Various - In Trance We Trust 008 - Ton T.B.

In Trance We Trust: 2003

Now this is a surprising mix. While Ton T.B. (Antonius H.M. Ton van Empel to his birth parents) is best known as one half of Three Drives (On A Vinyl) and numerous other productions, he’s never been seen as a DJ, and for good reason. This here In Trance We Trust 008 remains his only major mix CD credit at Lord Discogs, and while I’ve no doubt he does the occasional gig as most producers are wont to do now, all the glory he’s gained comes from the music he makes.

A little less surprising is the style that ended up on this mix. As you’d expect of a guy that became synonymous with the height of progressive trance’s late ‘90s peak, the early going of his set features some choice cuts of the genre, including Joker Jam’s blissy Traffic, and even breaks care of the San Project Remix of Coda’s Under Control. And here I thought this stuff was dead by 2003. It all reaches a mini-peak with his and DJ Enrico’s Air Traffic, a tune with a whiny hook that’ll have you initially scratching your head, yet somehow makes sense once all the other elements are in play. Say, why didn’t the other half of Three Drives get a mix as well?

The middle of this CD’s all a-muddle though, as if Ton T.B. didn’t have the knowhow to link the first third of his mix with the banging latter portions. Rather awful among this bunch is Tillmann Uhrmacher’s Friends, which includes a woeful saxophone solo in the breakdown. Ugh, smooth jazz and trance: a hideous combination. Fortunately, once things pick up again with Midtone’s Pearl, it’s high-flying energy to the finish, with galloping trance rhythms galore. Sweet, there’s even a nod to German trance of yore in Tyrome’s Bad Magic, and Tiësto’s remix of Jan Johnston’s Venus remains one of my few vocal trance guilty pleasures (yeah, that Cor Fijneman guy had a hand in it too).

So a solid mix of progressive and high-energy trance from Ton T.B. Name notwithstanding, I admit being unprepared by this turn of events, given the low expectations I had for the In Trance We Trust series going in. I wonder if the rest will turn out this good. (spoiler: nope)


A classy, efficient effort from a trance veteran? Only World Champion Ryu can give proper perspective in this guest review.

Ryu: “The way of the DJ is the way of the warrior, tirelessly striving for perfection of skill and craft. One must be consumed by an almost obsessive determination to be the very best, practice with patience, lest he is consumed by their darker desires. This Ton T.B., he displays these qualities here, for which I must commend. It is-”

Ken: “Geez, Ryu, lighten up. It's dance music, tunes for cutting loose and having fun. Stop being so uptight. Let go once in a while.”

Evil Ryu: “You're right. I must give into Satsui no Hado...”

Ken: “Wait, that's not-!”

Various - In Trance We Trust 005 - DJ Cor Fijneman

In Trance We Trust: 2001

And right in the first track, I'm hit with a god-awful example of supersaw epic trance. Holy Hell, this Aloha from hopelessly forgotten Organza is pathetic. I know these DJs have to highlight some tracks from the In Trance We Trust label, but be pickier about your selections, eh? It's the opening sound of waves crashing you wanted, Cor, wasn't it. A Balearic feeling for your first of two mixes in this series. *sigh* Why couldn't 006 have been the cheap one? It's got Oliver Lieb, Airwave, Insigma, Orkidea, and Marco V on it. This one? Allure, Rank 1, and 4 Strings; Art Of Trance too, but it's Breathe, Simon Berry's regrettable attempt at a vocal trance anthem (okay, the acid's still mint).

Anyhow, the chubby, cherub-faced Cor Fijneman was one of Dutch trance's early key players, having a hand in producing some of Tiësto's first hits (Theme From Norefjell, Sparkles). This still being the early days of In Trance We Trust, Mr. Verwest’s also involved with putting these mixes together, though only given a 'compiler' credit along with Cor, while Mr. Fijneman handles the live turntable mix. I've no idea what the two had in mind while selecting these tracks, as there's almost no flow between tunes. It jumps through all sorts of epic, anthem trance of the day, some of it none too shabby (Freon’s Heaven’s Gate, Twenty-Something’s Morphing Mirror), others about as corny as you'd expect of supersaw trance in the year 2001 (Clubmasterz’ Cyberdrive, Ascension’s Someone). Yeah, the fatigue was definitely setting in with the old template.

