Sven Van Hees - Gemini

Life Enhancing Audio: 1999

I always felt I did Sven van Hees a bit dirty in raiding so much of his music back in my P2P days. Right, it wasn't my fault his name came up often when I was on the prowl for 'downtempo' and 'chill' music of a slightly dubby bent. And hey, if I had ever seen any of his albums on a local music shelf, I probably would have picked it up on name recognition by that point. Despite making frequent appearances on early techno and latter Ibizan compilations though, I never spotted his CDs. Right, that Svengali one might have been a bit weird over here, but not even Gemini? Guess Life Enhancing Audio was too small-time for North American consideration, so just as well Sven took things into his own hands with his own Your Lips print, where he carries on releasing music through to this day.

It is an interesting turn for the Belgian though, going from one of the earliest proponents of Balearic trance and tribal techno to a staple of the Mediterranean lounge scene. Or maybe the latter was always in his wheel-house, it was just more prudent to produce tunes for the local rave scene at first. It's not like the chill-out market was as fruitful in the early '90s compared to the commercial juggernaut it became, especially in his native country. It's still something of a whiplash hearing an upbeat techno track on his R & S Records EP Emotional Rehabilitation or Global Cuts The Bellydance EP, then fast-forwarding to Gemini. (those early efforts are worth checking out, hence the cheeky name-drops!)

The unfortunate thing about actually grabbing this album is it's a little redundant to my music collection. Ten tracks make up its forty-five minute runtime, and I already have three of them: Tsunami (Inside My Soul), Breakfast With Abductees, and Serrano Anthem (Amor/Amor). And hey, these are great tunes, so effortlessly capturing the carefree, jazzy lounge vibes of being on vacation in the most luxurious tropical resort. Or rather, the memories of being in said paradise. It's not quite at a Boards Of Canada level of hauntology, but there's definitely a hazy recollection of past times in Sven's production. It makes his music stand out so much more compared to the usual Cafe del Mar type tunes you'd associate with this scene. Small wonder Gemini is often hailed as a minor classic of Ibizan lounge music.

And that's the general style you get here. Some tunes are little more uptempo (Matrass Mambo, Seasonal Bounty (Smooth '94)), some funkier (Tamiami Blues, Flute Salada, Supafly (Hannah's Lullaby)), others dreamier (Ocean Jive). It's all smoothly polished without stripping any of the soul, the perfect soundtrack for a lazy day on your patio.

Is it good enough for me to explore further Sven van Hees music though, post-2000? I'm... not so sure. I fear he may fall into a similar musical repetitiveness I found Thievery Corporation did, but nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Bonobo - Black Sands

Ninja Tune: 2010

Migration may have been Bonobo's deliberate attempt at having crossover success, but Black Sands may remain his most popular album. Never mind this one is owned by over twelve-thousand members of Discogs' community, well outpacing Migration's 'mere' eight-thousand. On a track-by-track basis, Spotify's streaming numbers puts Black Sands' songs properly above Migration's, though the King Bonobo cut goes to The North Borders' Cirrus. All that pre-hype as a lead single in the follow-up to Black Sands no doubt helped its cause. Of course, this all could be explained by the fact Black Sands has a seven year head start on Migration to rack up such numbers, but I prefer going with the theory that Black Sands is a better overall album.

For sure it's an album in transition. The first clutch of Bonobo records mostly stuck to that traditional Ninja Tune-y trip-hop vibe that was so prevalent in the early '00s. They were good enough to gain a dedicated following, but not enough to branch beyond that. By the late '00s, however, it was abundantly clear change was afoot in UK downtempo-land: trip-hop was finally on the way out, jazzy urban soul and future garage was in. Simon Green had already explored some of the former on Days To Come, and 2010 was as good as any year to start dabbling in the latter. Just in time to hit those lucrative festival circuits playing nothing but the latter!

Actually, there isn't that much more of it here, Black Sands offering a wide variety of old and new Bonobo. For sure the album hits you right out the gate in Kiara with the wonky rhythm and chirpy chiptune bleeps while a Far East string melody plays along, but follow-up Kong is pure vintage Ninja Tune hop-step, steady-cool groove. Then Eyesdown gets in on that skippity-shuffle beat while Andreya Triana croons along, while El Toro has fun with acid jazz. Wait, really? Yah, really. Call it 'electro swing' if you must, but we all know what it really is.

The genre hopping/fusions continue throughout Black Sands, each track hitting upon their own unique vibe, the album never losing its way for the ride. Did I mention a lot of this is done with instrumentation performed by Bonobo himself? Yeah, there's a number of featured guests, especially on El Toro and the titular finale. Yet tunes are arranged such that it kinda'-sorta' still sounds like sample-based downtempo music, with subtle electronic gimmickry enhancing the studio sessions. Heck, on the aforementioned titular finale, a big ol' cinematic jazz outing with contributions from Jack Baker (drums), Mike Lesirge (flute and clarinet), Mike Simmonds (violin), Alan Hardiman (trombone) and Ryan Jacob (trumpet), Mr. Green also plays guitar, piano, double bass, xylophone, mandolin, and harmonium. Ahh, the wonders of multi-track recording.

Does this mean that Black Sands has converted me to the Bonobo Brotherhood? Well, it got me checking out more of his earlier output, which is all any artist can hope for from late adopters.

Bonobo - Migration

Ninja Tune: 2017

So I've started up a Bonobo collection, and you think, “wat? You haven't yet?” Respected melting-pot artist on a label I've long been a fan of, plus a permanent presence on the local festival circuit: seems a shoe-in for my interests. Two things kept me from properly diving in though, one of which is totally stupid. For the longest time (about a decade now?), I kept thinking this was the Bonobo as appearing on Jimmy Van M's Balance. Which shouldn't be a problem since I liked that Bonobo, so why wouldn't I like this one even if it was a case of mistaken identity? Dashed expectations, most likely, which leads me into my second factor: the unbelievable hype over this guy from certain segments of the electronic music community.

You know the type – let's call them the Four Tet fan. Maybe not so insufferable as the Nicolas Jaar fan, but certainly as agreeable as the Flying Lotus fan. The sort who declare jazzy-influenced producers geniuses for throwing all manner of instrumentation into their works. Not that Ninja Tune hasn't had such artists on its roster before, but for some reason, Bonobo got all the love from hippies (especially urban hippies). And while the music can be perfectly fine and lovely, there's a reflex action of mine where the 'dumb music is fun' portion of my brain (the part that likes German trance) side-eyes such pretentious adoration. How can it be that good, it asks, if it doesn't sound like my favourite stuff? Brains are stupid sometimes.

