Biosphere - Substrata²

Origo Sound/Touch: 1997/2001

The only Biosphere album you're supposed to have, even if you're not a Biosphere fan. What an odd thing to say, considering most point to his first two albums, Microgravity and Patashnik, as the classic Biosphere stylee. But then Geir Jenssen had to go and make a classic ambient LP with Substrata, all but cementing his legacy as one of the premier acts in the genre. Okay, he already had done that, though not everyone was into the sci-fi bleep techno either. When you go full-on ambient though, with the pads and the layers and the drones and the field recordings, you get the attention of all ambient heads, from the Eno old-schoolers to the Namlook nu-stylers, and all the savvy Roach-Orb-Obmana disciples between.

Specifically, Substatra marked a significant change in how Mr. Jenssen treated his Biosphere project. Instead of crafting music with a sci-fi, futuristic bent, he set his sights closer to home, grounding his compositions within our earthly domain, and localizing them deep within his native lands of northern Norway. This is dark, moody ambient that glows bright within the reflections of crackling fires against snow covered fields. This is spacious ambient as heard echoing off jagged, glacial mountains. This is intimate, melancholic ambient, absorbed while huddled in a lonesome cabin outpost during the dead of Arctic Circle winter, aurora borealis cascading across Ursa Major and Casseopeia. These are all metaphors and similes that have undoubtedly been oft repeated when describing Substrata since its release nearly two decades ago. I want my kick at the can though, darn it all.

Substrata is essential ambient, of that there’s no doubt. It’s one of the most unique offerings of the genre, and responsible for many future attempts at emulating droning winter chill. However, that isn’t the album you’re supposed to have. No, that would be this 2001 version, Substrata², which includes a remastering of the original, plus a second CD containing the two bonus Japanese tracks, and score work for an old-timey Russian silent film Man With A Movie Camera.

The latter came about when Geir was approached by the Tromso International Film Festival to write a new soundtrack to the 1929 original, I suppose to give a modern interpretation based on film-maker Dziga Vertov’s notes. Though they share similar aesthetics, Man With A Movie Camera is more abstract than Substrata, and probably makes better sense when viewed with the film. Meanwhile, the Japanese tracks are more like Biosphere’s earlier works, The Eye Of The Cyclone doing the upbeat sci-fi ambient techno thing, while eleven-minute long Endurium going for the slower, downbeat take on that style. Both sound like they were works Geir produced before abandoning beats altogether for Substrata proper. As b-sides though, these are mint.

Anything else I write here is elementary. If you haven’t heard Substrata yet because of some preconceived doubts of its brilliance, let my voice add to the choir that the hype is justified, and spring for the double-disc version while you’re at it.

Circular - Substans

Ultimae Records: 2009

When I reviewed Circular’s Moon Pool last year, I mentioned their previous LP on Ultimae, Substans, was “a good album, but didn’t ignite much buzz”. While the second part of the sentence is true, I’m having difficulty supporting the first. I listen to this CD, hear things I like, sounds that are evocative, comforting, and interesting, even discern a loose mood around icy Nordic ambience, but God, does that latter third of the album ever evaporate in haste from my memory. Hell, even as it plays, Circular’s exercise in minimalist sonic textures and timbre fails to penetrate my cognizant synapses. I lie down with headphones, only to conk out after the uptempo cut Hurumburum (track seven out of thirteen). I go for a stroll with Substans on my other headphones, my only distraction the sidewalk in front of me – I start thinking of Transformers comics (!) during my wanderings. I literally have the album emanating from my living room speakers as I type this, and I completely missed hearing the guitar fuzz drone of Walking On Sand. Dammit, Facebook wasn’t that distracting for those three minutes.

Point being, a good album shouldn’t have moments that lose your attention. Once or twice, I can see it happening, as we live in an incredibly distracting world, but not with repeated play-throughs. I’ve thrown on Substans at least a half-dozen times since getting it a couple years back, and at least a third of it still remains a mystery to me. I can’t think of any other Ultimae release that’s accomplished this.

Such a shame. The surrounding tracks on Substans are fine pieces of music, if a little slight on execution. For the first third of the album, there’s a sense of sonic exploration, no two tracks similar in style, and typically alternating between low-key or a brisk pace. Rablekok has a deeply dubbed- out rhythm with gentle electric guitar treatments, whereas follow-up Little Girls Eat Chocolate is a charming piece of spritely chill ambience. Time Machine has a glitchy acoustic thing going for it, and is paired with darker ambient techno on Bits (Chernozem Remix). Wie Geht’s, Minsk? sounds about as close to vintage Ultimae psy-chill as this album gets, and appropriately enough has the prog psy Hurumburum come right after.

