Various - Greenosophy: Collected By Mizoo

Ultimae Records: 2012

What's Greenosophy's theme, exactly? The Fahrenheit Project series was straightforward enough, a showcase of Ultimae's roster and like-minded artists. Oxycanta had a 'sonic healing' thing going for it, and Ambrosia was a big, fat Greek party. Greenosophy, however, comes off little more than a compilation with a title that only exists because the other ones were either retired or in limbo. Heck, even the promo blurb isn't helpful in distinguishing this one. Regardez:

“Collected by our Swiss activist dj Cyril Miserez aka Mizoo, [ Greenosophy ] is a vibrant musical journey composed of eleven unique,hypnotic chapters. From deep ambient to lush progressive grooves, [ Greenosophy ] offers fresh chlorophyll visions, leafy rhythms and luxuriant melodies. Mizoo believes that music can develop a sense of empathy between people, philosophical reflections on our thoughts and acts; a point of view and a way of life he develops in this compilation.”

In other words, Mr. Mizoo made a mixtape.

Okay, that's not accurate. Greenosophy does have a small amount of uniqueness to it in how the music's arranged. It's rather like a DJ set in terms of musical flow, working a slow build, hitting a brisk prog-psy peak in the middle, and then ebbing away into chilled ambience. Makes sense, since Greenosophy was also the name of outdoor parties in Switzerland. And if Ambrosia was mostly a Greek showcase, this compilation’s all about the European melting pot.

There’s also a decent mix between Ultimae regulars and outside contributors too. Solar Fields shows up with Cobalt 2.0, and as Greenosophy came out the same year as Mr. Birgersson’s prog-psy album Random Friday, you bet this tune’s got ‘peak time in the psy tent’ all over it. Speaking of such settings, Cell’s Idea Spiral, an older ‘compilation-only’ tune, is presented to us in a lengthy live ‘edit’, nearly twelve minutes of mounting rhythms and evolving melodies growing upon each other. Miktek’s also here again with Flying Dots, marking his second straight compilation spot with Ultimae at that point. I think the label was growing fond of the Greek chap.

Plenty more musical avenues are explored on Greenosophy. Rildrim’s Tear-Blind Eye is all eerie atmosphere and paranoid bleeps – almost dark sci-fi ambient, with alien computers piercing the bleak black beyond. Getting into proper ambient techno territory with the touch o’ heavy dub is Liquid Stranger’s Minimum, while Ajja’s Nubian Sandstone takes the same aesthetic into prog-psy’s realm. James Murray, another Ultimae semi-regular, sets us on a meditative tribal-ambient path that TUU would nod approvingly for, and Cygna finishes things off with an almost New Agey soundscape of Broken Dream Of A Little Snail. D’aw, how perfectly twee.

Now that I think about it, Greenosophy’s remarkably diverse – guess that’s where I got that mixtape vibe from. I can’t say it’s an essential CD for chill-out collectors, but as with anything Ultimae, you won’t be disappointed should you spring for a copy.

(PS: I promise never to c+p PR blurbs again - reeks of laziness, it does)

Bandulu - Cornerstone

Blanco Y Negro: 1996

Way back when, I figured I'd never find a Bandulu album. They seemed so distant, a part of a young, fertile UK techno scene hiding in the underground, gaining plenty of props from the press, but absolutely no support from major labels. What chance, then, could Teenage Sykonee have in stumbling upon an album from this intriguing dub-tribal-techno act on the other side of the world? In our regular shops, none chance I say, and certainly nothing even hinting at an affordable non-import price. These days though, it ain't no th'ang to pop on the Amazons, do a quick search, and see what comes up. This shit's getting too easy, nearly whatever my youthful desires may be but a few simple clicks away, all at reasonable prices. All the allure, mystique and that, turned into a mere passing phase of intrigue rather than a lingering impression.

