Koichi Sugiyama - Symphonic Suite "Dragon Quest" Complete CD-Box: Disc 4

SME Visual Works Inc.: 2003

Dragon Quest IV was a remarkable game when it came out, one of the last true greats of the 8-bit era. Featuring multiple characters, each had their own 'chapters' before coming together for a final chapter, breaking conventional RPG storytelling in the process. The game even established many tropes folks now take for granted in the genre (hero village sacked, tragic villain, prophecy, etc.). Koichi Sugiyama, already showing amazing finesse with the Nintendo soundcard, outdid himself yet again with this game. I’ve touched on several pieces and themes in the previous CDs of this box set, and I will several more times before we’re done.

While the game remains a favourite for many (*cough*), it unfortunately was way overshadowed by other big RPGs of the time. Final Fantasy IV had made its sexy debut on the Super Nintendo, leaving Dragon Quest IV’s clunky Nintendo graphics well in the dust. Meanwhile, in PC gaming land, Ultima VII: The Black Gate burst forth, proving that series remained top dog of the yard. Still, Yuji Horii wasn’t trying to outdo Lord British’s games, just make simpler versions of them. That, and the dungeon crawling of Wizardry.

Oh yeah, we’re dealing with the ‘dungeon’ disc with CD4 - woot, I can segue like this all day! Any good RPG needs its caves where monsters dwell, hoarding all sorts of treasures to loot. Appropriately, Sugiyama-san composed pieces reflecting ominous shadows, creepy crevices, and claustrophobic caverns. With Dragon Quest II, towers were introduced as another form of monster infested locale, and ol’ Koichi approached this music from a different angle, compositions often urgent in pace, melodies suggesting mischievous shenanigans by whatever devilry may lurk in long abandoned rooms. This feeling of lofty unease was best captured by Screams From The Tower Of Monsters (VII), where sinister plucked strings give way to woozy violins and flutes, every so often interrupted by the echo of horns, as though you’re just hovering at the edge of a thirty foot drop. Watch that final step, wily hero; it’s a loo-loo.

Oops, you fell off and splattered on the ground below. Or fell into a cunning trap by Demonites in that tower. Or crawled too deep into a dungeon, meeting a horrible end at hoards of Horks, or in the den of a dozen Green Dragons (damn you, Road To Rhone). Whatever the case, as the classic Dragon Warrior saying goes, “Thou art dead.”

As these can be a common occurrences in Dragon Quest, Sugiyama-san saw fit to include mournful pieces for those ‘game over’ screens, typically titled Requiem or Elegy. In the first few games, you’d be resurrected by Kings, but later it’d be at churches or shrines with priests (Houses Of Healing with shaman, for the religious-wary early Nintendo games). Such holy havens deserve music worthy of humbling piety, which are provided as counters-points to the various requiems. It marks a rather soothing end to CD4, a blissful contrast to the foreboding tones of the first half.

Koichi Sugiyama - Symphonic Suite "Dragon Quest" Complete CD-Box: Disc 3

SME Visual Works Inc.: 2003

For the first two Dragon Quest games, you played as the descendents of a legendary hero known as Roto (or Erdrick). For all the great deeds you did in those games (save kingdoms, rescue princesses, defeat a God Of Chaos!), folks sure still talk mighty highly of that person from way back. Just what was his/her story anyway? Dragon Quest III tells that tale, though it wasn't immediately apparent. For the most part, it plays as a typical RPG, going from town to town, kingdom to kingdom (all suspiciously familiar), completing quests and finding treasures to finally bring down a big bad threatening the world. That wasn't the whole story either, but enough plot. The game itself marked the series' proper foray into the realm of classic pen-and-paper RPGs, with multiple party member classes you can swap in and out to your heart's content.

With such customization available, Dragon Quest III has been a fan favourite through the years, even as the game's mechanics grow ever more archaic. It's gotta' be that soundtrack that keeps drawing them back. Koichi Sugiyama outdid himself with this game, composing several pieces bringing to mind derring-do, swash-buckling, high adventure. Heck, the overworld theme he wrote for this game is titled Adventure (III).

