Derek Carr - The Digital Space Race

Psychonavigation Records: 2008

Derek Carr isn't super-obscure like some of these Psychonavigation folks are. He has some half-dozen records to his name in the early ‘00s, though mostly jumped from label to label in doing so. By the time he found a semi-permanent home with the Ireland print, he’d already released two albums on another Ireland print, Nice & Nasty Records. And his self-released debut single, Copperbeech EP, is apparently something of a rare collectible for ‘Irish techno by way of Detroit’ enthusiasts, because this is also apparently a scene. That actually has me wondering if Derek Carr is actually his real name. I mean, I can only assume it is so, but Lord Discogs doesn’t have any bio on the guy, and anyone also making Detroit techno with a name like that can’t be a coincidence. Okay, it can, but c’mon, really? Are folks with that combination of syllables just destined to make music of a similar sound? The Techno Gods are weird.

In case it hasn’t become obvious by now, Derek Carr makes minimal gabber; and by ‘minimal gabber’, I of course mean Detroit techno. Its more ‘space age’ than the genre typically goes, The Digital Space Race at times coming off like early Apollo material. Openers Horizons and Butterfly could have found an easy home on those seminal ambient techno compilations, while Letters and Grassy Plains fears no pianos being coupled with their soft electro breaks. Elsewhere, the future funk is present and correct with tracks like 678, Departed Emotion, and Home, while Mr. Carr indulges with a little spritely indulgences with Juvenile and Sis. Plus, can’t neglect the strict ambient cuts, the short Dilated Beyond Belief (hilarious title!) serving as an intermission of sorts, and Surrounded By Nature taking us out in good ol’ space drone fashion.

Um, that’s The Digital Space Race all summed up then, isn’t it. If you’ve ever heard retro Detroit techno, you’ve heard this album, and Mr. Carr isn’t in any sort of hurry to shake the foundations. The tunes are all nice and arranged well enough, but they don’t leap out in any significant way either. Not even the strictly old school production is much of a unique selling point. Novel perhaps, especially for a 2008 release, but this is Derek Carr’s preferred style of music making, and far from the only chap around doing it. Yet I’m hesitant to call The Digital Space Race something silly like ‘recycled’, ‘rote’, or ‘retro to a fault’, because it most definitely is not that either. It may sound sprung from suburban Detroit in the year 1994, but futurism will never age.

As for Carr, he’s put out a couple more albums on Psychonavigation since this one, but more interestingly recently released another single on Trident. This was the ‘print’ he set up to self-release his first single, which I guess he dusted off to put out another EP through Bandcamp. Now wouldn’t that be something, seeing a re-issue of the old Copperbeach EP too.

Various - Digiseeds: Compiled By Ambientium

Ultimae Records: 2015

It took nearly the entirety of 2015, but Ultimae finally released some new music. Okay, they had a single or two earlier in the year, even taking their first bold steps into the vinyl market, but it wasn't until the autumn months we saw anything for us foolish CD collectors. Not that I blame the label for a downturn, taking their time in digitally re-issuing older material for an ever increasing streaming market. Ah well, at least I still had Altar tiding me over.

Ultimae also appears to have spent this fallow year scoping their 'panoramic music' scene for new blood, inviting wandering ambient and chill talents into their fold. Ambientium, or Lubomir Cvrk to the Czech Republic Bureau Of Ambienting, hasn’t released much in his half-decade of music making, but has garnered a respectable cult following in that time. Mostly self-releasing his own material, he’s had a smattering of tracks appear on compilations from Kahvi Collective and Mindsrping Music in recent years, which was apparently enough for Ultimae to come knocking. That, and a few folks were making comparisons between the two as far back as Ambientium’s first album, Fractal Philosophy. Taking a quick listen to it, and oh... oh my! I’m getting some serious Distant System vibes off that album. Hard copy now, please!

Digiseeds, on the other hand, sounds nothing like Distant System (or Androcell, or any other Tyler Smith project). Rather, it’s a new concept compilation series from Ultimae, with Ambientium handling the helm in its first outing. Not sure if it’s Mr. Cvrk’s own series to do with as he pleases, or if it will feature a rotating guest of compilers; heck, I don’t even know if there will be a follow-up, as Ultimae’s had some difficulty in getting any new series going since Fahrenheit Project ended. Hoping for the latter though, especially if they turn out as good as this CD has.

