The Future Sound Of London - Accelerator

Jumpin' & Pumpin'/Hypnotic: 1991/2002

The only Future Sound Of London album you need, if you listen to certain sorts of people. Let's call them 'stuck in The Haçienda' kind of people, UK ravers who never grew beyond that era's acid house scene, will only accept electronic music as it sounded then, and not a month later. Never mind that Brian Dougans and Garry Cobain ventured forth into new, fascinating realms of pure headtrip, mind-fuck album works – it's just not danceable, mate. I sense, though, such folks are forlorn at the coulda'-been, the shoulda'-been of FSOL's potential as studio hounds producing clubbing fodder. They made so many classic, genre-defining tunes at the time, the possibilities of what they might have done after had they scaled back the arty, pretentious aspirations boggles the mind. But nay, the lads from Manchester had grander visions in mind.

And I get it – oh man, do I ever get it. For as much as I've continued enjoying FSOL's work, there's an undeniable addictive simplicity about the tunes on Accelerator that remain effective to this day. Papua New Guinea, obviously, but I've no doubt tracks like the future-shock breaks of Expander, acid-bleep dopeness of Calcium, and blissed-out trancey acid house of Pulse State would be just as effective in any contemporary setting. Hell, I heard 1 In 8 at a music festival this past summer. 1 In 8, one of the 'filler' tracks on this album! Who plays 1 In 8 in this age? A DJ at Basscoast, apparently.

Still, one cannot deny there's some rather dated material on Accelerator too. Despite the smashing opening of Expander (oh, you just know Sasha cribbed that title), Stolen Documents is little more than a peppy transitional track of bleepy sounds and chirpy acid funk. While Others Cry has a little more personality going for it with its Balearic-Jamaican vibe (yes, really), nice for a sway in a hammock or beach lounge. On the other hand though, It's Not My Problem and Moscow have the unenviable task of bookmarking the album centrepiece of Papua New Guinea, and in being such abrasive, boshing tunes, neither are capable of it – you're just waiting for Papua while Problem is playing, and Moscow always feels like a comedown from New Guinea. As for hints at where FSOL would take their music, Central Industrial slows things down and plays up the future-shock scenery full-tilt. Psygnosis Studios were definitely paying attention.

When Accelerator was rolled out for a tenth anniversary re-issue, it included a bonus disc of Papua New Guinea remixes. Most of them take the tune's basic structure and re-purposes them into a particular genre (Satoshi Tomiie does the prog thing, Hybrid do the prog-breaks thing, Oil do the funk-dub thing). The most interesting of the lot are the Simian Mix, where the rock band turns Papua into a bizarre, stoned, jazz-stomp indie hoe-down (I'm sure Gary loved it), and Andrew Weatherall's eleven-minute rub – progressive house of epic proportions, that one!

Hybrid - I Choose Noise

Distinct'ive Records: 2006

(a Patreon Request from Omskbird)

I Choose Noise is what I was expecting Morning Sci-Fi to sound like. Which is funny, because by the year 2006, I thought Hybrid was well onto their 'we are soundtrack composers now' stage. Like, I don't recall much promotion for I Choose Noise's singles. I'm sure tracks like Dogstar and Falling Down did well enough on the DJ circuit, but how represented your tunes are on compilations tends to signify actual popularity (yes, even in the mid-'00s), and if folks were mostly clamouring for a trend-whorish remix of an old single, well...

For those who'd been clamouring for another Wide Angle though, I Choose Noise finds Truman and Healings bringing the sophisticated songcraft back to the fore, with all the acoustic guitar interludes and orchestral arrangements some undoubtedly felt lacking in Morning Sci-Fi. Now, I liked the 'dumber' music of Morning Sci-Fi, but that's because I feel Hybrid are at their best when making 'dumb' music, utilizing their breakbeat science in ways my reptile brain interprets as transcendent (Live Angle still their best LP, no doubt).

And there are some of those wonderfully 'dumb' moments on I Choose Noise, including the titular cut, big aggressive beats boshing things out as an urgent string section wonderfully builds tension. Last Man Standing gets funkier with the breakbeat science, harking back to the days when such tunes were found aplenty and cyber-action movies of the late '90s – how odd to hear it in the year 2006, I wager. Hooligan Spirit dips its toes into boshing electo, as though the cyborg police are on the march for criminal hackers, and Dream Stalker gets Peter Hook back on the bass guitar for another smooth slice of progressive breaks that wouldn't sound out of place in a movie credit roll.

Ah, hm, y'know, I'm getting quite the sense of these tunes being written with films in mind. Hybrid had released a collection of music intended for potential movies the year prior (Scores), and while these are far denser in arrangement than simple background fodder, I can't say any real hook or melody latches on the same way older tunes have. Dogstar is a well crafted single, with all the things folks who love Hybrid come to enjoy (strong rhythms, strong lead singer, nice instrumentation, smart use of an orchestra), but Lord help me if I had to hum it to anyone. You'd think tunes like Falling Down or Until Tomorrow, with actual choruses, would have some sort of hook, but Hybrid's production smooths everything out into a dense wall-of-sound almost to a fault. At least I remember Choke for that weird bell tone over a trip-hop beat.

I Choose Noise ends on another big orchestral anthem of Just For Today, clearly trying to ape Wide Angle's climax of Finished Symphony. It doesn't quite hit the mark, but as a whole, I liked this album more, even if the individual tunes don't stick with me as much as Wide Angle's. Weird how that works sometimes.

Eat Static - Abduction (2018 Update)

Planet Dog/Attic: 1993/1995

(click here to read my original TranceCritic review)

Finally, an album long overdue for a spiffy re-review, one of my earliest, cumbersome efforts. Time to give this early goa trance classic the prose it justly deserves, none of that regrettably dry track-by-track description nonsense. Let's do this! *cracks knuckles* ...*stares at screen* ...*re-cracks knuckles* ...*makes some tea* ...*checks Twitter and Facebook for a bit* ...*watches some Ten Minute History videos on Youtube*(hehe, *thunk*) ...*stretches every ligament in body*...*stares at screen some more* ...*receives call from Seattle friend that he's waylaid at the Vancouver airport overnight, so meet-up for drinks and a VIP showing of The Freddy Mercury Movie* ...*gets back to computer, stares at screen even more* ...*realizes he's succumbed to paralysis by analysis*

Okay, so turns out I have perhaps a tad too much on my mind, with no clear idea of how to approach. Like, all the traditional angles are covered elsewhere (historical importance, themes explored, etc., etc.), and I see little point in re-iterating points. Really, there's only one that immediately springs to mind, and as usual, it relates to where things sat when I wrote that first review.

