Various - Fabric 44: John Tejada

Fabric: 2008

I've sure come a long way around to finally spot some shine on John Tejada. Dude's been in the game for over two decades (lot's of dudes like that at this point), and have even come across him in a couple random Balance sets over the years. More recently,contributed to the resuscitated Cottage Industries series, but I know I've seen his name plenty from dang near every corner of clubland. So it goes when you're a producer having releases on such Very Important labels like Kompakt, Poker Flat Recordings, 7th City, Touched, and oodles more. The usual assortment of tech-house luminaries have rinsed out his tunes, but Mr. Tejada's works have even found their way into David F'n Guetta's mixes (of course it'd be a track called Sweat (On The Walls) ...that's gotta' be a CB4 reference, right?). You can imagine, then, my slight disconnect associating ol' John with the worst of mid-'00s electro-sleaze while also thinking him more in line of melodic IDM wonks like Plaid.

I shouldn't be thinking of his more modern works though (or some of his pre-Poker Flat material, for that matter), at least with regards to what he brings to the Fabric series. I'm sure he was tapped for a DJ spot based on his run of singles throughout the '00s that brought him the most prominence. Based on this set, however, I get the sense John's far more comfortable behind the producer's console rather than the turntables (or whatever software used to construct Fabric 44). I'm sure he's toured some clubs for a little extra scratch, but Lord Discogs lists this as his first real commercial mix CD - the Backstock releases were more compilations of music from his own Palette Recordings print.

Actually, I think Mr. Tejada's most cozy rinsing out his tunes, as Fabric 44 features seven tracks he had a hand in (about half-and-half solo and collab's). John's also quite the fan of Shed here, at least three more cuts featuring Mr. Pawlowitz in some fashion. Also-also, this is the sort of techno set that includes tracks with titles like WAX10001, Equalized001, M Track 1, and Huba (Plaid's 15 Years Lost Remix). Lots of 'faceless underground techno', is what I'm sayin', even if the producers involved are some of the most popular chaps around.

Cool beans, then. A real rinse-out of real techno for the real heads, right? Maybe, kinda'? I was incredibly leery at Fabric 44's start, about as bloopy minimal as this stuff could get in 2008, but things do pick up into more traditional Detroit minimal. Ah, the Berghain sound is on nigh. Overall though, this set has the feeling of Mr. Tejada just playing tracks rather than building any kind of narrative, which only furthers my assumption he's more suited as a producer than a DJ. Still, any set that includes classic Orbital (Fahrenheit 303), contemporary Spooky (Candy), and obscure Pete Namlook (!) can't be all bad.

Various - Fabric 34: Ellen Allien

Fabric: 2007

Yeah, yeah, I know. How has it taken me this long to cover anything from Ellen Allien, and finally only doing so by way of a discounted Fabric CD? She's an intriguing figure, no doubt, carving out her own niche and brand within a heavily male-dominated Berlin techno scene. I'm sure if I take a full, proper plunge into her discography – albums, mixes, art – I'll find plenty of golden nuggets to gorge myself on. Still, there's always that lingering caveat that keeps me hesitant: '00s' 'Berlin' 'techno'. You know the era I'm talking about.

I'm not saying Ellen was just as guilty in steering that scene into the dry, minimalist waffle that turned techno into such a pretentious chore to trudge through. If anything, she was an outlier to all that, going more brashy electro during minimal's rise. It was the omnipresent sound whether you liked it or not, however, and being heavily involved in that region's music scene, she too eventually fell sway to what you were 'supposed' to be doing with techno at any given time, personal preference be damned. At least, that's my impression of her career in the years surrounding this CD, and in a way, her Fabric set kinda' confirms my assumption.

Before I get into that, let me once again throw some shade on the 30s run of Fabric mixes. Yep, yet another CD in this era that's been reduced to bargain bin lows. I'm now missing only two out of this portion of the series: Steve Bug and Robert Hood. I almost want to get them just for completist sake, but nay, I'll wait to see them on the cheapy-cheaps. Bug I could see happening, but not Hood – that one's been hailed as being good, actually.

The first half of Fabric 34 is the sort of set I was hoping to hear: an eclectic ride through various forms of house and techno without ever sounding too much like a mixtape in the process. A little vintage Larry Heard acid, a little retro-future Detroit cool groove (Estroe's Driven), a little propah' Detroit dubby freshness (Don Williams' Orderly Kaos), and even a little neo-trancey melodic charm (Artificial Latvasmäki's It Is Now Either). Yes, all the kinds of techno I've no problem hearing from the mid-'00s. That second half though...

Yeah, I didn't care much for this stuff back when, and time hasn't been kind to it either. Roman Flügel has earned his stripes, but Mutter is every cliche of wanky, plinky-plonk minimal you can imagine. Even that's more interesting than the utterly uneventful Plastikman rub of Heartthrob's Baby Kate, a tune that really didn't need going more minimal. There's also seven minutes of Thom Yorke warbling over stripped down electro beats, in case the big, bold, artiste sign in this portion of the set wasn't clear enough. I know Ellen isn't the sort of lass to bang out anthems, but this portion of Fabric 34 is pure navel-gazing tedium.

Herne - Emotional Axes

Neotantra: 2022

In a coincidental twist, the next album within the Ember Delays Vol. 1 box-set is one that would have ended up slotted in my review queue at this point regardless. Somewhere hereabouts, at least, the combination of 'Em' surprisingly common for titling among musicians. Emotional, Emit, Emfire, Empire, Empyrean, and so on. Of course, not nearly as many variants of 'El', what with well over a dozen versions of 'Electr' and 'Element' in there (and three 'Elephants', somehow ...yes, my mind still boggles).

Dammit, and now that I've tugged at that bit of useless trivia, my wonky brain-matter is suddenly compelled to find out all the useless stats of such combinations within my music collection. How many albums start with 'Ex' or 'Im' or 'Lo' or 'Xp'. Or maybe go reverse on it, like how many don't start with 'Qu'? (zero, by the way – the answer to that one is zero). Such insatiable need to know things, especially that which serve no purpose other than filling statistical bupkis.