Yeah, yeah, me saying an Ultimae release is good is like calling water wet. I can’t help it that they keep releasing mint material. Ambientium has gathered a remarkable collection of calming music here, where tones, textures, and timbre float through wide open sonic spaces. Its mood music for the mind and soul, best enjoyed on gray morning afters for a little uplifting of the spirit (probably). There’s familiar names in Lars Leonhard and Martin Nonstatic (trust me, he’ll be familiar soon enough) to utter unknowns like Mandrax and Synapsia (lone Lord Discogs entries!). There’s space ambient with One Arc Degree’s Seven Years Of Summer and Ambientium’s Heartbeat, to dubbier glitch with Ocoeur’s Outside and Cloower Wooma’s Human Disease. Mandrax’s Melting has a twee toybox piano melody that has me thinking it’d make for a nice life insurance commercial, and State Azure’s Vertigo has a little old-school sequencers going for it with the dubbed-out textures.

And thus another solid collection from Ultimae. Almost worth the whole year to hear some. Not so long until the next though, eh?

Eat Static - Dead Planet

Mesmobeat: 2015

I was wondering if Eat Static would ever release another album, then ol' Merv goes and gives us a double-album. No wonder he took so long then, and a good idea too. His last foray into the LP domain saw two CDs released as well, though on separate labels focusing on completely different styles. It was a neat idea to feature an exclusively downtempo album for Interchill, but it’d probably be a hard-sell twice. Folks come to Eat Static for the tear-out psy with the crazy cybernetic leads and pulpy sci-fi samples; the few mellow moments under the stoner sun are best served as respites.

Well nothing doing for Dead Planet, once again splitting the Eat Static stylee up between two discs, uptempo stuff on the titular CD, and a chill offering in the second tray titled Human Upgrade. Interestingly, this has been released on Mesmobeat, the label Eat Static set-up for themselves after Planet Dog died, and been in semi-limbo for the past half-decade. What, did no one else want to give this double-LP a chance?

Dead Planet kicks off with another System 7 pairing, tickling all those old-school goa trance triggers in my head. It pretty much goes for the twisted full-on stuff from there though (with one obligatory mint d’n’b leaning cut with Ringlefinch), tracks evolving in dark-psy fashion before unleashing a spacey bit for the climax. It’s all well-produced, but as with so much modern psy-trance, hasn’t evolved much in the past decade, and the same is true for Eat Static’s take on the sound, sci-fi quirks aside. And yet, it’s better than Merv’s dip into other music here. Dragon’s Breath is a frightfully dull tech-plodder, while In All Worlds with Robert Smith is a fine track on a cyberpunk soundtrack, but way out of place here. And Odious Odium sounds like it’s building up to a hideously obnoxious brostep drop (clap builds! glitch-bends!), then does an awesome one-eighty into spaced-out tear-out psy (that low-end!). That’s the Eat Static I love!

Human Upgrade meanwhile... holy cow, where did this album come from? As the chiller side of Eat Static, I was expecting some psy-dub rubs, or maybe a throwback cut that might have appeared on the old Planet Dog compilations. And the first few tracks do offer this, even getting Robbert Heynen of the former Psychick Warriors Ov Gaia in with Near Future Myth (dear Lord, such expansive sonics!). The back-end of CD2 then grows more ethnic, orchestrated, and wordly with the beats. There were hints of this sound on Back To Earth, but ol’ Merv’s taken things to another level here, sounding like latter-era Juno Reactor in some parts. I know I said hearing Eat Static without the quirkiness feels off, but if lush production like this is what we can also expect, I’m all for it.

Dead Planet as a whole is quite a bit to take in, but is well worth the investment for followers of the alien nation.

Arpatle - The Day After

Psychonavigation Records: 2012

Look, when I said my trawl of Psychonavigation Records' blowout sale would reveal some super obscure producers, I meant it. Wait, did I say that? I can't remember now. That big purchase was many months ago, with so much more having arrived in my towers since. My initial fears of an over-abundance of the Ireland label's material in my current backlog queue is moot, plenty more albums breaking up any potential monotony. Not that the albums I did get are redundant retreads of the same sounds, oh no! I'm amazed just how diverse Psychonavigation's proving to be, and that's including me totally ignoring all the shoegaze rock stuff. Maybe a little chillwave though.

