Various - Platipus Records: The Ultimate Dream Collection

Popular Records: 1995

I honestly haven’t a clue how this 2CD collection came to be. On paper, it’s simple enough: the first two volumes of Platipus Records’ annual label showcase in a single, tidy collection – an ‘ultimate dream collection’, if you will! – now made available in North America without obscene import fees. Simon Berry’s growing print needed a foothold over here as it was, and surely one of the homegrown, underground electronic music labels would provide an outlet: Moonshine, Hypnotic, Instinct, maybe even Astralwerks. Wait, you’re going with Popular Records? The upstart Euro-Dance label that’s promoting the likes of J.K, 2 Brothers On The 4th Floor, and N-Trance? Berry, you boss, how did you pull a deal like that off? Your brand of acid trance might have critical buzz in your U.K. homeland, but here in Americas, no way was there any commercial potential for-

Oh, Robert Miles’ Children (Dream Version) is on here. Well, that explains that. Popular just wanted that one track, and you let them have it in exchange for taking on the first two volumes of Platipus Records as well. That’s my theory, but if so, bravo, Mr. Berry, for it sure conned a few people I knew into buying this double-discer for only one song.

Contrarian that I must be though, I bought Platipus Records: The Ultimate Dream Collection for the other twenty tracks. Okay, roughly eighteen others – I can do without the goofy What? from Catalyst and way under-produced Sea Of Tranquility from Art Of Trance. An affordable 2CD set of trance though, how could any budding 'cracker resist such a deal? I'll put up with Children if it means I get to discover new artists like Art Of Trance, Union Jack, Poltergeist, and Clanger! Wait, why do they all sound so similar, what with distinct burbling acid basslines, rough rhythms, and vocal ethnic samples?

Yeah, I realize Platipus was young, had yet to gather an extended roster they could promote, but holy cow, Mr. Berry, whore out your own music much? Whether as original artist, collaborator or remixer, ol' Simon has credits in all but four tracks: the aforementioned Children and What?, plus Quietman's Plastic Gourd, and Technosommy's Elektron Bender. Of course, this is great news if you can't get enough of his vintage acid trance, with plenty of classics making up the track list: Two Full Moons & A Trout, Red Herring, Cambodia, The Colours, Seadog, Orange, and Cactus. And hey, there's even two versions of Octopus (original and Man With No Name Remix) and Vicious Circles (Spirit Level Mix and Union Jack Mix). This last one's a bit funny hearing twice, since, beyond a bassier climax, there isn't much difference between the two mixes. Then again, they were initially on two separate releases so most folks wouldn't have noticed it.

They'd definitely notice how much of a sore-thumb Children is on this collection though - off to BMG with ya', Mr. Miles. There's acid trance to soak in here instead!

Jefferson Airplane - Platinum & Gold Collection

BMG Heritage: 2003

It may be the biggest fucking cliché having Jefferson Airplane in a music collection, but what was an aging counter-culture chap to do? I was already in my mid-Twenties, man, feeling my grimy raver’s roots slipping away as the allure of proper clubbing beckoned in the big city. But I was still hip, yo’, still down with the folksy, psychedelic sounds that pot smokers and such couldn’t get enough of. I’ll prove it! There, that CD sitting in the bargain bin of this supermarket we’re currently rummaging through. It’s got a couple bona-fide classics of the San Fran’ ‘60s scene – heck, some of these members were utterly adamant that they built that city – built it – built that city – built – built that city on – built it – ‘n’ ro-o-o-l-l-l-l! Head trip, yeah.

Seriously though, the Jefferson Airplane story is a crucial one in understanding how influential their brand of folksy psychedelic rock became, endearing itself to a generation, and several others after who admire the hippie lifestyle (*cringe*). It's only fitting that the band came to an end as the '70s took hold, creative differences leading to a split – one became Jefferson Starship, because '70s sci-fi and shit; the other became Hot Tuna, because '70s progressive, drugs and shit. And then there was just Starship in '80s, which was a huge commercial success and represented all that went wrong for '60s rockers in that decade. Let us never speak of it again.

