Jean-Michel Jarre - Chronologie

CD-Maximum: 1993/2000

So maybe I wasn't so far off in assuming Chronologie was Jean-Michel Jarre's attempt at a clubland-crossover after all. That's all it truly was when I first wrote the review for Jarremix, an assumption based on remixes of the singles and watching the Chronologie 4 video (so early '90s!). Had I properly digested all of the Frenchman’s discography before hand, I might have gleaned a clearer perspective, but as it stood I was working off the major hits. Heck, the only reason I picked up Jarremix back in the day was it was one of the few trancey albums I stumbled upon. I had no idea who ol' Jean was at that point, and even after enjoying that collection, it was many moons before Monsieur Jarre's legacy came into focus for yours truly. We all start somewhere though, and now that I have the spending cash to dig in properly, it's time to start up the Jarre collection.

Seeing as how the Chronologie remixes were my introduction, I figured it appropriate to make this album one of the first purchases (along with the only Jean-Michel Jarre album you're supposed to have, even if you're not much of a fan of Jean-Michel Jarre – but that one's all the way down in the 'O's). Chronologie 4 was also the tune that let me stop worrying and accept ol’ Jean’s sappier tendencies. Make no mistake, for as many sublime moments in his discography, Jarre has also gone full synth-pop fromage too, and anything of that sort released in the ‘90s just couldn’t hold up.

That was my long-time thoughts anyway, but the wonderful world of post-millennium space synth made me realize something: Chronologie 4 is totally space synth, in fact an expertly crafted example of such. Those charmingly dated synth tones, pumping rhythms that have you cruising the cosmos, and gloriously epic melodies, it’s what nearly all modern space synth composers strive for. Of course, this is a retroactive classification, but there it is.

That’s just one track though. The first half of Chonologie has Jarre doing the modern classical thing, including an eleven minute opener, while Part 2 ups the tempo with peppy synth-pop rhythms and church organs, sounding like his earlier works. The back half is far more early-‘90s in tone, and aside from Part 6’s groovy house vibe, is hilariously dated, especially so Part 5 and Part 8, what with hip-hop beats, freestyle orchestral-hits and fake record scratches! Dear Lord, Part 8’s what’s played during the credits of a bad comedy.

It was a poor end the original album, but in the year 2000, a Russian label got the distribution rights and, attempting to entice those who’d already bought Chronologie, included a slew of remixes of classic Jarre! Eh, cheap studio knock-offs, more like. There’s a few tracks I know in the list (Oxygene , Magnetic Fields, Calypso, etc.), and none hold a candle to the remixes found on Jarremix. Impossibly high standards set for Jarre remixes, that album did.

Krusseldorf - Bohemian Groove

Beats & Pieces: 2010

I never ordered this, nor did I find it in a CD shop (pft, as if those exist in Vancouver now); rather, it came bundled with my last Ultimae splurge. Wow, not only does the always-ace chill label include great music, classy digipaks, cool postcards, bookmarks, and incense, but now free CDs too? This is better than radio promos other labels offer: it's a proper LP from an established artist! Okay, it was likely a packaging error (though I wasn't missing anything), so it’s not a big deal. Still, never look a gift horse in the mouth, right? Uh, that’s kinda what I’m supposed to be doing at this blog though.

Anyhow, Krusseldorf goes by Simon Heath on his passport, while others still may know him as dark ambient project Atrium Carceri. I haven’t heard that one, though his recent Sabled Sun off-shoot looks interesting, further exploration of dark ambient but with a sci-fi twist (“in space, no one can hear the synth drone”). In either case, it’s a far cry from what we get on Bohemian Groove, essentially a psy-dub album. Guess that makes sense if Ultimae had this floating around. I’m not sure if this is the established Krusseldorf sound or just a one-off, but considering all his other releases at Lord Discogs suggests the likes of Shpongle and Ott (to say nothing of Ultimae regulars), I’ll trust my instincts; a psy-dub album, then.

Even before throwing this on, I was leery. It’s a genre that can hit some exhilarating highs, yet is seldom achieved by only but the most frequently name-dropped. Too many producers are content to sound like Posford or Bluetech without adding a fresh twist on the template, and matters aren’t helped when they lack comparable studio gear. As Mr. Heath additionally works a studio engineering gig, you’d think he’d make a good showing if it, but nay, the music on Bohemian Groove, while spacious, comes off just as plastic as most average psy-chill acts.

