The Police - Reggatta de Blanc

A&M Records: 1979

With Reggatta de Blanc, The Police went from catchy punk oddities to catchy ‘cod reggae’ oddities, and scored the big number one on the UK charts in doing so. Man, why do so many ‘reggae by white rock groups’ always hit the charts like that? I can see it happening the late ‘70s, when reggae was growing in popularity, but that trend continues to this day. Why don’t folks vibe on the authentic stuff more? It’s not like understanding the lyrics is crucial or anything – I sure can’t understand what them Jamaicans are going on about most of the time. At least The Police had the sense approaching the genre with both respect and tongue planted firmly in cheek, fully admitting in the title of the album that, yes, you’re in for some ‘white reggae’ (and a little post-punk).

This is The Police album no one’s embarrassed having in their collection. Like, Outlandos might be a bit too punky, Zenyatta a bit too simple, Ghost a bit too weird, and Synchronicity a bit too ‘80s, but Reggatta? Everyone loves that one, even if they only remember a few songs off of it. Message In A Bottle is the big one though, scoring the band their first number one single in the UK, plus Top 10 in several others (not in America though – guess they’d yet to catch onto reggae-rock). It’s hard denying the song craft involved in this one, an instantly memorable guitar hook complemented by some of Copeland’s best drumming and one of Sting’s all-time greatest pieces of lyricism. You can take the tale literally, of an unlucky chap lost at sea, or metaphorically, a sad soul alone in the world, each equally vivid in its narration. I’m not just blowing smoke up The Police’s asses either, each member often claiming Message In A Bottle one of their finest moments as a band.

That tight musicianship is prevalent throughout Reggatta de Blanc, even with a rather slap-dash approach to writing. Story goes they didn’t have much idea of an album going in, running with whatever material they could come up with on the fly. Fortunately, they hang off so many winning hooks and lyrics throughout, their musical indulgences are allowed. Give us all that weightless reverb in Walking On The Moon! Mr. Summers, you go right ahead with those rhythmic reverb diddly-dos on your guitar in The Bed’s Too Big Without You! Mr. Copeland, all those wonderful drum fills in Deathwish, don’t you stop! And boys, with the titular cut, what a build!

Mind you, this isn’t a perfect album by any means. The punk holdovers like It’s Alright For You and No Time This Time aren’t as good as the Outlandos material, and Copeland’s novelty tunes (hilariously cynical On Any Other Day, bass-fuzz Contact, and piano ditty Does Everyone Stare) are strictly fans-only. With such a timeless cut like Message In A Bottle on hand though, it’s hard not becoming a fan of The Police thereafter.

Solar Fields - Reflective Frequencies

Ultimae Records: 2001/2008

You’d think Solar Fields’ debut album would get talked up often, but it’s hardly ever mentioned. For most, Magnus Birgersson’s project starts whenever they were first exposed to one of his later albums. The psy scene caught on to him with Blue Moon Station, the trance scene joined in with EarthShine, and most chill-out aficionados hitched their wagons with Movements. I’m sure late-comers were aware older Solar Fields LPs existed, but only the hardcore would invest in them, in part due to scarcity of limited issue runs. Then again, if you’re really curious, there’s always the digital realm, but that’s denying experiencing a Solar Fields album proper-like, hard copy in hand on a full sound system. You know I’m right!

*Ahem*. In all seriousness, I think Reflective Frequencies goes neglected because of how un-Solar Fieldsy it generally sounds. While Mr. Birgersson often hops genres with every full-length outing, he always retains a distinct emotional core within his music that’s uniquely his own, a warmth that can melt the coldest of hearts. Such attributes are seriously lacking on his debut though, where sound experiments and stark ambient techno rule the day. In all honesty, Reflective Frequencies sounds very much like a Future Sound Of London album, and I’ve no doubt you could fool a casual listener of that should one be so tempted to.