I wonder, had I found Cornerstone sitting forgotten in a used CD shop in a trendy neighbourhood, how different my response to this album would be. This is Bandulu on the downswing from their early seminal work, going deeper into minimal techno and experimental dub. Most of these tracks are cool enough, a fair bit of variety between each cut. There’s reggae nods with Selah and Folly, Detroit funk in Deep Sea Angler, uptempo bangers like Weak Heart, loopy head-nodders like Trinity, pure dub experiments like Parasight and Protocols, and plenty more that run the gamut between them all. For such a limiting sonic palette, Cornerstone does offer plenty of diversity throughout.

And yet, as an album, Cornerstone’s just too tracky. Mind, it’s a complaint of many techno LPs, ones even today’s scene continuously suffers from - I’m looking at you, Ostgut Ton. I realize the mid-‘90s was when techno felt the need to go minimal, distancing itself from the raving sensibilities and song-craft that carried the genre earlier that decade, but it makes for frustrating albums if you’re after more than a dozen tools for a rinse-out. Bandulu probably realized this, mostly sticking with vinyl releases on their own short-lived Foundation Sound Works print afterwards. Still, I’ve no doubt the brisk reggae-dub techno vibes of Running Time or spacious soundscapes of Sting would sound great in live settings. Hell, Shroud and Jester would get all the plaudits if it were a name like Shed attached to them rather than an old-school UK techno act with rave roots.

That all said, the Bandulu name does carry enough pedigree and class that any of their albums are worth a look-listen. They were doing the dub-techno thing as early as Basic Channel ever were, and rode minimal’s early waves just as capably as your Jeff Mills or Robert Hoods did – don’t count these guys out because their albums are easier to find through the Amazons or Lord Discogs Marketplace, eh? Guidance is obviously their Most Important Album, but Cornerstone’s collection of dub-techno cuts should entice fans of this sound into seeking this LP out too.

Synergy - Cords

Third Contact: 1978/2013

Not sure why Larry Fast barely gets name-dropped when talk of '70s synth wizards goes down. He was right in the thick of things along with the Jarres and Hammers, even beating Tomita at the modern classical game with original compositions. Yet whereas the big ol' Vangelis gets to score classic movies like Bladerunner and Chariots Of Fire, poor Synergy manages goofy 'documentaries' like The Jupiter Menace. It's that lack of any chart-friendly material, isn't it? Too highfalutin in conceptualization as the years wore on, that was the problem.

Synergy initially started out as another kraut-prog rock project, though Fast, in a bit of piss-takery on the growing anti-synthesizer sentiment in the ‘real’ rock world, countered that his albums were “one-hundred percent guitar-free”. Even his first album’s title was a rib on rock-opera, Electronic Realizations For Rock Orchestra. It also got him noticed though, crafting a tidy decade-long career for the Synergy banner before Fast moved onto other pursuits.

Cords is the third Synergy album, where Fast (and one Peter Sobel) finally utilized guitars ...“sort of”, the liner notes clarifies. It’s also heavier on creating a conceptual whole of an LP, three iterations of a synthy fanfare titled On Presuming To Be Modern performed at the beginning, middle, and end of Cords. A two-parter titled Phobos And Deimos Go To Mars forms our proper first pieces of music, both utilizing deep pulsing synths as their rhythmic backbone - always cool to hear ‘drums’ before everyone started using Roland machines in their electronic compositions. As for the differences between Phobos and Deimos, the former is far chipper, basically space-synth in its primordial form (and style-bitten by Gatekeeper, apparently), whereas the latter goes darker, even sounding Arabic with its Moog modulations. Both work a cool yin-yang concept, and I remain baffled why no one points to these as essential tunes from this era.

The rest of Cords plays out as you’d expect a modern classical album from the ‘70s would. Good for me though, as I have the re-re-mastered version released just last year (2013), thus these synths sound big and beefy compared to how tinny releases from the time often come off. Some tracks, like Disruption In World Communications and A Small Collection Of Chords, wouldn’t be too out of place in a forest temple level of a 32-bit era jRPG. Fast also gets all Bach on us with Full Moon Flyer, a bit more proggy with Terra Incognita (hey, synthesizer guitar), then throws everything into the caboodle with Trellis.

