Wu-Tang Clan - Enter The Wu-Tang (36 Chambers)

BMG Music Canada: 1993

I’ve made no secret of my love of the Shaolin crew. It was the Wu that opened my ears proper-like to the possibilities of hip-hop ingenuity, but even before then I had a level of respect for the odd tune I heard from the group. It took a while to catch on though, in no small part because my teenage years were spent on the West Coast. True, the Canadian West Coast, but G-Funk ruled my peers’ Discmans, thus I seldom gave anything East Coast notice. Oh, those wacky years when regional distances mattered.

So I entered the temple that RZA built and began digesting whatever Wu material I could. Problem was I came a tad late, thus my early Wu consumption was almost all post-Forever material. And while there were still a few solid releases under the Wu flag at the turn of the century, it paled compared to the pre-Forever era. It was a while before I bothered checking it out though, largely the fault of a CD called The RZA Hits, essentially a collection of the best cuts from those early albums. “Why should I get Enter The 36 Chambers,” I thought, “when half the album’s already on The RZA Hits?” Man, bring out the Australian boot, ‘cause I deserve an extra punishing kick for that one.

Fact is every cut off here could have ended up on The RZA Hits. That’s how bloody good this album is. Rowdy bangers (Bring Da Ruckus, Wu-Tang Clan Ain’t Nuthing Ta F’ Wit), posse anthems (Protect Ya Neck, Da Mystery Of Chessboxin’, Wu-Tang: 7th Chamber), introspective moments (C.R.E.A.M., Can It Be All So Simple Then) or individual showcases (Method Man, Clan In Da Front, Shame On A Nigga… kind of), this album’s got everything one can hope out of a hip-hop release. But hey, you should already know that. Even if you haven’t heard any of these cuts (!!), you’ve at least heard about its classic status within the hip-hop canon. Two decades on, it hasn’t lost its shine.

Or rather, none of the raw, unvarnished grit has worn away. As the Wu were still very much of the street at this point, there’s no fine studio polish or immaculate production here. The RZA made do with what he had and got ridiculous mileage out of the bare-bones drum kits and samplers. It of course helps to have eight outstanding MCs (Masta Killa’s only here for one verse) on hand spitting fire throughout. Enter The Wu-Tang was already an incredibly unique and distinctive sounding record in ’93, thus it’s more remarkable each MC is just as unique and distinctive as well. I’ll deal with them when I come to their solo albums though. In the meanwhile, you get on Enter The Wu-Tang, as it’s one of about ten rap albums you’re supposed to have even if you’re not much of a fan of hip-hop.

(As an aside, this is also my one-hundredth review since writing them again. Celebrating in style!)

Komakino - Energy Trancemission

Hypnotic: 1996

During my first year of following ‘techno’, I was at least aware of trance. The second CD I ever owned had that Jam & Spoon remix of Age Of Love on it, and the occasional euro-dance disc I picked up in following years would have a crossover hit like Dance 2 Trance’s Take A Freefall. It took a while before I realized the genre was something entirely separate though, and even when I did, my allegiance seldom strayed from my initial passion. Yet, euro was growing stale, and I started hearing sounds from fellow dance-enthusiasts that was similar but rawer - more underground, the only thing linking them together a Music Research seal on the jewel cases.

When I went on a shopping expedition to Vancouver, I searched for CDs with that seal. The first one I spotted had a bizarre cover of a woman in face paint, her tongue sticking out with a cap of (presumably) ecstasy on the tip. I bought the CD blind, threw it on at another shop while demoing high-end headphones (I had a lot of money at the time), and within the first minute of the first track, came to a startling conclusion: euro-dance was dead to me; Komakino had killed it.

Outface was my first proper exposure to hard German trance, and you couldn’t ask for a better example of the genre: blistering beats, stuttering voice-pads, piano hooks, and even “motherfucking breakbeats!” Under various aliases, Ralph Fritch and Detlef Hastik were highly instrumental in the development of the sound, but none more so than their live gig name of Komakino. It’s almost a shame the only full-length they released under the guise, Energy Trancemission, is little more than a collection of their prior work, but they’d amassed enough choice material to warrant a retrospective even in ’96.

