Moby - Everything Is Wrong

Mute: 1995

The only Moby album you’re supposed to have, even if you aren’t much of a Moby fan. At least, that used to be the case, before Play hit the streets - even then, it took a bit for that quanti-popular album to get going (re: heard in every commercial or soundtrack ever), so Everything Is Wrong still held onto its title for a little longer. The funny thing is it’s not like Play was the first of Moby’s releases to do this - tracks off here and even his first album cropped up on various soundtracks - but it was the most ubiquitous of the bunch, thus the one that stuck in the public’s mind.

As for Everything Is Wrong, this was the one that raised his star beyond underground darling, thanks to the marketing muscle his new label Elektra provided. No longer tied to his rave roots, he could explore sonic avenues as never before! Then why does half this album sound like he had trouble letting go of those rave roots?

Feeling So Real, Bring Back My Happiness, and Everytime You Touch Me are all throwback rave anthems, which is weird to type nearly twenty years on. Truth is though, by 1995, almost all aspects of old school hardcore had been snuffed out by the march of musical progress: jungle adopted the breaks and bass, happy hardcore pilfered the piano lines and giddiness, and the riffs went to... oh, let's say gabber. But these tunes by Moby, they sound exactly as you'd expect classic rave to sound in that year had the genre kept plugging on. Fun these days, but kind of odd back then.

What really got folks' attention though, were the lush, cinematic piano-chill tracks. God Moving Over The Face Of The Water's the classic of the bunch, featured at the end of the movie Heat as Al Pacino holds the hand of a dying Robert de Niro (aw, they could'a had a bromance). Personally, Hymn's the track for me, playing to the haunting, melodic strengths many a Moby tune has carried over the years. Elsewhere, the gospel influences and pop-potential hinted in prior releases get more focus this time out with tracks like Into The Blue and Cool First Hive (a dead ringer of a precursor to Play).

So some lovely moments, but ol' Richard also shows his burgeoning musical schizophrenic behavior. I don't recall if The Prodigy made it the in-thing to do, but Moby's first forays into dance-punk fusion appear too. The two cuts, they're... um, punk, that's for sure; heck, What Love? sounds like it could have been an Atari Teenage Riot track.

With so much genre dabbling, Everything Is Wrong doesn't come off like a cohesive album. Instead, it's a snapshot of where Moby was in the mid-'90s, figuring out what to do next with his music as one chapter of it was coming to an end. Despite the lack of any narrative or flow, it's still a fascinating listen.

Neil Young & Crazy Horse - Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere

Reprise Records: 1969

Considering I have more Neil Young releases than any other artist, it’s remarkable that it took four and a half months before encountering an album of his in my alphabetical listening. Fanboyish of me, you say, owning so much of his music? Pft, truthfully I’ve gathered perhaps a mere third of his output, as the guy’s been ridiculously prolific since the ‘60s. Still, I’m an admitted Rustie, and Young’s one of those musicians that’s hard to explain why you become a follower. For most, he’s just some guy that’ll make a song or three with a catchy hook, or some pleasant folksy harmonies, or a proper rock-out session, and that’s all. Then, without warning, something snags you, drawing you into Shakey’s world. It can be any number of his releases that does this - a man as eclectic as him has undoubtedly recorded a genre or two that you’ll fancy - but when it does, there’s no going back.

Personally, it was the album Ragged Glory, recorded with Young’s long-time back-up band Crazy Horse. This here album Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere was the first one they did together, apparently recorded a short while after enjoying a couple jams together when the band was still known as The Rockets. I know I’m just repeating the chorus of what everyone’s said since its release in 1969, but the synergy between the two was remarkable. With barely any prep time, Young wrote a few new tunes, and they got their asses in the studio, pretty much recording the whole thing on the fly. The result is definitely raw and under-produced, which only added to the charm of it, and became a staple for not only their subsequent releases, but almost Young’s entire musical career.

The big hit off here was Cinnamon Girl, which was quite a heavy rocker for its day. Chances are you’ve heard some version of it, and if not, go listen to it, and have it forever stuck in your head. Other tunes skewed more folksy, though the titular cut’s a fun little country-rock stomp (that bassline!), while Running Dry’s forlorn and rather psychedelic (hey, ’69, man!).

