Kraftwelt - Electric Dimension

Hypnotic: 1996

Everyone always asked, “What sort of music might Kraftwerk make in the ‘90s?” Music about bikes, most likely, and they did too, once the 2000s made it very hip to sound like Kraftwerk again (especially if you were the real deal). Before that though, the Düsseldorf posse essentially bowed out of the ‘90s with The Mix, seldom heard from in the ensuing decade and leaving a slew of folks inspired by their work to make their own interpretations and reimagining of the Kraftwerk stylee. Okay, it was more a smattering than a slew, retro-electro revivalism still a few years off, but one act broke out of outright obscurity into quirky side-glancing with their efforts: Kraftwelt. What’s that, you’ve already read the Audio Science side-project back-history in my Retroish review? Well then, let’s just get right into the first album, Electric Dimension.

I suspect Misters (*deep breath*) Oldenborg, Christiansen, Schmidt, and Gylsen had ideas for a Kraftwerk type album long gestating before Hypnotic gave them a green light to go forward with it. How else to explain Electric Dimension arriving as a fully realized concept LP a year after their contributions to Trancewerk Express (Cleopatra’s Kraftwerk tribute CD)? Why, there’s even short interludes of mechanical chugging (Clockworked), future-land terraces (Neocafe), and cyber-city vistas (In The Rubbertree Forest), giving a track count of a whopping nineteen in total! Most cuts hover around the four-minute range and work in some aspect of Kraftwerk’s signature sounds: modulating radio pulses, quirky Moog melodies, bare-bones electro rhythms, starry-eyed looks at futurism. Missing, however, are robot voices, catchy pop moments, and a sense of innovative craftsmanship that defined so much of Kraftwerk’s output.

Obviously, no one could replicate the band that Ralf and Florian built, Kraftwerk very much a product of their krautrock time. And nor should anyone replicate them for that matter, the music made in those eras perfectly filling the pop-leaning, experimental testing, rhythmic savvy electronic void folks had yet realized needed filling. Newer genres like electro and techno grew from their works, so it’s just as well Kraftwelt’s sound leans more Detroit and post-Berlin Wall German. They still retain a certain futuristic kitch in some of their tracks (Vox Box, Adventures In Orienta, Sci-Fi Memento, Bon Voyage), but others are simply following the dystopian Detroit approach to electro (1187, Confusion, the titular cut) while using sounds that may have featured in a Kraftwerk cut. Not quite a tribute act, then.

Electric Dimension is still an interesting album though, especially for something released in the mid-‘90s. Ain’t no one was making electro sounding like this, and seldom ever since, most retro-futurists and electro fetishists going for grit and gauche rather than Metropolis allure. There still isn’t enough substance behind Kraftwelt to warrant a second album’s worth of material, much less that overkill of the single Deranged (original track isn’t even that good). As a one-off dabbling in sounds and styles of a bygone era of electronic music though, Electric Dimension is worth the diversion.

The Shamen - Boss Drum

Epic: 1992

Nope, I still don't get it. Okay, there's songcraft on display with this album, and I cannot deny a few of these tunes getting my head bobble on. Other tracks though, they just sound undercooked, rote rave filler even for the year 1992. I appreciate The Shamen may not have been at the top of their game with Boss Drum, the tragic drowning of bandmate Will Sinnott deflating some of their creative spark. With an LP that turned out as commercially successful as this one did though, I expected more, something richer than a smattering of catchy tunes rounded out with stock UK acid house rhythms. It makes what The Prodigy were up to the same year all the more dynamic, corny chipmunk vocals and all – to say nothing of proper underground acts and burgeoning ‘intelligent techno’ sorts.

But first, how did we get here? What was it that made The Shamen so darned popular that their acid albums could reach platinum sales, urging similar 'indie rock goes rave' acts like Primal Scream, EMF, and Jesus Jones to have a go? Truly it t’was a sign of the times, a youth movement within the UK seldom seen anymore, where sheer scene popularity could propel any act to the top of the charts, radio play be damned. Of course, it didn’t hurt The Shamen were chummy with credible names like Oakenfold, Orbital, and Mixmaster Morris, very soon getting plenty other up-and-coming cool producers in on their singles for remix action. They may have had the chart success, but kept a foot in the warehouse parties and illegal raves just the same. Then it all went tits up, the group becoming too successful with obvious chart chasers while the second Summer Of Love ground to a sudden and crushing halt. Almost overnight, The Shamen came off a relic of an innocent time, where silly tunes like Ebeneezer Goode could pass off as convincing. No, time for rave music to get serious, dark, gritty, and strictly for the underground.

Its remarkable how much of a flash-point Boss Drum comes off like now, the last big hurrah of UK acid house. There’s still a pile of chipper, lovey-dovey feel good vibes oozing from tracks like Space Time, Phorever People, and chill-out cut Scientas, as though The Shamen believed the party would never end. On the other hand, tracks like goofball ragga-house Comin’ On and throwback rave cut Livrae Solidi Denari (I see what you did there, har har) suggest they were running thin on fresh ideas too. Also, I can’t decide if Re:Evolution is brilliant on the production front (that slow build!), or utterly naff due to Terence McKenna’s ongoing hippie-drippy monologue.