Then, our obscure artist for the day is Patrick Bossink, or Arpatle to those buying his music. You might remember him from the Psychonavigation compilation Psychonavigation Sampler 2013, and the cassette Ik En Jij, Allebei from Yoshimi!. Oh come on, there’s no way you’ve heard that one. Maybe one of Arpatle’s other albums though, Continuum from 2009 on Family Garden Recordings, or the recently released Quapi on Offshoot Records. The Day After is the LP lodged between those two in his discography, and I’m really struggling with the background details of this guy, aren’t I? It’s the entire internet’s fault, hopelessly scarce in info surrounding him. Lord Discogs just has him down as an ambient producer from Holland. His website has even less info than that, merely a window to his releases on various online platforms. At least Mr. Bossink wrote a few more lines for his Last.fm biography, mentioning he’s been studying Music and Technologies at the Utrecht School Of Arts. Yeah, The Day After totally has the markings of an arts student.

If anything, Arpatle loves treating the studio as a mini symphony, utilizing unconventional tones, sounds, and instruments in crafting his music. Opener Solstitium has something of a Far East thing going for it, but uses an xylophone (or some mallet instrument, I’m no expert) for its lead, then goes into an extended dubbed-out excursion in the middle before returning to the twee melodies. Follow-up Crickets nabs some field recordings of nocturnal critters (I hear more frogs than crickets), then goes for a minimalist excursion through dubby tones and treatments. Third track goes drone with its effects, though has a chipper country mood about it, as though we’re riding along some Western setting on our horses. On acid.

To abstract, you know those interlude moments on Future Sound Of London albums, where they indulge themselves with sonic collages and experimental doodling? That’s what much of The Day After sounds like, though tighter in composition. Some tracks, like shoegazey Arctic Trip and the lush ambience of Wake Me Up, are quite the treat for the ears. Others, like ultra-minimalist Headache and spacious Satie’s Birthday (so much space!), instead come off as Arpatle having some art-house fun in his studio. It’s all quite pleasant, though lacking musical muscle to stay lodged in your head for long.

Perturbator - Dangerous Days

Blood Music: 2014

So synthwave's now a thing. Who knows if this neo-'80s scene has much longevity – it's not like electroclash lasted a significant amount of time – but as we are, there's a growing fascination with the decade that brought us neon-glazed urban dystopia. Mostly following in the footsteps of Jan Hammer, John Carpenter, and a whole lotta’ Sega racing games, it's sole purpose is in recreating the soundtracks of every D-grade sci-fi pulp movie and splatter-slasher flick from the '80s, many of which are lost to time and degraded VHS tapes. Initially a digital market, it’s gained enough traction that a few names have large enough followings that some labels are investing significant pressing factory time. Perturbator, or James Kent on his Delorean insurance papers, has been one of the scene’s biggest names, and became a de facto ambassador of the darker end of synthwave thanks to the popularity of his contributions to the Hotline Miami video game series.

So popular is Perturbator that he can release multiple collector’s represses of vinyl and cassette, and folks will keep snatching them up. Dangerous Days, his third full-length, has some nineteen variations released, and you just know there’s a die-hard or two who’s gathered every record, CD, and tape. Man, Blood Music sure knows how to cater to obsessives.

What’s set Perturbator apart from all the other bedroom synthwave wibblers is his know-how in the album domain. Each LP could serve as the soundtrack of a feature-length flick (likely financed by The Cannon Group, Inc.), but Mr. Kent doesn’t get so wrapped up in retro navel gazing as many synthwavers go. He instead uses the fantastical urban pulp of yore as a starting point to go in his own way, creating his own vision of helmeted vigilantes confronting the cyborg ruling class controlled by mega-corporations, and all that good rot. Hey, it’s right there in his Dangerous Days’ liner notes, a detailed screed setting the tone and theme of the music within. C’mon, I just know you wanna’ see the movie now.

