Aphex Twin - Selected Ambient Works 85-92

R & S Records: 1992/2011

I’ve already ranted on about R & S Records’ utterly derped idea of replacing classic covers with their logo when they did the deed on Model 500’s Deep Space. At least in the case of Aphex Twin’s Selected Ambient Works 85-92, it wasn’t that much of a difference. The stark white background is retained, and the cover logo remains black provided you keep the shiny portions tilted away from the light. Yeah, the R & S stallion isn’t as dope as the Aphex ‘A’ ( or ‘A+T’, or ‘λ’, or saw, or half-starfish, or rip-off of the Yellow Pages logo, or whatever crackpot theory that’s out this week), but at least the simplistic style remained. It’s not like the original’s packaging was much to get fussed over anyway.

That’s the only fresh take I can offer with this review. Everything else that can be said about SAW 85-92, has been said, including me saying what I just said. Of course, there’s also my personal thoughts about this album, so if you’re after any proper critical analysis of Aphex Twin’s debut LP, scurry on over to one of the zillion other reviews online. Heck, even the new liner notes from Will Troup in this re-issue might suffice, even though they’re unashamedly fanboyish.

What I find so remarkable about this classic album is how it’s not really an album at all. Yes, Mr. Richard D. James often toyed with the LP convention, but most of his subsequent full-lengths had some structure to them, encouraging you to play them front-to-back so each track was taken in with the context of its surrounding neighbors. SAW 85-92 doesn’t have that, tracks coming and going as they mean to go on. Nor should there be any rhyme or reason to their sequence since the whole release is literally nothing more than a collection of tapes he’d made over the years. After giving them to an eagerly curious Renaat Vandepapeliere, the R & S head set up a new sub-label (Apollo) to release some selections upon realizing how far ahead of the curve these tapes were. He couldn’t put it on his techno print, after all; they were just too ambient for that. Yet, they weren’t proper ambient either, were they? So many weird, rough rhythms, taking well-worn drum machines and feeding them through filters and distorters and reverbers. Ah well, those lovely melodies and alien synths were close enough to ambient to make it count for the time being. Folks would shortly come up with a proper new genre tag anyway.

Of all Ricardo de Santiago’s output from the ‘90s, it took me the longest to hear this one in full. For sure I’d heard a few tracks here and there (Xtal, Schottkey 7th Path, Pulsewidth), but as SAW Early-Years came out on Apollo, it always sat stupid expensive on Canadian shelves. I knew the legend of this album, but no way was it worth thirty-plus bones for old ambient techno.

Nah, guy, even then it totally was.

Fallen - Secrets Of The Moon

Tranquillo Records: 2015

Why did neo-folky Lorenzo Bracaloni choose the alias of Fallen for his new project? There’s so many Fallens out there. Lord Discogs lists at least a dozen who’ve taken on the moniker prior to Bracaloni. For that matter, why even use a whole new alias? Is his material as The Child Of A Creek just too different from what he provides in this CD? Huh, I guess I should take a listen to some of those albums just to be sure. With five LPs out there, a couple ought to be on the Spotifys or Bandcamps for a quick perusal. I’ll be right back.

And I’m back. Wow, Lord Discogs wasn’t kidding when it described The Child Of A Creek as neo-folk. Half the time I feel like I’m in some medieval fantasy book or a quieter moment out of the Witcher series, but with added contemporary treatments like ambient synth washes or prog-rock guitar echoes. Neat stuff, though I can’t say it’s a sound I actively search for. Oh, and aside from similar influences in instrumentation, nothing like the music on this album of Secrets Of The Moon.

For one thing, there’s no singing for the Fallen – we’re dealing with instrumental-only pieces here. I wouldn’t call it pure ambient though, as there’s a steady, rhythmic pulse throughout most of these tracks, either as traditional percussion but sometimes complemented with an electronic bassline too. It takes elements of New Age meditation folk and jettisons all the bits that makes that music so tepid and sap, rather like TUU in their heyday (please tell me you still remember TUU). I also get something of a krautrock vibe here, mostly of that genre’s quieter moments with synth effects and echoing guitar. By and large though, we’re in the realms of outdoor chill music as enjoyed in the cool, summer twilight, a light mist obscuring the moon high in the sky. Oh, what secrets Luna holds on this particular night, wonder thee (rocks; it’s mostly rocks).

