High Contrast - Tough Guys Don't Dance (Original TC Review)

Hospital Records: 2007

(2016 Update)
'Tough guys' may not dance, but only when we're dishin' out some tough, critical love, eh? I mean, wow, I could be a hard ass on trance in the TranceCritic days, but I sure wasn't giving High Contrast much slack here. I think the problem was, listening to this album a few times over as I typically did before reviewing something back then, a number of these tracks quickly grew too repetitive for my liking. Having some years and musical distance from this album though, Tough Guys Don't Dance is actually a good rollickin' time, great for a dunk into super-fun liquid funk before getting out of an overcrowded pool. Alright, I was also parroting some of the d'n'b narrative I'd read at the time regarding Hospital Records, but that label's endured remarkably well in the ensuing decade, remaining steadfast in its uplifting manifesto even as different trends come and go.

As for High Contrast, this was his last album, a shame. What, that record a few years ago, with the dubstep and the pointless, weak-sauce collaboration with Tiësto and Underworld? Whatever is this Bizarro Earth you speak of? Does Donald Trump rule your realm?)


IN BRIEF: The soul is in danger of becoming stagnant.

Credit must be given where it is due. Drum ‘n’ bass was in serious danger of growing far too self-serious after the turn of the century, even for itself. Then along comes some young upstart named Lincoln Barrett and, along with the Hospital Records crew, reminded the world the genre can be filled with plenty of uplifting optimistic vibes too. Soaring strings, singing soul sistas, and Robert Owens invaded the realm of jungle militants, and for a while it seemed as though liquid funk would be the future of ‘dee’bee’.

That was half a decade ago [ed: even longer now!]. Obviously the big Hospital take-over didn’t quite occur, but still they carved out their niche and have stayed the course with their sound... and stayed... and stayed... and now that just isn’t enough.

Yes, folks, it’s true. Rumors and buzzes from the underground abound that liquid funk has become played out; is past its prime; in need of a rest; if not, at least some re-invention. The same ol’ formula can only carry a scene for so long before predictable production becomes too common, and this sub-genre of jungle is decidedly drawing nearer to such a period. With two highly regarded albums already under his belt, can Mr. Barrett prove there’s still plenty of life in the girl on his third High Contrast full-length?

Forever And A Day makes a strong argument for the case. With rhythms that gets the heart racing and orchestral swells that set the spirit soaring, this is liquid funk at peak proficiency. In many other forms of music, a lyric like “and the birds are singing pretty little songs” would get snickered out of the scene, but in the hands of High Contrast, he makes it exhilarating. Top notch stuff, my friends.

Nothing else comes close to that track on Tough Guys Don’t Dance, but Barrett shouldn’t be expected to hit a grand-slam every time. However, although each tune he crafts is easily above average, very few of them are a home-run either. It’s fine for a few tracks into the album, but by the time Eternal Optimist and Chances roll along, the template has become far too predictable and lacks the panache that made Forever And A Day such a winner.

The trouble lies in the fact a lot of Lincoln’s tricks are over-familiar now, and he doesn’t do much on this album to shake the formula up. You’d think a producer of his caliber wouldn’t dare be caught going through the motions, yet it honestly does sound like he is with his liquid funk offerings. The r’n’b divas, the soulful crooners (mostly J’Nay in this case), the smooth rolling basslines, the 2-step breakbeats, and the orchestral samples: almost all of it sounds like it could have been produced at any point in his career, and without the care to treat them as something more than just another tune to rinse out by the Hospital Records roster. Fine and dandy for brief one-offs at a club night, sure, but unfortunately rather stale in an album context, especially one’s third.

There are moments where he does deter from the template, and unsurprisingly these tracks are amongst the album’s highlights. Opener If We Ever may have most of liquid funk’s requisite trappings, but instead relies on some old school jungle rhythms which are good fun. Elsewhere, Nobody Gets Out Alive adds a twist to things by making use of a bassline that pounds rather than rolls and some old blues sample that wouldn’t have sounded too out of place on Moby’s Play. The two atmospheric cuts - Tread Softly and The Ghost Of Jungle Past - although quite stuck in the 90s, are lush. As for his fiercer offerings like Sleepless, Metamorphosis, and Pink Flamingos, they’re hit or miss, and ultimately serving as little better than breaks in the liquid funk monotony.