Oh, not so much me, as I've gone over that plenty 'nuff. No, I'm talking about Eat Static themselves, and how their career was looking in the dread year 2005 (music-wise, at least). It'd been four years since their last album, In The Nude!, which may not seem like a long time, but for an act that was releasing LPs on a near yearly clip, is quite a gap. And even then, were they still considered part of the psy trance lexicon? That album plus previous Crash And Burn! were showing far greater exploration outside the conventional psy parameters, which wasn't too surprising given the general trajectory the old goa guard seemed headed. Juno Reactor was getting big and opulent with Japanese concerts and orchestras, and Simon Posford had redefined psy-dub for a new generation, so why wouldn't Eat Static, what with a prog-rock background, also start feeling the need for something different? They must have worked it all out of their system though, as by 2007, they'd come back into the psy fold with De-Classified. And yeah, I didn't like that one at first, feeling it a regression of their songcraft, but compared to most psy of that time, has aged remarkably well.

And Eat Static (mostly just Merv now) just keep crankin' out the LPs, almost at the same rate as the '90s. Who'd have guessed they'd still be doing this when Abduction was released? Heck, who'd have predicted that scene itself would take the twisted turns it did. Listening to Abduction now, with how much it owes itself to the progressive house of the era as anything Goa or alien based, there truly is a sense of the UK raving masses still being a communal thing, willing to hear any crazy new idea so long as the rhythms last, the melodies soar, and the pills remain pure.

Hybrid - Morning Sci-Fi

Distict'ive Records: 2003

(a Patreon Request from Omskbird)

I'm sure I liked Wide Angle - I definitely know I liked Wider Angle for the Live Angle bonus CD. Unfortunately, a few things held back a love for Hybrid's debut album, none more prominent than a sense the duo's artistic pretensions didn't always match the finished product. They wanted to move beyond the easy club fodder, creating high-culture music for a cultured audience. Cool, bro, but that leaves those who adored the breakbeat science wanting in the wind. How can such folks get their flail on when a French rapper is crooning over a trip-hop rhythm?

I won't deny being in that camp, making me wary of checking anything after Wider Angle. Figured Hybrid would continue the super-sophisticated music explorations, the blinding breaks they made their name on a mere stepping stone to higher, loftier goals in the music world, thus a journey I wasn't much interested in joining with. As continues being the case, I should have got that tree trunk out of my rump sooner, because fuck me if Morning Sci-Fi is better than Wide Angle by a... erm, broad space.

It starts as I initially feared (well, properly starts, discounting the secret song hiding in the CD's negative space), with Hybrid throwing oh-so many ideas into a soup of genre fusion, with production ultra-crisp and clean such that it kinda' neuters whatever teeth the song has. Like, there's things I like in True To Form (can never go wrong with a Reese bass growl, and it's nice hearing those New Order vibes from Peter Hook), but with the obligatory orchestral swells and limp lyrics from Adam Taylor, it once again sounds like Hybrid's clutching for musical opulence they just can't quite grasp.

Then Know Your Enemy hits, and hits fuckin' hard with the progressive breaks action I love from these guys, and all is right again. Then third cut Marrakech hits, and I'm thrown for a loop, the tune some sort of psychedelic trip-hop outing that wouldn't sound out of place in a FSOL Environments LP. Ain't no way that's gonna' get a “most moving pieces of electronic music” plaudit, but it definitely earns an uber thumbs-up from me! And while I prefer Hybrid's instrumentals, Adam Taylor sounds great in I'm Still Awake, the music complementing rather than burying him as though his voice is just another layer in an overstuffed cake.

And goodness, how are there so many kick-ass club tracks on this album? It's not as relentless as Live Angle (obviously it couldn't be), but the block featuring Visible Noise, We Are In Control and Higher Than A Skyscraper gives that CD serious competition. The final clutch of tracks gets back to the lyrical stuff, with Kirsty Hawkshaw providing a full range of octaves on the closer Blackout. This was honestly what I was expecting out of Morning Sci-Fi, but given the highly kinetic, super energetic tuneage that preceded it, by all means, Misters Truman and Healings, have at your sophisticated songcraft.

Cirrus - Drop The Break

Moonshine Music: 1997

For as much as Moonshine Music pushed Cirrus as one of their premiere acts, I seldom gave them much attention. It never seemed prudent, see, so often appearing on compilations like Big Dirty Beats 2, Moonshine Overamerica 98, This Ain't Trip Hop?, plus assorted soundtracks (I've reviewed a few). The Los Angeles posse were well promoted by their label, making sure they could hang with all the big big-beat boys of the day (The Crystal Brothers, The Chemical Method, Junkie So Slim, Fatboy XXXL). As Cirrus never got name-dropped in discussion of “most essential breaks albums”, I just forgot about them, save the occasional spotting in a used shop. As in this case!

Actually, I'd already heard Drop The Break, one of my old Rupert peers having a copy for himself. I recall generally liking what I heard from it, surprised by the diversity on display for a supposed big-beat group. It honestly sounds like it was made a couple years prior, before big-beat was really a thing, much less a genre to board a bandwagon upon. Besides, Cirrus were still mixing things up with the acid breaks scene of California, their ravey roots far more prominent than any aspirations for rock-approved crossover success. Maybe they were hedging their bets a bit in dipping their fingers into any genre they could at the time, though once it became clear their biggest hits were big funky breaks, it's no surprise they committed to that road.

For now though, anything hot with the Moontribe crew was open game. You like house music? Then Cirrus has the hook-up with Superstar DJ and the slightly proggier Nassau. Or how about that good ol' tweakin' chemical breaks action, with the acid knobs twiddlin'? Then Leap Into The Light or the titular cut have you covered. Big obvious breaks anthems with all the James Brown samples you can handle more to your taste? Break In should sate your needs, especially the Transatlantic Move Mix (original's more proper big-beat bosh). Eh, you don't vibe with breaks at all, as it don't compare to the real business that is jungle? Well hey, guess what, Cirrus made a d'n'b cut too, the super peppy, piano jam October 27! Okay, this one might also be Venn Diagramming with happy hardcore.

If this all sounds too upbeat and hectic for you, then don't fret, as Cirrus show off their chill side throughout the album as well. Ghetto Of Life is breaks on the downbeat, Superstar is funky breaks on the downbeat, and Yallah Babibe is breaks on the su-u-u-per downbeat, suffocating in a thick smoke of hashish. Finally, there's Bionic Hippy, a tune that sounds like it should have been on an old-school progressive house collection rather than the closer of a supposed breaks record. No, wait, there's also a right funky slow-jammin' jam as a secret song as the proper closer. Man, Drop The Break is about as mid-'90s an 'electronica' LP as it gets with that.

ACE TRACKS: March 2018

It's a strange sensation, this. Not having any pressing need to push forward with another review soon. Even when I took the occasional month-long sabbatical, I still had a set date for when I'd hit the keyboard again. And while it's about 95% certain I'll pick things up again here, I don't have a particular day picked out for it either. It could be mid-month, it could me many months (not likely), all dependant on how fast and productive I am with other tasks demanding my current attention. With this new 'freedom', however, I can go about listening to whatever music I want, not worrying about any set schedule or orderly list. Why, I can even explore music outside my usual interests and expertise since there's no pressure to write reviews for them on an electronic music blog! Country! Jazz! Polka! Schlaagger! Zanzibaran taarab! Zouk! Hotel pop!

