Ladytron - Light & Magic

Nettwerk: 2002/2011

Electroclash wasn’t even a thing when Ladytron first emerged. They were more interested in recreating the late ‘70s new wave aesthetic, inspired by musical works of The Human League and the performances of Kraftwerk. When ‘everyone’ picked up on that whole ‘80s revival thing, however, the four-piece synth-poppers got roped in along with sleaze-meisters like Miss Kittin, Felix da Housecat and DJ Hell’s International Deejay Gigolos. Who cares if the lyrical content couldn’t be further worlds apart, all those vintage synths and drum machines is the link the binds them together. Right, like how using a TB-303 makes acid house and psy trance the exact same thing.

Anyhow, once the electroclash hullabaloo began its predicted recession, Ladytron re-emerged with their sophomore effort, Light & Magic. If folks figured the group would succumb to that scene’s irony-soaked topics and kitsch, they were poorly mistaken (and likely didn’t get what Ladytron was all about anyway). There’s a couple observations of the soullessness of fashion-obsessed vanity (Seventeen touches on the disposable nature of the photo industry), but by and large we’re dealing with melancholic relationships and relative emptiness in a digitized world. It’s 1982 all over again, baby!

So while the topics are similar to their debut, the tone is not. A charming innocence often ran through the first album’s songs, as though Ladytron struggled to make sense of all these weird emotions leaking from their robotic façade (having Helen Marnie’s lisping, whispering coo of a voice handle most of the lyrical duty certainly helped sell the image). A little older and mature now, Light & Magic has them clearly aware of what’s going on in relationships, and coming away rather cynical in the process, properly sold with detached vocoders and effects throughout (God, I can barely even hear Helen in the titular cut). Well, probably. Ladytron’s lyrics are usually intentionally vague, equally working at a surface level or with deeper intent. Good pop music, in other words.

And speaking of music, the synths and beats are much slicker and beefier without losing any of the retro-charm that made them synth-pop delights. Damn, the way some of these choral chord changes force their way into your ears is insidious. Seventeen’s is an obvious highlight, being that it was the lead single for the album, but Light & Magic, The Reason Why and Evil are no slouches either. As for the actual music, Ladytron run the gamut from icy-cool electro (Turn It On, Re: Agents, Cease2xist, and Black Plastic, sounding more like a Kitten & Hacker cut), chipper, rocky techno (True Mathematics, Nuhorizons), booming baroque (Startup Chime), and is that a touch of the old-school house I hear in Flicking Your Switch?

If Ladytron’s charms have yet to win you over, this album probably won’t convert you, as the pop potential of their sound is subdued compared to other releases. In fact, it took me a bit to warm to Light & Magic, but I can never resist Helen’s voice for long. *swoon*

The Future Sound Of London - Lifeforms (EP)

Astralwerks: 1994

Oh yeah, there was also a track called Lifeforms on Lifeforms, which became a single from Lifeforms. Fortunately, I can talk all about Lifeforms on this EP titled Lifeforms, so nothing was lost in bypassing Lifeforms on Lifeforms. This opening is funnier if you read-sing it like Data in Star Trek: Generations. “Lifeforms, you silly little lifeforms...”

Poor Virgin. They go and sign The Future Sound Of London, likely believing the duo a high prize in the early ‘electronica’ sweepstakes. With such a massive hit like Papua New Guinea to their credit, plus oodles more under other guises and remixes, surely the FSOL would put Virgin at the forefront of trendy club culture. Well, nuts to that, said Cobain and Dougans, they wanted to get all conceptual and shit for their major label debut. Fair enough, just make a couple singles available for Virgin to promote and- wait, FSOL are making the EPs themselves? But we had all these remixers planned already: one for the House Mix, one for the Progressive House mix, and one for the Techno Mix. Not even one for the Hardcore Mix? Dammit, FSOL, who do you think you are, artists?

