Thievery Corporation - The Mirror Conspiracy

4AD: 2000

Not to sound too up my own ass, but I was always a little smug around my peers in discovering Thievery Corporation before most of them. I shouldn’t be that smug, since I only found out about the Washington downtempo duo when 4AD, of all labels, redistributed their classic Sound From The Thievery Hi-Fi two years after it’d already come out on Thiev-Corp’s own Eighteenth Street Lounge Music. Dammit though, I was the first in my circle to find it, and it wasn’t until their sophomore album, The Mirror Conspiracy, that the duo broke out from underground-darling status with chill-out crossover potential. And for that, I… kinda lost the plot with them.

Not that I blame Garza and Hilton for refining the dubby, hip-hop groove they made for themselves - adopting Latin and jazz elements into a genre already filled with Jamaican and urban influences was a fine idea. They certainly proved capable of pulling it off, with tunes like Lebanese Blonde and So Come Voce getting tons of rotation on every loungey chill-out compilation that mattered (and then some).

The Mirror Conspiracy isn’t just some nifty bossa nova for smoky basements though, as oodles of ethnically diverse music finds its way throughout the album. Indra gets its bhangra on at points, plenty of Arabic nods crops up (Illumination, ), the Hong Kong Triad sounds like it could have fit snuggly in a ‘60s mod movie, and even that Afro-Brazillian percussion style batacuda gets its nod in Air Batacuda …hehe, ‘batucada’. Nearly every track features some unique stylistic origin while always maintaining a distinct dubbed-out cool vibe that’s wholly the Thievery Corporation’s. It’s just a shame so many of them are too damned short.

Perhaps I was spoiled by the lengthier tunes on their first album, but longer running time would make the songs on The Mirror Conspiracy so much more immersive. I want to get lost in Samba Tranquille’s blissy shuffle for longer than three minutes. I want to forever float on rivers of funky dub with Tomorrow. And what the Hell, Bebel Gilberto doesn’t even get three minutes at providing a soulful croon in So Com Voce? A few cuts do offer reasonable length – tribal Illumination, jazzy Focus On Sight clock in over four minutes, and Indra gets a whopping five-plus to strut her stuff (whoa, what is this, prog?). Considering, at thirteen tracks, the The Mirror Conspiracy runs well less of an hour, there wasn’t any reason for Garza and Hilton to indulge themselves a little - unless these were intended as radio-friendly versions, trotted out for easy licensing. Given how many songs did end up on compilations and chill-out mixes, maybe so.

I won’t go so far as to call Thiev-Corp’s newer style ‘pop’, but it is far more accessible for mass audiences compared to many other downtempo artists of similar ilk. Fair enough if that’s their goal (and judging by their follow-up albums, it was), but it wasn’t for me. Solid live shows though!

Various - min2MAX (Original TC Review)

M_nus: 2006

(2014 Update:
If this music is so minimal, then why is this review so maximal, AMIRITE!!?? Wow... I mean, just wow. How did I ever manage 1,200 words for this one? Right, a good four-hundred is spent at the start getting TranceCritic's reader-base caught up on what the whole minimal craze was about. We were just under a year late in doing so, but it needed addressing, and I was lucky enough to spot an eye-catching cover in the local HMV megastore that had a bunch of the music on it. Besides, it was a fresh stylistic movement that deserved some attention. Surely something like minimal would remain just a short-term fad though, one kept in underground, off-road events; nothing this gimmicky could endure and infest nearly every other genre and club for too long, right? Haha ha.

Ah well, 2006 was the honeymoon year, and as such saw occasional clever works being put out. There's a few on here too, but Hawtin's iron-clad manifesto of what his assembled M_nus roster should sound like is incredibly apparent on this compilation. While Magda, Wink, and Heartthrob break free of his shackles, it's apparent the rest struggled to meet his standards, coming out with relatively forgotten works now. Except that JPLS track - its suckiness is forever burned upon my poor ears.)


IN BRIEF: More than meets the ear.

Now here’s a style of music that’s sparked some debate. Minimal techno, in all its unassuming-yet-pretentious history, has dug deeper trenches in the Genre Wars than nearly any other genre out there. By listening and even getting something out of minimal, you’re considered far more cultured in music than the commoners of the pop world; a worthy gauge to test your sonic intellect. If you can’t comprehend it, then you simply must be a simpleton, so why not just go scurry on back to your Scooter albums, Junior, while the grown-ups enjoy their forward-thinking music.

Truthfully, the minimal crowds have a point when they make such outlandish claims. This music is not going to hold your hand and lead you to insta-melodies or pummeling percussion. Instead, it demands your undivided attention to pick out its nuances; those with short-attention spans need not apply. A slight change in pitch or rhythmic variation can have the same impact as a sputtering synth in epic trance or roaring bassline in jungle. This is music mostly for the head rather than the body or soul.

