Gang Starr - Full Clip:A Decade Of Gang Starr

Virgin Records America, Inc: 1999

This double-disc collection of Gang Starr material opens with a live ‘rest in peace’ call-and-response recording for the then-recently deceased rapper Big L, a once rising star in the New York scene. Though Full Clip was released over ten years prior to Guru’s own death, I have to say it’s somewhat eerie hearing such a shout-out in the here and now. Like, as though the specter of death continued to lurk in the shadows. Waiting... Waiting...

Anyhow.

Gang Starr was comprised of producer DJ Premier and emcee Guru, and were one of the longest-running successful acts within hip-hop that comprised of just those two elements, neither overshadowing the other. Often it’s the microphone handlers that get all the attention; or a DJ will strike out on his own to become a top-grade turntablist; or the producer’s craft behind the mixing boards turns him into a hot commodity within the scene at large. Gang Starr was all of this, a remarkable feat considering all the factors that should have held them back beyond their Golden Era breakout. The whole ‘DJ and MC’ dynamic was a bygone relic of the ‘80s, overrun by the emergent gangsta scene, yet somehow they kept going when many of their peers fell by the wayside. Did folks mistake them for a gangsta act as well, what with a name like Gang Starr? D’oh, of course not. It was all about respect.

First off, Guru’s smoky style of rap was as smooth as beatnik flow. He had no need for aggressive shouting or profanity-laced lyrics; his words are sharp and to the point. Whether taking other MCs to task, telling street life tales, or giving shout-outs to jazz, he comes across as a wise elder, someone you best pay attention to when he speaks, as you’ll undoubtedly learn something after. If only DJ Premier wasn’t always making such fine beats, I wouldn’t be accidentally zoning him out so frequently.

Therein lay Gang Starr’s other weapon: DJ Premier’s impeccable sense of sampling. While he likely wasn’t the first to pilfer jazz and funk records of New York City’s past, he definitely became synonymous with the sound, almost single-handily dictating how underground eastcoast hip-hop would sound for the ensuing decade. If you weren't lucky enough to get Premier's touch on your track, chances were you'd end up style-biting the smooth, jazz-loop form for credibility.

Or perhaps all that is just the impression this Full Clip two-CD retrospective wants to impart. I'll admit I haven't delved into Gang Starr's proper albums, in part because this one provides almost all that you could want from the duo in a nice, tidy package. Their classics are accounted for (Words I Manifest, Militia, Rep, Steez ...plenty more!), plus assorted guest spots and rare one-offs make this more comprehensive than the Mass Appeal best-of released in 2006. Of course, Gang Starr’s style, with their unapologetic old-school approach to hip-hop, may not be for everyone. Like, those who figure trap-rap the height of sophistication.

Hieroglyphics - Full Circle

Hiero Imperium: 2003

During the mid-'90s (yes, always with the '90s), the Hieroglyphics crew were gods among the backpack contingent of hip-hop fans. First to break out was that funkiest of homo sapiens, Del, soon followed by Souls Of Mischief (A-Plus, Opio, Phesto, and Tajai). When label conflicts halted all their momentum for a while, the posse eventually took matters into their own hands and began self-releasing material through their website. As the decade came to a close, the Hiero crew made a definitive statement with 3rd Eye Vision, an instant classic among underground heads. The group's proper LP debut showcased everything that made Hieroglyphics such darlings of that scene, with sharp lyricism in the form of solo freestyles and group raps, plus great production that built upon the Golden Era's fun, free-wheelin' vibes. For those tired of mainstream rap's glamour and gangsterisms, it was a breath of fresh air.

Then the group went silent.

Oh, individually, their careers carried on successfully (especially so Del's), but as a posse, Hieroglyphics seemed to turn more wayward from each other with every passing year. Dammit, can't let rumour mongering tarnish their legacy. Half a decade after 3rd Eye Vision, it came time to release a new full-length, make yet another definitive statement; silence the doubters and reclaim hip-hop back from the new growing popularity of bling and crunk.

Or not.

Truth is, rap collectives have a difficult time beating the sophomore slump, possibly more so than any other form of music. The fire that initially united a group almost always fizzles out (or, in the case of an act like Jurrasic 5, never flares as bright as their breakout). Plus, solo careers make things difficult in drawing everyone back, other commitments demanding their time.

