Tricky - Maxinquaye

Island Records: 1995

Tricky was my first exposure to trip-hop, via Deep Forest of all groups. The world beat duo provided music for the 1995 cyberpunk thriller Strange Days, and Teenage Sykonee being the throes of ethno-pop at the time, eagerly checked the movie out. Cannot deny I was also quite intrigued by the Kathryn Bigelow film on its concept, a look into the near future of the year 2000, and what the End Of The Millennium might hold.

It seems so quaint now, the fear that things would somehow catastrophically and abruptly end just after 11:59pm of December 31, 1999, and I’m not just talking that silly Y2K Bug thing. Nay, Strange Days depicted a society where, with the right kind of angle, seemed on the verge of utter collapse, a powder keg of racial strife and decadent decay, easily lit with but a single, reckless act of senseless, bigoted brutality. I have to admit Ms. Bigelow teased such an eruption so expertly throughout the movie, I actually believed the prophetic Millennial Apocalypse was nigh at the movie’s climax. Yet, clearer heads prevailed, the ‘eruption’ but a ‘scritch’ overall. Ms. Bigelow was smart, knowing Y2K paranoia was much ado about nothing. No, the real problems wouldn’t start until 16 years after! (Sorry, but it’s difficult not getting topical and political right now)

Tricky’s debut Maxinquaye is hailed as one of the shining moments of trip-hop’s mid-‘90s peak, in large part because it’s barely a trip-hop album at all. True, he helped Massive Attack set the template of the genre, and there’s definitely some all-time classic trip-hop class on here. Overcome, the opening track - and tune featured in the Strange Days soundtrack (relevancy!) – works a sultry, dubby, tribal thump, losing itself in the grit of inner city lust and doubt. Aftermath, his debut single, was initially intended for Massive Attack, but the lads behind Attack said ‘nay’ to that one, a shame because it would have fit marvelously into their canon.

That rejection, plus feeling generally stagnant within the group, prompted Tricky to pursue his solo ventures. He had plenty of ideas in his head, but not much production capability on his own though. Enter producer Mark Saunders, who somehow stitched together Tricky’s wayward muse into comprehensible music. Soul, punk, hip-hop, dub, and all manner of sample-heavy abstraction fill Maxinquaye, leaving you unsure where it’s going at any given time. The vocal dynamic between Tricky’s subdued conscious raps and cooing of singer/life partner Martina Topley-Bird fuels the sense of life on the skids, a scattershot collage of hopes and paranoia, lust and despair.

I probably can’t prop this album up any more than the UK press did at the time (holy cow, the hyperbole!), but as one of the seminal trip-hop albums of the era, this “not trip-hop” record definitely earned its spot among the Blue Lines and Dummys. It’s confrontational compared to the others, but that makes it all the more intriguing as a whole, as you decrypt the angst within.

The Groove Corporation - Co-Operation

6 X 6 Records: 1994/1995

Another one of the great “what ifs?” of emergent UK house music, Electribe 101 was primed for crossover triumph. Talented musicians in the studio, a bourgeoning starlet in Billy Ray Martin on vocals, and Tom Watkins as their management (he of Pet Shop Boys’ success) – what could go wrong? After a strong debut album in Electribal Memories, things fell apart, including a Depeche Mode support tour that had fans booing them off stage. So it goes in this business though, and the players went their separate ways, Billy Ray Martin finding fame as a solo artist, and the remnants of Electribe 101 rebranding themselves as the reggae roots loving group Groove Corporation. And because the future G.Corp had a fondness of the dubbier side of that music, they fell in with the trendy ambient dub scene of the early ‘90s – having their studio in that movement’s home of Birmingham didn’t hurt either.

A couple early efforts on Beyond’s seminal Ambient Dub series gave Groove Corporation some underground buzz. They soon signed to the newly formed 6 x 6 Records (they of Sasha & Digweed’s Renaissance fame), their Passion E.P. giving them even greater buzz with the progressive house contingent. Things looked mighty good for the boys of G.Corp when Co-Operation finally dropped in 1994. It’s got the reggae soul, dubby-hop, and just enough crossover appeal for a record out in 1991. Ah, whoops, sorry, guys, but have you heard what Leftfield and Massive Attack were up to around this time? Kinda’ puts your sound a bit out of touch, no matter how classy it all comes off.

Things never get to ‘cod reggae’ levels on this album, but tracks like Showtime, How Did It Come To This, Rain, Twist & Change, and You feel strictly aimed for a little chart action. Can’t believe the UK was too fussed for these sounds anymore, especially from a group initially gaining its critical plaudits well away from the mainstream. Some of their proggy house tunes do make the cut (Roots Controller, Hypnotherapy, Passion), while others get right proper with the reggae dub action (Pray, This Is How I Stay, Ghetto Prayer), so Co-Operation does have a nice blend of both for favored parties of either or.

Still, maybe Groove Corporation suspected they were leaving their ambient dub followers in the dust with an album with such pop leanings, hence a limited edition version including a second CD of such music. This is where G.Corp’s in their element, tunes originating or remixed into dub instrumentals before repurposed with vocals on the Album Prime. Folks liked this bonus disc so much that Groove Corporation re-released it as an independent album with a couple additional tracks a few years after the fact, called Co-Operation Dub. Seems most of the group’s early compilation duty comes from this CD (A Voyage On The Marie-Celeste, Return Of The Skunk Unlimited Orchestra, Ghettoprayer (Deep Blue Dub)). Hm, maybe that’s why I have a bias towards it.

Massive Attack - Blue Lines

Virgin: 1991/2012

So Blue Lines, the album that kicked off Tricky’s career. Yeah, sorry for the lame intro, but all the good ones were used in the past two decades. The “Few Records Deserve The ‘Seminal’ Tag, But This One Truly Does” angle; the “Once In A Blue Moon, A New Genre Is Born” take; the “Would Bristol Be Such A Prominent ‘90s Music Hub Without Blue Lines?” thinkpiece; a “If You Listen To Five Man Army Carefully, You Can Hear Subliminal Banksy Messages!” waffle. But man, that Tricky guy, where would he be without Massive Attack? Like, I’m sure he’d have gotten an album or two under his belt regardless, but his work with this group certainly gave him a boost.

Okay, enough malarkey on my part. Let’s talk about this most important record in trip-hop history, despite it barely having any trip-hop in it at all. There’s definitely early aspects of the genre lurking throughout – tracks like Five Man Army, Daydreaming, and One Love feature that slow, hazy mood the genre built its reputation on. This is more a product of Massive Attack incorporating several urban influences into their sound though, which included reggae dub popularized by many a Jamaican expat residing in London. And while Bristol’s music scene was generally their own thing, the dudes behind Massive Attack were more than familiar with what was what in the elsewheres of their country. All that time as part of The Wild Bunch sound system crew provided plenty exposure to various musical movements, leading to the varied genre blending heard throughout Blue Lines. Not just the spliff-heavy hip-hop, but R&B, reggae, funk, and soul find their way inside this tidy nine-tracker of a record, often within the same song. It’s easy to hear why music journalists were creaming their pants over this album, thrilled at hearing so many classy forms of music expertly fused into a groovy whole.

