Raekwon - Immobilarity

Sony Music Entertainment (Canada): 1999

It all starts somewhere, and for yours truly, Raekwon’s Immobilarity was the one that got me taking hip-hop seriously. For sure stronger albums that could have done the trick existed (including, of course, Raekwon’s first album, Only Built For Cuban Linx), but by and large I regarded the world of rap music as something rather gimmicky. The biggest hits were typically crossover party jams, and the stuff my peers played to piss off our parents over-glamorized gangsta tropes and sexual misogyny to the point of ridiculousness. Thank God The RZA Hits came along when it did, shoving some musical knowledge into my ears in the process. While it clued me into the ‘musical’ potential of the genre, soon I wised onto the ‘intellectual’ potential too.

Raekwon’s sophomore effort dropped about the same time as The RZA Hits, and, eager to quickly consume more Wu, I checked it out, promptly blown away yet again. This wasn’t some cliché ridden gangsta bullshit; rather, something far more mature in tone and concept was going on, painting an elaborate story of established criminals trying to survive in an ever-changing game. Immobilarity was hardly the first hip-hop album to do this, but it was the first that I properly heard.

Raekwon’s debut had the benefit of the Wu still being something of the streets, thus their tales of criminology still had a degree of honesty to them. In the four years following it, however, the group had conquered the globe, and it just didn’t make sense to still rap about roughin’ it to get by. They were made-men now, so to take the concept of ‘criminology raps’ to the next level (not to mention distance themselves from all the copy-cats), Raekwon changed the concept of Wu-gambinos to reflect that. They’re at the top now (or very near it), and they have to protect what’s theirs from all the up-and-coming hustlers. Maybe even find a way out of the game altogether, if the opportunity arises. If Cuban Linx could be considered a Scarface tribute, then Immobilarity is Godfather.

That could have made for an incredible album, if not for weighty expectations holding it down: heads only wanting Cuban Linx, Pt. 2, and RZA’s absence in the producer’s chair. Instead, we get a slew of relatively unknowns (sans Pete Rock) using rather cheap-sounding drum kits coupled with loops of heavily synthesized Mediterranean music (especially Chris Spheeris). Maybe it’s my Italian heritage, but I love hearing these loops, perfectly complementing Raekwon’s crime stories, but I can understand why others would dismiss Immobilarity on these ground, at least back in the day.

Now that hindsight’s clued folks up that RZA wouldn’t be on every Wu release (and we did get Cuban Linx, Pt. 2), folks have since softened on this album. Problems remain that keep it from being a hidden gem in the Wu discography (too much filler in the end; the beats still lack), but Immobilarity’s a worthy pick-up if you prefer your hip-hop having sophistication and class.

BT - 今 Ima

Reprise Records: 1996

Ha ha, neener neener! For once, those of us on the west side of the Atlantic got a superior version of a major electronic album. Suffer, all you Europeans, with your single-CD version of BT's debut album Ima, and bask in our glorious 2CD edition. Not only does this re-release contain all the original's tracks and the Sasha mini-mix, but also extra remixes, b-sides, and that Tori Amos collaboration everyone over here went monkey-poop over. Yes, yes, I feel that envy, that glorious- huh? What do you mean you can simply order it online? What is this, man – like, the future? Why am I talking like it's 1996, duuddee?

Seriously though, Ima's an album that is hopelessly dated to the era it came from. Hell, some of it sounded dated even by mid-'90s standards, with 'Balearic' sounds that 808 State left to the bin years prior. Meanwhile, whatever the heck ‘epic house’ was, it only lasted for that brief period of time, producers soon moving onto other forms of prog as the new hotness (gotta keep progressin’, after all). So while Ima had quite a bit going for it when it came out, if you’re one of those cats that can’t stand anything firmly rooted in the ‘90s, you may want to stay away.

