ACE TRACKS: September 2019

And this month started out so well too.

Like, I'm feeling a good clip. The words are coming to my head just fine, I'm articulating my points as cleverly as I ever have, no screen is left blank for more than a second before I start committing letters to fingers to keyboard. And yet, it all suddenly went crashing down on me, like a total and complete mental failure that needed not just a reboot or defrag, but a hard drive replacement too (or however this metaphor goes). I've had 'issues' before, sure, but this took me quite by surprise in just how swift and absolute it did me in.

Naturally there are a number of things that contributed to this, much of which needn't nor should be brought up here. One thing that really stands out to me though, in how it should have been a warning sign something wasn't quite right with the ol' brain chemistry, is when I discovered I'd lost two CDs of mine. And I only noticed they were missing because they were supposed to be part of this current run of reviews: Autumn Of Communion's Reservoir Of Video Souls and Biosphere's Shenzhou.

It strangely and scarily unnerved me just how much losing these two CDs (one of which comes in a DVD-sized package, no less) affected me. It felt like I'd lost control over something I knew, with absolute certainty, I had total control over: the state of my music collection. And if not this, what else was I losing control over? It started a very vicious, hyper-critical mental cycle that took some time getting out of, especially when you know 'taking time for yourself' is only putting you behind the schedule you demand of yourself. I know, logically, I have very little to worry about, so why does everything feel like crap?

So it goes when the sun starts retreating further and further onto the southern horizon. Meanwhile, here's the ACE TRACKS that did make it into the month of September:


Full track list here.


MISSING ALBUMS:
Ylid - Transcend!
Le Moors - Tendrils
Crystal Moon - Temple
Various - A Taste Of Kandi Summer 2007

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 0%
Percentage Of Rock: 7%
Most “WTF?” Track: One of the Ezdanitoff tracks, if for nothing else than seeing the cover art.

Fun fact: usually when I'm compiling these playlists, it's in one fell swoop, going in reverse from newest to oldest reviews. While making this one, I noticed how I wasn't skipping any due to a lack of Spotify presence. As I inched closer to the end, I wondered, could this be it? Could this, finally, be the ACE TRACKS playlist that doesn't have a single missing album? Like, there's certainly a smaller selection than most months, so it could happen, right?

Then came the obscure ambient/experimental stuff. Yes, even more obscure than Ezdanitoff, somehow. Strange how so many older Hed Kandi releases never made their way to Spotify though. Yeah, the licensing of those old comps would be a bitch to go through nowadays, but surely the mighty Ministry Of Sound has enough scene clout to pull it off?

Howie B. - Turn The Dark Off

Polydor: 1997

When 'electronica' was the new hotness, I recall seeing Howie B.'s name everywhere, but as I look back on his compilation game, I fail to remember why. Yeah, I got a small jump on him when he appeared on the Waveform Records compilation Frosty (ten minutes of Birth!), and he was repped on the MuchMusic 'electronica' show CD tie-in RU Receiving, but that was the extent of my exposure.

He was featured on a number of trip-hop and big-beat collections at the height of those genres' commercial success, and carried on into the new Millennium to a respectable degree, including contributing to the FabricLive and AnotherLateNight series. I dunno' though, it still feels like I'm missing something, like Mr. Bernstein was at a higher level than even that, almost on par with the likes of The Chemical Brothers and Massive Attack. Give me a second, I need to check the Wiki... *one search result later* OOOoohhh... He helped produced U2's Pop album. Yeah, that'll get your name in the mainstream rock rags, no doubt.

Coming up through the studio ranks, Howie B. was primed to make a prominent mark upon UK clubland by the mid-'90s, finally getting his debut with Music For Babies. That... was a tad too specialized a sound to make much impact, so the follow-up Turn The Dark Off is generally considered his proper debut, with all his major singles. Switch is here! Fizzy In My Mouth is here! Take Your Partner By The Hand is here! Uh... Who's Got The Bacon? is here? Wait, Angels Go Bald, Too was a single as well? I guess it has that spy-caper vibe going for it, and Howie did help with that Tom Cruise staring Mission: Impossible score a little. Can't say it's the Howie B. stylee I was expecting going into this though, so brisk and breakbeaty for a dude more known for the down 'n' dirty side of trip-hop funk.

Turn The Dark Off features a solid assortment of those sounds, essentially where big-beat and trip-hop meet in the grand scheme of things. In fact, I can't help but feel it's a little too solid, too polished for a record seemingly inspired by the gritty underground beats that were churned out by Mo'Wax. I suppose that can't be helped, Mr. Bernstein's experience on the production side of the things smoothing out whatever free-flowing roughness emerges from one's inspiration. It's far from BT-itis, but certainly around Junkie XL's level of studio sleekness.

Whenever he has a chance to solo out some sounds over his hunky-chunky rhythms, the music's all the better for it. The gentle keyboards and weird wobbly wail in Limbo. The raunchy-raw squealing synths in Butt Meat. The spoken-word tale of noir clublife as narrated by Robbie Robertson in Take Your Partner By The Hand. Not to mention the building guitar licks and hip-hop rhythms that aren't too dissimilar to The RZA's beatcraft. Album could have used more tracks like that one.

Ken Ishii - Sleeping Madness

R & S Records: 1999

Not the actual follow-up to Ken Ishii's breakout album Jelly Tones, but generally thought of as the spiritual successor. The between LP Metal Blue America is just a tad too rare and a tad too 'American' for most folks to bother with. What's rather sad is, for the longest time, I wasn't really aware of Sleeping Madness either. For sure I knew of Ishii, but by the time I started noticing his albums in local stores, we were already at Future In Light (aka: that one with the 3D model outline as cover art). Better distribution deals likely helped in that regard, as finding R & S Records releases in Canada was none too easy or cheap in the '90s, no matter how critically exceptional they were (I'm looking at you, SAW 86-92).

Of course, our modern times has left most of these nuisances nicely in the past, and catching up on Ken's work has been one of my long-gestating tasks, if not an exceptionally pressing one. Sleeping Madness is as good as any record to carry on with, showcasing his distinct take on Detroit techno by way of Neo-Tokyo, while also highlighting some of the broader developments the genre had started incorporating by the late '90s. Yes, I'm talking about that almost entirely forgotten trend techno couldn't help but indulge in: jazz.

Oh yeah, there's that jazz, man. Where Is The Dusk features busy drums, organ licks, and layered strings creating a bizarre discordant melody that fits snugly with the seemingly chaotic rhythms. If that wasn't jazzy enough, here's a collaboration with DJ Spooky (that subliminal kid), bringing his trippy hip-hop style to Enso Online - yeah, man, dig d'at cello bassline action, yo'! Missing Melody's title is apt, mostly a spazzy, swingin' rhythm workout that can't have at least been partially inspired by Squarepusher's antics; Game Over too, with Co-Fusion bringing a little more rocky feel to the party.