Particulars, then, because I need to burn a little more word count here. A mere six tracks make up Secrets Of The Moon, each lengthy but not tediously so, placing the album at about a breezy fifty-five minutes. The longest of these (and the titular cut) goes through a few movements but generally returns to a somber oboe melody with dark pads in support. The second longest track, Cosmos, opens with minimalist drone, soon giving way to Middle Eastern percussion and lengthy synth passages before finally erupting in bright synth-drone washes and distant guitars. Elsewhere, shorter pieces Ravenhand prominently features a santoor, Of Dreams allows the electric guitar centre stage, and Golden Dust has a very ethereal gothic vibe going for it.

So this was a fun little bit of exploration. Like The Child Of A Creek, I can’t say I’m inclined to check out future Fallen (14) efforts, but it was worth getting out of my comfort zone for Secrets Of The Moon.

Various - The Secret Life Of Trance: Episode 2

Imperial Dancefloor: 2000

Awww, yeah. Now we're talkin'. A compilation of Rising High trance, one of the O.G. labels of that scene, with a bonus DJ mix CD from the Godfather of trance, Oliver Lieb. I spy Cygnus X's Superstrings in that mix - not the Rank 1 remix or Corsten remix (or whatever), but the original, old-school version. You bet the boys behind this revitalized Secret Life Of Trance series were about to lay some serious knowledge on all them 'crackers of the year 2000. Nothing could possibly go wrong with this.

The first track on here is Lost 22 from Starecase. Hey, I've seen that name on a few DJ mixes before (Bill Hamel, Timo Maas, and some dude by the name of Tijs). I'm also fairly certain I've heard the Max Graham Remix of Lost 22, but the original version is what we get here. It’s a charming little prog-trance number, the sort you’d hear in plenty of set openers of the time. It also sounds very much of 2000, which I wasn’t expecting from a Rising High compilation. Guess Casper Pound had to placate the masses’ expectations for a trance CD regardless, but at least Lost 22’s classy enough.

Following that is nu-skool breaks from XPD’s Titty Twister. Wait, what the Hell? What on earth is a breakbeat track doing on a trance CD? These aren’t even ‘trancey breaks’ like Hybrid or something, but full-blown nu-skool, including those buzzy basslines everyone enjoyed mocking. This is the sort of stuff Adam Freeland was playing, and has no place on a trance collection, even if Mr. Pound is one of the producers. Would the breaks scene accept an ATB cut in a Krafty Kuts mix? Hell no!

Following that is... oh God. Moonrunners’ Fathom is a such a lame pinch of the Balearic trance fad, including a synth rhythm that sounds like a watered-down version of Tekara’s Breathe In You. The whole track’s insipid bilge, with an overlong breakdown playing out Zamfir’s The Lonely Shepherd on Spanish guitar – dudes, you don’t diss the Zamf’s panflutes like that! The rest of CD1 amounts to little else of note. Chris Cowey (as F2) turns in an agreeable bit of techno on Dominca, Silvio Ecomo’s Standinghas a solid tribal pulse, and Lieb goes deep with Light It Up as Phools Inc. Beyond that, generally a balls disc, sadly.

With such weak music to work with, ol’ Oliver would have to transcend even Sasha’s skills on the decks to salvage the CD2 mix. He does what he can, but even at best Mr. L.S.G. has only been a functional jock. He spices things up with a few of his own productions, almost all under obscure one-off aliases like Mindspace and Multiplicity. The mix even turns enjoyable once he’s finished playing out the obligatory CD1 material, finishing out with an old-school vibe I thought Rising High would deliver. Unfortunately, it’s not enough for another play of Secret Life Of Trance: Episode 2 anytime soon.

Underworld - Second Toughest In The Infants

TVT Records: 1996

Also known as that album everyone bought expecting to find Born Slippy on. Then they were disappointed to discover Born Slippy wasn't on this album, and demand grew for the biggest single of Underworld's career be added. So they did, shuffling it off to a bonus disc in select countries like South Korea, Japan, and eventually as a re-issue in the band's native UK. Us folks here in the Americas, however, never got that bonus disc, forced to enjoy Born Slippy in its original EP format or as the opener of the Trainspotter soundtrack. And you know what, we're totally fine with that, yo'. If Underworld had intended Born Slippy as part of the Second Toughest In The Infants experience, they'd have included it as part of the original album package. It's not their fault they underestimated that track's massive appeal. Besides, there were other options to hear it anyway (including Top 40 radio!). Nay, best to take in this album as intended - we're tote's fine without that bonus CD here in North America, really!

