Various - Dark Prog

(~): 2002

Since I'm doing yet another alphabetical backtrack, I may as well also touch upon a couple burned CDs I listened to but didn't bother writing reviews for because, eh, why would I? Who'd care about collections of music that I have nowhere else, uniquely arranged nowhere else, with custom covers you'll find nowhere else? Well, okay, the only reason I didn't before was because I didn't think I'd be able to put those covers up, but now that I've invested in a scanner, you get to see all my rank-amateur mix CD artistic creativity. The music on these is worth talking about though, so here we go.

Like dark prog. Not really a specific sub-genre of any kind, but all I have to mention is “that 2002 Digweed sound”, and any follower of progressive house will know exactly what I'm talking about. As trance kept getting more overblown on one side of the club, DJs and producers looking to maintain a level of credibility would jump on anything that sounded deep, dubby, tribal... dark. 2002 was probably its peak before prog went twinklier (the Schulz sound) or was nearly abandoned altogether in favour of tech-house proper.

The tunes I gathered up for this CD were ones plucked from old P2P programs, based on recommendations in Muzik Magazine's reviews section (truthfully, that's how I made nearly every burned CD back in the day). After noticing quite a bit of 'dark prog' in a recent download session, I decided making a full CD out of the stuff was appropriate. You’ll never find an official tracklist for Dark Prog, so here's a quick rundown of the tunes I used.

Trancesetter's The Saga opens things up, which with quite the powerful hook introduced midway through, doesn't really fit with the deep, dark, dubby theme I wanted; on the other hand, it's one banger of a tune to start a disc on! Following that is Tilt’s Headstrong, specifically the Relentless Vocal Mix with spacey lyrics from Maria Nayler. Yeah, that’s the deep, chugging sound of 2002 prog for ya’ ...but still a little accessible what with singing and a subtle hook in there. What’s so dark about this?

“Fine,” 2002 Sykonee says to my future self, “you want the darkness, you got it.” Slide (of ‘Cass &’ fame) vs Healey’s Fear. Hamel & Blackwatch’s Discotek. Innate’s Roots Rock... oh man, that’s some good dark, dubby prog, mang. No, wait, Sworn’s Dark Amendments (Detract Dub), that’s the shit! (psst, it’s Andy Moor)

Dark prog could also get pretty tedious though, as evidenced by the last two tracks, both drab sludges clocking over eleven minutes each. Of course, I included the Sorrento Terrace Mix of Headstrong as a quirky counterpoint to the earlier mix, but DJ Gogo’s Sayna doesn’t even have that going for it. Only reason I did include it was my obsessive need to use everything I downloaded. It made for some weird compilations down the road, believe you me.

Public Enemy - Apocalypse 91 ...The Enemy Strikes Black

Def Jam Recordings: 1991

Here’s a controversial thought: as awesome as The Bomb Squad were in producing Public Enemy’s first few albums, there were growing too esoteric for the hip-hop community. Cool, you guys can cram a whole bunch of sounds and samples into your tracks, creating works of music like dense collages, but dammit, the rest of Public Enemy’s getting lost in the shuffle in doing so. Just as well, then, that they’d step back from the studio following the copyright clampdown on sampling, donning an executive producer’s role for this here Apocalypse 91 album. If they can’t play with all the toys, then they ain’t gonna play with them at all …well, much anyway.

Replacing them for main beatsmith duties are Imperial Grand Ministers Of Funk. And straight up, the funk be back up in this trunk, booyeee! Oh, damn, I’ve been hearing too much Flavor Flav lately. Sorry about that. Seriously though, it’s great to hear beats that come fast and hard, but with plenty of bounce in them. Since raiding tons of samples to keep your attention just wasn’t allowed anymore, the music’s gotten simpler for the most part, relying on infectious funk and soul loops complementing rhythms that bang. Here’s another controversial thought: I like the production on Apocalypse 91 more than the lauded Fear Of A Black Planet and It Takes A Nation Of Millions To Hold Us Back. Not to take anything away from The Bomb Squad, and their touch still remains throughout this album, but if I’m reaching for a Public Enemy LP that’ll hit me with beats my EDM-tastes lean towards, this is the one that makes the cut for sure.

