Cryo Chamber: 2015
Now wait just a darn minute! Didn’t I miss my chance on this triple-disc collection, that when I stopped over at the label’s Bandcamp, the site claimed they were sold out? Indeed they had, and I rested easy in accepting that star-cruiser having sailed, missing on owning another chapter in the Sabled Sun saga. It’s not like I couldn’t hear any of these hour-long drone pieces through a streaming service. And besides, the Signals pieces aren’t even part of the main narrative Simon Heath’s crafted with the project; rather like side-stories, or appendices, or bonus features, or- no, wait, all this cinematic dark ambient isn’t literal cinema on DVD.
In a move I hadn’t counted on, Cryo Chamber replenish their stock, including another round of Signals IV-V-VI. This shouldn’t come as that big a deal, but considering so many online prints have very limited runs of their physical releases, you’d forgive me for thinking this label would be the same. It actually stuns me that dub techno labels are so comparatively skint, what with how much critical love they receive from all the Very Important electronic music rags. I always figured dark ambient a super-niche scene, but I suppose there’s some crossover from the underground metal ranks, and that’s anything but small, believe you me.
From the outset its clear Mr. Heath was aiming for a different take in this second trilogy of Signals. The first three were quite distinct from one another, but the stark, dead-in-space artwork helped maintain a linking connection within the concept. This next bundle offers something sunnier; in fact about a billion times so. Are we dealing with the same planet, because that’s an astounding number of stars featured in the cover art compared to the previous set of Signals. Looks like we’re hovering somewhere near a globular cluster rather than some outflung back-spur of the galaxy. I wonder if this is a region those signals from the first three were directed. Was that even the impression I was meant to get from those hour-long compositions? Drone can be so very vague at times. Right, most times.
On the surface, there isn’t much difference between Signals IV, V, and VI. All three feature similar atonal space drone dominating nearly every audible wavelength you can imagine, but in a way that’s not crushing on your senses. Signals IV has a fuzzy run of static throughout, eventually joined by intermittent chirping frequencies piercing the empty void. Signals V has more of a journey going for it, the droning tones occasionally receding as though the cosmos is inhaling before carrying on its never-ending symphony of non-sound. It even changes in timbre during its course, and if you listen carefully enough, one can hear the distinct whine of radio transmissions desperately trying to be heard. Signals VI is just unrelenting suffocating drone for its full hour, barely a change in- wait, what was that signal at the tail end? No, wait, come back! Oh dear, we’ve lost it…
Wednesday, June 15, 2016
Tuesday, June 14, 2016
Live - Secret Samadhi
Radioactive: 1997
Oh my God, I’m actually starting to like Live. Now I feel bad for every lame, clichéd punch-line I’ve ever delivered in their direction. You know how they typically go: “that band that everyone loved but can’t remember any reason why”; or “you know you’re from the ‘90s if you have Throwing Copper among your CDs”; or “oh yeah, Live, they had that big hit December, right? Or was that Push?” (sorry, Canadian joke). Maybe it’s because I never realized they shared so many similarities to national treasures The Tragically Hip, though it’s not like I delved deeply into their discography either. And even when I took on Throwing Copper, it essentially confirmed what I always felt Live was: a solid enough alternative rock band, fully deserving of their success but not one I thought capable of exceeding that commercial peak.
And Secret Samadhi oblitera- no, not quite; forced a reassessment of my initial assumptions, yes let’s go with that. I figured Live’s third album would carry on from Throwing Copper, the band daring not to mess with the sure thing they’d generated for themselves. I’m sure tons of folks figured that too, the record hitting top of the Billboard before being unceremoniously knocked out a week after by the Howard Stern movie soundtrack. Perhaps it couldn’t be helped, their breakout record one of the slowest burners the world of rock had ever seen. Whatever enthusiasm folks had for Live in those glorious mid-‘90s times would have waned as other new hotness emerged. But hey, Secret Samadhi did knock No Doubt’s Tragic Kingdom from its long perch atop Canadian charts, so good on that.
Generally speaking, Secret Samadhi is more of the same Live stylee, but evolving just enough for a stronger outing than before. Yes, I feel this record is better than Throwing Copper, delving into ‘post-grunge’ form without getting too slick about it, nicely selling a ‘bar band with a budget’ vibe. Sure, there’s an orchestra backing a couple tracks, and they have plenty studio polish at their disposal, but nothing is overdone or varnished into blandness as so much mega-selling rock of the ‘90s goes. Despite their continued stadium success abroad, I could totally see Live playing live at the local dive bar. No, that’s a good thing! Though I don’t actively seek it out, I’m still a sucker for bluesy, alternative rock, where tales of common folk struggles are told with not a hint of preaching or sanctimonious condemnation. Even with Kowlaczyk interjecting headier concepts of spiritualism and mysticism this time out, Live still remain grounded in how they present themselves. For a chap that will likely never lose his small town sensibility (I keep trying!), this remains most appealing.
While I’m almost certain this ends my forays into Live’s discography, I must admit coming away from both Throwing Copper and Secret Samadhi more appreciative of the band than I ever thought possible. And will someone help out their Wiki pages? Dear God, it’s disgraceful.
Oh my God, I’m actually starting to like Live. Now I feel bad for every lame, clichéd punch-line I’ve ever delivered in their direction. You know how they typically go: “that band that everyone loved but can’t remember any reason why”; or “you know you’re from the ‘90s if you have Throwing Copper among your CDs”; or “oh yeah, Live, they had that big hit December, right? Or was that Push?” (sorry, Canadian joke). Maybe it’s because I never realized they shared so many similarities to national treasures The Tragically Hip, though it’s not like I delved deeply into their discography either. And even when I took on Throwing Copper, it essentially confirmed what I always felt Live was: a solid enough alternative rock band, fully deserving of their success but not one I thought capable of exceeding that commercial peak.
And Secret Samadhi oblitera- no, not quite; forced a reassessment of my initial assumptions, yes let’s go with that. I figured Live’s third album would carry on from Throwing Copper, the band daring not to mess with the sure thing they’d generated for themselves. I’m sure tons of folks figured that too, the record hitting top of the Billboard before being unceremoniously knocked out a week after by the Howard Stern movie soundtrack. Perhaps it couldn’t be helped, their breakout record one of the slowest burners the world of rock had ever seen. Whatever enthusiasm folks had for Live in those glorious mid-‘90s times would have waned as other new hotness emerged. But hey, Secret Samadhi did knock No Doubt’s Tragic Kingdom from its long perch atop Canadian charts, so good on that.
