Pete Namlook - The Definitive Ambient Collection: Volume 2

Rising High Records: 1994

Pete Namlook’s discography remains a daunting one to dive into, thanks in no small part to the deliberate scarcity of his early work. Story goes he never intended his Fax+ releases to attain any level of commercial success, pressing limited runs of 1,000 whenever he invited someone over for a jam session in his studio and leaving it at that. It strikes me as a crafty entrepreneurial tactic within the ambient scene at large, all these limited run releases. Few things make tangible items more alluring than rarity.

Musically, one must consistently deliver for hard copy hunters to willingly lay down that extra cash, and Namlook’s output featured a plethora of classics and gems for early 90s ambient and techno enthusiasts. There was also a lot of middling dross, in that he and his collaborators seldom had specific visions in mind beyond broad ideas. Much of their output comes across like jazz for ambient heads: plenty of ingenuity and enjoyment for the die-hard, but noodly wank for anyone else.

Rising High Records did most of the UK legwork for Fax+ distribution, several releases appearing on assorted albums and compilations. Namlook was assigned the task of gathering leftovers into these Definitive Ambient comps, which doesn't make these terribly definitive, does it.

Though lacking any of the true Namlook classics, this second volume does feature some of his more memorable projects: Silence (with Dr. Atmo), Dreamfish (with Mixmaster Morris), Escape (Dr. Atmo again), Sequential (with DJ Criss), and Hearts Of Space (with Pascal F.E.O.S.), plus his solo work as Air. Not a bad roster, but the track selection's wonky, ultra-long pieces interspersed with short sonic doodles. Confounding the listening experience is, despite Namlook's presence throughout, there's little similarity between these collaborations, thus the flow's bizarre.

Case in point: the 22-minute long Garden Of Dreams, sitting at the third position, and surrounded by three musically unrelated tracks not even reaching the same length in total. The track itself is incredibly New Age, relying on soft crystalline pads and voices for half its run time before meditative percussion emerges. Despite its ambient nature, it leaves you exhausted, and you forget there's still over half a CD to go through. Saturn Cruises, just two tracks later and fifteen minutes long, leaves you in a similar state, though I can vibe on its slow space acid groove much better (plus, anything involving Saturn’s fucking awesome!). Fishology's position at the end is much better for a long track, capping the album off with fun bleepy ambient techno. Such behemoths unfortunately render nearly everything else forgettable, even though tracks like Duane Sky and 1st Impression are fine tunes.

This is far from a classic compilation, most of these cuts available on the original albums from which they were culled. Even the Pete Namlook ‘mix’ isn’t much of a hook, very little blending occurring between tracks. Get it if you find it cheap, but the odds of that happening are low.

Various - Deepwater Black: Inclonation Vol. One (Original TC Review)

Koch Records: 1997

(2012 Update:
This one again? I swear I've given this compilation more attention than anyone else. Or maybe it just feels that way since I've gotten a lot of mileage out of these tunes for one reason or another. Still a recommended CD if you find it super-cheap. And hoo boy, I really did get my geek on with this review, didn't I? No shame.)


IN BRIEF: Obscure tie-in compilation for obscure sci-fi TV show.

Far be it for us to occasionally review unknown EDM releases, but now we’re also covering unknown TV shows too? Hardly, but these Random Reviews do have a tendency to drag along quirky fun-facts from other fields. Here’s what we have in this case.

Deepwater Black - or Mission Genesis in parts American - was a short-lived Canadian-filmed TV series based on a trilogy of books written by New Zealander Ken Catran that aired in the latter half of ‘97. It holds the somewhat dubious distinction of being the first original series produced by the Sci-Fi Channel - ‘dubious’, because Sci-Fi Channel has an unfortunately long history of under-produced, somewhat cheesy original shows. On the other hand, this was at a time when television sci-fi was quite popular, so there probably wasn’t much harm in at least trying it. Just keep the cast small and unknown, the CGI special-effects video-game level (hey, it worked for Babylon 5’s first season, and that show went on to be critically hailed as one of the best sci-fi shows for most of the 90s), and your stories somewhat compelling for sci-fi, and you really couldn’t go wrong.