I wonder if my brain is still fighting this conflict, even as I listen to Bonobo's latest album, Migration. I like what I hear, but I don't love it, yet I feel I should love it. Some tracks, such as the pure dancefloor outings like Outlier, Bambro Koyo Ganda, and 7th Sevens, I enjoy immensely, thanks to that good ol' reptilian portion of my grey matter needing nothing more than a solid beat, a hooky hook, and a charming chant to release the happy chemicals. Gosh though, did the rhythm in Outlier need to be so cluttered? And whoops, there goes my brain goes again, over-complicating things.

That's what it feels like listening through Migration, wherein I'll vibe to a particular track, but a nagging nancy keeps asking “is all this sound really necessary?” The more stripped back Bonobo goes, as in the shimmery sunshine-soul on Surface or subdued trip-hop of Break Apart, the better he is for it. Other tracks, like the titular opener and Ontario, opt for the gradual build into crescendo climax school of songcraft, and I can't help but think them just a tad overwrought in the process. Especially Ontario, which feels like it should be the capper on the album, but three more tracks follow.

Maybe Migration just isn't the right entry point into Bonobo's discography. Fortunately, I never buy just one album of an artist, so this won't be the last we'll see of him here.

Susumu Yokota - Sakura

Skintone/Leaf: 1999/2000

(a Patreon Request from Omskbird)

It wasn't much to go off from just one track, but Susumu Yokota's contribution to Tangent 2002 was a highlight among a compilation filled with highlights. Such skill in weaving a simple nouveau disco tune, I mentally bookmarked the name, figuring he'd be one to scope out more of at later date. Then I saw how wide-ranging and expansive his discography was, and realized a proper deep-dive would be quite the undertaking indeed. The dude started out on Harthouse, for crissake. Harthouse! I assumed he first popped up in the wake of emergent disco deep house of the late '90s, yet there he was, already releasing material that must be among the most obscure items the Frankfurt print ever put out.

But yes, Yokota-san truly came to prominence toward the end of the decade when his house records were getting attention across seas. It didn't turn him into a house-hold name or anything (hefty import fees from half a globe away didn't help), but house-heads in the know would always tip their hat and stroke their beard with a nod should a Susumu tune make an appearance.

Thus I was eager to hear Sakura, a request finally getting me on that overdue deeper-dive. Then I realized, oh dear, there's so much more to his catalogue of music than nifty house and retro techno. So very, very much more. Ambient! Modern classical! Odd sound experiments! That harmonic Japanese thing that only they seem capable of doing and are so good at doing that no other culture has come close to doing, thus forever owning it, mang. They own it!

So this is a very chill album, which I was not expecting, but definitely something Susumu dabbled in from time to time. The fact this came out at the height of his 'peak house years' makes it a rather interesting record, almost a companion passion project wedged between 1998 and 1999. Then again, it does come back to that 'self-release' option, Sakura coming out on his own Skintone, while his house records were released through Sublime Records (no, not that Sublime Records; a Japanese one). Interestingly, the album saw a release in the UK under Leaf, a rather eclectic print where I see Manitoba residing (aka: Caribou; aka: that actual Canadian who sounded like Boards Of Canada).

*whew* How about some actual music talky-talk then, eh? Ah, I'm afraid it's one of those albums that are difficult to detail, what with abstract loops, deep pleasant tones, and lovely minimalist harmonies dominating the songcraft. There are a couple outlier tracks, like Genshi with its steady techno pulse, Hisen with a trip-hop thing going for it, the nu-jazz business of Naminote, and Kodomatachi predicting what 'dream pop' may sound like. Beyond that, however, Sakura's musical eclecticism mostly amounts to sonic doodles and sketches. It rather reminds me of Omnimotion's debut album (oh hi, obscure name-drop), though less emphasis on the dub and a clear Japanese lean. Will probably grow on me just as much that lush record did too.

Various - Balance 020: Deetron

Balance: 2011

Venturing into unknown territory here, in more ways than one. Yeah, this is the first time I've wandered beyond Agoria's Balance set, but as mentioned, I did keep tabs on which DJs would come and go. Pretty nearly all, I was somewhat familiar with. The vets of old (Timo Maas, Nick Warren, Funk D'Void), the newer cats gaining buzz (Nic Fanciulli, Henry Saiz, Radio Slave), and such. Deetron, however, is a comparative blank for me. Like, I'm sure I've seen the name pop up here and there, but there were no tracks or remixes of his that nabbed my attention, no massive hype cycles proclaiming this or that set as decade defining. I won't deny some of that may be due to my own lack of exploration of some scenes, but considering I haven't had this problem with most other jocks in this series (within the main line, at least), it does feel odd having this much of a blank regarding Deetron.

And Lord Discogs isn't much help either, simply stating Swiss-born Sam Geiser as having been using the Deetron alias for a good two decades now. The bulk of his singles came out through famed Belgian print Music Man Records, and appearing on numerous DJ mixes from jocks ranging quite the spectrum (Pete Tong, Carl Cox, Adam Beyer, Ken Ishii, Stanny Franssen, Knee Deep, Frango (2)). Boy, folks sure liked that I Cling tune. Was that the bump that got Deetron enough notice for a Balance set?

Though the series had drifted away from mega-conceptual mixes, Mr. Deets brings a couple different approaches with each disc he's given: one done digitally, the other analogue. Won't deny seeing a twenty-six tracker for the Digital CD1 had me a little side-eyed with visions of Joris Voorn, but the analogue set has one track more, so why should I worry? And disc one is fine enough, though changes pace in tone so many times it's hard to gain any moment. It felt like Sam was using digital's abilities to coerce transitions between tracks that really had no business being together, but it didn't create a disjointed mess either. Besides, it worked well enough for Jimmy Van M, so no sense niggling the inconsequential details. Speaking of Jimmy, Deetron opens CD1 with Autechre's Egg, which Van M also used, marking this, I believe, the first instance of a repeat song within Balance canon. Of course Jimmy would do it first.

Digital may be more diverse with its deep house and nu-jazz and downbeats and Throbbing Gristles, but I'm fully on the train with Analogue, a proper house 'n' techno ride that keeps the pace steady and on the up. I can almost feel Deetron riding the wheels of steel with each transition, and gosh, wouldn't you know it, kinda' makes me want to check out those Fabric and DJ-Kicks outings of his, if it's more of this! Not so much the first disc though. Would definitely need to try before I buy.

