Jiri.Ceiver - Head.Phon

Harthouse: 1995

Jiri.Ceiver strikes me as one of those techno producers that could have gone down as Very Important, had things gone just slightly differently for the chap. For sure appearing on Sven Väth's lauded Harthouse print gave him plenty of exposure, but he had some tough acts to follow from the label's opening salvo (Hardfloor, Spicelab, Der Dritte Raum, Alter Ego, Koxbox). Couple that with the fact Frankfurt's brand of techno was coming off a tad dated by 1995, the blistering BPMs and hypnotic melodies falling out of favour in lieu of the functionalist warehouse tools Detroit and Berlin had started cranking out. Harthouse was finding ways of adapting with these changing trends, stating they sought producers on the cutting edge of “creativity and experiments that do not necessarily originate from the Techno/House scene.” - essentially an “idea tank”, though clearly they couldn't commit full-stop to the manifesto, the IDM wonks leagues beyond anything Väth's label would churn out.

Head.Phon comes close though, for good and ill. One Arno Paul Jiri Kraehahn was already an odd sheep out of the Harthouse flock, his debut single Multiplex a weird mishmash of Frankfurt techno and bleepy electro. He followed that up by getting deeper into the acid action (Hardfloor's influence was inescapable), but eschewed anything remotely resembling a hook or melody in the process. He was on a mission to feed you weird machine sounds whether you liked it or not, functionality be damned. Hey, not a bad idea, as techno had gained a reputation for being dominated by mechanical fetishism, though always in a far-flung futuristic aesthetic, not as a contemporary sound – wasn't that what Industrial was for anyhow?

Maybe Head.Phon would have been better received with that in mind, making no illusion you're in for a challenging trip into the experimental side of techno. Half the tracks are sonic doodles and abstract noises, some like Isolate, Retrospect, Sleeps, and Tne Poise so minimalistic and quiet you'd be forgiven in thinking the CD had prematurely stopped playing. What even is the point of these? I'm not gaining any deeper appreciation for electronic abstraction with them, and musique concrete was hardly in need for a revival in the '90s when so much else kept pushing electronic music forward. They honestly come across as begrudging filler to reach a full-length album, as the main techno cuts weren't enough.

And as for these, they're a strange, esoteric bunch. Hvb and Vacui offer up bleepy, squelchy Frankfurt acid, Trental400/5 is eight minutes of soft, minimal crunchy noises and bloopy beats, Ratio sounds like proto psy-trance of around the time, and Osiac... hey, this is actually at a reasonable pace, with reasonable acid and reasonable techno toolism. Probably could have been rinsed out ten years later if Very Important Techno DJs had the single.

But yeah, because Head.Phon was too Frankfurt for techno purists, and too weird for trance fiends, it got lost in the shuffle, as did most of Jiri.Ceiver's work. A shame.

Porya Hatami - Land

Somehow Recordings/Inner Ocean Records: 2012/2013

This is the other CD I picked up from Inner Ocean Records’ Bandcamp, completing my collection of Inner Ocean Records CDs as available through the label’s Bandcamp. And if I do some serious hunting and digging, I could get all the CDs the Calgary print released, including Jarrod Sterling’s Distance Is Relative, Void Of Sound’s Black_White, and a remix album of this particular disc too. There might be more, but Lord Discogs doesn’t suggest any, so I’ll take it that’s all Inner Ocean made before transitioning to tape production and the occasional vinyl. I wonder what the cost-ratio with tapes is like. I’ll assume it’s cheaper than CDs, but seeing as how the discs are already pretty darn cheap, it can’t be by much. Is there more of a profit margin on tapes now that they have much greater hipster cred’ than in decades past, folks willing to pay more than the ‘free handout’ price of before? Land of confusion indeed.

Speaking of land, here is Porya Hatami’s debut album, Land. This version on Inner Ocean is actually a reissue, the first coming out a year prior on Somehow Recordings, yet another ambient micro-label that released well over one-hundred items between 2010 and 2013, all on CD. Holy cow! Most of their material is totally new to my eyes, though a couple familiar names do crop up, among them Lee Norris’ Nacht Plank guise. Say, is that where he and Mr. Hatami first crossed paths?

Porya’s style of ambient is mostly defined by his manipulation of field recordings coupled with a delicate touch of glitch-static, soft pads, gentle pianos, twee chimes, and other manner of minimalist melodica. He even released an album called The Garden, with track titles naming off the tiny animal fauna one might find there. Land is obviously larger in scope, but even here ol’ Porya takes a moment to gaze at the very small, with closing track Bug. The melody used in this one sounds as though it could have been sampled from a toy box, including some of the creaking wood one might hear when opening it. Or that could just be recordings played in reverse. It’s all rather abstract, Mr. Hatami aiming for mood over imagery, though I do often feel like I’m chilling by a river or in a field while this plays.

Eight tracks of around six to seven minutes feature in Land, each touching upon a different idea while following a similar structure. Some go super cutesy and tender (Autumn, Sea, Snow), others more droning and abstract (Rain, Storm), and sometime they’ll mesh the two approaches (River, Winter). It all does sound rather similar though, the sort of minimal ambient that navel gazes into its micro-glitch effects to such a degree that it seldom focuses on anything of substance for long, beyond the general tone maintained. Land is a nifty little album for those who appreciate ambient’s form over its function, but does get lost in the background rather easily too.

Murmur - Undertone

Meanwhile: 2007

One more album initially slotted for a spiffy TranceCritic review that fell completely through the cracks. I had no idea what I was dealing with upon seeing that cloud covered cover. Maybe some ambient? I mean, with a name like Murmur, it was probably some really calm, soothing, clever pad work – not exactly the old website’s bread ‘n’ butter, but at least interesting enough that I’d find a few talking points worth exploiting into a cumbersome 1,000 word review. Well, none of that, Undertone turning out as one of the dub technoiest dub techno releases I’d yet heard dub techno done go in the year 2007, and there was a lot of dub techno getting all dub technoey on our asses that year, I tell you what. If we were one of those trendy online rags hyping all that dub techno bizz’ness, maybe I’d have gone through with a review, but man, was I ever drawing a blank on this one, growing tired of the endless DeepChord rip-offs and Basic Channel clones.

Still, there must be something to Murmur’s debut LP if I’ve kept it around all this time, sparing it the same indignity of a quick plummet into the Recycle Bin among so much rancid, rubbish hardstyle. Because for all its repetitive faults, I still cannae deny myself a good ol’ bit of dub reverb tickling the hairs within my ears. Plus, I’ve come plenty far in my ability to wax the bull when talking up any ol’ release now, so what fear should I have now in taking on Undertone?

Finding out more about the men behind the alias, turns out. Lord Discogs provides not a clue, a mere link to a MySpace page I’m almost certain is defunct now. Half a dozen releases are tagged to the Murmur handle, finally drying up in 2010. The print they established with Bovill, Meanwhile, continues to this day, though with a ridiculously glacial output – the music Meanwhile makes is minimal, an so is their release schedule! (haha, such waxed bull). Poking about the webs a bit further, I discovered at least four other Murmurs out there, all coming out after this one. Some of them are post rock or metal, another might be the same guys doing drone ambient but could just be a coincidence, and the fourth offers festival bangers with titles like Break Glowstix Not Hearts. Safe to say that’s someone else.

Undertone, meanwhile (on Meanwhile!), is an incredibly clinical study in minimalist dub techno’s attributes. Beats are typically soft, very few hi-hats getting in the way of all that cavernous resonance. Other tracks are your standard explorations in dub-drone, going wherever the reverb takes you. A couple tracks (Bloodclot, Slip) could work as transitional pieces in a deep techno set, but little here is intended for dancefloor rinse-out. Nay, smoke that fat blunt, throw on your best audiophile headgear, and chill the fuck out with this collection of tracks. Peace.