Right, it’s partly my fault here for listening to a chunk of CDs with the Ultimae Mixdown™ recently. And if space synth has taught me anything, who cares about quality of sound so long as the musical craft holds. The first couple tracks off Bohemian Groove are fine, though not terribly challenging where psy-dub arrangements are concerned. Third track Inbound raised a few red flags, however, and fourth cut Nobs is just… oh dear, it’s psy-muzak. Never have I heard such a listless, saccharine tune in this genre, and Lord help me I hope to never hear it again.

That sadly soured my initial impressions of the rest of this album, but I’ve softened since. Most of it settles into a blissy, comfortable psy-dub groove, the plastic sheen even turning charming after a while (yay clickity-glitch rhythms). Occasional instrument choices may lift an eyebrow (no, guitars, no), but nothing dire. Still, Bohemian Groove is conceptually so middle-of-the-road for psy-chill, it’s stuck at the fork in a highway. What nonsensical metaphor?

Connect.Ohm - 9980

Ultimae Records: 2012

A curious one, this. Connect.Ohm is a collaboration between Alexandre Scheffer and Hidetoshi Koizumi. They more commonly go by Cell and Hybrid Leisureland, respectively, and aren’t exactly Ultimae regulars. They’ve certainly contributed many tracks to various compilations, and have also released an album or two through the label, but they are by no means exclusive in the same way Solar Fields and Carbon Based Lifeforms are. Still, they must have curried enough good will with Mr. Villuis for him to indulge them with a collaborative LP on his label. There wasn’t even any pre-release single or exclusive compilation cut leading up to 9980, at least nothing I’m aware of officially. Maybe a sneak-peak podcast, but I wouldn’t know of it; I don’t do podcasting.

For those not in the know, Cell tends to explore ambient techno along the lines of CBL, whereas Hybrid Leisureland is what you’d get if Harold Budd was from Japan, and with more pads than pianos. Not sure if I’d go so far as to say something cliché like this is a match made in heaven (…wait), but minimalistic ambient-scapes can work with anything, and Scheffer and Koizumi liked each other’s mojo enough to merge their styles.

The result is about what you’d expect from such a pairing: low key, subtle, spacious, and occasional rhythms that are barely a pulse, although the opener Evolution 1:1 settles into a typical ambient dub groove. Mmm, feel those restrained bass drops as you float on grey clouds. It’s also about as upbeat as 9980 gets, though subsequent ‘rhythmic’ tracks work their own unique pace too. Titular cut 9908 indulges in glitch, while Mol comes off like Solar Fields with its charming melodies and gentle harmonies. Fossil gets deeper into dub rhythms, and Take Off goes a tad tribal. Mind, the rhythmic differences between these tunes are marginal, but when dealing with such minimalism, it’s all I’ve to work with.

Still, this is an ambient album through and through. With tracks an average of seven-to-nine minutes in length, you bet we have some noodly bits going on, not to mention good ol’ ‘laptop drone’. Second track Snow Park sure takes its sweet time developing, three minutes passing before even a hint of rhythm or melody emerge. And even when it does, it’s but a faint whisper of piano and bleepy backings. What keeps you engaged are those harmonizing pads, gradually building upon each other. Yet whereas most producers opt for a rapturous climax, Snow Park gently ebbs away, a brief bit of extra piano the closest we get to a proper peak. Other ambient pieces like Gentle Perception and Time To Time By Time work in similar fashion.

By the end of final, planetarium track Winter Sorrows, however, the common criticism of nearly all ambient albums of this nature also rears its head with 9980: music amounting to little more than pleasant fluff. True, but with a good pair of headphones, is it ever exquisite, pleasant fluff.

A Rule Alteration Going Forward

*Whew* That's the 'L's finished, and thus I'm at about the mid-point through this insane listening/blogging project. While I'm by no means halfway completed going through everything I have (much less if I decide to restart at the beginning to accommodate the first few letters for completion's sake), this does at least mark the mid-point of the alphabet (including numerical titles as one 'letter') - and no, 'Q' barely counts in this project, trust me on that.