And yet I wonder, was this really that big a deal back in the early ‘90s? Seems every second British album from across the spectrum was doing something radically different in genre fusion. I’ll grant adding dub production to hip-hop beats was unique compared to what America was doing, but this wasn’t exclusive to trip-hop in the slightest: ambient, house, techno, R&B (rock?), all got in on that action too. More often than not, Massive Attack stick to conventional music, sparingly pushing the boundaries into uncharted territory. Be Thankful For What You’ve Got is the sort of UK soul peddled for a few years then. Unfinished Sympathy, the breakout single of the album, has New Jack Swing going for it, though obviously drenched in gospel charm.

Still, if those are about the only nitpicks I can fault Blue Lines for, then this album’s reputation is more than deserved. Considering many ‘dance’ albums from this era are way dated, this one easily stands the test of time, its multitude of influences making it a timeless piece of music.

Boards Of Canada - Twoism

Music70/Warp Records: 1995/2002

I have difficulty thinking of Twoism as part of the official Boards Of Canada long-player lexicon, for no better reason than it initially wasn’t. After the rousing success of Music Has The Right To Children, it wasn't long befor legions of new fans with melted youthful hearts were digging for anything else from the Scottish duo. Savvy heads already knew of their initial EP on Skam, Hi Scores, but word soon spread of a treasure trove of older, ultra-rare material lurking in the shadows of obscurest realms. Some of these are so rare, their very existence is continuously called into question - considering a lack of bootlegs or credible internet uploads, not an unfounded notion. The web always finds a way of unearthing music, always.

For a brief time, Twoism was among these mythical artifacts. Story goes the early Boards recordings were limited to tapes circulated among family and friends, but Twoism received a slightly larger distribution via vinyl. Mind, this was still self-released on their Music70 print, with a mere one-hundred copies pressed, but at least there were confirmed physical records out there, exchanging collector’s hands for pounds of quid (that the saying, right? Help me out, Brits!). Well, these Boards Of Canada were having none of that – why should the trader’s market profit from something they themselves could make bank off? Thus, Twoism saw a proper re-issue on Warp Records, sending those who took out mortgages to own the original wax weeping into the English moors. Or not, those initial pressings undoubtedly still commanding ridiculous sums from the discerning collector. Still, how nice us plebs get to enjoy this music too.

Given the near-cultish fanbase Boards Of Canada developed, it’s no surprise this was a highly sought record. Fortunately, such digging efforts were rewarded with an album that captures the Boards spirit as capably as any of their other LPs. For sure it’s more simplistic compared to what came after, most of their beats the barest of hip-hop rhythms. Meanwhile, the melodies stick to basic, lengthy loops of layered synth and timbre, with very little songcraft exhibited beyond what’s established early in a track. Still, those synth tones… every bit as warm, fuzzy, charming, nostalgic, day-glowy, and other descriptors you’ve read countless times in a BoC review. I could probably eat up my entire self-imposed word-count rattling them all off.

A couple things differentiates Twoism from their later work though, most notably the tracks Iced Cooly and Basefree. Both harkens to IDM’s earlier years, the former a bouncy electro jaunt, the latter an abrasive drill-beat number that sounds unlike anything in the Boards’ official canon. Still finding their way, clearly the lads from Hexagon Sun are. Also, the sound quality of their productions is rougher here, but that’s expected of an early album.

That’s all I have to say about Twoism. It was an album deemed ‘must-have’ back when it was rare as unicorn shit, and thanks to the Warp reissue, everyone can have it. Yay!

Boards Of Canada - Trans Canada Highway (Original TC Review)

Warp Records: 2006

(2016 Update:
Another first-time review of a major act, another review with redundant information now that I've long since reviewed many more albums from said act. At least I didn't get too heavy into it with this EP, providing an obligatory (if flakey) backstory, with a thrown in theory to boot. It's a good theory, my thoughts on the Boards' popularity, but one that had already been floating around, namely that of 'hauntology'. A rather obscure term, Simon Reynolds really explored it in describing the aesthetic of acts like Boards Of Canada (among others like Burial and label Ghost Box). Not that I had any realization of that in here, a decade ago, but yeah, totally reiterating concepts with far more studies into them by people who get paid for such things.

Left Side Drive just might be my favorite Boards tune, though you wouldn't know from this review. Seems every time I hear it again, it draws me ever deeper into that warm bass and distant dub, losing my headspace in reflections of traversing British Columbian wilderness. It's like Silent Season distilled into five minutes of sonic bliss, and so worth repeated plays of this pleasant little EP. Hey, remember when we thought this might be the last thing Boards would ever release? Fun times!)


IN BRIEF: Traveling in Canada.

I’ve seen few fanbases grow as quickly, as widespread, and as fanatical as for the enigmatic group Boards Of Canada. Appearing seemingly out of nowhere when Warp released their album Music Has The Right To Children, they gave an ailing intelligent techno scene (or IDM, if you will) a much needed boost in the late 90s when many producers had either tried and failed at commercial success (‘electronica’) or plummeted into incomprehensible experimentation. BoC provided the antidote: interesting sonic experiments, but without abandoning digestible rhythms and melodies.

It was more than that though. BoC’s music contains an undeniable nostalgic tinge to it. Many have tried to explain how they do it but none have managed to come up with a concrete theory; which, along with a scarce back catalogue, has added to their mystique.

I won’t claim to have that answer either, but I will offer my own theory: Boards Of Canada create the music of memories. Not yours, or mine, or anyone’s in particular, but of memories itself; or rather, how we hear music in our own memories. Despite our best efforts, when music plays back in our minds it is never quite accurate, and clings at the edge of our consciousness, fading over time. BoC’s lo-fi production seems to replicate this remarkably well, and when warm, pleasing synth tones are used, childhood memories are instinctively thought of. With such universal appeal, its little wonder even indie rockers melt at hearing a Boards Of Canada melody.

Of course, BoC shouldn’t be restrained by single musical ideas, but this is where their main appeal lies. After delving into organic instrumentation on last year’s The Campfire Headphase, many of their fans were very happy to hear a return to the sound of Children on this release, Trans Canada Highway. But despite being less a single for Dayvan Cowboy (of which two versions bookend this) and more of a mini-album, there’s still very little new material that’ll satisfy their rabid fans.

For casual fans though, two tracks should interest them: Left Side Drive and Skyliner. Unlike Dayvan, which willfully makes use of orchestral arrangements and acoustic guitars along with various electronic trickery, these two are quite vintage in their production. Left Side Drive lets lazy, dubby rhythms stroll along while warm, hazy pads float in the background. And Skyliner makes a more immediate presence with quicker scattering rhythms and leading synths. While perhaps simple in their presentation, especially compared to Dayvan, both should satisfy if you crave BoC’s older style. The other two are merely ambient interludes, which are common in many of their albums. Pleasant enough, but hardly essential.

As for the remix of Dayvan, Odd Nosdam does the drone ambient thing, seemingly playing up the ‘memory’ aspect of BoC’s music with one of their own tracks. Between stretches of white noise interludes, bits of Dayvan crop up, then fades away before returning to droning sounds. An interesting listen but, like the other ambient parts of Trans Canada Highway, that is all.

