Dub Pistols - Speakers And Tweeters

Sunday Best Recordings: 2007

Dub Pistols were a name I recall always seeing around at the turn of the millennium, but seldom heard much of. Yeah, there was that remix for Banco de Gaia's I Love Baby Cheesy, and I'm fairly certain I aired out their rubs for Freestylers and The Crystal Method. Glancing at their other remix credits on Lord Discogs though, and lo there are a ton more for the likes of Korn, Limp Bizkit, Filter, and Rob Zombie. Wait, didn't these guys do big beat and dub back in the day? Why were they palling around with nu-metal noggers? Deep sixing their career for a while it seems, nearly a half-decade gap of material from Dub Pistols between those early days to where we find them with Speakers And Tweeters.

Or maybe they were busy figuring things out (and a stable label) for themselves. Their debut Point Blank may have rode the Fatboy Slim train to some minor success, but their year 2000 follow-up Six Million Ways To Die found more favour with its reggae roots and dub stylings. If Dub Pistols wanted a successful relaunch of their career in the mid-‘00s, the wise course of action was keeping to those strengths.

Why, then, does this album sound so watered down and tepid? Instead of beats with some grit and vibes for the rude bwoy heads, we get sunny reggae and ample amounts of ska. Hell, the lead single for this was a cover of Blondie’s Rapture, and a rather tame go at that. I’m getting serious déjà-vu with other tunes too (Gave You Time’s a dead ringer for a Moby song, and I’m almost certain Cruise Control is style-biting a long-forgotten ‘80s electro record). Some tracks work out well for the ‘fun times in summertime’ vibe, Running From The Thoughts and Open having a decent bounce going for them. So much of Speakers And Tweeters comes off like reggae for beginners though, a palatable starter’s dish for those who are looking to move beyond Bob Marley’s Legend.

It’s like Dub Pistols realized this music did big business for a brief while in the late ‘90s, so maybe a market remains. For sure I could throw this on at a BBQ and folks would amicably nod their head while it plays out. Compared to their other releases though, Speakers And Tweeters is a letdown. Such a shame, because there are glimmers of what these guys can bring (spaced-out opening cut Speed Of Light, proper dub reggae Stronger). Were they aiming for more commercial appeal? If so, it paid off, with three albums released since this one, including The Return Of The Pistoleros just this year. And taking a quick gander at those, the ol’ Dub Pistols charm is intact, tunes finding ways of keeping with the times (dubstep! ragga jungle!) while sticking to the roots and dub that worked so well for them way back when. Check out those albums instead if you need an introduction to this group.

OutKast - The Love Below

Arista: 2003

Of course the reason a high percentage of folks bought OutKast's last (and final?) proper album was for that one song on Mr. Benjamin's solo effort, The Love Below. It was such a hit, such a smash, such a pop culture revelation, it turned André 3000 into a superstar overnight, the video serving as much a spotlight on his many stage talents as anything music related. It probably could have launched a semi-successful solo career had Hollywood not lured him away for so long, ushering in a new era of rappers forgoing the standard hip-hop beats of the day for more funk, soul, jazz, and blues fusions. Where you could croon to R&B while mixing in electro synths while sticking to a conceptual theme for the full eighty minutes a CD offered. Where you could be as quirky as you could go, all the while exposing a sensitive side almost unheard of in the world of rap. Come to think of it, hip-hop has come around to such developments in recent years, though most keep pointing to Kanye West as the spearhead, The Love Below practically forgotten these days.

Maybe hip-hop just wasn't ready for it. For sure they didn't mind influences from Prince and Funkadelic making their ways into their jams, but only for a track or three, and always with the sounds of the street kept intact. This was a full-on, take-it or leave-it indulgence, and save a few of those killer, undeniable earworms OutKast could always be counted upon, many left it in the rear view. Even those who only came for Hey Ya!, knowing nothing of the group's history in the Atlanta rap scene, were challenged by the oddities André 3000 wilfully filled The Love Below with. Lord knows when folks bring up this double-LP, they always speak of Speakerboxxx with more fondness, finding Big Boi’s ode to Southern hip-hop the easier to take of the two.