Speaking of overworld themes, that’s what CD3 of this box set covers. Unknown World from the first Dragon Quest is probably one of the most famous little loops in jRPG history, which ol’ Koichi recycled in future pieces too, including Endless World (II) in Dragon Quest II. This piece also introduced the idea of overworld music serving as leitmotifs for your party characters, an idea explored amazingly for Dragon Quest IV’s ten-minute opus Comrades (IV). With just a few measures of music, you can glean the sort of person these funny little sprites are supposed to be: slow French horns signifying an honor-bound soldier, perky trumpets suggesting an impulsive princess, flutes and cellos for a jovial rotund merchant, spirited gypsy rhythms for a fiery dancer... you get the point. Once all these characters come together, the sound of a triumphant fanfare in Homeland ~ Wagon Wheel’s March (IV) swaggers its way to inevitable victory over the forces of evil. Oh my, I’m fanboying all over the place, aren’t I?

There’s no overworld theme for Dragon Quest V on this CD, that piece part of that game’s township medley instead for some reason. Later, as the games encompassed more than one world to explore (Dream dimensions! Underwater! The past!), they utilized the medley style themselves, though always came back to an adventurous ditty by the end.

That leaves a little space on CD3, where some of the sadder music in the Dragon Quest pantheon is found. Make Me Feel Sad (V) is an apt title, that game having some truly heart-wrenching moments throughout. Dragon Quest VII, meanwhile, gets two melancholic pieces, Days Of Sadness (VII) and Sarabrand (VII). That’s definitely a game that earns its tragic situations, believe you me.

Koichi Sugiyama - Symphonic Suite "Dragon Quest" Complete CD-Box: Disc 2

SME Visual Works Inc.: 2003

The success of Dragon Quest guaranteed a sequel. Hell, Yuji Horii had a franchise on his hands, though just how big the phenomenon would grow, few could know in those early days. At least as big as Mario, some had to assume, and like the series featuring super plumber brothers, a quick follow-up to the first game hit the shelves in Japan. Dragon Quest 2 was also brutal hard in that old-timey RPG way: excessive grinding, unfair puzzles, and wonky balancing. Ask any longtime Dragon Quest fan about the Road To Rhone, and you’ll be met with stares benefiting a PTSD survivor.

Not that I blame the game designers for the difficulty. They were no doubt learning how to expand upon their initial ideas as they went along, yet forced to meet deadlines without enough playtesting. Koichi Sugiyama may have felt similar constraints when composing for Dragon Quest II, the music not quite as memorable as the first game. Even II’s symphonic suite sounds flat compared to the other sessions.

Anyhow, CD2 of this box set features music heard as you stroll through the various towns of Dragon Quest, buying gear, engaging in gossip, discovering clues in what ‘they say…’ before embarking on a new mission. Sugiyama-san typically wrote these to sound folksy, bustling, and chipper, a respite from the grueling travels over the world. As the games grew more complex, it increased the various types of places you might visit, giving ol’ Koichi more freedom in the music he’d write. Around The World (III) features exotic locales like ancient Egypt and traditional Japan. In A Town (IV) gives us the series’ first instance of contemporary music with ragtime casino tunes, plus an epic crescendo for a coliseum tournament.

When the games made their jump to 16-bit and 32-bit, they could store an increased variety of music, which led to Sugiyama-san composing lengthier medleys. These couldn’t be summed up with simple names either, each piece quite distinct within each composition. Thus, we get titles like *deep breath*… Melody In An Ancient Town ~ Toward The Horizon ~ Casino ~ Lively Town ~ Melody In An Ancient Town (V) and *deep breath*… In The Town ~ Happy Humming ~ Inviting Village ~ Folk Dance ~ In The Town (VI). I think even ol’ Koichi realized that was getting cumbersome, simplifying Dragon Quest VII’s township medley down to Strolling In The Town (VII). See, it gets the same gist across.

