Turbo Recordings: 2001
Way back in the long ago time, when Lord Discogs had yet to achieve its deity prominence among all things electronic music databased, Chris Duckenfield was as mysterious to me as the planet Pluto (woo, timely namedrop!). For the longest time, this lone mix on Turbo Recordings was his only entry, baffling a decade-younger Sykonee to no end. Why had Tiga tapped this virtual unknown for a DJ mix? After scouring Scandinavia, what prompted him commissioning a jock from the UK? Who on Earth was Chris Duckenfield, and what relationship did he have with the Montreal label? How has a guy with such a class mix CD on the market gone so unnoticed? Is he just some Sheffield local with a die-hard following, or has he done anything else of note, even in his native country? And why is there some screwy mixing going on in this set?
To answer that last question, the track indexing on this CD is gibbled. The mix from #9 occurs at #11, plays as normal through #12, while the expectant mix from there has already blown by at #10. I’d give titles but with things as wonk as they are, I haven’t a clue which is what, though I can definitely confirm that Symbiosis’ Oxygen is a mint cut within all this. Was it just my copy of Sheffield Mix Sessions with this error though? If not, poor form, Turbo, I trusted you. Chris Duckenfield trusted you!
Okay, back to Mr. Duckenfield. Despite Vassal Discogs not having much info in 2003, ol’ Chris’ profile has filled out nicely since those dark days. He’s apparently been around since the early rave days, producing along with Richard Benson as RAC, releasing an album on Warp in their formative years. Following that he teamed up with Richard Brown (Chris loves his Richards) to form Swag and release two LPs and a bundle of EPs to this day. Then there’s a ceaseless DJ career, and my mind boggles as to why Sheffield Mix Sessions remains his lone entry. Did Tiga have to twist Chris’ arm to even get this out of him? Man, they could have at least offered a snappy bio in the CD’s inlay.
As for this mix, we get ourselves a good ol’ deep session of house music direct from the tasteful times of 2001. The opening portion features names like Nigel Hayes, Jazzanova, and Morgan Geist, with a vibe that’ll have you itching to cruise out in a Mitsubishi. And even with a fucked-up track index, the middle portion of Chris’ mix is still good funky, deep tech-house fun. The final sequence goes for the tribal dub business that was quite popular with the serious house heads of the time, and would sadly fall out of favour when all things minimal became the norm. Hmm, I wonder if Duckenfield fell in lockstep with that trend too. Considering he released a 2006 single called Modern House Is Rubbish under his Duckbeats alias, I suspect not.
Wednesday, July 15, 2015
Tuesday, July 14, 2015
Juno Reactor - Shango
Metropolis: 2000
Shango is about as transitional an album as a transitional album can get. Not that we were aware of it back when Juno Reactor dropped his fifth LP in the year 2000, though one could definitely suspect Ben Watkins leaving his psy trance legacy in the dust. Bible Of Dreams already hinted at a muse looking for new roads to travel, fresh genres to explore. Maybe he'd start dabbling in that burgeoning psy dub thing, or take a stab at another ambient concept album. Ooh, industrial rock and big beat is still popular, especially with movie soundtracks – why not make a few tunes geared for TVT's latest cyberpunk thriller?
I don’t know about that, but hearing some of his Bible cuts featured in movies and video games must have given Mr. Watkins a shot of inspiration, envisioning his music in cinematic terms rather than outdoor party fodder. It's the only explanation I have for opening Shango with a track stampeding out of a Robert Rodriguez grindhouse Western. Pistolero's got the flamenco guitars, Mexican samples, bank robberies, and a ton of energy to spare, desperado rhythms furiously galloping across the arid lands of Chihuahua. No matter what you thought Juno Reactor might bring to this album, I highly doubt anyone figured it'd be something as off the dusty trail as Pistolero.
And then he changes gears straight after with Hule Lam, a collaboration with long-time South African traditionalist troupe Amampondo that goes deep into the tribal conga fury. Er, I honestly don't know which African ethnicity they draw their music from, though this song was oddly featured in a dancing mini-game tie-in to the movie Madagascar 2. Wait, what? Talk about licensing to the extreme. I hope none of the kids vibing on Hule Lam checked out the rest of Shango, only to have the fierce, terrifying meditative Badimo assault their senses shortly after.
If you're getting a feeling of musical whiplash with these descriptions, fret not for that's one of the problems with Shango as an album. Masters Of The Universe marks the midpoint of the album, and it’s the closest thing to a tear-out psy trance outing you’ll find. Following that are two versions of Nitrogen, the first having a lending hand from Orb members Alex Paterson and Greg Hunter for a thumping dubbed-out excursion, the second more of a conventional industrial-trance tune (with some mint drum fills thrown in throughout!). And while you can always count on a nice ambient closure on most albums, Shango ends with two, neither having much to do with each other. Solaris is a dark ambient outing with chants and such, while Song Of Ancestors comes off like the credits sequence to whatever movie Watkins had in mind for Pistolero.
That’s Shango in a nutshell: an LP with many great ideas and cool tunes, but little holding it together. Come Labyrinth, Watkins would tie his inspirations into cohesive whole, but here he’s figuring out just how far he can take Juno Reactor.
Shango is about as transitional an album as a transitional album can get. Not that we were aware of it back when Juno Reactor dropped his fifth LP in the year 2000, though one could definitely suspect Ben Watkins leaving his psy trance legacy in the dust. Bible Of Dreams already hinted at a muse looking for new roads to travel, fresh genres to explore. Maybe he'd start dabbling in that burgeoning psy dub thing, or take a stab at another ambient concept album. Ooh, industrial rock and big beat is still popular, especially with movie soundtracks – why not make a few tunes geared for TVT's latest cyberpunk thriller?
I don’t know about that, but hearing some of his Bible cuts featured in movies and video games must have given Mr. Watkins a shot of inspiration, envisioning his music in cinematic terms rather than outdoor party fodder. It's the only explanation I have for opening Shango with a track stampeding out of a Robert Rodriguez grindhouse Western. Pistolero's got the flamenco guitars, Mexican samples, bank robberies, and a ton of energy to spare, desperado rhythms furiously galloping across the arid lands of Chihuahua. No matter what you thought Juno Reactor might bring to this album, I highly doubt anyone figured it'd be something as off the dusty trail as Pistolero.
And then he changes gears straight after with Hule Lam, a collaboration with long-time South African traditionalist troupe Amampondo that goes deep into the tribal conga fury. Er, I honestly don't know which African ethnicity they draw their music from, though this song was oddly featured in a dancing mini-game tie-in to the movie Madagascar 2. Wait, what? Talk about licensing to the extreme. I hope none of the kids vibing on Hule Lam checked out the rest of Shango, only to have the fierce, terrifying meditative Badimo assault their senses shortly after.
If you're getting a feeling of musical whiplash with these descriptions, fret not for that's one of the problems with Shango as an album. Masters Of The Universe marks the midpoint of the album, and it’s the closest thing to a tear-out psy trance outing you’ll find. Following that are two versions of Nitrogen, the first having a lending hand from Orb members Alex Paterson and Greg Hunter for a thumping dubbed-out excursion, the second more of a conventional industrial-trance tune (with some mint drum fills thrown in throughout!). And while you can always count on a nice ambient closure on most albums, Shango ends with two, neither having much to do with each other. Solaris is a dark ambient outing with chants and such, while Song Of Ancestors comes off like the credits sequence to whatever movie Watkins had in mind for Pistolero.
That’s Shango in a nutshell: an LP with many great ideas and cool tunes, but little holding it together. Come Labyrinth, Watkins would tie his inspirations into cohesive whole, but here he’s figuring out just how far he can take Juno Reactor.