So while the mix doesn't have much direction other than banging out various trance of the day, the high energy of this music is enough to keep you engaged for the most part. I'd grown bored of it by Denzel D.'s A Binary Star though, and a few tough tech-trancers for the finish weren’t enough to leave more than a passable impression on yours truly. Or maybe I’m still just bummed about not getting the mix with Oliver Lieb on it.

As for ol’ Cor, he continues producing and DJing, but as with so many of these In Trance We Trust jocks, never broke out of third-tier status. What, the Tiësto bump wasn’t enough?


Our guest Street Fighter Alpha 3 reviewer is none other than the Jamaican man with a perpetual smile, the “Southern Comet”, Dee Jay! Only he could be positive enough to enjoy this stuff so unabashedly.

Dee Jay: “Hey, mon, glad to see you recognize my great sense of music and rhythm, yeah! Only my amazing musicality can kick off such a wicked project. Speaking of which, have you heard my latest single, The Sun Rises Everyday? Dancehall number one hit like a Machine Gun Upper. It's inspired by my incredible Theme Of Sunrise super combo, mon! Hey, these Dutch guys, they like sunrises too, amirite? Can't say trance is much for me, too hard, but hey-hey-hey, they smilin' everyday, so they cool, mon.”

In Trance We Trust: Super Champion Review Project Turbo

Here’s the deal: way back when, I reviewed the eleventh volume of the In Trance We Trust DJ mix series, helmed by Phynn for that particular edition. As with so many trance mixes of the time, it was a middling affair for the most part, one that prompted me to derail my overly-detailed coverage to play some Street Fighter Alpha 3. An odd thing to do for a ‘professional amateur’ review, for sure, but fun nonetheless. I was rather looking forward to hearing it again in my alphabetical order, just for old time’s sake and maybe recount another Street Fighter session. One snag though: I no longer have that mix, which is odd considering I know I listened to it just a couple years back.

Whatever. I can just get another copy again if I really wanted to, probably at a reduced price through Amazon no less. Hmm, but if I’m going to do that, why not also do another ‘DJ mix series on cheap’ retrospective? It’s been a while since the last one, and though instinct tells me otherwise, I’ve long been curious to hear if the In Trance We Trust series might offer some long-lost gems. The concept of the label does have easy appeal, with classy cover art, a clubbier sound, and often giving up-and-comers a chance for greater exposure. Okay, it’s also a sub-label of Black Hole Recordings, which means there’s undoubtedly loads of Dutch trance cheddar to wade through. Yet, considering epic, anthem trance excess has faded from popularity, those tunes can now be appreciated on a different level, as appealing artifacts of a time passed. Shyah. Right. And Paris Hilton will win the DJMag Top 100.

There’ve been nineteen (!) main volumes of In Trance We Trust over the years, so I had to place a limit on how many were picked up. Since only a couple turned up under the $5 mark I used for prior retrospectives, I instead settled on everything I could find that was cheaper than Phynn’s edition. Turns out a lot of them were. I’m… going to regret this, aren’t I?

(Oh, and I didn’t bother getting Phynn’s mix again; funnier to see who’s considered of lesser value than him)

Finally, in honor of the Street Fighter derailment in my original TranceCritic review, each volume will feature a brief, guest reviewer from Alpha 3. Who will show up? Who will even know what trance music is? What characters are even in Alpha 3?? Stay tuned in the following week for these answers and more!

Model 500 - Deep Space

R & S Records: 1995/2011

Oh, what the Hell, R & S? I wasn’t too choked about seeing you replace the Aphex Twin re-issues with your logo, as those were rather drab covers to begin with (no, SAW 85-92 really is). Not so with Deep Space. This was the first proper LP from Juan Atkin’s Model 500 project, and to sell the image of a techno journey through the out reaches of the galaxy, the original cover showed a gorgeous picture of the Eta Carinae Nebula, and nothing else. What mysterious, wondrous soundscapes could be contained within that jewel-case/gate-fold? The vast expanse of gas and young stars, including the super-massive Eta Carina star set to go supernova at any time in the near future (if it hasn't already, crazy-ass light speed paradoxes!), it lures you in, ready to be taken on a cosmic ride by a techno legend. No, that's not it anymore. You get to see the R & S horse on a blank, purple front. Well, who cares about that, unless you're an R & S disciple?