It’s all neat sounding stuff if you’ve an ear for early synth music, but I can hear why it didn’t catch on the same way Fast’s peers did with the public. Though not unbearably obtuse, Cords’ pure classical leanings wasn’t something regular folks would get into – Hell, Tomita only got away with it by covering easily recognizable compositions. I give Fast all the credit in crafting his own music, but Cords is about as egg-headed as early space-synth gets.

Eat Static - Back To Earth

Interchill Records: 2008

Though Eat Static kept producing after Planet Dog's closure, they never found a proper home again, hopping from label to label with each new album. Perhaps oddest of these one-offs is Back To Earth, released on Canadian world-psy chill-beat label Interchill (West Coast reprazent!). To date, it remains the final Eat Static LP, produced after Joie Hintin had left the group, leaving Merv Pepler the sole member. That didn't prevent him from bringing in a few helping hands to these tunes, though I have to wonder if the radical change of tempo offered on here was part of Hintin's departure.

Yes, in case the Interchill association wasn't enough of a hint, Back To Earth is primarily Eat Static on the downbeat. Fair enough, many of their LPs have the odd chill track or two – perfect for album pacing between the tear-out sessions. Hell, some of the tunes all the way back on Abduction could be proto psy-chill, though honestly nearly anything from Planet Dog are contenders for that classification. However, as far as I know, Back To Earth is the first Eat Static full-length where the BPMs seldom break the 110 mark.

It’s also all over the place where genres are concerned. For sure the sci-fi leaning tunes make their dutiful appearances, standout Lo-Ride Sloucher an intriguing minimalist glitch-hop spin on the formula. Elsewhere, Holy Stone and Valley Of The Moon go deep into the psy-dub side of things while Up, Periscope harkens back to old school Static. Along the way, Pepler roped in System 7 mainstays Steve Hillage and Miquette Giraudy for a couple tunes, Pearl Of Wisdom and Dune Rider. The former’s one of the few uptempo tracks, settling into a bouncy house groove as spacey pads drift upon, occasionally broken up by vintage Eat Static sci-fi sound effects. Dune Rider, on the other hand, sounds more like a System 7 song, world beat rhythms and ethnic instrumentation the bulk of this tune (plus the requisite Hillage space-guitar diddling).

If you think that’s off the beaten Static path, then the rest of Back To Earth will throw you for a loop, Guru. Pharaoh sounds like late-era Juno Reactor with dense instrumentation befitting a Cirque de Soliel performance, and Epoch Calypso goes all, well, calypso on our asses, including acoustic guitars and trumpets – you sure Shpongle isn’t hiding around this tune? Then there’s Flippity Flippity, straight-up smokey nu-jazz, and The Wreckage, groovy trip-hop action - neither would sound out of place on a Ninja Tune collection. (Still with this label? I didn’t plan it, I swear!)

Back To Earth definitely is a love/hate sort of album. If you’ve no problem with genre free-wheeling and drastic stylistic changes, its solid enough, every tune well produced and worth a listen. As a straight-up Eat Static album though, I’m left wanting, wishing for more sci-fi action than what we get here. Still, the album’s title is apt, as music doesn’t get more Earthen than jazz, does it?

Various - Ambrosia: Selected By Fishimself

Ultimae Records: 2011

The possibility always existed it could happen, that Ultimae would somehow discover yet another A-Plus producer out there, or one of their regulars would find some untapped well of enthralling innovation. At this late stage though, having consumed about all there is in the label's back catalogue, I'd settled into the comfortable notion of Ultimae no longer stunning me with surprising excellence, remaining content with the continuous class they put out. Then along comes Ambrosia, and I'm floored yet again. How. Do. They. Do. It?

