OutKast - Stankonia

Arista: 2000

Wu-Tang Clan may have opened my ears to the possibilities of what hip-hop could sound like, but OutKast's Stankonia obliterated whatever biased barriers I had left. Not that my reaction was much different from everyone else who nabbed a copy of this album, Big Boi and André 3000's fourth LP lauded for its fearless genre-bending music by even the most cagey of rap veterans. Folks in the know were already hype to OutKast's potential though, even if the duo continuously exceeded expectations at this point in their career. I was coming in raw, with no knowledge of their history within the Atlanta scene. All I knew about Southern rap was whatever No Limit Records was churning out, and Stankonia sounded nothing like Master P. Then again, Stankonia sounded like nothing else on the market period.

For one thing, this album was among the first, if not the first, of major records in American hip-hop to inject the breakneck pace of drum ‘n’ bass rhythms into the scene. I’m sure some UK act had done the deed prior, or at least lyrically conscious MCs were spittin’ verses overtop Roni Size cuts, but music intended for raves was well outside the interest of this continent’s ghetto regions. Figures, then, it’d take these OutKast types to make that bold step into 155BPM territory with B.O.B. and smaller track ? (yes, it’s called that). Big Boi and Mr. 3000 weren’t satisfied just aping some rhythms though, making use of their newly acquired studio to indulge in all sorts of electronic sounds and productions. Red Velvet is pure electro, Snappin’ & Trappin’ goes weirdo electro (wasn’t really called trap yet), Gangsta Sh*t blasts heavy southern bass funk, Slum Beautiful fears no time signatures, and I’ll Call Before I Come tinkers with a drum machine like a toy box in Prince’s hands. And don’t forget all those funky Moog worms about So Fresh, So Clean, Xplosion, and Stanklove.

Stankonia was also where André started feeling the soul-croon itch, which initially gave his chums pause whether they were going to lose his rap talents. Instead, Big Boi let him run with it, and the result was some of OutKast’s most endearing songs ever, including their first major hit with Ms. Jackson. There’s also freak-out rock with Gasoline Deams, P-funk soul with Toilet Tisha, salsa with Humble Mumble, and plenty of quirky dalliances within multiple interludes. It’s funny how the more traditional hip-hop cuts with Spaghetti Junction and We Luv Deez Hoez, while fine enough productions, are almost forgotten amongst the genre bending going on. Well, no, you’ll never forget the hook in We Luv Deez Hoez.

Listening to Stankonia, it’s easy to understand why many OutKast fans were hesitant in embracing Speakerboxxx / The Love Below. This album finds the duo seemingly at the threshold of exploring amazing new approaches to hip-hop, whereas the latter, though a passion-project, was a step back. The relative lack of anything since has only made hearts grow fonder for this stank.

Salt Tank - ST 3

Internal: 1994

Salt Tank will forever only be known for one track, which is a shame because they did put out some solid UK techno and trance back in the day. Eugina though, that got them their break, such that they couldn’t escape its shadow – not when branching out from the Balearic vibes everyone adored them for, nor when they tried cashing in on it with retreads. Following a slew of shiny year 2000 remixes of Eugina, David Gates and Malcom Stanners disappeared after the turn of the millennium, going into relative stasis for over a decade. Now they’ve re-emerged with a couple trance singles for Solarstone’s retro-uplifting Pure Trance print.

We’re dealing with the beginning though, or at least as close to it as we can. The Salt Tank story goes all the way back to the heady days of UK rave, where they self-released a few mostly forgotten records. Still, they must have sensed the tools were there to go far in the business, as these singles were given simple, sequential titles (ST 1, ST 2). I also sense some inspiration from Orbital on the parts of Misters Gates and Stanners, as soon enough they had a clear winner in Eugina for ST 3. I wouldn’t go so far as to say it’s a rip-off of Lush, Halcyon + On + On, or other Orbital ‘blissy techno’ hybrids, but it does borrow from the same template. Take a whispy female vocal, bring in a few bleepy hooks, add a catchy guitar strum (that one’s from Jam & Spoon!), and mix it into a pleasant Balearic vibe. Boom, instant classic, and one that would be canned by Paul Oakenfold forever after.