Various - Backspin: A Six Degrees Ten Year Anniversary Project (Original TC Review)

Six Degrees: 2007

(2019 Update:
I wonder if 2007 Sykonee would have been so critical of gatekeeping if he'd known that electronic music would blow up to the degree it did half a decade later? My larger point in the pre-amble ramble was pop music needn't be so shunned by the techno underground, but considering the sort of obnoxious bilge that did break through into America - not to mention the usual slop constantly hitting it high in European charts - my wish for a little more acceptance of popular sounds shouldn't have been taken upon a monkey's paw. And was kind of a moot point anyway where this compilation was concerned. Yeah, the original artists being covered here were generally chart toppers, but the selected songs for covering were hardly their biggest hits. Heck, some of them may not have charted at all.

Also, I'd love to see this concept revisited. Would be interesting to see what the current generation of wordly musicians consider their influences of the past three decades.)


IN BRIEF: The old is new again.

Before I start, I feel I should warn you the following review contains musical philosophizing. If you haven’t the time to indulge in my pseudo-intellectual rambling, then here’s the bottom line regarding this release: it’s good. Really good. Check it out. You won’t regret it!

Alright then? Let’s get into it.

Electronic music, for the most part, is typically regarded as non-mainstream. Aside from brief bursts of trendy pop dance hitting the airwaves, most of it is only enjoyed by a select few (in America, anyway). As a result, a sense of pretentiousness has been bred in its fans. The pursuit of underground purity permeates many scenes, even those who could very easily have crossed over had some events been different. This has led to an outright dismissal of anything with a hint of pop. The assumption is if it’s catchy, it must have been manufactured for a wider audience, thus no longer credible within the realms of the indie. What a load of bull.

Granted, a great deal of pop music is manufactured, with the sole intention of placing in the charts as high on street date as possible. But believing every song that does is ridiculous. Fact is plenty of musicians can hit upon a good song the general public enjoys and, with just the right amount of promotion, become a hit. In this age of Everything-Available-All-The-Time, a single spreading through the internet can secure success far better and credibly than thousands of PR dollars pumped into the industry.

Alas, the gut reaction of scensters to ignore good songs that become popular persists. So here’s an intriguing question: what if these popular songs hadn’t made it, and had initially been performed by obscure indie names like Ojos de Brujo or The Real Tuesday Weld? Would such folk enjoy them in that context then?

Okay, okay. This isn’t really the premise behind Six Degrees Records' new compilation. In actual fact, Backspin is a ten year anniversary project for the eclectic label. However, rather than rounding up a bunch of their biggest hits, Six Degrees instead got members of their roster to do covers of their influential songs. But in doing so, it does raise that question, doesn’t it?

Well, maybe not. Perhaps I was the only one to even think of it. It was something that crossed my mind when I saw songs on here originally written by names like Abba and The Beach Boys. Credible names to a degree, sure, but frankly often dismissed by the underground.

Anyhoo, that’s all beside the point. What matters here is whether these cover versions are worth your attention. In a word, yes.

In more than a word, the mark of a good cover is to take a familiar song and make it your own while still honoring what made the original an enduring tune to begin with. And here Backspin certainly succeeds.

Many of the producers here stick to the original arrangements for the most part, but often throwing their own sound into the mix. So Bob Marely’s Get Up Stand Up turns into a fun bit of latin music courtesy of Ojos de Brujo, Herbie Hancock’s Rockit gets organically jazz-housed up by dZihan & Kamien, and MIDIval PunditZ crank the orchestral arrangements up on Led Zeppelin’s Four Sticks.

Elsewhere though, songs are given completely different re-imaginings. For instance, who’d have ever thought the ABBA italo-ballad The Day Before You Came could have been interpreted as a kind of smokey lounge tune sung by a guy probably wearing a beret? The Real Tuesday Weld did.

Of course, there are plenty of other examples I could dwell on, but part of the fun in this compilation is discovering what surprises these musicians throw at you. Here’s a few tidbits that caught my interest:

- Shrift’s take on God Only Knows really turns this tune into a weepy. The original was so bouncy that I had never even considered the lyrics could be this depressing.

- Toby Marks (Banco de Gaia) seems to still be having fun with his vocoder.

- Spirits In The Material World has notoriously been known to be a difficult song to cover, as the arrangements are deceptively complicated. Good on Karsh Kale to have a go.

- Los Mocosos’ cumbia go at The Bed’s Too Big Without You is a hoot!

So a wrap up then? Backspin is a lot of fun, period. While the wide range of musical types may not be everyone’s cup of tea, the fact they wrap familiar pop in these unique styles should keep even the least adventurous intrigued. Seek it out and get reacquainted with old standbys.

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

The Gentle People - Soundtracks For Living

Rephlex: 1997

Acts like AIR, Groove Armada, and Röyksopp were highly instrumental in turning the chill-out scene into a radio-friendly commercial juggernaut, but did they really start it all? Okay, yes, but one group was making ultra-retro psychedelic lounge-pop just a smidge before those names broke out. The fact they came out on Rephlex, however, had everyone scratching their heads whether it was all a put-on. Like, really? The label that Aphex Twin started would release something like the Journey single? Hell, not just release it, but give it a remix too! Mr. D. James' rub on Journey must be among his most bizarre creations, in that it's just so... normal.

Answering the question of “What would happen if The Human League and The B-52s took LSD, Quaaludes, and time-travelled to the '60s?”, The Gentle People were an odd quartet even without the Rephlex bump. Whether or not their glassy-eyed gaze into retro psychedelia was a put on, they seemed so sincere that you couldn't help but fall sway to their pulpy charms. You wanted to indulge in their fondue parties while lounging about bubble chairs and shag drapery.

Theirs was musical escapism from a music scene already rather removed from modern norms. The only place left to go was where the establishment had already been, re-purposing it for their own use. Retro trends in a nutshell, really. Still, it boggles the mind that Rephlex would be the first to get hep to such a potential market, even if they never followed it up with musical acts of similar ilk. All others got signed to big Virgin money, probably.

So I've already mentioned Journey as it appeared in Ambient Ibiza, both the most obvious and least obvious sort of compilation The Gentle People to appear on (future Braindance collections from Rephlex too). The rest of Soundtracks For Living generally follows that dubby, trippy, lounge-pop vibe with various degrees of psychedelia. Some tracks use big orchestral swells to oversell the sentiments (World Of Love, Emotion Heater, Relaxation Central). Others get more intimate with mushy lyrics and jazzy solos (Laurie's Theme, Le Tunnel De L'Amour, Tiki Mix).

Then there are the tunes that almost remind you that Soundtracks For Living indeed does have raver roots, however tenuous they appear on the surface. Dream warps a hazy slice of dubby ambience through the lens of a '60s Euro-art flic. Travel Bug is so bassy and spacey and groovy you'd expect Kruder & Dorfmeister to show up on the swirly-coloured couches for a jam. Meanwhile, many of the final tracks aren't too sonically dissimilar to The Orb's antics, or if The KLF had been inspired by British mod fashions rather than American outbacks and Elvis.