Yeah, yeah, it’s my own fault for sleeping on Deep Space for so long. Had I found it in shops way back in the day, I’d probably have snagged a copy (that cover!). Truth be told though, I didn’t even know it existed until recent years. I definitely knew of Juan Atkins (who doesn’t? No, you aliens from the Eta Carinae Nebula don’t count), and even the Model 500 alias, but only his seminal singles from the ‘80s. It never occurred to me that he’d released two fully-realized LPs nearly a decade on from those early Detroit days, much less check with the good Lord Discogs to discover such tantalizing info.

I can imagine the anticipation from fans going into Deep Space …and the subsequent disappointment. Here was one of the Detroit (Belleview) Godfathers of Techno, coming out of the dystopian steelworks, hopefuls undoubtedly expecting Atkins to rescue their scene from the stagnation Hawtin minimalism had started settling in by the mid-‘90s. Nope, you ain’t getting that. This here a concept album, using techno to explore spacey pad work (Orbit), synths shimmering like glittering stars (Astralwerks), groovy minimalist shuffle (Starlight), cold, interstellar electro (Last Transport (To Alpha Centauri)), and stuttering bleeps and bloops as though hitching a ride on tachyon transmissions (Warning). Hey, this is some great sounding stuff, definitely on the Carl Craig side of techno where the ‘90s are concerned. Yet, not as genre defining as you’d expect a debut album from Model 500 might be. Though R & S deemed it classic enough to receive the ‘bland R & S Classics packaging’, Deep Space isn’t exactly discussed up to the degree other techno classics of the era are.

Ah well, it’s not like Atkins had anything left to prove. If exploring his muse by way of a trip among the stars was how he decided to drop a debut Model 500 album, so be it.

Banco de Gaia - Last Train To Lhasa

Mammoth Records: 1995

I was so disappointed when I first got Last Train To Lhasa. All the expectations and preconceived notions of what Toby Marks' proper sophomore effort would bring, and none of them came about. In fact, what the Hell is this music on here? House beats? Techno? Weird wibbly ambient excursion? I thought Banco de Gaia was supposed to be a cooler sounding Deep Forest. This isn’t what I'd heard from him before. Okay, so it was only two tracks by that point, both on an ambient dub compilation, but it was enough to know exactly what my new favourite electronic act was all about. Don't judge me. I'm old enough to know what's up with music in the world, at this old age of seventeen.

Yeah, 1996 Sykonee had a lot to learn, but I'm continuously amused by that first impression of this album, one that obviously dissipated after a couple more play-throughs. Some things still hold it back from being a great Banco LP, yet there’s also things you’re not gonna find elsewhere in his discography either.

Like that thirty-six minute version of Kincajou on CD2! Essentially carrying on where the main album version faded off, story goes Duck! Asteroid came about during a studio jam. What, was Pete Namlook hanging out at the time? It definitely has the hallmarks of the ambient wizard’s lengthy noodle-fests, but somehow never meanders, feeling like you’re travelling about the galaxy in a space-born Tibetan monastery. The fact it’s followed upon by another spacey dub cut (Eagle) completes the sonic trip through the cosmos (I guess the tribal-trance Gnomes Mix of Kuos is the launch).

What about CD1, then? Well, Last Train To Lhasa’s here, made popular by its inclusion on the first Northern Exposure. I like it fine, but not as much as others do – good atmospheric moments and all, but rather lacking in the rhythm department. In fact, most of this album has that ‘some-good, some-meh’ production going on. Kuos has a fun idea somewhere, but is undone by using such an overplayed African sample for its hook. Amber builds wonderfully at the beginning (that bass!), then doesn’t go much of anywhere after; alternatively, 887 has a great finish, but ambles far too long to get there. White Paint’s pretty good, what with its soaring choral pads and dubby beat, but I’ve been spoiled by the chipper version on the Live At Glastonbury CD. China’s a pleasant little chill number, portraying the culture in a more positive light compared to the scathing indictment Marks mentions in the liner notes regarding Tibetan atrocities. Take a stance, guy.