It also helps that Chuck D, Terminator X, and even Flavor Flav are hitting their respective peaks too. If Fear Of A Black Planet had them stepping back as The Bomb Squad took the spotlight, the three main stage players don’t hold anything back on Apocalypse 91. Chuck D’s as fiery as he’s ever been, going after targets ranging from political, corporate, and even criminal. Public Enemy’s often been called ‘militant’, their music the sort of rhetoric that’ll rouse the rabble, but Chuck D’s more focused in his attacks this time out, giving specific targets and even solutions when he can (quit all that boozing in 1 Million Bottlebags). And damn, here’s a third controversial thought: Flavor Flav’s gotten good on the mic. When did he find the time for that? He’s always been obligated one or two cuts to himself on Public Enemy’s albums, and they were guaranteed the weakest tracks. He still isn’t anywhere near Chuck D’s level, but I Don’t Wanna Be Called Yo Niga and A Letter To The New York Post are pretty strong showings from the comedy sidekick.

Apocalypse 91 may not receive the same level of plaudits as their prior albums, but it easily ranks high among hip-hop albums from an era filled with classics. This is Public Enemy with nothing left to prove and firing on all cylinders.

The KLF - Justified & Ancient

Arista: 1991/1992

I never really liked Justified & Ancient in its White Room incarnation. Despite a decent number to end the album on, it held none of the thrill Side A was stuffed with, and little to look forward to after the mostly bland slog of Side B. Of course, I had no bloody idea that the proper single of this tune was totally different until much, much later, but after learning such third-hand, I'd never find it, forever lost to the dustbins of time where- oh, there it is in a used shop. That settles that, I guess.

The evolution of Justified & Ancient is probably more interesting than anything I can say about the music itself. Already a running theme within Jimmy Cauty and Bill Drummond’s discography (popping up as early as the track Hey Hey We Are Not The Monkees in the album 1987 What The Fuck’s Going?, under the earlier The Justified Ancients Of Mu Mu guise ...whew, what a wordfull), it seems appropriate this would end up their final single before calling it quits in the music business altogether.

Ironically, part of their retirement was due to the success of this single, specifically revitalizing Tammy Wynette’s career after she provided vocals for the new Stand By The JAMS mix. Suddenly The KLF were getting requests from a slew of has-been musicians looking for the Timelords bump. Well gee, can’t go becoming a part of the system they’d worked so hard to subvert, so screw you Music Industry, we’re done.

Included in this single is the ‘original’ White Room version, which I’ve warmed to since those blinkered early teen years of mine. Plus, in case you’re one of those ‘progressive house’ DJs needing an instrumental tool, there’s the Let Them Eat Ice Cream mix.

Really though, we’re all here for the upbeat UK acid house, chart topping romp of Stand By The JAMS. It’s got Tammy Wynette bellowing out the verses (apparently time-stretched at points as she was unable to sing in time to the backing tracks – darn country singers and always getting their way with session musicians conforming to their needs), a bouncy rhythm that was quite popular with cross-over house music in the Isle O’ Brits, cheers, chants, raps, guitars, daft lyrics (no, really, what’s with the ice cream van?) and all the uplifting anthem choruses you can sing along to (and wonder just how sincere The KLF were being with them). Oddly, there’s also an All Bound For Mu Mu Land version, which has frequent KLF vocal contributor Maxine Harvey taking on full vocal duties (she also provided the choruses of the Tammy Wynette version). Was this recorded prior to Cauty and Drummond knowing they’d get the First Lady Of Country in the studio, or after when their session didn’t turn out as they’d hoped before Cauty manipulated them? Ooh, now there’s a hilarious set-up for a theoretical one-question-only situation, to have it wasted on something so trivial. I’m sure The KLF would approve.

Squarepusher - Just A Souvenir

Warp Records: 2008

You have to feel a bit sorry for all those pioneering IDM wonks from the '90s. They set the bar of ingenuity so bloody high in such a short period of time, that the expectation for them to continuously keep topping themselves would eventually be a futile effort. Not that they would feel the pressure to do so, of course, but some creativity burn-out would have to set in if they didn't explore other music for a while. So while some weren't too keen on Tom Jenkinson taking his Squarepusher guise closer to proper jazz-fusion realms (real instruments, what!?), in the long run it was probably for the best, letting him recharge before his braindance stuff wore itself out.