As ST 3 is essentially the Eugina EP, it has a few remixes included, though all given original track titles for maximum confusion. Pacific Diva may as well be the extended club mix of Eugina, while Waimea Wilderness is the ambient dub version, and real dull at that. Too sparse, too under-produced, and a thumping kick emulating a heartbeat does not a captivating piece of dub make. That said, all the sonic isolation does benefit the Tori Amos sample, if you know its original context from Me And A Gun (you’ll never hear Eugina the same way again, trust). Best of the lot though is Sargasso Sea, with proto psy-dub act Astralasia giving the rub, taking the Balearic vibes of the original and running with it for a sublime slice of chill-out ambience.

For some reason, Salt Tank rescued their oldie tune Charged Up (I'm hearing Orbital again) and added it to ST 3, including an ambient dub remix from Zion Train called Charged In Zion Canyon. And in the middle ofST 3 is Clone, a pure techno workout in the CJ Bolland vein, though done by The Advent in this case. Wait, did Advent co-produce this with Salt Tank, or is this a remix of an uncredited track? Curse these limited two-decade old liner notes.

Various - Spring

Altar Records: 2013

If DJ Zen had fashioned his label’s Elements series after chemical elements rather than classical elements, he could have kept it running nigh on forever. That’s already ninety-four natural volumes to work with, and plenty more room for made-up ones following that. But nay, the classical version is what he settled for, and thus was forced to wrap up the series after but five proper volumes (and a sixth bonus). The compilation market doesn’t sit fallow though, any good psy-chill leaning print needing a promotional outlet for their roster’s non-album material. And thus it came to pass that DJ Zen settled on possibly the third most obvious mystical theme to center a new series on, that of the seasons. *sigh* You make good music, Altar, but really could use some help in the ‘creative compilations’ department.

Seasons it is though, with the series’ concept boiling down to producers providing tunes that conjure feelings, imagery, moods and the like of each volume. Appropriately enough, we start things off with the season ancients once considered the beginning of a yearly cycle following the vernal equinox, Spring. Ooh, I suspect we’ll get ample amounts of lively field recordings like running water and birds in song, or maybe sampled ethnic chants of far-flung tribes praying to pagan deities for fertile crops and frisky love in the air. Um, no, there’s not much of that at all. Tickle me… kinda’ disappointed? Sure, what I typed out sounds like some hokey New Age fluff, but Altar’s always had a touch of that regardless (that cover art!), and it’s never stopped me from getting my vibe on with their output.

Instead, Spring sticks to the prog-psy stylee for much of its runtime. Fine with me, as you’ve got a solid cast of Altar regulars chipping in to get this series up and running: AstroPilot, Cabeiri, Lab’s Cloud, Akshan, Asura, Suduaya, plus newcomer Reasonandu, and Dense of GMO vs Dense microfame. And yet, for much of this compilation, it doesn’t feel like I’m playing a collection of Altar tracks – nay, the groove I’m getting here is oddly reminiscent of Iboga Records from a decade ago. Granted, much of it is in the slower style the psy-chill chaps like going, but those sparse arrangements, plucks of dubbed-out synth, and churning, thunking rhythms are remarkably minimal for a label more known for their widescreen productions. A few tracks do break the mold – opener Peaceful Heart from Reasonandu And Adrian Enescu is what I had in mind for this compilation, while the next string of cuts from Dense, Suduaya, and AstroPilot play more to Altar’s style. Elsewhere, Asura provides one of his standard prog-psy productions, including that crisp kick, and those sidechain abused pads. The rest though, man, are we certain Perfect Stranger didn’t pop by the Altar office and sneak in some of his roster instead?

Spring is still a solid collection of prog-psy, just not quite what I was expecting. Will future seasons bring the unexpected too?

Distant System - Spiral Empire (Original TC Review)

Celestial Dragon Records: 2008

(2015 Update:
Somehow, this album grows more captivating with each playthrough, and believe me, it's been playthroughed a pile. I still can't figure out why though. Yeah, the whole space idea is pure catnip, and Mr. Smith crafted an excellent take on the theme, but it's not a unique concept, cosmic music being around since at least Holst's The Planets. And yet, I'm hard pressed to hear anything quite like Distant System, and believe me again,it's not for a lack of trying. For all the psy chill and space ambient I've consumed from his peers, none have replicated the evocative sounds and composition found on Spiral Empire. This is a style Mr. Smith has made his own, and by keeping Distant System in relative cryostasis since this album came out, has maintained a mysterious allure over the project.

This review obviously makes some huge assumptions over Distant System's future, and could have done without the introductory paragraph's broad generalizations about electronic music trends. Guess I was justifying why space themes were so critical to the music's development over the decades, even though that honestly wasn't the case. Really, it's little more than reasoning for my clear bias towards the stuff. Take it for what you will.)