Suitably, it kicks off with Outface, but then takes a backtrack to their hard-techno rave roots with Law & Order, Dark Zone, and the trancier Frogs In Space. Even in the latter two you can hear the tropes that would come to define the hard trance of the mid-90s.

It was with the driving melodies that got Komakino the most attention though, and the middle of the album features the biggest hits of that era: Feel The Melodee, Beyond Your Dreams, and Controlling Transmission, which they released as Final Fantasy. They are, without a doubt, hard German trance at its best. Energetic rhythms, acid, and memorable melodies that either send you floating on ecstasy or take you on epic adventures (no, not High Adventure, that was Sunbeam… which, erm, Komakino co-produced). The back end to the album features a few B-Sides to those tunes, solid cuts as well but not a touch on them.

I’ve no doubt Energy Trancemission will come off dated and silly to ravers weaned on post-2000 hard dance, but back in the day, this was hot shit! Snigger all you like, I don my Nostalgia Headphones for Komakino with no shame.

DJ Shadow - Endtroducing.....

Mo Wax: 1996

Speaking of record buying, here's the album that turned the quirky obsession into art. Not to say sampling obscure music hadn't been done before, but DJ Shadow's debut album Endtroducing..... changed the way many regarded the craft. Producers used to raid whatever they could, either snagging super-catchy hooks from musicians past or creating ultra-dense sound collages. Then laws put a clamp on it, and super-sampling went quiet for a while, a single loop about the only prominent type of sample anyone could afford anymore. DJ Shadow proved you could still create amazing music even within those restrictions.

More than just a classic album of sampling, DJ Shadow got the wider public intrigued by the concept of instrumental, melodic hip-hop. This was around the same time the sub-genre illbient was gaining traction, thanks in large part to DJ Spooky’s work (and yes, it’s perfectly fine if you’ve gotten the two mixed up). Though Mr. Davis’ sound skewed closer to trip-hop, the melancholic overtones of Endtroducing..... made the connection too tempting for journalists to ignore, always eager to start promoting a hot new trend. And hey, some of those hip-hop kids could become interested in ‘electronica’ if he appears on compilations and Amp rotation.

Even more than that, Endtroducing..... sold the romanticism of vinyl digging. Where did ol’ Josh find these records for samples? How did such moving pieces of musical artifacts go unnoticed for so long? The two chaps on the cover, what unique treasures might they be holding? Gee, if I started digging for vinyl, might I unearth something forgotten yet astounding? Damn it, I gotta get to the record shop pronto before some other bloke snags that rare northern soul pressing! I could be the next DJ Shadow!

So in the end, it was a perfect storm of circumstance that propelled Endtroducing..... into classic status. And yes, the music on hand was more than enough to back it up. The opening piano loop in Building Steam With A Grain Of Salt instantly worms its way into your ears, then to have it joined by a smooth hip-hop break, ethereal vocal, and additional niceness (funk guitar lick! scratches! vibraphones?), you realize you’re in for a sonic treat. The elements in play seem so simple, yet form a cohesion that is sublime.

And DJ Shadow pulls it off again and again. The Number Song and Mutual Slump are furious funk jams. Changeling and What Does Your Soul Look Like, Pt. 4 taps into acid jazz’s wells such that it’d make the Ninja Tune squad weak in the knees. Organ Donor gives the ol’ Hammond a proper showcase. Midnight In A Perfect World... you should already know how bliss this cut is. Even the few interludes and skits add to the overall package, welcome respites and teases of the choice tunes on hand.

In the end, Endtroducing..... isn’t so much about raiding the past for personal glory in the present, but about celebrating that which was unduly neglected from before.

The Sonic Voyagers - Endless Mission

April Records: 1995

I’ve made many blind purchases over the years - it’s one of the few true rushes a music buyer enjoys, possibly only exceeded when that blind purchase goes beyond expectations. In The Sonic Voyagers’ case, however, I had little expectation, as the duo was utterly unknown to me. Klonker Clicke? Steve Law? Nope, never heard of these guys. The little promo sticker on the wrap claimed they were “ambient wizards from Australia”, and I couldn’t help but be drawn in by the charming mid-‘90s CG art. By the way, what the hell is that thing on the right? A rocket? A sex toy?