Galaktlan - Sinine Platoo

Kohvirecords/Carpe Sonum Records: 2002/2015

Carpe Sonum Records does reissues too? Wait, of course they do. I already reviewed one of them, Gabriel Le Mar’s Stripped - though that was but a two-year gap between digital-street date and spiffy CD re-up. And despite finishing the album way back in the yesteryears, I can’t really call Si Matthews’ Tales Of Ten Worlds a reissue either, since it never saw an actual release until Carpe Sonum tapped it. There could be more concrete examples I’m missing – I’ve only started scratching the surface of this label’s brief catalog – but I’m hard pressed to come up with a better one than Galaktlan’s Sinine Platoo. This came out way back in ye’ olde age of 2002, on the hopelessly obscure Estonian print Kohvirecords. Galaktlan was one of that label’s primary producers, though that’s not saying much. Kohvirecords released a scant twenty items over the course of a decade, featuring the likes of Uni, Barbariz, Pastacas, and Paf - names on the tips of everyone’s tongue, I’m sure.

Galaktlan was probably the most prolific of the old Kohvi’ roster. Born Taavi Laatsit, he made his debut on that label as Vonsuck, formed the group Uni with Hendrik Luuk, hooked up with Aivar Tõnso as Kulgurid, teamed up with a few more Estonians as Kismabande, and eventually found another home with SekSound. Not sure how he got roped into the Carpe Sonum continuum for a reissue for his debut Galaktlan record. Like, he wasn’t even included with that mega-ultra super-deluxe Pete Namlook tribute box set Die Welt Ist Klang! Someone at the Carpe Sonum office must have been a fan, eager to expose the (slightly larger) world of contemporary ambient techno to what the great nation of Estonia was up to in this scene many moons ago.

Some interesting things for sure, if Sinine Platoo is anything to go by. Not revolutionary or groundbreaking by any stretch, but interesting. At first I was hit with a sense of Gas 0095 déjà-vu, the first couple tracks vibing a similar scientific-music aesthetic Mat Jarvis utilized. Heck, Sulase Surm could have fit quite snuggly in that album alone. Follow-up tracks -15, Mina Kaheks and Videoton are closer in tone to the O.G. ambient techno stylee Aphex Twin spearheaded, but feature such small, skittering rhythms, I still can’t shake that Microcopics feel. Please don’t tell me folks would try labeling this as ‘glitch’ nowadays. It’s ‘micro’, yo’!

Some tracks go for a funkier, bouncy rhythm (40 000 Lampi, Klavestra), others more abrasive compared Galaktlan’s typical electro beatcraft (-15, Veneetsia). These are miniscule differences though, such that you’ll hardly notice it without paying studious attention to them – which you likely will, considering the minimalist vibes we get here. This reissue also sees a couple bonus tracks, including an even older track Num, a clicky electro thing Mille Plateaux sorts would like. Then there’s Sulase Surm Repriis, a minute-long piano piece from the way-future year of 2013. Huh, don’t get how that ties into Sinine Platoo at all.

Nacht Plank - Alien

Carpe Sonum Records: 2016

I’ve dabbled a bit into the music of the man behind the moniker of Nacht Plank, one Lee Norris. He’s one half of my introduction to Carpe Sonum proper, Moss Garden’s In The Silence Of The Subsconscious, plus he’s paired up with a couple other names I’m familiar with (Mick Chillage as Autumn Of Communion, Ishq as Ishqmatics). Yet that’s barely scratching the surface of this man’s total output. As Nacht Plank alone, Alien is something like his fifteenth LP, not to mention a half-dozen assorted collaborative albums along the way. Then there’s another dozen or so albums as Metamatics, a bushel-full of material as Norken, and a couple items under his own name as well. The man is remarkably prolific, is what I’m sayin’, and to just casually walk into an album like this one is extremely difficult. Dammit Jim-Bones, I need more musical foundation to work with if I’m to tackle Alien proper-like. How can I know whether all this abstract, minimalist ambient experimentation is the long-term Nacht Plank stylee, or just some flight of exploratory fancy on Mr. Norris’ part?

Actually, judging from his prior work, I’m pretty sure the analog experimentation is the Nacht Plank modus operani. The name alone has me thinking along the lines of Mille Plateaux or Raster-Noton material, and a quick dabbling of his earlier efforts under the moniker reveals plenty of ‘challenging’ sounds. Heck, Alien at times comes off rather nice and soothing compared to the audio assault I heard off my samplings of Broad Tape Band, though remaining firmly in the realm of abstract weirdness as such a title warrants.

What this album mostly reminds me of is the electronic sound experiments of krautrock, which isn’t too surprising considering Mr. Norris makes use of actual gear (“no computers used” the inlay proudly proclaims). Opener Arrive has me thinking of Phaedra-era Tangerine Dream with its outworld atmosphere, while follow-up Clone uses intermittent sci-fi effects as a lazy, soft synth worms and oozes about a sparse setting. Some tracks are rather short, like the gentle tones of Comune and noodly muted pads of Peace. Others reach for significant lengths in the double-digit mark, Re Kreation being the longest of the bunch at over thirteen minutes of droning tones and distant field recordings, plus a touch of Moog diddling towards the end. Closer Vision clocks in at just under twelve minutes, and has the only thing resembling a rhythm on here, what with its bobbing pulses laid underneath droning, minimalist pads. This is explored further into electro territory with a Bandcamp bonus remix (Vision (Quick Thinking)), another lengthy number at over fourteen minutes. It’s interesting, but definitely much too chipper compared to the moody tone the rest of Alien cultivates. I accept its download bonus status.

This is hardly an easy album to get into, but I doubt Nacht Plank is the sort of project with doe-eyed dance music fans in mind. If you dig ‘70s weirdness though, give Alien a try.

Marcel Dettmann - Translation EP

Ostgut Ton: 2011

Marcel Dettman, kinda’-sorta’ Important Person in the world of techno, has put out a fair share of EPs in his decade long career. I mentioned in my previous trip into his music that most agree he’s better suited to that format, his style of German-functionalist club music not one intended for sitting back at home with tea and crumpets. And I wonder if that’s what’s kept luring me back to hear his stuff, hoping to get that sense of mental transference whilst lost in his thudding rhythms, imagining myself in the throes of a legendary Berghain set I’ll never get to experience myself. Or maybe I will, if that pilgrimage to Berlin ever manifests itself. But why would I want to go all the way to Germany just to stand in line for a while, potentially being turned away when my Canadianism blatantly signals me as a tourist? They don’t like them kind ‘round Berghain, so’s I’ve head. And with so much culture to take in those lands, my time would be better served checking out other famed locales. Does Tresor still have cool techno nights? Maybe I’d luck out with a throwback Omen party! Mmm, vintage German trance…

So nay, my only hopes for the Methodical Dettmann Experience (also the name of my experiential lo-fi indie-skweee jam band) is to live vicariously through the singles he supplies. Or maybe those DJ mix CDs he puts out on market that I’ve yet to actually pick up. Why haven’t I done that yet? Reviews of them have been mostly positive, even among the staunchest critics who never got bit by the Berghain bug. Maybe I should… No, no! I’ve got enough backlog already, the last thing I need to do is add more to it. Control, control, I must learn control!

Like the sort of control I exhibited back in 2011, when my buying habits were rather skint due to lack of interest in the new and (then) now. That Dettmann fella’ though, he had some interesting music, and while I didn’t find his debut album much to get fussed about, he showcased a sound worth keeping tabs on should he move beyond the rote-loop techno-tool style of music making. It works wonders as set pieces, no doubt, and it’s always those Dettmann moments in techno mixes that kept me checking further, to hear what else he might come up with if given room to stretch.

I’ll find no answers with Translation EP though, another tidy collection of tidy loop-techno head thumpers that run between a tidy five and six minutes with little variation between. The first track, Barrier, hinted at something more, with moody, bass-heavy techno-drone and astro-chatter. Ooh, actual concept! Nope, Translation One and bleepy Translation Two going about as toolly as techno goes, though One does have some nice flange on its percussion. Last track Planning has a herky-jerky thing happening, mostly plonky and annoying for its duration. Not the techno I wished for, lad.

Various - Time Warp Compilation 07: Loco Dice (Original TC Review)

Time Warp: 2007

(2016 Update:
I didn't talk much about Loco Dice in this review, beyond the music he selected and mixed on disc. We're nearly a decade on though, and plenty's gone down in Yassine's career in that time. He continued rising in the ranks of trendy DJ circles, established his own print in Desolat, and has maintained his presence and brand in all corners of minimal and tech-house circuits. Great for when the sound was the hottest shit on the market, but it's since substantially receded, and Loco Dice's stock has... pretty much stayed right where it's always been. Never at the very top of his scene, but still popular enough that any talk of falling off is absurd. Of course, a bunch of cooler music has overtaken minimal as the fresh hotness, but Dice's brand is much too entrenched to go quietly in the night. He's here for the long haul, with whatever great or bleak expectations you expect of the chap and this sound.