For what it’s worth, the show did have a strong premise: a sextet of young adults emerge from cryogenic sleep on a starship, discover they are in fact prematurely awakened clones designed to repopulate a decimated human population, and thus head back to Earth to do so, getting into adventures along the way. To the show’s benefit, the writers of the series decided to go the ‘bleak sci-fi’ style, which resulted in some fairly grim stories - when your backstory involves a virus wiping out the human race, how could you not? Oh, and irresistibly-cute Nicole de Boer was one of the leads (her pre-Deep Space 9 role - god, am I ever getting my geek on here…); even if the show was utterly lame, I could watch her any day!

Fortunately, Deepwater Black wasn’t lame, though it was obviously produced on the cheap and didn’t last long. Plus, it was just a little too youth focused. Mind, it’s understandable that it would be, as Canadian network YTV (no, I won’t tell you what that stands for - it’s really, really obvious) was a co-producer of the show, but that did effectively limit the potential audience since most teenaged sci-fi fans would have probably been more dedicated to shows like Trek, B5, or Xena anyway. Still, 13 episodes aired, and it’s retained cult status for the curious, at least at a level of any second-tier anime series.

Oh, and they also released a CD in conjunction with the show.

Actually, it was this CD that even clued me into Deepwater Black, as I saw it floating about in the racks at the music shop I worked for at the time. Naturally, my, er, ‘raver curiosity’ was intrigued by the tracklist. My manager seemed to be the opposite: “Oh yeah, that’s that show that has those kids with the funny hair,” he mentioned (huh?). I had no idea what he was talking about, especially so since Deepwater Black had been cancelled for a year by then, but any show that featured as varied names as The Prodigy, Delerium, Jonny L, and Gary Numan couldn’t be all bad, could it?

That’s the quirky thing about this CD though: aside from the Fred Mollin-penned theme song (Inclonation), none of these songs were ever in the series. Rather, and I quote from the liner notes: “These tracks do not necessarily appear in the Deepwater Black series, but do represent part of the producers’ dwb psyche.” Like, how, exactly? They were listening to these tracks while writing and filming the show? They just took the opportunity to make a kind of mixtape for fans of the show? Yet another excuse to milk an ‘electronica’ compilation (this was, after all, 1997)?

Still, even if you were to go with the cynical option, this is a surprisingly varied CD that manages to retain a decent spacey theme. The only track I’d really pin down as being an ‘electronica’ compilation cliché is Emperion’s Narcotic Influence; and maybe Delerium’s Euphoria (that one was getting all the promotional buzz on the heels of the album Karma), but the rest do manage to stand out from your standard ’97 ‘electronica’ glut. For instance, of all the Prodigy tracks to choose from, The Heat? Really? That’s… unexpected. Then you get spaced-out drum’n’bass from Jonny L’s Treading, Underworld cool-groove from Moonshine big-beat heroes Cirrus, the earliest of early productions from broken-beat producer Moonstarr (tripped-out acid jazz in Imperial Starr Cruiser’s case), underground hip-hop from Toronto act Mood Ruff… essentially a lot of psychedelic break-beats and chilled-out trip-hop to be had here. Then finally, of course, Gary Numan’s Metal - the original thirty-year old version. Talk about your musical swerves.

The association this CD has with Deepwater Black is fleeting at best (space-themed show - space-themed music?), but it’s a fine EDM compilation in its own right. Varied yet consistent, familiar tunes rubbing shoulders with overlooked gems, plus a sense that whoever did gather up these tracks, it was for a love of the music itself rather than trying to cash-grab with obvious hits. Granted, it’s yet another one of those releases that you won’t miss if you don’t pick it up (on the cheap, of course), yet nor will you be disappointed should you decide to check it out anyway.

Much like Deepwater Black itself, really.

Deep Forest - Deep Forest

Columbia: 1992

Deep Forest was far from the first to do ‘ethnic samples with a dance beat’, but no one else had as much commercial success with it as Eric Mouquet and Michel Sanchez on their self-titled debut, including themselves. For better or worse (mostly worse), it kicked off the pop side of world beat (‘global pop’?) flooding the Easy Listening sections of music stores with Pure Moods compilations and such bilge. For every half-decent tune that’d emerge from that scene, there’d be dozens of cheap knock-offs cozying up with New Age and smooth jazz composers. *shudder*

Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, though. In 1992, ethnic sampling was still fashionable and Deep Forest happened across a few such samples that provided them with the blueprints to make some pretty decent music. Much like that other French guy who was behind Enigma, their initial success lay in appealing to club culture first - the crossover fame came later. Over half the album is uptempo and dancefloor friendly, well-worn drum loops and tribal grooves dominating their wordly vision. It’s almost a shame Deep Forest’s primarily known for chill out music, as the beats provided in Deep Forest, Savana Dance, and White Whisper give most mainstream club rhythms of the time a run for their money.