It also creates a slight problem with Rule #1, whereby anytime I purchase something new that falls behind in my alphabetical list, that release goes to the front of the queue. This wasn't such a big deal when I was dealing with but a few letters, but I'm now facing half an alphabet, and growing longer with each completed letter, thus the potential backlog list increasing with each new bundle I buy (as you'll see shortly), which I feel gums up my regular progress.

So, a modification of Rule #1. Instead of automatically listening and reviewing new purchases as they arrive, they'll remain in a 'to-review' pile until I've made at least half-progress through a current letter. For instance, as I've just finished 'L', I'll now review my alphabetical backlog, then carry on through 'M'. Upon finishing up through the mid-point of 'M' - in this case, 'Mi' - I'll go through the backlog again, and so on. This also gives me the chance to properly digest new material instead of jumping into them so cold.

That's all on this small update. Time to go identify minerals for marks.

µ-Ziq - Lunatic Harness

Virgin: 1997

Aphex Twin was the king of IDM. Squarepusher was the revolutionary (yes, even among revolutionaries). µ-Ziq was the guy that got to hang out with them, taking on their styles, even carving out his own niche in the process. The man from Planet Mu never quite hit their highs, though during the ‘electronica’ boom, I’m sure some record executives figured they’d have another Come To Daddy success on their hands by signing Mike Paradinas. Virgin plucked the µ-Ziq man up for his fourth full-length, and the results were about as you’d expect an IDM wonk making a crossover: charming, challenging, seductive, abhorrent, and just plain nuts.

Right off the first track, Brace Yourself Jason, you can hear the lineage: frenetic jazz-fusion rhythms that made Tom Jenkinson such a darling with fans of challenging techno, coupled with those ambient pads that made many a Rickity Da Jam-Man tune sound so utterly alien. It’s a cool track, though not really distinctive of µ-Ziq - not that I know exactly what is Paradinas’ distinct sound, as I’ve only two albums worth, including this one. If I’d make a guess, however, he shows more love for the classical side of IDM, the sort of music inspired by Mozart and the like (say, would Amadeus be an IDM wonk of his era?). Many of the subsequent tracks feature cute, elegant melodies as played on synths that one suspects were formerly in the hands of modern classicalist composers of the ‘70s. Not an entirely unique approach to music-making then, but definitely innovative when complemented with equally infantile hip-hop rhythms.

Wait, wasn’t this supposed to be a crossover album (probably not)? Very well, here’s some of that trendy ‘drum and bass’ stuff, though clearly on the agro-tip with Approaching Menace. This tune’s what it would have sounded like if Dillinja really went fucking evil; less bass-bin punishment, more feral nastiness, and all distortion on those snares. In case that’s too much for you, µ-Ziq offers a few pleasant atmospheric tunes as a follow-up, bridging the gap between IDM’s breakcore and jungle’s amen breaks.

The back end of Lunatic Harness is mostly experimental stuff, including aggravating industrial-noise nonsense in Wannabe, a total Aphex Twin jump with London, and some orchestral glitch to finish off in Midwinter Log (I bet Lodsb was paying attention). Thus wraps up my generic recap of what goes down in this album.

There’s a great deal of variety here; unfortunately, it doesn’t make for much of a cohesive listen. That’s often a problem with these IDM full-lengths: the producers have so many ideas bubbling in their wacky heads, they’ll struggle crafting an LP that can be enjoyed front-to-back. The classics are obviously the exceptions, and while Lunatic Harness was well-received by this particular scene, it’s remained in the realms of EDM niche to this day. Still, I can’t think of a better µ-Ziq album to get your feet wet with. Give it a shot if you’re curious about Mr. Paradinas’ output.

Sounds From The Ground - Luminal

Waveform Records: 2004

After jumping around labels for their first decade as Sounds From The Ground, Jones and Woolfson finally settled on Waveform to handle most of their distribution upon releasing Luminal. It also started off a sort-of trilogy on their part, exploring all that one can explore within the realm of ambient dub. I've already covered two here, Brightwhitelight and High Rising. And now we've come to the end, at the beginning. Huh, who'd have thought I'd do this in reverse. In a nutshell, the duo was a bit all over the place for their first few releases, which likely explains their label jumping too. More recently, they've explored darker downtempo, glitch and drone, but I'll get to that's for reviews much later on. Figures in the middle of this career they’d settle into a comfortable rhythm.