Obviously with such timeless classics like White Rabbit, Somebody To Love, and... um... mmm… (*checks track list*) ah, Watch Her Ride, the Thomas Aviator Band's seen tons of official and unofficial greatest hits collections over the years. This is one of them. As I recall, the Platinum & Gold Collection series was BMG's excuse to trot out their catalog every so often, just in case you didn't already have these songs on CD or in this order yet (buy the albums? Pft, what are you, a vinyl enthusiast?). There really isn't much else to say about this particular compilation that a rock historian hasn't tirelessly detailed elsewhere.

The main take-away I got from Platinum & Gold Collection is how succinctly it summarizes the San Fran' music scene. The first couple tracks are incredibly folksy, which makes sense since Jefferson Airplane was only a small group of folk musicians when they debuted. Then the psychedelia rode in on a rainbow wave, and they got all trippy good – half this disc features songs from Surrealistic Pillow, from which their most memorable hits came about (adding Grace Slick to the line-up didn't hurt). Then everyone went crazy against war and all that bad stuff, protest rock the new hotness. Figures the final track on here, Volunteers is of the band chanting that there's a revolution going on (Woodstock anthem!). Appropriate for the Jefferson Airplane story ending there, then, before glum reality settled in for the starry-eyed hippie generation. Or a fitting conclusion to this CD. Take your pick.

Jaydee - Plastic Dreams

Epic: 1992/1993

Even in a scene filled with endlessly recycled one-hit wonders, Jaydee’s Plastic Dreams stands elite. Lord Discogs provides over one-hundred variations of the single, and nearly two-decade’s worth of updated remixes. Jaydee himself couldn’t help but make a Year 2000 remake, though I suppose he had to do something with it since he got around to releasing a Jaydee LP that year too. And while he's released other singles since Plastic Dreams, they've been infrequent and hardly remarked upon. Hell, it wouldn't surprise me if most folks didn't know this single has an honest-to-God second original production on the B-side to go with the main attraction. Now hum Single Minded People for my amusement. Go on, it can't be hard – the track's right there beside three versions of Plastic Dreams. How can you not remember it?

Jaydee - or Mr. Albers to you, sir – probably never intended to have a career-defining hit like this single. A hunch, perhaps, an intuition that this tune had potential in capturing the underground's ear, but by and large he was simply another respectfully successful club DJ that found a comfortable role in early '90s dance music's changing tides. Still, though it was possible in those days to sustain a career behind the decks, Mr. Albers had a bit more ambition than that. So he set up a label, First Impression, and began producing various house and trance records under a few aliases. Plastic Dreams as Jaydee was one such early effort, and it caught the ear of several larger labels, including R & S Records and even the mighty Sony (by way of Epic). Soon the single was finding compilation duty on every CD they could worm it onto, from the most obscure underground trance mix to the biggest commercial discs in every major music chain (fun fact: Teenage Sykonee first come into contact with Plastic Dreams on a CD that included Culture Beat's Mr. Vain, Deep Forest's Sweet Lullaby, and Sunscreem's Pressure Us - oh, Sony).

Since everyone’s heard the original, let’s get into the remixes on this particular single. Wait, you haven’t heard it? You’ve no idea about the groovy, shuffly rhythm, pulsing blast of didgeridoo (I think that’s what it is), or jazzy Hammond organ licks? Sucks to be you, then. I ain’t gonna’ hand-guide you through all these classics. Required listening, it is, so get on it.

Anyhow, remixes. There’s a Trance Mix on here, because even though Plastic Dreams is considered a house classic, Jaydee felt it better served in trance mixes and compilations. Okay, probably not, but if you wanted to hear the track with a few bright synth splashes, without the organ, and monotonously looped for seven minutes, this is the mix for you. Or how about Jaydee’s Groove Mix, which does away with the great beats of the original and sticks in a rote house rhythm instead? But hey, at least the organ’s retained!

Yeah, neither remix is of much interest. Stick to the original, always.

ACE TRACKS: February 2014

2014 itself went by reasonably swiftly, as the years are wont to do as you grow older. Looking back at what I’d reviewed in February though, I didn’t realize it went by that fast, marking the start of my sojourn through albums starting with ‘M’. I’m only mid-way through ‘P’ now, though to be fair, I’ve had a few lengthy detours along the way too. Still, it doesn’t seem so far back that I was reviewing Miktek and Cell for the first time.



Full track list here.

