Brian Wilson - Smile

Nonesuch: 2004

Smile was meant to be Brian Wilson's magnum opus, a career defining album that would elevate Americana songcraft above anything those UK invasion bands offered. He had the creative drive, the resources (studio equipment access, peerless harmony group in The Beach Boys), and the benchmark to top with Pet Sounds. Unfortunately, he didn't have a Paul, John, or even Keith on his side, and when The Beatles came out with Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, poor ol' Brian realized he couldn’t top that ridiculously successful album. Despite having blueprints laid out, and even recording a few would-be singles that would feature in Smile, his efforts seemed so easily trumped by the Liverpool Four, it was more than he could take. Nervous breakdown beckoned, much of Smile abandoned, and one of rock music's most famous non-albums entered the realm of tantalizing “what if?” discourse.

And so it looked to remain as such, B. Wilson's mental acuity taking years upon decades to find its way out of grim-dark murk. Perseverance paid off though, eventually finding it within himself to write new music without the crushing pressure of critical and commercial success. Good thing too, because much of his output during the ‘90s wasn’t overly memorable. Old time fans supported him, but folks suspected his creative spark that propelled The Beach Boys to the top of the pop charts had long since faded. Just as well, Wilson truly no longer made for those ‘90s times anyway.

Then out of the blue, Brian announced that he’d finish his super Smile project after all, as it was intended way back in the ‘60s. Well shit, son (dad?), that’s awesome. Is there really any interest left for this album though? It’s a new century, a new millennium, and most ultra-fans of The Beach Boys had already pieced together finished songs and studio scraps for their own Smile bootlegs. Hell, Brian’s voice had considerably aged, and good luck getting the remaining actual Beach Boys into the studio after the bitter estrangement all those years had festered between the two parties.

All those concerns were for naught, the finished Smile a wonderful, amazing album from front to back. Essentially three parts, the first captures the nostalgic memories of carefree, youthful summers, especially while vacationing in touristy American locales, with Heroes And Villains the main attraction here. The second part goes more wistful and reflective, the big song off here being dreamy Surf’s Up. And the final part gets goofy and experimental; some pieces mere snippets of sound effects before changing gears to something else. Like, hot damn, that transition from the fire-storm of Mrs. O’Leary’s Cow into the desolate In Blue Hawaii! Then to cap the whole experience off with the mighty Good Vibrations, you can’t help but want to stand and cheer for Brian Wilson, for seeing his vision come into being, triumphant in all the adversity he’d faced. Plus, y’know, there’s just a ton of great music all throughout Smile too.

Various - Slumberland (Episode 2: Awake & Dreaming)

Waveform Records: 2000

It didn't seem Waveform Records had any intention of following up the first Slumberland. The kick-off series [Number] A.D aside, most of their compilations were one-and-done efforts, a simple showcase of a particular genre of music. Frosty got in on that trippy acid jazz-hop vibe, Earthjuice went for a traditional dub look, and Slumberland surely satisfied whatever audience they had for dreamy ambient noodling. Their snoozing CD must have did better business than expected though, for why else would they bring us Episode 2 nearly three years after the first? Maybe groovy folks truly do enjoy calm, droning synths, so long as its presented in a package that eschews New Age mystical bollocks.

On the other hand, perhaps Waveform believed there was more to explore with the Slumberland concept, hence the write-up for Episode 2: Awake & Dreaming. Instead of offering music capturing the essence of deep relaxation, this CD focuses on transitional moments between alertness and inertness. Not so much the lucid state of mind though, the tunes on offer here having more rhythm to them, mostly light tribal beats or pulsating synths. It’s still a very calm collection of music, but there’s something of an old, ancient mystery to it all, like music sent from all our forgotten ancestors who somehow had digital means of recording sounds. Whoof, does that ever sound pretentious.