Or, y'know, just stay in my lane. That works too. Anyhow, here's the ACE TRACKS for March of 2018:


Full track list here.


MISSING ALBUMS:
ZerO One - zerO One
Mick Chillage - Zen Diagrams
Plank & Ishq - Zeal Monachorum
Various - Frankie Bones: You Know My Name
Various - Y9: Nine Years Of Psychonavigation Records

Percentage of Hip-Hop: 0%
Percentage Of Rock: 30%
Most “WTF?” Track: Wednesday Campanella - Uranium-Chan (so wonderfully unexpected of anything)

Reverse alphabetical order! I mean, it kinda' makes sense to give the Z and Y songs top billing since I just finished going through Y and Z albums. Surprising there even is a few tracks like that here – artists don't often title tunes with those letters.

Very heavy on the '70s music and music that sounds like it could have been made in the '70s. There's also music that sounds like it could be from the '80s, but is clearly made in the Nowies, some music from the '00s, and... wow, nothing from the '90s? That's got to be a first. Pole Folder at least sounds like he could have been from the '90s though, so close enough.

Pole Folder - Zero Gold

Bedrock Records: 2005

This has to be one of the most '90s sounding progressive albums I've ever heard. Unfortunately for Pole Folder, Zero Gold came out in 2005, half a decade past when having a top notch '90s progressive album would make serious bank (in that scene, anyway).

For sure this album had its fans and supporters, especially from proponents for progressive purity (I think Progressive-Sounds gave it a 12/10, with a seal of Digweed Approved), but by the mid-'00s, most folks were well past vibing on anything sounding like it came from the Clinton Years. Big beat was dead. Tech step was dead. Happy hardcore was so very, very dead. Instead, newer fresher sounds like liquid funk, electro house, minimal-tech, and whatever it is you want to call Pendulum's style ('Pendulum Jungle'?) was getting the buzz, not to mention a rediscovering of '80s aesthetics after the '90s had disowned it. Progressive house was no different, poppier McProg singles having massive success in the wake of the darker, super-serious 'prog' that came before. By the year 2005, the transition was complete, progressive of days past but a shadow of its former glory, Zero Gold left an album out of time when the kids just wanted to hear another Gabriel & Dresden breakdown. And people wonder why Digweed went 'minimal' after this.

Of course, we're over a decade removed from all that, so the fact Zero Gold was released in 2005 is a moot point. You can throw this album on today and enjoy it for all its '90s-ness, (oh my, Scared To Lose could have been an Erotica-era Madonna track!), maybe even more so since that decade's music has seen some rejuvenation in recent years. Always twenty years, always.

Fancy yourself some of that vintage cinematic trip-hop that made Massive Attack huge stars? Pole Folder's got you well covered, tracks like Abrasion, Waterfalls Of Love, and Faith In Me perfectly custom made for the credit roll of a mid-budget cyberpunk thriller. And speaking of, dear me, does Inner Turmoil ever want to be a Fluke track as heard in The Matrix. Other 'prog' beasts include Salvation On Slavery Sins and London, while Mr. Folder also mixes things up with the broken beats in the spacier Before It All Changes. Elsewhere, in case you absolutely had to have a 'twinkle prog' outing in your 2005 album, Morning Crow does inch around the fringes of that sound.

Like any good '90s prog album, tunes are nicely spaced between the downbeat, lyrical pieces and the club-ready uptempo jams, with enough variety holding your attention throughout. At ten tracks though, Zero Gold feels short, like it's missing a proper coda moment. As the final cut on the album, the energetic Before It All Changes leaves you wanting, suggesting there's more to come after, even if it's just an ambient outro. Maybe that hanging feeling was intended to lead into a sophomore album, but it never happened, Zero Gold remaining Pole Folder's lone LP effort (so sayeth Lord Discogs).

Flowjob - Zentertainment (Original TC Review)

Iboga Records: 2008

(2018 Update:
Oh man, while re-listening to this album, I came up with the perfect analogy to describe it. Get ready for this, it'll blow your mind. So, like, you know how cars have, like, five gears, with the first being the slowest, and the fifth being the fastest? Flowjob's debut album, Support Normality, was often hitting that peak of fourth gear, but would have been super-boss if it had a track or two that hit the fifth. Zentertainment, on the other hand, seems stuck in second gear for most of its runtime, occasionally squeaking into third, but seldom with much lasting success. Isn't that such an awesome analogy? What do you mean a George Harrison quote's coming to mind?

After this album, Mads Tinggaard left the group, but Joakim Hjørne's carried on the Flowjob banner to this day, even releasing an album in 2016. I browsed some of his recent material, and it sounds decent enough for contemporary prog-psy, but not much distinctive compared to most other stuff out there, missing that super-infectious groove these early efforts provided. May have to dig further to find out whether it disappeared after Mads' departure, or if it was a gradual thing.)


IN BRIEF: Sophomore stumble.

Strong debuts are common in the rock music industry. Whether thanks to initial innocence, talented hunger, or a nurtured push, such musicians often bring vital enthusiasm to their freshman efforts. Following that up with a solid second effort tends to be far more difficult, though, for a number of reasons that needn’t be brought up at this point; anyone with a passing familiarity with the music business would know them anyway. However, because dance music is a market dominated more by the single than the album, the dreaded Sophomore Slump occurs far less often. Heck, despite dozens of EPs, some producers don’t even get around to releasing a full-length. In this regard, the psy branch of EDM probably has the most in common with rock counterparts, as it is quite possibly the only large scene within dance culture that is primarily dominated by LPs.

As such, like rockers, many psy acts fall prey to second-album stumbles. Where it seems there’s agreeable debut albums from countless names monthly, strong follow-ups are increasingly rare. It’s as though all their great ideas are used up in one shot, and instead of easing through the in-between with singles, they rush out with a second album that sounds like a bunch of B-sides to the first.

And does Flowjob’s new album Zentertainment succumb to these pratfalls? Come-come now, surely you’ve learned how these introductory paragraphs go? Fortunately for the Denmark duo, it is only marginally so.

For those just tuning in to the Flowjob sound, Misters Hjorne and Tinggaard made an immediate impact with their 2006 debut album Support Normality on the burgeoning prog-psy label Iboga. I've already covered that release, but in case you’re not up for reading one of our older, rather clumsily-written reviews (we were still new at it, honest!), here’s the abridged version: infectiously groovy, wonderfully vibey, free-flowing prog that flirted between house and trance throughout, with very little actual psy influences considering the label it appeared on. Although some of the tracks on that album could have used more energetic climaxes, Flowjob’s sound was still highly enjoyable. Two years on now, where do we find the Denmark duo?

A surface scan reveals them to be cruising along right where they left off. Flowjob’s distinct neo-Tokyo electro-coo’ sound is all over Zentertainment, so if you come in looking for more of that, you’re in for a treat. And on the rhythmic end, they’re just as infectious as ever. You could potentially ignore a track for most of its duration, but once something grabs your attention, it hooks you in and you’re locked in for the ride. A welcome addition to their production are craftier basslines that are unafraid to leap off the loop-rails. If things are sounding fine and dandy, though, then what’s the problem I hinted at above?