Lifeforms (the track) was about as club-friendly as anything got on Lifeforms (the album ...ugh, this is getting confusing), so tapping it for single duty made sense. As the FSOL preferred turning their EPs into mini-albums in their own right, we’re offered seven different ‘paths’ taken on the Lifeforms idea. Beyond familiar nature sound effects, most of these paths bare scant resemblance to the album version (Path 3). Path 1, for instance, is mostly an ambient affair with water drums, droning industrial synths, and a chant that I don’t recall hearing in the album. Path 2, meanwhile, comes off more urgent and twitchy, throwing in different acoustic and wind instruments as a tense bassline bubbles and builds underneath – it rather sounds like an extended incidental moment from the album, and it wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest if that was the case.

Path 4 and Path 5 are the real highlights though. Both are refined takes on Life Form Ends (itself an alternate version of Lifeforms on Lifeforms), each exploring the expansive soundscapes FSOL enjoy indulging in, all the while excellent drum programming keeps things moving at a brisk pace. It’s the Papua New Guinea template taken to another level, if not in dancefloor effectiveness, then in conceptual execution (God, does that ever sound pretentious).

Path 6 serves as a minor interlude repeating sounds heard in the prior couple paths, and Path 7 bookends the EP with a similar tune to Path 1, but with more sounds and beats added from the other tracks. So a tidy conclusion to Lifeforms, the EP, and though not as varied as Lifeforms, the LP, it makes for a worthy companion piece. Kind of a closer study of some specific organisms you might have encountered while travelling the weird, wild world FSOL created with the album proper.

The Future Sound Of London - Lifeforms

Virgin Music: 1994

The Future Sound Of London always struck me as an odd group, and as I didn't come around to them until their Dead Cities period, I had some catching up to do. The club-friendly material off Accelerator was an easy introduction to the sounds they were capable of, but Lifeforms seemed daunting. A double-LP with nary a recognizable hit in the tracklist? Goodness, what's a young raver taking his first, tentative steps into this weird, wide electronic music world to do? I mean, this must be a good album, if all those old-schoolers are loving it, though they don't talk of it as much as Papua New Guinea or We Have Explosives. Still, really cool looking cover art...

So yeah, Lifeforms was the last of the First Three FSOL albums I picked up, but it wasn’t that long after getting the other two; thus, I’ve had plenty of time to listen, re-listen, analyze, contemplate, and understand Dougans and Cobain’s weird ambient opus. I’m still working on that. For that matter, who isn’t? I wouldn’t go so far as to say Lifeforms is a hopelessly complex piece of abstract music, as the basic concept is straight-forward enough: raid all the nature sample libraries, mesh it with ambient house and trip-hop of the day, take a ton of drugs [citation needed], and see what springs forth from the muse.

Even that doesn’t seem too far removed from what The Orb was doing, but whereas Dr. Patterson had a playfully chill outlook to his music, FSOL have larger ideas on mind. I honestly don’t know if this was their intent, but the concept in Lifeforms I’ve gleaned over the years is each disc tells a different story of evolution: CD1 the primordial growth to complex organisms, CD2 the arrival of higher intelligence and future-shock technology.

I’m risking turning this review into a graduate thesis, so I’ll make my explanation brief. Aside from the interlude Bird Wings, disc one typically has natural sounds running through it: gentle washing pianos, tribal drums, bells, un-manipulated chants and animal calls. The clincher, however, is the benign nature of the music on this first half. Lovely melodies in Cascade, haunting synths in Ill Flower and Dead Skin Cells, and even a sense of innocent playfulness in Flak and Among Myselves. The Garden of Eden is a wonderful place to be.

Not so in disc two. As almost a parody of advancing intellect, FSOL open with a brief, ominous version of Pachelbel’s Canon and Gigue in D Major. From there, harsh bleeps emerge in Spineless Jelly, and we’re on our way into a dystopian outlook of nature for the duration. True, there are lovely moments still found (Omnipresence, Elaborate Burn), but always coupled with aggressive electronics. We’re a far cry from the tranquility of CD1.

