New Order - Complete Music

Mute: 2016

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

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

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

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

And then performed extra length, just because they can!

Sykonee's 'Sportsing' Surveys: UNDERWORLD (The Non-Emerson Years)

Everyone loves Underworld (everyone, everyone...), but do they love all the Underworld there is? Probably not, because there's a lot more Underworld out there than most folks realize. For many, the music crafted as a trio of Karl Hyde, Rick Smith, and Darren Emerson is all they care to know. I cannot deny being part of that demographic, not from a lack of interest, but from trepidation they never could recapture the exhilerating highs the '90s brought to the band.

And, well, that may be true after a fashion, but I'd still hear plenty of positive buzz surrounding a post-Emerson Underworld, especially so their work in music scores and Danny Boyle Olympic collaborations. Maybe it was about time to properly scope out The Rest Of Underworld, hear if there was anything more worth listening to. And if I'm doing that, I may as well check out the rest of Karl and Rick's work while I'm at it. The two have been working in some sort of tandem for decades now, so surely a few tasty morsels exist among their extended catalogue.











As an aside, I am aware Rick Smith released a solo album of ambient material as well. I skipped that because it wouldn't make for the best 'sportsing' music, and couldn't easily find it anyway. Not that some of these other releases were readily available on standard music streaming services either, but at least YouTube provided what I needed for most of them. Yes, even a patchy playlist of Get Us Out Of Here.

I'm glad that Underworld seem to have found a solid second life this past decade with Barbara and Drift. Not that they horribly fell-off after Emerson left, but things did seem a little shakey for a spell there. I do want to give the full Drift series a serious run-through, but gads, that's an obscene amount of music for a single sitting. They've entered Pete Namlook levels of productivity!

As for what's next, I'm itchin' for a return to the realms of hip-hop, but something maybe a little less gangsta' ridden. Something that really gets back to The Roots of rap, if you feel what I'm sayin'.

Various - Sven Väth: What I Used To Play (CD2)

Cocoon Recordings: 2023

By the by, I wasn't kidding in suspecting part of the reason this compilation was made was for the boutique vinyl market. In fact, I can't help but think it's the sole reason, as the record option features twelve 12”s. Yes, that means only one or two tracks per side! Which hey, is kinda' handy for record collectors who don't want the fuss of scouring the internet for original (or re-issues upon re-issues) of all these tunes. Yeah, some of this is undoubtedly redundant for serious black crack enthusiasts – having New Order's Blue Monday is almost mandatory for any proper collection – but at least they're all here in one box-set with Sven's seal of approval, right?

Speaking of, if I must levy a major nitpick over What I Used To Play, it's that the presentation is rather bare-bones. The included booklet just features all the various mug shots of Mr. Väth in the cover's collage. There's no liner notes about the tracks, no written blurbs about their history or what they mean to Sven's career. Not even some insight into his early days as a DJ at Dorian Gray in the '80s or setting up Omen later that decade. Highly detailed historical context doesn't seem to be the point of What I Used To Play, letting the music speak for itself. I suppose if you really wanted to know that stuff, you can easily find it all over the internet. Again, disappointing if you wanted more out of this compilation, but far from a deal breaker as a whole.

After an opening salvo of synth-heavy new wave music (holy cow, is Anne Clark's Our Darkness ever an early precursor to New Beat!), disc number two brings us to the midlands of American. That's right, folks, we got our acid (Phuture), we got our Detroit techno (Model 500), and we got Chicago house (Frankie Knuckles and Quest). Okay, hearing No UFO's and Your Love is rather redundant in my case, but at least Sven picked the less obvious We Are Phuture over Acid Tracks, not to mention a real obscurity in Quest's Mind Games (Street Mix). See, there's some merit to this compilation for even the hardiest of crate diggers!

Then CD2 takes turn for the ...world beat? Okay, not really, as that was really a thing yet in the '80s. More like jazz fusion musicians fusing whatever they could get away with, and if that included some Afro chant with drum machines, so be it. So we get the epic fifteen-minute digital drum jam of Jasper Van't Hof's Pili Pili, the pure percussive workout of Guem Et Zaka Percussion's Le Serpent, the Afro trumpet-boogie vibes of Hugh Masekela's Don't Go Loose It Baby, and the... wait, hip-hop of Sly & Robbie? I thought these guys were reggae and dancehall. What are they doing here sounding like something straight out of the vaults of Rick Rubin? Never would have expect such guitar shredding from these chaps.

Various - Sven Väth: What I Used To Play (CD1)

Cocoon Recordings: 2023

Hey, it's the return of the 'let famous DJs show off their neglected records' compilation! This once was a rather fruitful genre of CDs, several series springing up at the turn of the century, Back To Mine probably the most famous of the lot. However, as streaming services took over the market, it made more sense to curate sets and playlists of favourites on such sites rather than deal with the messy business of label legalities. And yet, interest in physical copies of such collections must have started up again, as I've seen a small resurgence in 'what I used to play' compilations. Heck, even Back To Mine emerged from the ashes in recent years!