Of course, there’s always the trap of trying to be too clever, and this is often where minimal stumbles with a casual fanbase. Like other kinds of head music (psy dub, nu-jazz, drone), the old cliché of ‘rewards paying attention’ is suited, but minimal has the annoying habit of never anteing up such a reward. Too often what you hear is what you get, and this can be frustrating for those who want something out of the music they listen to, even if it’s subtle.

Richie Hawtin has bridged the gap between party hedonism and stubborn pretensions better than anyone, and has become the poster boy for minimal’s mission to bring a sense of class back to clubland without losing the fun along the way. I can’t say for sure whether he’s succeeding or not, but hanging out with Sven Väth certainly seems to have lightened up the Windsor native. In the process, Plastikman has gone ahead and started a label, Minus, promoting his manifesto.

min2MAX showcases a bevy of Minus producers, each giving us their take on the minimal sound. I suppose if you’re new to this music, such an idea sounds frightfully dull. Who has the time to sit through an entire compilation of minute beats and sound? Actually, further listening on min2MAX revels a decent amount of diversity within minimal’s structure.

Heartthrob’s Baby Kate gets this show on the road with a simple groover as bleepy sounds and bouncy bass bobble about. It’s all very subtle sounding, but bits of volume tweaks and reverb tricks do keep things ever-shifting. Similarly, follow-up Scatter from Gaiser pulls the same stunt on its percussion while a deep bassline grumbles about and sparse, static sounds do weird things in the background. Listening to these, it’s pretty apparent these tracks are more interested in creating atmosphere than anything else. In this, it does succeed, but your enjoyment of it will probably stem from whether you like mechanical mood music.

However, even mood music can use some melodic substance at times, and Magda gives us it with Staring Contest. Yeah, the rhythms are slight, and there still aren’t any major hooks to be had, but with twinkling sounds echoing in the background, there’s still an air of benevolence to be had. It’s the kind of stuff you might expect to hear on a Drexciya release, as it contains that ‘underwater resonance’ the group was known for. Of course, it also helps Magda has crafted a rhythm that is actually rather funky for something so minimal.

Unfortunately, Konrad Black’s offering here shows what’s so wrong with this genre. You get some bobbling bass sounds and sparse rhythms, and that’s it for the duration. Sure, a couple effects or percussion switch-ups occur at points, but none of which do anything remotely interesting, causing the track to loop along uneventfully. At least Troy Pierce’s GVRL retains some of that lost interest with an acidy bassline that’s nicely tweaked as it loops, all the while bleepy sound effects and better percussion fill in the surroundings. It’s still not terribly enduring, but a better effort in creating some of that moody atmosphere that was apparent early in this compilation.

Now here’s an individual that’s made the most out of the least. Wink’s Higher State from back in the 90s was pretty much just a funky electro beat, time-stretched vocals, and an acid line that got tweaked and distorted like a rockin’ guitar solo. So what’s he got in store for us here? Maintaining min2MAX’s theme, it seems. Have To Get Back is yet another dark, moody excursion into minimal sounds and layered loops. However, Wink does keep the tension on a continuous climb, letting layers overlap each other with increasing frequency. Eventually, some danceable tribal rhythms make an appearance via distorted percussion, but it never erupts the way you might hope the name Wink would lead you to believe. Still, it’s an interesting track while it lasts.

Marc Houle and Niederflur provide a ‘minimal-at-opposite-ends’ segment with these next two tracks. The former’s kind of similar to Pierce’s go, with a wobbly acid bassline and housey rhythms that groove you as plinky electronic noises work their way around them; probably the most energetic song thus far (although that isn’t saying much). Meanwhile, z.B. goes the other way, getting as minimal as minimal gets. The bassline is a mere pulse, synth stabs break the gloom infrequently, and clicky noises worm about, creating a rather choking atmosphere. Actually, this is closer to dub techno than minimal, but the two aren’t that dissimilar when you break them down. Is it any good though? Not bad at all, provided you don’t get distracted from all the yummy mechanical resonance. Yeah, yeah... I likes me some dubby resonance.

“But enough with all this dark, moody, serious stuff,” you say. “Can’t minimal get its head out of its ass long enough to at least have a sense of humour?” Look no further than Tractile’s Unquenchable then. The sounds used here, plinky-plonky electronic stuff sounding like some sort of dwarf-sized factory, end up taking a goofier slant on things compared to what we’ve heard so far, and it’s certainly a welcome relief to see some fun injected into this compilation, even if it’s only just this once.

With that out of the way, min2MAX gets back to business as usual for the final stretch, with two good tracks of groovey, deep techno sounds (Victoria Station and Orchidee), and an utterly horrible track lodged between the two of them. Seriously, this... Twilite 7; what on Earth is this? It takes the plinky-plonk sounds of Unquenchable and puts them in the sparse production of z.B., with none of the charm of either. It shows off everything that minimal gets mocked about in spades, and is an unfortunate blemish on a rather decent compilation in general.

