Vector Lovers - Afterglow

Soma Quality Recordings: 2007

I sure wasn't expecting this. My lone exposure to Vector Lovers around this point was the Late Shift / Babette EP, two tracks clearly with tech-house DJs in mind, and which I assumed his most recent album, Afterglow, mostly focused on. Never mind neither track appeared on the album, and that they were released on a label that has nothing to do with Mr. Wheeler's usual outlet. It's just standard practice that, within a window of a couple years, the music on EPs will sound like the music on LPs. And while those were fine for what they are, they didn't urge me to check out Afterglow, presumptuous as I was in thinking it'd be a record full of the stuff. I mean, geez, there wasn't any of the electro-anime aesthetic that made me love his self-titled debut.

I was half-right. Afterglow is definitely a much different beast compared to Vector Lovers and Capsule For One. Rather than dealing with feelings of loneliness in a hyper-technological age though, this album shoots far further into the future, in the aftermath of a nuclear wasteland. There's still that characteristic Martin Wheeler melancholy lurking in the melodies, but they're far more sparse and isolated, a sadder, darker tone permeating the atmosphere as a barely surviving civilization comes to grips with just how fucked up shit has turned.

Okay, Afterglow may not specifically be about that. I mean, that ominous mushrooming glow in the background of the cover art could be the sun setting over a hilltop. On the other hand, the opening track is called Half-Life, which mostly features Geiger Counter pops, despondent strings, and the sounds of something scuffling through abandoned radio frequencies. I'm pretty sure the Fallout games start like that.

Following Half-Life, we get tracks with titles like Far Side Of The Tracks, Rusting Cars And Wild Flowers, Piano Dust, and Dusk Panorama, all painting a rather bleak and desolate vista from which this music dwells. And things don't lighten within the the tunes themselves, a fair bit of empty space and twitchy experimentation going on throughout. Even the tracks with those vintage twee Vector Lovers melodies can't escape the ominous overtones. Example: an inky, oozing bassline accompanying the chipper, sliding leads in A Field. Of what few 'upbeat' tunes Martin provides, even they can't escape the omnipresent gloom. Crash Premonition features what sounds like klaxon bells echoing from the distance before settling into a groovy tech-house number, complete with lyrics about the freedom of the open road, long lost in this wasteland. No funky dancing robots in this place.

Overall, Afterglow reminds me of Boards Of Canada's Tomorrow's Harvest, similar ideas and themes explored, though through Wheeler's electro-glitch lens. And despite a slight glimmer of hope emerging in the titular closer (nature reclaiming its lost lands), this is one depressing album. It's a good kind of depression, mind you, the sort you savour for rainy days, but man, do I need to mentally prep for it before going in.

I:Cube - Adore

Versatile Records: 1999

An album I've long looked forward to talking about, but also kinda' feared doing so. For some, I:Cube's sophomore effort is among the glistening jewels of criminally overlooked French house gems, a record that should have been at the tips of everyone's tongue come the new millennium, and cemented Nicolas Chaix among the upper elite of clubland's tastemakers. I suppose I rank myself among those “some”, Adore blowing my mind when I stumbled upon it. I knew of him, tracks like Le Dub and the titular cut appearing on mixes and compilations in my collection, but I had no idea he was this versatile. Maybe I should have, what with his appearing on Versatile Records.

Yet despite getting playlisted by a wide range of DJs over the years, I:Cube never broke through to the rarefied French air acts like Daft Punk and AIR occupy. Mr. Chaix' project remained an underground darling, one that heady wax spinners expose to an unsuspecting audience at those 'perfect moments' in a set. Then someone in that audience will run up to the DJ, eyes alight with wonderment, inquiring, “Dude! What was that song? It was so funky and deep!” And the DJ will smile with a slight nod, knowing his job was done, and he could now comfortably return to his home planet. “Gastro Funk,” he replies. “Gastro Funk by I:Cube.” Then the punter will furiously tap through his smartphone options, voraciously searching online for that one jam he heard that night, saving it for a future playlist. It's a tale as old as time.

Adore has all that I've ever wanted in a French-pop, electro-dub, deep house record. The titular opener hits you with sweeping strings and groovy-chill Latin rhythms, La La La hits you with the swingin' funk and French soul, Le Dub and Tropiq go deeper down the dub lane, and Cash Conv. gets a little techy with I:Cube's deep house stylee. A bunch of nonsense happens for a few tracks, then we're right back into the deep house bliss of Deep Republic, Pooh Pah (it makes sense when you hear the 'lyrics'), and ultra-deep dub techno of Dans la Piece Vide (DeepChord approved, I'm sure).

Eh, that skipped over bit? It's nothing. No, it's nothing! Okay, it's something. What holds Adore back from being a nigh-perfect record, is what. Yeah, my opinion and all, but seriously, the noisy, abrasive stabs at loud club fodder always sound out of place compared to the proper-deep vibes the rest of Adore cultivates. Caca Carnival at least has a little pep to it when it's not indulging those farty noises, and Lak does bring things back to the deep electro, though its drifting out of key leaves a sour taste on my ears. These tracks don't break the album, but sadly blemish it enough such that I honestly don't return to Adore as often as I'd like. Ah well, at least it lets me savour the rest all that much more when I do return.

Scott Grooves - Key Statements - The Beginning: The Soiree Collection 1992-1995

Soiree Records International: 2017

Yes, the beginning. The start of it all. The alpha happening. The prime, um, kickoff. Whatever you want to call it, these are the tracks Scott Grooves initially got his groove on with, a smattering of singles and remixes for Detroit based Soiree Records International. He'd shortly after get a deal with Soma Quality Recordings, which led to the single A New Day, the album Pieces Of A Dream, and we already know all this because I just talked about it in the Pure Mixin' It retrospective. So let's give a quick rundown on Soiree instead.

Not a major print by any stretch, but they've been in operation since 1990, releasing a few records every year to this day. I honestly don't recognize anyone on this label, but there must be enough love for acts like Glenn Vernon, Pleasure Device, Drivetrain, and CloudMasterWeed to have kept the lights on for nearly three decades now. Nothing can stop the Motor City deep house machine!