Ultimately, this EP is a sparse, lonely listen, which makes sense given the title. As anyone that has driven the Trans Canada Highway can attest to, or any highway in lightly populated areas of Canada for that matter, it can be a lonesome experience (great scenery though). Having grown up in parts of the country where significant towns are often up to three hours apart, I’d travel long stretches of winding, single-lane roads snaking across mountain-sides and through forests, the only company being those in your car and the intermittent vehicle passing by. Trans Canada Highway, when listened to as a whole, uncannily replicates such a trip... or maybe that’s just that memory thing again. Still, for a Scottish duo, they are quite good at capturing aspects of Canadiana along with incredibly nostalgic music.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2006. © All rights reserved.

ACE TRACKS: June 2016

Guess what! I’ve reached the ‘Tr’s of my epic, endless journey through music I own, so you know what that means: it’s time to kick off a Summer Of Trance! Okay, ‘summer’ is pushing it some, but at least a July’s worth, especially if we include items through ‘trans’. Finally though, all of my trancecracker glories and fails will come to light, everything I own that’s trance. Except for the releases that started with ‘Goa’ or ‘Psy’. And all those In Trance We Trust mixes too, I guess. Plus anything that had ‘trance’ in its title, just not the start, come to think of it. Hell, even some releases that didn’t have ‘trance’ at all, like A Day On Our Planet or Dreamland or Ideas From the Pond or Rendezvous In Outer Space. Fine, this upcoming bundle of trance is but a fraction of the total amount floating about my stores of CDs. Trust me though, after a month of this, you’ll be begging for variety. Gangsta rap, psychedelic rock, minimal derp-haus, anything! Or hey, whatever’s on this ACE TRACKS playlist for June 2016. Yes, nailed the segueway!



Full track list here.


MISSING ALBUMS:
Various - Toronto Mix Sessions: Kenny Glasgow
Various - Trade: Past Present Future

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 2%
Percentage of Rock: 34%
Most “WTF?” Track: The Archies - Sugar, Sugar (how do I suddenly have diabetes after listening to this song!?? …but seriously, another Dronny Darko piece is the answer)

Not quite as eclectic as these past couple months, as I mostly spent June wrapping up backlog before carrying on with ‘T’ albums. Heavier on the folky, alternative, and indie rock than anything else, but also got into familiar territory again with trip-hop, d’n’b, techno, and Neil Young. Really not much else to say about this playlist, because TRANCE is coming, man! TRANCE!

Various - Tracks From The Best Dance Albums Of All Time

Muzik Magazine: 2002

Best tracks of all time? Pft, everyone does those, Mixmag in fact doing the deed just a few months prior to this issue of Muzik Magazine. Figuring out what the best long-players of dance culture, however, was apparently something no one did before, so claimed the editor’s blurb within. Given how inundated with such lists we now are, I find that hard to believe, but then it’s not like electronic music had as long a history as rock did. By the year 2002, EDM journalism was barely a decade old, most rags giving their dutiful Best Of The Year lists and leaving it at that. Still, those darn winter months, they’re slow for news, so here’s a trusty cliché article to get through February.

The list is actually interesting, even if the choices are rather predictable. Each producer or act is offered a lone entry, their definitive release as it were; except The KLF, both albums Chill Out and White Room making the cut, because they’re The K-L-f’n-F, y’heard. Obvious albums like Leftism, Sheet One, Dubnobasswithmyheadman, and Dummy rub shoulders with artifacts like Kraftwerk’s Trans-Europe Express, Soft Cell’s Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret, Throbbing Gristle’s 20 Jazz Funk Greats, and Grace Jones’ Nightclubbing. Then-current hits like Felix Da Housecat’s Kittens & Thee Glitz and Roots Manuva’s Run Come Save Me share space with old classics like Depeche Mode’s Violator and Soul II Soul’s Club Classics Volume One. Hip hop gets its due with Missy Elliot, Eminem, and Public Enemy representing. And while I generally agree with Muzik’s selections, no doubt others will find contention with the chosen LPs of the scene’s biggest names. Reverence over Sunday 8pm? Blue Lines over Mezzanine? Exit Planet Dust over Dig Your Own Hole? Play over Everything Is Wrong? Accelerator over Lifeforms? Ima over ESCM? Selected Ambient Works 85-92 over Selected Ambient Works Volume 2? Ray Of Light over anything else in Madonna’s discography?

I could go on and on about this list, but self-imposed word count dictates I must talk about the free CD Muzik included with this issue. Yeah, it’s a good collection of tunes, a decent enough representation of the list without having to break the bank with licensing fees. As DJ Shadow’s Endtroducing….. scored the top honors, it’s only appropriate his track What Does Your Soul Look Like kicks things off. From there we get some bleep techno courtesy of LFO, some collage shenanigans courtesy of Negativland, and some trip-hop action from Tricky. Pet Shop Boys’ Can You Forgive Her? is given a deep house rub by MK (or, as the kids call this style now, ‘future house’), Timber from Coldcut & Hexstatic provide the requisite Ninja Tune showing, while Rae & Christian’s Swansong (For A Nation) sends us out.

Also, holy cow, UK bias much with this disc? Out of the eleven tracks, seven hails from the UK, three reside in the USA, and a lone Icelandic lady round out the rest. I bet she could beat them all at soccer.

Coldcut - Tone Tales From Tomorrow Too

Ntone: 1996

This is one damn weird CD. For sure you can glean that just from the cover art, a bizarre bit of ‘90s CGI that looks like something out of a SNES fever dream. But did you know this is a Coldcut DJ mix? Seeing as how More and Black don’t often dip their fingers into the realms of mix CDs, you’d think Tone Tales From Tomorrow Too would get more attention. Heck, this came out just a year after 70 Minutes Of Madness, a set many hail as one of the finest mixes committed to disc of the ‘90s. Their mighty successful album Let Us Play! was also just around the calendar corner. For all intents this little CD was on the market at peak Coldcut prominence, so shouldn’t it be talked up just as much? Yeah, maybe if it’d been marketed through Ninja Tune, that might have been the case. Rather, Tone Tales From Tomorrow Too was a showcase of sub-label Ntone, in fact the second of a short-lived promotional series. Because the “Too” is supposed to be “Two”, get it? Hell, if you think the title’s strained alliteration is something else, you should read the inlay blurb.

Naturally, I knew none of this going in. Tone Tales From Tomorrow Too was one of my earliest ‘underground’ purchases, joined with the knowledge drop of Techno Nights – Ambient Dawn and taste-changing One A.D. Thus I had no clue who Coldcut was, much less any of the other names on the tracklist. My only requisite for a buy was cool-strange cover art (check!), and a ton of unknowns I could discover. Names like Neoptropic, Hex, Transcend, Spacetime Continuum, and Alien Community certainly fit the bill, all with abstract future-sounding song titles like 50cc, 2003, Dubmunculus, and Alien Community. Why, this must be one of those Very Important Albums in my musical journey then! Maybe, if it wasn’t such an odd collection of tunes.