Yeah, this is a decent compilation, and I’m sure fans of this stuff will love it. The bigger question, though, is whether there’s enough substance here to sway the anti-minimal crowd to switch sides. Frankly, it all depends on whether you buy into the agenda min2MAX sets out to accomplish. As mentioned, the music on here is more for your mood rather than to make you move; it’s far better suited to sitting back and listening to despite a few booty-shakin’ worthy moments. Although I’m not a big indulger of the minimal sounds of techno, I have to admit I still found myself occasionally getting lost in the murky atmosphere of these tracks.

min2MAX gives a suitable balance of sounds for the curious. If you want to hear what the fuss regarding minimal is, this is a safe purchase.

Front Line Assembly - Millennium

Roadrunner Records: 1994

Bill Leeb swears it wasn’t a bandwagon jump, but it’s hard not to suspect so. Industrial rock was gaining traction within the rock world at large, an intriguing alternative for those burned out by grungey alternative rock clogging up the airwaves. It also didn’t hurt all those weird, piercing electronic noises made perfect soundtracks to cyberpunk movies and CD-ROM games (oh, early ‘90s…), a perfect bridge for the technologically savvy and metal-head types out there. Still, I’m willing to give him the benefit of doubt, he and Rhys Fulber taking Front Line Assembly out of the realms of pure EBM and closer to proper-rock territory. Their sound was due for a shake up, EBM coming off a tad dated in the wake of Nine Inch Nails’ The Downward Spiral.

Oops, I’m getting ahead of myself. Just in case you aren’t aware (hi, post-Silence Delerium fans!), Front Line Assembly was Bill Leeb’s main music project for a good decade before a side project of his grew even more popular. Along with Skinny Puppy (of whom he was once a member), Front 242, and Nitzer Ebb, he was instrumental in developing electronic body music as a dancier, purely electronic off-shoot of industrial. It gained popularity in underground clubs and the seedier side of dance culture, but as all things born of the ‘80s, the scene eventually fizzled out in the ‘90s as bands moved onto industrial rock or aggrotech (industrial techno!). Front Line Assembly were no exception, Millennium being their own take on guitar-infusion body music.

Only they kinda cheated in the process, sampling and replaying heavy metal riffs from Pantera, Sepultera, and Ministry as a complement to their EBM rhythms. Well, if that’s the way they’re gonna do it, may as well take from musically compatible sources. Ministry were already considered an industrial group (though more heavy rock than EBM or thrashing metal), while Pantera and Sepultera were incredibly groove-orientated with their riffage; a perfect complement, then.

It doesn’t always work, as tracks like Vigilante and Division Of A Criminal are too far outside of Front Line’s EBM comfort zone to sound like anything other than wonky attempts at industrial rock on their part (and let’s not get into the woeful go at ‘industrial-rap’ on Victim Of A Criminal). Nay, this fusion truly flies when we’re still dealing with good ol’ soaring synths, blistering electronics, thrilller movie samples, and those gloriously over-the-top, operatic, ear-wormy melodic passages; the cathartic bliss in the mechanized rage. I honestly can’t take it seriously (am I supposed to?), but it sure is fun getting swept into Leeb’s distorted, menacing singing in This Faith, Search And Destroy, and Liquid Separation. Plus, those chugging, funky guitars sound great in Surface Patterns, Plasma Springs, and titular cut Millennium.

At best, this album’s an experiment on Front Line’s part at taking their sound in a different direction. It doesn’t always hit (God, Victim is so stupid), but when it does, it ranks high among anything Leeb and Fulber’s made over the years.

Fehrplay - Meow

Ministry Of Sound America: 2010

It’s a given that the PR blurbs that come with new singles are ridiculous. If you were to take them at face value, you’d swear every new tune was the greatest composition ever created. Of course, that ain’t true, but it can make for some hilarious reading whenever they overshoot. Sometimes, they’re so bold in their ambition that they’ll bestow ‘classic’ status upon a track well before it’s even had a chance to get properly rinsed out. Like this one.

Oh, Meow definitely has the potential to become a hit, even if it’s ballsy to declare it a WMC anthem nearly a month before the event even starts. Thing is Ferhplay has checked off (re: style-bitten) many of the things that has made many an Eric Prydz track a hit. The hook is instantly likeable, the beats have quality bounce, the supporting ‘piano’ chords will bob heads, and all the whooshy effects are tastefully done; then, it’s arranged such that the vibe never falters. There’s no new ground being broken here but with a track this shamelessly fun, does it matter? Certainly not, so Meow looks primed to be at least a minor hit for the main room crowds.

The B-side of this digital promo is

Then I stopped typing, stared at the computer screen, and asked myself, “Why am I still doing this? Nothing I write matters and all these free digi-EP promos I’m being sent won’t have any lasting impact upon electronic music. Fuck it. Fuck everything.”

Yes indeed, it was cynicism towards over-zealous PR that finally broke me, despite managing a few more reviews before truly quitting. It didn’t help I was suffering from multiple bouts of work and college related stress, relationship and financial depression, and just generally feeling poo at the time, but there it is - the honest-to-God impetus for giving up writing reviews about new music. I’m feeling better now, thankfully.