Generally speaking, Secret Samadhi is more of the same Live stylee, but evolving just enough for a stronger outing than before. Yes, I feel this record is better than Throwing Copper, delving into ‘post-grunge’ form without getting too slick about it, nicely selling a ‘bar band with a budget’ vibe. Sure, there’s an orchestra backing a couple tracks, and they have plenty studio polish at their disposal, but nothing is overdone or varnished into blandness as so much mega-selling rock of the ‘90s goes. Despite their continued stadium success abroad, I could totally see Live playing live at the local dive bar. No, that’s a good thing! Though I don’t actively seek it out, I’m still a sucker for bluesy, alternative rock, where tales of common folk struggles are told with not a hint of preaching or sanctimonious condemnation. Even with Kowlaczyk interjecting headier concepts of spiritualism and mysticism this time out, Live still remain grounded in how they present themselves. For a chap that will likely never lose his small town sensibility (I keep trying!), this remains most appealing.
While I’m almost certain this ends my forays into Live’s discography, I must admit coming away from both Throwing Copper and Secret Samadhi more appreciative of the band than I ever thought possible. And will someone help out their Wiki pages? Dear God, it’s disgraceful.
Labels:
1997,
album,
alternative rock,
grunge,
Live,
Radioactive
Monday, June 13, 2016
Jonny L - Sawtooth
XL Recordings: 1997
Some days, you just need that drum’n’bass hit. Seeing the multitude of memes declaring this biological fact as gospel, I know I’m not alone in this sentiment, though my cravings don’t run as deep as some junglists go. However, it’s enough that every so often I must pick up some proper rudeness for my brain’s rhythm centers, a prospect that’s not as easy as it once t’was. For sure it’s simple enough finding any ol’ DJ set or label rinseout online, but I gotta’ sate that collector’s itch too, and finding good d’n’b albums is always a tricky proposition, especially when one wanders back to the ‘90s for their fix. Some are too damn obvious (Goldie, Roni Size) or too damn expensive (Logical Progression), but with a little digging, something unexpected can surface.
Not that Jonny L is an unknown entity, but I never pegged him an album guy. Like most d’n’b producers, he made his living on the singles market, signing early to XL Recordings way back when he was still making rave hardcore. As with many, he moved into jungle’s domain, navigating the scene’s numerous splintering roads with remarkable ease. There’s an atmospheric style out there now? Here’s a pair of future classics in Tychonic Cycle and I Let U then. And that emergent tech-step vibe one Grooverider was champion-sounding? Jonny L became one of the genre’s leaders, tracks like Piper, S4, and Wish U Had Something among the earliest anthems spit out. His style was something of a bridge between the darkcore ruffness of the older days, and the precision production of Photek’s work, leading to tracks that hit in hard bursts as different drum patterns rotated in and out. Also, heavy sci-fi influences, dragging the junglists out of the grimy London warehouses and into, um, grimy warehouses on Mars. Can you step to these Martian moves?
I knew all this prior to hearing Jonny L’s debut LP, Sawtooth, as I heard most of these songs elsewhere. In fact, I have at least half the tracks here on other CDs (including Treading) hence why I figured Mr. Lisners more an EP guy. I never considered his first album had been raided for so many tunes! Does this make Sawtooth an unheralded classic the likes we should prop up every chance given?
Ah, not quite. For a ‘90s d’n’b album, it’s solid enough, though if you don’t fancy the tech-step stylee, there isn’t much else to vibe on here. For sure the two atmospheric cuts are mint, and ol’ Jonny throws a single swerve in mid-track Detroit, a tune that clearly wants to be an old-school electro homage, but comes out sounding like technobass instead. Wait, that’s awesome! Other tracks like Moving Thru Air, Two Of Us and Obedience stick to the tech-step sound, good tracks in of themselves though a little redundant when taking in Sawtooth as a whole. Yeah, about as cliché a d’n’b album nitpick as it gets, that one.
Some days, you just need that drum’n’bass hit. Seeing the multitude of memes declaring this biological fact as gospel, I know I’m not alone in this sentiment, though my cravings don’t run as deep as some junglists go. However, it’s enough that every so often I must pick up some proper rudeness for my brain’s rhythm centers, a prospect that’s not as easy as it once t’was. For sure it’s simple enough finding any ol’ DJ set or label rinseout online, but I gotta’ sate that collector’s itch too, and finding good d’n’b albums is always a tricky proposition, especially when one wanders back to the ‘90s for their fix. Some are too damn obvious (Goldie, Roni Size) or too damn expensive (Logical Progression), but with a little digging, something unexpected can surface.
Not that Jonny L is an unknown entity, but I never pegged him an album guy. Like most d’n’b producers, he made his living on the singles market, signing early to XL Recordings way back when he was still making rave hardcore. As with many, he moved into jungle’s domain, navigating the scene’s numerous splintering roads with remarkable ease. There’s an atmospheric style out there now? Here’s a pair of future classics in Tychonic Cycle and I Let U then. And that emergent tech-step vibe one Grooverider was champion-sounding? Jonny L became one of the genre’s leaders, tracks like Piper, S4, and Wish U Had Something among the earliest anthems spit out. His style was something of a bridge between the darkcore ruffness of the older days, and the precision production of Photek’s work, leading to tracks that hit in hard bursts as different drum patterns rotated in and out. Also, heavy sci-fi influences, dragging the junglists out of the grimy London warehouses and into, um, grimy warehouses on Mars. Can you step to these Martian moves?
I knew all this prior to hearing Jonny L’s debut LP, Sawtooth, as I heard most of these songs elsewhere. In fact, I have at least half the tracks here on other CDs (including Treading) hence why I figured Mr. Lisners more an EP guy. I never considered his first album had been raided for so many tunes! Does this make Sawtooth an unheralded classic the likes we should prop up every chance given?
Ah, not quite. For a ‘90s d’n’b album, it’s solid enough, though if you don’t fancy the tech-step stylee, there isn’t much else to vibe on here. For sure the two atmospheric cuts are mint, and ol’ Jonny throws a single swerve in mid-track Detroit, a tune that clearly wants to be an old-school electro homage, but comes out sounding like technobass instead. Wait, that’s awesome! Other tracks like Moving Thru Air, Two Of Us and Obedience stick to the tech-step sound, good tracks in of themselves though a little redundant when taking in Sawtooth as a whole. Yeah, about as cliché a d’n’b album nitpick as it gets, that one.