Labels:
2000,
album,
breaks,
dark ambient,
Juno Reactor,
Metropolis,
psy trance,
tribal
Saturday, July 11, 2015
Various - Shadow: Hed Sessions 2
Shadow Records: 2002
What's that, you say? You don't care about Shadow Records' genre explorations and just want to kick back with some down low funky urban vibes? First off, props to you for being that dedicated to defunct label to even have developed such standards. I didn't even know y'all existed out there. Hell, I was surprised to find any Shadowheads even when they were in business. Folks knew of them, sure, but more as an outlet for older releases from Ninja Tune, DJ Cam, or Kruder & Dorfmeister – only hardcore fans of trip-hop and jazz-funk gave the label's massive extended roster much notice, and even then plenty of names slipped through the cracks. Goo needs more love, yo'!
Where was I going with this? Oh, right Hed Sessions. This was the sort of compilation that served Shadow Records best, focusing on the sound that made the label’s breaded butter while throwing the spotlight on acts that had fallen through the downtempo cracks. Hell, given the massive size of the that scene and all its variant genres (trip-hop, illbient, acid jazz, nu-jazz, dub, funk-fusion, abstract-step, sprockets), it’s more of a chasm than a crack producers could disappear down. Forget the obsessive techno collectors, I’d like to see someone gather all there is in this field of electronic music!
The first Hed Sessions did as the Hard Sessions did with two tracks per five selected artists. Hed Sessions 2 mixes things up a little by drawing upon more artists instead. There’s also a repeat from the previous volume, in that Saru (Steve Branson) appears again, though in remixed form. Wait, Subterra already was remixed on Hed Sessions, and now we get another remix of that track in Hed Sessions 2? Damn, pimp your own acts much, Shadow? Whatever, the dubbed out version of Suck In Love’s good stuff. Why am I talking about Hed Sessions as though I’ve already reviewed it?
By the by, Blend is on here thrice. Once offering a remix of Greg Long’s Economic Freedom, and getting remixed himself by DJ DRM in Addicted and Greg Long for All That Dub. Ah, a little ‘I remix you, you remix me’ action going on here. And for the love of dub, I hope y’all remember me mentioning Blend some twenty months ago (!) – his Echo Warrior album is exactly the sort of thing I was blabbering on about above there.
Other tracks on Hed Sessions 2 include trip-groove hoppin’ Goldiggin’ from Cordovan, jazz-funk hop of Banana Jazz Hop from Toye, floating jazz-dub vibes of Nikita’s Dream from Swirlbent, and space ‘n’ spliff turntable action of Darkness from Raging Family. If you recognize most these names, you either know them personally, or already have this CD, because this is literally the only place Lord Discogs recognizes them. Still, though walking the same paths Mo’Wax and Ninja Tune had long treaded, these are all fine tunes, definitely deserving of more exposure even if the artists aren’t around any longer.
What's that, you say? You don't care about Shadow Records' genre explorations and just want to kick back with some down low funky urban vibes? First off, props to you for being that dedicated to defunct label to even have developed such standards. I didn't even know y'all existed out there. Hell, I was surprised to find any Shadowheads even when they were in business. Folks knew of them, sure, but more as an outlet for older releases from Ninja Tune, DJ Cam, or Kruder & Dorfmeister – only hardcore fans of trip-hop and jazz-funk gave the label's massive extended roster much notice, and even then plenty of names slipped through the cracks. Goo needs more love, yo'!
Where was I going with this? Oh, right Hed Sessions. This was the sort of compilation that served Shadow Records best, focusing on the sound that made the label’s breaded butter while throwing the spotlight on acts that had fallen through the downtempo cracks. Hell, given the massive size of the that scene and all its variant genres (trip-hop, illbient, acid jazz, nu-jazz, dub, funk-fusion, abstract-step, sprockets), it’s more of a chasm than a crack producers could disappear down. Forget the obsessive techno collectors, I’d like to see someone gather all there is in this field of electronic music!
The first Hed Sessions did as the Hard Sessions did with two tracks per five selected artists. Hed Sessions 2 mixes things up a little by drawing upon more artists instead. There’s also a repeat from the previous volume, in that Saru (Steve Branson) appears again, though in remixed form. Wait, Subterra already was remixed on Hed Sessions, and now we get another remix of that track in Hed Sessions 2? Damn, pimp your own acts much, Shadow? Whatever, the dubbed out version of Suck In Love’s good stuff. Why am I talking about Hed Sessions as though I’ve already reviewed it?
By the by, Blend is on here thrice. Once offering a remix of Greg Long’s Economic Freedom, and getting remixed himself by DJ DRM in Addicted and Greg Long for All That Dub. Ah, a little ‘I remix you, you remix me’ action going on here. And for the love of dub, I hope y’all remember me mentioning Blend some twenty months ago (!) – his Echo Warrior album is exactly the sort of thing I was blabbering on about above there.
Other tracks on Hed Sessions 2 include trip-groove hoppin’ Goldiggin’ from Cordovan, jazz-funk hop of Banana Jazz Hop from Toye, floating jazz-dub vibes of Nikita’s Dream from Swirlbent, and space ‘n’ spliff turntable action of Darkness from Raging Family. If you recognize most these names, you either know them personally, or already have this CD, because this is literally the only place Lord Discogs recognizes them. Still, though walking the same paths Mo’Wax and Ninja Tune had long treaded, these are all fine tunes, definitely deserving of more exposure even if the artists aren’t around any longer.
Labels:
2002,
acid jazz,
Compilation,
downtempo,
dub,
funk,
Shadow Records,
trip-hop
Friday, July 10, 2015
Various - Shadow: Hard Sessions
Shadow Records: 2001
When Shadow Records started their big push out of underground obscurity, they knew more markets than their traditional blazed-out audience needed attention. Fine and all continuing the promotion of trip-hop, illbient (aka: trippier hop), and abstract jazz funk, but geez, look at all the bank house, trance, and techno was making too. It wouldn't hurt to dabble a little in those scenes, would it? No, not at all. Just set up a couple new compilation series as an introduction, offer them up at a reduced rate to entice the curious, and scour the lands of America for talent interested in a record deal. Search high and low for them too, oh Shadow lords, even the backwaters of northwestern British Columbia (yes, this did happen!).
Hard Sessions was set up as the label's showcase of the more aggressive acts within Shadowland’s sphere of interest. While mostly overlooked d'n'b (though ASC makes an early career appearance in Hard Sessions 2!), in a move that surprised many, this first volume features techno from Dietrich Schoenemann, a veteran of the ambient and experimental circuit. He'd released material on Shadow's ambient parent label Instinct, so it's not like ol' Diets was a complete unknown, but what's he doing here on Hard Sessions? For that matter, what's he doing offering up head-down pulsing techno workouts with his two tracks here, Dark Sight and Autumn Ground? The former thumps with all the minimalist fury of a Jeff Mills cut, and the latter goes for the dark, tribal jugular of a 4am bender in a dank warehouse. It’s not the hard, bangin’ shit, but it’s solid stuff, and totally at odds with everything else on Hard Sessions. Hey, I appreciate Shadow’s attempt at subjecting die-hard junglists to something outside their comfort zone, but maybe an entirely different compilation dedicated to techno would have been a better option.
Including the two Dietrich cuts, ten tracks make up this compilation, two per artist. The artists range from the highly prolific to the hopelessly obscure. For instance, Hard Sessions opens with smooth flowing tech-step ofSo Dark Now from Magnetic, or David Harrow to Lord Discogs. He had two albums on Shadow Records, plus a few more LPs following that label’s folding. Then there’s the other work David Harrow’s accomplished as High Stepper, Technova, Oicho... holy cow, does this guy have a huge discography! Then there’s Illform (Quentin Allen), who only released but one album of d’n’b with Shadow, though had a little more success with deep house as Karu after. Quite a contrast there, mang’.
Hanna, another prolific producer, provides more d’n’b with a jazzy bent, while weirdo cybernetic, abstract, broken-jungle one-shot group Droid rounds out the rest. No, really, I can’t think of any other way to describe Droid. It’s like Amon Tobin’s more spastic moments fed through a Detroit jazz factory. Worth a listen just to believe. So is Hard Sessions too, if you ever stumble upon it on the cheap. Discover a few great producers in the process!