Still, he’d done his ‘jazz album’ with Music Is Rotted One Note, so even that could be expected of him, especially a full decade following it (ten year celebration! ...or is this just a coincidence?). So how about rock fusion then? Surely ol’ Tom could list several psychedelic and garage-fuzz jam works as inspiration too (much of it came out around the same time as Miles Davis’ peak). Yeah, sure, whatever, you’ve earned your right for musical self-indulgence, Mr. Jenkinson, by all means show us what you got in your one-man band cadre.

Well, not right away, it turns out on Just A Souvenir. The first few tracks are on more familiar ground, like the spritely space-funk works Star Time 2 and The Coathanger, while A Real Woman sounds more like what those late-‘70s avant garde French acts would kick out. Complete with vocoders? I’m sold! Shame the whole album isn’t like this, but the rest is good fun too, provided you have an ear for odd-ball jam-fusion music.

And you know it’s gonna be one of those when you hear that tell-tale tik-tik-tik of drum sticks at the opening. Then bass, guitar, drums, and occasional keyboards go at it, like some kind of demented punk outfit from a far-flung European province while wacked-out on acid. Though it’s just Squarepusher doing the music, you can almost imagine a three or four piece band giving their all on stage or in a garage. Considering there’s but one chap making all this racket, the music’s impressive enough that it sounds like there should be more there.

Yet, there’s something missing from Just A Souvenir that completes the illusion: it’s too tight. I’d imagine if this really was some long-lost psychedelic punk-jam band from the ‘70s, the music would come off even sloppier, wonderfully so; like the band members had all the inspiration in the world, but not quite the skill to pull it off, and you’d admire their gumption, if nothing else. As a musician and producer, Tom Jenkinson’s better than that, which has given him the chance to explore such diverse sonic avenues, but not the expertise to fully integrate into them. In the end, we all know what his bread-and-butter be, but thanks for the souvenir just the same.

2 Unlimited - Jump For Joy (BioMetal, Part 3)

Popular Records: 1996

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.)

“Dammit, Anita, what’s its weakness?”

“I… I…” The HALBRED’s scanner still drew blank, unable to identify the cloud of spores. “I don’t know,” she stammered, shaking her head. “Try the rockets.”

“I already have,” Ray shouted in her head. Why’d he have to keep shouting? Was he cracking under the pressure? What hope did they have if he couldn’t hold it together? “They pass through these blasted clouds. No effect at all.”

The HALBRED’s shields had held against the attack, but drained the ship’s auxiliary power fast. If she couldn’t find a way to defeat the spores, they’d overwhelm them, doing who knew what in the process. Maybe there wasn’t a way. Maybe the BioMetals had developed technology they weren’t prepared for. Maybe this was nothing but a fool’s mission, with no hope-

“The source!” she suddenly shouted. “Ray, punch it forward.”

“What? But-“

“Go! And get the main cannon ready.”

The HALBRED emerged from the hidden alcove, and instantly the spore cloud enveloped the ship, tiny balls of synthetic and organic matter attacking the shield spheres tightly orbiting them. Anita drew up another life-sign scan of the cavern ahead. Her first had yielded no BioMetals before, but then it wouldn’t if it was only scanning for familiar forms – frigates, humanoids, even insect types.

“Where am I going?” Ray asked.

“Forward. I’ll let you know when to fire.” With a sharp thrust, the HALBRED plowed into the cloud, carving a wake of yellow spores.

Anita recalibrated her scanner to pick up combinations signs of chitin and cellulose, and immediately her sensors flared red. No surprise the spores surrounding their ship would be filled with them, but she hoped her scanner could pin-point a concentrated area. Within moments, she spotted it, her eyes lighting up as an excited, “Yes!” escaped her mouth, nearly jumping for joy in the process.

“Here,” she said, punching coordinates into the HALBREDs computer. “Fire at this spot and don’t stop until the banks are dry!”