Two songs truly captured what Young and the Horse were capable of: Down By The River and Cowgirl In The Sand, primarily extended jams, the former more southern and the latter straightforward rock. If your idea of jam music only goes so far as The Grateful Dead or Phish, you’re missing out. These guys lock into a groove and just go, the Horse providing the rhythmic backbone while Young coerces whatever wonderful sonic mess he can out of his “Old Black” ’53 Gibson Les Paul. Throw in lovely, harmonic choruses every so often, and you've got a pair of classic guitar epics for your ears.

Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere is a solid introduction to Young and his Horse, but some of their best runs of these songs came at the live shows. Guess I’ll talk about that whenever I reach the 'L's.

Various - An Evening Of Trance: Mixed By DJ Grover

Topaz: 2000

You'd be forgiven in thinking this CD's hopelessly corny and not worth your while were you to judge it by its cover. Hell, you'd even be forgiven thinking along those lines after listening to the first track. You'd be doing yourself a disservice in thinking such thoughts though, for if you are thinking them, then you don't know anything about the label from which these tracks were gathered from. Go on, admit it, how many of you have heard of Eve Records? Maybe some of you Cult Of Schulz folks out there, but not many others I wager.

To be fair, I barely know anything about Eve Records either, and I own this CD. God bless Discogs, so here’s what I’ve gleaned from its profile there. Launched in the mid-'90s, it primarily was an outlet for Pablo Gargano's material. By the turn of the century, they'd gained enough momentum to bring in other talent, including such names as Atmos, Steve Gibbs, and yes, Markus Schulz. Eve Records even managed a few spin-off labels and has held strong to this day, though general consensus tends to favour their pre-2000 output.

Hopefully they’re not talking of the first track, Atlantis Shores by Sourmash. It sucks. Bad. Think your most inane, cliché epic trance of the late ‘90s coupled with poor production quality, and there’s your tune. Skip it, and never speak of it again.

After that, it’s pretty much the Pablo Gargano Show, as all but one other track is by him. Considering the poor opening, I wasn’t expecting much, but ol’ Pabs, he knows his trance. If you were following the genre during the late ‘90s, you were bound to have bumped into a couple of his cuts on compilations and mixes. Probably his biggest exposure came at the end of two Global Underground sets (Oakenfold’s Oslo and Digweed’s Sydney, specifically), but by and large he appeared on relatively underground releases. And I can hear why, as his sound is tough, energetic, and properly trance; essentially the kind of music that makes better sense at a warehouse rave than in a superclub.

He’s diverse too! There’s dark, brooding beasts like My Noise, acid leanings with Trance In Saigon and Niquest Limit, straight-up space-out moments like Illogical Trance and Peace & Love, and classy anthems like The Secret Spice. Shame this DJ Grover chap doesn’t appear up to the task of giving all his tunes a solid mix to stand on - may have been better to make this a regular, unmixed compilation instead.

I suppose one could complain An Evening Of Trance sells Eve Records short by making this almost all about Pablo Gargano (David Craig gets an acid trance cut in too), but the Italian native was Eve Records in those early years. There are likely more comprehensive releases of the label out there, but if you find this on the cheap, it’s a sound purchase if you have an ear for this sound.

Pryda - Europa / Odyssey (Original TC Review)

Pryda Recordings: 2007

(2013 Update:
This was written back when the term 'Swedish House Mafia' was nothing but a pet name web forum users tagged to producers making electro house from the Scandinavian country, which is why Eric Prydz was considered a 'member'. Go figure Angello, Ingrosso, and Axwell would go on to use it as a proper performance name. But yes, Prydz most definitely is not a real member of the group, having stuck to his own path for much of his career. Ironically, he was predicted to be the biggest star of that clutch of producers, but his lack of memorable hits following Pjanoo and refusal (fear?) of touring overseas left a significant gap in his career, the real SHM all too eager to take in his place.)


IN BRIEF: Equivalent of filler.

The general consensus within clubland is if you want to get into Eric Prydz, stay away from the material released under his own name (Call On Me, Proper Education), for despite such singles’ instant catchiness, they will quickly irritate after having to hear it on the radio for the three-hundred fourty-seventh time; let the commercial populace, whom fancy buying a Ministry Of Sound Annual compilation as digging deep into the underground, have their novelty dance tunes. Rather, if you really want hear what the successful Swedish House Mafia member is capable of, his aliases are where you should be directing your attention.