As for this Time Warp set, jay-zeus was it ever a slog to trudge through again. The first disc has a nice dub groove going for a while, but is so mind-sapping repetitive I flake out on it midway. CD2, meanwhile, is engaging throughout for curiosity of whether the plonk-donk-bleh sounds can go anymore absurd. Oh indeed they can, brah'. We pretty much gave up trying to 'get' minimal after this at TranceCritic.)


IN BRIEF: Neo-chill.

The Time Warp festival in Germany is a fairly big deal. No, really it is! It’s been around for over a decade and often secures top DJ talent like Sven Väth, Carl Cox, Speedy J, Paul van Dyk, Adam Beyer, DJ Hell, Laurent Garnier, Richie Hawtin, and so on. In recent years, it’s even gone on to become as much a media arts festival as a musical one.

Still, there are a great number of folks who aren’t aware of it. This is mostly due to the fact Time Warp isn’t your typical electronic music gathering. Firstly, as most of those listed DJs will hint at, techno tends to be the focus. A few other genres are invited, of course, but this is a festival with phrases like ‘pushing the boundaries of musical innovation’ and ‘showcasing forward-thinking arts’ are gospel. Fortunately, the air doesn’t suffocate with hipster pretentiousness but Time Warp certainly doesn’t have the mainstream in mind when they promote themselves.

Anyhow, like any good festival, Time Warp provides a yearly DJ mix for folks to either remember it by or find out what they may have missed. A noticeable path towards the minimal sounds of techno has become apparent over the years and, perhaps predictably, 2007's edition has taken the full plunge. The man behind the sequencing this time out is none other than possibly one of biggest rising names in the minimal scene: Loco Dice.

I think the main thing you need to be aware of with Time Warp ‘07 is this isn’t much of a mainroom release. Sure, minimal has promoted itself as such in recent years, especially ever since most reputable magazine gave the music their official blessing. However, even though you’ll see many minimal acts headline now, this music is still primarily focused on subtlety and nuances, atmosphere and soundscapes; euphoric melodies or pummeling rhythms need not apply. Essentially, minimal is to techno what deep house is to, um, house.

Loco Dice is given two discs to work with here, each with slightly differing tone. The first is more atmospheric, with dubby sounds and the odd synth wave rolling through. Meanwhile, disc two takes us deeper into the murk, with a few token nods to the naughtier side of techno as well. His mixing is silky smooth, with transitions so unnoticeable, you’d think it was the same track playing for long stretches at a time. Actually, that’s part of the problem with this release.

Yes, it is all finely crafted. Yes, there are some nice sounds to be heard. And yes, Loco Dice does do minimal justice. However, this set is seriously flatlined from the start. It never builds any tension, it never leads to different ideas, and a lot of these tracks sound so damned similar to each other. A few of them are even separated by nearly a decade but you wouldn’t be able to tell unless you were familiar with the tunes. It either goes to show how groundbreaking Basic Channel (as Round Two here) was, or how lacking in new ideas the whole genre is. Since I’m not that cynical, I’ll go with the former in this case, but it still doesn’t help the fundamental problem with Loco Dice’s mix.

Which is this: anytime he lays down a track that could shift the set somewhere, the follow-up always brings you back to status quo. There are plenty of examples littered throughout, but probably most obvious is the way he ends Disc 1. The final track is from James Pennington’s Suburban Knight, a welcomed deviation of ice-cool electro breaks from the steady stream of soft beats the first disc was filled with. In most cases, a DJ will use the final track as a lead-off point to set the tone of the second disc. Not here though. Instead, we’re right back to square one with Jambi’s Lunar Park Blues, a track that could have just as easily fit into the beginning of Disc 1. And things again don’t differ much until the final track of CD2 either. Dice almost seems afraid to shake things up, lest he lose his hipster audience.

I’m sure there are a legion of minimal fans out there who’d argue there are massive differences between the tracks, yet their idea of a ‘choon’ moment is when the next song has a crisper hand-clap. But yes, there are good tracks scattered about: DJ Emerson’s paranoid Ring My Bell; Plastikman’s space acid Glob; the relatively funky Berlin Has No Cows from Serafin. And even if sonic surprises are few, Loco Dice’s mix does maintain its mood throughout, which at the least does make this release pleasing to throw on as background music.

The casual consumer should still be cautious with this release though. Minimal hasn’t always been the friendliest of genres to dive into but at least the likes of Richie Hawtin have made it somewhat inviting. However, Loco Dice isn’t quite as interested in appealing to such folk. This are minimal set for minimal fans who like their beats unassuming and their melodies subtle puzzles.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2007. © All rights reserved.

Hell - Teufelswerk (Original TC Review)

International Deejays Gigolo: 2009

(2016 Update:
An unforgivable, glaring omission in this review: I left out all the co-producers! No wonder those two tracks sound like throwback electro, it's Anthony Rother behind the sound deck with Hell. Of course CD2 has such a consistent vibe throughout, Peter Kruder (of he & Dorfmeister fame) lent his craft to the project as well. And whoa, Mijk van Dijk had a hand in the tech-haus tracks? I'd never have known without looking at the liner notes, these tunes some distance from the techno he made his name on in the '90s. Then again, if Hell could evolve, why not Mijk?

It's almost unfathomable that Teufelswerk remains ol' Helmut's last LP. Not that he was ever a prolific producer before, but seven years is quite the gap, with no sign it'll stop increasing, a smattering of singles all to his name in recent times. There were a couple remix albums released for this one, yet those were roughly four years after the fact. At this rate, we might see a 'cover' LP anytime now!)


IN BRIEF: Back in Hell.

I doubt DJ Hell (Helmut Geier to his elders) ever intended for his label - International Deejay Gigolo - to become the tastemaker of all things electroclash. Yet by releasing one classic record after the other, it trapped him in that genre, such that it was all folks expected of him, even though his musical career had spanned far more than sleazy electro. Still, perhaps it was a blessing disguised as a curse in the long run. As electroclash faded from clubbing tastes, so too did the impossible expectations on Mr. Geier; however, his prior success helped keep some degree of interest in his career. After all, he managed to burn a fresh trail into clubland before, and folks are always eager to see if someone can twice strike gold in this fickle business.

Well, Hell ain’t havin’ that. Having already carved out his place in the Electronic Music Hall-Of-Fame, he’s not terribly interested in being a trail-blazer again. Instead, Mr. Geier appears quite content in simply make dance music for the contemporary crowds with his own spin on the template. Yes, this means tech-haus music …er, as per his current definition of it. And since his former high-status in the scene has afforded him plenty of good-will, Hell decided to also get in touch with his indulgent side along the way.

The result of which is this here double-CD album: Teufelswerk. The Night half is primarily the tech-house trip, though with ample nods to electro-proper, New York clubbing, and robo-German fetishism sprinkled about. Day, on the hand, is a downtempo, experimental, ambient, etc. etc. trip through Hell’s muse. For now, let’s look at the Night disc.

Having not totally abandoned the electroclash, Hell brought in Roxy Music man Bryan Ferry for a little vocalizing on opener U Can Dance; however, this is mostly a solid tech-house groover that gets the album started in fine fashion. Right from the onset, you can tell there is more thought and consideration into what constitutes a good house track, as Hell doesn’t get bogged down in ‘minimal’ wankery, simply laying out his rhythms and letting the hooks weave about.

From there, it’s one solid tech-house cut after another. The robots take over in Electronic Germany and Bodyfarm² with sinister electro-tones and eerie atmospherics. There’s nods to the minimalistic takes on tech-house in Friday, Saturday, Sunday and The Disaster, which are fine for what they are, though not quite as thrilling as some of the other tracks here. Hellracer gets in touch with acid, and Wonderland dabbles in some Latin-tinged melodies.

Then, of course, is The DJ. It features Sean ‘P. Puff. Diddy-Daddy’ Combs blathering on about how DJs need to play full twenty-minute versions of house tracks, a not entirely daft suggestion. The backing track Hell provides for the monologue dips into the best vibes a sweaty New York club often suggests (whether it’s still true or not being irrelevant). This track has caused a bit of controversy for no other reason than it’s P.Diddy cussing on the monologue, but who really cares? I’m sure if the naysayers didn’t know it was Mr. Combs doing the talking, they’d enjoy it just as much as any ‘monologue-house’ tune.