Anyhow, I went in expecting something like Namlook space ambient drone, probably because that was the sound I was most familiar with at the time. Imagine my disappointment when I heard things like beats, acid, and the like. It sounded cool, sure, but wasn’t what I hoped for, and Endless Mission wound up way off in the recesses of my collection. Occasionally it’d get a play to see if something might hook me, but that initial let down dogged the CD for much longer than it should have. It’s so nice to grow older and more mature when it comes to listening habits.

There was one track off here that was as I’d expected, Alone In The Icy Blackness: dark, ominous, spacious, with a subtle pulsing bit of acid running through to keep the journey moving, even if there’s nothing to see but desolate and bleak emptiness. The main attraction, however, is Endless Mission, Parts 1 and 2, clocking in at over thirty minutes between the two. Best I can describe them is ‘dark space electro’, each constantly shifting and morphing like a live PA jam - so, Namlookian in that sense. The bouncing beat in Part 2 is particularly fun, mostly a pulsing throb of acid bass, occasionally joined by a proper kick or sudden bleep. Very good walking music, though be careful if out and about, as you might get distracted trying to figure out what that chopped up voice is saying throughout.

Also, the acid work is skill, despite not being a prominent feature. I’m assuming Klonker Clicke is behind most of it, as it’s actually a one-off alias of acid techno producer Voiteck Andersen, used only for this release. Mind, Steve Law may have done the work too, as he’s more known for his psy trance alias Zen Paradox. Who knows at this point, but they did have some good chemistry.

Only two other primary track here, Beyond The Infinite and Nightmare In Electro-Dub Land. Both are brisk acid workouts, with the former sticking more to techno’s pace and the latter inexplicitly doing gabber. Heh, no, it’s electro, of that pounding nu-Detroit type. Again, hardly the sound I was expecting, nor inclined to hear when I bought Endless Mission. Now that I’ve come to appreciate it though, I wish there’d been more from The Sonic Voyagers.

Tiësto - Elements Of Life (Original TC Review)

Ultra Records: 2007

(2013 Update:
Proving the old adage it's never so bad that it can't get worse, it's the last album Tiësto produced during his trance era. Oh, if folks only knew what was to come. I suppose he should be given some credit for attempting to branch out into 'minimal' (yes, 2007 Sykonee, that really was what passed for the sound that year), but his old fans totally rejected it and true minimal heads pointed and laughed. Small wonder Mr. Verwest threw up his hands and abandoned all remaining credibility, fleeing to the welcoming embrace of pure commercialized cheese. Hey, at least he finally broke America in a proper fashion that way.

Oh, and I don't know why I was so hard on Bright Morningstar. It's actually one of the better tunes off here. Yeah yeah, I could be an insufferable twat back then, but Tiësto's a goofy twat, so there's synergy.)


IN BRIEF: That’s it?

Having accomplished so much this decade, it’s hard to imagine Mr. Tijs Verwest could achieve more, but the Dutch superstar DJ rarely backs down from a challenge: popularity polls, stadium gigs, Olympics, even Disneyland have been conquered. As a result though, his actual musical output has become secondary to all these large achievements, and folks are far more interested in what his Next Big Stunt will be instead. Sponsorship of Microsoft’s inevitable iPod knock-off? An entire clothing and cologne line? The first DJ to play on the moon? It places quite the expectation upon him to deliver what his hype demands.

Even so, although it may be unfair to judge Tijs’ music in this context, you cannot escape the fact the name Tiësto has come to represent dance music excess. And like many similar pop stars, he is counted upon to deliver on those grounds - as an example, Madonna always seems to make a comeback every time she returns to her dance-pop strengths after periods of unwanted artistic indulgence. Fans put stars in their positions because they deliver what the fans want, and few are going to buy a new Tiësto album if he doesn’t deliver big trance-pop moments with theatrics to spare.

It is therefore with a surprising lack of such bombast Mr. Verwest has delivered his third album titled Elements Of Life. Oh, not in the hype department: his PR machine has done plenty there. Rather, the music contained on here is decidedly lacking in execution. Far too much sounds like going through the motions, and repeated listens reveal less and less each time.