Hn. Reading this back, and it seems like I’m just bitching about liquid funk, when truthfully I do enjoy the stuff. It is, after all, quite uplifting music. However, its mostly singular execution on Mr. Barrett’s third doesn’t offer as much depth as you’d expect given how nifty the surface often presents itself. Still, Tough Guys Don’t Dance is hardly a write-off. The highlights are stellar, the atmospheric detours are pleasant, and tracks like Kiss Kiss Bang Bang and Everything’s Different are class, if somewhat formulaic.

I’ve heard High Contrast criticized as being drum ‘n’ bass for newbies, which is rather unfair (jump-up still holds the crown for that distinction) but I can see where such critics are coming from. Lincoln’s stuff is very accessible for the uninitiated junglist and would prefer keeping a party active rather than challenge the listener. However, by sticking to such simple tried and tested tactics, his appeal won’t last should you explore the realm of jungle further, as producers with far greater tricks abound. If you have a passing fancy for liquid funk, Tough Guys Don’t Dance will serve you find, but seasoned vets of the scene may be disappointed.

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

Michael Mayer - Touch

Kompakt: 2004

One of the co-founders of Kompakt? You bet Michael Mayer is a Very Important Person in the world in techno! Maybe not quite as important as fellow Kompakt’re Wolfgang Voigt, who’s the Most Important German Techno Person of all history, should you ask certain sorts out there in internet music journalism land. Still, as the label wingman, Mr. Mayer’s earned himself plenty of positive buzz as well. Though he’s by no means as prolific a producer as Wolfgang was, as the century turned he had a tidy career as a microhouse DJ, even getting in on that early fabric mix CD action. Even with his own label, however, Michael’s output was intermediate at best, reportedly a fussy producer never satisfied with his results long enough to commit to disc.

Someone must have lit that bug up his bum regarding making music though, a debut album in the form of Touch finally hitting shelves in the late of 2004. And not a moment too soon, the gospel of Kompakt finally drifting out of its Cologne, Germany base into a wider world of success and scorns (more the former). This was about when The Orb joined Kompakt after all, and nothing gets a music scene buzzing like a veteran joining an upstart label. Probably didn’t hurt a lot of cool techno people had moved to Berlin by this point too. Thus, with all eyes on German labels and whatever hot records they were kicking out, The Mayer’d One was in prime position to reap the critical plaudits from electronic music reviewers abroad. Except Resident Advisor; they instead covered Armin van Buuren’s latest Universal Religion that month.

As an album, Touch is an unfussy collection of tracks. It opens with a rather trancey titular cut, the sort of tune that helped start that nebulous neo-trance micro-genre of the next few years. It even has a breakdown and build with swelling pads, piano chords, and off-beat acid bass. It's such a throwback of early German trance that I’m astounded more folks didn’t write-off the minimal tech-house darling right then and there. Still, it’s not like Kompakt was ever shy about getting in touch with their unabashed melodic side.

The rest of the album plays more to the style you’d expect of mid-‘00s German tech-haus. Privat provides a slow, simmering groove with funky guitar licks and pads in support. Heiden goes heavier with its techno-thump, while Neue Luthersche Frakfur gets in on that trendy electro-house acid-fart action for a bit before indulging some escalating-sound action. Mid-track Slowfood runs for ten-plus minutes, and is clearly Mr. Mayer’s big artiste moment on the album, with meandering funk rhythms, bleepy ambient techno interludes, and cinematic crescendos. Bit much for my taste – give me the simplistic noir groove of Lovefood any day!

A couple functional tech-haus tracks close Touch out, but by no means come off dated. Even a decade on, Mayer’s debut holds up just fine. Something to be said for keeping things simple, eh?

Eurythmics - Touch

RCA: 1983/2005

Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This) took Eurythmics from the brink of commercial failure to the heights of chart success, literally overnight. Though a little flustered by their sudden fortune, Annie Lennox and David Stewart didn’t rest on their laurels, almost immediately hitting the studio again for the quick follow-up Touch. It’s all that new gear Stewart purchased that spurred them on, cutting-edge toys that offered more creative freedom than ever before. Oh, the wonders of the 24-track machine! That voyetra gizmo wasn’t too shabby either. You bet your bottomed-out dollar the duo felt those creative juices flowing with so many options now available to them.