First things first: what exactly is Ambrosia, beyond the mythological reference? The year is 2011, and Ultimae had one of their biggest annuals ever: new albums from premier acts Aes Dana, Carbon Based Lifeforms (two, in fact!), and shortly Solar Fields, plus putting a proper capper on their long dormant Fahrenheit Project series. So the Ultimae faithful were more than sated by this point, and with Fahrenheit Project ending on a high, there wasn’t much need for a totally new compilation series, especially one featuring relative unknowns like One Arc Degree, Sygnals, Memphidos, Max Million and Miktek. And who even is this Fishimself anyway? Harris Papadimitriou, eh. Must be Greek. In fact, these other names sound Greek too. Wait a minute... Amborsia... ‘food of the Gods’. Oh, now I get it; this is a showcase of Greek producers with similar stylee to the Ultimae camp. *audience slow-claps Dumb-Ass Sykonee*

Only two of Ultimae’s regulars show up for Ambrosia. Aes Dana gives us another of his ‘industrial minimal trance’ tunes in Distant Industries, while Asura’s V.A.N.T.A. hints at what Enigma would have sounded like had Cretu started during the ambient-glitch era – and even that tune’s got something of a Grecian tone to it. Not sure if including Miktek as part of the ‘Ultimae regular’ banner is apt with this CD, since this was Mr. Aikaterinis’ debut on the label, though he definitely became a staple of their compilations ever after. He even gets two tracks on here, Light Trails and Ominous Ride, both in his now-familiar sombre style of spacious grey synth pads and soft downbeat rhythms. Guess Fishimself figured Miktek was due for breakout status among the chill-out promoters, if only given the chance.

None of this surprised me going into Ambrosia though, since I’m well familiar with these names already. Nay, what threw me for a loop were the other tracks, and how they helped add a fresh dynamic to the Ultimae soundscape. These are, without a doubt, some of the heaviest rhythms I’ve heard from this label. Opener Sub Strata from Max Million & Gusk alone has an omnipresent bassline grumbling throughout; meanwhile One Arc Degree’s Distant Industries almost dips into proper jungle territory by its end. The remainder tracks aren’t as rhythmically unique as those, but retain enough distinct grit between them they aren’t lost in the typical Ultimae soup.

Ambrosia’s a great little Greek producer showcase. Ultimae should do more compilations like this for other countries. How about Turkey?

Various - Ninja Tune: The Shadow Years

Shadow Records: 2001

In the sub-micro-niche commodity classification known as “Ninja Tune Showcases”, The Way Of The Ninja sits at one end of the spectrum – at the other end sits this. Way early in Shadow Records’ humble beginnings, the label got by in offering State-side distribution for several European records. Most were one-offs, but they did share a two-year partnership with Ninja Tune as a means of disturbing some of Coldcut’s label’s older material. Wow, Ninja working with Shadow, who’d see that coming?

Of course, Ninja Tune’s clout eventually grew big enough they handled their own American affairs, but Shadow still had rights to those older tracks as they saw fit to use them. With Shadow’s own clout never higher at the turn of the century, they also released a few Ninja back-catalog CDs as a means of earning a quick buck from an unsuspecting public. Okay, that’s a ridiculously cynical take on this compilation – I’m sure Shadow had all the best of intentions when putting this double-CD together. As a showcase of Ninja Tune’s repertoire, however, The Shadow Years is incredibly slight.

Yes, a 2-CD, eighteen track collection of Ninja Tune music come off underwhelming. Part of the problem is the small number of artists Shadow had to work with. For sure, most of the main players of Ninja Tune’s early years are accounted for: Coldcut, The Herbaliser, DJ Vadim, DJ Food, 9 Lazy 9, London Funk Allstars, Hedfunk, Funki Porcini, and Up, Bustle & Out are all repped. And of those nine artists, we get one song each on both CDs. Unfortunately, it’s not all their best material. I mean, of the Coldcut tunes Shadow could have selected, Eine Kleine Hed Musick and Atmoic Moog 2000 are the ones you go with? Not that I should have expected Autumn Leaves or Timber, but surely something a little less MOR from More and Black could have been included (for the record, I adore Eine Kleine Hed Musick, but for mostly personal reasons).

Truthfully, the selection of tunes here aren’t bad at all, all the downtempo genres Ninja Tune made their mark in given their moments. There’s trip-hop vibes from DJ Vadim and The Herbaliser, abstract broken-beats from Funki Porcini, funky ‘70s licks from DJ Food (I always picture Ninja Walk as the opening credits to a blaxploitation flick), and acid jazz grooves from 9 Lazy 9, London Funk Allstars and Up, Bustle & Out. In a way, The Shadow Years’ relative lack of material just goes to show how much Ninja Tune spoils us for music, names like Amon Tobin and Drome missing from this collection, to say nothing of extensive discographies of those who do show up here.