MISSING ALBUMS:
Various - Mechanophobia
Various - Masters Of The 1 & 2: History’s Greatest DJs
Various - Macro Dub Infection, Volume 1
Markus Schulz - Coldharbour Sessions 2004
Krusseldorf - Bohemian Groove [FOUND!]
Speedy J - Loudboxer [FOUND!]
Jean Michel Jarre - Chronologie [FOUND!]
Enigma - MCMXC, A.D. [FOUND!]

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 12%
Percentage of Neil Young: 0%
Most “WTF?” Track: Procs - Big Fat Snoring Lamas (because of course it would be)

Another fairly mellow playlist, this. Guess that’s what happens when one splurges on Ultimae back catalog, but ample amounts of dubby world-beat finds its way in here too. It was weird fitting Eminem into a collection of songs that includes Enigma and Jarre, but that’s also what makes listening to these so much fun, that sense of unexpected and unpredictable contrasts. Also, what's up with Cretu's first album being unavailable on Spotify? It's not like it's rare or anything - heck, that hopelessly forgotten Massive Passive psy trance compilation is there, but not MCMXC, A.D.? Senseless I says. [2024 UPDATE: not so senseless on Deezer though!]

Gorillaz - Plastic Beach (Proper Review)

Parlaphone: 2010

Damon Albarn and Jamie Hewlett, you brilliant bastards. First you create a charming ‘anti-pop’ pop cartoon band, then you give them ongoing history and continuity. Following that, you withhold working on said project for only those times you’re bothered to engage with it, turning each Gorillaz release into an event. I quipped in the kayfabe review the cartoon character’s antics were eclipsing their music, but reality isn’t that far off either. The release of Plastic Beach saw a ridiculous amount of multi-media promotion, fully embracing all the broadcasting power of our Web 2.0 society, including any extraneous detritus that comes with it (no, I don’t want the super-deluxe internet-enhanced version of this album, thank you, CD sticker).

Albarn's inspiration for this Gorillaz session came from an unusual place compared to previous albums. Instead of making a musical statement against the corporate machine, the rubbish buried in the sand near his beach house gave him pause with the current state of our planet. What a perfect time to ascend the soapbox then, especially under the guise of a beloved collection of world-class misfits. Hewlett, for his part, wasn't so convinced, feeling particularly finished with the whole Gorillaz concept. Still, with the opportunity to further morph his cartoon creations to reflect a growing sense of global crisis, he rose to the challenge. Murdoc turned further demonic; 2D became traumatized by the events, his distinct black eye sockets now pale white; Russell grew ginormous, a side-effect of swimming all the way to Plastic Beach while consuming all the nasty pollution in the waters between; Noodle was incognito, but don't worry, here's a cyborg replacement. Wee, such fun things we do to these fictional characters!

The result is one of the most conceptually cohesive LPs under the Gorillaz banner, with bittersweet funk and soul melded with tinny Casio electro-hop and quirky Brit-pop throughout. While some could argue such stylistic markers as a bit of a bandwagon jump on Albarn’s part (Owl City was omnipresent), it fits the tone Albarn was shooting for, a mishy-mash of plastic sounds, as though cobbled together from all manner of musical debris gathered at Point Nemo. Plenty of rappers once again join in for guest spots, including Snoop Dogg, Kano & Bashy, Mos Def, plus a returning De La Soul. Unfortunately, none of their verses match the highs found on older Gorillaz hits (you know the ones). Yet, I suspect that was intentional too, Plastic Beach not as interested in aiming for peak chart impact as before, even with a few earwormy bits like Stylo’s breezy electro-funk and On Melancholy Hill’s dreamy lullaby sweetness thrown in.

The caveat with Plastic Beach is it lacks the guiding hand of an establish hip-hop producer (Dangermouse, Dan The Automator), Albarn handling most of those duties himself this time out. He’s definitely learned a lot, showing skill in the style his taken on here. If you enjoyed older Gorillaz for the gritty hip-hop and fearless funk-fusion, however, it’s sorely lacking here.

Gorillaz - Plastic Beach (Kayfabe Review)

Parlaphone: 2010

The remarkable thing about Plastic Beach was that it got made at all. Murdoc Niccals must have burned so many bridges (not to mention countless buildings and studios) throughout his career, it’s any wonder he can find willing participants and collaborators for his music projects. Hell, rumors abound that 2D initially wasn't a willing participant, though Murdoc denies any allegations of kidnapping on his part. Mind, as with anything Mr. Niccals claims, take it with a twenty pound lump of salt, but one cannot deny 2D sounded about as fine in singing form throughout Plastic Beach as he ever has. Maybe he just needs Murdoc's, um, 'encouragement', every so often. Might explain the inspiration for that that secret solo album he recorded while the band was touring this one.