When Shadow Records started their big push out of underground obscurity, they knew more markets than their traditional blazed-out audience needed attention. Fine and all continuing the promotion of trip-hop, illbient (aka: trippier hop), and abstract jazz funk, but geez, look at all the bank house, trance, and techno was making too. It wouldn't hurt to dabble a little in those scenes, would it? No, not at all. Just set up a couple new compilation series as an introduction, offer them up at a reduced rate to entice the curious, and scour the lands of America for talent interested in a record deal. Search high and low for them too, oh Shadow lords, even the backwaters of northwestern British Columbia (yes, this did happen!).
Hard Sessions was set up as the label's showcase of the more aggressive acts within Shadowland’s sphere of interest. While mostly overlooked d'n'b (though ASC makes an early career appearance in Hard Sessions 2!), in a move that surprised many, this first volume features techno from Dietrich Schoenemann, a veteran of the ambient and experimental circuit. He'd released material on Shadow's ambient parent label Instinct, so it's not like ol' Diets was a complete unknown, but what's he doing here on Hard Sessions? For that matter, what's he doing offering up head-down pulsing techno workouts with his two tracks here, Dark Sight and Autumn Ground? The former thumps with all the minimalist fury of a Jeff Mills cut, and the latter goes for the dark, tribal jugular of a 4am bender in a dank warehouse. It’s not the hard, bangin’ shit, but it’s solid stuff, and totally at odds with everything else on Hard Sessions. Hey, I appreciate Shadow’s attempt at subjecting die-hard junglists to something outside their comfort zone, but maybe an entirely different compilation dedicated to techno would have been a better option.
Including the two Dietrich cuts, ten tracks make up this compilation, two per artist. The artists range from the highly prolific to the hopelessly obscure. For instance, Hard Sessions opens with smooth flowing tech-step ofSo Dark Now from Magnetic, or David Harrow to Lord Discogs. He had two albums on Shadow Records, plus a few more LPs following that label’s folding. Then there’s the other work David Harrow’s accomplished as High Stepper, Technova, Oicho... holy cow, does this guy have a huge discography! Then there’s Illform (Quentin Allen), who only released but one album of d’n’b with Shadow, though had a little more success with deep house as Karu after. Quite a contrast there, mang’.
Hanna, another prolific producer, provides more d’n’b with a jazzy bent, while weirdo cybernetic, abstract, broken-jungle one-shot group Droid rounds out the rest. No, really, I can’t think of any other way to describe Droid. It’s like Amon Tobin’s more spastic moments fed through a Detroit jazz factory. Worth a listen just to believe. So is Hard Sessions too, if you ever stumble upon it on the cheap. Discover a few great producers in the process!
Thursday, July 9, 2015
The Beatles - Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band
Parlaphone: 1967/2009
The only Beatles album you’re supposed to have, even if you’re not much of a Beatles fan. If you’re a totally predictable, cliché music collector anyway. Most folks don’t bother with the albums, getting any number of the greatest hits packages for their Beatles fix and calling it a day. Sgt. Pepper’s though, we’re told is a must have, an essential have, resting at the peak of a rock ‘n’ roll mountain of Very Important Albums. So get it folks do, because why not, it’s got cool songs on it like A Little Help From My Friends, Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds, and the epic A Day In The Life. I think everybody’s day should end with a massive piano chord slowly ebbing away as sleep takes you over.
Yet I wonder how many actually play the whole album through. Any Beatles fanatic obviously does – to not indulge their concept LP in its entirety is punishable by eternal Yoko yodeling. Do casuals have much care for George Harrison’s complete dive into Indian meditation music in Within You Without You though? Do the screaming fangirls of yore suddenly fantasize becoming a meter-maid, thus wooing the fancy of McCartney in Lovely Rita? Did a bunch of starry-eyed hippies marvel at the production ingenuity of carnival funfair ode Being For The Benefit Of Mr. Kite? I somehow suspect not, Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band faring no better than any other number of Beatles albums of their studio era. This album has a massive gap between songs everyone knows intimately, and songs folks would have trouble identifying as part as one of the rock music’s most beloved records. “Oh yeah, Fixing A Hole’s totally a Beatles tune, it’s off one of those white albums, right?”
I know I’m dodging a proper review of Sgt. Pepper’s, but my analysis is moot. The record is almost a half-century old, and is so thoroughly dissected by music historians, the only original angle I can offer is anecdotal. Speaking of, my road trip with my old man gave me a chance to pick his brain about many things music related, including this album he insisted we bring. He was a young teenager then, swept in by Sgt. Pepper’s unique vision, realizing the possibilities of what rock music could achieve. I can appreciate Sgt. Pepper’s impact on those terms too (plus, y’know, just vibe on all the great tunes), but to hear it described as a game-changer from someone who was actually there when the album first dropped, a wistful look in his eyes at remembering how all the old rules were shattered, does give it a fresh perspective. She’s Leaving Home’s just a nice, mellow song on a good album to my ears, but is remarkably poignant to his.
Other bands might have shown potential to do what The Beatles did with Sgt. Pepper’s, but the Liverpool Four had the access to top-end studio gear, work ethic, and commercial clout to realize such a vision first.
The only Beatles album you’re supposed to have, even if you’re not much of a Beatles fan. If you’re a totally predictable, cliché music collector anyway. Most folks don’t bother with the albums, getting any number of the greatest hits packages for their Beatles fix and calling it a day. Sgt. Pepper’s though, we’re told is a must have, an essential have, resting at the peak of a rock ‘n’ roll mountain of Very Important Albums. So get it folks do, because why not, it’s got cool songs on it like A Little Help From My Friends, Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds, and the epic A Day In The Life. I think everybody’s day should end with a massive piano chord slowly ebbing away as sleep takes you over.
Yet I wonder how many actually play the whole album through. Any Beatles fanatic obviously does – to not indulge their concept LP in its entirety is punishable by eternal Yoko yodeling. Do casuals have much care for George Harrison’s complete dive into Indian meditation music in Within You Without You though? Do the screaming fangirls of yore suddenly fantasize becoming a meter-maid, thus wooing the fancy of McCartney in Lovely Rita? Did a bunch of starry-eyed hippies marvel at the production ingenuity of carnival funfair ode Being For The Benefit Of Mr. Kite? I somehow suspect not, Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band faring no better than any other number of Beatles albums of their studio era. This album has a massive gap between songs everyone knows intimately, and songs folks would have trouble identifying as part as one of the rock music’s most beloved records. “Oh yeah, Fixing A Hole’s totally a Beatles tune, it’s off one of those white albums, right?”
I know I’m dodging a proper review of Sgt. Pepper’s, but my analysis is moot. The record is almost a half-century old, and is so thoroughly dissected by music historians, the only original angle I can offer is anecdotal. Speaking of, my road trip with my old man gave me a chance to pick his brain about many things music related, including this album he insisted we bring. He was a young teenager then, swept in by Sgt. Pepper’s unique vision, realizing the possibilities of what rock music could achieve. I can appreciate Sgt. Pepper’s impact on those terms too (plus, y’know, just vibe on all the great tunes), but to hear it described as a game-changer from someone who was actually there when the album first dropped, a wistful look in his eyes at remembering how all the old rules were shattered, does give it a fresh perspective. She’s Leaving Home’s just a nice, mellow song on a good album to my ears, but is remarkably poignant to his.
Other bands might have shown potential to do what The Beatles did with Sgt. Pepper’s, but the Liverpool Four had the access to top-end studio gear, work ethic, and commercial clout to realize such a vision first.
