dolls, Love Dolls, The Lazy Cowgirls, Mad Daddys, Loudspeaker, Experimental Audio Research, and The Pooh Sticks) for a debut album.

And, well... it's certainly a debut album from The White Stripes. They already had a deliberately simple sound to begin with, and if their so-called magnum opus of Elephant wasn't breaking the mould by much, then a self-titled debut sure as Shirley ain't either. If anything, it can't help but be as basic as blues rock gets, Jack and Meg still in the process of realizing their full potential. It's certainly a good ol' rowdy time throughout, the production as heavy and thick as you could get in the '90s. At sixteen tracks long, most averaging the two-to-three minute range, The White Stripes supplies a nice variety of hard rockers, bluesy downbeaters, and... um, that's about it. Hey, it's not like the songs last long anyway.

Still, as decent a debut as this album is, it didn't get much attention in the rock world – they were more interested in the output of Limp Bizkit and Creed, dont'cha know. However, an influential UK DJ by the name of John Peel (perhaps you've heard of him?) happened upon the album, taking an instant liking to it. Naturally, his word gave The White Stripes an in with the always savvy British market, while The U.S.... had to wait for a Lego video to finally catch on too. Then they couldn't stop praising this album!

Khruangbin - The Universe Smiles Upon You

Night Time Stories: 2015

Damn, it happened again. I was woodhinked. Blambozzled. Tricksied out of my onesie. Led astray by a lass named Mary-Lee into the waiting clutches of Donald Van Baron Wolfenstein. I mean, is it really so hard in this day and age, for the electronic music section of a record shop to have exclusively electronic music? It used to be I’d find the ‘oontz-oontz’ occasionally floating about the Rap shelves (because Hip-House) or Rock section (because Industrial), but never a traditional band rubbing shoulders with my FSOL and 808 State. This isn’t even one of those indie ‘dream pop’ deals again, where some synths are utilized by such musicians.

Nay, Khruangbin (the name’s Thai, though the band’s Texan) is a pure three-piece, taking influences from obscure southeast Asian rock bands of fifty years hence. The only reason I can assume this ended up in the ‘Dance’ section is because The Universe Smiles Upon You comes care of Night Time Stories, a sub-label of LateNightTales, whom have had a long relationship with the chill side of electronic music, often tapping such musicians for their compilation series of the same name. Still, it’s not like Warp Records’ rock releases or Ninja Tune’s jazz outfits haven’t found homes in the wrong sections of record shops either, solely due to said label’s standing reputation within music scenes at large. Plus, how many LateNightTales CDs are filled with anything but electronic music anyway? No, really, I’m asking because the only one I’ve heard through is the Fatboy Slim one!

Anyhow, Khruangbin peddle in a light, breezy form of folksy rock that’s almost entirely instrumental. Only two tracks on this debut of theirs features lyrics of any kind - White Gloves and Balls And Pins - and often very simple ones at that. Deeply challenging words aren’t in Khruangbin’s plans, content in letting the listener drift away in their dreamy tunes drenched in echo and reverb. Mostly they go for a mild funk (Mr. White, Dern Kala, People Everywhere, and August Twelve with the wiki-wiki guitar licks), with a couple dalliances into soul, blues (Zionsville), and whatever it is Little Joe & Mary is doing with that slide guitar business (country? surf??).

I should mention these style tags are quite nebulous where Khruangbin’s sound is concerned. The honest truth is their music doesn’t tidily fit into any of those categories, the band an assemblage of AM soft rock from the ‘70s, with a touch of modern shoegaze thrown in for good measure. My old man made a comparison to Boz Scaggs when I pressed him for some insight into this sort of music, which forced me to take in more Boz Scaggs than the one song everyone knows from him to confirm. Yeah, I’d say the comparison’s apt.

All said, The Universe Smiles Upon You truly is a pleasant little album to throw on (even my Nan liked it), and despite my ranting above, a nice divergence from my usual fare.

Sound Of Ceres - Nostalgia For Infinity

Joyful Noise Recordings: 2016

It had to happen eventually, genre lines so blurred these days as to fool even studious record store clerks. Yet maybe shoegaze has come far along in its development that it’s abandoned all pretense of being part of the Rock Domain, more content hanging out with dorky ‘electronica’ folk. This may just be the new normal, stumbling upon ‘dream pop’ where I typically hunt for techno and jungle. Still sends a strange shiver over my shoulder though, music that once was out in the indie racks now sneaking into my unsuspecting ears.

Gads, what an incredibly narrow-minded take on music. What if there is something in shoegaze pop that could win me over? Hey, I don’t doubt there is, but it’s not high on my bucket list. Truthfully, I’d probably have never given Sound Of Ceres a chance if I had any prior knowledge of them, or even took a pre-listen in the shop, their tunes just not what I was after that sunny day in Seattle.

But nay, I went in blind, lured by the intriguing cover art and suggested promise of music with a cosmic bent. Such was the idea behind this particular band anyway, the genesis of Karen and Ryan Hover looking to expand their earlier dream pop work as Candy Claws into something grander. It certainly is that, Nostalgia For Infinity the sort of thickly layered shoegaze that’s instantly catchy to the ear, yet contains so many little details, there’s always something new to hear with each playback. Eh, that’s part of the Sound Of Ceres manifesto too? Ah yes, the concept of ‘five orbits’, as presented in the album’s liner notes, each sonic layer a descending orbit for the listener to traverse. I can’t tell if that’s artistically pretentious, or musically playful. All shoegaze is like this, isn’t it?