Sunday, June 12, 2016
Coldplay - A Rush Of Blood To The Head
Parlaphone: 2002
I suppose if you’re gonna’ have any Coldplay album, it may as well be this one. It’s stronger than their debut, wherein the band members’ quick success had provided plenty confidence in their song-writing. It’s also still early in their career, before all the pretentious waffle that came associated with the band emerged, their sound fresh in the minds of everyone coming within earshot of Clocks and In My Place. It’s definitely the best-selling of Coldplay’s albums, earning over twenty-million sales globally, despite not even hitting the number one spot in America. Thanks to its ultra-success, nearly every album since A Rush Of Blood To The Head debuted on top of charts the world over, the streak finally ending with last year’s A Head Full Of Dreams.
And just what gave Coldplay’s sophomore effort such undeniable fame, fortune, plaudits, and popularity? Eh, I’m not the guy to psycho-analyze this. Given its never-ending placement in “Best Ever Rock Albums” lists, not to mention the massive market penetration, more than enough folks have provided in-depth insight into what made this album ‘work’. I’ve only given the band passive interest over the years, their ubiquitous presence upon radios abroad sating whatever Coldplay need I ever had. Nearly did pick up that X&Y album though, what with promo hype promising inspiration from electronic music past; impossibly, eye-catching cover art didn’t hurt either, luring me in as fuzzy Lepidoptera to flame.
Talk about A Rush Of Blood To The Head I must though, and my stunning conclusion of this album is… yeah, it’s a nice listen. Not shattering any narratives here, my friends. Coldplay have that sweet middle ground of pop sensibilities while presenting themselves with enough earnest songcraft that you can’t fault them on any basic musical level. The melodies fill a room as pleasant background fluff, have enough substance to lure you in for a closer listen, and never wander too far off the path of familiarity. It’s the sound everyone figured Radiohead would have made if that band had only explored their inner U2 capabilities rather than go full-on Pink Floyd. In other words, exactly the music most magazines are quick to heap praise upon, radios are quick to flood the airwaves with, and folks were eager to own in their still-practical CD collections. Fair play to Coldplay in filling that apparent gaping void, though it cannot be denied hearing In My Place every week for the past decade is too damn much for any sane person.
I don’t know what else to say about A Rush Of Blood To The Head - today’s events are kinda’ distracting. I’ve read speculation attributing the album’s success to the aftershock of the 9/11 terrorist attacks, a calming musical journey that also provided a sense of motivated urgency in how people should proceed. While playing this on a day like today, reading of innocent people falling to yet another senseless, preventable tragedy, that theory was definitely put into practice for yours truly. Rest well.
I suppose if you’re gonna’ have any Coldplay album, it may as well be this one. It’s stronger than their debut, wherein the band members’ quick success had provided plenty confidence in their song-writing. It’s also still early in their career, before all the pretentious waffle that came associated with the band emerged, their sound fresh in the minds of everyone coming within earshot of Clocks and In My Place. It’s definitely the best-selling of Coldplay’s albums, earning over twenty-million sales globally, despite not even hitting the number one spot in America. Thanks to its ultra-success, nearly every album since A Rush Of Blood To The Head debuted on top of charts the world over, the streak finally ending with last year’s A Head Full Of Dreams.
And just what gave Coldplay’s sophomore effort such undeniable fame, fortune, plaudits, and popularity? Eh, I’m not the guy to psycho-analyze this. Given its never-ending placement in “Best Ever Rock Albums” lists, not to mention the massive market penetration, more than enough folks have provided in-depth insight into what made this album ‘work’. I’ve only given the band passive interest over the years, their ubiquitous presence upon radios abroad sating whatever Coldplay need I ever had. Nearly did pick up that X&Y album though, what with promo hype promising inspiration from electronic music past; impossibly, eye-catching cover art didn’t hurt either, luring me in as fuzzy Lepidoptera to flame.
Talk about A Rush Of Blood To The Head I must though, and my stunning conclusion of this album is… yeah, it’s a nice listen. Not shattering any narratives here, my friends. Coldplay have that sweet middle ground of pop sensibilities while presenting themselves with enough earnest songcraft that you can’t fault them on any basic musical level. The melodies fill a room as pleasant background fluff, have enough substance to lure you in for a closer listen, and never wander too far off the path of familiarity. It’s the sound everyone figured Radiohead would have made if that band had only explored their inner U2 capabilities rather than go full-on Pink Floyd. In other words, exactly the music most magazines are quick to heap praise upon, radios are quick to flood the airwaves with, and folks were eager to own in their still-practical CD collections. Fair play to Coldplay in filling that apparent gaping void, though it cannot be denied hearing In My Place every week for the past decade is too damn much for any sane person.
I don’t know what else to say about A Rush Of Blood To The Head - today’s events are kinda’ distracting. I’ve read speculation attributing the album’s success to the aftershock of the 9/11 terrorist attacks, a calming musical journey that also provided a sense of motivated urgency in how people should proceed. While playing this on a day like today, reading of innocent people falling to yet another senseless, preventable tragedy, that theory was definitely put into practice for yours truly. Rest well.
Labels:
2002,
acoustic,
album,
alternative rock,
Coldplay,
Parlaphone,
pop
Friday, June 10, 2016
Feist - The Reminder
Arts & Crafts: 2007
I want to claim I heard of Feist before she got popular, but I’m not certain how accurate that is. Right, there’s almost no way I heard her before this album came out, though she wasn’t ultra-obscure by any means. Folks clued in with the Canadian indie rock scene would have likely had some contact with her contributions to Broken Social Scene, and her 2004 album Let It Die somehow did better overseas compared to her homeland, successful enough to warrant a remix album. None of which came within radar of my musical interests in the mid-‘00s, mind, but along came a noisy boyzie making a debut of his own that included a bonus remix of Feist’s latest single of My Moon My Man. Aww, yeah, I know you got that gnarly robot chorus in your head now. Go on, sing it: “My moon my man, my moon my man, my moon my man, my moon my man, yyeahyyeahyyeahyeahh!”
