Maxx - No More (I Can't Stand It) (2014 Update)

Quality Music: 1994

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.)

Ah, hmm. I guess Maxx never had their own video game tie-in I can fanficify, did they. I'm gonna' have to do a real 2014 Update for this single, aren't I. Man, you don't want that. You know how boring it would have been had I done the same for all those 2 Unlimited singles? My original reviews were exhaustively detailed, and while not always entirely accurate, in no need of updating. I'll grant possibly only two people on the planet get a kick out of those BioMetal stories, but I write them for my amusement, a break from my usual fare. Dammit, why couldn't Maxx have been more popular than 2 Unlimited? Not even a CD-ROM soundtrack credit? *sigh*

Actually, listening to No More again, I’m surprised how well it’s held up to this day. Despite lacking the polish of Maxx’ first hit, Get-A-Way (Team Samira, yo’!), there remains an undeniable craft to its pop production. Maybe it’s the fact Gary Bokoe’s ‘raggamuffin’ approach to the requisite euro-dance rap sounds unlike any other out there. Seriously, compared to the endless copycats that emerged after Maxx’ success, Gary comes off remarkably unique. I think the only reggae-rapper in that scene that outmatched him was ICE MC, and he had the benefit of heritage on his side. What’s a silly German outfit like Maxx doing emulating the UK’s fascination with reggae-dance music?

There’s a lot of music from the ‘90s that’s hopelessly dated to those years. Some of it, like old school rave, big beat, and prog-house with ethnic chants continue to work in spite of their datedness, a nostalgia for the long-gone scenes they sprung up within. Conversely, this same factor works against some genres if the memories and events tied to them remind us of things the music world would much rather forget – New Jack Swing probably won’t see a comeback since everything we associate with the genre spotlights the commercial urban scene’s desperate attempt at cashing in on hip-hop street authenticity.

Euro-dance of the ‘90s exists in a funny realm between the two, primarily due to an explosive birth of creativity, followed by years of shameless rehashing and generic retreads (music turned “beige”, as ICE MC put it). Yeah, I’m being liberal with the term ‘creativity’, but consider: in combining hip-house, italo, and anthem ‘techno’, euro-dance struck upon a formula that had never been done before, and opened a wide door of potential genre blending. The most memorable tunes of this era almost all sprung up within those first couple years of existence, producers mixing and matching influences from other scenes (reggae! trance! country?), trying to top the charts over their contemporaries with some new angle (oh hi, Maxx). These songs hold up as strong dance-pop because everyone making it kept outdoing each other in this musical arms race. Small surprise acts like 2 Unlimited, Culture Beat, and Dr. Alban are making bank on ‘90s nostalgia tours now. Why Maxx hasn’t gotten in on that action?

2 Unlimited - No Limits!

Quality Music: 1993

Oh man, I could so do another 'anecdote review' with this CD, it being the first disc I ever owned and all. But nay, Nightflight To Venus was once enough for such a gimmick, so I'll leave the personal stories aside. All I'll say is had I bought my initial choice of Naughty By Nature's 19 Naughty III instead on that fateful day, my musical development could have been drastically different during those early, impressionable teenage years.

No Limits! came out a year after 2 Unlimited's debut, and the group was quick to transition from a charming (lambasted?) Belgian techno-rave act to a proper pop sensation. They couldn’t do it re-hashing the same ol’ dance formula as before though. They needed cleaner production, tighter song-writing, and a new anthem that proved, beyond a shadow of a doubt, their early singles of Get Ready For This and Twilight Zone weren’t just flukes cashing in on a hot sound. Something with a hook instantly recognizable and so simple anyone could hum it, with a chorus to match and a title that not only could be used for the LP-proper, but even have tongue-in-cheek playfulness as it related to the group name. Got it, R.U.O.K.!

Look, I’m actually sick of No Limit at this moment. Between it being the first track on this album, plus having just done the single, I’ve now heard seven iteration of the damned song in a row, five of which are practically identical to each other. I’ll still enjoy it the next time I hear it at a hockey game, but right now, I’m burnt out on it – I’ve discovered there is a limit to how much No Limit I can take.