The first couple tracks get things on the right foot, mind. Opener Ten Minutes Before Sunrise is a pretty piece of mellow trance, and sets the mood nicely. Follow-up Everything builds upon that with a groovy rhythm and catchy vocal hooks by Jes Brieden of Motorcycle fame. Once again, she supplies thinly disguised lyrics about being on ecstasy (“Everything sounds better/Everything looks brighter/Everything tastes better/Everything you do feels better”) ...heh, maybe. It could just as easily be about love, but c’mon! Why wouldn’t she go for drug innuendo again when that was one of the biggest charms of As The Rush Comes?

When Mr. Verwest tries a stab at ‘minimal’ though is where things begin to sound suspect. Yes, those are apostrophes around the word, so Do You Feel Me and Carpe Noctrum really aren’t minimal, despite Tiësto’s claims to the contrary. Try deep house for the former, super-simple techno for the latter, and both lacking the nuances minimal proper is known for. Still, though they scream of trend jumping, they’re satisfactory offerings nonetheless.

Unfortunately, Elements Of Life seems to completely run out of interesting ideas from here on out.

Skipping Driving To Heaven since it has ‘filler’ written all over it (it abruptly ends after a rote looping synth build), we enter the BT section of Elements Of Life. Now, there was lots of excited talk about having Mr. Transeau collaborate with Mr. Verwest on this album, many figuring BT’s epic musical masterpieces from the past would influence the Dutch DJ’s sonic palette. Sadly, we get ‘pop’ BT instead: great production but predictable melodies, many of which amount to little and are forgotten shortly after. It’s like the most MOR of euro-dance with far more studio work done than is necessary. Sweet Things does have a catchy chorus, mind, but little else. Meanwhile Bright Morningstar is just a step above filler, and Break My Fall with BT himself on vocal duties could have been any number of toss-off euro-dance fluff pieces from the mid-90s.

And then there’s In The Dark, the lead single with a bunch of hullabaloo over it as Tiësto’s big attempt to grab the holy grail of dance music: breaking America. According to him, this is the kind of track U2 would produce if they made dance music. Um, no, Tijs. U2 already made dance music, it was called Discoteque, remember? And this sounds nothing like Discoteque. In The Dark is like any other regular euro pop trance tune, but with more of the ‘emo singer’ spin on it that’s becoming common in dance lately. And he’s genuinely calling this ‘rocktronic’? A term that’s more of a chin-stroker’s joke to describe electronic music with rock overtones? (LCD Soundsystem, Infadels, Primal Scream... this is ‘rocktronic’, if such an official term ever existed) I thought his buzzword jumping was already laughable with ‘minimal’ - this is beyond comical.

If you’ve resisted becoming cynical to this album up to this point, the final stretch will break even the most dedicated fanboy. Dance4Life - Tiësto’s cheap Faithless knock-off - may have had good intentions when he made it, but like so many pop stars doing charity, the sincerity of it is severely questioned when he pumps so much money into concerts dedicated to himself. And the title track itself? It’s ridiculous bombast, looping a Bach melody with different synth patches until the melody itself is distorted beyond anything listenable - Spinal Tap would have been proud, as Tiësto certainly seems to be trying to crank the effects to eleven.

It doesn’t bode well for the album when the bonus track, He’s A Pirate, is one of the more enjoyable songs to be heard, as that’s a rather average trance tune to begin with (though I do admit I kind of enjoy music where the buckles swash). Does Tiësto figure his name is big enough that he can get away with only the most basic tenets of dance music and shift oodles of units? He may be famous, but not that famous.

Maybe his touring schedule doesn’t leave him enough time to concentrate on his studio work anymore. Maybe he’s guessing the only way to break America is to dumb down his formula. Or maybe even he too realizes that his music will always be secondary to his stunts now that his star has gotten so big, and there is no reason to put much effort into it when the simplest will suffice.

Whatever the reason, Elements Of Life is ultimately a mediocre dance release. There are moments that will entertain but all too often the end results are anti-climatic and stale. Save your money and go see his concerts instead for your Tiësto-endorsed entertainment.

