Scuba - Personality

Hotflush Recordings: 2012

Did anyone honestly figure Personality a sell-out? I know the move away from dubstep on Scuba's part would have alienated the hardest of his core followers of the time, but surely not the scene at large, primarily hearing of Mr. Rose only as another hyped named from the super-trendy Hotflush Recordings print. Not a terrible distinction, but if he was to extend his career beyond the rigid, insular fandom that dubstep had cultivated, he’d have to abandon it altogether. Fortunately, his style was already drifting down a different path anyway – heck, his ‘dubstep by way of Detroit’ music was what stood him out in the first place. So bemoan if you must that he never took ‘post-future-garage-step’ any further before being seduced by tech-house, but take heart that all DJs end up playing house eventually.

Personality isn’t a house record (shock!), but it isn’t a gritty techno one either. Rather, it’s a throwback to the earliest days of techno, when the Belleview Three and their immediate successors pictured the future as a funky, fun, and wondrous place rather than a bleak, dystopian one. There’s no hiding Scuba’s inspiration on this album, as anyone with elementary knowledge of the genre’s history shouldn’t have much difficulty in spotting the influences and nods to the forefathers (Hints? Well, Action sounds quite a bit like- hm, no, I don’t think I’ll ruin your trainspotting fun after all).

The good news is Scuba capably keeps his music sounding about as contemporary as ‘80s Detroit techno through UK-bass lenses can, working in bits and pieces of future garage’s stylistic markers. There’s crackly vinyl effects (Underbelly, Gekko), singing soul sista’s floating on past memories (Dsy Chn, Tulips), and even a ‘proper’ dubstep cut in Cognitive Dissonance for your half-step, wobble-bassline fix. It’s not all Detroit either, July coming on more like a Herbie Hancock cut than anything from Metroplex; elsewhere, NE1BUTU falls deep into the raver’s unabashed anthem E-hole, replete with rolling piano licks and sweet-smelling vocal Vicks (??). Nothing gets lost in nostalgia glaze or respectful homage either, the production cutting edge and crisp.

In fact, I think he goes too far in the mastering department. This is one loud album – not in a brick-walled manner as so much pop music goes, but in how much punch it carries. Even with headphones, you feel the weight of these beats, and though Scuba provides plenty of sonic separation with his samples and synths, it’s all front-and-center, directly in your audio face. Imagine watching a High Definition version of O.G. Robocop at a wide-screen theatre in neck breaking middle-seats of Row 2. It looks awesome, but is a bit much to take in at that range.

If that’s the only major gripe against Personality, however, then who gives a flip? The only other complaint I can think of is if you’re dead against anything Scuba makes that isn’t dubstep. Hey, at least you get broken-beats on this album. You sure ain’t hearing that from his sets anymore.

Aes Dana - Perimeters

Ultimae Records: 2011

Ultimae has four acts generally considered the label’s main roster: Aes Dana, Asura, Solar Fields, and Carbon Based Lifeforms (can Miktek be an honorary fifth now?). I’ve mentioned before that Mr. Villuis’ material doesn’t quite do it for me like the rest, but it took me a while to figure out why. His albums often lack big musical moments identifiable to his style, an element that can elevate an LP to George Takei levels of “Oh my…!” Asura will have a composition with stunning orchestral arrangements demanding of a major blockbuster, Solar Fields will have emotional high points that’ll melt your heart to mush, and CBL always find clever ways of making clinical ambient techno sound full and vibrant. Aes Dana though, I dunno. I struggle to recall any distinct pieces of music like I do MOS 6581, Sol or Halley’s Road.

For the longest time, I figured it was simply a case of Aes Dana lagging behind his compatriots in song craft ability. I mean, not everyone can be the best-of-the-best, and there's no shame in taking up the rear in a group of awesome talent – someone's gotta' play the part of Ringo, after all. Listening to Perimeters, however, I realized the reason for his lack of huge musical moments is entirely due to the style he cultivates. The dark, brooding synths, touches of gothic atmosphere, and rhythms owing some influence to trance's industrial roots - all great in creating a seductive mood maintained throughout the duration of an album's run-time. Shoehorning an epic climax or ear-wormy mega-hook would go against the Aes Dana stylee, and all the more power to Mr. Villuis for resisting the temptation to go outside that zone. It would only sound unnecessary and out of place.

