Kozo - Planned Penetration

Waveform Records: 2000

This has been an album that’s long intrigued me based on cover alone. Something about the saturated blues inexplicably tugs at a strange reservoir of nostalgic endorphins I did not know existed. Packed in a family Sedan at some point in the ‘70s, casually cruising a California suburb (or Okanagan road) in search of a place to rest in that brief period in dawn’s early blue-shifted light. I have no actual memory of such an event, not even an implied dream, yet the artwork on Kozo’s debut sparks such imagery within my brainpan just the same.

And that’s not all! Studying the cover a shade longer, a different form of brain matter sparkling starts flooding, that of musical expectation. Forget the lonely suburb street with the humdrum motel – take a gander at those power lines! Coupled with the color pallette, and I’m thinking all sorts of weird, experimental, glitch techno, or fuzzy Boards Of Canada weirdness. Now obviously, this being a release on Waveform Records, such could never be the case, but it intrigued me nonetheless. Who exactly is Kozo? What music might actually be contained behind that curious cover art? Do I really want to take a gamble on a CD from Waveform’s more ‘adventurous’ period, when there’s so much tried, tested, and true grooves found elsewhere within their catalog?

That, above all else, was the reason I held out on Planned Penetration for so long, unsure of what sort of leftfield vibes I might get with this album. But I’m slowly catching up with getting Waveform’s entire discography, so it was inevitable that Kozo would find its way into my collection (Liquid Zen next, finally?). And lo’, it was true there was something quite unexpected within his debut album, though I was not prepared for what awaited me within. For you see, Kozo Ikeno is a trumpeter extraordinaire, and boy does he let his skill shine on through.

Straight up, I am utterly clueless regarding the full scale of trumpet musicianship. I know of the jazz greats (Armstrong, Gillespie, Davis, Baker), but by no means have taken in much of their work. Thus, whether Kozo’s skill on the trumpet is comparatively ace or bunk, I simply don’t know. What I can tell you, is he alternates between open and muted playing (sometimes playing off each other), mostly with a distant, hall effect in place, and in a woozy way that at times sounds weirdly flat and dissonant. He also provides his own electro and acid jazz beats in support, very minimalist stuff with a few glitch stutters thrown in for good measure. At times it sounds pretty cool and otherworldly, like I’m lost in a drugged-up dream haze of a road trip gone awry.

Mostly though, I feel I’m missing something only true students of classic jazz would understand (and have I ever been skipping that class). Once I got used to what I was hearing, Planned Penetration did grow on me, but talk about your dashed expectations.

Segue - Over The Mountains

Silent Season: 2016

While Silent Season doesn’t have any particular core acts, there are a few producers who’ve frequently come back over the years. ASC’s practically made the label his second home now, while Purl, Shaded Explorer, and Edanticonf have contributed multiple times. One name that significantly sticks out for me, however, is Segue, as it was his album Pacifica that first drew my attention (that cover art!). It came out in 2013 though, when the Gospel Of Silent Season was thoroughly spreading out from the ranks of ultra, in-the-know dub techno disciples, so my crossing was inevitable. More interestingly, Segue was among the initial producers releasing material for the label’s 2007 netlabel launch – his Nostalgia EP ranks number two in catalog order. So, in a way, the adored dub techno print’s success might not exist without Segue’s help…? Yeah, that’s a stretch, but a fun little coincidence nonetheless.

Or maybe not, Jordan Sauer, the man behind the alias, originating from Vancouver. Makes sense then, the Silent Season posse would be familiar enough with his work to invite him over for a release or three. He’s floated about several labels since then, very little I’m familiar with (Sem Label, Dronarivm, Dtabloem), though he also had his own shared print in db (Duckbay). A fairly typical floater of a producer, all said, his most prolific output well in the past now. Guess Mr. Sauer was feeling a tad nostalgic for his homeland, returning to Silent Season once more, with an ode to those most rugged of West Coast terrains, the Coast Mountains. Sure, the Cascades get all the hype, what with their sexy volcanoes and geomorphic jewels (mm, Crater Lake…), but for pure, untamed alpine awesomeness, the Coastal Range is tough to beat our here in the West.

