Si Matthews - Tales Of Ten Worlds

Carpe Sonum Records: 2015

I feel like I’ve seen Si Matthews’ name all over the place these past couple years, but the interwebs suggests otherwise. He has scant presence with Lord Discogs, barely any mention with Last.fm, and a rather minimal amount of Soundcloud uploads. If we’re gauging based on musical output alone (which I typically do), he’s among the most obscure ambient techno artists currently out there. Yet I don’t get that sense from Mr. Matthews at all, not one bit. What gives?

Apparently Tales Of Ten Worlds has been floating around in some capacity for about a decade now, initially being sent to Fax +49-69/450464 as a demo. Given the label’s insane rate of output, I’ve no doubt many aspiring producers inspired by Pete Namlook’s seminal print sent him material for consideration. It’s somewhat surprising then, that Mr. Kaulmann passed on Si Matthews’ demo, though his reasoning was sound enough. FAX+, y’see, just wasn’t doing the sort of spacey, minimalist ambient techno as offered here anymore. Then again, no one was supporting this sound in the mid-‘00s, at least with any significant promotion behind them. It’d be at least another half-decade before the calling allure of old-school ambient techno started its retro return within scene discourse. That didn’t stop whispers circulating among FAX+ die-hards though, of a mint, vintage sounding album existing, one that could have been deemed a new classic if Papa Pete hadn’t passed on it. And while Tales Of Ten Worlds would still likely never have had a second chance with Namlook’s label (just not jazzy enough?), someone would probably have picked it up eventually if Mr. Matthews found the right print to give it a shot. Fortunately for Si, Carpe Sonum Records filled that need in branding itself as the spiritual successor to FAX+, including releasing music that adhered to the label’s ‘90s style. Enter ancient quote about patience being a virtue.

Obviously then, if you’ve a hankering for ambient techno of old, you’ll dig Tales Of Ten Worlds. This is some truly classic sounding stuff, the likes of which had mostly fallen out of style as the ‘90s wound down. In some ways, I’m not sure it’s significantly rebounded yet, but clearly there’s enough of a market now that this album ranked high among many Best Of Ambient lists for 2015. And deservedly so, synth pad melodies exploring the cosmic bizarre while grounding the listener with soft rhythms and ethereal sequencers. Some are mysterious and subtle in composition (World 1, World 3, World 5), others are more peppy and benign (World 2, World 8). There’s moody ten-plus minute long pieces (World 4, World 7), plus brief sonic doodles (World 6, World 10). And what ambient techno album would be complete without a melding of all this in World 9?

Maybe not the most detailed description above, but Tales Of Ten Worlds doesn’t require much. It’s a modest collection of uncomplicated tracks, with enough personality to stand distinct and unique in a contemporary scene. Top tales all told, then.

Laurent Garnier - Tales Of A Kleptomaniac (Original TC Review)

[PIAS] Recordings: 2009

(2016 Update:
You just had to make another dig at minimal, didn't you, 2009 Sykonee? Boy, does that quip ever date this review now - like, who gives a rat's poop about Luciano anymore? Meanwhile, Garnier's still here, doing his thing as he's always done, even releasing another album this past year. This reads a bit gushy to my current eyes, but its no less reverent than any number of fans and journo-folks who've put hundreds to thousands of words detailing the Frenchman's career and class.

Unfortunately for this album though, it hasn't gotten any easier of a listen as time's worn on. For all the care and skill Mr. Garnier put into these tracks, they create such an erratic listen with a traditional playthrough that it's difficult for anything to stick to the ol' memory membranes. Funny enough, Laurent mentioned shortly after releasing Tales Of A Kleptomaniac that he couldn't even stand listening to these tracks anymore, having spent so much time on them and all. Man, I know what that's like with some of my own writing, but I can definitely hear how some of this music's been micro-managed almost to a fault. Gotta' keep that muse fresh with new ideas, yo'.)


IN BRIEF: Does Garnier have anything left to prove?