It makes Lifeforms no less captivating, even if many of the interludes are just effects wibble. Check it out, and discover what weird things come to your mind.

Asura - Life² (Original TC Review)

Ultimae Records: 2007

(2014 Update:
This was my first exposure to Ulitmae, and does this review ever show it. That is, I knew absolutely nothing about the label, so barely bring them up at all; plenty of research into Asura, however. Interestingly enough, even from the start, I was bemoaning the lack of journalistic coverage these guys were getting, though perhaps in a more confrontational way than I do now. Not much else to add to this review, though like much of my old stuff, a little wordy in places.

'Tis funny, my covering of Life² was practically by random chance. I was in the process of giving my old TranceCritic writing partner, Jack Moss, a rather ineffectual pep-talk, as he was going through review writer's doldrums, dissatisfied with new material to cover in 2007. I urged him to take a chance on something unknown, perhaps discovering gold in the process. As an example, I fired up Juno Records and, browsing through their new releases, clicked the first cover which caught my eye, which happened to be this. "There," I told him, "why not review this CD? Looks interesting." He wasn't convinced at the time, but the samples piqued my curiosity further, so I went about getting it for myself to review instead. Ultimae has gone on to be a favorite label for both of us, though it was likely an eventuality regardless of that first arbitrary exposure.)


IN BRIEF: Don’t you dare miss this one.

I think I’m going to go right ahead and straight-off declare this album a front-runner for Criminally Overlooked Releases In 2007. It seems unavoidable, really. Already there are factors limiting its success, despite the music contained being exquisite: tiny French label few are aware of; paltry promotional power; general lack of awareness for the name Asura; a form of music folks tend to be afraid to take a chance on these days due to the overabundance of downtempo bilge souring tastes for it.

Well, that’s not entirely accurate. The psy scene has unofficially adopted Asura into their ranks, despite the fact the man behind the project, Charles Farewell, has never really claimed to be a part of it. And although he’s produced some music that easily fits into the psy chill category, Asura covers a far broader sonic canvas than mere trippy synthy soundscapes.

I’m getting ahead of myself, aren’t I? Let me backtrack a bit.

Although the brainchild of Mr. Farewell, there have been a few other names tied to the project over the years. However, on this third album, Farewell has gone at it solo, and raised the question if he’d be able to handle the marriage of organic and synthetic instrumentation that had become the group’s recognized style. Titled Life², the album makes for an incredibly strong argument in his favor.

Opener Golgotha will have you wondering if you even have an electronic album on. Thunderous percussion, somber symphonic swells, ethereal woodwinds, and haunting chants all combine to create something out of an epic biblical soundtrack; without the heavy-handiness such epics are often victim of, mind. It’s a gripping piece of music though, grabbing your attention right out of the gate.

Back To Light brings the synths and sequencers into focus, with many organic sounds wrapped around them. What may strike you as a bit odd, though, is just how plastic the beats sound. Considering the richly textures of everything else, it’s a bizarre contrast, yet fits within the context of the music just the same. The song itself? Lovely; stirring; exhilarating, especially in the second half where the rhythms turn breakbeat rather than steady... I could ramble on a number of adjectives, but I’d end up using them all up way too soon in this review, and this is only the second track.

Diversity is also the name of the game when it comes to Asura. Recalling the old synth composers of the ‘70s at their best, Galaxies Part One makes use of cascading soundscapes and pulsing melodies as soft gentle rhythms and chants float in the background. The second part, meanwhile, has a more modern take on this style, with urgency in its melodies, moodier synths, and grumbling dubby beats carrying it along. And unlike many ambient pieces, there’s never a sense of aimless meandering; it’s a meticulous path the way Farewell has written his music. Even The Prophecy, which even at seven plus minutes in length comes off more like an interlude in the album’s flow, has more going for it than a mere somber sonic doodle.