Oh, you’re still here? Ah, I get it. You discovered BT long after this came out, and all his long-time fans proclaim Ima as Mr. Transeau’s best album front-to-back. It’s the one you’re supposed to have, even if you’re not much of a BT fan, a shining example of the musical craft he’s capable of, many times after put to great use or utterly squandered in equal share. What sets Ima apart from most of his later efforts is the relatively narrow scope of genre he explores. Balearic, epic, progressive, acid, psychedelic... whatever, dude, it’s just house music; a little trance too.

For my money, the bangin’ tracks like Quark, Tripping The Light Fantastic, Poseidon, Embracing The Sunshine, and Divinity are where it’s at, but that’s because I loves me some gnarly TB-303 workouts, which BT displays an expert use of. It even helps elevate the cornier moments in Embracing and Divinity, the uplifting piano refrains, guitar strums, woodwinds, strings and nature sound effects given extra heft (and keeping them firmly out of tepid ‘dream house’ territory). The other tunes are fine as well, though with more vocals so if you just can’t stand those, maybe- oh, wait, this is early-early BT, where he doesn’t sing at all. Carry on, then. (gotta say though, hearing Tori Amos endlessly repeat “blue skies” grates after a while)

Ultimately, the funny thing about Ima is that, for a BT album, it doesn’t really feel like a BT album, not anymore. His muse has wandered in so many bizarre, brilliant and crap ways since, that compiling a straight-forward dance long-player just doesn’t seem like him. Given Ima’s status among many, however, maybe he should do that again someday.

Nas - Illmatic

Columbia: 1994

The only Nas album you’re supposed to have, even if you’re not much of a Nas fan. That’s what everyone will tell you, and given his storied career, that’s some incredible praise to be had for Illmatic. So like any good hip-hop head, you go and get the CD or vinyl (no MP3 cheating, son!), throw it on, and think, “Yeah, this some good shit, back when hip-hop was best. Lovin’ those Eastcoast beats. Damn fine lyrics, Nas. This truly is illmatic and- what, it’s already done? That’s it!?”

‘Tis true, one of the most essential hip-hop albums of the ‘90s is also one of the shortest, clocking in at under forty minutes of your time, including a near two minute intro. And once It Ain’t Hard To Tell fades off, you’re left hanging, hungry for more. Illmatic’s almost calculated in its succinctness, building hype for the next release with just a teaser, a taste of what Mr. Nasir Jones could bring to the table (as if live freestyles around New York weren’t already enough). Most rappers these days have to generate such hype by way of the mixtape circuit, and here’s Nas doing it as a proper debut.

I can’t say it’s worked for me, though, as Nas in general hasn’t interested me much beyond respecting nods on the tracks I’ve heard him guest-verse. This is going to sound totally lame on my part, but even though ol’ Nasir’s main strength’s long been considered his lyrics, he has a voice and flow I find boring and un-dynamic. Just because his style is more a storyteller than a hype man doesn’t mean he couldn’t show more enthusiasm. Maybe his albums have him showing more passion, but if Illmatic is considered his best, I’m kind of doubting it, as he exhibits the same flow here as I’ve heard everywhere else.

Whatever. I’m a twat for thinking this way about Nas, but along with the laid-back jazzy vibes this album holds, his flow is appropriate. I couldn’t think those piano loops on The World Of Yours, organ licks on Memory Lane, xylophone plinks of One Love, or mix-up of everything in N.Y. State Of Mind working any better if Nas was shouting a bunch over them. There’s definitely urgency in his voice as he narrates his tales – street hustling, recollections of youth, or prophesying the future; the topics covered are generally what you’d expect of Eastcoast rap – so he will keep your attention. It’s just, damn, them backing tracks are mint. Dealing drugs, are ya’ (One Time 4 Your Mind)? That’s nice, Nas, but let me focus on that dope bassline some more. Yeah, that’s the stuff.

Okay, this review’s been lacking, I admit it. Illmatic deserves its classic status, but I’m the last person to tell you since I’m just parroting the narrative. To give a more informed opinion of it, I’d have to digest ten more of Nas' albums. And, well… yeah.

