Rapoon - Fallen Gods

Staalplaat/Abstrakce Records: 1994/2021

Jumping all around Rapoon's catalogue has yielded plenty of interesting items now, but man, I just can't help but keep returning to Vernal Crossing the most. Something so primal, so instinctual ...so, dare I say, erotic. I keep wondering is there anything else like it in Mr. Storey's storied career, when the answer is so bluntly obvious, I'm astounded it took me this long to realize it. Or maybe I was subconsciously biding my time for a digital remaster to emerge. Sure, let's go with that, a seductive, subliminal message lurking within Vernal Crossing Revisited suggesting I bide my time before returning to this era of the Rapoon tale.

While there's plenty to be said about most of the early Rapoon records, I feel like Fallen Gods gets a little overlooked. It doesn't have that 'new concept' freshness the debut Dream Circle does (an album that's seen a triple-LP reissue!), which follow-ups Raising Earthly Spirits and especially Vernal Crossing maintained. If anything, because Fallen Gods came out the same year as Vernal Crossing, it couldn't help but get bypassed, the post-ecstatic glow of the former record still permeating upon the public consciousness. Whoa, reign in the hyperbole there! It's a cool album, f'sure, but only a highly niche audience would be aware of it back when, much less today.

Still, I'm a little surprised Fallen Gods didn't get at least a little more attention outside the abstract ambient sphere – say, the tribal techno sect? Obviously it sounds little like what you'd hear out of the PWoG camps, but compared to the pure, loopy nature of his previous works, Rapoon has added something more of a propellant rhythmic pulse to all the sampled drums and primal sounds.

Opener certainly seems to build upon the Vernal Crossing formula, but feels more minimalist and dubby. Meanwhile, second track Iron Path is almost mechanical, its rhythms rather jerky and coerced into its loop – and still, all performed rather spaciously, as though letting the drums be the dictating force. Rapoon had always used rhythmic loops before, but seldom such that they were the dominate feature, preferring to focus on the general atmosphere of his compositions. And as if to put an exclamation mark on this different direction, the titular cut features drum work that is almost thunderous, as though the sky spirits themselves are descending upon the populace below.

If Fallen Gods was primarily of this tone, I could see it having more attention over the years, but it kinda' waffles after. There's pure ambient drone pieces (Breathing Gold), tracks that sound like left-overs from the Vernal Crossing sessions (Sacrement, Valley), and a dalliance into what I assume is a Bulbul tarang solo: one mostly unmanipulated, followed by a more 'traditional' Rapoon loop session. All neat stuff, absolutely, but doesn't leave the album with a dominate aesthetic compared to his other works. Which may explain why Fallen Gods didn't get the 'revisited' remix treatment either. Nothing left to further explore here.

Rapoon - Navigating By Colour

Soleilmoon Recordings: 1999

Feels like this has been a long time coming, but I finally get to talk about a vintage Rapoon album! Okay, I've only really been covering the chap for half a decade now, just four albums worth in that time. And even with that scant selection, Mr. Storey's muse has proven a wildly divergent one indeed, such that you'd be hard-pressed to point to any singular sound as That Definitive Rapoon Stylee.

Heck, I'm sure many folks would claim I've already done so, what with having reviewed Vernal Crossing and all. I'll grant his fusion of primal loops with industrial ambient gave Rapoon a significant boost in profile, especially in the wake of his Zoviet France days. Still, it wasn't that sound that first lured me in, but rather a more typical techno approach to the craft. There's still the endless loops and layered dub, just done in a more thumping sort of way. And now with Navigating By Colour, I've finally landed upon an album that delivers it in... well, a couple tracks worth, at least.

First, how does Navigating By Colour fall within the greater Rapoon lexicon. Hell if I know, but here's a basic rundown. Released on Soleilmoon Recordings (where other sonic terrorists like Muslimgauze, Merzbow, and Coil have been comfy), packaged with a dozen postcards featuring art similar to that on the CD slipcase. A real collector's item, this, and by extension not an easy album to find via your usual modern outlets. I feel I lucked out on even finding a seller for this at all, postcards included, but so it goes some days on the Discogs Marketplace.

Opener Blue Hemisphere is the sort of Rapoony music I was introduced to, a brisk rhythm with layered operatic drones ebbing and flowing as things play out. So simple, yet so seductive, losing one's psyche into pure tribalism. Midway through the album, Red Hemisphere gets deeper into the drumming, such that the dub effects morph just as much as the backing pad work. There isn't much else on Navigating by Colour with featured rhythms, though From This Point... does loop mechanical chugging and churning into a rhythm onto itself.

Mostly though, we're in industrial drone territory with this album. Some pieces, like Prussian and Imagine, get weirdly abstract with bits of spoken dialog and layered vocal tones, while The Last Gladding Tide and Winter Shields edge closer to the realms of modern classical. Cerulean and Sienna are pure concrete grinders though, and Eden's Plains is even more punishing in its dark isolationism. Alizarin gets all noisy towards the end of its ten-minute run, and by jove, I do believe we've run the gamut of what one might expect out of a Rapoon joint. If you were expecting anything at all, that is.

Which is half the fun with artists like these, isn't it? Sure, you may have an inkling what to expect, but they'll almost always surprise you just the same.

Fabric 55: Shackleton

Fabric: 2010

Another year, another mini-splurge on Fabric CDs on the cheap. While it's doubtful I'll ever get them all, even the thirty-plus currently sitting on my shelves seems like a paltry amount compared to what's out there. Heck, I could expand that by ten more CDs, if I wanted to buy another bundle of ones available for under ten bones. Despite the series having ended, there's two-hundred releases under its banner, many of which are far from ever reaching the pricey collector's market

I bring this up because I find it rather bizarre that despite my generally restrictive rules in getting a Fabric CD (must be dirt cheap on Amazon), I've landed upon yet another 'artist' album in the series. Just how many of these are there? Ricardo Villalobos' entry was the most infamous, in that it was the one that broke that barrier in the first place. I remember there being a bit of a stir when Omar S did the same. I didn't even know Daphni (aka: Caribou; aka: Manitoba; aka: Mister Snaith; aka: Dan) had one until I got it. No doubt it takes a bit of gumption to even do such a thing when followers of Fabric expect DJ mixes featuring multiple artists on a single disc, not an excuse to hawk your own productions.