I’m gonna’ allow it though, because Slumberland 2: The Reslumbering, features quite a few names well outside the borderlands of what most folks consider electronic music producers. Oh, they definitely still make use of synths and sequencers, but you’d never find these names in the traditional “Electronic & Dance” racks at ye’ olde record shop. For instance, ones Mychael Danna and Tim Clément appear on here, Canadian individuals who’ve been making ambient music since the ‘80s – in fact, their composition Sunrise West, a pulsing bit of latter-era Berlin School work, comes direct from an ’86 album Another Sun. And while Mr. Clément mostly worked in tandem with Mr. Danna, one of his few solo outings also features here in the form of Beautiful Lady, a piece with eerie bells and pipes playing as filtered dialog goes on about out-of-body experiences. Then there’s Richard Wahnfried’s epic eighteen minute long Druck, making use of acoustic guitars, tribal rhythms, and wave upon wave of synths and pads. Who does this guy think he is, Mike Oldfield? Heh, close: it’s actually a pseudonym for the legendary Klaus Schulze, putting this track’s release date firmly in 1981! Holy cow, did Waveform ever do some digging for this compilation.

That said, the label’s spelunking for ambient music outliers resulted in a few chintzy pieces too. Tracks from I-Sense and Eleven Shadows are rather rudimentary offerings, and I can’t decide whether Janjiva’s Four Dimensional Interaction is suitably minimalist ambient techno or just undercooked, especially compared to the sharper Born Basic from Foundland. The ‘nice’ does still outweighs the ‘meh’ on Slumberland 2 though, and is a worthy sequel to the first.

Various - Slumberland

Waveform Records: 1997

Ambient dub was definitely on the wane in the latter half of the ‘90s, most roads the genre could take thoroughly explored in Beyond and Waveform’s early years. And while producers could still make good tunes, stylistic expansion was necessary to stay relevant in an ever-changing musical landscape. For most, that meant getting into trip-hop or psy-dub, generally music that had some common, groove-based lineage with ambient dub. Waveform, on the other hand, went for the ambient audience, indulging in a brief run of deeply meditative, synth droney, occasionally New Agey compilations and albums. So, to remain relevant, the label sought an even more specialist crowd - makes total sense.

Taking their early first steps into uncharted and unchartable music is Slumberland, a compilation of eight tracks featuring ambient music for dreamy times, to lose yourself in as the melatonin overwhelms your brainpan. Yet it’s not all synths noodling about – okay, it mostly is, but there’s a few variations to take in here.

Georg Brunn’s Crater Lake is about as ambient as ambient gets, pure floating bliss with calm, soothing voice pads, never sounding like tepid New Age angel choirs. It’s also quite brief too, just over three minutes in length, practically a doodle where this form of music’s concerned. Might I also add that, for the longest time, it never occurred to me that the title was in reference to the actual Crater Lake – the spacey tone of this piece always had me conjuring thoughts of moon craters. If you were hoping for something lengthier though, Hemisphere’s Samadhi has a similar tone, reaching a breezy eight-and-a-half for your enjoyment.

Then there’s the stuff that owes some debt to prog-rock of the ‘70s. A Produce’s The Golden Needle makes use of pulsing pads and spaced-out guitar work, while Sky’s On The Shores Of The High Priestess is nearly fifteen minutes of wave upon wave of primitive synths washing over you. For the record, Sky’s apparently a group of seven members, and this track comes from the hopelessly obscure 1988 album Dreams on the utterly lost label Magic Music. Seriously, only one person at Lord Discogs lists it in their collection, yet somehow Waveform got the rights to use this track. To be fair though, Sky has had a number of songs on various New Age collections throughout the ‘90s, but I sure don’t see anyone rushing out to find lost ‘treasures’ like The Dream Age Collection or New Age Digital. Speaking of New Age, Om’s Starfire sounds as chintzy as New Age could get in the ‘80s. Ah well, they couldn’t all be winners here.

Surprisingly though, Slumberland has enough going for it that it’s just as enjoyable to take in with a proper listen as it is sleeping music. Far East meditation from Lucia Hwong, eerie Middle-East excursions with Sanjiva, and electro-beatnik musings from Witchcraft round out a solid entry in the Waveform canon. Maybe there’s something to all this noodling synth music after all.

Various - Slinky Presents: Superclub DJ's - John Kelly

Slinky Music: 2001

Just so we’re clear, this isn’t DJ John Kelley, the Moontribe member rinsing out at West American desert raves. No no, this is DJ John Kelly. It’s all in the pronunciation, see, that slight inflection that differentiates UK dialects and Californian slang. Go on, say it aloud. What, you still can't tell the difference? Whatever, it took nearly two bloody years to finally made that callback gag, and ain't no way I'm letting it go to waste with this one opportunity. This is what's called humor, people!