Finally, at the end of Substans, there’s Nothing But Dead Landscapes, a nine and a half excursion through droning ambient, pulsing ambient techno, and future-shock soundscapes, with a little electric guitar dub thrown in at the end for good measure. This track, above all else, deserves that Future Sound Of London comparison folks were often throwing about with regards to Circular’s music, and shows the potential of their songcraft better than anything else on here. Oh, and Biosphere too, especially with the icy ambient drone of Isroser right before it.

Unfortunately, this isn’t enough to recommend Substans for anyone other than Ultimae completists. Despite the “good album” ideas present, they don’t coalesce into a strong, long-form whole.

Institute Of Frequency & Optical Research - Subspace Messages (2015 Update)

Jump Cut: 1994

(Click here to read some ramblings about bad mastering.)

I swear there are mind controlling subspace messages out there. They're sending their signals to my subconscious, you see, insidiously forcing me to continuously talk about this hopelessly obscure album of rough acid techno from the mid-'90s.

It all started so innocently, wandering into that used music outlet looking for a few cool, unique scores I wouldn't find in the regular stores. Little did I know those subspace messages were already penetrating my neural pathways, guiding the tiny extraocular muscles within my eye socket towards that lonesome looking white cover with the DNA strand plunk in the middle. Readings of my memory membranes had alerted these shadowy individuals of my fondness for nerdy-named electronic music, knowing I couldn’t resist buying this album with barely a sound check involved. Somehow the masterminds behind these quantum level wavelengths had the foresight I’d end up contributing my thoughts of music to the internet, thus maintaining the Institute Of Frequency & Optical Research’s legacy long after their name had been left to the mists of techno history. They waited patiently, letting the CD sit within my towers for an opportune moment when their music would be brought to light once more.

They chose their target well, realizing my insatiable need to prove that Chaos Theory rules supreme would incite me to introduce the Random Review concept at TranceCritic. That, despite a large collection of music, even the most hopelessly forgotten and abandoned works could be resurrected within the public’s ears if only by mere chance. Sensing their time finally at hand, I was sent the subspace messages intended for motor control of my arm and hand. Despite closing my eyes, doing a quick spin, and running my fingertips up and down the tower, I was manipulated enough that my second Random Review choice ended up being this album. The masterplan unfolds, where, despite the general lambasting and shoddy penmanship displayed in that TranceCritic review, a few dozen more folks in this world came to know of the Institute Of Frequency & Optical Research. Er, yeah, that was one of the doggiest reviews on TranceCritic in terms of views. Guess you just can’t beat reader apathy.

How such a CD sourced from the UK ended up in the backstands of a Surrey pawn shop remains a mystery. Perhaps a former hapless victim of these Subspace Messages overcame his mind control, fleeing as far West as he could go, hoping to toss it into the Pacific Ocean where a giant octopus might mangle it for good. He couldn’t commit though, the subspace messages overriding such desire. He could at least get some money from it though.

At least I know I’m not alone in my mental manipulations, Lord Discogs telling me nine others have suffered this fate. Honestly, it was the fact this was even in the database’s early archives that convinced me it was a website worth keeping tabs on, plus help contribute with my own rare gatherings. Yay for small achievements!

Scuba - Sub:Stance

Ostgut Ton: 2010

Sub:Stance may as well be the turning point of Scuba's career, going from dubstep darling to tech-house tease. True, the hints didn't come to fruition for another couple years after this CD, but the very fact he's palling around with Ostgut Ton, they of Serious Technos Only acts like Surgeon, Shed, Klock, and Dettmann, had to give some signs of his future developments. Okay, there’s also the nugget of Mr. Rose hailing from Berlin, thus likely having ties with the Berghain posse regardless. It’s a pairing that was all but inevitable, what with Scuba's early techno dystopian approach to UK bass music.

What I find most interesting is that it was with Ostgut Ton that he made his commercial DJ mix CD debut in the first place. Why not do it on his own Hotflush print? Too many licensing issues? A friendly favour? Come to think of it, most of his mixes have been online efforts (podcasts, streamers, Boiler Room rinse-outs), this and DJ-Kicks about all he has for hard copy options (and a Mixmag offering, but who cares about those). Maybe he’ll do a Balance or fabric one soon, since he’s all about that house now.