Some track titles will be instantly familiar to locals, though aren’t necessary to understand the music behind them. Sunshine Coast is all warm and fuzzy with glowing pads Boards Of Canada would swoon over, all the while a lazy hazy dub rhythm floats along. I know the folks around Gibsons are hippies (Green Party 4 lyfe), but maybe Sunshine Coast is a little too on the nose? Sea To Sky goes a similar dub route, spritely melodies sprinkling about as a heavy bottom end grounds the listener. Deep Valley has more a charming jaunt going for it, while Summits & Spires is almost a lullaby with its languid synths and deep dub. And hey, while you’re hanging out on these alpine glaciers, take in a little Aurora, opening Segue’s rich sound into a wide nightscape canvas?

I suppose the other tracks work for the setting, though they’re more generalized to any ol’ mountain range: Celestial, Exposure, Alpenglow. They too keep to Segue’s languid dub techno pace, though with the ample amount of local field recordings Jordan injects into his tracks (so much bird song in Exposure), it helps keep Over The Mountains firmly within British Columbia’s realm. Okay, maybe a little Cascadia too.

Halgrath - Out Of Time

Cryo Chamber: 2012

See, that was a decent little gap between Cryo Chamber releases, at least a week’s worth of time before returning to the dark ambient label once more. The Dread Year 2016, however, demands no less than two morbid musical offerings on my homepage at all times, and woe be unto thee who dare besmirch the Dread Year’s decree. All this suffering I’ve endured throughout the month of November? ‘Tis my penance for indulging a Summer Of Trance, seeking epic uplifting refuge from our dire times. Thus I will not taunt moody serious 2016 any longer, keeping as steady a stream of dark ambient as need be. I mean, I can’t afford to lose hearing in both ears, now can I?

Halgrath (or Agratha Mirrait, if you wish) was one of the earliest additions to Cryo Chamber after Simon Heath launched the label in 2012, back when the print was mostly a means of self-releasing Sabled Sun and Atrium Carceri material. Makes sense Mr. Heath would invite Ms. Mirrait over, as they both were featured on Cold Meat Industry before that seminal dark ambient label folded. In fact, Halgrath’s Arise Of Fallen Conception was among Cold Meat’s final releases. There’s a ‘from death, comes rebirth’ metaphor here, I just know it. Comes with this scene no matter where you go.

Out Of Time marks Halgrath’s debut with Cryo, featuring the sort of dark ambient I’d long associated with the genre as its default stylee. There’s bleak droning pieces (Down, Here, He Led Me Through The Dark Caverns), noisy industrial sonic attacks (Dark Dusty Corner, Lethal Injection, The Resistance), and meditative compositions drawing upon the occult for inspiration (Horoathea Mass Of Aegorath, Deep Underwater).

This last one makes sense hearing on this album, Halgrath having a background in opera – exploring aspects of Dark Ritual is part her whole manifesto. I mean, if an opening track of Summoning Of The Goddess wasn’t enough of a clue, I don’t know what to tell you. I was honestly surprised Out Of Time didn’t have more of that ethereal ambient going for it, offering more variety within its twelve tracks than most dark ambient projects offer in their whole discographies. We even get cinematic orchestral pieces (Follow Eternity, The Light Of The Earth’s Spheres) and melancholic piano dirges (We’ll Go Through Sorrow, Holding Each Others Hands). Pretty sure that’s every sub-category dark ambient indulges in, save outright nightmare-inducing field recordings, though I’m sure Halgrath could do that too if she wanted.

Out Of Time isn’t really the album for that. Seems the themes explored here are about souls lost in limbo, wandering between life and death, uncertain of where their hearts pull forthwith. Or is it about those who’d use a ritual to journey within limbo itself? Such is the narrative I get as this album plays out, each piece another step in going deeper into the nether-realms beyond our own. Aw, it ain’t that bad on this side, is it? *2016 lurks over shoulder*

Space Dimension Controller - Orange Melamine

Ninja Tune: 2016

I thought I’d have talked about Space Dimension Controller well before now, his Welcome To Mikrosector-50 a most pleasant surprise of an album when it came out in 2013. Then again, I thought I’d have nearly completed this massive listening project too, well passed the ‘W’s, and maybe even considering taking on the first few letters again for this blog’s completionist sake. Then again-again, I should have known more music would have come into my collector’s gravitational pull, sucked into my domain like so much cosmic detritus. My desire to consume everything and all knows no bounds, more insatiable than an unholy merger of Galactus and Unicron (Galacticron?). Good God, imagine if I could actually afford all that I wished to buy? I’d probably still be somewhere around the ‘G’s! (so much fabric, so much Global Underground)

Jack Hamill, the young man controlling all this space dimension, has kept a sporadic rate of output since first emerging with the moniker in 2009. R & S Records gave him his first major break in promoting his early singles and proper debut album, but he’s floated among a few other prints in the meanwhile too: Kinnego Records, Royal Oak, and now Ninja Tune. Whoa, talk of unexpected developments – what would the Ninja crew have in mind with a producer primarily focused on electro and loving nods to Detroitism?