I imagine it’s a self-defeating, futile and sick, sick, sick environment, the world of promo-PR. How many times do copy-writers hype a track to the high ends of the Earth, only for said track to get completely passed by without a notice or care. Hell, Fehrplay’s Meow was one of the best ones of at least a dozen digi-promos I went through, hence why I tried writing a review for it, plus got picked up by Ministry Of Sound and Hed Kandi for compilation duty on all their major releases (Annual, Clubber’s Guide …Miami Fashion District?). Nor was I the only one to make the Prydz connection, as Jonas von der Fehr released his second single, Incognito, on Pryda Friends. Meow truly could have been a major hit like the promo guys claimed. Yet, do you remember this tune? For that matter, did you even know it existed, because Amazon.com sure doesn't.

Anyhow, to finish this four year aborted review, the B-side is titled Meow Again. It’s an electro-house version, and not as good as the original Meow. Yay, done, finished.

Banco de Gaia - Memories Dreams Reflections (2014 Update)

Disco Gecko: 2009

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.)

I promise this is the last Banco de Gaia for a good long while. Pinky-swearsie, I do! Well, until that 20th anniversary edition of Maya arrives in the mail. Or Mr. Marks happens to release another album with a title falling within my alphabetical stipulation. Beyond that though, it’ll be a long time, for sure a very long time.

What wasn't so long ago was the release of Memories Dreams Reflections; at least, it doesn't feel that long ago. Four-point-five years though, that's practically a lifetime in raver years. Heck, most give up on 'the scene' in that amount of time. I sure didn't, but then, coming of age in the hinterlands of Canada didn't provide much opportunity for the quick, burn-out turnaround many go through. Actual parties were few and far between, whereas the big cities often got away with one every weekend. By the time I got to a big city with such a scene (Vancouver), it was on the downswing, most of the old-schoolers having moved on or found new homes in the ‘classier’ club scene (woo, legal alcohol!). In re-branding raves as ‘music festivals’, we’re seeing the upswing of a new generation , but if the typical reveler lifespan holds true, the first wave of burn-outs will start in short order, if not already.

What of the hold-outs, though? What keeps us going to these events, listening to this music? I’ve often asked myself this, and the answer always comes back to the search for that ‘perfect’ party. Sometimes it’s a desire to re-capture something from one’s youth, other times it’s a hope to experience it just once, but in the end, there’s long been a romanticism associated with losing oneself to the all-night dance. A proper refuge for the ostracized of society, a rebellion against mainstream conformity, escapism – it’s why electronic music always retreats back to the underground after flirtations with commercial success, as the very concept of the culture is directly counter to what society deems proper behavior (work your job, raise your family, watch your TV, etc.). Those who still partake in this scene often find a way of balancing the two, either making club culture their primary job (DJs, musicians, promoters), or only going to select events they feel will come as close to being their idea of a ‘perfect’ party as any; for yours truly, I’m definitely of the latter sort.

I suppose, on some sub-conscious level, that’s why I’ve been systematically going through all the music I’ve gathered: an attempt at piecing together my time involved with electronic music’s ever-evolving scene. What’s lead me down the musical paths I’ve taken? Why do I find some genres more favorable than others? Could things have been different if I’d been exposed to different parties and music? Why didn’t other counter-culture music, like punk or metal, appeal in a similar fashion?

Yeah, sorry there’s nothing ‘updated’ in this post. Guess I took the whole Memories Dreams Reflections concept to heart this time.

Beck - Mellow Gold

Bong Load Records: 1994

Now who the Hell is this guy all of a sudden, and what's with this hit single Loser? It's got a hip-hop beat going for it, and Beck's even rapping on it, but there's bluesy, country twang making up the hook. And his appearance on the back of Mellow Gold, that's grunge wear, me bucko. It just don't add up! Awesome song though. It also propelled Beck from an utterly unknown entity to overnight star, practically sustaining his wild and wonky musical career as a result.

Loser remains Mr. Hansen's top charting single, even though follow-up albums like Odelay and Sea Change were overall better selling LPs compared to Mellow Gold. Come to think of it, there weren't any other successful chart-topping singles off this album either. Uh oh, Beck's debut is one of those albums, isn't it - known for that one killer song, and a whole bunch of forgotten filler. Pft, if you honestly believe that, you don't know Beck. Still, for many folks out there coming to Mellow Gold looking for more sing-along anthems like Loser, they were in for a world of confuddlement.

Psychedelic blues is the main name of Beck's game on this album, with liberal amounts of rock, punk, folk, and electronic beat-craft rounding things out. If you're someone who admires song writing, ingenuity, musical skill, and the swagger to pull it all off on a freakin' debut, then Mellow Gold is definitely for you. Despite lacking anything else as immediately catchy as Loser, Beck's diversity of sound is catnip for those into bold music making. There's 'soaked-in-booze' lo-fi mourners like Pay No Mind, Whiskeyclone, Hotel 1967, and Steal My Body Home (hey, who put this acid in my bourbon?), upbeat funk on Beercan and Soul Sucking Jerk, noise freak-outs like Sweet Sunshine, Mutherfucker and secret-song Analog Odyssey, and sunny psychedelic folk-rock like Blackhole and Fuckin' With My Head. Yessir, there's a lot of different kind of music on Mellow Gold, for sure. Unfortunately, that's also its problem.