“But there’s nothing-“

“Do it! We’re almost out of shield power!”

A concentrated blast of white-hot energy erupted from the HALBRED’s main cannon. Though neither could see the target, Anita was certain it struck against a wall where three large polyps the size of their ship rested. An explosion rocked the cavern, the cloud of spores falling gently to the surface below soon after.

Anita couldn’t help but smile when she heard Ray’s bewildered request for an explanation. “All these spores were acting independent, yet together,” she explained. “Sort of like fungal communities. I figured they had to be controlled from a central source, but since we’ve never encountered BioMetals of such origin, the ship didn’t recognize them.”

“Huh. Well, let’s hope we don’t encounter any more of these things,” he gruffed.

Not even a ‘good job’, Anita sighed, but she wasn’t surprised either. If the BioMetals had evolved to adapt plant and fungal based organisms too, there was no telling what their deadly potential could be, especially ahead of them.


(If you're hopeless lost as to what's going on, click here.)

Joey Beltram - Harthouse DJ Mix Series Vol. 1 - Lost In New York (Original TC Review)

Harthouse Mannheim: 2008

(2013 Update:
This CD must have utterly tanked, as there were no subsequent volumes to the Harthouse DJ Mix Series. Or maybe Harthouse Mannheim couldn't lure in anyone else to do another mix for them? They did release a couple compilations, but in general this 'rebirth' of the label hasn't garnered anywhere near the same level of success as its '90s former self did. Too much minimal monotony, yes?

This has also apparently been Joey Beltram's last significant release, DJ mix or production wise. Geez, it wasn't that bad, was it? Yeah, all those stutter effects in here are kinda annoying now, but did the whole process disillusion him to the techno scene? Has he looked at the rise of the festival circuit and thought, "No, this isn't for me. Not at all." Oh come on, ya'll don't really believe that, do ya? He's still doing the DJ circuit, but it'd be interesting to have a couple new productions from him, just to hear where his mind's at on that front in this day in age - please say he no longer are serious techno producer).

IN BRIEF: Lost in Berlin, more like.

Like an ‘energy flash’ from the past, Beltram is back. Well, no, not exactly. Like so many pioneers that helped shape techno of the early 90s, he never really went away; however, as tastes and trends changed with the times, many reckoned he fell ‘off a hilltop’. Of course, it’s silly to think such, but perhaps it was looking about time for the Queens native to remind the techno fiends out there of his ‘existence’. (no more bad Beltam puns, I promise)

As always, the way to go about doing so is getting your ear to the ground, find out what the hottest sounds are – in this case, minimal techno - and throw your stamp on it. Generally, it’s a 50-50 shot whether the crowds will regard it as a bold move forward or a desperate ploy for continued relevance, but in Beltram’s case, you figure contemporary techno fans will be more accepting of this direction since he’s flirted with the genre numerous times. Therefore, Lost In New York is as much a manifesto as it is a regular mix CD, with new productions and track selections designed to inform everyone that, yes, now Beltram are serious minimal techno DJ too. This may potentially strike as a horrible misfire, but fortunately for us, he still retains some of the bangin’ attributes of his past, and this mix is all the better for it whenever he does.

After a couple plod’n’murk tech-house warm-up tracks, the disc properly takes off with the rumbling resonance of the appropriately titled Analog God from Dustin Zahn, and peaks out with Len Faki’s Death By House. Despite the BPMs being lower than where you’d normally expect of a Beltram set (really, the same can be said of the whole mix), this is some kick-ass stuff, with beats that bring the Brooklyn techno-boom as fine as any year you may be familiar with. The follow-up with Beltram’s own evil acid workout Shaking Trees keeps things on a promising tip, but sadly the set takes a middling stumble heading into the second half.

McHugh’s H2O is what I like to call a ‘bathroom break’ track, and not just because the sound effects of water will make you want to piss. Y’see, after all that fine momentum built up, Beltram wrecks it with a tune that’s utterly tuneless, and sucks the rhythmic energy away with beats that are too dink-donk and hissy-hish to be any real fun – might as well relieve the bladder while it plays, right?. Granted, I have a good laugh over the super steam-release at the ‘climaxes’ (only designated as such because they come after apparent builds), where it goes ppssssSSSSSSHHHHhhhhheeeww, but I don’t think hilarity was McHugh’s intent.