Of course, the argument can be made that some producers and DJs have a style that's so uniquely their own that doing an 'artist' album is about the only way they could do a Fabric set justice. It's certainly a worthy point when it comes to Shackleton. When he was still technically part of the dubstep lexicon, his style was far more tribal and primal compared to his contemporaries, quickly establishing himself as among the freshest sounding artists of the '00s UK bass scene.

Even after proper demarcations formed following those Wild West years, Shackleton still didn't fit tidily into any specific sub-genre. How, then, could he be expected to do a traditional DJ mix for Fabric if there were so few other cats making similar music he could rinse out? Still, the series wanted prominent names, so let him do it his way, even if the results are basically another artist album from the man. It's not like he had many under his belt by 2010 anyway.

And yep, fabric 55 is definitely a Shackleton set. Lots of afro rhythms, lots of tribal drumming, lots of minimalist dub, almost all fresh material (older joints like Hypno Angel and Massacre crop up), and in no hurry to get the party moving. I know my go-to comparisons for this sort of sound is Sandoz or Rapoon, but for some reason Muslimgauze at his more entrancing is the name that keeps cropping up in my mind in this outing. If Bryn Jones had been inspired by northern Africa rather than Arabia that is. And less about the industrial noise. Okay, it's not a perfect comparison, but I didn't want to again namedrop my old standbys.

Lucette Bourdin - Drum Repercussions

Dark Duck Records/Fantasy Enhancing: 2009/2021

Wish I realized this sooner. Could have broken up these two Lucette Bourdin albums from each other, book-ending the two DnB Arena releases. How was I to know Drums And Repercussions would for some reason get retitled Drum Repercussions for this box-set? Actually, I technically knew it when I first ripped the CDs to my computer, and WMP retitled it to its proper name, hence why it slotted after Drum&Bass Arena 2019. That's kinda' remarkable, come to think of it, that WMP would even have such an obscure album already on file. Guess there has been over a decade for other souls to have done the deed. In any event, because the version I have is titled Drum Repercussions, I'm going with that, even if it has thrown my orderly alphabetical queue slightly askew. *eye twitches OCD'ily*

Anyhow, Drums And Repercussions came out in what was undoubtedly Lucette's most productive year, 2009. In fact, both of her 'drum' albums came out that year, though this one earlier than Drum-atic Atmospheres. It was only a few months prior that she had introduced any sort of rhythms into her ambient pieces, which I already covered with Colors, Shapes & Rhythms. I also felt those outings came off as something of a feeling-out process, Ms. Bourdin making use of acquired drum loop tools but doing little to utilize them as her own. There were hints of potential, for sure, but I'd need to hear some something a little more dynamic if I was to be won over.

Well, I can't say her beats are dynamic in Drum Repercussions, but they are better used, mostly instilling a tribal, meditative rhythm while synth drones carry on. Opener Jungle Steam certainly imparts a feeling of gently cruising down some old-growth realm of the tropics without falling into cliche, a sense of mystery and awe while ancient civilizations are revealed beneath dense foliage. Wish I could say follow-up Mile High Boogie maintained that vibe though, Lucette's choice of drum loop and odd tub-dub not really syncing well; still, lovely synth tones.

From there, we get a variety of soft ambient techno (Picnic By The Creek, And So It Goes, The River of Ghosts), New Agey tribal numbers (Hymn To The Rising Sun, Dancing With Bears, Follow Me Home), and Berlin-School opulence (Song Of Creation, Glowing In The Dark). And... gosh, for ten tracks, that's honestly a fair amount of diversity. I'll grant I've yet to take in even a quarter of Lucette's total output, but I feel safe claiming her wheel-house generally remains on the ambient spectrum.

Still, if Drums And Repercussions is any indicator, she was definitely feeling more confident as a musical artist at this point, willing to branch out and mostly succeeding in her efforts doing so. Yeah, there's still a couple tracks here that don't mesh as well as they could, but on the whole, Drum Repercussions is the strongest LP I've yet heard in this box-set. Only sixteen more to go!

Sandoz - Intensely Radioactive

Touch: 1994

I really should have gotten this sooner. I adore Digital Lifeforms. I enjoy Chant To Jah. Why has it taken me this long to scope out all the Sandoz albums between? Are they ultra-rare or something? No more rare than anything else from Touch, which can be rather rare indeed. Not this one though, at least such that it hasn't reached ludicrous prices on the Discogs market yet. So why the long delay?

Uncertainty, mostly. The stylistic gap between those two Sandoz albums was wide, and Richard H. Kirk is a man of many muses, so who knew just how many different avenues he explored in the interim. Still, this Intensely Radioactive was released shortly after Digital Lifeforms, plus it retained The Designer's Republic artwork of whatever that body-horror abomination is. Odds were good we'd still be on that Afro-techno industrial dub tip.

Indeed, opener Beneath The City Streets practically picking up right where White Darkness left off. Eerie tones echoing of rusting monstrosities, mechanical beats cruising along a primitive rhythm, dubbed-out basslines reverberating off the deepest chambers, chants from the lands of Mali, and those distinct bleepy sounds that are a Sandoz staple (probably other Kirkian works too). In fact, it all sounds evolved from Digital Lifeforms, Richard far more confident in what this project is capable of. And while I still prefer the simplistic elegance of his earlier works, Beneath The City Streets does paint a richer canvas with similar elements.

Follow-up Inner Rhythms carries on, with another eerie opening that sounds right out of vintage Biosphere. The pace soon quickens though, and we're in for another tribal-techno work-out, all that wonderful industrial sonic grit dirtying the drums up in classic Psychick Warriors Ov Gaia fashion. Goodness though, does this track ever go on. The opener was over nine minutes, and this one hits the eleven minute mark, a little over-indulgent given the limited sounds on display. In fact, much of Intensely Radioactive feels longer than it needs to be, most tracks hovering around the nine-minute mark. There are occasions where my attention drifts, which didn't happen once on Digital Lifeforms. Quibbles, quibbles, always a quibble.