Or perhaps ol’ Murdoc had finally saw the excesses of his life consuming him, and he promised to turn over a new leaf if all his music friends came with him to Point Nemo in making this album. Either that, or he was in need of an army to defend him from those Boogiemen after him. Let this be a lesson to all you budding musicians out there: don’t make deals with the devil for your fame, or you’ll suffer from incessant collectors, and no amount of awesome bass shredding skills is worth that.

Okay, off my perch there. Point is, Murdoc must have gotten incredibly reflective of his life to have written an album like this one. Plastic Beach was never going to be Demon Days, for no better fact than Noodle couldn’t contribute to this album (and sorry, Mr. Niccals, the cyborg could never replace her). A shame, since a few upbeat tunes like Dirty Harry and Dare might have elevated Plastic Beach to unprecedented heights of awesome. Ah well, she had other issues to deal with at the time. Now that the band’s all back together though (where ever they’re currently hiding), maybe they’ll finally find a new studio, and we can hear a proper full-on Gorillaz collaborative project!

Plastic Beach though, man is it ever a mellow album. It boggles my mind that Murdoc wrote the entirety of it – seriously, are there ghostwriters here? That guy from Blur, for instance, who headlined the second unit Gorillaz tour group, he looks suspicious. Or maybe Murdoc is just a bigger softy than he ever lets on, a gumdrop sugar candy wrapped in icky green skin complexion. Guess that would explain why all these rappers and musicians came when he called upon them, though it would have been nice if he’d waited for Russel to show up too. Right, Murdoc felt the Casio drums fit the Plastic Beach theme, but I’m missing that tasty, bassy hip-hop funk from way back in the day. Changing tides, I guess.

Plastic Beach is fine for what it is, though unfortunately the events surrounding the band tended to overshadow the music within. So it goes with Gorillaz these days, doesn’t it?

Tomita - The Planets

RCA Red Seal: 1976/1991

Ol' Isao proved he could create clever synthesizer interpretations of the classics with Firebird, outclassing even the pioneering work Wendy Carlos did with Hooked On Bach. There was a sense, however, he was selling his potential short in keeping his chosen works 'grounded'. Whereas most modern classicists were content in doing straight-forward covers, Tomita's style suggested room for experimentation and free-flowing expressionism - his works need not be intended for art houses or chambers, but capable of sending the listener into the wider cosmos above. Just borrow a few stylistic markers from those Berlin guys, and Tomita could craft music as futurist as anything conceived from sci-fi's golden years.

Okay, I’ve no idea whether it was Tomita’s intent in turning his focus primarily towards space music, but this album sure supports the theory. Gustav Holst’s The Planets is considered one of orchestral music’s defining suites, with various portions, passages, and pieces adapted into several genres since (progressive rock adores it). The concept was simple enough: each planet has its own musical theme derived from its astrological attribute, a fair idea since science was still sketchy on several of our solar system’s neighbours. Thus Mars: The Bringer Of War is fierce and aggressive, while Venus: The Bringer Of Peace is tranquil and lovely – which is practically opposite of what those planets are like in reality. Mercury: The Winged Messenger’s spritely, sunny bounce makes good sense for the innermost body though, and having Neptune: The Mystic quietly fade out to ghostly, lonesome choirs evokes the wondrous mysteries that lurked beyond the largely unknown blue ice giant. The Planets may have been astrological in inspiration, but Holst couldn’t resist adding a little astronomy in there too. Tomita, on the other hand, fully embraces it wherever he can. After a whole lot of music box tinkering and robot Moog squawking, The Planets literally lifts off on rockets.

Talking about these pieces in specific detail won’t do much good on my part, especially if you’re familiar with the original orchestral arrangements (if you aren’t, get on that, mang!). The attributes Tomita brings probably won’t surprise folks already weaned on his other works either, much less modern classical in general. What gives The Planets such standout quality though, is how ol’ Isao flits between grand space opera and pulpy sci-fi quirk throughout, keeping you guessing exactly where he’s taking things next. It’d be far simpler to rely on basic substitutes, but Tomita’s fearless in having singing Moogs, simulated radio chatter, and far-out flanged pads sharing the spotlight with symphonic synth strings, organs, and harps. It’s remarkable just how much millage Tomita got out of his hardware here, apparently all performed on his own. Holst’s estate sure weren’t impressed though, forcing The Planets’ initial vinyl run off shelves in short order – same ol’ difficulties for these modern classicists, eh?