This is definitely highlighted on Full Circle by Del's presence; or rather, his near lack of it. Whoever you felt was the strongest emcee of Hieroglyphics, there's no doubt Tha Funkee Homosapien was a driving force on many a Hiero cut. Here though, he barely shows up, and when he does he comes off sounding bored, as though he's got other things to do (Halo’s the only exception). Maybe it was simply a case of creative burnout after so many successful projects in the years between, but his lackadaisical raps hurt the album.

But a crew doesn’t die just because one member ain’t on his A-game. Sadly, this feeling permeates throughout the album. Nothing comes across as outright awful (except that ridiculous Jingle Jangle cut), yet there’s something lacking on Full Circle. Steve ‘Flash’ Juan of rapreview.com called it missing ‘dopeness’, and I can’t think of a better term for it. Those moments that make you skip back to hear a track or verse again - filled on so many Hiero projects - just don’t exist on Full Circle. For the most part, it’s an album that sounds fine as it’s playing, but is easily forgotten once finished, with little incentive to replay any time soon.

Various - Frosty

Waveform Records: 1996

For many of my teenage years, I hadn't a clue what acid jazz exactly was, nor was I alone in my befuddlement. None of my peers knew either, though not much of surprise as I was the only chap among the 'Rupert Ravers' that even had much of an inclining towards the downtempo side of electronic music – at least enough to dig beyond the obvious names. I'd heard a little acid jazz before, but without knowing that's what it was, much less interested in exploring further. Just the name itself seemed so esoteric, a form of music that only old, mature ravers could get into. I'll grant that's partially true, but minor generational gaps didn't stop me from checking out old, respected ambient artists.

So when I saw a promotional blurb for a new Waveform compilation called Frosty, promising such trendy buzz words as 'acid jazz' and 'shadow jazz?' (yes, they had a question mark), I knew I'd get a crash course in the sound whether I liked it or not. The label was the first independent one I put blind devotion into, picking up all and everything I could, but for an imprint primarily peddling ambient dub and world beats, this was something different. Though I had faith in their musical output, I wasn't sure I was prepared for such a change of direction.

Truth is, acid jazz is a ridiculously broad style of music, running the gamut of brisk, uptempo dance-fusion work to, well, this compilation. This is about as chilled out the genre can get without becoming something else entirely, and I can see why some of the PR folks back then wondered if they could get away with calling it 'shadow jazz'. It has that Ninja Tune-like vibe going for it, with beats and melodies quite laid back, at times even dipping toes into dub and trip-hop’s pool. The cover may have an ice-encrusted buffalo, but the music paints more of a relaxing late-afternoon summer lounging on a patio with a spliff and lemonade.

A couple of prominent names appear with Howie B and A Man Called Adam, but the real standouts come from relative unknowns, supplied from the short-lived UK label 2 Kool. James Bong and The Thirteenth Sign provide tunes more on a ‘balearic trip-hop’ bent (yes, I know that’s daft), whereas Mr. Electric Triangle, Hunch, and Jaziac Sunflowers (that Moog!) lean more proper acid jazz. Round things out with quirky contributions from Beach Flea (alias of Man Called Adam; twelve minutes of downbeat haze) and The Egg (no, not The Egg; different group), and all arranged with a strong flow, and you have another winner in Waveform’s catalogue.

Back in the day, I could tell this was a strong compilation, yet I hadn’t a clue what to make of it. Thrown on at a house party or shared on headphones, none of my peers could either. We all agreed, however, it was class, worth the repeated plays. Perhaps that was all we needed.

The Misted Muppet - From The Legend (Original TC Review)

Trancelucent Productions: 2004

(2013 Update:
The opening few paragraphs are a good example of the convoluted ways we'd occasionally look for unique angles to review music at TranceCritic. All that mumbling about fantasy influences, though definitely in need of being touched upon given the material, still ended up being overlong and undoubtedly tedious for those just wondering about the music.

