Various - Muzik Classics: Techno

Beechwood Music: 1999

Bliminy crimely, geezer, is this one mint collection. A two-CD pack spotlighting just about every important person in the world of early techno, complete with detailed liner notes at a wonderful Beechwood budget price. No, wait, come back! This isn't your typical crap Beechwood compilation of one-third recognizable tunes, and the rest a pile of no-name mock-ups. Rather, Muzik Magazine handled the tracklisting, as part of a short-lived series promoted by the rag showcasing classics of electronic music yore. There was one for drum 'n bass, one for Ibiza anthems, and finally this one for techno. Shame they didn't keep going to include trance, though there was that one free-CD they gave out a few years after.

While I've given Muzik plenty of props in the past, they deserve extra-so for these discs. Aside from a few top tier DJs, techno as a whole was on something of a downswing in the late ‘90s, other genres and scenes the current hotness as far as the clubbing world was concerned. Trance, house, progressive, d’n’b, breaks (nu-skool or big beat), UK garage: these were all far more comparably popular in record stores. Techno was what you’d play late-late at night, and usually only the hard, bangin’ stuff. If some dewy-eyed young punter stumbled upon Muzik Classics: Techno and learned somthing, then the magazine had done its job in providing positive education for the kids (including Slam’s Positive Education on here).

As this is a retrospective on techno’s formative years, all the significant regions of the time are accounted for: Detroit, UK, Germany, Detroit, other US cities, Detroit, Belgium, Detroit, Detroit, Canada by way of Detroit, and Detroit; sorry, Japan, you were a little late to the techno game for this box set. The tracklist features nearly every classic you should have heard of at some point, including Strings Of Life, Red 2, Circus Bells, Flash, Energy Flash, Spastik Flash, Acpreience 1 Flash, plus a flash of electro from Cybotron’s Clear. More interesting are the lesser known cuts and aliases from prominent producers, such as 69’s Jam The Box (Carl Craig), F.U.S.E.’s Substance Abuse (Hawtin), Dark Comedy’s War Of The Worlds (Kenny Larkin), and Aphrohead’s In The Dark (Felix da Housecat, although it’s the Dave Clarke Mix in this case).

Muzik Classics: Techno also serves as a handy bluffer’s guide to the various sub-genres within that scene. Dub techno gets its nod from Phylyps’ Trak II and P.A.S.’ Booster, minimal is repped by DBX’ Losing Control (plus Hawtin, of course), the ravey stuff is handled by CJ Bolland’s Horsepower, acid gets an additional look from Laurent X’s Machines, and even sample-heavy ambient tribal-techno has its moment from Bandulu’s Guidance. Oh, and lots of Detroit techno too.

Is this the most comprehensive collection of classic techno you’ll ever find? Nah, guy, the whole of Lord Discogs is your bet for that. For something more physical and affordable, however, this double-discer’s definitely one of the better starting points on learning the roots of the genre.

Various - Musik Non Stop

Hypnotic: 1996

Criminey blimey, gov', is this one dodgy collection. You’d think a 3CD set of Music Research material as licensed out by Hypnotic would have me all squee, but even I must raise an eyebrow over how this one was put together. Between Hypnotic and Cleopatra before it, I’ve gathered a decent amount of music from Talla 2XLC’s pioneering label. Some compilations were great, some not as much, yet you could at least count on original material with each release those first few years. That well of German trance had to run dry eventually though (especially with Talla shutting doors), and repeat tracks became increasingly common on Hypnotic compilations. At the same time, there must have been plenty of leftovers, tunes that just couldn’t fit on Trance Europe, Trance On Earth, Trance 2001: A Trance Odyssey, or European Future Soundz (Excursion In Trance). What better way to clear out that Music Research backlog than a 3CD extravaganza!

Normally I’d break this review up into at least two separate ones, as my self-imposed word count often interferes with coverage of so much music. What’s the point, though? CD1 alone has six tracks I’ve either already talked about, or will down the line. The other two discs have more unreleased cuts through Hypnotic, but are easily summed up – it’s small wonder some of these never got a release until this collection.

But hey, three discs for the price of one was still a good deal back in the ‘90s, and at least you were getting something of a primer into Music Research’s catalogue, despite not being the cream of their crop. CD1 mostly handles the trance, including Komakino, Reel X, Cenobyte, Sunbeam, and a pile of Norman Feller, who steals the show with the one-off collaboration with pre-Timewriter Jean Cochois as Lesamis. Eternal Sleep’s a wonderful slice of riffy, floaty early trance, and it’s a shame these two didn’t collaborate more if they were making music like this. Ah well, that whole ‘tech-house’ thing they later spearheaded turned out alright too.