But yes, it’s the pygmy chants that stood Deep Forest out from the crowd. I’d hardly call what they do with their samples unique, but they are creative and memorable. Whether as full verses or snippets to form parts of backing melodies, these voices from Africa (and the Solomons) worm their way into your ears such that you’ll be humming the words along despite not knowing what’s being said. Their technique was so effective that Sweet Lullaby became an international sensation. Yay global unity!

For the electronic geek in me, two other things make Deep Forest especially enjoyable. First, pads. Oh yes, pads again. Even when there’s a vigorous beat or emphatic chant, so many lovely, calm ambient textures flow through this album, never devolving into New Age noodle-pap, a remarkable feat considering the musical context. Also, though obviously dated by current standards, Mouquet and Sanchez make ample use of stereo effects, samples and percussion weaving back and forth across the channels, turning this into a fun little headphone album.

Deep Forest was re-released a couple years later as World Mix, which added an additional song Forest Hymn and assorted remixes (including a couple from Apollo 440, whereby Deep Forest returned the favor by remixing Liquid Cool, appearing on that Sasha & Diggers mix). I’d imagine this version’s the cheaper of the two just for this fact, but it’s not like either are rare. This was a multi-platinum album and despite some dated artifacts of the era it was produced, still holds up well enough. It has none of the sap you’d expect from mainstream world beat, and never oversells its intents. It’s global music at its charming best.

Human Blue - A Decade Of Dance: Best Of - Part 1 (Original TC Review)

Transient Records: 2008

(2012 Update:
The good news is Spiral Trax is still operating, though in far lesser capacity than years past. The bad news is ol' Dag hasn't released much of anything since these retrospectives. I don't know whether he called it quits or is simply taking an extended break from production. Guess check back in half a decade for a 2016 Update?)


IN BRIEF: Only a taster.

Human Blue isn’t obscure. In fact, Dag Wallin’s project has a few albums to his name, not to mention been featured on several compilations over the past ten years. Considering the incredibly high turnover ratio of psy trance producers, he’s actually done quite well for himself to keep plugging along. Yet were you asked to name off the top of your head a ‘Human Blue classic’, chances are you’ll be hard pressed to respond with anything immediate. That lack of any recognizable hit singles has kept his profile out in the fringes of trance-land, which some may say has been for the better. Less corruption from popular trends… keeping trance ‘real’… those sorts of reasons.

Truthfully though, the reason Human Blue didn’t break out the same way others have is due to the very nature of his music. He’s primarily a progressive trance producer, but when he was releasing his first singles in the late 90s, Wallin didn’t follow suite with what the superstar UK DJs were pushing as that sound – rather, he decided to draw influence from psy trance instead. For better or worse, this instantly ‘ghettoized’ his work (that is, if you consider outdoor parties surrounded by a bunch of hippies as ‘trance ghetto’, heh), which is a shame because there are many tracks of his that could have fit snuggly into trance sets from that time.

So, Wallin wasn’t really progressive trance, but nor was he really psy. Sure, there were some elements here and there, but for a form of music that has long been characterized as busy and, er, psychedelic, Wallin’s tunes were comparatively simple; few superfluous squiggly bits and such. Rather, it was more groove orientated, with attention paid to building upon rhythmic layers rather than messing around with head-fuck effects. It became known as a distinctively Swedish take on psy trance, a sound shared by other prominent producers such as Vibrasphere and Atmos, and nurtured on the label Spiral Trax. It was progressive, yet also psy. It was… prog psy!

With prog psy being heralded as the last refuge for pure trance lovers in recent years, folks who fancy the stuff should be pleased that one of the originators of the sound has now released a pair of retrospective collections. When Spiral Trax folded in ’06 (though they’ve since re-opened), Wallin signed with long-time psy tastemaker label Transient, and promptly decided to gather up a bunch of Human Blue tracks that have grown increasingly difficult to procure. Why, though, spread it out over two independent CDs rather than release it as a double-disc set? Senseless, I says.

