The Bug - London Zoo (Original TC Review)

Ninja Tune: 2008

(2014 Update:
Oh dear, is poor, poor 2008 Sykonee ever unaware of what else was happening in dubstep, outside the MetaCritic narrative anyway. Little did I know it would be tracks by Rusko, Coki, and Benga, seemingly novelty wub-wub cuts, that would dominate dubstep's future. Fortunately, acts like Burial, Martyn, and even The Bug were retroactively reclassified as other branches of UK garage, thus properly being distanced by fans and commentators from all the bro-drop nonsense to follow. Guess that dates this review a little, in that it was still that transitional phase where lines were being drawn, but had I been following dubstep's development from the beginning, I'd have known of these differences already. Yeah, well, it took most American-side folks even longer than it did your's truly to figure it out, and I was just beginning to give it a chance in 2008. No blame.

Kevin Martin hasn't been terribly busy on the production front since releasing London Zoo, a smattering of singles all to his name. Following up such a critically hailed album must hold some pressure on the long-time UK dancehall tastemaker, but if he continues down the acid road as he explored with last year's Hardcore Lover, here's hoping another ace LP is in the works.)


IN BRIEF: Delightfully deviant dancehall.

A year ago, a then anonymous Burial helped propel a then anonymous young genre called dubstep into wide recognition. His sophomore effort, Untrue, was not only hailed as a classic by those within its scene, but by nearly everyone who came within earshot of it as well. And something that I’m sure no one could have ever predicted, it sits atop the best albums of 2007 at Metacritic (interestingly, sharing the spot with The Field’s From Here We Go Sublime; who said electronic music was dead?). Surely though, that was just a once-in-a-blue-moon occurrence. After all, dubstep itself is far too urban, simplistic, and London-based to have any real impact beyond its core fans of jungle refugees, spliff-heads, and inner-city stylists, right?

For a good part of 2008, it appeared such a claim would hold true; very few dubstep producers that suddenly came out of the woodworks seemed capable of matching Burial’s impact. Then practically out of nowhere, longtime reggae and dancehall tastemaker Kevin Martin (The Bug) released his third album to much critical acclaim, such that, as of this writing, it currently sits atop Metacritic’s best albums of 2008. Considering it shares the honor with a retrospective from influential cut-n-paste hip-hop producer Steinski, that’s an impressive feat - an album of fresh material standing toe-to-toe with a double-disc of back-catalogue. With less than two months left in the year, it looks as though dubstep is set to be riding a critical high into the New Year once again.

Is it warranted though? Sure, the music is undoubtedly the freshest to emerge in some time but could all the critical praise for it be nothing more than a “nu-genre” honeymoon? After all, isn’t dubstep just a bunch of half-step beats, gratuitous dub reverb, displaced jungle basslines, and crackly white-noise fluff? Nay, mon - The Bug proves there’s a great deal one can do with the sound.

Truth be told, London Zoo isn’t a strict dubstep album; rather, Martin’s roots in, er, roots is the dominate focus, with the rich history of Jamaican-influenced music bursting through every pocket. Yeah, yeah… what’s with Britain co-opting their former colony’s culture for their own use, you quibble. [TranceCritic]’s been over this one plenty enough, so let’s not get into it; just accept that there are Jamaican transplants in the UK, such that themes of Jah and fights against oppression sounds just as pertinent here as on any Marley or Perry record.

Besides, with Martin’s skill behind the knobs injecting dubstep’s futuristic aesthetic into the works, classic dancehall jams are re-invigorated for the modern era with brilliant results. Even if you’ve never fancied the sound, the wobbly, punctual rhythms and grimey atmospherics will grab your attention right out of the gate and hold it until the final obligatory ‘repent, for Judgement Day is nigh’ finale. And that bass. Good God (Jah?), that bass! Every track’s bassline is totally unique from the other, easily putting to rest any qualms that “this stuff all sounds the same”. Sometimes it’s a low rumble but other times, like in Fuckaz and Skeng, it roars like some kind of Imperial Star Destroyer engine, with drops that’ll ensnare even the most conservative folk; the dancers that literally wobble to this stuff undoubtedly do so because these low frequencies liquefy bones, turning dancehall punters into masses of jelly.