As Luminal was the first in this trilogy, it doesn't quite reach the highs of High Rising. For what it's worth, though, I find this one more interesting than Brightwhitelight. There's still some of the duo's acid jazz background cropping up (they'd released another album but two years prior on Ninja Tune sub-label Nu-Tone), so it’s not all ambient dub all the time. Heck, opener Stampede wouldn’t sound out of place on a Thievery Corporation album, sans occasional galloping horse samples. In fact, if you’re at all familiar with Thiev-Corp’s first album, Sounds From The Thievery Hi-Fi (and shame on you if you’re not), you’ll find yourself in familiar territory with the first couple tracks off Luminal.

After that though, it’s proper dub t’ings. Whether with cascading synth washes in Razz and Poems, smoky reggae roots in Tumbledown and Ten Tons Of Dope, funky upbeat numbers like Burning Bright and London Fields (which includes a lengthy intro of ambient pad bliss), or a soulful jam with Move On, the thick bass and spacious reverb is in full effect. Yep, Luminal definitely sounds good for a mid-‘00s Sounds From The Ground album. Yessir, it does. So... um, how’s things with you?

Look, there’s little more to say on this one. Everything I can say about how this album sounds, I’ve covered in the other two reviews I mentioned above. I’ve plumb run out of things now, and I fear it’s selling Luminal short. Hell, I’m selling ambient dub as a viable genre short, aren’t I? Guess it can’t be helped. Like so many branches in music, sometimes a genre will have stronger connection to a listener than others and, for whatever reason, ambient dub hits that sweet spot for yours truly, despite the simplistic nature much of its produced in. For others, it might be minimal deep-tech, others still dub techno or noodly drone. I can vibe on some of those too, yet more often than not, this is my go-to sound, nicely presented from the ground.

I do give Luminal a recommendation if you’re even a casual fan of blissy downtempo vibes, but it ain’t a big deal if you pass on it either.

Juno Reactor - Luciana

Metropolis: 1994/2008

It's just what you had to do, back in the '90s. For whatever reason, to be taken as a serious auteur within electronic music, an album's worth of ambient noodling was a necessary addition to your discography. Most of the time it was as a side project, likely in collaboration with Pete Namlook or Dr. Alex Paterson, and Ben Watkins was no exception, getting chummy enough with Mr. Orb to release this here Luciana as a second album. Goodness, shooting for artistic greatness but a year after Transmission. Was anyone even aware of Juno Reactor's existence, beyond the incredibly young goa trance scene?

Maybe not, but ol' Alex had a new label, Inter-Modo, and he needed some fresh material to promote it with. The self-titled album from ambient 'super-group' FFWD was the first and Luciana became the second. The third album was from Autocreation, then the label promptly folded. Huh, guess Dr. Paterson was a might bit too distracted to maintain such a label, the result of which creating incredible scarcity of these three originals, and stupid-inflated prices to procure a copy. Well, until Metropolis fucked things up and re-released Luciana for a reasonable sum of coinage. Weep, oh ye' Juno fans who sprung fifty bones and a leg on Ebay for the original. Weep for our smug amusement.

I do wonder if some did back in the day upon receiving this for overblown value. For as rare as this particular album once was, rare ambient albums are rather common, at least in terms of number crafted, if not quantity released. There’s tons of this stuff out there, and unless you’re a dedicated collector, much of it perfectly skippable. One can only take so much noodly synth pad work and dithering sampling before it all blends together into mushy ambient soup. Maybe if something totally unique went down in the creation of such pieces – say, produced live with ‘70s gear bought second-hand from Tangerine Dream, inside a derelict outpost on Edgeøya at the Spring Equinox – it’d be worth such investment. I rather doubt Luciana is one such example though.