The resulting album was far more diverse than its predecessor, bolder in its genre explorations while offering hit singles on par with their breakout. Sweet Dreams will forever be considered the definitive Eurythmics song, but the two big cuts off Touch earned them just as much radio play as that one. Who’s That Girl? became a synth-pop anthem for every woman scorned by a promiscuous lover, and earned itself some attention for its gender-bending art. Yep, that’s Lennox on the single’s cover, decked out in fashionable collared shirt and tie, sporting an Elvis wig and a five-o’clock shadow, even kissing her lounge-singer persona at the end of the video. I never realized that until recently, so crafty the costume is! More conventional is the video for Here Comes The Rain Again (truly a West Coast anthem), where Lennox and Stewart wander the cliffs around The Old Man Of Hoy (seaside erosion porn!). The tune, however, shows off that new-fangled 24-track machine by bringing in orchestral support to Eurythmics’ icy-cool, melancholic synth pop. And yes, that’s the London Philharmonic providing the strings, with Michael Kamen conducting no less. Apparently the studio didn’t have enough room to house the orchestra properly, some members playing in hallways. Methinks Stewart’s gonna’ want himself a bigger studio after.

While Sweet Dreams: The Album was mostly forced to stick with a stripped-down, synth heavy style, the increased options for Touch gave Eurythmics more opportunity to try out other genres. This includes Caribbean influenced jams like third single Right By Your Side, dubbier new wave (Regrets; No Fear, No Hate, No Pain (No Broken Hearts)), peppier rock-leaning numbers (Cool Blue, The First Cut) and experimental indulgences like floaty Aqua and Paint A Rumor. This track, also final track on the album, goes well over seven minutes, and runs the gamut of synth pop, funk, electro, Arabian, and all manner of manipulation on Lennox’s voice.

As out there as Paint A Rumor is in the Eurythmics discography, it’s nothing compared to the oddities of the b-sides included with the reissue. You Take Some Lentils And You Take Some Rice is all sorts of avante-garde European synth pop, Plus Something Else is a funky instrumental, and ABC (Freeform) sounds like an early Kraftwerk outtake. Other bonuses include a cover of Bowie’s Fame, and… an acoustic version of Who’s That Girl?. Aaugh, real instruments!

Various - Toronto Mix Sessions: Kenny Glasgow

Turbo: 2001

Of course Toronto has a CD in Turbo’s Mix Sessions series. Tiga couldn’t keep showing all those Nordic cities love without giving The Centre Of The (hockey) Universe its representation. The Toronto dance scene is a long, storied one, with a rich history in house, techno, trance, jungle, hardcore, and, um, reggae? Okay, I honestly know very little about their rave story. I watched a lot of Electric Circus in the ‘90s, have heard tall tales of a club called Guvernment, and I’m pretty certain Chris Sheppard made his fame in the region. As far as I know it developed as most metropolitan dance cultures did, generating DJs and producers in equal measure of crossover fame and underground cred’. Even the venerated Global Underground series gave Toronto its spotlight on the twenty-fifth volume (mixed by Deep Dish, of course). And yet, Vancouver, she get no attention, ever. Might Mix Sessions have eventually migrated to the West Coast, had Turbo stayed in the mix CD business long enough? If even Sheffield got a mix, damn right we should have gotten one too!

Another thing I’m uncertain of is how Kenny Glasgow got the nod as Toronto’s chosen jock. Most other Mix Sessions editions went with DJs within Tiga’s networking circle, so I’ll assume Mr. Glasgow was also down with the Turbo crew, giving the scene veteran some of his greatest exposure ever. Wow, so weird typing that out, considering he’d become internationally famous nearly a decade later as one-half of Art Department. Also remarkable is the fact this CD is Kenny’s lone DJ mix credit within Lord Discog’s archives. Not even something on a regional print? You’d think someone who’s been rinsing out records since the early ‘90s would have more on the market. He technically got to do a fabric mix as Art Department last year, but by the time that came out, he’d left the pairing to focus on his solo work again.