Well, that was a tangent, which means I either have little to talk about the music on hand, or little info regarding the artist crafting it. Definitely the latter than the former, this Herne having almost no Discoggian presence, and nothing else I can find elsewhere. In fact, about the only material he has to his name are frequent contributions to Neotantra compilations, first appearing all the way back on tʌntrə V. He made relatively steady appearances after for the next couple years, then was finally given the album go-ahead with this here Emotional Axes. Then following that, not a peep. Maybe whoever Herne is started working on other stuff under a different name, but again, no idea of that with the information I have available to me. For all I know, it's another Lee Norris side project.

Anyhow, Emotional Axes. This was a bit of an odd one, in that it started one way, then kinda' morphed into something else by album's end. Yeah, we're still dealing with ambient music, but as I hope I've made abundantly clear over the years, there's a lot of variety within the genre, even when focusing on the more subtle, calming side of things.

For instance, the first few tracks quite remind me of the sort of lowercase minimalism I frequently heard on Andrew Heath's albums. Maybe not quite as abstract, the quiet use of field recordings and simple flowing pads rather straight-forward and obvious - when a track called Concentration invokes feelings of gentle reflection, you know the artist is on point in their musical intent. Yet while the minimalism does carry through, Herne's execution starts varying as the album plays out. Some tracks start layering atonal pads into a wall of sound, while others (especially towards LP's end) abandon musicality altogether, settling into experimental bleeps and ultra-quiet dark drones. I can't say I was as fond of these pieces, somewhat ruining the tranquil mood the earlier portions of Emotional Axes offered.

Jon Hester - Converge Part I

REKIDS: 2020

I'm not only buying MP3 releases without much care in the world about doing so, I've now begun buying them from Radio Slave's label, REKIDS. If you'd try telling 2007 Sykonee that would be a thing some fifteen years in the future, he'd have bonked you upside the head for speaking such mad nonsense. Of course, he'd also have scoffed at the notion he'd end up living in the same place for over a decade, having migrated many places in the preceding ten years before. Come to think of it, that Sykonee would have been amazed at many things that have come to pass since, maybe even this music-writing thing still an ongoing hobby. But yeah, that whole 'buying digital from Radio Slave', definitely a humdinger of a what th'? now.

What's attracted me to his print, however, is the abundance of techno names familiar and obscure adorning its discography. I feel like I can just hop about release to release checking out whatever may come, and I'm guaranteed some interesting item worth listening further. Right, not everything is golden – with the amount of records coming out of REKIDS, how could it be? Taking a couple risks here and there certainly can't hurt though, right?

Like this Jon Hester felle'r. I know nothing about him, but crikey if that isn't some cool looking cover art. And a full-length LP debut at that? Heck, that's plenty 'nuff for me to scope this out, even if Mr. Hester catalogue is a total blank to me (various singles on various labels throughout the '10s – as you'd expect of a techno up-and-comer).

First proper track on Converge Part I is an eleven-minute outing called Metropolitan with a very loopy, minimalist techno beat. There's some conga fills along the way, but the main feature is a lone piano plinking about throughout. Yeah, it's got that 'Detroit goes jazz' vibe going for it, but I can't say the piano tone does much for me, neither funky nor uplifting in any meaningful way. Still, it's better than the saxophone tooting in follow-up Haze, but my boredom of the track may have more to do with my long-standing beef with the sex-jazz instrument.

Fortunately, the album gets into a deeper side of techno I rather like after. Rain has a mellow synth tone warbling about a fine shuffly rhythm, Dreamstate gets on that dubby minimalism action, and Free lets the trance pads soar. As for the final couple tracks, I'm sure Flex will get some Drexciya triggers flaring, while closer Equinox goes a little askew with its oscillating synths. Have I mentioned how any of these tracks remain quite loopy, never having much fuss in building upon its early elements beyond whatever knob twiddling Jon does his leads as a track plays out? I haven't? Well, there we go.

So maybe not the most exciting record overall, but I could see most of these tracks working in an early, warm-up set before the real techno party starts.

Chris Liebing & Speedy J - Collabs 300 & 301

NovaMute: 2004/2021

I initially thought maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't have to do these, the Chris Liebing collaborations well and sorted on the Metalism album concurrently released with the singles. A brief glance at the LPs' track list reveals three out of the four tunes making their way on, so nothing more I can say about them, right? Just move onto the next item and- oh, wait, that one on there is called Triflon, whereas this one's called Treflon. And having already gone through Jochem's penchant of making differing tracks with remarkably similar titles save a single vowel, these two will be different as well, right? Right. And whereas the single featured a Trezcore, the album has Acid Trezcore, while the Tricko on Metalism is a live version. Throw in a totally unique cut among the two Collabs with Liebing called Drippelzimmer, and yep, I do believe we have completely original material distinct from the album. Guess I gotta' get on that proper-like, then.

Or heck, I'll 'cheat' a little, wrap the two into one single review. Better for all, I wager.

Collabs 300 kicks off with the aforementioned Tricko, in its original incarnation. It's structurally the same track as heard on Metalism, a steady, pummelling piece of techno business gradually adding rhythmic layers before doing a little 'bring it down, then all back' in the back-half. An effective tool, then, but man, hearing all that extra club resonance and crowd hollering in the live cut... just can't be beat. Just goes to show how much more effective this stuff sounds live than sitting at home with headphones on. So much more energy. Just... so much more. Meanwhile, Treflon is a far superior version of the basic premise of Triflon. I wasn't much impressed by the bouncy, tech-house nature of its Metalism counterpart, but then I wasn't much impressed by anything among that album's opening salvo. Treflon may still over-use the crunchy-squishy percussion and distorted minimal vocals, but dammit, at least this version has a proper techno pulse to it. Still didn't need got'dang twelve-plus minutes of it, no matter how much fun I'm sure Chris and Jochem had jamming away making it.

Collabs 301 is kinda' the same, in that there's one better version of a track than as found on Metalism, and one lesser version. Okay, that's cheating, since I can't confirm nor deny there's a Metalism counterpart to Drippelzimmer. Really, any of the 4am warehouse bosh cuts could be one, since this is more of that. Quite minimal in its production too, in that there isn't a whole lot going on beyond the usual assortment of percussive fills and pull-backs. Again, standard fare for Liebing and Paap techno of the time, which I'm sure worked quite well in their sets. Trezcore, on the other hand, can't help but sound inferior to Acid Trezcore because, well, there's no acid. Yeah, it pummels just fine and all but where's the acid? Wh'ar th' ACID!? Nowhere she be, but on Metalism.

