Gee Street: 1998
Within the intro of RZA's debut solo album, he makes a snarky comment about other hip-hop producers still relying on breaks samples for their beats. It's the new era after all, on the cusp of a fresh millennium - digital dominance was nigh. So, instead of relying on more funk and soul loops that defined his early production, Mr. Diggs set out to create a digital orchestra with around a dozen synths at his disposal. Laudable goals, daring even, but here's another theory: he lost a ton of sample-based beats in that studio flood of his, thus forced to redo everything from scratch. Okay, 'forced' is harsh – 'inspired' into a change of direction sound better?
As for the concept of Bobby Digital: In Stereo, the notion RZA would have another pseudonym to play with isn't surprising. By this point he'd already been Prince Rakeem (aborted pre-Wu solo career), RZArector (Gravediggaz), and Bobby Steels (mafioso alias for Raekwon's Only Built For Cuban Linx...), so here’s Bobby Digital, something of a super-id identity reflective of his irresponsible days as a youth. Taking cues from blaxploitation flicks and superhero comics, Bobby is the ultimate male power fantasy, getting into all sorts of street shenanigans without any consequence for his actions. And oh yes, you bet he’s smooth with the ladies, casually fucking his queens while tossing them bitches to the curb.
If this all sounds just a bit on the sleazy, irredeemable side of things, that’s kind of the point. Even though, as Bobby Digital, it seems like RZA’s glamorizing this lifestyle, I get the sense he’s actually criticizing the narrow world view the alias operates from. He brags about being incredibly suave with women, yet his come-ons are blunt, immature, and pornographic. He boasts of his carefree ways in the slums, but surely there must be more in life than what he sees around the projects. Bobby Digital believes he has everything figured out, a king in his domain, when the truth of the matter is he knows shit. It paints him as a tragic figure that he cannot see the light. No surprise the relatively smooth My Lovin’ Is Digi is followed by the harrowing, wretched Domestic Violence (which also serves as the end of the album-concept proper, yikes!).
Truthfully, I’m far more interested in RZA’s beats than the lyrical content. Mr. Diggs’ rhymes have always been a little forced, worming complex vocabulary into phrases where they struggle to fit, and that’s no different here, even with an alias that isn’t so deep on the philosophical metaphors. That don’t matter though, as the music he’s created here is fascinating, abstract melancholic keyboards and weird discordant rhythms, all the while retaining his distinct grimy funk and soul. I could have done with a couple less of the Slow Grind intermissions though.
Bobby Digitial: In Stereo most definitely isn’t for casual fans of Wu-Tang Clan. If you’re down for RZA at his most unhinged though, give this album a shot.
Monday, May 4, 2015
Sunday, May 3, 2015
Neil Young & Crazy Horse - Rust Never Sleeps
Reprise Records: 1979/1990
The only Neil Young Comeback Album you're supposed to have, even if you're not a fan of Neil Young Comeback Albums. Yes, he's had enough of them to count as their own, distinct branch in the massive tree that is Rusty's discography. They're not so definitive as before, his career lately seeing more ebb and flow rather than peaks and valleys of decades pasts. For a brief while there in the '70s though, it looked as though Young would never recapture the creative spark that marked his early material.
Not that he was in a serious slump leading up to this album – certainly nothing that could rival the true dark times of the mid-‘80s. Unfortunately, following his critically lauded “Ditch Trilogy”, Young was in danger of succumbing to a terrible thing for any popular musician: irrelevancy. His album output had turned sketchy, failing to grab fresh audiences as new trends took hold of public discourse in the late ‘70s. Thus, like most rockers of the ‘60s, he was left with only two options. One: double-down on the music that earned him his dedicated following, and retain his loyal fans but risk creative stagnation. Two: attempt a bandwagon jump, keeping one’s name with the pace of cultural movements, but almost certainly make an ass of yourself in the process; a desperate bid at remaining relevant. Naturally, Neil F’n Young chose option number Three: cater to the faithful, and successfully tap into a new rock zeitgeist.
The inspiration came with a concept tour, one that would encompass two performances on stage. The first half would be primarily a solo outing of him playing acoustic folk material (with a duet thrown in here and there), then Crazy Horse would join him for some rock ‘n’ roll ruckus. He’d play some old standards, but mostly new material (from which this album’s track list was culled). The stage itself had giant-sized props of gear, handled by roadies dressed in Jawa costumes, and encourage audience interaction by donning faux 3D glasses, witnessing the band “decay before their very eyes”. It was the most theatrical set of concerts Young had ever put on, in some small part inspired by his wacky chums over at the Devo camp. In truth, they came up with the phrase “rust never sleeps” for a cleaner solution advertisement. Figures Young would take it as representing the dangers of artistic decay.
The folk numbers become some of Rustie’s enduring classics, a critical look back on his musical compatriots in Thrashers, and more stands for Native American tragedies in Pocahontas and Ride My Llama. Where he truly made a mark though, was Hey Hey, My My, a thunderous blast of distortion and noise that put his generation of rockers on notice: punk music was the real deal, a force that could not be ignored. Time to adapt, or unceremoniously fade as the old King Of Rock, Elvis Presley, had so recently. Some serious shots fired there, and pay attention the rock world did.
The only Neil Young Comeback Album you're supposed to have, even if you're not a fan of Neil Young Comeback Albums. Yes, he's had enough of them to count as their own, distinct branch in the massive tree that is Rusty's discography. They're not so definitive as before, his career lately seeing more ebb and flow rather than peaks and valleys of decades pasts. For a brief while there in the '70s though, it looked as though Young would never recapture the creative spark that marked his early material.
Not that he was in a serious slump leading up to this album – certainly nothing that could rival the true dark times of the mid-‘80s. Unfortunately, following his critically lauded “Ditch Trilogy”, Young was in danger of succumbing to a terrible thing for any popular musician: irrelevancy. His album output had turned sketchy, failing to grab fresh audiences as new trends took hold of public discourse in the late ‘70s. Thus, like most rockers of the ‘60s, he was left with only two options. One: double-down on the music that earned him his dedicated following, and retain his loyal fans but risk creative stagnation. Two: attempt a bandwagon jump, keeping one’s name with the pace of cultural movements, but almost certainly make an ass of yourself in the process; a desperate bid at remaining relevant. Naturally, Neil F’n Young chose option number Three: cater to the faithful, and successfully tap into a new rock zeitgeist.
The inspiration came with a concept tour, one that would encompass two performances on stage. The first half would be primarily a solo outing of him playing acoustic folk material (with a duet thrown in here and there), then Crazy Horse would join him for some rock ‘n’ roll ruckus. He’d play some old standards, but mostly new material (from which this album’s track list was culled). The stage itself had giant-sized props of gear, handled by roadies dressed in Jawa costumes, and encourage audience interaction by donning faux 3D glasses, witnessing the band “decay before their very eyes”. It was the most theatrical set of concerts Young had ever put on, in some small part inspired by his wacky chums over at the Devo camp. In truth, they came up with the phrase “rust never sleeps” for a cleaner solution advertisement. Figures Young would take it as representing the dangers of artistic decay.