Yeah, we're in house's house, and really, if you clicked on a review for a guy called Scott Grooves and weren't expecting house of some sort, let me be the first to welcome you to our planet - please take your litter with you when you leave. This American house though, it's in that weird transitional era from the classic Chicago sound of the decade before, and the full-on loopin', disco n' funk revival that would define the latter half of the '90s. At this point, the deeper, bumpin' New York and Miami style was dominating the clubs, producers like Masters At Work and labels like Strictly Rhythm large and in charge. Scott Grooves may have hailed from Detroit, but that don't mean he wasn't heavily influenced by that sound either, much of the music here fitting comfortably snug within clubs out on the east coast. It'd be a few more years before Detroit musicians stopped fighting their natural inclination to put the 'tech' into their house.

Despite some ultra-tight drum programming that's just part of any Detroit producer's DNA, Scott Grooves doesn't do much here distinguishing him from the deep, eastcoast bump 'n grind vibe. Which is fair, the chap undoubtedly still learning the ropes of production while DJing remained his main focus.

His two Key Statements cuts work a sparse groove just fine, with that punctual squarewave bassline bobbin' about as a soul sista' or piano/organ/saxaphone/xylophone improvises between the vocals. His remixes for Pam Vernon, Sweet B, Lawanda, and Kiata generally follow the same formula, though the production's got a deeper, richer atmosphere to them – less stiff than the Key Statements cuts. The collection ends on a couple unreleased items - On My Way and Anything 4 You - and it's here Scott's Detroit lineage peaks through, tunes sounding far more futurist and 'techy' than anything New York was churning out, but still on that deep house vibe nonetheless. Dang, why'd it take this long to revive these, yo'?

Lusine - A Certain Distance

Ghostly International: 2009

(a Patreon Request from Omskbird)

Jeff McIlwain (ergh, there's that 'upper case, lower case' thing again) seems like the sort of producer I should have stumbled upon more recently than via a Patreon Request. And while I do have a single track of his under his L'usine handle, it comes care of a James Zabiela Renaissance Masters set that must have completely passed me by, as I failed to name-drop him in that review. Yet taking in his back-catalogue, I'm hearing things I like, and would have vibed on had I come across them sooner. Well, maybe not so much that self-titled first album, itself treading into the sterile domain of serious IDM. Following that though, it seems Mr. McIlwain fell sway to Boards Of Canada-itis, slowing his songcraft down to a laid-back trip-hop tempo with warm, hazy melodies, while still retaining some of his glitchier tendencies. Then Wolfgang Voigt made shoegazey ambient dronescapes popular with Pitchfork sorts, so we got to hear a little of that as well in subsequent albums. Along the way, Jeff hooked up with Ghostly International, they the home of such Very Important people in the world of techno like Matthew Dear, Solvent, Tycho, and Com Truise. Ah, that's probably why I kinda' flaked on L'usine: my nonsensical instinct to bypass labels techno journalists sing praises of. I blame minimal's overexposure for this gut reaction. No no, it's fine, minimal all too aware of its past sins – it's a burden it can bear.

Anyhow, despite having crafted a half-dozen LPs by the end of the '00s, A Certain Distance was only McIlwain's second proper album with Ghostly International (Podgelism being a remix album of Serial Hodgepodge). Trends had definitely continued changing in all that time, and Jeff had no problem keeping his L'usine project at pace with them. Oh yes, there's blip-bloop, white-noise tech-haus on here, though only one track, Every Disguise. Ignore its hilariously dated hausiness, and enjoy the tunes that haven't dated so much.

Yeah, that opener Operation Costs, with it's low-key electro funk and toasty-crisp glitch, that's the stuff (apparently also the tune on that aforementioned Zabiela set – how did I miss this?). Or how about a song that wouldn't be out of place on a classic Hed Kandi chill-out CD, Two Dots a peppy electro glitch-pop romp featuring soul-jazz singing from Vilja Larjosto - Twilight and, to a lesser extent, Gravity, also get in on that action. Wait, you came here because you fell sway to L'usine's earlier IDM-hop? Don't worry, Jeff has you covered with Tin Hat and Baffle. And don't worry, disc-jockeys, you get your dancefloor pounds of flesh as well in Crowded Room (smooth electro house) and Cirrus (pure crowd pleasing anthem, in that muted Booka Shade vein). Man, hearing how effective these two tracks are only highlights how out-of-place Every Disguise comes off. Please don't tell me Every Disguise somehow ended up the most rinsed-out tune off this album. A Certain Distance has far better tunes on it than that one.

The Field - Looping State Of Mind

Kompakt: 2011

It shouldn't have taken me this long to get myself another album from The Field, but you know me. A darling techno act, lauded by indie media who don't usually fuss with 'techno', and here's ol' Sykonee, giving it that 'Drake Pass meme' pose, all the while pointing with a smile at some obscure ambient techno item. Not an out-and-out rejection, mind you, but I can't help but let these sort of releases sit on the back-burner for a few years, the hype passing long enough to approach it with fresh ears, unsullied by what Very Important People tell me I should be listening to. Though I do wonder, why have I still not gotten Mr. Willner's debut From Here We Go Sublime? Like, for sure I've heard it (yay streaming), but it's been over a decade since it first came out, more than enough time having passed such that I shouldn't feel like I'm just hoping on a hype bandwagon.

And it's not like this particular album of Looping State Of Mind wasn't equally hailed when it dropped. Right, maybe not quite the same Metacritic heights as Sublime, but still a darn good response from the usual suspects. Yet whereas Sublime continues to be held in reverence, Looping has kinda' fallen the way of Yesterday & Today, simply seen as just another record in The Field's discography that ever so gradually evolved his songcraft. Maybe it didn't help that it carried the white cover art from Sublime, so it's forever compared to that one (sure didn't help Yesterday's cause). Not to mention Axel flipped the cover-art switch in his next couple records, sub-consciously making us believe those albums were of more importance than supposed retreads. Crafty and diabolical, those cover artists.

Ah well, that just means I get to enjoy it more for the album that it is, and not some Very Important, genre-defining, upper-echelon work of techno mastery (or something). And me, I dig Mr. Willner fearlessness in utilizing more instruments into his brand of 'shoegaze techno'. The bassline in opener Is This Power is one of the grooviest I've heard out of The Field camps, while follow-up It's Up There coaxes out a suitably heavenly techno loop-fest before changing lanes for a lengthy, funk outro (well, as funky as white Germans doing techno can get). Elsewhere, Axel proves he could continue crafting epic, escalating, wall-of-sound techno beasts like Arpeggiated Love and the titular cut till the end of days without a hitch if he so chose.