This is a great album, essential listening for anyone with a hankering for raw, exploratory ‘70s synth works. I would say that with a ‘Saturn’ track, wouldn’t I?

Various - Planet Rave, Vol. 1 (2014 Update)

Triloka Records: 2000

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review)


This CD really could use a do-over review. The one I originally wrote reeked of early amateur ‘skill’, rambling on with inconsequential tangents and wilfully injecting personal opinions where they weren't warranted (to say nothing about taking forever in getting to an actual point). Come to think of it, there are a number of reviews like that from the early TranceCritic years. With most of these full-length Updates, I usually shoot the shit about my old writing process, maybe throw in an anecdote or three, and fill in any noteworthy developments with the artist or label involved. I haven't considered writing a 'better' review as an option, because what else can I say that wasn't exhaustively covered in an old one? Yet that's beside the point, isn't it – why not offer something actually readable instead of eye-numbingly detailed? Lord knows there are a few such releases coming up that deserve a good, updated review.

Which bring me back to Planet Rave, Vol. 1: does it deserve such a do-over? That isn’t a slam against Triloka Records, but I know what’s up. I can feel the apathy oozing from your eye-sockets, the drab cover-art sapping your will to read much further than this. Even back when it sat in the early TranceCritic archives with little competition for attention, it languished in obscurity. Of course, a generic title like this one won’t entice curious explorers of overlooked music either.

Ironic, isn’t it. Triloka’s entire manifesto was built around bringing overlooked music from around the world to the ears of adventurous American audiences. Some of it was re-distribution of early world beat, such as the Bill Laswell sample-heavy project Material or euro-dancey Indian-pop German group Dissidenten (yes, that was somehow a legitimate thing). Or you might find a few oddities in the Triloka discography, such as Junior Vasquez providing a remix of harpist Emer Kenny’s Golden Brown - say, did Joanna Newsom ever get a Junior Vasquez remix? I bet not!

Even those names are comparatively known compared to the sorts that made up Triloka’s rotation. Ismaël Lô, Ashkaru, Little Wolf Band, Wasis Diop, Walela, Ziroq, Freddie Redd (!): this is some deep digging from many corners of the world, my friends. Two of the heavily featured groups on Planet Rave, Vol. 1 (note: there never was a Vol. 2) are Tulku and Jai Uttal & The Pagan Love Orchestra, hardly house-hold names but the closest thing to in-house stars the label managed. I maintain throwing in five Tulka tracks – including three remixes of Meena Devi - is overkill on a CD intended as a label showcase, but I cannot deny the group had crossover success. Well, if you consider being featured in the Brendan Fraser/Elizabeth Hurley comedy Bedazzled a crossover success – probably got more exposure from frequent Buddha Bar appearances.

And I’ve about run out of self-imposed word count. No proper do-over review for Planet Rave, Vol. 1, then, wonky track sequencing and all. So it goes for the Triloka legacy, sadly.

Various - Planet Dance

Tommy Boy Silver Label: 2000

Planet Dance is another entry in the ongoing history of “Good Music, Bad Covers”. To begin with, the title is utterly generic, and though hyperbolic sub-titles are almost mandatory, even a rote rookie wouldn’t be fooled into thinking Planet Dance is selling what it claims. I’ll give some credit for choosing a minimalist design in artwork, but I’m not sure what that thing is supposed to be. An all-white ‘P’ overlapping a block-spectrum of a ‘D’? And the logo in the bottom corner, is that really Tommy Boy’s, the label famously known as an early leader in hip-hop and urban soul? When did they get on the dance music money train?

Truth be told, they’ve flirted in and out of dance culture for just as long, including a few hip-house tracks when it had short-lived chart strength. After Daft Punk re-invigorated house music and the clubs that supported it in the back-half of the ‘90s, it wasn’t such a bad idea to throw one’s hat into the lucrative pile. Tommy Boy already had plenty of ties and connections to New York City clubs, and a little extra market penetration outside their core demographic wouldn’t hurt. Big gay diva house it is, then.