And golly gee, had Ken Ishii been feeling a bit of that tech-house bug that was creeping in the scene too? 24bit Optimist has a nice, bumpin' rhythm going for it that's not too hard and not too fast, though does morph into that classic Ishii techno stylee with the neon-kissed melodies reverberating off tall Shinjuku towers. Plus, I'd expect nothing less than a little tribal tech-house groove from a collab' with Talvin Singh in Water Dripping Down On The Middle Of The Forehead, no matter how many Japanese electro sounds Ken throws in there.

The rest of Sleeping Madness mostly features all the vintage Ishii techno you want and crave. Man, I don't know how to describe the sounds in Misprogrammed Day, but that beat thumps, and that sinewy hook coils itself around my cochlea like a... never mind. Really, this album offers enough familiar sounds while working in unique, creative indulgences for a little spicy variety. Yes, even a trip-hop secret song, because it's the late '90s, and everyone wants a spoonful of that Massive Attack gravy.

ACE TRACKS: May 2019

This post is coming to you from the tiny mountainous town of Jasper, Alberta, nestled within the northern arm of the mighty Canadian Rockies. And is this tiny mountainous town ever a tourist trap, believe you me, but with splendorous scenery such as this, how could it not? Like, sure, no one gave Jasper much care half a century ago, when it was little more than a way point for train routes through the mountains, but when The Greatest Generation and their offspring were scoping Canada out for vacation and retirement options, they realized this untamed region was quite nice for hiking, skiing, camping, and seeing various wildlife in their natural habitats. Thus, tourist trap of a town was born.

Now, I've actually passed through Jasper a number of times when I was a wee lad, when my family would drive from one corner of Canadian hinterlands to visit other family in another corner of Canadian hinterlands (the flatter kind), but I barely have any recollection of it, almost always passed out from the super-long road trip by the time we came to Jasper (my folks were hardcore about making it across three provinces in a single 24-hour shot). Figured if I'm going to do a road trip for a vacation of my own, why not visit some places of my youth? I'm not sure why we feel so compelled to do that as we age. It's very strange. Maybe I should have brought some Raffi with me to listen to if I truly wanted to recapture that experience. Ain't none of that on this month's ACE TRACKS playlist though.


Full track list here.


MISSING ALBUMS:
Brasil & The Gallowbrothers Band - In The Rain, In The Noise
Waki - Hurry Up And Relax
Wanderwelle - Gathering Of The Ancient Spirits

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 3%
Percentage Of Rock: 0 %
Most “WTF?” Track: Oh, obviously the one with DJ Shadow's name attached.

Why yes, I did listen to this while on the road! Well, for the portions of British Columbian highway that I could still get Spotify signal. Was surprised it held out as far into some regions as it did. Can't say this was a terrible good playlist for a road trip though, genres wildly jumping all over the place as they did. Good thing I brought a CD wallet with me too! Ah, the ol' standbys...

Sixtoo - Jackals And Vipers In Envy Of Man

Ninja Tune: 2007

It must be difficult holding out on chasing trends. The music rags rave on about what's 'cutting edge' and 'fresh hotness', your peers can't help but dabble in new tricks and toys, and all the while a burgeoning audience emerges from corners long thought untappable. Sure, you have your loyal, dependable, old-school followers, but surely the temptation lurks to explore a little, just a little. A peak around the corner, a glance over the hill, a click of a link from a somewhat trusted source. It didn't look like Robert Squire was in any rush to do so though. Even as his brand of scratch-heavy trip-hop continuously lost ground to the incoming wave of grime and dubstep, his Sixtoo project kept the faith for much of the '00s. Yeah, he found a couple toys to tinker with (sample pad!), but it never compromised his style.

After eking out a career in Eastern Canada, Sixtoo got picked up by Ninja Tune, and it looked like things were flying breezy for Mr. Squire. After the release of this particular album though, his studio suffered a break-in, with everything involving his Sixtoo project pilfered. Not just the material for a new album, but all his years of back-ups, archives, samples, and the works. Everything! Sensing it a sign to move on in his music career, Rob shuttered the Sixtoo alias, switched cities to the West coast of Canada, and started making deep acid house as Prison Garde. Because they all turn to house eventually (sometimes techno too).

Before that though, he released Jackals And Vipers In Envy Of Man, which looks to be the final Sixtoo record. Unless he starts feeling nostalgic for his hip-hop roots, which could happen, maybe, possibly. Hard to start from scratch like he'd have to though. Makes better sense starting a whole different project, maybe with some 'support from Sixtoo', if you catch my drift. Why am I rambling like this? Damn Raptors victories, distracting my thoughts so easily.

Like many of his previous works (Boxcutter Emporium, Duration Project), Jackals And Vipers is essentially an extended music session exploring similar sounds and samples, giving each 'part' a live turntable vibe. Except this isn't all live turntables, but mixing and matching drum breaks and samples with some effects fun thrown in. Take those sessions, refine them in post-production, and voila, thirteen tracks of various non-rapping hip-hop business. Some parts last less than a minute, but most reaching the three-to-five minute range.

And there's not much else to say about Jackals And Vipers, if I'm honest. As mentioned, Sixtoo brings an unfussy, uncomplicated style to the music, riding rhythms as he feels them out, never gunking things up with superfluous effects and nonsense glitchiness. I wouldn't have minded some rappity-raps over a few of these, but they're fine without vocals too. It's a vintage Ninja Tune sound, which again was kinda' surprising to hear in the year 2007, what with The Bug's London Zoo just around the corner.

Luke Slater - Freek Funk

NovaMute: 1997

(a Patreon Request from Omskbird)

I feel compelled to go into a lengthy diatribe over how difficult it was to get this album. I mean, why this one? It's chump-cheap on the Discogs market, and Amazon isn't far behind. Somehow though, Luke Slater's Freek Funk was vexed, a Patreon Request from as far back as February, only now getting done due to shipping shenanigans. I wax enough over my music buying/hunting/savaging practices though, and who needs to read about disappearing shipments and borders confiscations.

So I've talked up Luke Slater plenty now, though almost exclusively his side-projects and side-projects that are more popular than his main-name albums. Still, Planetary Assault Systems remains his most fruitful alias, so it's no surprise he returned to it after a few shots at making a name for himself under his own name. The move from pummelling techno tools into more club-friendly territory was met with about as much resistance as you'd expect from the underground faithful, and the cross-over appeal simply wasn't having it in the year 2002. Back to the welcoming hands of faceless Berlin bosh, then, and everything was good again.

Before we got to that point, however, we have his first stab at a cross-over record; or a record that did away with the silly anonymous techno producer thing. Because if David Holmes and Laurent Garnier could make respectable techno records with their real names, then by g'ar so could Luke Slater. And I'm just being goofy in calling Freek Funk a cross-over album. Yeah, Luke Slater's no longer a faceless techno producer, and this stuff is certainly more accessible to the material he was releasing on Peacefrog Records or as The 7th Plain earlier in his career. Plus, in the year 1997, one couldn't help but fall sway to the trends of the time in his native Britain. So here's a big beat track in Bless Bless, and some trip-hop offerings in Zebediah and Walking The Line. Just, y'know, done in a techno-y sort of way.

