Pink Floyd - Is There Anybody Out There? (The Wall Live 1980-81)

Columbia: 2000

The only rock opera you're supposed to have, even if you're not much of a rock opera fan. What about The Who's Tommy, you ask? Pft, that one never had tunes as wickedly catchy as Another Brick In The Wall, Pt. 2 or Young Lust, nor as emotionally evocative as Hey You and Comfortably Numb. That's four classic rock staples, not to mention a whole bunch more should the station get more adventurous (though you’ll never, ever hear Bring The Boys Back Home, I guarantee ...unless it’s a The Wall tribute).

Oh, you’ve noticed this isn’t The Wall, but a live recording of the same album. Heh, it’s a good album, but I can’t see anyone other than completists needing both. It’s essentially the same thing, only this one comes with crowd noises (pretty cool hearing a cheer when Waters asks whether “they’ll like this song” in Mother), extended versions of some songs (including the awesome What Shall We Do?, cut due to vinyl constraints; not sure why CD versions haven’t added it back in though), and the usual extra energy good live recordings always have. So one or the other, it probably doesn’t matter which you get, but here’s my case for getting the live version.

The whole concept Roger Waters had in mind for the piece was one of audience interaction; or rather, losing contact with the very audience that’d come to see Pink Floyd in concert. What better way to depict such an event than by building a literal wall between the band and crowd? Along the way, a whole narrative came about, mostly based on Waters’ life growing up and alienation with the rock lifestyle. While the specifics may differ, the idea of building emotional barriers in our life is easily identifiable, and it’s no surprise The Wall was as successful as it was as a body of music alone. Taking it to the spectacle of the stage, where Waters could engage in all sorts of call-and-response moments with the crowd, only enhances the concept. A song like Is There Anybody Out There? is a haunting piece on its own, but imagine standing in a darkened stadium with nothing but a faceless wall looming in front of you, the band all but gone from sight. Or being urged on by Waters to tear down the wall at the end, a cathartic release for anyone that suffered from such insular depression. Damn, wish I could have seen that back in the day, but I’d only taken one trip around the sun by that point.

Anyhow, when it came time to pick up The Wall (because it’s a rock opera album- never mind), I went with this live version – it seemed appropriate, given the emotional punch of many songs being intensified with audience interaction. Not as good as being there in person but it’ll do until Waters carts out another tour for it over here. He’s still spry enough to do it at, what, one hundred and three?

Wu-Tang Clan - Iron Flag

Loud Records: 2001

For a group that usually takes their time between albums, Iron Flag had a remarkable turnaround in the wake of The W, released a mere year after. As I recall, it wasn’t met with nearly the same amount of anticipation as their prior work, though the world did have quite a few other things on their mind late in 2001. Then again, general interest in the Wu-Tang Clan had dwindled, their inability to re-capture the same fire that marked all those ‘90s LPs creating talk of “they’ve fallen off” while fresh hip-hop acts took center stage. That they would feel compelled to quickly release an album called Iron Flag to silence the doubters and haters isn’t surprising, but it did little to stem the public apathy the group suffered from in those early ‘00s.

And yeah, I could be lumped in that group as well. It took me over a decade to finally return to this album, my initial impression from some shitty p2p leaked download (hey, I was flat broke at the time!) doing little to inspire much interest to hear Iron Flag proper-like. This, from a guy who just a year prior couldn't get enough of anything Wu affiliated. If someone in the swoon of their Wu-honeymoon had feelings of 'meh' over it, then good lord, this must be a mediocre album.

Nah, but it is uneventful, something that you could seldom say about any full-on Tang Consortium release. Aside from “yo, we're the Wu, and we're still New York, represent” (something like that), I haven't a clue what the theme of Iron Flag is. Maybe that's all it is, a no frills 'back to the streets' excursion for all the members. The beats are generally bare-bones (though no Hollow Bones), with a whole lotta' wikki-wikki’ from turntablists. Wait, who even is the Wu-Tang DJ? Did he do them, or are they studio add-ons? Ain't no info in the liner notes on that, but whatever, it's awesome. For all the musical innovation RZA’s accomplished over the years, it’s good to know he can make do with the core essentials of hip-hop too.

