The Clash - London Calling

Epic: 1979/1999

The only Clash album you’re supposed to have, even if you’re not a fan of The Clash. Am I ever saying that a lot lately, eh? Sure is good thing I’m filling in all these essential blanks in my music collection, lest folks think mine’s not worthy for consideration. Pft, my four-digit numbers is plenty ‘nuff for wide-eye glances, especially following the common question of “Is it all ‘techno’?” Why no, it actually isn’t! Like, there’s some orchestral soundtracks floating about, plus a jazz box-set somewhere in there too. And ooh, look at that shelf dedicated to rock music. Ain’t much ‘techno’ about that stuff, amirite? But yes, I know there are tons of essential classics in the rock pantheon that I’m supposed to have, despite the genre far from my highest digging priority. Why should I need too though, when I have friends consistently offloading their old CDs these days?

As for London Calling, yeah, this is one of the big ones, a game changer in the world of punk rock. The Clash were already critical darlings of the UK scene, but they had quite a bit of competition too, the market quickly flooded with copycats and would-be rebellious ‘yoof’ starting up their own rickety band railing against the powers that be. Hell, even seasoned musicians were getting in on that action, punk soon showcasing a remarkable swath of skill. From the deliberately sloppy Sex Pistols to the crafty song writing of The Police, there was seemingly almost no limit to what you could with the genre. No wonder ‘post-punk’ quickly morphed from this influx of creativity.

The Clash fit comfortably smack in the middle of it all, capably kicking out punk’s lineage of throwback rockabilly and hard rock while pushing the boundaries of genre fusion with ska, reggae, and R&B. They had no problem performing stupid simple tunes like Brand New Cadillac, but were fearless in getting politically charged and topical, showing a sense of maturity in their music mostly devoid in the ramshackle reactionary tropes of most punk. And boy, talk of hubris, showing no fear in delivering the world’s first double-LP punk album. Because ain’t no way they’re leaving those Jamaican nods Rudie Can’t Fail and the Guns Of Brixton out.

Considering punk was a reaction against the double-LP concept prog rock adored, that The Clash went this route for their third album is deliciously cheeky. The fact there’s not a duff cut for the duration of London Calling is amazing, nary a track coming off as pointless or over-indulgent filler. Also consider but two singles were released from these nineteen songs, the titular tune and closer Train In Vain (the second most famous Clash song), the sort of situation that dooms most albums from replay value. Yet I dare you to skip anything from London Calling, just to get to that final track. Doubt you do it, not with so many choice tunes in between. Top ten all time rock albums? Yeah, I buy that.

Sublime - 40oz. To Freedom

Skunk Records/Gasoline Alley Records: 1992/1996

Practically the sole reason we get to hear Smash Mouth covers in kid’s movies now, these guys. Maybe the So-Cal ska scene would have pounded the late ‘90s pop charts regardless, bands like No Doubt and Sugar Ray inevitable. When folks namedrop their (admittedly small) lists of Very Important American Ska Bands though, Sublime is almost always at the top, regional legends that inspired many groups to fuse their own offerings of punk and reggae without a care in the world. By the time wider North America was ready to fully hop on the Sublime paddy-van though, lead singer and guitarist Brad Nowell had sadly succumbed to his struggles with heroin, effectively putting an end to the group. Right as they broke through the mainstream with the single What I Got. Right as the ska scene was set to capitalize as it never had before or since. That takes some serious heart and personal ethics for members Bud Gaugh and Eric Wilson, disbanding the band in respect for their fallen comrade. Besides, they could still make bank on their small back-catalog anyway.

Even though ska was barely an afterthought of popularity in the early ‘90s, it’s easy to hear why Sublime caught on the way they did. The band could effortlessly switch between reggae offshoots and thrash punk, sometimes even within the same song. Throw in nods to hip-hop along the way, and you’ve a sound that’s never pigeon-holed into any specific scene, yet remains appealing to fans of either genre. Sealing it though, was Sublime’s heavy emphasis on detailing all the carefree, irresponsible down-in-the-dumps aspects of lower-class life in Southern California. Wiling the days away getting stoned, getting drunk, hooking up and miserably breaking up, wandering from house party to trailer party to skate park party to gig party, yet all with a sunny disposition as only ska music can provide. These guys may be on the skids, but damn if they don’t sound like it’s a fun time being there. Hell, this debut album of theirs was practically all recorded by breaking into a studio in its off hours, only adding to the reckless living allure many a skater, pothead, and general teenager of the ‘90s gave ‘em.

As a debut, 40oz. To Freedom is an incredibly strong album, giving us a taste of the Sublime stylee in spades. Ska! Reggae! Punk! Hip-Hop! Blues? Koom-baya sing-along’s? Whatever, this was the soundtrack to many a house party across the Western seaboard, steadily gaining popularity as everyone who came within earshot had to get a copy for themselves (and their own house parties), seeing several re-issues along the way. Once MCA picked the band up for wider distribution, a few tracks and samples were removed due to copyright claims, and it became a point of pride if you could boast having an original ’92 version in your hands. Being down with Sublime before anyone knew of them and all. I, ah, don’t have such a copy. I t’was no skater.

Lee 'Scratch' Perry - Technomajikal

ROIR (Reachout International Records): 1997

Lee 'Scratch' Perry and one of the guys from Yello? Sure, why not. Stranger collaborations have gone down in electronic music. Collaborations such as... um... well, certainly none along the way of The Orb or Pete Namlook so often indulged in. Those pairings made some sense, musicians with common synergy feeding off each other’s vibes. This is true for many scenes in electronic music, and though cross-pollination doesn't happen often, it hasn't stopped an occasional producer’s flight of fancy in trying something with someone outside their comfort zone. Guest rappers from the world of hip-hop don't count since that’s mercenary work unintended for a full LP's worth of material. This just might be the oddest pairing in electronic music I’ve ever seen then – most definitely within my own collection of CDs anyway.

Quick rundown of the players involved. Lee ‘Scratch’ Perry (aka: The Upsetter; aka: The Prophet; aka: Super Ape; aka: Pipecock Jakxon; aka: Toots; aka:...) is a Jamaican legend, often credited with being among the earliest pioneers of reggae dub. He’s produced countless records, famously burned down his own studio in a fit of paranoia, then moved to Europe for an extended bout of ‘quiet time’. Though nearing his 80th birthday, he continues to make music and tour in some limited capacity. In the other corner we have Dieter Meier, vocalist of synth-pop fusion weirdos Yello fame, carving out an incredibly unique sound of blended traditional Latin influences into a future-leaning world. Though often name-dropped as inspiration by many contemporary producers, their approaches to music was wildly different; not to mention their lifestyles. Perry was a Jamaican immigrant eccentric, whereas Meier was a millionaire industrialist making music as a lark. Nope, nothing in common at all.