In 2010 though, Mr. Rose was still mixing in the heady post-dubstep tuneage, with many of the trendy names of the time getting a look in. There’s Sigha, Pangaea, Shackleton, Mount Kimbie, James Blake, and Joy Orbison, including his one big track everyone wouldn’t stop playing back then, Hyph Mngo. Man, looking at that list, it’s like reading a super-hip indie write-up from back then, dropping names and proclaiming this is the future of music, forward-thinking while honouring the past’s influences. Dubstep was moving on from its inner-London roots, ready to take on all urban locales with techno hand-in-hand, Scuba seemingly ready to play the part of lead and general. Then a Skrillex happened overnight and changed everything. Oh well.

Meanwhile, Sub:Stance does a good job of providing various rugged rhythms and deep basslines. Scuba runs the gamut from minimalist dub (Sigha’s Early Morning Lights, Badawi’s Anlan 7) to UK garage nods (Joy Orbison’s two cuts, George Fitzgerald’s Don’t You), and technobass beasts (Surgeon’s Klonk Pt. 4, Untold’s No-One Likes A Smart Arse, Intra:Mental’s Voyeur), with plenty of abstract broken-beats spread throughout (James Blake’s rub of Mount Kimbie’s Maybes, Ramadanman’s Tempest). As with his DJ-Kicks set, the mixes are quick and surgical, tracks seldom lasting longer than three minutes with only their key features utilized. No sense dawdling on repetitive loops and pointless drum programming, right?

Another similarity to that future mix is ending with an unabashed, hands in the air anthem, in this case Joker’s Psychedelic Runway. Given how heads-down and dark Sub:Stance generally is, it’s shocking hearing such garrish synths and cock-rockin’ rave riffs set to a standard dubstep break. Though considering Scuba ended his Boiler Room set with Madonna’s Vogue, I suspect he can’t help but go for the cheeky climax every time. I will always approve of such shenanigans.

Sub Focus - Sub Focus (2015 Update)

RAM Records: 2009

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review.)

I was dreading hearing Sub Focus' debut album again, despite the generally positive ‘dumb fun’ feels I recall initially having. Like, was I once forgiving of cheesy moments or generic tune writing because the beats or hooks hit me in a good mood before? Or had I been absent of such questionable music long enough for a quick dip in and out of the Fromage Pool, before retreating back to the safe, comforting confines of the Serious Music Sauna. As I age, that pool looks ever less inviting, sending cold bitter chills through my spine at the mere thought of dunking a toe within. At least, that's how the story's supposed to go. I dunno, maybe one year all that is happy hardcore will consume my everlasting being until the day I've raved into my grave.

Still, despite his incremental forays towards main stage festival fodder, Sub Focus has remained a popular name within drum 'n' bass' fold. It probably didn't hurt that, even in his early years, Nick Douwma’s sound was nicely accessible, never so rough-n-tumble or weirdly abstract to chase away recently converted junglists. They were ready for something more than Pendulum, but not that much more. You’d think that’d get him disowned by hardliners, yet I’ve talked to many veteran d’n’b heads that still look forward to a Sub Focus set. He’s somehow found that sweet spot of keeping a foot in each side of the scene. Probably doesn’t hurt he’s completely up front and honest with his poppier dalliances, always a plus in the almighty Respect Game. Sure, make your token electro house track, we’ll patiently wait it out for another rockin’ banger.

Sure enough, once I got Sub Focus playing again, I was quickly swept back in by the fun vibes Mr. Douwma gives us …for about half the album anyway. Between the heavy hitters (Let The Story Begin, World Of Hurt, Rock It) and the headier moments (Follow The Light, Last Jungle, Deep Space), you have a solid collection of d’n’b that goes down the earholes nice and easy. By the way, is it just me, or is that a riff on the Nightmare On Elm Street theme in Deep Space? Probably just a coincidence, but I can’t help but think of Freddy …In Space! when I hear it, a movie that should never, ever, be made.

As with my original listen though, this album tanks hard following the silly speed garage of Move Higher. Not just because of my low tolerance of that genre either, as the jungle cuts in the back-half simply aren’t as dope as the opening salvo, save the spacey Triple X. And, wait a moment, is that a chill-out dubstep anthem at the very end? Wow, how did I miss that before? They weren’t that common in 2009.