There’s future-shock trip-hop (6.7, Blue Light…, …Red Vortex, Inherit Velocity, Zero Rotation), cybernetic sound collages (Echoing Spectrum, Self Transforming Experience (First Movement), Overlapping Particles, Nea 3, Breathing Neutron Empire), and trippy ambient techno as heard echoing through dead cities (Floating Channels, Zone 12, Outlined Surfaces). Tell me those descriptors don't sound like a long lost mid-’90s FSOL album. And dammit, I know I shouldn’t make that comparison, but it’s hard shaking off. If you add a little extra psychedelia and a conceptual narrative to Reflective Frequencies, you’d have the album most folks expected Cobain and Dougans to deliver about the same year rather than The Isness.

Which still isn’t the best selling point for a Solar Fields debut album, is it? Ah well, for an ‘ambient techno by way of FSOL’ LP, Reflective Frequencies is plenty good, and contain little touches throughout that hint at the music Mr. Birgersson would craft in the future. Zero Rotation has a small amount of prog groove bubbling underneath, while Self Transforming Experience (Second Movement) and Outlined Surfaces are more in line with sort of psy-chill Ultimae was interested in promoting going forward. It wouldn’t surprise me if ol’ Magnus felt compelled to fall lock-step with the blissy vibes of the psy scene rather than continue exploring harsh electronics.

The liner notes mention Reflective Frequencies was recorded in 1999, and does it ever sound like a ‘90s album, many sections fitting for a cyberpunk thriller or PC game. It’s an odd outlier in the Solar Fields and Ultimae canon, an example of both producer and label still discovering their latent talents in a cybernetic realm. How Gibsony of them.

Bandulu - Redemption

Music Man Records: 2002

Bandulu appeared to have gone quietly into the '90s night, their brand of tribal dub techno growing less relevant as bangin' Swedish sounds and German minimalism became the norm in the new millennium. No one would have thought less of them had Cornerstone and smatterings of vinyl singles been the final impression on their lasting legacy. They'd made an undeniable mark on techno and though their LP career didn't last a decade, it's more than can be said for most producers of that scene.

Then, out of the Bandulu blue, along comes a Redemption, a fresh album for the 2000s after nearly a half-decade of relative silence. Not only was it proper full-length release, but in fact came in two variations, depending on which format you preferred. It’s not unheard of bonus tracks appearing on CD copies or vinyl exclusives rewarding the black crack addicts, but to have a mere two cuts shared between them is nigh unheard of. Why give both versions the same album name if they lack much similarity between either? Would we have even more different track lists had Redemption come out at a different era? I could see that happening with a digital format (all the space!), but I kinda’ get a chuckle out of the concept of a ‘tape-only’ version too. It’d fit the group’s ‘techno for the graffiti-filled North London streets’ manifesto.

One of the tracks on both record and CD is Jahquarius, and oh my God, when I heard this as the opener, I feared the worst. That is, I didn’t quite know what to expect going into Redemption - whether Bandulu’s techno had evolved with the times at all, or they’d stick to their rugged guns – but offering up a rather standard reggae dub outing was not what I had in mind. It’s serviceable, I’ll grant it that, and likely would have done serious compilation duty for any ol’ Dub Selector type collection. Say, why didn’t it do so anyway? Was Music Man Records too far off the beaten dub path for the downtempo market to come a knockin’ for singles? They weren’t all Green Velvet and La La Land, you know.

Fortunately for me, Jahquarius and similar tune Detention are the only cuts off Redemption like that. The rest gets back to Bandulu’s toasty slices of unrelenting tribal techno. Their street grit never sounded better, tracks like Redemption (Dub), Smooth Step, and 44100 vintage mid-‘90s bangin’ Bandulu with all the dubby effects their followers appreciate. They also make room for a few Detroit leaning tunes (Vital Sense, Rank, Wetlook), plus a couple downtempo jams too (Bill’s Gate, Mooger, Chapter 6 kinda’). Man, it feels weird saying this is one of Bandulu’s most diverse albums, even though they didn’t stray too far from their traditional sound.