Pft, no motion picture is required with this album. Just take your standard neo-‘80s tropes and paint the imagery yourself. Aw yeah, Perturbator’s Theme sees him cruising down the rain-soaked dark alleys. Future Club finds our vigilante scoping out the seedy underground looking for hot tips and cool tricks. Hard Wired brings us a touch of detached romance in a cold, cruel, chrome city. The robots are on the counter-attack in Humans Are Such Easy Prey. High octane chases sequences with nitro-turbo on Complete Domination. A quiet, reflective moment in Last Kiss, before the all-out assault with the titular twelve-minute climax to Dangerous Days. Right, something like all that.

Of course, almost all of synthwave fosters such iconography, practically to a fault. Perturbator does it better than most though, and having Blood Music as his graphic designer certainly helps set him above the pack. If you’re curious what this scene has to offer, Dangerous Days is as solid a starting point as any.

Lorenzo Montanà - Black Ivy

Fax +49-69/450464/Psychonavigation Records: 2009/2015

For a chap who’s relatively flown under the radar, Lorenzo Montanà’s built up quite the remarkable discography for himself. He got his break releasing this particular album back in Fax +49-69/450464’s waning days, but more impressively released five LPs titled Labyrinth with Pete Namlook. Meanwhile, Mr. Montanà found the time to release a second full-length, Serpe, on the label before they were forced to shut doors following Mr. Kaulmann’s untimely death. This all happened within the span of three years! I know the Namlookian One could draw several sessions out of well-known musicians (Klaus Schulz, Move D, Bill Laswell, etc.) but it’s damn cool he continued doing it even with new cats on the scene too. He must have had quite the synergy going with ol’ Lorenzo to rattle off so much music with him in such a short amount of time.

When Fax+ folded, Mr. Montanà migrated over to Psychonavigation Records, where he continues releasing albums at an impressive clip. Somehow they rescued his two solo releases from legal limbo as a 2CD reissue, which is technically what I’m reviewing here now. But Black Ivy is a ‘B’ album, while Serpe is an ‘S’ album, so part two of this double release will have to wait a month (really).

So now that I’ve namedropped a couple labels and producers with clearly recognizable music styles (Psychonavigation is recognizable on this blog now, yes?), that saves me some word count in describing Mr. Montanà’s work here. Because this is some difficult stuff to detail, believe you me. Not that Black Ivy is over-produced with micro-edits and the like, his forays into clicky minimalism quite tasteful and easy to take in - it kinda’ rests in the Venn diagram where classic ambient techno ends and modern IDM starts. His rhythms run the range from jazzy skitters (Erasing You, Kirkuk Lake, Misteries Of Nature) to downtempo click-glitch (Insect Invasion, Haliaras) to steady techno pulse (Sap 2, Dionaea, Black Ivy). Everything’s coupled with lush melodic pieces, usually melancholic and nicely wide-screened for an optimal listening experience. Not that I’d expect less from someone who made multi-channel albums with Namlook.

Despite these nice things said about Black Ivy, you’ve undoubtedly detected a hint of apathy with my words above. Two points of contention then. First, though this is a 2009 release, for some reason I keep thinking it’s from much earlier, say 2001-ish. The mild glitch production does keep it firmly current, but the ideas have me thinking material from a decade earlier. Did Mr. Montanà have a ton of stored, unreleased material before debuting with this?

It’d explain my other quibble with Black Ivy, in that this album doesn’t feel like an album-LP, just a collection of finely crafted tracks. Certainly nothing wrong with that, and I’d be amazed if ol’ Lorenzo knocked it out of the park on his first go. It’s a debut that shows tons of future promise in his career, just in need of some refinement with the format.

Liquid Stranger - The Arcane Terrain

Interchill Records: 2011

In his near decade of music making, Liquid Stranger has shown no fear in tackling any and all forms of bass heavy dub beats. Sometimes this has led him to the realms of psy-dub or dancehall grime, but other times he's wilfully tackled teeth-grinding dubsteb too. And while I know full well to avoid his (probable) bro'd out endeavours on Rottun, that doesn't mean his material on other labels won't have instances to the stuff either. Even Interchill Records, they of so much world beat vibes, couldn't be completely resistant to it. Fact is if you’re releasing any form of bass music in British Columbia, you have to show your hand on what aspects of dubstep you can bring. The market is just too big, too involved, to completely ignore it. And if ever there was a year to sell-out to that scene completely, it’d be ye’ olde time of 2011, when dubstep was brought screeching into popular discourse by a stray Skr-r-r-r-r-rillex. Thus, this was Mr. Stääf’s big chance to show me how versatile he truly was, whether he could drop a dubstep album on my ears with all these potentially disastrous elements at play.