Soundtracks For Living can appear shallow and hollow at first ear-glance, no doubt. Heck, I thought it would be going in. The more I listened though, the more I found sucked into a surprisingly deep, warm bowl of delicious fondue cheese. Laced with sunshine acid. The Journey video ain't no joke.

Ken Ishii - Sleeping Madness

R & S Records: 1999

Not the actual follow-up to Ken Ishii's breakout album Jelly Tones, but generally thought of as the spiritual successor. The between LP Metal Blue America is just a tad too rare and a tad too 'American' for most folks to bother with. What's rather sad is, for the longest time, I wasn't really aware of Sleeping Madness either. For sure I knew of Ishii, but by the time I started noticing his albums in local stores, we were already at Future In Light (aka: that one with the 3D model outline as cover art). Better distribution deals likely helped in that regard, as finding R & S Records releases in Canada was none too easy or cheap in the '90s, no matter how critically exceptional they were (I'm looking at you, SAW 86-92).

Of course, our modern times has left most of these nuisances nicely in the past, and catching up on Ken's work has been one of my long-gestating tasks, if not an exceptionally pressing one. Sleeping Madness is as good as any record to carry on with, showcasing his distinct take on Detroit techno by way of Neo-Tokyo, while also highlighting some of the broader developments the genre had started incorporating by the late '90s. Yes, I'm talking about that almost entirely forgotten trend techno couldn't help but indulge in: jazz.

Oh yeah, there's that jazz, man. Where Is The Dusk features busy drums, organ licks, and layered strings creating a bizarre discordant melody that fits snugly with the seemingly chaotic rhythms. If that wasn't jazzy enough, here's a collaboration with DJ Spooky (that subliminal kid), bringing his trippy hip-hop style to Enso Online - yeah, man, dig d'at cello bassline action, yo'! Missing Melody's title is apt, mostly a spazzy, swingin' rhythm workout that can't have at least been partially inspired by Squarepusher's antics; Game Over too, with Co-Fusion bringing a little more rocky feel to the party.

And golly gee, had Ken Ishii been feeling a bit of that tech-house bug that was creeping in the scene too? 24bit Optimist has a nice, bumpin' rhythm going for it that's not too hard and not too fast, though does morph into that classic Ishii techno stylee with the neon-kissed melodies reverberating off tall Shinjuku towers. Plus, I'd expect nothing less than a little tribal tech-house groove from a collab' with Talvin Singh in Water Dripping Down On The Middle Of The Forehead, no matter how many Japanese electro sounds Ken throws in there.

The rest of Sleeping Madness mostly features all the vintage Ishii techno you want and crave. Man, I don't know how to describe the sounds in Misprogrammed Day, but that beat thumps, and that sinewy hook coils itself around my cochlea like a... never mind. Really, this album offers enough familiar sounds while working in unique, creative indulgences for a little spicy variety. Yes, even a trip-hop secret song, because it's the late '90s, and everyone wants a spoonful of that Massive Attack gravy.

Spacetime Continuum - Double Fine Zone

Astralwerks: 1999

Forget all that ye' may think thy knoweth of Spacetime Continuum, for naught, it doth apply to Jonah Sharp's final album with said nomme de plume (um, yo'). This is a very different album from Sea Biscuit, is what I'm saying. Heck, it's also quite different from Emit Ecaps, though the Detroit techno pulse that dominated that album is still felt in Double Fine Zone. All that ambient techno and spacey chill-out and IDM explorations that marked much of his '90s output though, forget about it. For Mr. Sharp, he's discovered a sound that other techno producers had discovered, and wasn't afraid of having his stab at it as well. I am, of course, talking about all that jazz, man! Because if Carl Craig and Model 500 could go jazz, why not Spacetime Continuum?

Still, even in the annals of techno detours, this one comes quite out of leftfield. I can't say I've taken in all of Jonah Sharps musical output, but I see little indications in prior releases that he'd go this direction. Like, did Carl Craig plant some seeds of curiosity when he did those remixes for Kairo? Mixmaster Morris' foray into the realms of Ninja Tune inspiring his friend to attempt the same? Brian Iddenden just happened to be crashing on Jonah's couch and, having a saxophonist on hand, why not get some studio time out of him too? Whatever the case, going jazz is what Jonah wanted, so going jazz is what Jonah got'ed.

And he ain't pussy-footin' around it either, opening track The Ring featuring a prominent smooth jazz solo from Mr. Iddenden over chill, bloopy electro sounds. You can almost feel the warmth of cigarette smoke caress your cheek as you lounge outside a futuristic cafe. Follow-up Microjam gets back on that Carl Craig techno tip, but there's a fair amount of saxophone solos after. Rhodes keyboards too, if I'm being fair, and those are good fun for yours truly, but man, that saxophone... It's fine, I guess, but I've made clear it's an instrument that does weird, uncomfortable things to my ears, and ol' Brian's performances don't do much to alleviate that. A couple tracks here and there are fine, just not so much album's worth.

It's not just the Rhodes and saxophone contributions throwing this so firmly into nu-jazz territory. Sharp also makes use of sampled drums, giving many of his tracks that live-performance feel you'd expect out of, say, The Cinematic Orchestra. Seriously, did he make this in hopes of Ninja Tune noticing? It's almost a shock when you hear techno beats again in Double Fine Zone, even when coupled with the saxophone and Rhodes licks. Even more shocking to hear is Different Bend, a track that sounds like it could have been on an old school trance compilation. In the year 1999! Damn, what I wouldn't give to hear a ten-minute version of it, but Different Bend is one of the shortest tracks here. Such a tease.

Various - Ambient Ibiza

EMI Music Canada: 1996

I'd found a new genre to love, and even lucked out scoring a few early gems showcasing the stuff, but only on my twice-or-thrice a year trips to Vancouver. The rest of my time remained in the ends of Canadian earth, and good luck finding any music shop having something with “ambient” in its title. Fortunately, I'd started working at such a music shop, and had access to our supplier's catalogue. Promising my boss that I'd buy whatever came in, I eagerly flipped through the compilation selection and put in requests for anything that had “ambient” in its title. Some of those items ended up being compilations from Hypnotic (who knew!), but also included was this particular CD, Ambient Ibiza. And hoo, seeing that cover art when it first arrived, did I ever wonder if I'd made a mistake in such blind enthusiasm. Surely I would never make such a mistake in the future, ha-ha, ha!