The reason for us choosing to cover Part 1 of A Decade Of Dance is purely arbitrary; similarly, so seems the consideration behind the track selection. There really isn’t much to differentiate the two releases, as they both equally cover the same time period, and the stylistic variation between them is nil. That said, Part 1 follows mostly a chronological selection, and you can notice the ever-so gradual shift in Wallin’s work as he moved from a pure prog trance sound to something a little more groovier. Only two tracks fall out of the Human Blue timeline, the unreleased Space Blues (probably the most rhythmically intense track out of the bunch here) and Breaking Limits, from the ’99 album Ice - you can definitely hear the early goa influences with this one. Everything else follows a similar pattern: basic beats and tones are laid out early, gradually building in rhythmic energy before some minor melodic ideas are introduced, finally capping off with everything coming together. Fortunately, the strength of Wallin’s production keeps things fresh through each tune, if not exhilarating.

And yes, the lack of variation is a chief quibble to be had with this CD. Part 1 is by no means a dull playthrough - I’d only rate Virtual Turnaround as a weak link - but the relative sameness throughout the disc keeps its overall rating mired in that annoying six-to-seven range so much music ends up; it’s just not quite a solid seven, but certainly far better than a six. Were we to utilize PitchforkMedia’s rating system, Part 1 would be something like 6.8473π²÷10 , but since we here at TranceCritic aren’t twits, I’ll just round it up to 7.

If anything, this is a nice little primer into the Human Blue discography. This or Part 2 (should you have picked that up instead) is easily enough to get you started on what Wallin’s music is all about, with just the right amount of potential tease to tantalize you further should you be curious enough to dig deeper.

The Future Sound Of London - Dead Cities

Virgin: 1996

A true magnum opus from The Future Sound Of London. Opinion tends to divide over which of their albums is their absolute best (Lifeforms? One of the latter Environments? The Isness... no.) but in terms of cinematic narratives via expansive soundscapes, Dead Cities is hard to beat. It helps that it’s one of their only albums to have a definitive theme right from the outset in the title. What’s exactly dead about these cities? Might that creepy guy on the cover and the stark artwork surrounding him be a clue? Dive right in, noble listener, and discover for yourself.

It’s probably not thought of much nigh fifteen years on, but Dead Cities was bold for its time. Backed by Virgin’s megabucks and promotion, The FSOL were being counted on to help propagate the ‘electronica’ surge. Undoubtedly the ‘artier’ group of a roster that included The Chemical Brothers, Daft Punk, and Massive Attack, they were given relative free reign on Lifeforms and ISDN. Lacking a proper hit though, it wouldn’t surprise me if Virgin started tapping their feet while leering over The FSOL’s shoulder as 1996 drew near. Well then, here’s a track that’s all ‘big beaty’ for ya’, We Have Explosive. Hell, you can even use it as the main theme for that futuristic racing video game you’re tied to if you like. Now let us get back to our studio, thank you very much. Well, maybe.

Here’s the thing about the rockin’ Explosive, and nearly any cut off Dead Cities: as standalone pieces of music, they’re all solid offerings. Even some of their transitional interludes were good enough to earn titles (somewhere, in that mess of a tracklist on the back). Variety comes in spades, tons of genres, sub-genres, and sonic experiments finding their way in bits and pieces that it’d take a 2,000 word review to detail it all (look at one of the old ones floating around TranceCritic for proof!). Scattershot IDM breaks. Bubbling ambience. Sampledelic psychedelia. Desolate opera, charming cyber-folk, lounge jazz, and piano noodling. 303s and 808s. Cheeky hidden metal.

Cool, then. Good tracks, download the best ones and all that, right? Nah, what makes Dead Cities a cut above is how the whole truly is greater than the sum of its parts. Whether The FSOL had an intended vision or allowed the listener to come up with their own, each track details another piece of their post-apocalyptic narrative. Hell, We Have Explosive, a tune that, as an obvious ‘electronica’ single should not have fit at all, serves as an inciting cataclysm to the whole enterprise (following it with such a beautiful, mournful somber piece in Everyone In The World Is Doing Something Without Me perfectly sells it too). I’ve often imagined the latter half of the album as a chronicle of the survivors discovering remnants of civilization deep underwater but personal interpretations will vary. Take a listen for yourself and let me know what springs forth from your imagination!