Except for the fact they both were living in Switzerland. Ol’ Dieter, a fan of the Super Ape, got in touch with ol’ Lee, and convinced him into some sessions in his studio. I’ve no idea if the two had any idea of what they’d make, and legend purport Perry was barely committed to the project at all. Mr. ‘Scratch’ apparently went so far as to record his vocals outdoors, though given his famously eccentric behaviours, that part isn’t so surprising.

Unfortunately, the resulting album of Technomajikal plays to neither of each musician’s strengths. Perry goes on about psychedelia, representing music, and being “x-perry-mental” with rudimentary lyricism that, for the longest time, I thought were samples from other works. Much of the music crafted are proto-goa trance rhythms and sounds, and though more dynamic than such beats typically go, it’s still not much better than the filler on any number of budget compilations.

With half the CD taken up with pointless remixes and alternate versions, Technomajikal ultimately comes off like a project that was only half-realized before pushed out so it wasn’t a total loss. The only track that reaches the ‘Lee Meets Dieter’ promise is final cut Crazy House, with all sorts of off-kilter ‘Scratch’ ad-libs and quirky Yello percussion. A shame.

Dub Pistols - Speakers And Tweeters

Sunday Best Recordings: 2007

Dub Pistols were a name I recall always seeing around at the turn of the millennium, but seldom heard much of. Yeah, there was that remix for Banco de Gaia's I Love Baby Cheesy, and I'm fairly certain I aired out their rubs for Freestylers and The Crystal Method. Glancing at their other remix credits on Lord Discogs though, and lo there are a ton more for the likes of Korn, Limp Bizkit, Filter, and Rob Zombie. Wait, didn't these guys do big beat and dub back in the day? Why were they palling around with nu-metal noggers? Deep sixing their career for a while it seems, nearly a half-decade gap of material from Dub Pistols between those early days to where we find them with Speakers And Tweeters.

Or maybe they were busy figuring things out (and a stable label) for themselves. Their debut Point Blank may have rode the Fatboy Slim train to some minor success, but their year 2000 follow-up Six Million Ways To Die found more favour with its reggae roots and dub stylings. If Dub Pistols wanted a successful relaunch of their career in the mid-‘00s, the wise course of action was keeping to those strengths.

Why, then, does this album sound so watered down and tepid? Instead of beats with some grit and vibes for the rude bwoy heads, we get sunny reggae and ample amounts of ska. Hell, the lead single for this was a cover of Blondie’s Rapture, and a rather tame go at that. I’m getting serious déjà-vu with other tunes too (Gave You Time’s a dead ringer for a Moby song, and I’m almost certain Cruise Control is style-biting a long-forgotten ‘80s electro record). Some tracks work out well for the ‘fun times in summertime’ vibe, Running From The Thoughts and Open having a decent bounce going for them. So much of Speakers And Tweeters comes off like reggae for beginners though, a palatable starter’s dish for those who are looking to move beyond Bob Marley’s Legend.

It’s like Dub Pistols realized this music did big business for a brief while in the late ‘90s, so maybe a market remains. For sure I could throw this on at a BBQ and folks would amicably nod their head while it plays out. Compared to their other releases though, Speakers And Tweeters is a letdown. Such a shame, because there are glimmers of what these guys can bring (spaced-out opening cut Speed Of Light, proper dub reggae Stronger). Were they aiming for more commercial appeal? If so, it paid off, with three albums released since this one, including The Return Of The Pistoleros just this year. And taking a quick gander at those, the ol’ Dub Pistols charm is intact, tunes finding ways of keeping with the times (dubstep! ragga jungle!) while sticking to the roots and dub that worked so well for them way back when. Check out those albums instead if you need an introduction to this group.

Liquid Stranger - The Intergalactic Slapstick

Interchill Records: 2009

Yeah, I went on a recent Interchill Records splurge too. And why not? The label’s just across a strait of ocean water, practically next door in Canada terms. I’ve never been let down in my dabbling with their output, so why not check out a few artists further. Say, look at all those Liquid Stranger albums. Mr. Stääf’s found himself a home with Interchill, which explains his huge popularity on the festival circuit around my slice of the planet. I’m almost certain I’ve heard him at Shambhala, and anyone that gets a tune on an Ultimae CD must have a sound I’ll find appealing. On the other hand, Liquid Stranger does have an album out on Rottun, they who be responsible for the popularity of bro-friendly, raging hosebeast dubstep. While I can’t possibly see Interchill ever promoting the stuff, I don’t doubt some of it wormed itself into Liquid Stranger’s palette.

As for Mr. Stääf, he made an immediate impact on the dubby chill side of downtempo with his debut The Invisible Conquest, offering up trippy reggae dub without falling into the psy side of things. Flash forward two years and we have The Intergalactic Slapstick, featuring cover art that looks like it was intended for a quirky Israeli psy trance compilation. Make no mistake though, Liquid Stranger’s having none of that scene, staying the course with his dub influences while adding in a few new sounds that had developed in the time since The Invisible Conquest. That’s right, he’s gone Burial!

No, of course not, but he did adopt the style of another ‘dubstep’ producer who gained a ton of critical acclaim during those years, namely The Bug with London Zoo. There be grimey dancehall on here (Rough Road, Full Metal Jacket, Tantrum), including Madame Warrior Queen herself for a guest feature on Mutants. While not quite at Kevin Martin’s level of crushing bass attacks, Liquid Stranger handles himself within the genre most excellently. What’s funny is The Intergalactic Slapstick didn’t even start out that way, the first few tracks sounding like carry overs from his first LP. He bridges the two styles of Jamaican dub rather wonderfully though with Soundboy Killa, bringing in the dancehall toasting while keeping things on the laid-back, cavernous bouncy vibe the best reggae dub goes.

And yes, there’s that other development in dubstep present here too: the gratuitous mid-range wobble. Not much of it, thankfully, but gads that sound never ceases to grate. Most annoying is in Dub Missle, with so much pointless meandering mid-range that- wait, suddenly it changes to spacey pads and reggae echoing off the cosmic plane. Dub Missle is awes- ah, shit, there’s that stupid wobble again. Argh!