Even for minimalist dark ambient drone, this single track does drag at sixty-one plus minutes in length. It certainly shows Mr. Watkins’ industrial roots, all menacing, brooding soundscapes and disconcerting synths weaving in and out as a pulsing, mechanical throb guides you through a desolate landscape. I imagine this is what would be playing while riding that monorail in Stephen King’s third Dark Tower novel. Occasionally a vocal chant comes out, other times a squealing animal (mutated whale calls?) or a patch of dialog, but by and large the same bleak mood is maintained throughout.

Luciana’s an interesting piece, for sure, and Juno Reactor fans well certainly get a kick out of it, Watkins demonstrating quite a bit of musical potential even at this early stage. Still, it’s little more than an ‘ambient b-side’ to the Juno Reactor discography, hardly a critical item to have for the casuals.

The Shamen - LSI (Love Sex Intelligence)

Epic: 1992

The Shamen were a pretty big deal in the UK, one of those seminal bands of the British acid house wave that many talk of reverentially. For the longest time though, I couldn't understand why – Hell, I still struggle with it. Maybe it's just bad luck on my part, my first exposure to them primarily the chart action goofy shit like Ebeneezer Goode and Destination Eschaton; it'd be like only knowing The Beatles by Yellow Submarine and Ob La Di, Ob La Da. This here LSI (Love Sex Intelligence) single sure didn't help convince me of The Shamen's legacy, plucked from a used store shelf in the hope of learning what the big deal was.

The lead single off Boss Drum, them boys of The Shamen have a message here, yo'. Sex, it can be dangerous if you don't know what you're doing, mang, 'cause everybody be gettin' AIDS an' shit (...wait, wrong decade). So be smart about your hook-ups – even better, hook-up for love, not party-induced lustiness. It'll be better for the heart and soul in the long outlook, isn't that right? Yeah... yeah. Or, I dunno, I barely pay attention to the lyrics, as redundantly repetitive as they are. Maybe they were pressured into doing a 'positive sex education' single, to show that they weren't all about mashy rave bedlam as the press would have you believe. And when the UK media still wasn't buying it, go all in with Ebeneezer Goode.

Okay, good message, but oddly dated to the early ‘90s despite, for all intents, it should be timeless. Maybe it’s just the delivery, or because the smash-hit sex education single of that time, Salt-N-Pepa’s Let’s Talk About Sex, draws every similar tune into its sphere of association.

Enough words, let’s get into the music proper. The original is UK acid house, including little trance-voice plucks for a hook and a chuggy rhythm. Erm, not progressive house though, as it’s too brief and clearly aimed at the charts. Maybe one of the remixes would tap that genre, but if it did, the US version never got it. Instead we get the requisite House Remix (done by The Beatmasters, of course), another House Remix care of E-Smoove (a bit more garage on this one), the requisite Techno Remix provided by Ed Richards, and the requisite Rave Remix by Frank De Wulf. Yep, I believe that’s all the markets covered, at least where America was concerned. Maybe the Germans got a Trance Remix on their copies. They’re all functional tools for the time, and I can’t see anyone needing them in their arsenal these days, beyond a “hey, remember The Shamen?” moment in a set. And even then, LSI is one of the last tracks I can think of getting such a rinse-out.

The Shamen put out quite a few clever productions in their time. Sadly, LSI isn’t one of them, and figures I’d end up with a dull collection of remixes at that. The search continued...

Speedy J - Loudboxer

NovaMute: 2002

I honestly haven’t a clue who was responsible for it. Bolland? Bones? Mills? It was Hawtin, wasn’t it. Every trend in techno always leads back to Hawtin somehow, dictating how the genre at large “should” be done when things were perfectly fine before. Well, whoever started this particular trend, it matters little. By the turn of the millennium, bangin’ techno was all the rage, indeed the default sound everyone associated the genre at the time. Not that I blame folks for getting in on that action: delicious percolating drum kits rolling out at upwards of 140bpm, dark atmospheres tricking your head into believing them looped rhythms were saying actual words, and all that. So much energy, so much awesome, a welcome road to roam when all you want is to submit to the machine beat until 8am. Oh dear, I’m losing my humanity, get me out of this warehouse! Ahem...