Also humorous is the notion of the Slinky brand, truly a testament to the bloated scene that was British superclubs at the turn of the century. It's understandable that institutions like Gatecrasher, Renaissance, and Cream would have enough market clout to promote their own DJ sponsored CDs, t-shirts, fanzines, and other paraphernalia. Slinky though? Was there really so much money floating about that any club night pulling a few thousand punters could have global reach? Even way off on these shores of the far West, you'd find Slinky CDs clogging up shelf space, always sitting there, stupid expensive from import fees, trying to pass itself as on par with the big boys of the era. Little on those mixes looked appealing though, whatever hits of the day the same ol' anthems rinsed out on other prestigious mixes. God, even calling Gatecrasher 'prestigious' feels dirty, but compared to Slinky, it seems apt.

Fortunately (?), after the megaclub scene crashed, so did Slinky as a super promotion, their label folding and several of their releases easily found in clear-out bins for a soft fiver. Even then their CDs didn't look worth the investment, but seeing a double-disc from DJ John Kelley was enough enticement for a purchase. Wait, when did he ever play superclubs in the UK? Oh, wait, this is DJ John Kelly. Who’s he now?

Just kidding. Mr. Kelly paid his dues on the British DJ circuit throughout the '90s, often rubbing shoulders with all the big names and famous jocks while flooding the market with mixtapes. He definitely deserved a spot at a superclub, though it seems after Slinky's brand collapsed, so did ol' John's output, Lord Discogs finding little trace of his material these past ten years. So he either retired, or has gone deep underground. I'd do a search but chances are I'd come across his American doppelganger instead.

Oh, this 2CD mix? Eh, there's not much worth getting detailed about. CD1 is hard dance, at that weird crossroad point where NRG had faded but hardstyle hadn't quite taken off yet, and very little flow between tracks throughout the bosh. Utterly skippable, though hearing Picotto's Komodo again was nice. CD2 goes proggier, and builds well for a good while before getting stupid with novelty tracks, though hearing Minimalistix' Struggle For Pleasure again was nice. Mr. Kelly sounds more comfortable mixing these tracks, but most of his chosen tunes are forgettable. Yes, even that useless Tiësto remix of Innocente.

Eminem - The Slim Shady LP

Interscope Records: 1998

Seven years wasn’t long enough for the bitter aftertaste of Vanilla Ice’s brief dominance at the top of the charts. Perhaps that shameful moment in hip-hop’s history could never be cleansed from public consciousness, forever ruining whatever hope white rappers not named Beastie Boys might have in breaking it in that scene. Heck, the only other marginally successful Caucasian group in ’97 was ICP, and few gave them much care since they were so thoroughly committed to their clown show, no one took them seriously. And hip-hop are serious musics, see, dealing with serious issues of the day, and serious stories of rags to riches. What could a white boy from Detroit know of hardships in America?

Plenty much, turns out. Via an extreme persona dubbed Slim Shady, Eminem offered a look inside the side of life below the poverty line for American Caucasians (re: white trash), a topic almost unheard of in the world of rap. Punk rock, sure; metal, of course; blues and country, sometimes yeah. Hip-hop though, that's music for the black community, performed for the black community – how could they relate to the things Mr. Mathers dealt with?

Not much, to be honest, but they couldn't deny his skills on a microphone, spitting out battle rhymes and telling stories on par with any of the best MCs of the ‘90s. It was enough to draw the notice of Dr. Dre himself, hearing fresh fire in the kid from Detroit that hadn't been heard in hip-hop for years, the old guard all too comfortable in their established roles. Eminem had the talent, the unique perspective, and the drive to take the world by storm; all he needed was the guidance, which Doc' Dre provided. Then they released the corny-ass My Name Is, instantly dividing the MTV generation on whether Eminem could ever be taken seriously.

Oh all right, it was mostly me, but I don't doubt I was alone in suspecting Eminem nothing but a novelty one-hit wonder after that video. Hell, even the stuff he was graphically detailing wasn't too far off from the shock humor of South Park and Jerry Springer. Hip-hop associates kept telling me, “Don't judge him by that one song, it's the worst one off the album. You gotta' hear the rest of it, man!” Yeah, yeah, I'd nod, but considering I had yet to take my proper rap plunge, fat chance I'd ever hear The Slim Shady LP in full. Still, tracks like Guilty Conscience, My Fault (aka: the mushrooms song), and Role Model did find their way to my ears at the odd house party, and I couldn't deny they were fun, twisted tunes.