Added to the end of CD2 are two love themes, Melody Of Love (V) and To My Loved One (VII). They primarily feature touching violin solos, followed by charming strings and flutes. As for why have such music, a major component of Dragon Quest V centers around your character finding a wife – gonna’ need a strong love theme to sell that story, yo’. And while your character doesn’t have as involved a storyline in Dragon Quest VII, you sure do witness many blossoming romances along the way. D’aw.

Koichi Sugiyama - Symphonic Suite "Dragon Quest" Complete CD-Box: Disc 1

SME Visual Works Inc.: 2003

So I'm a Dragon Quest fan (Dragon Warrior to all you O.G. RPG players out there). Sure, it was never the 'cool' option, but what it lacked in hardcore gameplay (your Ultimas) or style (your Final Fantasys), it made up for in pure, simplistic charm. It's a series that never had to oversell itself, remaining grounded in heart-warming tales of right and wrong, where altruism is its own reward. Bonking a few hundred Slimes for that shiny new copper sword wasn't such a bad way to pass the time either.

The success of Dragon Quest is a tale of all the right people falling into place. Game designer Yuji Horii finding a way of simplifying elements of computer RPGs for an eager Japanese audience just getting into their Famicom/Nintendo home consoles. Artist Akira Toriyama, hot off the success of his manga Dragonball, creating several iconic character and monster designs for the game. And, in an unprecedented move, composer Koichi Sugiyama coming on board to create a soundtrack for the game. Already experienced in films, TV, and anime, he helped change the craft of video games music, such that they'd no longer be rote, bleepy loops, but pieces of lasting standing. He set about doing this by writing the music as he would for a fully orchestrated composition, then squeezing it down such they'd mimic what he wrote with those tiny little soundcards. In the process, Sugiymama-san’s work for the first Dragon Quest game become just as iconic in Japanese pop culture as anything from the Mario and Zelda camps.

Remarkably, it proved so popular that actual interest grew in hearing these simple melodies performed with the backing of a complete orchestra. Who knows whether ol’ Koichi ever intended the compositions to be heard as such, but his series of symphonic suites became must-haves for every fan of the series, their success kicking off symphonic suites for other video games too. This particular box set gathers up the first seven Dragon Quest scores, arranging them based on themes and settings within the games themselves. As this is CD1, the music visited upon are the Overtures (re: title screen music) and the castle themes, which many a Dragon Quest adventure began.

I cannot deny hearing the opening trumpet fanfare of the Overture sends a ton of nostalgia endorphins flooding through my noggin, but seven straight versions of it is complete overkill. The first, Overture March (I), at least provides an extended play on the theme, and Roto (III) mixes things up with marching snares. Beyond that though, you’ve heard one Overture, you’ve heard them all.

The castle themes, however, are quite lovely, if you enjoy your sombre string section music. Chateau Ladustorm (I) is probably just as iconic a piece as anything from the first Dragon Quest game, though Menuet (IV) gives it a good run too. The latter games saw fit to add horns to the mix, but nothing beats those bassy cellos for setting a regal mood.

ACE TRACKS: December 2012

Fair warning: for the next week, I’m embarking on a quest. One where I know few, if any of you, are willing to endure with me. This was a long time coming, a project that started out even before my days at TranceCritic, though never saw completion. In fact, it was a trial run of sorts, getting the handle on writing music reviews on the internet, though in this case for an already accepting audience. It is also, by far, the geekiest thing I will write about, as this upcoming 7-disc box set is, by far, the geekiest thing I have in my music collection. With barely a smidge of electronic music within, I don’t blame you if y’all check out after the first review. And fair enough if so – have a holiday from this blog, return after Boxing Day. However, if by chance you area fan of this gaming series (!!), then think of the coming week as a big ol’ holiday present.