Labels:
1967,
album,
classic rock,
Parlaphone,
pop,
psychedelia,
The Beatles
Wednesday, July 8, 2015
Atomic Hooligan - Sex, Drugs And Blah, Blah, Blah (Original TC Review)
Botchit & Scarper: 2008
(2015 Update:
I've made no secret real life events often have an effect on my initial impressions of albums - times when I've felt mighty low have resulted in some rather cranky-ass reviews in the past. On the flipside, overly positive reviews for unexpected items have occurred during happy funtime months, and I sometimes wonder if such was the case in Atomic Hooligan's second LP. There are things here that, by all rights, should have pissed off 2008 Sykonee, including the sounds in Electro Ain't Electro, yet I gave it all a pass, instead praising the UK duo throughout. Oh, right, it's because that song totally called out my jaded presumptions on electro house, and Atomic Hooligan deserve all the props for that. It also doesn't hurt that Sex, Drugs And Blah, Blah, Blah honestly is good, holding up remarkably well for such a trend-jumpy album. Shame it didn't do much for Atomic Hooligan's career.
Seriously, following this, their Discogian profile dries up, and Last.fm doesn't offer much else either. They toured a little in the years after, managed two forgotten singles in 2010, and a fun, recent single called Bass Crazy, but that's mighty sparse pickings for a duo that seemed primed for a lengthy, successful career. It's baffling, but maybe 'breaks-apathy' really did do them in for a while there. Well, breaks are making a small comeback, so no more excuses, Atomic Hooligan!)
IN BRIEF: Don’t let breaks-apathy hold you back.
Far be it of Misters Welch and Ryan allowing genre-pigeonholing to stand in the way of ambition. Even though they shared the same label with breaks-for-life names like Freq Nasty and B.L.I.M., these Atomic Hooligans were determined to produce a debut album that threw plenty of musical influences into the mixing bowl, settling for nothing less than a breakbeat long-player that could be enjoyed by all. They succeeded too, with You Are Here enjoying proper nods of approval from press and breaks fans. One problem though: no one else seemed to care.
Was it being tied to label Botchit & Scarper that hobbled their potential success? Possibly, as You Are Here never left the realms of the UK for wider distribution. Or perhaps the breaks stigma was just far too strong to shake off; despite strong followings of fans scattered about the globe, there hasn’t been much interest in the genre for years now. Whatever the reason, were you to ask a regular clubber how that new album Drugs, Sex & Blah Blah Blah is, you’ll more than likely be met with a puzzled look and the reply of, “Atomic Hoo’s-it’s-now?”
Or maybe not. As said, Atomic Hooligan are an ambitious duo, and they aren’t about to let a little thing like breaks-apathy prevent them from firing off an album that should hold them in the same league as The Chemical Brothers and Bassment Jaxx. There’s plenty on this here release that will easily appeal to a broad listener base, provided they have it within their feet to get wild and crazy when the party starts.
Fact is Welch and Ryan are excellent producers. No sonic space on this album feels like it’s gone to waste, with rhythms, melodies, and harmonies complementing each other in wonderful ways. Every guest vocalist - and there are plenty - is part-and-parcel to the track they appear on, seldom sounding out-of-sorts. Tracks are loose and fast, with none of the soul-stripping overproduction traps other studio experts oftentimes fall into. And yet nothing ever comes off messy or jumbled, but rather a kind of ordered chaos; Atomic Hooligan display a fine sense of just what it takes to get crowds worked up into a frenzy.
Take lead single Papercuts: it’s everything that a killer cut of breaks should be. The basslines are forceful and catchy, the vocals soulful and sassy, and the supporting layers add gusto to spare. Granted, the more ‘farty’ bits may have the naysayers rolling their eyes but chances are such folk aren’t terribly into the whole breaks vibe to begin with. Other party jams like Dirty, grimier Spread Good Vibes, and instrumentals Who’s Ya Daddy Now? and Weed are just as effective.
Then there’s the psychedelic edge to much of this album. Whether instrumental (er, Weed again), rockier cuts like Safeguard, big-band funk like Blah Blah Blah, or sun-kissed summer festival moments like closer Too Late To Be Afriad, you get the feeling Welch and Ryan had ‘60s hedonism in mind when letting their influences guide them through.
At the same time, though, they realized they have to appeal to modern tastes if they’ll get any kind of recognition beyond the breaks faithful. As a result, we have disco punk (I Don’t Care), nu-electro house (Electro Ain’t Electro), and riot-grrl rawk (Thief) scattered about. Honestly, these aren’t bad offerings of their respective styles - Electro Ain’t Electro is definitely a welcome surprise, easily one of the better examples of ‘fart’ house I’ve heard in some time (having tongue-in-cheek lyrics going “Electro ain’t electro no more / We don’t care, get your ass on the floor” certainly helps). Unfortunately, they also scream of trend-jumping, and will effectively date this album once these musical fads have passed. Hmm., well, perhaps not so much Thief, as it has more in common with Fat Of The Land-era Prodigy than anything current. Still, such tracks will most likely impede long-term enjoyment for the casual listener, so chances are any kind of future review of this album will have a slightly lower rating than it’s getting now. Heh, testy, these trends, eh?
Beyond such quibbles, however, Drugs, Sex & Blah Blah Blah is a strong sophomore effort from Atomic Hooligan. This is about as good as party-starting breakbeats get and with a little luck should help lift this promising duo to higher pastures.
Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2008. © All rights reserved
(2015 Update:
I've made no secret real life events often have an effect on my initial impressions of albums - times when I've felt mighty low have resulted in some rather cranky-ass reviews in the past. On the flipside, overly positive reviews for unexpected items have occurred during happy funtime months, and I sometimes wonder if such was the case in Atomic Hooligan's second LP. There are things here that, by all rights, should have pissed off 2008 Sykonee, including the sounds in Electro Ain't Electro, yet I gave it all a pass, instead praising the UK duo throughout. Oh, right, it's because that song totally called out my jaded presumptions on electro house, and Atomic Hooligan deserve all the props for that. It also doesn't hurt that Sex, Drugs And Blah, Blah, Blah honestly is good, holding up remarkably well for such a trend-jumpy album. Shame it didn't do much for Atomic Hooligan's career.
Seriously, following this, their Discogian profile dries up, and Last.fm doesn't offer much else either. They toured a little in the years after, managed two forgotten singles in 2010, and a fun, recent single called Bass Crazy, but that's mighty sparse pickings for a duo that seemed primed for a lengthy, successful career. It's baffling, but maybe 'breaks-apathy' really did do them in for a while there. Well, breaks are making a small comeback, so no more excuses, Atomic Hooligan!)
IN BRIEF: Don’t let breaks-apathy hold you back.
Far be it of Misters Welch and Ryan allowing genre-pigeonholing to stand in the way of ambition. Even though they shared the same label with breaks-for-life names like Freq Nasty and B.L.I.M., these Atomic Hooligans were determined to produce a debut album that threw plenty of musical influences into the mixing bowl, settling for nothing less than a breakbeat long-player that could be enjoyed by all. They succeeded too, with You Are Here enjoying proper nods of approval from press and breaks fans. One problem though: no one else seemed to care.
Was it being tied to label Botchit & Scarper that hobbled their potential success? Possibly, as You Are Here never left the realms of the UK for wider distribution. Or perhaps the breaks stigma was just far too strong to shake off; despite strong followings of fans scattered about the globe, there hasn’t been much interest in the genre for years now. Whatever the reason, were you to ask a regular clubber how that new album Drugs, Sex & Blah Blah Blah is, you’ll more than likely be met with a puzzled look and the reply of, “Atomic Hoo’s-it’s-now?”
Or maybe not. As said, Atomic Hooligan are an ambitious duo, and they aren’t about to let a little thing like breaks-apathy prevent them from firing off an album that should hold them in the same league as The Chemical Brothers and Bassment Jaxx. There’s plenty on this here release that will easily appeal to a broad listener base, provided they have it within their feet to get wild and crazy when the party starts.
Fact is Welch and Ryan are excellent producers. No sonic space on this album feels like it’s gone to waste, with rhythms, melodies, and harmonies complementing each other in wonderful ways. Every guest vocalist - and there are plenty - is part-and-parcel to the track they appear on, seldom sounding out-of-sorts. Tracks are loose and fast, with none of the soul-stripping overproduction traps other studio experts oftentimes fall into. And yet nothing ever comes off messy or jumbled, but rather a kind of ordered chaos; Atomic Hooligan display a fine sense of just what it takes to get crowds worked up into a frenzy.