Of course, no dancehall album is complete without some toasting on the mic, and The Bug has rounded up quite the cast of MCs to complement his tracks. Old standbys like Tippa Irie, Aya, and Ricky Ranking are in as fine of form as ever, but it’s members of the newer cast of dancehall toasters that steal the show. Aggressive chants from Flowdan and Warrior Queen, ominous spoken-word from Killa P, wobbly spitting from Spaceape, and cool crooning from Roger Robinson all combine to make London Zoo as much a showcase for all their individual talents as it is an outlet for Martin’s productions. There’s a sense of urgency in all their voices, as though they realize this is their biggest opportunity to let the world know just how vigorous dancehall MCing can be. They don’t disappoint in this regard.

In case it isn’t clear by now, London Zoo is certainly deserving of the critical praise that’s been handed to it. Even if you’ve never heard of The Bug (a large number of you, I reckon) and these Jamaican influenced sounds have only brought confused glances to your face (a lesser amount of you, I hope), this album should still find its way into your collection. It’s musically fresh, wonderfully paced (strong openers, classy middle, rousing climax), and proves dubstep – in all its forms - remains a genre to keep an ear open for.

Loreena McKennitt - Live In Paris And Toronto

Quinlan Road: 1999

When I lived in the hinterlands of Canada, I rented in a house with various other roomers who'd come and go. As I was the one with a decent stereo, my gear took up residence in the living room, where I'd often load the 3-CD tray with my own music. Fair enough, as my housemates shared similar tastes, what with being 'Rupert Ravers' and all. Every so often though, I'd play a combination of albums that threw them for a loop. One such day included a run of some EDM (I forget which now), the Hieroglyphics LP 3rd Eye Blind (“homie-b” music, the girl living with us called it), followed by this particular album from ethereal Celtic-folk artist Loreena McKennitt. They remarked how little sense it made for me to have such bizarre range of interest (for a 20 year old, anyway), and while hip-hop still had some connection to EDM, how did Loreena fit the puzzle of my interests?

It was likely my mother's influence, who was into Enya and all that New Age stuff when it broke into the early ‘90s mainstream (yeah yeah, total cliché there). Enigma was also a part of her musical rotation of the time, which led to ambient and world beat I still enjoy, but another act she liked was Loreena McKennitt. I... didn't quite latch onto her the same way, though my sister did. Hm, guess that makes sense, Enigma's 'tough' beats appealing to male sensibilities (no, stay with me on this theory!), and Ms. McKennitt's harps and singing more of a chick’s thing. What gender stereotypes?

Okay, sorry for that lengthy, anecdotal introduction. I felt it necessary to explain why, on a blog called Electronic Music Critic, there's also a live Loreena McKennitt album here. I've strayed off the EDM path often, but this must be the furthest I’ve gone yet. I don’t think there are any other ethereal Celtic folk-pop records in my collection, so at least it’s a one-off.

For those unaware of McKennitt, she gained international fame mostly through association with the New Age market. While her music is definitely of an Irish and Celtic tradition, she imbued her music with mystical qualities that set herself apart from staunch traditionalists, an incredibly appealing attribute for ladies into fantasy works and that; the guys had their Viking metal, the girls got their Arthurian romanticism (was this all Excaliber’s fault?). While having a deal with Warner Music gave McKennitt greater exposure (especially here in Canada, where the Winnipeg native enjoyed plenty of Canadian Content rotation), she’s remained an independent artist, self-producing and publishing her music through her own Quinlan Road print. Proper underground t’ings, mon! (whoops, wrong sub-culture)

There’s plenty more to her story, but I’m not the best person to detail it. Maybe try Ethereal Celtic Music Critic. All you need to know from my end is I liked her music enough to get a live album of it (essentially a greatest hits package), and that’s about it.

Neil Young - Live At Massey Hall 1971

Reprise Records: 2007

The idea of resurrecting old live gigs was definitely tantalizing to Neil Young fans, given the rumours of how much mint material remained untapped and unheard by public ears in decades. Yet while the first release of this series, Live At The Fillmore East, was cool for what it was, it still felt slight, barely a cursory glance of those particular shows. While I doubt folks would be disappointed if the Performance Series carried on that way, some had to wonder if the format could be improved upon.