Liquid Stranger ends The Slaptastic Interspacer rather oddly. Bodily Needs features quirky dialog detailing the neccesity for health and sex over a tune that’d have The Orb giggling, Lotus goes full world-beat boppity-boo, and closer Dew Point sounds like… Kitaro? Huh, never underestimate one’s influences. Still, solid album all around.

Fugees - The Score

Columbia: 1996

Fugees’ The Score annoyed me to no end when it first came out. It was inescapable, everyone hyping the ever-loving Hell out of it, songs on hourly rotation blasting from radio airwaves and music video transmissions. Not to mention the nonstop requests at whatever teen dance, Christmas party, or wedding I was attending, when all I wanted to hear out was a little Dance Mix 96 instead. Okay, so I only heard Killing Me Softly, because it was among the most omnipresent singles of that year. That was enough to convince me The Score wasn’t worth my time though, as teenage ignorance is wont to do.

Slowly but surely I came around to the Fugees' multi-platinum selling sophomore effort (thanks, jungle remixes!). Killing Me Softly is what it is, a fine cover of a classic soul song that gave Lauryn Hill the spotlight on the album, Wyclef and Pras politely stepping aside for her moment to shine (save some hype man calls). What finally made me a fan, however, was the way she could command a hook so effortlessly.

Ready Or Not is the obvious one, but the strangely forgotten Fu-Gee-La is another winner, her rendition of the Teena Marie original worming its way inside your brain matter for long-term residence. Seriously, I listened to The Score about a week ago, and her Fu-Gee-La chorus is still randomly spinning in my head! It doesn’t hurt it’s got such a wicked bottom end, deep in the dub with a swaggering dancehall bounce. Why doesn’t anyone bring this song up anymore? It was the lead single, including a prominent sticker on the front proudly proclaiming it as the reason to buy The Score. It had two extra remixes added as bonus tracks, including one from dub reggae legends Sly & Robbie! Yet to this day, nadda and zilch is mentioned of it. Hell, I don’t even recall anyone talking up the track even when the album was new – even the goofy kung-fu Chinese restaurant skit prior to it got more play than Fu-Gee-La. Revive this song, yo’!

While the rest of The Score if often bypassed from the big tunes, that’d be a disservice to your ears. Yes, the Fugees were only ever modest MCs, but they rose to fame when gangsta tropes and New York City mafioso raps were the big hotness on the East Coast. In feeding off their influences of reggae, dancehall, soul, and the conscious end of hip-hop, they stood apart from all their contemporaries, offering an easy-going vibe for an increasingly aggressive scene. They could throw down when it came to battle skills (How Many Mics, The Score), though their focus was aimed more at inner-city strife, especially back in Wyclef’s native Haiti.

Speaking of Wyclef, just how brilliantly daft is some of his production here? Sampling Enya – freaking Enya! – for a hip-hop track and making it work is amazing in of itself. Still, I always knew Boadicea was a dope cut, if given right context.

Sandoz - Chant To Jah

Touch/Soul Jazz Records: 1998/2002

Swell, not even a week deep into my collection of ‘S’ albums, and I’ve already hit two mislabels. Technically, Sandoz In Dub is a subtitle, specifically for a series of LPs Richard H. Kirk released in the latter years of this alias, but leave it to Media Player to get that backwards. Not even sure how the next album in my alphabetical order got so messed up, but let’s ignore the near future for now, going back to the past with another anecdote of my buying habits.

No, I’m kidding; though I should mention that Chant To Jah was the first Sandoz CD I bought. Somehow even finding one on store shelves feels like a fluke, except as with Digital Lifeforms: Redux, this was a re-issue, in this case by Soul Jazz Records – it’s kinda’ their thing. Why they went with this particular Sandoz album though, I haven’t a clue. Chant To Jah only had a few years behind it, and while undoubtedly hard to find, no more so than any other early Sandoz album. Maybe the relative ‘newness’ of the album made it an easier sell, or Kirk grew tired of Touch’s ‘scarcity is art’ marketing; or Soul Jazz head Stuart Baker adored Chant To Jah above all other Sandoz LPs. What strange machinations these record labels concoct in the odd hours of our times.

I was also initially put off by this album because I had no clue what I was in for. The only prior track I’d heard under the Sandoz banner was the ambient dub outing Beam, so I naturally thought this would be more of the same. Clearly not, as Chant To Jah goes full-in with its reggae roots and African vibes. On the surface, it sounded fine, but nothing terribly different than so much other musicians of similar ilk. Compounding my lackadaisical impression of this album was Digital Lifeforms itself when I finally got to hear that one. The sublime tribal techno and dub fusion going on in the Sandoz debut was unlike anything I’d heard before, and remains a remarkable unique entry in that ultra-micro niche avenue of electronic music. I constantly returned to Digital Lifeforms to pick out new little nuances to Mr. Kirk’s craft, whereas Chant To Jah would only get an occasional token playthrough.

Funny enough, it was those repeated plays of the former that finally led me to appreciating the latter. The combination of Jamaican and North African music already offers intriguing interplay of their distinct attributes, of which ol’ Rich does remarkably well for an industrial keyboardist. It’s the techniques learned from that wholly unrelated scene, however, that lends the music here a grit you won’t find much elsewhere. Snares clank, vocal chants distort, and dub reverb echoes off concrete halls. Yet despite the harsh textures, the soulful vibe of Afro-dub remains intact. That’s some serious musical skill pulled off, drawing you in to hear those same nuances that marked Digital Lifeforms. Took me damned long enough to get it, though.

Sacred System - Chapter One: Book Of Entrance (2015 Update)

Reachout International Records: 1996

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review)

Ah, nuts. There was some very crucial information that needed updating from my original TranceCritic review of this album. I've already wasted it in the review of Dub Chamber 3 though. I could have burned some word count with it, because regarding the music itself, there's not much else I can add to Book Of Entrance. Eh, what the heck, I'll just copy and paste it here. It's not like anyone remembers a Bill Laswell review from twenty-nine months ago. Woo, self-plagorization!

Dub Chamber 3 is one of his solo efforts though; or rather, him and whoever he invites over for a jam. Don’t bother looking for a Dub Chamber 1 or 2, as they don’t exist. This was, however, his third album released on Reachout International Records, the two prior being his Sacred System material. To confound discographers further, his fourth ROIR album was once again as Sacred System, but also titled Dub Chamber 4 (subtitled Book Of Exit, a nice call-back to the first album). And, that’s not even the end of his ROIR output, where he released a compilation of Sacred Dub System Chamber material, plus a collaboration project with Roots Tonic, not to mention- help! I’m being swallowed by Laswell’s discography! It’s so massive, it has a gravitational pull of its own!