Speaking of, I'm surprised at how well this CD's held up. From The Legend remains one of the best full-on psy albums I've heard, in that I hardly grow weary of playing it for the duration - almost always there's those two or three tracks that'll drag psy albums down to mediocre levels, but not here. And holy shit, does Toward The Castle kick ass! I think I enjoy it more now than I did back then. Shame Misted Muppet didn't do much after this.)


IN BRIEF: Fearful full-on trance.

Metal has it. Folk has it. New Age kind of has it. Orchestral definitely has it. Yet, for some reason, electronic music is bereft of it. What is it? Why, songs dealing in fantasy, of course.

Now, I’m not talking about references to fairies or unicorns as heard in some of the more fey forms of trance music. I’m talking full-blown, sword-wielding, magic-casting, mud-on-your-boots, dragons-on-your-neck fantasy. The kind young teenage boys absorb themselves in with Tolkien novels, Forgotten Realms quests, and online Ultima sessions.

Of course, the reason for this is elementary. EDM, with all of its fancy, hi-tech sounds and effects, is normally concerned with two things: the dancefloor in the present, and the music of the future. Fantasy, with all its historical milieus, has no place in the realms of synths. Attempts at melding the two often sound conflicted - either electronic elements are neutered to the point of sounding no different than New Age compositions, or they overwhelm fantasy’s organic textures.

However, if any EDM camp has a decent shot at bridging the gap, it’s probably psy. With properly executed parties, psy already has a mystical quality to it. Additionally, the psy-sters love their Tolkien imagery of magical mushrooms and exotic forests. A natural progression in making that jump to full-blown fantasy seems likely enough provided someone has the production chops to attempt it. Enter The Misted Muppet, I suppose.

Comprised of Dagan Israeli and Tal Hassidi when this album was released, the duo are yet another member of the ever growing Israel Full-On Mafia (unofficial name, but if it works for Swedish house...). To distinguish themselves from the glut, Misted Muppet filled their music with traditional fantasy themes inspired from movie soundtracks: dragons, warriors, wizards, epic quests - you name it. While this concept sounds good on paper, does it translate will into full-on psy trance? Let’s find out, then.

They certainly don’t waste any time in getting their agenda across. The Mist starts with the sounds of a battle: horses are galloping, swords are chopping, and people are dying, all to the refrains of a mournful piano melody (bearing some resemblance to Mike Oldfield’s Tubular Bells opening). A piercing, wraith-like wail quickly interrupts the intro, and we’re plunged into typical full-on territory.

...for pretty much the rest of the album.

Oh, it’s certainly better-than-average full-on, and Misted Muppet are quite clever with their chosen template. However, if you have no interest in this style of psy, or can’t stand releases where each successive song follows the same structure as the last, then this release isn’t for you.

That out of the way, here’s the finer details of what you’ll hear on From The Legend.

The album is roughly divided into three stanzas, with each track in said stanza bearing similarities to one another. As mentioned, the opening song of From The Legend makes decent use of orchestral samples to start the track out before diving into familiar full-on sounds. The next two follow suite, with symphonic swells setting ominous tones before driving rhythms burst forth. As for the psy sounds, it’s most of the usual stuff: wiggly acid, squiggly synths, bubbly bells, etc. Misted Muppet’s material stands out though, as everything is intensely chaotic, yet well suited for their environments. Aside from brief breakdowns for breathers, there are always two or three synths going at it. And, remarkably enough, where psy trance is concerned, they never sound disjointed together.

Misted Muppet simplify things a little with Midnight Tales and Innocence. Rather than the frenzy action of the previous tracks, things get reduced to more typical trance fare; this includes a heavier reliance on loops and, gasp, extended breakdowns. Heh, really, these features aren’t too obtrusive in this case, and Muppet do make nice use of some ethereal female chants at points. But, ugh, what’s with that build in Innocence? It could have been better handled, me thinks, had the sounds used not been so annoying.

Up to this point, From The Legend has had a decent sense of flow more akin to a live PA set than an album narrative, which is fine if you go into this expecting it. However, if the fantasy artwork had you hoping for the tracks to provide something of an epic quest, you may be a little disappointed thus far.