Frankly, what’s missing from Zentertainment is a sense of thrill. I really don’t want to compare albums because even if it is not the case I have to assume the reader is coming into this one cold; however, when a follow-up lacks the same energy a debut has, comparisons are inevitably made. Flowjob has scaled back their music such that it comes off quaint and pleasant now, which of itself is fine for casual moments or warm-up periods at parties. But when you hear potential for more lurking beneath you can’t help but come away with lingering thoughts of “what if...” This was what impeded Support Normality from reaching some truly exhilarating highs, and now that Zentertainment finds Flowjob in an even mellower mood, their music comes off very subdued. The first half of this album does maintain a decent sense of flow, though. It’s all pleasant sounding with spacey pads, catchy (if overused) vocal samples, and undeniably groovy rhythms.

Once the lovely trance vibes of Don’t Believe In Mirrors ends, though, chances are you’ll be wanting Zentertainment to either ratchet-up the energy or offer something new. Flowjob provides the latter; unfortunately, it seriously drops the album into a kind of middling variation of their sound with lower BPMs and odd hooks. There are moments that’ll still grab your attention but unlike prior work, it never seems to go anywhere. It sounds as though the duo, like so many sophomore efforts, are trying to experiment in areas where they don’t have quite the musical fortitude to make work, all the while their strengths are sorely hindered in the process. And unfortunately, it ends the album on a rather limp note.

A bad album, then? No, not really. For the most part, it is still enjoyable, and if anything Zentertainment is charming enough for chiller moments. If you missed out on Flowjob’s debut, however, this one probably won’t do much for you.

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

Banco de Gaia - You Are Here

Six Degrees Records: 2004

You Are Here is Banco de Gaia's worst album.

I was tempted to just leave it there, move on, and eat up self-imposed word count with discussions of puppies, or kittens, or puptens, or kitpies (surely merging all that adorableness will result in something uber-adorable!). Besides, while it's fun to tear into utter crap EDM or banal trance bollocks now and then, it's lame getting hyper-critical like some edgelord YouTuber at my age, especially if it's with regard to an artist I actually like. But then I got wondering, why do I dislike You Are Here so much? While I enjoy most of Toby Marks' music, even I cannot deny he's thrown up a few dud tracks along the way, stuff that doesn't move my mojo in favour of his mint material. This album though, so much of it just feels regrettably off to my ears, such that I need to unpack this, understand why I rank it so low in Banco's discography.

Where to begin? How about the thing that's immediately noticeable and casts a shiny, slick, sucky sheen on everything: the mixdown. You know how there's a difference between a rock album from the '70s, and one from the '80s, in that the latter often sounds flatter and stripped of analogue warmth? That's what it's like listening to You Are Here compared to every other Banco album. Dear Lord, but does it ever sound digitally flat to me, as though the soul of Marks' music is completely absent. So many bass textures are DOA (glaringly so on Waking Up In Waco and Not In My Name), that it makes sitting through them a cringing chore. This, from a musician who can have you hanging on every second in a half-hour-plus excursion through Kincajou! Even Marks must have realized this digital mastering wasn't working for him, as he went back to an analogue mixdown in his follow-up Farewell Ferengistan, with much improved results.

That leads me to my second point: I can never remember how the back-end of this album goes. After the radical tonal shifts between the twelve-minutes long, slow blues-jazz croon of Gray Over Gray, into the cheeky pop-house romp of Tongue In Chic, the remaining three tracks of You Are Here always and utterly evaporate from memory, sometimes even right after they've played. This is the only Banco album where that happens to me! No matter their quality, every tune on every other album sticks in my brain meat, but Not In My Name, We Are Here, and Still Life? Fifteen years on, and still nada despite many attempts.

Then there's the heavy-handed political sloganeering (even for a Banco album), the genre dalliances that never led to future explorations, and that initial nagging dread that, after 10 Years, Banco de Gaia might have nothing left in the creative tank. Thankfully, You Are Here proved more an aberration than a trend, so I'll end on a positive note: Zeus No Like Techno remains good stupid fun.

ACE TRACKS: February 2018

Whoo, not only did I finally polish off that seemingly endless backlog, but knocked off another main letter too! Yeah, it was only 'X', but gander: five albums made up that little block, which is more than pathetic 'Q' ever had. The next three largest letters in my collection are 'Y', 'J', and 'Z'. Kind of surprised 'Y' doesn't have many albums, as you'd think more artists would title their works with a 'You'. They sure like that 'No', tho'.

But yes, that means, after sixty-four months and nearly 1,400 reviews, the end is in sight. Baring complete societal collapse, I should be able to finish within the month that which I set out to do so many years ago – to listen to every item in my music collection in alphabetical order. Only... I won't be finished, will I? There's a whole new backlog that's been forming even as I was going through the last one, with at least a couple month's worth of material to work from. Not to mention the clutch of albums that make up “#, A, B, & Ck” that I never wrote reviews for. Can't forget those!

So yeah, even though I should wrap 'Y' and 'Z' by spring, I'm not finished, not by a long shot. I'm also considering a couple additional ideas, but will touch upon those later. For now, here's the ACE TRACKS for the month of February 2018:


Full track list here.


MISSING ALBUMS:
Various - United DJs Of America, Vol. 3: Josh Wink – Philadelphia, PA
Various - Rewind: Taylor – Resonance
Various - United DJs Of America, Vol. 14: DJ Soul Slinger
Various - X-Mix-2: Laurent Garnier - Destination Planet Dream

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 7%
Percentage Of Rock: 7%
Most “WTF?” Track: Always the everlasting Oak Ridge Boys.

Obviously none of the X-Mix or United DJs Of America series are on Spotify, but aside from some of the oldest editions, plenty of their tracks are. Of course, if you really want to hear those X-Mix albums, the full VHS rips are on YouTube as well, so no excuses!

Because of the huge spotlight on those CDs, techno and house dominate this playlist, with a couple token glances of trance, progressive, rock, rap, synth-pop, ambient, downtempo, and country. No dark ambient though, which has to be a first in, like, forever. A very '90s sounding playlist, all said, even from the more modern tunes included.

Sasha - Xpander EP (2018 Update)

Ultra Records: 1999

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review)


Feels like this has been a lo-o-o-o-ong time coming, the last of my earliest reviews needing a proper overhaul. Technically, that's not true, another from those first few shaky months of TranceCritic writing lurking down (up?) in the 'A's of my album collection. Doubt there's much anticipation for another Eat Static review though, whereas everyone's always interested in another take on Xpander. Especially when one's original take is a grotesque word salad of amateur track-by-track detailing.