Listening to The Love Below a decade on, and all that lovely hindsight firmly reminding us this could end up being the final OutKast album, it makes things much easier to appreciate what André 3000 was shooting for here. For sure you can mix in some askew blues moments (Take Off Your Cool, Prototype) with your broken-beatnik electro (A Life In The Day Of Benjamin André, Pink & Blue). Or why not some frantic jazzstep (Spread, My Favorite Things) with classic jazz vibes (Love Hater, She’s Alive). Honestly, The Love Below sounds like Mr. Benjamin is exercising every muse he never fully explored in his years of OutKast, all in one go. The whole ‘love’ concept of the album is just something to hang all these disparate tunes on, and while it’s all interesting to hear, Lord help us if a b-side version of this is ever revealed. It probably didn’t need to run the full eighty minutes, though I cannot deny being intrigued by every next track as ol’ André reveals another of his many tastes.

OutKast - Speakerboxxx

Arista: 2003

To write about OutKast’s double-LP opus Speakerboxxx / The Love Below is ultimately an exercise in doubling one’s word count, the two ‘solo albums’ so radically different from each they demand divided attention. Fortunately for me, I’ve long set a precedent of reviewing individual CDs of multi-disc releases, and if there’s ever an album that needs this, it’s OutKast’s technical last album (to date). No, I don’t count Idlewild, the soundtrack merely one part of that project’s main focus: making a movie about OutKast, set in an old-timey ragtime era, because of course they would.

Before venturing into Big Boi’s album, here’s a bit of forgotten trivia first. When the double-disc came out, the CD you’d see upon opening the tray was André 3000’s The Love Below. This, despite Speakerboxxx long considered the CD1 due to its position in the main title, being the advertised front cover, and the name everyone automatically associates with this release. I bring this up because it points to one of the idiosyncrasies that made OutKast such a unique entity within hip-hop’s landscape. They thrived on dashing expectations, whether something big and bold like genre fusions on their albums, to something simple like tricking hip-hop heads into playing the disc they wouldn’t care for if they weren’t paying attention.

Speakerboxxx though, they’d be totally fine with, especially all those trunk rattling Southern bass jams. Big Boi always was the more ‘traditional’ hip-hop part of OutKast, and with a full LP to indulge himself, unleashes plenty of beats for the booty and body, and tons of rhymes for the lyrical heads. Ghetto Musick, Tomb Of The Boom, Flip Flop Rock, and Last Call have no problem getting rowdy and crunk for the sake of it, while funky soul worms its way in Unhappy, Bowtie, The Way You Move, and Reset. And though Dré 3000 doesn’t do much in the way of rhyming on Speakerboxxx, he does lend his production to a few esoteric cuts (Ghetto Musick, War, Church), bringing this CD as close to the vibe most point as vintage OutKast.

Not that Big Boi lacks lyrical back-up without his partner in crime afoot. Mr. Patton has plenty on his mind to spit, getting a few street tales and perspectives out on War, Knowing and The Rooster. He’s not hesitant in calling in some outside support too, Speakerboxxx featuring one of OutKast’s biggest guest spots ever with Jay-Z dropping in along with your usual plethora of Southern rap names (Killer Mike, Goodie Mob, Ludacris, Lil’ Jon & The East Side Boyz). At a time when crunk was primed for its takeover of all things hip-hop, it’s quite refreshing hearing such bass heavy music with some effort put into lyrics. Hell, Last Call with Lil’ Jon is probably one of the best non Lil’ Jon-produced Lil’ Jon tracks out there (pst, it was André 3000 at the console there too). Oh, the wonders we could have visited upon had OutKast kept going this route in the ‘00s.

Der Dritte Raum - Spaceglider

Virgin/Ultra Records: 1998/1999

Of course I’d have Spaceglider in my collection (or Raumgleiter to the fine folks of Germanland). And I know what you’re thinking: I got this totally because of the cover, having no prior knowledge of who Der Dritte Raum is or even the famous tunes that came bundled within the album. Please, like I wouldn’t recognize “The Third Room” from his Harthouse days. Nor could I miss the omnipresent hits Hale Bopp and Polarstern, the two subdued hybrid anthems finding their way into numerous compilations, DJ sets, and the like. And why not, both tunes serving as perfect pieces for when a trance DJ wanted to go a little techno, or a techno DJ wanted to go a little trance – though it was almost always the former case. So naturally, upon discovering Der Dritte Raum was getting a new album out care of the Almighty Virgin (and promoted by Ultra in my lands), you bet I ordered a copy despite currently living in the hinterlands of Canada. I mean, just look at that cover! How could it not be cool?