*Phew*… it was a mouthful, but I had to get that nagging quandary solved. Hell, I still may come back to it with the next Aes Dana album I review, but I think I’ve finally got it covered why I do enjoy his music, yet always have difficulty recalling specifics. Okay, time to finally discuss Perimeters, then.

His fifth album, this one hints at a few new organic approaches to his style - opener Anthrazit has orchestral work, In Between features heavily treated pianos, and The Missing Worlds works a bit of acoustic guitar in. For the most part though, we’re dealing with an upbeat trance LP, tracks like Resin, In Between, Heaven Report, and the titular cut going at a brisk prog-psy pace. Most of the rhythms are rather clicky-minimalist too, though not to such a degree that it renders the music sterile – Aes Dana has more than enough evocative synths and pads at his disposal to ever let that happen. A few tracks start on the downtempo side before upping the BPMs, while others are content remaining in ambient drone’s territory. All said, a good album for those who like the dancier side of Ultimae. I know there’s a few of you out there.

Harold Budd & Brian Eno - The Pearl

Editions EG: 1984/1987

Most everyone is familiar with Harold Budd and Brian Eno’s first collaboration, if nothing else because it served as the second in Eno’s seminal Ambient series. Less familiar is The Pearl, released during that period of the ‘80s when Eno and Daniel Lanois were hanging out a bunch, making soundtracks for Apollo missions and awakening sleepers (but before elevating U2’s musical presence to the godly realms).

For that reason, I keep thinking this is the score to an obscure art film that aired on BBC or PBS. I picture a haggard galleon captain, writing in his log book as twilight has settled. His only light is a single candle at his desk, and a pale glow of a near-half moon filtering through his window. An inner monolog intones bleak loneliness, uncertain of his futile mission of travelling incognito along the Spanish Main hunting for dwindling supplies of precious pearls. Why are they pillaging wondrous tropical islands for an Empire having difficulty sustaining these expeditions? What news of his wife and family back home, what with war brewing on mainland Europe? Half his crew remains discontent, hushed whispers of mutiny leaking through the ship’s wet, wooden floors. Existential historical drama at its finest, 8pm this Friday on your local public station.

So that may or may not have been what Budd and Eno were envisioning when crafting The Pearl (I’ll wager ‘not bloody likely’), but the beauty of this album is it can represent whatever you wish. That said, there’s definitely a lonely tone throughout, Budd’s delicate piano work enhanced by wispy synth echoes and ghostly reverb. At times, it feels as though notes linger in the air forever, your ears wandering the vast stretches of seeming emptiness before another gentle bit of piano plays out. There’s never any urgency in this music, though sometimes a looming feeling of disquieting unease permeates the atmosphere. Screw the historical drama, this is a perfect soundtrack for writing modern-epic Russian literature in the dead of Siberian winter.

The Pearl is a lovely collection of music, but unfortunately has little else to detail. Budd’s on the piano, Eno’s on the subtle synths, and Lanois’ on the treatments. Each track only lasts a few minutes, none breaching the five-minute mark, which is nice in keeping the music thematically tight within each composition – no meandering dithering on this album, my friends. A couple tracks make use of natural sound effects, like dripping water in A Stream With Bright Fish, distant calls of the wild in Dark-Eyed Sister, or night-time critters in An Echo Of Night. Also, Budd doesn’t always lead with piano, Against The Sky sounding like he uses a soft organ.

Given how much minimalist ambient material Eno’s put out over the years, it’s all too daunting diving into his extended works and collaborations, especially albums that aren’t at the peak of recommendation lists. As The Pearl comes from his golden ambient period though, definitely check this one out if you’ve started past the essentials.