Oh, who am I kidding? This is all just coincidence. I picked The Arcane Terrain up because the cover intrigued me, as quirky covers so often do. Artist and label aside, I’m still not sure how this wasn’t a forest psy CD.

And while that ‘show me’ angle does have some truth, it’s all pretty much moot Yes, at times The Arcane Terrain sounds like it’s an album entirely geared for the festival circuit. That doesn’t mean it’s a dubstep love-in, Liquid Stranger more often than not getting his muse on with the dancehall side of dub than anything else. That still leaves him with some annoyingly barebones tracks though, like second track Bombaclaad Star, nothing going for it than a steady hand-waving bop and an occasional mid-range fill (MC Shells’ toasting is hopelessly dull); y’know, the scene of every cliché dubstep party ever. Other tracks like Steam and Timeless follow this template too, but if Liquid Stranger was just a one-trick pony in this vein, I’d never have started digging into his discography in the first place.

I could have done without the protest-grime cuts Rise and Babylon Beast, but cool on Mr. Stääf’s part in getting KRS-One and Killah Priest on these tracks. My jam though, is always the pure reggae roots of dub music, with The Molecule Man and Vigilante doing the deed just fine. We also get some dabbling into bhangra (Totem, Laguna), gitch-chill (Overlord), trip-hop (The Squid Strander), and whatever’s going on with Zero Gravity (Balearic chill-grime?). More than ever, it shows how diverse Liquid Stranger can go, even when he doesn’t have to.

The Arcane Terrain is probably still too dubsteppy for those who can’t stand the stuff, but if you have some tolerances for the mid-range wobbles, there’s plenty other dubbed-out tunes to satisfy your ears.

ACE TRACKS: December 2015

Holy cow! That’s the letter ‘S’ now done. Over. Finished. I first started on this chunk of my music collection all the way back in May! True, there was a couple weeks of downtime in that period, plus nearly three weeks worth of alphabetical backtrack at the midway point, but damn, I never would have predicted taking to the very end of 2015 to get through it all. And it felt I was brute-forcing my way just to do it too. Know what’s even more insane though? No, not the backtrack queue that’s developed since the last one, though fair warning we’re looking at a month-plus before getting through all that. ‘T’ is almost as big a beast as ‘S’, only about thirty albums less. So, though I doubt I’ll still be plowing through that letter come summer, get ready for another long letter haul in this New Year. Meanwhile, here’s the Ace Tracks that took us to the end of ‘S’ this past month of December.


Full track list here.

MISSING ALBUMS:
Koichi Sugiyama - Symphonic Suite “Dragon Quest” Complete CD-Box
Koichi Sugiyama - Symphonic Suite “Dragon Quest VIII”
Kon Kan - Syntonic
A Positive Life - Synaesthetic
Various - DJ-Kicks: Claude Young

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 7%
Percentage Of Rock: 0%
Most “WTF?” Track: Nothing comes to mind. Yes, not even the Aphex Twin tracks.

Oh, hey, none of those symphonic suites are on Spotify, what a surprise. Maybe on the Japanese version of the streaming service they are? Not that many folks reading this blog will likely care, but hey, thanks for letting me get my gaming dork indulgence on for a week there. If you must hear this music (!!), I did make a continuous mix of several pieces from these assorted CDs. It’s out there, on the internet, somewhere. Exciting.

What you get with this playlist, however, is a lot of techno. Like, I’m actually shocked by how much techno there is. Aphex Twin obviously, but even names you’d never expect get in on that action too. I guess it’s only fitting that after a month of the smallest percentage of electronic music reviews, the subsequent playlist would have the heaviest amount of traditional stuff.