I didn’t hear that version until Boys Noize’s album came out later in 2007 though, and Feist’s The Reminder hit the streets earlier that year. Given this was the record that gave her all the plaudits, award nominations, sales, and newfound fans, that must mean I had to have come to the Feist train late. Yet her fame didn’t really take off until the follow-up single, 1234, came out, and paired with an iPod Nano commercial at that. Hoo boy, talk of a marketing coup, propelling her into the spotlight in one fell swoop. That ‘Colbert Bump’ the following year didn’t hurt either. But… when did the commercial come out? I don’t even remember it, though I tend to block out almost anything Apple ad related anyway. Too much manufactured hip for me, thanks. Besides, it’s I Feel It All that I swear had all the licensing offered, the tune ubiquitous everywhere I went the next couple years.
Anyhow, The Reminder introduced many folks to Feist’s singer-songwriting stylee, giving us a smorgasbord of her various muses. There’s wispy acoustic-folkie material (So Sorry, The Park, Intuition), peppy big-band pop (My Moon My Man, 1234, Sealion), jangly indie rock (I Feel It All, Past In Present) and a bunch of other stuff I’m having difficulty easily stuffing into tidy pigeon-holes. The Limit To Your Love sounds like jazz-blues, Brandy Alexander coffee-shop R&B, and Honey Honey… shoegaze ethereal baroque? Cool, is what it is. Let’s go with that.
All the dynamic genre hopping would amount to mud if Feist didn’t have such a unique voice though. Many scribes of the indie world have given better (and tediously exhaustive) descriptors of how she can sound at once pronounced and strong, yet frail and broken. Her popularity was also helped along by a Canadian media that, like its rappers, must always have exactly One (1) homegrown female singer-songwriter to rave about - Joni Mitchell, Sarah McLachlan, Alanis Morissette, etc. – and the opening was there for Feist to take the reins. Or it was just one big coincidence.
I want to claim I heard of Feist before she got popular, but I’m not certain how accurate that is. Right, there’s almost no way I heard her before this album came out, though she wasn’t ultra-obscure by any means. Folks clued in with the Canadian indie rock scene would have likely had some contact with her contributions to Broken Social Scene, and her 2004 album Let It Die somehow did better overseas compared to her homeland, successful enough to warrant a remix album. None of which came within radar of my musical interests in the mid-‘00s, mind, but along came a noisy boyzie making a debut of his own that included a bonus remix of Feist’s latest single of My Moon My Man. Aww, yeah, I know you got that gnarly robot chorus in your head now. Go on, sing it: “My moon my man, my moon my man, my moon my man, my moon my man, yyeahyyeahyyeahyeahh!”
I didn’t hear that version until Boys Noize’s album came out later in 2007 though, and Feist’s The Reminder hit the streets earlier that year. Given this was the record that gave her all the plaudits, award nominations, sales, and newfound fans, that must mean I had to have come to the Feist train late. Yet her fame didn’t really take off until the follow-up single, 1234, came out, and paired with an iPod Nano commercial at that. Hoo boy, talk of a marketing coup, propelling her into the spotlight in one fell swoop. That ‘Colbert Bump’ the following year didn’t hurt either. But… when did the commercial come out? I don’t even remember it, though I tend to block out almost anything Apple ad related anyway. Too much manufactured hip for me, thanks. Besides, it’s I Feel It All that I swear had all the licensing offered, the tune ubiquitous everywhere I went the next couple years.
Anyhow, The Reminder introduced many folks to Feist’s singer-songwriting stylee, giving us a smorgasbord of her various muses. There’s wispy acoustic-folkie material (So Sorry, The Park, Intuition), peppy big-band pop (My Moon My Man, 1234, Sealion), jangly indie rock (I Feel It All, Past In Present) and a bunch of other stuff I’m having difficulty easily stuffing into tidy pigeon-holes. The Limit To Your Love sounds like jazz-blues, Brandy Alexander coffee-shop R&B, and Honey Honey… shoegaze ethereal baroque? Cool, is what it is. Let’s go with that.
All the dynamic genre hopping would amount to mud if Feist didn’t have such a unique voice though. Many scribes of the indie world have given better (and tediously exhaustive) descriptors of how she can sound at once pronounced and strong, yet frail and broken. Her popularity was also helped along by a Canadian media that, like its rappers, must always have exactly One (1) homegrown female singer-songwriter to rave about - Joni Mitchell, Sarah McLachlan, Alanis Morissette, etc. – and the opening was there for Feist to take the reins. Or it was just one big coincidence.
Labels:
2007,
album,
Arts & Crafts,
Feist,
folk,
indie rock,
jazz dance
Thursday, June 9, 2016
SiJ & Textere Oris - Reflections Under The Sky
Cryo Chamber: 2016
Many of these Cryo Chamber CDs I’m reviewing were procured thanks to the label’s spiffy bulk deals, but not this one. With Reflections Under The Sky, I snatched that up the moment it was announced, getting my hardcopy right off the factory line. Was it because I was a die-hard fan of one SiJ or Textere Oris? Had I been so completely won over by Cryo Chamber’s dark oeuvre that I simply had to shell out for every new release? Ah, not quite the case.
Way back when I started the splurge, a couple of items that interested me were already sold out: Ugasanie’s Call Of The North, and Sabled Sun’s Signals IV-V-VI. With everything under Simon Heath’s sci-fi saga deemed ‘must hear’ for yours truly, I was gutted that I’d be left without a hardcopy of the continuing Signals series. It also got me thinking that, as with most labels now, their CDs were still a limited run offer, and that I shouldn’t dwell on anything Cryo Chamber puts out if it looks promising. And besides, even if it doesn’t turn out all that I’d hoped for, they’d at least become quick collector’s items like so many Ultimae or Silent Season CDs, right? Well, maybe not.
So my impetus in getting Reflections Under The Sky had a smidge of Collector Investment impurity to it. Once I actually played the CD though, I realized I could never part with it, this album such a swirl of dubby sounds and reflective sentiments, I couldn’t believe it wasn’t something from Silent Season instead. Still, Cryo Chamber’s generated their share of moody melancholic material before, with SiJ and Textere Oris sparing no expense in presenting a unique brand of picturesque societal decay. There’s plenty of droning ambient, but it’s not always as bleak as the dark proponents go. Its equal parts calm and soothing, as though we’re being gently laid to rest for an eternal slumber. And through it all are ample minimalist field recordings that Andrew Heath would swoon over: falling rain, chirping birds, insects, creaking buildings, wind chimes, and… a tea kettle reaching boiling?