I honestly have no clue what's spurred on this physical resurgence. Something to do with the boutique vinyl industry? A growing concern of just how 'everlasting' music left on the internet cloud truly is? Whatever the case, it at least gives me an excuse to fill in more blanks of my own collection.

Straight up, Mr. Väth's selection here isn't terribly adventurous if you're already well-versed in '80s club music. Granted, few of these tracks would get play on retro radio these days, and only a handful ever cracked the pop charts when they were new, especially in stodgy America. For a young German making his way in Cold War era nightlife, some of these probably were considered edgy and daring to rinse out. If you were looking for some ultra-deep digging on Sven's part though, this is clearly the wrong 3CD set to come into. He's showing off what he used to play, and that included plenty of familiar crowd pleasers for less discerning heads.

While there aren't any specific themes associated with each disc, there are some stylistic consistencies among each other, which is perfect if one intends to review Every. Single. CD. in the box-set. As I do! So let's dig into CD1 of Sven Väth's What I Used To Play.

Save a couple nods to early hip-hop from Whodini and Rockers Revenge, this is about as 'euro' as these CDs get. We got Kraftwerk! We got Yello (but not Oh Yeah, thank God)! We got Liaisons Dangereuses (such accent)! We got Clan Of Xymox (much darkwave)! Hell, even the Americans and Australians sound like they're trying to be Europeans! Lots of new wave fusions stuff (The The's Giant the most epic of the bunch), and lots of spritely Italo synths (Klein & MBO's Dirty Talk, A Split – Second's Flesh, Severed Heads' Dead Eyes Opened). Plus, a little Easter egg in closing out with 16 Bit's Where Are You?, the duo who'd go onto massive success as Snap! Oh, and team up with Sven as Off. Guess they really liked his guest vocals on this track. Come to think of it, I don't think I've heard Mr. Väth's voice outside a musical context. Just how thick of a euro accent does he actually have, I wonder...

Sykonee's 'Sportsing' Surveys: KILLING JOKE

I've long admired Youth's work with The Orb, and have even checked out one or two of his other projects, but never the one where he got his start: Killing Joke. I know very little about this band, beyond being one of those Very Influential ones of the '80s, often name-dropped by many big-league players of alternative rock. I felt like I should check them out at some point but wasn't sure if they'd even be my jam, way outside whatever expectations I had for supposed post-punk pioneers. Then again, isn't the whole point of doing these discography dives while demolishing my deltoids to discover music I'd never give a chance otherwise? Most definitely it is, and what better way of truly getting outside my comfort zones than engaging a band while my heart rate and adrenaline are operating at peak proficiency. I mean, it works for dance music, so why not some noisy proto-industrial rock too? So let's get into the epic, oh-my-God how is this band still existing? discography of Killing Joke!





























Another survey that took much longer than I was anticipating. It was an interesting one, and I've come away from it with an appreciation for this band's accomplishments. Aside from a select few songs though (plus that psy dub remix album), there isn't much here I'm eagre to rush out and buy proper-like. Maybe if I find an album or two on the cheap, sure, but for the most part, their style is just a tad too caustic for my regular listening habits. There's only so much aggro rock I make room for these days. At least I feel more sorted for whenever I take a deeper dive into Youth's larger body of work.

Anyhow, I'm sure folks reading this on an electronic music blog prefer it when I stick to electronic music acts, so my next survey will be on one of its most successful artists: Norman Cook. ALL projects!

Sykonee's 'Sportsing' Surveys: NEW ORDER

I'm almost embarrassed that I've never really dug that deep into this band's discography. Obviously I knew a handful of hits, especially when the '80s revival was in full swing at the turn of the century. Yet the first time I actually ever heard Blue Monday was when Tom Middleton mashed it with Tiga & Zyntherus' Sunglasses At Night. Other tunes I heard here and there, but probably didn't connect them to New Order because, far as I knew, they only ever sounded one way or another. I honestly didn't realize just how much rock was in their synth-pop, even with the knowledge that they formed out of the ashes of Joy Division.

How can I be so ignorant of one of the most important bands in club culture's history, especially so in the U.K., what with their ownership of The Haçienda, one of the most important nightclubs responsible for nurturing rave's formative years. No, this simply wont do. I need to expand my knowledge of this band, learn about all their musics beyond a few radio hits and a pumpin' acid techno remix.

Eh? You say I'm doing this just because there's that documentary about them coming out? No, no, I decided upon this survey before I even learned about that. I swear it's the truth, I tells ya'! Anyhow, let's get on it:






















I have to admit, I'm astounded New Order had the rebound it did so late in their career, even with Peter Hook gone. Or maybe he was holding them back for a while there? Who knows, I certainly don't want to dwell on band politics. If for whatever reason you haven't kept tabs, figuring there's no way New Order could recapture their '80s glory, I highly recommend at least giving Music Complete (or even Complete Music!) at least a stream. Hell, I may pick that one up proper-like for a proper review on it down the line.

As for my next survey... I'm not entirely sure who I'll do next. There's plenty I've in mind for consideration, just haven't figured out who I want to tackle first. Maybe I should do a poll on Mastodon?

