Speedy J - Pepper / Beam Me Up!

Warp Records: 1994/2021

Time to get hep to the step, when J' drops that Hot Mix of Pep! ...per. Um, represent? Okay, that was lame, Dr. Evil lame, but you gotta' give me some kudos for admitting as such, right? Not every one of these intro paragraphs will be a winner, and when you're dealing with the same artist in multiple reviews in short order, the brain, she sometimes fails at the wit. Besides, what would this blog be without the occasional bout of lame-itude?

Pepper was one of the trancey tunes off of Speedy J's debut album Ginger, possibly the tranciest track he ever made. With soaring strings, spaced-out voice pads, and a steady, chugging rhythm, it's small wonder it became a staple of the progressive house scene. It does leave a tantalizing bit of 'what if?' on his discography, if Jochem had decided to pursue this line of music making rather than exploring other facets of techno proper. Instead, it's more a reflection of the period from whence it was made, Europeans cross-pollinating techno and trance with nary a care or worry of what the Detroit Elite thought.

Still, he must have realized this tune was getting a lot of extra attention, giving it a little single love so the DJs didn't have to lug around all that Ginger wax just to play it. And just in case the original was a tad too 'deep' with all those spacey lead-ins and breakdowns, The Hot Mix ups the rhythmic energy with prog-house beats and twitchy, bouncy synth leads. Okay, so less trance than the album version, but I'm sure Sasha and Diggers appreciated this one's dancefloor utility.

That Pepper would get the single treatment isn't surprising, but of all the tracks to pair it up with, why did Beam Me Up! get the nod? The original's fine, I guess, a juanty little easy groover with twinkly synths and stuttery voices, but hardly a top choice for the clubs. This here Pegasus Mix on the single ups the house attributes, even edging close to the realm of garage with a rhythm that's almost shuffly. It's over before it even really begins though, running a svelte three-and-a-half minutes. Barely seems worth the effort having it on a record like this.

Jochem must have known this Pepper / Beam Me Up single was quite skint, so for the CD option, he included a near-sixteen minute excerpt of a live performance that includes the tracks Ginger, Pepper and Flashback (the other 'trancey' song off the album). And hot damn, is this ever a dope excerpt! If ever you needed proof positive Speedy J knew his way around a techno groove and a 303 acid twiddle, you got it right here. Only downside to Live '94 is it fades out just as you're really warmed up to it, wanting the set to go the full length of a CD. Hmm, Jochem should do that, down the line, and call it something simple yet silly, like !ive. Genius!

Speedy J - Patterns (Remix) / Pannik

Plus 8 Records: 1997/2021

Fair warning, we're gonna' be dealing with a lot of Speedy J within this upcoming block of 'P' titled releases. Mr. Paap really likes him some 'P', it seems. You'd think it would be 'G', what with his first two albums titled Ginger, and G Spot, but when it comes to singles (and one album), 'P' reigns supreme. Why are you all sniggering? You'll see what I mean by this love of 'P'!

Patters was one of the few – okay, only – singles to emerge from Speedy's third album, Public Energy No. 1 (see!?). There also was a promo record with some tracks, including Pure Energy, but as for official spin-offs, this was about it. Not that it's a surprising thing, Jochem seemingly hesitant to tie singles to albums most of the time. Ginger only got one, as did G Spot. And though Loudboxer had a couple, it made sense there since that album's nothing but techno tools in need of vinyl options.

Speaking of Loudboxer-era Speedy J, does this record ever foretell that turn of style for Jochem. Yes, even more than the other ones I've probably said. Patterns itself is a remix, seemingly a bridge between the more melodic IDM he was doing before, and the abrasive stuff he'd indulge more frequently as the '90s wore on. Calm, tranquil, sometimes distorting drone pads give us a lengthy lead-in before Mr. J' starts unleashing all manner of crunchy, boshing, frantic drill-n-bass rhythms, letting you know this ain't no Fill session. There's a storm a' brewing, folks, and as if to sell that notion just a little harder, here's some climatic orchestral string sections building the tension to a damn near fever-pitch. The final release of sonic noise is worth the wait, but doesn't last as long as you'd hope, over almost as soon as it began. Dammit, I wanted to really get my flail on there.

Ask, and you shall receive. Except I didn't ask, but that Speedy, he knows what we need, don't he. Pannik is a pure Detroit mininalist techno bosh cut, and lasts ten minutes! Okay, maybe not the longest track of such nature, but certainly an epic in Jochem's discography to that point, much of his early techno was straight-forward and of unfussy lengths. Not this one, taking you for a head-pounding, foot stomping ride with all the crashing snares and cymbals you can handle from the dude who did The Oil Zone. He'd already been dashing some expectations after the Ni Go Snix EP, but I doubt anyone would have expected him to go this dumb with techno again. Yeah, it's a 'smart dumb' kind of dance music compared to some of his actual early 'dumb' hits, but still.

Punnik, meanwhile, goes longer, cranking the feral energy up even further. Rhythms are broken, with distorted sounds and reverb making this sound like it was produced in an oppressive Detroit factory. The primal techno beatings will continue until morale improves.

FSOL - Music From Calendars

fsoldigital.com: 2021

So, you think you're a hardcore Future Sound Of London fan? Got all their classic '90s albums, do ya'? Pft, that's not even scratching the surface. Side project stuff then, like Amorphous Androgynous, Humanoid, and all those early Earthbeat records. Not even close to a completist. Ah, you kept connected with all their 21st Century albums then, the Environments series, more AA prog-rock, even that Blackhill Transmitter thing. No, wait, the entirety of From The Archives too! That's pretty hardcore, no doubt, but still not propah' FSOL 'ardcore. Well shit, son-of-lung, what else is there? The soundtracks for films that no one saw (Four Forests) or don't exist (The Cartel)? Getting warmer...

If you consider yourself a true, bells-and-all hardcore FSOL fan, you've subscribed to their Calendar series. Once a month, the lads send a new tune, usually as their main nomme de plume, but under different aliases as well. It's a series that's been ongoing for half a decade now, and a handy way of keeping up to speed on the goings-on at EBv.

Obviously, I'm not that hardcore of a FSOL fan, since I never subscribed to this series. Nor did I much care to indulge the yearly summation compilations either. Look, when I can't even be bothered to get any of the Archives material, you're damned skippy I haven't the care to hear whatever random sonic studio doodles Brain and Garry squirt out a given month. Now, a gathering of all the choice material from a four year time-span, that's the ticket!

If you have been keeping up with your recent FSOL output, much of Music From Calendars 2017-2020 will be familiar territory. The weird, psychedelic abstraction (Frozen Air, Blacked Out Windows, Memories Of A Yesterday), the future-shock electro (Near Field, Obscured By Dark Intervals), the primordial chill (Artificial Placement Of Emotion, Commensalism, Riverbeds), the... throwback Earthbeat techno? Oh, wow, Alertions certainly is a surprise. Guess they made this just to show if they wanted to make something danceable, they're still more than capable of.