Whether by coincidence or design, they got their answer in the second volume, Live At Massey Hall. This show was deemed so good by Young’s long-time producer David Briggs that he pleaded it be released rather than Harvest. Young decided against it, but considering how popular that album went on to be, the Massey Hall recordings must have been incredible. Yeah, it is, though in an unexpected way.

Despite having an established career playing acoustic rock and folk, there’d only been sporadic official live album of this side of Young, and even then with backing musicians. This was the first full concert album of Neil playing just by himself, nothing more than an acoustic guitar and a piano in his arsenal – not even a harmonica shows up!

Such a stripped back performance works well enough for small, intimate venues like coffee houses and cellars, which Young had toured in for some time when he first went solo. By 1971, however, he’d become quite the star, and small, intimate venues were a thing of his past. Yet here he is in Massey Hall playing his music for a large, at times rowdy audience, and treating it as though it was for a group of fifty.

Therein lies Live At Massey Hall’s magic. There’s a real sense of stage isolation while listening to this, Young retreating into his own space as he sings. At times, when he belts out the high notes of Old Man and Down By The River, his voice echoes across the hall, further adding to that sense of remoteness. You can easily picture him surrounded by darkness up there, a single spotlight glowing from above keeping him from disappearing altogether. Despondent songs like Bad Fog Of Loneliness, Tell Me Why, A Man Needs A Maid, and even Cowgirl In The Sand completes the picture, even without the DVD aid of concert footage.

And yet, this all creates a stronger connection to him as a performer, where he’s allowing us into his private domain. It helps that he has a very respectful audience (mostly hippies his age, apparently), enthusiastic between songs, and remarkably quiet when Young sings. Maybe it was unfamiliarity with the music he debuted at this concert (“Heart Of Gold? Never heard of it.”), or maybe it was the Toronto crowd welcoming back a native son. Whichever the case, Live At Massey Hall was an early highlight of the Performance Series, one that’s yet to be repeated.

Electronic Music Critic, now with Amazon Links & Clips!

I never intended for this. When I started blogging again, it was as a lark, something to keep the writing juices going while focusing on work, college, and other assorted pet projects. Little did I know that, not only would I find that groove again, but hold onto it for as long as I have, with no real sign of losing it either. And while the readership I've generated since hasn't been a runaway internet smash or anything, it's grown to the point where I'm getting requests for actual audio clips.

I neglected it at first because it felt like more committed time to scouring for such clips than was worth investing for a side-hobby. Most blogs rely on YouTube links, and as those can be taken down at any point, you're constantly having to maintain them, lest you end up with a series of broken ones over time. And hosting the music myself was out of the question, the legal hassel involved so not worth it, which left me with legitimate sources.

Well, I did have an Amazon account when I started EMC, one I hardly gave much thought because, back then, there weren't many MP3 options to share clips with. Lo and behold though, times have changed, and Amazon's MP3 store has grown significantly, such that not including available audio to all this music I'm reviewing is utterly foolhardy. True, they're crummy thirty-second clips, often not even playing the best portions of said tracks, but it's something. As for why I don't also get Beatport and iTunes accounts, I'm an Amazon slut through and through; plus, you can get actual hard-copies at Amazon! I'm not looking to make big money off including Amazon links - Hell, I'm not even expecting to make a pittance. If I'm praising something as 'must own', however, I should at least give you the option of nabbing a copy for yourself.

So here's what you can expect going forward:

AMAZON BUTTON: Underneath each 'ACE TRACK' list, this button will, if available, lead you to the release's Amazon page. If a hard-copy option isn't available, it will take you to an MP3 option instead. If there is no Amazon Button, chances are it's a free net-album (eg: Ectoplazm downloads).

MP3 PLAYER: Underneath the Amazon Button will be an MP3 playlist of the release, which will include most, if not all, the tracks contained on the release. If there's no Player, chances are the album doesn't exist in an official MP3 form at Amazon (common with many older CDs). I'll make franken-Lists for the Burned CDs I review, but cobbling together a Playlist of scattered tracks that appear on regular CDs is more time than I'm willing to invest right now. Maybe down the road, if there's enough requests for it.