Various - Choose 80's

Mercury: 1997

At first glance, this appears nothing more than what it is, another compilation capitalizing on '80s revival from the turn of the century. I certainly thought so, or at least was my recollection of it when I got it from a co-worker's bundle of CDs. For sure I remember it as an item in the little music shop I worked at for a time, and maybe even saw a TV ad on the national music station. Still, something kinda' tugged at me about Choose 80's, like I was forgetting a couple quirky details about it that would reveal themselves when I finally (finally!) reviewed it proper-like.

For instance, this CD actually pre-dates the '80s revival by a few years. Yeah, 1997 may not seem that for removed from the year 2000, but trust me, resurrecting the decade of new wave and synth-pop was furthest from the minds of most label heads. They undoubtedly had a potential retro market in mind at some point in the future, but were making far too much jack from way '90s music like alt-rock, club thug rap, R&B, and 'electronica' to pull the trigger. There wasn't much nostalgic interest in '80s music from Johnny and Jane Q Public yet, so little need to dust anything off in a label's archives.

Yet something encouraged Mercury to go forward with this compilation just the same. For the longest time, I couldn't recall why – it certainly wasn't because they were ahead of the retro curve. No, something else, something that had to be buzzing in pop culture that would send casual consumers en masse to buy a copy. Was it that Da Da Da track from Trio? There was a charming Jetta commercial that used it, the sort of thing that would get people rushing to a music store asking about “that song in that car commercial” (known as the Mitsubishi Effect in later years). What year did that come out anyway? Well by jove, 1997. Yep, that's all it would take for a compilation like this to hit the shelves. Just get a bunch of other '80s hits from the Mercury/Polytel archives, and voila, capitalization on a hit commercial. It's how we memed back in the '90s.

That solved, what's even on Choose 80's that's worth talking about? Lots of familiar names with familiar tunes (Yello, New Order, The Buggles), others digging a little deeper into discographies (Tears For Fears, Iggy Pop, R.E.M.). Post-punk and new wavers get a lot of representation, some I've heard of (Violent Femmes, The Jam, ABC), some I only know by ear (Shriekback, Level 42, Split Enz, Black (2)). One song I never realized came from the '80s is Squeeze's Pulling Mussels, sounding like a '90s alt-rock jangle that'd be featured in a third-rate sitcom.

One final oddity before the wrap. Choose 80's is fine for a nineteen-track collection of adventurous new wave and quirky synth-pop, but does it ever reek of sausage too. It's like women musicians never existed that decade.

Tom Tom Club - Tom Tom Club

Sire/Island Records: 1981/2009

I have to assume everyone reading this blog knows the story of Tom Tom Club by now. How the rhythm section of Talking Heads were encouraged to make a record of their own while the band was on hiatus, and instead of pulling a Peter Criss, they debuted with one of the funkiest disco reggae-dub records of the era. One that's endured to this day, with hit singles sampled in perpetuity.

Yes, everyone knows that story. Or so I thought, until just the other day. I mean, the timing of the following anecdote couldn't be more perfect, so I must share it.

I was playing Tom Tom Club's album at work, mentally making notes for whatever angle I might come up with for this review. Genius Of Love comes on, and as that extended groove at the end plays out, one of our younger staff strolls by and mentions, “Oh, hey, Mark Morrison's Return Of The Mack.”

Now, I know he's mentioning this to me as a way of showing off his music knowledge, that someone his age would be familiar with hits of the '90s or something. And I smile, because I'm about to blow his mind.

“Oh, no, this is the original version of that beat.”

“There's an original?”

“Oh yeah, it's been sampled lots. Originally came out in 1981.”

“Nineteen eighty-one!?”

“Nineteen eighty-one.”

“...geez, nineteen eighty-one...”

That, my friends, just goes to show how timeless this record is. Sure, you could quip some of the rapping in Wordy Rappinghood comes off corny, or Booming And Zooming is too weird to be any good, and lord knows this deluxe re-issue didn't need all those pointless remixes added. Damn though, Genius Of Love's irresistible beat. The peppy L'Elephant. The dreamy Lorelei (always loved that name). The charming cover of Under The Boardwalk. Plus an entire bonus disc holding the rarer follow-up Close To The Bone? How can anyone not vibe on this release?

Okay, maybe that last one isn't as great. I mean, it's nice to have it included at all, this 2009 release the first time appearing on CD, and Pleasure Of Love is a worthy single. Unfortunately, I can hear why Tina and Chris weren't as pleased with the album. After the serendipitous recording sessions of their debut (not to mention the fun Bahamas trip included with it), they hoped to repeat the experience in their follow-up. Unfortunately, things failed to click a second time (political revolutions outside the studio didn't help), the resulting album sounding stiffer and forced compared to its predecessor. Measure Up at least recaptures some of the original's magic, and The Man With The 4-Way Hip comes close, if not for the incessantly repetitive lyrics.

Whatever, it's the self-titled debut that remains the star attraction. If you still haven't heard it (*cough* younger generation *cough*), get on it and hear the roots of many a hit rap and R'n'B single.