It's not a total FSOL love-in, a couple side-projects getting a side-glance in. Second track Surrounding The Garden Is A Fog comes from Synthi A, a deliberate throw-back to the days of '70s synth wizards. It's one of their more recent projects, conceiving only one album in 2016, plus a couple Calendars tracks. That this piece was considered among their best recent works is, not that surprising, to be honest. For '70s synth wibbly-warbly stuff (think Tomita or Schulze), it's rather nice. The other 'non-FSOL, but is still FSOL' track is Propogate from Humanoid. It definitely shows off Brian's love affair with the more techno-y side of IDM, but seems more fascinated with experimentation for its own sake.

Overall, Music From Calendars runs a tidy fifty minutes, and flows nicely from beginning to end. It still doesn't come off much more than a glorified sampler of FSOL music, but then we've been enjoying those since ISDN, haven't we?

Chris Liebing & Speedy J - Metalism

NovaMute: 2005/2021

Post Loudboxer Speedy J is mostly new territory for me, but it's not like I don't know what I'm in for. Being in the throes of European tastes, Mr. Paap didn't have much choice falling in with either 'shranzy' or 'minimal' stylings. Not wanting to go it alone though, the mid-'00s kicked off his Collabs Period, a string of singles pairing up with many movers and shakers of the more pummelling side of the genre.

These being vinyl, I naturally never got any of them, and since none of them were consolidated into any sort of CD compilation, the series passed me by. Fool on me though, because there was a single, lone compact disc option released from this exercise, a full-length album between Mr. J and one Chris Liebing called Collabs3000, sub-titled Metalism. Which is what it's formally known as now on Speedy's Bandcamp page. Like, I probably would have nabbed this had I ever spotted it a shop when it came out, but actual music shop options for techno CDs were a quickly dwindling enterprise in jolly ol' Vancouver in 2005. Gotta' settle for Joel Mull's The Observer instead.

I don't want to burn too much word count going over Mr. Liebing here, as this wasn't their only collab' in these Collabs sessions, but just in case you need a quick refresher/overview... You know that distinctly hard, loopy, bangin' brand of techno that emerged at the start of this century? Chris was one of the forefront promoters of this sound, rinsing out on the regular in German clubs, even getting the nod as one of that country's top DJs. That Jochem would fall in with him after Loudboxer was probably inevitable.

After a requisite ambient-noise intro (three minutes worth!), Metalism kicks off with Modish Ride, and... woof, did this ever worry me something. I know Liebing and J were going for something a little more experimental here, but not right out the gate, and certainly not with a rhythm that feels like it's tripping over itself. Follow-ups Triflon and Hilt triggered me further, clear bandwagon jumps on the growing minimal trend with all manner of annoying clicky, glitchy, white-noisey nonsense and a plodding tech-house groove. Fortunately, the lads say nuts to all that right after, giving us a run of relentless techno bosh. Tunox gives us the furious octane, Acid Trezcore unleashes the 303, and Cream 3 slows things down again, but pummels you with a noisy assault of a build.

Come to think of it, Misters Liebing and Paap sure do love themselves some noise. Eventide is technically an ambient piece, but it sure is a noisy one. Lava is pure Loudboxer action, and just as noisy while doing so, while closer Assault is twelve minutes of minimal dub. Okay, not so noisy, that one. Don't worry though, Metalism throws in a bonus, noisy live performance of Tricko, with all the crowd noise you can handle. Eh, I liked this idea better mid-album as Krikc.

John Shima - The Lonely Machine

FireScope: 2019

It's been a spell since I last talked up John Shima. Part of that is due to the man's own output, mostly sticking to vinyl releases these last few years, and about half a dozen of them at that. Not to mention drifting from label to label in doing so, making it such that only the most hardcore of Shima fans could follow.

Which I can't claim being, but as a follower of the FireScope family, I certainly kept my eye on him for any future releases on the print. Sadly, that's been skint as well, an EP, a collaboration with label-head Steve Rutter, and an LP the extent of his works thus far. And that LP, this here The Lonely Machine, was released over three years ago. All these factors combined (plus, erm, my own tardiness in picking this up), and yes, it's definitely been a spell since John Shima last appeared here.

What's funny – at least to me – is with my grabbing of The Lonely Machine, I'm now completely up-to-date on FireScope album releases. At least, those produced by artists other than Mr. Rutter. Granted, the label's roster isn't robust, and their focus on EPs doesn't exactly offer a wide range of LPs to gorge upon. Surely someone else is waiting in the wings for their crack at it though? Bauri's been around for a while, how about him? Or a Kirk Degirogio joint would be interesting. Steevio, mayhaps?

Anyhow, this is another darn fine collection of Detroit-leaning, retro-future techno performed in that vintage FireScope way. Like, I've been covering FireScope for a while now, so folks should have some inkling of what the label's in-house style entails. Gotta' get in those nitty-gritty details though, just so y'all know what differentiates Mr. Shima from the other acts on this label.

Well, if Derek Carr is the more Detroit purist, or Morphology goes more electro, then John is definitely on the chill side of techno. Not outright ambient or anything, but opener Intel certainly has a light, airy feeling with spritely melodies as lean synths glide along laid-back broken beats. Follow-up Airwaves goes even deeper on the 'inner reflection' vibes, with tracks like Migrate and the titular closer not far behind. Some tunes do up the pace to something more dancefloor friendly, Distrust and Linear even getting in a little acid action, though we're still quite far from peak-time techno here. Throw in a couple slightly experimental tracks (Electronic Slaves on the electro side, Accepting on the ambient side), add a loose theme of a future-shock civilization on the verge of revolt, and you have a tidy ten tracker from John Shima.

And then there's Empires! Okay, the sweeping grand synths already made this tune tops in my books, but there's something about those backing, bouncing sounds. The ones that clank and hum in a fashion that has certain nostalgia triggers flaring. Less Detroit techno, more UK. Is that... an Orbital influence I'm hearing?

Speedy J - Krekc

NovaMute: 2001/2021

Aww yeah, finally returning to Loudboxer-era Speedy J. Enough with the early forays into Detroit techno, or the critically heralded indulgences into 'intelligent dance', let's get back to the years when Mr. Paap stopped giving a fuck and simply ripped shit up. On the dancefloor, I mean. And what better track to get us back to the relentless bangin' techno than the single that not only led into Loudboxer, but kicked off the album's pummelling second half, Krekc.

What else needs to be said about it? It's straight-forward bass kicks and rumbling bassline for a solid ninety seconds, hi-hats, snares, and other assorted percussion building in layers, occasionally ebbing so other propulsive noises squall in the background. It's positively unyielding, letting the energy climax out with barely a sputter at the end for the quick mix-out. It's a track intended for 4am techno, played at the peak of a set. No, seriously, even in the year 2001, there weren't many tunes that went as hard as this one did. Or at least, not released by as Very Important person in the world of techno as Speedy J was at the time.