IN BRIEF: Space is the place.

When electronic music made the big crossover towards the end of the ‘90s, it abandoned many of the themes that defined it earlier in the decade. Justifiable or not, trying to market the music to the mainstream would undoubtedly be difficult if such concepts like extreme psychedelia, cyberpunk, big gay happy fun, or jungle militias crossed over. Oh, and space exploration too. Granted, the cosmos still generates inspiration for many electronic producers but not the degree it once did. You’d have whole albums and projects built around such themes in the early ‘90s (Biosphere, Pete Namlook, Spicelab... to name just a few classic examples). I can only assume the reason for this is a sociological one: the mainstream's acceptance of electronic music replacing egged-headed themes like futurism and technological possibilities with popular ones like relationships and trendiness. This isn’t a sociology paper, though, so I’ll spare you any further ruminations on the subject.

Still, it is nice to see there remains room for such albums out there, even if they now tend to sit on the fringes. With a little luck, however, Tyler Smith (aka: Distant System) will get more exposure with this album. More known for his psy-dub project Androcell, Ty-

Eh? You haven’t even heard of Androcell? Oh, right... Psy-dub, that eternally neglected genre of music by the media (unless it’s Shpongle). Heh, fringe music seldom gets a break, does it? You never know, though... it could become trendy the way other fringe music like dub techno and nu-disco have... maybe.

Anyhow, Tyler Smith. He’s been making music for a while, though not in any major capacity; it’s only in recent years his output’s gained momentum. And while being on Hong Kong based Celestial Dragon Records may not lift him out of obscurity, perhaps his newfound association with increasingly ace downtempo label Ultimae will give him a little more exposure (more on this pairing in a bit).

This here album titled Spiral Empire provides a strong case for him to deserve such exposure. Conceptually, it isn’t innovative, as spacey music has been around for years. Yet Smith’s production is remarkably captivating, drawing upon the things that make the cosmos so intriguing to begin with. Synths and soundscapes paint vast, lonely vistas, where you can’t help but feel small and alone amongst the emptiness that is the universe. As bleak as it may seem on the surface, though, subtle melodies and gripping rhythms of varying tempos create a sense of wonderment and awe as you bear witness to it all, providing human humbleness in the face of something so inconceivably limitless.

Okay, okay, I’d better reign in the hyperbole, lest this review turn into an unintentional fanboy gush; it honestly isn’t quite as rapturous as I’m describing here. However, Smith’s sonic portrait of the cosmos truly is a lovely listen. The opening half of Spiral Empire wonderfully flows from track to track, with pleasing harmonies and pulsating effects weaving about desolate atmospherics; all the while icy-cool beats and throbbing basslines lazily guide things along like some kind of interstellar space cruiser. Smith doesn’t appear to be in any kind of hurry to get anywhere, quite content to casually take in the sparse scenery as he builds his songs.

Heck, this album practically plays as one long song as it is. Once the track Outer Rim hits, the pace briskly picks up, and even makes use of hooks that are more urgent in delivery (if you can call strangled ominous strings hooks); really, it’s about as close to the kind of old school trance the likes of Oliver Lieb used to produce that I’ve heard in some time, and marks the clear climax of Spiral Empire. Bridging ambient sequence Cloud Nebula and sublime melodically-glitchy closer Astromech Starport are perfect pieces of music for the album’s coda.

About the only track that seems at odds with this album’s running theme is, unsurprisingly, Smith’s remix of Time Circles. This is a track produced by Ultimae regulars H.U.V.A. Network (Magnus Birgersson and Vincent Villuis, or Solar Fields and Aes Dana), and the more earthly ethereal tone of many Ultimae releases stands in clear contrast to the rest of the album. Despite clear production techniques that has defined Distant System thus far, Smith can’t hide the fact this is still an out-of-place song. Oh, it’s fine and all, just comes off as a slight detour from everything else. I have to mention, though, that being buddies with the folks at Ultimae has paid off for Smith, getting a final mastering of Spiral Empire that is, frankly, exquisite to the ears.

Still, if the notion of space music strikes you as unappealing, then this album probably won’t be for you, as its theme does remain singular throughout. For those with insatiable curiosity of the cosmos and an ear for the out-worldly, though, Spiral Empire is a superb sonic treat.

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

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?