Various - Balance 013: SOS

EQ Recordings: 2008

Thirteen volumes deep, and the Balance series came full circle. Or looped around. Reached into its past. Had its first instance of a returning DJ, is what I'm getting at. This time though, he's with two other chaps as a super-group (before being in a super-group was cool). In a more subtle sense, Balance 013 brings in Omid '16B' Nourizadeh for the first time. You might recall I've come into contact with him via his Changing Shape alias, the track Keep It On opening Bill Hamel's contribution to the Nokturnel Mix Sessions series. And Bill Hamel did the third volume of the Balance series! Which means... which means... I could really go for a side of bacon in my next breakfast.

The inlay blurb (and Discogs entry) has quite the lengthy spiel of positive hyperbole regarding Omid, Desyn, and Demi's impact upon the clubbing scene. As I look back upon those heady years of the late '00s, however, I fail recalling anything of the collective called SOS. Maybe it was mostly in the UK and Europe they did their damage, the cross-Atlantic markets denied their tours. Still, as with Deysen's own career, SOS seemed to have disappeared from the Discoggian archives as the 2010s took hold. Not that there was much prior either, but when clubbing culture became all about the super-group DJ squads, I can't imagine SOS stood out from the pack as much anymore.

Still, compared to some of the Balance sets of the period (*cough-012-cough*), this has held up quite well. It's not a brilliant 3CD set by any stretch, and would likely be poo-poo'd out of Very Important critical discussion compared to the series' follow-ups. Very little feels dated though, tunes that knew exactly what they were aiming for, with DJs deploying them in an efficient manner.

Well, maybe not so much CD1. Clearly meant to be the 'chill-out' set, this one's too scattershot to accomplish its goal. Yeah, I like hearing Speedy J's De-Orbit and Bryan Ferry's Don't Stop The Dance, but in cramming the variety they do with competing visions, it comes off rather aimless and jumbled. Stick to the dancefloors, mates.

So they do, CDs two and three riding things out with acid house, Balearic prog, spacey disco, beefy breakbeats, and Aeroplane. Someone in SOS sure loves them some Aeroplane. About the only time things go super hands-in-the-air is with Michael Cassette's Shadow's Movement, but their retro sounds are charming enough for an anthem, so I'll allow it.

As much as I grooved to these sets though, I can't say they often got me excited either. It could just be the three-disc format making it difficult to take in all at once, but then other 3CDers in this series don't have that problem. For better or worse, I know what each set sounded like in other Balances, whereas they blended together here. Still not sure if that's a good or bad thing, but for certain, it is a thing.

The B-52's - The B-52's

Warner Bros. Records: 1979

I never thought I'd get a The B-52's album. Like so many folks out there (so very many), my first contact with them was via their omnipresent late '80s hit Love Shack. And like everyone else, I loved the song, until I heard it too many times to the point I didn't really want to hear it again. I also recall Kate Pierson's guest spot on REM's Shiny Happy People as being the first time I realized there was such a thing as artist guest spots (“gosh, that lady singing in the chorus sure sounds like the lady singing in Love Shack!”). Following that, there was The Flintstones Theme, which forever marked the band to me as just some cheese-ball, cartoony throwback group. Which, well, was kinda' true, but Cynical Teenager Sykonee thought that a Bad Thing.

Fast forward many years (over a decade?), and I hear Rock Lobster on a classic rock station. And I thinks to myself, I thinks to myself I do, “Wait, is this the same group as who did Love Shack and Flintstones? How can that be, this tune's awesome!” Not that I rushed out to nab more of their music or anything, but it definitely forced a much-needed reassessment of their work, such that when Spotify Discovery discovered me another of their older tunes, I decided it was finally time to do the deed and dig into The B-52's discography proper-like.

While I know pretty nearly anyone reading this blog should know who The B-52's are, they may not know much about them prior to Love Shack (erm, like me, once). They started much earlier than that, forming in the late '70s, getting lumped in with that new wave of rock bands taking the music down roads yet adventured. Only, the five-piece didn't. Rather, they set their sights on rock music from its earliest days, after the rockabilly era, but prior to the Mersey beat era. Yes, I'm talkin' up that most wonderful vintage rock era of them all, the surf rock era!

I get why that style of guitar action had fallen by the wayside, a genre of music commonly associated with thoughts of preppy white kids getting into safe, society-acceptable hi-jinks. Just wasn't as sexy as the gritty greasers from which punk rock was getting its aesthetic from. Irony was on the cusp of musical birth though, and while they were quite sincere in their cribbing from white-crust Middle-Americana, one couldn't help but take The B-52's antics just a tad tongue-in-cheek.

Still, such sincerity makes their self-titled debut album the fun romp that it is. Not only did it trigger plenty of nostalgic endorphins for the Boomer sect, but posed the question of what such music would sound like if it took things an extra level. Rock Lobster was such a hit not just for its cartoony charm, but because it just keeps going! Imagine a Hanna-Barbara cartoon featuring Frankie Avalon on all the amphetamines. Oh, and the rest of the album's pretty cool too.