So this looked rather corny, and when I threw it on for a listen, the opening track, care of CD compiler Sergio himself, with a saccharine pad tone and woman intoning “Tell me... what you dream”, and I feared I'd ended right back in the domain of Pure Moods, a domain I'd emphatically left behind. Couldn't deny though, it sold the Ibizan vibe nicely, feeling like I'm chilling on a Mediterranean patio with a cocktail in hand. Then Bindu's Light At Heart came on, with a surprisingly melancholy pad, heartbeat pulse, and lonely acoustic guitar. And gosh, though it still sounds very Pure Moodsy, something about it stirs the heart/soul/spleen. Like, I recognize it's sap, but a good kind of sap, the kind that can be turned into delicious maple syrup.

From there, Ambient Ibiza warms you over with a variety of chill-out tunes that never lose that Balearic feel. Lucky People Center's Woman Is Like A Fruit goes a little sultry nu-jazz, D.O.P.'s Manifest Your Love could almost fit on a collection featuring early Massive Attack and Soul II Soul, and upbeat Van Basten's Perimitive (Part 1) lays the naturalist field recordings on lusciously thick – feels like I'm wandering an arboretum filled with birds of paradise.

And wouldn't you know it, there's a single tune on Ambient Ibiza that could just fit on one of those 'underground ambient dub' CDs I was so enamoured with, Dub Tractor's Overheated Livingroom. Yeah, it's got that overtly chipper Ibiza vibe to it, but works just enough dubby melodies and rhythms that give me the THC-buzz without even toking a jay. Also, that breakdown! *melt*

Other dubby tracks on here include music from The Gentle People (haha, a Rephlex tune on a compilation like this) and Mind Over Rhythm's Big Warm Glo (a collab' with Plaid, of all things). That's more than enough to convince my younger self Ambient Ibiza really ain't so bad after all. Still a little too sickly sweet for many plays, mind you, but enjoyable enough for occasional summer afternoons.

Bows - Blush

Too Pure: 1999

(a (late) Patreon Request from Omskbird)

At first ear-glance, you'd be forgiven in thinking this is just another trend-hopping cash-in by another would-be trip-hop-slash-jazzstep act. Well, more the former than the latter, but if Roni Size/Reprazent could have crossover success, surely anyone could repeat the trick (spoiler: no). I cannot deny letting that assumption initially sink in, the Massive Attack comparisons rapidly blossoming in my brain like a bounty of succulent peaches. Or coconuts. Or apples... Darn, what a boring list of fast-growing fruits for a simile. What would the opposite of that be, the slowest blooming fruit? *d'un Google'd* The melocanna baciffera, eh? Well, the simile wouldn't work, but the alliteration would!

Anyhow, Bows was the brainchild of Luke Sutherland, a multi-instrumentalist who plied his trade with the indie rock band Long Fin Killie. Never heard of them myself, but they released three albums throughout the '90s, so a modest run. When Mr. Sutherland started feeling the itch for something a little more proper urban, the band disbanded, though Colin Greig brought his bass to the Bows project. And while Luke was proficient with plenty of instruments (guitar, violin, saxaphone, his own voice), he added a few more musicians to the mix, including Robbie McKendrick on non-sampled drums, and singer Signe Høirup Wille-Jørgensen as vocalist. Yes, that's a Danish name, she also of the band Speaker Bite Me, and followed-upon with a solo career as Jomi Massage. Man, where would I be without The Lord That Knows All, eh? I couldn't imagine trying to research all that when Blush first came out.

Anyhow, the reason those Massive Attack comparisons couldn't be helped is because the UK soul drips from this album (and we all know who invented contemporary UK soul... (James Blake?)). Opener Big Wings features dense layers of swelling strings, oozy-woozy saxophone and horns, and Ms. Wille-Jørgensen's croon over a slow Amen Break, essentially bridging trip-hop and jungle. By '99, I'm sure it'd been done plenty times, but Bows' take on it is enjoyable enough.

And that's about the gist of how I'd sum Blush. It treads ground mostly covered in years prior, but Luke shows enough songcraft and personality with the sound to make this a solid companion piece to the trip-hop lexicon. Some intriguing tricks crop up, such as the ultra-quiet start of King Deluxe (such a whisper of a vocal), or the chill fake-out before going full jazzstep tear-out in Girls Lips Glitter. Plus, the swelling strings of Big Wings becomes a recurring theme throughout Blush, including an extra-long outro in Rockets that almost turns the music into a dense six-minute drone.

If this had come out during trip-hop's critical peak ('94-'95), I'm sure it'd be regarded in the same discussions as Portisehead and Tricky. Unfortunately, the genre was waning in critical favour at the turn of the Millennium, so it's no surprise this would have been brushed off as 'more of the same'. If you dig trip-hop's myriad contributions though, 'more of the same' ain't a bad thing at all.

Various - A Journey Into Ambient Groove

Planet Earth Recordings/Quango Records: 1995/1996

Bruno Guez, the dude who oversaw Quango Records, claims in the inlay this particular compilation was the impetus that created the label. The original Journey Into Ambient Groove came out on Planet Earth Recordings, a short-lived print mostly handling early Harthouse America distribution. It possibly would have ended at that, Mr. Guez continuing on the DJ circuit while the CD got lost in a pile of trendy 'ambient house' compilations flooding the market in the wake of The Orb's commercial success. The head of Island Records though, Chris Blackwell, liked what he heard from Guez' efforts, sensing he had an ear for downtempo music that was more properly global than what most UK producers were making, and suggested a full label promoting a brand of 'global groove'. Thus, when Quango launched, Bruno retained the rights to the original Journey Into Ambient Groove brand, and used it as the premier compilation series for the young label. He'd go on to create many other series, but at four volume's worth in three year's time, this was his most successful.

Naturally, the title of this series is something of a misnomer. While there's definitely groove among these ten tracks, there's precious little ambient. A chill vibe, for sure; a dubby vibe, oh yeah. Even a light Balearic vibe, if you count the occasional flamenco guitar jamming as Balearic. Don't really hear anything I'd count as ambient though – no droning pads, no wallpaper sounds, no sentiments of napping at airports (though hanging out at a fancy lounge-bar might work). Not that it's Bruno's fault or anything, 'ambient' simply the standard buzzword for anything 'chill-out' through the first half of the '90s. It's just funny seeing it carried forward on a compilation series that'd go on to include the likes of Innervisions, Fila Brazillia, Cottonbelly, and Basement Jaxx.

What Journey Into Ambient Grooves has most in common with is the ambient dub that Beyond and Waveform were pushing. Heck, the opening track of Gato de Oro from Sapien sounds like it could have been an Original Rockers tune, which makes sense since it's actually a remix from Rockers Hi-Fi (aka: the group Original Rockers evolved into). And speaking of original rockers, Kruder & Dorfmeister's Original Bedroom Rockers is also on here, as it should be since K&D's records were among the earliest items Quango put out. Another Fine Day also crops up towards the end, doing his jazzy dub-chill thing in Lazy Daisy, while Howie B does a rub on Jenny Devivo's Love Is What I Live For.