No, don’t actually answer that rhetorical question; just ponder it for a moment. Then, once you’ve finished pondering, keep those thoughts to yourself. If you do that, then you might be able to dive into his new album, Tales Of A Kleptomaniac, without any of the ungodly expectations the Frenchman has become saddled with. Just accept the fact he likes to make music, and feel fortunate enough he’s successful enough to share that over-indulgent muse of his with you.

The simple fact of the matter is Garnier has established himself as the music-fan’s producer and DJ, thus has earned all the plaudits that comes with such respect; however, this also leaves his body of work incredibly daunting for the uninitiated, with very few clear-cut crossover singles to his name (The Man With The Red Face being the most obvious exception, especially recently). With a discography that is far from newbie-friendly, Garnier has been kept somewhat on the outskirts of top acts, even though he is a recognizable name. This new album isn’t likely to change that, which will probably suit his fanbse just fine. But, y’know, it’d be nice of him to, like, get the same kind of praise the Luciano Villalawtins of the world do, just once in a while, hm? Ah well.

So now that we’ve effectively frightened away the uninitiated, is there anything of interest for the Garnier connoisseur? You bet! In fact, there’s almost too much here. In being such a hoarder of musical styles, ol’ Laurent has assembled an incredibly eclectic collection of songs, such that I can’t see folks getting their vibe on to every track.

For instance, you may be totally down for more of his jazz-fusion techno-stomp, supplied here in the form of Gnanmankuodjii; but are you willing to go even deeper down the jazz tunnel, into an acid lounge with Garnier himself providing spoken dialogue in Dealing With The Man? Or perhaps you’re looking forward to some vintage dark trance vibes with Desirless that ol’ Laurent was known for way back in the day. That may sound good, but perhaps not the two hip-hop cuts - one with French lyrics, no less - if that isn’t your thing. Or maybe the thought of him doing dub reggae with Food For Thought makes you all giddy (*cough*); might you have the opposite reaction to Bourre Pif, a dabbling into drum’n’bass? Wait, what? That last one doesn’t make any sense. How could someone like one rhythm-heavy form of music but not another? Never mind that last one.

Getting back to the album, the point is there be a lot of musical variety on here, some of which may not be your cup of brie. However, it is all finely produced and enjoyable to those with at least a broad sense of taste -allow me to provide an example. Although I know it can be musical journalistic suicide to openly admit to not knowing much about a particular genre, I think you can all forgive me saying that I am quite clueless when it comes to French hip-hop - I've heard no more than half-a-dozen tunes in my life. Yet, despite not getting much out of Freeverse (Part 1) on an intellectual level, I still enjoy it on a ‘dumb’ level; that is, purely on what the music on hand offers. You get that sense of musical competence from Garnier on every cut here, and though you may not be compelled to suddenly start checking hundreds of French hip-hop acts out there, Garnier at least provides you with something that won’t have you quickly reaching for the skip button.

That said, there isn’t much on here that would convince one to check out these musical genres further either. Food For Thought is a great dub tune …for being on a Laurent Garnier album; fans of jazz-fusion, techno, and, yes, even French hip-hop would probably say similar things.

Tales Of A Kleptomaniac is another solid outing from Garnier, and the music’s far too good to give it anything lower than an 8. However, in allowing his muse to rob the kitchen of everything but the plumbing, it unfortunately lacks an elevating, crossover classic. The veteran Frenchman remains as daunting for the newbie as ever.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2009. © All rights reserved.

Mick Chillage - Tales From The Igloo Re-Told

Psychonavigation Records: 2014

While Oliver Lieb's Inside Voices introduced me to Psychonavigation Records, this was the album that got me digging further into the Dublin print's discography, though almost entirely by chance. If I’d sought out Inside Voices through my usual Amazon means, the Bandcamp option would never had exposed me to the rest of Psychonavigation’s recent catalogue. Doing a casual glance-over, I noticed a curiously cartoony looking item among the more credible pieces of cover art, sticking out like an ice-encrusted thumb. Despite never hearing the name Mick Chillage before, I dug a bit further into this oddball snowball of a CD called Tales From The Igloo Re-Told. Ah, a remix album then, with rubs from names like Gel-Sol, Lorenzo Montanà, Peter Benisch, Dialog, the New Composers... *record scratch*.