As this is a Turbo CD released in the year 2001, you bet Toronto Mix Sessions hits the electro hard. Anthony Rother is here! Felix Da Housecat is here! Miss Kittin, absolutely here! The Hacker shows up thrice! Even Kraftwerk gets in, in an incredibly roundabout way: Señor Coconut covers Showroom Dummies, and Markus Nikolai provides a rub. Tech-house has its early moments care of Märtini Brös’ Babyhaze, but Kenny doesn’t waste much time in unleashing techno from The Advent, Si Begg, and John Selway. While flitting between funky tech-house and moody electro, Mr. Glasgow saves his prime weapons for the end, with a Laurent Garnier rub of Silver Screen Shower Scene, and an unashamed laser-kissed anthem in Kissogram’s If I Had Known This Before. The requisite outro of 4am bangin’ techno from The Vectif’s The Spice and Night On Earth’s Simple Short Cut completes a well-rounded set that should have propelled Mr. Glasgow out of Toronto obscurity. But alas, the Turbo bump didn’t do much for him. That Crosstown Rebels print later on, tho’...

Neil Young - Tonight's The Night

Reprise Records: 1975

This is Neil Young dead centre in the ditch; or the middle album of his acclaimed Ditch Trilogy. Though released as the third album of the three, it was recorded between the live Time Fades Away and comedown blues of On The Beach. It also features one of his most ragged collections of tunes ever, perhaps only topped by the impossibly fun-n-sloppy Re-Ac-Ter down the road. This was seen as a revelation for many a critic, a resounding triumph of back-to-basics grubby rock by one of the scene’s veterans, delivered at a time when many rockers had grown fat and content on their earlier commercial successes. Not this Young fellah’ though! He saw that fame, lived that dream, got all that paper, bought that ranch, and got super-depressed over it, beating Roger Waters’ infamous crisis of faith by a few years.

Naturally, none of this was planned on Young’s part. Rather, compounding issues like testy tours, fears of creative stagnation, and dying friends all led to Tonight’s The Night. As the story goes, the double-whammy drug deaths of Crazy Horse leader Danny Whitten and roadie pal Bruce Berry got Neil off the road and seeking some good ol’ camaraderie from his closest musical friends. No, not Crosby, Stills and Nash, the ‘supergroup’ still in a state of mutual ‘frenemy’ flux. Rather, he hooked back up with the remaining Crazy Horse members, plus wonderkid guitarist Nils Lofgren, Harvest’s ace pedal steel guitarist Ben Keith, and producer pal Jack Nitzsche for a session at brother-of-Bruce's ramshackle studio. An all-star line-up of Young’s ‘raw’ repertoire, then!

They basically all got drunk, got stoned, played billiards, and played music late into the night, their recording time an extended wake for their departed comrades. Music quite literally about Bruce Berry the man (Tonight’s The Night), about the pitfalls of the druggie lifestyle (Speakin’ Out, Tired Eyes, Lookout Joe), some lighter moments (Roll Another Number), but generally everything just going to shit (World On A String, Albuquerque, Mellow My Mind). Tunes mostly stick to stoner blues, though with a little rock and country thrown in for good measure.

It’s also very unpolished material, about as ‘live’ sounding as a studio session can get, and hardly of quality label heads figured someone with Young’s fame could conceivably want out on the market. Following the equally unprofessional and commercial letdown that was Time Fades Away, you bet Reprise Records was leery about releasing this album as was. Another contentious tour playing the album in its entirety, well before any singles or records were pressed, only made frustrated fans more irate with Young’s increasingly agitating antics. Tonight’s The Night was thus shelved, perhaps indefinitely, yet another ‘lost classic’ in the annals of rock history.

Then, a couple years later, while going through some demos of new material, Young played the Tonight’s The Night sessions as a point of comparison. He instantly thought, “Hey, this is some raw, real stuff. Let’s go with this instead.” And he done did.

Coldcut - Tone Tales From Tomorrow Too

Ntone: 1996

This is one damn weird CD. For sure you can glean that just from the cover art, a bizarre bit of ‘90s CGI that looks like something out of a SNES fever dream. But did you know this is a Coldcut DJ mix? Seeing as how More and Black don’t often dip their fingers into the realms of mix CDs, you’d think Tone Tales From Tomorrow Too would get more attention. Heck, this came out just a year after 70 Minutes Of Madness, a set many hail as one of the finest mixes committed to disc of the ‘90s. Their mighty successful album Let Us Play! was also just around the calendar corner. For all intents this little CD was on the market at peak Coldcut prominence, so shouldn’t it be talked up just as much? Yeah, maybe if it’d been marketed through Ninja Tune, that might have been the case. Rather, Tone Tales From Tomorrow Too was a showcase of sub-label Ntone, in fact the second of a short-lived promotional series. Because the “Too” is supposed to be “Two”, get it? Hell, if you think the title’s strained alliteration is something else, you should read the inlay blurb.