As for all these MCs, the Clan sounds more fired up than they did on The W. Uzi (Pinky Ring)’s about the closest they reach the highs of Triumph or Protect Ya Neck, but plenty of other tunes hold up well enough. Dashing’s reggae overtones are a nice change of pace from the usual funk and soul loops, Back In The Game brings in producer tandem Poke And Tone for a far different sounding minimalist Wu cut, and Rules shows they can still kick out a standard club-bounce jam when bothered to do so.

If you’re a fan of Wu-Tang Clan, it’s hard to hate anything off this album, as it finds the group hitting a familiar groove most of their work maintains. It’s not breaking ground, but if you’re fine with them no longer bringing the mutha’ fucking ruckus, Iron Flag is worth having.

Menno de Jong - Intuition Sessions Volume 1: South Africa (Original TC Review)

Intuition Recordings: 2007

(2013 Update:
So much for being the "future of trance". Ol' Menno doesn't even rank in the very poll promoted by the magazine that gave him such accolades way back when this came out. Then again, judging by this year's results, trance itself doesn't have much of a future, at least in the commercial sense it did for so many years. Boy, did a lot of them tank. No, don't check for yourself, you can take my word for it. Still, you know what this means: underground resurgence, woo! One can only hope.

Listening back on this CD, I can hear why some of the newer cats on the trance scene would rank a year that had such utter tripe as Filo & Perio's Anthem so highly, as there are some lovely tunes on here. Hell, I didn't even give Orkidea's Eternal Love an ACE TRACK nod, when it so totally deserves it. If CDs such as this had been their main exposure to the genre, then the kids, they were in alright hands in 2007.)

IN BRIEF: A 'nice' trance set!

Menno de Jong was mostly known only to the ardent fans of a decaying trance scene. A member of the new Dutch generation whom appear primed to take over where the likes of Tiësto and Armin left off, his style wasn’t particularly innovative but consistently solid. Along with producers like Jonas Steur and Paul Moelands, his fame would probably have never reached further than those still living in the year 2001.

In a flash though, Menno became known to far more folks than he could have anticipated this early in his career. Was it that write-up in DJ Mag proclaiming him to be “the future of trance”? Hardly. Rather, it was that picture. Captured at a show where things weren’t exactly going well, it caught the trance DJ in a moment of pure rage, flipping the bird at a bird whom was trying to get him to shut things down early. Menno’s since apologized for the incident, but why? It’s got to be one of the best DJ pictures I’ve ever seen! “Fuck shutting this party down, I’m going to fucking rock this motherfucker!” Well, it's better than yet another Jesus pose in any event.

Still, I can understand his hesitation to be tied to such a photo. This isn’t, say, the drum’n’bass scene, where attitude is just as valuable as the music you play. Besides, Menno has larger plans for his future than to be known as The Punk Trance DJ (not that it’s a bad title, Mr. de Jong!), one of which is to own a successful label. He’s certainly taken the right steps thus far to achieve this goal, as Intuition Recordings has seen a small but respectable number of trance singles released. With Intuition Sessions, Menno has taken the next step: the label compilation.

Much of what you see on disc one’s tracklist is new to this release, as Menno got in touch with a bunch of his trance buddies and asked them to spot him some fresh material for a DJ mix. In return, they’d get their singles released on his label as vinyl samplers. Certainly not an uncommon practice in this industry, but all too often this leads to very bland sets. Far too much emphasis is placed on making the forthcoming singles the highlights, even when the actual tracks themselves aren’t always worthy of such. The rest of the set is then padded out with filler and the odd well-known hit that’s been making the rounds to grab casual interest. Just glancing at the tracklist seems to hint at this being the case with Intuition Sessions as well. Remarkably though, Menno managed to elude this trap and crafted a decent mix in the process.

What aids him here is the fact these tracks are quite good. While this is still mostly melodic trance that hasn’t seen much innovation in years, the stuff on here isn’t the kind of tripe that is drowned in overproduction or sentimental sap; these producers keep arrangements simple and the hooks agreeable. Listening through, I’m hard pressed to find any particular tune sub-par. Honestly, the worst thing I can think to call the weaker ones is ‘nice’. Granted, a couple spots are questionable: the vocal in Cliff Coenraad’s Manjula is useless, and First State’s Evergreen contains an orchestral breakdown that teeters ever so dangerously close to gushing parody. However, they hardly hinder from the rest.