So Exoskeleton and Atro City Reaction get down to some Afro-boogie, Revolution and the titular cut are almost ridiculously brisk, and closer Luminous takes us out on the same vibe as opener Beneath The City Streets. Only, there's more of a benign feel now, as though we're finally acclimatized to this future-shock landscape, remnants of our humanity still lurking in the shadows, waiting to re-emerge after all has turned to rust.

Okay, I may be overstating things again, but what can I say? Sandoz' music ofttimes does weird things to my mindspace, transporting into a unique sonic realm few others manage. I'll never claim it's for everyone, but for the adventurous, there's little quite like what's heard on Intensely Radioactive. Including subsequent Sandoz albums, Mr. Kirk apparently going more jazzy. I, um, may skip on those for a while.

Dubtribe Sound System - Bryant Street

BMG Music Canada: 1999

Considering how often I've come across Sunshine and Moonbeam's music, I feel neglectful in not covering their music much. Granted, they only had a few albums out within a decade's worth of activity, but seeing as how that decade covered the '90s, and a hefty chunk of the early '00s, you'd think their brand of San Fran' house would be right up my ally. And that may be true, if I ever gave them a chance to win me over, to have that One Moment when their music catches me at that perfect flashpoint in time when it hits just right. It's yet to happen though, and while Bryant Street does have plenty good going for it, I'm not sure if it's the album that will accomplish this.

First, a little background. The duo started out on the San Francisco scene as a live house act, incorporating gear, instruments and their own vocals into their shows. Almost immediately, they scored an underground hit in Mother Earth on Chicago-based Organico, a proto big-beat number most famous for Sunshine going on a hippie-punk rant about wanting his planet back (The Chemical Brothers sure loved it). A couple more hot singles and an album or two later, and Dubtribe was touring everywhere. They might have been an even bigger deal had they landed a major label deal earlier on. I'm sure that's what Jive Electro was counting on when they signed them, figuring they'd have another Groove Armada-level big name to their roster. It... didn't quite pan out that way.

Bryant Street starts off strong, getting in on plenty of that Latin house vibe with rows of congas, bombastic string sections, triumphant horns, and jubilant Spanish singing. As the album is continuously mixed too, the party keeps going, even as tracks like El Regalo de Amor and Loneliness In Dub take turns in getting deeper into the house vibes than the surrounding company. I wouldn't go so far as to say Dubtribe are doing much that would stand out from a crowded pack of house contemporaries, but it's fun while it's playing.

Then Sunshine has to start getting his rant on again in Ain't Gonna Do You No Good and Holler!, and, well, it was cool hearing him spouting off in Mother Earth but it just feels forced here, as though he's trying to outdo and over-complicate the simple, emphatic “I want my planet back!” Holler! especially sounds like a hold-over from Dubtribe's earlier rave roots, such that I can't help but expect Sunshine to end each verse with “It's the only rhyme that BITES-AHH!”

Closers Breeze and If You're Not Coming Back To Me go more Balearic and jazzy, respectfully, but unfortunately, the abrupt change in the album's tone that preceded these tunes leaves a weird aftertaste on my ears, such that I've checked out. As did Jive, when they dropped Dubtribe after Bryant Street failed to shift as many units as hoped. Back to the underground, I guess.

DJ 3000 - Besa

Motech: 2013

This is the last of the six-CD bundle I got from Motech's Bandcamp, though not the album I thought I'd yet to write about. Okay, DJ 3000's Besa was in that collection too, but what I mean is there was another disc I thought was supposed to be in there, Lionel Weets' Stellar Orchestra. Indeed, it's in the bundle's list of albums, but for some reason, I was sent Galactic Caravan instead. At least, I think that's what happened? It's been so long now. Did I maybe get it, but somehow lost it before I could do a rip of it? No, I wouldn't have done that, no way no how (no... way... *twitch-twitch*). And it's not like I can verify it through Bandcamp, since those CD bundles don't include the download with your purchase. If it did, my Bandcamp collection would be nearly double its size from Cyro Chamber releases alone!

Also, I kinda' forgot about this one, or had it so far in the back of my mind that it never occurred to me that I'd be reviewing Besa as well as Sälis. Maybe I wouldn't have burned through so much detailing of both albums in the Sälis review if I had, but then I never did get around to listening to this one either. Or if I did, I totally forgot about it until now. It all goes back to that 'all you can eat buffet smoothie' experience of digesting these CD-bundle purchases. C'mon, that was a great analogy, no way I wasn't gonna' use it again!

Honestly though, I just don't think Besa is as good of any album as the other two I've heard from DJ 3000. There are good tracks on here, but that's generally all they come across as: tracks. Not even 'peak-hour' tracks either, but those tunes that lead-up to the peak-hour tracks. Say, one or two before, but not necessarily the warm-up ones either. They're just so darn loopy, is the issue, which is kinda' the point of tech-house such as this. Work that groove, work that vibe, then move onto the next track. There are little builds within them too, but they don't really explode or put an exclamation point on whatever's been introduced earlier. I'm hesitant to say they flatline, since that suggests there's no pulse in these jams, but I never feel like I'm going anywhere while listening to Besa as a whole. Galactic Caravan had remarkable vitality and sense of journey (hence why I went and checked for more from Mr. Juncaj), while Sälis showcased enough variety for an engaging listen throughout.

Can't really say the same about Besa though. Yeah, some tracks are peppier than others, while a few more highlight DJ 3000's nifty use of ethnic drumming. Yet they're all structured relatively the same, not even room for a breakbeat or downtempo cut until the very last one. You'd think this was just a singles compilation, which is funny considering that's what Sälis technically was.

Kevin Yost & Peter Funk - BeatKilla: 2

i! Records: 2008/2015

I'm feeling a little stupid right now, but... Kevin Yost is also Peter Funk? Like, I know for certain Kevin Yost exists, as I've done a retrospective on that chap's work. Somehow I got it in my mind that Peter Funk was a separate entity, perhaps a collaborator who'd bring in some proper jazz solos to supplement Kevin's deep, deep, smooth house grooves. It never once occurred to me that I should, y'know, click on that 'Peter Funk' link within Lord Discogs' archives, just to see what his story is. Couldn't escape it with this BeatKilla series though, getting equal billing with Kevin on the cover and all. So follow the 'Peter Funk' link I did, and there's a healthy assortment of singles, plus also has an alias of... Kevin Yost? Wait a minute..! Peter is Kevin? Kevin is Peter? Finkle is Einhorn? That... actually explains a lot!