Eat Static - De-Classified

Solstice Music Europe: 2007

I hated this when I first heard it, so much that I exiled it from my “To Review” list at TranceCritic, allowing it to collect dust on an MP3 disc off in a corner. I couldn't bring myself to slam one of the most unique psy acts I'd enjoyed, and perhaps a part of me couldn’t believe their career had come to this. I didn't even care about the music, it was how it all sounded! That... that... plastic production that so much psy of the mid-00s came out with, and now an elder statesman of that scene, the ever awesome Eat Static, had succumbed to it. And to top it all off, a full-on track! Now they're bandwagon jumpers too? No, this just won't do. I deny De-Classified's existence!

Of course, I was a moronic douche-nob. There were tracks I recall liking on that initial playthrough, but because I stubbornly dismissed the album outright, I never gave it a second chance until recently, where I discovered there's a lot of kick-ass music to be had here.

Not that this is Eat Static's best work. The production does come off plastic and fresh ideas are few, the duo having explored most of all they can the decade prior. That don't matter though, as Eat Static going through the motions outclasses nearly any other psy act into touch.

I may not enjoy the sheen this album comes in, but I cannot deny the space it provides all these fun, quirky sounds Eat Static throws into their tunes. Everything comes in crystal clear, and those soaring space melodies have seldom sounded more brilliant than they do in Trantaloid, Brassneck, and Tractor Beam. Oh, speaking of Tractor Beam, holy shit, does this song rock! Eat Static's dabbled in jungle before with great results, but this cut stands tall and proud with anything they’ve ever done. Why the hell did I overlook this before? God, was I an idiot.

Even within De-Classified's limited ‘for the party’ scope, their alien mojo is in as fine of form as ever. Strong hooks courtesy of Visitors and Trantaloid; fun downtempo funk in Invaders and Panchama; groove-heavy psy freakouts in Deadly Amphibian and Brassneck; even that full-on track (Sin-Quest) is good. I'd still put albums like Abduction and Science Of The Gods as better overall CDs, but De-Classified has enough going for it that any casual fan of latter-day psy should give it a shot.

One problem though: this thing's hard to come by, at least at reasonable prices. It’s rare to find used copies under the $20 mark, much less a brand new one. There’s MP3 versions, but something tells me the old Eat Static mark’s gonna want his physical copy. To that end, unless you happen upon a deal, De-Classified isn’t worth that much investment. Seeing as how this remains their last proper full-length though, it’d be unfortunate if it goes disregarded due to scarcity (rather than stupid ignorance in my case).

Spicelab - A Day On Our Planet

Harthouse America: 1995

I got this shortly after my Dark Hearts 1 experience, the familiar Harthouse logo and Lieb production credits assuring me this was a can’t miss album. Well no, it was actually the charming 90s CG cover art that drew me in, thereby allowing the above to do the rest when I flipped it over. Something seemed off though. Only four tracks? My relatively young experience with trance music couldn’t fathom it, most prior bought compilations and albums holding at least ten to twelve cuts. Okay, these were long songs, averaging between fifteen and twenty minutes each, but I’d never heard trance music of such length before. How could it be done?

Intros, that’s it. Extended ambient soundscapes building atmosphere before proper rhythms and melodies hit. And don’t execute just one single musical idea either, expand upon it, then change things up midway through, creating different parts and sections like a prog rock opus. Don’t forget those outros either. And should you feel inclined to take an odd tangent, by all means go for it! There, fifteen minutes easily taken care of.

I recall reading that Oliver Lieb considered his Spicelab alias an outlet for experiments, even when staying within the confines of whatever sound typified hard electronic music of the time. This coming out during the first wave of trance, there’s definitely an undercurrent of sci-fi delights and spacey melody, coming up strong in up-front hooks on Falling and We Have Spice. On the other half of the album, hard tech-edged and electro sounds dominate, anything resembling a hook often shunted to the side except at key points - vintage voice pads at the climax of A Day On Our Planet and orchestral stabs at the end of Planet Spice. Throughout it all, nothing feels superfluous, though sometimes Lieb does take his sweet time getting to the point.