That said, Redemption isn’t a starting point should you still need to take a Bandulu plunge. Rather, it’s a tasty dessert to a satisfying meal of a career. Mmm, foodstuffs…

Bryan Adams - Reckless

A&M Records: 1984

Yeah, yeah, go on. Rib, mock, jest, and jeer all you want, I can take it. I'm puffin' my chest out at you though, getting all “Come at me, bro!” in your faces with this. Throw your best shots. Bryan Adams sucks, you say? More like rocks, says I! You claim he writes obvious rock-schlock and has a crap singing voice? I claim he writes perfectly enjoyable rock anthems, with a hoarse bellow befitting arenas. He's a has-been, way past his prime? Well, Reckless is his prime! Heaven is a wretched piece of sap, not only spawning countless rock-ballads from bands who should know better, but inspiring hideous euro-dance cover bilge decades later? Yeah, okay, you got me there.

And what the heck, I'll join ya'll; or rather, my pre-teen self will. See, Bryan Adams is the first musician I recall hating, specifically for that one ubiquitous song of 1991, (Everything I Do) I Do It For You. I couldn't escape the bloody thing. Pop radio, rock radio, MuchMusic, weddings, awkward school dances, Kevin Costner movies - no matter where I went, the ballad was there, and I loathed it. Of course, matters weren't helped that I was living in Vancouver at the time, every local media outlet thus promoting the ever loving shit out of their home-grown star export. Time passes though, and as I learned more of Mr. Adams' back-catalogue, I realized that the chap was responsible for some of my favourite rock hits of the '80s too, many of which came from this here album.

He and song-writing partner Jim Vallance had already developed a respectable reputation within the industry with Adams’ third album Cuts Like A Knife. Reckless finds the duo in full stride, spoiling the listener with the ear-wormiest rock to ever grace radio land. Run To You, Summer Of ‘69, Somebody, Kids Wanna Rock, the Tina Turner featuring It’s Only Love, and, *sigh*, Heaven, are all on here. Hell, they make up the whole middle portion of Reckless. That’s six classic staples of ‘80s rock, all in a row, mang! What a ridiculous run of music there, the likes of which few musicians ever accomplish in their career, much less in the span of a single LP. Rounding things out are agreeable rockers like One Night Love Affair, She’s Only Happy When She’s Dancin’, a honky-tonk offering with Long Gone, and an arena loud, uptempo finale in Ain’t Gonna Cry, ending full-stop and leaving the listener hungry for more. International stardom certified from there on out.

I can’t deny Reckless is super-slick and studio polished – it doesn’t ‘rawk’. Compared to many other rock efforts of the era though, it at least has more fire and heart than most. Obviously punk and metal heads weren’t going to give Adams much love (erm, aside surprisingly placing forty-ninth in a 100 Greatest Heavy Metal Albums 1989 article from UK metal magazine Kerrang!), but for everyone else, this is a fun LP, and Adams’ best overall effort.

ACE TRACKS: February 2015

Oh man, did I just wake up from the most epic of naps after work. You go down, thinking “One hour should suffice.” Then you wake up three or four hours later, and realize your evening is shot, so you shuffle over and sleep a little longer. Then it’s midnight, and you realize you have to work at six in the morning, so you shuffle over and sleep a little longer. Then you wake up at two in the morning, and you realize you can sleep a little longer, so you shuffle over and sleep a little longer. Then your alarm goes off, and you realize you’ve slept for EVER, and you shuffle over and OH WAIT, I GOTTA’ GET THIS PLAYLIST UPLOADED THIS MORNING! Here we go then, ACE TRACKS of February 2015.


Full track list here.

MISSING ALBUMS:
Various - Radikal Techno
Various - Radikal Techno: Too Radikal

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 0%
Percentage Of Rock: 12%
Most “WTF?” Track: Neil Young & Crazy Horse - T-Bone (how is this song still going!?)

I should mention that, technically Rave-Trance 2001 isn’t on Spotify, but one of the CDs it was ripped from, This Is Dream Trance Anthems Vol. 2, is available. So if you want to know how that one sounds like, yay for you! But yeah, no surprise those old Quality compilations aren’t about, and of course I’d go and give ACE TRACK status to hard-to-find remixes.