I do still wonder how folks took this turn of events. I first heard Loudboxer when it was new, and it was certainly something of a shock, having only been familiar with Jochem's G-Spot era of music making. I missed out on the two albums between, to say nothing of any singles floating about, but even stuff like Electric Deluxe couldn't have prepared folks for just how hard Krekc would go. Like many genres out in clubland though, bangin' techno was seeing something of an arms race in the early '00s, where the need to go bigger and bolder was necessary to remain king of the heap. Then everyone got old, knees weary, ketamine the preferred drug of choice, and we all know what happened to techno after that.

Anyhow, another track on this single that appeared on Loudboxer is Krikc, if only partially. This was the tune that was featured as a live snippet, and quite frankly cemented the album as the propah' warehouse experience it was being sold as. Nothing like a little crowd whooping and cheering to sell that 'in the moment' vibe, amirite? This track is even more bonkers than Krekc, basically all looping percussion and flange effects, with heavy emphasis on those mid-range snares as the bass drum thrums along. By comparison, third track Krakc is almost quaint, much slower in tempo, and rather deliberate in how it progresses in layering it's various loops. Even if it's at a pace more typical of traditional minimal techno, there's still plenty of crunchy sounds and flange effects in making this a worthy companion piece to the high-octane Krekc and Krikc.

So there you have it: Krekc, Krikc, Krakc, three tunes of- Wait a moment... are the titles of these tracks a Dutch play on Rice Krispies onomatopoeia...?

Speedy J - Intercontinental

Plus 8 Records: 1990/2021

The first ever Speedy J release, and boy does it show. Actually, that's unfair, some of the tunes on this four track EP already offering glimmers and hints of where Mr. Paap's career would lead. This being a 1990 record though, there are certain, inescapable sonic markers that have a young producer still playing by the rules as laid out by his contemporaries, whether they be British or Detroitish.

What's weird for me is to even think there being a 'ground zero' for Speedy J records in the first place. Like, obviously he had to start somewhere, but as I only became aware of him during his G-Spot era, his earlier stuff seemed but a mystery. Even when I finally 'caught up' to his debut album Ginger, it didn't feel like I was getting the whole Phase 1 Speedy J story. And sure enough, there were even older records than his Artificial Intelligence era, breaking out with the techno freshmen making their mark on a fledgling Plus 8 Records. Yet still, my brain is convinced there must be something even older than Intercontinental. Some unreleased demo tapes, maybe, or a secret, shameful alias of generic freestyle funk Jochem refuses to acknowledge. There has to be something out there!

The Intercontinental EP – indeed, Speedy J's entire career! - kicks off with Wicked Saw. And yep, that synth line sure sounds like a saw, about as jagged as those sound waves could get in ye' olde year nineteen ninety-aught. Despite some more ominous segments, I can't help but draw comparisons to Adamski's N-R-G, released late the previous year. Yeah, that track is a bit silly and free-flowing, about as you'd expect of UK acid house, whereas Speedy J's Wicked Saw plays things mostly straight and ravey. Just something about those rhythms and funky fills tethers it to Adamski in my mind. Like I said, sonic markers and such. Minimal is minimal techno before minimal techno was really a thing, so here it just sounds like monotonous techno. Or tool techno, if you're being generous. Pass.

Now Journey, that's a Detroit space jam if I ever heard one. Those stuttery synths though, there's something almost... trancey about them. Never mind, here comes some classsy organ licks, breakbeat fills, and bleepy goodness. Why, this tune could even have appeared on early Warp Records, if it wasn't already on a Detroit label. Final track Spectrum gets deeper into bleep territory, and almost, dare I say, “intelligent” take on techno.

So a promising start to a youngling J. He definitely had an early ear for dancefloor effectiveness but some care and thought put into arrangements too. Considering this was still an era when few had many sounds at their disposal, the Speedy one shows how much could be done even with the standard tools of the techno trade. It'd still be a couple years before Jochem would truly stretch though, instead a brief flirtation into ravey anthems just around the corner.

Speedy J - Ieee Mitten Menu

NovaMute: 1999/2021

Well, isn't this a funny looking little record from Speedy J. While he's never been completely shy from cheeky presentation (hello, scrambled cable porn G Spot), he's certainly not known for going so cartoony. Even the title of this single is silly, supposedly a Dutch play on words akin to English's Eeny Meeny Miny Moe (how the rest of that rhyme goes is entirely dependant upon where and when you grew up). I'm not sure what prompted the release of such a record on Jochem's part. It wasn't tied to any particular album, nor did he debut on NovaMute with it. Maybe Mr. Paap simply made this because *gasp* he just felt like it, as a lark? What sort of artistic indulgence is this!

The Nutt Mix (hehe, heh... 'nutt') is about what you'd expect from Speedy J in this time frame, an uncompromising techno-breaks outing with distortion aplenty. Even the robot voices are distorted! I'm not sure what that voice is saying, though online sources tell me it's more nursery rhyme silliness. Additional elements come and go, like spacey synth pads, swooshing effects, warbly sine waves, while the rhythms shift into higher gear near the peak of the track. Nothing fancy, just a functional slice of aggro techno for the (then) modern era. You'll be hearing this phrase from me a lot about Speedy J records in the future.

The Mint Mix opens with a vocal which I assume is the title (or portions of the rhyme) getting all chopped up. That voice though, I can't help but feel like I've heard it before. It almost sounds like that “something for your mind” lady, and now my brain has made a connection to Speedy J's breakout single of the same name that almost certainly doesn't exist in reality. No, really, how funny would it be if Mr. Paap used Ieee Mitten Menu as an exercise in exorcising demons from his past. Yeah, it was a big break for him, but boy was Jochem ever quick in distancing himself away from that brand of techno too.

Anyhow, Mint Mix seems mostly conventional and pared down from the Nutt Mix, a rather funky breakbeat carrying things along as the familiar Ieee Mitten Menu elements come and go. Towards the end though, things go ultra-distorted in a noisy freak-out of aggro beats. Pretty cool, and segues nicely for a coda of lingering, creepy after effects.

B-side Fart Essen (hehe, heh... 'essen') is a straight-up, no nonsense piece of faceless techno business, relentless bosh for the 4am warehouse crowd. Kinda' cool as a precursor of where Speedy J would eventually end up, but not much else to say about it. I do wonder what folks thought of it at the time though. Like, were any of his followers still hoping for a return to his G Spot material? Oh sweet summer children, if you felt Ieee Mitten Menu was off the plot, you hadn't heard anything yet.

Morphology - Horta Proxima

FireScope: 2020

Not to say Morphology isn't a suitable fit for FireScope, but man, did their debut on the label ever come off as an odd man out. I'm not even talking musically, their melodic songcraft nicely rubbing shoulders on the print that B12 built. Still, the duo's electro purism couldn't help but clash a little with the more IDM-leaning techno of the surrounding roster. Beyond that though, I'm talking about the utterly drab, beige cover-art of Traveller. FireScope has, if nothing else, offered quite the selection of fantastical sci-fi aesthetics, eye grabbing artwork that one can easily get lost in as the retro-future rhythms emanate from nearby speakers. All except for Morphology's album, nothing more than a barren, empty crawlspace in an unremarkable space-station. It's certainly a choice, and may even suite the electro vibe Matti and Michael cultivate, but does little in standing out on a label like FireScope.