If you’re going to ding Hell for anything on this disc, it can be for the fact that, ultimately, we’re not hearing anything remarkably fresh here. Not that this should come as a surprise – Hell wasn’t known as much of an innovator back in the 90s when he was still making house and techno, and now isn’t much different. Night is a competently made CD of tech-house that you’ll enjoy from start to finish, provided you fancy tech-house at all to begin with.

For the more adventurous out there, Day will definitely please. Right off, Hell channels the spirit of 70s synth composers for Germania, giving us a true ambient sonic delight with spritely melodies and trancey backing arpeggios. After that, it’s thirteen minutes of Angst, which moves from a chilled jazzy build to a second half consisting of noisy, abrasive glitches – mmm, more of the former, please.

There are a few sonic doodles and experiments scattered about the rest of Day but only three fully-formed tracks left; and even then, I Prefer Women To Men Anyway and Hell’s Kitchen are mostly about experimental soundscapes anyway. Nay, it’s on final track Silver Machine that we get a proper song again, with Hell doing one of those ‘indie-tronica’ ditties along with one Marsmobil on vocals. It’s a pleasant enough way to close out this often musically-wayward disc.

Across two CDs, Teufelswerk is hardly dull and certainly worth an investment. The only thing to be wary of is we are hearing a DJ Hell that is quite comfortable with his status in clubland, resulting in an album that prefers satisfying a personal muse rather than a general audience. The other thing too is, as a songwriter, Mr. Geier isn’t quite as strong as some of the more notable names in this field (Garnier, Craig, etc.) so those who fancy artistic indulgences might not be as impressed. Therefore, it may be wise to take Teufelswerk with a grain of salt.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2009. © All rights reserved.

Andrew Heath - Flux

Disco Gecko: 2015

Never thought I'd become an Andrew Heath fan. I was curious enough to check out his first album on Disco Gecko, if only to find out why Toby Marks would have tapped the ambient composer as the first outside artist on his label. Yet while The Silent Cartographer was a pleasant little trip through minimalist piano diddling, it wasn't the sort of music I saw myself exploring any further. There's only so much ambient I can take in, and my flag leans more towards the padded synths and dubby atmospherics than indulging the nuances of tonal harmony. Besides, I’m already hearting a Heath, and that dark, brooding Simon chap might be the jealous sort.

Then a super-mega 20th Anniversary Last Train To Lhasa bundle came out. I’ll get to details about that release at the appropriate time, but one of the surprising highlights from the package was Andrew Heath’s remix of China. It took an already mellow slice of ambient dub and led it down his minimalist tonal harmony path. For a song set in a region where such music has been practiced in perfected for ages, it makes so much blissful sense that I get the super Zen feels from it. This, mind you, from a guy who’s only remix credit is this one track! What makes it such a standout, however, is again just how different Andrew Heath’s style is compared to the remixers surrounding him, music that brings to mind art displays or quiet times in a Japanese rock garden, not groovy nights outdoors surrounded by ravers and hippies.

That was enough to keep an eye out for anything else Heath might release, and wouldn’t you know it, he’s got a fresh LP barely a year after his last, Flux. The liner notes states this music was inspired by time spent gazing at lights in the northern latitudes of his homeland Cotswolds, England. That description alone already marks this album as something quite ‘British in the meadowlands’, though you’d have to ask a resident of the realm whether that’s apt.

Flux is music almost as an abstraction, ample uses of field recordings, harmonic bell tones, and soft ethereal pads making up the bulk. Mr. Heath does let his lingering piano notes guide things along, and occasional synthy woodwinds pop in and out, but they’re far from a driving force in these tracks. Really, there’s not much drive at all, each piece content to remain relatively static for their duration (around an average of eight to ten minutes in length). It barely even sounds like compositions end or begin, as though you’re lazily floating down a creek through pastoral villages and windmill hovels. A couple pure piano pieces do break up the mood (The Darkening, Fragment on the digital version), and Ghost Box has a discordant thing going for it, but for the most part, Flux is an ambient album best served for the stillest of activities. Find a patio and watch clouds for an hour, or something.

Swayzak - Some Other Country (Original TC Review)

Studio !K7: 2007

(2015 Update:
This was the last album Swayzak produced while signed to Studio !K7. They put out another LP a couple years after, Re: Serieculture on the short-lived Japanese label Timothy Really (?), then split a short while later. David Brown carries the name now, producing techno as s_w_z_k, while James Taylor releases experimental material as Lugano Fell. Both are alright, I suppose, but clearly their best days are well behind, when they led the fashionable minimal dub surge at the turn of the millennium. Still, it wouldn't surprise me in the least if they reunited for a mini-tour. It's what all semi-popular club acts do eventually.

Obviously, their splitting turns this review totally dated, assuming the Swayzak story would have many more years. Instead, it now comes off as a last gasp attempt to stay relevant in an increasingly crowded field of minimal tech-dub house whatevers. Some Other Country has held up decently enough for the time, Swayzak already pretty darn skill at this sound when everyone else was rushing into have their piece. If it didn't interest you before though, I'd check out their earlier albums before this one.)


IN BRIEF: In the groove.

There seems to be two journalistic camps when it comes to Swayzak: either you’ve been a dedicated chronicler of their decade-long career, or you only come across them whenever an album or single happens upon your desk. It’s created an odd assortment of reviews of their material over the years, where some will cast a spotlight upon the duo as though they have just as much star power as The Chemical Brothers, while others give them a bemused warming for their ‘just quirky enough’ brand of chilled grooves. Similarly, the old faithful are still waiting for Swayzak to come correct on their potential promise, while the opposite end of the spectrum are quite intrigued by their sonic tricks. Granted, this could be said for any number of acts, but Swayzak is indeed one of those duos that could have made it as big as, say, AIR, had things been ever so slightly different.

I suppose yours truly falls somewhere in the middle of these two outlooks when it comes to the UK duo; casual fans are like that. Unsurprisingly then, my thoughts regarding their new album Some Other Country does too. I write it as I hear it: this is a solid offering that keeps the Swayzakian ship steady on course, despite an apparent lack of care regarding a destination. They seem to have had their fill of stylistic exploration and are quite content to concentrate on song writing rather than experimentation.

This isn’t to say the album is devoid of variation. Swayzak willfully jump genres with cool confidence befit of a veteran duo with their talent. Techno, dub, minimal, and even malian influences all make appearances but are seldom the driving force behind what you hear. Rather, you get the sense they had a certain song they wanted to make, then decided to add a twist to it after the blueprint was laid out to give it a little more personality. And it certainly works in that regard.

For instance, opener Quiet Life has all the requisite trappings of a blissy slice of mellow minimal house: atmospheric synths, breezy vocals from Cassy Britton, and clicky backings. All fairly standard pieces as far as this sound is concerned, yet Swayzak add just a touch of uniqueness to the song that saves it from quickly fading from your memory - in this case, an odd lifeless voice stating the title which is in stark contrast to Britton’s own lyrics.

Another example? How about second track So Cheap? I’ve a feeling Swayzak had a discussion going something like this when making it:

James: “I say, David m’chap, this is a right pretty minimal track here, but it’s missing just a bit of something else. Fancy any ideas?”
David: “Hmm... well, I had this really crazy one. I don’t know if we should do it though.”
James: “Why, what is it?”
David: “James m’boy, it’s unlike anything those mainlanders in Berlin are doing. It’ll fly in their good ol’ faces.”
James: “Blimey, I’m sold! Do tell!”
David: “I fancied throwing in an actual... melody, y’know? Oh, we’ll still do some nifty minimal effects and all that rot, but let a melody carry it for good portions too.”
James: “Oh my... Who puts melody into minimal these days? It’s just unheard of.”
David: “I know, m’boy, I know. Fak it, let’s do anyway. Might go well somewhere before that Afro-jazz thingy we got going in Claktronic.”

Heh, okay, probably not, bad English accent and all.