Multi-disc compilations and general distractions didn’t leave me as much time for music listening and reviewing this past February, giving us a shorter Playlist than usual. There’s some Ultimae (and Altar!), there’s some trance, there’s some downtempo-dub, and there’s a couple outlier oddities. A few new musics, a few old musics, and a lot of in between. Nothing too off the beaten path where my general tastes are concerned, then.

Ace Ventura - Rebirth (Original TC Review)

Iboga Records: 2007

(2015 Update:
First, shame on you, 2008 Sykonee, for falling lock-step with every other reviewer in making that movie reference. Not that many even did review it outside the dedicated psy brigade, but you could have shown some ingenuity there, some iconoclastic behavior. Regarding Mr. Oshrat's debut album, it turned out to be his only full-length, follow-ups little more than a number of collaborative digital singles and a 2CD remix package of Rebirth (!). Wait, there was that much extra music made from this drab LP? I need me a couple more exclamation marks (!!).

This review's surprisingly prescient regarding the way Iboga's brand of prog psy turned out, growing ever more minimalist, dull, and stale in the following years. I'm not sure whether this was a mandated change of direction by Perfect Stranger, or Ace Ventura's minor success within the scene generated lackluster copycats, but it sure didn't do the scene any favors long term. That said, the tracks off the back end of this album (The Light, M.A.R.S., and Exposed) do hold up, which is more than can be said for much of Iboga's output later on.)


IN BRIEF: In the prog rut.

Progressive psy had a pretty clever premise going for it when the sound first caught on a few years back. Take the atmospheric and structural aesthetics of prog house, do away with the genre’s tendency to agonizingly build a track subtly, and instead spice the process up with psy trance’s quirky attributes. It could have taken the prog world by storm, but instead the elder statesmen (re: Digweed and co.) decided to explore what the Germans were up to while the new cats (re: Schulz and co.) figured the wiser course of action would be to pop prog up. Maybe it’s been for the best. Given the massive web of sub-genres within dance music, not every new twist should be propelled into the spotlight. In fact, some do quite well remaining obscured in the underground, discovered by those who wish to dig beneath the surface. Away from mainstream influences, it can sometimes be like finding musical gold (although to be fair, there’s often hefty quantities of iron pyrite lurking about too). On the other hand, outside influences do help to spur on innovation within a scene. Without it, the music can become rather insular and stagnant, and if Ace Ventura’s debut full-length is anything to go by, this may be occurring within the realms of prog psy.

Oh, who is Ace Ventura? Not to be confused with the Jim Carey movie (and I won’t bring it up again, so worry not about lame quotes from the Pet Detective), the man behind this project is Yoni Oshrat, whom some may remember as a member of Psysex earlier in the decade. Growing tired of the full-on sound, he left the group and, under the tutelage of Yuli Fersthat (aka: Perfect Stranger, and one of the driving forces behind Iboga Records), began exploring what the realm of prog psy had to offer. After some promising early singles, Yoni finally tucked away in the studio and has emerged with Rebirth, and album that, well, comes off small in scope.

The trouble here, my friends, is most of these tracks don’t reach far. As with many prog producers, Yoni seems more concerned with minute sonic details rather than musical craft. He cooks up a decent groove in the early goings and builds his tracks with a good simmer, but anytime things are ready to boil, he turns the heat off. If this doesn’t make sense, let’s go with a literal explanation.

I could pick out nearly any of these tracks, but for the sake of argument, Presence gets the nod, as it’s the worst offender. It starts out much the same as the rest, with a solid punchy beat and enveloping, throbbing bassline to complement it. With layering percussion and various pulsing effects, tension is adequately built for a couple minutes, until it caps off at... A reset. Yes, folks, Yoni found the best way to utilize all that time was to act as though it never really mattered, and start Presence’s tension from ground zero again. This time though, we are treated to some sparse melody and synth washes, which is quite nice. It seems this might lead to something rather interesting, but alas, it is not to be. In fact, it isn’t to be anything, as Presence unceremoniously ends with a whimper, as though Yoni couldn’t be bothered to make something of the base ingredients he used (er... what IS it with all these cooking analogies today anyway?).