So I'm glad that, if nothing else, we've got something a little more colourful for Morphology's follow-up on FireScope, Horta Proxima. At first glance, it's still a stark, almost barren bit of scenery, but at least we have some nice contrast in the darks and oranges. Looking deeper though, and you discover there's all sorts of odd, mysterious artifacts in this landscape. Is that some sort of ruin? A living creature? A bio-mechanical monstrosity? So many possibilities, though I'm certain ninety percent of you have already thought of that one episode of classic Star Trek.

In any event, Horta Proxima is indeed the latest album from Morphology, which means is yet another of those quirky items on FireScope where an LP is split between two CDs of EP length. Yeah, yeah, it's meant to replicate the vinyl experience of having an album on two separate discs, which was a bit novel when Morphology broke that barrier with Traveller. Now that Steven Rutter, John Shima, and Derek Carr have also gotten in on that however, it doesn't feel quite so novel. Whatever, you do you, FireScope.

(*DE-DAE-DE DUN-DUUNN* BREAKING NEWS!!
As I was writing this, FireScope announced a Mophology box-set ...kinda'. Two separate albums titled Twelve, out on four CDs or records, with cover-art that's... very techno traditionalist. So much for falling lock-step with rest of the label)

Whichever disc of Horta Proxima you throw on first, they play out in similar fashion. The first couple tracks feature the most 'FireScope'-y of the tracks, closer to the domain of melodic IDM and sci-fi techno, followed by an assault of bumpin' electro, closing off with something on the downbeat. Or the whole thing plays out in two halves, if you go the digital route. When Morphology let the melodies carry, they fit right at home with FireScope, but whenever the robots start gettin' down, they remain odd cybermen out. Throughout it all though, their mint, angular beatcraft and thick bass tones resolutely keep the propah' electro fires burning bright. Preferably glimmering across chrome-painted star cruisers.

Various - Fabric 69: Sandwell District

Fabric: 2013

I've feigned surprise over some of the Fabric CDs that ended up on the used market, but I cannot deny legitimate shock at this one. I'll grant recollection's a bit hazy nearly a decade on, but wasn't Sandwell District's contribution to the series hailed as one of the 'crowning achievements' or something? For sure I remember a lot of hype and promo surrounding it because, goddamn, how are you gonna' forget cover art looking like this? Almost as striking as that one with the octopus on a dude's head. More than that though, most of the major 'zines covered fabric 69, so how could one not just assume Sandwell District was a Very Important conglomerate in the world of techno?

Actually, I'm not sure how accurate that is. Yeah, the label developed a feverish cult following throughout the '00s, but you can say that about any ol' techno label. The main players within the group – Karl O'Connor, Peter Sutton, David Sumner, and Juan Mendez – had all been involved in '90s minimalist techno one way or another (aliases Regis and Function the most famous of the lot). They certainly cultivated a particular sound on their label, keeping the classic, cavernous minimal style alive while other scenes became obsessed with Ableton micro-edits and white noise wank. Then, as Ostgut Ton overtook everything, Sandwell District looked primed to join them as brothers-in-arms. Except they disbanded soon after, everyone going their separate ways, some retreating from the spotlight altogether. And hoo, what a more perfect way to crystallize that cult status than that, eh?

Maybe that's why I've seen mostly lukewarm responses to fabric 69. Fans of Sandwell District wanted an exclamation mark on their legacy, a triumphant modus operani that solidified everything they held noble and true about the group. What they got instead was an interesting minimal techno mix that's more about audio space and head journeys than anything worth rinsing out at 4am on a Sunday morning. At least, that's what I assume fans of Sandwell District wanted.

But enough of that. What's important here is what I think of fabric 69. Me, someone who really only knows of the Sandwell District legacy in passing mention. It's a'ight, I guess. I can't be certain this was the case, but it sounds like each member got to have their own little mini-set within the greater whole. Things tend to reach a narrative mini-conclusion a few times as the CD plays, resetting shortly after for a slightly different techno build while retaining a stylistic Sandwell vibe throughout.

Some tracks like Mary Velo's Detune, Carl Craig's Darkness, and Untold's Motion The Dance work as centrepieces while bits and pieces of others (too many to list) are used as the mixing glue linking everything together. It honestly took me a couple listens for this one to sink in, so I can understand how fabric 69 may have been initially off-putting for some. Even such that they'd be willing to offload it for a fiver.

Various - Fabric 58: Craig Richards Presents The Nothing Special

Fabric: 2011

This is a strange edition. Oh, not the music within, most of it serviceable deep techno and tech-house as you'd expect from a resident of the Fabric nightclub. It's not even odd, if a little self-serving, that Craig Richards would have multiple sets in the fabric series. He kicked things off with Fabric 01, and naturally concluded it with Terry Francis and Keith Reilly in the triple-disc Fabric 100. Relatively early in fabric's lifespan, he used his Tyrant alias to do a double-disc set for Fabric 15. I don't think there was another 2CD edition of fabric or FabricLive after (centennial volume notwithstanding), so clearly a format the Fabric faithful weren't keen on. How nice of Mr. Richards taking that fumble with Tyrant.

Still, an artist using different aliases for different Fabrics wasn't unheard of. Heck, using a Fabric set as a promotional springboard for another project was almost expected, especially if someone had an album, label, or club night to launch. Such seems to be the case with Fabric 58, The Nothing Special a label that Craig Richards was set to premiere later that year. Or was it something else, and simply became a label? I'm not entirely sure, finding little info about this CD a decade on. Something about Craig wanting to create a specific night at Fabric where he'd have to DJ around live acts, but I hear little in this set that reflects such a purpose, Fabric 58 going as it means to go on in the hands of Mr. Richards.

All this, yet that's still not what boggles my mind about Fabric 58. No, what truly astounds me about this CD is how it disrupts the then-current cover art theme! Fabric always featured a trilogy of unique art that never had much of anything to do with the DJ involved. Sometimes you lucked out with cool silhouette urban art or abstract drawings, other times you'd be saddled with the guy with an octopus on his head. At this point in fabric's timeline (volumes 57 to 60) , it was people in striking-coloured bodysuits being assaulted by similarly coloured technology. Hey, such bodysuits were trendy back then, and if nothing else, one of the more memorable runs of cover art in fabric's history. But right smack in the middle of it, interrupting the sequence and triggering all sorts of OCD, comes Craig Richards' stark black 58. What, does he think he runs Fabric or something?