Beastie Boys - Paul's Boutique

Capitol Records: 1989

Licensed To Ill is the Beastie Boys album you're supposed to have, even if you're not much of a Beastie Boys fan; or rather, if you're not much of a hip-hop fan. Those 808 beats were fine so long as thrashing guitars are right around the corner, and the Boys themselves were easy enough to follow as lyricists. It's a 'rawk' album in rap's clothing, and perfectly safe for unwilling strollers near urban music. However, if you do fancy yourself a proper hip-hop consumer, then Paul's Boutique is unquestionably the Beastie Boys album you're supposed to have, full-stop.

As is so often the case with these seminal records though, Paul's Boutique was a commercial dud compared to the Beastie's debut. Mind, it wasn't entirely their fault, many factors contributing to public indifference: losing the Def Jam deal, bringing on relative unknown producers called The Dust Brothers, gangsta rap becoming the new hotness, getting stereotyped as nothing more than a bunch of punk brats, going too artistically ambitious before the world of music was ready for it. God damn, 1989 was square.

The truth of the matter – and what everyone came to realize after the fact – was Paul’s Boutique took the concept of sample-heavy hip-hop to unprecedented levels. The Bomb Squad of Public Enemy were already doing crazy new things, but the Beastie-Dust dynamic strolled right back into hip-hop’s yard, dropped a flat of cardboard at everyone’s feet, and busted out the freshest moves on the scene, giving everyone notice that the game had officially been taken to the next level (wait, I’m getting my pillars mixed up). The album soon became an underground hit (lack of sales will do that), earning them the respect of hip-hop’s elite, and solidifying their status as rap artists of equal peer.

Paul’s Boutique’s also one of the finest ‘Americana’ records around. Obviously that’s in large part to the Dust Brothers’ liberal sampling, finding room for funk (Shake Your Rump, Car Thief, Hey Ladies), throwback 808-hop (High Plains Drifter), rock (Looking Down The Barrel Of The Gun), blues (To All The Girls), country hoe-down (5-Piece Chicken Dinner), goofball yokel nonsense (The Sounds Of Science), and movie scores (Egg Man). Okay, some of these are just samples, but it’s in there, making this album a collage of all the weird things you can find across the lower 49-States (Hawaiian folk music’s gotta’ be in there somewhere). Imagine browsing a mythical Paul’s Boutique pawn shop with all sorts of silly American cultural artefacts in crowded narrow aisles, located in the most meltingly pot of Brooklyn neighbourhoods. That’s what listening to this album is like.

Lyrically, the boys stepped up their game too (The Sounds Of Science invented nerdcore!), but they still find time for hitting on girls, carefree shenanigans and causing mischief. So if you’re one of those “only Licensed To Ill, yo” types, give this one a whirl too. How can you hate on a song about throwing eggs at people?

ACE TRACKS: March 2014

Ah yes, the “Sykonee Listens To Ishkur’s Old CDs” month. And that was only the last-half! Prior to that, it was all those Mixed Goods CDs of mine, and a few odds and ends of weird variety before that. We got ourselves a fun one, folks, for ACE TRACKS: March 2014!



Full track list here.

MISSING ALBUMS:
The Future Sound Of London - Environments 3
The Future Sound Of London - Environments II
Tool - Ænima
Fehrplay - Meow
And obviously all Mixed Goods, but at least a third of those tracks are available on Spotify anyway.

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 0%
Percentage of Neil Young: 0%
Most “WTF?” Track: Aqua - Roses Are Red (not for the actual song, but for how I’ve strategically placed it for maximum “WTF” potential)

Whoa, a whole month’s worth of reviews with nary a hip-hop cut or Neil Young croon. And yet, this is undoubtedly the rock-heaviest Playlist I’ve done, and am likely ever to do. There’s hard rock, arena rock, alternative rock, metal rock, other-metal rock, and grunge too. Unless I take on another friend or associate’s old CD collection, I can’t see any more Playlists veering so far off the electronic music path as this one. And yet, it never feels like the house, techno, downtempo, and experimental chill-out are shoved to the side, flowing almost seamlessly between the post-guitar-blues material. I never though FSOL and Beck needed pairing together, yet here it is - now I desperately want them to get wicked-stoned in a studio and cranking out nothing short of a double-LP of weirdness.