And of the rest? Quite a bit of variety, actually. Of course, you do have typical melodic numbers scattered about, some more on an Ibizan tip (El Cortez’ Desert Rose), others following the standard breakdown/build mold (Menno’s offerings, along with Kimoto Lopez’ Sub Runner and Yarune’s Airballoon). Elsewhere (mostly in the beginning), you get groovey spacers that are quite literally trance-inducing (Coenraad’s Escalate - under the Mulika alias - being a clear highlight). And at various points, techy hitters add some spice to the proceedings: Sjamaan (Menno as Myth) comes through on this, although Maor Levi (as MLV) holds his own as well.

Towards the end of the set, Menno brings in some heavier bangers, and ends on something of a surprise: melodic acid trance. Actually, Whirloop’s Cirrus Station could almost be considered the 'g-worded' sub-genre of psy trance, but I’m afraid to actually call it that, lest I frighten that lovely old style back into the nether regions of the underground again. It’s a sweet tune though, and a wonderful (and proper!) way to close a set on.

It’s a bloody shame Menno didn’t try to make more use of it. Yes, I do realize most of the guys that contributed here don’t produce in that style, but it would have made a good trance set even better. In fact, this is possibly one of the better trance sets I’ve heard in a while now, and certainly far better than what’s come from the superstars clogging up the top of popularity polls (Christopher Lawrence exempt, as always). If there’s any complaint, it’s that there’s a stretch in the middle where the breakdowns grow redundant, but even my calling it ‘redundant’ is small praise in itself - usually words like ‘annoying’ or ‘momentum-killing’ are featured in such instances.

Included with this release is a bonus disc containing four of Intuition’s early singles. Many of these you’ve probably heard in various sets since their initial release. Without getting too detailed, it’s nice to hear these in an unmixed version on CD for the first time, as these were enjoyable cuts to begin with. And Airbase’s For The Fallen remains a standout, in that it’s such a rarity: a breaks tune made by a trance producer that’s actually great!

While Intuition Sessions probably won’t light the trance world on fire, it is nonetheless solid. Menno has provided a release that makes good use of the melodic sound without abusing all the traits that turned the genre into a punchline, all the while adding just enough variety so it doesn’t sound like you’re listening to the same bloody thing over and over. While I don’t quite agree with DJ Mag’s assessment this is the future of trance, he has at least shown the potential to bring the genre some credibility again.

L.S.G. - Into Deep (Original TC Review)

Superstition: 1999

(2013 Update:
Woot! And finally, I now have a review of every single L.S.G. album on this blog. Except Best Of. And Unreleased. Hm, and that Hooj Choons Collected Works too. Okay, every official LP of L.S.G., and no, Unreleased is still sort-of un-official, at least to me. Give us a proper hard-copy version, Mr. Lieb, and then we'll talk.

I'm probably a little gushy in this review, but dammit, Into Deep just doesn't get the love it deserves. What does it take, huh?)

IN BRIEF: His best.

And then Oliver Lieb peaked.

Oh, I’m sure many out there could point to several different singles across several different aliases that are better than anything on here but in terms of full-length albums, the veteran trance producer has never been better than he was on Into Deep. It seemed, having purged any and all instinctive id with The Black Album, Lieb felt free to explore his meditative ego in this follow-up - it’s the logical musical yin to the previous yang. Or he’d been working on this material alongside the Black Series but never found a proper time and place to release it until after the fact. Who’s to say at this late stage?

Point of the matter is despite the release of Into Deep making artistic sense, it was nonetheless unexpected to hear the L.S.G. moniker taken down this road (though perhaps not nearly as shocking as The Black Album was). This is, after all, the alias of such classic trance cuts like Netherworld, Hearts, and Hidden Sun Of Venus (the trance version). Didn’t Lieb already have an alias for his downtempo stuff? (kinda, but who remembers ‘O.Lieb’?)

The thing that truly was astounding about Into Deep was in how, upon hearing it, folks’ perspective of Lieb changed. He’d garnered plenty of praise for years, yet could never quite shake the stigma of being regarded as “that really good trance producer”. Though many figured he was capable of it, no one really thought he’d actually go and make an album that could be held in the same regard as any of the best efforts from such ‘90s luminaries as The Future Sound Of London, The Orb, or Massive Attack. Yet he did.