Beastie Boys - Ill Communication

EMI Music Canada: 1994

The Beastie Boys had been in the music business nearly a decade by the time Ill Communication hit the streets, utterly thriving in the world of hip-hop where a three-piece whiteboy posse should have miserably failed. Still, ten years is more than enough time for the rap game to see change, and much had in their region: Eastcoast-Westcoast rivalries heating up, gangsta rap emerging as the new hotness, and fresh New York-based upstarts like Wu-Tang Clan, Nas, and Notorious B.I.G. challenging the old guard. And what's with this DJ Premier guy, sampling all these jazzy loops as a counter to the g-funk of the left side of America? Well shit, son, the Beasties are actual musicians. If that’s the way things are going, why not forget drum machines and raiding the past for samples? Start making your own original jams. Ain't no one doing that in hip-hop, is there? (Guru, but whatever)

And that’s what they did done. Throughout this album, you get funky Big Apple jazz licks galore, nearly a third of which are pure instrumentals. What is this, a blaxploitation soundtrack? Nah, guy, but it’s definitely a throw-back of sorts to the music the Boys undoubtedly grew up surrounded by in the ‘70s. The cheesy cop caper video for Sabotage was hardly a one-off fancy on their part; rather, part of a larger whole that is the homage to that era.

The Beastie Boys don’t let the b-boy antics fall by the wayside though. Root Down, Sure Shot, Freak Freak, and Alright Hear This find them as sharp as ever, with beats – whether sampled or played live by Mike D – keeping the boom-bap ever fresh. The star, however, has to be Get It Together featuring Q-Tip of A Tribe Called Quest, a perfect meeting ground of old and (then) new Eastcoast hip-hop. The Boys were clued into what was shaking up within the Five Boroughs, even if their music didn’t always reflect it.

Yet, with all these positives, Ill Communication tends to get overlooked when discussion of Beastie Boys albums comes up. About all most folks know of it is that Sabotage is the big tune (wedged between Root Down and Get It Together no less, for an excellent string of tracks!), which is unfortunate but understandable. As the Beasties had entered that ‘experimental’ stage most long-running music groups go through, there’s ample genres indulged in here. Second track Tough Guy is a pure punk freakout, and while Sabotage oozes thrash rock too, going that far off the hip-hop road must of turned some heads away. Or what about the Bhudda chant funk-jam fusion of Shambala, delved even further in follow-up Bodhisattva Vow? Who do the Beasties think they are, Banco de Gaia? Darn Tibeten muses.

As such, the musical explorations renders Ill Communication somewhat lower on the “Repeated Play-Through” totem for most. It’s still an essential part of any fan’s collection though, so if you haven’t done got on this yet, then go get her done.

Banco de Gaia - Igizeh

Six Degrees Records: 2000

Anyone recall hearing The Prodigy's Fat Of The Land for the first time? The initial anticipation of new music from an act you enjoy, but feeling content in the assumption they couldn't surprise you any longer? Remember how Smack My Bitch Up utterly abolished those preconceived notions? If you're feelin' what I'm preachin' here, my friends, then you'll have an inclining of how I reacted to hearing Seti I on Banco de Gaia's fifth album.

I'm by no means comparing the two tracks, as they're worlds apart (although they do both make use of an ethnic vocalization). In terms of how they kicked off their respective albums, however, and how they represent everything good about the producers behind them, they're quite similar. At first ear-glance, Seti I works a slow-building atmosphere with oodles of nature samples and chants. A stomping rhythm emerges, and a ridiculously catchy vocal hook joins in. For the duration, this tune absolutely gets the blood pumping. I don't think Toby Marks has ever opened another album stronger than Igizeh, yet Seti I is barely known; heck, it didn't even make it to his 10 Years retrospective or other such collections. So, um, I guess the Prodigy comparison ends there.

Since Seti I wasn’t a single from an album that saw at least two, Igizeh must be an astounding album. Eh, it's good, but not that good. It's actually a rather curious one when you consider the context it came out in. As odd as it sounds, the album finds Marks doing a fair bit of bandwagon jumping, yet somehow maintaining his distinctive sound throughout. The first single, Obsidian, appears to borrow quite a bit from progressive trance, with the (barely comprehensible) vocals from Jennifer Folker lending it further to something far more commercial than you'd ever expect from Banco de Gaia (until You Are Here anyway). One could say the same about the new version of Glove Puppet, a dead-ringer and mint take on trip-hop. Meanwhile, second-single How Much Reality Can You Take has elements of big beat, a notion not gone unnoticed by Jack Dangers when he remixed the tune.