I feared this playlist would turn into as much of a clusterfuck as April 2014’s, but as long as you don’t mind all the rock, it’s good listening. No doubt it helps when I don’t award ACE TRACK status to full 2CD-length albums.

Kenji Kawai - 2002 Patlabor 2: The Movie "Sound Renewal"

Vap: 1993/2002

I indulge in anime every so often, but am nowhere near otaku levels (ignore that one year marathon in my early twenties, ne?), and definitely not to such a degree I'll snatch up soundtracks. Oh, there’s plenty of stunning works available should you go digging around, but I’m at best a casual watcher. Why, then, do I have the score to Patlabor 2, an anime that, while not hopelessly obscure, seldom comes up in discussion, especially musically. It's certainly no Macross, Cowboy Bebop, or [insert modern classic Sykonee should be checking out]. Heck, it's not even a Ghost In The Shell, the movie director Mamoru Oshii and composer Kenji Kawai worked on right after this one. In some ways though, Patlabor 2 is a conceptual precursor to their work on that flick. To get into those details, however, would utterly derail this review, and I’m here to talk music, not anime - you’ll have to find another site for that (I recommend Anime Abandon by Bennett “The Sage”, should he ever get around to reviewing Patlabor) [2024 Update: or KaiserBeamz].

While Oshii’s gone down as one of anime’s most influential directors, it’s his partnership with Kawai that helped solidify his legacy. They share a film-making synergy similar to the likes of Burton and Elfman, in that you can’t help but think of the two in unison despite occasionally doing projects without the other’s input. Kawai’s also incredibly diverse when called upon, even within the Patlabor pantheon of movies, OVAs, and TV series. Peppy j-pop, traditional Japanese orchestral, and future-shock industrial, he finds ways molding his music as needed to fit the situation, and as Patlabor 2’s all about political intrigue and philosophical quandary in a near-future mecha-milieu, you bet we get ample amounts of the latter styles on this score.

As Oshii often makes use of montages in this movie (at least, when characters aren’t discussing the meaning of existence, or something), the music had to match the imagery in narrative drive. Thus, Asia’s slow tribal rhythm and ominous strings build upon the growing sense of unease as martial law is instilled upon Tokyo; ...with Love’s gentle pianos and pads contrast with harsh, tentative synths as Nagumo questions her allegiance between her duty and her heart; ”IXTL” trudges along a slow EBM beat and soft falsetto choir, far from the sort of music you’d expect from an action climax, but keeping in tone with the minimalist direction Oshii went with. Wait, when did this turn into a movie review too?

All well and good, but the piece I ultimately bought this soundtrack for was Unnatural City. A recurring motif throughout the movie (there’s three variations), it’s a simple bit of music, haunting discordant pads casting feelings of contemplation and doubt upon the scenes it plays. The easy comparisons are Eno and Glass, but Kawai injects just enough traditional instrumentation underneath to make this sound wholly his own. It’s also perfect for late nights when you find yourself staring out at city lights.

Biosphere - Patashnik

Apollo: 1994

Patashnik is very much a transitional album for Geir Jenssen, which is odd considering it’s only the second Biosphere release in a discography that includes some dozen or so LPs. Even this early in his career though, the man from Northern Norway was looking beyond the ambient techno he helped define, away from the dance floors and chill-out rave tents and towards more noble pursuits like film scores and art galleries. Well, at least a Levi advertisement, the single Novelty Waves earning him some extra coin for its usage in a jeans commercial. And why not? With its groovy techno beat and stone-cold electro sounds, can you think of a better soundtrack for Depression Era Mid-West America? Wait, what?