Of course, once folks got past that Born Slippy exclusion, they realized Second Toughest In The Infants is a great piece of Underworld musicianship even without it. Dubnobasswithmyheadman was genre defining, but it mostly stuck to its proggy groove throughout; later, Beaucoup Fish settled for a mellower vibe, an LP fully intended for the home market whether folks wanted it or not. This second outing in the Emerson years finds the group venturing into scenes that would normally clash in the hands of others, yet melts together in a fashion only Underworld could make their own.

First though, that opener! The Juanita-Kiteless combo is already brilliant, and was rightfully the group’s killer start in all their late ‘90s tours. Weaving in a little extra acid action with To Dream Of Love only makes the first sixteen minutes of this album that much more mint, but I’ll never tire of those soaring synths, robot voices, or echoing guitar stabs. Why yes, this is my favourite piece of Underworld action, even over all the recognized classics.

And how do you follow one of the greatest starts to an album in your catalogue? By going jazzstep and trip-hop for another fifteen minute medley (Banstyle-Sappy’s Curry), of all things. Look, it was 1996, and those were the cool new genres to toy around with. Speaking of, how about them d’n’b crazy-crazy-crazy beats in Pearl’s Girl, eh? This just might be my second-favourite Underworld track, if you don’t include their remixes.

With so much awesome on Second Roughest Of The Chill’ins, it’s easy to forget the other solid tunes on offer. There’s some vintage Underworld cool-groove with Confusion The Waitress, more pummelling techno action with Rowla, a mellower techno outing with Air Towel, and something of a New Wave throwback in chill-out closer Stagger. It’s a well rounded album from a well-rounded group, and no excuses on your part to not be playing this right now.

Aes Dana - Season 5

Ultimae Records: 2002/2008

So Ultimae have been busy getting their re-issues on, in particular label-head Aes Dana's early back catalogue. Only... it's 24kbs FLAC remasters, and not anything in a physical medium. *sigh* Maybe they'll get around to it again, but my hopes of having Memory Shell on CD with a classy photography booklet grows ever slimmer in the passing years (to say nothing of the ultra-rare Aftermath). Dear me, I hope Ultimae isn't considering a limited vinyl run of these? It’d be wonderful for consumers of the black crack, but we purveyors of aluminum are getting left out on the curb. They couldn't be so cruel!

Musings for later. For now let’s go back to Ultimae's early years, when you could count their roster on one Simpsons hand. Their discography included but a couple of albums and a smattering of compilations, all quite stunning - yes, even Fahrenheit Project Three, as it'd yet to be eclipsed. Vincent Villuis had already worked with Asura for Code Eternity, and was testing the solo waters as Aes Dana through Ultimae’s compilations, but he put off his proper debut for while, allowing other artists the spotlight to create buzz for the label. Heck, he’d probably have let Carbon Based Lifeforms release Hydroponic Garden ahead of Season 5 if they’d joined Ultimae a little sooner. I wonder if Mr. Villuis is just humble to a fault sometimes.

As for this album, it’s an Aes Dana LP, and as I’ve done this dance with y’all three times prior, I’m sure you can guess how this one’s turning out too. He pretty much nailed his moody, minimalist brand of dontempo psy from the onset, and Season 5 is no different in that regard. As this is a debut, however, there aren’t as many genre explorations as you’d find in his latter albums, this one mostly sticking to dark prog-psy grooves and dark ambient techno tones. Plus, with a running theme of the ‘fifth season’ of the year, we get the sounds of nature thrown in at various points. What is the fifth season, you ask? Not any specific stretch of days in the year, claims the PR blurb, but those transitional points between seasonal change. Huh, we have those all the time here in Vancouver. They’re those wonky days where it’ll be frigid and wet in the morning, but clear and warm by the afternoon: two seasons for the price of one solar cycle, and throwing your clothing options into utter disarray.

Season 5’s a solid enough album from Aes Dana, as all his albums typically are. If that’s not enough convincing though, consider this: little sounded quite like the music that’s on this album at the time. Even Ultimae was still mostly toeing the psy-chill and world beat line, and to have something as dark as Season 5 come out in that scene had to come as a surprise. We’ve grown all too spoiled by Aes Dana’s style by now, but given that context, it’s a remarkable record.

Hybrid Leisureland - Scroll Slide

Ultimae Records: 2010

Before getting into this album, what's the deal with Ultimae this year? We're nearly half way through 2015, and there's been scant material from the label - a couple singles from Miktek and Aes Dana, and that's about it. Perhaps they're going through another one of their occasional fallow periods, focusing on internal restructuring or recruiting drives for new artists. Ooh, maybe they're busy getting ready for another round of re-issues. That'd be wicked-awesome if some of their older material gets the physical format treatment again! Get the buzz out there, boys and girls.