If you’re utterly raw to Ninja Tune and won’t spring for one of their boxsets, The Shadow Years is an adequate starter’s sampler. While it barely scratches the surface of even Shadow’s association with Ninja Tune, it does provide a quick glimpse into some of the label’s more seminal years.

King Cannibal - Ninja Tune XX Presents: The Way Of The Ninja

Ninja Tune: 2010

70 Minutes Of Madness? This one’s insanity, two-hundred fifty-six tunes utilized, some barely for a second's worth of sample. This isn't a DJ mix in the traditional sense, but rather an overambitious collage celebrating Ninja Tune's twentieth anniversary, ramming and jamming as many cuts and blends possible so no one significant is left behind. And while King Cannibal was at it, here's the sub-labels getting repped too: Big Dada, N-Tone, and Counter. Can’t deny Mr. Richards’ passion for this project, but can there be fault in the final product?

Depends how you approach The Way Of The Ninja. As a DJ set highlighting all the Ninja Tune, it’s far too stuffed with content for any sustained flow. The label made their name with acid jazz, trip-hop, turntablisism, and other down-low soulful-funky genres of the ‘90s, and even as their influence waned, they kept their fingers on the pulse of new developments - dubstep, grime, and even indie rock found homes within Ninja Tune’s archives, always signing music and acts beyond class. Just as well, then, that The Cannibalistic Lord divided everything up into uniquely titled sections featuring specific genres or highlighting certain artists. Including the Intro, Way Of The Ninja has twenty of these mini-megamixes within the mix. And remember, there’s two-hundred fifty-six individual tracks used, all crammed into these indexes. This CD, it’s full of musics!

The Intro track alone, at just under two minutes long, has nineteen bits and pieces listed. The shortest track on here, subtitled Big Tunes, Big Hits, runs a minute-twenty and has a ‘mere’ eight tunes, including two mixes of More Beats & Pieces. Meanwhile, the lengthiest one, Welcome To Our Ageing Sideshow, clocks in at the heftier side of six minutes, also with nineteen tunes squeezed in (ooh, Timber’s in this one!). Hell, two more chunks, I Wanna See All The Hands and Tings Get Heat Up, Rewound And Torn Down hold about the same number of tracks, with a mere four minutes of run-time. So much musics, man, just so much musics.

Artists? Coldcut, Amon Tobin, Herbaliser, Roots Manuva, DJ Vadim, Mr. Scruff, DJ Food, Hexstatic, Bonobo, Neotropic, The Bug, Sixtoo, Jaga Jazzist, Super Numeri, Funki Porcini, Qemists, Cujo, Spank Rock, Thunderheist, Fink, 2 Player, Wagon Christ, Anti Pop Consortium- Look, I’ll be here forever if I list off the near-entirety of the Ninja Tune roster. Same with pointing out specific tracks, although obviously not every single song’s on here. And, while King Cannibal tries giving many their due, some get cut short (no Irresistible Force, what?) or have barely a token sample tossed in. For instance, I was gutted the bass drop of his own Flower Of Flesh And Blood never materialized. Wow, I actually missed a dubstep drop. Crazy.

So’s The Way Of The Ninja. It’s a fun CD if you want to relive so much Ninja Tune in a short amount of time, but best treated as a novelty rather than a proper showcase of the label’s rich history.

Paolo Mojo - Nightlaw / Home (Original TC Review)

Oosh: 2008

(2014 Update:
Though I mention otherwise in the review, I think the real reason I checked this single out was due to it being the latest one I noticed at Juno Records. As for why cover Paolo Mojo at all, he truly did seem like a house-producer on the rise (the Balance bump obviously helped), but he's since subsided into a comfortable role of above-average, mostly unremarkable consistency so many house DJ/producers are wont to do.