What I’m getting at here is, while Microgravity’s rave roots were inescapable, Patashnik doesn’t indulge in them as often. Even when Jenssen does make a dance floor friendly track, it comes off as lip-service, many of his rhythms rudimentary as far as techno of the time was concerned. The aforementioned Novelty Waves is definitely one of the stronger beats found here, but Seti Project is little more than standard high-energy trance. You’d think ‘trance’ and ‘Biosphere’ would be a match made in arctic heaven, yet there’s little in Seti Project that you couldn’t find on dozens of Eye-Q or MFS records. Meanwhile, the titular cut doesn’t sound far off from an early Aphex Twin leftover, Botanical Dimensions carries on the ‘bleep’ techno movement in a quietly subdued manner, while Caboose and The Shield are essentially recycled ambient dub grooves. At least Decryption’s slow ambient techno pulse far better serves the Biosphere stylee than the rest of these tracks. Not that the melodies, synth sounds and song craft contained in all these tracks are bunk, but the rhythms oddly date Patashnik even more so than Microgravity’s offerings.

The ambient compositions, however, sound like they were intended for an entirely different album. Opener Phantasm is all kinds of creepy with children intoning they had shared dreams, and a melody sounding like an off-key radar-ping metronome only adds to the eerie atmosphere. Following that, Startoucher is endlessly desolate and cold, even with a charming bit of dialog about reaching out to the stars at night - you just know ol’ Geir was inspired by the dead of Tromsø winter on this one. Further along the album, Mir takes you to the lonely Russian space station, while En-Trance is… a completely different track from everything else under the Biosphere banner to that point. Gentle, strumming guitars? What are you trying to do, Geir, make ‘real’ music or something? Because you’d be totally awesome at it!

Despite the differing styles of music on Patashnik, they’re all arranged such that it makes for an agreeable listen from start to finish – Jenssen knows how to sequence an LP, even if he only has a general theme to build upon. Following this one though, he’d tighten his inspirations up to such a degree, he’d leave several ambient classics in his wake.

Alio Die - Password For Entheogenic Experience

Hic Sunt Leones: 1998

Don’t for a minute think we’re out of the single-track ambient-drone woods (The Noodle Forest!). The albums I reviewed at the start of September were only the ones in the back-half of the alphabet – we’ve still a whole second-half to navigate through, and you can bet there’s a few more super-long pieces of minimalist synth work lurking in the shadows. I think, I hope, JLIAT’s piece was the worst of it, because I can’t take any more mind numbing hour-length anti-music compositions like that one. I don’t care if it’s just two notes looping; at least the second note provides variety.

Still, there’s usually an interesting backstory behind these musicians and artists that I can shoot the shit for a couple hundred words over. Like this here Alio Die, or Stefano Musso to the Italian demographics bureau. Between solo output and collaborative work, he's released some forty-plus albums in twenty-five years of music making. That's a ridiculous amount of material for someone that hasn't gained much attention for his efforts beyond the most discerning of ambient connoisseurs. Then again, the whole 'post-Eno' scene is filled with such producers (Vidna Obmana, Robert Rich, Tetsu Inoue,Mathias Grassow... the list is nigh endless), to say nothing of the amateur ambient acts that have been inspired by their work. Standout names and captivating compositions are all too often overlooked by folks with only a passing interest in ambient, many quite content settling for your Enos, Roaches, and Namlooks while ignoring the rest. I mean, how bloody dedicated must you be to diligently buy everything from even one of these guys when they have dozens upon dozens of albums to their names? No wonder it’s easy losing sight of them in The Noodle Forest – every release is a tree!

Anyhow, here we are with Password For Entheogenic Experience, which I'm reviewing because, for all of Alio Die's lengthy music making, he doesn't often do the one-track album trick; two tracks breaching thirty minutes apiece, sure, but seldom a single one nearing the sixty-five minute mark. But here it is, officially listed as an album that I must honor in my mad listening endeavor. Ah well, at least this is ambient proper, good for the background.

Password For Entheogenic Experience is also good for meditation, given the style of ambient this is. While calming synth drones play a primary role, Alio Die occasionally adds field recordings, chimes, and synths resembling Indian instruments. Additionally, a curious bit of clicking in the background serves as a rhythm, which undoubtedly aids breathing exercises or yoga stretches. Remarkably, this is quite an engaging piece of music, Mr. Musso keeping things ever morphing and flowing as it plays out, arriving at quite a different place from where it started. While I can’t say I was one-hundred percent connected for its duration, I didn’t zone out as often as I have with other ultra-long drone pieces. That’s about as high of praise as I can offer with ambient of this sort.