Overall, Sub Focus has held up fine. The things I don’t like are due to genre bias, but that can be said for the tunes I still dig too.

Phutureprimitive - Sub Conscious (Original TC Review)

Waveform Records: 2004

(2015 Update:
I get it. Really, I do. It's not as drastic a change as some made it out. The music on here, with all those rubbery time-signatures, it has kindred spirit with wobbly basslines and all that. Plus, it's not like Rain couldn't help himself, what with having roots in the Pacific Northwest, where the likes of Excision's Rottun Recordings have come to dominate the festival circuit Phutureprimitive toured about on. Maybe he heard plenty enough from those big stages all the younger bassheads were congregating at, where he could get a piece of that lucrative pie. Or maybe throw a few shockers in the face of die-hard psy dub hippies. Ain't nothing wrong with that. Still... dubstep? Really, dubstep!?

This review does a very poor job detailing just how unique sounding Sub Conscious is, especially since no one's repeated what's one here - difficult detailing music without other frames of reference, after all. That includes Rain himself, most of his latest offerings content recycling sounds found in every main stage dub/brostep act. We thought he'd return to this style some day, but seeing as how he's almost gone full-Skrillex now, we'll just have to settle for this one excellent album of a bygone era instead.)


IN BRIEF: Music of the future and past.

Well, it’s been a while since we dipped into these waters, eh? Shpongle’s swan song from two summers ago [2015 Edit: LOL, ‘swan song’] was the last time we reviewed anything in the warm, bubbly realms of psychedelic dub music, which is a shame given just how wonderfully diverse this music can be. Unfortunately, with so many styles of electronic music demanding our attention, fringy forms tend to get overlooked in the process.

However, I wouldn’t deem psy dub as fringe as, say, drone ambient. In fact, this form of chill music has settled into a nice little niche. Filling in for the lengthy noodly ambient productions the likes of The Orb and The Irresistible Force used to make, this is the music often heard at underground and outdoor parties attended by raving refugees. It doesn’t have the accessibility of MOR chill fodder, but nor is it so impenetrable that it’ll chase away the curious.

Hailing from America’s Northwest, the man simply known as Rain has been a part of this scene for over a decade, although kept a relatively low profile. Toiling away in his own studio, he eventually emerged with this album: Sub Conscious. Here, under the pseudonym Phutureprimitive, we find a fusion of downtempo vibes common in many underground scenes. Ethnic soundscapes, psychedelic synths, and dubby atmospherics are all melded, with neither attribute dominating the direction of a song.

While you won’t find any specific leads, Rain’s music doesn’t dawdle on go-nowhere tangents either. Rather, minor melodies and drum patterns flow from segment to segment within a track itself, maintaining an overlying theme throughout. And although the general tone of Sub Conscious tends to remain dark, tribal, and melancholic, it isn’t without its bright spots as well.

Probably the most intriguing aspect of Rain’s productions is his time-signatures. I’m no expert on this subject, but I can definitely tell when a song seems ‘off’ when compared to traditional 4/4 rhythms. And most of what you hear on Sub Conscious contains such moments where you’ll mutter to yourself, “Now that’s kind of odd.” It’s one of those nifty little subtle things that causes you to take notice of what’s actually going on in a song rather than just hang back waiting for a catchy melody or calming pad to emerge. And while these tracks aren’t super-dense so there’s a million-and-one things to discover with dutiful attention, there certainly are plenty of interesting bits to chew on during the course of a song’s playing time.

With the general information out of the way, how’s about some particulars then? That, I’m afraid, can be a bit tricky in this case.

As mentioned, the songs on this album aren’t conventional. Opener Rites Of Passage is as clear an indication of the sorts of arrangements you’ll mostly encounter. Groovy rhythms start out, sounding neither strictly organic nor synthetic, with subtle, similar effects floating in the background. Eventually, a simple, dark sweeping synth gives us our first clear melody, with additional ones bubbling in the background. Then, we move onto some tribal chants; then, a stuttery synth; then, a new stuttery synth, this time building in prominence; then, a different rhythmic section (including a different time-signature, if you’re keeping tabs on minute details like that); then, new chants; finally, orchestral swells. All the while, previous elements bubble up, maintaining a cohesive theme throughout. Skillfully, each new section feels like a proper transition from prior ones, and never sounds like self-indulgence or useless attention-grabbers. And none of these various sounds, synths and effects outshine the other, each of them finely tuned to harmonize on the same wavelength as the next.