Various - Elemental Chill Vol. 4: Water

Kriztal Entertainment: 2002

The fourth and last of this series, for what it’s worth. Poor Water, getting the shaft. Okay, so it’s technically due to astrological order, but what did the liquid element do to deserve that status? Plus, why stop there? What about the fifth element, heart and love? Kriztal could have kept the series going for another volume, and when it came time to release the box set of Elemental Chill, it could come in a spiffy Captain Kriztal package, saving the planet from ultimate evil! Wait, is that how this works? Damn you, ‘90s!

Anyhow, we’ve come to the end of this series, all the loose ends neatly tied up. What about those covers? The title band keeps moving, you say? Ah, that’s due to the unique packaging these CDs come in. Graphic designer Karlsson Wilker was responsible for them, lending a simplistic digital style to the covers and digipak interiors. Included with the elemental illustration on the front were animal ones inside, though I think the Fire ‘animal’ is a devil. The CDs also come with a cardboard band which you can slip on and off; or, if you’re stupid like I was, throw away because you figure they’re nothing but needless packaging. Still, I haven’t seen anything quite like it before, and was fortunate enough to find enough images that showcase this packaging feature.

Right, back to music. I've had these Elemental Chill discs for nearly a decade now, and while the themes for the first three volumes were easy to figure out, I'm still at a loss on how the tunes on Vol. 4 are aquatic. The overriding tone is of mild funk, but when I think funk, I think Earth. There's liquid funk, I guess, but even if the chill out camps tried to co-opt the term for them, it's still not a good descriptor for the music here. Nothing here reminds me of water.

Correction: nothing specifically reminds me of water, but how it effects the other elements does. It’s like it puts a damper (hurr, hurr) on the Latin vibes of Fire, weighs down the light bliss of Air, and softens the solid funk of Earth. As a result, the music on Water isn't as interesting as the prior volumes. Even assuming one didn't listen to these in numerical order, it lacks the spark to draw you in. There's little DJing occurring, almost no flow between tracks, and a tepid vibe permeates everything. Even the track list is shorter than the other volumes. I can only recall two tracks off this, and The Funky Lowlifes’ Nota Bossa doesn’t count as I’d already heard it lead off a Quango compilation called Cosmic Funk (say, why did I pass that one anyway?).

Thus, a whimper of an end to the Elemental Chill series. Seems a shame, as the others had enough class to warrant a look if you’re curious. Like the band Earth, Wind & Fire, though, you won’t miss much by the lack of Water.

Various - Elemental Chill Vol. 3: Air

Kriztal Entertainment: 2002

My two favorite tracks of the whole series are here, for what it’s worth. Allow me to detail what makes them so great.

The first track is by Quantic, titled Time Is The Enemy. The man behind this tune is William Holland, a producer kicking out jams to this day, though this was from his first album. As a result, there's a degree of simplicity going on here, and it's brilliant - rugged trip-hop beats coupled with light, dreamy piano work (samples?), making me sway to the vibe as I hold a lighter in the air. Following that is Röyksopp’s So Easy, which I’m sure anyone familiar with the duo should know of. Of course, Eple and Poor Leno went on to be the bigger hits from Melody A.M, but this was the one they released as a single before signing to Wall Of Sound. With its irresistible bouncy rhythm and ear-worm of a vocal hook, it’s small wonder the label snatched these guys up, and rather remarkable Kriztal got the rights to such a big name for Volume 3 of their Elemental Chill series.

Funny enough, they're the (almost) last tracks, as though DJ DRM realized the best offerings couldn't come earlier lest the rest of the CD get skipped. Nah, just kidding, there's good stuff here, moving on from the dirt as we set adrift in the clouds. Air being our theme, the music is much lighter in tone, spacious and calm like a cool breeze. Vol. 3 is about as Balearic as this series gets.

Had I not bought all four volumes, this would likely have been the blind purchase, in part because I did recognize Röyksopp, plus Fila Brazillia and another chap by the name of Sven van Hees. I got into him quite by accident during my AudioGalaxy days, so seeing his Breakfast With Abductees on Air assured me I was in good hands. It may not be his best tune, but in definitely fits the tone of this CD (he also appeared on Earth, I should note).