Waitwaitwait...! The Peter Benisch? That dude who made wonderful music at the turn of the century, then practically disappeared from Earth? What’s he doing on such an innocuous CD? Is this just a one-shot, some sort of curried favour for the label? Is this Mick Chillage guy a bigger deal than I could have thought? And what of the album-proper of Tales From The Igloo? Is it some masterstroke of modern chill-out music to have lured in so many highly respected names within this scene? I mean, Peter Benisch ain’t the only old-schooler on this remix project. David Morley’s here! Dr. Atmo’s here! Scanner’s here! Man, it didn’t matter that I’d never heard the original album, thus having absolutely no frame of reference for these ‘retold’ings – I had to get this just to hear what these chaps have been up to! Maybe discover a couple additional names in the process (that Gel-Sol, why he so familiar?).

My epic odyssey through Psychonavigation Records’ archives these past couple months have answered many of these questions. Without this CD enticing me though, there likely would never have been the label splurge, much less hundreds of words on my part chronicling all this music from the Dublin print. Well, maybe a few, just based on general consensus of essential albums from Psychonavigation.Tales From The Igloo-Prime was likely an eventuality - it does come highly recommended from most discerning ambient heads, after all.

Even without hearing the original album, Re-Told holds strong on its own merits. Mr. Chillage’s original compositions were already unfussy, so it isn’t much for our clutch of remixers to apply their own styles to the minute melodies Mick crafted. Morley, Montana, and New Composure do their ambient techno thing, while Benisch, Scanner, and Sense opt for something more on the widescreen tip. Dialog goes for a dubbier outing, Gel-Sol offers something abstract, and Dr. Atmo has old-school ambient house clear in his sights. Oh, and Mick indulges his full Biosphere on a lengthier rub on Hypothermia. All this diversity actually makes Tales From The Igloo Retold a stronger LP than the original album, though obviously defeats the simplistic charm Chillage had going on his debut. A yin-yang deal we got going here, then.

Mick Chillage - Tales From The Igloo

Psychonavigation Records: 2009

It took a while, but with Mick Chillage's debut album Tales From The Igloo, Psychonavigation Records could finally claim to have a bonafide hit on their hands. Well, about as a much of a hit a micro-niche scene such as throwback ambient techno could ever achieve, but it’s something. Prior to Tales, the Dublin print had remained quite underground and relatively unnoticed, mostly giving folks with close ties to the local scene their promotion. This was technically also the case with Mick Chillage, Mr. Gainford spending much of his early career as a radio DJ on Dublin’s XFM. Though he never released anything official, The Chillaged One did while those years producing an assortment of techno, downtempo, and ambient items that were probably never intended for more than nearby playouts.

For all intents, having a fruitful career in LPs wasn’t high on his mind, but that Keith Downey boy, he never met a fellow Irishman that he couldn’t woo to his label. One successful album later, and not only was Mick Chillage off and shopping to several like-minded labels, but Psychonavigation Records also started drawing in other established artists to their print as well, growing their profile in the process. Or it was all just one big coincidence things turned out like this.

At first glance, Tales From The Igloo doesn’t come off as anything terribly unique or remarkable. It’s a vintage ambient techno album released at a time when ambient techno was continuously distancing itself from its past. Much of the old guard of that scene had long moved onto other music, or simply retreated into seclusion. Though always pointing to the seminal works put out by Warp, Apollo, and Fax+ as a source of inspiration, the new cats preferred pushing the genre into the realms of dub techno and clicky glitch. If there was a market for old-school leaning ambient techno, it was buried deep in glacial stasis, waiting to be thawed out when fondness for such retro sounds could flourish again. Tales From The Igloo seems to have been the tipping point that started the thaw, Mick Chillage uncompromising in crafting simple, elegant pieces that had folks namedropping ancient Biosphere, HIA, and Aphex Twin in association.