Fortunately, he has a little more ambition than that, the final two tracks mellowing things right the f' down. Then It's White feels almost jazzy despite being no less loopy than his other techno works, while Sweet Slow Baby treads into abstract territory, its overlapping short loops having something of an ambient drone tone about them. Makes me want to check out where The Field went after this. Eh, what about that first album? Man, that's all in the past.

Alex Smoke - Incommunicado

Soma Quality Recordings: 2005

Yet another item I picked up in my Soma Quality Recordings splurge, for a reason that should be obvious to anyone. See, despite neglecting him for so long, I've long been a fan of Alex Smoke, from his appearance in Chris Fortier's impeccable contribution to the Balance series (three! CDs!) to his closing out of Marco Carola's contribution to the fabric series, ending that abysmal mix of minimal techno and giving me a sense of relief. Okay, none of that's actually true. I picked Incommunicado up because the samples I heard weren't all minimal (an impressive feat for a techno album in the mid '00s), the cover art looked cool (gotta' love radio telescopes!), and it was a release from the year 2005, a year I've sorely neglected for over a decade now (has finally caught up to 2011 tho'!).

Anyhow, Alex Smoke (Mr. Menzies to the Glasgowian Guard) pretty much got his production break right off the bat, scoring a minor techno hit with his Chica Wappa single on Soma, from which this debut album came a year after. He stuck things out with Soma for a few more years (plus several more records) before striking out on his own with his own label in Hum+Haw. That didn't last too long though, and more recently he's been releasing material through R & S Records, with a few one-offs on various labels. Not to mention his time spent DJing, but that's practically a given with most UK techno dudes anyway. Overall, a fairly typical techno career, one that's earned Mr. Smoke enough buzz that folks recognize his name whenever it crops up.

Having a solid debut album certainly helps though, and Incommunicado definitely is that. Released when minimal was becoming the trendiest shit around, but not so trendy that it dominated everything everywhere everyhow, it gives everyone a bit of every-techno you could every-want in every-2005.

For sure you get the classic stuff like Chica Wappa and OK, stuff more on a minimalist bent like Lost In Sound, and stuff on the trendy, blippy-bloopy minimal bent like Nuance and Passing Through. Look, few knew just how massive minimal was gonna' be at that point, so Alex may as well cover his bases a little there. Besides, his offerings are perfectly fine for that sound, by no means as plodding as the genre would turn in but a couple short years.

Elsewhere, you get experimental electro cuts (Coda & Clang, Recess), some moody tech-house tracks with digital vocals (No Consequence, Don't See The Point, Ditto), a melodic breakbeat tune (6AM), an... electro-house (?) track with Brian's Lung, and whatever strange, abstract glitchy trip-hop thing Jah Future is supposed to be. Cool, is what I call it, only adding to Incommunicado's eclecticism. All these diversions might be a bit much for those who were expecting this album to be a pure minimal techno outing (because 2005), but without that variety, I wouldn't have picked this up. It's what's important.

Various - Hyperdub 10.4

Hyperdub: 2014

You'd think with the camo cover art, the fourth volume of Hyperdub's Tenth Anniversary Box-Set Spectakaganza would be getting down with the jungle scene. It makes sense, after all, UK garage and d'n'b having a mutual understanding of cross-pollination. They hang out at the same venues, where none of that cheesy cracker-trance or lame-o house music is being played, and maybe even share a few musical ideas between each other. Not too much though, as junglists are all about that purity, and UK garage followers... actually, I don't know what they consider 'pure' in their scene, so many mutations having emerged from it since the turn of the millennium. It was all so simpler when all you had was 2-step, grime, and speed. Now, it's all a confuzzled mess, especially after that which is dubstep infected both scenes with varying degrees of interest and suckitude.

Anyhow, all this is moot because the camo is a lie. There is no jungle here, nowhere on either CD of this double-discer closer. Unless the camo is meant to reflect the disguise you didn't see coming at all with a Hyperdub compilation, of a genre that most would figure never had a chance of appearing among future garage, nu-soul, wonky-step, and 'night bus' ambient (dear God, Beatport actually tried to make that a thing!). I am, of course, talking about the one electronic genre to rule them all: techno. Because no matter how disparate, divergent, or unique a sound you may enter with, everyone returns to the mean of making either house or techno. It's an absolutism none can resist, even those dudes with the crappy, choppy beat boxes.

I wouldn't go so far as to call everything among these twenty-eight tracks techno. Some of it is 2-step garage, some of it is bassline house (aka: speed garage without the garage), and some of it is that weirdo electro-grime thing that could only have been made somewhere among the streets of South London, an impossible fusion of so many different things, it's entirely it's own thing (so, future garage, then). It's stuff like that that gave Hyperdub that extra edge among its contemporaries. Well, that, plus all the other things highlighted in the previous five CDs.

Generally though, Hyperdub 10.4 sticks to the stripped-back techno, spiced with that distinct UK urban flavour. Maybe some vintage bleep/rave tuneage (Funkystepz' Vice Versa), or a dubby minimal rinse-out (Fhloston Paradigm's The Phoenix), or Detroit-funk all wobbled up in a ketamine daze (Kode9 & Spaceape's Love Is The Drug). There's quite a bit to take in here, though if I'm honest, the deliberately stripped aesthetic UK garage of this era loves kinda' makes much of this sound like cheap filler on generic techno compilations of the '90s. Not saying Hyperdub should have stayed in their lane, and I'm sure many of these tunes make for fine compliments to any tech-house or techno set. Two CDs of it though, it's just too much for a single sitting.

L.S.G. - Double Vision

Bonzai Progressive: 2017

Crazy to think it took fifteen years for Oliver Lieb to release a full-length album, and a double-LP at that. Yes, including The Unreleased Album, now officially released on his Solieb Digital print, but first made way back in 2002. Also, there was Inside Voices under his own name with Psychonavigation Records, but since that label hideously collapsed, the album's status is currently in limbo. Double Vision though, there is no doubt. Two CDs full of proper new tunes, released on a print in no danger of disappearing, and under an old reliable alias fans have been hoping a return to for ages. Take all my money, Mr. Lieb!