Thus Tommy Boy established a sub-label specifically catering to the needs of house heads, Tommy Boy Silver. Planet Dance is a summation of tracks that had been released through the label’s first couple years of existence, and remarkably ace throughout for a bandwagon jump. While I wouldn’t call all these ‘club hits’ like the CD claims, there are quite a few memorable anthems on here, and plenty of noteworthy names of the time, including Cevin Fisher leading the charge. Never a bad thing hearing Burning Up or The Freaks Come Out again; a few Junior Vasquez remixes also goes down easy. Squeezed into this mix are a few surprises too.

For instance, Demi Moore is on here! Yes, that Moore, sampled from a world-beat track where she read poetry, now set to a big house cut with orchestral swells and builds (A Gift Of Love’s Do You Love Me, for the record). Or how about a pre-Get Physical M.A.N.D.Y. showing up as Oakland Stroke for a funky outing in Planet Whip, inspired by the way-oldie Let It Whip from Dazz Band? Yeah, didn’t see that one coming, did you?

Nor a pile of hard house either, I wager. Not content in cornering the disco house scene, Tommy Boy Silver got in on the ravier side of things, including Mario Più’s hit Communication (aka: that phone song), and the one-off DJ Irene project P.I.M.P. Project (Kick Your Legs Higher is proto-‘donk’!). Bridging the gap between hard house and progressive house (kinda’) is Hypertrophy, with four tracks of theirs in this mix – geez, they only released five singles. It’s probably a bit much for those who never cared for ‘bells-n-plucks’ riffs, but when surrounded with strong funky vibes, they make for nice sweetener. Definitely a surprising keeper, Planet Dance is.

William Ørbit - Pieces In A Modern Style

WEA Records: 2000

It’s this album’s fault. Those crummy trance remixes of classical music wouldn’t exist had William Orbit not set the standard for synth covers of the form. Well, okay, it wasn’t specifically his fault, since it was a Ferry Corsten remix of his interpretation of Adagio For Strings that got Tiësto’s megalomania rolling and weak-sauce Classical Trancelation bilge encroaching upon the market. None of it would have happened if Orbit hadn’t allowed the Corsten remix in the first place, thus preventing further ‘inspirations’ from lesser producers. Except for whoever was inspired by Cygnus-X’s The Orange Theme instead, I guess - that one got remixed and covered a bunch too. But no one would have made dance music with classical music without Orbit’s initial guiding hand. Save all those old school rave acts that flat-out sampled orchestral musical passages. Orbit though, he made it all popular and shit, that’s what happened. Not that Isao Tomita hadn’t beaten him to the punch twenty years earlier. Umm…

Help me out here, guys. Why was this album so bad again? It isn’t? Well, that’s news, considering the reputation Pieces In A Modern Style earned in the wake of everything that followed. I suppose a smidge of blame can be pointed here for Orbit’s Adagio For Strings immersing itself into clubland’s consciousness - before that, it was primarily only known to non-classical buffs for that scene in Platoon. Yet, using Romantic and baroque scales in trance music was inevitable, those sweeping musical swells tailor-made for hands-in-the-air euphoria. Okay, Orbit, you’re off the hook on this one.

Here's the crux of Pieces In A Modern Style: for a classical music covers collection, it's adequately quaint. Like many instances of Orbit's pop productions, this music goes down easy, like a cool cup of water with a hint of honey, but still far and away from the sort of electronic music he was known for. Small surprise he’d go with an alias of The Electric Chamber to initially release it then, hedging his bets that the audience who enjoyed the Strange Cargo series wouldn’t be too warm to this material; or he hoped he’d sneak the album through the licensing lawyers unnoticed. That didn’t work out for him though, and Pieces In A Modern Style was promptly withdrawn from stores, mostly unremarked and forgotten.

Flash forward a few years, and Orbit’s hit the big time by giving Madonna some of her biggest hits in years! Shit, son, with that kind of clout back on his side, why not re-release the passion project from before? After excising the troubling tracks, he added in a few more new works from Beethoven, Cage, Vivaldi, and Handel, and the rest is history, bringing another side of Orbit’s to the limelight. Pieces like Ogive, Opus 123, and Xerxes are all quite lovely and dreamy, though hardly challenging in their interpretations. Ol’ William has his distinctive style, and utilized it in pieces from the ancient school. A handy beginner’s CD into modern classical, this.