For starters, this is one of the few instances you’ll find original lyrics of any sort on an Oliver Lieb album, here provided by one Cybéle de Silveria. Whether it’s to digitally-treated spoken dialog - Spanish for No Causalidad and El Tiburon, and English for Give Me Your Hand - or verses (I’m Not Existing), it adds a fresh angle to the L.S.G. moniker, bringing a proper human element to a project that was already well known for strong emotional music.

And it almost goes without saying, but the emotional punch of this album is of the highest quality. You have tender synthy soundscapes in Jillanity, Into Deep, and Give Me Your Hand; deeply meditative atmospherics in Concatenation, Tiburon Citriño, Quick Star, and I’m Not Existing; and riveting climaxes with El Tiburon, Phorus, and Westside. We’ve heard Lieb strike gold in this field several times, yet seldom with the same level of poignancy as he does here. The whole album ebbs and flows with these moving passages as only the greatest chill releases have. Remarkably, Lieb manages to blend the best of both electronic and organic textures together so they wonderfully complement each other, never compete. In almost all cases, producers have a difficult time accomplishing this, often letting either or overtake in prominence. The closest I’ve heard in recent years that hits this delicate balance comes from the Ultimae camps, but even they have a tendency to let the organic nature of their music take over. Into Deep amazingly stands tall and alone in how it sounds.

All this, and I still haven’t even gotten started on the rhythms. My God, the rhythms! Lieb’s always been excellent in this department but, again, he’d generally been constrained to the techno-trance side of things with tantalizing teases into other beats – breaks in Get Out from Volume Two, for instance, or something experimental like Fontana on Rendezvous In Outer Space and A Day On Our Planet as Spicelab. In producing a purposefully downtempo album, Lieb got to indulge himself with fresh patterns, time signatures, and effects, once again with remarkably stunning results. From steady heartbeat throbs that either pulse (Quick Star) or rumble (Phorus) to layered builds (El Tiburon and the dubbier Bengal Rose), Lieb gives us plenty of wonderful patterns that are just as effective in tapping into the primal recesses of your brain as anything else he’s done.

The two real highlights, though, have to be I’m Not Existing and Westside. The former, having been segued beautifully from the spacey tension-builder that is Quick Star, brings us some of Lieb’s grittiest beats ever, executed with trip-hop proficiency and supported by a disconcerting melody that would have Tricky approvingly bobbing his head along. Meanwhile, Westside, in being the album closer, opts for the pure positive vibe of communal chant, inviting you to clap in unison as the song plays out.

Into Deep is one of those rare albums that tends to occur only once in an artist’s career, if at all; where a musician will tap into the best of their inspiration and execute it with all the experience of a cagey veteran. Though Oliver Lieb successfully carried on, it was never to heights of what was offered here. Even the Best Of album, where he reworked a bunch of L.S.G. singles in the vein of Into Deep, wasn’t quite as good, as it lacked this album’s sublime narrative flow.

Despite bestowing this much praise on Lieb’s masterwork, there’s probably still a number of skeptics out there; after all, Into Deep is seldom namedropped when discussions of Best Electronic Chill Releases are brought up. I honestly don’t have an answer for this. Perhaps the trance association really was too much for folks unfamiliar with Lieb’s work to get over. Whatever the reason though, it’s their loss. Don’t let it be yours too.

Solieb - Integrale / Inside

Maschine: 2006

Solieb is Oliver Lieb, a not so important person in the world of techno, even though by all rights he should- Eh? You say this is redundant information? Well, sure, I did a Solieb review half a month ago, but did you read it? No, not you, the other you, standing behind you, creeping, stalking, waiting for that perfect moment to whap you with a comedy inflatable mallet that squeaks upon impact. What do you mean that's bizarrely specific? Look, until you turn around, can you claim this person in a clown-ninja outfit isn't there? I realize this is one of those 'fallen tree, can anyone hear?' questions, but if you don't look behind, you can't disprove any more reliably than I can prove. And surely you're here at this blog because you trust me on something; most likely opinions on electronic (plus other) music, but still.