The folk numbers become some of Rustie’s enduring classics, a critical look back on his musical compatriots in Thrashers, and more stands for Native American tragedies in Pocahontas and Ride My Llama. Where he truly made a mark though, was Hey Hey, My My, a thunderous blast of distortion and noise that put his generation of rockers on notice: punk music was the real deal, a force that could not be ignored. Time to adapt, or unceremoniously fade as the old King Of Rock, Elvis Presley, had so recently. Some serious shots fired there, and pay attention the rock world did.
Saturday, May 2, 2015
The Beatles - Rubber Soul
Capitol Records: 1965/2009
The only Beatles album you're supposed to have, even if you're not much of a Beatles fan. Because let's be honest: who really likes all the studio experimenting they did after Rubber Soul? There were plenty of good songs, but so much of it fell victim to weirdness like tape manipulations, overdubbing, orchestras, and Indian tonal scales. Whatever happened to the good ol' rock 'n' roll that made the lads from Liverpool super-huge megastars? Yeah, it's here and there, but almost in lip-service rather than their defining musical style. No, best stay away from latter-era Beatles, where they even let Ringo write songs.
That isn't to say Rubber Soul doesn't have its share of new ideas either. If anything, this album marked a major step away from the happy do-lucky mop top rock that created all sorts of screaming girl havoc. They’d just completed a second North American tour, and in that time had taken in plenty of local flavours that were gaining popularity in the USA alongside their own music. This included the impeccable vocal harmonization of The Beach Boys and authentic Motown soul, but most importantly the folk rock styling of Bob Dylan and The Byrds.
In the case of Dylan, their lyrics took a big step for Beatlekind, distancing themselves from easy couplets and simple phrases screaming girls could sing along to when they weren’t screaming for Paul or John or that emo George. Now their songs contained mature content for an aging audience and lovely imagery. Okay, it’s almost all still dealing with love and relationships, but there’s plenty of wiggle-room for exploration in these topics too, areas their early teeny-bop tunes couldn’t deal with. Like such intimacy with Norwegian Wood, or a melancholic Christian parable in Girl, or times long past in In My Life, or the nasty post-breakup threats of Run For Your Life. Whoa, where’d that come from? Meanwhile, the dour Harrison had about enough of love songs by that point, and wrote Think For Yourself, something of a governmental screed. He also co-wrote the reflective Nowhere Man, though that was mostly John’s song, apparently inspired by a bought of writer’s block. Damn marijuana.
Speaking of Harrison and drugs, another thing he learned from David Crosby of The Byrds was a kooky string instrument called a sitar. He learned to play the darned thing and even incorporated it into Norwegian Wood, though in keeping to a Western scale, it don’t sound as ethnic as his later uses of it – a perfect bit of spice to the tune’s charming folksiness. A few more new additions to The Beatles’ repertoire was fuzz box for McCartney in Think For Yourself, French lyrics in Michelle, and a sped-up piano intended to mimic a harpsichord for In My Life.
The biggest contribution Rubber Soul provided the rock world, however, was the notion an album could have end-to-end great songs rather than consisting of filler servicing the singles. Yep, the entire pseudo-genre of Album Orientated Rock was birthed here!
The only Beatles album you're supposed to have, even if you're not much of a Beatles fan. Because let's be honest: who really likes all the studio experimenting they did after Rubber Soul? There were plenty of good songs, but so much of it fell victim to weirdness like tape manipulations, overdubbing, orchestras, and Indian tonal scales. Whatever happened to the good ol' rock 'n' roll that made the lads from Liverpool super-huge megastars? Yeah, it's here and there, but almost in lip-service rather than their defining musical style. No, best stay away from latter-era Beatles, where they even let Ringo write songs.
That isn't to say Rubber Soul doesn't have its share of new ideas either. If anything, this album marked a major step away from the happy do-lucky mop top rock that created all sorts of screaming girl havoc. They’d just completed a second North American tour, and in that time had taken in plenty of local flavours that were gaining popularity in the USA alongside their own music. This included the impeccable vocal harmonization of The Beach Boys and authentic Motown soul, but most importantly the folk rock styling of Bob Dylan and The Byrds.
In the case of Dylan, their lyrics took a big step for Beatlekind, distancing themselves from easy couplets and simple phrases screaming girls could sing along to when they weren’t screaming for Paul or John or that emo George. Now their songs contained mature content for an aging audience and lovely imagery. Okay, it’s almost all still dealing with love and relationships, but there’s plenty of wiggle-room for exploration in these topics too, areas their early teeny-bop tunes couldn’t deal with. Like such intimacy with Norwegian Wood, or a melancholic Christian parable in Girl, or times long past in In My Life, or the nasty post-breakup threats of Run For Your Life. Whoa, where’d that come from? Meanwhile, the dour Harrison had about enough of love songs by that point, and wrote Think For Yourself, something of a governmental screed. He also co-wrote the reflective Nowhere Man, though that was mostly John’s song, apparently inspired by a bought of writer’s block. Damn marijuana.
Speaking of Harrison and drugs, another thing he learned from David Crosby of The Byrds was a kooky string instrument called a sitar. He learned to play the darned thing and even incorporated it into Norwegian Wood, though in keeping to a Western scale, it don’t sound as ethnic as his later uses of it – a perfect bit of spice to the tune’s charming folksiness. A few more new additions to The Beatles’ repertoire was fuzz box for McCartney in Think For Yourself, French lyrics in Michelle, and a sped-up piano intended to mimic a harpsichord for In My Life.
The biggest contribution Rubber Soul provided the rock world, however, was the notion an album could have end-to-end great songs rather than consisting of filler servicing the singles. Yep, the entire pseudo-genre of Album Orientated Rock was birthed here!
Friday, May 1, 2015
Various - RU Receiving
Mercury: 1997
I’m sure in the lands of the Old World, where electronic music wasn’t so mocked, they had all sorts of shows dedicated to ‘rave videos’. Out here in the New World, however, our options were scant, few, and almost entirely centered on club hits of the day. That wasn’t so bad in the early ‘90s when euro-dance had a little market penetration, but once R&B took over, good ol’ house and techno was practically jettisoned from music channel rotation. Save the occasional undeniable chart climber from Fatboy Slim, Daft Punk, or, erm, Aqua, electronic music videos all but disappeared from North American TVs. Hey, at least it’s not as bad as today, where all music videos have disappeared. (hey-o!)
Still, even in those lean years of the mid-to-late ‘90s, one could find obscure shows in the wee hours dedicated to showcasing outlier acts of a broad culture. After all, the UK never stopped making music videos for their eager audiences, so why not offer up a 2am slot airing them. Gives a handy excuse to replay that Trainspotting hit or a semi-popular ‘electronica’ jam again, plus throw in a few homegrown acts like Moby and Richie Hawtin for good measure. On MTV, their show was called Amp, while in Canada, our own MuchMusic dubbed the hour RU Receiving, and holy cow was this ever the bomb late at night! Weird, esoteric music only underground ravers had much clue about, finally given visual representation, with videos equally weird and esoteric. With so few star frontmen to market around, most electronic music videos back in the day were artsy and abstract efforts, only adding to the American rave scene’s alt-culture allure.