And for you purists out there, Freek Funk provides plenty of the pounding bosh, Engine One, Filter 2 and Time Dancer doing the dutiful dancefloor demolishin'. Elsewhere Mr. Slater gets his futuristic Detroit-bleep on (Purely, Origin, titular cut), and even has a stab at the ol' electro with Are You There? Then there's Love, a track that sounds like nothing else on this album, but damn if it doesn't predict The Field's ultra-loopy melodic pseudo-trance vibes nearly a decade early. You'll definitely want to feel a good gurn on this one.

Lots of techno variety then, though that unfortunately impedes the album some, almost too much going on for it to stick in your mind. It's the same problem Garnier's 30 had, and though Luke does try bridging the more jarring stylistic transitions of Freek Funk with interstitial Scores, it still isn't enough for things to come together as a seamless whole. It's a messy album, but certainly worth a listen for the gems throughout.

The Sabres Of Paradise - Haunted Dancehall

Warp Records: 1994

I didn't have the greatest introduction to The Sabres Of Paradise, which may seem strange considering it was their agreed-upon classic Smokebelch II (Beatless Mix) that was my introduction. Appearing as it did in that Techno Nights – Ambient Dawn compilation though, it sounded so out of place and strange, especially on the supposed 'techno' CD. Even as time went on and I understood the significance of the tracks selected for that collection, Smokebelch II still never clicked with me. I assumed it would remain one of those tracks that made perfect sense if you had “been there” when it was rinsed out at all those infamous British raves during a misty sunrise in farmer's fields, but not walking home in the grey rain of the Canadian west coast.

Still, that didn't stop me from being intrigued by their sophomore effort Haunted Dancehall, if nothing else than for Jack Moss' review of it on TranceCritic. I mean, just the concept alone is catnip, the idea of crafting a soundtrack to a raver noir novel that didn't actually exist. Or maybe Andrew Weatherall had the story in mind all along, but lacked the confidence in his written prose to do it justice, settling on liner note 'excerpts' instead. Hey, I can dig that. Some folks feel they're at their creative best in specific lanes, and Weatherall clearly knows his lane's in the DJing domain. Still, his production ain't much of a slouch either.

Though let's not forget the other players involved with this Sabres Of Paradise project, including members of Brit-tronica outfit The Aloof in Jagz Kooner and Gary Burns. Throw in a Portishead remix on Planet D and a proper dancehall-dub contribution from Steve Gilderon Wilmot, and you've one remarkably diverse album in Haunted Dancehall. You wouldn't expect anything less from an early Warp Records record though, would you?

In fact, I'm not sure folks really knew what to make of it back when, what with no clear-cut singles springing from the album. The Sabres basically had to self-release the funky blaxploitation breaks of Theme as an EP, while dubby groover Wilmot did some solo business as well. No Smokebelches though – not even a Beatless Mix. I wager that Chapel Street Market 9am comes close though, capturing a similar 'morning after daze' vibe.

And gosh, the rest? Whatever that ultra-metallic funky rhythm is in Bubble And Slide. The rolling jazz-dub of Duke Of Earlsfield. Tow Truck screaming for a British crime-caper. The effortless cinematic IDM funk of Ballad Nicky McGuire (seriously, d'at rhythm!). While not quite as leftfield as stars of Artificial Intelligence went, the sound-craft on Haunted Dancehall easily puts it on par with The Black Dogs and Autechres of the era. The only reason it doesn't get brought up in similar discussion is either The Sabres' earlier discography of straight-forward rave records, or their audacity in tying all their tunes into some sort of narrative. Fools, we can't have folks actually understanding these tracks!

Bows - Blush

Too Pure: 1999

(a (late) Patreon Request from Omskbird)

At first ear-glance, you'd be forgiven in thinking this is just another trend-hopping cash-in by another would-be trip-hop-slash-jazzstep act. Well, more the former than the latter, but if Roni Size/Reprazent could have crossover success, surely anyone could repeat the trick (spoiler: no). I cannot deny letting that assumption initially sink in, the Massive Attack comparisons rapidly blossoming in my brain like a bounty of succulent peaches. Or coconuts. Or apples... Darn, what a boring list of fast-growing fruits for a simile. What would the opposite of that be, the slowest blooming fruit? *d'un Google'd* The melocanna baciffera, eh? Well, the simile wouldn't work, but the alliteration would!

Anyhow, Bows was the brainchild of Luke Sutherland, a multi-instrumentalist who plied his trade with the indie rock band Long Fin Killie. Never heard of them myself, but they released three albums throughout the '90s, so a modest run. When Mr. Sutherland started feeling the itch for something a little more proper urban, the band disbanded, though Colin Greig brought his bass to the Bows project. And while Luke was proficient with plenty of instruments (guitar, violin, saxaphone, his own voice), he added a few more musicians to the mix, including Robbie McKendrick on non-sampled drums, and singer Signe Høirup Wille-Jørgensen as vocalist. Yes, that's a Danish name, she also of the band Speaker Bite Me, and followed-upon with a solo career as Jomi Massage. Man, where would I be without The Lord That Knows All, eh? I couldn't imagine trying to research all that when Blush first came out.

Anyhow, the reason those Massive Attack comparisons couldn't be helped is because the UK soul drips from this album (and we all know who invented contemporary UK soul... (James Blake?)). Opener Big Wings features dense layers of swelling strings, oozy-woozy saxophone and horns, and Ms. Wille-Jørgensen's croon over a slow Amen Break, essentially bridging trip-hop and jungle. By '99, I'm sure it'd been done plenty times, but Bows' take on it is enjoyable enough.

And that's about the gist of how I'd sum Blush. It treads ground mostly covered in years prior, but Luke shows enough songcraft and personality with the sound to make this a solid companion piece to the trip-hop lexicon. Some intriguing tricks crop up, such as the ultra-quiet start of King Deluxe (such a whisper of a vocal), or the chill fake-out before going full jazzstep tear-out in Girls Lips Glitter. Plus, the swelling strings of Big Wings becomes a recurring theme throughout Blush, including an extra-long outro in Rockets that almost turns the music into a dense six-minute drone.

If this had come out during trip-hop's critical peak ('94-'95), I'm sure it'd be regarded in the same discussions as Portisehead and Tricky. Unfortunately, the genre was waning in critical favour at the turn of the Millennium, so it's no surprise this would have been brushed off as 'more of the same'. If you dig trip-hop's myriad contributions though, 'more of the same' ain't a bad thing at all.

Igorrr - Moisissure

Acroplane Recordings: 2008/2009

(a Patreon Request)

Pretty sure I've seen the name Igorrr in the past – one cannot even dabble in Venetian Snares without Igorrr's name getting dropped in association – but as for hearing his stuff, this is virgin territory, my friends. Still, how radically different can he be? You hear one breakcore artist, you've heard them all, amirite? Spastic Amen breaks, hyper editing, an aesthetic cribbed from another genre (ragga, chiptune, death metal, hentai), and a wacky sense of humour letting you know that everything involved is just one huge pisstake. Wait, that all sounds super awesome, and full of variety! Where was I going with this again? Oh yeah, with breakcore artists, you generally know what you're gonna' hear with these guys (re: that list above), but in a scene with dozens of extremely, ah, 'unique' individuals, you can count on something radically different from each one.