He's also continued keeping up with the trends as each emerges in the various house scenes. Some of his final Oosh material featured the brief tribal-tech sound Radio Slave and Luciano made noteworthy following minimal's collapse (not to mention his own label's demise). Moving to digital, he's now releasing deep house and garage on 303Lovers, because of course he would. He started out with progressive house and electro house when those were in vogue too, didn't he? Man, bandwagon jump, much?)


IN BRIEF: Mojo goes minimal.

When Paolo Mojo (Paul Brimson to the government) contributed to Balance a couple years back with its ninth edition, it helped cement that DJ mix series as one of the freshest and most welcome upstarts around, and definitely one to keep an eye on for future releases. Much can be said of Mojo’s productions as well. His breakout single 1983 tickled the fancy of those enjoying proper retro-electro takes on house music (having an Eric Prydz remix attached to it didn’t hurt either) and the UK resident has built up a respected reputation with subsequent releases following a similar aesthetic. Fortunately, Mojo’s wise enough to not continue rehashing his previous successes and this year of 2008 has seen him take on minimal attributes with his tech house (plinkin’ an’a plongin’ an’a white noisin’ alongin’).

He’s put out a few singles in the past few months but for the time being, let’s focus specifically on this one containing the two tracks Nightlaw and Home. Why, you ask? Because, I reply, this was about where Mojo fully dove into minimal’s possibilities, so it’s a good talking point.

Funnily enough, Nightlaw is at its best when it isn’t fiddling around with minuscule minutia. The opening two-and-a-half minutes amount to not much of anything as basic rhythms with thick bass are laid out, which is rather generous mix-in layering time. Once we’re through with that, however, a hooky melody emerges and gradually builds in prominence, eventually capping off with a breakdown-and-snare-roll combo as klaxons blast from the distance. Sounds like a great climax, right? It’s somewhat disappointing, then, that given the lead-up and the initial strength of the actual drop, Nightlaw’s release isn’t as powerful as it could have been. It’s like a lidded pot is boiling over, and just as you think it’s about to erupt, it instead gives a quick burst of hissing steam, then calmly settles back down into a simmer. I want to throw my arms in the air but I’m only compelled to give an enthusiastic shrug, as though I’m trying to cover club-BO from my armpits. Ah well.

Home is all about build-up too, but because it is dominated by rhythm (melody is practically non-existent in this one), that sense of missed potential at the peaks isn’t quite as prominent. In fact, as a set piece, Home is highly effective, making use of a ‘double-build’ arrangement set to beats that march along in fine form. While a higher BPM would give this some more energy, I don’t think Mojo had peak-time tech-house banger in mind for this b-side, especially since that’s obviously more Nightlaw’s territory.

These aren’t Mojo’s strongest efforts but as a stab at style-biting Dubfire, he easily trumps the former Deep Dish man. He’s managed to find a comfortable niche within minimal tech circles and will undoubtedly ride this current trend with credibility intact.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2008. © All rights reserved.

Boney M. - Nightflight To Venus ('Proper' Review)

Song BMG Music Entertainment: 1978/2007

Okay, let's critique this for realsies. Does Nightflight To Venus hold up? Was Frank Farian a mad musical genius or German hack? Why do we forgive Boney M.'s lip-syncing, but ruthlessly crucify the latter Farian-helmed project, Milli Vanilli? Actually, that last one's easily answered: Milli Vanilli won Grammys, while Boney M. did not. Fool the common plebs of music consumers all you want, but don't you dare make a mockery of the Grammys!

It's not like Farian planned a career of studio lurking while pretty boys and girls pranced about on stages, quite content remaining anonymous. Despite a love of funk, disco, soul, reggae, and other contemporary black music, his being way German wouldn't fly with traditional audiences of those scenes. So hiding in the studio suited him fine, but then his Boney M. project got ridiculously popular within a few short years, and a demand for live performances and telecasts forced him to create the stage act we associate with the name. Why not appear live himself? He wouldn’t be taken seriously, of course, unlike having lip-syncers ‘perform’ the music instead. 1970s, you so wacky.

Nightflight To Venus came out when Boney M. was at the height of their popularity, Farian’s perfect blend of disco-pop and euro-reggae having won the ears and hearts of thousands across the continent. How’s a crafty German follow upon such success? Get totally conceptual on the masses’ asses! Well, not too conceptual, but the first two tracks have to rank up there with some of the ballsiest moves a disco-pop producer could open an album with.