Okay, okay. The mix. Like I said, it's basically a deep tech-house outing, with a slant towards Detroitism. He throws in a liberal amount of '90s tunes from the likes of Two Lone Swordsmen, G-Man, Eco Tourist, Joel Mull, and Johnny Fiasco, and unsurprisingly are more interesting than the upfront material. I find Craig takes a bit too long to warm things up, nor does it shift any higher than mid-gear, but compared to the occasional dry sterility of fabric's previous half-decade, this one nicely bumps once it gets going.

Grid - Evolver

Deconstruction: 1994

What exactly is The Grid's legacy? For those in the UK who “where there” during their early '90s heyday, I see a fair amount of rosy-eyed comments and plaudits. Fair enough, the duo of David Ball and Richard Norris certainly finding a niche of their own within the British acid house scene, the single Floatation even contributing to a growing interest in Balearic-leaning 'ambient house'. On this side of the pond, however, we knew little of that, our first exposure of The Grid coming by way of their global chart-topping spaghetti-western singles Swamp Thing and Texas Cowboy. While I'm sure there were such tunes before, their massive success set off a nuclear bomb of novelty tracks of similar ilk: Cotton Eye Joe, Pipe Dreamz, Harmonica Man... Canadian DJ Chris Sheppard was especially enamoured with the stuff, even going so far as to tap Canadian fiddler Ashley MacIsaac for his own country ho-down dance tune. It seemed like we were inundated with the stuff.

Long story short, Teenage Sykonee didn't give The Grid any serious consideration because of those two singles, and the cover art of the album from whence they came didn't do it any favours either. Never mind some of my peers proclaimed that Evolver was “good, actually”, my first impressions stood firm. Then John Digweed included Floatation on his Choices collection, which made me reassess my initial assumptions. Always those nagging reassurances that Evolver was “good, actually”. Well, okay then, should I spot it as part of a cheap deal, I'll take a dive.

And yes, this album is surprisingly good, actually. Maybe not mind-bending stuff, but for an LP that holds Swamp Thing and Texas Cowboy on it, better than you'd expect. The only other track that treads into their territory is Throb, where The Grid try to replicate the country novelty shtick with thrashy guitar licks. Frankly, I find Throb even worse than the other two. Wait, am I faint-praising Swamp Thing and Texas Cowboy? Okay, fine, I am. There are parts of those songs I kinda' enjoy, like the building techno groove between the hokey banjo and faux-harmonica hooks.

Anyhow, the rest. Is it just me, or does Evolver edge ever so close to goa trance? Like, obviously nowhere near what Eat Static and Juno Reactor were up to at the time, but opener Wake Up has spaced-out synths, cosmic ethnic chants, and squirrelly acid leads. Y'know, the sort of sounds associated with Megadog parties. Shapes Of Sleep gets on something a little more sci-fi in its sampling, while Higher Peaks could have been a System 7 tune, if Steve Hillage was on that guitar instead. Rise and Spin Cycle slow things down to more of a prog-house tempo, but are no less filled with the trippy, tribal overtones, while closer Golden Dawn is basically where world beat and psy-dub meet in the distant past. All this, on the same record as the freakin' banjo song? Just who are The Grid, anyway?

Speedy J - Evolution

Plus 8 Records: 1991/2021

Alright, the first propah' Speedy J record from my massive Bandcamp bundle, and one of his earliest ones at that. In fact, ask some discerning Speedy J fans, and they'll tell you this is the first propah' Speedy J record period. Yeah, he had a couple items out prior, but that was old techno, still playing by old standards and following old tropes from two or three months in the past. And would still be heard in Euro techno for many years after, come to think of it. Not 'propah' techno, as disciples of Detroit would have it, in any event.

While I'm sure there were many factors influencing Jochem Paap's musical development, signing to Plus 8 Records had to be high among them. Rubbing shoulders with the likes of Richie Hawtin, John Acquaviva, Kenny Larkin, and Daniel Bell undoubtedly showed the Dutchman there was a fresher way of doing techno than what his countrymen were churning out. A better way. A Detroit way. Maybe even a 'warped' way, down the line. No, his sound had to evolve from obvious bangers like Something For Your Mind, so here's the Evolution E.P., with a lead track of Evolution.

And right from the jump, you can hear that Hawtin influence, the track's rhythm steady and deliberate. Slower too, compared to earlier Speedy J tracks, which were generally quite, um, speedy. A piercing little synth lead carries through the track, while various rave riffs and tension-building pads come and go. And through it all, that rhythm keeps marching along, snares crashing out as we get to the climax of the track. Yet that peak doesn't overstay its welcome either, giving us just enough of a tease to want more, which would likely be whatever weapon the DJ has lined up to follow.

If the Detroit overtures weren't already apparent enough, here's Destroit, a more straight-forward banger of a track with a janky lead that occasionally squelches and squeals. Apparently Hawtin did some additional tinkering to the track, though it's not clear what. Those sporadic rewinds? The choppy interruptions? There's a little synth-pad action towards the end, fairly standard stuff where Motor City vibes are concerned. Analogical Dub gets groovier. Dare I say, housier? Detroit house! No, wait, there's acid burbling about, so that officially makes it acid house. Scratch that, this sounds nothing like Chicago, what with the backing pads and all. Way too spaced-out for anything terra firma based, so space house it is. Or it's still techno, but of a more 'intelligent' sort. No, we can't call it trance, it's too early for that.

Anything else? Uh, not really. Despite the significant jump in songcraft compared to the Intercontinental EP, this is still Speedy J in development. Give a Dutchman a break though, it was only 1991. Why, the Artificial Intelligence series hadn't even debuted yet, so who knew just how creative this techno thing could potentially get. Gotta' let the technology catch up to our modern expectations, yo'.

Electric Deluxe - Electric Deluxe

Plus 8 Records: 2000/2021

So I bought Speedy J's Bandcamp catalogue. Yes, the whole thing, all thirty-two items, every single. A bit excessive perhaps, as I can't claim to be a die-hard fan of Jochem Paap's output. Still, with his first twenty years worth of solo catalogue finally online, I may as well take the full plunge. Naturally, this means I'll be reviewing every- okay, not every single release. Not much point in doing Ginger, G-Spot (&!ive), and Loudboxer again.

And as is tradition with this blog, I am not starting off this comprehensive dive into Speedy J's discography with a Speedy J record – never anything straight-forward at EMC, nosiree! Instead, by alphabetical decree, that honour goes to Electric Deluxe, a one-off alias for a one-off single. Not that such an act was unprecedented in Jochem's career, a few such aliases in his early years (Tune, The Second Wave). This one came out at a weird time for it though, during another of his frequent transitions from one form of techno to another.

Again, what I write is often supposition based on easily available facts. Seeing this single emerge under a fresh alias right before Speedy J's Loudboxer era though, has me wondering just how confident he was about going that route. Electric Deluxe has all the hallmarks of Mr. Paap's turn towards hard, bangin' minimalist techno, but that's not what his regular Speedy J output was doing at the time. A Shocking Hobby was aggressive in its own right, but more in a broken beat, IDM sort of way. Throughout much of the '90s, the Speedy one was known for 'intelligent techno', and the works of Adam Beyer and Chris Liebing were not.