Speedy J - Bugmod

NovaMute: 2002/2021

The last single to be properly spun off from Loudboxer, this. Yes, I know Tanga kinda'-sorta' was too, but none of those tracks featured on the album, no matter what the similar artwork suggests. Speaking of, holy cow, I can't believe I didn't notice it before, but gander at that black stripe beside Bugmod there. Know what's under it? It's Krekc! And Tanga had both this and Krekc blotted out in white above as well. Oh man, I love it when spin-off singles maintain a running theme – makes them feel more like part of a proper series than some disjointed association.

But wait, you say, there be no Bugmod on Loudboxer either. Is this another Tanga situation, where we'll get a Bugmod, a Buugmod, and a Bugmood? No, but we do get a little more Krikc and Krekc, by way of remixes. The other two tracks on this EP are strictly Speedy J originals, so let's have a listen in.

And Bugmod pretty much picks up where the rest of Loudboxer left off, an unrelenting pummelling of percussion, the snare and hi-hats tasting a touch of flange. An off-beat bleep is the only thing resembling any sort of hook, but earworms is not the point of this cut. There's also a nifty little 'fade it down, bring it all back' peak, which makes Bugmod a little more useful for set construction than just another tool to throw down, but better be quick on your next draw, 'cause this track ends quite abruptly. On the flip, Glov at first seems like it might be the 'deeper' option, the pounding beatcraft simpler and steady. Then what's this? An actual hook? Okay, it's still just synth stabs keeping pace with the rhythm, but they build upon each other, retreat, coalesce, retreat, and so on. It's the closest thing to a melody that Jochem gives out of the whole Loudboxer enterprise, and you'll love it, darn it all!

The remixes, then. DJ Rush handles the first, on Krekc. I'm not really familiar with this techno veteran, though he is Jeff Mills Approved, so there's that. Lord Discogs also tells me I have at least one other of his tracks, on... wait djmixed.com/keoki? Really!? Haha, never would have expected that. Anyhow, his go with Krekc is pretty much more techno bosh, with a little transistor tweeting knob twiddlin'.

On the other end is Umek, who I definitely know, so no need to get into details there. He gets to have a go with Krikc and holy cow, is this ever a blinder of a cut. I'd actually forgotten just how much of a banger the original is, and Umek sees no point in taming this beast for his use. Instead, he throws in an actual hook, a simple sweeping little thing oscillating as it carries on. It's not even harsh or gritty as you'd expect of techno in this vein, surprisingly gentle on the ears even as the beats punch your chest cavity into submission.

Robert Hood - The Blueprint EP

REKIDS: 2021

I guess it's rather sad that it's taken me this long to give minimal techno legend Robert Hood some proper attention 'round these here parts. At least I finally have, right? Sure, but as usual I just can't do things logically, like grab one of his seminal classics such as Internal Empire or Point Blank. Not even a DJ mix like his contributions Fabric or DJ-Kicks. Okay, fine, at least I settled for a single, of which there's numerous, but even then it's some cock-eyed way of doing things. No Minimal Nation, no Red Passion, nothing from his usual labels like M-Plant or Music Man Records, while ignoring his time with the almighty U.R. Nope, just a second EP out on Radio Slave's label, REKIDS. Look, it just happened to be the one I glanced at, and if releasing new techno on Matt Edwards' print is okie-dokie by the Detroit don', it's good enough for me.

It'd be easy to spend the bulk of this 'review' going on about Mr. Hood's history, as if my regular readers haven't a clue of his legacy. And hey, maybe I will, should I finally spring for some of his Very Important records that you should have, even if you're not a Robert Hood fan. Doing so here and now though, feels like I'd be doing his recent output a disservice. Like, cool and all there's respect for the back catalogue, but sometimes artists would prefer it if folks hyped up their recent efforts too, put them in just as loving gaze. Is The Blueprint EP one such record that can be brought up as such?

Well, it starts out unfussy enough, opener Chroma Light doing the classic minimal techno thing without any of the stupid ticks the genre gathered in the following decades. The beat thumps proper, occasionally with extra bass, the twitchy hook is simple with plenty of flange at appropriate points, and backing synths build tension as the tracks plays out. Shame it's not even six minutes long, I coulda' grooved to this for longer.

The main attraction, however, is The Majestic, as there's two versions on this four-tracker. There's not much difference between the two, besides the Deeper Edit being, well, deeper. Both clearly have 'main room' or 'peak hour festival' written all over them, a big, boisterous hook coming in and out as straight-forward minimal bosh carries on. I guess that leaves closer Ultrasonic Room one for the 'real heads', barely a hook to be had, but a fun, subtle build featured just the same.

Should I mention there's a slight difference between digital and vinyl of this record? For some reason, both Majestics are lumped together in the middle here, but are separated as A1 and B2 for the black crack addicts (the Deeper Edit way off on the far side, naturally). Mind, this may have just been a pressing error, since they're labelled the same as the digital version. Talk about vintage.

Speedy J - Armstrong / Klave

self-release: 2021

Oh yeah, Speedy J singles. I still have some of those to finish off, don't I? A lot more, if I decide to ever spring for all of his post-2010 material on Electric Deluxe and Stoor. Okay, not Stoor, that label forever only for the vinyl fetishist market. The other label looks like it might have some interesting items, should I ever get the impulsive Speedy J itch again down the line.

This particular single is a bit of an outlier though. While the music within came out around the same period as Electric Deluxe's early years, neither track ever appeared there. In fact, both Armstrong and Klave came out on totally different prints, Radio Slave's REKIDS and Chris Liebing's CLR, respectably. They were paired with other tracks on those records, so likely produced as favours to those labels in giving them some Real Techno Artists Be Here cred'. Like, ol' Jochem sure didn't need to release anything on them, what with his own labels already up and running.

It did create a bit of a pickle for Speedy, however, in that he couldn't re-issue all of his old material on Bandcamp if these specific tracks were already tied to still-existing prints, with other producers on the original flips. What do? Eh, just grab them back anyway, and release them as a brand new single, that'll do. Does that make this single a compilation then? I don't know about that, but I submitted this to Lord Discogs' tomes as one, so if They That Know All are okay with it, let's run with it.