But nay, it wasn't until after hearing The Marshall Mathers LP and growing to appreciate Eminem the artist that I finally went back to The Slim Shady LP. And lo’, it was indeed a good album, a wild, reckless ride through lower class society’s worst traits. I sure don’t want to stay there for long though.

Neil Young & Crazy Horse - Sleeps With Angels

Reprise Records: 1994

Sleeps With Angels is one of the best albums Neil Young and his Crazy Horse ever put out, yet hardly gets mentioned in discussion. True, some of their other records had more impact on rock’s landscape – no one's taking away classics like Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere and Rust Never Sleeps. This one though, note for note, chord for chord, guitar for piano, drum for flute, distortion for melody, Sleeps With Angels is a beautiful album. Not because it paints a pretty picture, oh no! These are some incredibly bleak songs, topics of death, decay, and depression all presented in as grungy a way as blues rock can go. There's something captivating about all this misery though, like scenes out of an art-house film without the pretentious waffle that comes with it.

For instance, the criminally overlooked song Driveby, which deals with drive-by shootings and the tragedy they so often create. Young doesn't preach, laying out one senseless scenario after the other, the music he and Crazy Horse provide marching at a sombrely pace as though they're funeral pall-bearers. Their harmonized chorus, simply the title of the track, is such a heart-breaker, you wonder if the band themselves suffered a drive-by death in the family.

And so much of Sleeps With Angels is like this. Prime Of Life details the insidious nature of tabloid magazines ruining the Royal Family, the titular cut touches on Kurt Cobain's suicide with distortion dragged through the ugliest gravel pit, Western Hero forlornly recalls past glories of an old cowboy, Trans Am forlornly recalls past glories of a Trans Am, Safeway Cart paints a portrait of ghetto decay, and the epic fourteen minute long Change Your Mind tries consoling with extreme depression, wary of the spectre of suicide ever lurking in the shadows. My God, it wasn't that many years prior Young gave the world the sentimental Harvest Moon, much less teaming up with The Horse on the free-wheeling Ragged Glory. Even the one 'cock rocker' on here, the hilarious Piece Of Crap, rants on about disposable consumerist junk. What made them turn so dour? '90s, man, f’n '90s.

I wonder if that’s why Sleeps With Angels doesn’t receive the same Boomer plaudits as Young’s older work. The songcraft is all here, Neil & Crazy as tight-knit yet wonderfully loose of a unit during their ‘90s resurgence, but older folks just don’t talk it up much. Are the topics too touchy for his traditional audience, a sense of all the things that generation had worked for run ragged and cast aside by Gen-X’s emergence upon adulthood? Figures Young found a common link between the two with his music, the grunge aesthetic he helped pioneer turned into musings on the state of the nation. Its topics the adults could relate to, but wrapped in a package appealing to the teens, and all the more brilliant for it. Sadly, that also lands Sleeps With Angels in a nowhere land between disparate music scenes, often neglected by both.

Kiko - Slave Of My Mind (Original TC Review)

Play It Again Sam [PIAS]: 2008

(2015 Update:
I keep thinking Slave Of My Mind will wear off on me, the attributes I found charming back in 2008 finally sounding campy or derivative. I keep thinking the only reason I gave it such praise was for its lack of things I disliked back then - the electro-fart nonsense, the minimal plonk-wank, the stoopid-club fodder. It never happens though, the thin line between tasteful and wack continuously toed with finesse. This is a fun album for a mild bit of brooding dance music, and is a shame Kiko never followed up on it.

Not that he hasn't been busy though, still cranking out singles by the cart load. Taking in a few of his more recent ones, it seems Kiko's gone the way of house music again. Tech-house, deep house, a little techno on the side - all the usual sounds you'll find in typical underground clubs I guess. Aww, why you no darkwave no more, Keekee? It's bound for another resurgence in the near future if nu-new retrowave movements have any momentum going for them.)


IN BRIEF: A misstep, or misunderstood?