Apparently this is the sort of music SiJ (Vladislav Sikach to the Ukrainian Musician’s Guild) dabbles in, making use of any and all instruments at his disposal. This includes guitars, drums, toy pianos, and even homemade machines, much of which was used to explore noisier abstractions and experiments. He’s definitely had plenty opportunity, some forty LPs released across several netlabels this past half decade. Lord Discogs has less info on Textere Oris, one Ilya Fursov of Moscow, but he provides additional field recordings, synths, and the final mixdown. Aw, Simon Heath left out in the cold on this one.
Yeah, that’s what it feels like listening to Reflections Under The Sky: wrapped up in a parka while surveying an old European winter village, just barely hanging on as a testament to civilizations past. It’s at once lovely and immersive, yet a chilling reminder that nothing lasts.
Many of these Cryo Chamber CDs I’m reviewing were procured thanks to the label’s spiffy bulk deals, but not this one. With Reflections Under The Sky, I snatched that up the moment it was announced, getting my hardcopy right off the factory line. Was it because I was a die-hard fan of one SiJ or Textere Oris? Had I been so completely won over by Cryo Chamber’s dark oeuvre that I simply had to shell out for every new release? Ah, not quite the case.
Way back when I started the splurge, a couple of items that interested me were already sold out: Ugasanie’s Call Of The North, and Sabled Sun’s Signals IV-V-VI. With everything under Simon Heath’s sci-fi saga deemed ‘must hear’ for yours truly, I was gutted that I’d be left without a hardcopy of the continuing Signals series. It also got me thinking that, as with most labels now, their CDs were still a limited run offer, and that I shouldn’t dwell on anything Cryo Chamber puts out if it looks promising. And besides, even if it doesn’t turn out all that I’d hoped for, they’d at least become quick collector’s items like so many Ultimae or Silent Season CDs, right? Well, maybe not.
So my impetus in getting Reflections Under The Sky had a smidge of Collector Investment impurity to it. Once I actually played the CD though, I realized I could never part with it, this album such a swirl of dubby sounds and reflective sentiments, I couldn’t believe it wasn’t something from Silent Season instead. Still, Cryo Chamber’s generated their share of moody melancholic material before, with SiJ and Textere Oris sparing no expense in presenting a unique brand of picturesque societal decay. There’s plenty of droning ambient, but it’s not always as bleak as the dark proponents go. Its equal parts calm and soothing, as though we’re being gently laid to rest for an eternal slumber. And through it all are ample minimalist field recordings that Andrew Heath would swoon over: falling rain, chirping birds, insects, creaking buildings, wind chimes, and… a tea kettle reaching boiling?
Apparently this is the sort of music SiJ (Vladislav Sikach to the Ukrainian Musician’s Guild) dabbles in, making use of any and all instruments at his disposal. This includes guitars, drums, toy pianos, and even homemade machines, much of which was used to explore noisier abstractions and experiments. He’s definitely had plenty opportunity, some forty LPs released across several netlabels this past half decade. Lord Discogs has less info on Textere Oris, one Ilya Fursov of Moscow, but he provides additional field recordings, synths, and the final mixdown. Aw, Simon Heath left out in the cold on this one.
Yeah, that’s what it feels like listening to Reflections Under The Sky: wrapped up in a parka while surveying an old European winter village, just barely hanging on as a testament to civilizations past. It’s at once lovely and immersive, yet a chilling reminder that nothing lasts.
Labels:
2016,
album,
ambient,
Cryo Chamber,
dark ambient,
drone,
dub,
SiJ,
Textere Oris
Wednesday, June 8, 2016
Sarah McLachlan - Rarities, B-Sides & Other Stuff
Nettwerk: 1996
I very nearly bought this when it was new. Rabbit In The Moon is on here, providing two remixes for Ms. McLachlan, including a rub on Possession (aka: that “I’ll take your breath away” song). The fact Rarities, B-Sides, & Other Stuff also has an Extended Remix of the only other song by Sarah I knew of (Into The Fire), and the temptation was there, believe you me. Taking a quick listen changed my mind though - I had no idea she was so acoustic. Right, I’ve already mentioned my early McLachlan knowledge was super-lacking, and man, was I ever gonna’ get some knowledge dropped on me hard the following year, when Surfacing became a Canadian Touchstone of Music Excellence Pertaining To Cultural Significance (or however CBC calls it now). Still, Rabbit In The F’n Moon… You’ve no idea how difficult it was finding their stuff in CD format back in the day. Hell, even now it’s hard, at least for a reasonable penny out of your purse.
While an ‘odds-n-sods’ collection of McLachlan material is hardly out of the ordinary, the fact this came out before she hit international stardom does come as a surprise. No doubt Fumbling Towards Ecstasy was a successful album, and even Solace and Touch had been slow burners, but nothing from those suggested her fanbase had grown significant enough for a stopgap like Rarities, B-Sides, & Other Stuff. She didn’t even have enough material for a ‘Best Of’ package at this stage of her career, and wouldn’t do the deed for that until the 2004 Retrospective. Interest indeed was there though, this compilation actually hitting the Top Ten of Canada’s Billboard charts, and even Triple-Platinum in my country. Wow, I’m not alone in my hunt for obscure Rabbit In The Moon remixes then!
Rarities, B-Sides & Other Stuff definitely lives up to its name, a hodge-podge of miscellaneous material throughout Ms. McLachlan’s first decade of music-making. This includes a number of covers: XTC’s Dear God, Canadian folkie Joni Mitchell’s Blue, and other Canadian folkie Gordon Lightfoot’s Song For A Winter’s Night. These all sound about as you’d expect from Sarah on the acoustic, mellow side, though given the power behind her pipes, I suspect she recorded them during the recent interim between albums, maybe as a means of helping her recharge her muse. Another cover’s here, a live recording of o-o-old-timey lament Gloomy Sunday, with the modernist Billy Holiday lyrics used.
So what’s this ‘other stuff’, then? A soundtrack-only track in I Will Remember You, which was a major selling point for this CD. RITM do a LunaSol Remix on Fear, which the boys behind Delerium were definitely paying attention to. A Violin Mix of Shelter. An early release of Surfacing track Full Of Grace. And, in case you forgot label Nettwerk’s origins leaned synth-pop and industrial, McLachlan lends a voice on 1988’s As the End Draws Near from long-forgotten duo Manufacture. Look, Sarah was young, she needed the work.