Naturally, I knew none of this going in. Tone Tales From Tomorrow Too was one of my earliest ‘underground’ purchases, joined with the knowledge drop of Techno Nights – Ambient Dawn and taste-changing One A.D. Thus I had no clue who Coldcut was, much less any of the other names on the tracklist. My only requisite for a buy was cool-strange cover art (check!), and a ton of unknowns I could discover. Names like Neoptropic, Hex, Transcend, Spacetime Continuum, and Alien Community certainly fit the bill, all with abstract future-sounding song titles like 50cc, 2003, Dubmunculus, and Alien Community. Why, this must be one of those Very Important Albums in my musical journey then! Maybe, if it wasn’t such an odd collection of tunes.

Ntone was essentially Ninja Tune’s outlet for leftfield music: druggy trip-hop, dubby techno, and dreamy stoner ambient, which Tone Tales From Tomorrow Too delivers in full force. It was all a bit much to take in for Teenage Sykonee, a larger leap into the underground than he was ready for. It didn’t help matters that the entire mix is a single index, so if I wanted to hear more of that wicked-awesome sci-fi electro of Alien Community or Spacetime Continuum’s Pressure, I had to play out most of the CD to get there. Heck, for the longest time I thought these were the same track, though the stylistic similarities make sense given Jonah Sharp is behind both aliases (Alien Community was a pairing with Pete Namlook).

Why would Coldcut do such a thing? Their mix isn’t filled with lengthy layered blends, most tracks transitioned as per normal for a chill set. It’s because of that CD-ROM app, isn’t it; the clunky turntable mixer with samples from various tracks? Aww, I thought the extra media was gonna’ be trippy CGI videos.

Boards Of Canada - Tomorrow's Harvest

Warp Records: 2013

Probably the most Boards Of Canada sounding album that Boards Of Canada have released. “But wait,” you cry after flipping your TV dinner tray and knocking over a lamp with that flowery canopy and tassels hanging like a droopy hippie, “how can that be? Music Has The Right To Children is their best album for all eternity!” Hey, I ain’t taking that away, though I’m certain a number of folks figure The Campfire Headphase a better album than Musical Children. Hell, there’s probably a few odd sorts that rank Geogaddi’s ultra-cryptic nonsense concept as Most Essential Boards. Almost nowhere does Tomorrow’s Harvest enter this discussion, though its relative newness hasn’t afforded it much gestation time compared to most BoC.

Thing about the Big Three of Boards Of Canada’s discography is they each had their own, distinct sound. For sure there’s the BoC sonic markers you’ll hear in every one of their records (trip-hop beats, analog synth tones, ‘70s fuzz), but one can still instantly tell which album’s playing: Musical Children has the nostalgic playful innocence, Geogaddi the harsh experimentation, and Campfire Headphase the acoustic shoegaze pieces. Tomorrow’s Harvest has no such signifiers of instant identification; in fact, one could claim its lack of a recognizable theme is this album’s primary theme, but that’s rather stupid. Misters Sandison and Eoin most definitely had a theme in mind for this album, one that still paid homage to the ‘70s sounds they grew up listening to. For having relived the children’s documentaries and trips out to the countryside, Boards Of Canada felt time to grow up and explore the desolate futures so many sci-fi films of the era dealt with. Cold War babies didn’t have much hope for our present times, did they?

The start of Tomorrow’s Harvest certainly sells this premise, opener Gemini and third track White Cyclosa the sort of music a Berlin School composer might write for such a film. Lodged between them, Reach For The Dead brings in the Boards’ style of crackly beatcraft and warm synth timbre while adding wide-screen grandeur to their palette, a more cinematic approach to their vintage style. And that’s essentially the bulk of music you’ll find on Tomorrow’s Harvest, tunes less concerned with hauntology than presenting a narrative fitting its theme. There are a few scattered ambient doodles (Uritual, Telepath, Transmisiones Ferox, Collapse), and a couple ‘childhood recollection’ pieces poke their heads out (Nothing Is Real, Cold Earth). For the most part though, Tomorrow’s Harvest sounds like Boards Of Canada stripped down to their raw essence, their music as stark as the barren futurescape that encapsulates their would-be film.