Christophe Dallaca, or Kiko as he’s more commonly known in the clubbing community, had a promising leap into recognition during the first half of this decade. A part of the French techno connection that was injecting elements of italo and New Beat into their music, he was amongst the early adopters of electroclash, and even survived the backlash with subsequent acid hits such as Jack In The Box. Yet, while compatriots such as The Hacker and Vitalic have maintained a respectable profile as the years went on, Kiko seems to have faded off.

Do I have an answer for such occurring? It could lie within his second album, Slave Of My Mind. It would seem, as with so many others this past year, the Frenchman’s been influenced by the German aesthetic. Not to say Kiko didn’t have an inclining for moody minimalism in the past but not to the degree we have on this album. Gone is the italo, and even his native country’s influence is mostly absent; as such, so is much of what made Kiko… well, Kiko.

And unfortunately for Monsieur Dallaca, he isn’t adding anything to the German sound that hasn’t been touched upon for the last couple years. When everyone from Dutch trance producers to UK prog jocks to nearly every house producer under the sun are taking a stab at it, Kiko would have had to do something utterly revolutionary to stand out from the glut. Sadly, Slave Of My Mind doesn’t have anything close to that, and as a result we are left with a collection of tracks that are nicely produced but difficult to distinguish from the pack. Thus, Kiko fades from public consciousness.

That said, Slave Of My Mind does venture into territory few seem willing to frequent: darkwave… of a sort. The titular track and World End Rock Up reach into the gloom that made up much of the industrial-goth sound that’s been quite popular in German circles, all the while using melodramatic-yet-slight synth strings to sell the vocal angst. Wrap it up in techno beats, and you have a pair of tracks that’ll probably come across a bit too ‘hands-up’ for serious crowds, yet too dismal for general audiences. This easily makes Slave Of My Mind and World End Rock Up the best tracks on Kiko’s album, as they aren’t blatantly pandering to any group in particular, and are infectious dance numbers to boot.

Aside from additional vocal number So Time, which is a relatively average stab at injecting angst into a typical electro-house tune, the rest of the tracks don’t venture far off the murk-techno path. And although this is nothing any connoisseur of techno wouldn’t have heard before, Kiko still manages to craft hooks that are quite infectious despite being comparatively subtle; it’s difficult writing off stuff like PH-1 and Sunburn when they so easily get lodged in your head. He even takes a competent stab at that ambiguously named sub-genre neo-trance, throwing spritely glitch-melodies in Preludia and Alone In The Dark; it’s what Sander van Doorn’s album could have sounded like if the Dutchman had made a point in his tracks rather than dickering around with go-nowhere ultra-effects builds.

What Slave Of My Mind could have done without, however, are the three ambient doodles thrown about the album. They aren’t altogether awful, mind, just rather pointless; I’d have preferred seeing one of the b-sides to the singles show up instead (Maximale would have made for a killer contribution!).

I’m sure there are a number of folks out there that would disagree with my assessment of Kiko’s latest; after all, he’s no longer the Kiko most enjoyed years back, nor will he win much favor with the ‘I are serious techno serious fan’ groups. Damn it though, this is my review and despite the rough edges, Slave Of My Mind is quite enjoyable. You won’t be blown away by it, but it’s still entertaining from start to finish, which is more than can be said for most albums on store shelves. Put this one in the front-running for the Unduly Neglected Albums Of 2008 category.

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

Ott - Skylon (Original TC Review)

Twisted Records: 2008

(2015 Update:
Nothing helps appreciation of an album grow like being exposed to inferior examples of the genre. Not that I didn't enjoy Ott's second LP way back when, but I felt his production a bit too slick for a trippy style like psy-dub. What he does have, however, is flow, sounds and samples making sense in their utilization. Since Skylon dropped, I've heard all manner of tracks that throw in so much wibble, it renders tracks nearly unlistenable, and the advent of dubstep mid-range random wobble often made matters worse. Less really is more in some cases, y'know.

Ott hasn't been up to much on the production front since Skylon. He released another LP in 2011 called Mir, which I haven't heard because rumor mill contends he also went a little dubsteppy on that one. *sigh* No one could escape it that year, so I don't blame him catering to the festival market a little. Maybe I'll give it a check sometime, but considering I've yet to even hear Blumenkraft in full, I'm not in any rush for more Ott music. Skylon's plenty for the time being.)

IN BRIEF: Warm fuzzy feelings.