Speaking of words that end with “uzz” (wait for it...), let's talk Scroll Slide from Hybrid Leisureland. The ambient project curated by Hidetoshi Koizumi has popped up on this blog once or twice (Connect.Ohm, Ultimae compilations), but this is the first time I'm diving into a proper solo full-length album by the man from Japan. Not that he has a whole heck of a lot to sift through, this only being his second LP out of three, one earlier on hopelessly obscure print Floor Limit, and a third on equally obscure print Double Life Records (Lord Discogs lists Hybrid Leisureland’s Variable as its only release, though has a catalogue number suggesting a few others out there, unknown to even The Lord That Knows All; methinks it’s an outlet for Mr. Koizumi’s studio though). He hasn’t been in much of a hurry to release material for its own sake either, a surprising approach for the sort of ambient produced under the Hybrid Leisureland banner. Laptop noodlers and synth droners churn out hundreds of such albums yearly, some artists releasing at least a dozen LP-length pieces in the same amount of time ol’ Hidetoshi’s put out three.

Perhaps that’s why Scroll Slide was mostly bypassed even with the greater exposure Ultimae offered. Folks enjoying ambient techno and psy-chill the label’s known for weren’t sure what to make of a pure ambient album of the sort Harold Budd and Brian Eno might have made way back in the day (or in the here and now for that matter). Every delicate touch of piano, soft layer of pad, or minute strike of percussion is treated with an impossibly sense of fragility, as though Hybrid Leisureland’s music was a piece of abstract art made of feathers. You figure it could fall over with the slightest breeze, yet it remains sturdy and sound, defiant against your expectations of physics. Um, I’m not sure how this metaphor translates to the music on Scroll Slide, but you can bet you’d hear these compositions on the speakers of such a gallery in Tokyo.

Each track Mr. Koizumi crafted holds up as individual pieces of music, not just mindless synth drone. Beyond that, however, there honestly isn’t much to detail, though with reasonable runtimes they never noodle about as so much similar ambient does. Think of Scroll Slide as a comforter blanket, leaving you feeling snug and warm within its fuzz.

Fugees - The Score

Columbia: 1996

Fugees’ The Score annoyed me to no end when it first came out. It was inescapable, everyone hyping the ever-loving Hell out of it, songs on hourly rotation blasting from radio airwaves and music video transmissions. Not to mention the nonstop requests at whatever teen dance, Christmas party, or wedding I was attending, when all I wanted to hear out was a little Dance Mix 96 instead. Okay, so I only heard Killing Me Softly, because it was among the most omnipresent singles of that year. That was enough to convince me The Score wasn’t worth my time though, as teenage ignorance is wont to do.

Slowly but surely I came around to the Fugees' multi-platinum selling sophomore effort (thanks, jungle remixes!). Killing Me Softly is what it is, a fine cover of a classic soul song that gave Lauryn Hill the spotlight on the album, Wyclef and Pras politely stepping aside for her moment to shine (save some hype man calls). What finally made me a fan, however, was the way she could command a hook so effortlessly.

Ready Or Not is the obvious one, but the strangely forgotten Fu-Gee-La is another winner, her rendition of the Teena Marie original worming its way inside your brain matter for long-term residence. Seriously, I listened to The Score about a week ago, and her Fu-Gee-La chorus is still randomly spinning in my head! It doesn’t hurt it’s got such a wicked bottom end, deep in the dub with a swaggering dancehall bounce. Why doesn’t anyone bring this song up anymore? It was the lead single, including a prominent sticker on the front proudly proclaiming it as the reason to buy The Score. It had two extra remixes added as bonus tracks, including one from dub reggae legends Sly & Robbie! Yet to this day, nadda and zilch is mentioned of it. Hell, I don’t even recall anyone talking up the track even when the album was new – even the goofy kung-fu Chinese restaurant skit prior to it got more play than Fu-Gee-La. Revive this song, yo’!

While the rest of The Score if often bypassed from the big tunes, that’d be a disservice to your ears. Yes, the Fugees were only ever modest MCs, but they rose to fame when gangsta tropes and New York City mafioso raps were the big hotness on the East Coast. In feeding off their influences of reggae, dancehall, soul, and the conscious end of hip-hop, they stood apart from all their contemporaries, offering an easy-going vibe for an increasingly aggressive scene. They could throw down when it came to battle skills (How Many Mics, The Score), though their focus was aimed more at inner-city strife, especially back in Wyclef’s native Haiti.