Okay, it doesn't explain much of anything, this revelation not really some great industry secret. I just assumed a thing, the Lord That Knows All showed me I was incorrect, and now I know better. *a shining light from heavens glows down, angelic music is heard* It's not unheard of producers to create multiple aliases, and to 'collaborate' with their aliases. I guess since Kevin's most successful pairing is with Funk (hah!), he essentially merged the two into a proper, singular alias of Kevin Yost & Peter Funk. At least for the purposes of these BeatKillas.

And whatever is BeatKilla? A series of singles Kevin Funk released throughout the '00s, is what. Lot's of them, in fact, so much so that he consolidated them into not one, not two, not three, not four ...okay, three compilations. I picked the second volume of these for the sole reason of there being a cute pooch on the cover art. Aww, just look at him, ain't he a darlin'? Who's the pweshus beatkilla'? You are, you are!

Unfortunately, while these tunes may be dubbed 'beatkilla's, they kinda' lack much in the way of thrilla's. Not that I should have expected it, Peter Yost forever (and a day) a deep house guy through and through. Even if few of the techier tracks in this collection leaped out at me as highlights within his larger discography, they still served their purpose in providing that unmistakable smooth, ridin' groove with occasional flourishes of jazzy solos. Also, a fair bit of tribal drumming too, popping up at weird points throughout this mix.

Yeah, as a DJ set, BeatKilla 2 is only functional at best, keeping the vibe moving while showcasing tunes, but not so concerned with rising tension and all that rot. Yet they fit far better together than as separate entities, the Bandcamp version of this only supplying the unmixed tracks, with all the lengthy DJ-friendly intros and outros you can handle. Why the digital release didn't also include a the mix CD too, I haven't a clue. It was done for his best of Fundamentals, after all.

SiJ - The Lost World

Reverse Alignment: 2015

See? See!? I knew there was SiJ in this endless backlog bundle (I've been at since March and I'm only in the 'L's, OMG!). It wasn't some flight of fanciful delusion that I somehow skipped out on the specific artist I raided Reverse Alignment for. Okay, no one doubted my proclamation of innocence in that Ajna review, because few would even care. I cared though, if for no other reason than to confirm my own fraying memories. I had to have scoured for SiJ, because I recall doing so. It couldn't be a figment of my imagination, could it? Like, one of those realistically mundane dreams you're so certain happened it becomes a permanent memory? The cruellest of such dreams I've had are the ones I've unearthed a trove of unreleased Calvin & Hobbes comics. Yes, it's been a recurrent one.

Thing about SiJ is one can be a tad flummoxed over where to start on his discography. Dude's nearly up to fifty releases this past decade, and while I'm sure a good deal of it is just drone experiments, there's bound to be plenty more that's not. Like, did you know he did a cover of Terra? As in, the theme music for Final Fantasy VI Terra? I sure didn't until I did a little poking around his Bandcamp page, and lo', there it was, his interpretation of one of the most lush compositions ever cranked out of the old SNES. Who'd have ever thought a guy appearing on Cryo Chamber would have a Nobuo Uematsu cover in his catalogue. Actually, come to think of it, that 'World Of Ruin' music would work quite nicely in a dark ambient context too.

Speaking of worlds, here is The Lost World. And yes, this is a specific tribute to the Conan Doyle novel, wherein a plateau within the Amazon jungle holds prehistoric creatures. Not to be confused with The Land That Time Forgot, the Edgar Rice Burroughs novel released almost concurrently about an Antarctica realm that holds prehistoric creatures. It was a popular sci-fi idea in the early 20th Century, usually featuring someone getting eaten by a Pleisiosaur, running from cavemen, and a volcano erupting. Heck, even Mickey Mouse had an adventure like that, which was weird considering the cavemen were actual pre-humans in a world of anthropomorphic animals. I've gotten way off track.

What caught me most off guard about SiJ's The Lost World is his inclusion of actual tribal rhythms in the titular cut, Night Near The Shores Of Gladys Lake, and A Fright Sight I Shall Never Forget. It's the most rhythm I've ever heard out of a SiJ album, and makes for welcome thematic variety with the other atmospheric drone pieces he crafts here (always with that distinct fuzzy melancholy). Then it all ends on a total whiplash of an under-produced tropical ditty called At The Falls. Well, under-produced compared to the deep atmospherics of what came before - almost comes off 16-bit in contrast. Say...

Wanderwelle - Gathering Of The Ancient Spirits

Silent Season: 2018

The release of Wanderwelle's debut album Lost In The Sea Of Trees was something of a turning point for Silent Season. While not the first foray into vinyl for the label, it was the first time the format was the lone hard-copy option for a long-player, skipping out on a CD version entirely (erm, and hence why I skipped on it as well ...if I must, I can wait forever on snagging a digital copy). More prominently though, it was the first time Silent Season went with something other than a picturesque photo of local scenery for cover art, instead offering an image out of a children's fairy-tale book. As the chaps behind Wanderwelle claimed the music was inspired by the pagan tribes of ancient Europe, I suppose slapping the usual misty mountains or Pacific rainforest fauna overtop wouldn't do the concept justice. (oh, and the album was wonderful; will definitely spring for a digital copy, eventually)

A year later, and the Dutch duo have come forth with their second album, Gathering Of The Ancient Spirits. Sweet, more European paganism? Nah, guy, misters Bartels and van Dulm opting for something a little more tribal here. Or tropical. French Polynesian, if we must be specific, which at least keeps with the 'Silent Season represents music inspired by the Pacific Ocean' thing. Just, y'know, the literal opposite corner from their usual haunt of the planet's largest body of water. And even then, it's not so much being inspired by Tahiti, but by the “ultrasavage” artwork of French artist Eugène Henri Paul Gauguin, who's own paintings were more an idealized depiction of the region and cultures residing there. I feel like I'm falling into some deep inception levels of inspiration here.