Still, those jocks were making some respectable bank touring that sound, and Jochem may have been itching to finally get properly paid for all his efforts. Thus, test the market a little with a fresh alias on an old, reliable Detroit label (well, Windsor), and if things turn out fine, go whole hog with the primary alias.

I have to assume it worked out, Electric Deluxe's success not only convincing Jochem this was the path to take, but the single doing respectable business on the and DJ mix CD market too – everyone from Ken Ishii to Sven Väth to Kai Tracid (!) to DJ Montana of Black Hole Recordings (!?) got in on it.

And why not? Electric Deluxe is mint peak-time techno business (Business Techno? Good God, no), a relentless seven-minute assault of building, percolating rhythms, with a little requisite flange and siren effects thrown in at the climax. Certainly a far cry from the days of De-Orbit and The Oil Zone, but definitely right in the lane of what 4am bangin' techno was up to at the turn of the century. Glitch pummels even harder while getting deeper into a supporting drone tone, while Glitch 2 keeps the focus on the beats, dirty and crunchy. Nothing fancy, just the way techno at the time liked it.

Various - EarthBeat

Jumpin' & Pumpin': 1992/2021

Well, this certainly makes that 4-CD Techno Explosion compilation redundant. If you recall my five year old review (!!), I picked it up for exactly one track, Q by Mental Cube. My reasoning was, of the few available options out there, it seemed the most cost-effective. Old pre-FSOL music from Dougans and Cobain was growing pricier on the second-hand market, and no way any of those early collections from Jumpin' & Pumpin' would see a re-issue. So of course they put out a 30th Anniversary release of EarthBeat, the compilation highlighting a bunch of tunes from their early pre-Accelerator catalogue, including Q by Mental Cube. Thanks, Jumpin' & Pumpin'! Or is it fsoldigital that did it? Whoever put it on their Bandcamp page.

In case you haven't kept up with your Future Sound Of London history, Earthbeat is the name of Brian and Dougans' original studio, infamously barely bigger than a working closet lodged between a couple other music gear shops. The lucrative Virgin deal landed them the money to expand, but before their breakout in Papua New Guinea, they mostly used the typical tools of the techno trade of the time: Roland synths and drum machines, Akai samplers, Atari computer, and the like. Small wonder the material released as Mental Cube or Indo Tribe or Smart Systems or Yage wasn't much evolved ('future sounding', if you will) compared to their contemporaries of the time. All they could afford was whatever else everyone else was using, including a few hand-me-downs. Not to mention a little self plagiarism when they finally did a proper album in Accelerator.

With that in mind, going into EarthBeat expecting something mind-bending three decades on is a fool's errand. This compilation is very much a product of its time, techno that you instantly date to three specific years (1990, 1991, 1992), with very little hope of excelling beyond. Yes, Q is one of the few – how many tunes can lay claim to a bunch of bleeping turning into an earworm? Papua New Guinea is also here, but it's the Dumb Child Of Q remix (aka: just the ambient-ish intro), which will never not leave the listener with blue ear-balls. Elsewhere, In The Mind Of A Child is another strong outing for bleep techno, and Tingler's fun for some ol' skool 'ardcore.

As for the rest, they're mostly fine, and certainly show off more diversity than you'd expect from early FSOL: You Took My Love going piano house, People Livin' Today a pure Balearic house outing, Chile Of The Bass Generation repping that Meat Beat Manifesto vibe, the Coby '94 Mix of Stakker Humanoid going full-bore acid techno. If you didn't know better, you might even believe all these aliases were unique artistes on the same label.

The byline on EarthBeat's cover sure suggests so, implicating FSOL, Indo Tribe, Semi Real, Smart Systems, Yage, Mental Cube, Candese, and Humanoid all different. Like, it was some secret knowledge that had to be maintained for all time.

The Chemical Brothers - Come With Us

Virgin: 2002

The fourth album from Misters Rowlands and Simons is regarded as something of a well-received flop – enjoyed when released, but leaving little lasting impression upon The Chemical Brothers' wider catalogue. Frankly, they had to try something different, lest they remain thought of as vanguards of a rapidly cratering big-beat scene. Surrender had already started the transition, but that album had enough familiar sonic markers making it more of a companion piece to Dig Your Own Hole than anything drastically different.

So reinvention was necessary, but where could they go? The same place everyone goes eventually: house or techno. In this case, they went with the latter, or about as techno as The Chemical Brothers could reasonably get away with. Something closer to their underground party roots, where the rhythms are repetitive and relentless, no space for big anthemic choruses with rock radio guest stars.

Testing those waters was a test-pressing for the track It Began In Afrika, a tune that I practically knew how it'd go before hearing it once. “Oh, I bet they'll use that vocal sample that says the title, which I first heard in an Ice MC track, then do some tribal drumming along with their usual psychedelic loops of fury. I is so smart!” Having hacked the puzzle (or whatever), I wasn't too enthused about the new Chemical Brothers and let Come With Us pass me by.

Something drew me back to it though, a lingering sense of curiosity of what the album's full length might entail. That initial positive buzz had to be worth something, and latter reactions seem to confirm this is a 'deeper' record compared to their other efforts. Seeing as how it's so dirt cheap on the used market, springing for a copy wouldn't hurt. I've never been led astray by a Chemical Brothers album anyway (even if one in particular was overplayed to the grave).

And the titular opener sets us off in good fashion, a smashing tension builder with a climax of cascading synth sweeps that I'm sure sequenced amazingly with 1.21 gigawatts of laser technology. Not as immediately ear-wormy as their other album openers, but then this is supposedly a 'deeper' album. It Began In Afrika-ka-ka-ka-ka comes next, and it's exactly as I predicted. It's pretty dope too, so fool on me for initially so haphazardly dismissing it because I guessed the ending. Star Guitar was the other big tune off here, a loopy Balearic outing that kind of reminds me of The Field (or is that foretold?). Only two guest vocalists appear, the obligatory Beth Orton featuring The State We're In, and Richard Ashcroft of The Verve on the obligatory psychedelic closer The Test.

The remaining mostly amount to uptempo breaks and techno tracks, the limp acid-fart of My Elastic Eye the only dud among them. Hardly adventurous stuff, but I'm sure it felt nice for these brothers to get back to some basic party jams. It's definitely one of the smoothest Chemical Brothers albums I've heard.

Model 500 - Classics (2022 Update)

R & S Records: 1993

(Click here to read my original EMC review.)

Model 500 is Juan Atkins, a very important person in the world of techno. Often credited with being one of the Godfathers of the genre, his fame diminished as new upstarts took the techno mantle for themselves during the 90s. His career floundered for a while, which led to depression and over-eating. Determined to reclaim prestige for his name and his waistline, Atkins developed a bold new diet, which focused on the consumption of high amounts of protein to stave of hunger cravings. Wait, I’m getting serious deja-vu here...