Naturally a CD compilation hit the shelves promoting this fledgling show. As a 1997 ‘electronica’ collection, it features familiar acts, a few obscure tracks, and a couple “fucking why?” cuts. Okay, U2’s Mofo isn’t that surprising considering this was the year they got in on that hip, new big-beat sound the UK was all abuzz over. And honestly, with Steve Osborne (Grace, Virus, Paul Oakenfold) and Howie B behind the decks on this one, this is one of the best tunes that emerged from U2’s Pop experiment. The other “fucking why?” track is Orbital’s The Saint, because fuck you.
Pretty much all the very important acts and their biggest hits of 1997 are represented on this CD, including Roni Size/Reprazent’s Share The Fall. There’s Prodigy’s Firestarter, The Orb’s Toxygene, Goldie’s Inner City Life, and The Chemical Brothers’ Loops Of Fury. Wait, that last one’s unexpected, but I’m not complaining, far preferring their earlier thrashy acid breaks to the Dig Your Own Hole era. Also, as trip-hop was super hot too, we get Portisehead’s smoky Strangers, DJ Shadow’s blissed-out Midnight In A Perfect World, and Howie B’s crunchy acid-funk Butt Meat.
For me though, the one track that defines the whole RU Receiving legacy is Synaptic Response from Canadian duo Legion Of Green Men. Gander at the video, and understand.
I’m sure in the lands of the Old World, where electronic music wasn’t so mocked, they had all sorts of shows dedicated to ‘rave videos’. Out here in the New World, however, our options were scant, few, and almost entirely centered on club hits of the day. That wasn’t so bad in the early ‘90s when euro-dance had a little market penetration, but once R&B took over, good ol’ house and techno was practically jettisoned from music channel rotation. Save the occasional undeniable chart climber from Fatboy Slim, Daft Punk, or, erm, Aqua, electronic music videos all but disappeared from North American TVs. Hey, at least it’s not as bad as today, where all music videos have disappeared. (hey-o!)
Still, even in those lean years of the mid-to-late ‘90s, one could find obscure shows in the wee hours dedicated to showcasing outlier acts of a broad culture. After all, the UK never stopped making music videos for their eager audiences, so why not offer up a 2am slot airing them. Gives a handy excuse to replay that Trainspotting hit or a semi-popular ‘electronica’ jam again, plus throw in a few homegrown acts like Moby and Richie Hawtin for good measure. On MTV, their show was called Amp, while in Canada, our own MuchMusic dubbed the hour RU Receiving, and holy cow was this ever the bomb late at night! Weird, esoteric music only underground ravers had much clue about, finally given visual representation, with videos equally weird and esoteric. With so few star frontmen to market around, most electronic music videos back in the day were artsy and abstract efforts, only adding to the American rave scene’s alt-culture allure.
Naturally a CD compilation hit the shelves promoting this fledgling show. As a 1997 ‘electronica’ collection, it features familiar acts, a few obscure tracks, and a couple “fucking why?” cuts. Okay, U2’s Mofo isn’t that surprising considering this was the year they got in on that hip, new big-beat sound the UK was all abuzz over. And honestly, with Steve Osborne (Grace, Virus, Paul Oakenfold) and Howie B behind the decks on this one, this is one of the best tunes that emerged from U2’s Pop experiment. The other “fucking why?” track is Orbital’s The Saint, because fuck you.
Pretty much all the very important acts and their biggest hits of 1997 are represented on this CD, including Roni Size/Reprazent’s Share The Fall. There’s Prodigy’s Firestarter, The Orb’s Toxygene, Goldie’s Inner City Life, and The Chemical Brothers’ Loops Of Fury. Wait, that last one’s unexpected, but I’m not complaining, far preferring their earlier thrashy acid breaks to the Dig Your Own Hole era. Also, as trip-hop was super hot too, we get Portisehead’s smoky Strangers, DJ Shadow’s blissed-out Midnight In A Perfect World, and Howie B’s crunchy acid-funk Butt Meat.
For me though, the one track that defines the whole RU Receiving legacy is Synaptic Response from Canadian duo Legion Of Green Men. Gander at the video, and understand.
Thursday, April 30, 2015
µ-Ziq - Royal Astronomy
Virgin: 1999
When µ-Ziq signed with Virgin, part of his deal included the creation of Planet Mu as an offshoot. Mr. Paradinas' label has gone on to some critical fame in the years since, but at the time Virgin was struggling in its promotion of IDM, unable to properly capitalize on the buzz Aphex Twin's videos had generated; or so the story goes. Not sure if it was that awful, what with plenty of magazine ad spots for Lunatic Harness and Royal Astronomy. Still, it's understandable that Virgin and Paradinas would decide parting ways was best for both, frenetic braindance chamber music most definitely not the sort of music easily marketed alongside The Chemical Brothers and Fatboy Slim. Thus, in 1998, the µ-Ziq brand found a permanent, exclusive home on Planet Mu, where Paradinas' albums have been released ever since.
Wait a second, Royal Astronomy came out in 1999, after Planet Mu went proper independent, yet was still released by Virgin. And, unlike Lunatic Harness, this album didn't get a Planet Mu edition, instead being published by Virgin sub-label Hut Recordings, who also released albums from acts like Smashing Pumpkins, Placebo, The Verve, and Gomez (wait, who?). What gives the dealy-o?
Since I'm not a journalist and unwilling to do much research beyond cursory digging, here’s some speculation instead: Paradinas had an album commitment to Virgin, releasing a set number of LPs within such-and-such time span. He got out of that contract when he gained the independent rights to Planet Mu, but had to still provide Virgin with at least one more album's worth of material as part of the bargain. Hence, Royal Astronomy, an album with Virgin's marketing clout behind it, and music with almost no interest on Paradinas' part. Am I right? Do I get the no-prize? Just this CD? Awww.
I can't outright call Royal Astronomy bad, as µ-Ziq has enough talent that even slapdash moments have something interesting going on. There's even a kernel of an album concept lurking in here, where Paradinas indulges is classical leaning compositions as though they were intended for Romantic Era performances (Scaling, Gruber’s Mandolin, Scrape) but sometimes given a thumping, funky twist for the modern era (The Hwicci Song, The Fear, Slice, World Of Leather). It'd be a fun exploration if he'd gone the album's length with it, but unfortunately is hardly touched upon after a promising first few tunes.
The rest either goes the acid IDM fun-funk route (Autumn Acid, Carpet Muncher), quirky pleasantness (56, Goodbye, Goodbye), and standard d’n’b rinse-outs (The Motorbike Track, Bust Your Arm). I’m not getting any rhyme or reason why these tracks are on this album or in the order they’re presented in – here’s some music µ-Ziq had lying around, toss it on the CD, and here’s your final Virgin LP. Done and dusted.
Royal Astronomy’s just too erratic a listen to recommend it as a whole. Sometimes that works in IDM’s favour but not on this outing.