Of course, I don't know what specific things I might hear, and I couldn't help but take a peak at Igorrr's Discogs entry before diving in – don't want to be caught too unawares with these dudes. Straight off I'm hit with the word 'Baroque', which has me thinking, “ah, cool, there's gonna' be a lot of orchestral strings in this thing, as heard in some classic Aphex Twin music”. Occasionally, yes, but this Gautier Serre ain't limiting himself to that, nosiree. He's got himself some death metal in that creative cranium of his, which makes sense, baroque and metal sharing many musical traits. Just imagine Toccata And Fugue In D Minor with super-heavy guitar distortion! Oh, it's been done, you say. Like, a lot. Figures.

Anyhow, Moisissure is Igorrr's second album, though initially only as a self-released demo. When he later landed a proper label deal, this and his first demo, Poisson Soluble, were compiled into a double-disc item, but as I was requested to only review this, the first one will have to wait for another day. If I'm so inclined. Can't say I am though, Moisissure the sort of breakcore I'm equally delighted in, yet can't help but facepalm over too.

The baroque segments are nifty, I won't deny. Whether with creepy organs and strings (Valse en Décomposition), piano pieces (Œsophage De Tourterelle, Phasme Obèse), choirs (Liquid Requiem), flamenco guitars (Putrefiunt), or harpsichord (Huille Molle, Moelleux), no classical instrument is under-utilized or spared Igorrr's maniacal hyper-edits, often accompanied by glitched-out, thrashy rhythms. He even dabbles into swing-jazz for Brutal Swing, an old-timey ragtime ditty coupled with digital hardcore blast-beats and headbangin' metal riffs. I approve of this form of amusement making.

Other stuff, however, just leave my eyes rolled in their sockets. Death metal growling, babies crying, phlegm-filled breathing... is this all supposed to be funny, or kinda' serious? I assume the former, but I don't find it so, just annoying. Which, I'm sure, is also the point, creating discomfort in the listener. Aw, why do that, when you can showcase such operatic beauty as in Croute too? Gimme only good feels!

Hybrid - I Choose Noise

Distinct'ive Records: 2006

(a Patreon Request from Omskbird)

I Choose Noise is what I was expecting Morning Sci-Fi to sound like. Which is funny, because by the year 2006, I thought Hybrid was well onto their 'we are soundtrack composers now' stage. Like, I don't recall much promotion for I Choose Noise's singles. I'm sure tracks like Dogstar and Falling Down did well enough on the DJ circuit, but how represented your tunes are on compilations tends to signify actual popularity (yes, even in the mid-'00s), and if folks were mostly clamouring for a trend-whorish remix of an old single, well...

For those who'd been clamouring for another Wide Angle though, I Choose Noise finds Truman and Healings bringing the sophisticated songcraft back to the fore, with all the acoustic guitar interludes and orchestral arrangements some undoubtedly felt lacking in Morning Sci-Fi. Now, I liked the 'dumber' music of Morning Sci-Fi, but that's because I feel Hybrid are at their best when making 'dumb' music, utilizing their breakbeat science in ways my reptile brain interprets as transcendent (Live Angle still their best LP, no doubt).

And there are some of those wonderfully 'dumb' moments on I Choose Noise, including the titular cut, big aggressive beats boshing things out as an urgent string section wonderfully builds tension. Last Man Standing gets funkier with the breakbeat science, harking back to the days when such tunes were found aplenty and cyber-action movies of the late '90s – how odd to hear it in the year 2006, I wager. Hooligan Spirit dips its toes into boshing electo, as though the cyborg police are on the march for criminal hackers, and Dream Stalker gets Peter Hook back on the bass guitar for another smooth slice of progressive breaks that wouldn't sound out of place in a movie credit roll.

Ah, hm, y'know, I'm getting quite the sense of these tunes being written with films in mind. Hybrid had released a collection of music intended for potential movies the year prior (Scores), and while these are far denser in arrangement than simple background fodder, I can't say any real hook or melody latches on the same way older tunes have. Dogstar is a well crafted single, with all the things folks who love Hybrid come to enjoy (strong rhythms, strong lead singer, nice instrumentation, smart use of an orchestra), but Lord help me if I had to hum it to anyone. You'd think tunes like Falling Down or Until Tomorrow, with actual choruses, would have some sort of hook, but Hybrid's production smooths everything out into a dense wall-of-sound almost to a fault. At least I remember Choke for that weird bell tone over a trip-hop beat.

I Choose Noise ends on another big orchestral anthem of Just For Today, clearly trying to ape Wide Angle's climax of Finished Symphony. It doesn't quite hit the mark, but as a whole, I liked this album more, even if the individual tunes don't stick with me as much as Wide Angle's. Weird how that works sometimes.

Transcend - 2001-2008

Ntone: 1995

And another CD I thought I'd never find, due to the fact I didn't know it existed. Absolutely I knew a few artists on that Tone Tales From Tomorrow Too compilation had music elsewhere, and even gathered a few items up from them (Spacetime Continuum, Neotropic, Sounds From The Ground, kinda'), but Transcend? Sure, the chap had two tracks on there, but he seemed like such an enigma, what with strange, obscure, futuristic track titles like 2003 and 2005. What hope could a teenager from the hinterlands of Canuckistan have in stumbling upon anything from the dude? Very little indeed, Transcend a nigh ghost within the Discoggian archives. This is his lone album, with a lone vinyl single with some of the same tracks coming out the year prior. Even his compilation-fu is sparse, a few scattered tunes on the usual suspects for trippy downtempo cropping up (Mind The Gap series, Instinct Records, Shadow Records). Darren Leathley, the chap behind Transcend, didn't do much else beyond Transcend either, a jungle cover of Pretty Vacant as Sub Carrier all that Lord Discogs provides.

What I hadn't counted on, however, is that Ninja Tune still has CD stock of this album, as revealed when I checked out their actual online store for the first time ever. Why hadn't I ever done that before? Because Ninja Tune music was always available in local stores, and I figured whatever was available here was available anywhere. Not the soundest of logic, but then, there was always Amazon too, providing the fallback. Now that I know it's there tho'... *giggity*

Oh, hey, maybe I should talk some actual music, eh? Ah, sadly, I'm not sure there's much to talk about here. 2001-2008 features eight tracks (2001 up through 2008), all doing that early '90s sample-dub stoner downtempo stuff quite a few folks were doing, and is strictly middle-of-the-road at that. Associated name-drops include The Orb, Psychic Warriors Ov Gaia, and maybe some post-Lifeforms FSOL for good measure. But all done in a real hazy, woozy, trippy meandering kind of way, which fits the 'experimental side of Ninja Tune' vibe Ntone was establishing itself as. I guess you could call this stuff illbient, though it lacks the turntablism that marked that genre's traits. I can't say I've heard much specifically like Transcend's style, but he's not doing much to elevate above the pack either.