As Armstrong appeared on Chris Liebing's label, it's small surprise the track is pretty much a heady thumper in that distinct, minimalist Liebing style. In fact, there isn't much to it at all, doing the super-gradual tension build of pounding beats with white noise washes teasing out a potential climax. It never really comes though, the loudest peak coming some two-thirds deep before fading off as though it never was. I'm sure it's an effective piece of business as a techno tool, but a little disappointing for yours truly.

Klave, by contrast, is a little more interesting, in that it treads closer to the realms of tech-house – because of course it would on a Radio Slave label. There's plenty of knob twiddling on reverb and flange effects, which keeps the track evolving for its ten-minute duration, but not much else goes on with it. Frankly, I found the fact the record Klave appeared on had Chris Liebing on the flip more intriuging in a funny sort of way – you'd think that would have been the case with Armstrong, wouldn't it.

So pretty much just a couple functional tracks, but one neat thing did emerge from this session: my discovery that REKIDS has gone techno retro! No, seriously, Radio Slave, the guy who broke out with epic tech-plod tracks, has been making ol' school rave tunes in recent years. As always, everything old become new again!

Public Energy - Three 'O Three

Probe Records: 1992/2021

Hey now, don't look at me that way. I was one-hundred percent truthful when claiming completion with Speedy J records at this end of my alphabetical queue. I said nothing about any other of his aliases! Haha, gotcha', hook, line, and sinker! Unless you already saw this joke coming, though I'm not sure how. The original title of this EP was after the two tracks on the A-Side, Hemi-Sync, but for some reason, Jochem re-issued it on Bandcamp titled with the lead track on the B-Side, Three 'O Three. Maybe he felt it the superior cut out of all four tracks? Only way to find out is to dive right in, yo'!

As a record being released on the harder offshoot of Plus 8 Records, Hemi-Sync (Part 1) definitely fits the bill. There isn't anything fancy about it, just a steady thump of a kick, some fills that drop into an industrial grinder, little bleepy leads rotating in and out throughout the duration. One of those leads sounds suspiciously like The KLF's What Time Is Love, but it's so brief and muffled, I can't be certain. Wouldn't surprise me though, as I'm sure it was a highly common sample in the year 1991.

Speaking of brief, the track is but a mere four minutes long, which may as well be a progressive house epic compared to the svelte Hemi-Sync (Part 2), clocking in just over three-and-a-half minutes long. Heck, you could be fooled into thinking it's half that length too, as there's a one-second pause right in the middle of the track! Given Part 2 is little more than a drum tool, I'm sure DJs could have a lot of fun with this, but there isn't much else to it. Still, if folks ever complained about Speedy J's turn to the 4am warehouse bosh in the new millennium, here's proof positive he always had an ear for minimal techno functionality.

Anyhow, here's Three 'O Three, the track given the re-issued spotlight. This just might be the third dumbest thing Jochem's ever made. Not Pull Over dumb, thank God, but it's about as blunt an acid techno workout as you could make in the olden days. The beats are nothing more than a hardcore stomp, there's enough hi-hat action keeping things busy, and the TB-303 tweaks in suitable fashion. Again, more of a tool than a track. Mind, it's not like the fourth track on this EP, B.S.G. (Binaural Signal Generator), is any more brilliant in the beat department, but it at least has something of a hook going for it, plus more of a 'song' progression, such as early '90s bangin' techno could have.

Review wrapped, I'd like to take a moment to mention the passing of an old friend, Ritchie Banipal. We weren't especially close, mostly keeping contact through Facebook in recent years, but had many memorable times together during our Canadian hinterland raving days, memories I'll always cherish. I will miss your sharing of “fotos”, Ritchie.

Speedy J - Patterns (Remix) / Pannik

Plus 8 Records: 1997/2021

Fair warning, we're gonna' be dealing with a lot of Speedy J within this upcoming block of 'P' titled releases. Mr. Paap really likes him some 'P', it seems. You'd think it would be 'G', what with his first two albums titled Ginger, and G Spot, but when it comes to singles (and one album), 'P' reigns supreme. Why are you all sniggering? You'll see what I mean by this love of 'P'!

Patters was one of the few – okay, only – singles to emerge from Speedy's third album, Public Energy No. 1 (see!?). There also was a promo record with some tracks, including Pure Energy, but as for official spin-offs, this was about it. Not that it's a surprising thing, Jochem seemingly hesitant to tie singles to albums most of the time. Ginger only got one, as did G Spot. And though Loudboxer had a couple, it made sense there since that album's nothing but techno tools in need of vinyl options.

Speaking of Loudboxer-era Speedy J, does this record ever foretell that turn of style for Jochem. Yes, even more than the other ones I've probably said. Patterns itself is a remix, seemingly a bridge between the more melodic IDM he was doing before, and the abrasive stuff he'd indulge more frequently as the '90s wore on. Calm, tranquil, sometimes distorting drone pads give us a lengthy lead-in before Mr. J' starts unleashing all manner of crunchy, boshing, frantic drill-n-bass rhythms, letting you know this ain't no Fill session. There's a storm a' brewing, folks, and as if to sell that notion just a little harder, here's some climatic orchestral string sections building the tension to a damn near fever-pitch. The final release of sonic noise is worth the wait, but doesn't last as long as you'd hope, over almost as soon as it began. Dammit, I wanted to really get my flail on there.

Ask, and you shall receive. Except I didn't ask, but that Speedy, he knows what we need, don't he. Pannik is a pure Detroit mininalist techno bosh cut, and lasts ten minutes! Okay, maybe not the longest track of such nature, but certainly an epic in Jochem's discography to that point, much of his early techno was straight-forward and of unfussy lengths. Not this one, taking you for a head-pounding, foot stomping ride with all the crashing snares and cymbals you can handle from the dude who did The Oil Zone. He'd already been dashing some expectations after the Ni Go Snix EP, but I doubt anyone would have expected him to go this dumb with techno again. Yeah, it's a 'smart dumb' kind of dance music compared to some of his actual early 'dumb' hits, but still.

Punnik, meanwhile, goes longer, cranking the feral energy up even further. Rhythms are broken, with distorted sounds and reverb making this sound like it was produced in an oppressive Detroit factory. The primal techno beatings will continue until morale improves.