ACE TRACK PLAYLIST: In the sidebar, there's now a permanent Playlist that contains clips of anything I've given ACE TRACK status, provided Amazon has it available as an MP3. Now you can hear what I've sung the praises of! As I'm always listening to something new, this list will be constantly updated with each new review.

And that's about it. I spent nearly 20 hours straight this past day adding Amazon links and widgets to everything I could since Model 500's Classics. That's 300+ reviews! Holy cow, I must have been insane doing that. Wish I'd just have included these options from the start, but I sure didn't think I'd have written this much in 15 months. Dunno if the effort will be worth it, but if folks now have a reason to check back some of those older reviews, I say it has.

*2015 UPDATE*:
Turns out Amazon don't like it when you aren't generating enough revenue, promptly cancelling my Associate's Account. Oh well

Neil Young & Crazy Horse - Live At The Fillmore East

Reprise Records: 2006

Yeah, another Neil Young album. Get used to this, as we’re a long way from covering everything I've collected from the guy, to say nothing of that massive Archives box-set down the road. He's also a rocker who does utilize the word “Live” in the titles for his live albums a fair bit; fortunately, there's only a pair of them to deal with in the now, the first of which was the first to be released of the ongoing Performance Series project.

Apparently ol' Neil had a habit of recording damn near anything he had a chance to, including several gigs that might have a preferred rendition of new songs destined for future albums. For instance, The Needle And The Damage done, as appeared on Harvest (and thus every classic rock station ever), was from his performance on the Johnny Cash Show. More famously, he released Rust Never Sleeps as all live recordings from the tour he debuted those songs. Really, many songs from Rusty saw concert duty before showing up in LP form, sometimes years later at that.

And yep, we got some such tunes on this tidy six-tracker from Neil and his Crazy Horse band’s two-day Fillmore East gig in 1970. Wonderin’, sounding like a b-side to Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere, didn’t appear on a proper Young album until 19-f’n-83, and in a “fuck you, Geffen” rockabilly album at that! There’s also Winterlong, which didn’t properly show up until the decade-spanning Young compilation titled Decade. Finally, Come On Baby Let’s Go Downtown, a Danny Whitten penned piece of blues-rock that appeared on Tonight’s The Night (though also on the first Crazy Horse album shortly after this gig – yes, the band released music on their own too, though little as memorable as what they did with Neil Young).

Hearing some authentic Danny Whitten era live Horse was a big selling point in issuing Live At The Fillmore East. Aside from the few studio recordings, about all that we whippersnappers had to go by his brilliance was hearsay and shitty bootlegs of concerts. I mean, sure, Cowgirl In The Sand and Down By The River were pretty darn cool tunes on the first Young Plus Horse album, but no better than anything else we’d hear from later efforts when Frank Sampedro replaced him.

Well shit, son, here’s a proper education in these matters, twelve minutes of River and a whopping fifteen minutes of Cowgirl, and not a wasted second in either. Damn it, I’m playing this version of Cowgirl in the background as I type this, and believe you me I want to stop and just listen to these musicians jam away. The Youngful Horses had some time to perfect their roles since the first ragged recording sessions – still can barely carry a vocal harmony, though.

Despite only being a smattering of their Live At Fillmore East runs, this remains a tasty treat for folks fully bitten by the Rusty Psycho Equus. Just might convince a few doubters too.

Banco de Gaia - Live At Glastonbury

Mammoth Records: 1996

Much better. Much, much better! Maybe it's the Glastonbury vibe capturing these acts at their best; they sure were the strongest recordings from The Orb's live compilation (hard to call Live 93 a proper album). So if you're a young EDM chap thinking of releasing a live album, better make it a gig from the famous British festival.

Truth be told, I was incredibly hesitant to pick this up at first glance. It’d only been a few months since I’d bought Banco de Gaia’s first two CDs, thus I was still in that ‘eh, not as good as I hoped’ mindset regarding Last Train To Lhasa. Now here’s another CD containing most of Lhasa, plus Mafich Arabi and Heliopolis, another pair of tunes I was lukewarm over as heard on Maya (I was dead-set on believing Toby Marks produced worldly ambient dub and nothing but). Still, what’s that last track, Data Inadequate? Never heard that one on either album, nor was it on the Ambient Dub series. Is it a new song? Nah, probably some live dialog; maybe a corny joke that the show’s over, therefore has inadequate data to carry on. Yeah, that’s it.