If there's any distinct trait in this album, there's a loose idea of the evolution of civilization. The opening clutch of tracks mostly feature chill, laid-back tunes that have no problem throwing in a looping tribal beat, repeated stray woodwind sample, or ethnic chant into the dub stew (plus, big bong rips). The vibe turns urgent by mid-album (hey, it's the Tone Tales tunes!), and downright sketchy and paranoid too (2005). The final track, 2008, features tranquil jungle field recordings, eventually giving way to abrasive, rhythmic samples of deforestation – chopping, sawing, and felling of jungle growth, sending the local fauna fleeing for their lives. Message, much?

Hybrid - Morning Sci-Fi

Distict'ive Records: 2003

(a Patreon Request from Omskbird)

I'm sure I liked Wide Angle - I definitely know I liked Wider Angle for the Live Angle bonus CD. Unfortunately, a few things held back a love for Hybrid's debut album, none more prominent than a sense the duo's artistic pretensions didn't always match the finished product. They wanted to move beyond the easy club fodder, creating high-culture music for a cultured audience. Cool, bro, but that leaves those who adored the breakbeat science wanting in the wind. How can such folks get their flail on when a French rapper is crooning over a trip-hop rhythm?

I won't deny being in that camp, making me wary of checking anything after Wider Angle. Figured Hybrid would continue the super-sophisticated music explorations, the blinding breaks they made their name on a mere stepping stone to higher, loftier goals in the music world, thus a journey I wasn't much interested in joining with. As continues being the case, I should have got that tree trunk out of my rump sooner, because fuck me if Morning Sci-Fi is better than Wide Angle by a... erm, broad space.

It starts as I initially feared (well, properly starts, discounting the secret song hiding in the CD's negative space), with Hybrid throwing oh-so many ideas into a soup of genre fusion, with production ultra-crisp and clean such that it kinda' neuters whatever teeth the song has. Like, there's things I like in True To Form (can never go wrong with a Reese bass growl, and it's nice hearing those New Order vibes from Peter Hook), but with the obligatory orchestral swells and limp lyrics from Adam Taylor, it once again sounds like Hybrid's clutching for musical opulence they just can't quite grasp.

Then Know Your Enemy hits, and hits fuckin' hard with the progressive breaks action I love from these guys, and all is right again. Then third cut Marrakech hits, and I'm thrown for a loop, the tune some sort of psychedelic trip-hop outing that wouldn't sound out of place in a FSOL Environments LP. Ain't no way that's gonna' get a “most moving pieces of electronic music” plaudit, but it definitely earns an uber thumbs-up from me! And while I prefer Hybrid's instrumentals, Adam Taylor sounds great in I'm Still Awake, the music complementing rather than burying him as though his voice is just another layer in an overstuffed cake.

And goodness, how are there so many kick-ass club tracks on this album? It's not as relentless as Live Angle (obviously it couldn't be), but the block featuring Visible Noise, We Are In Control and Higher Than A Skyscraper gives that CD serious competition. The final clutch of tracks gets back to the lyrical stuff, with Kirsty Hawkshaw providing a full range of octaves on the closer Blackout. This was honestly what I was expecting out of Morning Sci-Fi, but given the highly kinetic, super energetic tuneage that preceded it, by all means, Misters Truman and Healings, have at your sophisticated songcraft.

Various - A Taste Of Pork: A Collection Of Pork Recordings

Quango Records: 1995

This is a CD I always saw in the music shops, even as far back as I was allowed to go to the Vancouver music shops. As the years went on, there it forever sat, unloved, uncared, unappetizing. Like, who in their right mind would pay regular price for a compilation with just seven tracks on it, three of which are by the same artist? CDs weren't cheap, and when you're looking to wax twenty bones on a compilation, you want to get as much music as possible on it, with as much variety on it. No wonder those double-disc sets of 'european trance' or those hard house DJ mixes with thirty-five tunes were more appealing. This though, what's appealing about orange cover art talking about pork? Whenever is food a tempting association with music? Unless you have synaesthesia, they interact with completely different senses, generating completely different responses upon your brain-matter. I can no better taste the music than I can hear the ham - I sure as shit ain't shoving some sizzling strips down my earholes!

Still, I've been on a bit of a Quango Records binge as of late, most of their discs quite cheap and easy to come by. I figured there's no harm in dropping a couple loonies for this on the Amazon market, round out a little more of that early jazz-funk downtempo collection that keeps growing. And it makes sense that Bruno Guez would tap Pork Recordings for material for the fledgling Quango, the label the birthing home of future Quango staple Fila Brazillia. In fact, it was co-Fila member Steve Cobby that co-founded Pork Recordings with David 'Porky' Brennand (thus the print's namesake). They even produced a lone white label to kick things off, but it was clear Cobby's production as Fila and Heights Of Abraham (with former members of industrial group Chakk) would do the heavy lifting in Pork's early years.

Hence it's no surprise that of the seven tracks that make up A Taste Of Pork, Steve Cobby is in on all but one of them. As mentioned, Fila Brazillia gets three, Leggy and The Sheriff both doing that funky, chill Latin-jazz thing the duo's always been ace at (as they played back-to-back, I thought they were the same track!). There's also Subtle Body, a surprising ambient-jazz thing with gentle keyboards and twinkling bells with dubby overtones. Meanwhile, Heights Of Abraham get two cuts, The Cleric and E.V.A. (Instrumental), both much chiller and groovier than the Fila Brazillia material, almost treading into ambient dub's domain. Cobby even gets to shows off his solo project Solid Doctor, itself a slightly dubbier take on the burgeoning Kruder & Dorfmeister downtempo stylee.

The lone track breaking up the Cobby showcase is R Resonant from R Earth. This was actually care of a re-issue Pork did for the 1990 single, though why they picked this, I haven't a clue. Is it just because a Kevin Bacon in this group? No, couldn't be that.

Plaid - Not For Threes

Warp Records: 1997

All that mumble-jumbo I said regarding digging into an act's extensive discography? Kinda' moot point when it comes to Plaid's Not For Threes. There's some history behind this album, see, making it one of the duo's more essential LPs out of their discography. The Black Dog was...well, not dead, but when Ed Handley and Andy Turner left Ken Downie to his own devices, there certainly was uncertainty in the air. Could The Black Dog brand continue without their input? What would Misters Handley and Turner do for themselves? Might they explore solo careers, or carry on with their older Plaid alias before The Black Dog stuff overwhelmed their careers? Well, obviously we know the answer to the latter one, as Plaid carries on to this day, but man who saw that in ye' olde year of 1997? Hell, some folks thought we were all gonna' die within three years!