Those were the popular genres of the time (or from a couple years back anyway), but Igizeh features further musical adoption than that. Fake It Till You Make It finds Marks and company going about as full-on Pink Floyd as they ever did back in those days. Gizeh adds Moog funk to their characteristic grand musical builds (Egyptian slave revolutions never sounded so epic!). And B2 sounds like, well, Banco de Gaia did during the early ambient dub days, but with a fresh year-2000 sheen.

So in a roundabout way, Igizeh might have ended up being Banco's most accessible album, but those proggy world-beat attributes didn't quite make it so. The style Marks' project cultivates keeps this firmly on the underground side of music, though as far as 'electronica' albums go, it's remarkably diverse. A bit like that Prodigy album, come to think of it.

Faithless - If Lovin' You Is Wrong

Cheeky Records: 1996

Of all the tracks to pluck for single duty from Reverence, they went with this one? Insomnia and Salva Mea were no-brainers (lead-ins, to be honest), and Don't Leave made for a decent third. If Lovin' You Is Wrong always struck me as novelty track though, like Baseball Cap or Dirty Old Man - something to spice the album up with cheeky fun so it didn’t get weighed down with po-faced seriousness. It's definitely the most erotic you'll ever hear Maxi Jazz, the sort of sexy come-ons you wouldn't expect a pseudo-religious lyricist to indulge in (sample: “Eat you like a cannibal.” Classy.). Heck, in retrospect, the entire track feels at odds to Faithless’ discography; at least, to the extent I’ve kept tabs on the group, as their post-Outrospective material hasn’t graced my ears much. That’s a topic of discussion for later though.

As with a lot of Faithless music, If Lovin’ You Is Wrong defies easy description. I suppose Prince-influenced R’n’B is the easiest lump, borrowing tempo and sounds of that genre (oh so much womanly moaning throughout). But ho, there’s more: beat scratches, clanking percussion, and a gospel chorus! I... don’t think I’d want to hear that while “tearing off tights with my teeth”. Wait, that’s a different song. Overall, the tone is just too goofy to take seriously as a slice of pure eroticism, despite Maxi Jazz’ sexy descriptions of unhinged love making. Like I said, more of a novelty track following the uber-anthem Salva Mea on the album.

The single comes with a Sexy Edit (just the album version), and a Cleaned Up Edit, which removes all the moaning and adds more light-hearted bounce to the music. Oh, and some lyrics are changed. Instead of eating you like a cannibal, Maxi Jazz will “eat you like caramel.” That’s actually more erotic, come to think of it. And speaking of coming, Mr. Jazz initially said, “If you come first, well that’s the worst”; now he says, “If you go first, well that’s the worst.” That’s... um, that’s just lame now.

On the backend of the CD, we get a pair of remixes courtesy of Rollo and Sister Bliss (I assume, what with no other credits listed). The Slowly Risin’ Mix opens with Mr. Jazz singing his opening verse without any musical backing, a boogie-woogie bassline eventually emerging. Pretty fun stuff, and then it’s off to house land, getting a little prog, getting a little bosh, and, of course, a little hands-in-the-air. Not bad, but if you prefer it when Faithless goes for the full-bore anthems, then check out the Inflammable Mix, about as unabashedly over-the-top as the group could get in the ‘90s. For that matter, how’s this track even related to If Lovin’ You Is Wrong? Admit it, Rollo, you and Ms. Bliss just had another anthem lying around in demo form, and slapped it on here under pretence instead, didn’t you. Oh well, as far as b-sides go, it’s worth scoping this single out for.