Anyhow, I bought Live At Glastonbury regardless, because that’s what you do when you find a new musical love. And sure enough, once the CD played through, my hesitations over its merits quickly dissipated. The crowd’s properly present, their cheers never overwhelming the music while placing you among the mass. A few technical hiccups with the opener Last Train To Lhasa aside, the sound’s clear and full, with enough open air resonance giving the tracks fresh vitality. Mafich Arabi’s funky drum work is essentially unchanged from its album counterpart, but is far more vibrant and energetic with all that extra, delicious bass reverberating off open spaces.

Even better, some of these tunes have been reworked to serve the party environment of Glastonbury. Marks adds layers of cacophonous rhythms and acid squelches to the start of White Paint, turning a formerly sombre piece of music into a raucous build. 887 gets double-timed beats along with funky “whoop whoop” drops, and Kincajou... is actually rather mellow, despite a pumping rhythm kicking throughout. Heh, not like I’d expect another half-hour ambient excursion of the tune at Glastonbury; The Orb, sure.

As for that final cut, Data Inadequate, hot damn, where did this come from? Right, Marks’ first tape-only album Medium, and the old-school vibes are clear as day, all sci-fi space opera synths and chugging UK acid house beats. Its light years away from the typical Banco world beat sound, and a wonderful way to cap off an already fun CD.

Live At Glastonbury may only hold interest for fans of Toby Marks’ project, but for my money (and maybe yours!), it’s also an excellent example of how to do a live album right. Great sound recording, unique variations of tracks, and even a few surprises thrown in: what more could you ask for?

The Orb - Live 93

Island Records: 1993

Here we go – live albums. You just know I got a lot of ‘em. Ah, some, but surprisingly few with titles that start with the word “Live”. Shame, as I could have done a themed week around these. Oh well, let’s get this show on the road, listening to musical acts taking their shows on the road.

First up is The Orb. Say, this is finally the first CD of Dr. Paterson’s project I get to talk about too. Bloody shame it’s this one. The idea behind it is fine, as The Orb had developed quite the reputation early on as a trippy experience live, perfectly befitting of those chill-out rooms of the growing rave scene. I’m sure plenty of wonderful, primitive CGI floated across projector screens and the like. Even without the visual accompaniment, I can conjure nifty things while lying back with my headphones. Ooh, shiny globs!

But nay, it’s bloody hard to get into Live 93, on account this isn’t a single live performance; rather, a compilation of various gigs throughout that year, all arranged in confounding order. A Tokyo gig is followed by a Copenhagen gig is followed by a Glastonbury gig, and back to a Copenhagen gig, followed by a Live Orbient gig. Something like that anyway, and far from a proper live album experience when playing this through.

You may also realize that The Orb only had two albums out by that time, Adventure’s Beyond The Ultraworld and U.F.Orb. That isn’t much material to make up a live double-LP, even with The Orb’s typically long, noodly bits of ambience. What’s added to the live experience is just that, imagining yourself in such context, and the unique flourishes musicians may create on the fly. As The Orb make ample use of dubby echo and swishy filters, you bet you’re getting plenty of extras in these live renditions, so somewhat different from what you’d hear on the albums if you don’t mind sample-heavy dithering.

Unfortunately, I can’t ever hear ‘em without cranking my volume to near-ludicrous levels. The four Glastonbury recordings are okay, and about the only ones that stand out as worth listening to - you even get some actual crowd noise and full-aired resonance. At the other end of the spectrum are the four Copenhagen tracks, all hopelessly muffled and lacking any sort of dynamics. Perpetual Dawn should not sound this limp, ever, and enduring nearly twenty minutes of pants-sounding Huge Ever Growing Pulsating Brain is utterly pointless. The other ones are only marginally better than the Copenhagen cuts, and hardly worth the inclusion when coupled against the Glastonbury offerings.

I can only see two reasons why folks would have wanted this back in the day. One, it was a handy ‘hits compilation’, albeit poorly recorded. Two, a pair of then-unreleased tracks opened each CD, Plateau and Valley. Good tunes, true, but in superior form on the 1995 album Orbus Terrarum. Thus, beyond completism or curiosity, Live 93 is hopelessly redundant two decades on.