Following that, Beltram nearly rescues the set with his own Scorpion - despite being filled with contemporary techno clichés, it’s still a fun bit of stomp-a-long stuff. Such energy is once again lost though, as he decides to go into an ‘I are really serious deep techno DJ’ section afterwards, where you’ll find ample time to bob your head and maybe even slightly shuffle your feet but nothing that thrills; as usual, it’s interesting to hear but this plinky-plonk stuff just goes on for too long. By the time his remix of Beyer’s Swedish Silver hits, it’s grown incredibly tedious. Fortunately, he brings the boom back with a couple of good techno groovers at the end, finishing this CD on the up.

All this said, and you’re probably still wondering about two things: how does this mix compare to previous Beltram efforts, and how does it match up against all the other techno mixes on the market these days. To answer the first, I’d have to say not nearly as much – when you listen to the energetic techno the Brooklyn native used to bang out, the stuff on here, while perhaps a little more clever, is missing the same level of thrill. Still, Lost In New York is more fun than many modern sets of this style, thanks in large part to the effects Beltram throws in. Instead of cold, clinical sterile mixing and computer-perfect layering, you get telegraphed transitions and messy stutter cut-ups - sometimes it sounds like an audio stream lagging, but when it works, it works! Just gander at the final track for a great example.

This is a fine set. It may not be innovative and cynics will probably scoff at ‘yet another old-timer trying to fit in with the hip clubbing crowds’, but compared to many other techno mix CDs currently out there, Beltram’s latest is at least fun. So long as you don’t mind enduring the plink-plonk-hiss minimal bits, Lost In New York makes for a worthy casual thow-on.

Ken Ishii - Jelly Tones

R & S Records: 1995/2008

Ken Ishii’s from Japan, making him a very important person in the world of techno by default. More specifically, he helped put Japanese techno on the map, establishing it as an actual unique branch of the techno pantheon when, at the time, hardly anyone figured the Land Of The Rising Sun would even have such a scene. At a glance, that’s seems incomprehensible. Japan – the country with an unrivaled fascination with future technology, where names like Tomita, Merzbow, and, um, Kitaro, were among the earliest adopters of synth music in the ‘70s and ‘80s – were late to the techno game. On the other hand, it’s not too surprising such would be the case, as the cultural movement that spurred techno’s growth didn’t really exist in Japan. Illegal warehouse parties? Dank clubs? Counter-culture spurred on by all-night benders? Japan had little, if any, of that going on, so the world at large continued regarding the nation as a place where weird noisy experiments or New Age dribble was their chief electronic music export (also: j-pop!), and that’s about it.

Then some Japanese kid gets signed to seminal London label R & S Records, and the rest is history …sort of. Japanese techno is still somewhat niche compared to other hubs of the world, but Ken Ishii helped open the door, especially so with this here Jelly Tones album released way back when, and given a recent re-vamp with ridiculously convoluted packaging.

Funny enough, aside from a couple instances, this album doesn't really strike me as 'Japanese' in tone, but still very much Detroit influenced. There are scant instances of Far East tonal harmony or rhythm, though the mood does feel more proper cyber-punk than future dystopia. Or maybe that's the imagery associated with Jelly Tones doing it. Ishii managed to get Koji Morimoto to lend artwork and even an anime video to the project, and as anyone who's seen Akira knows, that guy's mint at depicting future-shock Neo-Tokyo settings. So, neener-neener, Daft Punk fans, Ken Ishii did it first. Hell, those French robots were probably inspired by the video for the bleepy clicky-click tune EXTRA.

As for the rest, you get a couple bangers like Stretch and Frame Out, some ‘braindance’ kind of stuff in Cocao Mousse, Ethos 9 and Pause In Herbs (oh, there’s some of that quirky Japanese styled electro-cool vibe), and the requisite ambient leaning cuts with Moved By Air and Endless Season. And, um, that’s about it. Only eight tunes on here, though a couple remixes were added to the American release, and, as usual, Japan got extra tracks too (Rusty Transparency and The Sign; also, Sony Records released it there, giving Ishii quite the ‘mainstream’ bump in his mother land in the process ).