I very nearly bought this when it was new. Rabbit In The Moon is on here, providing two remixes for Ms. McLachlan, including a rub on Possession (aka: that “I’ll take your breath away” song). The fact Rarities, B-Sides, & Other Stuff also has an Extended Remix of the only other song by Sarah I knew of (Into The Fire), and the temptation was there, believe you me. Taking a quick listen changed my mind though - I had no idea she was so acoustic. Right, I’ve already mentioned my early McLachlan knowledge was super-lacking, and man, was I ever gonna’ get some knowledge dropped on me hard the following year, when Surfacing became a Canadian Touchstone of Music Excellence Pertaining To Cultural Significance (or however CBC calls it now). Still, Rabbit In The F’n Moon… You’ve no idea how difficult it was finding their stuff in CD format back in the day. Hell, even now it’s hard, at least for a reasonable penny out of your purse.
While an ‘odds-n-sods’ collection of McLachlan material is hardly out of the ordinary, the fact this came out before she hit international stardom does come as a surprise. No doubt Fumbling Towards Ecstasy was a successful album, and even Solace and Touch had been slow burners, but nothing from those suggested her fanbase had grown significant enough for a stopgap like Rarities, B-Sides, & Other Stuff. She didn’t even have enough material for a ‘Best Of’ package at this stage of her career, and wouldn’t do the deed for that until the 2004 Retrospective. Interest indeed was there though, this compilation actually hitting the Top Ten of Canada’s Billboard charts, and even Triple-Platinum in my country. Wow, I’m not alone in my hunt for obscure Rabbit In The Moon remixes then!
Rarities, B-Sides & Other Stuff definitely lives up to its name, a hodge-podge of miscellaneous material throughout Ms. McLachlan’s first decade of music-making. This includes a number of covers: XTC’s Dear God, Canadian folkie Joni Mitchell’s Blue, and other Canadian folkie Gordon Lightfoot’s Song For A Winter’s Night. These all sound about as you’d expect from Sarah on the acoustic, mellow side, though given the power behind her pipes, I suspect she recorded them during the recent interim between albums, maybe as a means of helping her recharge her muse. Another cover’s here, a live recording of o-o-old-timey lament Gloomy Sunday, with the modernist Billy Holiday lyrics used.
So what’s this ‘other stuff’, then? A soundtrack-only track in I Will Remember You, which was a major selling point for this CD. RITM do a LunaSol Remix on Fear, which the boys behind Delerium were definitely paying attention to. A Violin Mix of Shelter. An early release of Surfacing track Full Of Grace. And, in case you forgot label Nettwerk’s origins leaned synth-pop and industrial, McLachlan lends a voice on 1988’s As the End Draws Near from long-forgotten duo Manufacture. Look, Sarah was young, she needed the work.
Tuesday, June 7, 2016
System 7 - Point 3 - Fire Album
Butterfly Records/A-Wave: 1994/2003
See, Point 3 makes good sense as the title of System 7’s third LP; threes, and all that. Except Point 3 wasn’t their third LP, but rather a split concept LP into two albums, Fire and Water. Point 3 – Fire Album is their official third, what with most tracks on Point 3 – Water Album credited as remixes. What, the option of ‘bonus ambient reinterpretation’ disc wasn’t available? That didn’t stop Astralwerks from doing the deed for Stateside distribution. Also, as the band still had to use the moniker 777, the double-LP was titled System 7.3 Fire + Water, clearing up the Point 3 pun if you didn’t get it originally. Yet, because this was only the second album released in the Americas, the ‘.3’ pun is- No, I must stop reiterating these convoluted release points! My mind cannot take the chaos!
*ahem*
Their debut album got them chummy with club culture, and 777 found Steve Hillage and Miquette Giraudy growing into their distinctive techno-trance space-rock hybrid. Point 3, however, is where their reputation as a collaborative supergroup truly cemented. Not that System 7 didn’t have all-star pairings either, but the sense was they were simply hooking up with folks that The Orb palled about with. Fair enough, as it was Alex Paterson that Hillage first connected with. And those associates persist into Point 3 as well, with Youth (Martin Glover) returning for a pair of songs: goa trance on Gliding On Duo-Tone Curves (with Total Eclipse and Juno Reactor in keyboard support, OMG!), and a meditative tribal-dub excursion into trippy world music on Dr. Livingston I Presume. The latter sounds more like a Youth production, something he might have done with Greg Hunter for Dub Trees. Right, Mr. Hunter was lending an engineering hand with the last couple System 7 albums too. Forever production pals!
But we expect that of System 7 anyway. No, it’s the pairings with techno legends that always gets the talk of Techno Town with this group, and for good reason. The Derrick May collaborations Altitude and Fractal Liaison were the most interesting cuts off their debut, and Mr. May brings his Detroit sensibility back for a couple more future-funk tunes in Mysterious Traveller and Overview. Seems like System 7’s dragging him to their trance-trippin’ realm though, both tracks quite out there in the cosmos. Fear not, all ye’ techno stalwarts, for a Frenchman in Laurent Garnier has shown up, opening Point 3 with Sirènes, sounding more like Garnier with Hillage guitar in support. There’s also Batukau, which you might remember in a remixed form on Garnier’s Early Works collection.
Additional names here are The Drum Club (Lol Hammond and Charlie May) on Jupiter!, providing Hillage's guitar the sort of thumping techno track Spiral Tribe alum would do. All this, plus System 7’s own pounding Coltrane (Fire Mix) and tranced-out Alpha Wave (Gliss Mix) makes for a remarkably varied album, with something both techno and trance heads can enjoy.
See, Point 3 makes good sense as the title of System 7’s third LP; threes, and all that. Except Point 3 wasn’t their third LP, but rather a split concept LP into two albums, Fire and Water. Point 3 – Fire Album is their official third, what with most tracks on Point 3 – Water Album credited as remixes. What, the option of ‘bonus ambient reinterpretation’ disc wasn’t available? That didn’t stop Astralwerks from doing the deed for Stateside distribution. Also, as the band still had to use the moniker 777, the double-LP was titled System 7.3 Fire + Water, clearing up the Point 3 pun if you didn’t get it originally. Yet, because this was only the second album released in the Americas, the ‘.3’ pun is- No, I must stop reiterating these convoluted release points! My mind cannot take the chaos!