Fortunately, No Limits! doesn’t retread that mind-numbing path quite so often. Maximum Overdrive and Let The Beat Control Your Body are similar tunes, in that they go for the ‘dumb-fun’ dance anthem as No Limit does, but the rest of this album’s surprisingly diverse within the limited range 2 Unlimited set upon itself. Tribal Dance was the other big single from here, far cleverer in offering high-octane dance music compared to forgotten tracks like Break The Chain and Kiss Me Bliss Me (literally, I forgot the latter existed!). Showing some musical class, Mysterious is a well-crafted dance-pop song, while Faces and The Power Age have Ray and Anita injecting world issues into their lyrics, using their gained popularity for more than mindless musical escapism. On the lighter side of things is a happy little number called Throw The Groove Down (such whimsical fun!) and a nice bit o’ bliss from Invite Me To Trance.

I’m not gonna’ sell you on No Limits! if you aren’t already sold on 2 Unlimited, but for such a quick sophomore effort, it’s leaps beyond Get Ready. Hell, even the ballads, Where Are You Now and Shelter For A Rainy Day, are pleasant numbers to end the album on. Me, giving praise to euro-dance ballads. That just don’t happen, mang!

2 Unlimited - No Limit (BioMetal, Part 4)

Quality Music: 1992/1993

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.)

“Time until total blackout?”

“Five minutes, General Wilde.”

He leaned forward at his cramped bridge console, and finished his ninth stim’ fix with a strong swig. A song played in his head, a tune so annoyingly memorable it seemed forever looped. Maybe it was his mind’s feeble attempt at distraction, relieving the stress of the mission. Everything hinged on his direction, his orders, and his intuition. Yet here were a couple of kids doing all the gruelling work for him. All he could do was sit and watch their progress, praying to the Elder Souls he’d given them all the tools they needed in the HALBARD for a successful mission. That, and a limitless amount of luck.

“Amazing they've made it so far,” Wilde muttered, but their time was almost out. The orbital frigate he operated from could only remain for a couple hours more before the BioMetals would detect it and send swarms of the creatures after them. If his two officers ploughing a course into the heart of the BioMetal lair failed in eliminating the central brain-hub and spawning nursery, he’d be left with no other option but complete planetary decimation, including Ray and Anita whether they still lived or not. They deserved a chance to succeed on their own, but Wilde knew where his obligations lay.

He rubbed both sides of his cheeks, sweaty palms scratching against a coarse layer of whiskers. A shave already? Truly his beard had no upper limit in its rate of growth. Probably sprouts faster than BioMetals.

He tapped an intercom button at his console, opening a channel to the science lab. “Dr. de Coster, how's the status of our fail-safe?”

“Sitting just p'urty, Sir,” came a reply. “Ol' Romy and Marion are ready if you want them.”

Wilde chuckled. Leave it to a 'mad' scientist to give such destructive weapons pet names. “I hope it won't come to that,” he replied. “Ray and Anita have exceeded my expectations. It's possible there's unlimited potential in the two. Their mission's gone from 'long shot' to 'possible chance' in rapid time, and I'm not about to waste their earned good will by destroying them in the process.”

“And if they don't make it back?”

Wilde pursed his lips. “We'll have to give 'Romy' and 'Marion' a try then, won't we. May the Elder Souls forgive us if we do though.”

“Haha, you sound as though their aftermath will swallow us in the process.”

Wilde switched the intercom off. If they don't succeed, I fear it just will at that.

He glanced back at his monitor, the tactical read-out of the BioMetal lair growing distorted. Then, with a garbled flash of radio-wave static, it went dark. The HALBARD’s signal disappeared, buried beneath tons of rock and twisted bio-mass. It was all on Ray and Anita to see the mission through to its end.

Pressing his clasped knuckles against his forehead, he gave a small, quiet prayer. May there be no limit to your gifts.


(If you're hopeless lost as to what's going on, click here.)

The Prodigy - No Good (Start The Dance)

XL Recordings: 1994

If any single perfectly encapsulated The Prodigy's transition from fun-time hardcore rave act to gritty thrash-dance heroes, it would have to be No Good. Following the commercial success (and critical backlash) of Experience, Liam Howlett saw it necessary for a change of direction, keeping five steps ahead of the imitators that had sprung up. One Love was the first step, mostly abandoning spastic breakbeats and chipmunk vocals in favour of serious shit like ethnic chants and didgeridoos. Um, more on that one at a later date.