Billy Idol - Rebel Yell

Chrysalis/Capitol Records: 1983/1999

The only Billy Idol album you're supposed to have ... is probably a greatest hits package, if we're being honest. If you must get one of his standard LPs though, Rebel Yell is probably the one. Sure, you're missing out on such timeless jams like White Wedding, Mony Mony and Dancing With Myself, but look at what you get here. Rebel Yell! Eyes Without A Face! Flesh For Fantasy! Uh, Catch My Fall and Blue Highway too, I guess.

Yeah, I'm not gonna' front. Vitol Idol remains my definitive collection of Billy Idol tunes; however, it lacks one of his all-time ass-kickin' songs, Rebel Yell. Essentially a remix album, the tracks on there were intended for dance club efficiency, and Rebel Yell was too much of an out-and-out rocker to fit that bill. Plus, Eyes Without A Face is a ballad, thus ineligible for Vitol Idol consideration. No, if I wanted those songs, I'd have to get the album from which they first appeared. Or a greatest hits package, but where's the fun in that? Like, this was Billy Idol's most successful album, so maybe there's a few overlooked gems that were overshadowed by the huge singles, and thus lost when folks started going straight to the hits collections instead. Alright, I'm super pumped in hearing some Album-Orientated Idol now. Let's do this, with a Rebel Yell!

And there's that iconic titular opener, and no matter how many times I've heard it on TV or rock radio, it never fails in getting me hype. Especially those little synth fills, ooh such shivers down the spine for a techno-boy such as I. Daytime Drama is our first instance of AOI, and it's a fun slice of new wave boogie for the inner-city clubs, including a jaunty little synth solo. Sounds good thus far.

Eyes Without A Face follows, and confessional time: for years, whenever I heard this on radios, I wasn't sure it was actually a Billy Idol tune. Yeah, the mid-song bridge, with Idol going full sneer and Steve Stevens' distinct shredding, should have been all the convincing I needed. Still, do you hear those ultra-tinny, heavy-reverb Fairlight drum machines in the beginning? The softer croon? The backing female in the chorus? Might this actually be a Human League song? Ah, the uncertain years of a pre-Discogs era.

As mentioned, Flesh For Fantasy and Catch My Fall are also here, but I'm so used to their extended Vitol Idol versions, they feel kinda' slight on Rebel Yell. And as for the rest? Blue Highway and Crank Call have fun solos. Stand In The Shadows is a fine uptempo rocker. The Dead Next Door serves as a decent album-closing ballad. Not much else leaps out from these filler tunes though, much less being overlooked gems in Billy Idol's wider discography. I'm not surprised though, Idol truly one of those classic artists who lived off his biggest hits. Was still time well spent confirming it though - nothing ventured, nothing learned.

Aidan Casserly - Incubus

Werkstatt Recordings: 2016

This has been bugging me ever since I threw this album from Aidan Casserly on: what vocalist does he remind me of? Like, for sure one of those New Romantic new wavers of the '80s springs to mind, but it feels lazy to name-drop someone like Simon Le Bon or Dave Gahan. No, it's someone more specific than that, by my knowledge of the New Romantics of the '80s is pitifully slight, so I'm drawing a blank. Heck, at this point, I'm thinking Curt Smith or Roland Orzabal, which is way off base for any number of reasons. Or maybe it's not even someone from the '80s. Aidan clearly takes influence from jazz crooners of decades past, as his albums flit with traditional lounge soul as often as synth-pop. Heck, he even got Kriistal Ann to duet with him for a full record's worth of tunes on Muse, which Werkstatt Recordings surprisingly released, one of the un-synthiest items in the catalogue of the self-proclaimed vanguards of retro synth music. Oh, and speaking of Muse, its cover-art, which only features Ms. Ann, is also used as the default picture for Mr. Casserly's Spotify profile. What the bizmark, Spotti?

So Aidan Casserly's been around a while, first starting out as part of the Irish synth-pop group Empire State Human in the early 2000s. Yep, even that far back, among that whole ironic-retro revival era, there were chaps making straight-forward odes to The Human League – what better time to enter the game when interest in the O.G. of synth-pop were resurgent, amirite? The group remains active to this date, but that hasn't stopped Mr. Casserly from pursuing solo interests as well. Aside from the collaborative album with Kriistal Ann, and this particular album Incubus, which I just uploaded, Lord Discogs lists two other releases to his name. Uh, and Spotify has four additional releases, plus a... soundtrack for The Amityville Legacy? Is that the same Aidan, Spotify? You already got his profile picture wrong.

In any event, Incubus is his third album with Werkstatt, and to be blunt, I didn't really vibe to this. Part of it is just due to being a style of synth-pop I'm not that into, Aidan's over-emotive croon not connecting with me like other new wave singers. I'm not discounting his pipes, and maybe in another, more traditional context they would tickle my ears better (like, maybe in a more Bowie setting), but the stripped-down synth-pop backings don't mesh so well. Some of the backing melodies are charming enough, and a couple tunes do find Mr. Casserly hitting stirring climaxes that get me roused (cannot deny the big “We're dead sin!” peak of Dead Sin does me right; sounds like "We're dancing" to my ears tho'). Also, Kriistal Ann pops in for a couple guest spots (Here Come The Dolls, Slow), and there's an interlude-instrumental in Escape Is Not An Option. Aside from those moments though, not much beyond Aidan's own croon stuck out on Incubus, which isn't his fault. Just not music for me.