The good news is Misted Muppet do bring it for their final act. Toward The Castle, as the title suggests, has a sense of urgency that’s been absent in previous tracks; storm clouds roll in as a deliciously warped synth line worms about to driving rhythms. A squiggly bit of acid marks the climax, which isn’t quite the payoff I’d have liked after the first half, but at least it’s suitable in setting us up for Mercenaries, where opposing forces appear to collide as piano melody gets tweaked out.

And, to cap this metaphorical battle off, Might And Magic wraps things up with triumphant ceremonial bells and trumpets along with all your usual full-on fare. Actually, some of the melodies sounds like something you might have heard in the computer game of the same name. I can see this one being popular with the RPG geeks, er, players out there.

As for the album’s title track, well, it suffers from ‘One-Track-Too-Many Syndrome’. There’s nothing bad about it, but it’s filled with too many sounds already heard, and the unique feature - droning, wailing synths during breakdowns - are hardly as interesting as all the quirky things we’ve heard elsewhere. At least the intriguing ambient piece Defender Of The Past makes for a nice epilogue though.

So, yeah. Pretty decent full-on album here. It’d have been cool to hear Misted Muppet attempt to expand their fantasy motifs more but this is a first attempt at it, and perhaps a second album will see them shake free of the standard full-on trappings a little more. The willingness to even try an album like From The Legend is worth a couple brownie points anyway.

Push - From Beyond

Beat Buzz Records: 2000

Mike Dierickx (formerly Dirk, more often referred to as M.I.K.E. these days) has produced a ridiculous amount of electronic music under an almost equally ridiculous number of aliases. It was under his Push guise, however, that he finally broke through to the ears of damn near every follower of trance upon signing with Bonzai. What had once been a simple acid project quickly turned into one synonymous with energetic anthem trance, even if most folks were only familiar with a single Push tune.

Still, Universal Nation is a deserved track of its classic status. Initially released on The Real Anthem EP, it’s, um, a real anthem, a tune that helped bridge the new generation of trance from the old guard. Listening to it these days, it’s incredibly simple in execution, almost absurd that it blew up the way it did - that simple galloping hook and bare-bones beat should have come off dated by the year 1998, an artifact of trance arrangements from the early ‘90s. Yet, the hook’s also remarkably catchy, and given enough sound variation throughout that you never grow tired of it. Of course, the supersaw drop at the peak of a build-up is more of a late ‘90s trope, but even then it’s understated, far from the overblown schlock that would come to dominate anthems in the following years.

M.I.K.E. followed Universal Nation up with a few more singles for Bonzai, of which were eventually gathered up with a smattering of other new material for a proper LP. Unfortunately, the result comes off mediocre, suffering from that all-too familiar complaint in how so many dance albums – especially from the '90s – are put together: little more than a collection of singles. Maybe it wasn't M.I.K.E.'s fault, in that he had no say in how his label was going to release it; or maybe he simply didn't have enough experience in the album field to make use of the medium (I think this was his first one, unless he did another prior under some alias I'm not aware of). Comparing From Beyond to some of the best trance albums up to the year 2000, however, it sadly lacks.

It’s not like the tunes are bad or anything. Like most of M.I.K.E.’s work over the years (well, until recently, so I’ve heard), it’s competently produced trance, mostly sticking to the minor-key anthem formula that was popular in the late ‘90s. Thing is, Mr. Dierickx has long struck me as just that: competent, a sort of ‘Oliver Lieb lite’, which undoubtedly sounds more like a diss than intended. Both have a knack for solid trance hooks, smart beats, and obsession with aliases - Lieb just does it better.

I suppose From Beyond is a handy CD to have if you can’t be bothered with tracking down M.I.K.E.’s Push material in the single format. The music’s definitely quality if you figure turn-of-the-century trance was that genre’s peak. It’s just a shame more wasn’t done with the album format.

The Higher Intelligence Agency - Freefloater

Waveform Records: 1995/1996

After a recent raid of post-millennium ambient techno, I discovered a significant pile of producers making bleepy, dubby variants of the sound for years now. Of course, none quite capture the quirky charm of The Higher Intelligence Agency, but all my forlorn musings of never hearing it again comes off silly now. Dammit, why’d it have to be so obscure? Or maybe it wasn’t, and I was just a lazy sod. Hey, it’s not my fault I was spoiled for ease-of-access to this stuff during the mid-‘90s.