While this album's supposed to have a running theme of Los Angeles on the skids, it's rather obtuse under all his mumbly-singing. Besides, that's just the blues, man, but for all folks knew, it was also Beck's style, a modern-day blues-smith based out of the City Of Angels. Confounding things further is all the stylistic hopping he does, hobbling any album flow when playing Mellow Gold front to back. It comes off like Mr. Hansen had a ton of musical inspiration and, being the youthful cavalier he was, made any ol' tune that sprung forth from his mind. And if I'm struggling with this album in this regard, I can only imagine the poor folks who only bought it for Loser. Probably left his career in the rear-view mirror post-haste. Ooh, who’s this OMC?

Ah well, who cares about those people. Beck's endured for two decades now, despite never having a commercial success like Loser again. I'm sure he's perfectly happy how things turned out thusly.

Meditronica - Meditronica (Original TC Review)

RareNoise Records

(2014 Update:
Not much to add to this one. I probably detailed too much 'bass guitar musician history' than was necessary, but I was looking for a broad angle such that those not interested in dub-heavy music would still have something interesting to read. In the end, it was just more Laswell talk.

This remains the only Meditronica album, not including a remix EP that came out a year later. Nearing five years old now, and there's been little info on whether Ashtech and Polcari are planning a follow-up. For that matter, Ashtech's still yet to follow-up his debut solo album too. What's up with that? Still, RareNoise Records, the label that was launched with this album, has done quite well for itself, though is far more jazzy prog-rock than I'd care to indulge in anytime soon.)


IN BRIEF: Dub on the beach.

Probably one of the most noteworthy things about Ashtech’s debut was the fact it was such a solid album through …for a bassist. Typically, at least in rock circles, bassists make for poorer musicians when they go solo instead of being a part of a group. Sure, guys like Paul McCartney, Roger Waters, and Sting have had respectable solo careers, but compared to the material they wrote while in their famous groups, it pales. On the other hand, perhaps it was Ashtech’s built-in familiarity with Jamaican dub music (not to mention producer Gaudi’s steadying hand) that made the transition to solo work all the more easy. Even then though, it’s rather remarkable, given the track-record of similar musicians. Take Bill Laswell. The man has an insanely vast discography, but generally speaking his collaborative work outshines his solo work (Rockit, anyone?).

In some ways, this Meditronica project of Ashtech’s reminds me of any number of Laswell’s groups, in that given the players involved there’s potential for something interesting. Here, ol’ Ash has paired up with Polcari, a frequent keyboarding wingman for several notable dub musicians (er, including Laswell – the guy’s just everywhere). Sounds like a strong combination for more dubbed out fun, and you do get that on this album. Unfortunately, as also has been the case with many a Laswell project, you get a distinct lack of focus in the process.

To cut to the chase, Meditronica sounds more like a couple guys jamming in the studio than a concerted effort to create a unique moniker that will stand out from the annual dub crowds. Honestly, the ideas are all over the place, which is surprising for a tidy ten-track album. Of course, you have your bass-heavy dub cuts like The Third Planet, Azimuth Navigation, and Mare Nostrum, but Ashtech wasn’t in the mood to retread Walkin’ Target. Rather, the whole reason for creating Meditronica with Polcari (along with other Italians like guitarist Eraldo Bernocchi and vocalist Raiz) was to inject Mediterranean influences into the dub template. Sure enough, there are little nuggets of Ibizan bliss that’ll remind some folks of perennial Balearic acts like Sven van Hees or any number of Café Del Mar compilations, though more prominent at the end with tracks Byblos From Above and Black Haik. Elsewhere, Northern African vocal flair is added to tracks Dame Paz and Ki Eshmera Shabbat, which should appeal to folks who enjoy that sort of thing. Mostly though, this release is about dub textures as our intrepid musicians noodle about in their jam sessions.

It is all perfectly pleasant music to hear, just very unassuming in the process. Meditronica is almost infuriating in how it can be casually thrown on and simply disappear into the background. This is an album that you feel should hit something higher, as any one of these tracks would undoubtedly stand out as a highlight on a themed compilation of similar tunes. Yet, it never quite does. Stuff like Rainbow Rain and Andromeda are lovely little listens but all too quickly fades from your head. The seemingly carefree way in which these songs are written and arranged makes it incredibly hard to contextualize them in the album, and their lasting impact is lessened as a result.

Despite this, Meditronica is a safe purchase for dub connoisseurs. Even those who fancy Mediterranean chill will find some enjoyment here. Ashtech and Polcari have something going for them with this project, but they need to figure out exactly what that something is if they want to take it to another level. Otherwise, Meditronica will probably fall by the wayside much like Laswell’s Divination did.