ACE TRACKS: July 2018

Another month, another review quota quite short of what I was able to crank out even a year ago. What's up with that, eh? Well, aside from having a mini-break for the Basscoast music festival, I figure two factors have hit me in such a way I never anticipated. For one, the fact is a lot of my current reviews are of material that is relatively fresh and new to my years. When I was mostly going through my older CDs, I already had many thoughts and criticisms built in by many years of replay – even the ones I didn't replay often still gave me talking points about why they ended up as duds in my music collection. That makes cranking out a review of it exceedingly easy, 75% of it practically already formed inside my brain matter. Aside from a few older items though, most of what I'm covering now doesn't have that long gestating benefit, creating something of a crunch on my cranium. Having an extra day to make sure my thoughts aren't some slapdash hot-take is practically required now, which unfortunately does reduce my output clip a little. So it goes.

The other reason there's a little lag these days is due to it being unbearably muggy this summer, my prime writing hours (usually early evening) all but null and void. Fortunately, that 2am time-slot seems to work out in a pinch, if I've overslept an evening nap. Best way to get past the gruelling setting-sun heat in this west-facing apartment of mine. Wasn't such an issue in summer's past, is what I'm saying.

Yeah yeah, bunch a' belly-aching here. Can I help it if I set myself up for a standard that I can't always maintain? In any event, here's the ACE TRACKS of July 2018.


Full track list here.

MISSING ALBUMS:
Mick Chillage - Harmonic Connections
Tipper - The Critical Path
Tomita - The Firebird
Porya Hatami & Lee Anthony Norris - Every Day Feels Like A New Drug

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 0%
Percentage Of Rock: 8%
Most “WTF?” Track: that one Andrew Heath track? No, of course not, it's still the ever-lasting Oak Ridge Boys.

This seems short, even for a month like this one. It's got the usual stuff you probably expect out of these playlists as of late: a little ambient, a little techno, a little house, a lot of stuff that sounds like the '80s. Shame no Tomita made it in, though. That would have given this playlist some unexpected pep.

Various - Hits Of The 80's

Sony Music Select: 1993

It was the start of the '90s, and one thing was clear as day: CDs were the dominate medium of music consumption. People liked them for their portability and higher fidelity. Stores liked them for their ease of display and storage. And labels sure as Hell loved 'em for the insane mark-up they got, cheaply produced and sold for $20 a pop, not to mention that whole 'buying music you already had on a newer format' aspect. Them labels though, they weren't all greedy all the time. They knew they had a pile of music in their archives they already made max bank off of many years past, but were still favourites to many. Meanwhile, there remained a significant chunk of the populace who'd buy a CD of familiar music if the price was right. These consumers weren't the sort to scour record shops looking for the radio hits, but should they spot a collection for cheap in a discount bin by the grocery store check-out, well, what harm th'ar be in a $10 impulse buy, eh?

Hits Of The 80's was probably such a buy from it's former owner. Ooh, look, there's The Warrior. There's Bangles. There's Hooters. Recognizable songs, but the local rock radio doesn't play them anymore – too busy pumping out newer jams like Pearl Jam, or Unbelievable, or Pump Up The Jam. As I've said before, it was almost instantaneous in how the '90s music industry rejected anything that sounded like the decade prior, but that didn't mean fans of synth-pop, new wave, and glam metal went away either. Offering quick 'n cheap compilation CDs filled with this stuff was a sure-fire method of squeezing a few more drips of finely ground coin from those left wanting in the era of Spin Doctors.

That said, at ten tracks long, Hits Of The 80's feels skint, even for the cheap-o compilation market. What, couldn't squeeze two extra tunes on here, Sony? It's not like you're left wanting for selections in your archives. And how did they go about choosing which songs got included here anyway? The only thing I can say unites these tracks into any sort of theme is when I listen to it, I think, “Yep, those were hits in the '80s.”

So you get some classic, girl-fronted new wave music like Patti Smyth's The Warrior, Bangles' In Your Room, and 'Til Tuesday's Voices Carry (fun fact: for the longest time, I thought the chorus was “it's so scary”). That strange '80s fad of updating rockabilly is also present, in Cheap Trick's Don't Be Cruel and Adam Ant's Goody Two Shoes. A good ol' power ballad in Warrant's Heaven shows up, while something smoother in Gloria Estefan's Words Get In The Way reminds us there was soul in the '80s too. Oh, and Toto's Africa is on here, which would have made a fun talking point two years ago, before the song was inexplicably and annoyingly memed to death. Damn millennials.