Wow. I mean... Wow! It's finally come to this. I've literally looped this blog, finally reviewing every single item of mine from pre-re-launch. All that I have left to cover is that which I've gotten within the past year, and whatever I continue to get in the future. It's... still a fair amount, believe you me.

Does this mean I'll be doing updated reviews for everything from 2012 on? Haha, oh Lord, of course not! While I admit there's some shakey writing from those first few months, there likely isn't much else I can add to them. Granted, some reviews may have been under-written due to my self-imposed limited word count, but I'm mostly satisfied with the points I got across. Exhaustively detailing every nuance and production trick was never the point of this exercise, no matter how much fun it might have been to psycho-analyze a FSOL record or three.

That said, I will say one amend I'd like to make over my original Model 500 Classics review, in that I was unfairly harsh to complaints of overt '80s in it. How was I to know we were on the verge of a celebration of retro-future '80s sounds in the coming decade, more so than even the early '00s revival? Yeah, something like Chase (Smooth Mix) and Electric Entourage still can't shake the tinny production, but the rest? Perfectly fine early techno, by g'ar.

Okay, that's sorted. Where was I? Oh yes... wow! Like really, wow! It took nearly a full decade to get to this point, and I definitely didn't make it easier on myself in constantly getting new music. It honestly boggles my mind to think how much I gathered since October of 2012. By my hazy recollection, I had somewhere over 600 items in my music collection at that point, while Lord Discogs tells me I'm currently sitting at about 2,000. I basically tripled it in half the time! Then I see some of those 8,000 CD collections on Discogs and wonder, “HOW!??” Then again, those collectors aren't attempting something so daft as reviewing such large collections either. Undoubtedly less picky about their splurges, I wager.

I really don't have anything else to say here. It is rather fortuitous that such a milestone was reached at this point though, as I'm making a couple changes here going forward. To find out what, stay tuned for the monthly ACE TRACKS recap! Ooh, suspense.

Tiga - Ciao! (Original TC Review)

Turbo: 2009

(2022 Update:
Mr. Sontag certainly seemed primed for a shot at super-stardom in this long-ago time of 2009, especially as the Era Of Guetta was nigh. Instead, he waited over half a decade for a follow-up album, and hasn't released another LP since. Still out there DJing and making collaborative singles though, so seems to be doing alright for himself.

Nothing much else to add to this review. The 'maximal' Ed Banger stuff is very much stuck in the '00s, but all the charming synth-pop tunes hold help. I still randomly get Shoes stuck in my head, though that might be more due to Neebs Gaming naming one of their NPCs in Conan Exiles that. It's funny when you know the context, I swear!)


IN BRIEF: Getting better.

With Ciao!, I think we can finally put an end to the big question surrounding Tiga’s career as a solo artist: just how serious is he being? The answer is rather serious after all, at least as serious as anyone can get when it comes to synth-pop of this sort. It was tough to tell, though, since there was always this sense that he was merely toying with the novelty of the genre, making it his personal playground to indulge himself with surprisingly fun covers of unexpected tunes. Then, once the faddism of it faded, he’d move onto whatever whim fancied him from there (remember, this was the guy that at one point wasn’t averse to pushing drum ’n’ bass DJ mixes on his label Turbo). Yet, after the relative success of Sexor, it seems he decided to properly pursue this avenue further.

In that regard, Ciao! is a very easy record to form an opinion on. Do you like synth-pop that holds silly-silly nonsensical lyrics about shoes and the time being “sex o’clock”? Then you’ll love this, no question. Not to say Tiga doesn’t stretch lyrically elsewhere on here, but that isn’t the aim with Ciao!. This is dance-pop at its simplest, and complicated wordplay only gets in the way (just ask The KLF).

That said, there is a degree of musicianship going on here that prevents Ciao! from easily being dismissed. Having Soulwax, James Murphy, Jori Hulkkonen (naturally), the better-half of the Dahlbäck brothers, and Gonzales of Feist-production fame in the studio with him certainly helps, but fact of the matter is Tiga has long had an ear for knowing a good hook, even if he’s liberally borrowed from others. Beep Beep Beep? Shoes? Luxury? Mark my words, those songs are going to lodge in your head and set up residency for a while. Elsewhere, you’ll swear you’ve heard some variation on these tracks on your local Jack.fm radio station. The piano in Turn The Night On, for instance - damn, where have I heard that before? Or those backing “ah-ah-ah, ah”s in Speak, Memory (oh, that’s right, Billy Idol’s Dancing With Myself).

The funny thing is, for a guy that made his early reputation as a purveyor of great underground music, Tiga’s pop leanings fare much better than most of his purely techno tracks. What You Need’s abrasive out-of-tune maximal-synths is fun enough and Overtime has a good deal of solid instrumental build-up at the beginning, but Mind Dimension is just… ugh. What the hell is even going on in this? The beats limply plod, sounds interchange aimlessly between spits of acid and farty squelches, and by the end you realize the track has amounted to nothing of note (Jesper Dahlbäck, who co-wrote this, must be picking up some bad habits from his brother John); Shoes, such a ridiculous (though fun!) song on its own, sounds utterly brilliant as a follow-up. And yet, somehow, Mind Dimension too gets lodged in your head. Damn that Tiga!

Then, at the other end of the spectrum (and the end of the album), we see Tiga’s songwriting mature in such a way I’m sure no one could have predicted. Gentle Giant’s melancholy keyboard tones and solemn mood seems to bring out the very best of Mr. Sontag’s singing capabilities, but more impressive is he can be credibly serious if he so chooses. The ten-minute opus Love Don’t Dance Here Anymore then solidifies this assumption, and you’re left wondering, if he’s clearly capable of this, why fall back on simple synth-pop ditties?

In that regard, Tiga seems to have come to occupy an intriguing musical area between hipster-faves Chromeo and festival-faves Hot Chip. On one hand you have music that is clearly satisfied in being somewhat campy, yet it still displays a creativeness that belies its pure-pop sensibility. Tiga seems to be stuck at that crossroad of where to take his music next.

This isn’t to say Ciao! is some kind of revelatory genius of songwriting - it honestly isn’t. The final couple tracks aside, the music is about as candid as dance-pop gets. Whether you enjoy this album in the long run will probably boil down to how long you find Tiga’s performance charming. As it stands, Mr. Sontag still is an incredibly charming fellow, but unless he’s willing to grow as a songwriter, charm will only carry him so far.

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

Various - Choice: A Collection Of Classics - John Digweed (2022 Update)

Azuli Records: 2005

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review)

In my original review, I waxed on a bunch about the need for compilations such as these. A chance for famed DJs with deep crates to show off the influential but outdated tunes from their collections. Music they could no longer reasonably rinse out on the weekends, but hold special or sentimental value to their developed playing styles just the same. Granted, the '00s compilation market grew rather bloated with multiple series covering similar ground, such that a few are all but utterly forgotten nearly two decades on. Yes, I'm including Choice in that category. Don't get me wrong, it had a decent run. It didn't last past 2007 though, bowing out when Azuli Records went into liquidation by the end of the decade, and isn't brought up in The Discourse anymore. Gosh, maybe I can find a couple on the cheap-cheap now!