Speaking of stances, I’m always surprised by how many point to Last Train To Lhasa as their favourite Banco album. Sillies, his follow-up albums were far better, ol’ Toby finally and firmly breaking away from standard dance music moulds marked by his early work. This one has its share of brilliant, sublime moments within the Banco discography, but not to the degree latter efforts offered.

Trentemøller - The Last Resort (Original TC Review)

Poker Flat Recordings: 2006

(2013 Update:
Oh my God, I thought ugly, bloated reviews like this one were a thing of my past by late '06. Way too much preamble about 'the state of the musics' in the early going, some of which is hilariously dated now. Mylo pushing "musical innovation"? Markus Schulz in the same sentence as Dirty Vegas and Audio Bullys? Save that kind of material for blog posts, guy, none of it has anything to do with Trentemøller. Right, I was attempting a segue into the notion of Anders becoming a proper breakout electronic music star, but even that angle is moot at this point. Despite earning all the accolades for The Last Resort, Trentemøller's faded off into the realms of indie rock, shoegaze, and other assorted music unfriendly for clubbers the world over. Hardly anyone speaks of his output anymore, at least in the same reverential tone as his mid-'00s breakout.

We should have seen it coming though. This album has all the hallmarks of an electronic music producer with more on his mind than straight-forward club cuts for DJs to rinse out, for which Trentemøller was heralded for, a successful risk taken and accomplished. Even the following tour with a live band was met with kudos. Had anyone known that road would lead to the realms of indie rock, however, I wonder if those same folks would have been so eagre to sing his praises.)


IN BRIEF: A light in the dark.

In a recent discussion with fellow writer J’, our discourse led to the topic a few troubles afflicting electronic music lately. We by no means felt it was in dire straits, mind, but when compared to the critical, popular, and creative highs seen in the 90s, this decade’s certainly falling behind. While there are a number of contributing factors for this, a major one we agreed upon was the lack of breakout star producers pushing musical innovation. Sure, we have our Felix da Housecats and Vitalics and Mylos and Stuart Prices, but that’s small compared to what the 90s gave us (The Future Sound Of London, Underworld, BT, Orbital... I could go on forever). And, most likely, it was the unfortunate fact electronic music’s marketing power decided to push DJs more than producers which caused this gap, leaving many potential talented new kids on the block buried underneath the hype behind the guy who plays their records.

With the idea of superstar DJs growing passé and some of the old guard moving on, electronic music is starved for new stars. Every whiff of commercial success gets jumped on by the media, proclaiming many a producer with some unique wrinkle or clever idea as the next big thing. Many of them die quick deaths though, most of the time due to the over-hype that comes with such desperation. Audio Bullys, Markus Schulz, Fischerspooner, Dirty Vegas: just a few names that could never have hoped to meet the expectations placed on them. So, it’s been with a degree of caution many have approached Anders Trentemøller as yet another possible candidate for Breakout Star status.

Already a prolific and accomplished remixer in the ‘minimal’ scene, his underground credibility has substantially grown with each project. His music, though usually sparse, tends to surround you in a mesmerizing atmosphere of dark, dubby, glitchy soundscapes while groovy tech house rhythms play out. And while such music has been known to get lost up its own ass, Trentemøller balances it out with playful human qualities. Quite often when listening to a ‘minimal’ set, the track that will eventually snag you into actually paying attention to the music will have Anders’ touch on it.

With the underground positively buzzing and other media types picking up on it (Trentemøller has already become a punch-line for dance music pretentiousness in some circles, although it’s hardly warranted), Anders’ star was definitely on the rise. Many wondered if he’d live up to the potential many expected of him when he finally dropped his first album, or if he’d flop like other hyped producers.

I suppose the outcome of this has already been settled, as many reviews of The Last Resort have come and gone since the album was released this past October. And they have been good. Very good. In fact, Trentemøller’s debut exceeded many expectations in that he delivered a release that defied what you were supposed to get out of ‘minimal.’ Having finally managed to sit down and listen to it (living on the other side of the world often means delays... well, at least if you want to remain honest about getting albums), I must say I’m inclined to agree.