Still, it’s a concept I can buy into. At first impression, Sound Of Ceres does the dream pop thing as fine as I’ve ever heard (disclaimer: not a whole lot), with Karen’s wispy floating vocals almost subsumed by layers of reverb. I have to pay actual attention if I’m to decipher her lyrics, after which I start noticing finer details in the instrumentation (guitar tones, electro drum kits, field recordings, retro synths, plucky electronics). For the most part, it feels like I’m listening to a long lost slice of Boomer psychedelic pop, all the folksy Americana of Brian Wilson’s best work, but fed through an idealistic, introspective lens with modern production chops. Oh, and final track Dagger Only Run reminds me a lot of Gorillaz’ Empire Ants - very similar cascading synth arp between the two. Or is that just a dream pop staple regardless? I honestly don’t know.

Maybe one day I’ll learn all there is to know of this genre. For now though, Sound Of Ceres provided a pleasant diversion from my same ol’, same ol’. In fact, it came off too sunny for this particular month. Must return to next April.

ACE TRACKS: June 2016

Guess what! I’ve reached the ‘Tr’s of my epic, endless journey through music I own, so you know what that means: it’s time to kick off a Summer Of Trance! Okay, ‘summer’ is pushing it some, but at least a July’s worth, especially if we include items through ‘trans’. Finally though, all of my trancecracker glories and fails will come to light, everything I own that’s trance. Except for the releases that started with ‘Goa’ or ‘Psy’. And all those In Trance We Trust mixes too, I guess. Plus anything that had ‘trance’ in its title, just not the start, come to think of it. Hell, even some releases that didn’t have ‘trance’ at all, like A Day On Our Planet or Dreamland or Ideas From the Pond or Rendezvous In Outer Space. Fine, this upcoming bundle of trance is but a fraction of the total amount floating about my stores of CDs. Trust me though, after a month of this, you’ll be begging for variety. Gangsta rap, psychedelic rock, minimal derp-haus, anything! Or hey, whatever’s on this ACE TRACKS playlist for June 2016. Yes, nailed the segueway!



Full track list here.


MISSING ALBUMS:
Various - Toronto Mix Sessions: Kenny Glasgow
Various - Trade: Past Present Future

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 2%
Percentage of Rock: 34%
Most “WTF?” Track: The Archies - Sugar, Sugar (how do I suddenly have diabetes after listening to this song!?? …but seriously, another Dronny Darko piece is the answer)

Not quite as eclectic as these past couple months, as I mostly spent June wrapping up backlog before carrying on with ‘T’ albums. Heavier on the folky, alternative, and indie rock than anything else, but also got into familiar territory again with trip-hop, d’n’b, techno, and Neil Young. Really not much else to say about this playlist, because TRANCE is coming, man! TRANCE!

The Brian Jonestown Massacre - Strung Out In Heaven

TVT Records: 1998

I’ve hit saturation point of how much alternative music I can handle. What a petty complaint. It’s not like I’m digging into the truly obscure recesses of the indie realms, most names cropping up well-known, respected talent with deserved critical and commercial success. Plus I’ve spent these past two months keeping a toe or two in electronic genres I’m familiar with, all the while exploring the darker regions of a specific sub-genre. Yet here I am, face to ear with another indie rock band I know nothing about, hearing tunes that are all fine and dandy Worhals, but my mind sub-consciously keeps turning it to mush. It’s as though the previous fifty releases I’ve reviewed are a smorgasbord of music, filled with entrees I’m familiar with but several I’ve never actually sampled. And darn it, I’ve paid for the All You Can Eat option, so I’m gonna’ sample everything in this spread. But man, am I ever feeling stuffed finally getting to those last few dishes.

Anyhow, The Brian Jonestown Massacre. This is a band headlined by one Anton Newcombe, the sort of eccentric musician I’m sure many music scribes have described as ‘authentic’ or ‘audacious’, fearing few paths with his sonic adventures. Starting out as a ‘shoegaze’ group, the San Fran band shows no shame in their love of psychedelic rock, and curse their luck getting their start in the ‘90s. No, wait, that's when starry-eyed gazes back to the decade of Dylan, Beatles, Byrds, and Stones kicked in, to say nothing of movie soundtracks revitalizing ‘70s music for a younger generation. This was the perfect time for The Brian Jonestown Massacre’s brand of rock to flourish!

TVT Records certainly thought so, signing the band to a fat, multi-album contract after their underground cred starting bubbling over. The result is Strung Out In Heaven, an album that sounds like an HD remaster of ‘60s folk rock. Apparently band member Matt Hollywood wrote more of the songs in this outing, what with Anton getting too deep in that heroin lifestyle. Silly Anton, you save that drug for the ‘70s throwbacks – ‘60s was all on that acid trip, yo’.

Listening to this album, I feel like it was intended as a soundtrack for an epic Americana indie film, another celluloid attempt at On The Road where the only bad choice the protagonist makes is going home. Seems TVT Records felt the same way, the packaging straight out of some ‘60s pulp cinema, the band members listed on the cover like stars of the film. There’s plenty of dreamy melodies, groovy Hammond organs, folksy strumming, and stoned singing, a total love-letter to times past as envisioned by musicians far removed from the era. Too much of an ode, turns out, Strung Out In Heaven failing to sell anywhere near TVT’s expectations. Realizing the band was a bit too ‘out there’ for the major independent print, Brain Jonestown Massacre mutually split from TVT, and they went back to making weirdo music again.