As with the other volumes, Air’s track selection remains about as diverse as one can get within the thematic constraints. Spooky Monkey’s Dream Of A Place edges quite close to the realms of ambient dub. Fila Brazillia’s remix of Euphoria’s Delirium finds its footing in light space-funk. E.D. Swankz’s Slapping Detectives is all over the place, at times sounding like a David Lynch series theme, other times borrowing aesthetics from IDM’s banks. And of course the usual acid jazz, lounge, and chill tunes as well.

How’s the mixing on this one, then? It doesn’t flow quite as smoothly as Earth did, but this set’s more about individual tunes anyway, so abrupt transitions aren’t as big a deal. There’s still the odd key clash and forced mix, but very little in the way of whiplash. It is about the first time I can call one of these Elemental Chill CDs proper chill.

Various - Elemental Chill Vol. 2: Earth

Kriztal Entertainment

My favourite edition of the Elemental Chill series, for what it's worth. Whereas Fire's rhythms had hip-shaking goodness going for it, Earth gets lower in the groove, encouraging a little funky footwork should you be so inclined (or a little shoulder shuffle if you're currently inert). Of course, it will always boil down to personal preference, but this white boy enjoys the funk more than the calypso.

Wait, isn't this supposed to be a chill out series? What’s with all this talk of dancing and body movement? Oh, there are calmer moments for sure, but for the time being Kriztal’s showcasing the, erm, uptempo side of downtempo.

In Earth’s case, it’s the meeting point between acid jazz and deep house - livelier than the former, but a decided lack of typical 4/4 beats in the latter. In fact, only a couple tracks on this compilation aren’t of a broken beat origin. First is Pleb’s Shadow Of A Bee, and it makes ample use of dub effects that keep it well outside the boundaries of what folks would think constitutes deep house (so too would the calm flamenco guitar work). Following that is Sunday Brunch’s Honhung, offering jazzy tones found in a lot of traditional deep house, but it still makes more sense heard on an Ibizan terrace than a Chicago lounge.

And that right there is why Vol. 2 remains in the chill out camps: laid back Mediterranean melodies and Balearic atmosphere. Still, as with the previous volume, there are occasional tracks that keep the tone from growing stale. Desmond Williams’ Cadence is incredibly dub-funky, sounding like a Ninja Tune transplant. Saxophonist Praful uses sweeping string samples in Sigh, making his cut seem more appropriate in a French film (an even funnier thought considering he’s German). Enjoy a little Indian funk? Here’s Nicola Conte’s Missione a Bombay for ya’, with more sitars, tablas, and trumpets than you can handle. And for a little trip-hop flavour, there’s The Big Knife’s Mrs. Castle.

Uh oh. Variety. That means clashing styles again, doesn’t it. And that means another wonky DJ mix, doesn’t it. Well, yeah, it does. Fortunately, things aren’t as bad as they were in Fire. Even during some of the rougher transitions, flow is mostly maintained for significant stretches. Instead of awkwardly forcing tracks together, DJ DRM allows them to play out into a quick crossfade, where momentum isn’t lost even if the tempo suddenly slows.

All these factors help Earth stand tall amongst the other Elemental Chill editions. If you do happen across all four but only want one, this is my recommendation. You may not be so fortunate as to get a bulk discount on them as I was.

Huh, if that’s that, what else is there left to say about this series? No, I can do this. After all, I got through that electro collection intact ...I think.

Various - Elemental Chill Vol. 1: Fire

Kriztal Entertainment: 2002

I feel fortunate I haven’t covered a lengthy DJ Mix/compilation series yet. It grows tiresome finding fresh things to talk about when there isn’t much difference from CD to CD, the most popular ones typically sticking to successful formulas (note: DJ-Kicks is an exception because, hot damn, is it ever all over the place!). Imagine if I’d kept all those euro dance discs from the 90s: Dance Mix, Club Cutz, DJ Line… we might still be stuck in the ‘D’s. Fortunately, most of those found new homes in used shops or met their demise in microwaves (always a fun party trick).

There are a few series I’ve collected many, if not all, editions of, this here Elemental Chill being one such. I actually hadn’t planned on it, figuring to buy just one when I saw them sitting in a CD Universe mall outlet but unsure which one to go for. The shop gal suggested getting them all, as she’d then give me a bulk discount on the package (like HMV’s old ‘buy ten, get one free’ deal). Sure, why not, these look decent enough that I can splurge on the whole set.