Chris Liebing & Speedy J - Metalism

NovaMute: 2005/2021

Post Loudboxer Speedy J is mostly new territory for me, but it's not like I don't know what I'm in for. Being in the throes of European tastes, Mr. Paap didn't have much choice falling in with either 'shranzy' or 'minimal' stylings. Not wanting to go it alone though, the mid-'00s kicked off his Collabs Period, a string of singles pairing up with many movers and shakers of the more pummelling side of the genre.

These being vinyl, I naturally never got any of them, and since none of them were consolidated into any sort of CD compilation, the series passed me by. Fool on me though, because there was a single, lone compact disc option released from this exercise, a full-length album between Mr. J and one Chris Liebing called Collabs3000, sub-titled Metalism. Which is what it's formally known as now on Speedy's Bandcamp page. Like, I probably would have nabbed this had I ever spotted it a shop when it came out, but actual music shop options for techno CDs were a quickly dwindling enterprise in jolly ol' Vancouver in 2005. Gotta' settle for Joel Mull's The Observer instead.

I don't want to burn too much word count going over Mr. Liebing here, as this wasn't their only collab' in these Collabs sessions, but just in case you need a quick refresher/overview... You know that distinctly hard, loopy, bangin' brand of techno that emerged at the start of this century? Chris was one of the forefront promoters of this sound, rinsing out on the regular in German clubs, even getting the nod as one of that country's top DJs. That Jochem would fall in with him after Loudboxer was probably inevitable.

After a requisite ambient-noise intro (three minutes worth!), Metalism kicks off with Modish Ride, and... woof, did this ever worry me something. I know Liebing and J were going for something a little more experimental here, but not right out the gate, and certainly not with a rhythm that feels like it's tripping over itself. Follow-ups Triflon and Hilt triggered me further, clear bandwagon jumps on the growing minimal trend with all manner of annoying clicky, glitchy, white-noisey nonsense and a plodding tech-house groove. Fortunately, the lads say nuts to all that right after, giving us a run of relentless techno bosh. Tunox gives us the furious octane, Acid Trezcore unleashes the 303, and Cream 3 slows things down again, but pummels you with a noisy assault of a build.

Come to think of it, Misters Liebing and Paap sure do love themselves some noise. Eventide is technically an ambient piece, but it sure is a noisy one. Lava is pure Loudboxer action, and just as noisy while doing so, while closer Assault is twelve minutes of minimal dub. Okay, not so noisy, that one. Don't worry though, Metalism throws in a bonus, noisy live performance of Tricko, with all the crowd noise you can handle. Eh, I liked this idea better mid-album as Krikc.

Speedy J - Krekc

NovaMute: 2001/2021

Aww yeah, finally returning to Loudboxer-era Speedy J. Enough with the early forays into Detroit techno, or the critically heralded indulgences into 'intelligent dance', let's get back to the years when Mr. Paap stopped giving a fuck and simply ripped shit up. On the dancefloor, I mean. And what better track to get us back to the relentless bangin' techno than the single that not only led into Loudboxer, but kicked off the album's pummelling second half, Krekc.

What else needs to be said about it? It's straight-forward bass kicks and rumbling bassline for a solid ninety seconds, hi-hats, snares, and other assorted percussion building in layers, occasionally ebbing so other propulsive noises squall in the background. It's positively unyielding, letting the energy climax out with barely a sputter at the end for the quick mix-out. It's a track intended for 4am techno, played at the peak of a set. No, seriously, even in the year 2001, there weren't many tunes that went as hard as this one did. Or at least, not released by as Very Important person in the world of techno as Speedy J was at the time.

I do still wonder how folks took this turn of events. I first heard Loudboxer when it was new, and it was certainly something of a shock, having only been familiar with Jochem's G-Spot era of music making. I missed out on the two albums between, to say nothing of any singles floating about, but even stuff like Electric Deluxe couldn't have prepared folks for just how hard Krekc would go. Like many genres out in clubland though, bangin' techno was seeing something of an arms race in the early '00s, where the need to go bigger and bolder was necessary to remain king of the heap. Then everyone got old, knees weary, ketamine the preferred drug of choice, and we all know what happened to techno after that.

Anyhow, another track on this single that appeared on Loudboxer is Krikc, if only partially. This was the tune that was featured as a live snippet, and quite frankly cemented the album as the propah' warehouse experience it was being sold as. Nothing like a little crowd whooping and cheering to sell that 'in the moment' vibe, amirite? This track is even more bonkers than Krekc, basically all looping percussion and flange effects, with heavy emphasis on those mid-range snares as the bass drum thrums along. By comparison, third track Krakc is almost quaint, much slower in tempo, and rather deliberate in how it progresses in layering it's various loops. Even if it's at a pace more typical of traditional minimal techno, there's still plenty of crunchy sounds and flange effects in making this a worthy companion piece to the high-octane Krekc and Krikc.

So there you have it: Krekc, Krikc, Krakc, three tunes of- Wait a moment... are the titles of these tracks a Dutch play on Rice Krispies onomatopoeia...?

Martin Allin - Impact Release

Neotantra: 2021

Now here's an odd one. Yes, I claim that about a lot of releases – when one has covered upward of around two-thousand items, odds are favourable that a few of them will be 'odd'. Claiming a Neotantra release as being odd is a stretch though. Their ambient manifesto is quite clear and concise, with packaging simple and clear. Seldom does the music within indulge conflicting tonal contrasts or extreme experimentation – by this point, you pretty much know what you're gonna' get out of one of their CDs. And yet, Martin Allin's Impact Release is odd because of its CD, or at least its packaging. For some reason, it's different from its digital counterpart, an almost black navy blue, whereas the latter is much brighter. Even the image preview on Bandcamp features a digipak much closer to the digital colours than what I have in my hand.

Did something go wonky at the printing press, certain colours running out on the assembly line? Are there perhaps a select few 'alternate' versions of this CD floating about now, which will command insanely inflated collector's market prices for a copy? Yeah, yeah, it's silly hyper-focusing on such a thing, but when a label makes colour gradients its distinct and only feature in the artwork, minor incongruities tend to leap out at you. At least Neotantra has evolved to include unique photography for its cover art in recent months.