When µ-Ziq signed with Virgin, part of his deal included the creation of Planet Mu as an offshoot. Mr. Paradinas' label has gone on to some critical fame in the years since, but at the time Virgin was struggling in its promotion of IDM, unable to properly capitalize on the buzz Aphex Twin's videos had generated; or so the story goes. Not sure if it was that awful, what with plenty of magazine ad spots for Lunatic Harness and Royal Astronomy. Still, it's understandable that Virgin and Paradinas would decide parting ways was best for both, frenetic braindance chamber music most definitely not the sort of music easily marketed alongside The Chemical Brothers and Fatboy Slim. Thus, in 1998, the µ-Ziq brand found a permanent, exclusive home on Planet Mu, where Paradinas' albums have been released ever since.
Wait a second, Royal Astronomy came out in 1999, after Planet Mu went proper independent, yet was still released by Virgin. And, unlike Lunatic Harness, this album didn't get a Planet Mu edition, instead being published by Virgin sub-label Hut Recordings, who also released albums from acts like Smashing Pumpkins, Placebo, The Verve, and Gomez (wait, who?). What gives the dealy-o?
Since I'm not a journalist and unwilling to do much research beyond cursory digging, here’s some speculation instead: Paradinas had an album commitment to Virgin, releasing a set number of LPs within such-and-such time span. He got out of that contract when he gained the independent rights to Planet Mu, but had to still provide Virgin with at least one more album's worth of material as part of the bargain. Hence, Royal Astronomy, an album with Virgin's marketing clout behind it, and music with almost no interest on Paradinas' part. Am I right? Do I get the no-prize? Just this CD? Awww.
I can't outright call Royal Astronomy bad, as µ-Ziq has enough talent that even slapdash moments have something interesting going on. There's even a kernel of an album concept lurking in here, where Paradinas indulges is classical leaning compositions as though they were intended for Romantic Era performances (Scaling, Gruber’s Mandolin, Scrape) but sometimes given a thumping, funky twist for the modern era (The Hwicci Song, The Fear, Slice, World Of Leather). It'd be a fun exploration if he'd gone the album's length with it, but unfortunately is hardly touched upon after a promising first few tunes.
The rest either goes the acid IDM fun-funk route (Autumn Acid, Carpet Muncher), quirky pleasantness (56, Goodbye, Goodbye), and standard d’n’b rinse-outs (The Motorbike Track, Bust Your Arm). I’m not getting any rhyme or reason why these tracks are on this album or in the order they’re presented in – here’s some music µ-Ziq had lying around, toss it on the CD, and here’s your final Virgin LP. Done and dusted.
Royal Astronomy’s just too erratic a listen to recommend it as a whole. Sometimes that works in IDM’s favour but not on this outing.
Tuesday, April 28, 2015
Benny Benassi - Rock'N'Rave (Original TC Review)
Ultra Records: 2008
(2015 Update:
I recall hating this, but upon re-listening to Benassi's sophomore effort, it wasn't as bad as I remember. Surely it was within the review itself that my bile had been expunged, snarky quips galore shot upon one of dirty electro's founding fathers. Nay, t'was not here either, generally positive things said even while remaining properly critical. Hell, I even gave some praise to I Am Not Drunk, and that song's awful. Maybe taking on a temporary douche-bro mindset truly does help in seeing things from the other side, an appreciation for the trashy dumb-fun aspect of club culture. That, or I suspected things would only get worse with the advent of disposable EDM in the following decade.
Speaking of, no surprise Benassi's hitched another wagon onto the festival anthem house scene. His recent singles could be any number of Guetta/Hardwell clones though, not even retaining the sleazy charm that marked his early work. Makes some of the tripe on this album come off far more original. Still, if you've got a hankering for the old Ed Banger 'maximal' sound, stick with Boyz Noise.)
IN BRIEF: Marginal satisfaction.
Oh dear, we aren’t actually going to do this, are we? Oh yes indeed we (or at least I) are (am). After so many months of giving the collective nu-electro house scene the thumbs down, we’re going ahead and reviewing the new album from the man that propelled the sound into the stratosphere of popular taste with his hit single Satisfaction. No good can come of this, right? Tsk, you wound us with your petty assumptions.
Thing is, most of our criticisms of the genre tend to fall upon the stagnant Swedish side of things, where farting basslines dominate; but we here at TranceCritic have remained rather neutral where Benassi and his sleazy side-chaining clones are concerned. Chalk it up to a kind of love-hate relationship with Benny: he has undoubtedly produced some fun house music, but due to his catering to the tastes of mainstream lowest common denominator, not much of it holds up when placed under scrutiny. Still, he knows his role, and we know he knows his role, so we often let his brand of nu-electro go; let him enjoy his success while the sound is hot.
Popular trends are fleeting, however, and a little over two years ago, when last we talked of Benassi [at TranceCritic], we predicted the sleazy side-chaining gimmick would be wearing out its welcome. Sure enough, Benassi's nu-electro has been usurped in clubbing circles for a thrashier trashier kind of sound, feeding off the arena rock vibes acts like Justice brought to the forefront of dance music. Never being one to innovate but always one to capitalize upon a hot trend, Benny’s hopped on this latest bandwagon, and offers us his second album titled Rock‘N’Rave.
And he (plus producing partner Alle Benassi, remaining in the background while his brother Benny’s grabs the spotlight) does whip up some suitably rowdy numbers that’ll work perfectly fine in your typical weekend club; however, when stacked against much of the dance-rock material released this past year, it pales in comparison. Far too much of it sounds like Benassi approximating what he figures to be the Ed Banger aesthetic, hitting you with blunt out-of-tune riffs permanently cranked into the red; sometimes it works (Rock‘N’Rave, U Move U Rock Me) but most of the time it’s a noisy annoyance - which has often been the main criticism of this genre right from the beginning anyway.
Benassi hasn’t completely abandoned his bread and butter, though, and whenever he brings the harlots and side-chaining out, the tracks surprisingly fare better. I Am Not Drunk, for example, is a fun bit of boozy-woozy hedonistic-dance indulgence. And then there’s My Body and Who’s Your Daddy, which prove Benassi a capable producer when he plays to a chick’s sense of tease. Unfortunately, they also have their problems: despite My Body’s fun rowdy nature, the side-chaining in its main melody is atrocious, some of the worst I’ve heard in a while; and compared to the original version of Who’s Your Daddy, this Pump-kin mix lacks spunk.
Still, those bratty girls are far more entertaining than most of the guest vocalists Benassi has brought in. Aside from Come Fly Away, which features euro-dancey pop lyrics courtesy of Channing complementing old-school rave riffs (sweet! ...until you realize the track doesn’t really go anywhere), it seems we’re in an emoting boy-band audition session. Good god, it’s bad enough we’ve been having to hear it in bad euro-trance, but now in dance-rock too? Enough already.
Ah, hell. I’m getting too critical over this music, aren’t I. That’s not the right frame of mind at all for Benassi’s type of music. Hold on a moment while I slip into something a little more suitable...