Ntone was essentially Ninja Tune’s outlet for leftfield music: druggy trip-hop, dubby techno, and dreamy stoner ambient, which Tone Tales From Tomorrow Too delivers in full force. It was all a bit much to take in for Teenage Sykonee, a larger leap into the underground than he was ready for. It didn’t help matters that the entire mix is a single index, so if I wanted to hear more of that wicked-awesome sci-fi electro of Alien Community or Spacetime Continuum’s Pressure, I had to play out most of the CD to get there. Heck, for the longest time I thought these were the same track, though the stylistic similarities make sense given Jonah Sharp is behind both aliases (Alien Community was a pairing with Pete Namlook).

Why would Coldcut do such a thing? Their mix isn’t filled with lengthy layered blends, most tracks transitioned as per normal for a chill set. It’s because of that CD-ROM app, isn’t it; the clunky turntable mixer with samples from various tracks? Aww, I thought the extra media was gonna’ be trippy CGI videos.

Massive Attack - Mezzanine

Virgin: 1998

The only Massive Attack album you probably have, despite many critics pointing to their other albums as the ones you’re supposed to have. Not sure what the consensus between Blue Lines and Protection is, though I’m almost certain the group’s (duo’s?) post-millennium material is generally held in lesser regard than Mezzanine. This one smacks right in the middle of the transition, but due to the super aggressive marketing the mighty Virgin machine did for the album, critics can’t help themselves in being contrarian, pointing to an earlier effort as the definitive Massive Attack experience. Back when they were still a tightly-knit band that included burgeoning vocalist wunderkind Tricky as part of their roster. Back when they were laying the groundwork for an entire genre, and not simply cashing in when trip-hop was at its peak of prominence.

Hah, no, Mezzanine isn’t a cash-in, though Massive Attack definitely got mad paid here. Angel and Teardrop are among the most heavily licensed tracks in their discography, only losing out to Unfinished Sympathy for top honors; and that one had a seven year start on these two. On the other hand, additional singles Risingson and Inertia Creeps weren’t anywhere near as successful, the latter failing to chart even in the UK. Considering how trendy trip-hop was in the late ‘90s, with Teardrop hitting Top 10 in Massive Attack’s homeland that same year, it’s surprising such popularity didn’t translate into further success for their singles. D’at album sales number, tho’! Were Teardrop and Angel enough to propel Mezzanine into the stratosphere of platinum accolades? Yeah, but all those critical awards the album earned after needed strong songs to prop it up, and we have those in spades too.

Right, I quipped Mezzanine not being as critically hailed as their earlier records, but Massive Attack didn’t earn those ‘one of the greatest bands of all time’ plaudits in a vacuum. When tasked against their contemporaries, the original Bristol posse was nigh untouchable, always uttered with just that extra bit of reverence when compared to the likes of Portisehead and Morcheeba. The fact Massive Attack could come in at trip-hop’s apogee and release such a smooth flowing, densely dark album like Mezzanine is nothing less than brilliance. In lieu of the multitude of copycats, Robert del Naja (Mr. 3D) desired taking the group closer to the realms of post-rock - out of the domain of dubby-thick hip-hop that defined the genre they’d built. The move paid off, broadening the band’s appeal into the world of indie music and movie scores. It also gave them room to further explore their sound, fusing gritty guitar tones and cinematic flourishes with their vintage big beats, dense reverb, and somber urban soul, generally keeping each track fresh and unique throughout for a required playthrough.

Not everyone was on board with this development, original member Andrew “Mushroom” Vowles leaving Massive Attack after this. The enduring popularity and lasting legacy of Mezzanine suggests ol’ 3D was onto something special though. Dream on.

Various - Techno Nights Ambient Dawn (2016 Update)

EMI: 1995

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.)

Easily the funniest thing about that old review is how much I'm dropping the acronym 'EDM' throughout, like it's become the acceptable alternative to the old catch-all term 'electronica'. Over a decade ago though, it really was, even if mostly limited to online discussion in web forums; a handy short-form since continuously typing 'electronic dance music' was much too cumbersome. How was anyone to know 'EDM' would not only enter the public lexicon, but turn out even more reviled a catch-all than 'electronica' or 'techno'? Surely not I in the year 2005, making it hilarious seeing it used so innocently back then. It does make me wonder what might replace ‘EDM’ as “WORST. CATCH-ALL. EVER.” for fans of electronic music. Oh, it will happen. Ten, maybe twenty years from now, when ‘EDM’ is a long, faded memory of a fad, something will come along as a new hotness, turning scenesters of old (re: the current kids) irate over a silly little word.

Speaking of passing time, holy cow does Techno Nights – Ambient Dawn grow more exceptional as the years tick off. Not so much for the music, though there are quite a few great tracks throughout (and that god awful Winter (Armani Mix) from Dave Clarke). Some cuts are showing their age (The Grid’s Texas Cowboy, Shamen’s Destination Eschaton (Hardfloor Vocal Mix), The Prodigy’s Weather Experience, Orbital’s Lush), but most remain as vital as the day they were crafted.

But putting together an ace assortment of tracks isn’t that big a deal, especially in this day of building your own playlists on streaming services. No, what astounds me about this compilation now is that it was even made at all. To be blunt, licensing is a bitch, and the thirty-seven tracks that makes up Techno Nights – Ambient Dawn come from all over the place. EMI’s clout is big, no doubt, and probably could have convinced the independent labels like Warp, XL Recordings, One Little Indian, Mute, Kickin’, and others for contributions to this project. The fact they also got all their major competitors – BMG, Virgin, Sony, WEA, MCA, Polygram – in on this is nothing short of remarkable. I can’t imagine something similar being put together these days, not without all manner of licensing hassle as labels continue consolidating their assets ever more protectively.

And even if they did manage a compromise, the result wouldn’t be anything like the track list we have here. I can’t think of any other commercial compilation where you’d find The Chemical Brothers, DJ Hell, Eon, The Beloved, and Plastikman rubbing shoulders with Philip Glass, Yello, Vangelis, and Brian Eno. Where big hits like Enigma’s Age Of Loneliness and 808 State’s Pacific 707 hang out with utter unknowns like Jam & Spoon’s Hispanos In Space and The Black Dog’s Raxmus. What would a comparable compilation even look like in today’s scene? It wouldn’t. I truly believe no one could pull off a sequel to Techno Nights – Ambient Dawn. I’d love to see an attempt though.

Various - Simulus

Psychonavigation Records: 2002

We’re going way back in Psychonavigation’s history with this one, folks. Back to the time before they earned much rep’ outside their native Dublin. Before the change when they focused primarily on artist albums. The years when their chief output was the compilation. An era where vinyl was still on their market! The age after the oceans drank Atlantis and before the rise of the sons of Aryas; the days of high adventure! No, wait, that's too far. Pretty sure this label's of a more recent era than when Conan The Barbarian was lopping heads aplenty. The beginning of Americanaland’s end, yeah, that'll do.