Frankly though, there's not much I can expand upon the Xpander discourse (except bad puns, clearly). The tune holds up astoundingly well two-decades on, still sounding light-years beyond what its prog contemporaries were offering, and there was no lack of bombs from the year 1999, believe you me. I mean, obviously the big synth leads and twinkly melodies are the memorable features, but mang', listen to what's going on in that rhythm too! What even is that burbling, churning low-end? Not the bassline, that's for sure – it's just superficial fluff, yet the sound design on it is astounding! Is it any wonder folks were hot for Airdrawndagger to drop if that level of detail was put into a big, obvious anthem like Xpander? Imagine hearing such music for a whole album's worth. No, really, keep imagining it – we never did get what folks were expecting with Sasha's final LP effort.

It's not like Mr. Coe had to craft such an exquisitely produced track with Charlie May. When this single came out, it was more in service as what was expected of top tier DJs of the time. No matter how deep your crates, how impeccable your track selection, or how masterful your mixing, the punters of the world demanded a signature anthem to your name. Digweed had Heaven Scent, Oakenfold had If I Could Fly, Tenaglia had Elements, Tiësto had his remix of Delerium's Silence, and so on. So too it appeared the case with Sasha's Xpander, the requisite anthem folks going to his shows could happily expect to hear every time. Only he overshot, and now the tune is getting orchestral remakes. Take that, Digweed!

The other tunes on this EP were obviously overshadowed when Xpander first dropped, but have gained more respect over the years for not being as blatant as the main track is. If anything, it showcases where Sasha's muse more generally wanders, never quite coalescing into something easily identifiable while plucking traits of personal favourites of his past. Belfunk's got that chuggy, proggy groove before melting into Orbital, morning-after bliss. Rabbitweed gets in on that ominous prog-breaks business with shades of Way Out West thrown in – and again, just an insane amount of detail in the percussion. Baja provides the lengthy chill, comedown vibe with ethnic samples and dubby percussion. Huh, y'know, under another producer's handle, this could have passed for psy-dub. Never noticed that before. Oh, the strange alternative timeline we could have lived in had Sasha been swayed into the psy camps instead.

Various - Soma Records: 20 Years (Soma Classics)

Soma Quality Recordings: 2011

Has there been any UK label more influential than Soma Quality Recordings? Yes, yes there has. Many more, in fact, and I could name-drop a dozen of them off the top of my head. I won't, though, because this is supposed to be a summation of Soma, a label that often likens itself as Very Important, but is honestly more like Kinda' Important. Still, they've released a lot of classic tech-house and techno over the years, and was a go-to source for many top progressive house jocks from the lands of Britannica. They've been steady homes for Slam, The Black Dog (Phase II), Samuel L Session, Silicone Soul, Funk D'Void, and DeepChord. Soma also introduced me to one of my all-time favourite artists of the past decade in Vector Lovers, and that's gotta' count for something. Oh, and a French house duo got their break on this label too, though they were quickly lured away by big Virgin dollars, so we needn't talk about them.

Oh, fine, I guess I must. I mean, it's practically the selling point of this 20 Years blowout, plastered all over the front cover. Frankly, I was more excited getting an unmixed version of their rub on Scott Grooves' Mothership Reconnection, one of the last before becoming robots. All that prime-era French filter funk in full effect, mmmm... Oh, right, the exclusive, unreleased cut, made before even Da Funk, when they were still doing hard acid house with Conor Dalton. Okay, my review of Daft Punk's Drive: it's a'ight.

I have half the tunes on the Soma Classics disc already, but in DJ mixes, so it's nice having them mostly in their full, original versions. Kinda' gutted that Desert Storm from Desert Storm is missing the intro portion with the war dialog and tasty pads on their own, but since this CD maximizes its runtime, some space needed saving.

Three Slam tracks make the cut (thumping acid techno of Positive Education, loopy hypnotic techno of Azure, Pt. 1, and vintage Balaeric progressive house of Eterna), because it's their label, damn it. And no Soma classics CD would be complete without inclusions from Silicone Soul (Right On, Right On), Funk d'Void (Diabla, though the lighter Heavenly Mix instead), The Black Dog (Cost II, by way of a 2007 reissue loophole since the 1993 original came out on General Production Recordings), Percy X (X-Trak 1 letting Detroit know that Soma recognizes the roots), and Samuel L Session. Interestingly, Mr. Session's Can You Relate is the only nod to then-contemporary bloopy tech-house on this CD, and by way of the Joris Voorn Flooding The Market With Remixes remix. Unsurprisingly, it's the least interesting cut here.

Of course, this is hardly the full Soma story, many names and tracks not included here. Fortunately, two additional DJ mixes handled by Slam and Silicone Soul come with this package, filling in those gaps to various degrees. Check in to Part Two of this review for the details!

Way Out West - Intensify

Nettwerk: 2001

Far as I'm concerned, Way Out West has always been that duo who supplied solid tunes to a solid progressive set, or could class up a cheesy trance set. But because their album output has been so sporadic (five in two decades!), the solo careers of Nick Warren and Jody Wisternoff has generated more talk than the Way Out West legacy. For sure they had a brilliant run at the start, among the top rated acts in the nascent progressive house (trance/breaks) scene. Even then, however, it was clear they didn't need each other for sustainable careers. Mr. Warren was an established DJ on the UK circuit, while Mr. Wisternoff had a respectable discography under his belt before teaming up with Nick. Still, when they hit the studio back in the '90s, it was clear they had great synergy in crafting creative, deadly dancefloor weapons.

Success does create pressure in at least considering cross-over potential though, a tempting possibility for Way Out West following the turn of the Millennium. Like, if Hybrid could throw in a few vocals to critical plaudits, why not them as well? Surely folks would buy a collaboration with Kirsty Hawkshaw here, and a voice from Tricia Lee Kalshall there. And just in case their older followers weren't keen, you can win them over by sampling a bona-fide '90s classic in Coldcut's Autumn Leaves for the lead single in The Fall. That'll get those nostalgia triggers firing!

Shocking pilfering aside, The Fall is fine for what it is, a thumping prog-house anthem with a familiar hook to sing along to. Mindcircus was rather played out back in the day, but retains some charm all these years later, and Stealth works as a mid-album trip-hop breather. Really though, we're here for those propulsive prog-house/breaks (trance) cuts the Way Out West brand was built on, and the lads behind the moniker don't disappoint in the slightest. Activity's got a killer, clanking beat with a tasteful ethnic wail, Call Me works in a pounding prog groove, Hypnotise gets more floaty and break-beaty (paging Dr. Hybrid, yo'), and Sharkhunt... damn, is this ever some tasty-as-fuck sci-fi funk! It's a travesty this cut didn't get the EP treatment.

Okay, UB Devoid is a solid choice for “Big Banger Single From New Album”. It's almost doing a psy-trance thing for its first half, indulging in brief melodic passages, samples, and weird sounds for their own sake. The second-half goes down more traditional prog-house paths, but are mint in their own right. Can you believe this track's not even five-minutes long? Who crams that much music into a five-minute dance tune?

Finishing up, Secret hints at the burgeoning James Holden influences (grumbly low-end, twinkly highs), while the two-parter titular cut sums up most of the album's highlights. Unless you just can't stand prog-trance (breaks/house) of this era, there's nothing to fault with Intensify. It may not be as ground-breaking as their '90s output, but remains a great collection of tunes to this day.