Many who spent years dissecting their other albums were flustered with Tomorrow’s Harvest, unsure what to make of such a modest concept LP. The long gap between albums didn’t help matters, fans filled with much hype and thrill for BoC’s return. Yet it’s almost forgotten now, seldom talked up as folks keep referring back to older records. Guess some remain fixed in the past.

The Brian Jonestown Massacre - Strung Out In Heaven

TVT Records: 1998

I’ve hit saturation point of how much alternative music I can handle. What a petty complaint. It’s not like I’m digging into the truly obscure recesses of the indie realms, most names cropping up well-known, respected talent with deserved critical and commercial success. Plus I’ve spent these past two months keeping a toe or two in electronic genres I’m familiar with, all the while exploring the darker regions of a specific sub-genre. Yet here I am, face to ear with another indie rock band I know nothing about, hearing tunes that are all fine and dandy Worhals, but my mind sub-consciously keeps turning it to mush. It’s as though the previous fifty releases I’ve reviewed are a smorgasbord of music, filled with entrees I’m familiar with but several I’ve never actually sampled. And darn it, I’ve paid for the All You Can Eat option, so I’m gonna’ sample everything in this spread. But man, am I ever feeling stuffed finally getting to those last few dishes.

Anyhow, The Brian Jonestown Massacre. This is a band headlined by one Anton Newcombe, the sort of eccentric musician I’m sure many music scribes have described as ‘authentic’ or ‘audacious’, fearing few paths with his sonic adventures. Starting out as a ‘shoegaze’ group, the San Fran band shows no shame in their love of psychedelic rock, and curse their luck getting their start in the ‘90s. No, wait, that's when starry-eyed gazes back to the decade of Dylan, Beatles, Byrds, and Stones kicked in, to say nothing of movie soundtracks revitalizing ‘70s music for a younger generation. This was the perfect time for The Brian Jonestown Massacre’s brand of rock to flourish!

TVT Records certainly thought so, signing the band to a fat, multi-album contract after their underground cred starting bubbling over. The result is Strung Out In Heaven, an album that sounds like an HD remaster of ‘60s folk rock. Apparently band member Matt Hollywood wrote more of the songs in this outing, what with Anton getting too deep in that heroin lifestyle. Silly Anton, you save that drug for the ‘70s throwbacks – ‘60s was all on that acid trip, yo’.

Listening to this album, I feel like it was intended as a soundtrack for an epic Americana indie film, another celluloid attempt at On The Road where the only bad choice the protagonist makes is going home. Seems TVT Records felt the same way, the packaging straight out of some ‘60s pulp cinema, the band members listed on the cover like stars of the film. There’s plenty of dreamy melodies, groovy Hammond organs, folksy strumming, and stoned singing, a total love-letter to times past as envisioned by musicians far removed from the era. Too much of an ode, turns out, Strung Out In Heaven failing to sell anywhere near TVT’s expectations. Realizing the band was a bit too ‘out there’ for the major independent print, Brain Jonestown Massacre mutually split from TVT, and they went back to making weirdo music again.

PJ Harvey - Stories From The City, Stories From The Sea

Island Records: 2000

The only PJ Harvey album you probably have, if you decided it was about time to take a listen-in on the indie-darling lady rocker. She even admits Stories From The City, Stories From The Sea is her stab at a pop-leaning record, though obviously said with tongue firmly in cheek. It generated the most sales abroad of any album in her career, yet is her lowest charted LP in her native UK. Yes, not even the sweet selling point of a couple Thom Yorke collaborations was enough to convince the indie British this wasn’t a blatant sell-out. Wait, the mellow To Bring You My Love didn’t do the trick? The ‘electronica’ Is This Desire? wasn’t proof Ms. Harvey had no problem jumping on trends? So fickle, these UK music lovers. She couldn’t scream that raw, angst rock of her early work forever, y’know. People grow up, mature, experiment, try different things, explore their latent abilities, aim for the light after spending time in the ditch, and all that.