Of course, Farewell wouldn’t be known to the psy community unless he dabbled in that style too. Celestial Tendencies, Butterfly FX, and the title track pick up the pace, dipping into more proggy territory. There’s chunky acid burbling in the background, various synthy pads, electronic effects, tasteful vocal samples, and ethnic instruments sprinkled in for good measure to keep you constantly grounded. And while these tracks aren’t quite as evocative as the slower songs, they nonetheless manage to stir the soul with just as much finesse while providing something heavier to groove on.

There’s a couple more on here I could talk about too, but I’ll leave it up to you to find out how they sound - why should I spoil the surprise, after all (I will say the final track is a perfect capper) ? However, of important mention is how Life² is a complete package as an album. Everything flows seamlessly together, creating a gripping listening experience beginning to end. Typically, disparate tempo changes between songs can throw a wrench into things on other albums, but it works perfectly fine here, coming off like chapters rather than separate individual parts.

And all this probably doesn’t mean a lick to all but the most adventurous anyway. Well, maybe the psy scene will be more boned up on this release, but the rest of you. Yes, YOU! The one that doesn’t believe it, that Life² couldn’t possibly be as great as I say it is. Where is, after all, the love from the major players in this industry? Why hasn’t there been a glowing exposé in the magazines? How come there isn’t a ton of buzz online in all the trendy forums?

Honestly, I haven’t a clue why, but this isn’t an uncommon occurrence. Many fine albums slip through the cracks, often rediscovered by hunters of great music in later years. If this is to be Asura’s fate, so be it. In the meantime, those who have found Life² in their players shall have their ears richly rewarded.

Various - Life: Styles - Coldcut

Harmless: 2004

It's a shame the Life: Styles series didn't last long. There was a clever idea going for it among all the other 'electronic producers show off their record collections' market, in that it featured personally influential songs that weren't specifically themed (afterhours, chill-out, early crate exposures). Right, mixtape action then. That’s fine, but apparently not much of interest in the overstuffed compilation market of the '00s. And now that online playlists, mixtapes, and podcasts offer much of the same, CDs like Life: Styles are all but good as dead. Damn it, I was kinda hoping to find more of these someday.

If their tracklists are anything to go by, they'd make for handy bluffer's guides to funk, soul, jazz, and '70s curiosities. Coldcut are no exception, though as the duo from Ninja Tune had a raging hard-on for all things break-beat orientated, you can expect some interesting funk choices for their contribution to Life: Styles. For instance, More and Black claim they picked up Betty Harris' There's A Break In The Road for the sole reason of the title. Yep, in their never-ending pursuit of new 'breaks' to sample and use in their DJing, they went into a slice of soul-jazz blind, thinking a fresh drum solo could be found within. Boy, have I ever done that kind of shopping before, though almost entirely based on covers rather than titles.

There’s about eight other funky tunes on here, though likely only the last two will be immediately familiar to most (The Temptations’ Power and Otis Clay’s The Only Way Is Up). I’m more interested in the funk-fusion numbers, like Chowen Few’s Do Your Thing (reggae!) and The Galylads’ Soul Sister (um, soul?), but they’re all cool tunes regardless.

There’s also quite a bit of French connection music on offer too. Richard de Bordeaux & Daniel Beretta drum up some psychedelic francophone rock in La Drogue (he, he, I think they said “hashish”), Axel Krygier goes down the trip-hop road in Taxi Nocturno (yeah, it’s not all old musics here), and early jazz ‘n electronics dabbler Bernard Estardy shows up under his La Formule Du Baron guise, though La Gigouille’s a straight-up funk jam in this case.