*ahem*
Their debut album got them chummy with club culture, and 777 found Steve Hillage and Miquette Giraudy growing into their distinctive techno-trance space-rock hybrid. Point 3, however, is where their reputation as a collaborative supergroup truly cemented. Not that System 7 didn’t have all-star pairings either, but the sense was they were simply hooking up with folks that The Orb palled about with. Fair enough, as it was Alex Paterson that Hillage first connected with. And those associates persist into Point 3 as well, with Youth (Martin Glover) returning for a pair of songs: goa trance on Gliding On Duo-Tone Curves (with Total Eclipse and Juno Reactor in keyboard support, OMG!), and a meditative tribal-dub excursion into trippy world music on Dr. Livingston I Presume. The latter sounds more like a Youth production, something he might have done with Greg Hunter for Dub Trees. Right, Mr. Hunter was lending an engineering hand with the last couple System 7 albums too. Forever production pals!
But we expect that of System 7 anyway. No, it’s the pairings with techno legends that always gets the talk of Techno Town with this group, and for good reason. The Derrick May collaborations Altitude and Fractal Liaison were the most interesting cuts off their debut, and Mr. May brings his Detroit sensibility back for a couple more future-funk tunes in Mysterious Traveller and Overview. Seems like System 7’s dragging him to their trance-trippin’ realm though, both tracks quite out there in the cosmos. Fear not, all ye’ techno stalwarts, for a Frenchman in Laurent Garnier has shown up, opening Point 3 with Sirènes, sounding more like Garnier with Hillage guitar in support. There’s also Batukau, which you might remember in a remixed form on Garnier’s Early Works collection.
Additional names here are The Drum Club (Lol Hammond and Charlie May) on Jupiter!, providing Hillage's guitar the sort of thumping techno track Spiral Tribe alum would do. All this, plus System 7’s own pounding Coltrane (Fire Mix) and tranced-out Alpha Wave (Gliss Mix) makes for a remarkably varied album, with something both techno and trance heads can enjoy.
Labels:
1994,
A-Wave,
album,
dub,
goa trance,
System 7,
techno,
world beat
Monday, June 6, 2016
Dronny Darko - Outer Tehom
Cryo Chamber: 2014
Have I mentioned Dronny Darko’s name yet? Tsk, three albums deep, and that’s just unacceptable. Right, Earth Songs was a collaborative project with protoU (real name Sasha Cats), and seeing as how I spent the bulk of that one getting all giddy over the CD’s concept, you’ll forgive my omission. Then I came to Neuroplasticity, and spent a good deal of time delving into Dronny’s details; and yet, no proper name drop. This self-imposed word count though, it forces content cuts, information incised from each review. And that’s good, long-winded, tedious, go nowhere tangents of useless use seldom clogging each post. Even if the sacrifice must be an artist’s real name, it must be so, lest I unwarily ramble into the never-ending chasm that is the Pointless Pitchforkian Anecdote.
Oleg Puzan debuted on Cryo Chamber with this album, and got his first hard copy CD out of the deal to boot. No more languishing in obscurity on saturated dark ambient netlabels, yo’! Heh, no, the Ukrainian resident was making a name for himself, one that stood out if for no other reason than he went by such an obvious pun in the drone scene. He's also rather obvious in tackling the concept of ‘old world horror’ here, where the occult and the profane meet up for a good ol’ outing in the murky pitch of abhorrent black realms. Not the most original topic where dark ambient is concerned, but these Cryo Chamber guys, I gotta’ hand it to them, always unearthing some of the most obscure references to suckle their creative juices from.
For those who are not practicing scholars of Judaism (or theology in general), Tehom is a deep, abyssal realm, kinda’ like Hell, but an empty void rather than a fire and brimstone domain. There’s also an ocean there apparently, for this is where it’s said the Great Flood that drowned the lands of Noah’s age originated from. God sent the waters of the Red Sea into Tehom as well, when Moses had to scurry all those Hebrew refugees out of Pharao’s clutches. And ultimately, you can either go there to drown in your sins, or be granted safe passage through during the End Of Days, depending on who you ask. It’s all quite vague, with barely a mention in any tome, but cool that ol’ Oleg used it as a source.
Also cool is how each track is thirteen minutes long, even if the significance is lost on me. Opener Black Arts and closer Arcane Shrine are rather similar in the desolate drone they offer, though Black Arts does start with some gnarly throat singing. Mortal Skin goes as you’d expect of occult dark ambient, including many creepy chants. Compared to the other three tracks though, Snake Hole is surprisingly soothing, if still eerie in a ‘staring into the abyss’ manner. I must wonder too, whether Outer Tehom is set in a contemporary age, as I hear distant transmissions emanating from distant radios throughout. Strange, that.
Have I mentioned Dronny Darko’s name yet? Tsk, three albums deep, and that’s just unacceptable. Right, Earth Songs was a collaborative project with protoU (real name Sasha Cats), and seeing as how I spent the bulk of that one getting all giddy over the CD’s concept, you’ll forgive my omission. Then I came to Neuroplasticity, and spent a good deal of time delving into Dronny’s details; and yet, no proper name drop. This self-imposed word count though, it forces content cuts, information incised from each review. And that’s good, long-winded, tedious, go nowhere tangents of useless use seldom clogging each post. Even if the sacrifice must be an artist’s real name, it must be so, lest I unwarily ramble into the never-ending chasm that is the Pointless Pitchforkian Anecdote.
Oleg Puzan debuted on Cryo Chamber with this album, and got his first hard copy CD out of the deal to boot. No more languishing in obscurity on saturated dark ambient netlabels, yo’! Heh, no, the Ukrainian resident was making a name for himself, one that stood out if for no other reason than he went by such an obvious pun in the drone scene. He's also rather obvious in tackling the concept of ‘old world horror’ here, where the occult and the profane meet up for a good ol’ outing in the murky pitch of abhorrent black realms. Not the most original topic where dark ambient is concerned, but these Cryo Chamber guys, I gotta’ hand it to them, always unearthing some of the most obscure references to suckle their creative juices from.
For those who are not practicing scholars of Judaism (or theology in general), Tehom is a deep, abyssal realm, kinda’ like Hell, but an empty void rather than a fire and brimstone domain. There’s also an ocean there apparently, for this is where it’s said the Great Flood that drowned the lands of Noah’s age originated from. God sent the waters of the Red Sea into Tehom as well, when Moses had to scurry all those Hebrew refugees out of Pharao’s clutches. And ultimately, you can either go there to drown in your sins, or be granted safe passage through during the End Of Days, depending on who you ask. It’s all quite vague, with barely a mention in any tome, but cool that ol’ Oleg used it as a source.