One thing I must give The Shamen credit for though is the titular cut of Boss Drum, one of the earliest examples of the emergent dark, chugging genre of progressive house. Not that I figure they intended it to be held up with the likes of Leftfield, but props for that, eh?

Adham Shaikh - Basswalla

Black Swan Sounds: 2015

As finely crafted his ambient compositions are, Adham Shaikh couldn’t keep recycling them into a lengthy career. Okay, he could, though it’d be difficult topping Journey To The Sun, and given the various musical influences he’s encountered in his travels, you know ol’ Adham would feel the creative itch to explore them. That naturally led to more ethnic fusion tracks, no doubt helping his headline status on the outdoor festival circuit. The times though, they keep ever changing, and bass heavy jams from the realms of dubstep and glitch hop have encroached even the crustiest hippie tent. Instead of retreating from these developments, Mr. Shaikh’s taken them on full-stop with his latest album, Basswalla, a concept I won’t deny being apprehensive about. Too many psy dub and world beat types who've jumped on that bandwagon turn out tunes that come off like rote imitations of those genres.

And sure enough, the opening titular cut delivered what I expected. There's a solid beat in there somewhere, but man, why throw in all those out-of-sync mid-range wobbles? Yeah, I get it – it's what all the dubstep guys do, but it's never sounded much good, no matter what a generation of rage-heads claim. It sounds like ol’ Adham’s only included them because it's just what fans of the sound expect to hear, damn the pointlessness of it all.

Of course, Mr. Shaikh promptly slaps some humble pie into my cynical face immediately after, delivering the solid album of funky, worldy vibes I was hoping to get. Second cut Sabadub has the hallmarks of a track-long build, yet doesn’t leave me feeling wanting in the least. Collective hits the groovy dub business with plenty of ethnic dabbling and rising harmonies. Vibe Hunter’s a bit goofier with its hip-hop and electro funk leanings, but follow-up Beyond I comes correct with mysterious ambient noodling before unleashing a proper world-beat funk jam. Still Shakin… hot damn, that vocal at the end! India-meets-Flamenco Rumba Dub has more modulating bass throbs, but it’s not at all obnoxious as so much dubstep goes. By comparison, Crossroads is almost quaint, the sort of ethnic-fusion dub tune you’d expect of Adham Shaikh’s discography, but he closes out with an incredibly clever track in Water Prayer. Already seriously ear-wormy and hip shaky, the added use of splashing water as another piece of percussion is wonderful, something I don’t hear nearly enough, at least not in the way utilized here. The only other track that felt out of place is Cultivation, a bhangra-hop tune including a rap from local Shamik. Yeah, the man responsible for an ambient classic now has a rapper. Weird.

Also, one more niggling point. The album’s called Basswalla, but if I’m honest, there didn’t seem much bass-bass; y’know, the ultra-rumbling kind that punishes sub-whoofers. It’s all very clean low-ends, never overwhelming other frequencies. It’s not a deal breaker, the tunes on this album sounding find as they are. Man though, a serious ear-drum rattler or two would have been mint.

Alucidnation - Aural Architecture

Interchill Records: 2013

A lucid nation is the state of which my head currently resides, swimming in post-festival flu and medications galore. I was so sure I'd escaped it too, not feeling any symptoms even after a few days back home. That's what I get for being so cocky about my health on the ride home, my car mates all suffering from wretched states of being as I casually smirked. Oh, why didn't I wear that filter for the nine hour exodus? Now I must endure a six day stretch of work while being ghetto high. Okay, enough grumbling.

Alucidnation is Bruce Bickerton, a chap who's been involved in the chill side of electronic music for some fifteen years now. He got his break while involved with Big Chill Recordings, a group also known for making a tidy buck with chill-out themed music festivals in the UK. Primarily though, he self-releases his own music, much of the Alucidnation back-catalogue available only through mail-order. And, hoo boy, is there ever a lot of it, so there must be something to this 'press to order' music business model.

Every so often though, Mr. Bickerton puts something out on a proper label. His last such venture was with Interchill Records, who have plucked the odd Alucidnation track for their compilations over the years. Guess both parties felt it appropriate giving the fiercely independent project a little extra promotional love, and a well deserved bump at that. It's been too long since Tom Middleton gave Alucidnation some spotlight way back on The Sound Of The Cosmos - time for new ears to discover this guy.

A self-described melancholic, the music on Aural Architecture reflects such moods without going too mopey about it. Really, the first few tracks are rather chipper for a music intended for the downtime of one’s day. Protocol grooves along with a chill Balearic vibe, Spring breaks out the ol’ acoustic guitar alongside a soft, high tempo that’d make Solarstone weak in the knees, and Jammy Dodger gets my Petar Dundov senses tingling.

Things go dubby for a few couple tracks after, then Aural Architecture melts into a stream of dreamy piano pieces (The View From The Balcony I, Tresaith, A Place In The Sunshine), ultra-chill dub rhythms (A View From The Balcony II, A Melancholic), and pure ambient drone (One Zero Two), all wrapped in an aura of static fuzz. Summing all these various tones and styles is the nigh eleven-minute long closer Genetics, a strong wrap-up to a lovely album sending the listener out with a blissy smile. D’aw, I’m getting all the feels here.