And now for the oddities! Well, okay, T La Rock & Jazzy Jay’s It’s Yours isn’t odd in the slightest, but the Def Jam classic sure stands out as odd in a compilation filled with music other than hip-hop – guess Coldcut wanted to show the ‘breaks’ connection? The track preceding it, Cornershop’s The Easy Winners, is certainly an odd one, a sort of future electro-funk offering from what Lord Discogs claims to be an indie rock band. Ah, they bandwagon jumped during the ‘electronica’ boom, didn’t they. But no, the real highlight for goofy nonsense is none other than Archie Bleyer’s Hernandoz Hideaway, something of a minor hit in the mid-‘50s, and all tango-camp. I guarantee once you hear that hook (even in sampled form), you’ll have it stuck there forever after.

Hardfloor - The Life We Choose (Original TC Review)

Hardfloor: 2007

(2014 Update:
Guess it shouldn't come as a surprise, but the mid-'00s 'minimal techno are serious musics' tropes in Itz OK and Swiffer sound totally dated, whereas the rest of The Life We Choose's groovy acid techno doesn't sound dated at all. Strange, in that you'd think acid in general would sound dated, but the little silver box creates such weird, unique sounds that's yet to be topped in electronic music, I don't think it'll ever become dated. The stuff surrounding it, on the other hand...

Anyhow, this album passed by with little fanfare, though I did get to catch Hardfloor on tour while they were promoting it. I swear the crowd had no idea what any of the tracks off here were when they played them, the biggest reactions naturally coming from hearing the classics and nothing else. So it goes.)


IN BRIEF: Sing, acid, sing.

Alright, admit it: how many of you knew there was a new Hardfloor album out? Heck, for that matter, how many of you even knew Hardfloor were still around? It’s been a long while since their mid-90s peak on Harthouse, and despite their continued dominance of the Roland TB-303, the German duo hardly receive the same amount of fanfare they once did. Still, their absence from the general clubbing consciousness has yet to slow them down, as they keep plugging along, doing what they do best, pleasing their fans all the same.

And making the little acid box sing continues to be their forté. Ol’ Oliver and Ramon have been accused of not moving with the times but there is something to be said for sticking to your strengths too. Yes, acid hasn’t been in vogue for at least a decade and though it may be seeing something of a resurgence lately, it’s doubtful the sound will ever be as commercially viable as before. This grants Hardfloor a certain freedom when they make their music, as their productions are not weighed down by what is expected of them but rather how well they still do it.

So if you expect their seventh full-length of original material to offer anything groundbreaking or new, you may as well forget it. The Life We Choose sounds just as comfortable being in the mid-90s as it does hanging out in this year of ‘07. Much of Hardfloor’s equipment remains the same, so most of the sounds used stays within a rather limited sonic scope.

Most of these tracks follow a simple pattern: rhythm is laid out, a couple of acid lines emerge, and perhaps some additional dressing like pads complement them along the way. With spacey reverb and subtle tweaks, a typical tune works a slow build from beginning to end as Hardfloor work the 303 like a guitarist would work an improvisational solo. On paper, it may not sound like much, but the duo have an uncanny knack of hooking you in once an acid line appears, and the ride it takes you on is always a rewarding one. As much of a fucking cliché as it is to say it, these straight-forward acid tunes are more about the journey than the destination.

There are a few tunes that break the mold. Itz Ok and Swiffer are more in vein of the kind of techno you might see the hands of the Minus crew, including pitched-down vocals on Itz Ok that are rather trendy. They’re satisfactory offerings but aren’t terribly unique from what else is out there, and Hardfloor’s trademark acid work is mostly relegated to inconsequential atmosphere. Elsewhere, the duo take a stab with electro on The Life We Choose and chill vibes on Apollo & Zeus, with better results. I suppose its fine for them to branch out a little into sounds that are more contemporary; can’t get stuck in a rut after all.