Even within the limited palette Chillage utilizes, he offers a nice array of tunes. There’s soft, brisk techno (Dubmarine, Melting Emotion, Floating In Hyperspace, Northern Lights, Precinct 14), moody Nordic ambient numbers (Hypothermia, Disturbed Earth, eleven-minute long Gateway Station), a couple tunes that meet midpoint between the two (Hidden Landscape, Rotation), and the requisite curious outlier in Under The Ice, a track with rather abrasive beats considering the surrounding music.

Another quibble with this album is the wonky track sequencing, most of the beatless, chill material lodged in the middle rather than the more sensible bookends of the LP. I often find myself drifting off midway through because of this, forgetting there’s some decent uptempo tunes towards the end. Not quibble enough, however, to not recommend Tales From The Igloo.

Front Line Assembly - Tactical Neural Implant

Third Mind Records/Roadrunner Records: 1992/2007

The only Front Line Assembly album you're supposed to have, even if you're not a Front Line Assembly fan. Heck, some make the case Tactical Neural Implant is an essential LP in the industrial scene period, though that's a bit of a stretch. For sure the band that Bill Leeb built grew to be one of the most popular during the early ‘90s, but industrial reaches far with its assortment of Very Important People. At best Front Line Assembly helped lead the charge in the world of EBM, but even they were quick to move onto different explorations of their sound, eager to try something else with each album or side project. That can make for some difficulty in knowing which of the roughly dozen FLA albums is a good starting point, if I hadn't already said the answer is Tactical Neural Implant right at the start of this paragraph.

First off, this is where Leeb and Rhys Fulber really hit their stride as a unit, taking what they’d learned in their first producing outing on Caustic Grip and applying it to some serious songcraft muscle here. Industrial music has always been about manipulating sounds into garish, abrasive attacks on the senses, things like ‘melody’ or ‘earworms’ treated as musical conventions intended for parody. EBM, with its heavy focus on rhythms, lightened a little on such sonic perversions, but was no less cutting in this aesthetic. Tactical Neural Implant, on the other hand, generally sounds cleaner than earlier FLA albums, relying more on grinding, mechanical samples and menacing synths rather than harsh effects to sell its dystopian vision. A good thing too, otherwise the many, surprising melodic moments throughout this album wouldn’t be nearly as effective as musical counterpoints if they were equally muddied and full of murk.

For instance, melodies in songs Remorse and Outcast don’t sound too off from Leeb and Fulber’s Delerium work, to say nothing of melodramatic closer Lifeline. Sample lyrics: “In the shadow, An angel cries;... Innocence confused, By hate.” Part of my brain wants to lambast these words as hokey goth poetry, but damn if Leeb’s bellowing doesn’t get stuck in my head with me eager to hit the replay button.

Still, these are outliers compared to the other songs, where Leeb opts for the snarling EBM sneer (Final Impact, Bio-Mechanic, Outcast, Gun) or fierce industrial growl (Mindphaser). And that’s when you can hear his words at all, some tracks rendering them all but indecipherable with vocoder effects (The Blade). I personally love it when Leeb’s voice morphs though, as in Bio-Mechanic where it grows ever more vicious and robotic in the chorus. Talk of insidious earworms too, Mindphaser the biggest hit Front Line Assembly ever released – heck, they named their website after the song!

Tactical Neural Implant might be a smite too catchy for industrial purists to take seriously, but that just makes it a great entry point for folks looking to cut their teeth on EBM. A tactical neural implant indeed.

ACE TRACKS: February 2016

Oh my God, did February ever suck. Okay, there was that kick-ass Deadpool movie in there, plus d’em Golden State Warriors continue to astound in ways I never thought possible with NBA caliber basketball before, but in terms of getting significant work done with this blog, ugh what a slog. Never before have I been afflicted with flu aches/dizzying fever/curse of Cthulu symptoms like that, and I pray I never do again. That said, I did accomplish a couple things, one of which being an obvious fresh coat of template-paint here, hopefully making things a little easier on the eyes now. Also, I’ve added a couple Pages to the side-bar, one to keep all past and future ACE TRACKS playlists in an easy-access point, plus a FAQ for anyone still not up to speed on what this blog’s all about.