Still, it requests the question, where does L.S.G. fit in modern clime's? The heart-pumping trance that the moniker built its rep' on hasn't been in vogue for an age, and ol' Oliver hasn't shown any signs of returning to that style. He's well moved on from the minimal techno of Solieb – it was only fashionable for a short while anyway – but his few recent, scattered singles seem uncertain where his lane now is. Melodic techno? Spacey tech-house? Whatever thing Norman Feller's managed to sustain a career on? And is there even a need to keep making club singles anyway? L.S.G. had been trending towards the chill-out camps ever since Into Deep, but would there even be interest in another ambient outing after the lukewarm response to Inside Voices? So many options, so many ideas – ah, just double-album the return, filling all the creative needs!

And as CD1 opens with the grand space ambience of Seven Worlds, melting into a slow-burner with groovy rhythms, sci-fi sounds, and epic synth builds of Escape The Galaxy, all I can think is, “Damn, have I missed L.S.G.!” Oliver's always had a unique touch with rhythm and melody, instantly recognizable and never dull (if a little predictable though, one must admit), and long time fans should feel right at home here, tracks like Vapor and Passion reflecting glories past – even the rhythms take what Lieb learned from his Solieb days, putting it to far greater use. And if you do need some evolution along with his vintage sounds, how about a little psychedelic big-beat bedlam in Tipsy Flower and Perfect Blue? That ought to trigger your Future Sound Of London receptors. Also, Suborbital reminds me of an old, obscure Steve Porter prog cut (Innerpulse), which I have to assume is just a coincidence.

Even though it's the obligatory 'chill' disc, CD1 contains some serious body movin' beats. That can only mean CD2 is gonna' tear things out, right? Eh, it's definitely more upbeat, though still hovering a dozen BPMs lower than Lieb's classic stuff. I also don't find this disc quite as interesting as the first, contemporary 'peak time' tech-trance with vintage Lieb flourishes. It has its moments, but after awhile, I start itching for a little Black Album business. Now that's some mainroom techno that'll scare the kids away!

Laurent Garnier - 30

F Communications: 1997

Though 30 is Laurent Garnier's second full-length album, I always think of it as his first. Or at least, the start of his musical kleptomania taking hold. His first album, Shot In The Dark, was a strict techno exercise, more a gathering of tunes rinsed out at his Wake Up club night. Upon entering his third decade of travelling around Sol, however, the famed Frenchman was itching to stretch his muse beyond dancefloor tools. A few smatterings of tracks across aliases nudged him into areas like house and trance, but there be broken-beats out there too, by g'ar.

You know you're in for a Serious Artistic Album when your opener is two minutes of minimalist, moody ambient. Deep Sea Diving certainly imparts a sense of dwelling among the Drexciyan fish-folk, though as it doesn't relate much to the rest of the album, comes off superfluous as an opener. Might have made for a decent mid-record intermission though.

From there, we get a few varieties of techno. Sweet Mellow D and Mid Summer Night get in on that freeform Detroit action, teasing out a steady rhythm for almost excruciating lengths, though when that kick hits, it doesn't stick for long. At the other end of the spectrum, we get Crispy Bacon and Flashback, straight-forward techno bangers, with the latter indulging a fair bit of acid too. Unsurprisingly, these were the main singles off 30, since this was the sound most folks familiar with Garnier would be after.

One track preceded those, an almost novelty limited edition records called The Hoe. It samples the line “She ain't nuthin' but a hoe”, looping and cutting it up into a ghetto techno cut that, save some simple strings in the back-half, sounds nothing like Laurent's typical output. Surely the Frenchman has more class than this in his music, though DJ Hell got enough of a kick out of it to provide a remix. And not just as a one-off, 'ghetto-tech' cuts also appearing in the form of electro in Kallit! and I Funk Up. Yep, ol' Laurent was getting himself in on that electro-revival just as it was set to blow up, though I doubt anyone noticed it here. Too enamoured by Crispy Bacon.

There's also a trip-hop outing in For Max, a little reggae techno-dub in Theme From Larry's Dub, a dash of deep house in Feel The Fire, an ethereal outro with chanting, drumming, and synths cribbed from Go To Sleep, plus assorted gimmick interludes, including what I assume is Laurent's child giggling in *?*.

As you can tell, 30 is an album that's all over the place, good tracks scattered among genre dalliances that have been done better elsewhere, including within Laurent's future discography. The tonal clash between some tunes is jarring, to say the least, and I'm not sure how The Hoe could have fit in with anything else here. Folks'll find 30 is best served as a bridge between two different eras of Garnier's production career.

Various - Soma Records: 20 Years (Slam & Silicone Soul Mixes)

Soma Quality Recordings: 2011

A 20-Years party ain't complete without a couple DJ mixes thrown into the, um, mix, and Soma Records has plenty of tools in their arsenal to do the deed with. As is typical in such an event, one set handles current material, while the other digs deep into the archives, and the results are about as you'd expect. No matter how 'cutting edge' or 'forward thinking' or 'better produced' current material may present itself, it simply cannot hold a candle to the bonafide classics standing the test of time. It is what it is, so you can only hope that the upfront tunes at least don't embarrass themselves too much in relying on gimmicky trends of the era they came out in.

And Slam's set (the 'current' one) mostly avoids such pratfalls. The Soma owners grant themselves some leeway in plucking tunes that have been a part of the label's history by presenting them with contemporary remixes. This includes Diabla (Christian Smith & Wehbba Remix), Stepback (Adam Beyer & Jesper Dahlback Remix), Passage Of Time (D'Julz Remix), Lifetimes (Pan-Pot Bass Times Mix), Right On, Right On (Nick Curly Remix), and Positive Education (Zero T Remix)... kind of. That last one's actually a d'n'b rub, which just wouldn't fit in a deep, tech-house, techno set such as this, so Slam uses a snippet of bass while bridging two versions of Stepback together. Which comes after that Lifetimes track no less, so that's technically four Slam tracks in a row. Not to mention opening with the Deepchord Atmospheric Rebuild of Groovelock, plus the Oxia Remix of Human a little later after. Slam sure love themselves some Slam tunes.