Marnie - Crystal World

Les Disques Du Crépuscule: 2013

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

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

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

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

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

Yes - 90125

Atlantic/Rhino Records: 1983/2004

When I was young, I didn't know much, but I knew my Dad liked Yes. I also knew he played rock music in a rock band, and that Yes also played rock music in a rock band. Yet, in all the practice jams and rehearsals and sound checks, I never heard my Dad play Yes. With the logic befitting of a youngling who didn't know much, I suggested he should play some Yes in his rock band, to which my Dad gave a somewhat bemused smile, replying, “I couldn't play to their level.” This statement took me aback. To my young ears, songs like Owner Of A Lonely Heart, Hold On, and Changes didn't seem that much different than his covers of Loverboy and Steve Miller Band, and surely that's all the band Yes ever did.

Of course, I eventually learned just how expansive the whole Yes discography is, and why my old man felt songs like Heart Of Sunrise, Close To The Edge, or Gates Of Delirium weren't exactly bar-rock suitable (surely he's jammed to Wurm on occasion tho'!). Still, you can't blame a kid for thinking otherwise, Yes' hard pivot into arena-friendly rock anthems fitting them right in with the radio and MTV hits of the '80s, a far cry from their progressive '70s output. And it was all the work of one man, their new guitarist Trevor Rabin.

Truth is, 90125 wasn't supposed to be a Yes album, at least not in name, the band having gone their separate ways following Drama. Founder Chris Squire and drummer Alan White stuck together though, still enjoying their rhythmic mojo, but they needed someone as lead and guitarist, and happened upon Trevor's demos. Liking the cut of his musical jib, the two parties hooked up and even started recording some tunes as Cinema. A happenstance meeting with former Yes keyboardist Tony Kaye brought him into the fold, and feeling Trevor couldn't handle all the vocals while doing his thing on the ol' six stringer, Chris reached out to Jon Anderson for his thoughts. Jon liked what he heard, and after a marketing rep suggested they ditch the Cinema moniker, you've got a whole new Yes for a whole new decade (Trevor Horn helped produce).

Make no mistake though, Trevor Rabin's ear for rock anthems remains the dominate force in this album. Yeah, you can hear whenever contributions from Squire (those basslines!) and Anderson come in (oh man, does Jon's abstract lyrics ever clash with Trevor's simple prose – sounds great tho'!), but for radio-ready rock, there's still some exceptional songcraft going on in these tunes: key changes, time signature variants, wacky solos, and all that good stuff prog rockers are known for. It's just not key features anymore, little asides where these musicians get to show off for fun before returning to an impossibly catchy earworm for a powerful chorus. 90125 may be Yes' most 'obvious' album, but I'd take this over most hair metal of the decade any day.

The Police - Zenyatta Mondatta

A&M Records: 1980/2003

Probably the easiest collection of music from The Police I got into as a kid, though the larger themes obviously went well over my head. I had no idea Sting was singing about the degradation of our communication skills when infatuation overwhelms us, I just liked singing “de do do do, de da da da.” A peppy tune about a bird lost in a mine is a whole 'lotta fun, never mind having no clue what the simile's about. And isn't it funny how some sweaty General is fascinated by a gorilla girl in Bombs Away? Or Man In A Suitcase, which is clearly about a tiny man who literally lives in a suitcase? Haha, it's the sort of silly stuff Raffi might do a song about. Still, that first song, Don't Stand So Close To Me, seems so serious considering it's about cooties and all that – the chorus is just as catchy as the rest of 'em on though.

The fact that Zenyatta Mondatta ended up with so many fun, simple songs wasn't by conscious choice by Sting, Stewart, and Andy. After a rigorous tour in support of Regatta de Blanc, they reconvened for some studio time, but were right out the door for more touring a month later. Their third album was rather rushed as a result, the band mostly sticking to the reggae and punk fusion they'd grown incredibly comfortable and adept at performing. They were definitely itching to break out of that mould though, little hints and nuggets of their impending political-heavy, New Wave turn lurking here and there.

Take Driven To Tears, a sober reflection of the strife of poverty-stricken people, coupled with a lightly uplifting turnaround with When The World Is Running Down, You Make The Best Of What's Still Around. For the longest time, I thought these were the same song, so perfectly thematically paired as they are. Meanwhile, songs like Voices Inside My Head, Shadows In The Rain, Behind My Camel, and The Other Way Of Stopping find the band indulging in looser song-writing, some of which contain no lyrics at all, or input from other members either. Funny enough, Behind My Camel, the lone Andy Summers tune on here, was so hated upon by Sting that he refused to play bass for it, leaving it to Andy. It went on to win a Grammy for Instrumental Rock a couple years later, so what does Sting know.

And yes, the shift into broader political themes definitely announces The Police have arrived in The '80s. The Afghanistan War (“oh, 'guerrilla girl'”, Teenage Sykonee said), increased pressures to fit in a rapidly consumerist society... big issues were afoot, and damn if Sting & Co. weren't gonna' use their star platform to start telling their audience about them. Er, once they have the time to properly do it, that is, on an album that's not as rushed as Zenyatta Mondatta. For now, have a sampling with the familiar, spirited 'cod reggae'.