Although all of his work tends to retain that nu-electro tech-house feel, the material released under the Pryda banner gains the most notice, and for good reason. Tracks like Aftermath and Frankfurt are classic class, with much of the Pryda discography all equal to the highlight task. However, no success goes without its vocal detractors, and Eric has seen his fair share of them when it comes to this alias. In a nutshell, he’s been accused of never quite reaching to the higher pastures his music hints him capable of, often settling for the tried and tested formulae that’s won him over again and again. Fair complaints, and unfortunately with this new single Europa, he’s given such negative folk more ammunition.

As is often the case with Prydz, the base elements will win you right over. Along with a pleasing backing synth that gently grows in prominence when it plays, a simple looping trancey hook gets plenty of washing effects thrown on it at the peaks, which makes for a decent climax. And that’s about it, really. Everything else is sparse in sound, limp in rhythmic energy, and lacking in ingenuity. Europa’s arrangement is the kind of thing most up-and-coming producers learn in House Music 101, and were it not for Prydz’ layers of effects propping it up, this would be a very, very mediocre tune. You’d think he used John Dahlbäck’s Seal Of Adequacy and called it a day. It’s like Chinese food: satisfying upon consumption, but leaves you feeling empty shortly after.

The complete opposite is to be said with B-Side, Odyssey. For the opening minute or so, you’ll probably dismiss this as Just Another ‘Minimal’ Track, and might even wonder why Prydz, more known for peak-time tunes, would make something like this. However, as this track builds, additional rhythmic layers work a fine groove while basslines and backing synths craft a surprisingly strong production. Unlike Europa’s immediate appeal that evaporates soon after, Odyssey’s subtle sonic depth works in its favor, as the climax comes off like an anticipated reveal rather than run-of-the-mill pandering. That being said, Odyssey is still a rather simple tune as well; more satisfying than the A-Side, certainly, but rudimentary in execution nonetheless.

I’ve a feeling this single is going to garner many split opinions, none the least amongst Prydz’ fanbase. For some, he can do no wrong, and the basic ideas he presents definitely are good. However, even for a producer who’s been guilty of holding back on potential, these tracks sound as though they were made without much thought. Maybe he needed some Christmas bills quickly paid off, so he knocked these out, posted them on Beatport for purchasable download, and sat back as folks eagerly snatched up New Pryda without bothering to listen beforehand. Maybe.

Various - Euro Dance Pool, Volume 2

Sony Music Direct: 1995

One year. That's all it took for euro dance to plummet from its perch. I'm sure sales held just fine, but stagnation had set in. All the charming attributes of the genre eroded away, in its place a shallow shell of glories past. Okay, that's not quite accurate, and the only evidence I'm providing for the argument is this CD. But oh, when we're through...

First, some positives. The opening half of Euro Dance Pool, Volume 2 features a couple returning acts from the first one, namely DJ Company and The Free. Actually, scratch that as a positive – their tracks aren't nearly as good as the ones featured on the previous edition, incredibly generic compared to their original hits. That right there is the problem: all these euro groups became streamlined, homogenized. There’s no distinctiveness or personality among them anymore. On Volume One, you could definitely hear the difference between DJ Company and The Free - now they could be Taboo or Unique for all I can tell. Still, that Look Twice tune makes a good effort to stand out.

The production quality’s the main culprit amongst all these tunes though. The beats sound cheap and flat, many making use of an annoying *tckock-tckock* kick. The hooks are almost non-existent beyond bleating nonsense. And why's this stuff so bloody fast? Yeah, euro often had a quick pace, but this is almost at eurobeat speeds, or even... dear God, you're not taking notes from happy hardcore now, are you!? No, that's not it at all. The raps, they're totally different now. Ragga raps. Wait a damn minute; these are nothing but Maxx rip-offs! Fuck you, Maxx Berman.

And that’s not even the worst of it. Nearly half the tracks are covers of songs that have no business getting covered into dance music. The Gipsy Kings’ Bamboleo doesn't need one. Elvis doesn't need another one. Holy hell, The Sex Pistols unquestionably don't need it! Is this because N-Trance had that stupid hit with Stayin' Alive, so now every two-bit euro producer's trying to cash in?

Ironically, one of the best tunes on Volume 2 is a cover, Dance Floor Virus’ Message In A Bottle (they even released a whole album of Police covers). The tune itself is about as you’d expect of a euro update, but sweet Jesus does singer Filippo Neviani ever nail the vocals! I recall playing this to my old man, about as big a Police fan that I knew of at the time, and he was impressed by how Sting’s cadence was captured. Heck, even ol’ Gordon himself thought it was his own voice that had been sampled. It definitely was a huge selling point for this CD, one of the key tracks played out on advertisements.