Petar Dundov - Ideas From The Pond

Music Man Records: 2012

I'm not going to debate the genre classification of Petar Dundov's music any further than I did on his Escapements album. Whether you figure it can only be techno, or have your head out of your ass enough to admit it can be a hybrid of trance too, that's up to you. All I know is his music at times bears similarities to the likes of Laurent Garnier and Ralf Hildenbuetel of the early '90s, and folks sure didn't have as much trouble identifying their material. That sorted? Good. Let’s get into Mr. Dundov’s sophomore album then, released four years after his debut full length (Sculptures doesn’t really count at this late stage).

Having attracted a number of fresh followers after Escapements, the anticipation for Ideas From The Pond was high - would Dundov continue exploring the hypnotic, melodic roads that made tracks like Oasis so memorable? Yeah, guy, he totally did, in fact ditching almost all traces of straight-forward techno in the process - we’re a long way from the tribal workouts you might have found on his old-ass Libra EP. Instead, the classic synth influences are more apparent than ever, right down a vintage quality of sound that can’t help but draw comparison to original ‘70s and ‘80s gear. The music isn’t bogged down in nostalgic tones for their own sake though, but instead complements the contemporary production, such that the tracks retain a timeless quality to them (re: the Boards Of Canada effect). Case in point: the opening titular cut, a tune that will doubtlessly forever have Jarre comparisons, but sounding far richer and nuanced than anything the French synth composer could have achieved three decades ago.

Later in the album, the use of trancey arpeggios again find their way into cuts like Distant Shores and Brownian Interplay, though rather than having stripped-down techno rhythms in support, these have more groove going on, lending almost to a house vibe. I can imagine Sasha and similar jocks getting weak in the knees had he stumbled upon tracks like these during progressive house’s mid-‘90s-

ACK! No, no! Don’t go there! Bad enough the ‘deniers of trance’ contingent puts Dundov’s music in a weird no-man’s land of stylistic classification (melodic techno is not a genre!), but to rope the prog scene into this debate too turns it all ridiculously convoluted – they can barely sort their own scene out! Quickly, moving on. Ah, these final run of tracks are gorgeous, very ambient but without all the noodly drone aspects; maybe more Berlin School in inspiration. That’s a safe genre to compare Dundov to, right? Because the alternative would be ambient techno, which would drag the entirety of IDM into this mess, and we don’t want that, now do we?

Anyhow, Ideas From The Pond is a lovely little album for those with an inclining towards electronic music’s subtly melodic potential. Don’t miss out, ‘cause it might be another four years before- oh, he’s already released another album? Damn, dog, slow down!

ICE MC - Ice' N' Green

Polytel: 1994/1995

I had no idea this Canadian cover for ICE MC's third full-length effort was so unique. I've looked everywhere online for an image of it, yet all I keep finding is the standard 'blue cover'. Maybe I just happened across a rare alternate version, but I recall only ever seeing the 'green cover' in shops around my neck of the woods. It's not like North American covers of other European acts are difficult to find either, but when even the almighty Lord Discogs draws blank (until now!), I have to wonder what's going on. Was ICE MC just not popular enough on this side of the Atlantic for anyone to bother uploading this cover?

That's doubtful. While euro dance in general may not have been the commercial juggernaut current EDM is, it still saw healthy market share on store shelves and radio play, especially here in Canada. ICE MC, one of the hottest acts overseas in '94, was no less in demand here. Hell, I recall seeing cassette tapes of this album in gas stations! When you're sharing rack space with the likes of Shania Twain and Bryan Adams, you must be doing something right on the commercial end of things.

Us Canuckians got more than a new cover (one that made better sense, no less). Ice' n' Green's entire tracklist was re-arranged, spreading the hits out for stronger album flow rather than front-loading everything. Also, as we didn't get this until a year later, an updated remix of Take Away the Colour was added (it's almost German trance!), plus two mega-mixes! Holy cow, if you couldn't get enough of Think About The Way, It's A Rainy Day, and Take Away The Colour, you'll be more than sated by album's end.