Take lead single Papercuts: it’s everything that a killer cut of breaks should be. The basslines are forceful and catchy, the vocals soulful and sassy, and the supporting layers add gusto to spare. Granted, the more ‘farty’ bits may have the naysayers rolling their eyes but chances are such folk aren’t terribly into the whole breaks vibe to begin with. Other party jams like Dirty, grimier Spread Good Vibes, and instrumentals Who’s Ya Daddy Now? and Weed are just as effective.
Then there’s the psychedelic edge to much of this album. Whether instrumental (er, Weed again), rockier cuts like Safeguard, big-band funk like Blah Blah Blah, or sun-kissed summer festival moments like closer Too Late To Be Afriad, you get the feeling Welch and Ryan had ‘60s hedonism in mind when letting their influences guide them through.
At the same time, though, they realized they have to appeal to modern tastes if they’ll get any kind of recognition beyond the breaks faithful. As a result, we have disco punk (I Don’t Care), nu-electro house (Electro Ain’t Electro), and riot-grrl rawk (Thief) scattered about. Honestly, these aren’t bad offerings of their respective styles - Electro Ain’t Electro is definitely a welcome surprise, easily one of the better examples of ‘fart’ house I’ve heard in some time (having tongue-in-cheek lyrics going “Electro ain’t electro no more / We don’t care, get your ass on the floor” certainly helps). Unfortunately, they also scream of trend-jumping, and will effectively date this album once these musical fads have passed. Hmm., well, perhaps not so much Thief, as it has more in common with Fat Of The Land-era Prodigy than anything current. Still, such tracks will most likely impede long-term enjoyment for the casual listener, so chances are any kind of future review of this album will have a slightly lower rating than it’s getting now. Heh, testy, these trends, eh?
Beyond such quibbles, however, Drugs, Sex & Blah Blah Blah is a strong sophomore effort from Atomic Hooligan. This is about as good as party-starting breakbeats get and with a little luck should help lift this promising duo to higher pastures.
Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2008. © All rights reserved
Tuesday, July 7, 2015
Paul van Dyk - Seven Ways
MFS/Mute: 1996/1998
I could never understand the praise heaped on Paul van Dyk's second LP. “Really?” my brain puzzled as I listened to the album proper. “This is considered one of trance's all-time greatest efforts?” It’s decent enough, if rather simple for 1996, but my gold standard for the era is, was, and always will be whatever Oliver Lieb was kicking out at the time. And Seven Ways is no Rendezvous In Outer Space.
I can’t even give it the pass I normally allow cheesier hard German trance of those years, the production much too slick and polished for that. There are charming moments for sure, like the old-school vibes of I Like It, the unabashed bliss-out of Forbidden Fruit, the snarling acid work of Beautiful Place, the floating space-trance of I Can’t Feel It, and Words tickling all my vintage German trance pleasure centres. The whole album is mostly continuously mixed, a nice flow maintained between energetic bangers and melodic groovers. Paul and his helping hands in the studio (MFS head Mark Reeder, Wolfgang Ragwitz, Johnny Klimek) put together a decent enough product here – nothing sounds cheap or lame but I dunno’. For something considered one of the best albums of ‘90s trance, I figured Seven Ways would be more definitive of the genre. Then again, van Dyk’s style has been copied and expanded upon so much over the years, his second LP can’t help but come off sounding rather ordinary in comparison. Such has long been his handicap anyway.
Eh? The second disc? Oh, how good could that be? It’s just remixes and B-sides for collectors, ain’it? Yeah, that killer BT mix of Forbidden Fruit lurks among the ten tracks, but do I really need to hear three alternate versions of Words? Oh fine, I’ll spring for the double-discer set – it’s about the same price as the single CD version anyway.
And... oh. Oh! Oh my...! CD2 is awesome! Production that’s beefier. Ample wicked acid. Arrangements working the progressive trance template to perfection. Right out the gate, you get Seven Ways (Star Wars), a mix that sounds so much fuller than the CD1 version of the titular cut. Why the Hell didn’t Paul use this one there? Following that is Today (Trance-Ambient Mix), a lovely bit of Balearic business, and after that Words (For Love), jettisoning the older-leaning sounds of the original in favour of something far more cutting edge for the time. Even the hard, bangin’ Curbed Headcase Mix of Words doesn’t sound out of place. Then there’s two killer versions of Beautiful Place, an additional tech-trance stormer of Forbidden Fruit, and even a bit of that pseudo-genre epic house going on with eleven minute Sundae 6 A.M..
I get it now. CD1 of Seven Ways was van Dyk of old, closing a chapter of his career. CD2 of Seven Ways is the van Dyk everyone loves and pines for a return to. Though futile at this late stage, let me throw my voice in with that choir.
I could never understand the praise heaped on Paul van Dyk's second LP. “Really?” my brain puzzled as I listened to the album proper. “This is considered one of trance's all-time greatest efforts?” It’s decent enough, if rather simple for 1996, but my gold standard for the era is, was, and always will be whatever Oliver Lieb was kicking out at the time. And Seven Ways is no Rendezvous In Outer Space.
I can’t even give it the pass I normally allow cheesier hard German trance of those years, the production much too slick and polished for that. There are charming moments for sure, like the old-school vibes of I Like It, the unabashed bliss-out of Forbidden Fruit, the snarling acid work of Beautiful Place, the floating space-trance of I Can’t Feel It, and Words tickling all my vintage German trance pleasure centres. The whole album is mostly continuously mixed, a nice flow maintained between energetic bangers and melodic groovers. Paul and his helping hands in the studio (MFS head Mark Reeder, Wolfgang Ragwitz, Johnny Klimek) put together a decent enough product here – nothing sounds cheap or lame but I dunno’. For something considered one of the best albums of ‘90s trance, I figured Seven Ways would be more definitive of the genre. Then again, van Dyk’s style has been copied and expanded upon so much over the years, his second LP can’t help but come off sounding rather ordinary in comparison. Such has long been his handicap anyway.
Eh? The second disc? Oh, how good could that be? It’s just remixes and B-sides for collectors, ain’it? Yeah, that killer BT mix of Forbidden Fruit lurks among the ten tracks, but do I really need to hear three alternate versions of Words? Oh fine, I’ll spring for the double-discer set – it’s about the same price as the single CD version anyway.
And... oh. Oh! Oh my...! CD2 is awesome! Production that’s beefier. Ample wicked acid. Arrangements working the progressive trance template to perfection. Right out the gate, you get Seven Ways (Star Wars), a mix that sounds so much fuller than the CD1 version of the titular cut. Why the Hell didn’t Paul use this one there? Following that is Today (Trance-Ambient Mix), a lovely bit of Balearic business, and after that Words (For Love), jettisoning the older-leaning sounds of the original in favour of something far more cutting edge for the time. Even the hard, bangin’ Curbed Headcase Mix of Words doesn’t sound out of place. Then there’s two killer versions of Beautiful Place, an additional tech-trance stormer of Forbidden Fruit, and even a bit of that pseudo-genre epic house going on with eleven minute Sundae 6 A.M..
I get it now. CD1 of Seven Ways was van Dyk of old, closing a chapter of his career. CD2 of Seven Ways is the van Dyk everyone loves and pines for a return to. Though futile at this late stage, let me throw my voice in with that choir.
Monday, July 6, 2015
Various- Set/4 - Essentials
Iboga Records: 2005
I probably should have reviewed this when I got it so many lunar cycles ago, back when my interest in prog-psy was still peaking and I could gush some two-thousand rambly words over it. I was late to the party though, and the fourth edition of Iboga Records' compilation showcase was already a couple years old anyway. Besides, their stylee would endure for years after, right? Ain't no way it could grow stale! Honestly, the warning signs were there, but before delving into those, let me bring you up to speed on what Set/4 is all about.