All said, Jelly Tones’ a sweet package of unique mid-‘90s techno, if you’re in the market for that sort of thing, though maybe not as genre-bending as Ishii’s later work. Gotta have that one ‘ease the noobies in’ album, I guess.

Guru - Jazzmatazz, Volume 1

Chrysalis: 1993

Them kids, they seemed to like those jazz samples and loops in their hip-hop. Yet, were they really appreciating that scene's massive history, or dismissing it as something to be pilfered and exploited on the turntablist circuit? If the latter, that simply wouldn't do, at least as far as Guru (peace upon his floating soul) was concerned. No, all these urban youths vibing on the beats he and DJ Premier were showcasing as Gang Starr needed a proper lesson in what jazz truly stood for. Thus, in a project that had to be seen as utterly daft during the height of gangsta rap's first wave of popularity, the self-professed “Gifted Unlimited Rhymes Universal” set about rounding up several jazz musicians for a collaborative effort where guitarists, trumpeters, saxophonists, keyboardists and more could work their magic along with hip-hop beats, Guru, and other MCs.

Coincidentally, the results come off like the sort of acid jazz the label Acid Jazz was churning out at the time. So, if you're an electronic music follower who just won't have anything to do with the hip-hop scene, you're in safe hands with Jazzmatazz, Volume 1. And hoo, Guru must have had a lot of faith in his concept, what with such a presumptuous inclusion of “Volume blank” in the title; or perhaps he was so enthused with the results, he just knew this wouldn't be the only time he indulged with the jazz scene. In fact, nearly every solo LP he released would bear the word Jazzmatazz, whether an actual continuation of the project or not.

Seeing as how this could be considered a solo Guru album, I must admit some disappointment on the lyrical front. Aside from a couple instances, he doesn't offer much beyond respectful nods to the jazz masters of yore or smooth, luke-warm come-ons. Not that Guru often got rowdy or 'gangsta', but his material with Gang Starr had more street knowledge that made you pay attention to the words he manifested. Tracks like Transit Ride, Sights In The City, and Down The Backstreets, he does come correct with such lyrics, but it seems he'd rather complement the other musicians than let his words override everything.

And which jazz luminaries did he bring to Jazzmatazz? Trumpet player Donald Bryd's here (yep, heard of him). Vibraphonist Roy Ayers here (definitely know that chap). Guitarist Zachery Breaux's here (um...). Keyboardist Simon Law's here (wait, who?). Pianist Lonnie Liston Smith's here (I think... maybe...?). And... okay, I know squat, but I've already admitted my fears in becoming a Jazz Guy.

That doesn't stop me from enjoying these tunes, though not too often, if I’m honest. It's far from the first disc I'll ever reach for when itching for downtempo beats, nor one I need to hear for my hip-hop fix. Perhaps if I had more interest in jazz-proper, Jazzmatazz would spark more of a fire under my ass, but as it stand, Volume 1's better suited for days sparking.

Jean-Michel Jarre - Jarremix (Original TC Review)

Disques Dreyfus: 1995

(2013 Update:
A little mis-information in this review, as Jarre really wasn't trying to get chummy with club culture himself. I'm pretty sure his record label was trying to do so though, hence the licensing of Chronologie out for so many remixes. Oh, any apparently the Laurent Garnier Laboratoire Mix of Oxygene was removed from later editions of Jarremix due to some kind of beef between him and Jarre. Damn, maybe that N.W.A. comparison was apt after all!

Bit of a fun-fact here: way back before I ever started writing for TranceCritic, I'd toyed with the idea of online reviews for a while already, even drumming up about a half-dozen drafts. Most of those ended up recycled into the earliest I did for the website, but I also did one for Jarremix. Never saw a point in submitting a review for this, as I figured interest in a Jean-Michel Jarre remix album wasn't terribly high. Of course, when it cropped up for a Random Review, I had no choice, but by that time, my writing'd vastly improved, and the early draft was scrapped.)