Wait, perhaps I should get some background details of ICE MC sorted. First emerging from the hip-house scene behind the tutelage of Italian mega-producer Robyx, Mr. Campbell's early career was respectable enough but hardly anything to write home about. Somewhere along the way, however, the two realized they could have super-hits by jumping on the euro dance bandwagon, but not without some changes. ICE began incorporating more and more dancehall lyricism into his persona, even going so far as to grow dreads and adopting other Rastafarian traits. No longer coming off as some generic rapper, his personality shone through, especially as ragga raps were all the rage in euro dance.

It also didn't hurt that Robyx' productions skills seemingly peaked around this point, every tune on Ice' n' Green memorable in that mid-'90s euro sort of way (having one Alexa belting the choruses didn't hurt either). The Big Three still hold up, the knock-off fillers are charming in their own right (except for Run Fa Cover ...bleh), and stabs at hip-hop (Funkin' Wit You), 'euro' garage (!?), and even world beat (Afrikan Buzz) help give Ice' n' Green a solid assortment of cheesy-fun dance tuneage.

Now, if I could only understand half the words ICE MC's saying.

Markus Schulz - Ibiza '06 (Original TC Review)

Moist Music: 2006

(2013 Update:
Are these the same CDs? Yeah, the problems I bring up in this bloat of an old review (1500 words - you've been warned) are there, but they aren't as big of a deal as I remember them. Was I really so burned out on trance that year? Perhaps, as McProg truly was stale by the end of '06. It's not much of a surprise almost all the jocks, including Schulz, were moving on to other things within the year. Yet after hearing Ibiza '06 out of that context, in the here and now, I find there's a lot more to enjoy than I initially gave it credit for. Maybe that's all it takes, eh? Let an overplayed genre of music sit fallow for a few years, then return to it with fresh ears and (hopefully) matured insight. Then, and only then, can you properly take the music on its own merits, not weighed down by excessive marketing but as the original producers intended. Yeah...

Nah, this stuff's honestly just of higher quality than all the side-chaining, electro, 8th notes, and noise that followed in McProg's wake. If anything, Ibiza '06 can be regarded as the genre's last gasp of glory. If you enjoyed the stuff but passed this by because of genre fatigue when it first hit the streets, maybe take another look. After all, it's not like you're gonna be getting anything new in this style.)

IN BRIEF: Pleasant atmosphere, but little else.

We passed an anniversary of sorts this last week. Prior to November 2005, TranceCritic was still a relatively low-key review site with a small but consistent reader-base. We’d cause a stir here and there with some of our more opinionated reviews, but nothing drastic. That all changed though, when one of our writers, Cobalt, gave a less-than-favorable review on the debut artist album from Miami-based DJ Markus Schulz.

The aftermath of this review resulted in a slew of hate mail from Schulz’ loyal, dedicated, almost cult-like fanbase, a flaming the likes we’ve yet to see since. Of course, for a fledgling site such as ours, that kind of publicity did wonders to increase our profile, and in a weird sort of way, we owe some thanks to The Cult Of Schulz for that. Therefore, it seems fitting we should sit here with a new release from Mr. Schulz a year later, this time in the form of a DJ mix.

Much has happened in clubland this past year, and Schulz’ profile has diminished during this time. For a DJ who was apparently on the road to superstar status, this comes as a bit of a shock. After all, he’d done everything required to be amongst the big players: solid underground reputation; unique accessible style of music; popular internet radio show; cult-like fanbase to preach the Gospel of Schulz everywhere they went. What went wrong?

Two things, by my eyes. Firstly, the aforementioned debut album tanked at a point when a solid release would have cemented his status in clubland. It chased away his underground following and was met with apathy from casual folks, leaving only his newer fans to enjoy the results. Naturally, he continued pandering to this new fanbase, but it lead to the second problem: popular tastes were rapidly changing. His brand of feather-light prog was wearing thin by the end of 2005, especially with dirty tech the burgeoning hot sound. All the hype surrounding Schulz’ rising star faded away, the Swedish House Mafia now the topic of discussion.