Releasing the Space Dimension Controller archives, it seems. Orange Melamine unearths material from Jack Hamill’s teen years, back when he was still figuring things out about where he’d take his wayward muse in love with retro sounds. Seems the UK underground was just as much on his mind, as this album’s filled with jittery, post-dubstep beatcraft, a style Ninja Tune has shown plenty of interest in (at least, much more than R & S). In fact, Orange Melamine has a fair bit in common with all those influenced by Burial’s romanticism of clubbing days gone by, crackling hazy recollection of music from a fondly remembered Before Time. Rather than getting all misty-eared over UK garage and grime, however, Mr. Hamill has his muse set on retro-future sci-fi, as heard through the archaic crusty technologies of the 20th Century. For real, when I first heard The Bad People’s opening warbling distorted arps, I thought my headphone wire had a faulty connection!

Orange Melamine is a conflicting listen, one ear firmly in pulpy futurism, another in nostalgic fuzz, loosely held together with scratchy beats like so much sonic duct tape. Even the track titles flit between such sentiments - Adventures In Slime And Space, Multipass, Melting Velcro Shoes, Leader-1 (wait, the Go-Bots character?). Other times Mr. Hamill dabbles in simpler influences, like freak-out acid rave (Los Locos, Velvet Gentleman), pure electro funk (Gullfire), or Boards Of Canada trip-hop (Volvo Estate). It’s also all rather under-written compared to later works from Space Dimension Controller, but that’s unsurprising consider Jack’s age when making these. Definitely worth a playthrough though, if only for a different take on retro-future sounds.

Fear Factory - Obsolete

Roadrunner Records: 1998

How does one follow an album that creates an entirely new form of metal in the process - a unique genre cross-breeding with industrial while never losing sight of its thrash roots, and that few would or could replicate for years to come? By getting super-artistic, naturally, settling for nothing less than a high concept ‘rock opera’ opus, exploring ideas and expanding themes only touched upon in Demanufacture. Fear Factory would fully commit to an LP narrative, with a distinct Three-Act story, all the while pushing their songwriting abilities beyond the full-throttle intensity that marked their prior work – so many different time-signatures, mang! It would be bold, it would be unprecedented, it would challenge metal in daring, new- wait, are those record scratches in Edgecrusher? Oh no, it’s too soon to hop on the nu-metal bandwagon!

Obsolete (or ºBSΩLE†e, if you’re ace with your character map) was ambitious for a third recording effort, one that could have flopped had Fear Factory overreached their ability. Instead, the album would go on to be their best selling record, though clearly feeding off the positive buzz Demanufacture and touring generated (also, that cover of Gary Numan’s Cars, which obviously fit nowhere here). Things were definitely looking toppers for Fear Factory then, but a series of unfortunate incidents following Obsolete’s release put a serious grind on the band’s future prospects. Those are musings for another time though, if I ever review any of their albums between this and Genexus (not very likely).

The setting for Obsolete should be familiar to anyone clued into the band’s dystopian outlook, laying the future-shock stage plainly with opener Shock. Follow-up Edgecrusher gives us our protagonist – or antagonist if you’re cheering for the machine overlords – and aforementioned wiki-wikis aside, is a solid bit of groove-mosh. Stomp-thrasher Smasher/Devourer introduces us to the Edgecrusher’s foe, a police mech run amok (“you’re a loose cannon, Literal Walking Cannon!”), while Securitron (Police State 2000) gives us the ruling overseers keeping the rabble in check. All par for the course in this sort of tale.

The middle portion of the album gets into the society in revolt, ol’ Edgecrusher helping stoke the fires for freedom against humanity’s oppression from the robotic ruling class. This being Fear Factory, the titular cut doesn’t mince words in letting the silly homo sapien populus know their place in this strange forbidding world. Having original robot-fetish singer Gary Numan provide a digitized bit of opening dialog certainly helps sell that notion (hey, you already got him featuring in that Cars cover). Ol’ Edgecrusher seeks salvation of a sort in Resurrection, where the band’s propensity for grand theatrics soar high, ending the album on an uplifting, hopeful outlook for this ruined society.