*whew* Good thing I escaped it a second time!

But yes, I incorrectly titled this album way back when, in part because I figured Bill Laswell’s name was more important for referencing than the alias he used for Reachout. Also, everyone just calls Book Of Entrance a Laswell album because that’s what it is, but as Lord Discogs lists this as a Sacred System album, here it is correctly titled thus.

One other thing I feel needs clarifying from that old piece of writing is my claim that ‘bass-driven’ music isn’t terribly popular. Why, 2005 Sykonee must be an imbecile if he believes that. Just look at all the forms of bass music that dominates electronic music. Hell, even rhythmic reggae dub, from which Laswell is drawing influence from on Book Of Entrance, has a dedicated following of rastas and spliff heads. All true, but very seldom are those instances where bass leads through improvisation with everything else complementing. Even modern bass-heavy genres like trap and dubstep are about the effects those low frequencies have on your mind and body rather than guiding you through a musical journey. I doubt many festival goers would have time for the lengthy sessions Laswell indulges in. Hell, I sometimes don’t, and I actually like most of Bill’s material.

Finally, Book Of Entrance kicks off the huge block of music within my collection known as “Albums Beginning With ‘S’” – with a mislabel, of all things, heh. There are a few other mislabels, but even dismissing those, this could take me through the summer. And my reward for its completion? Taking on the equally massive section called “Albums Beginning With ‘T’”. The obsession must be satisfied!

The Police - Reggatta de Blanc

A&M Records: 1979

With Reggatta de Blanc, The Police went from catchy punk oddities to catchy ‘cod reggae’ oddities, and scored the big number one on the UK charts in doing so. Man, why do so many ‘reggae by white rock groups’ always hit the charts like that? I can see it happening the late ‘70s, when reggae was growing in popularity, but that trend continues to this day. Why don’t folks vibe on the authentic stuff more? It’s not like understanding the lyrics is crucial or anything – I sure can’t understand what them Jamaicans are going on about most of the time. At least The Police had the sense approaching the genre with both respect and tongue planted firmly in cheek, fully admitting in the title of the album that, yes, you’re in for some ‘white reggae’ (and a little post-punk).

This is The Police album no one’s embarrassed having in their collection. Like, Outlandos might be a bit too punky, Zenyatta a bit too simple, Ghost a bit too weird, and Synchronicity a bit too ‘80s, but Reggatta? Everyone loves that one, even if they only remember a few songs off of it. Message In A Bottle is the big one though, scoring the band their first number one single in the UK, plus Top 10 in several others (not in America though – guess they’d yet to catch onto reggae-rock). It’s hard denying the song craft involved in this one, an instantly memorable guitar hook complemented by some of Copeland’s best drumming and one of Sting’s all-time greatest pieces of lyricism. You can take the tale literally, of an unlucky chap lost at sea, or metaphorically, a sad soul alone in the world, each equally vivid in its narration. I’m not just blowing smoke up The Police’s asses either, each member often claiming Message In A Bottle one of their finest moments as a band.

That tight musicianship is prevalent throughout Reggatta de Blanc, even with a rather slap-dash approach to writing. Story goes they didn’t have much idea of an album going in, running with whatever material they could come up with on the fly. Fortunately, they hang off so many winning hooks and lyrics throughout, their musical indulgences are allowed. Give us all that weightless reverb in Walking On The Moon! Mr. Summers, you go right ahead with those rhythmic reverb diddly-dos on your guitar in The Bed’s Too Big Without You! Mr. Copeland, all those wonderful drum fills in Deathwish, don’t you stop! And boys, with the titular cut, what a build!

Mind you, this isn’t a perfect album by any means. The punk holdovers like It’s Alright For You and No Time This Time aren’t as good as the Outlandos material, and Copeland’s novelty tunes (hilariously cynical On Any Other Day, bass-fuzz Contact, and piano ditty Does Everyone Stare) are strictly fans-only. With such a timeless cut like Message In A Bottle on hand though, it’s hard not becoming a fan of The Police thereafter.

Bandulu - Redemption

Music Man Records: 2002

Bandulu appeared to have gone quietly into the '90s night, their brand of tribal dub techno growing less relevant as bangin' Swedish sounds and German minimalism became the norm in the new millennium. No one would have thought less of them had Cornerstone and smatterings of vinyl singles been the final impression on their lasting legacy. They'd made an undeniable mark on techno and though their LP career didn't last a decade, it's more than can be said for most producers of that scene.

Then, out of the Bandulu blue, along comes a Redemption, a fresh album for the 2000s after nearly a half-decade of relative silence. Not only was it proper full-length release, but in fact came in two variations, depending on which format you preferred. It’s not unheard of bonus tracks appearing on CD copies or vinyl exclusives rewarding the black crack addicts, but to have a mere two cuts shared between them is nigh unheard of. Why give both versions the same album name if they lack much similarity between either? Would we have even more different track lists had Redemption come out at a different era? I could see that happening with a digital format (all the space!), but I kinda’ get a chuckle out of the concept of a ‘tape-only’ version too. It’d fit the group’s ‘techno for the graffiti-filled North London streets’ manifesto.

One of the tracks on both record and CD is Jahquarius, and oh my God, when I heard this as the opener, I feared the worst. That is, I didn’t quite know what to expect going into Redemption - whether Bandulu’s techno had evolved with the times at all, or they’d stick to their rugged guns – but offering up a rather standard reggae dub outing was not what I had in mind. It’s serviceable, I’ll grant it that, and likely would have done serious compilation duty for any ol’ Dub Selector type collection. Say, why didn’t it do so anyway? Was Music Man Records too far off the beaten dub path for the downtempo market to come a knockin’ for singles? They weren’t all Green Velvet and La La Land, you know.

Fortunately for me, Jahquarius and similar tune Detention are the only cuts off Redemption like that. The rest gets back to Bandulu’s toasty slices of unrelenting tribal techno. Their street grit never sounded better, tracks like Redemption (Dub), Smooth Step, and 44100 vintage mid-‘90s bangin’ Bandulu with all the dubby effects their followers appreciate. They also make room for a few Detroit leaning tunes (Vital Sense, Rank, Wetlook), plus a couple downtempo jams too (Bill’s Gate, Mooger, Chapter 6 kinda’). Man, it feels weird saying this is one of Bandulu’s most diverse albums, even though they didn’t stray too far from their traditional sound.