Can't say I recognize anyone else in this track list, though I've probably crossed paths with traditional dub-dance act Zion Train at some point – they get two tunes here with Arise and First Power. The remaining artists all provide suitably groovy music to vibe on in your down time, but I feel this style would find its true form in the coming years, when the K&D influence would move downtempo beyond, um, Beyond's original ethos.

John Beltran - Everything At Once

Delsin: 2016

John Beltran should be a more important person in the world of techno. For sure he's highly regarded and respected, a two-decade veteran of the Detroit scene that's danced with the Belgian dudes just as often. He even scored a licensing hit in Collage Of Dreams - not many Detroit producers can claim that. And whenever a new album from Mr. Beltran drops, it always earns plenty of props, kudos, and love from the techno community. For whatever reason though, he's never quite broken through the ceiling that separates the Darn Good producers from the Legendary Name-Droppers. I can only assume his frequent flirtations with the ambient techno camps isolates him from the True-Pure Detroit leagues – Motor City don't take kindly to those who pall about with them softy Belgian boys, I reckon. Pft, as if that ever stopped Juan Atkins' status after releasing material on R & S Records.

Early seminal works aside, two decades of music is daunting to dive into for the Beltran newbie, few albums sounding quite like what came before. How nice of him, then, that for his tenth outing, John went with the ol' 'career retrospective' take, Everything At Once intended as a reflection of all that he's done. Can't think of a better excuse for a 'jumping-on point' than that!

And absolutely does Beltran deliver a smorgasbord of his various musical inclinations. There's ambient! There's techno! There's ambient with techno! There's twee acoustic glitch (She Dwells In Beauty)! There's dreamy indie loop-jazz (Dream Lover!)! (!!) There's Kraftwerk homage (Tanzmuzik)! There's... um, drone-tone...? Whatever Gentle Boxes is.

So there's eclecticism on Everything At Once, and at seventeen tracks, can get a tad overlong to sit through. While I'll always champion musical diversity, there needs to be some uniting theme tying it all together for each piece to properly settle into my brain-matter. Otherwise, bloopy jazz-shuffle tracks like White Rainbows get lost among the fuzzy ambient drone of Nice Sun and mellow Aphex nods like A New Room.

It also doesn't help matters when many of the lengthier tracks are front-loaded in this album, second-cut Faux giving us over seven minutes of soft clippity-clop breaks with acoustic strums and warped, harmonizing pads. That's followed upon by the titular cut doing a jazzy groove with haunting soul singing (paging Dr. Burial, if you may), while Sine M gets back to that vintage, chill Detroit techno, and Lift works the electro-jazz 'bells-n-bleep' businesses. Bookend this opening act with two short ambient pieces, and you'd be forgiven for thinking Everything At Once nicely wraps up just a shade shorter than many breezy albums do these days.

Not that there's isn't nice music in the remaining two-thirds, but they don't imprint quite the same, tracks seemingly more about Beltran indulging himself. Which is fine, ol' John more than capable of crafting engaging pieces even at his most left-of-field tendencies. It just leaves the back-end of Everything At Once a tad wanting, 'tis all.

Various - Zentertainment 2004

Ninja Tune: 2004

My early years in the The Big City was tough, financial frugality forcing me to be ultra-picky in what new music I'd buy for myself. After Shadow Records folded though, where could I find a quick fix of jazzy, downtempo urban vibes on a poor student's income? Hello, Ninja Tune, what have you here? A low-budget sampler called Zentertainment 2004. I'd kinda' forgotten about the Ninja folk at that point (despite the 3CD box set Xen Cuts sitting on every store shelf, always), so this looked as handy a reintroduction to their tunes as any.

And the CD opens with exactly the right stuff I was expecting, Skalpel's 1958 the sort of broken-beat, jazzdance, cut'n'paste track one can't help but associate with the label that Coldcut built. Yeah, there were other prominent prints that dabbled in the sound, but they had no Cinematic Orchestra or Hexstatic on their roster. Speaking of, Hexstatic's super-funky Chase Me comes next, about as vintage of Ninja Tune funk as you can get. In fact, at the time I heard it, I couldn't help but get a nagging sense of the label not evolving much since the '90s. I didn't mind it, but surely there'd been a few new sounds they could be promoting in the year 2004 too. What even was going down in London undergrounds around that time anyway?

Ah, here's a new cat, some dude by the name of Diplo. His Don't Fall is kinda' different from what I normally expected of Ninja Tune, a broken-beat that's got a prominent half-step shuffle going for it. All those cut-up funk and jazz samples though, doesn't sound too different from Amon Tobin's efforts. Maybe if he focuses more on his rhythms, and doesn't rely so much on emulating what Ninja Tune alum have done, this Diplo chap might find himself a healthy career.

Like that Sixtoo guy, at the end of the CD. Holy cow, his Boxcutter Emporium is over ten minutes of various vibes, an utterly epic outing of trip-hop, illbient, and the sort of instrumentals RZA would get weak in the knees over. And what's with that weird mid-section, with the half-step rhythms and skitchy bassline that's like a buzzing sawblade cutting through the beats? Pretty dope, is what, definitely what I envisioned getting hyped in the London underground. And the dude's Canadian too? Mark my words, us Canucks will be defining this weird sound in the future years, believe you me!

A few familiar Ninja Tune names round out Zentertainment 2004 (Jaga Jazzist, Wagon Christ, Blockhead, cLOUDDEAD), plus the dancehall/grime scene gets a look-in too (Lotek HiFi's Ram Dancehall, Infinite Livez' Worcestershire Sauce). Yep, that's about as tidy a sum-up of Ninja Tune in the year 2004 as you're gonna' get. Still, none of this is exclusive to this CD, so unless you find it dirt cheap in the pawn shops or you're a Ninja completist, there isn't much reason to get Zentertainment 2004 fourteen years on.

Various - Y9: Nine Years Of Psychonavigation Records

Psychonavigation Records: 2009

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

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

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

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

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

Various - Saint-Germain-Des-Prés Café Vol. 5

Wagram Music: 2004

Though I'm hardly a nu-jazz connoisseur, I like it enough that I don't mind springing for a compilation or two if I stumble upon them on the cheap. And Saint-Germain-Des-Prés Café is classy enough that you know you're in safe hands even as a complete rube. This is now the third CD from the series I've bought, and oddly enough, I've only picked up odd-numbered volumes thus far. What is this, some sort of subconscious reverse Star Trek movie selection? Actually, that would be darn hilarious if the even-numbered volumes of Saint-Germain-Des-Prés Café were somehow significantly worse than the odd-numbered ones. I don't even know how that'd be possible, since nu-jazz tends to maintain a steady modicum of talent and skill to perform it. Maybe supreme jazz experts could tell the difference of quality between each performed piece, but for most of us plebs, it's all the same, laid-back, cool chillin' vibe. Still, I'm tempted to make my next purchase in this series be Saint-Germain-Des-Prés Café 7, just to keep this accidental pattern going. OCD... compels...