As my fellow writer [Jack Moss] said, “Another psy-dub album?” I suppose he has a point - for a genre of music that maintains a highly niche following, we do tend to cover a fair amount of it. However, the enigmatic Ott has garnered himself a higher profile than your average psy wibbler, having provided studio production and engineering for several rock bands before delving heavier into electronic music. It was his pairing up with psy legend Simon Posford for the Hallucinogen remix album In Dub that gained Ott the most critical notice though, and has since often worked with as collaborator on several high-profile releases (Shpongle and Dub Trees, to namedrop just a couple).

Having fiddled away in studios for most of his career, it came as something of a welcomed surprise when Ott released a full-length album of original material way back in 2003. Although Blumenkraft didn’t receive huge recognition beyond the genre’s faithful, it did cement the reclusive producer as one to keep an eye out on for future releases. Half a decade since that solo debut, Ott provides his follow-up in Skylon.

And where do we find The Ott (yes, this is the only name he provides) in this year of 2008? Not moving that far, to be honest. Much of his psy-dub execution remains unchanged, within his sonic scope and the genre as a whole; anyone who’s had a passing familiarity with this kind of music since even the Megadog era won’t find much innovation. Reggae rhythms, trippy atmospherics, cultural-fusion, ethnic samples... stop me if you have heard this before.

What Skylon lacks in inventiveness, however, Ott more than makes up for in musicianship. Mellow melodic moments that move the mind and soul? Yep. Catchy chants that hook into your mind? You bet. Intriguing effects-play that tickle the ol’ psyche in imaginative ways? Ya’, guy. Beats and bass giving your feet a case of the funky shuffles? F’sure. There may not be many songs offered on this album, but each one delivers in a way that is quite satisfying as the CD plays through.

In case that broad stroke of a description isn’t incentive enough for you to check Skylon out, here are some highlights to pique your curiosity further: The Queen Of All Everything, after lazily cruising along with melody, hits a lovely little synth climax - not to be outdone, dub-cut Signals From Bob pulls the same, with results that are thrilling for the ears; Daisies And Rubies is quite the free-flowing bit of spacey dub, with musical indulgences to spare, but the theremin towards the end is a delight to hear; if Ott was ever given the opportunity to cross over, the bhangra-influenced Rogue Bagel proves he definitely has the chops to pull it off; just as potent a dancefloor weapon is Roflcopter, where dubby breaks, cheeky samples, and trippy effects make this track a potent weapon for those outdoor parties.

Lowlights, then? None, really. About the only fault one could be nitpicky about is sometimes Ott’s production can come across as too polished. While it never seems as though he’s unintentionally stripped the soul of his music in the way other studio-obsessives have, nor does Skylon really have any of those pure unpredictable psychedelic moments that some of the best psy-dub albums of the past contain.

Of course, there’s also the argument this isn’t the kind of music that everyone will enjoy, but if psy-dub isn’t your bag then chances are you haven’t even read this far to begin with. Besides, Ott has managed to produce an album that should be appealing to those looking to get their feet wet. Although long-time connoisseurs of the genre may come away somewhat underwhelmed, Skylon offers more than enough infectious rhythms, pleasing melodies and engaging harmonies to please all parties.

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

BushX - Sixteen Stone

Interscope Records: 1994/1996

This being a Canadian blog, I must call this band BushX. The Can-Con Commission is ruthless, often breaking knees over preserving our heritage, including making sure a home-grown Bush band doesn't get overshadowed by a foreign Bush band. What's funny is with the immense popularity of Gavin Rossdale's group, Roy Kenner's group got more publicity for their infringement lawsuit than any of their music garnered - from the Gen-X crowd anyway. What's even funnier is it worked, my brain still subconsciously treating this album as a BushX record, not a Bush one. This, despite the fact BushX technically no longer must be called BushX within our borders. Guess after London Bush disbanded for a while, Toronto Bush saw little need for anal-retentive clarification of whose Bush is whose.

Anyhow, Sixteen Stone. This was a ridiculously popular album back in the day, though I'm hard pressed to think of anyone admitting they throw it on anymore. It certainly hasn't aged as terribly as many other post-Nirvana grunge bands, but nor does it have the gritty charm of the original Seattle invasion. BushX sound just a little too polished with their distortion, a little too clean-cut in their angst, a little too big label produced for a supposed grassroots music scene. And yet almost no one initially wanted to sign them. Grunge from the UK? Balderdash!