No, wait, there’s one more track, Timelessness, a mournful dirge complete with backing orchestra (thanks, Rhys Fulber!). Seems our salvation was for naught, Edgecrusher captured and carted off to jail after all. Machinery always wins out in Fear Factory’s world. Resistance is futile.

Sound Of Ceres - Nostalgia For Infinity

Joyful Noise Recordings: 2016

It had to happen eventually, genre lines so blurred these days as to fool even studious record store clerks. Yet maybe shoegaze has come far along in its development that it’s abandoned all pretense of being part of the Rock Domain, more content hanging out with dorky ‘electronica’ folk. This may just be the new normal, stumbling upon ‘dream pop’ where I typically hunt for techno and jungle. Still sends a strange shiver over my shoulder though, music that once was out in the indie racks now sneaking into my unsuspecting ears.

Gads, what an incredibly narrow-minded take on music. What if there is something in shoegaze pop that could win me over? Hey, I don’t doubt there is, but it’s not high on my bucket list. Truthfully, I’d probably have never given Sound Of Ceres a chance if I had any prior knowledge of them, or even took a pre-listen in the shop, their tunes just not what I was after that sunny day in Seattle.

But nay, I went in blind, lured by the intriguing cover art and suggested promise of music with a cosmic bent. Such was the idea behind this particular band anyway, the genesis of Karen and Ryan Hover looking to expand their earlier dream pop work as Candy Claws into something grander. It certainly is that, Nostalgia For Infinity the sort of thickly layered shoegaze that’s instantly catchy to the ear, yet contains so many little details, there’s always something new to hear with each playback. Eh, that’s part of the Sound Of Ceres manifesto too? Ah yes, the concept of ‘five orbits’, as presented in the album’s liner notes, each sonic layer a descending orbit for the listener to traverse. I can’t tell if that’s artistically pretentious, or musically playful. All shoegaze is like this, isn’t it?

Still, it’s a concept I can buy into. At first impression, Sound Of Ceres does the dream pop thing as fine as I’ve ever heard (disclaimer: not a whole lot), with Karen’s wispy floating vocals almost subsumed by layers of reverb. I have to pay actual attention if I’m to decipher her lyrics, after which I start noticing finer details in the instrumentation (guitar tones, electro drum kits, field recordings, retro synths, plucky electronics). For the most part, it feels like I’m listening to a long lost slice of Boomer psychedelic pop, all the folksy Americana of Brian Wilson’s best work, but fed through an idealistic, introspective lens with modern production chops. Oh, and final track Dagger Only Run reminds me a lot of Gorillaz’ Empire Ants - very similar cascading synth arp between the two. Or is that just a dream pop staple regardless? I honestly don’t know.

Maybe one day I’ll learn all there is to know of this genre. For now though, Sound Of Ceres provided a pleasant diversion from my same ol’, same ol’. In fact, it came off too sunny for this particular month. Must return to next April.

Tiga - No Fantasy Required

Counter Records: 2016

For someone who seems primed for a glorious run wading through the pop charts, Tiga sure doesn’t like venturing there often. Every time he comes out with a new album with a couple instantly catchy club tunes radio stations wouldn’t have much problem playing, he retreats to the DJ circuit instead. Even after adopting a new live show in support of his third full-length No Fantasy Required, Mr. Sontag’s back to the relatively safe confines of rinsing out records on a regular basis. Not that I blame him for keeping to the scene that nurtured his rise from the early Montreal raves to globe-trotting stardom – the actual pop scene is a vicious, cruel mistress, more than capable of gnawing you to raw pulp before spitting you into a gutter. Tiga has no problem flirting with said mistress, but is wise enough to know any long-term engagement leads to more trouble than it’s worth.

Which in part explains the long wait between Ciao! and No Fantasy Required, seven years in the making. Mr. Sontag had definitely kept busy in the interim, releasing nine singles in that time. That’s almost enough for an LP right there, but only a few show up in this album, primarily the most popular of his quirky club anthems (Plush, Bugatti). Aww, no 100 with Boys Noize? Guess that one was too much of a one-off milestone to make sense in an album context. Also missing are a number of Audion collaborations (Fever, Let’s Go Dancing), but Matthew Dear lends his hand on a clutch of new tracks for No Fantasy Required anyway, so it’s a wash there.