That said, Redemption isn’t a starting point should you still need to take a Bandulu plunge. Rather, it’s a tasty dessert to a satisfying meal of a career. Mmm, foodstuffs…

Various - Dub Selector 2

Quango Records: 2002

Quango's '90s compilations had several sequels to their names, but when the label relaunched at the turn of the millennium, only Dub Selector managed second and third entries. There are two strong possibilities for this. One, it garnered enough sales to warrant sequels, though it seems odd that only this one did (no love for Afrotech or Cosmic Funk in this world?). Two, Quango head Bruno Guez knew he couldn't hope to give the wide world of dub music its full due in a single CD serving. Heck, remember that Bug fella's attempt with Virgin? He resorted to two discs worth for the first volume of Macro Dub Infection, and even that only scratched the surface. So, for all intents, Mr. Guez intended for another showcase of dub music, but of a different style compared to what was featured on the first volume. It would explain the omission of Jamaican roots artists in favour of European producers – they were being saved for this compilation.

If you guessed the second option, you're slightly wrong, though you wouldn't know it without a glance at the track list. Dub Selector 2 is still very Euro-centric in who's behind the consoles, including a few of the same acts showing up. Boozoo Bajou returns, G-Corp returns (this time as their old name, Groove Corporation), Grant Phabao returns, and Noiseshaper returns with their one track Quango just couldn't stop promoting. High-profile acts new to the series here include Thievery Corporation (what's with all these dub corporations?), Nick Holder, and that Dorfmeister guy so many downtempo producers were influenced by. Rounding things out are names like Stereotyp, Scientist, and The Butch Cassidy Sound System, again all European. So it goes with Dub Selector I guess.

Any-however, we get plenty of proper reggae flavour up in this dancehall too, even if it comes in remixed form most of the time. Big Youth, Paul St. Hilaire (aka: Tikiman), and Cutty Ranks make the cut, and unlike the remixed acts of the previous volume, these are presented as authentic Jamaican jams as you'll find. Put another way, I have hardly a clue what ‘d’em rude b’wans’ are going on about, but damn if it isn't wicked-cool hearing their toasting to bouncy roots rhythms and shoulder-shufflin' basslines.

Whether you'll stumble upon any of these Dub Selectors, I haven't a clue, but should these two reviews intrigued you enough to pick up just one (??), I suggest nabbing volume 2 for yourself. The first edition comes off all too safe for a downtempo dub collection, which is fine if you're only just dipping your toes into those warm waters. Isn't it better to challenge that palette of yours every so often though? This CD should do that, honouring the roots of roots music far more than the previous disc. Eh? Dub Selector 3? I don't have that one, though at a glance, holy cow, are there ever a lot of large bands on it. Maybe that one goes proper-proper reggae dub, then?

Various - Dub Selector

Quango Records: 2001

Okay, regarding the 'out of alphabetical order' conundrum surrounding these Quango compilations, I wasn't entirely truthful in the last review. See, I first realized something awry in my music collection's sorting when I passed by all those dub-titled albums two years ago without this one coming through. After a quick search enquiry, I found Dub Selector and its sequel sitting way down in the 'Q's along with a bunch of other Quango compilations. Not really in a hurry to talk up even more dub music so soon, I let them set fallow until such time I should deal with them again. And that time... is now! Ahem...

Anyhow, the selection of dub on Dub Selector skews less reggae roots and more UK downtempo and chill. This, from an American label based in Los Angeles. I keep thinking there’s some meaning behind that, but damn if I know what it is. The artists that make up Dub Selector range far and wide too. Cottonbelly mostly hails from New York City, whereas G-Corp are strictly English. Then you have Germans Boozoo Bajou sharing CD space with French acts like St Germain, Grant Phabao, and I:Cube; elsewhere, there’s Kieser.Velten and The Lost Skrolls Of Hamaric, whom hail from Austria I think. Ah yes, the ol’ Kruder & Dorfmeister connection. Wait, are there any Jamaican acts on Dub Selector? I spy a Luciano (no, not the tech-doff house DJ), but his Police And Thieves is given the remix treatment by G-Corp. At the other end of Dub Selector, there’s Sizzla’s Rain Showers, but he’s remixed by UK duo Bronx Dogs.

Not that I should be terribly surprised by any of this. ‘Jamaican Dub By Way Of White Europeans’ had existed for many years by the time Dub Selector came out, and will continue to existfor many years to come. Not that any of these acts are the bunk either, like so much ‘cod reggae’ goes - each handle the cavernous reverb and groovy, spliffed-out vibes with as much class as you’d expect of producers well-versed in the style. Heck, some of those East Europeans even add a new wrinkle, Kieser.Velten’s Dubolition and How To Find Royal Jelly from the Skrolls guys more on a jazzy-tech tip than pure roots influenced. It wouldn’t surprise me if the likes of Swayzak play-listed something similar – it’s the sort of sound you’d sooner find in gentrified hang-outs than filling dancehall spots.

Like these other Quango compilations, Dub Selector makes for a handy introduction to the world of downtempo dub, though only one slice of it. I honestly have no idea why Bruno Guez, the mastermind behind Quango, opted for such a Euro-centric exposé. Maybe it was simply a means of reeling in potential listeners with something safe and familiar, fresh-faced followers of chilled-out electronic music not quite ready for the pure roots of reggae-influenced dub. Well played if so, but it leaves the connoisseur wanting for options more bold in their selections.

ACE TRACKS:
Luciano - Police And Thieves (G-Corp Remix)
Grand Phabao - Anoub Head Yudu
The Lost Skrolls Of Hamaric - How To Find Royal Jelly

ACE TRACKS: January 2014

Whoa, wait a minute here! How can there already by an ACE TRACKS playlist for January when we’re barely a week into the month? The answer, to the surprise of no one, is that this is the January playlist from last year. Ah, I remember that time so fondly, spending nearly two days straight of finally giving this blog actual sound clips and links via Amazon. Boy, if only I had a different audio service available to me at the time that would have made that process so much easier. If only…



Full track list here.

MISSING ALBUMS:
Doc Scott - Lost In Drum N’ Bass
The Orb - Live 93
DJ Aaron Carter - Lit Up

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 26%
Percentage of Rock: 4%
Most “WTF?” Track: Archie Bleyer - Hernando’s Hideaway (get your tango on, mate)

This was quite an eclectic month, as far as musical genres are concerned. Beyond the highly recognizable electronic names like Leftfield, Ladytron, Infected Mushroom, and FSOL, there’s obscure acid techno, reggae, world music, and grimey UK bass. Also, live albums, so expect to hear more cheering crowds than a KLF record. Surprisingly, the end result isn’t as convoluted or forced as other 'kitchen sink' playlists I’ve done. I won’t deny a couple clunky transitions, though (sorry, Rae’).