DJ Aaron Carter - Lit Up

Moonshine Music: 1999

Not to be confused with teeny-pop heartthrob Aaron Carter, this is DJ Aaron Carter, of the Moonshine Music star act Cirrus. Yes, I know I'm only the hundredth person to have made that joke, but seeing as how neither Aaron Carter have been relevant in over a decade, the gag's undoubtedly sat fallow in all that time, waiting to sound fresh again for a whole new audience of doe-eyed party revellers! Well, if they gave a shit about either, that is.

And really, Aaron Carter, the DJ, wasn’t terribly relevant to begin with, at least outside his native Los Angeles. As a member of Cirrus, he helped create some buzz for the West Coast acid breaks scene, but as the group was forever tied to Moonshine, they promptly disappeared when the label folded. I wonder though, what they would sound like in this day in age, had they carried on ten years longer. I wonder... *cue Wayne’s World fade*

What? I got nothing.

Okay, that was pointless. If this DJ set’s anything to go by, however, Carter may have found a home with the London Acid Techno Crew, a track list heavy with their contributions. This whole set is a straight-up hard acid rinse-out, something of a surprise from a member of a big beat group. The cover says "hard trance", but we're dealing with a proper techno tear out of the TB-303.

In that regard, Lit Up, Aaron Carter’s first and only commercial mix CD, is hardly surprising in content, though perhaps a little in track arrangement. The first three tracks are the sort of tunes most DJs of the time saved for their bangin’ finale, including Jark Prongo’s Movin’ Thru Your System and X-Cab’s own acid remix of Neuro. Dear me, I cannae take the anthemage of Neuro so soon, and nor can this mix it seems, as Carter’s slowed the track down to accommodate the surrounding cuts. Eh, not the best way to open this mix.

Fortunately, once we’re done with that, we’re fed a bevy of choice acid techno, and nothing but. Carter comes off far more comfortable in these surroundings, his mixes much smoother and clever usage of tracks. Each cut builds on the acid lines, but never so much that the subsequent one is left faltering. By the time we’re in the presence of the pummelling Dog Inc. by Uneven Surface, you’re hooked in, the set’s rough start all but forgotten and wishing for more. Oh my God, I’m gonna acidgasm!

Cheekily, he speeds Liberator & Geezer’s 303 Power as a segue to the hard, bangin’ techno of DDR’s Tweaker (going by Trip Hazard here), and DJ Micro’s remix of Cirrus’ own Stop And Panic. Huh, there’s a surprise of a cut in this mix, much less from the vanilla trance-man DJ Micro.

All said, Lit Up is far from an essential CD to have, though if found at bargain bin prices, you can never go wrong with hard acid techno. Never!

GZA/Genius - Liquid Swords

Geffen Records

The only solo-Wu album you're supposed to have, if you're any kind of fan of the Wu-Tang Clan. Yeah, yeah, you can point to plenty other albums as strong offerings from the group, though Liquid Swords almost unanimously holds a Top 5 position regardless. What separates this one from, say, Only Built For Cuban Linx or Supreme Clientele, is it’s as much a RZA album as it is a showcase of The Genius’, erm, lyrical genius. He’d had over two years to refine the minimalist, grimy, funk-soul groove by way of kung-fu style pioneered with Enter The Wu-Tang Clan, thus Liquid Swords comes of like the Wu-Tang album RZA could have made if he’d waited a little longer to unleash his master project.

True, Bobby Steele had worked on Method Man and Ol’ Dirty Bastard’s solo albums in that time, but those seemed custom tailored to each of their personalities. Gary Grice, on the other hand, was on a comparable wavelength with his cousin in where the two hoped to take the Wu’s style, so it makes sense his first solo outing as GZA ended rich with the chop-socky mysticism and dark-as-fuck music.

My God, I could go on forever about how awesome these tracks are! Gold’s cold, operatic backing with a piecing whine; smooth as satin pianos in Duel Of The Iron Mic; the clumpity rhythms and twitchy synths of Killah Hills 10304; the guitar plucks and desolate emptiness of Cold World. And that’s just the music. GZA’s great as always with what he brings to the mic, and the rest of the Wu (all contribute in some way, though some more than others) are all still in mid-‘90s hungry mode, A-games from the whole damn Clan.