Full disclosure: I’m among the rear tier of folks who should talk up PJ Harvey’s career. Of course I know about the singer-songwriter out of Yeovil (such a cool name, that!), her influence as a trailblazer for aggressive women of ‘90s rock. I’m sure a few of her tunes or guest appearances have crossed my ears over the years, and anyone that namedrops Neil F’n Young as an inspiration is a-ok in my books. Even glancing over her discography, it’s clear she follows a similar ‘give no fucks’ approach in following her muse wherever it may lead. And fortunately, her catalog doesn’t seem nearly as daunting as other eclectic sorts if one is so tempted to dive full-in. I just doubt I’ll be doing so anytime soon, if at all. Maybe if this ‘electronic music’ thing ever wears itself completely out on my ears. ‘Riot grrl’ rock might be a fun dalliance when I’m sixty-four.

As mentioned, Stories From The City, Stories From The Sea is ol’ Polly’s bestselling album, and has also earned her plenty of accolades as well. Playing it through, it’s easy to hear why, the music smooth and polished, many tunes sounding custom made for most rock radio stations. Yet there’s always something just a little more interesting going on beyond your stock FM filler. Catchy choruses contain clever lyrics, Harvey showing range in her singing voice as each song necessitates (angrier here, playful there, moody elsewhere). There’s quite a range of rock as well, some coming off as standards (Good Fortune, Big Exit, This Is Love), others showing a little sound experimentation (the neat dub overlays of The Whores Hustle And The Hustlers Whore), or going all-out ‘80s (Kamikaze). Other tunes show her acoustic side, and final track We Float has a dreamy indie pop thing going for it. Sounds like a Radiohead tune, if I’m honest, and is thus surprising it's not one of those Thom Yorke collaborations. Fine by me.

Bedouin Soundclash - Sounding A Mosaic

SideOneDummy Records: 2004

Yet another CD of which I knew nothing going in to. With a name of Bedouin Soundclash though, plus song titles like Gyasi Went Home, Music My Rock, Rude Boy Don’t Cry, and Immigrant Workforce, odds were ninety-seven percent I was dealing with reggae music of some form. And with the opening, jaunty refrains of When The Night Feels My Song confirming my assumption, I sat back to vibe on an album of sunny jimmy-jams. Yet as Sounding A Mosaic played out, something felt just a tad off. With a sparse arrangement consisting of little more than bass, guitar, and drums, it was clear Bedouin Soundclash wasn’t a traditional full-ensemble reggae band. More so, there was an undeniable ‘coddiness’ about these tunes. The music, the cadence, and the groove of vintage reggae were all there; but, y’know, kinda’ white at the same time.

Turns out Bedouin Soundclash hails from Kingston… Ontario. At this stage of the band’s career, it consisted of drummer Pat Pengelly, bassist Eon Sinclair, and singer-guitarist Jay Malinowski. Yeah, Malinowski’s about as white a name you can get, so my assumption wasn’t off-base. By no means does this detract from what this band does – plenty of great reggae music’s been made by folks that have little-to-no ancestry from the Isle Of Jamaican. There’s The Police, and… uh… all those dub reggae guys I go on about. And… um… Pst, former college kids who wore dreadlocks, help me out here.

I joke and kid, of course, Bedouin Soundclash having a decent amount of success to their name. Starting out in the ancient times of the year 2001 (look, its ancient now, deal with it), they self released their debut Root Fire to little fanfare. A couple years later they came out with this album, Sounding A Mosaic, which did substantially better, thanks to the strength of lead single When The Night Feels My Song. The tune landed them a Top 5 hit on the Canadian charts, and inexplicably a spot on the UK charts – then again, them British do love ‘em some ‘cod’. This momentum was enough to generate Platinum-level sales for the album in Canada, and while their follow-up album Street Gospels didn’t sell quite a well, it still peaked at number two on our music charts, and good enough for a Top 5 spot on the US Reggae charts. And having now learned of all their success, I feel kind of dumb for never hearing of Bedouin Soundclash before. Did I just not care about reggae a decade ago?

Not particularly, no, especially of this sort. There’s plenty tunes on here that are perfectly fine pieces of three-man reggae, though obviously nothing of the caliber I got from The Police. It’s the sort of music that’s fun to check out at a summer festival, preferably at a 2pm slot when you’re feeling nicely toasted. Aside from a couple remixes at the end though, Sounding A Mosaic is about as conventional as this music gets.