As mentioned, this was part of Iboga’s near-annual label showcase, a series simply titled Set. Deciding the label was ready to broaden its reach, the CDs went into overdrive, unleashing three volumes in 2005 alone. And instead of being generic compilations, they’d have unique themes to each edition, with a guest compiler brought in to sweeten the deal. Okay, so most of these names weren’t much bigger beyond the prog psy scene to begin with, but the final hard-copy volume, Set 11, had none other than John ‘00’ Fleming at the helm, so that’s cool. Following that though, it became a solely digital outlet for new material, erroneously titled Iboga Trance Classics ever since. Highly presumptuous declaring such tracks instant classics, no?
That’s the history of the Set series out of the way. How does the volume that kicked off this change of course hold up, then? None too shabby for the most part, a few of Iboga’s biggest names taking up tracks space (no Antix though). One of Yoni Oshrat’s earliest efforts under the Ace Ventura alias shows up with Cardiac Arrest, a strong outing of pulsing prog-psy hinting a promising future with it (and kinda’ squandered once it came to Album Time, but whatever). Following that is an early version of Nobody’s Perfect from Perfect Stranger, because if you’re doing the compiling of the CD, you may as well throw in an original production too. FREq, an early star of Iboga, gets in on the action with Lifeline, giving us another solid, trancey groover. And at the end of Set/4 is a spaced-out slice of prog in Ground Control from Zen Mechanics, one of the few full-on acts that kept the genre respectable through the tail-end of the ‘00s.
Then there’s the middle section, and here you’ll find early warning signs that Iboga prog-psy had potential problems. Tracks from Yotopia, Sunseek, Cubica, Pixel, and Ran Shani have solid groove and classy synth work going for them, but there’s little distinction between them either. So much material from this label suffers from ‘trackiness’, tunes that are decent tools played out but are balls for home listening. And if these acts are drawing blanks, it’s because they never produced much either, most succumbing to the one-and-done album deal. A few good tracks (that can be found elsewhere) unfortunately isn’t enough to recommend Set/4 to anyone but Iboga completists.
I probably should have reviewed this when I got it so many lunar cycles ago, back when my interest in prog-psy was still peaking and I could gush some two-thousand rambly words over it. I was late to the party though, and the fourth edition of Iboga Records' compilation showcase was already a couple years old anyway. Besides, their stylee would endure for years after, right? Ain't no way it could grow stale! Honestly, the warning signs were there, but before delving into those, let me bring you up to speed on what Set/4 is all about.
As mentioned, this was part of Iboga’s near-annual label showcase, a series simply titled Set. Deciding the label was ready to broaden its reach, the CDs went into overdrive, unleashing three volumes in 2005 alone. And instead of being generic compilations, they’d have unique themes to each edition, with a guest compiler brought in to sweeten the deal. Okay, so most of these names weren’t much bigger beyond the prog psy scene to begin with, but the final hard-copy volume, Set 11, had none other than John ‘00’ Fleming at the helm, so that’s cool. Following that though, it became a solely digital outlet for new material, erroneously titled Iboga Trance Classics ever since. Highly presumptuous declaring such tracks instant classics, no?
That’s the history of the Set series out of the way. How does the volume that kicked off this change of course hold up, then? None too shabby for the most part, a few of Iboga’s biggest names taking up tracks space (no Antix though). One of Yoni Oshrat’s earliest efforts under the Ace Ventura alias shows up with Cardiac Arrest, a strong outing of pulsing prog-psy hinting a promising future with it (and kinda’ squandered once it came to Album Time, but whatever). Following that is an early version of Nobody’s Perfect from Perfect Stranger, because if you’re doing the compiling of the CD, you may as well throw in an original production too. FREq, an early star of Iboga, gets in on the action with Lifeline, giving us another solid, trancey groover. And at the end of Set/4 is a spaced-out slice of prog in Ground Control from Zen Mechanics, one of the few full-on acts that kept the genre respectable through the tail-end of the ‘00s.
Then there’s the middle section, and here you’ll find early warning signs that Iboga prog-psy had potential problems. Tracks from Yotopia, Sunseek, Cubica, Pixel, and Ran Shani have solid groove and classy synth work going for them, but there’s little distinction between them either. So much material from this label suffers from ‘trackiness’, tunes that are decent tools played out but are balls for home listening. And if these acts are drawing blanks, it’s because they never produced much either, most succumbing to the one-and-done album deal. A few good tracks (that can be found elsewhere) unfortunately isn’t enough to recommend Set/4 to anyone but Iboga completists.
Sunday, July 5, 2015
Various - Sessions: Steve Angello (Original TC Review)
Ministry Of Sound: 2006
(2015 Update:
Another review with a lengthy preamble attempt at defining genre terms and all that - 2006 Sykonee sure did that a lot. He also wasn't accurate in his prediction that trashy electro house had its day in the sun, though the imminent rise in minimal definitely curtailed its trendiness. He/I was bang on, however, in pointing out how much of a time capsule this mix turned out being. No one plays out tunes as dull as those found on CD2, thank God, and even that dirty Swedish sound fell out of favor when the SHM shifted their sound to the headline festival circuit. Clap-along anthems are in, thump-stomp farting basslines are out.
As for Mr. Angello... hoo boy, there's a mouthful. I don't think anyone could have predicted just how big he and his Swedish House Mafia cohorts would get, even with the level of fame he'd already achieved by the mid-'00s. Gotta' give him credit for making such bank with so little effort, but it feels like his success inadvertently left a scorched earth in his wake. Get money, get fame, get crowds, and who the fuck cares about its lasting impact on electronic music at large. Like, it's not his fault so many producers tried copying his stuff, diluting the scene with absolute rubbish so many years after. Or maybe I'm giving the guy far too much credit.)
IN BRIEF: ‘Elect-' no, that’s not right at all. Hmm... dirty tech...?
The dust has settled, the hype has passed, and we’ve now had time to reflect. What at the time seemed reasonable is now regarded by many as a mistake, an obvious ploy to tag an already hot buzzword to something it really wasn’t. Yes, folks, it’s true. It would seem ‘electro’ house - the simple gritty throbbing offspring of tech house - is finally falling out of favor as that music’s unofficial title. I doubt anyone was entirely comfortable with the name but with no one coming up with something more concrete, promoters ran with it, anxious to capitalize on the sound. Now that ‘electro’ house’s popularity is waning, perhaps we can finally figure out what to properly call it (as was done with ‘techno’- sorry, euro dance).
As an unlikely source as it may seem, I think Ministry Of Sound nailed it on the promo sticker of their Sessions release featuring esteemed Swedish House Mafia member Steve Angello: “fuck-off dirty house music”. That captures the spirit of their sound perfectly! Those raw basslines are as dirty as it gets, like a synth dragged through analogue gravel. And funk? Soul? Hell no. This is house music with punk attitude, designed to get your head bangin’ and your body moshin’. Fuck off with those pretentious designs; we’re here to raise a ruckus. Well, maybe the ‘fuck-off’ bit can be done away with if you’re feeling prissy, but dirty house... yeah, I likes that. Loads more than ‘electro’ anyways.
Unfortunately, it matters little now, as the music’s already had its day in the sun. When you base an entire style around a single attribute (those basslines, duh), it quickly falls into the novelty trap: producers figuring the gimmick is enough to have any ol’ hit without writing a decent song, or even a catchy hook (I’m looking at you, Dreamcatcher). Dirty house (yes, that’s what I’m unofficially calling it from now on, until something more official and less half-assed than ‘electro’ replaces it; deal with it) quickly fell into this trap, tons of knock-off imitators plaguing the shops, diluting a good, if limited, idea. One year ago, this was the hottest sound bubbling up; even trance jocks were jumping on it. Today, a respected DJ only uses it sparingly (as they should), a token gesture towards those who still demand stomping farty basslines.