It’s safe to say all the momentum his career had been building significantly slowed down this year. Obviously, he still has plenty of tour dates and the Cult of Schulz remains as loyal as ever, but one gets the impression he’s reached a crossroad in his musical direction. Should he carry on with his ‘McProg’ sound that helped him gain all that momentum in the first place, even though it has grown stale? Or might it be best to search new avenues, taking his old ideas along with him?

Ibiza ‘06 is this year’s annual mix from the Schulzer, representing the sort of music he played at his residency on the island this past summer. Additionally, he’s decided to showcase mostly new talent here rather than make a mix with obvious anthems, which as the head of a label (Coldharbour, d’uh) is always smart business practice. If Markus has moved on or stayed the course, we should find our answer here. Into the player goes Disc 1.

And judging from the opening chunk of tracks, Schulz is still playing his ‘twinkle’ prog (heh, there’s a million-and-one terms for it). If you still haven’t heard of it, McProg tends to have heavy grooves, airy sweeping effects, and, the clincher, little melodies that sound like they were sampled from ballerina toy boxes. It makes for pleasant music but doesn’t have the depth of other forms of prog. The fact most of it is similarly arranged like epic trance (lots of long unnecessary breakdowns and builds) has caused many of the progressive elite to disown the sound altogether. Still, it is charming music when handled well.

And Markus does handle this sound very well for the first half of disc one. Benya’s Mimas may have you rolling your eyes, mind, but after that we are taken into some nice, grooving tracks with deep, immersive soundscapes. Progresia and Francis Blaid offer synthy hooks as well in their tracks for those who like something to hum along to.

Addictive brings the rhythmic intensity up, and it seems this mix is ready to be taken to the next level. Then, the breakdown hits; and, God, is it awful. Seriously, that wailing... guitar, is it? Who knows, but it’s terribly hokey (but probably will be a smash anyway) and the complementing trancey hooks in the build are so rote, it kills the mood in an instant. A shame, because Monakhov’s follow-up Feels Lonely is an interesting track, with a nifty grumbling bassline. It certainly would have segued better from Mystery than Addictive.

From here, this mix goes absolutely nowhere. Oh, there’s some nice sounding tracks to be had - Benz & MD’s Turning The Curves is a wonderful euphoric trancer, and Technology & Computer is a decent groover - but Markus seems interested in showcasing songs rather than making any kind of thematic set. If there is a theme, it’s the running amiable atmosphere these tracks provide. Unfortunately, many of them contain lackluster hooks, most of which you’ll forget after the disc finishes. Well, maybe Chuck Luis’ Collision will be remembered, but only because it’s such a laughable try-hard.

Most telling though, is the second half doesn’t contain any of Schulz’ trademark sound. It would appear he’s moving into standard van Buuren styled trance, although with a thicker groove and slightly less emphasis on the uplift. How does this affect discero numero deux, then?

By going all trance, it would seem, but don’t run away just yet. Ormatie establishes a deep atmosphere, and Joonas Hahmo brings us the groove with a charming hook, which opens the second CD promisingly.

Some pleasant deep tracks go by, including a little bit of twinkle in Glimmer if you still crave it, but these are just warm-ups for YearZero, which is vintage Andy Moor: chopped-up vocals, angelic pads, twinkly melodies, and body-movin’ rhythms. Well, Orkidea has a hand in this track too, but folks will be thinking Moor all the way here. He might have become predictable as fuck, but Andy’s style does work, and YearZero makes for a nice peak in this mix. Achems [sic?] Razor from Kenneth Thomas works nicely as a follow-up, with a simple, pounding lead and mechanical sound effects.

Markus pulls a surprise in throwing down some techno from Roland Klinkenberg, which for a moment made me think we were going to see a completely unexpected tangent from the Schulzer. Alas, it’s not to be, but it does change the focus of this mix, leading us into deeper pastures where lots of floaty pads and minor melodies dominate. It’s an utter bore though, with rudimentary hooks, placid rhythms, and very little sticking in your mind. Sure, I enjoy some atmospheric soundscapes in my trance, but when it’s done in a DJ set, it had better lead to something, and none of these tracks do. It’s just track after track of similarly arranged tunes, and no interesting flow at all.