Like this opener, many of these songs progress naturally rather than take unnecessary tangents, usually starting from a few basic ideas, then gradually building upon them to a logical conclusion. If this sounds too structured, trust me it does not come across this way, again thanks to Rain’s use of time-signatures. It lends itself an unpredictable atmosphere to the proceedings, and should the opening rhythms and minor melodies snare you, you’ll stick with it to see where the song will lead next.

Rites Of Passage throws most of Rain’s sonic ideas together; the rest of the tracks tend to stick to more singular themes while maintaining his eclectic production. Darkness and Elysium rely mostly on ethereal textures, including flowing female voices rather than tribal chants (all original, no sampling). Follow-up Ritual goes darker, conjuring up ancient tribal temple gatherings in Latin America. (Note: I could complain about some of these titles, as they are annoyingly cliché, but that’s not terribly important)

Adding some variety to these ethno-psy-dub proceedings is Spanish Fly, making use of flamenco guitars and percussion. Additionally, the song completely changes pace mid-way through, settling into a much slower rhythm than at the start. At first I thought it was just a breakdown of sorts, but was quite surprised to hear it to the end.

The rest of the album thematically carries on in similar fashion as the first half, with the eclecticism between tracks always fresh and never overcooked. At times the percussion gets more tribal (especially in Drifting) but will be naturally followed up with easy-going dubbed-out grooves (especially in Submerge). In one of the few instances of predictability on Sub Conscious, closer Dissolve is a straight ambient track, although still contains Rain’s intriguing style on it.

So, does all this talk of diverse arrangements and nifty sound collages and somber melodies make you want to rush out and buy this release? If no, I can guess why: you’re wondering where all the catchy hooks are.

Frankly, as with many forms of psy-dub, catchy bits aren’t the focus. Despite some really good minor melodies, there aren’t any that repeat long enough to get firmly stuck in your head, much less be humming later in the day. Add to the fact 4/4 rhythms are nonexistent and you have an album a casual listener is going to have trouble getting into. Rain’s production may be clear and concise, but it is still unconventional, especially in electronic music circles.

However, if what you desire in your music is uniqueness and deep engagement, then Sub Conscious should be on your Wantlist. Even if the idea of ‘ethno-psy-dub’ strikes you as bizarre, the music on this release will satisfy nonetheless.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2006. All rights reserved.

Gabriel Le Mar - Stripped

Le Mar Production/Carpe Sonum Records: 2013/2015

I've seen many variations of the 'in dub' album over the years, but this is the first I've seen the process being called 'stripped'. I suppose there’s a distinction between the two: dub remix albums are all about giving original tracks spacious room, drawing a few specific elements out, almost always on the low end of things. A stripped track, I assume, takes things more in a minimal route, retaining the core musical ideas while removing any extraneous effects and fluff from the original. I honestly don't know though, this album being my only exposure to what a stripped album might be. It could simply just refer to the fact every cut is beatless, as the sub-title of each track states.

Given the idiosyncratic nature of Gabriel Le Mar’s discography, it’s not surprising he’d give some of his music the ol’ rework. Born with a last name of Mastichidis, his early career saw him flit between various forms of techno, ambient, psy, and world beat, all with a dubby bent. He’s also worked with a few well regarded groups like Saafi Brothers and Aural Float, and Lord Discogs is telling me I’ve had Gabriel Le Mar tracks since the year 2000. Wow, I had no idea, though listening back, those were the more dope cuts from that Ambient Dub compilation (which, for the record, has no ambient on it). Since then, he’s also apparently dabbled in breaks, progressive house, trance, tech-house, electro… geez, Lord Discogs, are you on the level here? What hasn’t this guy done?

A ‘stripped’ album, until now. Originally digitally self-released a couple years back, Carpe Sonum Records has given Stripped the physical format treatment, as they do for many folks featured on Fax +49-69/450464 at some point (yeah, ol’ Gabs has even collaborated with Namlook). Going by the info provided by The Lord That Knows All, at least half of these tracks have previously been released on other recent digi-albums from Mr. Mastichidis, though I’m assuming in an un-stripped form. Since Discogs’ record keeping of MP3 and WAV albums isn’t as comprehensive, the same could be true for the rest. Then again, having an original track called The Beat (Beatless) is the sort of cheekiness any producer can’t resist for a concept like this.