Not that those in the know wouldn't know of Ed and Andy's prior work under the Plaid moniker, having already released an album via Black Dog Productions, Mbuki Mvuki, but it didn't have the same recognition as their work in association with Ken Downie. Not For Threes (is this a dig on their former three-person group? Was there bad-blood in the Black Dog break-up?) had the task of not only marking Plaid as their own entity, but convince Black Dog disciples they were as worthy of their attention as anything released in those seminal years. Getting a couple popular vocalists in Nicolette (Shut Up And Dance, Massive Attack) and Björk (endless namedrops) to contribute some lyrics didn't hurt. Ain't no one sang with Black Dog back then.

Sticking with Warp Records no doubt helped the transition, and the clipper-clop beats and funky-quirky melodic electro of opener Abla Eedio likely allayed any lingering hesitation. They were staying the IDM lane, and going as idiosyncratic with their songcraft as ever. Kortisin, Myopia and Fer are chipper, funky jaunts down tropical boulevards. Headspin gets in on that hyper-jazz trend Squarepusher was, um, pushing. Prauge Radio shows they can be just as noisy bastards as Aphex Twin at his drill 'n' bassiest. Or they could go as mellow as a Balearic dawn, as in Rakimou. Ol reminds you of those heady ambient techno days. Ladyburst sounds like something from a Gorillaz D-side. Lilith has Ms. Björk doing her thing over a skittery trip-hop beat, while Nicolette provides her soul croon to an equally sketchy trip-hop outing in Extork. Milh lets the Plaid boys have their modern classical indulgence. Getting sounds like... a deep-dive jazz session in a SNES game?

And there's plenty more charming IDM wonkery littered throughout Not For Threes, which is nice for those who prefer their IDM a little on the sane side of the apple cart. Why, you might even say Not For Threes is the Plaid album you should have, even if you're not a Plaid fan.

Weekend Players - Pursuit Of Happiness

Multiply Records: 2002

(A Patreon Request from Omskbird)

Andy Cato will forever be known as one-half of the commercial juggernaut that is Groove Armada, but the chap's had a far more fruitful musical career than that pairing with Tom Findlay. He released several house singles under several one-off aliases in the half-decade prior to Vertigo, plus found time for other collaborations with the likes of Mike Monday and Alex Whitecombe. They even flirted with trance on occasion, the group Qattara having some minor success during the genre's commercial heyday (a Paul van Dyk approved hit in Come With Me helped). And while Groove Armada pretty much set him up for life, that collaborative itch didn't end, finding time between that project and DJ gigs to work with other musicians.

One such pairing was with Rachel Foster, a vocalist with very few Discoggian credits to her name prior to meeting with Andy. For whatever reason, a Balearic house bug had bitten Andy, and Ms. Foster provided the suitable pipes needed for his single, 21st Century. Sensing a vibe distinct enough from his work with Tom Findlay, Andy and Rachel dubbed themselves Weekend Players, roped in Groove Armada bassist Jonathan White for the ride, and set about making an album of chill-out compilation fodder.

I'll admit I'd never heard of this project before, but then my Groove Armada interest was only the passing fancy most North Americans had in the wake of singles like I See You Baby and Superstylin'. Certainly not enough to browse into Andy Cato's various projects, though digging through his discography has definitely been enlightening. Pursuit Of Happiness did reasonably well though, tunes like Into The Sun and I'll Be There hitting high marks in that bastion of taste, the US Dance Charts - getting featured in various CSI shows probably helped.

That's all the particulars out of the way, so how's the music then? There's a lot of familiar Groove Armada markers, like 'that trumpet', or 'that light jazz vibe'. With more focus on Ms. Foster's vocals though, Pursuit Of Happiness comes off less cheeky than a lot of G.A.'s stuff – classier, music intended for the coffee shop that uses home-brewed beans rather a corporate farm. Trip-hop that's in its post-Millennium gentrified state (Best Days Of Our Lives, Jericho, Subway, the titular cut), or acid jazz that's kinda' lost as to exactly what it is anymore (Subway). Music for when you want to cruise along charming coastal towns thinking of sandy dunes and salty air, but want something other than that specific Groove Armada song (Higher Ground). Peppy house music giving you true-blue Balearic feels without spending ridiculous sums at tourist traps (Into The Sun, Play On, Through The Trees).

Overall, Pursuit Of Happiness is a charming record, and charted reasonably well for an Andy Cato side-project. In the end though, there's not much that different here than on any number of downtempo albums of the era, and perhaps Weekend Players realized it as well, disbanding a couple years after this record's release.

Tipper - The Critical Path

Higher Ground: 2000

(A Patreon Request from Omskbird)

Despite it soon dominated by *those* basslines, there's a reason why nu-skool breaks was briefly considered among the cutting-edge tuneage in electronic music: producers were eschewing traditional standbys like sampling and bigging-up the beats in favour of cribbing technical innovations from the IDM camps. Micro edits! Digital scratching! Glitchin' that shit up! Of course, by the time the nu-skoolers had gotten their mitts on these toys, the IDM world had long moved on, but it's not like the IDM and breaks scenes would ever cross-pollinate again. (oh hi, Venetian Snares)

Among those early innovators was Dave Tipper, a nu-skool hero for the headier heads (and a glitch-hop favourite when nu-skool became old-n-busted school). He never achieved the same level of commercial fame as other players in this particular scene (Rennie Pilgrim, Adam Freeland, that attention whore BT, who only dabbled in nu-skool but somehow took almost all the glory... *ahem*), but that's how his followers like it. Tipper is their guy, making music for their brain matter. Sure, it's nice you can find him headlining festival stages and all, but he's playing his music for their DMT trip. Why yes, I've had this conversation at the Shambhala Music Festival, why do you ask?

After a couple singles sticking to conventional breaks of the '90s, (big beat, acid crunch, trip-hop), his Twister record marked a sudden change in how his sound would carry forward. The Critical Path is the debut album that followed, and offers ample amounts of that nu-fangled take on the broken-beat. No samples of obscure funk, every piece of rhythm an original construct. Except maybe opener Seldom Vile, in that it at times reminds me of Aphex Twin's Acrid Avid Jam Shred. Hey, I told you nu-skool were aping things IDM had done half a decade prior.

At eleven tracks long, Tipper gets plenty of room to show off all the fancy nu-gimmicks in his computer arsenal, more than half the tracks varied examples of what breaks of the future might evolve into (before the 'tear-out' guys sullied it). This being the year 2000, he gets in a couple trip-hop cuts too, including Zero 7 favourite Sophie Barker on vocals. And what would a breaks album of that period be without a little Hybrid borrowing, a few tunes working in orchestral swells as well.

And the music itself? Well, if you like Phase 1 nu-skool, you probably already have this. It took me a little to get warmed to it myself, and there are portions where Tipper comes down with BT-itis, over-indulging the effects to ludicrous extremes (oh God, are they ever ridiculous in Last Informer - impossible to pay attention to Ms. Barker's lyrics with that much nonsense going on in the background). Overall, I was more impressed by Tipper's sound design than his songcraft, but so long as tunes like Twister, Sort Code, and Supersport have me imagining blistering down hyper-sonic race tracks through ancient temples and lunar colonies, mission accomplished, I say.