The total runtime is about 10 hours here, but that’s because I gave three whole albums Ace Track status that month: Asura’s Life², Bob Marely’s Legend, and GZA’s Liquid Swords. Instead of clumsily worming these LPs’ individual tracks throughout, I’ve lumped each one at the very end of the playlist. It makes better sense having albums that are great straight through represented as such anyway.

The Police - Outlandos d'Amour

A&M Records: 1978/2003

Punk music’s emergence and growth has long been attributed to a youthful counter-reaction to rock’s growing pomposity within prog and jazz-fusion. Looking at some of the biggest bands of the era – The Ramones, Sex Pistols, The Clash, Black Flag, namedrop, namedrop, namedrop – the image that scene cultivated certainly supports the theory. Then you get a trio like The Police, also influenced by punk music, but fronted by musicians that had almost nothing to do with it. Okay, they did have a scrappy start, with financial and critical support so miniscule, you’d think they were a go-nowhere garage band. Plus, it was no secret Sting, Stewart Copeland, and Andy Summers came from the very same prog and jazz-fusion scenes the punk movement so vehemently railed against, seemingly bandwagon jumpers as the music hit its first crossover peak. All in all, The Police had everything working against them, except one key, critical attribute: insanely awesome talent.

They may not have been punk in the strictest sense, but they understood what made that music work. Even better, they could fuse it with other genres like reggae and, yes, jazz, such that it gave their songs remarkable depth for a three-piece act. Seriously, focus on how unique each member sounds – Sting's bass leads, Copeland's dynamic drumming, Summers' playful guitar work – and marvel how well they play off each other.

Of course, that skill initially worked against The Police, many dismissing the debut album Outlandos D'Amour as too slick and polished for a supposed punk band (even with a shoe-string budget and erratic studio time). Even more curiously, their lead singles of Roxanne and Can't Stand Losing You were banned from radio play, dealing with such taboo subjects like prostitution and suicide as they were. On the other hand, if you're ever to gain traction in a counter-culture music scene, being banned from prominent broadcasters was the best way of going about it, and sure enough The Police found their fame growing exponentially soon after. As if a capper on the point, Outlandos D'Amour is now regarded as one of the greatest rock albums of all time. So fickle, the music press.

A few killer singles does not a great album make, however, and you don't need me to tell you how these tunes sound – just turn on your classic rock radio station to hear them once or thrice a day. Instead, gander at some of these less-heralded tunes! Peanuts, a peppy-punk outing that hilariously has Sting shouting “Peanuts! Peanuts!” at the end. Be My Girl and Sally, one a mere pop-punk chorus interrupted by a goofy poem-and-piano bit about a blow-up doll. Masoka Tanga, a... ska jam? Oh, now you're just messing with us, Police man!

Outlandos D'Armour's a fun album, all said. The Police were as tight a band as any of the time, and were still all about having fun with their music, a few years off from getting all socially conscious and shit.

Boney M. - Nightflight To Venus ('Proper' Review)

Song BMG Music Entertainment: 1978/2007

Okay, let's critique this for realsies. Does Nightflight To Venus hold up? Was Frank Farian a mad musical genius or German hack? Why do we forgive Boney M.'s lip-syncing, but ruthlessly crucify the latter Farian-helmed project, Milli Vanilli? Actually, that last one's easily answered: Milli Vanilli won Grammys, while Boney M. did not. Fool the common plebs of music consumers all you want, but don't you dare make a mockery of the Grammys!

It's not like Farian planned a career of studio lurking while pretty boys and girls pranced about on stages, quite content remaining anonymous. Despite a love of funk, disco, soul, reggae, and other contemporary black music, his being way German wouldn't fly with traditional audiences of those scenes. So hiding in the studio suited him fine, but then his Boney M. project got ridiculously popular within a few short years, and a demand for live performances and telecasts forced him to create the stage act we associate with the name. Why not appear live himself? He wouldn’t be taken seriously, of course, unlike having lip-syncers ‘perform’ the music instead. 1970s, you so wacky.

Nightflight To Venus came out when Boney M. was at the height of their popularity, Farian’s perfect blend of disco-pop and euro-reggae having won the ears and hearts of thousands across the continent. How’s a crafty German follow upon such success? Get totally conceptual on the masses’ asses! Well, not too conceptual, but the first two tracks have to rank up there with some of the ballsiest moves a disco-pop producer could open an album with.

Though hopping on the super-hot sci-fi bandwagon with the titular cut wasn’t unprecedented, the fact Farian would craft such a loopy, tribal rhythm had to catch the Boney M. faithful off-guard. Add in marching drums and clapping “Hey! Hey!”s, and it feels as though you’re a part of the Soviet Verena missions to Venus. For that matter, Farian must have had a brief fascination with the Russians, carrying the rhythms through to Rasputin so whatever theme he’d created with Nightflight To Venus was maintained. As for one of the biggest disco-pop hits ever, can you imagine a song about a Russian monk hitting the top of today’s dance charts? Hell, anything with an historical story involved? Utterly, brilliantly daft and genius, that Farian be.

The other big single off here, Rivers Of Babylon, plays more to the group’s Caribbean charms, inoffensive music often emanating from radios, though anyone deeply versed in reggae won’t find much of interest there. And if I’m honest, that’s also true for the disco cuts He Was A Steppenwolf and Voodoonight. Farian does have a way with a hook though, and slick production chops that you can’t help but find yourself grooving to. It’s the sort of music most DJs wouldn’t mind playing as part of a fun mixtape, the unheralded album tracks that somehow work against all odds. Go on, admit your unabashed adoration for Boney M. Rasputin compels you to...

Boney M. - Nightflight To Venus (Anecdotal 'Review')

Song BMG Music Entertainment: 1978/2007

Say what you want about Boney M. – and believe me, you won't be saying anything new – it's undeniable their popularity's endured thanks to Frank Farian's impeccable production chops and savvy marketing. Hell, it sure worked for me, Nightflight To Venus an irresistible concept to a kid just discovering things like Star Wars and other cool space-orientated- ack, no, no! I won’t turn this review into an endless parade of anecdotes. My self-imposed word count doesn’t allow for it. Okay, focus, focus...