I'd like to assume, had the CD market not collapsed in the wake of streaming services, such compilations would still exist. Would it, though? Like, you'd think curated favourites of famed individuals would be big business with so much music available to the masses now, but I don't see much hype around it. Yeah, a Drake or a Kardashian or a Gorillaz might share some mixtape release on social media, but I'm thinking more than that.

Like, those artist Radios you get on Spotify. Wouldn't it be neat if they were actual radios, music they'd play over radio waves, each their own version of a college rock station show? Instead, it's just another algorithm generated playlist, featuring a selection of artists that are similar to the one you clicked the Radio button for. Maybe handy for those just getting into some genres or producers, but wholly redundant if you've been at this a while now. Why can't the algorithm provide some proper deep dives, yo'?

Or maybe there actually is a thriving social media community out there making ample use of such services, one I simply haven't stumbled across. For sure outlets like Mixcloud or Twitch should provide the means, but then you're kinda' shouting into the ether-void to get attention. Unless you already have a brand with a prominent base, establishing yourself as some modern John Peel is an almost futile gesture. And to be fair, a series like Choice would never have gotten off the ground if it hadn't relied on DJs with some brand reputation behind them, ensuring some curiosity from consumers in such a product. These were always an additional item of interest though. You needn't get a Choice from Digweed when he still had Bedrock or Transitions as his primary outlets.

I dunno. Feels like this is just more 'old man yells at cloud' musing. Why can't things be like it once was, and such as. I'm sure music compilations like Choice or Life:Styles or Back To Mine still exist out there, even as a nebulous streaming service concept, but it sure was easier finding them back in the day.

LongWalkShortDock - Casual Tea (Original TC Review)

Lunarian Records: 2009

(2022 Update:
Talk about a flashpoint in time. While I can't say Mr. King's career ever took off at a global superstar level, he's certainly become one of the premiere fixtures on the American West live P.A. circuit. This was written shortly after his first, almost innocuous performance at the Shambhala Music Festival, but it wasn't long before his annual sets turned into one of THE weekend highlights every year. Not too shabby indeed.

As for the music, this has held up pretty well. Yeah, it's definitely a product of its time, but the songcraft holds strong-style in spite of whatever Ed Banger-era attributes drip through. It almost feels like a forgotten album in Dave's catalog now, his profile growing much larger after the fact with the headbangers as heard live. No time for sentimental downtime when moshing away with stage flailers, I guess.)


IN BRIEF: Criminally overlooked.

(2022 Edit: Removed an overlong, unneccesary anectdote that served as a lead-in; just get to the point, 2009 Sykonee!)

Some of the best bangin’ techno albums I’ve heard - Speedy J’s Loudboxer or L.S.G.’s The Black Album, f’st’nce - lose something at a purely primal level when listening to them from the comfort of home, which unfortunately also loses part of the appeal of what makes such music work. It’s rather impractical to be lazing on a couch with tea while beats are blasting out of your speakers, urging you to get your flailing mosh on.

Such concerns arose when it came to the debut album from up-and-coming local-scene hero Dave King; aka Longwalkshortdock. Given the Northwest’s isolation from the rest of the world, it wouldn’t surprise me if our overseas readers haven’t heard of him, especially so because King has made his reputation mostly on the live circuit (ask anyone who’s seen him at the Soundwave Music Festival, and you’re sure to be met with an outpouring of hyperbolic praise). Without a doubly-doubt, he is a sight to behold live, as King seemingly turns into rubber, flailing about as he serves up an excellent entre of ready-made maximal techno mosh and chip-tune thrills. His stage energy is highly infectious, with tunes that tap into the best aspects of techno bedlam, any show quickly turning into a rockingly rowdy gathering. How, then, can you possibly transplant that intensity onto an album format?

Frankly, you can’t. So it’s just as well that King hasn’t tried. Instead, Casual Tea presents itself as a proper album, with tracks of various styles, tempos, and length. Hey, it worked for Liam Howlett, and while this truthfully is no Jilted Generation, there are plenty of things about LWSD’s music that still works in an album context. Let me detail a few such things!

Actually, the opening track is as good an example as any. Will I Dream contains a bunch of elements that sum up King’s tunes nicely: nu-electro-funk, maximal-aggressiveness, 8-bit glitch, dreamy melodic backings. Okay, so that sounds par for the course for a lot of electronic music these days, but here’s the catch: King does it better than many another. His beats, though admittedly brick-walled in the production department, hit you with force and purpose, urging you to wildly wobble about just as much as the man himself. When his synths are cranked to the red, it still sounds clean and clear, not cartoonishly distorted like many an Ed Banger tune. The chip-tune bits are effectively handled and the backing melodies are just trancey enough to let your mind float on. What makes all this better though? It’s the fact that the track keeps moving forward, constantly building upon what came before. After some six minutes, from where you’d expect a track of this sort to wrap up, King unleashes an extra assault of funky goodness. Why he do that? He don’t need to do that. But he did do that, and Will I Dream is so much better that he did do that.

Many of the cuts on here work this continuous build, sending his tracks to energetic highs few contemporaries seem willing to go. Horse Fly, I’m So Bad I Make Medicine Sick, High Expectations, Knowin’ That You’re Goin’ - all strong examples. Beyond that, though, King keeps his album fresh throughout by dabbling outside this field. Of course, you have your electro-funk numbers, but how’s about something more on the industrial side in Born At Night or I Will Kill You With Techno, where he drags his synths through gravel pits and distorts his voice in such a way that would make Cabaret Voltaire happy. Melodically blissful tracks Keep It Round, Sara Purple, Warm Girls, and Why Do I Bother prove King’s more than just a one-trick maximal pony, and the all-out chip-tune closer You Can Have It is a hoot, only missing some actual NES themes as has been known to be heard in his live sets.

And dammit, some of King’s tunes are just undeniably catchy. The clear highlight - High Expectations - is already a wildly fun bit of warbled techno, but I dare you to resist bellowing out in unison “I want someone who grabs my soul, and sets my heart on fire!” during the track’s chorus. Go on, try. Ah-ha, I knew you couldn't.

Casual Tea is as strong as any EDM debut you’re likely to come across these days - it easily trumps several other albums that have received gratuitous amounts of promotion in recent years. Even if you’ve grown rather sick of nu-electro tropes, the infectious energy King has infused his music with will have you throwing such cares to the cliffs. Despite LWSD’s profile being nearly nonexistent outside of his local scene right now, an album like this clearly proves he has the chops to make it on a larger stage. With luck, Casual Tea will help push his career to higher pastures (even without the need to resort to a gimmick like a mouse-head). If not, well, you can always say that you managed to grab your hands on a true underground classic, one that will end up being worth stupid amounts of coin at Discogs a decade on.

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