For the most part, Stripped goes the dub techno route, with nary a kick drum in earshot. This leaves some tracks coming off like builds that never reach an expectant climax (Deep State (Beatless), Auf Dem Wind Davon (Beatless), Firecracker (Beatless)), whereas others are quite content cruising in a techno simmer (Lectron III (Beatless), Paddy Fields (Beatless), Far Out Of Reach (Beatless), Dreamtechnologies (Beatless)). And though each track keeps to its promise of being beatless, there’s never any lost rhythm, a rather ample amount of Detroit funk flowing throughout. Only two tracks, iGeorge (Beatless) and Deepulse (Beatless), tread anywhere near proper ambient waters. This all makes for very interesting techno, though strictly a genre-savvy option if you’re down for groovy dub.

Tangerine Dream - Stratosfear

Virgin: 1976

A significant album in the Tangerine Dream discography, this one. For most of their early existence, the group Edgar Froese built willfully, skillfully, and probably stonedley indulged in all the wayward freeform excesses psychedelic rock could bring them. Then they brought in synthesizers, adding to their sonic possibilities, even abandoning traditional instruments altogether for a brief while, ushering in the nascent Berlin School of krautrock. Through it all, you’d be hard-pressed to hear anything resembling a catchy hook or hummable melody, because who’s got time for that when you’re constructing alien soundscapes for a receptive, tripped-out audience? That all changed with Stratosfear, in particular with the titular opener where several very memorable, very obvious melodies emerge as the ten minute piece unfolds. What were Tangerine Dream doing, aiming for higher chart action with this?

Perhaps a little. No doubt that Virgin deal gained them much wider recognition the world abroad, but even other forms of lengthy, sequenced synth music was gaining popularity. Along with plenty other Germans getting in on the act, you also had Frenchmen (Jarre), Greeks (Vangelis), Japanese (Tomita), British (all them prog rockers), and even Americans (Synergy) having a go with various amounts of success. As many of these musician adhered to a more modern classical approach to the craft, they had no problem injecting melodies and leitmotifs into their compositions. Naturally, for Tangerine Dream to keep pace and not be left in krautrock obscurity like Can and Cluster, they’d have to take a similar approach to their works as well. Thus Stratosfear comes off like a long-lost piece of baroque on par with their synth manipulating contemporaries. Or the group just wanted to try something different.

Worry not, ol’ ye’ old-school Tangerine Fans of old, for the rest of this album has them harkening back to the ancient times of traditional instruments as well. The Big Sleep In Search Of Hades melds synths with harpsichords, plus out comes the flute again! Man, it’d been a while since the Dream Team of Tangerines used that little pipe. The song itself has some folksy charm to it, sounding like the sort of music you might hear in a fantasy movie from the ‘70s. Oh yeah, Tangerine Dream were set to do their first ever film score for the movie Sorcerer the next year.

The second half of Stratosfear plays more to the group’s freeform music making, though even these compositions have more structure going on than prior works. 3 AM At The Border Of The Marsh From Okefenokee is another work that wouldn’t sound out of place in a movie during a tension-filled scene of sneaking across fields. Lastly, Invisible Limits runs through various sequences of quiet synths and flutes, pulsing prog rock jams, abstract experimental diddling, and a peaceful denouement of piano and flute: a condensed summation of Tangerine Dream, then.

Stratosfear isn’t the definitive Tangerine Dream album, but it is a good blend of their seminal work with the poppier leanings they’d go in later years.

Cirrus - Stop & Panic

Moonshine Music: 1999

I feel Moonshine Music oversold us on Cirrus being The Next Big Thing. Not that I blame the label in marketing the Los Angeles breaks duo as their answer to The Chemical Brothers and The Crystal Method. Big beat was big business as the ‘90s drew to a close, but there was only so much big money a label could gather with compilations that (possibly) required big licensing fees. DJ Aaron Carter and Stephen J. Barry had a good look to them, in that so-‘90s L.A. way, and were more than capable of kicking out the jams in various genres, though acidy breaks was their main call of expertise. They could have simply carved out their niche and stayed on the low-key, but after Moonshine had so much success in their promotion of “Superstar DJ” Keoki, another kick at the Crossover Can couldn’t hurt. Or not, if it meant licensing out Cirrus tracks to all manner of receptive video games.