Bicep - Bicep

Ninja Tune: 2017

I wasn't hip to Bicep's brand of vintage deep house from the beginning. Like many folks, my ear caught wind of them with the 2012 single Vision Of Love. If you were down with their tough, bumpin' sound from even their Throne Of Blood days though, give yourself a gold hipster star, because following Vision Of Love, it seemed everyone was hyping these Belfast lads up. And for good cause, Bicep making house that sounded retro, but felt as firm as modern production could take it, like the fully-flexed form of Lou Ferrigno's upper arm. Music that appeals to both the olds and the new heads!

That came out a half-decade ago though, and while Misters Ferguson and McBriar kept a steady clip of singles in that time, the anticipation for a proper LP ran hot. Could they translate their sturdy dancefloor tools into a home-listening experience? Might they have other musical tricks up their sleeve yet unexplored? Could they surprise us at all?

Well, they sure surprised me when it was announced their debut album was coming out on Ninja Tune. The famed label has been branching out of their traditional downtempo scene for a while now, but I never expected them to take on a house act this purist. When was the last time they even released a record sounding like Bicep? Have they ever?

And if that didn't throw me for a loop, then hearing the actual music on Bicep's self-titled album sure did. Apparently the duo had been leaning away from sweaty Jersey clubs towards a more Balearic feel since their Just EP in 2015. I hadn't actually kept close tabs on their recent output though, so hearing such shimmering, echoing synths in opener Orca, coupled with ethnic woodwinds out of progressive house's early '90s playbook, and you'll forgive me for my double-take in this development. Hell, triple-take, considering this is coming out on Ninja Tune!

And the progressive house vibes keep getting sprinkled throughout this album. Spring and Rain both build solid, chugging rhythms, while dropping floating vocals and gated synths leads that'll have you reaching for lasers. Aura sounds more contemporary with its prog-house vibe, but maintains the charm of the retro stuff. Oh my, isn't calling progressive house 'retro' something of an oxymoron?

Elsewhere, the Balearic feels are coupled with shuffly 2-step garage rhythms (Glue, Opal, Vale... holy cow, does the vocal remind me of Snap!'s Rame), while Bicep show they fear no downtempo moments either (Ayaya, Ayr). They even work in a couple leftfield pieces, Drift an ambient work with arps providing a lead. In all, a good variety of tunes nicely spaced out makes Bicep a solid LP playback. Mind, if hearing such light, breezy synths as heard from Ibiza's glory years is a turn-off, I wouldn't blame you for bypassing Bicep. For me, I love hearing their tough, taut beatcraft paired with gurning melodies, because of course I would. Have you seen how much trance I have?

Vernon - Soundstream

promo: 1999

This CD caught my eye in the used-shop because I associated the name ‘Vernon’ with one Vernon Jerome Price, most famous for his hit Eye Q EP Vernon’s Wonderland. There’s more Vernons in the world of electronic music, but that was my first, so despite figuring this wasn’t the same Vernon, it was enough to check out on the flip regardless. And there I discovered Soundstream is a promo CD for a local DJ, which begs the question how this ended up in a used-shop. Where I paid money for it. Aren’t these supposed to be free? Whatever. Since the Vernon behind this mix is undoubtedly way under the radar of folks outside the southwest nub of British Columbia, commence the background info dump.

Vernon Douglas was a resident of one of Vancouver’s more successful underground nights, Deepen. This came at a time when the city’s nightlife was experiencing a radical shift, the main Granville Strip of clubs turning into homogenized bottle-service experiences filled with ‘bridge-and-tunnel’ douchery, earlier haunts for authentic underground house and techno forced out among the fringes of downtown. One such place was the Lotus Sound Lounge, a literal basement on the borders of the infamous Downtown Eastside. Clearly the perfect place for a proper underground venue, and Deepen found a comfortable home there in the year 1999(ish?). It nurtured such talents as overseas tech-house hero Jay Tripwire, dependable prog-house jock warm-up staple Kevin Shiu, and fabric contributor Tyler Stadius. I suppose I should also mention Deepen was my first ‘authentic’ experience at an underground club, while on a visit in Vancouver from my interior hinterland exile. Damn skippy that night at Lotus gave me incentive to move here. Heck, it was likely ol’ Vernon on the decks, but I can’t recall for sure.

Unlike his pals and associates working the decks each Saturday night though, Mr. Douglas never broke out of local fame. When Deepen came to an end some ten years ago, he moved onto a career in energy management and a quieter family life. He still dabbles with the label/podcast business (Deepen Sound), and will show up for a throwback rinse-out or anniversary love-in for those heady Deepen days, but it seems the hectic world of clubbing is in his past.

*whew* That was a mouthful. What do I have left for this promo CD, then? It’s definitely got that Deepen flavor to it, tech-house with a deep, dubby feel most associate with the opening portions of a prog DJ mix. Dot Allison’s Close Your Eyes is here, as is the Global Communications rub of Fluke’s Slid, and Hakan Lidbo’s Televinken on future Very Important Label Poker Flat Records. Vernon’s set does a decent, groovin’ build to a mid-set peak with Marino Berardi’s Numero 10, then takes the long ease-out into deep house’s territory for the remainder. Soundstream is essentially a strong sampling of what one might hear at Deepen in the year 1999, which makes sense given this is a promo disc.

Psykosonik - Unlearn

TVT Records: 1995

Imagine, if you will, The Prodigy following Experience not with Music For The Jilted Generation, but rather something akin to Underworld’s Second Toughest In The Infants. Or perhaps The Chemical Brothers’ Exit Planet Dust followed with a record sounding like Paul van Dyk’s Seven Ways. Maybe Moby’s ravey self-titled debut with an ambient album. No, wait, that one did happen.

Point is, the change in style between Psykosonik’s first record and their sophomore effort Unlearn is drastic, such that you’d never suspect you’re listening to the same ‘techno jihadists’ that emerged at the tail end of the old-school rave era. Not that one can blame them for moving on; Belgian beats were plenty dated even when these lads were doing it. Through sheer force of pluck and charm did Psykosonik succeed, fusing their techno with EBM snarl and future-shock topics (Silicon Jesus, Shock On The Wire, etc.), elements they could carry forward if they were bold enough. For whatever reason though, the group said nuts to that, and turned their ears towards the realms of progressive house and ethnic-fusion downtempo, of all things. Funnily enough, when Unlearn dropped, even those genres were showing signs of creaky strain in their original incarnations. Yet once again, Psykosonik overcome such stylistic limitations for a second LP that could have been an early ‘electronica’ hit had TVT Records put more marketing muscle behind it. On the other hand, Unlearn is such a departure from what the label was promoting (mostly NIN), I’m not surprised they let it slip by.