I’m honestly surprised Dear’s serious approach to techno worked well enough with Tiga’s more playful style, 3 Rules’ goofy bounce as mischievous as anything Mr. Sontag’s done with Jori Hulkkonen. Less interesting is the Hudson Mohawke collaboration Planet E, the sort of moody acid cut with pitched-down vocals I honestly thought had gone by the wayside as of late. Really, the whole middle portion of No Fantasy Required drags with serious techno groovers, save a light, poppy deep house offering of Tell Me Your Secret where Tiga’s earnest singing shines wonderfully.

It’s these moments that serve No Fantasy Required best, highlighting Tiga’s ease with introspection even as nonsensical faux-posh ‘bugatti’ quips are what folks generally remember him for. The titular opener, Make Me Fall In Love, Don’t Break My Heart, and Blondes Have More Fun offer some of the deepest vibes ever heard on a Tiga LP, and stand in stark contrast to the motionless club tunes that eat up the album’s middle portion. Maybe it’s that Stuart Price factor.

Oh yeah, Price is here too, providing “Musical Assistance” to No Fantasy Required and Don’t Break My Heart. Talk about your ‘set pop stars retreating from the limelight all in together’ narratives! Like, I know The Thin White Duke kept busy with Pet Shop Boys, but you sure didn’t hear about it compared to those Madonna and Killers collaborations.

Perturbator - Night Driving Avenger

Blood Music: 2012/2015

The debut EP from Perturbator, self-released way back in ye olde age of early 2012 (before the dark times… before the Orange Emperor). Naturally, when Blood Music started reissuing his back-catalog, they went to bat with multiple limited-edition coloured records, a standard digipak CD, but no tape for this outing. Huh, guess that collector’s scene isn’t as obsessive as others if they can’t be bothered with singles. Why, back in my day, when tapes were all I could afford, I bought singles, absolutely. Okay, only a few – Bad Boys Blue’s Go Go (Love Overload), Intermission’s Piece Of My Heart, and 2 Unlimited’s Maximum Overdrive - but the market was there even in the waning days of commercial cassettes, so surely it exists in these waxing days of novelty cassettes. I’m honestly surprised Blood Music didn’t offer up a tape option for at least Night Driving Avenger.

I’ve also realized, despite having written three reviews of the chap, I haven’t delved much into James Kent’s pre-Perturbator fame. Right, there isn’t much to tell, but I’ve gotta’ burn some word count with a fresh angle, so here’s a few tidbits. He played guitar in various metal bands prior to adopting synths, which I can definitely hear in the way he constructs his tracks (lots of half-time bridges, which metal adores) - finally that Blood Music tie-in makes sense. His pop’s also apparently a well-known rock scribe, Nick Kent having written about punk music during that scene’s rise during the ‘70s, and publishing articles in all manner of respected rags (NME, Spin… Guardian?). Seems the Elder Kent also got into scuffles with some of punk’s icons, including Sid Vicious and Adam Ant. Hm, does this mean if James wants to live up to his father’s legacy, he’s gotta’ get it on with Simon Reynolds or Philip Sherburne? Okay, that’s enough.

Night Driving Avenger is a handy little primer into what the Perturbator style generally entails, each track touching upon his various types of songs. Opener Grim Heart does the moody, cinematic build, the sort of music you’d expect of credit sequence at the start of an ‘80s pulp film. Electric Dreams goes slower, synthier, and introspective. The titular cut ups the tempo into a pulse-pounding action thrill ride, and Miami Sunsets brings it all together into synth-pop’s realm as our hero/heroine rides off into a neon-soaked boulevard. Oh, plus a charming chiptune cover of Flock Of Seagull’s I Ran, called I Ran To The Arcade. Cute.

What isn’t cute, however, is the mastering on this EP. Dear Lord, but is there ever a lot of muddy side-chaining, with no dynamics to speak of. I know much of Perturbator’s music is generally brickwalled, but it usually adds to the gritty dystopian nature of his tunes. Not here though, the Young Kent clearly still figuring his way around production. Rather remarkable, then, he got the knack of it so quickly with later releases. Shame Blood Music didn’t give Night Driving Avenger a remaster though.