Though hopping on the super-hot sci-fi bandwagon with the titular cut wasn’t unprecedented, the fact Farian would craft such a loopy, tribal rhythm had to catch the Boney M. faithful off-guard. Add in marching drums and clapping “Hey! Hey!”s, and it feels as though you’re a part of the Soviet Verena missions to Venus. For that matter, Farian must have had a brief fascination with the Russians, carrying the rhythms through to Rasputin so whatever theme he’d created with Nightflight To Venus was maintained. As for one of the biggest disco-pop hits ever, can you imagine a song about a Russian monk hitting the top of today’s dance charts? Hell, anything with an historical story involved? Utterly, brilliantly daft and genius, that Farian be.

The other big single off here, Rivers Of Babylon, plays more to the group’s Caribbean charms, inoffensive music often emanating from radios, though anyone deeply versed in reggae won’t find much of interest there. And if I’m honest, that’s also true for the disco cuts He Was A Steppenwolf and Voodoonight. Farian does have a way with a hook though, and slick production chops that you can’t help but find yourself grooving to. It’s the sort of music most DJs wouldn’t mind playing as part of a fun mixtape, the unheralded album tracks that somehow work against all odds. Go on, admit your unabashed adoration for Boney M. Rasputin compels you to...

Boney M. - Nightflight To Venus (Anecdotal 'Review')

Song BMG Music Entertainment: 1978/2007

Say what you want about Boney M. – and believe me, you won't be saying anything new – it's undeniable their popularity's endured thanks to Frank Farian's impeccable production chops and savvy marketing. Hell, it sure worked for me, Nightflight To Venus an irresistible concept to a kid just discovering things like Star Wars and other cool space-orientated- ack, no, no! I won’t turn this review into an endless parade of anecdotes. My self-imposed word count doesn’t allow for it. Okay, focus, focus...

Nope, not happening. I’m not getting through this review without dropping more. Sure, I could be all professional and shit about Nightflight To Venus, but there’s no fun in that. I’ve so many stories tied to this record, so many memories as a kid listening to it. You know what, screw it. I’m going all the way down Anecdote Alley here, and if that’s a problem, come back tomorrow where I’ll deal with the album proper-like. I gotta’ get this nostalgia outta’ my system, folks.

Nightflight To Venus is undeniably ground zero for my enjoyment of so many things musically: catchy hooks and harmonies, DJ mixes, dance rhythms, space-themed music, and Neil Young. For a kid getting into sci-fi, the titular opener was utter catnip for a fruitful imagination. Those robot voices, sound effects, gnarly guitar licks, and thumping rhythms was unlike anything I’d heard before, purely driven by a concept than actual song writing. Then it kept going into a totally different song about a bizarre Russian named Rasputin, with some of ear-wormiest hooks I’d ever heard. It blew my young mind you could even do that with music, make two separate tunes seem like one! And those awesome choruses are filled throughout Nightflight To Venus, some with lyrics that seem almost intended to be sung along with by kids (Painter Man, Rivers Of Babylon, Brown Girl In The Ring).

What’s elevated Nightflight To Venus above so many other albums of my young life, however, is the fact it was the first record I recall listening to front-to-back, and aside from Raffi’s Baby Beluga (shaddap), would remain the only one I would repeatedly do so for many years. For as much as I enjoyed The Police’s records too, I still could only ever get through half a Side A before getting bored. While Boney M.’s fun music was part of my willingness to go the distance, the fact one of my favourite songs on the album, Heart Of Gold, was at the end, forced me to sit patiently through the whole record to hear it (the original’s country? No way, this is the real version!). Even the slower ‘message’ song before it, Never Change Lovers In The Middle Of The Night, couldn’t deter me from waiting in anticipation for those wonderful vocal harmonies and funky disco guitar licks emerging. It instilled a listening habit that persists to this day, of appreciating albums as collective wholes rather than jumping from song to song. Well done, Nightflight To Venus. Well done.