Okay, the album’s brilliance is common knowledge, accepted lore, and biological fact. I’m adding nothing here by repeating the Liquid Swords narrative. I wonder, though, of a review impossibility: someone who loved Mr. Grice’s first album, Words From The Genius, but loathed this one. I wonder... *cue Wayne’s World fade*

And gangsta rap claims another promising young hip-hop artist. It was ridiculous enough that Will Smith and Jazzy Jeff did it, but someone calling himself The Genius shouldn’t be elaborating street violence and drug deals. Well, okay, he did on his excellent debut album too, but at least Life Of A Drug Dealer retained Cold Chillin’s excellent upbeat, funky production. The music on Liquid Swords is so depressing and gloomy. Even the opening titular cut, the funkiest old-school track on here, is undone by bookending it with that samurai movie dialog.

Content aside, I guess The Genius – sorry, The GZA - still sounds as good as he did on his debut, but he hardly gets a chance to shine solo, tons of guest versus from that Wu-Tang group he’s now hanging with showing up. Man, what happened, Gary? You could have kept the old-school party vibes alive, not jump on this slummy bandwagon.

Mm, yeah, well maybe not.

Riley Reinhold - Lights In My Eyes Remixe (Original TC Review)

My Best Friend: 2007

(2014 Update:
I think this was the start of my ongoing, always-futile campaign to retake trance's good name back for the hypnotic, melodic side of techno. Maybe one day, long in the future and eurotrance has all but been extinguished from the public's memory, then it will happen. And I will be vindicated, vindicated I say! Hahaha! HAHAHAAHAHAHA!!

Reinhold released a few more singles after this one, but production's taken a back seat to maintaining his Traum Schallplaten label while DJing on the side. He's apparently still doing the minimal shtick too. Pst, Riley, move on, it's not the aughts anymore.)


IN BRIEF: Is that you, neo-trance?

Far be it for Riley Reinhold to grab the spotlight, but when he released Lights In My Eyes last summer, the DJ from Cologne, Germany deserved a little recognition after all his years in the trenches running labels (Trapez, My Best Friend, Traum Schallplatten) and magazines (De:Bug). ‘Twas a lovely little single, and having been featured on the tail-end of Layo & Bushwacka!’s Global Underground contribution, Riley’s name was given the opportunity to rub shoulders with the likes of Plastikman and Larry Heard; fine company indeed. However, like the unassuming individual he is, Riley’s stepped aside once again to allow a pair of remixers steal the show on his very own track.

First up is Dominik Eulberg, whom steady readers of [TranceCritic] may remember from Will Alexander’s overwhelmingly positive review of the man’s latest album, Bionik. If this remix is anything to go by, I can hear where my fellow writer’s coming from. It starts out like pretty nearly any other minimal tech-house cut you’ve heard: interesting clinky-clonk mechanical percussion, but ultimately dry and sterile.

Then those strings appear. And grab hold of you. And never let go. This, my friends, is a marvelous remix! By taking the backing pads of Riley’s original and giving them the front-and-center, Dominik has crafted a track that is remarkably mesmerizing in execution. And as pleasing as these strings are, they are entirely co-dependent upon the rhythms to maintain your attention, as the subtle shifts and tweaks on the beats throughout keep the strings from falling into noodly loops; independently neither element would work, but together they create musical magic.

Dominik’s remix runs over eleven minutes, but you’ll hardly notice the passing of time. This marriage of soothing strings and minimal techno is quite captivating. It’s hypnotic. It’s, well, trance. Or trance-inducing, at the least.

On the flip, Patrice Bäumel - a relative newcomer to the field of production - get’s his stab as well, and he turns in a remix that is more dancefloor friendly than Dominik’s cut. Although a rather straight-forward tech-house re-rub, Patrice displays a fine sense of rhythm, and despite giving the original’s strings less prominence, they are no less hypnotic when they do make their appearance. Overall, a solid offering.

Which can be said of this remix package as well. Check it out, you won’t be disappointed.