My main goal though (and thus far failure), is organize that gargantuan cloud of labels into something resembling a glossary or table of contents. Give folks easier navigation through the insurmountable back-catalog of reviews that’s accumulated, y’know? I’ve yet to find an easy fix for this though, and I’ve been told nothing short of a complete, ground-up redesign would accomplish what I want. *sigh* Am I gonna’ have to learn to actual code now, and not rely on templates? How was I to know things would get so big?


Full track list here.

MISSING ALBUMS:
Various - Summer
Various - Simulus
Ciaran Byrne - Nine Lives Causeway
Various - Montreal Mix Sessions Vol. 5 - Tiga: Mixed Emotions

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 0%
Percentage of Rock: 0%
Most “WTF?” Track: Nothing at all.

Hope y’all dig the Psychonavigation Records love-in here, as that’s practically the entirety of this playlist. Even the few albums outside the Dublin print mostly fall within a similar style of music. Thank God for Tiga bringing a tiny bit of variety here, but I thank God for Tiga about many things regardless. I'm kinda’ surprised this playlist’s as long as it is too – felt like I got through barely anything this past month, but at least this bulk of alphabetical backlog is finally caught up with. Finally get to move onto a brand new letter, with fresh genres and fresh labels! …including two more Psychonavigation CDs, and a Carpe Sonum CD within the first week.

*sigh* Y’know, I think I'm actually starting to look forward to that eventual review of Live's Throwing Copper.

Various - Summer

Altar Records: 2015

Feel that in the air? The warmth, the brisk breezes? Why, you could almost claim it summer now! What's that, everywhere east of Vancouver? You're still all cold and bitter and wretched and miserable? Sucks to be you then. Why, y'all could never listen to this CD from Altar Records so ludicrously out of season and appreciate it with appropriate weather beaming through the windows. True, we had to put up with some three-hundred million gallons of rain before getting to this balmy June-ish clime’ we're enjoying deep into February, but now that we do have it, our smugness knows no bounds or remorse. Still, DJ Zen better hurry up with the Winter edition of this compilation series, lest the window of season appropriate street dates pass by. Quebec may deal with snow all the way into July [citation needed], but officially winter’s done on March 21, less than a month away from the time I’m typing this. No pressure, yo’.

Summer is probably the most predictable of these Season CDs thus far, in that DJ Zen couldn’t help but gear his selection of tunes for the outdoor party vibe. The entire psy scene is practically predicated on flailing under warm, starry skies, on tropical beach fronts or in cool forests at night. You sure wouldn’t throw a psy party on an alpine glacier, is what I’m saying (though that’d be a pretty dope setting for a Biosphere concert). And while I’d applaud the Altar Records head if he took a musical gamble for this volume, there’s no thematic point in eschewing a sure thing like this. Summer is the psy-tranciest season of the year, so DJ Zen may as well give us the psy-tranciest CD out on Altar Records he can muster.

And the first few tracks promise as such. Groovy psy-chill is always a fine way to open a compilation of this sort, and Sudaya provides a scorcher of a track in Over The Edge, synths and pads soaring in from deep cosmic realms. It’s a bit on the hammy side, but so earnest in delivery it wins you over regardless. By cut three, we’re already in prog-psy’s uptempo realm, Elea’s Yãtrã getting its world beat vibes on with plenty o’ sitar action. A couple solid psy tunes after that from E-Mantra and Merlin, and then Summer plummets right off a cliff.

No, but really, I thought plodding numbers like Alwoods’ Blue Horizon had long been left to the monotonous era of minimalist dark psy fifteen years ago. And why is it over eleven minutes long? Hardly anything happens during that length, it doesn’t build to anything substantial, and we could have had two cool tracks instead for that amount of runtime. Even Iboga Records never got this monotonous. Much.

One bad track isn’t a deal-breaker for Summer, with AstroPilot, Abiogenesis, and Asura rounding out a decent enough finish. Given the strong start of this CD though, such a dud does leave an unfortunate aftertaste.