It also doesn’t escape the fact the world would have been a better place had The HIA made more than two albums (true, there were several collaborations after, but I’m talking pure, unfiltered Bobby Bird). On Freefloater, he’d refined his brand of ambient techno to such a degree, the possibilities of where he could go next were tantalizing. Maybe he figured he’d done all he could with the project in a solo capacity, at least in an album format. Fair enough if so, but man…

I guess this is the part where I’m supposed to sell you on how incredible, brilliant, and revolutionary this album is, or something. Well, nothing doing, because any hyperbole on my end well undoubtedly oversell Freefloater. Truth is, for as unique a sound The HIA cultivated, it isn’t for everyone. Those cold electronic soundscapes aren’t the most inviting, even with the dubbed-out mixdown giving it a degree of warmth. Granted, that was The HIA’s whole appeal, but it could take some time before coming around to Mr. Bird’s music, if you were ever interested in the first place.

If anything, Freefloater is a HIA album for fans of The HIA. Colourform was an easier introduction to Bird's style of music, tracks either fun uptempo numbers or blissy ambient dub. This release, on the other hand, meshes the two together throughout, creating cuts that come off far more abstracted than anything on the prior album. The mix of tempos still exists, now continuously coupled with bleepy acid, crafty space-electro rhythms, and a general fascination with the machine aesthetic.

I'd detail some of these tracks but, um... I'm kinda at a loss for words. I've had Freefloater for years now, listened and enjoyed it many times, yet adjectives still fail me with the particulars, beyond the ol' “it sounds like The Higher Intelligence Agency” fallback. Hell, even the track titles aren't much help. Hubble? Skank? Ting?? Tortoise??? What do these names mean? Little, if anything, in these tracks sound like what those words suggest (and you'd think something like Ting would be incredibly helpful). I can tell you Fleagle is both goofy and soothing, but describing the specifics is beyond me.

All I can offer is Freefloater is a fine album if you're intrigued by ambient techno's potential. It hasn't dated in the slightest, and almost nothing I've come across since its release has emulated Bird's style. Definitely a win-win scenario for the curious among you.

Neil Young - Freedom

Reprise Records: 1989

Even for my generation, I came to the Neil Young Wagon rather late. My first proper exposure was during his Harvest Moon period, when you couldn't escape that song's video on MuchMusic. For quite a few more of my demographic, however, they'd been hip to the old rocker since the late '80s, when they either learned of Young's initially banned-from-MTV video This Note's For You, or the rousing follow-up chart hit Rockin' In The Free World. I probably heard it at some point, but I was more into The Beach Boys in those years.

More so, Young was getting named dropped as a major influence by several up-and-coming alt-rock and grunge acts like Sonic Youth, The Pixies, and such. Growing inspired by this new legion of noise makers, ol' Neil dropped his current blues outfit and gathered a few chaps for a straight-up rock session, the results of which became the rare Eldorado EP, limited to only five-thousand copies and not sold in America. Da'fuq?

Oh well, most of those songs showed up on his next full-length, Freedom, and thank God they did, 'cause they're some of the most kick-ass music he’d made since the early '80s Crazy Horse album Re-Ac-Tor. Though his wonderful mess of noise occurs on songs On Broadway, No More, and Eldorado, Don’t Cry’s a real highlight for that sound, twice featuring a blistering wall of incredible distortion (having an industrial clank as part of the rhythm’s hilarious too!).

But Freedom wouldn’t have been considered a comeback album if it’d been a bunch of noisy rock. Young’s musical appeal was broad, many enjoying his folksy side along with forays into country and blues. This album has it all, which is a win-loss situation, depending on where you stand on such things. Me, I’m all for a little pleasant folk like Hangin’ On A Limb, plus the lengthy blues-rock Crime In The City’s great if you enjoy tales of everyday people (Eldorado’s awesome for this too, though obviously with more of a Mexican bent). Heck I don’t even mind the country tunes The Ways Of Love and Too Far Gone - Young’s about the only guy I can stand doing country, for some reason (probably because it’s Neil F’n Young). Unfortunately, two of his ballads - Someday and Wrecking Ball - are pants, especially so the former, coming off like an incredibly weak mid-‘80s country ditty (okay, not everything he does turns out). Really, the whole album has that “only in the ‘80s” production sheen to it, though not nearly as bad as many other releases of that decade.