For the most part, their set starts from deep house groove before riding tech-house funk to a thumping techno peak, indulging a couple detours into minimalist-plod (oh God, why'd you use that mix of the lone Vector Lovers track?), with enough clever blends and layering for the ardent trainspotter to enjoy. I mean, you gotta' love how cheeky Slam is in using just a portion of Groovelock for intro purposes, when Deepchord's rub runs over thirteen minutes.

Silicone Soul takes on CD3, and oh boy, just look at all these mint Soma tunes! Daft Punk's Alive! Desert Storm's Scoraig 93! Rejuvination's Requiem! Alex Smoke's Chica Wappa! Chaser's Destination Unknown! Funk d'Void's Diabla (Heavenly Mix! (wait) Silicone Soul's Right On, Right On! (haven't we already...?) Slam's Positive Education! (now just hold here...!) Okay, so there's a lot of repeats from the Soma Classics CD. Mr. Soul does a few clever acapellas and overlays along the way, but I'm kinda' worn out on Positive Education now, thank you.

Also, if you aren't fussed about the DJ mixes, the digital options for 20 Years does include all the original, unmixed tracks for your enjoyment. I usually stump for the physical, but damn, even if you stick to streaming sources, that's a good deal. More than enough music there to get the whole Soma story, and then some.

Renaissance Man - The Renaissance Man Project

Turbo: 2011

I feel like I should know more about this duo than I actually do. For sure they were Resident Advisor Approved, this album earning a Best Of 2011 blessing, plus a podcast DJ mix feature – though honestly, everyone in the world of house, techno, tech-house, future garage, and pants gets one of those. When this album popped up in my search for more 2011 material though, I was surprised it came from Turbo. While I'm not as religious a follower of Tiga's Label That Could anymore, I'd like to think I still keep a finger to the pulse of what Mr.Sontag's promoting. Heck, Renaissance Man even appeared on that Brodinski Fabriclive mix (that one with the dude of sardine fingers), a total Turbo love-fest in spirit, if not in actual track selection.

On the other hand, it's not like Renaissance Man has done much else of significant note since coming out with The Renaissance Man Project. Comprised of Ville Haimala and Martti Kaliala, they first emerged with the sort of minimal/tech/fidget house that was all the hipster rage in the late-'00s, but truly broke out as something unique when they started approaching the craft with the ol' 'kitchen sink production' style. Meaning, no sample was off limits for their usage, the less conventional, the better. Even if it makes a track almost unlistenable, it don't matter so long there's some semblance of a tech-haus groove for the rooftop shufflers to sway against. This, of course, is the sort of sound that's utter catnip to discerning music journalist sorts, always on the look-out the most unorthodox music around to claim they were the first to rep it, should it take off in any culturally meaningful way. It made Herbert's Bodily Functions a critical darling, as has many such dalliances by tech-house producers (I recall even Vector Lovers got in on that action once).

I honestly thought The Renaissance Man Project was gonna' be a rather tedious example of this stuff. The first few tracks are all interesting in the myriad samples thrown in, with What Do You Do When You Do What You Do having a decent bump going for it, while Stalker Humanoid features a nifty little hook towards the end. Nonsensus gets grating in its ping-ponging with no direction though, while Damon Nabru has fun with firework samples, and that's about it.

Then Vancouver hits with a bunch of psychedelic ethnic sounds and tribal thump, and suddenly I feel like I'm in the middle of a latter-day Future Sound Of London album! Wow, this tune's wonderful, more like this please!

Sadly, Renaissance Man hits such a high but once again, at the end with anthemic S.O.S.. In between there's more minimalist, bloopy tech-house and goofball sample indulgences, all expertly produced but stuck in '00s-era plod mode. And how can I not mention the CD-bonus twenty-nine minute [Untitled] track featuring twenty-two minutes of silence. Makes me wonder if these guys gave a care for the album format at all.

Out Of The Box - Out Of The Box

Werkstatt Recordings: 2013

So Werkstatt Recordings was unexpectedly generous in the swag they included with an order of mine. While not Ultimae levels of extras (no incense sticks), receiving various stickers from several releases is a nice touch – satisfies a collector's itch I didn't even know I had. The Greece label also threw in a couple bonus CDrs inside a single slipcase, one of which lacking cover art. In fact, all it has is “Out Of The Box Promo” scrawled in felt pen. “Cool,” thinks I, “Werkstatt's sending me sneak peaks of upcoming releases. How nice of them.” Nope, that's not it at all.

Turns out this already had an official release, four years ago. I mean, obviously so, if there's artwork available. It's the same seven tracks as found on Bandcamp, and there was even a proper limited run of CDs done too - probably, like, twelve copies though, as Werkstatt's really skint with physical mediums. Since Out Of The Box is clearly well past its 'promo' window, why did I receive this? Did Werkstatt have it lying about the office, and threw it in just because? Did they feel I'd get a kick out of the music within, but would never have stumbled upon it on my own? Are they planning a re-release with limited tape copies? All very good questions that honestly don't need an answer. 'Tis all just rather odd, y'know.

And who is this Out Of The Box that Werkstatt felt compelled to include with an overseas order? One Liam White, turns out, though Lord Discogs states this his only release under the moniker. He's released a half-dozen more items as Sick Robot, both with Werkstatt and self-released, most of which falls under the EBM, electro, and retro-trance side of things. Far as I can tell, Out Of The Box was his shot at breaking free of those constraints. Why, you could say Liam's forcing his way through an enclosed space into an open beyond.

First track Common Ground doesn't stretch too far from his comfort zone, though it's definitely a rougher shade of techno compared to his usual fare. Fire In The Sky says nuts to all that, and goes full neurofunk, making this the second Werkstatt release I've covered in a row that's tread into drum 'n bass' domain (the... odds!). That's followed upon by Lost And Found, a slow tech-house groover that erupts with flashy synths midway. And seemingly going out of his way to prove he's a genre-jack of all trades, fourth cut Matter Of Time gets in on that retro-trance action I mentioned earlier (doesn't sound quite “Eighties” enough to be space-synth).