Still, there are other examples of the duo throwing interesting twists to what would otherwise be pretty standard tunes in the hands of others. A confounding time signature in the proto-trancey Distress And Calling; having a tragic euro-artiste styled vocal provided by indie rockers Les Fauves on top of moody slice of brooding techno (Silent Luv); big bouncy bright synths at the tail end of gripping spacey dub in They Return.

Even when they play things straighter, Swayzak craft some decidedly moving tunes. No Sad Goodbyes featuring recurring guest vocalist Richard Davis is just as stirring as anything they’ve collaborated with in the past (“Taking us back to the dark street littered with good intentions...” Lovely lyrics!).

Some Other Country isn’t the dynamic release long time fans have been wistfully waiting for, as many of Swayzak’s tricks will undoubtedly be over familiar with them at this point in their career. However, despite being executed in such a low-key manner, this is still a reasonably enjoyable album. If anything, each track offers just enough interest to keep your attention as it plays through, a feat that is unfortunately rare when it comes to electronic full-lengths.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2007. © All rights reserved

Sander van Doorn - Supernaturalistic (Original TC Review)

Ultra Records: 2008

(2015 Update:
Some credit must be given here, as Sander did embark on a different path from what everyone else was doing in trance at the time. It was still mostly rubbish, and had too many copy-cats following in step within the year, but that 'Dutch minimal' sound of his was unique, even if it was only a passing fad. As with so many of his Netherlands brethren however, ol' Doorn's become the copy-cat rather than the innovator, his recent productions mere Garrix clones with a bit of that classic Doorn bass thrown in. Predictably, his stock on the DJ Mag poll - the only important poll for Dutch DJs - has plummeted. Maybe he'll get back to his tech-trance roots now? Oh, who are we kidding, he'd totally torpedo his festival time slots if he stopped catering-

This album, then.

Riff's still a dope track, but so much of this is just a big ol' nothing of music, more so now since I can't imagine anyone playing anything off here except Doorn himself. The whole 'minimal' tangent in Dutch trance never had much success to begin with, producers quick to hop on whatever new bandwagon they could hitch themselves onto. So it goes.)


IN BRIEF: Much ado...

Lately it feels like trance producers labeled as “the future/saviors” of the genre have become a dime-a-dozen; nearly any name with some status or string of minor hits has been branded as such in recent years. Yet when Sander van Doorn broke out of nowhere a few years back, his tough tech-trance productions and energetic DJ sets hinted at the possibility that perhaps someone would finally live up to that hype. Then he released Grasshopper, and everything changed. It appeared the Dutchman had hopped on the minimal bandwagon, resulting in a plodding effects-laden wankfest of techno that split much of his fanbase. Some were looking forward to seeing where he might go with the sound, while others hoped it was just a one-off experiment. Later singles Riff and By Any Demand hinted at the former as 2007 wore on.

A year now from that polarizing single, Doorn has come forth with his debut full-length titled Supernaturalistic. It arrived with very little initial fanfare back in early March but has since gained steam thanks to the hard work of PR teams pushing it in order to maintain his star-status. However, the actual listeners remain divided as ever, as the Dutchman’s new direction appears to dominate much of the album. For make no mistake about it - musically, this is about as bare-bones as dance music gets. Doorn seems to have settled on this basic formula: introduce thumping beats, establish a simple hook, break it down and build it up with waves upon waves of effects, hit the peak, and then-

Oh, hey, that was fun. Let’s move on.

Is it really fair to criticize Doorn for being formulaic? Dance music in of itself is formulaic; I may as well complain about oranges being the color orange. Frankly, you can do plenty with formula, and even if he doesn’t stray far from it, Sander seems intent upon trying a few different things within his narrow arrangements. By Any Demand’s funky guitar lick, for instance, is certainly an attention grabber, and as a follow-up to the pounding opener-proper Riff, hints at something fresh and fun. Of course, this being the New Sander, once the breakdown/build passes and the beats drop in on us, the track-

Moving on.

From here, the musical ideas retreat further and further, as Doorn lets his techno influences dominate. There are sprinklings of trancey melodies here and there, but for the most part are held in submission. This wouldn’t be so bad if for one problem: for all the perceived dark, tough, and threatening tones Doorn supplies, the general atmosphere of Supernaturalistic falls well short of truly ominous techy vibes. It’s about as menacing as James Dean -as played by a cigarette-smoking chimpanzee (especially when compared to the 800-pound cyborg gorilla that is L.S.G.’s The Black Album, even a decade on). And when all these tracks end on such limp notes as they do after big builds filled with effects, you begin to wonder-

It’s those minimal influences.

Yeah, minimal’s aesthetic has pretty much worked its way into everything. That style, however, is built around subtlety, nuance, and status-quo. A typical minimal track seldom goes anywhere, far more content to cruise along and play with effects or atmosphere than take you on a musical journey. Sander, it would seem, wants to have his cake and eat it too; he wants to join the minimal bandwagon but is still intent on producing stadium-sized tracks. As a result, you have stuff like Grasshopper, The Bass, and Dozer, where the dooft-dooft-dooft beats pack massive punch, the effect-builds are epic, yet there is little release after it all goes down. It’s like Doorn’s trying to make concert-sized anthems out of minimal. Heh, leave it to the Dutch-

I heard some of you enjoy good hooks.

The strongest melodies are found in a couple of tracks that are little more than interludes (Lobby; Outrospective), and aren’t really worth getting into since Doorn doesn’t seem interested in going anywhere with them. However, when he’s not dickering around with effect-builds that amount to nothing, Doorn does come correct with stuff that’ll get right in your head. The riffs found in Apple and, er, Riff are great, such that they have power even when Sander somewhat scales things back in the second half of them. And many of the other offerings on Supernaturalistic contain strong opening ingredients before they are squandered afterwards. If anything, a capable DJ could use nearly any track here as an effective tension builder in their sets, provided they drop a track with some proper direction right afterwards. In that sense, though, it makes much of this album little more than glorified-

Frustrating, isn’t it.

Supernaturalistic is a lot of squandered potential. As the album wears on, the teases grow tiresome and the lack of decent dance-music release annoys. It’s fine for a few tracks but why would anyone want to sit through an hour of it is beyond me. There’s a ‘hidden’ recording tagged onto Outrospective, of the wrap-up a gig Doorn played at, and it pretty much sums up Sander’s debut: slight variations of the same thing over and over (“The Wet Bar is now closed; get out!”; “Thank you for coming, now get out!” “If you want an autograph, get in line; otherwise, get out!”), a few moments that’ll entertain (“Don’t bum-rush the stage!” - I have to admit the picture of a bunch of scuzzy, impoverished-looking clubbers rushing the stage as though Sander has food-coupons makes me giggle), maybe hinting it’s leading to a winning payoff, but ultimately amounting to nothing of consequence.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2008. © All rights reserved

Various - DJ-Kicks: Claude Young

Studio !K7: 1996

We're going way back into DJ-Kicks' history here friends. Back to the days when Studio !K7 was still mostly known for its X-Mix series and all those cool, trippy CGI video tapes accompanying them. No no, they really were cool, not dated at all. The power of retro will make it so! Ahem, anyway, the initial volley of jocks into this new DJ mix series featured a quartet of Detroit techno luminaries: Carl Craig, CJ Bolland, Stacey Pullen, and Claude Young. The first two are legends, no doubt. The third gestated within the underground for a while, but I've seen him having something of a career surge in recent years. And as for ol' Claude, man, where can I start with this guy? No, really, I'm asking that, because until this CD, I'd never heard of him before. How many Detroit Braggin' Points will this cost me?

Right, it's not entirely my fault, Mr. Young having mostly shied away from the mix CD format over the years. He’s also been all over the map regarding his album output too. Debut Soft Thru came out on Belgium Elypsia, sophomore Patterns The Album came out on Dutch Djax-Up-Beats, his third LP came care of Young’s own cynet:media print (based from UK!), and his latest effort of Celestial Bodies originates from Fountain Music in Japan. Maybe he’s got some proper Detroit vinyl under one of those many early aliases instead.

Whatever the case, folks don’t typically point to Claude Young as a legend for his productions, but rather his DJing, one of the most unique Detroit jocks to ever rock the decks. Approaching the art more from a turntablist’s perspective, he’ll often layer multiple dubplates, cutting back and forth between vinyls so rhythms mesh in ways never intended. So much poly’, mang, from tracks so minimal! Of course, in the post-Ableton era, such trickery is rather common, if not always expertly executed. Claude was doing it with the only tools any jock worth his salt needs though, and has earned all the props for it.