Ferry Corsten - Passport: United States Of America (Original TC Review)

Ultra Records: 2007

(2014 Update:
Was I ever prophetic with my quip of "blink and you'll miss it", Passport folding after this one, only the second in the series. Not sure why Corsten canned it so quickly. Maybe it didn't do the business he'd hoped, or it was simply a short-term flirtation with a concept. Whatever the case, he established his Once Upon A Night series a few years after this, which is now up to its fourth volume and remains his regular DJ Mix CD franchise. As far as I can tell though, it receives even less notice than Passport did, but then most of his fans follow his Corsten Countdown radio shows anyway.

As for this CD, I think I was a bit too hard on the euro-trance offerings in the second half of the CD. While I maintain they weren't doing much new for the time, compared to where the genre's gone, these are perfectly enjoyable pieces of melodic fluff. Guess I was still in my 'anti epic-trance' grumble-mode when I wrote this, though at least more diplomatic and detailed in explaining such sentiments compared to my 2006 writings. That said, I doubt I'll be throwing this one on again for a very long time. Why should I, when I have all those In Trance We Trust CDs from the same period? Hah-hah... ha!)


IN BRIEF: Workmanlike in every regard.

For a guy who almost single-handily propelled trance music into public consciousness, Ferry Corsten remained relatively humble. His Trance Nation series helped established the genre as the soundtrack for a generation of clubbers, yet he never overreached his ability, quite content remaining in a comfortable, competent niche. This may in part have to do with the fact he’s largely considered himself a producer first and a DJ second, so the desire to earn the accolades of the DJing elite never became a focus of his career.

With that in mind, most of his mix compilations in recent years haven’t been met with the same amount of fanfare as his musical peers. This new series, Passport, is as indicative of this as anything. Already out for a month, America has a feeling of ‘blink, and you’ll miss it’ about. There are a number of contributing factors for this, but let’s deal with the most important one here: the music.

Straight up, this is a remarkably monotonous collection of music considering Corsten’s name is attached to it. Whether it’s trance or nu-electro, the guy can always be counted on for party rockers, and such moments are few on this release. Divided into two, the first half leaves the impression he’s mellowed out, proggin’ up his sound like many of the older trance jocks did when they shifted genres. Not that he’s ever played this style before, but it certainly isn’t what he’s known for, and to dedicate a large portion of this DJ mix to it is surprising.

Let me be clear, though: this isn’t prog like Bedrock or Global Underground - more like the lightweight stuff Gabriel & Dresden popularized a few years back, and really has no official designation [it does now! –2014 Syk]. It’s too sluggish to be trance, too unfunky to be house, and too pap to be prog proper. So it remains in prog limbo, derided as McProg and jumped on by epic trance jocks when they want to play something ‘deep’.

But deep it is not. Unremarkable rhythms, trite poppy vocals, and scant melodies are to be found instead. Solarstone’s Late Summer Fields is nice enough and Mind One’s Hurt Of Intention has a rather catchy chorus, but most of these tracks plod along, with Nic Chagall’s remix of Wippenberg’s Promisedland being the worst offender. I swear the Cosmic Gate member is on a one-man mission to turn prog into a lifeless parody of itself.

If the mix didn’t grab your attention for most of the opening chunk, then Megashira definitely will. It contains a hook that is so hideous, it’s stoopid-good; like an amped-up hoover synth. I can see why Corsten would want to use this, as it sounds like the kind of thing he might have made himself lately.

From there, Corsten segues into trancier tunes. The good news is the atmosphere of Passport does turn more pleasant; the bad news is the set barely picks up at all. This isn’t so much a case of laid-back vibes keeping things mellow - which would be fine - but rather Corsten’s track selection and arrangement is middling: predictable melodies, perfunctory mixing, oodles of reverb and breakdowns. The same ol’ story with most trance these days, really. If you’re new to it all or still cling to 2001 nostalgia, you’ll love it; for everyone else, it’ll sound all too familiar.