Speaking of Wyclef, just how brilliantly daft is some of his production here? Sampling Enya – freaking Enya! – for a hip-hop track and making it work is amazing in of itself. Still, I always knew Boadicea was a dope cut, if given right context.

ASC - Sci-Files Volume Six

Covert Operations Recordings: 2008

While good ol' J' covered for my brain cramp on these singles, I did a little extra sleuthing on these Sci-Files. As Amazon doesn't have them available for listening purposes, I sought alternative streaming and purchasing options: Spotify, Soundcloud, and all that. Checking in with Bandcamp, I discovered ASC did in fact gather up the various Sci-Files EPs into a proper long-player, and made it available through his newer Auxiliary print! Unfortunately, it's still just a digital format, but if you want to experience these songs as an album rather than disjointed singles, there's no need to put that extra effort into making consolidated playlists anymore (sorry, Jack).

On the other hand, maybe these past four reviews of praise somehow left you with an indifferent shrug for the whole deal. So ASC makes some finely crafted atmospheric jungle – many producers have over the years too, plenty of which are still available for a quick listen all over the interstreams. With so much music and so little time, there’s just not enough minutes in the day to indulge yet another classy d’n’b collection if it’s still adhering to The Rules of the genre. Fair enough, which makes Volume Six of this series all the more important to ASC’s Sci-Files endeavour. You can mostly skip out the previous volumes if the prospect of ‘spacey atmospheric jungle from the late ‘00s’ doesn’t do it for you, but Volume Six, no way, guy. This is where Mr. Clements finally gave us a taste of future possibilities, in his music making abilities and the d’n’b scene as a whole. Why, you might say he achieved a sort of epiphany during his Sci-Files sessions! (oh God, I’m so sorry for that)

So, Epiphany, track number one of part six in a twelve track album-series. Remember that whole genre-not-genre microfunk thing I mentioned back in Volume Three and most of anything Autonomic related? Oh yeah, this cut is that sound to a tee, urgent rhythms and steady propellant bassline, but entirely dubbed-out and subdued in their execution. Even with the brisk pace, the percussion remains minimal and sparse, allowing the deep low-end plenty of space to ooze in all those sonic gaps. Meanwhile, wide-screen pads and dreamy synths breathe like cosmic embers, and damn skippy Epiphany’s getting my simile wank-fest on.

Taking us out of Sci-Files is Defiant To The End, another slice of sweet microfunk pie (the name will stick, trust me!). The rhythms are stripped even further than Epiphany, percussion and bass blanketed by droning ambience. Melody is barely present, an occasional ping of notes or crest of pad synth emerging before retreating back from our ears. It’s atmospheric music in the truest sense of the word, not just some fancy definition of a vibe.

And that wraps up this week’s look into ASC’s Sci-Files. Somehow, against the odds, this was kept interesting with so little music to work with (it was, right?). Hope y’all now understand why I don’t indulge singles too often.

ASC - Sci-Files Volume Five (Jack Moss Review)

Covert Operations Recordings: 2008

(note: why have one guest spot review when you can have two for twice the price, especially when the bill is a tidy zero dollars to begin with? You can read more reviews from Jack Moss on his blog, even if he hasn't updated in a while. How long's his hiatus been, a little over two years now? Huh, sounds familiar somehow...)


So, Sci-Files Volume 5, eh? Having played all my overlong intro cards in the previous review, how the Hell am I supposed to drag out a description of two tracks to another Sykonee-imposed word count? Even if they are two of the most gorgeous, evocative pieces of electronic music ever committed to, um, file?

Ah, the hell with it.

The Elements starts with the most unpromising sample on the whole damn series, a MOR guitar strum that immediately brings to mind memories of criminally tepid coffee table jazz ‘n bass from 1997. Are you sure you’ve locked the right coordinates into the navigation system, Captain Clements?

I think this incongruous sample is the reason The Elements is my least-remembered tune on the whole album-not-album (look, we’ve discussed this). Which makes it all the more joyous to be reminded that The Elements, once it gets past its distinctly unpromising first 70 seconds, is actually one of the best tracks of the lot. So many drum ‘n bass hacks out there would have looped those 70 seconds, thrown in a mournful trumpet sample and some third-hand soul diva vocal over the top, sat back and sparked up. But not ASC! Instead he mutates the coffee table into a sublime cyborg symphony of fluttering melodies, topped off with a delightfully suggestive vocal sample.