System 7 - System 7 (Original TC Review)

10 Records: 1991

(2015 Update:
I've still yet to take the plunge into System 7's full discography. Shame on me. There's no reason I shouldn't have by now, especially with so much online streaming available at my whim. Maybe that should be a New Year's resolution, to finally take in the entirety of Steve Hillage and Miquette Giraudy, and all their quarter-century of System 7ing. It's not like I expect some wild, unfortunate genre experiments along the way, the duo essentially sticking to their psychedelic trance, prog- rock jamborees through the years (decades!). If anything, their debut remains the least System 7y thing they ever System 7'd.

This review isn't as cynical as I remember, though why I had to get my hate on with the accordion, I don't recall. No wait, I was still feeding off the backlash of Samin's Heater, that's why. I suppose I couldn't help but let my Gen-X jadedness get the better of me too, snickering at such earnest lyrics. Funny how a few extra years of added wisdom has mellowed my stance on them now. That is wisdom I feel now, right? Maybe just gas.)


IN BRIEF: A prog rocker gets chummy with dance culture.

Probably the last name you’d expect to have a trendy club hit in this year of 2008 would be Steve Hillage’s System 7 project. Although he and Miquette Giraudy have long been respected figures within dance music, their tendency to skew towards the psychedelic side of the electronic spectrum hasn’t earned them the spotlight since that style’s mid-90s heyday. Yet along comes Mr. Minimal-Marmite-Man Dubfire with one of his remixes, and propels the latest System 7 single Song Bird high into some of the more hip dance charts out there.

Such seems to be the story of Hillage’s career. It isn’t so much you’d expect him to fade into obscurity, but for all intents and purposes one would assume his contemporary relevance should. After nearly two decades as a prog rock guitarist, Hillage discovered acid house when Alex Paterson of The Orb fame discovered him. System 7 is born soon afterwards, gained a plethora of fans amongst the early goa-trance scene, became a fixture at Glastonbury’s dance tent, and just when you’d think this project has slipped away into irrelevancy, it’s thrust once again into the presence of another generation of party-goers. Perhaps that hippie attitude has provided Hillage with plenty of good karma after-all. Where he goes from here is anyone’s guess, but even if this recent mini-thrust back into the spotlight is to be his last, Hillage has done plenty in his career to deserve such good will.

Really, I don’t think anyone would have expected Hillage to be a fixture within dance music culture for so long given the rather unique plunge System 7 first took. This self-titled 1991 debut is a strange relic of its time, where scene networking could yield powerhouse collaborations of the sort found on here. Along with Dr. Paterson, you have Hillage working with techno-don Derrick May, at-the-time ace-producer Paul Oakenfold, Steve Waddington of The Beloved fame (remember them?), and Martin Glover (Youth) just on this album alone (the System 7 moniker would go on to include work with Laurent Garnier, Juno Reactor, Carl Craig, Greg Hunter, Drum Club, and recently Jam el Mar and Eat Static - whew, but is this ever a namedrop session). Yet, because System 7's concept was more about Hillage’s forays into dance music, the idea of this being some kind of electronic music supergroup was never really considered.

Nowadays, this album has mostly faded from the collective clubbing consciousness for various reasons. For one thing, it remains the only album that hasn’t been re-issued on Hillage’s new A-Wave label, although legal complications with the distributors - UK-based Ten and American-based Caroline (whom had to change the group’s name to 777 over other legal complications) - may have something to do with that. Primarily, though, it tends to be neglected since it bears little resemblance to the sort of music the project would go on to be known for.

And just what kind of music is on here? If you’re familiar with Stereo MC’s, that’ll give you a starting point, because another thing that easily dates System 7 to the early 90s is the incredibly liberal melting pot of genres on offer. There’s house, techno, ambient, soul, breaks, prog, pop, and even hints of psychedelia. With so many different influences contributing, there was no possible way a cohesive style would dominate throughout. Heck, where does one even start when describing what these songs sound like? How about the material that isn’t dated?

The Derrick May pairings easily sound fresh even today. Thumping techno cut Altitude remains superb, with Listen and ambient-intermission Fractal Liason finding the Detroit native’s futuristic touch working wonders with Hillage’s spacey guitar work; any of these offerings could hold their own in a modern-day set. Meanwhile, Alex Paterson’s ambient house specialty can be felt on Sunburst, along with his studio wizardry in Dog, coda-like follow-up Thunderdog, and the straight-forward club-cut Miracle (where Oakenfold lends his talents as well). The production on these is quite remarkable too, where it seldom feels like you’re being fed simple dance loops. There be practiced musicians in them studios, my friends, with arrangements that make ample use of their experienced song-writing skills.