Sao Paulo, Exposed, and Serenity are guilty of this too, although do contain better sounds at their disposal. Elsewhere, M.A.R.S. doesn’t know what kind of song it wants to be, giving us three different ideas (pumping rhythms; moody riffs; tweaky acid) that have little to do with each other (and this one ends even more abruptly than Presence).

These gripes said, Rebirth is hardly the write-off I’m probably making it out to be. If anything, each of these would make for fine set pieces in a DJ mix. Plus, even though the mood throughout is rather singular, the brooding, spacey tone it does maintain is handled well; tracks like Psychic Experience and Stimulator are quite good in this context, although they being collaborations, perhaps the extra input all the more helped Yoni’s efforts.

Actually, I’m positive of it, as his pairing up with Lish for the song The Light brings us Rebirth’s clear highlight. Raising it far and above the rest is a higher dependency on melody to carry the song, something that’s usually only subtly hinted at on the album’s other tracks. As lovely as it is though, what launches The Light even above typical prog psy pastures is the altering of the rhythms in the second half, such that they skip and gallop along rather than drive ahead like so much else. Overall, it’s a wonderful effort.

However, one great track cannot rescue an album being the middling affair it is. Yoni’s prog trappings are simply too rote for the most part, and while undoubtedly great in a dancefloor context, it makes for a barely passable listening experience at home. It’s prog psy going through the motions, and in a sub-genre of music as young as this one, that’s inexcusable.

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

2 Unlimited - Real Things

Quality Music: 1994

If I'm not mistaken, this review of 2 Unlimited's third album marks a minor milestone on this blog: the first completion of an artist's discography. Okay, there are certain conditions for this achievement, like said act in question must have more than two album's released, and I have to actually own them all within my collection. Despite buying quite a few CDs over the years (four digits, creepin’ closer!), there aren’t many artists I’ve gathered full discographies of. Sometimes it’s due to an obscenely huge output (oh hi, Neil Young), other times it’s from scarcity of hard copies (boo limited runs), or perhaps an act enters a period of meh-to-suck in later years, making purchases pointless (sorry, ‘electronica’ darlings). Oh, and I refuse to acknowledge the existence of Wilde and de Coster's reboot attempt with two different singers – 2 Unlimited will forever be the original foursome, accept no alternatives!

Not only does Real Things complete my coverage of the former euro-dance juggernaut, it was also the final album they released, third in as many years. When you consider today’s dance-pop icons barely manage one LP in the same amount of time, I find that impressive. Fine, the rules of the game have considerably changed since two decades hence, artists capable of sustaining careers on singles alone. If we’re playing that game though, 2 Unlimited were utterly dominate in that area too, Real Things alone spawning off three top-Tens, plus a surprising fourth single in the ballad Nothing Like The Rain. That one’s not as good as the ballads off No Limits! and oh my God I’m championing euro dance ballads over others. Does my 2 Unlimited bias have no shame?

Probably not, though as always, a full-length outing from this group has its ups and downs. Compared to the prior two albums, Real Things is incredibly slick and polished, all hints of Belgian rave roots completely varnished away. Instead, they’ve adopted the sounds of Germany and Italy, though did so in their own way. Even at the height of euro-dance’s glut, you couldn’t mistake a 2 Unlimited cut for any other, Ray and Anita among the most distinctive rap-and-singer combos that scene ever produced. No wonder everyone tried copying their formula, and smaller wonder still they felt compelled to call out all the style-biters on lead single The Real Thing. Then again, who are they to do so when the track is centred on a Bach riff. Oh Turbo B ain’t gonna’ like that, nosiree.

The rest of the album flits between songs about love (Burning With Desire, Sensuality, Face To Face), dancing (Hypnotised, Escape In Music, Tuning Into Something Wild), but never about the love of dancing, oddly. There’s also an ode to a then-emergent cyberspace (Info Superhighway), and a couple ‘stand tall and proud’ type of tunes in Here I Go, Do What I Like, and What’s Mine Is Mine. Unsurprisingly, they’re the best tunes on Real Things. It’s as though being original is a good thing!