Okay, buying Spaceglider truly was nothing but an impulse purchase based on nifty sci-fi artwork – at least I’m consistent. Having no actual prior knowledge of who Der Dritte Raum was wasn’t stopping my curiosity’s need to be sated. I had a feeling I’d be in safe hands though, the ordering promo blurb promising there’d be trance on this disc. At a time when trance had long abandoned its early cosmic themes and krautrock influences, seeing an album that implied some of those attributes within (Starship! Astronauts! German words!) gave me some hope I’d get the goods.

So imagine my fear upon hearing opening track Infrarot, a quirky bit of electro funk featuring a squawky sound like a robot beatboxing. Oh dear, what had I stumbled upon? True, genre dalliances was something Der Dritte Raum loved throwing about, even going proper-electro with Subraum and tech-house with a touch of jazzy swing in Tagnachtlied at the end of Spaceglider, all with mint results. Man though, was I fearing I’d landed in some IDM kitsch after that first cut.

Fear not, 1999 Sykonee, for it’s not long before Andreas Krüger is bringing all sorts of groovy techno and trance. As this is a mostly continuously mixed album, many tracks serve the needs for proper builds to Polarstern and Hale Bopp in that distinct, stripped-back, punctual Der Dritte Raum style, but always having enough strength to stand on their own too. Überdruck works a bit of acid funk, Irrfahrt bends its head down for some minimal action, and Lava fears not soaring into space on acid bliss. The main Spaceglider mix ends with more traditional techno before moving onto the aforementioned quirk tunes, making for a tidy album overall.

And quite a surprising one at that, Spaceglider resolutely old-school for a time when anything trance leaning demanded bigger and bolder. This would have been brilliant for 1994, but sounds bolder for 1998.

Various - Space Jazz

Quango Records: 2001

Space Jazz was another of the re-launched Quango Records' many quirky new compilations featuring future-leaning examples of classic musical styles. This, above all the others, probably piqued my interest the most, because space music, obviously. I was willing to let go of my bias against traditional jazz if it had cool cosmic sounds floating about. Come to think of it, this was probably the first jazzy CD I got that-

Eh? What's that, Lord Discogs? You demand I search your All-Knowing Archives for Space Jazz? But I have the CD right here in my hand. I can bring it up with a quick run through My Collection no problem. Well, if you insist. You do Know All, after all.

Hello, what's this? Another Space Jazz, by... L. Ron Hubbard? Wait, the Scientology guy? This can’t be... Oh my. This is... HAHAHAHA! Oh dear me, this looks awful! An actual soundtrack for Battlefield Earth, made in 1982, intended to be played while reading the original book. This must be a prank, a piss-take, a... Well I’ll be damned, it’s totally sincere. It even features ‘cutting edge’ electronic music technology, utilizing the Fairlight CMI for its compositions. Man, you just know this is gonna’ sound all kind of chintzy, like the worst aspects of easy-listening jazz with hopeless dated synth sounds. Are there any samples online? *searches* Oh my God! It’s more hilarious than I could have imagined! Brilliant! And I thought the Travolta movie was the worst possible interpretation of Battlefield Earth. Ahahaha, hooo! Dear me, what a riot. Bless thee, Lord Discogs, for preserving such artefacts of bountiful ridiculousness.

I apologize for that derailment. Sometimes though, you discover something so wonderful, so precious, so pure, it must be shared with all, even to the short-term detriment of a review. Like, I know I’ll never own L. Ron Hubbard’s Space Jazz, so why not do this while I have the chance, eh? Besides, it’s far more interesting than Quango’s Space Jazz. This compilation’s actually pretty darn good, but the internet’s all about spotlighting the obscure and nonsensical detritus of history.

What was my original angle anyway? Oh yeah. Quango’s Space Jazz being the first time I started giving nu-jazz some appreciation – at least, when not tied to Ninja Tune. The space theme was an instant hook for yours truly, figuring I’d hear some neat pads sounds and Moog synths among all the usual instrumental dexterity common of the scene. What I didn’t expect was something far dubbier with opener Chocolate Elvis from Tosca, and Boozoo Bajou on the rub. Then again, it was my first exposure to the Richard Dorfmeister project, so it makes all the sense now.

By and large though, Quango’s Space Jazz goes for trippy psychedelia throughout, featuring cuts from Meat Katie, Love TKO, Akasha, and Horsemilk. It also gets downright trip-hoppy in parts (Forward’s Modern Crimes, Solid Doctor’s Faustian Bargain), which isn’t all that spacey, but what the heck, I’ll take it.