This tribal-tropical-Polynesian motif has generated one of Silent Season's more unique offerings. For sure such ideas have been explored before, though typically in the context of rainforests (equatorial or taigan). To say nothing of how often we hear coastal ambient dub and aqua techno from the label (new genre alerts? Oh God, no!). Gathering Of The Ancient Spirits combines these ideas into something quite soft and haunting, tapping into that same well-spring of primitive vibes that reminds me of TUU. Just in a dub techno-y sort of way.

That said, I honestly don't have much to detail on a track by track basis. Absolutely some compositions have things that prominently leap out – d'at bassline in The Seed Of The Areoi! Different forms of percussion are featured in various tracks, while the ample use of field recordings remain diverse enough such that I never feel like I'm hearing the same croaking crickets, twittering tucans, or bubbly brooks. Still, the general tone blends together into a singular overpowering mood. It all feels like I'm lazing about a tiki lounge at some resort surrounded by palm trees, but being encroached upon by the recesses of a passing culture, long since eradicated save some weathered artifacts. There's mischievous spirits on them islands, I reckon.

Various - fabric 14: Stacey Pullen

Fabric: 2004

*cover art care of fabric's “chimeras are kewl” period*

Time trudges on, and fabric CDs continue their ever-gradual descent into super-affordable second-hand market territory. Why, I can actually be picky-choosy over which ones I pick up on the cheap now! No longer must I subject myself to dry, sandpaper minimal-tech mixes, when even the good stuff can be had for less than a fiver (while the bad stuff is pennies!). Thus I was giddy over seeing this Stacey Pullen set hit the Amazons. Sure, it's no Andrew Weatherall or John Peel or Carl Craig, but it ain't no Jon Marsh or Akufen or DJ Spinbad either. Just kidding, I don't know whether any of those are held in super high-esteem either. I mean, it's not like I've seen them as super cheap as other fabric CDs, including very recent ones.

I haven't had much opportunity to talk up Stacey Pullen, in that he hasn't dabbled in the producer's chair too often. A smattering of singles across a half-dozen aliases throughout the '90s, as any good Detroit native is obligated to do, but the DJing circuit is where he made his name, hitting up a few of the Very Important series in doing so: DJ-Kicks, RA, 2020 Vision, Balance. Wait, Balance? Isn't that a prog and tech-house series? What's a Detroit techno guy doing there?

Therein lies one of Mr. Pullen's claims to fame, a willingness to pull (herrr...) from genres not typically seen as Detroit Pure. Not to any radical sense, mind you, but enough such that he can play to many a fussy audience while still dropping that Motor City knowledge on their unsuspecting earholes. Just kidding, I'm almost certain folks going to see a touring Stacey fully expect it. Thus, it should come as no surprise that Fabric 14 sounds very much of the club it's promoting. A quick run through some bouncy 'ethnic' house to start, some deeper cuts with the obligatory soliloquy thrown in, then a jaunt through dubby tech-house that could be called prog if played by a prog DJ, but isn't because Mr. Pullen could never be a prog DJ, even on a Balance mix. There's a Peace Division track in this set, is what I'm getting at.

Stacey will forever be a Detroit guy though, and after spending half the CD hooking you in with the deep, dark, dub tech-prog, he abruptly changes gears into Moodyman's festive disco funk Music People. Then it's off to an older cut of Men With Sticks' proto tech-house cut 3rd Eye. They, um, aren't from Detroit. Neither is DiY (UK), Oscar (French), Dave Angel or Solid Groove (both UK). Ah, gotta' play the local heroes, I guess. Lots of deep tech in this final stretch too, but with some powa' in d'em beats. Overall, a fun CD highlighting much of what folks dig Pullen's eclectic style, and a worthy addition to the fabric tech-house legacy. Now, about that Balance set...

Pinch & Shackleton - Pinch & Shackleton

Honest Jon's Records: 2011

(a Patreon Request)

It wouldn't surprise me if this collaboration between Pinch and Shackleton had been counted upon to rescue dubstep from the clutches of bro-dom when it first came out (yes, another 'great hope' – there were a few of those). Here were two of the genre's founding fathers, a pair of producers who took the early concepts of dubby, minimalist bass music into mutant strains few knew what to make of at the time. It had those half-step rhythms and powerful low frequencies though, plus was getting rinsed out in haunts throughout the London underground, so it must be dubstep. Until it wasn't anymore, because dubstep officially became something almost diametrically opposite to this, save some scene lineage. Ah, reminds me of the good ol' trance-eurotrance wars, it does.

In any event, despite coming up through the dubstep ranks along similar paths, these 'future garage' guys never really crossed paths – probably didn't help that Shackleton had shacked up in Berlin while Pinch had pitched his tent in Bristol. Also, Shackleton had his own label to essentially self-release material with Appleblim (Skull Disco), while providing the odd tune for tech-house prints like Crosstown Rebels and Perlon. Meanwhile, Pinch was releasing stuff on his own Tectonic, with additional contributions to leftfield rhythms label Planet Mu. They had to cross roads eventually though (releasing fabric mixes about a year apart maybe helped), and thus the deed was done with this self-titled album, surprisingly both their official sophomore efforts in the long-player format (so sayeth Lord Discogs).

Even with but a skimming of each producer's output to this point, Pinch & Shackleton delivered mostly what I expected out of such a pairing. Surprisingly though, it offered something more, or rather something familiar that may have been incidentally arrived by both players. Or perhaps not, the roots of such dub production a genetic through-line since UK ravers were first transposing the sounds of Jamaican transplants into all manner of house, techno, downtempo, and 'ardcore. Still, I couldn't deny, hearing those tribal rhythms and samples, the stripped back songcraft, and the desire to explore between the sonic spaces, that I was getting some serious Sandoz and Bandulu flashbacks on this album (because it always comes back to them for my dubby tribal techno influences; PWoG, too).