The opening track, Take Me Into Your Skin, gives us clear indication of the kind of eclecticism to expect on The Last Resort. Yes, you have your usual radio transistor drones and beluga whale clicks and micro beats that you’d expect from the minimal camps. However, Trentemøller uses such sounds as window dressing - the meat and potatoes of this track are the orchestral swells and building percussion, much of which caps off in a cacophony of sound. Easing us through it all are warm melodic tones that tenderly embrace you, like a reassuring friend guiding you down a dark path.

And with that sentence, we come to the reason for Trentemøller’s success as a musician: his songs demand metaphorical representation for description, as he creates mental imagery with his stark soundscapes. As such, the music on The Last Resort can be very personal for the listener. I could detail at great length the sort of things Anders’ music touches my psyche with but part of the charm of music in general is how it affects everyone individually, so I’ll leave that part up to you to discover for yourself.

Genres are skillfully hopped and blended without a care whether they fit into convention. Anders definitely displays a love for dub, as tracks like Evil Dub, Nightwalker, and Chameleon show. However, he doesn’t limit himself to what is expected of such music, having no problem throwing in a few glitchy squelches or dark ambient drones should it warrant it.

Other times, an affinity for score work becomes apparent, and will come as a surprise to long-time Trentemøller fans used to his club friendly output. The duo combo of Like Two Strangers and The Very Last Resort showcases just how adept at it he is. Amongst orchestral swells and pleasant bells, the former maintains a tender, if uncertain, atmosphere. Sliding into The Very Last Resort though (and tracks on here do slide into one another with ease, as any good album does), a gripping desolate feeling overcomes you. Paranoid guitars, choking sound effects, and uncertain, wandering melodies surround you with unease. It’s like The Future Sound Of London at their darkest moments.

There are other dark moments as well, such as tracks like the minimal Snowflake, but Anders does exhibit an occasional sense of fun too. Vamp in particular is a welcome jazzy romp, and the glitchy quirkiness breaking up the pleasant orchestral moments of While The Cold Winter Waiting are cute. Those aching for a club beat will find the dub techno excursion of Into The Trees satisfying.

Amongst all these various emotions Trentemøller tugs at with his music, he is most effective when he touches the tender side of sound. No matter the general feeling of a track, throughout The Last Resort you have a sense of hopeful longing, and that finally pays off towards the album’s end. Moan and Miss You are quiet, contemplative songs with comforting melodies, always a classy way to cap off an album.

Hmm. In spite of all this glowing praise, I still detect a smattering of doubt out there. I suppose Trentemøller’s association with ‘minimal’ won’t go away any time soon, and those who fear that style of techno are worried The Last Resort will be nothing more than monotonous droning, no matter what anyone says. While big riffs and boshing beats and screaming synths definitely aren’t to be found here, this shouldn’t keep you from getting this album. Even if you don’t have the patience to sit down and just listen to music, The Last Resort works just as easily as a background soundtrack - there are more than enough intriguing sounds throughout which will draw your attention, no matter how distracted by other tasks you may be.

Is Anders the potential star electronic music could use? The Last Resort certainly makes a strong claim in his favor. He’s displayed the ability of a producer who doesn’t feel constrained by what is expected of him and the skill to pull it off expertly. Trentemøller’s debut should stand up as one of the few classics of this decade future releases will be compared to. Believe this hype.

Note: You’ve probably noticed this review doesn’t contain coverage of the second CD that came with the initial release. Although I have heard it, because it was merely a limited edition bonus it’s rather pointless to discuss it at this point. This version is now the official release. However, I will mention should I have had the chance to cover it, the double-disc version of The Last Resort would have secured a rare five star rating from me. Yes, it’s that good too.

Moby - Last Night (Original TC Review)

Mute: 2008

(2013 Update:
Not much to add to this review, as it holds up just as fine as it did when it first came out, though calling it "his most accomplished album since Everything Is Wrong" is a bit of a stretch on my part. Kind of a shame this was just a one-off return to early club music on Moby's part, but it was only ever intended to be as such. I wonder if we might see another one though, what with classic house again back in vogue after a couple-year gap of not. Man, was 2008 ever a weird year for house music.)