Actually, very familiar in two cases. The new Flashover remix of Insolation is the obvious example but Casey Keyworth’s The Sunlight (as Breakfast) is the startling one. During the two-minute breakdown/build - amongst a wash of reverb effects - a backing synth pad plays a nice melody that strikes an uncanny resemblance to Robert Nickson’s Spiral of three years ago. Supposedly they were both written around the same time and the similarity is entirely coincidental, but fact of the matter is Spiral has had bigger exposure in that time, whereas The Sunlight only now has seen an official release on Ferry’s label. That’s how the ball bounces in the music business though.

As for the rest of Passport, there are a few fine moments: Corsten’s contributions shine compared to the rest, proving he’s still better at this sound than everyone that has copied him since; and Joni Ljungqvist (aka: JPL) continues to show promise at making trance that is actually trance-inducing. Beyond that, there’s very little else of note.

Now, don’t take my indifferent tone to mean this is a bad release. Ferry maintains an amiable tone to the proceedings, making Passport at least an agreeable listen. However, if you’re looking for something that will knock your socks off with energy or sweep you away in euphoria (much less be mesmerized by actual DJ technique), you’ve come to the wrong CD. This is a mix that doesn’t reach far, quite content to let the tracks on Ferry’s label be the centerpieces (of which about a third makes up the tracklist), complemented with a few well-known tunes to pad it out with the filler. Sadly, judging by the offerings on America, the current crop of Flashover Recordings probably won’t be much remembered a couple years down the road, lost in the annual pile of melodic trance glut.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2007. © All rights reserved

Various - Passages: Framed By Nova

Ultimae Records: 2014

Mr. Nova – or Massimo Terranova, if you want to get fancy with him – first became involved with Ultimae about a decade ago, though not in any capacity most would notice. He often serves as the label’s PR man, and does the DJ circuit when called upon, deferring the limelight to producers and other folks about the Lyon offices. Occasionally he’s contributed a compilation or two to the Ultimae library, though unlike Mahiane, hasn’t settled upon any specific theme. The first was titled Albedo, the second Imaginary Friends, and this most recent one is called Passages. So… the reflective lights of ghosts will take us places? Yeah, no. These are all self-contained CDs, singular compilations that I guess Ultimae is obligated to put out at least once per year now that Fahrenheit Project is tripping the light retired.

Or maybe Nova just wanted his say on Ultimae’s ‘gray period’ before they moved on to another phase. At least, I’m assuming the label’s moving on from it soon, as their last couple releases have been quite colourful in comparison to most of 2013’s output. As Passages came out earlier in 2014, it would make a fitting conclusion to this chapter in Ultimae’s history – like, taking a passage from where they were to where they’re going, yes? I’ll stop worming significance into the title now.

So this CD has the usual assortment of familiar and outside talent making up the track list. James Murray pops back up, as does Lars Leonhard, Cygna and Cell, giving a rub on his Connect.Ohm project. Aes Dana naturally contributes, and it couldn’t be a ‘gray period’ Ultimae compilation without music from Miktek and Fingers In The Noise. Murya, who appeared on the prior Nova collection Imaginary Friends, gets a new track in, while Max Million pops up too. I haven’t seen the names Brando Lupi, Martin Nonstatic, or Zinovia before, but Lord Discogs tells me they’re raising talents modern chill's growing list of producers.

Right, the actual music. There’s little surprising on Passages, if I’m honest, but all of it remains totally class as Ultimae continuously is wont to do. The general style Nova’s curated here is minimalist, dubby ambient techno, with touches of modern classical piano and orchestral flourishes for good measure. It isn’t as pretentious as I’ve probably made it sound. I guess it wouldn’t help matters if I added ‘glitch’ to that description too? I mean, what else can I call Cygna’s Whitin? That rhythm is so restrained and clicky, it’d make Mille Plateaux say, “yo, beef that bass”; lovely cinematic swells, though.

The highest praise I can give Passages is, should you somehow have ignored Ultimae for this long (a near-impossibility if you’ve been reading this blog for any length of time, but bear with me), this is a good jumping-on point. It doesn’t tell their whole story, but effectively portrays the sound they’ve cultivated their last couple years. I’d expect nothing less from their resident PR man.