Nope, not happening. I’m not getting through this review without dropping more. Sure, I could be all professional and shit about Nightflight To Venus, but there’s no fun in that. I’ve so many stories tied to this record, so many memories as a kid listening to it. You know what, screw it. I’m going all the way down Anecdote Alley here, and if that’s a problem, come back tomorrow where I’ll deal with the album proper-like. I gotta’ get this nostalgia outta’ my system, folks.

Nightflight To Venus is undeniably ground zero for my enjoyment of so many things musically: catchy hooks and harmonies, DJ mixes, dance rhythms, space-themed music, and Neil Young. For a kid getting into sci-fi, the titular opener was utter catnip for a fruitful imagination. Those robot voices, sound effects, gnarly guitar licks, and thumping rhythms was unlike anything I’d heard before, purely driven by a concept than actual song writing. Then it kept going into a totally different song about a bizarre Russian named Rasputin, with some of ear-wormiest hooks I’d ever heard. It blew my young mind you could even do that with music, make two separate tunes seem like one! And those awesome choruses are filled throughout Nightflight To Venus, some with lyrics that seem almost intended to be sung along with by kids (Painter Man, Rivers Of Babylon, Brown Girl In The Ring).

What’s elevated Nightflight To Venus above so many other albums of my young life, however, is the fact it was the first record I recall listening to front-to-back, and aside from Raffi’s Baby Beluga (shaddap), would remain the only one I would repeatedly do so for many years. For as much as I enjoyed The Police’s records too, I still could only ever get through half a Side A before getting bored. While Boney M.’s fun music was part of my willingness to go the distance, the fact one of my favourite songs on the album, Heart Of Gold, was at the end, forced me to sit patiently through the whole record to hear it (the original’s country? No way, this is the real version!). Even the slower ‘message’ song before it, Never Change Lovers In The Middle Of The Night, couldn’t deter me from waiting in anticipation for those wonderful vocal harmonies and funky disco guitar licks emerging. It instilled a listening habit that persists to this day, of appreciating albums as collective wholes rather than jumping from song to song. Well done, Nightflight To Venus. Well done.

Dub Trees - Nature Never Did Betray The Heart That Loved Her

LSD - Liquid Sound Design: 2000

This is the sort of CD that was destined for an 'impulse buy'. Fifty bones to drop in the music shop, with so many familiar artists floating about; yet rather predictable in what you'll get on a disc. No, I'll hold off on getting another progressive trance DJ mix or deep house label compilation. I want something new and unexpected, but just familiar enough that it won't possibly be a total waste of money. There, that CD with 'Dub Trees' on the cover. I know dub music, and with a hippie-dippy title like Nature Never Did Betray The Heart That Loved Her, I've a good feeling the music will be something like Waveform Records. Hm, Youth's the main producer here. I feel like I should know that name. Oh well, Dragonfly Records usually releases psy-trance, so maybe we'll get some Planet Dog type of psychedelic dub stuff.

Yeah, we got that, and more. For a psy-dub album, Nature Never etc. etc. is remarkably diverse, Youth dipping his dubby toes deep into various forms of the genre. For his dub roots run deep, like a tree, yo' – you could even say *dons dreadlock wig* he's a Dub Tree, yeaaahh, mon! Wait, that wasn’t a pun?

Anyhow, Martin Glover had been floating about various music scenes for a while, most famously playing bass in post-punk band Killing Joke and contributing to early albums from The Orb and System 7. Along the way he got sucked into the world of goa trance, and even found time to set up a label promoting the stuff. He must have gotten right proper inspired by the emerging psy-dub sounds that were carrying on from what Dr. Alex Paterson and he had kicked off with ambient dub, taking his own stab at it with this one-off Dub Trees project. Roping in for music contributions were long-time producing partner Greg Hunter, plus Simon Posford, fresh off his first Shpongle LP. Indian world-dub fusion group Suns Of Arqa also contribute, but no Bill Laswell, because Dub Trees already gots them a bass player, mang.

With so many influences thrown into this dub soup, Nature Never yada yada yada is about as offbeat and eclectic as this music can go without stepping outside its comfort zone. There are straight-up reggae rhythms (Butterfly Trilogy), synthy interludes (Cobalt Waterfall), quirky sampling (Buffalo, La Rosa), dark meditative excursions (Orpheus), opium dens flying through space (Dreamlab), psy-dub grooves (Magnetica), and goof-ball bass drops (Concrete Tourist). All of which, natch, filtered through more dub effects than you can shake a King Tubby at.

If all this sounds like “just another trippy dub album”, you’re right, although Youth’s definitely a better song crafter than most out there, having rubbed shoulders with so many masters of the genre. This album also acts as a sort of bridge between ambient dub of the ‘90s, and psy-dub of the ‘00s, not a bad thing if you’ve endlessly debated the merits of either. Does anyone even do that?

Various - FabricLive.31: The Glimmers

Fabric: 2006

*cover art brought to you by FabricLive's “ARTIST IN BIG FUCKING LETTERS” period*

The FabricLive series features quite a few acts I’m very familiar with. Due to the proliferation of breaks and jungle DJs, I’ve probably seen a good third of them, those scenes holding strong in various spots of the backdoors of British Columbia, especially so the Shambhala Music Festival. The 'party-in-the-mountains' boasts a vibrant jungle and breaks contingent, and were even early adopters of dubstep when that genre had barely begun its exodus from the UK. Plump DJs, Adam Freeland, Freestylers, Stanton Warriors, Diplo, Andy C, DJ Craze, A-Trak, Drop The Lime, and even all the way up to the latest (lambasted) FabricLive contributors Jack Beats, I’ve had the chance to check out live.

Then there’s a duo like The Glimmers. I’d never heard of these guys before, and upon reading their bio, I feel right stupid for not knowing them. Formerly the Glimmer Twins (re: Mick Jagger and Keith Richards nicknames), David Fouquaert and Mo Becha picked up the DJ trade nearly thirty years ago, playing out at Belgium clubs before raves were even a glint in the UK’s dilated eyes. Their accomplishments were relatively humble throughout the ‘90s, never seeking the spotlight but always in the mix of things within clubland, offering a funky, soulful alternative to rave’s blistering energy or eurodance’s camp. As their tracklists often contained unsung ‘80s hip-hop, rare dub reggae, and ‘70s French disco, some PR guy must have noticed how marketable such proper retro vibes were once such ‘anything goes’ mixtapey mixes grew in popularity at the turn of the century. Suddenly The Glimmers were releasing singles, LPs, DJ mixes (including one for DJ-Kicks a year prior to FabricLive.31 - how did I miss these guys!?), and receiving plenty of deserving spotlight.