So obviously I’d recommend Freedom if you’re looking to get acquainted with ol’ Neil, but aside from Rockin’ In The Free World, there aren’t any all-time classics on here. It’s probably more enjoyed after indulging in a greatest hits package or something, to find out if his style of music’s even your taste. While Freedom does have something for everyone, it’s unlikely everyone will enjoy it all.

Various - Freebass Breakz & Sub Funk Beats

Shadow Records: 1999

First, apologies for the crummy image at left. The only one I could find online was too small to use, thus I resorted to taking a photo with my phone. I’ve reviewed obscure stuff before, but always found a decent cover pic' (sometimes uploaded to Lord Discogs myself back when I had access to a scanner …maybe I should get one?). I know this CD isn’t terribly well-known, but surely something from Shadow Records wouldn’t be this obscure.

Yes, in a total coincidence, we’re dealing with another release from Instinct’s sub-label. Hey, they released a ton of music during their run, and believe you me we'll be dealing with more of their output down the road – they were very affordable CDs, after all. Still, Shadow's hit-to-miss ratio varied wildly, and this particular mix with the ghetto title Freebass Breakz & Sub Funk Beats is definitely a miss.

Well, not a full-on miss. More like hitting the border of the target, if you were after the hottest offering in breaks of the late '90s. Progressive, Florida, big beat, and even the burgeoning nu-skool was what folks wanted, and Freebass Breakz only sparingly has that. Instead, we're dealing with proper street-funk breaks and ...um, space breaks? I'm not sure what to call it, as it doesn't really fall into any conventional genre of that scene.

Before that though, let’s deal with some straight-up, dirty acid funk! Aw yeah, Chester Rockwell’s Alice In Wonder’s a fine way to kick things off, and following it up with a couple big beat jams is mint as well - Crossfader Dominator from Sniper is good fun, and a shame it ends so quickly. In fact, the entire opening bit is over in but seven minutes, which wouldn’t be so bad if this was a set featuring plenty of quick mixes but that’s not the case. The next cut runs nearly eight minutes long, with plenty more after that of significant length.

Then there’s that abrupt transition. Narco Dogs’ Breakbeat On Mars is such a sudden turn in tone, it may as well be an entirely different CD. This is where that ‘space breaks’ thing comes in, and though General Midi’s Outa Orbit leans more nu-skool than the others, many of these tunes seem to pilfer old school trance hooks to complement their sub-bass rhythms (though with the ’98 remix of Total Confusion, I can see why, what with borrowing elements from the original 1990 Heavenly Mix, almost a proto-trance cut itself). Unfortunately, a lot of this sounds muddy, and by the time we get back to regular big beat action near the end of the mix, most of that initial momentum’s been lost.

Still, despite a wonky track list and average-at-best mixing from Brock Landers, Freebass Breakz is an interesting listen. I honestly can’t say I’ve heard many breaks sets that sound like it, which probably was the reason I picked it up so long ago. Better than another damn DJ Icey CD anyway.

Mujaji - Free Rain

Shadow Records: 2001

Though a sub-label of Instinct, Shadow Records was regarded on par with such luminary downtempo labels like Ninja Tune (probably didn't hurt they handled the UK imprint's US distribution in the mid-'90s.) As time wore on, Shadow's manifesto turned towards giving relatively unknown producers a chance to shine, whether in their various Sessions compilations, or proper LP form. Somehow, Shadow also kept the cost of their CDs low, making them incredibly tempting purchases for those with limited income *cough*. Sadly, when Instinct was bought out in the mid-'00s, so too was Shadow, and thus ended one of the more eclectic labels to ever operate on American soil.

The label history out of the way, let’s now talk Mujaji. Um... that’s a little tricky. Lord Discogs has almost no info, while their own website’s biography tells a tale of interplanetary travelers, bringing about musical manifestations to Earth, and eventually leaving because “their home world was invaded and taken over by Reptilians from the Andromeda Galaxy.” Da’fuq? Best I can glean from that is the brothers Shmack (I’m assuming they’re siblings, but they may be cousins) disbanded after a while. Before then, they bounced around after their Shadow Records debut, going from Bastard Jazz Records, Setanta Records, and Nomadic Music, releasing a couple more albums during those years. Why aren’t they on Discogs? The Lord hath failed me there.