*Downs half-a-dozen jagerbombs; shot-guns a Rock Star; rails a line of blow off the ass of a trampy twenty-something gal wearing tacky sunglasses; spikes hair into frosted tips*
So, bro! This Benassi shit, man! Fuckin’ killer shit, eh bro? Oh fuck ya’, man! Listen to those fuckin’ FAT beats and... oh fuck! Dude!! Check out those two sluts fucking frenchin’, bro! That’s fucking AWESOME! Yeah, you go, bitches!! Wooooo!!!!! Oh, hey, bro! Benassi’s fucking the SHIT, man! Look how he gets those skanks wet and horny. Damn, I’m gonna get me some pussy tonight, I shit you not, bro! Benny Benassi, woooo!!! This shit’s off the HOOK!
Hey, bro, got any blow?
*sobers up*
Ugh, what happened? Where was I? Ah, right. Guest vocalists. If you like your male vocalists sounding overly emotional and earnest, you’ll probably enjoy the guys on Rock ‘N’ Rave. And I have to admit Shocking Silence isn’t too bad of an offering, even if it’s merely style-biting Marco V’s False Light.
The second disc is mostly remixes and some of Benassi’s ‘vs’ projects assembled together. None of the remixes are worth your time (Eclectic Strings is a dub of My Body, and sounding woefully inept without Mia's skanky vocals). The rest sounds like Benny’s attempt to replicate the success of Bring The Pain by capitalizing on some other current trends (classic house revivalism in the case of Black Box, and punky indie rock in the case of Iggy Pop); Bring The Pain actually is some fun, even if I can’t help but be reminded of Jason Nevins and Run DMC, but the other two are wholly unnecessary and uninspired reworks, making me just want to listen to the originals instead. Pretty much a toss-off, CD number two is.
So, perhaps this was to be expected after all. There’s no doubt Rock ‘N’ Rave has moments that’ll entertain, even if it’s mostly in a drunken-dumb kind of way. As an album, though, it isn’t the kind of thing you’ll be playing much from front-to-end. While you may whole-heartedly accept Benassi’s change of direction, his execution of it all sounds uncertain, as though he’s only doing this in order to keep up with contemporary clubbing consciousness. Whether his fanbase picks up on this remains to be seen but, in the long run, finding any kind of Satisfaction on here will be difficult. Oh yes, I went with the bad pun; deal with it, bro!
Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2008. © All rights reserved.
(2015 Update:
I recall hating this, but upon re-listening to Benassi's sophomore effort, it wasn't as bad as I remember. Surely it was within the review itself that my bile had been expunged, snarky quips galore shot upon one of dirty electro's founding fathers. Nay, t'was not here either, generally positive things said even while remaining properly critical. Hell, I even gave some praise to I Am Not Drunk, and that song's awful. Maybe taking on a temporary douche-bro mindset truly does help in seeing things from the other side, an appreciation for the trashy dumb-fun aspect of club culture. That, or I suspected things would only get worse with the advent of disposable EDM in the following decade.
Speaking of, no surprise Benassi's hitched another wagon onto the festival anthem house scene. His recent singles could be any number of Guetta/Hardwell clones though, not even retaining the sleazy charm that marked his early work. Makes some of the tripe on this album come off far more original. Still, if you've got a hankering for the old Ed Banger 'maximal' sound, stick with Boyz Noise.)
IN BRIEF: Marginal satisfaction.
Oh dear, we aren’t actually going to do this, are we? Oh yes indeed we (or at least I) are (am). After so many months of giving the collective nu-electro house scene the thumbs down, we’re going ahead and reviewing the new album from the man that propelled the sound into the stratosphere of popular taste with his hit single Satisfaction. No good can come of this, right? Tsk, you wound us with your petty assumptions.
Thing is, most of our criticisms of the genre tend to fall upon the stagnant Swedish side of things, where farting basslines dominate; but we here at TranceCritic have remained rather neutral where Benassi and his sleazy side-chaining clones are concerned. Chalk it up to a kind of love-hate relationship with Benny: he has undoubtedly produced some fun house music, but due to his catering to the tastes of mainstream lowest common denominator, not much of it holds up when placed under scrutiny. Still, he knows his role, and we know he knows his role, so we often let his brand of nu-electro go; let him enjoy his success while the sound is hot.
Popular trends are fleeting, however, and a little over two years ago, when last we talked of Benassi [at TranceCritic], we predicted the sleazy side-chaining gimmick would be wearing out its welcome. Sure enough, Benassi's nu-electro has been usurped in clubbing circles for a thrashier trashier kind of sound, feeding off the arena rock vibes acts like Justice brought to the forefront of dance music. Never being one to innovate but always one to capitalize upon a hot trend, Benny’s hopped on this latest bandwagon, and offers us his second album titled Rock‘N’Rave.
And he (plus producing partner Alle Benassi, remaining in the background while his brother Benny’s grabs the spotlight) does whip up some suitably rowdy numbers that’ll work perfectly fine in your typical weekend club; however, when stacked against much of the dance-rock material released this past year, it pales in comparison. Far too much of it sounds like Benassi approximating what he figures to be the Ed Banger aesthetic, hitting you with blunt out-of-tune riffs permanently cranked into the red; sometimes it works (Rock‘N’Rave, U Move U Rock Me) but most of the time it’s a noisy annoyance - which has often been the main criticism of this genre right from the beginning anyway.
Benassi hasn’t completely abandoned his bread and butter, though, and whenever he brings the harlots and side-chaining out, the tracks surprisingly fare better. I Am Not Drunk, for example, is a fun bit of boozy-woozy hedonistic-dance indulgence. And then there’s My Body and Who’s Your Daddy, which prove Benassi a capable producer when he plays to a chick’s sense of tease. Unfortunately, they also have their problems: despite My Body’s fun rowdy nature, the side-chaining in its main melody is atrocious, some of the worst I’ve heard in a while; and compared to the original version of Who’s Your Daddy, this Pump-kin mix lacks spunk.
Still, those bratty girls are far more entertaining than most of the guest vocalists Benassi has brought in. Aside from Come Fly Away, which features euro-dancey pop lyrics courtesy of Channing complementing old-school rave riffs (sweet! ...until you realize the track doesn’t really go anywhere), it seems we’re in an emoting boy-band audition session. Good god, it’s bad enough we’ve been having to hear it in bad euro-trance, but now in dance-rock too? Enough already.
Ah, hell. I’m getting too critical over this music, aren’t I. That’s not the right frame of mind at all for Benassi’s type of music. Hold on a moment while I slip into something a little more suitable...
*Downs half-a-dozen jagerbombs; shot-guns a Rock Star; rails a line of blow off the ass of a trampy twenty-something gal wearing tacky sunglasses; spikes hair into frosted tips*
So, bro! This Benassi shit, man! Fuckin’ killer shit, eh bro? Oh fuck ya’, man! Listen to those fuckin’ FAT beats and... oh fuck! Dude!! Check out those two sluts fucking frenchin’, bro! That’s fucking AWESOME! Yeah, you go, bitches!! Wooooo!!!!! Oh, hey, bro! Benassi’s fucking the SHIT, man! Look how he gets those skanks wet and horny. Damn, I’m gonna get me some pussy tonight, I shit you not, bro! Benny Benassi, woooo!!! This shit’s off the HOOK!