One of the likely reasons he hasn’t often committed these talents to the CD form is such turntablism is better suited in a live setting than recorded format. Young can pull all manner of sonic tricks from his bag, but if you’re not familiar with the tunes themselves, only an expert techno trainspotter will hear how a track changes up. Also, isn’t the whole point of turntablism the showmanship as well as the music being played?

Ah right, the music on this edition of DJ-Kicks. I haven’t talked it much, because there isn’t much to tell. It’s Detroit techno through and through (and lots of Mark Bell), going from the minimal stuff to bangin’ stuff to funkier stuff, all dope if you like your mid-‘90s techno. I found Young’s set took some time warming up, a bit heavy with the experimental cutting in the early going, but once the pace picks, hoo, it’s a fun ride, is what.

Sync24 - Source

Ultimae Records: 2007

First, I can't believe I neglected making the Carbon Based Lifeforms connection with my previous Sync24 review three years hence. Well, no, that's not true – I can believe it, because the honest truth is I had yet to explore CBL's discography proper-like. I knew there was a connection since Lord Discogs told me Daniel Ringström’s name was involved with both, but cluing in on the tasty prospects of a solo project from one of Ultimae’s top tier acts eluded my powers of clairvoyance. For, at the time of writing about Comfortable Void, I had no idea CBL were one of Ultimae’s top tier acts. I simply lacked the frame of reference to appreciate them as such (re: had yet to hear Hydroponic Garden).

Second, even with all this newfound knowledge and extra apperception for the Sync24 moniker and Comfortable Void, I remain astounded by Mr. Ringström’s first album under the guise. Not for any sort of musical dexterity or super amazing killer-combos of rhythmic, melodic, and harmonic mastery that shakes me to my calcaneus. Quite the contrary, Source is a very subdued record, relentlessly calm and quiet, with so much space between the sounds it feels like I’m Ant-Man lost in a post-modern museum. And Ultimae’s released plenty of ambient and micro-dub CDs of this sort the past few years, but Source came out in 2007! The label was still highly dedicated to expansive, widescreen mixdowns, two of their biggest releases in Asura’s Life² and Solar Fields’ Earthshine coming out later that year. You’d occasionally hear such minimalist music on Ultimae’s compilations, but almost always serving as opening tone setters or closing denouements. Aside from the groovy slice of acid prog-chill White Pixels, Ringström never lets his music rise above a simmer in liveliness or volume on Source.

It’s dub techno that encourages losing oneself in small details between the soft beats and distant pads, using some of Ultimae’s more familiar markers as guides: psy dub in Cryptobiosis, ambient techno in Biota and Mborg, moody evocative ambience in Walk On Spheres, Replicant and Suspended Animation, and heart-melting passages in From A To A and Woodland. Plus, something new was added with Memloop: dubstep! Okay, it’s closer to the Burial brand of future garage, what with those shuffly rhythms and deep sub-harmonic bass. Memloop is also so minimally produced, it barely has any relation to the genre Hyperdub was getting famous for in 2007. Yet, here it is, well before most everyone else started jumping on the dubstep bandwagon, and provided by one of Ultimae’s most unassuming records up to that point.

Turns out, the rest of Ultimae was feeling what Source did, many future releases growing ever more minimalist, dubbed out, and sparse in sound, all the while maintaining their lush production standard. It’s quite ironic then, that the follow-up Sync24 album would go in an opposite route from that, making tracks with Oomph to them. Oh, Daniel, must you go so iconoclastic with your label mates?

Magda - She's A Dancing Machine

M_nus: 2006

Magda is Madgdalena Chojnacka, a very important person in the world of techno. Because she’s a woman, see. And women don’t do techno apparently, but she does, making her important. Bunch of hogwash far as I’m concerned – the likes of Ellen Allien has long made a mark on the predominantly Boys-Only club of clubbing culture, with plenty more female jocks rising in prominence this past decade. Magda though, she had the benefit of being pals with Richie F’n Hawtin, the most very important person in the world of techno during the mid-‘00s. Despite being long time friends even before moving to Berlin, she got tagged as something of a hanger-on, also a bunch of hogwash as far as I’m concerned. So she benefited from being part of M_nus’ inner circle. At least she came out of the minimal fiasco with some integrity intact (unlike too many others I won’t namedrop).

For one thing, she never flooded the market with material, sticking to the touring circuit and letting the great M_nus hype machine do the rest. Smart idea, what with the minimal scene quickly growing flooded with plink-plonk nonsense and dry-as-dirt DJ mixes. There was always something just a little more unique about her sets though, a bit of funkiness in a typically sterile environment. Come see the cute DJ, stay because she’s got your feet locked on the floor!

When Magda finally did put her name to a physical format though, she went out of her way to challenge the norm, following in the Plastikman’s footsteps in rethinking the idea of what a DJ mix could be. She’s A Dancing Machine lists seventy-one tracks in its list, all cut, looped, spliced and Ableton’d onto a single CD. Yes, it’s minimal techno, but this is how such music is best served, using snippets, bits, and pieces for an icy cool mix. Things are constantly shifting and changing, all the while maintaining a sense of forward momentum without getting lost in monotonous effects wank. For the love of an 808, I cannot understand why so many minimal mixes don’t do this. DJs will layer once or thrice, but always in a clinical manner, seldom with the same sense of loose groove Magda employs here. I don’t doubt constructing sets of this sort takes a ridiculous amount of time, so it’s easier to just do the standard mix CD of lining up your tracks of similar genre origin. Compared to She’s A Dancing Machine though, such sets are a right bore, far too safe and predictable. Here, I’m constantly engaged by every little quick twist and turn played.

Okay, this still are mostly serious minimal techno, with all the familiar names of that era popping in. Magda’s debut mix CD won’t convince you to check this music further once you’ve long written it off. If you’ve a little curiosity over what that scene’s big fuss was though, She’s A Dancing Machine is one of the better offerings available to soak your ears in.

Tobias. - A Series Of Shocks

Ostgut Ton: 2014

I got this when it first came out, a rather rare occurrence for CDs outside my label comfort zone. The samples intrigued me though, and I figured I could review an actual recent release with a bit of hype for a change. Sure, my alphabetical stipulation placed it some distance from my then-current letter 'M', but surely I'd reach 'S' only a little later in the year. And here we are fifteen months since Tobias dropped his third LP. Um, a few unanticipated albums popped up in my collection during that time.

Still, A Series Of Shocks had enough buzz it should be a relevant album for discussion even at this late point. It’s Ostgut f’n Ton, after all, and everything they put it is Very Important Musics. Yeah, funny thing that. I don’t know how it happened, but the Berghain posse doesn’t command quite the same level of acclaim anymore. As always, I’ve a couple theories for this, one of which is interest in the über-elite club brand has waned, new audiences disinterested in their jib. On the other hand, there’s been a noticeable stylistic shift at the Ostgut camps of late, allowing things like trancey arpeggios and real melody into their repertoire after so many years of crushing warehouse techno. I, for one, welcome this development, but perhaps others aren’t so keen on it. Finally, look at what came out shortly after A Series Of Shocks: Tycho’s Awake, Todd Terje’s It’s Album Time, Efdemin’s Decay, and Vermont’s self-titled release. Poor ol’ Tobias couldn’t help but get lost in all the critical hype that went to those LPs in the following month. Let’s backtrack to that second point though. While I do admire Ostgut’s brand of audiophile techno, it isn’t something I typically seek out because it’s often just too darn tracky – tools for use on optimum club systems and not for lounging back with tea and crumpets.

Yet, with an ambient opener (Entire) that harkens back to the krautrock doodling days of trippy synth work, it’s clear Tobias has something more in mind that another round of dark bangers. Second cut Heartbeat is pretty much a neo-trance tune, a little more minimalist than Petar Dundov goes but just as groovy, hypnotic, and all that good stuff of the pseudo-genre. Elsewhere, you have dub techno loopers transmitting from deep space in Fast Null, The Scheme Of Things, and Ya Po, with a little droning dub fromTestcard for good measure. Adding some variety to the album is spritely Detroit techno track Cursor Item Only and tempered breaks action from If. Finally, your Berghain-ready weapons come care of burbling acid workout Instant and pure thumper He Said.