Ladytron - Velocifero

Nettwerk: 2008

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

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

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

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

Various - Sounds Of The Seventies: The Late '70s

Time Life Music: 1993

This was volume thirty-four out of a series of thirty-seven, and don't this come off like the crusty teat of a withered cow. Sounds Of The Seventies had already given the late '70s ample representation with two rounds of yearly spotlights. Following that, titles such as Seventies Top Forty, Guitar Power, Dance Fever, Punk & New Wave, plus several featured looks into FM Rock and AM Pop rounded up the stragglers, plus three more CDs of AM Nuggets after this. No other compilation in this series highlighted such nebulous ideas like “early '70s” or “mid-'70s”. What gives?

Time Life Music gives their reasoning as thus: “The late '70s was a schizophrenic time for pop music.” Basically, this CD is intended to showcase the myriad genres hitting the airwaves, much of which had little to do with each other. When your opening three songs include Donna Summer's true-disco hit Last Dance, The Village People's camp-disco hit In The Navy, and Boston's silly rock anthem More Than A Feeling, it does impart a sense that things were going a little kooky towards the end of that decade. America, if you thought that was weird, you should have heard the synthy sounds emanating from Europe and Asia too!

Seriously though, there are some interesting contrasts on this CD. The theme to Happy Days is on here, and that's followed by the MTV defining Video Killed The Radio Star from The Buggles, which I always assumed was a 1980 tune because of MTV. Nope, 1979 was when it was released, a technicality but still fits with a Late '70s theme. Punk gets a look-in by way of Blondie's Dreaming, which is followed upon by the... country soft rock (?) of Dave Mason's We Just Disagree. The sultry side of funk-n-soul gets repped by Marvin Gaye's I Want You and The Manhattans' Kiss And Say Goodbye, and rockier outings from John Stewart's Gold, Andrew Gold's Lonely Boy, and Bob Welch's Ebony Eyes show up. Um, yeah, most of the kick-ass rock tunes were already used up in prior Sounds Of The Seventies CDs.

That's one thing I'll give some props to this series though, always featuring fresh tunes with each volume. I sifted through each one, and didn't spot a single repeat, a remarkable feat considering not one instance of Neil Young showing up (da'fuq!??), not to mention nearly no synth music included – Hot Butter's Popcorn did show up though, because how could it not? I suppose there's a couple examples of synth on this CD too, like The Buggles, and the Moog solo on Alan O'Day's Undercover Angel. And let's not forget Minnie Riperton's Lovin' You! While that tune's about as un-electronic as it gets, it found a new generation of interest after The Orb sampled it in their breakout A Huge Ever Growing Pulsating Brain That you know the rest of it. So in true 'begging-chosing' fashion, rave music finally gets its nod in Sounds Of The Seventies.

Ladytron - Witching Hour

Island Records/Nettwerk: 2005/2011

Hard to believe this is only my second Ladytron review, but it's not like the foursome have made a ton of music over the years. To date, they've released five albums (though a sixth is in the works), their last one coming out way back in ye' olde year of 2011. I suppose that hectic touring schedule caused a bit of the ol' burn-out, plus they aren't the quirky young electro-pop chickens of the early '00s anymore. I'm sure members now have families to tend to, side-projects to cultivate, and whatever else that can keep a four-piece with as disparate backgrounds as these lads and lasses have from reuniting with consistency. Maybe that's why, for as much as I adore Ladytron's sound, I've always been hesitant in buying up their albums in one big splurge. I want to savour the ones that do come out for as long as humanely possible, never risking my own burn-out.

After yet another round of label troubles, Ladytron released their third album Witching Hour in 2005, one of the worst years for electronic music since the initial rave explosion. Fortunately, the group somehow stands outside time and space, the record just as sonically timeless as their previous work, yet also pertinent to the trends happening in the here (there) and now (then). It's a very good album, is what I'm saying, in a year when finding very good albums was a ridiculous feat of excavation that would make Indiana Jones and Globetrotting Batman quiver in the knees.

It was also a radical departure from the pure synth-heavy sound the group had in their early work, bringing in added drums and guitar work to complement their electro-pop. Some attributed it to latching onto the disco-punk wave of the time (LCD Soundsystem was the hippest band about), but I don't hear it. Rather, it simply sounds like Ladytron spent some of their hard-earned cash on new musical toys, thus letting them expand their aesthetic beyond pure retro work. Unless you figure 'post-punk new wave' just as retro as synth-pop.

It worked to some extent, Witching Hour scoring the band some of their first chart action, lead singles Destroy Everything You Touch and Sugar some of their best-selling songs. They weren't gang-busters, mind you, but considering their label troubles, it's remarkable they got on the Billboards at all. Then again, breaking the 'boards was never their M.O. I think their fans are perfectly content keeping Ladytron's impossibly earwormy choruses to themselves anyway. Saves room at the live shows.

And there's plenty more to enjoy from this album. The peppy 'rockers' (High Rise, AMTV, Weekend, Whitelightgenerator), the dreamy synth-poppers (International Dateline, Soft Power, The Last One Standing), and the moody downbeat pieces (CMYK, Beauty*2, All The Way). Throw in all the charmingly catchy, yet oddly tragic lyrics you've come to expect from Helen Marnie's satin lisp (...*swoon*), and Witching Hour remains one of Ladytron's best records. Just ignore the rubbish remixes at the end of the re-issues though.