With a skip to CD3, we get treated to names like Aqualite, Audio Science, more Norman, Pascal F.E.O.S., and Beyond Reality’s Semi-Analogue. This is also the techno CD, or rather German trance guys doing Detroit techno. It’s not as interesting as it sounds, though Blitz! from Audio Science is a cool tune, because of course it is.

CD2’s where most of the fun’s found, hardcore beats and acid running rampant. There’s also copious cheese here too, some of the ridiculous cornball kind (Happy Ravers’ Hubert), others of the unabashedly gurning type (D-Lay’s Don’t Stop The Motion (E-Motion Mix)). Rolling pianos, cheeky phrases (“Hi, I hope you’re enjoying your trip.”), multi-tap delay pads, bells, and that’s just Urban Trance Plant. There’s even a chill Balearic cut opening the tracklist. CD2’s definitely worth the price of admission into Musik Non Stop if you’ve an ear for candy-coated acid rave of the mid-‘90s, and hey, there’s a few good tunes on the other discs too.

Prince - Musicology

Columbia: 2004

The music scene Prince had flourished within at his commercial peak was no longer recognizable, tons of young upstarts feeding the crowds with watered-down funk and drunk-dumb crowd pleasers. There was no soul in music anymore, no respect for the masters who’d laid the groundwork. Time to take the music back to its source, then - back to the old school that inspired him, with little to none of the modern trappings that plague contemporary music. And to kick off this initiative would be an advertising campaign unlike any other before, including an instantly catchy lead single paired with a perfectly charming video. Unfortunately, once the full album dropped, folks quickly realized all the media hype was just that, and were left with a disappointing product that could never have lived up to its build-up. Oh well, at least Daft Punk still earned a Grammy for the album. Wait a minute…

Yes, in an uncanny coincidence, the stories behind Prince’s Musicology and Daft Punk’s Random Access Memory are remarkably similar, although I suspect Daft Punk’s version will be talked about longer than Prince’s. When Mr. Nelson came out with Musicology, it was the first time in years the general music media showed interest in him again. Part of it likely was due to his induction into the Rock 'N Roll Hall Of Fame that same year; or maybe it was the fact his old label disputes throughout the '90s was finally subsiding, thus allowing Mr. Nelson to retain his famous performance name, and not some wonky symbol. It sure makes it easier for journalists to proclaim “Prince Is Back!”, even though he never really went away. Additionally, Musicology was a return to a major label for distribution, in this case Columbia. With everything pointing to a triumphant narrative, this album was destined to re-establish Prince as the preeminent tastemaker of all things funky and soulful, at a time when music critics so desperately wanted it so.

Yet within a year, Musicology was a distant memory, folks more intrigued by Prince’s growing free-distribution marketing instead. This, from an album that earned Mr. Nelson his first Grammys (two of them, even!) since the ‘80s. Not that those awards are worth much credibility anyway, but the point is for a collection of music that everyone pegged as an instant classic, folks instead instantly forgot about it.

Can’t say I blame them either. Hell, I bought into the hype, and aside from the titular cut, Illusion, Coma, Pimp, & Circumstance (kinda hip-hoppy), Cinnamon Girl (not a Neil Young cover), and The Marrying Kind (power chords!), I can never remember anything off here. There’s funk, there’s soul, there’s Prince, but where’s the ingenuity, the earworms, or the thrilling songcraft? In making an album that’s an ode to the music of his upbringing, he neglected to make it uniquely his. Anyone versed in classic R&B could write these tunes. With little on Musicology standing out from funk ‘n soul standards, the album quickly disappeared from public discourse.

Stardust - Music Sounds Better With You

Virgin Records: 1998

Friends, family, folks, and fairies: lend me your ears and eyes, for this is a tale of what could have been, but sadly wasn’t. Where the lights shone brilliantly for but a single slice of music-on-wax, then flittered away from a lack of confidence. Thomas Bangalter, he of the incredibly successful duo Daft Punk, riding high on the success of their debut album Homework; Alex Braxe, he of the not-as successful single Vertigo, but still a major component in an emerging French house scene.