Various - Strange-Eyed Constellations

Disco Gecko: 2015

A little late to the compilation game, aren’t we, Mr. Marks? True, it’s only in recent years ol’ Toby’s started using his Disco Gecko print as something more than an outlet for all his Banco de Gaia back-catalog, but this market has grown incredibly niche since he got his break on similar CDs way back when. You could find fashionable ‘ambient collections’ with distinct themes on nearly every store shelf in ’92, but while there’s no drought for new material these days, you don’t see much consolidation of the music beyond label manifestos. Tobes mentions in this CD’s liner notes a long-gestating intent at doing something similar to the old Ambient Dub series though, so better late than never?

Still, Strange-Eyed Constellations doesn’t have much concept behind it other than being a gathering of musicians and music that Mr. Marks fancies. This ranges from long-time compatriots like Andy Guthrie and James Eller, more recent associates like AstroPilot, Dr. Trippy, Temple Hedz, and Andrew Heath, plus inclusions from completely new-to-Discogs names like Project Transmissions and Oombata Key. Now that’s how you diversify a compilation: lure ‘em in with the familiar, exposing the overlooked in the process. Toby’s done his research here.

As we’re dealing with the man behind Banco de Gaia, Strange-Eyed Constellations obviously features a lot of ethnic-fusion sort of music. Hah, no, Marks has evolved some since those Last Train To Lhasa days, going far more ambient and musically abstract than cribbing a few worldly chants and slapping a dance beat underneath. AstroPilot’s opener Dum Spíro, Spéro does the space ambient thing, with the next clutch of tracks going rather ethereal. A song titled Sirens Of Lorelei, yeah, I’d be rather disappointed if I wasn’t getting the Wiccan vibe on, and that carries through Radium88’s The Future’s Bright, The Future’s Incandescent.

The middle of the compilation (stop thinking Starry-Eyed Sunrise, dammit), gets more to the ethnical influences, though are mostly subdued offerings of world music, much less ‘beat’ despite the nods to dubbier production about. Makes sense, given Marks’ longtime aversion to the term ‘world beat’ in the first place, and he doesn’t hesitate in throwing in a couple curveballs along the way (James Eller’s It’s Beautiful Mike, It Really Is is a dead-ringer for classic Pink Floyd). Dimensions from Temple Hedz is closer to the contemporary Banco mold, though given the two tracks Marks offers himself, what even is the Banco sound anymore? To The Nth Degree sounds like an amalgamation of Andrew Heath, AstroPilot, and Floyd, while Falling Tides under his own name sees ol’ Toby going full Heath for himself. Not to be outdone, Andrew closes the compilation out with a bit of planetarium piano doodling in Epiphany. Much lovely, ‘tis.

Strange-Eyed Constellations has a few fluffy, forgettable moments, with some tracks blending indistinguishably between others, but it’s definitely all in the Disco Gecko mold. If you figured Marks’ label was nothing but Banco de Gaia retreads, this compilation provides a proper ear opener.

Seán Quinn - Skylines

Psychonavigation Records: 2002

You know you always get the clean, uncut sparkling varnished honesty from me, right? Sure you do, that’s why you’re always coming back here. I think. That whole ‘consistent new reviews’ also may have something to do with it. I’d imagine my thoughts on music have garnered some small repute at this stage too. Maybe it’s just to indulge in this ‘gimmick’ o’ mine, to see what item alphabetically pops up next in my mad quest to listen to everything I have. Gotta’ admit that’s why I keep hoping Sarah O’Holla returns to her similar endeavor at My Husband’s Stupid Record Collection, genuine curiosity over whether some obscure 1982 post no-wave punk 7” might crop up next, or one of the big guns I love reading other people’s opinions on (so long to go before Neil Young …so very long). Wait, I’ve gone way off topic here. Darn feverish state of mind - will this flu ever let up?