The final run of tunes sticks to electro and tech-house vibes, but it's clear Out Of The Box is intended as a big ol' showcase of Mr. White's eclectic muse. A bit too eclectic, if I'm honest, the genre-jumping rather scattershot in make a lasting impression. As something different from the Werkstatt norm, however, 'tis not bad at all.

Decimal - Lost In A Dark Place

Soma Quality Recordings: 2010

Dammit, I don't have enough 2010-2011 Music. It's not my fault I didn't get back into Music until 2012, it's Music's fault - not enough wicked-cool shit just dropping into my lap. Guess I gotta' dig for it, but who do I trust? What tastemakers could always be counted upon? Say, how about that Soma Quality Recordings outfit? They've had consistent quality for many years now – it's right in their name! More than that, they've curated plenty of dope acts over the years (Slam, The Black Dog, Daft Punk, DeepChord, Vector Lovers, Funk D'Void, Silicone Soul). Let's see what they have available in those years? An album from a guy called Decimal? Sure, I'll bite. The samples sound good enough – no apparent minimal bloopy-blorp and hissing wank detected.

Yes, this is the only reason I got David Spacek's debut album. I didn't know anything about him prior to purchase, but I apparently have one track by him, on M.A.N.D.Y.'s sterile contribution to the fabric series. His first Decimal singles came out in that period, releasing mostly through Berlin techno print Enemy Records. Somewhere along the way, he hooked up with Soma Quality, and was given the green light for an LP. And then his discography completely dries up, no follow-up album, no subsequent singles, not even a different project under a new alias (so sayeth Lord Discogs). Only a lone track on his Soundcloud has appeared since Lost In A Dark Place, uploaded but this past year. Geez, did something go totally pear-shaped over label deals? Got a better paying job elsewhere? Suddenly became a family man? Whatever the reason, 'tis a shame, as there's some pretty good tunes on here.

For sure he can't help but supply some tech-house and techno fodder for the clubs. Opener Temple March has most of the 'minimal era' trademarks, though is less obnoxious in their use than most singles went. Why, there's even a few funky broken-beat bridges littered about! Forgotten Requiem ups the tempo some with a far groovier rhythm, and even builds a looping hook throughout, accentuated with backing strings at the peaks. Holy cow, Decimal's doing progressive house! Or at least making tunes that Serious Prog DJs Who Play Serious Tech-House can make use of. It's certainly a sound Scuba would have noticed.

Other tracks make use of looping hooks, though more of a nod towards Detroit's style of melody (Soulchamber, Vastis Black Mask). Simulation is pure Detroit in it's own right, all future-funk and percolating synths without falling back on obvious rhythms. A couple more tracky tech-house tracks eat up some mid-album space (Tightly Wound, Ghost), but dig those downtempo dalliances in A Physical Sense Of Time (dubby electro) and The Lesson Of Hope, nearly eleven minutes of twee ambient techno. Dang!

With such diversity, how'd Lost In A Dark Place go so overlooked? Was Decimal's association with mid-'00s minimal that hard to shake off? Not 'forward thinking' enough for discerning techno heads? B'ah, their loss.

Various - Global Underground Nubreed: Steve Lawler

Boxed: 2000

The Nubreed series from Global Underground was set up as a sort of farm league for the main series. It's tough cracking that starting line-up, see, featuring such legendary talents as Sasha, John Digweed, Nick Warren, Dave Seaman, and Danny Tenaglia, and British clubland had plenty of hot, young prospects in the pipeline waiting for that call-up from the big leagues to rub shoulders with the f'n All-Stars. The series didn't last much past 2002, though sees occasional dusting off to promote another wave of generational talents, most recently this past month with a tenth volume featuring Oliver Schories. Wow, I don't know these kids at all.

Of the original Nubreeders, only Danny Howells made it to the big league roster, but Steve Lawler got himself a mini-series called Lights Out. Does that mean he was drafted into his own league? Man, this sports metaphor's stressed, but I can't help it – 'tis the season!

Heck, Lawler's own career fits the metaphor: starting out in real underground settings (street ballin', y'all), struggling in the literal 'beer leagues' (re: playing out at bars), then hitting a personal rock-bottom before lucky fate handed him a Cream residency. The year 2000 proved his big breakout, not only landing this Nubreed mix, but two more DJ mixes (Home on INCredible, Dark Drums on Tide), plus a gig for Essential Mix. Just goes to show you don't have to play for the LA Lakers or NY Yankees to have yourself a successful sportsrun. I'm reaching.

By this point in his career, Lawler had built a rep' as the UK's Danny Tenaglia, that dude who'll take you on a long, deep, dark journey through tribal house and dubby prog. This mix comes out when this sound was deemed official “new hotness” status, both Digweed and Tenaglia's recent offerings on Global Underground paving the way for a few years of relentless, unwavering sweaty thump of a groove. And hoo boy, is Steve ever on that sound, making this my third release in a row with a tribal theme going on. (The... odds...!)

Most prog mixes of the time kept the deep shit on CD1, serving as the warm-up for the energetic, peak-time rinse-outs of CD2. Long wary of jocks relying on anthems, Lawler says nuts to that, going with the deep shit for pretty much the duration of both discs. There are a few recognizable tunes – Tenaglia's Elements, Cevin Fisher's Love You Some More, Green Velvet's Answering Machine (“I don't need. This. Shit!”), but that's not the point of this set. Lawler's goal is to drag you into the club, with him in full swing at his personal peak hour, home listening practicality be damned. It makes his Nubreed offering rather samey throughout, and still comes off like an extended warm-up set before a superstar jock takes over the decks. If you're down for a DJ that can ride such a vibe for that long, you'll probably like this. Prefer a little spicy variety myself.

Vector Lovers - Capsule For One

Soma Quality Recordings: 2005

If I had spotted it in an A&B Sound, or an HMV, or even a (*snicker*) Best Buy, absolutely I'd have bought Capsule For One no matter the cost. Okay, reasonably so – such a CD selling for over thirty Canadian bones is too steep no matter how much I adore an artist. Seeing it at the 'regular price' of twenty-five on Amazon always put this on the back-burner though, longer, longer, longer, until it became a rarity on the standard market, price jacked to stupid amounts of money. Why it never occurred to scope out Soma Recordings own webshop, I can't explain. I just assumed they'd do business through Amazon like so many others, but nope, independent and remarkably affordable. I swear this isn't meant as a plug for Soma, just an overlong ramble-excuse on why I skipped out on Vector Lovers' sophomore album for so long. A very lame excuse, I cannot deny.