IN BRIEF: The Moby ravers enjoyed returns.

I don’t think anyone expected Moby returning to dance music in such a fashion, if at all. Granted, he tested the waters a few years back with a Voodoo Child album, but for the most part everyone figured Mr. Hall’s most recognizable project had forever gone the way of quaint bittersweet pop-rock. Still, it’s not like the mainstream readily accepted Moby. Although they enjoyed the music off Play (if anything because you couldn’t escape it) and the odd tune here and there if it fit the times, Moby remained the butt-end of numerous jokes, an all-too easy target of ridicule.

Perhaps it isn’t surprising, then, that as he nears mid-life, Moby has begun reflecting, recalling a time and place one was accepted no matter who you were or what you did. The second Summer Of Love certainly was such a time, and thanks to anthems such as Go and Next Is The E, Mr. Hall emerged as an underground darling of the early American rave scene. So if such fond thoughts have been on his mind lately, producing an album which captures those free-wheeling hedonistic years in sixty-five minutes is an intriguing idea; the fact this comes at a point when classic house music is seeing something of a revival just so happens to be a bonus for both parties.

Still, there have already been plenty of question marks, accusations and critical responses to such an endeavor. Cynically, you have to wonder why Moby would go back to a sound he hasn’t touched on in over a decade, especially when his last Best Of release ignored nearly all of his pre-Play output. Also, will his current fanbase even be willing to accept such blatant romanticizing of early ‘90s dance music when it hasn’t been in vogue since Madonna’s Vogue? And does Moby even have much chance of standing toe-to-toe with admittedly much trendier revivalists like Hercules & Love Affair or Dixon?

Last Night will probably fly right over your head if you’ve been fussing over such thoughts. On this new album, Moby doesn’t seem to care whether the popular press or the bloggers or even the current crop of EDM followers accept his retro-direction; it’s primarily the old-schoolers whom enjoyed his early output that will dig on this. As much as he says this is a love-letter to New York City of the late 80s, Last Night is equally a love-letter to all those fans that gave Mr. Hall his big break, with the giddy rave vibes oozing from every sonic corner.

Were I allowed to wear my Nostalgia Headphones while reviewing Last Night, it’d easily earn high marks. Even without them, though, there is some gosh-darned good music to be had on here. Take Everyday Is 1989: it’s an incredibly simple track on paper, consisting of rolling pianos, soul-sista’ samples, and string stabs looping over vintage house beats. It should sound old, it should sound dated, it should sound like a bygone relic. Yet every time those pianos emerge - and I do mean every time - my head can’t help but bobble along. There’s a groove to be had here, my friends, and it’s more infectious than most of what’s come out from the house camps in the last few years.

Much of Last Nights works in this regard. Moby keeps things simple and to the point, doesn’t get bogged down in fancy gimmicks or overproduction, and maintains the old-school uplifting spirit throughout much of the album. And while the house cuts like Everyday Is 1989, Disco Lies, and I’m In Love received most of the pre-album buzz, there’s plenty of other EDM genres dabbled in as well. The Stars and 257.Zero tackles the rave end of the spectrum, while I Love To Move In Here adds some hip-house flavor. The latter portion of the album provides an ambient-house touch; however, aside from Sweet Apocalypse, these offerings aren’t nearly as interesting as the rest of Last Night, coming off as mere sonic doodles compared to some of Moby’s more famous downtempo tunes.

For as much as Last Night honors his roots, though, Moby hasn’t completely neglected some of the fresher influences of his discography. Material like the titular track, Ooh Yeah, Live For Tomorrow, and Hyenas finds blending of melancholic pop and lounge, especially so with the hidden bit of jazz tagged on at the end of the finale. Trumping it all though - and even the retro stuff - is Alice, which melds a whole pile of Moby-isms into a single track: blues-shuffle rhythms, squawking guitar licks, guest raps from Nigerian based group 419 Squad, catchy pop hooks... Lodging it smack in the middle of the album definitely helps prevent the whole of it from sounding like too much of a nostalgia love-in.