Okay, enough of that. Let’s get to some ACE TRACKS of three got’dang years past. Holy cow, there was still only one Hobbit movie when I was listening to these!


Full track list here.

MISSING ALBUMS:
Various - Disco Dub House: Mixed By Carl Michaels
Various - Dimensions In Ambience 2
Technical Itch - Diagnostics
BKS - Dreamcatcher
Ornament - Bleu
Felix Da Housecat - Devin Dazzle & The Neon Fever


Percentage of Hip-Hop: 14%
Percentage Of Rock: 29% (if you want to include The Downward Spiral as rock)
Most “WTF?” Track: Charles Manier - Bang Bang Lover (Dance Mix) (what the Hell is he saying!??)

Bloody stupid album version of Absolutely Fabulous cutting off at the peak of the track. Seriously, who does that? So stupid, and I’m so sorry y’all must suffer hearing it that way too, no full version available on Spotify. Also, way too many cool albums missing as well, but so it goes with the older stuff.

What we do get for Decemeber 2012 is a lot of ambient dub (shock!), a little tech-house smash, a filling of ‘electronica’ mint (Underworld! Daft Punk!), a dash of dream trance cheese, and bunch of Snoop Dogg with Trent Reznor at the end. Straight forward enough, with a few fun sequences thrown in there. *whew* Almost finished the ACE TRACKS backlog too. Savor these times, friends.

Paul Oakenfold - Swordfish: The Album (Original TC Review)

London-Sire Records: 2001

(2015 Update:
Did anyone get the parody in this review? My extended riff on the only good part about the movie, John Travolta's opening monologue regarding Hollywood's lack of realism? Guess you'd have to hear it in the first place, which I doubt many reading this ever did. Well, here's a good ol' linky to it on YouTube for you to get your kicks in. Now you can read this old review as intended, as envisioned, as ordained.

This was a fun one to write, especially coming off that horrendous album of 'original' material Oakenfold had released the same year. It's held up much better too, at least in that vintage turn-o'-the-millennium prog-trance stylee folks continue reminiscing over. I'd make a quip about the same being untrue for the movie, but I still haven't seen it, and probably never will. The version of Swordfish playing in my head based on the few clues given by the music here is almost certainly leagues better than anything committed to film.)


IN BRIEF: Better than remembered.

The year 2001. Such a memorable year, wasn’t it? No, I’m not referring to that incident; I mean before then. A time when we felt complacent and self-assured about things. A time when we still felt the buzz of the 90s, the silly Y2K superstitions having blown away with the wind. A time when young loves and romantic rendezvous was heartfelt and genuine (well, in my neck of the woods).

The year 2001. Remember how great electronic music was then? When electroclash was new and exciting? How house music was at glorious heights courtesy of the French? How NRG was dying off (well, I celebrated)? When seeing the name Oakenfold in production credits still equaled class?

Oh, yes, my newbie readers. Even if folks were divided on the merits of his DJing in those days, few disputed Paul’s worth as a producer, his track record throughout the '90s impeccable. Despite never actually spearheading any genre, whatever style he jumped on could be counted on as a worthy addition to the movement.

So, does anyone remember the buzz surrounding his involvement with the soundtrack to Hollywood’s faux-hacker thriller Swordfish? I wouldn’t blame you if you don’t, as it was buried under the other hype going into the movie: John Travolta doing the post-modern villain thing; Halle Berry showing nipples for an outlandish fee; Joel Silver, still flashing ‘bankable’ from The Matrix, being promoted as the hot producer for the flick. Yeah, Paul’s involvement probably didn’t register much in the minds of the movie biz faithful.

But, oh, did it matter in clubland. As far as many were concerned, this was the closest thing to a solo Oakenfold album yet (his work with Grace is often regarded as a collaborative effort), and his huge fanbase was eagre to check out the results.