Hey, bro, got any blow?
*sobers up*
Ugh, what happened? Where was I? Ah, right. Guest vocalists. If you like your male vocalists sounding overly emotional and earnest, you’ll probably enjoy the guys on Rock ‘N’ Rave. And I have to admit Shocking Silence isn’t too bad of an offering, even if it’s merely style-biting Marco V’s False Light.
The second disc is mostly remixes and some of Benassi’s ‘vs’ projects assembled together. None of the remixes are worth your time (Eclectic Strings is a dub of My Body, and sounding woefully inept without Mia's skanky vocals). The rest sounds like Benny’s attempt to replicate the success of Bring The Pain by capitalizing on some other current trends (classic house revivalism in the case of Black Box, and punky indie rock in the case of Iggy Pop); Bring The Pain actually is some fun, even if I can’t help but be reminded of Jason Nevins and Run DMC, but the other two are wholly unnecessary and uninspired reworks, making me just want to listen to the originals instead. Pretty much a toss-off, CD number two is.
So, perhaps this was to be expected after all. There’s no doubt Rock ‘N’ Rave has moments that’ll entertain, even if it’s mostly in a drunken-dumb kind of way. As an album, though, it isn’t the kind of thing you’ll be playing much from front-to-end. While you may whole-heartedly accept Benassi’s change of direction, his execution of it all sounds uncertain, as though he’s only doing this in order to keep up with contemporary clubbing consciousness. Whether his fanbase picks up on this remains to be seen but, in the long run, finding any kind of Satisfaction on here will be difficult. Oh yes, I went with the bad pun; deal with it, bro!
Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2008. © All rights reserved.
Monday, April 27, 2015
ACE TRACKS: August 2013
Huh. Spotify’s gone a little screwy after downloading one of their updates. Despite registering ~14,400 songs, my Local Files no longer show. Meh, serves me right for figuring a newer version of a Desktop app would somehow be better. There’ve been a few minor features that disappeared lately, though nothing as inconveniencing as this. I suppose it doesn’t make too much difference since most y’all couldn’t hear the missing tracks anyway. For a short Playlist such as AUGUST 2013’s, however, even having those songs in a track list would help some. Guess I’ll add them in whenever Spotify sorts their shit out.
Full track list here.
MISSING ALBUMS:
Various - High Karate
DJ John Kelley - High Desert Soundsystem
DJ John Kelley - High Desert Soundsystem 2 Various - Dirty Vegas: Homelands 2002 Preview
Various - Helsinki Mix Sessions: Jori Hulkkonen
William Orbit - Hello Waveforms
Various - Heroes! Rewind!!
Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 0%
Percentage Of Rock: 0%
Most “WTF?” Track: Daft Punk - Alive (how’d the end come so soon!?)
Vacation time already resulted in a lean month for reviews, but with half the albums covered not even available on Spotify makes for one very, very short Playlist. Remarkably, almost everything that made it is house music, and a rather specific sort at that. It’s like Frankie Knuckles, Daft Punk, and Hercules & Love Affair are kindred spirits in alphabetical coincidences. Even the tougher tech-trance from L.S.G., Trancesetters, and Jan Driver don’t sound out of place.
What obviously will though is that Hits Unlimited CD from 2 Unlimited. It seems Spotify finally has a version of the group’s greatest hits package available, so I’ve lumped it all at the end of the Playlist like the fanboy I am. There were also current remixes on it too, from the likes of Steve Aoki, Big Dawg, and Joachim Garraud. Naturally, I jettisoned them to the bin. Why make you suffer more than necessary?
Full track list here.
MISSING ALBUMS:
Various - High Karate
DJ John Kelley - High Desert Soundsystem
DJ John Kelley - High Desert Soundsystem 2 Various - Dirty Vegas: Homelands 2002 Preview
Various - Helsinki Mix Sessions: Jori Hulkkonen
William Orbit - Hello Waveforms
Various - Heroes! Rewind!!
Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 0%
Percentage Of Rock: 0%
Most “WTF?” Track: Daft Punk - Alive (how’d the end come so soon!?)
Vacation time already resulted in a lean month for reviews, but with half the albums covered not even available on Spotify makes for one very, very short Playlist. Remarkably, almost everything that made it is house music, and a rather specific sort at that. It’s like Frankie Knuckles, Daft Punk, and Hercules & Love Affair are kindred spirits in alphabetical coincidences. Even the tougher tech-trance from L.S.G., Trancesetters, and Jan Driver don’t sound out of place.
What obviously will though is that Hits Unlimited CD from 2 Unlimited. It seems Spotify finally has a version of the group’s greatest hits package available, so I’ve lumped it all at the end of the Playlist like the fanboy I am. There were also current remixes on it too, from the likes of Steve Aoki, Big Dawg, and Joachim Garraud. Naturally, I jettisoned them to the bin. Why make you suffer more than necessary?
Sunday, April 26, 2015
Various - Renaissance: The Masters Series Part 15 - James Zabiela
Renaissance: 2010
Maybe I should just go back to the beginning, those early seminal mixes that elevated James Zabiela into the progressive elite. Yet would I be let down by those too? There’s so much hype for Utilities, Sound In Motion and ALiVE, their legacy as essential contributions to progressive house/breaks/tech, I fear they can’t help but not live up to their praise. Were they just good for the time, or had ol’ Zabs’ earned enough good will with live shows and Sasha nods that they forgave whatever faults those CDs might have. They certainly can’t have that same sense of missed opportunities as his contributions to Renaissance’s Master Series have.
Let me repeat his CD1 mix from Part 12 remains a great collection of tunes, arranged with wonderful narrative flow; however, the whole package is undone by the hopelessly dated, drab techno of CD2. Part 15 is another double-disc set that would have benefitted from reducing it to one. In this case though, we’re dealing with two half-good mixes rather than one ace and one bunk.
Make no mistake, I was looking forward to hearing this one based on the tracklist alone. So many artists I enjoy, plus others I deeply respect despite not indulging their material as often. Like who, asks you, before knowing the imminent namedrop shall commence. There’s Gui Boratto, Robert Babicz, Guy J, Hardfloor, Spooky, Josh Wink, Kaito, Jori Hulkkanen, Siriusmo, Ellen Allien, Boys Noize, ASC, plus a chap by the name of Peter Benisch I’ve gushed all too often about. Part of what intrigued me about Part 15 was how Zabiela would arrange all these artists into a cohesive DJ set, and the answer is he barely does at all, mostly opting for the mixtape treatment of tracks instead. Okay, cool, I’m sure Zabiela’s got some great selections to showcase throughout the course of these runtimes. Ehh…
CD1, subtitled A Life Less Ordinary, suffers most from this, never gaining any traction until well over the half-way mark with a comfortable groove. Before that though, we run through dubby downbeat (Nosaj Thing’s Fog), clicky chill (Zabiela’s Burnt Bridges), shoegazey electro (R3volve’s Bootpacker Alpha), microfunk (ASC’s Porcelain), and acid-ragga breaks (Ruxpin’s A Sunrise). All cool music, but little connection between any of it beyond tunes Zabiela’s fond of, and the distracting, injected dialog snippets don’t help matter either (shame, because such recordings were also a plus in Part 12’s favor). Still, a strong finish for this disc, even if it’s thanks to Benisch’s Skymning pulling it forward (no bias!).