Of course, if you just don’t care for the cavernous sound design Mr. Freund employs, A Series Of Shocks may not be of much interest. Unlike so much of techno of this sort, however, there’s enough going on here that I’ve no problem throwing this on the home system. Fair warning to the neighbours.

Frank Bretschneider - Rhythm

Raster-Noton: 2007

Frank Bretschneider's the sort of producer I should know more about, given his long history in the realm of experimental glitch. And with that descriptor, you're likely thinking he's part of Mille Plateaux's legacy, one of their key acts at turn of the century. In fact, Frank goes further back than that, having a partnership in similar-styled label Raster-Noton where he released music as Komet before joining Mille as well. His chosen sound wasn't the sort I was actively seeking out way back when, but my so-called maturity of age has provided a measure of interest and respect of the whole 'clicks 'n cuts' scene. Thus it's only natural that my first forays into Mr. Bretschneider's discography should come when I first took my early dips within the Mille Plateaux brotherhood, which happened to be this particular album titled Rhythm. Well, not quite.

Nay, I got this from a trawling of Juno Records in search of new material to review for TranceCritic. It must have been one of the year's lean months, when hyped releases are scarce and I'd take chances on names unfamiliar to my eyes. Such was the case with ol' Frank here, and as Rhythm was filed under Juno's techno section, I thought I might end up with some kick-ass 4am bangin' shit. Oh, 2007 Sykonee, you silly naive fool, did you forget what year you were in?

That Rhythm ended up being a study in minimal beats shouldn't have surprised me, had I done a little prior back checking into Mr. Bretschneider's discography. These blind dives though, what thrills they often reveal, my uncanny sixth sense in judging albums by their covers seldom leading me astray. This LP's called Rhythm, and by God and his DJ, there's no way you can mess that up. No way at all. Except when one does.

Or rather, the Komet man's approach to this album is a strict exercise in form over function, which does fit his creative outlook, so success on those terms I guess. Dear Lord though, is Rhythm tedious: clicks, fuzz, and pops utilized in crafting beats, some low bass, and nothing else. Hell, I can't even call these 'beats', as that implies something that can latch onto your reptile brain and get you moving funky. I can hear a groove existed at some point in these tracks’ development – a hip-hop shuffle here or a breakbeat bounce there – but Bretschneider’s stripped everything down to the aforementioned clicks and such. The result is nine sterile, soulless tracks bereft of the very thing the album’s title implies should be there.

Rhythms can serve as pure head music. Just look at the spazzy braindance scene – ain’t no way folks are dancing to Squarepusher at his most insane. And I’ve heard minimalist, clicky stuff that wasn’t so dull either, though often spiced up with supplemental prefrontal cortex food (tone, hiss, pad!). Not on this album though. Bretschneider deserves another chance, but Rhythm soured me to exploring his material further anytime soon.

Various - Renaissance: The Masters Series Part 12 - James Zabiela (Original TC Review)

Renaissance: 2009

(2015 Update:
Oh yeah, I called it for sure. CD1 still sounds great, timeless, and class; CD2 is aging so poorly it hurts. Dear God, I didn't give that 'Reconstruction' of Energy Flash enough shit. What the Hell are Huggy & Newton even doing with the acid? It sounds like a sick duck quacking. And shame on you, James, for including such a crap cover in your mix. Stick to the original, mate, always. MAOR field recordings too!

Ol' Zabs returned to The Masters Series for its 15th edition, which I haven't heard. However, seeing as how he has Boys Noize follow Peter Benisch in that mix, tickle me intrigued. He's since drifted away from the commercial DJ mix market, offering up several free MP3 mixes online instead, including a running series called Paradigm Shift. While I don't doubt it's provided him a greater sense of creative freedom, it'd be nice to see him return to the mix CD scene too. Come on, Balance, grease him palms a little...)


IN BRIEF: Almost there.

So much for being ‘the next Sasha.’

Actually, that’s unfair. I doubt James Zabiela ever wanted such an association. Be that as it may though, it was a handle he earned very early in his career when he toured with the iconic British DJ, even teaching the old chap a few new tricks along the way. Then, when Zabiela paired off with Nic Fanciulli a few years back, promoters and paid journalists figured they had a new Sasha & Digweed in the making, and eagerly pushed them as such. Unfortunately, although their One + One release got reasonable reviews and the subsequent tours were generally successful, they were never able to build upon that momentum, and they’ve been in relative stasis since as hip upstarts took the limelight. Might all that early promise in Zab’s career be disappearing into unfulfilled hype?

That’s a stupid question (but oh such a tempting segue, eh?) –James’ skill as a DJ is just as competent as ever. What’s still up in the air, however, is whether he’ll ever release a mix CD that will attain the ‘classic’ status Papa Sasha has repeatedly done. On the twelfth edition of Renaissance’s Masters Series, Zabiela has come about as close to doing so as he ever has.

Being the ambitious technical geek that he is, James wasn’t satisfied in providing ‘just another mix’, and, as seems to be quite the trend of late, got his conceptual on. The gimmick is this: Zabiela took a mini-recorder around with him for a while and recorded various sounds and speeches to make use of; then, after much studio tinkering, crafted a true musical journey of a mix.

The CD starts on a mellow tip, which will be the general theme maintained for much of its running time. Yeah, as per the Down title, this is mostly a downtempo set. Fear not, though, as it neither rambles nor dawdles – in fact, despite obvious transitions and changes of tempo, Zabiela has crafted an incredibly engaging and evolving mix. Sets of chill music are at their best when it feels like you’re being taken on a sight-seeing tour of various moods, atmospheres and soundscapes, all the while always making progress on the trip. Not only has James accomplished this here, but by making use of his samples, he’s given his chosen songs stronger context in the sort of story he aims to tell. For instance, how about a bit of melancholy dialogue regarding losing our humanity as a bridge between the somber minimalist Pattern 4 from Cyan341 and the warm, fuzzy nostalgic tones of Boards Of Canada’s Amo Bishop Roden? There are plenty of lovely little bits like this scattered throughout the mix.

Towards the end, Zabs starts cranking the BPMs up a notch – several notches, actually. Esky’s Number Station establishes a fitting sci-fi setting before IDM-breaks mainstays Plaid are given a chance to take off, reminding us just how sublimely exhilarating these guys have been throughout their career. And while the ‘two-step prog-house’ of Quivver obviously can’t compare to Marry, John Graham’s offering still makes for a worthy contemporary set closer, with Departing Gates’s blissful piano tones providing a fitting coda to the CD.

Overall, I’d rate Zabiela’s set just as good as anything you’d have expected from the prog DJ legends of the 90s – yes, even Sasha’s sets from Northern Exposure. Don’t miss out on this excellent CD from The Masters Series!

Eh? You say there’s two CDs to talk about here? No there isn’t.

Okay, there is, but can’t we just ignore it? It’s not worth getting into. No, really, it’s not. *sigh*

CD2 is called Up, but Down is more up than this disc. The BPMs may be geared for the dancefloor, but there’s very little ‘up’ about these beats. For the most part, this is an ‘I are serious techno DJ’ set, with rhythms that plod along, atmosphere that remains in k-hole murk, and generally very little fun. Despite the sounds and effects never being outright awful, it’s just agonizingly dull to endure - especially so is Zabiela’s own Darkness.2, which is little more than an extended effects wank-a-thon. The set has an alright start with Paul Woolford’s Surrender, but forget about anything being built upon it. Komytea’s Professional Killers nearly rescues us from the middling affair - it at least has some decent groove - but is quickly undone when the track doesn’t really lead anywhere, and James falls back on boring techno-stomp right after. Of course, the pointless cover–sorry, ‘reconstruction’ of Energy Flash will get your attention, in that it’s such a recognizable anthem, but it isn’t until the tail end of Perseverance that things finally pick up. Love You All makes a valiant effort to bring some proper fun back into the mix, but Luomo and Apparat’s track is far too little too late. Even Zabiela doesn’t seem too fussed with this set, as he only adds his walkabout samples at the bookends, not bothering to create the same kind of concept that worked excellently on CD1.

Up just can’t compare to Down in any way. It lacks the first set’s finesse, creativity, spunk, emotion… Hell, anything. And as a standalone, forget it. With tech-plod sets of this sort all over the place, there’s nothing about it to recommend. I hope CD2 isn’t meant to be a representation of what Zabiela plays at the clubs – I’d be spending a very long time at the bar were I hearing this out live.