So while some familiar nu-jazz sounds and artist staples re-appear for this fifth go-around (De-Phazz! DJ Cam! Dzihan & Kamien! Norah Jones! Gotan Project! Meitz?), something new has also been added. Or rather, something old, but new for the series: real jazz. As in, traditional instruments, classic 'cool' performances (or whatever that late '50s – early '60s development was), and nary a synthesizer in sight. Not just a one or two-off either, but chunks of this CD devoted to it. Street Of Dreams with Stacey Kent & Jan Lundgren Trio is exactly the sort of jazz you probably instinctively think of when the term is thrown about. Brisa Roché does a tidy little vocal-bop number featuring a trumpet solo. Chet Baker adds his sad trumpet to Gotan Project's soft Parisian soul 'Round About Midnight.

And some of these tunes, I swear tricked me into thinking they were performed au naturale, so smooth these producers are in their trade. Like, David Borsu's Late Nite Swing sounds like a regular ol' soul-jazz jam with the drummer and the trumpeter and the keyboarder and the singer and all; but no, it's a Belgium DJ fusing a bunch of elements together, though I think the vocal snippets of numbers should have clued me in sooner. Koop adds Astor Piazzolla's bandeoneon (aka: comedy-sized accordion) for a tidy tango ditty in Veulvo Al Sur. Then there's Nicola Conte's Bossa Ahead Remix of Eli Goulart E Bando Do Mato's Meu Samba (so many consonants), sounding not a touch out of place from whatever Latin jazz musics you fancy. Makes me wonder if the 'remix' tag is even necessary. Rearrangement, mayhaps?

Of course, there's the obligatory tunes with a heavier emphasis on jazzy drum programming (Slow Train Soul's Inna City Woman), or dubby funk (Refactoy's Yo Solo Queiro, Patchworks' Deep Ocean). Through it all though, you'll definitely come away with a craving for a mocha and croissant. Preferably by a seaside vista.

Scott Grooves - Pieces Of A Dream

Soma Quality Recordings: 1998

A deep house record is the last sort of sound I'd expect of an album with this sort of cover art, but Scott Grooves is from Detroit, so maybe Soma Quality figured sci-fi was justified. Still, what even is going on with this collage? Blue Earth, red pyramids, array of radio telescopes with a parade of elephants, flying ladybugs and butterflies. Pieces of a dream indeed, fragment of familiarity strewn about a nonsensical adventure in the land of Nod. But, oh man, once you realize you get into that lucid state of being, then the real fun begins. Here I come, Giza Pyramids Of Mars!

Patrick Scott got his start in the early '90s with Detroit-based Soiree Records International, releasing a smattering of EPs as Key Statements and DJ Scott. He soon adopted the name Scott Grooves, and signed with Soma Quality for a debut album, which did gang-busters for him. It seems, however, all that extra attention didn't suit his Detroit upbringing, and he went almost entirely independent after, self-releasing through his own, various prints (From The Studio Of Scott Grooves, Natural Midi). He remains active to this day, one of Detroit house's lasting fixtures along with Kenny Dixon Jr. and Mike Huckaby, though perhaps not as recognized as his Motor City peers. For a moment though, Mr. Grooves most definitely was, thanks to Pieces Of A Dream, and more specifically a singular track off the album. Let's talk about it now!

So Mothership Reconnection, a reworking of Parliament Funkadelic's tune of similar name. Clinton's here! Bootsy's here! Barrett's here! Worrell's here! Daft Punk is here! Okay, on the remix, but considering the French duo seldom did rubs of other people's music, you bet Soma Quality made it a huge selling point on the single. Their remix isn't on this album, of course, but don't let that dissuade you from checking out the original, over nine minutes of tight, funky action.

Getting to rework the P-Funk crew wasn't the least of Scott Groove's 'collaborations' either, rounding up several jazz musicians throughout. Opener Expansions features famed vibraphone player Roy Ayers plying his trade for a few extended solos, plus one Charles Green gets in a Rhodes solo at the end. Saxophonist Keith Kaminski struts his stuff in The Sax Speaks, and I'm thankful it's a solo that doesn't send needles through my ears (read The Verve Story reviews for more information). Bumpin On The Underground brings in Perry Hues for some smooth guitar action, and The Scat Groove has Gwen Fox doing that vintage “a-hey a'ya a'ya zim'da a'dem-dem a'daya” of jazzy lore.

Throughout it all, Scott Grooves lays down, well, solid house grooves, never letting his production overshadow his guest musicians. He's got a few, regular jams to himself for that (Pieces Of a Dream, New Day, Feels So Good), deep house with a touch of that futurist vibe Detroit is so well known for. Folks may come for the P-funk, but guaranteed they'll leave sated by the D-funk.

Flying Lotus - Until The Quiet Comes

Warp Records: 2012

Probably not the best album to get one’s ears wet with Flying Lotus, this. Even in his modest outings, the dude takes a rather challenging approach to his beat work and song craft, finding confounding ways of manipulating conventional funk, hip-hop, soul, and the jazz that fuses them together (say what?). It’s definitely a style that will get you noticed by all the talking-head rags out there, forever eager in discovering and hyping a unique approach to familiar music, and FlyLo fast became a critical darling in the mid-‘00s. By second LP, he was signed to Warp Records, and as the praise steadily increased, so did Mr. Ellison’s desire to challenge himself. Thus we arrive at his fourth album, Until The Quiet Comes, a point when he has nothing left to prove to anyone but his own musical ambition. Oh yeah, we’re getting into Serious Artist territory with this one.

Of course, the notion of Flying Lotus getting a pile of Real Musicians in the studio with him first germinated with his previous album, Cosmogramma. That was more a feeling-out process though, taking the abstract-hop and broken funk that defined his earlier work and seeing if it could work in a traditional band setting (well, as traditional as jazz-fusion gets). Those results must have satisfied FlyLo, as he takes things even further here, trying out more genre-fusion, with more musicians in the studio, and more tracks filling out the album! Okay, only one more track, but still, MOAR!