I'm hesitant to say it's a one-for-one comparison though, as many tracks here could only have been made in a post-dubstep climate. The urgent opening build of Torn & Submerged, for instance, or the gnarly bass growl of Burning Blood, are the sorts of sonic markers that have been UK bass staples for over a decade now. Tracks that edge closer to tribal-techno's realm though (Jellybones, Levitation, Rooms Within A Room) could have been obscure '90s cuts, though definitely with finer production on hand. Yes, no matter how 'gritty and stripped' Pinch and Shackleton's aesthetic is to the modern ear, those overwhelming bass frequencies remain quite contemporary. Ain't nothing from 'back when' sounding this vast in my headphone space, nosiree.

Loop Guru - Amrita (...All These And The Japanese Soup Warriors) (2019 Update)

North South: 1995

(click here to read my original TranceCritic review)

It's been over half a decade since I last talked up Loop Guru, and I still haven't gathered any more of their albums. Not that they're super-hard to find or anything, most going for a tidy pop on the Amazon market now, but something keeps me from finally diving into their domain proper-like. Trepidation, that's it. A worry that they just won't live up to whatever expectation I have on them, even with the limited amount of exposure I've thus far provided myself. Wait, how is that even an excuse now? Most of their albums are also on Spotify (though not this one, oddly), so if I want to hear them to confirm my unfounded fears, I can at any time. No, there must be something else, something buried deep in my subconscious that's holding me back. I wonder what it is?

Actually, I think I know: no matter what, I will never recapture the feeling I had when I first heard Amrita. It's not a terribly significant event, but it's a vivid moment, furiously flashing across my memory membranes every time I hear Diwana or Often Again. It was a few months after I'd moved out on my own into Vancouver, and I'd just gotten this CD on one of my trips to an A&B Sound (RIP), intended for a TranceCritic review because why not.

Sometime in the wee minutes past midnight and feeling the buzz of a smoked bowl, I got the munchies and decided to walk the five blocks to a 7/11 for some snackables. As I'm strolling in the clear spring evening, the swinging tribal sounds of Loop Guru playing from my discman, I come to a startling revelation: I'm honestly and truly free, the boundless opportunities of bachelorhood open before me. I'm living in my own apartment, doing recreational drugs when I want without worry of neighbours or roommates, going for strolls in the middle of the night with nary a care or concern of where I wander, in a city I hadn't even dreamed to live in but a few years past. And this all dawned upon me while listening to this album. Now, I'm not saying it wouldn't have occurred to me if I hadn't been playing Amrita at the time, but I cannot deny something about the music here made everything click right in that moment.

And without a doubt, there is a freeing jubilation in Amrita, the sort of tribal exuberance that makes you want to kick off your shoes and dance up a dust storm in the sandy floors of an outdoor party. Yeah, Papasus and Fumi show their dubbier, chill side too, but damn, those drums in Gianyar! That chant in Yayli! That flute in Diwana! That rhythm in Sun! Can you blame me for being hesitant in exploring Loop Guru's discography further? How could anything else they do top such ebullience?

(sorry, that seems like the sort of cheeky word they'd use in liner notes)

Tuu - All Our Ancestors

Beyond/Waveform Records: 1994/1995

It's a strange thing, Tuu appearing on an 'ambient dub' label and all. Wouldn't they have made better sense on a New Age print? Perhaps, but the trio always floated around different musical circles than kooky mystic crystal worshippers. Their first album came out on the German print SDV Tonträger, more known for industrial sound experiments from the likes of Konrad Kraft and Jesus Drum. Meanwhile, knowing he'd have to do some serious hustle to get their band any sort of exposure, Martin Franklin would hawk Tuu's CDs and tapes in whatever stores would take them.

In the UK, that usually meant the underground joints where hardcore rave records were found aplenty. As luck/chance/fate would have it, Mr. Franklin ran into a label promoter in one such shop, where they shot the shit about what was what in the burgeoning chill-out scene flourishing in British afterhours venues. Just so happened that promoter was Mike Barnett, responsible for the seminal Beyond print, who already had a string of successful releases via the original Ambient Dub series. Sensing Tuu's style could add to Beyond's already broad downtempo pallete, they were brought on for a second album, All Our Ancestors. Then Waveform Records made it their second artist album release (after HIA's Colourform), and fourth overall. Man, talk about taking a gamble. Like, Tuu were well respected and all, but not exactly an act to sell a fledgling label with. Ah well, Loop Guru's Duniya was just around the corner anyway.

If you've forgotten exactly what Tuu sounds like (understandable, as I've only reviewed One Thousand Years many moons ago), they're a trio consisting of tribal drumming (bowls, pots), a single woodwind (typically flute), and some synthy pads and treatments. It's all very minimalist and haunting, as though you're listening to ritualistic meditative music from primitive cultures long since passed. All Our Ancestors doesn't do much to shake the formula, though when dealing with such a simple formula to start with, not much shaking can be done regardless. Compared to One Thousand Years, this album does see a little more involved songcraft, less about the lengthy hypnotic journeys compared to their debut.

Oddly, I find their music less engaging as a result. For sure all the familiar sounds and vibes are in All Our Ancestors, but the greater attention to musicianship doesn't draw me into the same hypnotic trance as compositions like Body Of Light and Pan America do. Those works, they instantly lodged in my headspace, and have remained there ever since. I sadly can't say the same for tracks like House Of The Waters or Rainfall here. My brain tells me these are technically better crafted pieces of music, with more intuitive sounds utilized. There's just something irresistible about the simplicity of their older works though. It's like, as a method of music that celebrates the most primitive of humanity's sonic artistry, it truly excels in its most uncomplicated form. And really, hasn't that always been ambient music at its best?

ACE TRACKS: November 2018

As I accumulate more and more music, certain trends start appearing, like preferred genres or running themes among cover art (so many pictures of Saturn). One thing I hadn't counted, however, was having far more items of certain years compared to others. 1995 in particular has remained top dog for as long as I've noticed this trend, although the years 2015 and 2007 are often nipping at its heels. By comparison, 2005 has been abysmal for my CD collection, the only competitors being its neighbouring years of 2004 and 2006. That is, if you don't include anything prior to 1993, the year I started buying my own music, and when electronic music really started taking off in my far flung corner of the world. Maybe if I go on a binge of hair metal or protest folk, my stacks of older decades will start looking more buff, but that'd dilute the electronic purity I've cultivated all these years.