Oh, and beats? Seeing as how the first two cuts are straight-forward enough, the rhythms tend to be functional, but ‘functional Lieb beats’ outclasses many, so that’s fine here. Things get wonky on the back-half, with an odd pattern in A Day On Our Planet that somehow remains 4/4, and tougher techno dominating Planet Spice. Of course, anyone familiar with his forays into blistering tech-trance under the L.S.G. or S.O.L. monikers won’t be that thrown off, but it’s definitely enough to make these tunes a challenge for the doe-eyed trancecracker discovering Spicelab.

A Day On Our Planet is worth your time and pennies if you’re looking for trance that dares to break with convention, as there’s been scant little like this released after. Why is that, exactly? Techno and house are still releasing twenty minute long tracks, even though they’re often nothing more than slowly evolving loops. Come on, trance producers, let’s see more attempts at tunes breaking the fifteen minute barrier. I know there’s a few of you out there with the production chops, the musical ingenuity, and the gargantuan ball sacks to make it happen.

Pink Floyd - The Dark Side Of The Moon

Capitol Records: 1973

One of two Pink Floyd albums you're supposed to have even if you're not much of a Pink Floyd fan. Hell, it's one of about a dozen rock albums you're supposed to have even if you're not much of a rock music fan. I do likes me some rockin' and some rollin', but the Floyds never hooked me, which is odd considering how much of a Banco de Gaia fanboy I am. Maybe I'll fall sway to their mopey, trippy charms some day.

You don't need to digest their discography to enjoy Dark Side Of The Moon though. This is a very good record, great, classic even. Don't take my word for it, just ask every single rock publication that has ever existed ever. Or if you don't believe me, throw on your local classic rock station to hear it for yourself. Chances are you'll hear almost all of it throughout the course of a day, maybe even the whole thing if you happen across a Pink Floyd tribute hour.

Still, this is an electronic music blog (most of the time), so I suppose I should mention some of the electronic things on this album. There's On The Run, the bloopy synth-effects second track that every young raver hears for the first time and thinks, “Holy shit, Pink Floyd could do that!? Maybe there's a remix of it!” And then they find said remix, which is nothing more than a 909 kick added or something equally lame, coming away disappointed by the wasted potential. Not that I was such a young raver, mind, but I did come across a few who thought they'd stumbled upon something revolutionary when discovering some white label bootleg of On The Run (Added Kick Mix).

Fortunately, there’re better remix efforts of Dark Side Of The Moon over the years, including Dub Side Of The Moon by the Easy Star All-Stars that got a lot of positive press at the time. I don't have that one, nor am I inclined to hear it if I'm honest. I like dub and I like Dark Side, but not at the same time, which is funny considering the studio trickery occurring in this album could be considered dub music as well.

Y’know, if I’m being honest about that, I’ll be honest about this: I wasn’t in the mood to hear Dark Side right now. It’s music that lets you savour a strong mope, best enjoyed on gray, wet, miserable, morning-after days that folks claim perfectly captures England’s stiff upper lip. I was in a good mood, dammit. The sky was blue and full of sun. I got new music in the mail. A lab mark I thought would bomb came back a near perfect. My back didn’t hurt. I had ice in my glass. Cheers, Mr. Pink & His Floyds, for ruining my day. Why do I have this again? Oh yeah, because I’m supposed to have it.

Alright, the music’s good too, great, classic even.

Afrika Bambaataa - Dark Matter Moving At The Speed Of Light (2012 Update)

Tommy Boy: 2004

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.)

It’s time for a confession. I knew about Afrika Bambaataa within my first year of enjoying 'techno', even heard a couple tracks. I didn't know who he was though, until nearly three years later, and even then I had no idea of his legacy. I can only claim pre-internet teenage ignorance, but far as I was concerned, ol' Bam' was responsible for such euro-dance hits like Feel The Vibe and Feeling Irie, thus he was a euro-dance guy, but not as successful as major players like 2 Unlimited, Haddaway, or Culture Beat. Hang your head in shame, teenage Sykonee. Hang it low.

No doubt, that contributed to me covering Dark Matter Moving At The Speed Of Light for TranceCritic, as I hoped whatever trancecracker readers we acquired at the time would learn something about the Godfather Of Hip-Hop (a.k.a.: the Amen Ra Of Universal Hip-Hop Culture; a.k.a.: the Father Of The Electro Funk Sound; a.k.a.: the Grand Poobah Of Funky Vox; a.k.a.: the...). Sadly, it was one of my early stupid-long reviews, so who knows if my goal was achieved.