Even more damning is the fact the final stretch suffers from ‘too-many-breakdowns’ syndrome. This isn’t an energetic set to begin with, so you’d think excessive breakdowns wouldn’t be a problem. Yet by the time Markus’ own First Time hits, it’s become annoyingly predictable. A couple of interesting sounds will briefly draw your attention (Sassot’s Where It All Began probably the best of the lot), but most of it will fade from your memory by the end. Altogether, not a remarkable finish.

It is quite clear Markus has shifted his musical focus, as much of his old sound is absent. While I respect his decision to change, he could have chosen something better than what we have here. Instead of a unique, if simple, form of prog, Schulz seems to have been converted to the Armada trance sound, and most of Ibiza ‘06 follows their manifesto: airy, melodic trance without an original idea in it that hasn’t been aped from the year 2001. In this regard, Markus just sounds like a slightly slowed-down mellow Armin, which isn’t going to do him any favors if he wants to make a bigger name for himself.

Ultimately, there’s very little on Ibiza ‘06 that distinguishes Schulz from the Armada pack. There’s a bit more emphasis on groove and atmosphere, but it’s still Armin’s style of trance, which has been stale for ages. Markus doesn’t bring anything new to the table here, and if he continues down this road, he’s going to be stuck in van Buuren’s shadow for a long time to come.

Del Tha Funkee Homosapien - I Wish My Brother George Was Here

Elektra: 1991

As I continue to wait for that new Deltron album to finally drop (so... bloody... long...), it seems appropriate that I now find myself returning to Del's debut album, I Wish My Brother George Was Here (a reference to Liberace, though the point of using it I haven't a clue). All things considered, it's a surprising album to have come out in the year 1991. Gangsta rap was huge (pop rap even huger, but like hell Del would do that), so not following in his cousin's footsteps in that field probably wasn't the best option if he aimed at making a large career for himself. Then again, the issues Ice Cube often dealt with were worlds apart from the life Del was familiar with, and if there's anything Tha Funkee Homosapien prides himself on, it's sincerity of content. Either that, or he just preferred looking on the lighter side of life.

But that was for the future. At the time, ol' Cube, already sitting high in the hip-hop pantheon, was more than helpful in giving Del a running start, producing and supplying dialog (mostly banter via gangsta counterpoints) throughout this album. And just as with Death Certificate, the George Clinton and Parliament Funk influences are heavy on here (say, maybe Del and Cube are claiming Clinton's their musical brother-in-arms! ...or something). In fact, it utterly dominates Brother George right from the start. They aren't just raiding the past for samples, they're aiming for recreation of Funkadelic in the early '90s (by, um, sampling a whole bunch of George Clinton and the like). Party rap, then? I guess so, as cuts like Mr. Dobalina, Dr. Bombay, What Is A Booty, and Ahonetwo, Ahonetwo definitely encourage hand wavin' and booty shakin' galore.

Despite using beats that, ultimately, didn't require much lyricism more poignant than “Throw your hands in the air, etc.”, Del wasn't about to sell his skills short. Still being a teenager though, he wasn’t too world-wise, so despite I Wish often getting lumped in the ‘conscious rap’ side of things, there aren’t many deep insights found within. Rather, trivial tales like chilling (Sunny Meadowz), tribulations of taking busses (The Wacky World Of Rapid Transit, a tune I get a kick out of since I rely on public transportation to get around Vancouver – though the events Del describes sounds more like a trip through Surrey), and frustration over lazy friends (Sleepin’ On My Couch) take up a good chunk of the album. Other times, he’s calling out all the poseurs and “fraudulent foes” in the rap game (Pissin’ On Your Steps, Same Ol’ Thing, Ya Lil’ Crumbsnatchers), a theme that he continues to this day, though obviously back then he had much easier targets to disassemble (Vanilla Ice is spared no mercy).

This is definitely a fun album to throw on, but not really a shining example of Del’s rapping skills. Despite the early lyrical potential, Brother George is better enjoyed for the beats oozing with the best of p-funk vibes.