I can’t deny much of what I’ve written reads like many other chill-out LPs floating out there like so much fluffy clouds on a sunny day. This one though, this particular cloud, there’s something about it, catching your eyes just a little longer as it gently morphs into other forms passing across the blue above. Aural Architecture’s definitely worth that lingering gaze.

ACE TRACKS: July 2015

So Neil Young’s pulled his music from online streaming services. At least, until he feels the audio quality meets the high demand standards he deems worthy of his music. Aww, c’mon, mang, I pay for Spotify Premium, I gets the best possible quality from them. Why you gonna’ deny me the music in your discography that I really don’t have much interest in buying? Now I’ll never hear Landing On Water or Fork In The Road. And what of those who look forward to your songs in these monthly Playlists? No, no, I can sense all of your disappointment, Mr. Young’s music now as out of digital reach as Beatles albums. Dark times indeed, but here’s the ACE TRACKS of July 2015 regardless.


Full track list here.

MISSING ALBUMS:
Sequential - Sequential
Tobias. - A Series Of Shocks
The Beatles - Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band
Chris Duckenfield - Sheffield Mix Sessions
Aldrin - Singapore Tribal
Dogon - The Sirius Expeditions
Various - Slumberland

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 5%
Percentage Of Rock: 16%
Most “WTF?” Track: Any of the Eminem raps will turn your head if you’re a prude.

Review-wise, this was my most productive July yet. Not sure where I got the extra motivation to plow through it all – maybe those two weeks off in June did me more good than expected. Or perhaps I was simply anxious to hear all these disparate albums, compilations, and mixes, some of which were quite new to my ears (oh hi one-hit wonder grunge bands!). Others were CDs I’d long had thoughts about and were eager to share. This did leave for a rather eclectic collection of tunes though, so I went with another alphabetical arrangement, sans the inclusion of Depeche Mode’s CD1 Singles and Paul van Dyk’s CD2 Seven Ways at the end.

Incidentally, Spotify has sorted out their Local Files issue, so a complete tracklist including all the missing album songs is available, bringing the total runtime of this playlist a whopping 8.5 hours. Drawback of cranking out consistent reviews, I guess: all those ACE TRACK selections. Maybe I ought to start reviewing crummier albums?

The Beach Boys - Smiley Smile/Wild Honey

Capitol Records: 1967/1990

I didn't get too detailed about the music on Brian Wilson's Smile because it's so much more fun comparing those finished songs to the weird versions found on Smiley Smile. As mentioned, Wilson had the album pretty well planned out, but stress and timing (curse ye', Sgt. Pepper's!) derailed whatever progress he managed. The lead singles in Heroes And Villains and Good Vibrations still made it to the market more or less as intended, but the accompanying tunes were nowhere near properly realized. Part of that is due to their very nature within Smile's arrangement, often interstitial compositions building a thematic whole. As standalone songs though, they don't work as effectively, and definitely not in the versions we get on Smiley Smile.

For instance, Smile has Vega-Tables a bouncy bit of pop declaring one's love for, um, vegetables. Look, the vocals are catchy as Hell, and it’s cute hearing actual recordings of celery and carrots being chomped on. Vegetables, as it's known on Smiley Smile, is more minimalist, like a subdued hoe-down, including blowing into a glass bottle for a rhythm - oh, and Paul McCartney provided vegetable chomps on this version, so I guess that's one point in S.S.'s favour. Meanwhile, Wind Chimes sounds all eerie (!) and creepy here rather than reflective and charming in Smile. Then Fall Breaks Back To Winter is tripped-out woodblock and cuckoo clock nonsense, whereas the harmonic ideas are fully realized in the orchestral firestorm that is Mrs. O'Leary's Cow. And let's not get into the songs with tape manipulations and stoner dullness. Such wacky things might have been acceptable in the '60s, it’s clear most of these were studio jams used to filled space on an expectant album that had Good Vibrations on it.

I can't say enough just how brilliant that song is. When you break each portion down and hear what's going on, which instrument is being used (that theremin!), where each melody and harmony complements each other, its small wonder that it took months to complete. Selling that point are a few bonus supplements on this CD, one with a studio rehearsal, and another an early run-through. I'd say these features are only for obsessives, but I count myself among such folk when it comes to Good Vibrations, so there it is.

Speaking of bonuses, the perk of releasing '60s back-catalogue onto CD is the ample space the aluminum provided, such that they could cram two old-timey albums onto one disc. The follow-up to Smiley Smile was a throwback soul album titled Wild Honey, which some claim is one of The Beach Boys' best albums post-Pet Sounds. It's certainly a different LP in their discography, more emphasis on rhythm and blues than sweet pop harmonies. It also gave Carl Wilson a chance to lead on a few songs, and his coarser singing voice definitely added a rougher veneer to a group still thought of as preppy boys. Goes to show what aping Rolling Stones can do for one’s image.

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.