The starkest difference between Psykosonik and Unlearn is how much the group has improved in their songcraft while finding influence from a multitude of sources. The titular cut comes off like a long-lost New Order tune, Ride works a thick trip-hop beat while indulging in darkwave tones and harmonica solos (!), Dreaming Real could work as a latter-era big-beat contribution to an action movie (of course), and I can’t see Sasha or Diggers having much problem working Alone or Object Disorient into one of their mid-‘90s sets. And for a group that just a few short years prior were getting all rowdy in the acid business, there’s some remarkably chill tunes littered throughout this album. Eye Of The Mind brings ethnic chants and acid together into tasty darkwave treat, Chromagnum sounds like Deep Forest with teeth, plus a few scattered ambient interludes link everything together into a continuous, long-player whole. And did I mention all the singing? How is it that I like all this singing? Well, lots of progressive house acts were doing it, so it’s fine if Psykosonik gets their warble on too.

Unlearn could have been one of those Very Important Albums of the ‘90s, but being stuck on a label more known for industrial didn’t do the group many favors. Even worse, TVT rejected their third album, jading Psykosonik so hard they disbanded, prematurely ending one of the more intriguing acts that decade ever produced. Such a pity.

Various - United DJs Of America Volume 17: Scott Hardkiss (Original TC Review)

DMC: 2001

(2017 Update:
One of the very, very, very few perfect scores I gave out while writing for TranceCritic, and I still stand by it. Admittedly, what Scott Hardkiss does here probably isn't as impressive these days what with digital DJing making eclectic sets like these much easier to produce. Heck, such CDs were quite marketable and profitable for a short while a number of years back, kitchen-sink sets earning all the critical plaudits. Just makes Scott's effort here all the more remarkable having done it on vinyl, practically in spite of scene hype focusing its attention elsewhere.

Sadly, Scott passed away some four years ago now. Before then, he'd finally released a full-length album in 2009 called Technicolor Dreamer, all the while continuing to put out singles and working the DJ circuit until the end. Truly one of San Francisco's legends, taken far too soon.)

IN BRIEF: More house than a suburban district.

United DJs Of America: remember this series? If not, don’t feel too bad - it’s understandable. Despite having a number of highly respected names tied to it (Bones, Bambaataa, Knuckles, Vega, Farina, Craze… loads more), DMC had difficulty maintaining a consistent distributor, flopping around on several during its eight year run. In the end, it folded when the American dance industry entered a mild recession in the year of ‘03.

Shame, then, that San Francisco based DJ/producer Scott Hardkiss should be offered a go at this series so late in its run. Most likely know Hardkiss as that guy behind God Within and White Dove, but he was mixing up acid, breaks, and house on the West Coast scene for longer than that. As something of a recluse from the spotlight, he never quite broke out the way many of his peers did. And when finally given the opportunity to do so, his contribution to the United DJs legacy went largely unnoticed. And that, my friends, is an even bigger shame, as Hardkiss put together possibly one of the finest mixes the series ever saw.

For all its resilience and ace talent, the quality of United DJs often varied. It wasn’t uncommon for a classic release to be followed with an achingly average one, often due to the limitations DJs put themselves in by sticking to their chosen styles. Hardkiss, though, is a wildly eclectic DJ, and wouldn’t be satisfied with settling for a few forms of house. So, he went and made a mix with all of them!

Well, not all of them. Deep house is absent because this isn’t the kind of set for it. Electro house is obviously uninvited to this party either, since this release comes before that sound had really emerged. And of course euro-house is just too poppy. But yeah ...everything else - prog, acid, disco, tech; it’s all here.

So if this is such a varied mix, why did it go unnoticed? First impressions can go a long way, and in this case the opening tracks may have turned many away. Hardkiss starts with prog, and in 2001 this stuff was everywhere, with many sets sounding no different from the next. You’d be forgiven for dismissing this as Just Another Prog Mix based on the beginning.

But unlike many prog sets that drag with tension builders and transition tracks due to the room of two discs, Hardkiss knows he has far less time to get everything he wants in the seventy-four minutes a single CD offers. With no wasted meanderings, he mixes into his trademark funky acid house with Electric Skychurch’s Liberty and peaks the trip with a kaleidoscope of bubbly psychedelia in is rub of Tom Chasteen’s Freedom. And soon after that, we’re off into a festive atmosphere with The Heartists’ Bolo Horizonti, where Hardkiss gives a nod to New York as well with David Morales’ remix of the same track right afterwards.

You’d think these quick transitions between such different types of house (we’ve gone through at least four by the mid-way mark) would clash with abrupt mixes, yet Hardkiss keeps things flowing just fine, each track complementing the next without sounding forced. By contrast, a number of DJ mixes that attempt house sets of this nature sound like an MP3 player put on Random. Either it’s a testament to his skill as a DJ, or most other DJs have just grown lazy over the years by sticking with only a couple styles.

The house music continues jumping all over the place as the set carries on: funk is brought in courtesy of C-Mos’ 6-2 Young; having earned our trust with his track selection thus far, Hardkiss gets away with the goofy fun of Plastika and Conga Squad’s Disco Rockin’; energetic tech injects a dose of adrenaline with Jark Prongo’s Rocket Bass (and yes, that is Push It sampled there); good-natured hip-house from Armand van Helden and Common take us out with class; and sprinklings of San Francisco’s disco funk fill in the gaps.

Critiques then. Surely there has to be something that doesn’t hold up on this half-a-decade old set. Honestly, there’s very little worth criticizing here: track arrangement is superb and the mixing is mostly unobtrusive. A couple technical issues pop up but hardly hinder; in fact, it adds to the charm of this set, giving it a rawer live feeling and thus making Hardkiss’ few DJ tricks all the more engaging. And even if you don’t fancy house music, you’ll nonetheless enjoy the positive San Fran vibes that ooze from these tracks.

Steady readers of this website probably realize these five-star ratings are rare, but Hardkiss’ foray has everything we look for in a release that earns it: diversity, creativity, and - most importantly - enjoyable engagement from start to finish. Don’t miss out on this overlooked gem.

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

Various - Unfold #2: Christopher Lawrence

Moist Music: 2008

It's taken forever to finally get Christopher Lawrence into this blog’s archives! Whatever is the matter with me? Don’t I have any of his CDs in my collection? Sadly not, this one technically an abandoned TranceCritic promo that I neglected to review for reasons that utterly escape me now. As for never having picked up a C.L. mix or album, I have no excuse for it other than inexplicable apathy. I’ve seen his name for almost as long as I’ve been buying trance CDs, the chap a fixture on Moonshine after the turn of the century. Though I didn’t buy them, I generally liked what I heard, a tougher take on trance at a time when most jocks were getting fluffier and banal (or abandoning the genre altogether). When that label folded, he soon set up his own Pharmacy Music print, which he continues to run and promote podcasts through to this day. Along the way, he joined John ‘00’ Fleming in championing psy trance as the new hotness for proper trance t’ings, so aces in that development.