Before all the fierce punk attitudes that defined Music For The Jilted Generation’s legacy came into being, Mr. Howlett still had regular ravey tunes on the mind, including big riffs and poppy vocal samples. Using the same Kelly Charles hook that Hithouse did was far from a unique idea, and Liam later expressed his early doubts over it, already being such a played out vocal. A testament to his brilliant song-writing, then, that he not only kept the You’re No Good For Me line, but made it his own in the process, retaining the underground cred’ he was hard at work re-establish for The Prodigy. Hell, it sure convinced me: my first exposure to it was Jack To The Sound Of Underground, yet every time I hear Ms. Charles now, it’s No Good that fires off in my memory banks.

The synth riffs are punchy and not all that dissimilar to typical 'techno' tearing up charts of the time, but there an air of menace to them; the happy days are over, yo'. And those rhythms, mang! Liam already had a knack for killer beat-craft, yet his Experience stuff was looser, often frenetic for frenzy’s sake. The beats in No Good, however, feel tighter and more propulsive than anything Liam had made before. It’s dance music with purpose and intent, from which much of Jilted Generation’s style took cues from.

Completing the ‘transformative’ act was the video. Early Prodigy videos were goofy and wacky, which suited the music Howlett was producing at the time fine. If he was taking his work back underground though, he needed a visual accompaniment that reflected his manifesto. Thus, what better setting for a proper illegal than an abandoned warehouse, complete with enthusiastic dancers (Flint and Thornhill included) and freaks of society (um, Flint again) inhabiting the place? Shot in black and white (sans some yellow in Maxim’s cat iris contact lenses), the strobe effects greatly enhance an already rough rave setting, the sort of party that continues to get romanticized as how the scene should be maintained. That said, I’ve no idea what the point of Howlett’s ‘Prodge Smash!’ bit at the end’s all about.

The Bad For You Mix is essentially the same song taken down typical techno-rave roads, while CJ Bolland’s Museum Mix digs deep into the 4am acid hole. Both are worthy rubs of the original, but not as memorable. Admit it, No Good’s been playing in your head the moment you saw the title.

Bandulu - Guidance

Infonet/Never Records: 1993/1996

While most of the UK were getting their rave hardcore techno on, one three-piece found themselves drawn to the source of it all, merry ol’ Detroit. Hey, if chaps from Germany and France could make American future-funk music, why not blokes from London too? These three men though - Jamie Bissmire, Lucien Thompson, and John O’Connell – couldn’t escape the musical melting pot that was the UK, immigrants from all the former empire’s old colonies bringing their sounds to the British underground as rave culture fostered bountiful creative growth. Some sound experiments flashed brilliantly, then swiftly died; others slowly burned and carry on to this day. Bandulu’s first album, Guidance, captures that period where it seemed nothing was off limits for UK techno.

Take the titular opener. What is it? Tribal? Trance? Techno? Dub? Progressive house? Oh, who cares – awesome is what it is, especially with a big bassline that’d leave Leftfield weak in the knees. That said, little else on Guidance hits the same perfect blend of genre soup quite like that cut does, the rest mostly focusing on those Detroit techno influences while keeping the open-air rave vibe going.

This leads to a lot of tunes sounding rather like trance, even earning them duty on a few early trance compilations before Bandulu went full dub techno. Revelation, a blissy space flight that would have gotten early Eye-Q’s attention; Peacekeeper works the loopy rhythms with echo washes (plus clap-action Oliver Lieb would be proud of); and Earth 6 is what early goa trance would have sounded like had the genre taken its cues from techno rather than industrial. As for the techno side of things, Messenger’s the groovy one, Gravity Pull’s the future-dystopian one, Flex is the Carl Craig inspired one (plus an added ethnic chant),Tribal Reign is the ‘experimental-Craig’ one, and Better Nation is the Carl Craig Innerzone Mix one. Yep, the Detroit don himself gets a credit on Bandulu’s debut – guess the London act’s influences didn’t go unnoticed in Old Techno Mecca at all. There’s also a downtempo-dub cut with Invaders, the sort of tune that undoubtedly earned Bandulu a bunch of gigs with Megadog.

So high praise abounds for Guidance, but here’s the caveat I must make with so much music from the early ‘90s: it’s rather dated. Bandulu as a group had yet to refine their production, thus many of the drum kits, synths, and samples are firmly rooted in that era of UK techno. Nothing’s outright tinny or anything, but clearly lacking the sonic finesse later works offered. Heck, as tracky as Cornerstone was, the music on there could at least still be played in a modern setting and few would be the wiser. Guidance, on the other hand, will have folks thinking of techno from the way back whens, the long long agos. All of which is fine should you have a fondness for this time and are looking for more neglected gems, as few techno LPs sound quite like Guidance, then or since.

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?