Now that I have taken in Capsule For One, enjoyed its various toy-box electro melodies, bobbled my head to its various tech-house grooves, skitter-skatterd my brain to its sporadic IDM beatcraft, and double-taked to actual sung lyrics in Melodies & Memory (not even by a robot! Maybe a kawii cyborg tho'), one question remains: would I have liked this when it was new?

Don't get me wrong – if nothing else, Capsule For One would have been a grower, an album that I'd come to appreciate even if it didn't blow my mind right out the gate. I can't understate the degree to which Vector Lovers' did though. An album that featured music and ideas I'd never heard before. Themes that appealed to both my casual enjoyment of sci-fi anime and lonely, lovelorn walks through big cities. Electro and house blended in ways I always imagined they should be, not as they currently were (dammit, 2005).

Capsule For One touches on these too, but not with the same poignancy as its predecessor, Martin Wheeler making room for braindance electro instead. Overall, it's a more aggressive album, getting on that hectic Detroit pace than the easy cruise of neo-Tokyo. When those minty spritely melodies crop up, it doesn't deter the propulsive momentum of tracks like Arrival, Metropolis, Substrata, Microton (that bassline!), Nostalgia 4 The Future, Boulevard and To The Stars. Even the chill moments seem uneasy with their surroundings, less nostalgic for times past and more apprehensive for the future we venture into.

Vector Lovers can still craft a tune that pulls the ol' heartstrings though, City Lights, Empty Building, Falling Rain, Melodies & Memory and Neon Sky Rain carrying similar tones and sounds as found on his debut. They come off a little lost among the tougher electro and techno, however, like characters intended for a different series. They're fine in providing chill downtime, necessary refuges in an ambivalent cityscape. I'm just missing that amazing album narrative from Vector Lovers, is all. Spoiled for choice as always.

ACE TRACKS: August 2017

So I don't know how many folks 'round these here parts follow festival news, but I imagine the whole 'Shambhala's Burning' thing had to reach a few eyes and ears of those who do. 'Tis true, for half my time up in that mountain valley, the surrounding air was quite hazy with smoke indeed. Heck, even the drive up there from the coast had us chasing The Eye Of Sauron for most of the trip, though I cannot deny seeing a blood-red moon rise over the hills was a trip in itself every night. Still, when the haze gets so thick that you can no longer see the valley walls, and little flakes of ash start falling like snow... yeah, small wonder a firm evacuation notice went out. On the Saturday, when I saw a half-dozen fire vehicles rushing down the highway across the river the festival takes place, followed by a porta-potty on a flatbed, that was when I realized shit had gotten real. Shambhala shutting down a day early was a bummer, but seemed the right thing to do regardless.

But as I volunteer there as well, I had to stay for the 'cancelled' day to complete my shift work (there's always work to be done!). Good thing too, because a light misty rain had settled in that Sunday morning, such that it by the literal 11th Hour, the call came out that the festival was back on, the fire hazard no longer an issue. Sweet deal, we get a 'bonus' night out of it all, and boy did I need that extra night to just let go, if you catch my drift. It didn't matter that none of the headliners I wanted to check out didn't make it (LTJ Bukem, REZZ, The Orb doing their set a night early without me knowing about it). Dancing in a midnight downpour never felt so vitalizing!

Okay, enough of that. Time for another ACE TRACKS playlist, in typical shorty-August edition.




MISSING ALBUMS:
Various - Welcome To The Technodrome Vol. 4
Etnoscope - Way Over Deadline

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 0%
Percentage Of Rock: 14%
Most “WTF?” Track: Can't deny the Genesis tracks really clash in this playlist.

I don't know what's funnier: that I have a lot of retro-future music from totally unrelated artists here, or that faux-live music from The KLF is followed by real-live music from Neil Young. The bookends flow surprisingly well, but the middle portion does get rather meefy in the transitions. Maybe I should get back to playlists that aren't alphabetical in order. You know, put more effort into these, make them a listening experience again rather than a seemingly random assortment who's structure is incidental to the music on hand. Mmm, nah, I savour the strange transitions.

Josh Wink - When A Banana Was Just A Banana (Original TC Review)

Nervous Records: 2009

(2017 Update:
Josh Wink still hasn't made another album since this one. Why hasn't Josh Wink made another album since this one? Did it sell poorly due to the odd, cartoony presentation? Does he still feel squirmish about making 'album orientated music', even at this late stage of his career? Is he simply satisfied kicking out a steady stream of yearly singles, his DJing carrying the muse's load? So many questions, ones that honestly don't require an answer, but it remains a strange state of affairs that for a career as long lasting as his, Mr. Wink has never needed regular LPs maintaining it.

As this review was written late in TranceCritic's run, it's definitely of much better quality than most. Even at a rather lengthier word count, it still pops along at a nice clip. I even worked in an obligatory aside-rant about 'anti-builds' (on non-climaxes), plus threw in a couple snarky quips I'd totally forgotten about. Gave me a good chortle, they done did.)


IN BRIEF: Bountiful bananas.

First: there is no Higher State on here. In fact, there probably never will be a track like that ever again, from Wink or anyone else. It was an once-in-a-lifetime moment when that seminal acid classic was dropped, so you may as well stop expecting Wink to repeat it. If that’s the only reason you’ve clicked this review - to find out if he’s made another Higher State - hit ‘Alt + Left-Arrow’ now.

Good. Those who’ve stayed put probably already know there’s more to Mr. Winkleman than one or two big hits from the 90s but it’s remarkable just how much a man can forever be tied to chart success, even nigh fifteen years on. Ol’ Josh hasn’t let it tie his career down though. His record label Ovum continues to chug along with quality releases, his DJing career continues to groove along with quality sets, and his productions continue to, um, be produced. Well, he manages to continue to release solid singles, but has never managed to quite break that LP barrier, with albums that never seem to quite capture the same thrill or success of his EPs or DJ mixes. Wink himself has admitted that perhaps the fault lies in his attempts to make AOM (album orientated music), something that doesn’t play to his strengths.