Ultimately, Moby’s latest is quite probably his most accomplished album since Everything Is Wrong. He may not be doing anything new on here but that’s beside the point - Last Night is the sound of a musician finding himself quite comfortable with his roots again, and proving he is more than capable of producing a song that remains just as timeless as the era it draws influence from. The mainstream media may not understand it (but, oh, they certainly do when R.E.M. does the same thing); long-time fans of electronic dance music will.

Juno Reactor - Labyrinth

Metropolis: 2004

Labyrinth feels like the culmination of years of experimentation coming together, talent finally reaching the vision Juno Reactor saw possible (holy shit, what a pretentious way to open a review...). There were early glimmers of Ben Watkins breaking his project out from bog-standard psy trappings, but it wasn't until Shango where he took his first proper risky steps. It was regarded as... well, I'll get to that eventually. It must have given Watkins a strong shot of confidence though, as Labyrinth goes full bore outside the psy comfort zone as anyone could get.

Right, so part of that was likely getting more soundtrack opportunities, and the success of The Matrix franchise didn’t hurt in giving Juno Reactor more exposure (not to mention greenbacks). It got Watkins thinking bigger and bolder while putting together Labyrinth, as there’s quite a cinematic tone to the whole album. The opening salvo of Conquistador I & II may as well be your first act – the former dark, quiet and moody as the atmosphere of some desolate Spanish landscapes reveals itself, the latter erupting into a big action set piece with those galloping beats, tribal drums, and snarling lyrics (Danny Trejo stars). It’s basically what the opening two cuts off Shango would sound like if they sexed it up and downed LSD-soaked tequila afterwards. Awesome!

The rest of Labyrinth plays out in similar fashion, tracks jamming various genres into a blender, and everything coming out tasty. Want a little more thrash in your Juno? Try Giant, but stay for the operatic vocals too. Still hanker for the old psy? Mona Lisa Overdrive’s got you covered, but with more tribal fusion than you got on Bible Of Dreams. One of the few folks that found Watkins’ best ever single was Pistolero? Here’s War Dogs for your fix, now with backing orchestra! Prefer the mellow moments on prior albums? The one-two soft-punch of Mutant Message and Angels And Men should serve you fine, though the former uses its calm as a prelude to a musical eruption mid-song.

All this is fine and dandy, but everyone knows you save your best for the climax at the end, and Navaras serves as a perfect capper to Labyrinth. Apocalyptic choir, piercing industrial synths and beats, orchestral swells, tribal chants, and a meditative breather in the middle before erupting with the bedlam at the end again. Wait, how am I fighting the final boss of a Final Fantasy game all of a sudden here?

I can see why Mr. Watkins felt compelled to explore ever further deviations from the psy sound he grew popular with on Gods & Monsters - how could he top Labyrinth? Whether it’s the best Juno Reactor album remains open to discussion, as many still prefer the older sound to the genre exploration found in the post-Shango albums, which admittedly continues to be hit or miss. Labyrinth finds the mark about as close to flawless as he’s gotten though, and is definitely worth your time and pennies.

Cheb i Sabbah - La Kahena

Six Degrees Records: 2005

Okay, I needed that break from this blog. Juggling it with near full-time work and scholastic endeavors was just too much to deal with. Brain drain on the job, coupled with necessary research and study for essays, there was nothing left in the think-tank for music reviews, even ones as concise as the ones I write here. This semester’s over now, so let’s get back to electronic music criticism. What’s next in my alphabetical list, then? Cheb i Sabbah’s La Kahena? Uh, what the heck is this? Traditional Middle Eastern music? I don’t know a damn thing about this stuff. I… need to research some of this. Oh, God, no! I beg of you, no more researching! My brain can’t take- *grey matter implodes*

Right, I should have known Six Degrees Records would release just as much proper 'world music' as their world beat offerings, but how was I to know Cheb i Sabbah would put together a project of this nature? I've only known of the chap through his DJ gigs (almost primarily at hippie trance parties), and few scattered productions on regular world dub-beat compilations. It was enough to pique my curiosity enough to pick up La Kahena blind, and hoo, was this something I was not expecting in the slightest.