Sync24 - Source

Ultimae Records: 2007

First, I can't believe I neglected making the Carbon Based Lifeforms connection with my previous Sync24 review three years hence. Well, no, that's not true – I can believe it, because the honest truth is I had yet to explore CBL's discography proper-like. I knew there was a connection since Lord Discogs told me Daniel Ringström’s name was involved with both, but cluing in on the tasty prospects of a solo project from one of Ultimae’s top tier acts eluded my powers of clairvoyance. For, at the time of writing about Comfortable Void, I had no idea CBL were one of Ultimae’s top tier acts. I simply lacked the frame of reference to appreciate them as such (re: had yet to hear Hydroponic Garden).

Second, even with all this newfound knowledge and extra apperception for the Sync24 moniker and Comfortable Void, I remain astounded by Mr. Ringström’s first album under the guise. Not for any sort of musical dexterity or super amazing killer-combos of rhythmic, melodic, and harmonic mastery that shakes me to my calcaneus. Quite the contrary, Source is a very subdued record, relentlessly calm and quiet, with so much space between the sounds it feels like I’m Ant-Man lost in a post-modern museum. And Ultimae’s released plenty of ambient and micro-dub CDs of this sort the past few years, but Source came out in 2007! The label was still highly dedicated to expansive, widescreen mixdowns, two of their biggest releases in Asura’s Life² and Solar Fields’ Earthshine coming out later that year. You’d occasionally hear such minimalist music on Ultimae’s compilations, but almost always serving as opening tone setters or closing denouements. Aside from the groovy slice of acid prog-chill White Pixels, Ringström never lets his music rise above a simmer in liveliness or volume on Source.

It’s dub techno that encourages losing oneself in small details between the soft beats and distant pads, using some of Ultimae’s more familiar markers as guides: psy dub in Cryptobiosis, ambient techno in Biota and Mborg, moody evocative ambience in Walk On Spheres, Replicant and Suspended Animation, and heart-melting passages in From A To A and Woodland. Plus, something new was added with Memloop: dubstep! Okay, it’s closer to the Burial brand of future garage, what with those shuffly rhythms and deep sub-harmonic bass. Memloop is also so minimally produced, it barely has any relation to the genre Hyperdub was getting famous for in 2007. Yet, here it is, well before most everyone else started jumping on the dubstep bandwagon, and provided by one of Ultimae’s most unassuming records up to that point.

Turns out, the rest of Ultimae was feeling what Source did, many future releases growing ever more minimalist, dubbed out, and sparse in sound, all the while maintaining their lush production standard. It’s quite ironic then, that the follow-up Sync24 album would go in an opposite route from that, making tracks with Oomph to them. Oh, Daniel, must you go so iconoclastic with your label mates?

ACE TRACKS: February 2013

And I’m finally done getting through albums starting with some form of “sound” at the start of its title. Who’d have thought so many musicians would associated their music with sounds, eh? And yet, even after going through a dozen of them, that’s still but a blip in the behemoth that is all of ‘S’ – we’re a long ways before getting out of this letter, my friends.

Speaking of lengthy runs of letters, anyone remember ‘E’? Man, that was a beast too, eating up nearly two month’s worth of reviews way back when. I also feel February 2013 was something of a turning point for this blog. It marked the half-year point, plus the 100th review too (what am I at now, 750?), convincing myself I could keep going at the clip I was without serious fatigue or disinterest creeping in. More importantly though, it got a lot of big albums from Very Important Artists into the archives, including BT, Prodigy, Underworld, Moby, and Madonna. Also, remarkably, this month was the first point of entry for two names that would come to fill many a month with their releases: Neil Young and Wu-Tang Clan. Wouldn’t surprise me if folks thought I got all my rock and hip-hop fixes from Pink Floyd and Bone Thugs-N-Harmony prior to that.


Full track list here.

MISSING ALBUMS:
Neil Young & Crazy Horse - Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere
Various - Evolution Of New Sounds
Various - Euro Dance Pool, Volume 1
Various - Euro Dance Pool, Volume 2
BT - ECSM
Erol Alkan - One Louder

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 33%
Percentage Of Rock: 5%
Most “WTF?” Track: Busta Rhymes featuring Mystikal - Iz They Wildin Wit Us & Getting Rowdy Wit Us (because like Hell you’ll keep up with the words they spittin’)

BT’s ECSM is not on Spotify. How is BT’s ECSM not on Spotify? Every other BT album is on Spotify. Okay, neither is that drone ambient neo-classical album Nuovo Morceau Subrosa, but that always struck me as a pure pet project, not intended for major commercial release. Then again, neither is This Binary Universe, another arty album but far better regarded than nearly anything Mr. Transeau’s done in fifteen years. So his super-serious music doesn’t get on Spotify, is that it? Still doesn’t explain ECSM’s absence though. Get with the program, Perfecto!