But nay, the series died after this, and the regular Dance Pool one shortly afterwards here in Canada. Sony then turned to the poor man’s Chris Sheppard - MC Mario - for their commercial dance mixes here. B’ah...

Various - Euro Dance Pool, Volume 1

Sony Music Direct: 1995

Alright, enough of that noodly ambient-Age stuff. Let's get back to fun music again, specifically euro dance, circa. 1994. A major player at the time was Dance Pool, Sony's subdivision for all things club orientated. The label's reach was far indeed, often responsible for mainland Europe distribution of several key dance releases while cultivating a roster of their own, including Jam & Spoon, B.G. The Prince Of Rap, and Culture Beat.

Thus, when Sony tested the dance waters here in good ol' Canuckaland, many of their releases carried the Dance Pool stamp. May as well, since that upstart Quality and competitor BMG were cashing in on a genre of music that Sony was boss at in Europe. Get a little promotion on MuchMusic’s Electric Circus, and you’re set. The first few volumes had a mix of big euro hits, house smashes, and even hip-hop (Kriss Kross, really!?). Oh, and some oddities cropped up too, like Deep Forest's Sweet Lullaby and remixes of Céline Dion's Misled and The Philosopher Kings’ Charm. Da’ fuq’...?

Yeah, the Dance Pool series didn’t do nearly as well as Canada’s other successful ‘90s dance compilations thanks to such wonky tracklists, but a few memorable releases did find their way to store shelves. Like other euro compilations, Euro Dance Pool went out of its way in bringing over cuts lighting up clubs overseas, but were perhaps not as well known on American shores.

Though this CD was released in ’95, all the tracks were from the year prior, when, as far as I’m concerned, euro dance was at its best. The genre still had ties to the hip-house and Belgian beat it originally drew influence from (re: ripped off), so the bass often had solid shoulder-shufflin’ action while punchy riffs dominated - oh, and raps plus a bird belting out the chorus, but you already knew that. By ’94 though, the sounds of trance were creeping into the scene, which makes sense since a lot of old school trance producers would make a track or three for easy cash. As a result, spacey pad work, stuttering background synths, and galloping rhythms became de facto attributes for euro hit after euro hit. Me likes a lot, and Volume 1 has it in droves.

There’s big, obvious hits like B.G.’s Colour Of My Dreams (though given a very trancey rub), DJ Company’s Rhythm Of Love, and an ode to drunk-dialing (maybe), Lover On The Line by The Free - actually, if the video's anything to go by, it was a bad acid trip. Speaking of fun, daft euro videos, Pharao’s There Is A Star is a right hoot! Elsewhere, Jam & Spoon pop up with their cornball-rave pseudonym Tokyo Ghetto Pussy, the Abfarht team contributes with a Kim Sanders cut, and solid one-offs round out the rest (sans an annoying 2wo Third3 ‘pop’ cut). Overall, Euro Dance Pool’s a fun compilation, showcasing some of the best the genre had to offer.

And it dove right off a cliff after...

Robert Slap - The Eternal OM

Valley Of The Sun: 1986/1991/2010

Speaking of obscure tape-ambient from the ‘80s, here’s a doozy of such an example. Or maybe not. Originally released in 1986, Robert Slap’s The Eternal OM has also seen a couple CD releases over the years, most recently in 2010. For the cover image though, I’m going with the 1991 edition because… I dunno, looks more charming than a seabird flying off to the sun setting below an ocean horizon. Abstraction, man!

Back to Slap, he was a prolific producer on one of the earliest New Age ambient labels to ever emerge, Valley Of The Sun - they even beat out Hearts Of Space by a few years, though couldn’t quite gather a roster as significant as that label. Valley Of The Sun’s primary focus was on the meditative aspects of this sort of music, and as such released several tapes with ‘crystal’, ‘astral’ , and ‘light’ in their titles. And, as a lot of this music came out on tapes, it’s become incredibly hard to find it anymore, especially so with many long out of print. This particular release, however, endured, becoming something of a staple for spiritual meditative sessions, and all that rot.

So what's on The Eternal OM that's earned itself 'classic' status? Four things: a single droning pad, and, as far as I can determine, overdubs of about three different synthesized chants of “Om”. For an hour. Yes, that's it.