Anyhow, here's the gist of this release for all the cyborg-ninja-clowns that have joined us in the past couple weeks. Solieb is Oliver Lieb, a not so important person in the world techno, even though by all rights he should be. Dude’s been a part of the German club culture since even before the Berlin Wall came down, and was highly instrumental in helping establish the burgeoning Harthouse label. Yet, he didn’t quite mesh with Sven Väth’s outlook. One kept looking to the stars, the other kept having weird parties in Frankfurt basements. And besides, all that spacey sci-fi techno wasn’t going to fly in the ‘techno are serious’ scenes. So off on the Starship L.S.G. ol’ Oliver flew away on for a while, reaching stars he’d seldom seen in that old lab filled with spices (Väth was into some weird things). After returning to Earth, however, his re-entry had some complications, and the Starship L.S.G. crashed and burned after a glorious ten years of service. Somehow, Captain Ollie ended up near his old Harthouse haunt and, reminded of the wacky-doo times his former compatriot Väth would get up in, made a new track called Circus Maximus. But... the old bitter resentment persisted so, so to make sure no one knew who was behind the track, Mr. Lieb crafted a new alias to hide behind, that no one could trace back to him. The new alias was Solieb. Uh... did I mention ol’ Oliver wasn’t the most creative chap in those regards?

Okay, enough made-up silliness (been whapped upside the head by inflatable comedy mallets too much, methinks). How is this particular Solieb single? The A-Side features Integrale, which I recall being my first exposure to Lieb’s new stuff, appearing on Jimmy Van M’s Balance mix. For plinky-plonk minimal, it’s alright, certainly better than a lot of other stuff that was to follow. Inside on the B-Side is more fun, a skippity-skip marching rhythm and machine-lovin’ electro-clop sounds. It might even make sense in one of Väth’s sets from around the time. Say, an olive branch from Oliver Lieb? New alias alert!

Faithless - Insomnia

Blow Up: 1995

There has to be a zillion versions of this single out there (“Sixty-one,” gruffs Discogs. “Get your facts straight.”), with just as many remixes. The one I have in my possession is among the earlier copies, though not the earliest. No, those ones have the smiling Cheeky boy mascot on their covers, released at a time when the notion of Faithless as some sort of super-group was nowhere near folks' minds. Then, of course, everyone heard Insomnia (no, not hyperbole – everyone did, whether you liked it or not), and lo', Faithless was off and running. However, that old cover just would’t do, far too tacky for one of the biggest club singles ever. Quick, what’s available as a replacement? A group shot? Fine, perfect, whatever, it’ll do, just go, go! Get that tune in the stores pronto. And start figuring out something better for later. It must be far more eye-grabbing than the group standing around laughing. Something artful, and reminiscent of the forthcoming album, yes?

As someone residing in North America, it feels odd having this ‘middle version’. We got Insomnia two bloody years after it first hit the streets, which is understandable to a degree. Faithless’ shtick was unlike anything marketable in the big U.S. of A. Heck, they were still trying to figure out groups like Chemical Brothers and Prodigy, and now here’s something that has elements of that cheesy euro dance stuff, yet is stupidly popular and somehow seen as artistically credible. What is it, those barely sung lyrics from Maxi Jazz about suffering from insomnia?

Yeah, funny thing about those lyrics. You can take them at face value, about a poor chap who just can’t get no sleep, but gander at this theory: how many of you out there have had a night of partying or clubbing where, at some point, you’ve consumed a substance that was just a bit too stimulating. Woo, that rush was fun, but fun-time’s over and you’re feeling kinda tired now. Off to home, get some sleep, recharge, recoup, twist, turn, what the Hell, why can’t I fall asleep? It’s been hours, there’s daylight, twist, turn, and still nothing. Good Lord, what was in those things? Am I ever gonna sleep again? This is ridiculous! Wait, did I just fall asleep now, only to pop awake scant minutes later? I’m… not sure. Greasy insomnia, please release me!

I’m not saying Insmonia is an ode to all those poor clubbers who took too many stimulants, but that, coupled with that oh-so memorable anthem hook at the peak of the tune, definitely made it a club classic that Faithless seldom ever topped in their following career. Not bad for a tune that, fundamentally, could be called ‘epic garage’.