Not much else to say about this Playlist. As the opening number of tracks indicate, it’s a very ‘90s assortment of tunes, but then the ‘90s has an embarrassment of riches when it comes to electronic music. Yes, including the overplayed tunes that you just can’t get out of your head, even while transcending to outta’ space. (can you find another place?)

Peter Benisch - Soundtrack Saga (2015 Update)

Turbo Recordings: 2001

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review)

Oh yeah, this little CD. I've mentioned it a few three hundred times or so over the years now. It wouldn't surprise me if I've spent more words in other reviews talking about Peter Benisch than I'll allow myself within self-imposed word count here. Probably has something to do with preconceived failure in giving Soundtrack Saga adequate props. It was by no means my only praise-filled piece of early writing for TranceCritic, high scores also dropping for the likes of Sasha’s Xpander, Paul van Dyk’s The Politics Of Dancing, Drexciya’s Harnessed The Storm, and Delerium’s Karma. Those are all popular names though, established DJs and producers with strong track records, with me covering releases that had long been recognized as strong entries within their respective scenes. It didn’t matter that my writing was still finding its form, I could sloppily praise Xpander and readers would agree with me, because it’s practically common knowledge Xpander is awesome.

Soundtrack Saga though, that was a challenge. Peter Benisch was, and sadly remains, almost entirely unknown, in no small part due to his relative reclusiveness. It didn’t have to be that way, pals with several of Sweden’s top taste-makers of the late ‘90s (Adam Beyer, Joel Mull, the Dahlbäcks), often pairing with them for singles here and there. He even got an album out on Fax +49-69/450464 prior to this one, although Namlook’s print had fallen in stock for all but the die-hards by that time. Still, good ol’ Tiga must have liked the cut of Benisch’s ambient and chill jib, getting another album out of him in Soundtrack Saga (plus the charming Traxxdata as FPU, but that’s another review for later). And as I’ve gushed many times before, it was excellent, a gleaming jewel in an incredible bounty of gold from Turbo Recordings. This should have propelled Benisch to the forefront of ambient, downtempo, and chill music. It should...

Seems fate conspired to dictate otherwise. As great a release Soundtrack Saga was for Turbo Recordings, it remained an oddity within the label’s general discography. Obviously I enjoyed it, but for those counting on Turbo for classy house and trendy electro, this album probably passed them by. Then around the mid-‘00s, Turbo ceased CD production, had a blow-out sale on their back catalogue, and focused on grimey, trashy techno forever after. A guy like Benisch, already slightly out of place with the old Turbo, definitely had no future with this new direction. His name faded from discourse, along with his material.

Only that’s not entirely true, is it? His tracks make an occasional appearance on mixes from prominent jocks (James Zabiela, Jimmy Van M, Adam X), and very recently Benisch has emerged with the odd track and remix. Maybe Soundtrack Saga doesn’t have to be his lasting legacy, that he can be coaxed out of studio seclusion for another turn on the LP format. Carpe Sonum? Psychonavigation? I’m looking in your directions, dudes. I know you guys have the power!

The Beach Boys - Sounds Of Summer: The Very Best Of

Capitol Records: 2003

First, it was The Police and Boney M. Then, it was Raffi and Disney singalongs. After that... not a whole lot. Music, which had been such a vital part of my early childhood, ceased having much influence. It was those darn Transformers, you see, taking my attention away for a few years, soon replaced by all sorts of marketable cartoons and media. Who has time for bands and songs when there's more The Real Ghostbuster toys to get, or Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles bubblegum cards to buy, or Star Wars movies to obsess over? I still played the odd CD from my folks' collection, but seldom gave it much more thought than a passive distraction. One day though, after listening to a cheery compilation called Sun Jammin', the final track caught my attention like few songs had for a very, very long time. I had to hear more from this group, those sweet vocal harmonies, those starry-eyed lyrics of fun in the Caribbean sun and holiday bliss. The song was Kokomo.