All four editions of Elemental Chill were released at the same time, which isn’t a bad idea when you’re launching a label as Kriztal was here. Chill music was quite popular at the turn of the century, so there were plenty of established labels already cornering the market, but these had enough of a gimmick to grab attention - jazzy, Latin-flavored, downtempo tunes, each CD centered on an elemental theme.

First in the series is Fire. As far as I can tell, this means jazzy, Latin-flavored, downtempo tunes that tend to urge a bit of hip shaking action. Not that chill, come to think of it, but whatever; a series needs some diversity throughout. Examples: Mikael Delta brings a little deep Balearic house vibe with Diving; something that could loosely be described as ‘salsa d’n’b’ comes care of Brazilian trio DJ Marky, DJ Patife & ESOM; Herbaliser does his smokey acid jazz thing in a remix of Jaffa’s Elevator.

So some nice tunes all around, but there’s a glaring problem here, and it’s unfortunately one throughout the series: they’re presented as DJ mixes that are horribly wonky. DJ DRM (Aaron Schultz) was given the duty, and whether he was forced into using tracks that simply didn’t work together or didn’t have the time to make the mixes better, I don’t know. Occasionally a string of tunes hint at proper set momentum, but most transitions are abrupt, styles clashing as flow is flung out the window over and over. If you can’t get all your selected tunes to mix smoothy, don’t bloody force it. How can I expect to get my chill on if I’m constantly turning heads and raising eyebrows over the DJing? Oh well, maybe it was just a flub in the first inning. Will it get better in later editions? (spoiler: eh…)

N-Trance - Electronic Pleasure

Popular Records: 1996

Depending on who you ask, UK-based N-Trance was one of three different acts: old school rave (and later happy hardcore) darlings responsible for the classic Set You Free; a better-than-average euro dance act responsible for tunes like Electronic Pleasure and Turn Up The Power; dance pop cheese mongers responsible for cover-bilge like Stayin’ Alive and Paradise City. Everyone’s right, and amusingly this debut album of theirs features all three personas.

Set You Free was produced back in ’92, but due to confounding legal problems, never saw a proper release until much later. White labels of that original version made the rounds, however, so the group had no choice but to include the popular cut (or something quite similar) when they finally released their album. Its ravey roots are bold and bright, frantic breakbeats and punchy riffs perfectly accentuating Kelly Llorenna’s soaring vocals. One can’t help but wonder what other N-Trance tunes would have sounded like if they had managed a quick album follow-up that same year. The closer That’s All We Need offers a small hint, sounding like a UK acid house/gospel hybrid you’d find quite a bit of in the early ‘90s.

But no, it wasn’t until ’95 Electronic Pleasure finally hit the streets, and Set You Free couldn’t help but come off sounding a tad dated by then. N-Trance had kept busy in the meanwhile though, latching onto popular euro trends and knocking it out of the park with their titular cut. Owing some influence to the Abfahrt Records sound, it’s got your catchy hook, strong vocals, requisite rap, and enough subtle production tying it to the trance scene (not to mention one of those memorably daft euro dance videos) to lift it well above the sea of dance pop wanna-bes that was flooding the market at the time. Most of the other tunes here follow this pattern, with follow-up single Turn Up The Power added later. It’s a fine slice of euro as well, but coming off more like a B-Side to Electronic Pleasure.

All well and good, but these songs were hardly the reason most folks snagged copies of N-Trance’s debut off the shelves. No, that distinction goes to Stayin’ Alive. God, was that song fucking annoying…

Finding success in dance covers wasn’t anything new, but the time was right for disco-retro romanticism to set in. N-Trance capitalized in a big way, retaining nearly all of The Bee Gee song’s best attributes, adding an updated chunkier beat, and, of course, a rap. Good job, All Around The World, in clearing those rights. I can’t deny still finding my strut while listening to this, but that’s all The Bee Gees work there.

Stayin’ Alive’s the only example of such music on Electronic Pleasure, but N-Trance saw the dollar signs it brought in and modeled the rest of their career around cheap disco-dance and crap covers. It’s about all most remember them for now, which is a shame because their earlier work in euro dance is class.