Various - Mechanophobia (Original TC Review)

Trishula Records: 2006

(2014 Update:
This was my proper introduction to the then-current sound of dark psy, of which is plainly obvious as I'm often referring to it by an earlier sub-genre term that was common at the turn of the century. I honestly had no idea that the whole dark psy sub-scene had evolved into a ton of disparate night-themed sub-sub categories by the mid-'00s, but I sure did soon enough. At least there are still 'tekk' attributes on here, given the theme of the compilation. Hell, it's why I blindly picked it up to begin with. The CD's still fine for dark psy, but not one I pull out often. At least it introduced me to the awesome that is Olien though.

Oh, that opening paragraph? You'll have to wait until I reach the 'S's to find out what that's all about, if you don't already.)


IN BRIEF: Fear the machines.

Reviewing Armin van Buuren’s latest opus to the decay of popular trance left me a broken man. It took me into a reservoir of pent-up aggression which was finally unleashed, an ugly though necessary blemish on my otherwise tolerant track record. I needed time to let that scab heal, so I decided to indulge a little in that polar opposite of epic trance: psytekk.

For the uninitiated, psytekk is an offshoot of the psy trance scene. Fusing the cold mechanical aesthetics of techno and the warped soundscapes of psy, this style of music isn’t for the faint of heart. In the realm of psytekk, the machines are in total control, trampling whatever hope humanity may have without taxing a single circuit. Other times though, it just comes across as glitchy, minimal, sound-effects wankery. I suppose it depends on how much you buy into the themes the music attempts to create.

When compiling this release, Trishula Records decided not to pussyfoot the issue, and gathered a collection of the most current, uncompromising psy around. The cover art for Mechanophobia is quite clear in what kind of theme to expect here: the robots rule the roost, a barren landscape ideal for metal but nothing organic. Whatever life as we know it remains is paltry, insignificant, yet still struggling on despite the odds; a cool, if timeworn concept. Let’s see how it is put into practice here.

Our first track is from Mubali, produced specifically for this compilation. Also the titular cut, it gets us off on the right foot, consisting of sound effect samples any self-respecting Trekkie will recognize as background ambience of a Borg ship - and few things are as frightening as the concept of the Borg. The track progresses through an assortment of warped mechanical soundscapes while a stuttery, monotone bassline relentlessly growls with the driving rhythms. As with a lot of this kind of stuff, there really aren’t any noticeable hooks, merely passages where the sounds at work will find structure for a bit before moving onto something else. The final stanza does give us a brief hook though.

Japan Connection from Mind Distortion System is a little more traditional psy. The main hook that worms its way around is kind of a whispery shuffle while paranoid pads, stuttery psy synths, and quirky sound effects complement it. But, um, what’s with those pauses to play a sample of a folksy whistle tune? A clever joke that missed the mark? Perhaps, or I just don’t get it [edit: it’s from Kill Bill, 2006 Sykonee].

Anyhow, Polyphonia’s Ano Kato eradicates any trace of lingering goofiness from Japan Connection with an utterly uncompromising assault of menacing psytekk. No hooks or family-friendly rhythms here; just overbearing mechanical sound effects demolishing human sensibility. And the beats don’t let up either, pummeling away and growing ever increasingly aggressive as the sound effects do. Yeah, it’s a noisy, incoherent track that would definitely get plenty of “Turn that shit off!” complaints from those not hip to this stuff, but then Ano Kato isn’t trying to be anything but.

The Baba Jelly track aside - which has a goofier tone to it, including a pure ‘what the fuck?’ moment when a sample of some drunken pirate jig interrupts the track - much of Mechanophobia carries on in the same vein as Ano Kato: very driving, very mechanical, and very uninviting to the casual listener. You’d have to be completely absorbed in the atmosphere these tracks create if you hope to get anything out of them, as feeding you easily digestible melodies is furthest from these producers’ minds.

Unfortunately, the fact they all make use of the same sort of bass as outlined in the title track complicates things. Not only are the soundscapes uncooperative if you want something catchy, but the rhythms aren’t diverse enough, making things repetitive from track to track. Granted, there are slight differences the acute listener will pick out, and Olien’s Calamari carries some wicked resonance that’ll absorb you within its suffocating menace, but much of this will probably pass you by if you were to merely throw it on as background music.

The mold is finally broken with Procs’ bizarrely titled Big Fat Large Snoring Lamas. This is one of the most utterly demented tracks I’ve heard in quite some time. My best attempt at describing it goes something like this: a country-fair funhouse, controlled by insane clown droids, as seen through a distortion field while tripping on a hallucinogen. I don’t know if that makes sense, but Snoring Lamas is quirky fun anyways, just because the warped soundscapes and bouncy rhythms are still incredibly catchy without dipping into the cheese factory. Your attention will never stray, always intrigued by what bit of unpredictable madness will crop up next.