The two paired up one chilly-warm Western European dusky-dawn, finding mutual love of vintage disco like Chic and Chaka Khan. “You know what would sound cool,” Bangalter said, “is if we took those disco rhythms and looped them a bunch.” “Like DJ Sneak is doing?” asks Braxe. “No, like Kenny “Dope” Gonzalez is doing,” Bangalter replied, his eyes glazing over at seductive filter knobs in the ramshackle, state-of-the-art studio they sat within. “Gee williker, Bangalter,” enthused Braxe-Boy, “that’s brilliant. Let’s make that track!” And so they did, unleashing Music Sounds Better With You as Stardust. The pseudonym was a nod to the Stardust casino from which they only had a passing familiarity with representing all that was wholesome and tacky of the ‘70s.

The single was a smash hit, almost outdoing Bangalter’s previous triumphs with Daft Punk. Moreso, it cemented the French house sound as endlessly loopy disco with a tight, funky ear for the filter. Such a simple idea, so often replicated, sometimes even bettered, but never as impactful as Music Sounds Better With You’s initial cataclysmic meteor drop. If this was their first track together, just imagine what their next efforts could be! No no, keep imagining them - it’s all you’re gonna’ get.

Bangalter and Braxe claimed they never made another tune under the guise because they lacked faith in themselves to better it. Well, that sucks, achieving your best on the first shot. You know what I think? I think Bangalter just wanted to hoard his filter-disco French house ideas to himself, hence having that “accident” with Homem-Christo that turned them into robots. Now freaks of nature, they could isolate themselves as Daft Punk exclusively, so tough beans to all of Bangalter’s former producing partners. Maybe if Braxe turned into a robot too, we’d get another Stardust single.

My copy of Music Sounds Better With You includes the original Bob Sinclar Remix, long since jettisoned when he and Bangalter had a falling out (woo, collector’s item now!). This was back when Sinclar was going from strength-to-strength with the rest of the French scene, and here he takes the track down smooth garage roads. Also here is the Chateau Flight Remix (more French folk), a choppier tech-filter rub-dub – handy for deeper sets. There was also DJ Sneak remixes, because of course there would be.

Eh? You say the tale I’ve told wasn’t entirely truthful? Well, what do you expect from a tale? If you want historical accuracy, go read the Wiki’.

Various - The Music Of Cosmos

Cosmos Studios: 1981/2000

How fortunate. I can talk about The Music Of Cosmos at a time when interest in Carl Sagan’s excellent series is part of the public discourse again, thanks to nu-Cosmos currently airing on TV. The Neil DeGrasse Tyson hosted series is pretty good so far, though tends to lack the gravitas the original held, too often bypassing the philosophical notions Sagan brought forth while explaining the wonders around us. The Alan Silvestri score sadly doesn’t help, missing those iconic musical cues that flourished throughout the original series. C’mon, mang, you did Back To The Future, you can do memorable themes. Only thing sticking so far is that bit of piano diddle in the opening credits, and only because it reminds me of the Contact score.

Right, right, this is an unfair comparison, but let’s be honest here: along with everything else, Cosmos stands peerless as a documentary because of its music. Not only did it include synth wizards of the era (Vangelis, Tomita, Synergy), but also works from classical composers (Mozart, Vivaldi, Bach, Pachelbel, Holst, Stravinsky), and even contemporary music like blues and prog-rock (Louis Armstrong, Roy Buchanan, Pink Floyd). No way could Silvestri compete with such a range of music, and one wonders why they didn’t try licensing music out like before. Surely nu-Cosmos has a bigger budget than the original. Did all the money go into those spiffy atom animations?

Whatever. Let’s focus on The Music Of Cosmos, proper original-like. The most famous pieces were the Vangelis compositions. In fact, you can’t hear the gentle piano of Heaven & Hell or synthy bell tones of Alpha without thinking Cosmos, the two completely intertwined in the public consciousness to this day. Folks probably figure Vangelis specifically wrote all these works for Cosmos, but were actually plucked from older albums. There are a couple exclusive synth works here though, both by an anonymous chap named Boydstun, whom even the mighty Lord Discogs knows nothing about. Hell, he never even made the cut on the original ’81 vinyl, though neither did several other works. Thank goodness for twenty year anniversary double-CD editions, eh?

One of the clever things about The Music Of Cosmos is how the tracks are arranged to tell a narrative of sorts, specifically of the cosmos as humanity’s come to understand it, and perhaps foresee our possible fates. Helping the tale along are sound effects bridging the music together. For instance, just before Vangelis’ Alpha starts, a massive explosion erupts from the desolate calm of Shostakovich’s Symphony No. 11. A supernova creating the heavier elements? I’d say so. Meanwhile on CD2, where technology’s run rampant, chainsaws mercilessly cut down old growth forest before the melancholy Prayer of St. Gegory emerges.