808 State - 88:98 (2018 Update)

Universal Records: 1998

(Click here to bang your head against an impenetrable wall of text)

I've severely lagged in my 808 State gathering. Hell, it's almost shameful it took me until just last year to snag me a copy of at least one proper LP from the Manchester group, any LP. ex:el is a decent jumping on point, I suppose, but I'm certain most acid heads declare their first couple of records - Newbuild and Ninety - the only true 808 State albums you're supposed to have, even if you're not an 808 State fan. “But wait!”, say some, “Don't you dare dismiss their post-ex:el material either, Gorgeous and Don Solaris just as worthy of discussion as any of the band's seminal '80s work.”

Yeah, those too, though considering I've seen Gorgeous in the used-shops on occasion, I do have some suspicions of that one's overall quality. Strikes me as the sort of record that I would have stumbled upon back in my exploratory years, picked up to hear why 808 State were held in such high regard, and came away entertained but unimpressed. But hey, until I actually hear Gorgeous in full, I can't make that claim.

For now, all I have to go on is the fact only three of that album's tracks made the cut on this retrospective, whereas ex:el earned a whopping five out of thirteen potential slots. Not to mention none of the songs got a spiffy '98 update like Pacific and Cubik did. No, wait, this is bad logic on my part! Newbuild got jack-shite representation with 88:98, which follows that it's a completely rubbish outing. Well, we must concede it's the least commercially viable for a compilation such as this, but that's probably why so many True Heads adore that acid excursion compared to what came after. Only way you'd hear Flow Coma on the radio is via pirate options.

I cannot deny having 88:98 makes getting the band's post ex:el material a rather low priority. Yeah, you can argue this compilation also makes having ex:el redundant (or the other way around), but c'mon, tracks like Lift and In Yer Face are worth having as many times as possible! If this is meant to be a gathering of their best material though, then I've already heard all the highlights from Gorgeous and Don Solaris, everything else on those albums 'just for the fans' options. Then again, if I went by that logic, then I'd have assumed I wouldn't need anymore tunes off of ex:el, as there's no possible way the five on 88:98 are the peak. Then I heard ex:el, and realized they could have thrown even more on here than what's offered.

There, that should be enough circular rambling to sate anyone. As should be painfully apparent by now, I really have nothing else to add or update with 88:98. It's still a handy intro to 808 State, but far from a complete story. Besides, there's plenty of streaming options for that now anyway. Wow, the 'retrospective CD' market truly is dead, inn'it?

Banco de Gaia - 10 Years (Remixed) (Original TC Review)

Disco Gecko: 2003

(2018 Update:
No, I don't have the actual 10 Years compilation from Mr. Marks. I did, at first. I mean, all those classic Banco tunes, plus assorted rarities like the Jack Dangers rub of How Much Reality Can You Take and the Insect Intelligence version of Amber, gathered onto two discs and all. Of course I got myself that! Then I loaned it out to a friend. Never got it back, though to be fair, I didn't push him to return it either. It's not like it was difficult to 'get' the rare offerings again anyway (most of these can be found on the Rewritten Histories collections now), so I was fine letting 10 Years slide from my coffers. I may be a major Banco fan, but I'm not a completist ...he says while reposting a review for a 'completist only' compilation.

This review is pretty rambly for one of my latter-years TC efforts, probably 33% longer than it needs to be. It's like, whenever I got the chance to talk up Banco at TranceCritic, I didn't hold back one iota. The other reviews I wrote for the website - Maya and Farewell Ferengistan - were absolute behemoths in word count. Thank God for self-imposed word count, though I'm oh-so tempted to break that rule whenever I get around to Big Men Cry.)

IN BRIEF: Ten years of tour mates.

For good and ill, the remix album has become an undeniable part of dance music’s legacy. It’s reached a point where they are not only expected, but even counted upon in some circles. I’ve seen several bemoan a lacklustre album-proper only to follow such sentiments thinking “hopefully the remixes will make this better.” Trance alone has several albums packaged with an additional remix disc, not to mention the endless follow-up remix discs for the bigger releases. Despite some of the positives that come with the endeavor - the odd time a remix actually does an original better, or rounding up rare and obscure remixes into a single package - far too often these CDs are cynical, quick money-grabs, milking an artist’s music for every potential penny. Ultimately though, remix albums for electronic music share the same status live albums from rock bands do: potentially interesting, sometimes brilliant, but usually skippable.

This is what makes a remix CD for Banco de Gaia even more peculiar. Toby Marks has consistently shied away from cheap commercial gains, so you really can’t take 10 Years: Remixed as such. On the other hand, it’s not like there's been a plethora of remixes of Banco tunes over the years, most of which are done by Marks himself. Despite some notable names being given the re-rub task (Oliver Lieb, Speedy J, Jack Dangers), the trend has been Banco de Gaia does the best remixes of Banco de Gaia. However, those were already included on the 10 Years proper album.

Which brings us back to 10 Years: Remixed - specifically, what exactly is this release all about? I suppose doing a remix album is justifiable when it’s in conjunction with a retrospective album, but Marks knew full well there weren’t enough in his back catalog for a proper CD. If such is the case, then how about brand new remixes of a bunch of classic Banco tunes? Sounds good to me, only there’s a catch: instead of hiring out big names or scene mainstays, Marks got in touch with a bunch of his musical associates from over the years and gave them carte blanche to go wild. And if you’ve followed his musical career, you’d know the man from the World Bank has had some wildly eclectic associates, though with more of a leaning towards the global-fusion dance beat (obviously).

I guess what I’m trying to say here is only hard-line fans of Banco de Gaia are going to get much out of this release ; par for the course when it comes to remix albums anyway. If you’ve read this far, then you’re obviously a fan (or incredibly curious), so let me tell you what to expect from 10 Years: Remixed.

First, the familiar. Even here at TC, names such as Eat Static, Loop Guru, and HIA (The Higher Intelligence Agency) have crossed paths (er, mainly because of a certain reviewer’s affinity for a certain producer who’s been tied to them), and as such the groups bring their trademark sounds to the tracks they got to remix. HIA turns the obscure proto psy-dub gem Soufie into a clicky ambient-techno piece, Loop Guru ramp up the ethno-dub styling of Sakarya, and Eat Static gives Lai Lah the psy-trance business, but also throws in a bunch of other samples Marks has used in other tracks (I Love Baby Cheesy, Kuos, etc.).

Meanwhile, other psychedelic and dancehall dub mainstays like Temple Of Sound, Zion Train, Dreadzone, Asian Dub Foundation, Future Loop Foundation, and Transglobal Underground lend their hand, with various results. Some are quite the reworkings, such as Temple Of Sound turning Drunk As A Monk from a kind of prog-rock stomp into a brisk neurofunk excursion; or Dreadzone giving the incredibly somber vocal version of Glove Puppet some rhythmic spring (Jennifer Folker still sounds gloriously tragic though). On the other hand, not much is gained or lost in Future Loop Foundation adding dreamy Balearic tones to Celestine, while Zion Train seems at a loss as to what to do with Shanti, providing a brief and rather generic techno -dub tune in the process (honestly, though, would anyone be able to top Marks’ brilliant Black Mountain Mix?); and what exactly is going on in Obsidian? Transglobal Underground’s stomp-dub go at Amber is ace though.