IN BRIEF: A pioneer tries to fit in.

In the year 1993, electronic music was riding high on a wave of unprecedented critical, commercial, and creative growth [2013 Edit: you hadn’t seen anything yet, 2008 Sykonee]. Dozens of fresh faces were shaping the way mainstream audiences regarded synths and sequencers (for good and ill), spurring on a cultural revolution that was quite youth orientated. As a result, many original electronic producers from the 70s were promptly being left to the dust of history. Aside from token nods or blatant sampling, names like Vangelis and Tangerine Dream were becoming irrelevant as the ‘90s took shape.

Amongst those originators being left behind was Jean-Michel Jarre, who’s seminal Oxygene and follow-up Equinoxe made him a house-hold name in the ‘70s, helping to legitimizing electronic music as something more engaging than quirky egg-headed experimentations. However, although he maintained a career throughout the ‘80s, the Frenchman was coming across as hopelessly dated in the ‘90s. He was probably looking at the house and techno producers that had usurped him as a household name, and said to himself, “Man, I started this electronic shit, and this the muther-fuckin’ thanks I get?” - except in French, and with less N.W.A. ‘tude.

Anyhow, in 1993 Jarre got it inside his head to prove he could match these ‘kids’ doing electronic dance music, as he’d already proved himself adept at the synth-poppy stuff. Thus he released the album Chronologie, which included some of his most club-friendly songs ever. Seemingly in an effort to promote the Frenchman even further into clubland, a series of remixes were also commissioned for the lead singles, Chronologie 4 and Chronologie 6. The list of names that were brought in should be instantly recognizable to anyone familiar with the era: Praga Khan, Sunscreem, Gat Decor, Slam… um, Jamie Petrie (Black Girl Rock micro-fame).

Skip ahead a couple years, and Jarre’s label compiled the best of the remixes and released a full-length CD of them. Strangely, only half of them were gathered for Jarremix (everyone but Petrie made at least two), with none from Praga Khan – thus, two from Sunscreem (the E-Motion Mix and S x S Mix for Chronologie 4), one from Gat Decor (Main Mix on Chronologie 6), one from Slam (Slam Mix 1 for Chronologie 6), and Petrie’s Tribal Trance Mix of Chronologie 4. Hardly enough for a full-length CD, is it.

Whatever was Disques Dreyfus to do then? Why, the same thing every record company does when in need of padding out a compilation: get one of the label’s sound engineers to do the job - in this case, Bruno Mylonas. A few years prior, he’d given a studio spit-shine to Jarre’s ‘best of’ release Images, so he was familiar enough with the songs to do some tinkering with them. Would he also provided credible club-ready remixes for Jarremix though? Not really, but, if nothing else, he did provide some variety to this release.

While listening through the CD, you can definitely tell which remixes have direct ties to club land and which ones seem like an approximation of what club land is about, as the out-of-house producers tend to strip the originals down and craft something fresh in the process. For instance, the not-so-subtly titled E-Motion Mix is a blissy trance affair that is pure mid-‘90s from Sunscreem, then opt for a funkier spin with the S x S Mix, making use of a deep acid bassline; each only take snippets of Chronologie 4 in doing so. Likewise, Petrie grabs a couple sounds that were only briefly heard in the original and loops them over a dark tribal beat, which would have made for a killer of a cut had he actually gone somewhere with it – instead, it makes for a nifty little transitional track. Meanwhile, Gat Decor follows suite with Sunscreem with a trance re-rub of his own. Slam, on the other hand, offer one of the more unique attempts at Chronologie 6, with interesting beats, subtle pad washes, burbling acid attacks, and other assorted mid-‘90s techno trappings; again, not much is retained from the original.

Mylonas, on the other hand, retains quite a bit of Jarre’s work for his remixes. The melodies are mostly unchanged, many arrangements don’t stray far from the originals… really, if you’re familiar with songs like Calypso and Magnetic Fields 2, you aren’t going to be hearing anything terribly different here aside from beefier beats. And even when Mylonas does remix songs with the dancefloor in mind, it comes across uncertain. Equinoxe 4 dabbles in funky breaks, but compared to what The Chemical Brothers were doing at the time, Mylonas’ offering is quite weak. Mind, the melodies are still catchy enough, but that’s based solely on Jarre’s work, which Mylonas doesn’t change.