Not the most subtle of messages, that, but Sagan’s gift was presenting such messages as a means to inspire ourselves to become better than we are. The rich diversity of music presented in The Music Of Cosmos only proves humanity’s ability to do so.

Soliquid - Music Is For Rich People

Captured Digital: 2007

Soliquid, or Dávid Biczók to the European Empire, seemed like a guy that could do no wrong in the trance-slash-progressive scene of the late ‘00s. Already a favorite with the traditional Anjunabeat ‘crackers, he even got playlisted by the likes of Digweed and Hybrid (!), highly respected names regardless of what folks thought of the current state of their careers. A strong assortment of singles, including his biggest hit in Music Is For Rich People, built anticipation for a debut album, which dropped in 2009 as Transportation. And then Soliquid dropped from the face of Lord Discog’s existence. No follow-up singles, a few remix credits reaching no further than 2010, and that’s all Mr. Biczók wrote. The business side of music must have soured him severely to abandon it so; or maybe he settled down with a family.

I recall being intrigued enough by a few of his tracks to hunt down the single for Music If For Rich People, and even intended to review it for TranceCritic. Upon finding it though, I discovered it was already a year old, which might as well be a hundred where singles in music journalism are concernted. Off to the dusty corners of a burned disc it thusly went. Shame I didn't review it, as perhaps the ol' TC bump could have inspired Mr. Biczók to keep producing to this day, our voice having enough sway to- ahahaha! Oh, that's funny.

Anyhow, the original version of Musical People Of Richness is one hell of a bangin’ track. I’m astounded such a hard piece of trance didn’t chase away all those progressive house jocks who picked up Soliquid’s other singles, but then Mr. Biczók did claim to have diversity as part of his manifesto. Even this cut’s got plenty going for it: fierce-as-fuck rhythms, electro dressings, twinkly breakdown, and a glitch-laden build. Good stuff.

The remixes got more attention though, especially so the Mat Zo Remix, one of that guy’s earliest works. It has all the hallmarks of latter-era McProg, and I remain stunned that I’m still digging those grumbly basslines and twinkly melodies; or maybe Mr. Zo’s reputation is well deserved and he crafted an excellent example of the sound. Meanwhile, Cerf & Mistika provide a rub that checks traditional prog-house boxes, though has the whiff of Armada blandness about it. At the other end is the Sunny Lax Remix, doing your bog-standard epic-uplifting-melodic Anjunabeats eurotrance that’s fun to hear on its own, but is just pants in most sets. Still, I’m sure the Anjuna kids would kill for a return to this sound from their favored label. Oh, and Biczók does an epic-uplifting-melodic remix of his own under his Bëlmondo guise, but who cares about that when there’s the kick-ass original?

If you missed this EP before and have a minor hankering for trance of 2007, Music Is For Rich People’s definitely worth a look back on. It hints at a promising lengthy career that sadly never materialized.

Boards Of Canada - Music Has The Right To Children

Warp Records: 1998/2004

What is it about Music Has The Right To Children that's allowed it to endure as a classic album within electronic music's long history? Is it the positive impact it had on the IDM market, rescuing that scene from ever-deepening navel gazing experimentation? Is it how it lured in a tonne of proto-hipster kids after Boards Of Canada were NME and Pitchfork Approved, one of the first electronic albums made so during the net-‘zine's early years? Might it be the perfect timing of this LP's release, capturing the attention of an ageing raving demographic that found itself wistfully longing for the innocence of their youth? Will this paragraph have at least one sentence that isn't in the form of a question?

The answer to all but the last of these is “yes”. In a broader sense, Music Has The Right To Children was one of the few electronic albums of the ‘90s that had wide appeal no matter your background, surprising many with its charming tone. Just take an impossibly geeky style of electronic music like ‘70s analog synth work, and pair it with an impossibly cool style of electronic music, in this case trip-hop. It’s such a simple idea, one wonders why no one thought of it before Boards Of Canada. Who could have guessed that the BBC Radiophonic Workshop and Ninja Tune getting sexed up was something folks longed for.

Much has been said about the nostalgic nature of Musically Right-Handed Children, many theories out there why this album touches folks the way it does. The playful bounce of Roygbiv and quirky sampling of Aquarius certainly plays a part in recalling those days of childlike whimsy, yet as we age, a warped sense of cynicism creeps in too. The off-kilter “love”s in The Color Of The Fire, disconcerting synth tones of Sixtyten, or rhythmically-chopped vocals of Telephasic Workshop suggest the world we grew up in wasn’t so perfect after all.