Right, right. Swordfish isn’t exactly all Oakenfold. Three tracks don’t have his imprint on it, and one isn’t even from his label (the Lemon Jelly song, which unsurprisingly sounds the most unique amongst the others). Everything else, though, finds Paul getting his fingers in. Whether as producer, remixer, or collaborator, the Oakenfold (and Andy Gray, heh) touch is felt. Although you can definitely hear how these tracks would work in the movie itself, their worth isn’t hindered if you haven’t seen it (er, like me). Between clear-cut songs (Jan Johnston’s Unafraid; N*E*R*D’s Lapdance; the Planet Rock remix), trancey Perfecto cuts (Dark Machine; Muse’s New Born; Patient Saints’ On Your Mind), and obvious made-for-movie moments (Speed; Password), every one of them holds enough musical strength to keep your attention.

Holding everything together, and raising the bar on this release, is the maintained theme. While most soundtracks of this nature grab a collection of random, if not similar sounding tunes and hope for the best, Swordfish’s keeps the moody techno-trance tone intact for the duration. Even if the BPMs vary by ten or twenty, it flows naturally from song to song. This is arguably the most consistent soundtrack I’ve heard, short of orchestral and true solo works of course.

Unfortunately, Paul’s work here was doomed to soundtrack tie-in failure. There were no clear-cut singles to promote it and no big anthems tearing up the clubs from it. The final nail in the coffin was Swordfish’s own lackluster performance at the theater. Without a sizable audience eagre to hear the music associated with the flick, the soundtrack’s sales were paltry. Oakenfold’s ‘debut’ project was quickly forgotten with an unremarkable whimper, his attention now focused on a proper artist album. So endeth the Swordfish saga.

But what if - now this is the tricky part - what if folks looked past the theatrical tie-in. No movie, no hype: just treat it as a concept album, a collaborative effort with Paul’s ideas leading the charge. Lock, stock. Still no good? C’mon. How much Hollywood marketing thrown out the window would it take for the fans to reverse their stance on this soundtrack’s worthiness? And this is early 2001! There’s still optimism, still a lack of cynicism, and Paul’s star, Paul’s star is still shining!

Now, fast forward to today; diff’rent time, diff’rent place. How quickly we are to mock Oakenfold and slam anything he does in a matter of hours. An, an easily laughed at story, from Swordfish to Lively Mind. A sell-out stumble. Again, again. Relentless. Trip, splat. One after the other. All displayed on the ‘net: downloaded, compressed, mocked, and ridiculed; you can practically see the ship sinking. And all for what? A mansion, a plane? A couple million pounds of blow to shoot straight up the nose?

As easy as it is to point to Swordfish’s failure as the beginning of Oakenfold’s end, looking at just the music itself reveals some actual thought and consideration going into this. Treated as a collection of moody, trancey tunes, there’s some decent material to be had. And, no matter what you may think of Oakenfold these days, Swordfish is at least worth a pick-up should you ever spot it in a bargain bin along with the DVD, as some of these cuts don’t deserve to be lost with bungled Hollywood hype.

Well, just a thought.

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

Eurythmics - Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This)

RCA: 1983/2005

While Eurythmics had an album out prior to this one, Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This) may as well be the duo's debut regardless. In The Garden didn't generate much interest, most folks unsure whether these two transplants from The Tourists were worth keeping tabs on. Even when Lennox and Stewart changed course to the synth-heavy sound we commonly associate with early Eurythmics, the turnaround discourse wasn't immediate. The first couple singles, This Is the House and The Walk, passed by with barely any notice, and third EP Love Is A Stranger made the barest of impressions on the scene. You have to wonder if, at that point, the Eurythmics story was on the brink. Might have Lennox and Stewart called it quits if the next single for their sophomore album failed as well; perhaps receding into avante-garde endeavours, or maybe reforming The Tourists for another kick at the new wave can. Heck, they might have even split themselves, frustrated that their creative synergy kept falling on deaf ears! Fortunately for them, that single was Sweet Dreams, and it changed everything for Eurythmics.