But y’know what? Who needs bandwagon jumping and questionable innovation and needless experimentation? When Hardfloor work the acid into effective groovers, subtle builders, and ecstatic squealers, it’s like they’re slipping into the most comfortable of rolls; a natural talent where even though we’ve heard it many times before, it still delivers winningly just the same. It’s like when Snoop Dogg does his playa’ shtick. Or Neil Young doing his grungy folk. Or Jim Carey performing physical comedy. Or Martin Scorsese directing a mobster movie. Or Michael Bolton being a twat with bad hair. They are near-peerless in these chosen fields, and Hardfloor is the same with groovy acid techno.

The Life We Choose isn’t going to set the techno world on fire. Nor is it an album that will propel Hardfloor back into the spotlight. The duo have done better in the past but this is no slouch either. This is the sound of a pair of producers who continue plugging along at their own game despite the seas of change around them in continuous turmoil. And for fans of the TB-303, they wouldn’t have it any other way.

Beastie Boys - Licensed To Ill

Def Jam Recordings: 1986/1996

A landmark album of sorts, it proved you could trick white frat boys into liking that ‘black’ ‘rap’ ‘music’, provided it was bundled with as cliché a cock-rock anthem as you could make in the ‘80s. I think that was the point, Fight For Your Right an intentional parody of said culture, but of course the meat-headed jocks of the world wouldn’t get it. In fact, ask the Beastie Boys about their inspiration in creating Licensed To Ill, and they'll claim the whole album is one big joke. It's certainly goofy, I'll give it that, but for a collection of bratty hip-hop fronted by three white teenagers, it's held up remarkably well.

Does it have the stunning production later Beastie LPs hold? No, the technology just wasn't there in the mid-'80s, much less for a start-up label being run by some former punk guy who'd seemingly lucked out in signing future stars like LL Cool J and... okay, so only LL and the Beasties were the rising stars in Def Jam's early years; Slayer, too. Point is the bearded one Rubin didn't have much to work with other than bare-bones 808 rhythms, oodles of rock records to pilfer hooks and samples for, and a knack for a hook that complemented the Beastie Boys' back-and-forth raps. Already a successful formula for Run DMC, Licensed To Ill took the 'rock-n-hop' template to commercial heights never before seen, almost exclusively thanks to having a hit single that had nothing to do with hip-hop. Fortunately, The New Style, She’s Crafty, Rhymin & Stealin, and No Sleep Till Brooklyn prove it was a formula that could be milked more than once.

Even then, ol’ Rick and the Boys throw in a few clever tracks so Mr. 808 doesn’t get tiresome. Posse In Effect has a fun electro-snare splash going on, Paul Revere craftily loops its drum breaks in reverse, honking horns form the hook in Brass Monkey (that funky monkey junkie!), and pitched-up marching bells get lodged in your noggin’ after hearing Girls. Good stuff, given the limited sonics on display, and that’s not even getting into all the turntable scratches and cut-up samples throughout the album (most prominent though, in Time To Get Ill).

Then there’s the Boys themselves, showing mad skills on the mics- well, no, not really. We’re a long ways away from any sort of lyrical genius on Licensed To Ill, most songs consisting of shouting, call-and-response, and punk ‘singing’. Hey, it’s what MCA, Mike D, and King Ad-Rock had a prior background in, Rubin convincing them to also adopt raps into their arsenal. Though their punch lines are often witty (I always get a kick out of Ad-Rock’s lyrics in Girls), it’s still juvenile humour, a long ways away from the maturity found in their following albums.

For that reason, I can’t take Licensed To Ill seriously, but then neither did the Beastie Boys. Perhaps that’s how it’s never lost its charm, no matter how old I’ve grown.

Aes Dana - Leylines

Ultimae Records: 2009

Vincent Villuis has put together one of the best ambient and downtempo labels I've come across, and thus I have a great amount of respect for him; yet I struggle to get into his Aes Dana material. It’s not a matter of quality, as his music checks off all the things I enjoy of this genre (lush soundscapes, clever instrumentation, captivating atmosphere, the Ultimae Mixdown™). Unfortunately, Mr. Villuis has done such an impeccable job of gathering talent to Ultimae, he’s often overshadowed by them. Solar Fields, Asura, Carbon Based Lifeforms, holy cow, what a roster! Even his collaborative work with Solar Fields as H.U.V.A. Network is beyond stellar.