Having taken in all these Psychonavigation albums now, I feel I’ve gotten a decent bead on who’s their main acts, who’s their outside contributors, and so on. I look at the track list for Simulus though, and I’m drawing a blank on nearly everyone here. Move D shows up, taking some time away from his hundred-zillionth session with Pete Namlook to provide a jazzy, smoky, blues-hop number in Downtime. A few other names on Simulus have a decent amount of Discogian presence. The Rip-Off Artist released some eight LPs in a very short amount of time in the early ‘00s, with the man behind the name, Matt Haines, working with about a half-dozen other aliases before and since too. A couple others, like The Last Sound and EU, have continued releasing material to this day, though on various different labels than Psychonavigation. Names like Matthew Devereux and Manta even got albums out on this print shortly after. Mostly though, we’re dealing with artists that had a few items out around the time this compilation was released, and promptly disappeared shortly after from all Lord Discogs’ records. Except for Undermine, I have no idea what their story is, the Discogian link directing me to an American hardcore punk band from the early ‘90s. Psychonavigation’s done a few dalliances in its genre explorations, but I’m pretty darn sure Keith Downey’s never been tempted to go that route.

Instead, Simulus is another CD that supports my association of Psychonavigation with Shadow Records, in that this is one seriously trip-hoppin’ collection of tunes. For sure we get a few glitch IDM cuts too, such as Mantra’s click-n-bass Endent, The Rip-Off Artist’s bleep-hop Thief Of Hearts, and The Last Sound’s neurofunky Life Flashes, though that’s served as a specific segment showcasing such sounds. In fact, Simulus is separated into four such distinct parts, each with a brief intermission called Got That? marking the transition. Makes more sense for the vinyl version I guess, but it’s cool to hear some concept being applied to a compilation regardless.

Mostly though, the tunes on Simulus do that turn of the century trip-hop thing a lot of labels were doing in Ninja Tune’s wake, with spicy splashes of other genres for good measure - breaks in The Turner Experience from Dan Warren, ambient techno in Winter from EU. An interesting CD, all said.

Ciaran Byrne - Nine Lives Causeway

Psychonavigation Records: 2008

I recently wrote it’s not such a bad thing finding influence and inspiration from other prominent electronic music groups and artists, especially those from the ‘90s. Hell, it’s such an oft repeated refrain on this blog that it could almost be a secondary by-line. “Enjoying The Past, So Long As It Still Sounds Like The Future.” I’m sure Simon Reynolds has copiously espoused (whee, fancy words!) on this topic, getting lost in retro naval gazing to the detriment of what’s potentially current and new, and it’s a fair point. However, I contend electronic music, in theory, has such a diverse palette and near-limitless resource to draw from, that all it takes is a little creative ingenuity to find a unique spin on a tried-and-true sound. Acid house may have an incredibly base foundation, but no two producers will tweak those 303 knobs the same. It almost seems more difficult to actively copy another track sound for sound than to fiddle with the template in your own fashion. So imagine my surprise in hearing Nine Lives Causeway from Ciaran Byrne, an album mimicking Boards Of Canada so exactly, you’d think it was the Scottish duo hiding under a pseudonym.

Mr. Byrne certainly isn’t the first or last to take on the lo-fi leftfield nostalgic trip-hop BoC stylee. Dan Snaith’s early Manitoba work comes to mind as an obvious comparison, and I’ve no doubt plenty more ultra-obscure producers have dabbled in crackly analog gear for a post-clubbing generation. This album though… I mean, seriously, c’mon, mang! This sounds more Boards Of Canada than Boards Of Canada sounded on Geogaddi. I’ve little doubt I could play this to any casual fan under the assumption it was another unearthed Boards Of Canada artifact, and they’d wholly fall for it. But this isn’t Boards Of Canada.

This is Ciaran Byrne, or Ross Adey to the Dublin Detachment. He’s released a couple albums through Psychonavigation Records, and contributed to the One On Twoism compilations, a series by Twoism Records, featuring music from the Twoism Forum. Even without sampling them, I’ve a very strong notion of the sort of music on those CDs, Boards Of Canada love running deep in the online world. Not to mention ongoing, that series active to this day. Not so much Mr. Adey though, his Discogian info drying up after this album.

Everything about Nine Lives Causeway screams Boards Of Canada. Tracks like Moving Sungold, Catriona’s Liquid Hourglass, Circular Bruno, and Axiom tap the playful side of their sound, whereas Dustbeam and Ode To Able Sail go more reflective with low-slung beatcraft. Meanwhile, fuzzy ambient abstractions like They Won’t Find You Here, Pyrite Eventide, and Blue Gaze wrap the listener up like a childhood comforter blanket. Yep, that’s some Boards action right there.

Still, we’ve a fine little album here if you don’t mind having more Boards Of Canada music that’s not by Boards Of Canada. For a while, it seemed like this was all we’d ever get again.

Dr. Octagon - Dr. Octagonecologyst

DreamWorks Records: 1996

The Golden Age Of Hip-Hop was over, and one of the premier groups to usher in that era, Ultramagnetic MC’s, were heading their separate ways. Kool Keith, whom you most definitely know from The Prodigy’s Fat OF The Land, was the likeliest of the group to have a successful solo career, and he’s done that in spades, clubs, and diamond-encrusted hearts. He’s released album after album after album, running through numerous aliases in doing so, and has earned him the reputation of one of the hardest working MC’s of the last two decades. This, despite some serious issues of quality control, especially with a preponderance of crude sex raps that’d make even Luke of 2 Live Crew ask what the cheese. It all had to start somewhere though, and that was with his most critically hailed alias, Dr. Octagon.

While hip-hop’s flush with quirky personas, this one has to rank up there with the most bizarre. See, he’s not some clichéd ‘doctor of lyricism’ or the like; rather, Dr. Octagon is half mad scientist, half time traveling extra-terrestrial (he comes from the planet Jupiter), and half kink scene gynecologist. This provides Keith a setting where horrorcore, nerdcore, and porno raps all cross paths, with an emphasis on tongue-twisting vocabulary that’s equal parts humorous and perverse. When he says he’s gonna’ dissect rectums, treat your chimpanzee acne and moosebumps, and prescribe a treatment of Pepsi cola, Pepto Bismal, bugs, and pop rocks, you can’t be sure if he’s utterly insane, or has fun screwing about the operating room (between sessions of screwing patients in the operating room). Elsewhere, his assistant Uncle Gerbik is a half shark half alligator half man, and over two centuries old. Clearly Dr. Octagonecologyst is an album firmly planted in cheek, probably sewed there with satin threads and rubber needles.

So Kool Keith had something unique going for him here, but what gave Dr. Octagon a quick cult following was the production of Dan The Automator and turntable scratching of DJ Q-Bert (just coming off a string of DMC Championship victories with Mixmaster Mike). Yep, Dr. Octagonecologyst is basically a proto Deltron 3030. Hell, the first track is titled 3000, and sounds like it uses the bleeps from Pierre Henry’s Psyché Rock as a scratch sample among the super-spliffed vibes. Many of the beats are stripped back to a trip-hop haze with old timey French pop loops, serving the macabre tone with a dose of brevity throughout. Man, no wonder Mo Wax wanted in on this.

For all the critical adoration Dr. Octagon generated though, Kook Keith wasn’t the biggest fan of the project, practically ending it right after. He’s actually ‘killed’ the alias multiple times with another persona, Dr. Dooom, and efforts to revitalize him have failed to manifest much of note. Perhaps it’s as it should be, a one-off project that generated underground buzz, but retaining street cred by never overstaying its welcome. Dr. Octagon has operated on all the nether regions he ever will.