Also cool is how each track is thirteen minutes long, even if the significance is lost on me. Opener Black Arts and closer Arcane Shrine are rather similar in the desolate drone they offer, though Black Arts does start with some gnarly throat singing. Mortal Skin goes as you’d expect of occult dark ambient, including many creepy chants. Compared to the other three tracks though, Snake Hole is surprisingly soothing, if still eerie in a ‘staring into the abyss’ manner. I must wonder too, whether Outer Tehom is set in a contemporary age, as I hear distant transmissions emanating from distant radios throughout. Strange, that.
Labels:
2014,
album,
Cryo Chamber,
dark ambient,
drone,
Dronny Darko
Saturday, June 4, 2016
Various - Now And Then: Music From The Motion Picture
Columbia: 1995
If it wasn’t clear that much of this current backlog was formally owned by a person of the double-X persuasion, this should all but confirm it. Now And Then was a movie fully intended for a female audience, an attempt at Stand By Me for all the mothers and daughters of America. Well, maybe not specifically intended as such by writer I. Marlene King, but it sure was marketed that way. Big mistake that, the movie critically panned for being a rehashed ‘feminist Stand By Me’. Ooh, couldn’t get away with such a derisive critique these days, even if there’s some truth in the matter.
But why shouldn’t there be such a movie? With so few generational, female-led vehicles out there, star Demi Moore felt strongly enough in the project to help fund it herself. If my own mother and sister are anything to go by, it certainly succeeded, Now And Then on constant rotation once the VHS came out. Who cares if the plot was paper thin, the storyline syrupy-sweet, and big-name actresses in Moore, Rosie O’Donnell, Melanie Griffith, and Rita Wilson barely appear - Now And Then was about the memories of times past, growing up in the early ‘70s. A total nostalgia trip for mothers, while bonding with their daughters as they related to the younger cast. And if I’m honest, I didn’t mind putting up with the movie either, what with Thora Birch and Christina Ricci as part of the cast. Don’t deny it, all my ‘90s bros, you did too.
Naturally, the only sort of music that could accompany such a film is the bubblegum pop and chart topping R&B of the era. Rolling Stone magazine and all its spiritual successors may have constantly gone on about the revolution of rock, continuously peddling the narrative of which bands were the Very Important Bands we should honor, respect, and study. All well and good, but it was stuff like The Archies’ Sugar, Sugar that the majority of people were playing on the radio at this time. The scene of the girls riding their bikes singing Tony Orlando’s Knock Three Times? My mum swears her childhood was exactly like that! The Monkees were perfectly willing fill-ins of moptop pop once The Beatles buried themselves in the studio. And hoo, let’s not forget Motown’s complete dominance of this era either: The Jackson 5, Stevie Wonder, Diana Ross, and Freda Payne – all mega-selling names most folks would enjoy over that ‘stoner’ rock the weird boys would listen to. Not that there’s a little room for rock in this soundtrack, Free’s All Right Now and Badfinger’s No Matter What finding their way in as well. It’s pretty safe-sounding stuff though, total AM radio material college students wouldn’t have any use for.
But then, the music for Now And Then wasn’t curated with me in mind. It’s a snapshot of what girls of the early ‘70s were playing, and we can’t fault it for that. Ricci growing into Rosie, however…
If it wasn’t clear that much of this current backlog was formally owned by a person of the double-X persuasion, this should all but confirm it. Now And Then was a movie fully intended for a female audience, an attempt at Stand By Me for all the mothers and daughters of America. Well, maybe not specifically intended as such by writer I. Marlene King, but it sure was marketed that way. Big mistake that, the movie critically panned for being a rehashed ‘feminist Stand By Me’. Ooh, couldn’t get away with such a derisive critique these days, even if there’s some truth in the matter.
But why shouldn’t there be such a movie? With so few generational, female-led vehicles out there, star Demi Moore felt strongly enough in the project to help fund it herself. If my own mother and sister are anything to go by, it certainly succeeded, Now And Then on constant rotation once the VHS came out. Who cares if the plot was paper thin, the storyline syrupy-sweet, and big-name actresses in Moore, Rosie O’Donnell, Melanie Griffith, and Rita Wilson barely appear - Now And Then was about the memories of times past, growing up in the early ‘70s. A total nostalgia trip for mothers, while bonding with their daughters as they related to the younger cast. And if I’m honest, I didn’t mind putting up with the movie either, what with Thora Birch and Christina Ricci as part of the cast. Don’t deny it, all my ‘90s bros, you did too.
Naturally, the only sort of music that could accompany such a film is the bubblegum pop and chart topping R&B of the era. Rolling Stone magazine and all its spiritual successors may have constantly gone on about the revolution of rock, continuously peddling the narrative of which bands were the Very Important Bands we should honor, respect, and study. All well and good, but it was stuff like The Archies’ Sugar, Sugar that the majority of people were playing on the radio at this time. The scene of the girls riding their bikes singing Tony Orlando’s Knock Three Times? My mum swears her childhood was exactly like that! The Monkees were perfectly willing fill-ins of moptop pop once The Beatles buried themselves in the studio. And hoo, let’s not forget Motown’s complete dominance of this era either: The Jackson 5, Stevie Wonder, Diana Ross, and Freda Payne – all mega-selling names most folks would enjoy over that ‘stoner’ rock the weird boys would listen to. Not that there’s a little room for rock in this soundtrack, Free’s All Right Now and Badfinger’s No Matter What finding their way in as well. It’s pretty safe-sounding stuff though, total AM radio material college students wouldn’t have any use for.
But then, the music for Now And Then wasn’t curated with me in mind. It’s a snapshot of what girls of the early ‘70s were playing, and we can’t fault it for that. Ricci growing into Rosie, however…
Labels:
1995,
classic rock,
Columbia,
pop,
R&B,
soul,
soundtrack
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tools
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Tourette Records
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Tracing Xircles
Traffic Entertainment Group
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Trend
Trentemøller
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Triloka Records
trip-hop
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Tsuba Records
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Tuff Gong
Tunnel Records
Turbo Recordings
turntablism
TUU
TVT Records
Twisted Records
Type O Negative
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Ãœberzone
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Ultimae Records
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UNKLE
Unknown Tone Records
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Venonza Records
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WEA
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Xerxes The Dark
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Yes
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zakè
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