Still, it’s all theory, and for all we know, Boards Of Canada just enjoy toying with different emotions in their music. Ultimately, what wormed its way into the minds and hearts of countless fans were simple, catchy moments. The aforementioned Aquarius is a perfect example, no one able to mention BoC and the word “orange” without saying it in the goofy way that it does in that track. This album’s filled with such quirks, often tucked away in brief sonic doodles throughout. I’d wager the duo’s at their best when they focus less on song craft and simply indulge themselves, but the few fully-formed tracks they do provide remains some of their most enduring work.

Music Has The Right To Children has one drawback though: those trip-hop rhythms. They sounded great in the late ‘90s, but over a decade of glitch rhythms since, I’m not sure newer audiences would dig them quite so much. Then again, the synths Boards Of Canada use sound older than time itself, and that’s never stopped folks from enjoying this album.

Nobuo Uematsu - Music From FFV And FFVI Video Games

Squaresoft: 1999

Not the dorkiest thing I have in my music collection, but this definitely has to be up there. I wouldn't even call this CD a part of my proper library; rather, it was a bonus disc in the PS1 release of Final Fantasy: Anthology. When I heard Squaresoft was bringing its past games to the Sony gaming system, I was elated. Final Fantasy III/VI had already brought incredible RPG moments during my all-too brief period of Super Nintendo enjoyment, and though I still had the original cart (even to this day, including packaging, booklets, and maps – make me an offer, collectors!), I'd long since given my SNES away. Having FFVI on a then-current system was a great chance to replay the game (I lacked a computer capable of playing emulators), plus us folks in the Americanas would finally get a proper port of Final Fantasy V. Sweet deal, right?

Eh, not as I'd hoped. Something I never considered – and maybe even Squaresoft overlooked – were the laggy loading times PS1 games suffered from. It didn't happen often, but anytime a pile of sprites ran across the screen (oh hi, Quasar Lore), the audio wouldn't load as fast. Meanwhile, FFV was disappointing, a seemingly rushed affair with overstuffed options and minuscule plot. I beat it once in one of the easiest final boss fights I’ve ever encountered in an RPG, defeating the giant space-tree with only one character spamming the Jump command and blocking everything with the Aegis equipment. I understand Squaresoft was more focused on producing FFVI at the time, and essentially rushed FFV out into the market, but that still-

What? Oh, sorry, got carried away there - this isn’t a gaming blog. Then again, giving a quick overview of the games within FF: Anthology helps explain this bonus CD’s oddities. Nobuo Uematsu’s work for FFVI was some of his best, the compositions he squeezed out of the Nintendo S-SMP nothing short of astounding, pushing the 16-bit soundcard to ridiculous levels of awesome (that echo and reverb!). The original score took up three CDs, so in making use of but a quarter of that material for FF: Anthology, careful consideration of track selection was... Nah, screw that. Here’s a bunch of wildly disparate music instead.

Only two character themes make it here: Terra and Mog. Out of a cast of fourteen, that’s it? Terra’s an obvious one, sure, but Mog? Mog!? Some of the other selections are definitely classic – the Phantom Forest music, Dark World, Wild West, Epitaph - but I doubt folks would take Johnny C Slam Spinach Shuffle Rag over Forever Rachel or anything Opera House related. I suspect the selected pieces are meant to show off Uematsu’s diversity rather than placate with fan favourites, but it still leaves this CD lacking in notable selling points.

As for the few FFV selections, they’re okay, though sound rather Nobuo Generic, if that’s any way to describe music. I’m sure Final Fantasy followers will know what I mean.

The Prodigy - Music For The Jilted Generation

XL Recordings: 1994

Probably the most successful reboot of a musical act ever accomplished, at least within the world of electronic music. Several have tried re-invention or adopted alternate aliases to explore other genres, but The Prodigy's flip from chart-topping happy rave hardcore act to credible guardians of the underground party is nothing short of remarkable. Just a couple years prior, everyone associated them with fun goofball hits like Charly and Out Of Space. Then, seemingly overnight, they're confronting you with punk attitudes and music to match. The Prodigy never lost their hardcore, they snatched it back from those who'd turned it into a joke.

What’s amazing about Music For The Jilted Generation is, while clearly a ‘90s album, it somehow exists out of time too. You throw on Experience, and you instantly know it’s of the early ‘90s hardcore scene. Fat Of The Land is undeniably part of big beat’s major market push, and anything released post-Millennium sounds exactly like that. The music on this album, however, didn’t have a scene to itself, and never would because no one tried emulating Jilted Generation - with any success anyway.