Look, it was the '80s, and The Beach Boys’ most recent hit, so it was about the only way I'd have 'stumbled' upon them back then. Man though, after hearing that song, I scoured for more, the first time in my life I started digging for a specific group. It probably didn't hurt I was heavy into Archie Comics at the time (shad'up, we've all been there!), and saw kinship between the two representatives of clean-cut, all-American youth culture as envisioned by the late '50s and early '60s. I even compiled my findings onto my very first mixtape. True, all I had to work with was whatever was in my father's CDs, but as an initiation into the glorious world of music hunting obsession, The Beach Boys wasn't such a bad place to start.

Of course, had Tween Sykonee been around when Sounds Of Summer came about, I wouldn’t have needed to bother. There were numerous ‘Best Of’ and ‘Greatest Hits’ and ‘Essential Sounds’ on the market up through the ‘80s, but it didn’t seem The Beach Boys were quite done scoring the occasional charter even long after most figured their music way dated. Then the ‘90s hit and, well, yeah. With no new hits for a decade, the new millennium seemed as good a time as any for an authentic, definitive gathering of all their memorable, classic, vintage, glorious tunes. And Getcha Back, for some stupid reason (ugh... those ‘80s drums, so bad).

Sounds Of Summer is about as perfect a collection of Beach Boys music you could want without splurging on a zillion LPs for three or four great tunes surrounded by filler. It’s got all the surf rock hits, the hot-rodding car odes, the rowdy party tunes (Barbara Ann, so drunk), their introspective aging songs, and an assortment of odds and sods in the ensuing years. The only thing missing is selections from their wonderful Christmas album, but that’d defeat the ‘summer’ theme, wouldn’t it.

Thievery Corporation - Sounds From The Thievery Hi-Fi

Eighteenth Street Lounge Music/4AD: 1997/1998

This album was such a revelation when I first heard it, even if it was treading familiar ground to music that came before. Some genres though, I seldom grow tired of, and when they fall out of popular favour, the heart grows fonder for another fix. These days, such down periods are almost impossible, every damn thing available at any damn time for almost no damn price (gosh darn it!). The '90s though, that was a different era, one where cool genres could completely disappear from local scenes for years, yet cultivating a vibe in the unlikeliest places.

For yours truly, I had nary a hope of finding much ambient dub, loungy trip-hop, or spaced-out downtempo even on the best of days (re: lucking out on a trip to Big Van' City, son), so having Sounds From The Thievery Hi-Fi stumble into my Canadian hinterlands storefront was a godsend. If you happened to hang out in Washington, D.C. though, where Misters Garza and Hilton were plying their trade in the back-half of the ‘90s, you’d be inundated with their sweet, sweet dubby vibe. Also, Kruder & Dorfmeister, somewhere in Eastern Europe.

So Thievery Corporation proved they were keeping the spliff-heady downtempo dub alive, even if the similarities to the early works of Beyond Records were entirely coincidental. They joined forces, after all, upon meeting each other in a lounge while waxing nostalgic about old timey bossa nova music. That sound would go on to define most of their work, but at this early stage they’re still feeding off the trip-hop and reggae dub brand most downtempo was comfortable indulging in during the ‘90s.

And while it wouldn’t surprise me if the Thievin’ Corps. doesn’t care for these early efforts anymore, it’s difficult denying just how mint some of these tunes remain. 2001 Spliff Odyssey is perfectly titled, a sublime slice of lengthy cosmic dub that strips rhythms bare, lays just enough reverb on to lose your head in, and wraps it all with floating, filtered pad work – cheeky vocal snippets thrown in don’t hurt either. Other tracks like Shaolin Satellite, The Foundation, Walking Through Babylon, So Vast The Sky, and .38.45 follow a similar mould, each ace examples of this style, though not nearly as long as Odyssey.

Ah right, that ‘Thievery Corporation make too short of tracks” gripe I mentioned in The Mirror Conspiracy. Technically, I could say the same thing here, but as this is early Thievery, their music hasn’t evolved to the rich, dense soup it would later, most tunes sparse and simple. Even their bossa (Vivid, The Glass Bead Game, Incident At Gate 7) and Afro cuts (Universal Highness, The Oscillator) only scratch the surface, more content at remaining dub above all else. In this case then, short track lengths are fine, most getting in and providing their nice jam before moving on. It may be simple song writing, but damn if Garza and Hilton not hit that sweet, downtempo dub spot in the process.