Paul Oakenfold - Swordfish: The Album (Original TC Review)

London-Sire Records: 2001

(2015 Update:
Did anyone get the parody in this review? My extended riff on the only good part about the movie, John Travolta's opening monologue regarding Hollywood's lack of realism? Guess you'd have to hear it in the first place, which I doubt many reading this ever did. Well, here's a good ol' linky to it on YouTube for you to get your kicks in. Now you can read this old review as intended, as envisioned, as ordained.

This was a fun one to write, especially coming off that horrendous album of 'original' material Oakenfold had released the same year. It's held up much better too, at least in that vintage turn-o'-the-millennium prog-trance stylee folks continue reminiscing over. I'd make a quip about the same being untrue for the movie, but I still haven't seen it, and probably never will. The version of Swordfish playing in my head based on the few clues given by the music here is almost certainly leagues better than anything committed to film.)


IN BRIEF: Better than remembered.

The year 2001. Such a memorable year, wasn’t it? No, I’m not referring to that incident; I mean before then. A time when we felt complacent and self-assured about things. A time when we still felt the buzz of the 90s, the silly Y2K superstitions having blown away with the wind. A time when young loves and romantic rendezvous was heartfelt and genuine (well, in my neck of the woods).

The year 2001. Remember how great electronic music was then? When electroclash was new and exciting? How house music was at glorious heights courtesy of the French? How NRG was dying off (well, I celebrated)? When seeing the name Oakenfold in production credits still equaled class?

Oh, yes, my newbie readers. Even if folks were divided on the merits of his DJing in those days, few disputed Paul’s worth as a producer, his track record throughout the '90s impeccable. Despite never actually spearheading any genre, whatever style he jumped on could be counted on as a worthy addition to the movement.

So, does anyone remember the buzz surrounding his involvement with the soundtrack to Hollywood’s faux-hacker thriller Swordfish? I wouldn’t blame you if you don’t, as it was buried under the other hype going into the movie: John Travolta doing the post-modern villain thing; Halle Berry showing nipples for an outlandish fee; Joel Silver, still flashing ‘bankable’ from The Matrix, being promoted as the hot producer for the flick. Yeah, Paul’s involvement probably didn’t register much in the minds of the movie biz faithful.

But, oh, did it matter in clubland. As far as many were concerned, this was the closest thing to a solo Oakenfold album yet (his work with Grace is often regarded as a collaborative effort), and his huge fanbase was eagre to check out the results.

Right, right. Swordfish isn’t exactly all Oakenfold. Three tracks don’t have his imprint on it, and one isn’t even from his label (the Lemon Jelly song, which unsurprisingly sounds the most unique amongst the others). Everything else, though, finds Paul getting his fingers in. Whether as producer, remixer, or collaborator, the Oakenfold (and Andy Gray, heh) touch is felt. Although you can definitely hear how these tracks would work in the movie itself, their worth isn’t hindered if you haven’t seen it (er, like me). Between clear-cut songs (Jan Johnston’s Unafraid; N*E*R*D’s Lapdance; the Planet Rock remix), trancey Perfecto cuts (Dark Machine; Muse’s New Born; Patient Saints’ On Your Mind), and obvious made-for-movie moments (Speed; Password), every one of them holds enough musical strength to keep your attention.

Holding everything together, and raising the bar on this release, is the maintained theme. While most soundtracks of this nature grab a collection of random, if not similar sounding tunes and hope for the best, Swordfish’s keeps the moody techno-trance tone intact for the duration. Even if the BPMs vary by ten or twenty, it flows naturally from song to song. This is arguably the most consistent soundtrack I’ve heard, short of orchestral and true solo works of course.

Unfortunately, Paul’s work here was doomed to soundtrack tie-in failure. There were no clear-cut singles to promote it and no big anthems tearing up the clubs from it. The final nail in the coffin was Swordfish’s own lackluster performance at the theater. Without a sizable audience eagre to hear the music associated with the flick, the soundtrack’s sales were paltry. Oakenfold’s ‘debut’ project was quickly forgotten with an unremarkable whimper, his attention now focused on a proper artist album. So endeth the Swordfish saga.

But what if - now this is the tricky part - what if folks looked past the theatrical tie-in. No movie, no hype: just treat it as a concept album, a collaborative effort with Paul’s ideas leading the charge. Lock, stock. Still no good? C’mon. How much Hollywood marketing thrown out the window would it take for the fans to reverse their stance on this soundtrack’s worthiness? And this is early 2001! There’s still optimism, still a lack of cynicism, and Paul’s star, Paul’s star is still shining!

Now, fast forward to today; diff’rent time, diff’rent place. How quickly we are to mock Oakenfold and slam anything he does in a matter of hours. An, an easily laughed at story, from Swordfish to Lively Mind. A sell-out stumble. Again, again. Relentless. Trip, splat. One after the other. All displayed on the ‘net: downloaded, compressed, mocked, and ridiculed; you can practically see the ship sinking. And all for what? A mansion, a plane? A couple million pounds of blow to shoot straight up the nose?

As easy as it is to point to Swordfish’s failure as the beginning of Oakenfold’s end, looking at just the music itself reveals some actual thought and consideration going into this. Treated as a collection of moody, trancey tunes, there’s some decent material to be had. And, no matter what you may think of Oakenfold these days, Swordfish is at least worth a pick-up should you ever spot it in a bargain bin along with the DVD, as some of these cuts don’t deserve to be lost with bungled Hollywood hype.

Well, just a thought.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2006. © All rights reserved

Faithless - Sunday 8PM

Arista: 1998

I know I'm supposed to declare Sunday 8PM the only Faithless album you're supposed to have, even if you're not a Faithless fan. It is, after all, the best of their discography, an excellent summation of the group's musical talents, nary a duff track in the lot, and all that good rot. Doing so, though, sells the importance of Insomnia on Reverence way short. I can guarantee there wouldn't be a Faithless as we’ve come to know them without the success of that single. Rollo and Sister Bliss would likely have retreated to other pet projects, absent of critical kudos, legions of fans, and piles of money-cash. Insomnia was so big, everyone doubted they could have topped it, and the debate still lingers whether God Is A DJ does the deed or not.

Still, Reverence was the experiment, everyone working together to see if their vision could work. Lo’, they succeeded, but having spent such a brief amount of time on it (a month!), what could they do with more prep and production? The answer is Sunday 8PM, an album that takes everything that made Reverence such a charming excursion and refines them into a wonderful whole.

You’ve got the chill-out instrumental opener The Garden fusing all sorts of influences like trip-hop, acoustic folk, and cinematic dub. You got rugged conscious hip-hop fused with melancholic orchestras on Bring My Family Back. There’s crackly folk-hop Postcards, which actually samples a Dido song released that same year rather than cut another vocal for the track – guess Rollo couldn’t help being efficient there. Why Go? goes for the full soul croon, which I thought was sung by Faithless’ still-employed soul-croon extraordinaire Jamie Catto. Silly me, he’s on the gospel-hop Hour Of Need, whereas that silly-hatted DJ Boy George gets the vocal on Why Go?. Elsewhere, Dido gets an actual song for herself in Hem Of His Garment, while Maxi Jazz throws in another sexy song with She’s My Baby. His shining moment on this album though, is Killer’s Lullaby, a chilling tale of sinister thoughts and deeds. The production on this track is positively stunning, starting with a soft, unassuming ambient session, then unleashing harsh trip-hop weirdness, and hitting a climax of cascading harpsichords and apocalyptic choirs, ending with a final, quiet denouement. Holy descent into madness, Batman!