So why the problem with Aes Dana? I suppose it boils down to the minimalistic nature of his music. Villuis doesn’t often evoke the same uplifting emotional response his label chums do, perhaps a result of his industrial background. While not cold or uninviting as most industrialists go, there is a noticeable trend of it throughout the Aes Dana project, a nod to the dark ambient tone that scene embraces.

I haven’t heard every album under this banner (dang it, Ultimae, we need another round of re-issues), so I don’t know whether Leylines is the darkest Aes Dana album. Damn though, for an Ultimae LP, it’s dark. Oxyd oozes sinister strings and glitchy percussion as a thudding heart beats in the background, all of which complimented with gentle, disconcerting bells. Heights features disembodied voices and haunting orchestral arrangements, as though echoing off cathedral halls. And Signs is about as dark and ethereal as dark ambient gets. Even the uptempo cut Lysistrata has trademarks of industrial, utilizing a bassline that wouldn’t sound out of place on an EBM record. If Delerium had continued making music of this sort rather than seeking the bankable New Age market instead, I’ve little doubt they’d be producing what’s found on Leylines.

On the other hand, a number of Ultimae tropes do crop up. Tracks like Bam, Blossom, and Inter check off many requisite psy-dub sounds amongst the droning synths. Meanwhile, the whole middle section, including Lysistrata, is made up of that distinct slow-trance style the label practically made their staple, often coupled with moody synths and world-beat effects. Hey, I love this stuff, but I won’t deny it all sounding similar in bunches, a subtle, sonic soup one can easily pass by without much care. If you’ve heard enough Ultimae, you’ll recognize many of the sounds and arrangements Villuis creates here. And as he does prefer the minimalistic route in his music, the lack of strong melodic hooks leaves Leylines lagging behind the label’s best albums.

Not the highest recommendation for Aes Dana’s fourth, then, though only if you’ve yet to take the Ultimae plunge (I say again, what on Earth are you waiting for!?). Leylines is an enjoyable album on its own merits, a suitable musical companion for introspective times and places. A necessary addition to one’s chill-out collection, however, it is not.

Raekwon - The Lex Diamond Story

Universal Records: 2003

Only Built For Cuban Linx is a classic, of that there's no debate; Part 2, released in 2009, was heralded as the follow-up everyone hoped of Raekwon. Unfortunately, no one knew whether we'd get such a sequel, so fans of Mr. Todd's music made do with what was sporadically offered instead. When it came out, Raekwon's third was received warmly enough, if not as a return to form then at least a decent effort. That perception's somewhat changed though in recent years. Unlike other 2000s LPs from the Wu-Tang, The Lex Diamond Story seems to be receding further from the collective hip-hop memory.

As an assortment of 2003 eastcoast criminology rap, Lex Diamond suffices. There aren't many surprises on the production front, though the tone does frequently jump from track to track – guess that's the price one pays for no longer having RZA providing all the beats. Instead, names like Brutal Bill, Andy C (no, not that Andy C), Crummie Beats, Zephla, Hangman 3, Ez Elpee, and Mizza handle the decks. Um, I don't know any of these names – I think I heard of Crummie Beats somewhere, but Lord Discogs lists Lex Diamond as his (their?) only entry, so I may just be blowing hipster smoke. Whatever, everyone involved (and nearly every track has a different producer credit) pretty much work with cinematic or jazz-n-soul loops and samples that'd been an eastcoast staple for over a decade by that point. Again, fine for the tone Rae' wants for this album (street raps by his street gangsta persona), but nothing particularly innovative for that year.