This DJ mix captures dirty house’s apex. At the turn of the year, it was fresh, exciting, and storming dancefloors. Angello and his partner Sebastian Ingrosso were a pair of the hottest names around. That time has long since passed though, and all the fever over a release such as this has quietly receded to the back corners, some even too embarrassed they were head-over-heels over something so obviously gimmicky. Is this what Angello’s Sessions is though, nothing but novelty? Or did this Mafia member put together a compilation that folks down the road can throw on and enjoy when dirty house has finally gone the way of speed garage?
Angello quickly says yes, proving to us he’s more than a one-trick pony in the house scene. The opening chunk of disc one sees a nice assortment of styles to warm us up: disco, italo, Latin, and even an unashamed ‘reach-for-the-lasers’ track with Stoppage Time. Nothing groundbreaking of course, but house heads will be pleased with the variety maintaining a building flow.
And then those basslines appear.
Actually, some of the farty sounds were in the former tracks, but they complemented rhythms rather than lead the whole. From Not So Dirty on though, it’s a distinguishing characteristic, and your enjoyment of disc one will depend entirely on how much you dig the dirty house sound.
For what it’s worth, Angello does provide a decent amount of variety between these tracks. Even if most of the hooks are predictable as fuck (dun, dun-dun, dun, d-d-d-d-dun-dun, and so on), a different synth patch each time does wonders to maintain interest. I’d even consider Angello’s own Chord - a track which brings this set to a peak - electro proper, as it has that robotic Neo-Tokyo vibe going for it. And yes, the rhythms pound along just fine; drunkenly and disorderly, sometimes with hints of funk too. This is house music best enjoyed with copious shooters and played really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really loud. Listening to this disc though, you get the impression even Angello realized the limited potential of this sound; it begins to bore towards the end and his final two tracks feel like tag-ons that have little to do with the rest of the set. It doesn’t help they plod along without any of the energy the previous tracks provided. Sadly, they hint at things to come in disc two.
His second set in this double starts interestingly enough. Opening with the moody minimal sounds of Mandarine Girl, then turning on its head with the kitschy Sexy As Fuck, it appears Angello is taking a stab at trashy electroclash and pulsing techno. Fine and dandy for a bit, and it even gets a nice peak with Trentemøller’s remix of Röyksopp's What Else Is There?
And then he goes minimal. Very minimal. Tediously minimal. Annoyingly minimal. Man, I know this stuff’s hipster points are through the roof right now, and jumping on this sound earlier in the year would have been considered a daring artistic choice, but not when it’s this boring. The end of disc one may be plodding, but it’s a Clyde Stubblefield solo compared to the tracks Angello lays down for most of disc two. Some hope of lifting us out of this ketamine daze appears at points, notably in Alto Voltaje, but the set always falls back to square one; many teases, no payoffs (Ingrosso’s own remix of Moby’s Dream About Me is brutal at this). I don’t expect minimal to be exciting or funky or contain huge riffs, but there should at least be something for my head to dig on, of which there isn’t much. The atmosphere, minimal’s make-or-break attribute, has no life. Few of the sounds bubbling about are interesting to hear, and when the only form of dancing one can do to this set is the Zombie Lurch, it makes for a very boring hour of music. At least Holden’s remix of The Sky Was Pink gives us something kind of melodic to end off on.
So, does Angello’s Sessions mix have enough charm to be enjoyed outside of its time? The first disc certainly does, although the phrase ‘this is sooo 2005' will undoubtedly be running through your head as it plays. The second disc... um, not so much. If anything, it’ll provide future music geeks with evidence why the minimal movement was perhaps a mistake - not that I think this to be true, mind, as there has been some quality in this style; just very little here. If you can find this double-disc on the cheap, it’ll serve as a nifty time-capsule in your music collection.
Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2006. © All rights reserved.
(2015 Update:
Another review with a lengthy preamble attempt at defining genre terms and all that - 2006 Sykonee sure did that a lot. He also wasn't accurate in his prediction that trashy electro house had its day in the sun, though the imminent rise in minimal definitely curtailed its trendiness. He/I was bang on, however, in pointing out how much of a time capsule this mix turned out being. No one plays out tunes as dull as those found on CD2, thank God, and even that dirty Swedish sound fell out of favor when the SHM shifted their sound to the headline festival circuit. Clap-along anthems are in, thump-stomp farting basslines are out.
As for Mr. Angello... hoo boy, there's a mouthful. I don't think anyone could have predicted just how big he and his Swedish House Mafia cohorts would get, even with the level of fame he'd already achieved by the mid-'00s. Gotta' give him credit for making such bank with so little effort, but it feels like his success inadvertently left a scorched earth in his wake. Get money, get fame, get crowds, and who the fuck cares about its lasting impact on electronic music at large. Like, it's not his fault so many producers tried copying his stuff, diluting the scene with absolute rubbish so many years after. Or maybe I'm giving the guy far too much credit.)
IN BRIEF: ‘Elect-' no, that’s not right at all. Hmm... dirty tech...?
The dust has settled, the hype has passed, and we’ve now had time to reflect. What at the time seemed reasonable is now regarded by many as a mistake, an obvious ploy to tag an already hot buzzword to something it really wasn’t. Yes, folks, it’s true. It would seem ‘electro’ house - the simple gritty throbbing offspring of tech house - is finally falling out of favor as that music’s unofficial title. I doubt anyone was entirely comfortable with the name but with no one coming up with something more concrete, promoters ran with it, anxious to capitalize on the sound. Now that ‘electro’ house’s popularity is waning, perhaps we can finally figure out what to properly call it (as was done with ‘techno’- sorry, euro dance).
As an unlikely source as it may seem, I think Ministry Of Sound nailed it on the promo sticker of their Sessions release featuring esteemed Swedish House Mafia member Steve Angello: “fuck-off dirty house music”. That captures the spirit of their sound perfectly! Those raw basslines are as dirty as it gets, like a synth dragged through analogue gravel. And funk? Soul? Hell no. This is house music with punk attitude, designed to get your head bangin’ and your body moshin’. Fuck off with those pretentious designs; we’re here to raise a ruckus. Well, maybe the ‘fuck-off’ bit can be done away with if you’re feeling prissy, but dirty house... yeah, I likes that. Loads more than ‘electro’ anyways.
Unfortunately, it matters little now, as the music’s already had its day in the sun. When you base an entire style around a single attribute (those basslines, duh), it quickly falls into the novelty trap: producers figuring the gimmick is enough to have any ol’ hit without writing a decent song, or even a catchy hook (I’m looking at you, Dreamcatcher). Dirty house (yes, that’s what I’m unofficially calling it from now on, until something more official and less half-assed than ‘electro’ replaces it; deal with it) quickly fell into this trap, tons of knock-off imitators plaguing the shops, diluting a good, if limited, idea. One year ago, this was the hottest sound bubbling up; even trance jocks were jumping on it. Today, a respected DJ only uses it sparingly (as they should), a token gesture towards those who still demand stomping farty basslines.
This DJ mix captures dirty house’s apex. At the turn of the year, it was fresh, exciting, and storming dancefloors. Angello and his partner Sebastian Ingrosso were a pair of the hottest names around. That time has long since passed though, and all the fever over a release such as this has quietly receded to the back corners, some even too embarrassed they were head-over-heels over something so obviously gimmicky. Is this what Angello’s Sessions is though, nothing but novelty? Or did this Mafia member put together a compilation that folks down the road can throw on and enjoy when dirty house has finally gone the way of speed garage?
Angello quickly says yes, proving to us he’s more than a one-trick pony in the house scene. The opening chunk of disc one sees a nice assortment of styles to warm us up: disco, italo, Latin, and even an unashamed ‘reach-for-the-lasers’ track with Stoppage Time. Nothing groundbreaking of course, but house heads will be pleased with the variety maintaining a building flow.
And then those basslines appear.
Actually, some of the farty sounds were in the former tracks, but they complemented rhythms rather than lead the whole. From Not So Dirty on though, it’s a distinguishing characteristic, and your enjoyment of disc one will depend entirely on how much you dig the dirty house sound.