The only Mylonas remix that seems able to match clubbing-wits with the other remixers is the one he did for Revolution, Revolutions. The original was already quite an energetic track to begin with, but here it’s given the prog-house treatment: chugging bottom-heavy rhythms, funky acid tweaks, ethnically-inclined breakdown, and a plethora of extras giving the remix plenty of vitality. If any of Mylonas’ remixes were to get used in a clubbing environment, this would be the one.

I don’t think any of these remixes did make much of an impact when they were released though – beyond the S x S Mix of Chronologie 4, I’ve seldom seen them playlisted. I suppose the notion of a Jarre club track was just as odd back in the ‘90s as it is today; club culture remains incredibly resistant in accepting the Frenchman into their ranks, as the recent abysmal reaction to Jarre’s ‘electro house’ attempt in Téo & Téa proved (and Benassi’s remix fell on equally deaf ears).

That said, Jarremix is still a fine enough full-length to throw on. Despite whatever preconceived cynicism you may have regarding a project like this, the fact remains the music here is perfectly enjoyable (well, aside from the Ambiant [sic] Mix of Equinoxe 4, which is a bit dull), either as club-rubs of the Chronologie singles, or as variations on other memorable Jarre tunes. Purists may balk, club culture may scoff, but as far as remix projects are concerned, Jarremix remains a respectable addition. (By the way, whatever happened to the Laurent Garnier remix of Oxygene 1?)

Zyron - Italo Classics: Mix 1 & 2

(~): 2004

These were a pair of mixes available from a DJ by the name of Zyron at Discogs, not an official release of any kind (and sadly no longer uploaded, though maybe he’ll offer a link if you ask). I don't review online sets here because, as there's no hard copy or proper Discogs entry, I don't count them as part of my current listening project (and Lord knows it'd add a ton more entries to the list, which I certainly don't need if I ever want to get through everything sometime this decade). However, back when I primarily listened to CDs on the go, I had to burn MP3 sets to discs, and as anyone who's done so back in the day can relate, sometimes you wanted special custom-made labels for those special CDs. I actually made several such mix CDs for myself, including a few running series for fun. Since I'm including them in my listening project, I may as well write about the music on these too, since they usually have unique tunes I won't get a chance to talk about otherwise.

Like italo disco! Oh man, is there any form of music more deliciously retro and cheesy than this one? Synth pop may have had the 'credible' groups to its name, and hi-NRG may have had the gay scene in its (front) pocket, but italo found a unique role between the two, bringing infectious tika-tika rhythms, off-beat basslines, tinny brass, and catchy hooks under one triumphant banner. Almost exclusively a European thing, the scene churned out a ridiculous number of hits that you'll swear you've heard somewhere else before (most likely recycled in following dance-pop genres).

The two mixes Mr. Johan “Zyron” Åstrand did were apparently done as a lark, but if you ever wanted a primer on the italo genre, they’re about as solid an introduction as you could ever get. So many classics are included in the mix: My Mine’s Hypnotic Tango, Baltimore’s Tarzan Boy, Scotch’s Disco Band, Fancy’s Slice Me Nice, Baby’s Gang’s Disco Maniac, Primadonna’s Angel You, Digital Emotion’s Get Up, Action... I could go on. It’s not a total italo-fest though, as a few nods to space synth – the (primarily) instrumental ‘proper musicians be here’ branch of eurodisco - crop up too, with cuts from Laserdance, Cyber People, and Hipnosis.

As for the mixes themselves, the first one is a little slower and – dare I say it in any relation to italo – funkier. The second is more upbeat for the most part, with a little ‘ballad-breather’ in the middle. Given the difficulty this music tends to be for smooth blends, Zyron ‘cheated’ by using beat-loops in mixing software, plus gave many tracks some post-mixdown shine so the low-quality nature of those old vinyls wouldn’t wonk things up track to track. All said, a solid job done for music that still has trouble being taken seriously, but who cares what scenester snobs think when the tunes are as delightfully fun as these are!