Anyhow, Martin Allin. There isn't much information on him out there in internetland, so I assume he's a relative newcomer to the ambient-osphere. His Discogs page is basically blank, this album and a couple Neotantra compilation contributions the extent of his discographical data. His Soundcloud page does offer a few more items, but far as I can tell, Mr. Allin hit the road running, getting signed to the label shortly after going public with his musical works.

And what brand of ambient do we have ourselves with Impact Release? Mostly minimalist, lowercase forms, with echoing field recordings, soft pad drones, analogue fuzz and generally unassuming, background sonic padding. It's all rather like Andrew Heath (to namedrop another lowercase composer I've covered), though remixed into the deepest meditation vibes you can imagine. Some pieces, like Homeostasis Friend Weather, Your Father And Nature, and Frustrating, are almost nothing more than ethereal wisps of sound, occasional thrums of synth tone and echo drops the only reminder of a CD still playing. Yet even when there's barely any music at all, Martin Allin somehow sucks you in just the same.

The last couple tracks - I Am Grateful To Her For That Lesson and Merry The Mountain - add actual rhythms. Though they're little more than basic dub techno beats, compared to the utter ambience in the rest of the album, these might as well be storming tech-trance beasts. They honestly almost cause me mental whiplash, being so completely zoned out on the near sonic-nothingness leading up to them. Impact Release indeed.

Various - Fabric 69: Sandwell District

Fabric: 2013

I've feigned surprise over some of the Fabric CDs that ended up on the used market, but I cannot deny legitimate shock at this one. I'll grant recollection's a bit hazy nearly a decade on, but wasn't Sandwell District's contribution to the series hailed as one of the 'crowning achievements' or something? For sure I remember a lot of hype and promo surrounding it because, goddamn, how are you gonna' forget cover art looking like this? Almost as striking as that one with the octopus on a dude's head. More than that though, most of the major 'zines covered fabric 69, so how could one not just assume Sandwell District was a Very Important conglomerate in the world of techno?

Actually, I'm not sure how accurate that is. Yeah, the label developed a feverish cult following throughout the '00s, but you can say that about any ol' techno label. The main players within the group – Karl O'Connor, Peter Sutton, David Sumner, and Juan Mendez – had all been involved in '90s minimalist techno one way or another (aliases Regis and Function the most famous of the lot). They certainly cultivated a particular sound on their label, keeping the classic, cavernous minimal style alive while other scenes became obsessed with Ableton micro-edits and white noise wank. Then, as Ostgut Ton overtook everything, Sandwell District looked primed to join them as brothers-in-arms. Except they disbanded soon after, everyone going their separate ways, some retreating from the spotlight altogether. And hoo, what a more perfect way to crystallize that cult status than that, eh?

Maybe that's why I've seen mostly lukewarm responses to fabric 69. Fans of Sandwell District wanted an exclamation mark on their legacy, a triumphant modus operani that solidified everything they held noble and true about the group. What they got instead was an interesting minimal techno mix that's more about audio space and head journeys than anything worth rinsing out at 4am on a Sunday morning. At least, that's what I assume fans of Sandwell District wanted.

But enough of that. What's important here is what I think of fabric 69. Me, someone who really only knows of the Sandwell District legacy in passing mention. It's a'ight, I guess. I can't be certain this was the case, but it sounds like each member got to have their own little mini-set within the greater whole. Things tend to reach a narrative mini-conclusion a few times as the CD plays, resetting shortly after for a slightly different techno build while retaining a stylistic Sandwell vibe throughout.

Some tracks like Mary Velo's Detune, Carl Craig's Darkness, and Untold's Motion The Dance work as centrepieces while bits and pieces of others (too many to list) are used as the mixing glue linking everything together. It honestly took me a couple listens for this one to sink in, so I can understand how fabric 69 may have been initially off-putting for some. Even such that they'd be willing to offload it for a fiver.

Mohlao - Landforms

Silent Season: 2017

This album feels like Silent Season going back to its earliest dub techno roots. No, earlier than Pacifica. No, earlier than the first Wandering Compilation. I'm talking those initial digital singles, before they added Pacific northwest artwork, giving the label its distinct style. Back when dub techno was more a hot trend than a way of life, erm, a brand to build a label out of. And while Silent Season wouldn't outright abandon the sound, more elements of ambient and melody would continue creeping in, such that the more clinical mid-'00s style became a mere afterthought.

In the back-burner the genre was kept though, such that when Silent Season started feeling that vinyl itch, it made sense to release techno tools of this sort in the format. There was even a ten year anniversary roll-out of numerous vinyl, letting folks know they were serious about providing fresh material for the black crack fiends who'd been clamouring for the format. Naturally, I skipped out on all these because I don't buy vinyl, yet held out going digital just in case Silent Season opted for a CD option at some point down the road. That still hasn't happened, and I guess I'm just deluding myself into thinking it ever well happen – this label isn't really known for its re-issues. Very well then, some digital buys of items I've missed, then.

And Landforms from Mohlao felt like a no-brainer for yours truly. Artwork reminiscent of Ultimae's forays into geological porn, dorky track titles like Rotar, Neptune, and Vector, a relative unknown I get to discover. The man behind Mohlao, Samuel van Dijk, has a few aliases under his belt, VC-118A leaning more Detroit, while Multicast Dynamics treads into abstract ambient drone. So behind these and Mohlao's dub, you have a nice trifecta of techno from mister van Dijk, none of that trendy business bosh.

We even get a taste of the experimental stuff with opener Rotar, where a bunch of drippy, minimal sounds slowly emerge over the course of two minutes. The arrival of a subdued rhythm just adds to the sparse arrangement, this track all about the noises that are barely there. Follow-ups Voltool One and Neptune do more to get things moving along, but even then these are dub techno tracks more as tools than music.

Some traces of backing melody do make their way into this album in tracks like Vector and Outline (ooh, big synths!). This mostly alternates between pure dub techno works, and while not bad, doesn't really do much to ignite this album beyond an exercise in functionalism. I cannot deny this left me a little wanting, Silent Season releases typically offering more than that. Like that titular closer, that's the sort of floating headspace dubby techno I wanted to hear more of.

I dunno. It just feels weird coming away from any release on Silent Season with such lukewarm feels. There's 'returning to the source' but maybe it's not best going all the way back.