The compilation closes on Psyfactor’s Vodka Madness, a more typical excursion into psy trance’s arena than most of what we’ve heard throughout. It is still a dark, twisted track, but chunky acid hooks and oddball sounds form a more accessible foundation compared to everything else.

For those after a diverse assortment of tunes, Mechanophobia isn’t a remarkable compilation. It sticks to its theme throughout, and I suppose you can’t really fault it for that. There are a couple of shining moments which would grab a casual listener’s attention, but this is squarely aimed at the dark psy fans who enjoy their music as inhuman and non-musical as possible. The original industrial ethos lives on!

Enigma - MCMXC a.D.

Virgin: 1990/1999

While purists may balk at the idea of Enigma's debut being one of the most important electronic albums ever, it's hard to deny its lasting influence on various scenes. An immediate hit with both mainstream New Age types and underground S&M sorts, it kicked off an insane amount of copycats, figuring lumping any ol' chant with a bare-bone electronic rhythm would produce similar chart success. A few did in the ensuing years, but none to the degree that Michael Cretu accomplished with MCMXC a.D.

The album’s appeal truly was a case of everything falling into the right place at the right time. For one, New Age was sweeping middle-America, so anything with soothing, meditative pads had a good chance of gaining some crossover interest. Second, with eroticism sweeping middle-America thanks to movies like 9½ Weeks, folks were far more accepting of risqué concepts like Sadeness, Mea Cupla, and Principles Of Lust. Hell, a title like Sadeness should have turned heads alone, and here it was tearing up the charts while couples tore off their clothes as seductive French voices and ethnic woodwinds played out (mind, confusion over the title likely helped divert controversy). Key to its timelessness, however, are the Gregorian chants, as few things suggest chaste traditions as readily as Catholicism. The incredibly taboo combination of seduction and piety made these tunes hits with fetishists, soundtracking many a sex club ...if Single White Female is accurate, anyway. Unfortunately, it wasn’t long before every Skinemax flick starring Shannon Tweed was style-biting Enigma’s sound, rendering it cliche; thus its small surprise Mr. Cretu mostly abandoned the eroticism by his second album.

As for the rest of MCMXC a.D., the other single off here was The Rivers Of Belief, which retains most of the elements of Sadeness, though opts for New Age platitudes instead. As a closer that bookends the album, it works, but likely due to Cretu’s singing, it’s not as fondly remembered as the other hits off here. Knocking On Forbidden Doors is a surprising little gem of an instrumental though, kind of a b-side to Mea Culpa and getting downright trance at times. Not sure what The Voice & The Snake was about, besides being the oddest interlude in Enigma’s discography. The sun turned cold? What is this, the apocalypse?

When the album was re-issued in 1999, it came bundled with a bonus EP containing the original remixes of Sadeness and Mea Culpa, none of which are terribly interesting. Fading Shades Mix of Mea Culpa mashes the latter’s vocals onto Rivers Of Belief, and that’s about as all worth checking out if you’re curious.

Whatever preconceived notions you might have regarding Enigma’s general career (*cough*cheesyworldbeatNewAgebollocks*cough*), it shouldn’t deter you from checking out MCMXC a.D.. You’ve likely heard the music over the years, and will likely hear it again. Despite often being imitated, Enigma’s debut remains as unique and timeless as the day it came out. Hell, it wouldn’t surprise me if Sadeness still plays in S&M dungeons. Can anyone confirm this?

Banco de Gaia - Maya (Original TC Review)

Mammoth Records: 1994

(2014 Update:
Bleagh, another super-duper long review from the year 2006. My God, how many of these did I write? True, it was the first proper opportunity I got at splurging my Banco de Gaia knowledge for TranceCritic, but given how many Banco albums I've gone over for this blog now (8 albums and 2 singles!), the opening few paragraphs are incredibly redundant.

What will make this review even more redundant is the fact a limited 20th Anniversary edition of Maya's due to come out this week. Which I've obviously gone and ordered for myself. This isn't as fanboyish as it seems, since it's a triple-disc set (!!) full of unreleased remixes and live takes, plus my original copy of Maya had a digital defect on the final track anyway. At least with this old review up, I don't have to talk about the main album details. I mean, with how much I wrote here, what else is left to say?)


IN BRIEF: Early music from the World Bank.

[The opening paragraph contained unnecessary information, so I've removed it]

Of course, my enjoyment of Banco de Gaia shouldn’t be any secret to steady readers of TranceCritic. I’ve continuously name-dropped him all over the place, and for good reason: Marks’ music has had a significant influence on my tastes over the years. From the very moment I heard Shanti some dozen years ago (a different version, mind, not the one here), I was hooked for life. All those whom I exposed Banco tracks to often came to my same conclusion: the music from the World Bank was entirely in a class of its own, impossible to pigeonhole, and always captivating.