There’s nothing I can add to the choir praising this track that you haven’t read or discovered for yourself. Do you know much about the accompanying album though? Maybe you do, if you were there at the beginning, rushing the shops to hear more of this strange detached new wave synth-pop as performed by a group taking Bowie’s androgynous style to new levels. However, I wager most only know it as ‘that album with the two great songs on it’, and skip it for a greatest hits package instead. It’s not like This Is The House and The Walk got folks talking – maybe too much brass in The Walk.

The rest of Sweet Dreams: The Album mostly find Lennox and Stewart doing the post-wave new synth-fusion soul pop thing they’re most commonly known for, though in a much stripped manner. As they had yet to blow up big, Stewart’s studio was still rather basic, making use of a mere eight-track console while recording. A lesser group would likely have crumbled under such limitations, but with clever song writing and Lennox’s powerful pipes bringing tons of soul to such a synthesized sound, the result was one of the more unique albums of the early ‘80s. They even got a little experimental, what with ethereal Jennifer and dubby This City Never Sleeps.

As with all re-issues, we get a few B-sides from that era, some of which are shocking. Take Monkey, Monkey from the Love Is A Stranger single: is that proto-techno I hear? It’s funky, instrumental, super electronic, and how has no one ever talked about it being from 1982? Or how about the proto-EBM Baby’s Gone Blue from the Sweet Dreams single? There’s also a Moroder remix of Sweet Dreams (!), and an early Coldcut remix of Love Is A Stranger (!!). Damn, forget the big hits, these are worth picking up this CD alone.

Swayzak - Some Other Country (Original TC Review)

Studio !K7: 2007

(2015 Update:
This was the last album Swayzak produced while signed to Studio !K7. They put out another LP a couple years after, Re: Serieculture on the short-lived Japanese label Timothy Really (?), then split a short while later. David Brown carries the name now, producing techno as s_w_z_k, while James Taylor releases experimental material as Lugano Fell. Both are alright, I suppose, but clearly their best days are well behind, when they led the fashionable minimal dub surge at the turn of the millennium. Still, it wouldn't surprise me in the least if they reunited for a mini-tour. It's what all semi-popular club acts do eventually.

Obviously, their splitting turns this review totally dated, assuming the Swayzak story would have many more years. Instead, it now comes off as a last gasp attempt to stay relevant in an increasingly crowded field of minimal tech-dub house whatevers. Some Other Country has held up decently enough for the time, Swayzak already pretty darn skill at this sound when everyone else was rushing into have their piece. If it didn't interest you before though, I'd check out their earlier albums before this one.)


IN BRIEF: In the groove.

There seems to be two journalistic camps when it comes to Swayzak: either you’ve been a dedicated chronicler of their decade-long career, or you only come across them whenever an album or single happens upon your desk. It’s created an odd assortment of reviews of their material over the years, where some will cast a spotlight upon the duo as though they have just as much star power as The Chemical Brothers, while others give them a bemused warming for their ‘just quirky enough’ brand of chilled grooves. Similarly, the old faithful are still waiting for Swayzak to come correct on their potential promise, while the opposite end of the spectrum are quite intrigued by their sonic tricks. Granted, this could be said for any number of acts, but Swayzak is indeed one of those duos that could have made it as big as, say, AIR, had things been ever so slightly different.

I suppose yours truly falls somewhere in the middle of these two outlooks when it comes to the UK duo; casual fans are like that. Unsurprisingly then, my thoughts regarding their new album Some Other Country does too. I write it as I hear it: this is a solid offering that keeps the Swayzakian ship steady on course, despite an apparent lack of care regarding a destination. They seem to have had their fill of stylistic exploration and are quite content to concentrate on song writing rather than experimentation.

This isn’t to say the album is devoid of variation. Swayzak willfully jump genres with cool confidence befit of a veteran duo with their talent. Techno, dub, minimal, and even malian influences all make appearances but are seldom the driving force behind what you hear. Rather, you get the sense they had a certain song they wanted to make, then decided to add a twist to it after the blueprint was laid out to give it a little more personality. And it certainly works in that regard.