Look, this isn't actually an album of music. It's meant to be played in the background while deep in meditation or relaxing during massage therapy or engaged in hot tantra sex. Or, I dunno, whatever activity you might need noodly Oms for. The chants aren't designed to move you or haunt you or invoke an emotional response – they're functional tools. The Eternal OM is about as perfect an example of what ambient drone is designed to do.

It's pretty easy to snigger at the idea of an hour-long track of overdubbed Oms, but after dropping the cynicism and going with the chakra flow, I was surprised by how easy it was to get lulled into a zone. Part of it is the way Slap plays the chants, almost rhythmic in how they emerge and ebb - quite relaxing, if you don't pay much attention to it. Amusingly, Valley Of The Sun realized the prayer's effectiveness, printing a small 'warning' on the original cassette copies that one should not play The Eternal OM while operating a moving automobile. Say, how is it three in the morning already anyway?

Should you be so curious to seek out this release of Oms upon Oms, I need to point out that, technically, Robert Slap only has a producer's credit for it. According to the always awesome Discogs, there is no Artist associated with The Eternal OM. Makes sense, as since this really isn't a composition of music, there's no artistry involved. Or I dunno, maybe there is, in kind of a post-zen non-music sort of way. Abstraction, man!

Nimanty - Etanee

Venonza Records: 2008

*sigh* Here we go again.

I suppose this makes better sense than one-sided vinyls – talk about scamming record collectors with that option – but one-song releases are still annoying to deal with. It's not even like Nimanty couldn't have made this a multi-track EP, as he released other similar digi-singles at the time. Was it so important having individual images tagged to these MP3s? It just don't make none of the sense in this day in age.

If I'm bitching so much, why did I even pick this up then? Research, primarily. As one of those links to the right suggests, I've been gathering all sorts of music for a guide, and sometimes good examples of certain genres come in these single-song releases. Normally it's some re-issue of old, obscure, tape-only ambient from the '80s, but occasionally something like this crops up too. I prefer avoiding them though, as it wonks up my personal library. Still, this Etanee was too good to pass up. Heck, I even paid for the bloody thing, and I fucking hate the very concept of paying for MP3s. But... I didn’t buy a digi-file that's uninsurable; no no, it's, um, donating to Discogs, for their incredible service. Yeah, that's it! And if the artist gets something beneficial in return, all the more better for it.

So who is Nimanty, and what’s so special about this one particular tune of his? Roelf Staal’s the man behind the project, composing space ambient much in the vein of the label Hearts Of Space, a juggernaut operating since the ‘80s in providing music to watch the stars hover by. You know, the sort of calm, soothing music they’ll play at the planetarium as you bear witness to the cosmos in all its splendour. The universe is grand and majestic, not cold and desolate as those dark ambient guys will have you believe. In that sense, space ambient has a tendency to skew towards the New Age side of things, and though some will claim the difference is negligible, believe me it exists.

Etanee in particular is a good example of where that divide occurs. It has your sweeping, spacious pad work as you’d expect, but there’s more musicality going on here, a greater emphasis on not only creating atmosphere, but painting a specific picture. Ambient, at least in its purest sense, is ambiguous in presentation, the listener often allowed to discover their own interpretation of the music playing (though the composer will still offer a guiding hand). Etanee takes the time to play a little piano, glitch up the pads, and even provide curious vocalizations. It’s like a Kitaro composition, quite pleasant really when it comes to New Age-ambient hybrids.

Overall, this is a nice little tune (only ten minutes long), but my God could it use musical context surrounding it. C’mon, Nimanty, how about a proper LP, eh?

Deep Forest - Essence Of The Forest

Sony Music: 2003

Several folks enjoyed Deep Forest's take on world beat when they first emerged, but as the duo edged further from Western beats and deeper into local traditions, general interest in their output significantly dwindled. Add me to that group, and I was one of the few out there that actually enjoyed Boheme, scattershot faults and all. When Comparsa came out though, it came off a hodgepodge of any culture Mouquet and Sanchez were influenced by on their last tour, yet sounding like nothing at all. Granted, I didn't give it more than a cursory listen, as my ears had drifted away from the pop side of world beat, finding fresher sounds from Banco de Gaia and the like. I hadn't paid attention to a Deep Forest production since that lacklustre impression.