Sounds From The Ground - Ready, Steady, Slow

Upstream Records: 2012

It’s been a year since I last discussed Sounds From The Ground. It doesn’t feel that long ago when I splurged on the near-entirety of their discography, dragging all ya’ll along in my musical crash course of an overlooked duo. That’s what makes all this so much fun, eh? Me finding new artists and labels, somehow having the funds to buy all their records, consuming the music and digesting the feels it generates, regurgitate them into words zapped into your retinas. Um wait, the process doesn’t sound appealing when described like that, does it? Damn this English language and all its appealing metaphorical abuses.

I only covered about two-thirds of Jones and Woolfson’s output in that earlier outing though, the rest waiting patiently in the bottom end of the alphabet before getting reviews on this blog. The gap’s hopefully given any curious readers of the duo’s music a chance to hear some of their tunes for themselves, gauging whether Sounds From The Ground are worth more of their precious listening hours or not. I bring this all up because, if ever there was a ‘fans-only’ album in the act’s extensive catalog, Ready, Steady, Slow is that CD.

Jones and Woolfson have long dabbled in various forms of downtempo and chill, but typically as one-offs on their full-lengths, ambient dub remaining their breaded butter. Fifteen years into a career had to have them anxious to try something different, and after resuscitating their seldom used Upstream Records in the late ‘00s, could finally indulge themselves a little. For their first ‘experimental’ album, we are given a pure ambient LP. As someone who’s enjoyed many a beatless moment from prior Sounds O’ Ground full-lengths, this was an intriguing effort, and Ready, Steady, Slow doesn’t disappoint, offering a nice variety of examples from the genre .

There’s droning synth pieces like First Light and Departures, calming meditative compositions like Watershell, Mice Skating, and The Long Curve, rapturous layered builds like The Turning Wheel and Mapping Points In Time, and pure cosmic bliss like Chrome Horizon. Oh, and a bit of room for field recording doodles (Interchange) and …folksy acoustic prog-rock (Long Lane)? What is this, the ‘70s? I guess so; or at least Jones and Woolfson have no qualms in letting the influence of early ambient maestros drive their music making here. Must I namedrop all the obvious names again? You know them all by now – Hell, I’ve reviewed a number of them already. Besides, it sells Ready, Steady, Slow short if I do so, because the honest truth is “Sounds From The Ground All Ambient Album” is a tough sell regardless. Matters aren’t helped in referring to Very Important Older Musics.

Ready, Steady, Slow is a lovely little ambient album, but as is often the case with lovely little ambient albums, not essential listening. Nor is it anywhere near an entry point into Sounds From The Ground, hardly representative of their music. As I said, a ‘fans only’ option.

Neil Young & Crazy Horse - re-ac-tor

Reprise Records: 1981/2003

Just how sloppy and loose can a band go before it turns unacceptable? For that authentic scrappy, bar-blues rock played out of downtown dive garage feeling (or something), folks often gives a little on the technical side. Where Mr. Young and his band-of-brothers Crazy Horse are concerned, listeners wouldn’t have it any other way, their freewheeling approach to music making part and partial of their charm. It’s given them the leeway to go into albums with barely any prep and only the most tenuous of themes: Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere is about capturing fresh band synergy at its source of inspiration; Ragged Glory is about re-capturing that same spark long after it should have expired; Psychedelic Pill is about re-re-capturing that spark even as grandpas.

Those are just the albums I’ve thus far reviewed though (wow, what a weird thematic coincidence), and the group’s done other material with a different focus. In the case of re-ac-tor, Neil had to fulfill his album obligation to Reprise Records before getting a sweet deal from Geffen, and slapped out a sloppy collection of Crazy Horse jams to do so. Okay, that’s not entirely accurate, but given the utter lack of finesse in many of these songs, it makes for a juicy bit of suppositional gossip taking that stance.