Oh, this CD? It’s got all the ‘first generation’ mixes on it (Moody, Tuff, Original, CEC, and Monster mixes), though the Monster Mix is edited. Only thing unique about it is the cover. Guess that’s why I was sucker enough to snag it.

Various - Influence 2.2: A Hardtrance Experience (2013 Update)

Hypnotic: 1995

(Click here to have your eyes glaze over attempting to read my stupid long original review.)


No, really, what in God’s green and blue Earth was I thinking in writing such a ridiculously bloated review for Influence 2.2? I spend over 200 words detailing some tracks, and Argon-X’s Little Gamma’s Adventure gets a whopping 300 words. While some of them do hold up as good examples of classic mid-‘90s hard trance, they were by no means super-ultra-mega classics or anything. And Hell, it sure wasn’t like I wasn’t cutting a few corners with other reviews at the time, seeking brevity on some of the more repetitive CDs I’d be handed.

Right, right. I’m a big sucker for most things Music Research related. And, I suppose in my enthusiasm to share my thoughts on more music from the label, I went totally and utterly overboard on this one. Thing to remember is, in 2005, there weren’t many handy options for sharing audio, at least by any grey-legal means. TranceCritic was more than happy to provide Amazon links to these CDs, and if they just happened to have a thirty-second clip of it, all the better. But as we were trying to be something of a legitimate website, hot-linking to file-sharing services was totally out of the question, to say nothing of uploading such tunes ourselves (oh hello, you be shut down now). These days, it’s no th’ang to give a [Spotify] link – in fact, there's [the entire CD] for you down below right now. There, done, no three-hundred bloody words to let you know how it sounds; just my thumbs up required.

[edit: this whole section is clearly no longer valid, after Spotify became available in Canada, but here it is for posterity sake]
[edit2: Deezer as well, but I'm too lazy updating the link here]
This is why I [didn’t] bother uploading any audio to this here blog. Finding music online is ridiculously easy, a simple “_______ YouTube” search inquiry in your little Google bar all that’s required. If folks want to hear music for themselves, it’s not hard. Still, and call me a curmudgeon traditionalist on this, I believe there remains some value in the hunt for music, a certain satisfaction attained when that search turns out results. Don’t want to make things too easy for the kids these days.

So where does this leave us with Influence 2.2? Kind of forgotten and redundant, now that I think about it. The best tracks off here are worth having, for certain, but they’re coupled with some totally forgettable stuff too. Another benefit of modern music gathering compared to years ago is not having to get a whole CD for a few choice cuts, and believe you me Little Gamma’s Adventure, Influid’s We’re Always Behind You, and Phoenixx’s The Mongolian Rider are worth the pennies it takes to buy an MP3 these days. Maybe Retroflex’s Family Nightmare too, for the silliness of it all (woo epic gabber trance!). Of course, if you’re just some sort of crazy CD collector (*cough*), you’re gonna have to settle for Influence 2.2 because, believe it or not, this is one of the only places you’ll find Argon-X's cut (so sayeth The Discogs). Hey, maybe its rarity makes that old ginormous review worth- pft, nah!

Various - Influence 1.1: A Hardtrance Experience (Original TC Review)

Cleopatra: 1994

(2013 Update:
This was something of a turning point review for yours truly, in that I figured out how to detail a whole pile of music without resorting to the ol' track-by-track method. It wasn't the first time I did it, mind, nor would I totally shake the habit for a number of months later, but at least the result here was far more concise and easier to read. I really could write an informative review under 1,000 words! When you compare it to the hideous bloat I wrote about the other Influence Records compilations, it's night and day in quality.

Kinda crazy to consider most of the music here's now twenty years old. I wonder if it's the same feeling our parents had when they realized their hard 'dance' music (metal! punk!) had reached the two-decade mark. Does this mean we should be on the lookout for hard acid trance's version of Green Day soon?)


IN BRIEF: The start of Influence.

(2013 Edit: removed a pair of paragraphs that are no longer relevant)

So. Influence Records. The beginning. The was yet another of the many sub-labels of Talla 2XLC’s Music Research label. The main goal of this one was to provide an output for the burgeoning hard techno and trance sound spawned from the earliest hardcore days, a grittier edge to satisfy those growing tired of the goofier slant hardcore was being infected with. With Music Research’s goth and industrial background handy (sub-label Zoth Ommog), it was a tidy little marriage for a while.