CD2, subtitled Afterlife, almost has a good start with some melodic Detroit techno (Vince Watson’s Long Way From Home, but is followed upon deep tech-house that has all the substance of a rice cracker. At least it isn’t plodding, and once Zabiela gets out of the fussy bloopiness of it all, he settles into an enjoyable proggy outing with a little acid funk thrown in. There, that wasn’t so hard. Why you no do that from the start?
Maybe I should just go back to the beginning, those early seminal mixes that elevated James Zabiela into the progressive elite. Yet would I be let down by those too? There’s so much hype for Utilities, Sound In Motion and ALiVE, their legacy as essential contributions to progressive house/breaks/tech, I fear they can’t help but not live up to their praise. Were they just good for the time, or had ol’ Zabs’ earned enough good will with live shows and Sasha nods that they forgave whatever faults those CDs might have. They certainly can’t have that same sense of missed opportunities as his contributions to Renaissance’s Master Series have.
Let me repeat his CD1 mix from Part 12 remains a great collection of tunes, arranged with wonderful narrative flow; however, the whole package is undone by the hopelessly dated, drab techno of CD2. Part 15 is another double-disc set that would have benefitted from reducing it to one. In this case though, we’re dealing with two half-good mixes rather than one ace and one bunk.
Make no mistake, I was looking forward to hearing this one based on the tracklist alone. So many artists I enjoy, plus others I deeply respect despite not indulging their material as often. Like who, asks you, before knowing the imminent namedrop shall commence. There’s Gui Boratto, Robert Babicz, Guy J, Hardfloor, Spooky, Josh Wink, Kaito, Jori Hulkkanen, Siriusmo, Ellen Allien, Boys Noize, ASC, plus a chap by the name of Peter Benisch I’ve gushed all too often about. Part of what intrigued me about Part 15 was how Zabiela would arrange all these artists into a cohesive DJ set, and the answer is he barely does at all, mostly opting for the mixtape treatment of tracks instead. Okay, cool, I’m sure Zabiela’s got some great selections to showcase throughout the course of these runtimes. Ehh…
CD1, subtitled A Life Less Ordinary, suffers most from this, never gaining any traction until well over the half-way mark with a comfortable groove. Before that though, we run through dubby downbeat (Nosaj Thing’s Fog), clicky chill (Zabiela’s Burnt Bridges), shoegazey electro (R3volve’s Bootpacker Alpha), microfunk (ASC’s Porcelain), and acid-ragga breaks (Ruxpin’s A Sunrise). All cool music, but little connection between any of it beyond tunes Zabiela’s fond of, and the distracting, injected dialog snippets don’t help matter either (shame, because such recordings were also a plus in Part 12’s favor). Still, a strong finish for this disc, even if it’s thanks to Benisch’s Skymning pulling it forward (no bias!).
CD2, subtitled Afterlife, almost has a good start with some melodic Detroit techno (Vince Watson’s Long Way From Home, but is followed upon deep tech-house that has all the substance of a rice cracker. At least it isn’t plodding, and once Zabiela gets out of the fussy bloopiness of it all, he settles into an enjoyable proggy outing with a little acid funk thrown in. There, that wasn’t so hard. Why you no do that from the start?
Saturday, April 25, 2015
Amon Tobin - Out From Out Where
Ninja Tune: 2002
Out From Out Where marks a transitional period in Amon Tobin's career. I know this because that's what many ten year old reviews tell me, and I've no reason to disbelieve them. True, I should know this more intuitively than second-hand Wiki links, but my Tobin experience has thus far only been his earliest efforts for Ninja Tune. That leaves a near half-decade gap between Bricolage and this one, of which ol' Amon could have taken all sorts of weird and crazy musical tangents. No no, don't tell me what Supermodified and Permutation sound like, Dr. Spotify, I savour the mystery that still exists, music that I've yet to discover and properly take in with attentive ears. We need not know all the things all at once, right?
Thus, we jump a few years over the rest of Mr. Tobin’s ‘90s output, away from the jazz-fusion signifiers that won him plenty of plaudits. A little branching out never hurt anyone as talented as ol’ Amon, even if it was sometimes in weird ways (a field recordings album, really?). Out From Out Where seems less concerned with artistic endeavours though, going for something more accessible, with big nasty beats that the kids lap up in the streets.
Seriously, everyone going on about the awesomeness of glitch hop these days would cream their shorts after hearing the opening salvo of this album. There’s still more than enough micro-editing and beat stitching that’ll have your Squarepusher triggers flashing, but Tobin doesn’t go so braindancey in this outing, tracks coming off like turntable cut-ups as only capably performed by an arachnid DJ. Back From Space has funky bass licks, stuttering hip-hop rhythms, flanged-out string sections, and gnarly bass action. Verbal is a complete funk-hop stomp rock-out, including acoustic guitar strums, cannon-blast bass, cavernous percussion, and stitched in MCing. Chronic Tronic bounces along with drums and woodblocks echoing off huge halls, nasty low-end wobbles, vicious beat craft, and wonderfully contrasted with ethereal orchestral passages. Yes, that’s a thing, got’dang it, Amon Tobin’s made it so. He also makes my inner b-boy bust out some sick moves – if only my aging body could pull them off. *sigh*
The rest of Out From Out Where doesn’t reach the same thrill as the opening three provides, but does offer its share of mint material too. Cosmo Retro Intro Outro may as well be Tobin’s official “hey advertisers, here’s a track!” big beat offering, while Triple Science has him getting his drill ‘n’ bass on. Meanwhile, Hey Blondie has a little krautrock vibe going for it, and El Wraith shows the ill-fated illbient genre still had some life in it for the new millennium. The rest is the sort of trip-hop many associate with Ninja Tune with a little added Amon flair, though I understand why some might not be as impressed with such music since its well tread ground since the ‘90s. Whatever, it’s still great headphone tuneage. Pardon me as I go swagger down my street now.
Out From Out Where marks a transitional period in Amon Tobin's career. I know this because that's what many ten year old reviews tell me, and I've no reason to disbelieve them. True, I should know this more intuitively than second-hand Wiki links, but my Tobin experience has thus far only been his earliest efforts for Ninja Tune. That leaves a near half-decade gap between Bricolage and this one, of which ol' Amon could have taken all sorts of weird and crazy musical tangents. No no, don't tell me what Supermodified and Permutation sound like, Dr. Spotify, I savour the mystery that still exists, music that I've yet to discover and properly take in with attentive ears. We need not know all the things all at once, right?