Anyhow, Stop & Panic was the second single from the group’s second album, Back On A Mission. There were no other singles from the LP following this, Cirrus quick to move on from big beat before the year 2000 reared its head. This cut is all big beat though, with guitar licks, fierce crashing percussion, tweaked as fuck acid, siren calls, time stretched vocals of the title, and a little record scratchin’ for good measure. In other words, a good thrashing time.

This being Moonshine, you can’t have a single without a DJ Dan remix, and Dan does the deed with his typical disco funk rub of house. Just in case you felt the original was too much big beat and not enough proper breaks, The Coffee Boys (re: just one guy named Paul Grogan) strips things down some, giving space for the acid to shine without a bunch of other sounds cluttering things up. I’ve talked about DJ Micro’s go on DJ Aaron Carter’s mix CD Lit Up, in that I just mentioned it there as a surprise ending to the hard acid techno set. Still, it was used well in that context, whereas on this single it’s possibly the driest of the remixes. There needs to be more than just siren-wailing bosh in my acid techno.

Finally, progressive trancer Deepsky rounds out the single with a decidedly old-school take on the genre. Seriously, that pitch-bending sawwave is straight out of the bible of Jam & Spoon tricks, even right down to the breakdown where you hear nothing else. I’d keep thinking I’m hearing Follow Me instead of a Stop & Panic remix were it not for the vocal being dropped in throughout. This couldn’t have been a coincidence. Deepsky had to have done it deliberately, just figured no one listening to a Cirrus single would ever know the truth. Well, fool’s on Mr. Blum, as I am one such person! Clearly though, this is among the utmost useless information I have in my possession.

Various - Stockholm Mix Sessions 2: Jesper Dahlbäck

Turbo Recordings: 2000

Though I had read positive things about Turbo in American-based magazine Mixer, Stockholm Mix Sessions 2 was my proper introduction to the label. It didn’t tell their whole story, of course, but it told enough to get my attention and check out more of what they had to offer. Well, after the cover first lured me in for a closer listen anyway. Seriously, what is it with apartment architecture that makes for such captivating photo art? It doesn’t have anything to do with the music inside, yet it instantly gives the sense this is a class mix through and through.

And oh man, is Mr. Dahlbäck’s second mix for Turbo ever class. I knew deep house well enough before, mostly thanks to the likes of Mark Farina and… um, okay so I didn’t have that much experience with the genre by the year 2000, but I’d heard plenty from assorted mixtapes making the rounds. Point being, my primary exposure to the sound was that of the West Coast bumpin’ style, and maybe a little deep Chicago for good measure. I was completely unaware there was an entirely unique strain of European deep house going on, much less being cultivated by guys from Sweden (should have paid more attention to Mixer’s words). It was house music steeped in cinematic soul, dubbed out to the outer reaches of your mind (or the Mediterranean patio), funk but a distant concern. Not that Stockholm Mix Sessions 2 is lacking in groove, but this is music I see myself enjoying at a classy dining lounge or ultra-chill afterparty than any typical club or beach event. Or Hell, cruising down the streets late at night, what with Metro Area’s Atmosphrique in the third position here (know your post Days Go By Mitsubishi ads, folks).

What marks Jesper’s second mix so much better than his first is just how incredibly smooth it is, much of which isn’t his own productions. For sure he works a few in (another remix for ADNY, plus two different collaborations as Sunday Brunch and Brommage Dub), but they’re complemented by the surrounding tracks vibing off what they bring to the mix. For instance, Cpen’s Pirate’s Life features the same super-spacious sound that Sunday Brunch’s Things You Said does, but also works in a bit of solo Moog that’s to die for. Come to think of it, this mix has a lot of solos in it, mostly keyboards, organs, and the like. So much soul-jazz, without going nu-jazz.

Many memorable names (I:Cube, King Britt, Luomo, Casey Hogan, The Rurals) rub shoulders with relative unknowns (Tribedelic, Moonchildren, Pascal Rioux), running from broken jazz-beat through the deepest end of house music, back to the Balearic beaches with Latin soul. Aside from one jarring transition mid-point (Luomo seldom makes things easy), Dahlbäck’s mixing is nigh flawless, making Stockholm Mix Sessions 2 the best mix CD he’s ever point out. Er, and his last one too. Adam Beyer would take over the series after this.