By 2002, the sound was in full swing, names like Adam Beyer and Chris Liebing kings of this sort of bangin’, loop techno. In a surprising move for a guy with an already eclectic career, one Jochem George Paap, more commonly known as Speedy J (a very important person in the world of techno), jumped on it too. Keep in mind most of his ‘90s output found him further exploring Detroit’s approach to techno (the one true approach), or indulging in IDM experiments (another true approach). This here Loudboxer is quite far from either, stripping things down to tribal basics, and never relenting until the final track sings.

An LP of two-halves, the first is the warm-up. Opener Reenter is almost dub techno, the following tracks maintaining that spacious sound, especially so in Freq. There’s little fancy here, each successive track adding another layer of rhythmic intensity, drums, snares, hi-hats and whatever else you may have at the forefront of everything. Honestly, detailing specific tracks is almost pointless, each little more than tools in service of the set. Yep, we’re in Decks, EFX & 909 territory here (I told you everything comes back to Hawtin), though in this case at least Mr. Paap creates his own loops rather than ‘recontextualizes’ existing material. For proof, check out the vinyl release of Loudboxer, two-hundred (!!) loops of techno bedlam for all your DJing needs.

There’s a brief interlude titled Inter Zil, then we’re off to the races, ol’ Jochem showing little restraint as pounding kicks and choking machinery relentlessly pummel you. In a cheeky yet brilliant moment, a live recording of Krikc erupts from the white-noise build of Bugmod. It’s an effective way of sucking the listener into believing they’re hearing Loudboxer out in a proper setting, cheering with the crowd, despite all other stimuli proving otherwise. Even in the waning moments of final track Pannik, where things go quiet until the drumbeat is little more than a heartthrob, you long to be in a warehouse or club for this music. Still, a CD’s worth will suffice …for now.

Spicelab - Lost In Spice

Planet Earth Recordings: 1993/1994

Of all Oliver Lieb’s albums, I have to say his debut Spicelab LP, Lost In Spice, must be his oddest. Not for its raw production or lack of typical Lieb trance, but for how boshing basic some of the rhythms are. No matter what genre he’s explored, Lieb’s craftsmanship with drums kits and basslines always kept him a step above his peers. Here though, you get near-gabber beats in Cold Chillin’, coming at you a blistering 160bpm. It’s more of a hard acid techno track, the sort of sound you might have heard Spiral Tribe kicking out around the same time. Yet hearing it must be like what Tiësto fans feel when hearing Da Joker.

Even more baffling is making it nearly seventeen minutes long. What’s he trying to do, create the progressive rock version of hard acid techno? I suppose Cold Chillin’ has enough neat sounds going for it to just make it worth the duration – sci-fi zaps, snarling TB-303 basslines, peppy synth hooks, percussion and cymbals that crescendo as industrial blocks clank in the background. It just seems overkill for a track of this nature. All well, ol’ Oliver always claimed his Spicelab material was intended for more experimental stuff, and if he wanted to open this album with ‘experimental hard acid bosh’, so be it.

The other tracks on here are closer in tune to the early Spicelab sound, with many distinctive traits that defined many Lieb productions (spacey synth pads, those claps…). Second cut Spicelab is a slow builder, working an eerie mood befitting of such a dark cover while even more bleeps n’ bloops come and go. There are more instances of hooks found, though no real melody until a rapturous breakdown some two-thirds through, where the rhythm essentially leaves for the rest of the track for more sci-fi soundscapes. It’s like you’ve been cruising through underground industrial tunnels, only to surface into a b-movie or ‘80s anime alien world. Have I mentioned the sounds Lieb uses are dated in a quirky retro way?

The B-side of this CD is similar, in that The Last Supernova is another 160bpm blistering cut with weird sound effects, though with more reliance on tinnier percussion and those sweeping synths also found in Spicelab classics like Amorph and Spice Is A Fulltime Occupation. The titular cut at the end is more like the eponymous cut, in that there’s more build, proper hooks and melody, plus distinct sections that evolve from what came before (almost an extended version of Quicksand, really). Also included with the American version is The Spirit Of Fear, a darker take on the same formula.

Lost In Space is undeniably rough around the edges, especially compared to Lieb’s future Spicelab and L.S.G. songwriting. For an early ‘90s techno LP though, it’s damn ambitious, and definitely a positive sign that ol’ Oliver would have himself a remarkable career in the following two decades. Not bad for a German making New Beat but two years prior.