Blueprint doesn’t quite rewire the hackneyed so unexpectedly, but once again the intro, dextrous as those breaks may be, doesn’t even begin to hint at what’s to come. Within minutes Clements is layering galactic synth washes, bleeped-out melodic transmissions and electro-tinged robo-bass into something that’s dnb but also so much more.

Listening to these tracks with my critical faculties fully engaged and a desperate need to pad out word count looming over me, I can hear more than ever how ASC takes the tropes of atmospheric drum ‘n bass, which let’s face it was running distinctly short of ideas even in 2008, and splices them with the genes of ambient, IDM, film score and just sheer sci-fi sonic wizardry to push the boundaries of the genre into uncharted quadrants of deep space.

Okay, I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking that I don’t know what you’re thinking and that I’m just using a cheap rhetorical trick. But you’re also thinking that I’m over-hyping this shit, aren’t you? Well maybe I am. As a sci-fi sucker who originally fell in love with electronic music because it sounded like the future I wanted to live in, I’m definitely the target audience here. But if you like music that stirs the imagination, that paints pictures behind your eyelids, that forces adjective-strapped music-journos to wheel out the hoary old one about “the soundtrack to a movie that doesn’t exist”, then don’t read another word of my blather and run instead to the nearest music-streaming service, cue this whole thing up start to finish and then tell me I’m over-hyping this shit.

Just don’t search for “The Sci-Fi Files”. Only an idiot would do that.

ASC - Sci-Files Volume Four (Jack Moss Review)

Covert Operations Recordings: 2008

(note: reading five reviews of ironclad word count detailing so little music grows boring, so spicing things up is a different voice, Jack Moss, my old writing partner at TranceCritic. He knows these EPs more intimately than I as it is. Also, check out his blog for more of his reviews, even if it's currently on hiatus)


When someone asks me what my favourite album is, I usually tell them it’s The Sci-Files by ASC. This is despite the fact:

1. The Sci-Files isn’t actually an album at all, but rather a series of EPs.
2. I don’t even actually own the series in its entirety.
3. I’d actually been erroneously calling it “The Sci-Fi Files” for years, right up ‘til Sykonee commissioned me to write this here review and used its proper name.

This isn’t out of sheer hipster point-scoring (“My favourite album? It doesn’t actually exist as an album”) but rather because The Sci-Files is an album in all but the trifling technicalities of how it was actually released. ASC originally wanted a lavish series of vinyl releases before the woes of his label Covert Operations forced him to abandon the plan and relegate his masterwork to a poxy series of MP3 releases. Imagine that gorgeous artwork in a series of themed 12” sleeves. You bet your ass I’d own the full series if that had happened, and I don’t even own a turntable. But it didn’t happen, and so I was free to collate the series on a Spotify playlist and play it through just like an album without ever having to pay for each individual track.

[Painful pseudo-intellectual amateur music-journo angle about playlists being the new albums sold separately.]

Anyway, the point is that The Sci-Files plays through like an album, and a fucking brilliant album at that, an album with a subtly varied but remarkably vivid and consistent mood, an album that explores the realms of pre-Autonomic experimental atmospheric ambient drum ‘n space as though that were an actual assured genre and not some nonsense adjectives I’ve just flung together. So to extract two tracks from the middle of this album-not-album and talk about them as an EP just feels hopelessly incomplete. Because how can you stop at just two tracks?

But stop there we must. So what have we got on Volume Four? There’s First Snow, which is actually one of the most conventional cuts out of the whole series. Despite its desolately inhospitable atmospherics and pleasingly over-dramatic percussive avalanches it’s not a million miles away from the kind of glistening frosty atmospheric jungle that, say, Alaska has been doing for decades. As far as desolate, inhospitable percussive avalanches go it’s still a blinding tune though.

Holosphere, on the other hand... This is the kind of tune that makes The Sci-Files so special. It’s drum ‘n bass alright, but not as we know it, Jim. The spacious, tech-y drum programming might just be some of James Clements’ finest rhythmic work and the bassline rends and tears at your subs like your head is being dragged through a wormhole. And the atmospherics, my God. ASC has a tendency of late to lapse into an over-explored seam of murky glitched dystopia, but Holosphere tickles your mind’s eye with visions of an uninhabited alien landscape, bleak but unimaginably beautiful.

Top shit, basically.