Here’s the truthiful proclamation I was trying to get at: initial impressions of a lot o’ these Psychonavigation Records records kinda’ bled altogether into one fuzzy-photo of cover art. I get that it’s a visual aesthetic the label cultivated for itself (because Boards), but when one binge-buys a back-catalog as I did, it makes distinguishing between CDs difficult, especially when dealing with almost entirely new names. There’s little chance at taking each in on their own merits, digesting their nuances before moving onto the next in the pile in some slim hopes a crash session can give you some lasting impressions. I couldn’t tell the Seán Quinns from the Ciaran Byrnes, the Skylines from the Picnics With Pylons, the Boards Of Canada sounding tunes from the other Boards Of Canada sounding tunes. Getting down to write a review of each these CDs definitely helped me in distinguishing between them, if nothing else for discovering more info behind the artists involved.

For instance, Seán Quinn was yet another big ol’ blank when I first got this CD, and remained as such despite listening to it a couple times, the music getting lost among all the other Psychonavigation material I drowned myself in. Turns out though, he’s done little solo LPing anyway, this and a recent Audiobiography his only albums. On the other hand, Lord Discogs tells me he’s part of the electro-pop duo Tiny Magnetic Pets (who’d also released on Psychonavigation), which I feel I should know from somewhere, but could be getting mixed up with a similar sounding band (ergh, it’s buggin’ me!).

Another reason Skylines had trouble sinking in is it’s all over the place. There are skitzy beats, abstract ambient, twee pop, mellow Boards nods (of course), and not much linking it together. Imbrium is the sort of grand space ambient I’d expect out of Ultimae, while Yellow Magnetic wants to have its orchestral breakcore and eat DJ Food too. Wait, what? Okay, the fever’s setting in again. Better wrap this up now.

Various - Simulus

Psychonavigation Records: 2002

We’re going way back in Psychonavigation’s history with this one, folks. Back to the time before they earned much rep’ outside their native Dublin. Before the change when they focused primarily on artist albums. The years when their chief output was the compilation. An era where vinyl was still on their market! The age after the oceans drank Atlantis and before the rise of the sons of Aryas; the days of high adventure! No, wait, that's too far. Pretty sure this label's of a more recent era than when Conan The Barbarian was lopping heads aplenty. The beginning of Americanaland’s end, yeah, that'll do.

Having taken in all these Psychonavigation albums now, I feel I’ve gotten a decent bead on who’s their main acts, who’s their outside contributors, and so on. I look at the track list for Simulus though, and I’m drawing a blank on nearly everyone here. Move D shows up, taking some time away from his hundred-zillionth session with Pete Namlook to provide a jazzy, smoky, blues-hop number in Downtime. A few other names on Simulus have a decent amount of Discogian presence. The Rip-Off Artist released some eight LPs in a very short amount of time in the early ‘00s, with the man behind the name, Matt Haines, working with about a half-dozen other aliases before and since too. A couple others, like The Last Sound and EU, have continued releasing material to this day, though on various different labels than Psychonavigation. Names like Matthew Devereux and Manta even got albums out on this print shortly after. Mostly though, we’re dealing with artists that had a few items out around the time this compilation was released, and promptly disappeared shortly after from all Lord Discogs’ records. Except for Undermine, I have no idea what their story is, the Discogian link directing me to an American hardcore punk band from the early ‘90s. Psychonavigation’s done a few dalliances in its genre explorations, but I’m pretty darn sure Keith Downey’s never been tempted to go that route.

Instead, Simulus is another CD that supports my association of Psychonavigation with Shadow Records, in that this is one seriously trip-hoppin’ collection of tunes. For sure we get a few glitch IDM cuts too, such as Mantra’s click-n-bass Endent, The Rip-Off Artist’s bleep-hop Thief Of Hearts, and The Last Sound’s neurofunky Life Flashes, though that’s served as a specific segment showcasing such sounds. In fact, Simulus is separated into four such distinct parts, each with a brief intermission called Got That? marking the transition. Makes more sense for the vinyl version I guess, but it’s cool to hear some concept being applied to a compilation regardless.

Mostly though, the tunes on Simulus do that turn of the century trip-hop thing a lot of labels were doing in Ninja Tune’s wake, with spicy splashes of other genres for good measure - breaks in The Turner Experience from Dan Warren, ambient techno in Winter from EU. An interesting CD, all said.