For instance, opener Quiet Life has all the requisite trappings of a blissy slice of mellow minimal house: atmospheric synths, breezy vocals from Cassy Britton, and clicky backings. All fairly standard pieces as far as this sound is concerned, yet Swayzak add just a touch of uniqueness to the song that saves it from quickly fading from your memory - in this case, an odd lifeless voice stating the title which is in stark contrast to Britton’s own lyrics.

Another example? How about second track So Cheap? I’ve a feeling Swayzak had a discussion going something like this when making it:

James: “I say, David m’chap, this is a right pretty minimal track here, but it’s missing just a bit of something else. Fancy any ideas?”
David: “Hmm... well, I had this really crazy one. I don’t know if we should do it though.”
James: “Why, what is it?”
David: “James m’boy, it’s unlike anything those mainlanders in Berlin are doing. It’ll fly in their good ol’ faces.”
James: “Blimey, I’m sold! Do tell!”
David: “I fancied throwing in an actual... melody, y’know? Oh, we’ll still do some nifty minimal effects and all that rot, but let a melody carry it for good portions too.”
James: “Oh my... Who puts melody into minimal these days? It’s just unheard of.”
David: “I know, m’boy, I know. Fak it, let’s do anyway. Might go well somewhere before that Afro-jazz thingy we got going in Claktronic.”

Heh, okay, probably not, bad English accent and all.

Still, there are other examples of the duo throwing interesting twists to what would otherwise be pretty standard tunes in the hands of others. A confounding time signature in the proto-trancey Distress And Calling; having a tragic euro-artiste styled vocal provided by indie rockers Les Fauves on top of moody slice of brooding techno (Silent Luv); big bouncy bright synths at the tail end of gripping spacey dub in They Return.

Even when they play things straighter, Swayzak craft some decidedly moving tunes. No Sad Goodbyes featuring recurring guest vocalist Richard Davis is just as stirring as anything they’ve collaborated with in the past (“Taking us back to the dark street littered with good intentions...” Lovely lyrics!).

Some Other Country isn’t the dynamic release long time fans have been wistfully waiting for, as many of Swayzak’s tricks will undoubtedly be over familiar with them at this point in their career. However, despite being executed in such a low-key manner, this is still a reasonably enjoyable album. If anything, each track offers just enough interest to keep your attention as it plays through, a feat that is unfortunately rare when it comes to electronic full-lengths.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2007. © All rights reserved

The Chemical Brothers - Surrender

Astralwerks: 1999

The Chemical Brothers were kings of the big beat castle, a deserved title considering they practically built the damn thing themselves. A string of classic singles, two seminal albums, and a live show then unparalleled in electronic music, it'd take much to dethrone them. As the 20th Century neared its end, however, many would-be usurpers were storming the gates, ready to nab the crowns off Simons and Rowlands. The Crystal Method came with the pitchforks; Fatboy Slim with the battering ram; Junkie XL with the wire-fu crew; The Wiseguys with a donkey. The Chemical Brothers were seasoned veterans though, and ain't no way they’d go quietly into the night. They had their own counter-attack in the works, y'see, a third album ready to hit shelves with just as much aplomb as Exit Planet Dust and Dig Your Own Hole. Surely it would be another big beat masterpiece, proving once and for all they could never be knocked off their peak, their summit, their- No, wait, that's not right. They instead abandoned big beat altogether, releasing an LP of house and techno grooves. So that's why they named the album Surrender.

Really, The Chemie Bros had nothing to prove, deciding the time was right showing off other genres they could tackle. Making things easier in getting playlisted by all the very important progressive house DJs probably didn't hurt their decision either. Surrender thus comes with very simple caveats for all potential listeners: if you like their block rockin' beats and only their block rockin' beats, you won't dig this album. If you're a Chemical fan for life though - through the fun times and the 'artistic' ones – then you already have Surrender in your collection, don't you.