Ah yes, I can see your ‘Fanboy Warning’ alarms already flashing. Perhaps this is why I’ve held off covering any Banco releases for so long. Although we’ll never try to hide the fact any review of music will have some subjectivity, we still try to maintain an element of objectivity as far as our conscience allows. While I’d love to give Maya glowing praise for being a Banco release, the music critic in me can hear the faults and inconsistencies; if we’re to maintain our credibility, I’m going to have to point these out. But before I do that, a brief history leading up to this album (don’t worry, it’s relevant).

Before Maya, Marks was getting known through his association with the Megadog syndicate, often touring along with the likes of Eat Static. He did release a few cassette albums during those years but none could see official distribution due to many uncleared samples. However, this didn’t stop the Banco project from getting tapped for songs to be featured on Beyond’s seminal Ambient Dub series, where Marks’ profile grew exponentially. A full-length was inevitable and, in 1994, it came to pass.

But which audience was Marks to aim for? The Megadog partiers? The fans of his Ambient Dub contributions? Or should he shoot for a broader audience with the larger distribution now available? Maya has a feeling about it that seems Marks was attempting to please all parties involved. As is often the case in this situation, the end result can feel a bit disjointed and uncertain.

Opening track Heliopolis is as indicative of this as any. True, the sweeping vocal samples and exotic atmosphere is definitely a Banco trademark, but everything else comes off flat. The rhythm doesn’t have enough drive to it, and the squelchy arpeggiating synth sounds under-produced for a track where other attributes shine.

Mafich Arabi, one of the few tape-only tracks to be rescued, also has some problems, but at least the rhythm makes up for it in this case. Pretty much a straight-forward funky tribal stompfest, an assortment of drum loops beat away as chants and Middle-Eastern hooks accompany them. The chants are wonderful, easily lodging in your head so you can’t help but join in. The hooks, though, are a bit suspect. I don’t mind them, but if Middle-Eastern melodies aren’t your game, even an infectious rhythm and chant may have trouble drawing you in for the duration.

The dubby, groovy Sunspot is a pleasant diversion, but the violin solo in the middle may be a turnoff, as it sounds like it was thrown in just for the fun of it (really, Marks is good for one of these moments in every album). However, I can find no fault in Gamelah’s approach to trance. It isn’t a high-tempo song, but it doesn’t need to be. The tribal rhythms are brisk enough to groove to, and the combination of chants and spacey, sweeping synths is an effective pairing. Definitely one for the outdoor gatherings.

Still, the ambient dub material was where Banco garnered a large chunk of fans at this point, so Marks treats them to a mellow, dubbed-out bit of bliss with Qurna. Synthy pad washes, tranquil grooves, seaside sound effects, and warm melodies all come together to form a sonic treat for you to lie back to.

The final stretch mostly contains tracks from the Beyond compilations... after a fashion: Lai Lah and Shanti were both remixed for Maya.

Sheesha comes first though. I’ve never been able to grasp what Marks was shooting for in this track. The intro of it shows promise, as many layers of deep, dubby sound effects, samples, and burbly electronics are gradually added. Once the rhythm kicks in though, the plot seems lost. Nothing quite melds together like you’d think it could, and Sheesha ends up wandering aimlessly despite the strengths of the individual components.

Lai Lah, on the other hand, works brilliantly despite all the elements sounding a bit chaotic. Chalk it up to a great rhythm (probably the best on here) and some crafty sample work. A breakdown allows just the strumming samples to play with a recording of a couple’s argument underneath. As this goes on, a mournful synth melody gradually grows in prominence, finally capping off at the end of the argument before being thrust right back into the rhythm. Now that’s a unique breakdown and build!

What Marks does with Shanti may be hit or miss with listeners, as he takes the track into a kind of jam-band excursion. Each element - bassline, rhythms, vocal chants, dubby keyboards, warm pads - gets a chance to play on their own before segueing into the next while white-noise effects pulse in the background. I can see this not being all that interesting if you like your songs focused and compact, but I quite like this. Besides, as far as dubby noodling goes, this is still a relatively coherent go at it. And when the pads do make their appearance towards the end of the Shanti? Yeah... magic.

Finally we end on Maya, a collaboration with Andy Guthrie. Here, Marks gets to show off some of his prog-rock influences as he breaks out the guitar while twinkly bells and all the usual exotic soundscapes fill in the atmosphere. For what it is, this is a decent enough track, and probably one of the more unique ones in this early stage of the Banco life; it’s certainly closer in sound to current offerings than most of what’s been heard on this album.

And that’s probably something to keep in mind should you be new to Maya (the album, that is... damn, but is it ever annoying having title tracks at the end sometimes). If you got into Banco de Gaia after Marks made the project into a fully fleshed-out band, the tracks on offer here seem very simple in comparison - which, truthfully, they are. For the most part, you can hear Marks still playing by dance music’s rules, and it would be another couple years before his song-writing would find the confidence to do things his own way.

Despite this shortcoming, there is gold to be found underneath the rough edges. Some of the melodies on offer are wonderful to behold, and Marks had nailed the ambient dub template almost from the get-go. Maya may not be the most enduring Banco de Gaia album but fans of the project will still find little things about it that will keep them coming back to listen to again and again.