Names returning for this session include Flying Lotus mainstays bassist Thundercat, harpist Rebekah Raff, stringster Miguel Atwood-Ferguson, vocalist Laura Darlington, and Brit-warbler Thom Yorke. Coming in for the Quiet Comes party are keyboardist Austin Peralta, other-keyboardist Brandon Coleman, drummer Jean Coy, and soul-Goddess Eryakah Badu. Geez, how does one top that in a follow-up - a hot contemporary rapper, or an actual jazz legend on the keyboards? (yep, and FlyLo done did it in You’re Dead!).

And as for the music on Until The Quiet Comes …look, we all know this is the sort of stuff musicians make just to annoy folks who like dancing about architecture [citation needed]. I can tell you that Tiny Tortures has a minimalist, blippy thing going on, or that The Nightcaller stomps out the spaced-out P-funk vibes, or that Phantasm oozes and creeps about in dreamy psychedelic-pop, but how helpful are such descriptors in a record such as this? Tracks come and go at such an erratic, rapid pace; few have much chance of sinking in before you’re trying to peel the musical layers of the next tune. Some pieces thematically meld together so well, you won’t even notice a clutch of tracks have played past, whereas others shift tones so suddenly it’ll give your cochlea whiplash.

I do come back to Until The Quiet Comes every so often, just to hear if I can pick out any additional nuance that slipped by before. Should casual music listening be such like homework, though?

Floating Points - Elaenia

Luaka Bop: 2015

Another ‘Best Of 2015’ album? Sure, keep ‘em coming. Can’t have my finger on the pulse of what’s what if I ignore things that are now ‘n how. Sure, it’s comforting retreating to familiar names and sounds (‘member ambient techno? ‘member Aphex Twin? ‘member Fax +49-69/450464? Yeah, Fax Plus-Numbers… so great), but it’s always wise hearing the new hotness on the streets. Besides, with so much constantly recycled these days, all which is new is so very old, yet sometimes refined into something better. Not often, mind, but since we’re dealing with a chap who got his break with Ninja Tune, I’ll take a wager we’re dealing with the real deal regarding Floating Points.

The man behind this project is Sam Shepherd, whom I constantly think is the name of the Mass Effect protagonist. Fool, if I’m gonna’ mistake a ‘shepherd’, make it at least a real one, like actor Sam Shepard, of Black Hawk Down, The Right Stuff, and Swordfish fame. Or maybe Sam Sheppard, the infamous neurosurgeon who’s murder trial became the basis for The Fugitive. In what must be a coincidence of the highest magnitude, Floating Points Sam Shepherd has also spent time attaining a degree in neuroscience, though clearly that’s where his connection with that other Sam Sheppard ends. As Floating Points, he’s spent the past half-decade releasing music with a fondness of nu-jazz in his sights, hence the Ninja Tune love. He’s also released on Planet Mu and Border Community, though his own print of Eglo Records remains his primary outlet - all the while doing DJ tours, radio shows, and live performances with a full band as Floating Points Ensamble. So, y’know, if the brain science career doesn’t pan out for him, he’s definitely got that music thing to fall back on.

Elaenia is his debut album, and it’s an odd record for sure. I don’t know if I’d give it a “Best Of 2015” accolade (like I give anything that), but it definitely leaves a lasting impression, a rather remarkable feat for an LP that’s rather short. Second track Silhouettes (I, II & III), an extended jazz jam with the full band, runs nearly eleven minutes long, and that’s almost one-quarter the whole record! Another significant chunk of Elaenia comprises of minimalist ambient techno, much of which reminds me of music that came from Pete Namlook’s ‘90s output. Then again, it could be all those Dark Side Of The Moog sessions still fresh on my mind making the connection, but one cannot deny the Berlin-School influences on tracks like the titular track and Thin Air. Heck, the middle portion of this album kinda’ plays out as a singular sequence, each track flowing into the next so effortlessly.

But nay, the biggest talking point regarding Elaenia remains how it ends. Perotation Six gets the band back together, and builds to a rousing, cacophonous climax in





And you’re left wanting in silence, endlessly waiting for a denouement that never comes. Tricksy, these brain science guys are.

Tosca - Dehli9

Studio !K7: 2003

It shouldn’t have taken this long to finally nab myself a Tosca album. For sure I’ve gathered a few tracks over the years, mostly found on compilations showcasing dubby, downtempo tunes with a light jazz inflection. Theirs is a sound that finds a cool middle-ground between ambient dub of Sounds From The Ground, and ethnic-infused lounge-hop of Thievery Corporation. As you’d expect when one-half of the immortal downtempo duo Kruder & Dorfmeister is involved, though it surprises me Richard’s work with Rupert Huber doesn’t get near as much fame as his work with Peter. He’s worked with both for about the same amount of time, Tosca forming in the mid-‘90s. And while the K&D sessions gave Dorfmeister plenty of plaudits, it’s his work alongside Mr. Huber that continues to this day, at least ten albums deep into a two-decade long partnership, not to mention oodles of ‘dub version’ albums. For all intents, this should be the Dorfmeister project that everyone gushes over, but man, that The K&D Sessions™, eh?

Dehli9 is Tosca’s third LP, which I grabbed because it was the first return in an Amazon search. Yeah, can’t claim doing much research into the duo’s ‘Essential Albums’ list, going in with arms out, ears open, and expectations unsullied by other people’s opinions. Which I guess makes me a tad contradictory, if you’re reading this for my opinion before indulging Dehli9 yourself. Really, I just assume it’s searches for confirmation bias that lures folks into reading reviews anymore, though maybe a little exploration outside comfort zones factors into it too – also, quips aplenty!

I actually knew at least one track off here, the jazzy reggae tune Gute Laune, appearing on the Studio !K7 celebratory showcase compilation !K7150. Heck, that song alone helped clue me into getting off my duffer and check out this other Dorfmeister project, despite how long it took me getting around to it. Much of Dehli9 plays to this sound, which tends to be the Tosca style regardless. Tracks like Me & Yoko Ono and Every Day & Every Night go more for a dubby trip-hop vibe, whereas jazzy deep house feature on tunes like Rolf Royce, Spert, La Vendeuse Des Chaussures Des Femmes Part 1, and lead single Wonderful. And we can’t forget some Latin-fusion for good measure (Oscar, Dave Dudley), plus whatever form of jazz-hop is going on in Mango Di Bango, because why not.

Dehli9 is a fine downtempo album, classy as it needs to be, though admittedly keeping an even keel where this music is concerned – you can find this sound on oodles of compilations throughout the ‘00s. Tosca sweetens the deal then, with a second CD of piano pieces, apparently all based on a book Huber wrote called 12 Easy To Play Piano Pieces. These are all very much in the minimalist modern classical mold, though with just enough ambient treatment they’re distinct from much piano music out there. Unless you’re well versed in the works of Harold Budd, anyway.