ADNY - Selections: 1997-2000

Turbo Recordings: 2000

A significant CD in Turbo Recordings' history, this was the label's first ever spotlight on a single producer. I'm hesitant to call this an album though, as ADNY already had such an LP to his name, released the year prior on Plastic City. I suppose that one - The Way Eye See - wasn't technically an ADNY album either, placing his name alongside a “Presents Leiva” credit, but it's all the same guy anyway, Mr. Alexi Delano. He's worked under a few aliases over the years too, including A.D.1010 for Harthouse Mannheim during the mid-'00s, and earlier as Bob Brewthbaker. Yeah, he's another European who made house music with an American-sounding pseudonym – what do you expect from a resident of Plastic City (home of Terry Lee Brown, Jr. and The Timewriter, yo').

Long time Turbo (and Tiga!) fans might be asking, “Wait, what’s all this ‘house music’ you speak of with regards to the label? Aren’t they known for electroclash and trashy acid techno?” To which I first reply, “Haven’t you read any of my prior Turbo reviews?” Or secondly: “Huh, guess you aren’t that long of a Turbo fan.” But to reiterate for my umpteenth time, Tiga’s label That Could got its start in the realms of fashionable house and techno, a dash of electro thrown in for the occasional spicing (or a drum ‘n’ bass tangent because Montreal nepotism). Among the earliest hits of any sort for Turbo came care of two ADNY cuts, Dreaming and his remix for Universal Tongues & DKMA’s Shiver Me, which I’m almost certain I’ve talked about before because they featured on several mixes and compilations.

So let’s instead focus on the remaining ten tracks selected for ADNY’s Selections: 1997-2000. First off, none of these appeared on that Plastic City album, so no sign of repeats here. As far as I (and Lord Discogs) can tell, these are previously unreleased tunes, with a few smatterings of vinyl cuts from other licensed labels. It provides a nice assortment of house vibes then, never settling for the some ol’ thing over and over (though I wouldn’t mind that from Shiver Me, no sir).

Primarily we’re in the deep end of soulful house, though with more of a thick, tribal East coast groove than the style Naked Music and OM Records were churning out at the time. And what deep house tune isn’t complete without some additional musicianship thrown in, whether some xylophone tones (I’m Still Here), brass section licks (What If I Love), or smooth vocal come-ons (Never Leave You, ICU). Elsewhere, ADNY stretches his muse to incorporate a little slow-jam synth-pop (Desierto de Atacama) and voxed-out Balearic bliss (Precious Lady).

Is Selections: 1997-2000 an essential addition to your deep house collection? Probably not, as there’s oodles of the stuff for grabs out there. Still, Tiga had an ear ADNY, and if you have faith in the Montreal tastemaker’s, um, taste, you know he wouldn’t steer you wrong here either.

Aphex Twin - Selected Ambient Works Volume II

Sire Records Company: 1994

For many out there, this was their first Aphex Twin album. Mine too, in fact, though I bought it along with …I Care Because You Do and Richard D. James Album - when you’re diving into the Aphex’d one’s catalog, there’s no sense half-assing it, right? Selected Ambient Works Volume II was most fans’ first LP experience with the man from the lands of Cornish though, thanks in no small part to the abundance of recommendations it continuously received. Liked that droning ambient track off Radiohead’s Kid A? SAW II. Want more music like Boards Of Canada? SAW II. Need to complete your Very Important Ambient Albums collection? SAW II. Curious about Aphex Twin but hate ‘techno’ beats? Come To Daddy EP.

The internet has no shortage of metaphoric write-ups and poetic praise gushed upon this double-LP. Hell, I recall a PR blurb on the wrapping stating something like “if the Monolith from 2001 could make music, it’d sound like this album”, which is about as pretentious an assessment of droning ambience as you can get. Couple that with packaging that screams “THIS ARE ART!” (non-titles, abstract track depictions), and you’ve an album from the ‘rave ranks’ highly instrumental in electronic music’s continued ascent into credible discourse.

Not that it’s undeserved. The compositions crafted across these two CDs truly are remarkable in their bizarre, warped approach to tones and timbres. You often do feel like you’re navigating realms of the outworld, occasionally brought back to an earthly grounding only to be charted off to alien dreamscapes shortly after. At times Mr. James creates pieces of such lovely, soothing calm, you feel like being wrapped in a warm blanket of sonic bliss (Cliffs, Rhubarb, Lichen, Z Twig). Other times he’ll drag you through weird scenery, images distorted into lucid abstractions (Spots, White Blur 2, Radiator, Domino, Grass, Parallel Strips, Curtains, Tree). Some tracks offer a guiding rhythm, and thus a bit more structure to the proceedings (Blue Calx, Shiny Metal Rods, Blur, Hexagon, Weathered Stone). And in a few more pieces, it sounds like the Aphex’d one is just messing around with sounds and effects for their own sake, getting his musique concrete on because why not (White Blur 1, Grey Strip, Tassels). Yes, I’m referring to these compositions by their assumptive picture names – it’s easier that way.

Selected Ambient Works Volume II can seem a daunting excursion for some, a two-hour plus dive into various sonic doodles with no real rhyme or reason for their being. No doubt a few of the ultra-abstract sorts could have been jettisoned while lengthier pieces shortened. And yet, despite some tracks not sticking to my brain matter as memorably as others, I can’t imagine this album as less than its current sum. There’s honestly enough variety across twenty-four works (twenty-five for vinyl enthusiasts, lucky bastards) that you’re constantly engaged by each piece, just to hear where Aphex goes next with it. No wonder everyone keeps hoping for Selected Ambient Works Volume 3.

ACE TRACKS: June 2013

Oh hey, it’s another throwback ACE TRACKS playlist that coincides with the month it’s being made in. Probably the final time that’ll happen too, though maybe the possibility exists things will line up again in October, if I slack off on these enough. Since it took almost no time putting this one together (you’ll see why), I could have posted it earlier this month, but I felt it best doing this now, just before leaving for a two week holiday. Where else would I announce such a thing, eh?


Full track list here.

Missing Albums:
Various - Global Underground: Paul Oakenfold - Live In Oslo
Various - Global Underground 003: Sasha - San Francisco
Various - Global Underground 014: John Digweed - Hong Kong
Various - Global Underground 29: Sharam - Dubai
Del Tha Funkee Homosapien - Golden Era
Various - Goa Trance – Psychedelic Flashbacks
Various - Goa Trance – Psychedelic Flashbacks 2
Various - Goa Spirit 3

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 31%
Percentage Of Rock: 0%
Most “WTF?” Track: ICP. Always ICP.

Well, this was one seriously nerfed playlist. June of two years past was already a lean month for reviews to start with, what with so many double, triple, and quadruple CD releases. Then there’s the lack of old Global Underground material on Spotify, so many classics of the progressive era now lost to a generation of online streamers. Why must you make us seek alternative methods of hearing your CDs, defunct labels of the past? Then you got way obscure psy-trance, though much of which is best left forgotten anyway. Surprised Del’s Golden Age wasn’t available on the Spots tho’ – guess he likes keeping his shit proper underground that way.

So that leaves with very little left, less than two hours worth of music. Almost wasn’t worth making a playlist for, but whenever else will you get to hear Canadian conscious hip-hop, ancient goa trance, and Oliver Lieb all in the same short span of time?

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.