Masters Series 12 is totally schizophrenic. One half is brilliant, the other not; one half makes a strong argument that Zabiela deserves all the hype, the other makes a strong argument that good prog DJs are dull techno DJs; one half will get repeated plays, the other will collect dust. Mind you, this isn’t a 5/10 release by any stretch, but a mediocre CD2 makes paying a two-disc price for a great CD1 mighty painful.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2009. © All rights reserved

Emmerichk - Late Nineties

Offshoot: 2014

Sweet, a techno CD with a title recalling an era of techno that's no longer in vogue. Forget the logical assumption that Late Nineties won't be all on that tough, 4am bangin' shit - I've already convinced myself that's what will be on this album! Plus, it’s advertised by the intriguing ambient and experimental Psychonavigation Records label that released Oliver Lieb's Inside Voices earlier this year of Twenty-Fourteen. I’m not sure what that means in the long run, but it was enough for me to dive into this album from one Emmerichk Esquivel sight-unheard. Heck, I even sprung for the limited edition CD copy, which came in a thin plastic case that doesn’t open like traditional jewel or digipaks; instead, it has a spring load with a release in the top corner. Clever and crafty – I’m in love.

Of course, had I done some prior research into who Emmerichk even is, I probably wouldn’t have been so quick in getting this. His profile at Lord Discogs has musical jargon like “sound carpets” and “rhythmical micro-structures”, the sort stuff you’d associate with Mille Plateaux. Dear me, that’s nothing like what I imagined. Not even room for a fierce, percolating 909 rhythm? What have I gotten myself into?

A pretty cool album, is what. Oh, Late Nineties is definitely all about the dubby, minimalist sound associated with experimental branches of techno, but so was Plastikman’s Consumed, an album released – say it all together – the late nineties! Emmerichk states his influence in crafting this album was a paying tribute to the techno producers of that era while maintaining his own style in the process, so you have tracks with titles like The Hood andThe Jaguar, names anyone worth their techno salt should recognize. Alongside those, there’s Acid Twilight, Analog Fever, and assorted other stylistic points of reference. Alright, on board again.

Another thing that ties Late Nineties to that period of techno is the above-average BPM. Right from the opening cut (Deep Thoughts), things chug along at a brisk pace, far more so than most tracks in the dubby end of genre do these days. What’s remarkable about Emmerichk’s production is, without a good set of speakers or headphones, it won’t seem like it. You’ll hear the kick, but in most cases its very soft, barely a pulse as heard on weak sound systems – only Transforming The Past has anything resembling the chunky, distorted kicks of yore. Instead, Emmerichk somehow hides the propulsive attributes of his tracks within the sonic depth of dub effects, which is great for getting lost in the techno murk of his music but utterly reliant on quality playback gear. Don’t try playing this on laptop or smarphone speakers, is what I’m saying.

Despite not having what I (foolishly) expected, Emmerichk still turned out a mint album of high-tempo dub techno. Yes, I know those terms seem like an oxymoron, which is all the more reason for you to check out Late Nineties to hear how it’s done.

Solieb - On The Button / We Are Moving

Maschine: 2007

Geez, another Solieb single? How many of these did I get? How many were even released? (ten) I was curious to hear a few of these minimal techno Lieb musics, sure, but not all of them. It's minimal, for God's sake – how interesting could all of it be? Have a cursory glance, then back to forlorn hopes for another L.S.G. album. I've no idea what else to say about the Solieb project that wasn't already covered with Integrale and Impersonator. Heck, I've even already done the fictitious backstory angle! I've nothing left.

Let’s get this review over with, then. On The Button was released towards the latter end of the Solieb run, and I have to wonder if Mr. Lieb was running out of ideas where he could take minimal techno. Despite a start that hints at a sludgy bit of rhythmic monotony, the track gets rather busy with its various sounds: some machinery grinding, dub techno effects, and even proper melody at points that’s mildly catchy. That’s not supposed to happen in serious minimal music. The track doesn’t go anywhere much, and spends far too much time on the DJ-friendly bookends, but the middle sections were interesting for short time they were allowed. We Are Moving on the flip isn’t even minimal, despite the requisite over-dubbed percussion and plonky parts. There’s a funky groove, smart acid blips, and an ominous, dominant synth drone that sounds like it belongs in Spicelab down moments rather than supposed minimal techno. Since We Are Moving is the least minimal track I’ve heard from Lieb’s minimal moniker, it just might be one of the best Solieb tracks around.

Lieb would release one more single as Solieb, Halo / The Drums, coming out in spring of 2007. Just before minimal became insufferably commercial and tiresome in clubs everywhere, come to think of it. Hm, ol' Oliver rode that minimal wave for just the right amount of time, getting on when it started its intriguing buzz (2005), and bailing before every two-bit producer jumped on the bandwagon. Or maybe it's just a coincidence he put Solieb to pasture before the scene stupidity started settling in. I prefer believing the former, because I’m a hopeless fanboy that way.

That’s all I got. For the love of Lord Discogs, I hope there aren’t any more Solieb singles lurking in my music collection. There’s a couple more individual tracks floating about, but surely not full two-track EPs. I mean, look at this, I’m rambling to make self-imposed word-count quota. It’s not that the Solieb stuff was boring or whatever, it’s just there’s little more to discuss regarding the project. Dear me, I hope Lieb doesn’t release a CD collection of the stuff now, because I know I’ll end up buying it, then I’ll have to review it, and I’ve exhausted almost every talking point by now. Maybe not actual detailing of individual tracks, but geez, you know how painful it is reviewing minimal? Not fun, not fun at all.

Bandulu - Cornerstone

Blanco Y Negro: 1996

Way back when, I figured I'd never find a Bandulu album. They seemed so distant, a part of a young, fertile UK techno scene hiding in the underground, gaining plenty of props from the press, but absolutely no support from major labels. What chance, then, could Teenage Sykonee have in stumbling upon an album from this intriguing dub-tribal-techno act on the other side of the world? In our regular shops, none chance I say, and certainly nothing even hinting at an affordable non-import price. These days though, it ain't no th'ang to pop on the Amazons, do a quick search, and see what comes up. This shit's getting too easy, nearly whatever my youthful desires may be but a few simple clicks away, all at reasonable prices. All the allure, mystique and that, turned into a mere passing phase of intrigue rather than a lingering impression.

I wonder, had I found Cornerstone sitting forgotten in a used CD shop in a trendy neighbourhood, how different my response to this album would be. This is Bandulu on the downswing from their early seminal work, going deeper into minimal techno and experimental dub. Most of these tracks are cool enough, a fair bit of variety between each cut. There’s reggae nods with Selah and Folly, Detroit funk in Deep Sea Angler, uptempo bangers like Weak Heart, loopy head-nodders like Trinity, pure dub experiments like Parasight and Protocols, and plenty more that run the gamut between them all. For such a limiting sonic palette, Cornerstone does offer plenty of diversity throughout.

And yet, as an album, Cornerstone’s just too tracky. Mind, it’s a complaint of many techno LPs, ones even today’s scene continuously suffers from - I’m looking at you, Ostgut Ton. I realize the mid-‘90s was when techno felt the need to go minimal, distancing itself from the raving sensibilities and song-craft that carried the genre earlier that decade, but it makes for frustrating albums if you’re after more than a dozen tools for a rinse-out. Bandulu probably realized this, mostly sticking with vinyl releases on their own short-lived Foundation Sound Works print afterwards. Still, I’ve no doubt the brisk reggae-dub techno vibes of Running Time or spacious soundscapes of Sting would sound great in live settings. Hell, Shroud and Jester would get all the plaudits if it were a name like Shed attached to them rather than an old-school UK techno act with rave roots.

That all said, the Bandulu name does carry enough pedigree and class that any of their albums are worth a look-listen. They were doing the dub-techno thing as early as Basic Channel ever were, and rode minimal’s early waves just as capably as your Jeff Mills or Robert Hoods did – don’t count these guys out because their albums are easier to find through the Amazons or Lord Discogs Marketplace, eh? Guidance is obviously their Most Important Album, but Cornerstone’s collection of dub-techno cuts should entice fans of this sound into seeking this LP out too.