Thus, we jump a few years over the rest of Mr. Tobin’s ‘90s output, away from the jazz-fusion signifiers that won him plenty of plaudits. A little branching out never hurt anyone as talented as ol’ Amon, even if it was sometimes in weird ways (a field recordings album, really?). Out From Out Where seems less concerned with artistic endeavours though, going for something more accessible, with big nasty beats that the kids lap up in the streets.
Seriously, everyone going on about the awesomeness of glitch hop these days would cream their shorts after hearing the opening salvo of this album. There’s still more than enough micro-editing and beat stitching that’ll have your Squarepusher triggers flashing, but Tobin doesn’t go so braindancey in this outing, tracks coming off like turntable cut-ups as only capably performed by an arachnid DJ. Back From Space has funky bass licks, stuttering hip-hop rhythms, flanged-out string sections, and gnarly bass action. Verbal is a complete funk-hop stomp rock-out, including acoustic guitar strums, cannon-blast bass, cavernous percussion, and stitched in MCing. Chronic Tronic bounces along with drums and woodblocks echoing off huge halls, nasty low-end wobbles, vicious beat craft, and wonderfully contrasted with ethereal orchestral passages. Yes, that’s a thing, got’dang it, Amon Tobin’s made it so. He also makes my inner b-boy bust out some sick moves – if only my aging body could pull them off. *sigh*
The rest of Out From Out Where doesn’t reach the same thrill as the opening three provides, but does offer its share of mint material too. Cosmo Retro Intro Outro may as well be Tobin’s official “hey advertisers, here’s a track!” big beat offering, while Triple Science has him getting his drill ‘n’ bass on. Meanwhile, Hey Blondie has a little krautrock vibe going for it, and El Wraith shows the ill-fated illbient genre still had some life in it for the new millennium. The rest is the sort of trip-hop many associate with Ninja Tune with a little added Amon flair, though I understand why some might not be as impressed with such music since its well tread ground since the ‘90s. Whatever, it’s still great headphone tuneage. Pardon me as I go swagger down my street now.
Friday, April 24, 2015
Faithless - No Roots
Arista: 2004
Faithless had to know they needed a shakeup. The various members weren't feeling the synergy quite so strong as the years wore on, other pet projects taking their time away from being one of the biggest bands in the UK (huh, that sounds familiar). They had enough built-in good will with their fans that stretching their musical ability wouldn't alienate many anyway, so why not try something different while the opportunity was there? It's not like it'd abruptly end the group. Haha... eh, well...
Still, No Roots was popular enough, earning Faithless their first number one album on the UK charts. It’s mind-boggling that they never accomplished it with any previous LP. You’d think at least Sunday 8PM or even Outrospective would have climbed that high since those had much bigger singles in their favour (the group was still too ‘underground’ in their Reverence years). Generally speaking, Outrospective did have better success abroad, but most of the world had moved on from Faithless by 2004, whereas their native land still had much love for them (for a couple more years anyway).
No Roots may not have garnered the same mass appeal as their previous albums, but I wager this is Faithless’ best album-album after Sunday 8PM. Though the group dared to blend genres few others would in their previous LPs, their old formula was getting all too predictable. Here’s the trip-hop conscious track with Maxi Jazz. Here’s the Big Obvious Club Anthem. Here’s the world-weary folksy singer song. Here’s the Dido guest spot. Here’s the other Big Obvious Club Anthem. Here’s the other trip-hop conscious track with Maxi Jazz. Here’s the quirky track. Here’s the blissy instrumental. Hey, it was a very effective way to arrange an album, but doing the same thing three times in a row seems self-defeating for a group known for their dynamic musical abilities.
No Roots opts for a different, erm, route. You still have the same markers, but they’re blended into the flow of the album far more effectively. Heck, the entire record flows wonderfully between tracks, making the whole thing come off like one long song. Example: after the rousing build of I Want More (the first of the Big Club Anthem on here, though not as Obvious as prior hits), the drop into chipper, jazz-hoppy Love Lives On My Street is hardly forced, sounding as natural a follow-up as anything could. Another significant change to No Roots is the inclusion of LSK, providing an urban R&B croon in contrast to the khaki-clad style prior guest singers had (Jamie Catto, Boy George).
Elsewhere on the album, you get deep house (Sweep, Miss U Less, See U More), classy clubbier stuff (What About Love), acid ambient (Pastoral), and a little rock action too (Swingers) among the dependable trip-hop tracks. Plenty of reprisals throughout too, adding to the sense No Roots was designed with a full play-through in mind. Listen to a Faithless album in full? *gasp* No skipping to the hits for you, pal.
Faithless had to know they needed a shakeup. The various members weren't feeling the synergy quite so strong as the years wore on, other pet projects taking their time away from being one of the biggest bands in the UK (huh, that sounds familiar). They had enough built-in good will with their fans that stretching their musical ability wouldn't alienate many anyway, so why not try something different while the opportunity was there? It's not like it'd abruptly end the group. Haha... eh, well...
Still, No Roots was popular enough, earning Faithless their first number one album on the UK charts. It’s mind-boggling that they never accomplished it with any previous LP. You’d think at least Sunday 8PM or even Outrospective would have climbed that high since those had much bigger singles in their favour (the group was still too ‘underground’ in their Reverence years). Generally speaking, Outrospective did have better success abroad, but most of the world had moved on from Faithless by 2004, whereas their native land still had much love for them (for a couple more years anyway).
No Roots may not have garnered the same mass appeal as their previous albums, but I wager this is Faithless’ best album-album after Sunday 8PM. Though the group dared to blend genres few others would in their previous LPs, their old formula was getting all too predictable. Here’s the trip-hop conscious track with Maxi Jazz. Here’s the Big Obvious Club Anthem. Here’s the world-weary folksy singer song. Here’s the Dido guest spot. Here’s the other Big Obvious Club Anthem. Here’s the other trip-hop conscious track with Maxi Jazz. Here’s the quirky track. Here’s the blissy instrumental. Hey, it was a very effective way to arrange an album, but doing the same thing three times in a row seems self-defeating for a group known for their dynamic musical abilities.
No Roots opts for a different, erm, route. You still have the same markers, but they’re blended into the flow of the album far more effectively. Heck, the entire record flows wonderfully between tracks, making the whole thing come off like one long song. Example: after the rousing build of I Want More (the first of the Big Club Anthem on here, though not as Obvious as prior hits), the drop into chipper, jazz-hoppy Love Lives On My Street is hardly forced, sounding as natural a follow-up as anything could. Another significant change to No Roots is the inclusion of LSK, providing an urban R&B croon in contrast to the khaki-clad style prior guest singers had (Jamie Catto, Boy George).
Elsewhere on the album, you get deep house (Sweep, Miss U Less, See U More), classy clubbier stuff (What About Love), acid ambient (Pastoral), and a little rock action too (Swingers) among the dependable trip-hop tracks. Plenty of reprisals throughout too, adding to the sense No Roots was designed with a full play-through in mind. Listen to a Faithless album in full? *gasp* No skipping to the hits for you, pal.
Labels:
2004,
album,
ambient,
anthem house,
Arista,
chill-out,
deep house,
downtempo,
Faithless,
R&B,
trip-hop
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