Anyhow, Free Rain came out when Shadow Records was signing several up and comers, and as such Mujaji got lost in the shuffle of other acts like Saru, Illform, and Goo. And yes, it’s perfectly fine if you haven’t heard of these names - like I said, Shadow was all about exposing unknowns. Unfortunately, unless you’re a dedicated label hound, it makes it difficult to choose which albums to pick up, even if on a whim. I truthfully don’t even remember why I got Free Rain. I’m glad I did though, as it’s a fun album.

Mujaji hit an interesting mix of gritty trip-hop beats, funky downtempo hooks, and quirky scratches and sampling. For the most part their tunes are light-hearted and fun, but occasional somber moments crop up too, sometimes within the same track. They’re also quite different from each other and rather difficult to summarize, so here’s a quick rundown of a few standouts:

Free The Rich - great beats coupled with a lovely flute hook and ambience that sounds like a machine breathing.
Work For Us - a sample of maybe an industrial site elevator manipulated into the rhythm.
Italian Waffle - country guitars, Far East dialog, flutes, and... a digital harmonica?
The Fork - funky guitar licks, while the rhythm’s trying to be d’n’b, but Mujaji ain’t lettin’ it. Oh... oh... There it is!

And there’s more, but I’ll let you discover them if you’re so inclined. I’ll grant Free Rain may not be your cup of chamomile if you’re not into the quirky side of trip-hop, but it’s an album that’s charming enough to warrant a listen.

Norman Feller - Frameless Structure

Elektrolux: 2003

This was an album I could have written an early Random Review for back in my TranceCritic days, but chickened out. I didn't feel confident enough in my writing such that I could convey what I enjoy about Frameless Structure while staying somewhat objective about things. Of course, in this blog o' mine, I can fanboy gush all I like, but it's not like this album is that good. Probably I also shirked on writing about it before because I wasn't willing to take the scalpel to the only release Norman Feller's used his full name on, as it suggests more of a personal attachment on the musician's part; a magnum opus, if you will.

Here's the thing about Mr. Feller: he makes a lot good, quality music, but seldom anything I'd consider great. He's made a tidy career in the tech-house scene under his Terry Lee Brown, Jr. guise, yet never have I seen his name dropped when lists of classics come about. Even in his early hard trance days, many of his tunes were mint, but rarely the standouts on compilations of the stuff I’d collect (and usually only if it was in collaboration). Forcing myself to take this critical ear to Frameless Struture - which is quite good, let's be honest – would turn myself into a hypocrite, praising something that others more deeply immersed in dubby ambient techno and chill could easily point out as sub-par, as little more than 'beginner's music'.

And they’d be right. Ol’ Norman’s offering is quite simplistic compared to the likes of Ultimae’s output of the same period in time (though the mixdown’s almost as lush). Most of the track arrangements are straightforward with few unexpected twists in sounds and samples utilized. If you come to Frameless Structure for challenging chill-out, you’ve definitely come to the wrong place.

That all said, this is still one of my favourite downtempo discs to throw on. As with so much of Mr. Feller’s music, it’s easy to get into, and he always finds some charming hook or catchy rhythm that you’ll enjoy from start to finish. As Frameless Structure has its theme centered around cosmic soundscapes, you have plenty of spacey pads, ethereal voices, and dubby beats throughout, though Feller spices the formula up enough so each track sounds unique from the others. The titular cut, for instance, has an incredibly sparse beat, merely an 808 slow-break accompanied with clicky percussion. Further down the index, the dual combo of Energetic Dub and Orbital Slide show off ol’ Norman’s funkier side of beat craft; and whoo, that pure, cavernous dub sound of Tiefenrausch ...bliss.

I guess my ultimate fear is overselling this album. It has all the things that I enjoy in ambient and chill (goodness, is that closer Melting From The Inside ever gorgeous!), but I can understand why others may not fall sway to Mr. Feller’s charms. Frameless Structure’s a high recommendation though, if you’re looking to expand your chill-out palette.