Frame - The Journey

Glacial Movements Records: 2019

No way I could resist an album like this. The cover art alone invokes so many sonic possibilities, all of them frigid, remote, isolated, and barren – perfect summer music! And gosh, it looks like the whole label is like this, with familiar names like Rapoon, bvdub, Chihei Hatakeyama, Scanner, and Skare. Hello, my new obsession!

With no frame of reference, I went into this one cold (puns for days!). Doing a little background reading wouldn't have helped much anyway, this being Frame's lone entry within Lord Discogs' tomes. The players involved have been around many, many years though, with releases dating back to the early '90s. Andrea Benedetti was among the earliest adopters of Detroit techno out of Italy, heading up a few labels in support of such sounds at the time. He's also released sporadic material as Sprawl, but it seems DJing has been his primary passion. His Frame partner, Eugenio Vatta, has even less info on his Discogs page, but apparently has worked with Andrea since ye' olden days as well, skint though those releases are.

Apparently Frame is something of a long-running live P.A. project of improvised gigs performed at artsy shows. They never committed anything to CD, figuring the spontaneity of a live performance couldn't be replicated within a studio. That didn't stop them from recording many sessions though, building up a library of material for possible consideration. Thus it turned out with The Journey, an attempt at creating some sort of narrative from these disparate performances.

Ah, a journey as in the journey Andrea and Eugino have taken as Frame over the years? Sort of, but that'd make for a boring concept album. Ah, so a journey to the frozen clime's of our planet, as indicated on the cover art? No, not that either. Going by the tracklist, this is nothing less than a journey to the cosmic reaches of... just our solar system. Well hey, plenty to explore here.

Truthfully though, Frame opts for the ultra-minimalist scenic tour. Often played real quietly too. Things start out rather typically for a dark drone outing, Mercury imparting a foreboding tone, while Venus brings in creepy, echoing rattlers while static hisses in the background. Almost feels like you're in a steamy, sticky hot jungle, which kinda' makes sense for the Hell planet.

Things go extremely minimal after that though. Heck, most of Mars' eight-minute runtime is just a sustained tone (oddly relaxing mood for the War planet). From there, a lot of abstraction, a lot of experimentation, all played impossibly quiet, such that the sounds often fade into whatever background ambience surrounds you. Yes, even when played on headphones – the sound of your own heart beating may be louder than some of this stuff. It's not until Neptune that something harmonic emerges, with synth pads gradually building, while Pluto And Charon goes more industrial. And hey, The Arrival finally gives us some actual melody! Hoo boy, what a journey to get to it though.

Various - fabric 11: Swayzak

Fabric: 2003

When last I talked up Swayzak on this here bloggity-bloog of mine, I made passing wonderment over how their fabric mix sounded. In fact, I wanted to start a proper dive into their discography, and figured rounding up the rest of their DJ mixes would make for a good start. Um, this is about it. Yeah, Misters Brown and Taylor weren't really all that interested in the commercial mix CD market, and judging how their two primary outings fare, it's not hard to hear why: they just can't be fussed with the technical aspects of DJing.

For sure they can do all the blending and syncing and balancing if they want to - Groovetechnology V1.3 had plenty of sublime minimalist mixing going on. Sometimes though, a tune deserves to be played out in full, with a transition into something so different it defies anything other than a crossfade, so long as the music remains thematically consistent. Such is the domain of the mixtapes and third room 'chill' zones, of which Swayzak was quite familiar with in the early '00s.

Not that the fabric brand hadn't shown wilful genre hopping in the past, though that was more the purview of the Fabriclive offshoot. The mainline series generally stuck things out with tech-house in its early years, with occasional dalliances into deep house, electro or techno. Swayzak's offering was the first time fabric really stretched beyond such narrow confines, bringing in micro-house, disco punk, reggae dub, and even proto-fidget under one mix. Which probably isn't that big a deal, since we're still quite early in the series' lifespan, and couldn't ignore Fabriclive's eclecticism for long.

Cheekily, Swayzak open things up with a little Negativland, with the cheeky sampling of a doomsday cult rattling off all the evil rock bands of the era (which Fatboy Slim cheekily nicked himself). Michael Jackson, Tina Turner, Prince, Madonna, Billy Idol, Neil Young, David Bowie, Queen, Adam Ant, Billy Joel, The Police, Huey Lewis, “Weird” Al, and many more... heathens, all!

From there, fabric 11 carries on about as you'd expect of a Swayzak set from this era, chaps like Luomo, Mathew Jonson, and Akufen making the rounds. Midway though, things take a turn for the mixtapey, Röyksopp's slinky, dreamy rub on Felix da Housecat's What Does It Feel Like? played out in full. Then it's a crossfade to Rockers Hi-Fi's Push Push (yay!), blending into... Hey, Ciccone Youth! I recognize that name! Anyhow, here's LCD Soundsystem's homage to aging hipsterism, Losing My Edge, played in full.

Things kinda' jump all over the place afterwards, with sorta-electro (MMM's Donna), sorta disco punk (DFA's rub on Metro Area's Orange Alert), sorta-actually '80s synth-pop (Thomas Dolby's One Of Our Submarines), finally finishing off with ultra-twee bell-house from März. Pantha Du Prince likely heard this. They're fine tunes, but I can't deny hoping for something more consistent for a finish. Hard to top Losing My Edge though. Set peaked too soon!

Damon Wild - Cosmic Path

Infastructure New York: 2017

Damon Wild is the man behind Synewave, a very important label in the world of acid techno. While the Stay Up Forever posse were the main drivers of the sound in Europaland, Synewave kept the acid strong Stateside, all the while paying the usual homages to Detroit minimalism (as one must when making techno in America). The label had its niche, but because New York City wasn't really known as a techno-town, it never got quite the same exposure as the big prints out of the mid-west. So they kept chugging along, and Damon kept releasing records, on his own and as part of numerous collaborations, including with The Pump Panel. Yeah, that Pump Panel, though he didn't have a hand in their most famed remix. He was involved with their breakout single Ego Acid, so there's that.

Yet in all his years of releasing records, he seldom went the LP route. That makes some sense, the brand of techno he produces not really fit for the album experience. Still, sometimes a chap has more inspiration for a concept that just can't be sated with a 12” or two, so in the year 2017, nearly two decades after his first album Somewhere In Time, Damon Wild released his fourth LP, Cosmic Path. At this rate, he'll hit album ten by the mid-21st Century.