Where does this leave us now, nearing a decade on? Limbo, I guess. Make no mistake, this is still a solid album, even if the back-end drags, but it came out when crunk reigned supreme. The positive party vibe of Bambaataa’s music couldn’t cut it against the raw, sloppy aggression from Lil’ Jon’s factory. The other side of club culture didn’t pick up on this either. Only Metal got played out, though I suspect it was DJs making use of an updated version of a Gary Numan classic.

No matter what he does in the twilight of his career, Bambaataa’s legacy will remain intact. Cuts like Planet Rock and Looking For The Perfect Beat are guaranteed to play out for several years to come (hopefully without any silly trend-whoring remixes along the way). It’s just a shame his last proper album failed to carry on his resurgence brought about in the late 90s, when everything about its execution dictated it should have.

Or... I dunno. If folks won’t throw some love for Dark Matter, how about his euro-dance years? Yes, yes! Oh come on, how can you resist such goofy hoover fun like Pupunanny? What, you prefer that UB40 collaboration? An old roommate had that on vinyl. I wasn’t even tempted to hear it. Yeah, working with Fort Knox Five in recent years was definitely the wiser choice for ol’ Bam’s résumé. And of course there was Leftfield, James Brown, Uberzone, Adamski, Westbam, Black Devil Disco Club (no, not Black Rebel Motorcycle Club), several others...

Okay, ol’ Bam’s done good for himself. Do yourself good too and check this album out if you haven’t already.

Various - Dark Hearts 2: A Harthouse Compilation

Harthouse America: 1995

I knew this existed for as long as I knew Dark Hearts 1 existed, as they both appeared on the 'dark trance' list I recently reminisced about. Unlike the first volume though, this turned into quite the elusive little CD to find. It probably didn't have to be, as a search on Amazon likely would have located a cheap used copy if I waited long enough, with most old Harthouse America CDs plentiful there. Instead, I played the patient game, waiting for it to turn up in a shop I happened to be browsing through, perhaps as a silly attempt at CD-buying nostalgia as it was how I found the first one.

No, wait, that's not right. I was hesitant. When I finally looked up proper info regarding Dark Hearts 2 in the infant Discogs, something about it seemed off. The cover was colder, uninviting. The tracklist lacked many of the names that made the first one such a classic. For sure, it was intriguing, but a hunch told me it couldn't live up to the expectations set out by Dark Hearts 1, thus I allowed it to slip from my “Must Have” list, falling to the “If I Stumble Upon It” one instead.

Turns out my hunch was correct. Had I bought this in my trancecracker year, I’d have dismissed it outright. A lot older and a little wiser now, I find things interesting and enjoyable among these ten tracks, but nothing revolutionary or unique either. The inlay tries to make the case that Dark Hearts 2 is about exploring new ground in techno, discovering where the genre could go next in the year of 1995. Admirable in ambition, but the results aren’t terribly revolutionary, even for then.

Mostly, we get attempts at jazz-techno fusion. Alter Ego turn in a strong cut, though it’s not surprising they’d be ace at it given some of their early work wouldn’t sound out of place in an alien lounge. Neil Landstrumm, Braincell, and Hardfloor also have a go, Hardfloor’s Pepper Penalty the best of this lot because, well, acid (thick, slow breakbeats don’t hurt either). The other half of Dark Hearts 2 consists of more traditional techno, though each cut offering something experimental to spice things up. Aside from BCJ’s Boulderdash (an alias of CJ Bolland), I just ain’t feelin’ these - Thor Inc.’s Here Comes The Sun is particularly annoying, sounding muffled as though my ears need popping. All wasn’t lost though, as Frank de Wulf’s Drums In A Grip was a track I wanted for years but could never find. Yay for that.

Ultimately, what makes Dark Hearts 2 a lesser compilation than the first one is its lack of cohesion. Dark Hearts 1 showcased an excellent roster of producers and their spacey music, plus crafted an otherworldly narrative with partial blends between tracks. That’s not the case here, tracks starting and stopping without flow, and the tone grounded by jazz cabarets in warehouses down the streets of Detroit.