On the other hand, the vocal songs are way early 90s. Whether it be Aniff Cousins’ contemplative raps (think a proto-Maxi Jazz) or Olu Rowe’s soulful singing, their themes remain constant. Freedom Fighters, Habibi, Bon Humeur, Dog, and Strange Quotations all feature lyrics that feed off the “good times are coming” attitude that was prevalent in much of the Western world following the collapse of the Soviet Union. All fine and well, I suppose; you certainly have to admire the optimism. However - and this may just be a generational gap thing - some of the messages delivered in these songs strike me as New-Agey Boomer platitudes, something that was quite common in adult pop music of the time. Looking back on it now with the benefit (detriment?) of cynical Gen-X hindsight, one can’t help but feel a little embarrassed that all the hope of social and political change of that time never gained much traction. Musically these songs are fine (well, aside from that accordion in Strange Quotations), but whether you enjoy the lyrics or not will probably boil down to personal preference. Interestingly, vocals were seldom utilized by System 7 after this release.

Anyhow, fast-forwarding back to 2008, System 7 is certainly a product of its time, and frankly has a difficult time holding up. It’s seldom mentioned when talk of early 90s releases is taking place, and despite the strong musicianship on display, remains lacking in anything one could identify as ‘classic.’ If you’re in the market for electronic music from that era, you’ll find definite worth in this album. However, for those instead just looking to get acquainted with System 7's discography, the Point 3 releases are a better starting point.

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

Aphex Twin - Syro

Warp Records: 2014

Hey, remember when there was a new Aphex Twin album? Boy, it sure was an exciting time when that new Aphex Twin album showed up out of nowhere. Everyone got to wax nostalgic about what Aphex Twin's music meant to them again. Music rags got to write up Aphex Twin retrospectives for the fourth or fifth time. Journalists got to pontificate on why Aphex Twin is such a Very Important Person in the world of techno again. Folks were just plain ol' happy to see Aphex Twin active again, even though Richard D. James hadn't left in the first place. And we wouldn’t take him for granted as we did following Druqks, no sir. We’d keep him on that pedestal he earned back in the ‘90s, forever proclaiming the new Aphex Twin album an LP without peer, beyond compare, the best new music now and forever, a- oh, wait, no one’s talking much about Syro anymore, are they. Damn, maybe he should stop flooding his Soundcloud with so much music, let us soak in an actual album for a change.

So Syro: the record with a simple title and a dozen confounding song titles (and a hilarious expenses list that runs for six foldouts!). Rumours abound as to why the RDJ’d One felt compelled to give the world another full-length of music, though as with all things with the man from the lands of Cornish, it was probably all just a whim. Like, did he really need money again? Would Warp Records really pester him to fulfill a record deal? Nah, more plausible he just wanted a chuckle over the salivating reactions at seeing the Aphex Twin moniker reactivated. Nice of him to supply us with a solid album of tunes in the process.

While no two releases from Are Deejay ever sound the same, this does have some similarities to his mid-‘90s work than anything else. There isn’t so much micro-computer editing, drill-n-bassing, or real instrument keyboard doodling, but rather getting a playful groove on, tinkering with some sounds and effects, and riding an electro acid-funk jam wherever it may lead. Considering how much Aphex Twin always sounded weird and alien, it’s odd hearing him doing something that sounds much closer to our earthly realms. True, it’s future-Earth we’re dealing with, but we’re still on good ol’ terra firma just the same. Get some shuffle on with, er, that third track. Or find yourself at a robot junglist party with, um, those last run of tracks. Or feel that throwback rave anthem with the fifth cut.

Look, I’m not gonna’ actually name these tracks. They read like computer gibberish, probably are just some random nonsense Jamesy Boy slapped together, and only gave them ‘proper’ titles so stuffy music journalists would look like bellends trying to write critical prose with Syro u473t8+e [Piezoluminescence Mix] as part of a sentence. Well, I ain’t falling for that, I tell you what.

Anyway, Syro is a good album from Aphex Twin.