Then Essence Of The Forest came out. Hm, a greatest hits collection sounds interesting, and there's even updated remixes of all the selected tunes from Deep Forest. Wow, they'd released two albums since Comparsa? I guess it wouldn't hurt to pick this up. It'd be interesting to hear what they'd been up to, and maybe I'd been too hard on Comparsa. After all, this collection features the best cuts from their albums, right? Eh, I'm not sure.

Obviously Sweet Lullaby's the first track, and the lead single off Boheme - Marta's Song - goes second. After that though, the music culled from the first two albums turns weird. Deep Forest gets two more tracks updated, Desert Walk and Night Bird. The former, I can see, as it was a pleasant downtempo tune, but I found White Whisper, Savana Dance, and the titular cut more memorable than Night Bird. And to be blunt, most of the selections chosen from Boheme were tunes I've never liked. The dark, mysterious gypsy songs Gathering, Bohemian Ballet, and Cafe Europa, those were ace! Instead, we get Lament and Freedom Cry because... why? They're different from those other tunes? Meh, oh well, at least Twosome's on here.

What of the other tracks then? Honestly, given the selections from the first two, I've no idea whether they're the cream of the crop off their respective albums. What I can say is those not familiar with Music Detected will be stunned at the change of sound, with a major focus on R&B, funk, and soul. Getting blunty with it again, it's a total clash with the world beat throughout Essence Of The Forest, as all the tracks are mixed among each other. Some of it's good, for sure, and neat to hear Deep Forest stretching out, but incredibly out of place sitting beside African pygmies and Bulgarian gypsies (not to mention the mish-mash of cultures from Comparsa).

I wouldn’t bother with Essence Of The Forest if you’re looking for more Sweet Lullabys (although you do get two versions on here!). It’s a better pick-up if you’re only curious of their output since their debut without actually listening to the other albums.

BT - ESCM

Reprise Records: 1997

The inlay of BT’s sophomore album ESCM has the following printed out: “This recording is best suited to a nice pair of Sony MDR-7506 headphones.” Really? They’re good cans, but c’mon, those were the Dre Beats of the day - more of a fashion statement, especially within the DJ world. My Sennheiser HD650s are leaps and bounds better than the Sony model. Okay, that model didn’t hit the streets for half a decade after this CD came out, but what of the Sennheiser HD580s? They’d been around since ’93, and were considered the audiophile standard for headphones in the mid-hundreds price range. And BT’s saying even those won’t do with his album? Fuck you, Rick Berman.

Whoops, sorry. I’ve had Plinkett-isms stuck in my head lately. Still, a memorable bit from those Star Wars reviews at RedLetterMedia was producer Rick “Berman” going on about how CG technology allowed Lucas to create movies that are “so dense, [with] so much going on all the time.” Gee, sounds like someone else abusing technological capabilities, don’t it.

But hey, credit due where it’s deserved. Mr. Transeau created many sound effects himself, and as we’re dealing with ‘90s BT, the results aren’t as superfluous as his later efforts would end up. Case in point: Orbitus Teranium, a bare-bone bit of breakbeat supplemented with stutter and glitch effects at various points. In some ways, it’s nothing but a showcase of this technology, but as it capably serves the rhythmic momentum, it works. Most of the effects BT uses throughout ESCM are in this vein, and I’ve no problem with it, so long as the music it’s supporting can stand on its own. And that’s where ol’ Brian sometimes fumbles.

BT displays many influences and inspirations, but his songwriting can’t keep up. Opener Firewater is a perfect example, for the most part a solid “I can Enigma too” slice of world beat. Yet, at the back end of the track, BT suddenly chirps in with singing of his own, accompanied by folksy acoustic guitar strums and… wait, is this the same song? And… it’s already over. What was the point of that? Other instances crop up that are nothing but doodly bits of orchestral swells or piano tinkering because, hey, BT can play such music, but doesn’t know how to write a regular song around them. Then there’s Solar Plexus, the ‘rocktronica’ track even the most ardent BT fan scratches their head over. It’s nothing more than Mr. Transeau going “I can Trent Reznor too”, but what would Nine Inch Nails fans say about it? “Fuck you, Rick Transeau.”

Still, enjoyment outweighs the frustration. Flaming June’s a bona-fide classic, Jan Johnston’s contributions are pleasant enough, and early BT-Breaks are skill, three cuts of which we get. ESCM is considered a flawed gem, and perhaps BT realized this, using a mock-up of the 2001 Monolith for cover art. Or maybe he couldn’t clear the rights to the original as an image, resorting to a phonylith instead.