I won't deny enjoying the music here, but it’s on a 'dumb' level, the sort of basic musical appreciation that comes with most things of a rhythmic, melodic, or harmonic nature. Despite the use of drum programming and synth effects, La Kehena is about as traditional as this music gets. Which tradition, you ask? I... honestly don't know. I'm guessing it's Middle Eastern, though maybe North African too, given it was recorded in Morocco. Bottom line is I have no cultural connection to this album (much less able to understand the language it's sung in), so any significance of content beyond “cool beat, neat sounds, heartfelt passion; me like” is utterly lost on my way-Western sensibilities. Maybe if I do a little resear- *grey matter implodes*

Mr. Sabbah must have strongly believed in the potential of this album, as he rounded up tons of musicians to perform on it (how much he contributes, I haven't a clue). Oh, there's Bill Laswell again, doing bass. Karsh Kale, a Six Degrees alum, also shows up. I don't recognize anyone else here. Hell, I don't even recognize some of the instruments they play. An oud? A ney? You got me, names sounding about as foreign as I'm sure a dobro sounds to folks of Yemen. Whatever they are, I bet they sound good on this 5.1 Dolby mixdown I sadly cannot enjoy (damn paper-thin apartment walls).

Is La Kehena worth your time? Sure, I guess. At worst, it'll expose you to a form of music that's just as lively as anything you'll hear in a club, perhaps more so by tapping into the communal nature of such performances. In the end, it's a great educa- *grey matter implodes*

Vector Lovers - iPhonica

Soma Quality Recordings: 2013

I had no idea Martin Wheeler was still making music. Part of that's my fault, as I failed to keep tabs on his output during the late '00s. For as much I enjoyed his debut album, there was a sense the themes explored would be a one-time shot, interviews for subsequent albums claiming he was in a different frame of mind than before. Yeah, that's musician code-speak for “if you liked my old work, chances are you won't like this newer stuff.” I only glanced at Afterglow and Capsule For One, with little giving me reason to spring for the albums proper. Maybe I will sometime down the road, but as Afterglow came out way back in 2007, I figured the Vector Lovers story was concluded, the 2011 singles collection Electrospective being the final chapter.

Maybe that release generated renewed interest and fresh listeners, because iPhonica came out just this year – it would explain the similar covers. Is it all original material since Electrospective, or had Wheeler been sitting on it unreleased? Indications seem to suggest the former, but there's something very reminiscent of his earliest work on this album, a similar melancholic tone that also ran through Vector Lovers.

His debut was a wonderful excursion through electro-anime ambient and cool robot funk, which interestingly gets linked to acts like Boards Of Canada on its page with Lord Discogs. I never associated Vector Lovers with such music, but I can see why the Lord That Knows All would. There’s a similar feeling of nostalgia in their music, of times past and memories hazily reminisced. Boards Of Canada often recall childhood innocence, Burial of those post-clubbing 5am ventures in deserted urban neighbourhoods; Vector Lovers, especially on iPhonica, conjures up wistful longing for earliest, heartfelt intimacy in a world grown more isolated by technology. With titles like Yesterday Is Gone, Big City Loner, and Sender To Nowhere, how could one not picture mournful glances in city park fountains at twilight (probably with cherry blossom petals billowing in the background)? The aesthetic of Vector Lovers’ music may come off simple and even youthfully naïve at times, but damn if it doesn’t seductively draw you back to those years when youthful naivety was a common, welcome occurrence.

That said, iPhonica comes off rather slight as an album. Most of the tracks are simple little pieces, often finishing just as you're getting warmed to them. And while it does flow reasonably well from beginning to end, it doesn't have the narrative strength prior Vector Lovers albums have, the back end almost drifting by without much notice. Plus, I cannot deny wishing for a few more uptempo numbers, but that's just personal bias (Electrosuite was such a mint tune).

If you're new to Martin Wheeler's project, iPhonica may not be the best diving off point. On the other hand, there's enough musical merit here to at least draw in a few curious listens. Let's hope there's more from Vector Lovers in the near future too.