So, it’s just as well that he’s abandoned that aspect for his latest album. The concept of When A Banana… is straight-forward enough: round up a collection of current productions that’s been getting live rotation, arrange them into a kind of DJ mix, and send it out into the wild. Surprisingly (or not), it works brilliantly, with each of these tracks strutting their stuff in strong fashion.

It’s the first half of this album that shines most brightly, with a variety of groovy house vibes, techno bedlam, and tranced-out bliss. Opener Airplane Électronique warms you up as fine as any house tune, with a funky rhythm that’ll have you wiggling along and a bouncy hook that gets a bunch of fun tugs, tweaks and tumbles twisting it about. However, it’s with Counter Clock 319 that you realize just how special of a producer Wink still is. Like so many of his tracks, he works a slow build before introducing The Hook (it seems many of his tracks contain that one element which can only be described as The Hook), which will get a thorough working over as the track continues to build in rhythmic intensity. Then, those crashing hi-hats and snares erupt, creating the kind of awesome thrashing climax Wink has practically made his trademark. The peak in Counter Clock is far more satisfying than anything you might expect from trendy upstarts like Dullfire or Radio Snore, such that- Wait a moment. That was only the mid-track peak? Oh shit, hang on, here we go again!

Actually, since I did bring up the former Deep Dish man, let me point out another thing that Wink trumps him on: what to do after the mid-track peak. I know Dubfire wasn’t the first to do it, but his single Roadkill really popularized the Total F'n Reset, wherein after a thrilling build, the track will just reset with intro beats, making everything up to it utterly pointless. Wink has a tendency to bring the energy down as well, but instead of using the Total Reset, he eases you into a simmer, which is not only effective in keeping some sort of momentum going but also in teasing your anticipation for when he brings it all back. And speaking of which, let’s get back to these bananas.

After a bit of murky, mildly funky minimalism with What Used To Be…, Wink unleashes a pair of tracks that hit all the right melodic notes. Jus’ Right is pure Balaeric bliss, but it’s Dolphin Smack that comes off as the most delightful surprise - you would never have expected Wink to produce a track that would have fit nicely on an early-90s Harthouse compilation in this day in age. It’s quite spacey and, dare I say, even trancey.

From there, Wink gets back to your requisite minimal-tech, although considering he was among the earliest adopters of this stylistic trend, the cuts offered here sound comfortable and assured. Yeah, there’s your usual plink-plonk-hiss going on, but there’s also, like, actual funk in these tracks too - imagine that, eh? He’s going to drag your head out of your k-hole whether you like it or not, and coerce you to do more with your feet than a half-committed shuffle. Finishing off with the soulful Stay Out All Night is fair game too, even if it shares the same status as Johnny D’s Orbitalife of an inexplicably overplayed track throughout 2008 (that ‘funky soul’ thing must have seemed like such a novelty to the minimal-tech crowd, despite the likes of Miguel Migs having never gone away).

Of course, When A Banana… isn’t revolutionary or anything like that. We’ve been hearing many of Wink’s tricks on here for over a decade; it’s his strong judgment of rhythm that makes it all work though. Unlike so many other minimal-tech producers who make dull plod-step beats, Wink’s veteran sense of the dancefloor knows how to get the most mileage out of the least elements, and he’s accomplished this excellently with these tracks. Throw in attributes his contemporaries seem afraid of (funk! soul! …melody!), and you have one of the stronger albums of tech-house to come along this year. Not to mention in Wink’s discography as well.

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

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.

Seven Davis, Jr. - Universes

Ninja Tune: 2015

The man comes from Texas, currently makes his home in California, released his first single on a print from Atlanta, and is apparently rather popular in Europe. And yet, when I hear Seven Davis Jr., I can’t help but think Detroit. Part of that is undoubtedly the fact his debut single, One, was something of a hit in the Motor City. No surprise there, the tune featuring a bumpin’ groove while oozing all sorts of soul throughout. The other tracks from there, Breaker and All Kinds, follow suite, getting tougher in their tech-house groove without ever losing their funk. It’s the sort of sound that’d have Moodymann boppin’ his head, and few things scream ‘Detroit soul-house’ like Kenny Dixon Jr. Secondly, Mr. Davis has his eyes on future-funk, showing little fear in letting some sci-fi soul into his works – even his adopted pseudonym comes off a tad geeky (numbers are, like, math an’ shit, yo’).

Having such a hit with his first at-bat attempt may seem like a wonderkid at work, but Seven Davis Jr. had been toiling away in the underground for a while before releasing One. With a background in gospel, he could have had a record deal much earlier, but instead decided biding his time was the smarter move, honing his craft ghostwriting for other musicians, making sure he was at the peak of his potential when he finally went solo. The success of One and follow-up P.A.R.T.Y. proved his planning fruitful, and in quick order, Seven Davis Jr. had plenty of momentum building to a full-length album. Always eagerly reaching into the trendy urban underground, Ninja Tune backed his ventures into the domain of debut LPs, Universes the result. Gotta’ keep that futurism theme goin’.

He doesn’t waste time in letting you know you’re in for a woozy ride either, opener Imagination a brief, simmering slice of druggy soul. A short skit of a starship computer awakening Seven from cryosleep for a gig (my interpretation), and we’re off on the shimmering ride of bright synths, peppy rhythms, and chipper techno of Freedom – Detroit future-funland funk lives! In fact, Universes is an incredibly ‘happy’ album throughout, tracks like Good Vibes, Sunday Morning, Be A Man, and No Worries rather light in mood compared to his early singles. Heck, Everybody Too Cool is practically taking the piss out of the ‘techno-funk are serious musics’ scene, all the while gleefully indulging in his Prince influences. And I swear that beat is sampled from the opening drums from Mississippi Queen!

Mr. Davis Jr. does offer us a few glimpses of his thoughtful side, getting deeper into the neo-soul with Fighters and Welcome Back. And if you were craving more of the tough, deep house tunes, Sunday Morning does come correct there. A bonus CD also includes more instrumental pieces exploring the fringes of future-funk, Dimensions almost coming off like a long-lost Amon Tobin cut with its liberal use of the Amen Break. Ah, that’s why Ninja Tune tapped him!

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