In fact, the few tracks that do break mode stand out from the rest for that very reason. That doesn't mean they're good tunes though. Ice Cream, Pt. 2 seems like a bad idea on paper – don't mess with a classic, right? - but DJ Khalid (who's done work for Dr. Dre's Aftermath print) provides a charming, silly cut for Rae', Method Man, and Cappadonna to once again use tasty frozen treats as pick up lines. Mike “Punch” Harper, on the other hand, creates a synth-heavy club jam on Wyld In Da Club, also featuring Raekwon's then-new pet project Ice Water Inc. (what happened to American Cream Team?). It sounds like a total trend-jump and in both cases, I wonder how either of them relates to a story about Lex Diamond's crime days.

And really, that's where this album suffers and quite possibly will continue to be relegated to forgotten solo-Wu joints. Say what you want about Immobilarity, but like both Cuban Linx, it maintains its theme for most of its running time – it feels like you're listening to proper long player. The Lex Diamond Story doesn't, often jumping from a Lex-related story to something totally unrelated. The final track - Once Upon A Time with somber pianos and singing from Tekitha (such a soulful voice) – is an admirable effort to tie everything together, but it's not enough.

King Cannibal - Let The Night Roar (2014 Update)

Ninja Tune: 2009

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.)


It took me some time in finding dubstep I could get behind. There was the dancehall influenced stuff, sure, and also the material Burial put out that was retroactively called ‘post-dubstep’ or ‘future-garage’ or whatever. Yet something straight-forward with the signature half-step beat and wobble basslines? Dear Lord, no! Too much of it struck me as gimmicky nonsense (even before brostep ever got popular), and while I’ll grant my general exposure to it during the late ‘00s wasn’t the best (for the love of God, stop playing those same Benga and Coki tracks over and over), there wasn’t much incentive for me to dig further.

Then I heard King Cannibal’s Flower Of Flesh And Blood. It wasn’t one of those “OMG, EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS GENRE/MUSICIAN IS THE GREATEST THING EVER!” moments – and yes, I have had tons of those over the years. Heck, it wasn’t even one of those “Ah, now I ‘get’ dubstep” moments. I got dubstep quite early on, as it’s a very simple form of music to get in the first place. What this track did, however, was prove to yours truly that dubstep could, in fact, not only be good, but really damn good!

Yeah, yeah, the Hyperdub print kinda-sorta already did that, but I’m talking about the visceral thrills all the bro-steppers were going off on about. Flower Of Flesh And Blood has the same cavernous snare hits, the growling mid-range basslines (though rather similar to jungle tech-step), and an aim squarely at massive crowds. It’s also properly dark and nasty, not like all those try-hard attempts the likes of Excision and Datsik were offering – like the difference between Slayer and …anyone trying to be Slayer.

Maybe it helped that King Cannibal’s debut album wasn’t strictly a dubstep affair, though definitely owing much to the UK bass scene. With emphasis on the grimier aspects of the music than cheap thrills, Let The Night Roar has held up remarkably well while so much other dubstep of the time remains stuck in that era. Good ol’ Ninja Tune, they sure know how to pick ‘em, and if you missed out on this album the first time around, it wouldn’t hurt for you to give it a second chance. Unless, of course, you figure Borgore the height of dubstep sophistication.

And what of Le Cannibale De Roi? He released a Ninja Tune tribute mix the following year, titled The Way Of The Ninja. It features two-hundred fifty tracks from the label within seventy-four minutes of madness. The… fuck…!!? (!) I’m tempted to scope that out, for sure. As for Mr. Dylan Richards, his output dried up following Let The Night Roar. The… double-fuck…!!? (!!) What happened there? Did his Ninja Tune deal end? Is Lord Discogs being dishonest with me? Apparently he released an album called Kill The Lights as House Of Black Lanterns last year on Houndstooth. From what I’ve heard of it, it’s… different, I’ll give it that.