The truth is a little more nuanced, Neil’s personal life growing incredibly stressful and in need of some changes. That he’d miss some creative fire or not have time for proper rehearsals with Crazy Horse is understandable in that context, but one must ask why force an album if he’s not quite feeling it? Songs like Get Back On It, Motor City, and Rapid Transit are some of the goofiest, simplest examples of southern rock I’ve ever heard, while T-Bone is nothing more a drunken three-chord jam that lasts nine minutes! Still, if you’re a fan of Young and Horse, it’s an awesome drunken three-chord jam session, but you’d hardly want to show it off to others as the group at their best.

And hey, Young always finds ways of crafting catchy, compelling music even on his off years. Southern Pacific is a charming ode to the once-mighty rail industry, with a suitably chugging rhythm and, dare I say, picturesque lyrics (plus was packaged as a bizarre triangular gatefold 7” single). Shots is also vivid, though with such ugly and messy manner with blown chords, out-of-sync rhythm, and nasty distortion, the sloppy production of re-ac-tor actually makes sense in this case. Finally, Opera Star and Surfer Joe And Moe The Sleaze are fun little bar rock tunes, probably also performed while intoxicated.

That’s about the strongest endorsement for this album I can give: best enjoyed drunk. Neil And His Wacky Horses have stronger LPs in their discography, some dynamic, others somber - this one’s about as half-assed as you’ll ever hear the group, but perhaps one of the funnest too. Screw you, SpellCheck, I cans sloopy grammar alls I wants to for re-ac-tor.

Various - Rave-Trance 2001

Electronic Dance Essentials: 2001

On the surface, Rave-Trance 2001 is the chintziest pieces of bargain-bin detritus you'll ever come across. I certainly thought so, and prepared for a good guffaw upon flipping it over to see what names made up the track list. I wasn't disappointed, such hilarious credits including DJ Ibiza, DJ Airbourne, DJ Pebbles, DJ Glamer, and Bypass Unit. Wait, Bypass Unit? Those guys were awesome, a dope blend of German trance and early goa. What are they doing on this? For that matter, might the other tracks be just as good?

Not really, most of the tunes sounding quite dated by post-millennial standards. The mixing's barely adequate, occasional vocals corny as all Hell, and CD1 features an awful, flat mono mastering, utterly shameful for the modern era. Still, it's mid-'90s German trance, with plenty of spacey acid, driving rhythms, and delicious minor-key melodies throughout, thus giving me the wayback feels no matter how dodgy the packaging. It was something of a revelation even finding such a CD in 2001, figuring all the sounds that drew me into trance had been kicked to the curb in favour grotesque Dutch excess. But music aside, Rave-Trance 2001 is rather fascinating in its own right.

For instance, Electronic Dance Essentials is a sub-label of Big Eye Records, whom in turn is a sub-label of Cleopatra. Suddenly the cheap presentation made a lot more sense, but this story gets even better. While submitting Rave-Trance 2001 to the mighty Lord Discogs (because of course I'd be the only contributor with a copy), I discovered an identical tracklist on an obscure 1999 ZYX Music double-disc set called The World Of Dream & Trance. So not only did a sub-sub label of Cleopatra release a cheap-looking collection of trance with music far better than expected, but did so by 'copy & pasting' another unremarkable release from a label that has – as far as I know – absolutely no association with Cleopatra, for no reason other than 'just because'.

But wait, this story gets even better! The World Of Dream & Trance may not have much going for it, but regarding its origins... hoo boy! The World Of... is a long-running series of double-disc collections from ZYX Music featuring such eclectic gatherings as rock, soul, reggae, house, salsa, techno, italo, rap, schlager, Russische folklore, surf music, krautrock, Indian pop, jodeln, truckers, and telefonansagen. What. The. F!? There's even a release for phone sex conversations. Who buys this stuff?

All this delightful associative info, but possibly the most interesting comes from an anecdote. While moving from one Canadian hinterland to another, I stopped over at a town where a couple friends lived for a rave happening that night. At the pre-party house, I rummaged through the host’s CDs as I’m wont to do, and saw a familiar blue sleeve with tacky clip-art and unrelated Time Magazine quote on the back. “Oh, wow,” I say to owner, “You have this too?” “Yeah,” she replied, “It’s a great CD, isn’t it!” It sure is.