Naturally, I knew none of this going in. I only got this CD because I spotted it in the Ultimae Records shop, and thought it an interesting item based on cover art alone. Ah, the ol' impulse buy classic, never gets old. Thus I thought I might be in for some spaced-out goodness, and we do get that of a sort. I just wasn't expecting Cosmic Path to be so resolutely Detroit minimalist. Then again, Ultimae does host some Ostgut Ton records too, so I shouldn't be that surprised techno of this sort is there.

Still, I couldn't help but be surprised by how tracky this album is. It starts fine enough, opener 1242 all ominous drones and bleepy sounds, then Aquarius takes us off with a good thump of a rhythm, bassy pings and pongs echoing from deep space, and retro-futurism pads setting you off on cosmic bliss.

Following that we get a lo-o-ong stretch of that aforementioned Detroit minimalism. Looping techno beats, bleepy spacey sounds and not much else. It certainly sets a suitable mood, but feels like I'm listening to a run of warehouse tools. It isn't until track ten, Light that something resembling melody returns, thanks to more spacey backing pads. A couple tracks later, Space Race goes electro, and final cut Friday's Orbit slows things down some. Unfortunately, when so much of the preceding album is dedicated to faceless techno functionalism, such variety is too little, too late.

These aren't bad tracks, many of them reminding me of Planetary Assault System's recent offerings. They'd probably be better served as a continuous mix though, as most techno of this vein does.

B12 - Bokide 325

Soma Quality Recordings: 2015

Steve Rutter and Michael Golding gained a decent amount of prestige with their B12 alias back in the '90s, so the story goes. Before that decade ended though, their partnership with Warp Records ended, and seemingly too did the project. Nearly ten years after their final record, however, the duo re-emerged with a new album on their own label, plus a bevy of archive material. Guess someone was paying attention to FSOL's marketing strategy. In any case, it looked like the B12 saga was primed to carry on into the '10s. Except it didn't, Last Days Of Silence instead serving as a cap on their careers, the duo going quiet once more.

Except that's obviously not the whole story, since I've talked up B12 and Steve Rutter's continued exploits quite a bit on this blog. I bring all this up only to put into context where this particular EP stands, as the re-relaunch of the B12 brand, appearing on a totally different label. Oh yes, we're in the 'wandering label' years with Steve Rutter, before he got FireScope off the ground. I mentioned in the Transient Life review that this may have been a means of shopping B12 around after being absent from the techno scene again, but whatever the case, I find it fascinating that his first port of call ended up being on Soma Quality Recordings.

The label that Slam built were no strangers to techno, but vintage 'intelligent techno'? Aside from their signing of The Black Dog, not so much. As Soma was never shy from hitching its wagon to whatever trends were happening in the genre, they were fully committed to the purveying bang-on Berghain style by the time B12 entered their sphere. Was there room for a little slice of pure Detroitism in their catalogue then?

I don't think it even matters, because Bokide 325 is downright minimalist for a B12 outing. I don't mean 'minimal techno', for the classic sci-fi bleeps and IDM bloops are present, just performed in a chill, unassuming way, as though soundtracking the lonely traverses of interstellar flight. Not the usual fare from what folks familiar with B12 then, much less Soma's typical output at the time. Would have made more sense on De:tuned than Transient Life, is what I'm saying. But hey, at least Soma could claim to have had another Artificial Intelligence alum on its roster.

Particulars, then. Into The Void is an aptly named opener, lonesome, mysterious pings echoing through the emptiness before a simple electro beat and ominous synths join in. Descension gets a little busier in the rhythm department, but maintains the general mood and minimalist songcraft. Unsound Mind adds a little acid action, and closer Terra Incognita strips things right back to mysterious pads, spare beats, and subtle bleeps. All said, Bokide 325 is an interesting little EP of dark space electro from B12, but hardly the sort of dancefloor weapons Soma was churning out. A strange addition to Slam's label, all said.

Various - Berghain 05: Marcel Fengler

Ostgut Ton: 2011

Yet another item I attained after doing that which I never, ever did: following the recommendation of a Resident Advisor 'Best Of' list. It was 2011, see, a year I was slowly crawling out of my 2010 funk, but not terribly enthused about digging about on my own. Such lists are handy for such folk, and from the quick samples I heard from Berghain 05, it sounded promising enough for further inspection.

And what I'd discovered was techno had seen some upheaval in the past few years since my last serious forays into that scene (during the dark times, during the MNML). I'd heard a few items to that point, mostly out of the Ostgut Ton camp as well. Still, I needed something a little extra to convince me the scene had indeed moved on, a definitive statement that the plinky-plonk monotony of the decade prior had truly been put to pasture. And what better series could there be than the one in service of the club most responsible for the shift in clubbing taste? None better series than Berghain, so I was told.

The chap tasked with handling the fifth edition of the series is Marcel Fengler, a resident of the famed club during its peak years of prominence. He never gained the same level of critical prestige as others from that era (Dettman, Faki, Klock), but had a respectable following just the same. Then... something happened? Some sort of falling out and parting of ways between the club and he? I don't know about that, but I do notice all his releases are scrubbed from the Ostgut Ton Bandcamp page. Whatever, I'm here to review a DJ mix from before all that.

Marcel opens his set with over-dubbed vocals, then explodes into shimmery synths that... okay, isn't trance, but sure is a lot more melodic than anything I'd expected from techno in those days. You got my attention, Mr. Fengler. Oh, you're doing the minimal thing for a bit after, aren't you. Well, it's acidy and dubby, crunchy minimal techno – the vintage Berghain sound – so that's fine by me. Sweet, there's even an L.B. Dub Corp rub worked in there too. I sure likes me some L.B. Dub Corp, so rare as it is.

From there, things settle into more of a Detroit groove, or Europeans trying to do a Detroit groove. Just kidding, there's some authentic Motor City alum in this mix too, such as Claude Young (though hanging out with Japanese guys by this point) and, uh... Okay, for some reason, I thought acts like Skudge and Ben Sims hailed from this side of the Atlantic, but I was wrong. Don't matter, there's enough spacey future-funk and techno-stomp in this set to fake it until they make it (to DEMF). And hey, there's a Convextion track to end on, long before when Gerald Hanson properly unearthed the project. That counts close to a proper Detroit closer, don't it?