Oh, and there’s two smashing club anthems in here too, God Is A DJ, and Take The Long Way Home. You’ve heard them, especially the former. I don’t need to talk about them as much.

Another feature of Sunday 8PM that trumps Reverence is just how well it flows together, including partial mixes between some tracks. The first Faithless album had good flow too, but this one’s sequence is sublime, shifting moods from introspective to exuberant, from harrowing to jubilant. It’s definitely one that deserves the full play-through treatment, though any track stands strong on its own too. Yes, even that titular sonic doodle in the back half. That bass pitch, mang!

David Bickley - Still Rivers At Night

Psychonavigation Records: 2006

Psychonavigation Records had a CD fire sale of their back-catalog over the summer, forcing me to splurge on a label as I've never splurged before. You bet that's generated a massive queue of music for my next alphabetical backtrack, to say nothing of the regular releases that have piled up during my sojourn of “S”. This here Still Rivers At Night from David Bickley is the first release of that label trawl that I'm finally reviewing, thus providing me with the opportunity to warn thee of the near future: there will be obscurity, oh yes.

I’m still stunned how Psychonavigation just sprung up out of seemingly nowhere a few years back, yet had been quietly going about its business throughout the ‘00s. Hell, I wonder if even they realized they’d have such a turnaround, given the rather sedate release schedule of their first decade in existence. Take this release, with a catalogue marker of PSY 015, released 2006. The label’s breached PSY 100 this year, and they’d only just reached PSY 050 in 2011. So... from about three releases per year, to about a clip of over ten per now. And all done with a plethora of obscure artists at that.

Take David Bickley. Have you heard of him? Okay, maybe if you’re from his native Ireland or a hardcore follower of downtempo and ambient music, the name’s crossed your path. Not mine though, except in one recent instance that didn’t even register with me at the time. The same year he put out this album, David also released a collaborative effort with Tom Green, the man behind Another Fine Day. In fact, almost all of Mr. Bickley’s Discogian credits list him as a collaborator or contributor to other artists. Going further back, he put out a few items under the alias of Hyperborea, which I know more for the Tangerine Dream album than anything else.

Hey, that’s a handy segue! While I wouldn’t call Still Rivers At Night a krautrock album, there are a few elements of that floating about, mostly in the synth-heavy Berlin-School vein. Hell, the titular cut could be right out of the late ‘70s with those vintage brisk, bloopy arps, sequenced modulators, and gentle pad waves. That’s about as easy it gets describing this album though. Mr. Bickley’s clearly had plenty of influences in his time in the world of music, and he finds ways of incorporating them in clever ways throughout. Traction Cities rides a laid-back trip-hop beat as a woozy melody ebbs in and out, Babygroove sounds like how psy dub might have gone if done by ‘70s German stoners, Zebo-Black glides along a minimalist electro rhythm with faded cinematic strings, and Cave 9 gets its psychedelic rock on while cruising the Amtrak in Detroit.

Ultimately, much of Still Rivers At Night reminds me of The Future Sound Of London’s more recent works. If that sounds mint to you, then this is a worthy companion to the quirkier albums in your collection.

Various - Space Jazz

Quango Records: 2001

Space Jazz was another of the re-launched Quango Records' many quirky new compilations featuring future-leaning examples of classic musical styles. This, above all the others, probably piqued my interest the most, because space music, obviously. I was willing to let go of my bias against traditional jazz if it had cool cosmic sounds floating about. Come to think of it, this was probably the first jazzy CD I got that-

Eh? What's that, Lord Discogs? You demand I search your All-Knowing Archives for Space Jazz? But I have the CD right here in my hand. I can bring it up with a quick run through My Collection no problem. Well, if you insist. You do Know All, after all.

Hello, what's this? Another Space Jazz, by... L. Ron Hubbard? Wait, the Scientology guy? This can’t be... Oh my. This is... HAHAHAHA! Oh dear me, this looks awful! An actual soundtrack for Battlefield Earth, made in 1982, intended to be played while reading the original book. This must be a prank, a piss-take, a... Well I’ll be damned, it’s totally sincere. It even features ‘cutting edge’ electronic music technology, utilizing the Fairlight CMI for its compositions. Man, you just know this is gonna’ sound all kind of chintzy, like the worst aspects of easy-listening jazz with hopeless dated synth sounds. Are there any samples online? *searches* Oh my God! It’s more hilarious than I could have imagined! Brilliant! And I thought the Travolta movie was the worst possible interpretation of Battlefield Earth. Ahahaha, hooo! Dear me, what a riot. Bless thee, Lord Discogs, for preserving such artefacts of bountiful ridiculousness.

I apologize for that derailment. Sometimes though, you discover something so wonderful, so precious, so pure, it must be shared with all, even to the short-term detriment of a review. Like, I know I’ll never own L. Ron Hubbard’s Space Jazz, so why not do this while I have the chance, eh? Besides, it’s far more interesting than Quango’s Space Jazz. This compilation’s actually pretty darn good, but the internet’s all about spotlighting the obscure and nonsensical detritus of history.

What was my original angle anyway? Oh yeah. Quango’s Space Jazz being the first time I started giving nu-jazz some appreciation – at least, when not tied to Ninja Tune. The space theme was an instant hook for yours truly, figuring I’d hear some neat pads sounds and Moog synths among all the usual instrumental dexterity common of the scene. What I didn’t expect was something far dubbier with opener Chocolate Elvis from Tosca, and Boozoo Bajou on the rub. Then again, it was my first exposure to the Richard Dorfmeister project, so it makes all the sense now.

By and large though, Quango’s Space Jazz goes for trippy psychedelia throughout, featuring cuts from Meat Katie, Love TKO, Akasha, and Horsemilk. It also gets downright trip-hoppy in parts (Forward’s Modern Crimes, Solid Doctor’s Faustian Bargain), which isn’t all that spacey, but what the heck, I’ll take it.

Thievery Corporation - Sounds From The Thievery Hi-Fi

Eighteenth Street Lounge Music/4AD: 1997/1998

This album was such a revelation when I first heard it, even if it was treading familiar ground to music that came before. Some genres though, I seldom grow tired of, and when they fall out of popular favour, the heart grows fonder for another fix. These days, such down periods are almost impossible, every damn thing available at any damn time for almost no damn price (gosh darn it!). The '90s though, that was a different era, one where cool genres could completely disappear from local scenes for years, yet cultivating a vibe in the unlikeliest places.