Mind, it wasn’t all hard music in the early 90s. Influence also did some traditional trancers (traditional as in loopy, hypnotic stuff, kids), although most of which didn’t garner as much notice as the aggressive material. This compilation gives us a tantalizing taste of Influence’s various sounds from ‘92-‘94, all arranged in a decent little narrative to keep the diversity fresh (Cleopatra/Hypnotic were always great at this facet of their compilations).

Since the hard techno was the initial Influence output, let’s take a look at those tracks first, starting with the debut Influence release, Swamp from Influid. It’s grimy, abrasive, and noisy, with distorted, out-of-tune synths forming what could be construed as a hook. It ain’t pretty, but then what swamp is? Besides, Influid keeps the noises constantly shifting and tweaked with effects, a pretty nifty trick for hard techno in ‘92, though perhaps a bit dated today.

The track by Distortion is pretty similar in this regard, and you can definitely pick out the beginnings of full-out hardcore in Milk; although cruising along at a decent pace, the drum kicks are thick with resonance. When the song allows just the rhythm to get funky, their pummeling power is potent. Full Spectrum by Probe is effective with its aggressive rhythms as well, their rapid pace complementing the choking, mechanical soundscapes to be had within the track. The Postman’s Elysium plays ‘nice’ though, giving us a distorted hook for us to get into while his rhythms thrash away.

When not relying on abrasive noises, some Influence tracks went with the always reliable acid tweakage. Pain from Vene has some big hardcore beats, but the acid workout to be had eats the best offerings from Hardfloor any day. The amusingly titled track from Marble Cybos lays the acid on fiercer, although an accompanying ominous hook and dodgy quality of the track kind of dilutes its effect. For some reason, Fucked By A Vibrator sounds horribly flat. Did someone forget to master it, or was this just a crummy transfer? Who knows at this point.

As for the trancers, there are two types to be found on this compilation: spacey, minimal loop-fests, and brisk, upbeat melodic numbers. The latter are both produced by Reel X, and quite the classics as far as German trance is concerned. As for the former, the two cuts form Norman Fellar (as Phasis and with DJ Ufuk as Surface) have his stamp all over them: they both start out fairly unassuming with loops that don’t sound like much. However, as these tracks progress, the layers of loops that come and go draw you in regardless. The foreboding atmosphere of them in particular should be a nice bonus for those who like their trance sinister.

The two remaining tracks I’ve yet to mention, Unit 99 and Lighten Up, are also of the typical trance variety, and are probably some of my favorites from this time. Yeah, yeah, I’m always going on about how great trance was before the supersaws, breakdowns, plinky pianos, and so on, but when you listen to these two, their simplicity in sound truly is far more hypnotic. Gradual subtlety, spacey pads, and slight hooks: what more can an old trance fan ask for?

Well, consistent quality on a compilation I suppose. Despite the diversity on Influence 1.1, it really is all over the map with the types of music you hear. You’ll be cruising along nicely to a mellow trancer, only to be thrust into a distorted assault of techno without warning. Also, a number of these tracks really are starting to show their age, and their effectiveness as dancefloor weapons are probably going to have to rely more on nostalgia when played against current offerings of hard techno.

Still, as an archive of where this music stood in its beginnings, Influence 1.1 can be quite the fascinating listening experience. Times may have moved on, but it’s still fun to indulge in the past every so often.

Nirvana - In Utero

DGC: 1993

Isn’t this a nice coincidence, what with all the 20th anniversary versions of Nirvana’s third and final album floating about now? I get to enjoy being on the pulse of contemporary-retro music discussion and- oh, everyone’s already moved on from In Utero’s re-re-release (start saving for the 25th anniversary version now, kids!). In fact, it’s growing rather tiresome to hear the same ‘Nirvana changed a generation of music’ narrative trumped out every opportunity the rock media gets some loosely connected release to tie it into. I get it, Nirvana was a very important band in the world of rock, but we all know, had they (re: Kurt Cobain) kept their shit together, they’d just end up like the Foo Fighters or whatever other post-grunge act you have. Or worse, attempting nu-metal! No, not really. Ol’ Kurt would never have succumbed to that. Guy was a rocker through-and-through, but was totally caught between worlds following Nevermind. Do you maintain that slick studio polish that won you a gajillion fans, or do you prove you still have your underground roots within, untainted by money and fame.