Anyhow, I've mentioned this curiosity many times before, and I just assumed it being a case of the mid-'90s being awesome for electronic music, the mid-'00s being shite for electronic music, and the mid-'10s being resurgently awesome for electronic music. In simpler language, there was more dope music in 1995 than any other time, or at least that which I've consistently gone back to. I've posited this theory on the TranceAddict forums, and it seems I'm not alone in noticing this, some there realizing their Discoggian 'Want List' is rather slight for 2005 and its compatriots. Hell, the only reason I figure 2007 is so beefy in my archives is due to the all the reviews I was writing for TranceCritic around that time.

Does anyone else notice this within their own music collections, certain years being heavy favorites over others? Like, I assume this is only something folks with 500+ items spanning a few decades would at all, but I am curious nonetheless. Food for thought while y'all check out the ACE TRACKS for this past November.


Full track list here.


MISSING ALBUMS:
Supercar - Futurama
Alien Project - Activation Portal

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 0%
Percentage Of Rock: 8%
Most “WTF?” Track: Guess the Ab Fab single, for its mere existence.

Wow, this one turned out remarkably well! It's almost a proper playlist, and not just some arbitrary arrangement of select tunes I was listening to these past thirty days. I didn't even notice how similar Rapoon's The Same River Once and Sven Vath's Ritual Of Life were until being alphabetically paired together like that. And there's quite a few sections like that here. While I mostly make these things for my own use, I wouldn't hesitate to recommend this one to anyone who's curious about a sampling of the sort of music I generally cover here. Yes, even the music I was requested to review!

L.B. Dub Corp - Unknown Origin

Ostgut Ton: 2013

L.B. Dub Corp is Luke Slater, whom I've mentioned in the past as being a Very Important Person in the world of techno, primarily for his work as Planetary Assault Systems. Following the turn of the century, however, he put that project on hiatus, focusing his attention elsewhere (DJing, label managing, misplaced stabs at crossover material). During this period, he released a couple EPs cashing in on that trendy dub techno action of the mid-'00s, this here alias its outlet. They didn't garner much attention, and L.B. Dub Corp would likely have been left a footnote within Mr. Slater's discography.

At the start of this decade though, Luke signed a deal with techno tastemaker Ostgut Ton, reviving P.A.S. in the process. Folks got super-hype in his output after that, giving him enough clout with the Berghain print to release more material from his side project too, the result of which being this here debut L.B. Dub Corp album Unknown Origin. And a good thing too, because we can always use more music in the Bandulu stylee these days.

Wait, isn't L.B. Dub Corp a dub techno thing, as is in the Basic Channel stylee? At first, yes, when doing Basic Channel clones was all cool an' hip, but there's plenty of those, and Slater wasn't adding much to the discourse making it. Nah, 'tis a far better thing to do, exploring the tribal side of dub techno when so few ever do anymore.

And Luke doesn't waste time letting you know where this album's heading. Opener Take A Ride gets in on a shuffly, broken dub rhythm with husky whispers uttered from famed rasta poet Benjamin Zephaniah. Nearly Africa and Ever And Forever lay out a bobbin', minimalist grooves, echoing chants, dubby pianos, and spaced-out synth leads. Elsewhere, L.B.'s Dub offers up some vintage heavy Bandulu rhythms, while No Trouble In Paradise inches things back to the lands of Detroit without ever losing that tribal dub fell. To close out with I Have A Dream, an opulent tribal-dub sermon with Zephaniah preaching celebrating multiculturalism, I can't think of a better vibe to end a record on. Shame Mr. Slater doesn't, then.

Four more tracks take us out of Unknown Origin, but they don't have much in common with the Afro-tekno that cames before. Turner's House and Generation To Generation stick to classic Detroit vibes, while Any Time Will Be OK reminds us that L.B. Dub Corp was a serious dub techno project at one point. Roller with Function sounds like a something initially intended for the P.A.S. albums, but contains enough of a dubby, tribal thrum to warrant inclusion here. None of these are deal breakers for this record, just less interesting paths taken compared to the unconventional roads the first half of explored. Considering we haven't seen any new L.B. Dub Corp material in the half-decade since Unknown Origin's release, maybe this was all Luke needed to make to satisfy that Afro-dub techno itch he had niggling at his muse.

Various - United DJs Of America Presents: Murk Starring In Miami Vice

DMC: 1999

This series is being screwy again. No where on the cover or the inlay does it tell you this is Vol. 12 of United DJs Of America. I could understand if they'd be reluctant to include the number if it was Vol. 13, but for whatever reason, DMC/Mixer decided this was the point they were to break with tradition. No more numerical volumes. Glorious gimmick cover art of the DJs involved. Reduce their series logo to a footnote (well, for the UK version of this release). Dammit, they rented that Lamborghini and retro suits for the photo shoot, and they're gonna' make sure you see them in all their glory! Naturally, United DJs Of America went back to basics with Vol. 13, never doing such a gimmicked release again.

Anyone worth their house-salt knows who Murk is. Oscar Gaetan and Ralph Falcon have been staples of the American scene since the early '90s, establishing their own Murk Records to self-release vinyl under various aliases. When house music was struggling to figure out what to do next, the Murk Boys took the vibes of Chicago and added a deep, sexy Miami bump 'n' grind aesthetic to it, eventually leading to what's often referred to as 'tribal house'. All the big proponents of it – Danny Tenaglia, Steve Lawler, Roger Sanchez – always namedrop Murk as highly influential in the development of their rinsing style.

The one United DJs Of America trend Vol. 12: Miami Vice does maintain is being the the debut commercial DJ mix for the chosen jock(s). So to it is with Murk, although they were mostly known as record makers rather than record spinners. Still, I'm sure they hosted plenty of nights throughout South Florida (and New York), so they have some experience behind the decks.