Unsurprisingly for a duo influenced by the early days disco and glam, their set runs through plenty of tunes from names recognizable (Roxy Music, Freddie Mercury, Howie B.) to wacky obscure (Arpadys); from upfront disco funk (LCD Soundsystem Disco Infiltrator, their own Kobe’s In Columbia) to ancient oddities (psych-rock fuzz jam Pierre Henry); and we can’t forget those curious trainspotter’s classics either (George Kranz’ Din Daa Daa, The League Unlimited Orchestra’s Things That Dreams Are Made Of).

With all these eclectic tunes and genres, why The Glimmers must be DJ gods to make it all flow smoothly together! Ah, no, not really. Well over half these tracks are pre-‘90s, and as any DJ worth their needles will tell you, beatmatching records from those days is nothing but headaches. Instead, we get quick crossfades, intermittent ka-lumping phrasing, and songs that outright end with a half-breath of space before the next start. There’s just no simple way of segueing disco punk into reggae dub, is there.

Was This Worth The Pennies Paid For It?
I’m a sucker for mixtape sets unearthing the past as The Glimmers do here. Chalk up another steal for the money spent.

Various - Macro Dub Infection, Volume 1

Virgin: 1995

Before he was turning dancehall heads as The Bug, Kevin Martin paid his flat money compiling a few CDs for Virgin Records. His first was the fourth volume of Virgin's double-disc ambient series showcasing acts from the genre's lengthy history, most of the prior volumes culling material from Virgin's own extensive back catalogue. Having exhausted all the familiar names though, they turned to Mr. Martin for his expertise on most things avant-garde, experimental, and dubby. Not sure what prompted Virgin’s show of faith in an oddball post-rocker, but his selections must have impressed the label enough to give him his own short-lived series, Macro Dub Infection. Or maybe Virgin just wanted in on that 'ambient dub house' trend The Orb spearheaded. Way to be late to the game, guys!

Still, Pre-Bug didn’t follow that rule by a long shot. Instead, he gathered up two CDs worth of dub-influenced music from across the electronic board. Some names and tunes are about as you’d expect from a compilation style-biting Beyond’s gimmick. Opener The Struggle Of Life from The Disciple hits all those classic ambient reggae-dub vibes, and other familiar jams from 2 Badcard, Rootsman, Automaton (Bill Laswell under his eight-zillionth alias) round out a first half of tunes most likely expected of a compilation titled Marcro Dub Infection. What’s that atmospheric jungle cut from Spring Heel Jack doing at the second position though? Yeah, there’s plenty of dubby affects at work in there, but no one said this was a drum ‘n’ bass collection too. Wait, Omni Trio’s on this as well? Pft, if you think that’s odd, get a load of classic industrial group Coil getting in on this action; not to mention indie post-rockers Tortoise, IDM wonk Bedouin Ascent, and ill trip-hoppers Skull vs. Ice. And that’s just CD1!

Frankly, ol’ Kev’ going off the proper deep end by showing off even the most tangently dub music out there (it’s an infection upon all musics!) is about the best way he could have put this together. Retreading the reggae-roots style so many others had before would be utterly redundant in 1995, and plenty others were filling in other aspects of dub (Planet Dog’s got the ethno-psy-dub covered, mang). Better to show off acts few would associate with the macro-genre while you have the chance.

Most interesting are the tracks by names that might have lured potential buyers based on chart recognition. The Paranormal In 4 Forms finds breaks pioneers 4 Hero running the gamut of ambient, trip-hop, jungle, and even classic techno in a span of eight minutes. Elsewhere on CD2, Tricky goes all weird abstraction with Ambient Pumpkin (oh hi, Goldfrapp). And I’ll take the ambient techno-dub style of Bandulu’s Come Forward any day, mainly because Macro Dub Infection’s the only place one can find this track.

In fact, there’s quite a few exclusives and rarities on this collection, just another of its selling points. Variety of music and extensive liner notes of dub’s history aren’t bad incentives either.

Sounds From The Ground - Luminal

Waveform Records: 2004

After jumping around labels for their first decade as Sounds From The Ground, Jones and Woolfson finally settled on Waveform to handle most of their distribution upon releasing Luminal. It also started off a sort-of trilogy on their part, exploring all that one can explore within the realm of ambient dub. I've already covered two here, Brightwhitelight and High Rising. And now we've come to the end, at the beginning. Huh, who'd have thought I'd do this in reverse. In a nutshell, the duo was a bit all over the place for their first few releases, which likely explains their label jumping too. More recently, they've explored darker downtempo, glitch and drone, but I'll get to that's for reviews much later on. Figures in the middle of this career they’d settle into a comfortable rhythm.

As Luminal was the first in this trilogy, it doesn't quite reach the highs of High Rising. For what it's worth, though, I find this one more interesting than Brightwhitelight. There's still some of the duo's acid jazz background cropping up (they'd released another album but two years prior on Ninja Tune sub-label Nu-Tone), so it’s not all ambient dub all the time. Heck, opener Stampede wouldn’t sound out of place on a Thievery Corporation album, sans occasional galloping horse samples. In fact, if you’re at all familiar with Thiev-Corp’s first album, Sounds From The Thievery Hi-Fi (and shame on you if you’re not), you’ll find yourself in familiar territory with the first couple tracks off Luminal.

After that though, it’s proper dub t’ings. Whether with cascading synth washes in Razz and Poems, smoky reggae roots in Tumbledown and Ten Tons Of Dope, funky upbeat numbers like Burning Bright and London Fields (which includes a lengthy intro of ambient pad bliss), or a soulful jam with Move On, the thick bass and spacious reverb is in full effect. Yep, Luminal definitely sounds good for a mid-‘00s Sounds From The Ground album. Yessir, it does. So... um, how’s things with you?

Look, there’s little more to say on this one. Everything I can say about how this album sounds, I’ve covered in the other two reviews I mentioned above. I’ve plumb run out of things now, and I fear it’s selling Luminal short. Hell, I’m selling ambient dub as a viable genre short, aren’t I? Guess it can’t be helped. Like so many branches in music, sometimes a genre will have stronger connection to a listener than others and, for whatever reason, ambient dub hits that sweet spot for yours truly, despite the simplistic nature much of its produced in. For others, it might be minimal deep-tech, others still dub techno or noodly drone. I can vibe on some of those too, yet more often than not, this is my go-to sound, nicely presented from the ground.

I do give Luminal a recommendation if you’re even a casual fan of blissy downtempo vibes, but it ain’t a big deal if you pass on it either.