Both, it would seem! Bringing in “I’m real punk” producer Steve Albani is as clear of intent as it gets, coercing as much raw, honest emotion from their music as they could. If you ignore the band’s legacy (hard, I know), it left an album that leaves most listeners divided, as it did way back in ’93. Between the obvious ‘grunge by numbers’ cuts like Rape Me, Dumb, and Frances Farmer Will Have Her Revenge On Seattle, you’re also assaulted by pure noise freakouts like Scentless Apprentice, Radio Friendly Unit Shifter, and Tourette’s. Oh, and an acoustic number at the end called All Apologies, that gained quite a bit of notoriety following Kurt’s death (was he directly apologizing to us for what was to come?). Well Hell, that’s a frustrating album to get into if you only came expecting a bunch more Heart Shaped Boxes. Or the most awesome album if you feared it’d just be a bunch more Heart Shaped Boxes. Those people tend to get divided between Nevermind or Bleach, respectively, being the true authentic Nirvana experience.

Which leaves In Utero in limbo, an album that, aside from the big hits, disappointed when it first came out. Now it’s hailed as a neglected classic, because that’s just what you do with final albums that capture a band at the height of their fame. I personally get a kick out of it, probably more the noisey thrash numbers since it’s easier to feel angry than mopey these days. Ultimately though, what we’re getting with this album is blues music for the pissed-off Gen-X crowd, which is how it’s endured when so much other grunge music hasn’t (much less get multiple anniversary re-issues). When it comes to the blues, authenticity of emotion is always key, and there were few people who came across as depressed and angry as Kurt Cobain did when this came out.

Colette - In The Sun

Afterhours: 2000

Now here’s a gal with an interesting career. Blessed with the looks you’d associate with euro-dance pop tarts, Ms. Colette Marino instead carved out a career in the relatively underground side of house music. She initially made her mark through the DJ circuit, but would often sing her own vocals over top tracks, helping her stand out from an already overstuffed DJ market (that whole ‘being a woman’ thing probably didn’t hurt either). She produced a few tracks for various labels in her early career, and OM Records eventually gave her an opportunity to let her singing and song-writing take front-and-center, releasing a pair of albums to mild success within the deep house scene. They were rather poppy, true, but a lot of that West Coast bumpin' vibe already skewed that way, ties to disco and funk of yesteryear undeniable. They weren’t crossover attempts (though if it had happened, I doubt anyone would complain), but simply enjoyable moments of clubbing fluff the house faithful could get down to. Y'know, Hed Kandi fodder.

Given the general reactions some scenes have towards their lady DJs indulging in their pop potential, it's a testament to the classiness of house-heads that they never turned their backs on Colette (like, say, the jungle scene did to DJ Rap). It certainly helps she earned more than enough respect at the turn of the century with her DJing, honoring the deep, soulful vibes inherent to Chicago's legacy in her chosen style. This here In The Sun, released on near-Chicago label Aftermath, is as fine a representation of her talents as any.

Right, so coming off that DJ Dan mix CD, she isn't quite that good. Occasional forced mixes do crop up, but I can live with them so long as the shoes are kept out of the dryer. If you think it unfair of me to compare the two, it’s not my fault that this disc features music of pretty much the same vein. And hey, what are the odds we’d get another mix of loopy, filtered disco house one after the other in this alphabetical stipulation of mine? Okay, so it could happen if it was a running series, or both happened to be named after the similarity of genre, but that’s not the case here. In The Sun and In Stereo are two totally different releases on two totally different labels by two totally different DJs of two totally different sexes. Released but a year from each other, and just happens to have very similar taste in music. THE ODDS!!

Colette’s take on this sound is definitely more Chicago-based though, so the disco gets dubby for durations while those filter knobs get their tweak on. One of the few things that helps In The Sun stand out from all the other disco-dub house mixes of the time is the inclusion of a Sombionx’s jazzstep remix of Colette’s own Try Her For Love. Ending your set in such an unexpected fashion? That takes some balls, woman!