For what it’s worth, Angello does provide a decent amount of variety between these tracks. Even if most of the hooks are predictable as fuck (dun, dun-dun, dun, d-d-d-d-dun-dun, and so on), a different synth patch each time does wonders to maintain interest. I’d even consider Angello’s own Chord - a track which brings this set to a peak - electro proper, as it has that robotic Neo-Tokyo vibe going for it. And yes, the rhythms pound along just fine; drunkenly and disorderly, sometimes with hints of funk too. This is house music best enjoyed with copious shooters and played really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really loud. Listening to this disc though, you get the impression even Angello realized the limited potential of this sound; it begins to bore towards the end and his final two tracks feel like tag-ons that have little to do with the rest of the set. It doesn’t help they plod along without any of the energy the previous tracks provided. Sadly, they hint at things to come in disc two.
His second set in this double starts interestingly enough. Opening with the moody minimal sounds of Mandarine Girl, then turning on its head with the kitschy Sexy As Fuck, it appears Angello is taking a stab at trashy electroclash and pulsing techno. Fine and dandy for a bit, and it even gets a nice peak with Trentemøller’s remix of Röyksopp's What Else Is There?
And then he goes minimal. Very minimal. Tediously minimal. Annoyingly minimal. Man, I know this stuff’s hipster points are through the roof right now, and jumping on this sound earlier in the year would have been considered a daring artistic choice, but not when it’s this boring. The end of disc one may be plodding, but it’s a Clyde Stubblefield solo compared to the tracks Angello lays down for most of disc two. Some hope of lifting us out of this ketamine daze appears at points, notably in Alto Voltaje, but the set always falls back to square one; many teases, no payoffs (Ingrosso’s own remix of Moby’s Dream About Me is brutal at this). I don’t expect minimal to be exciting or funky or contain huge riffs, but there should at least be something for my head to dig on, of which there isn’t much. The atmosphere, minimal’s make-or-break attribute, has no life. Few of the sounds bubbling about are interesting to hear, and when the only form of dancing one can do to this set is the Zombie Lurch, it makes for a very boring hour of music. At least Holden’s remix of The Sky Was Pink gives us something kind of melodic to end off on.
So, does Angello’s Sessions mix have enough charm to be enjoyed outside of its time? The first disc certainly does, although the phrase ‘this is sooo 2005' will undoubtedly be running through your head as it plays. The second disc... um, not so much. If anything, it’ll provide future music geeks with evidence why the minimal movement was perhaps a mistake - not that I think this to be true, mind, as there has been some quality in this style; just very little here. If you can find this double-disc on the cheap, it’ll serve as a nifty time-capsule in your music collection.
Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2006. © All rights reserved.
Saturday, July 4, 2015
Tobias. - A Series Of Shocks
Ostgut Ton: 2014
I got this when it first came out, a rather rare occurrence for CDs outside my label comfort zone. The samples intrigued me though, and I figured I could review an actual recent release with a bit of hype for a change. Sure, my alphabetical stipulation placed it some distance from my then-current letter 'M', but surely I'd reach 'S' only a little later in the year. And here we are fifteen months since Tobias dropped his third LP. Um, a few unanticipated albums popped up in my collection during that time.
Still, A Series Of Shocks had enough buzz it should be a relevant album for discussion even at this late point. It’s Ostgut f’n Ton, after all, and everything they put it is Very Important Musics. Yeah, funny thing that. I don’t know how it happened, but the Berghain posse doesn’t command quite the same level of acclaim anymore. As always, I’ve a couple theories for this, one of which is interest in the über-elite club brand has waned, new audiences disinterested in their jib. On the other hand, there’s been a noticeable stylistic shift at the Ostgut camps of late, allowing things like trancey arpeggios and real melody into their repertoire after so many years of crushing warehouse techno. I, for one, welcome this development, but perhaps others aren’t so keen on it. Finally, look at what came out shortly after A Series Of Shocks: Tycho’s Awake, Todd Terje’s It’s Album Time, Efdemin’s Decay, and Vermont’s self-titled release. Poor ol’ Tobias couldn’t help but get lost in all the critical hype that went to those LPs in the following month. Let’s backtrack to that second point though. While I do admire Ostgut’s brand of audiophile techno, it isn’t something I typically seek out because it’s often just too darn tracky – tools for use on optimum club systems and not for lounging back with tea and crumpets.
Yet, with an ambient opener (Entire) that harkens back to the krautrock doodling days of trippy synth work, it’s clear Tobias has something more in mind that another round of dark bangers. Second cut Heartbeat is pretty much a neo-trance tune, a little more minimalist than Petar Dundov goes but just as groovy, hypnotic, and all that good stuff of the pseudo-genre. Elsewhere, you have dub techno loopers transmitting from deep space in Fast Null, The Scheme Of Things, and Ya Po, with a little droning dub fromTestcard for good measure. Adding some variety to the album is spritely Detroit techno track Cursor Item Only and tempered breaks action from If. Finally, your Berghain-ready weapons come care of burbling acid workout Instant and pure thumper He Said.
Of course, if you just don’t care for the cavernous sound design Mr. Freund employs, A Series Of Shocks may not be of much interest. Unlike so much of techno of this sort, however, there’s enough going on here that I’ve no problem throwing this on the home system. Fair warning to the neighbours.
I got this when it first came out, a rather rare occurrence for CDs outside my label comfort zone. The samples intrigued me though, and I figured I could review an actual recent release with a bit of hype for a change. Sure, my alphabetical stipulation placed it some distance from my then-current letter 'M', but surely I'd reach 'S' only a little later in the year. And here we are fifteen months since Tobias dropped his third LP. Um, a few unanticipated albums popped up in my collection during that time.
Still, A Series Of Shocks had enough buzz it should be a relevant album for discussion even at this late point. It’s Ostgut f’n Ton, after all, and everything they put it is Very Important Musics. Yeah, funny thing that. I don’t know how it happened, but the Berghain posse doesn’t command quite the same level of acclaim anymore. As always, I’ve a couple theories for this, one of which is interest in the über-elite club brand has waned, new audiences disinterested in their jib. On the other hand, there’s been a noticeable stylistic shift at the Ostgut camps of late, allowing things like trancey arpeggios and real melody into their repertoire after so many years of crushing warehouse techno. I, for one, welcome this development, but perhaps others aren’t so keen on it. Finally, look at what came out shortly after A Series Of Shocks: Tycho’s Awake, Todd Terje’s It’s Album Time, Efdemin’s Decay, and Vermont’s self-titled release. Poor ol’ Tobias couldn’t help but get lost in all the critical hype that went to those LPs in the following month. Let’s backtrack to that second point though. While I do admire Ostgut’s brand of audiophile techno, it isn’t something I typically seek out because it’s often just too darn tracky – tools for use on optimum club systems and not for lounging back with tea and crumpets.
Yet, with an ambient opener (Entire) that harkens back to the krautrock doodling days of trippy synth work, it’s clear Tobias has something more in mind that another round of dark bangers. Second cut Heartbeat is pretty much a neo-trance tune, a little more minimalist than Petar Dundov goes but just as groovy, hypnotic, and all that good stuff of the pseudo-genre. Elsewhere, you have dub techno loopers transmitting from deep space in Fast Null, The Scheme Of Things, and Ya Po, with a little droning dub fromTestcard for good measure. Adding some variety to the album is spritely Detroit techno track Cursor Item Only and tempered breaks action from If. Finally, your Berghain-ready weapons come care of burbling acid workout Instant and pure thumper He Said.
Of course, if you just don’t care for the cavernous sound design Mr. Freund employs, A Series Of Shocks may not be of much interest. Unlike so much of techno of this sort, however, there’s enough going on here that I’ve no problem throwing this on the home system. Fair warning to the neighbours.
Labels:
2014,
album,
ambient,
dub techno,
minimal,
Ostgut Ton,
Tobias
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