It’s during this period we find ourselves with Unfold #2, a short-lived series from Dutch label Fektive Records, and given an American release by Moist Music. Interesting note about Moist, a number of Moonshine refugees found new homes there, though it’s merely a roundabout coincidence that Lawrence finally ended up there too. Unfold itself was designed to highlight some of trance’s most notable old-school DJs still kickin’ out an underground sound, the first volume of which featuring Fleming (of course). A third edition had Marco V - an odd choice for the late ‘00s as he’d moved on from trance by that point - and that was all she wrote for Unfold (so sayeth The Discogs).

As for ol’ Chris’s go here, yeah, it’s a full-on psy set. Perhaps another reason I wasn’t quick in doing a review of this was my interest in the sub-genre had dwindled when this came out. I’m pretty sure I did like it somewhat, just not enough to inspire fingers to keyboard. Weird, because this stuff is pretty good all things considered. I only recognize a few names here (Mad Hatters, Cosmonet… Spacecat?), and I think I’ve heard some of these elsewhere (Basic’s Toyster and Audio-X’s And We Survive have very familiar, punchy hooks). For the most part though, it’s a classy, energetic collection of tunes for this style, with little of the random wibble the Israeli scene churned out. A few early tracks – Brain Damage’s Waiting For My Angel, Mad Contrabender’s Illegal Hardware and Killer from Gaudium Vs Dualsnug (god, these names) – even get my vintage senses tingling. Unfold #2 isn’t the best starting point for Christopher Lawrence, but it’s serviceable if you fancy the psy of the era.

Eh? CD1 of this two-discer? Oh, it’s just C.L. fitting in with the electro-progressive-plod-house of the time (hey, Mark Norman!). The opening track from Spooky (New Light (Strobelight Mix)) is nice, but the rest… yyy-eeah.

The Orb - U.F.Orb

Island Records/Inter-Modo: 1992/2005

It’d difficult denying U.F.Orb as the group’s best work, though I can understand how others might enjoy their other albums more. After the genre-defining excess that was Ultraworld though, The Orb were quick in adjusting and refining just what they had on tap with their music. Cut out all that excessive ambient dithering (save it for the live shows, plus no one got the ironic ‘prog-rock’ joke of it all anyway), focus in on more groovy earworms that rave punters and chilled stoners could vibe on equally, and make each collaboration play to those particular players’ strengths rather than having them around just because you could. The result is six near-perfect tracks within the Orb canon, custom made for the ’92 crowds, and enduring to this day. Plus Sticky End.

Right, high claims signaling out U.F.Orb as most essential and all that, especially as it lacks those truly iconic Orb tunes everyone knows. The closest two we get are Blue Room and Towers Of Dub, each the fifteen-minute breaking behemoth highlights of the album, and the sort of cuts that turned Ultraworld into the double-disc effort it was. Hilariously, the original mix of Blue Room clocked in at a shade under forty minutes in length, a cheeky attack of sorts on the UK charts in pushing the limits of what constituted a single in that nation’s music scene. Hey, I wouldn’t mind hearing that on the radio – any chance to hear more of Jah Wobble’s bass work and Steve Hillage’s space guitar effects is ace in my ears. Nor did the British folk either, Blue Room peaking out at number eight, The Orb’s second highest single ever (only Toxygene’s done better, deliberately so).

Towers Of Dub is the other one, what with its charming bell melody, funky harmonica tootin’ from Marney Pax, and, um, towering layers of dub effects throughout (and can’t forget ‘that bassline’!). I suppose opener O.O.B.E. is a minor memorable tune off here, if anything for its inclusion on Live 93. It’s such an ultra-mellow piece of music though, about as ambient as anything The Orb produced in this era, and frustratingly quiet at times too. For some reason, the only part that ever sticks in my head is the sampled game of billiards.

What of the remaining three, then? How do they fit in the grand Orb lexicon? The titular cut, a modest six minute piece that may as well be proto prog-house, goes about its business as a decent enough transitional cut between O.O.B.E. and Blue Room. Close Encounters goes longer, grooving along on a similar sample-heavy house vibe. Finally Majestic, the obligatory Youth collaboration, keeps the proggy tone going, with a hook in its final minutes that’s as ear-vermis as anything else on U.F.Orb. How this one never turned out a single, I haven’t a clue. I suppose outside of Little Fluffy Clouds, most didn’t give The Orb’s early conventional dance tracks as much notice. They were defining other shit, mang!

William Orbit - Strange Cargo III

I.R.S. Records: 1993

The only William Orbit album you’re supposed to have, despite most folks buying up Pieces In A Modern Style as their One True Orbit album instead. Without the success of Strange Cargo III, however, there may not have even been a Pieces In A Modern Style! Okay, that’s stretching things. Ol’ Will already had a decent reputation in clubland as a remixer throughout the early ‘90s, providing rubs for an eclectic assortment of artists (Prince, Nitzer Ebb, Erasure, Kraftwerk, Betty Boo, Peter Gabriel, Sven Väth, The Cure, The Shamen, The Human League, The Madonna). He was also actively making music under various guises since the early ‘80s – synth-pop in the group Torch Song, ravey UK house with Bassomatic. William ‘Orbit’, though, was Mr. Wainwright’s main creative outlet, where he artistically indulged himself with ambient, pop, funk, and whatever genre fusion struck his fancy at the time – hoo, is the first Strange Cargo ever dripping with ‘80s fusion.

Thus Orbit was no stranger to DJs the world over, and the UK. If anything, they were quite receptive to whatever music he produced, though perhaps with a cautious ear, Orbit so often toeing the line between savvy club weapons and blatant crossover material. Whatever misgivings DJs might have had with Mr. Wainwrights’ earlier material, however, was quickly assuaged when Water From A Vine Leaf dropped as Strange Cargo III’s lead single, practically a re-introduction of Orbit to a whole new generation of ravers and punters unfamiliar with his ‘80s output.

An instant classic in Balearic and progressive house circles (remixes from Spooky and Underworld helped), playlisted by all the Very Important DJs, and even picked up by the mighty Virgin for distribution, it would be one of Orbit’s most successful singles ever released under his own moniker. Oh, and it also introduced clubland to Beth Orton, her vivid dialog about four young girls giving her water from a vine leaf (just dropping it onto her tongue) almost single-handily making her an in-demand vocalist for producers (Chemical Brothers sure noticed).

It’s tough topping such a single, so Orbit doesn’t even try, instead spending the rest of Strange Cargo III genre hopping and blending styles of the time as he typically did with this series. A few more progressive tunes show up (Into The Paradise, The Story Of Light, A Touch Of The Night, Gringatcho Demento complete with a squalling guitar solo), proto trip-hop naturally gets a look (Time To Get Wize; Best Friend, Paranoia), hints of his future dalliance with modern classical make appearances (Harry Flowers, Water Babies), and ethnic-fusion chill-out drops in for a bit (A Hazy Shade Of Random, The Monkey King, Deus Ex Machina). Phew, is that ever an earful.

By no means is Strange Cargo III a perfect album. It does drag with Orbit’s indulgences in the back-half, and a few tracks have dated some. Still, it’s far more interesting than much of his work following Ray Of Light, totally deserving the praise it earned way back when.