The more interesting question, then, is whether it was love at first listen, or it took some warming up to. I can't deny Surrender wasn't what I was expecting, especially with such a lacklustre lead single in Hey Boy, Hey Girl, at least compared to previous leads. I was also stupid burnt-out on The Chemical Brothers anyway, all the hype that went into Dig Your Own Hole necessitating a brief break from their sound. I think it was hearing the sub-whoofer demolishing Under The Influence on the WipEout 3 soundtrack that got me curious again. Video games can do that.

And there’s still vintage Chemical Brothers on here. Opener Music: Response has them big, beefy beats hitting, but this time coupled with some psychedelic electro. Let Forever Be once again teams up with Noel Gallagher as they forever chase The Beatles, while Asleep From Day, Dream On and the titular cut fear no starry-eyed sunrise at Glastonbury. On the other hand, Out Of Control sounds tailor made for the action movie crowd, The Sunshine Underground a massive festival climax, and Got Glint? a deep house club on acid (those claps!). All this is enough that I can vibe with Surrender on its own merits, a worthy capper to their trilogy of ‘90s albums.

Polygon Window - Surfing On Sine Waves

Warp Records: 1992/2000

The only Aphex Twin album you're supposed to have, if you want to have an Aphex Twin album that's not by Aphex Twin. No, the AFX stuff doesn't count, because you can totally tell it's the same guy. Who in their sane mind could tell Polygon Window was also a Richard D. James alias though? Not from a casual glance, no sir, though as soon as you throw this record on the player, it's pretty damn obvious. The main reason it wasn’t billed asan Aphex Twin album is ol’ Rich had yet to settle on a consistent alias, not to mention all the label politicking that went down in those days. His famous moniker was still an Apollo exclusive, he was using ‘Bradley Strider’ on his own Rephlex print, and ain’t no way Ffrreedom was letting go of Power-Pill. Thus, here’s Polygon Window making his debut on Warp Records.

Some state Surfing On Sine Waves as the best LP Mr. Dee James has ever put out. Yes, better than either Selected Ambient Works, better than his self-titled album, and even better than the best Aphex Twin album to come out in the last fifteen years, Syro. What could possibly be on this ancient record that has longtime Aphex fans proclaiming such a thing? Ambient techno, obviously, though some regular UK bleep and acid techno too. Nothing super mind-bending or obtuse for its own sake either - just interesting, intelligent tunes made in the Aphex aesthetic. As Surfing On Sine Waves was released as the second volume of Warp Records’ seminal Artificial Intelligence series (which included both compilations and artist albums), perhaps The Richarded One played nice with the fledgling London label. Or maybe he’d yet to discover his inner brilliant, wanker swagger.

The closest comparison Surfing On Sine Waves comes to the rest of Mr. James’ oeuvre is the first Selected Ambient Works. Hardly surprising since they were released around the same time, but these tracks are definitely more techno than ambient. Audax Powder has a gentle pad melody going for it, then changes gears to a bouncy rave beat. Dot goes for a moody atmosphere in robot Hell, and Quino-Phec is all sorts of dark, calming drone as found on the later volume of SAW. Reissues added Portreath Harbour and Redruth School, both sounding like early SAW session tracks that didn’t make the cut.

Other tracks fear no hardcore rhythm, Supremacy II getting its proper rave on, Quixote doing a techno-trance thing, and the titular opener showing them UK lads could go a little Detroit, should they so choose. Surprisingly, there’s some ‘conventional’ music here too, Quoth bangin’ percolating machine techno, If It Really Is Me rather drab piano techno, and an untitled track toying around with standard acid. Hey, Aphex Twin really is human after all!

At its best, Surfing On Sine Waves is a heavier, if simpler companion to James’ more famous work of the period. Not a must-have, but definitely worth the time invested.