For yours truly, I had nary a hope of finding much ambient dub, loungy trip-hop, or spaced-out downtempo even on the best of days (re: lucking out on a trip to Big Van' City, son), so having Sounds From The Thievery Hi-Fi stumble into my Canadian hinterlands storefront was a godsend. If you happened to hang out in Washington, D.C. though, where Misters Garza and Hilton were plying their trade in the back-half of the ‘90s, you’d be inundated with their sweet, sweet dubby vibe. Also, Kruder & Dorfmeister, somewhere in Eastern Europe.

So Thievery Corporation proved they were keeping the spliff-heady downtempo dub alive, even if the similarities to the early works of Beyond Records were entirely coincidental. They joined forces, after all, upon meeting each other in a lounge while waxing nostalgic about old timey bossa nova music. That sound would go on to define most of their work, but at this early stage they’re still feeding off the trip-hop and reggae dub brand most downtempo was comfortable indulging in during the ‘90s.

And while it wouldn’t surprise me if the Thievin’ Corps. doesn’t care for these early efforts anymore, it’s difficult denying just how mint some of these tunes remain. 2001 Spliff Odyssey is perfectly titled, a sublime slice of lengthy cosmic dub that strips rhythms bare, lays just enough reverb on to lose your head in, and wraps it all with floating, filtered pad work – cheeky vocal snippets thrown in don’t hurt either. Other tracks like Shaolin Satellite, The Foundation, Walking Through Babylon, So Vast The Sky, and .38.45 follow a similar mould, each ace examples of this style, though not nearly as long as Odyssey.

Ah right, that ‘Thievery Corporation make too short of tracks” gripe I mentioned in The Mirror Conspiracy. Technically, I could say the same thing here, but as this is early Thievery, their music hasn’t evolved to the rich, dense soup it would later, most tunes sparse and simple. Even their bossa (Vivid, The Glass Bead Game, Incident At Gate 7) and Afro cuts (Universal Highness, The Oscillator) only scratch the surface, more content at remaining dub above all else. In this case then, short track lengths are fine, most getting in and providing their nice jam before moving on. It may be simple song writing, but damn if Garza and Hilton not hit that sweet, downtempo dub spot in the process.

Tom Middleton - The Sound Of The Cosmos (Part 2: Music Review)

Hooj Choons: 2002

Rhythm, melody, and harmony: our most basic understanding of music. The beats stimulate the body, the notes stimulate the brain, and the chords stimulate the heart. Entire cultures have centered their arts around any one of these tenants, some even finding fascinating ways of combining them into works of creativity for the ages. Studies, essays, lectures and philosophies have spent countless words detailing and describing just what it is about these things that drive so much of humanity’s inexplicable appreciation of aesthetics. I, for one, shall not bore you with such ramblings, as I know we’re all listening to The Sound Of The Cosmos for a little bit of boogie action, and a nice afternoon chill sesh’ on the weekend. Plus quips. I know you love the quips.

As pretentious as a triple-disc set exploring aspects of rhythm, melody, and harmony may sound, Tom Middleton's approach is rather middle-of-the-road for such a concept. The tunes dug up don't stretch far beyond his comfort zone, much of it coming off like a mixtape rather than an industry changing ultra-set. I guess the fact this is a 3CD DJ mix was unique, made more so in that there's very little bandwagon jumping of trendy genres here. In fact, with all the deep house and downtempo jazzy vibes throughout, The Sound Of The Cosmos is incredibly noncommercial for its time, which likely helped sweeten the “Best Mix Of 2002” accolades every journalist was throwing Middleton's way. A high profile release lacking a pile of recognizable hits, where music comes first? Have all the ribbons, mate!

Still, a few high-profile tunes do make their way over the course of these three hours, none more so than Middleton's mash-up of Tiga & Zyntherius' Sunglasses At Night and New Order's Blue Monday. Quirky mash-ups of old and new hits were already buzzing in the underground, but this one crossed far enough into the public's awareness, it kicked off a brief period of everyone trying their hand at mash-ups; even Madonna! It's the sort of tune that works brilliantly as a climax, so it's hilariously cheeky on ol' Tom's part that he dumps it so early in CD1 (Rhythm), as though getting his one obvious anthem done and dusted so he can carry on with fresher tunes in his crate.

CD1 carries on with more rhythm-centric tunes, though if I’m honest, all this acid jazz and 2-step garage doesn’t do much for me. Maybe I’m just spoiled for the funkier electro earlier Middleton music offered, but any set that includes MJ Cole always gets a big ol’ “meh” from me. CD2, Melody, is all deep house all the time. Familiar names include John Beltran, Herbert, Ananda Project, Schmoov!, and Télépopmusik’s one big hit (also played out early in the set). It’s a good mix, but nothing I haven’t heard before.

Then there’s CD3, Harmony. It is one of the best morning-after downtempo and trip-hop mixes I’ve ever heard. ‘Nuff said.

Tom Middleton - The Sound Of The Cosmos (Part 1: Historical Musings)

Hooj Choons: 2002

The Sound Of The Cosmos was a big deal when it dropped in ye' olde year of 2002, though I'm hard pressed in giving adequate reasons from a modern perspective. It's a class mix all around, no doubt, but were we really so enamoured by 3CD DJ mixes at the turn of the century? Not at all, the format actually rather rare as the 2CD route was the traditional method of letting a jock stretch their skills behind the decks (turntable or studio). Besides, with a market thoroughly saturated in DJ mix CDs and a consumer base not exactly flush with funds at the time, it was simply commercially viable sticking with a proven formula, folks more than willing to spring on double-disc sets. Anything more and you’re looking at box set compilations on the cheap(ish).

Let’s put it this way: even though a triple-disc set from Sasha, Digweed, Tenaglia or Cox would be a sure-fire money maker at the turn of the millennium, none of them did the deed, the buying public content with the 2CD format. Even after Mr. Middleton’s The Sound Of The Cosmos earned all the plaudits, praises and Best DJ Mix accolades, the market still stuck things out with single and double-disc rinse outs. A few triple-disc releases cropped up in Balance and Renaissance 3D, but it wasn’t until recent years that we’ve seen far more examples of the 3CD DJ mix, even if only as something intended for hardcore collectors. And yes, you may point out the irony what with the ol’ aluminum’s dwindling prospects as the public’s preferred playback method.

This leads us to our next quandary: why Tom Middleton? For sure he’s a respected name in the world of electronic music, his discography already filled with classics by the time this came out (Jedi Knights, Global Communication, Cosmos, Secret Ingredients), but not exactly well versed in the commercial DJ mix business. A couple outings for Mixmag aside, The Sound Of The Cosmos was his first proper release in the market, and Hooj Choons saw nothing less fitting than giving the Muzik Magazine Q&A columnist a three disc concept release as a debut. I guess they had no choice if he was to see his vision to fruition - centering mixes around the three main tenants of music wouldn’t do if relegated to portions of two CDs. Maybe Mr. Middleton was owed a few favours from Mr. Red Jerry.

More likely though, ol’ Tom had garnered so much positive karma within the industry that it was only appropriate that he get such a project green-lit by Hooj Choons. It also garnered him plenty of kudos from everyone who came within earshot of The Sound Of The Cosmos, an epic DJ mix that wilfully defied standards of the time, even setting off a few trends of its own. For details on that, however, check out Part 2 of this review. Hey, if In Trance We Trust 020 gets a two-parter, so does this.