I suppose you could mark some tunes like Their Law and Poison as proto-big-beat, but what of the other tracks? Liam Howlett’s still using high-energy breakbeats, but rather than coupling them with rolling pianos and chipmunk vocals, you get synths that snarl, guitars that thrash, and rhythms that’ll have you moshing just as much as flailing. Plus, Jilted Generation’s pacing is impeccable, great memorable tunes like Break & Enter and Voodoo People interspersed perfectly with uptempo filler techno. Believe me, I use the word ‘filler’ as a good thing here, Full Throttle, Speedway and The Heat (The Energy) the simplistic musical ebbs that propel No Good and Poison into the standouts they are within Jilted. It was bloody rare in ’94 for a ‘techno-rave’ album showing such consideration to tracklisting.

Then there’s the Narcotic Suite at the end, a thematic run of the ups and downs of drug indulgences. If, following the rest of Jilted Generation, there were still doubts that ol’ Liam was just a one-trick production pony, this trilogy firmly proved otherwise. The evening starts chill and relaxed with acid jazz vibes of 3 Kilos, then we’re flying high into blissy energy with Skylined. Oh dear, we took too much, feeling that Claustophobic Sting, twisted acid and sketchy paranoia setting in as “my mind is going”. Where the fuck is that sinister laughter coming from! When folks bemoan The Prodigy just aren’t as good as they used to be, the Narcotic Suite is always one such example why, Howlett never recreating something of this nature since.

The same can be said for Jilted Generation as a whole, the album a clear bridge from where The Prodigy started to the next stage of their act. It could have resulted in a messy, hodge-podge LP of uncertain genre tests. Instead, it’s some of the best work of their career.

Beto Narme - Multiple Choice

Sublime Porte Netlabel: 2010

I have no recollection of how a digi-EP from an Istanbul net label found its way into my possession. As it's a 2010 release, I suspect it was part of some MP3 promo-pool I briefly subscribed to, but I've nothing else from Sublime Porte, which makes having this stranger still. If an MP3 promo was good enough for me to keep that year, I usually kept an eye on the label too, hoping another EP might get released that could knock me out of my then writing stupor. Maybe Sublime Porte simply lost its promotional power, unable to penetrate an overcrowded digital market. After all, who'd ever be interested in dubstep from Turkey?

If Multiple Choice is anything to go by, they should be. Right, it's impossible gauging a whole scene of an entire country based on four tracks from one label, but we gotta start somewhere. Plus, Sublime Porte’s still in operation, even recently taken a tentative step into the realm of limited-run CDr. They must be doing something right with their dub ambient techno dronestep if they’re still around, even though Lord Discogs tells me they don’t have a consistent roster. Even this Beto Narme, or Tufan Demir to the Istanbul legislate, has but this one four-year old EP to his name, though a smattering of remixes too. His Discogian bio is almost certainly out-of-date then, suggesting this was an “ever-growing dubstep project”. Maybe he got a high-paying job as that sound engineer he was striving for.

What held my interest with Multiple Choice was how, for an EP promoted as dubstep, it sounded very little like dubstep. Rather, Mr. Demir shows he’s definitely a student of Detroit and dub techno’s never-ending influence. Aside from occasional drags of the low end, Cellophane Dub is straight-up funky dub techno, including a breakbeat that’d have Carl Craig nodding approvingly. Elsewhere, Outranked Spectacles and Figment Dots gets closer to the half-step beat we’re all familiar with, but we’re still firmly floating in dub techno’s spacious waters. And warm waters they be, not those frigid, sterile bays other Detroit-inspired dubsteppers so loved to frequent. Beto Narme can’t help himself though, getting sucked into the lands of ‘wub’ on last cut Simmer Down. It’s a fine tune when you hear the vintage reggae vibes, I could just do without the requisite Rusko modulations every dubstep producer threw in during those days.

I have an almost inescapable bias against most forms of dubstep, subconsciously preparing myself for a given track letting me down by indulging in nonsensical, erratic drops. Aside from the aforementioned brief bit in Simmer Down, that moment never came on Multiple Choice, and I could enjoy all the polyrhythms without worry (dear God, I know different forms of dubstep). Yeah yeah, I know there’s tons of dubstep – sorry, post-dubstep (future garage?) like that out there. With so many netlabels pushing the stuff though, how does one even begin to filter it all out? Maybe start with this Turkish label?