Super success notwithstanding, the band has a humble beginning, Gavin and fellow guitarist Nigel Pulsford joining forces through a mutual love of Pixies. They're competent musicians, knowing their way around feedback and riffs that are heavy, dreary, and all that good grunge stuff. I dunno though, it all feels off, even to these ears that have as little exposure to the genre as a '90s teenager could hope to achieve. Matters aren’t helped when Gavin just doesn't strike me as a 'proper' grunge leading man, y'know? I cannot deny he's got stage presence, a look and voice just as impressive as Cobain's wretchedness, Scott Weiland's hot mess, and Eddie Vedder's pearly whites. Wouldn't he be better served fronting a traditional heavy alt-rock band though?

Whatever. Machinehead’s a kick-ass tune, no one can ever deny that. Most of the other songs rock well enough for a casual listen, and I’m sure almost every girl made out to Glycerine before Aerosmith stole BushX’s teen dance thunder. Hell, even Ishkur was a big enough fan to get this limited edition 2CD version with a bonus live recording included. Explain yourself there, mang.

Ishkur: “I had that? I had no idea.”

Dammit, doesn't everyone obsess over their CDs?

Honestly, I was curious to hear how disc two sounded, whether the studio polish of CD1 capably translated to stage performance. Screaming girls aside (because of course), it was pretty cool, the band sounding much looser and Gavin’s singing straining in a cool sort of way. Maybe the band realized this rougher sound served their music better, going with Steve Albini for their second album. It didn’t serve their sales though.

Dogon - The Sirius Expeditions

World Domination Recordings: 1998

I’ve probably said what I’m about to write before, but I’ve been writing these reviews for nearly thirty-two months now. I’m bound to repeat myself a few times, return to salient points, and reiterate former rants when appropriate after a ton of time has passed between. And this fact, this tidbit of aged wisdom I’m about to impart, it needs repeating, must be repeated so we all remember its sage advice such when another generation emerges that deserves the knowledge. Whatever is this bastion of high intellect I’ve bequeathed upon thee hence, and shall do so posthaste? Yes, what is this peon of insight that will bring clarity of mind and soul to all that who shall now read it?

An album like Dogon’s The Sirius Expeditions would never have gotten attention without the ‘brick & mortar’ music shop, and that’s a darn shame.

Actually, I don’t know if that’s true anymore, what with a million and one micro-meme genres popping up every year now. A lot of those seem to start out as a joke though, something done as a lark to impress fellow young bedroom producers on a /mu/ hub, but man oh man do they get attention. Dogon, however, have some serious talent behind them, musicians that know their way around a studio and song craft. They’re loosely ambient, but that doesn’t stop them from going all esoteric with pseudo-jungle beats and whatever it is they’re doing in Plexus (big beat acid Orb jam?). They do ridiculously sentimental New Age tunes (Pah), mysterious ethnic –fusion dub (The Round Buddha Factory, Melonheart), sun-kissed hippie festival glaze-outs (a cover of Pink Floyd’s Fat Old Sun, and sorta’ follow-up Joven Flaca Luna), and brooding, meditative ambience (Locus Voci, The Unknowable). Naturally, the titular twelve-minute cut runs the gamut of all these features, then goes for the super-epic orchestral build to sell that cosmic journey.

Okay, I’m way overselling The Sirius Expeditions. The tonal shift throughout this album is jarring, making for a difficult playthrough. This is the sound of a group (primarily Miguel Noya and Paul Godwin, with assorted musicians joining in for the fray) with a ton of ideas but knowing full well their reach will be limited. Lord Discogs lists scant else by Dogon, two other albums and little more. So they go for the gusto, indulging in all their idiosyncrasies while proudly proclaiming “we’re not commercial, we’ve came to grips with ourselves with that”. It’s a wacky ride that’s at times exhilarating, other times charming, but equal parts confounding. I’ve played this many times over, thinking this will be the time it all clicks, yet something consistently holds me back.

Hey, at least I’m giving it repeated plays, something that can’t be said of many other CDs in my collection. And I’d never have gotten it too, if it hadn’t been idling on that Virgin Megastore shelf so many years ago. Praise be the random chance purchases, and all the bizarre musics that may come with them.