Now, the obscure and unknowns. Well, 100th Monkey isn’t exactly obscure - it's long-time Banco collaborator Andy Guthrie - but certainly not a name you’ll immediately connect with. Since he’s been familiar with Marks’ work over the years, it’s unsurprising he gives Sunspot a great remix - and it’s also a mash-up with Qurna! Elsewhere on the CD, old school industrial group Perfume Tree - here known as Veloce - does a respectable deep-trance rub of Heliopolis, which rates around the Shanti remix in terms of usefulness. It’s the hopelessly obscure Carbomb that brings us the most ‘leftfield’ cut, turning Drippy into a kind of thrash-metal thing - has to be heard to be believed, even more so that it actually works!

*whew* That’s quite the eye-full for the hardcore Banco fan, I must admit, but given the eclecticism and seemingly random order of all these remixes, it could not be glossed over. Well, it could, but that’s not what we here at TC are about. Where am I going with this? Oh, right… 10 Years: Remixed. There’s a few quality remixes here - see below for which - but this CD’s mostly a ‘completists only’ deal. Although it’s interesting to hear different versions, it’s primarily going to be Banco fans that will appreciate them.

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

Pole Folder - Zero Gold

Bedrock Records: 2005

This has to be one of the most '90s sounding progressive albums I've ever heard. Unfortunately for Pole Folder, Zero Gold came out in 2005, half a decade past when having a top notch '90s progressive album would make serious bank (in that scene, anyway).

For sure this album had its fans and supporters, especially from proponents for progressive purity (I think Progressive-Sounds gave it a 12/10, with a seal of Digweed Approved), but by the mid-'00s, most folks were well past vibing on anything sounding like it came from the Clinton Years. Big beat was dead. Tech step was dead. Happy hardcore was so very, very dead. Instead, newer fresher sounds like liquid funk, electro house, minimal-tech, and whatever it is you want to call Pendulum's style ('Pendulum Jungle'?) was getting the buzz, not to mention a rediscovering of '80s aesthetics after the '90s had disowned it. Progressive house was no different, poppier McProg singles having massive success in the wake of the darker, super-serious 'prog' that came before. By the year 2005, the transition was complete, progressive of days past but a shadow of its former glory, Zero Gold left an album out of time when the kids just wanted to hear another Gabriel & Dresden breakdown. And people wonder why Digweed went 'minimal' after this.

Of course, we're over a decade removed from all that, so the fact Zero Gold was released in 2005 is a moot point. You can throw this album on today and enjoy it for all its '90s-ness, (oh my, Scared To Lose could have been an Erotica-era Madonna track!), maybe even more so since that decade's music has seen some rejuvenation in recent years. Always twenty years, always.

Fancy yourself some of that vintage cinematic trip-hop that made Massive Attack huge stars? Pole Folder's got you well covered, tracks like Abrasion, Waterfalls Of Love, and Faith In Me perfectly custom made for the credit roll of a mid-budget cyberpunk thriller. And speaking of, dear me, does Inner Turmoil ever want to be a Fluke track as heard in The Matrix. Other 'prog' beasts include Salvation On Slavery Sins and London, while Mr. Folder also mixes things up with the broken beats in the spacier Before It All Changes. Elsewhere, in case you absolutely had to have a 'twinkle prog' outing in your 2005 album, Morning Crow does inch around the fringes of that sound.

Like any good '90s prog album, tunes are nicely spaced between the downbeat, lyrical pieces and the club-ready uptempo jams, with enough variety holding your attention throughout. At ten tracks though, Zero Gold feels short, like it's missing a proper coda moment. As the final cut on the album, the energetic Before It All Changes leaves you wanting, suggesting there's more to come after, even if it's just an ambient outro. Maybe that hanging feeling was intended to lead into a sophomore album, but it never happened, Zero Gold remaining Pole Folder's lone LP effort (so sayeth Lord Discogs).

Various - Zentertainment 2004

Ninja Tune: 2004

My early years in the The Big City was tough, financial frugality forcing me to be ultra-picky in what new music I'd buy for myself. After Shadow Records folded though, where could I find a quick fix of jazzy, downtempo urban vibes on a poor student's income? Hello, Ninja Tune, what have you here? A low-budget sampler called Zentertainment 2004. I'd kinda' forgotten about the Ninja folk at that point (despite the 3CD box set Xen Cuts sitting on every store shelf, always), so this looked as handy a reintroduction to their tunes as any.

And the CD opens with exactly the right stuff I was expecting, Skalpel's 1958 the sort of broken-beat, jazzdance, cut'n'paste track one can't help but associate with the label that Coldcut built. Yeah, there were other prominent prints that dabbled in the sound, but they had no Cinematic Orchestra or Hexstatic on their roster. Speaking of, Hexstatic's super-funky Chase Me comes next, about as vintage of Ninja Tune funk as you can get. In fact, at the time I heard it, I couldn't help but get a nagging sense of the label not evolving much since the '90s. I didn't mind it, but surely there'd been a few new sounds they could be promoting in the year 2004 too. What even was going down in London undergrounds around that time anyway?

Ah, here's a new cat, some dude by the name of Diplo. His Don't Fall is kinda' different from what I normally expected of Ninja Tune, a broken-beat that's got a prominent half-step shuffle going for it. All those cut-up funk and jazz samples though, doesn't sound too different from Amon Tobin's efforts. Maybe if he focuses more on his rhythms, and doesn't rely so much on emulating what Ninja Tune alum have done, this Diplo chap might find himself a healthy career.

Like that Sixtoo guy, at the end of the CD. Holy cow, his Boxcutter Emporium is over ten minutes of various vibes, an utterly epic outing of trip-hop, illbient, and the sort of instrumentals RZA would get weak in the knees over. And what's with that weird mid-section, with the half-step rhythms and skitchy bassline that's like a buzzing sawblade cutting through the beats? Pretty dope, is what, definitely what I envisioned getting hyped in the London underground. And the dude's Canadian too? Mark my words, us Canucks will be defining this weird sound in the future years, believe you me!

A few familiar Ninja Tune names round out Zentertainment 2004 (Jaga Jazzist, Wagon Christ, Blockhead, cLOUDDEAD), plus the dancehall/grime scene gets a look-in too (Lotek HiFi's Ram Dancehall, Infinite Livez' Worcestershire Sauce). Yep, that's about as tidy a sum-up of Ninja Tune in the year 2004 as you're gonna' get. Still, none of this is exclusive to this CD, so unless you find it dirt cheap in the pawn shops or you're a Ninja completist, there isn't much reason to get Zentertainment 2004 fourteen years on.