And they don't do anything to dash expectations. The thick, heavy, sweaty, tribal rhythms hit you early, and remain steady, familiar names like Peace Division, Krome Avenue, Eddie Amador, and Kings Of Tomorrow all weapons in Murk's arsenal. Also, Pete Heller's huge anthem Big Love is on here, one of the earliest CDs to get a feature. This was ridiculously overplayed by the year 2000, but many years removed from it now, it all comes flooding back why everyone went apeshit over this – at least until Daft Punk's One More Time completely changed the game. Anyhow, if you like yourselves a Tenaglia set that isn't quite so silky smooth, you'll dig Murk's contribution to this series.

Obviously the cover art invites a guest review spot from Crockett and Tubbs of Miami Vice fame, but I know which individual y'all really want to hear from, the infamous Tony Montana (aka: Scarface). Have at you, mang'.

Tony: Ay, this [bleep] mix is [bleep] alright, right? Murk Boys, they [bleeep] all day long, and when they [bleeep] the [bleeep] club with [bleeeeep] records, them sexy [bleeep] chicas and [bleeep] with [bleeep]. They proof of [bleeeeeeeep] American dream, livin' [bleeep] and well.

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.

Paleowolf - Genesis

Cryo Chamber: 2016

Holy cow, what are the odds of this happening? Yeah, I've come across a couple instances of it in this endless excursion through my music collection. Eurythmics and Michael Mayer both had LPs called Touch, Moby and Märtini Brös have albums called Play, and Labyrinth is shared by both Juno Reactor and the Namlook-Montanà collaborations (teaser!). It hasn't come up often though, which is interesting in of itself. Either my 1300+ sample size isn't large enough to draw conclusions, or musicians are more creative with their album titles than I thought. Still, that doesn't dissuade the astounding fact that, within the very small sample size of 'Sykonee's 2017 Summer Purchases', I ended up with two albums titled Genesis. There's even a tribal vibe between the two, but the similarities end there.

Paleowolf is another dark ambient prospect called up from the farm leagues for a Cryo Chamber tryout. Heh, not really – it's actually a side-project from one Scorpio V, who made a couple critically-hailed albums for Cryo Chamber as Metatron Omega. That one leans into the ritualistic side of the genre, and Paleowolf does as well, though with a significant primeval bent. We're well before any human civilization, folks, times about as tribal as we've ever been. Not even a series of ravaged ruins to explore in this primitive setting – mankind probably hasn't even figured out how to make a fur hut yet!

The Paleowolf project is four albums deep now (ooh, that Megafauna Rituals has nifty artwork!), first appearing on Echoes Of Koliba Productions with Primordial. Genesis is his second album, adding Cryo Chamber one more sub-micro genre of dark ambient to its ever-expanding canvas. Gotta' fill all the niches, amirite?

Actually, the trick worked, as I cannot deny being at least curious about this stuff. How it relates to other forms of dark ambient? What sort of sounds might creep in when the genre has a heavy reliance of twisting recognizable field recordings into perverse parodies? Whether Cryo Chamber's record of 'cinematic drone' would translate well in a primordial realm, placing me among hunter-gatherers as we prepare for fire rituals, mammoth slaying, and cave bear evading. Oh, of course the latter would be the case!

So you get lots of tribal drumming throughout Genesis, some placing you in the thick of things, others echoing off distant valley mountains obscured by Ice Age fog. Plenty of deep-throated, meditating chants too, with an additional war chant for Hunter II. Some compositions use primitive instruments, like horns in Archaic Eon, and a didgeridoo in Eastern Tribes. And yes, a couple electronic sounds crop up as well, mostly in the form of droning tones, treated effects to voice chants, and subtle melodic touches from synth-pads. Still, they don't distract from the overall feeling of hanging out with neolithic peoples, eating charred Megaloceros meat, and wondering whether death will come from a sabre-cat attack, a competing tribe from over the mountain, or that strange wall of ice inching closer every day.

Refracted - Through The Spirit Realm

Silent Season: 2015

Eh? What's this? I'm still hearing the theme to It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia playing? But... I already made my excuses in the review of Lingua Lustra's Source, a perfectly valid reason for 'springing' on a digital version of a release despite my steadfast mandate that I'll always go hard copy over digital: I initially got it for as a free download, then picked up the CD in a bulk deal from the label. See, perfectly legit. I've remained honest and true in my proclamation of never buying digital if a physical option remains. *Always Sunny In Philadelphia plays, now with title “Sykonee Buys A Digital Version Of A Vinyl Release”*

Oh, fine, 'tis true I caved on this one, but Silent Season is so good at twisting my rubber arm, don't you know. They actually sent out a Bandcamp discount through email, so I figured where's the harm in indulging one of their releases that came out in a physical medium I know I'll never buy. I mean, there's always the ultra-slim chance I might find one of their earlier CDs at a 'reasonable' price on the open market (haha, ha), but vinyl? Oh, Hell no! I don't dare start on the Black Crack addiction. Then again, I caved on my 'never digital' stance in this particular instance – who's to say I won't some day break to vinyl's ever-seductive gleam, its promises of audio fidelity grand and pure... NO! Must... resist...

Refracted is Alex Moya, a relative newcomer to the world of techno. He made his vinyl debut with Silent Season, on the 2013 EP Along A Ghostly Trail, following on that a couple years later with a debut album in Through The Spirit Realm. For some reason, it didn't click for me this was an LP (or 2x12”), figuring I'd simply be getting a single as most records from Silent Season go. It's rather pricey of the fiercely independent print to press wax of this sort, is what I'm saying. But yeah, five tracks hovering around the seven minute mark, an experimental shorty about three-and-a-half, and a ten-plus minute closer - I'd say this constitutes a proper LP.

As we're dealing with Silent Season, you bet the style of techno Mr. Moya brings us is deep, dubby, and filled with field recordings. It's also remarkably tribal, tracks like We Arrive, The Ritual Begins, and the titular cut getting my Psychik Warriors Ov Gaia triggers going. Right, it's not exactly like the PWoG we all know and love – none of that renegade grit in this mixdown – but the techno-kraft is close enough for me to dig it. The two tracks that bookend Through The Spirit Realm are more on that ambient trip though, which is fine if you like your subtle lush pads flush with sounds of the jungle and approaching thunderstorms. Still feels weird trading such rainforest fauna from that which Silent Season's more known for. Unless you wander the Amazon exhibit in the Vancouver Aquarium anyway.