Martin Nonstatic - Nebulae Live At The Planetarium

Ultimae Records: 2016

Ultimae Records has put out a few live recordings in the past, but it’s not one of their main selling points. Even then, it’s mostly via the label’s second-tier acts, like Cell, Circular, and Scann-Tec. And even then-then, such releases are regulated to the digital-only realm, hard copies extremely rare. Their last live CD was H.U.V.A. Network’s Live At Glastonbury Festival 2005, released in 2010. Guess Ultimae was overdue for another regardless, but it feels odd they’d give Martin Nonstatic the honors, a relative new recruit to the French label’s ranks. Then again, it’s not like the print’s fielding a deep roster as of late, options for a ‘second-tier act live album’ exceedingly small. Heck, at this point, Martin’s practically part of the starting bench, one of the few artists with a full-length album out on Ultimae in the last few years.

Previous Ultimae live LPs featured recordings taken from festival performances, but Nebulae Live At The Planetarium comes from a more intimate setting. Aww, no crowd cheering ambience? Of course not, folks at the Zeiss Planetarium in Bochum, Germany likely far too tripped out on the dome projections, man. Unfortunate there isn’t an accompanying DVD video though, displaying the visual splendor of the event as the music within plays along. Then again, how can you replicate a planetarium projection at home? Clearly a typical TV or computer screen won’t cut it. Even a home projector doesn’t do justice, still reliant on flat surfaces like a wall or ceiling. And what about the lasers, man? Everyone knows a good electronic music show at a planetarium’s gonna’ have a far-out laser show. Eh, I’m not fussy, at least some YouTube clips of the event would suffice. No dice? *sigh*

Forget the visual aspect then. At least we’ll get to hear some nifty reinterpretations of Mr. Nonstatic’s tunes. Slight problem in selling that angle though, at least in my case: I honestly can’t recall much of his music. For sure I know I liked what I heard from his Ultimae debut Granite, and should I pop that album on again, I know I’ll enjoy his chilled-out, dub techno vibe just the same. As I mentioned in my review of that CD, however, very little of it sticks to my brain matter, and playing Nebulae back, I honestly didn’t notice any significant differences based on memory alone. I do have sparks of recollection in some songs – the low throb of Granite, the guitars of Distance B, the heavy dub of Out Of Silence - but aside from a more expansive mixdown benefiting a live planetarium show, I couldn’t tell you the difference between these and the album versions without side-by-side comparisons. Which I can’t say I’m interested in doing for this CD.

Really, I was hoping for more tunes from Martin’s back catalog, but ultimately Nebulae is just a remixed version of Granite. A fine downtempo, dub techno album for sure, but hardly necessary if you’re not interested in the sound.

Souls Of Mischief - Montezuma's Revenge

Clear Label Records: 2009

I always wondered what ‘Montezuma’s Revenge’ meant, figuring there was more to it than a kick-ass ride at Knott’s Berry Farm (The G-forces!! The G-forces!!). I thought it was fanciful Mexican folklore, the famed ninth Aztec emperor Moctezuma II arising from the dead to exact vengeance on the Spanish Conquistadors who killed him and murdered his people. So when I heard Souls Of Mischief had an album out of the same title, my first thoughts was something along those lines, except it was a case of indie, conscious hip-hop making its revenge upon the oversaturated ‘pop-rap’ of the time – everyone was bemoaning hip-hop’s death by the late ‘00s, after all. Then I discovered the general meaning of ‘Montezuma’s Revenge’ in today’s society, which yes, I admit, has eluded me all this time (count my blessings, yo’). Ah, now it all makes sense when asked about the title’s meaning, Tajai quipped, “The deeper meaning is the album will make you crap yourself.”

However you read it, Montezuma’s Revenge was seen as something of a rebirth for the Hieroglyphics foursome, their first album together after nearly a decade of simmering solo projects. A-Plus, Phesto, Opio, and Tajai didn’t have plans for a reconvention of their MC powers, but a passing Prince Paul expressed interest in working with the Oakland crew, which sounds like an all-star project the likes backpackers around the globe could only dream of. One of the preeminent producers of indie hip-hop paired with one of the most respected groups from the Golden Years, all hanging out in the same studio, unleashing all their potential creativity into a mega-reunion collaboration super-project! Or not.

I admit the Adrian Young project There Is Only Now spoiled me some towards what a Souls reunion could truly entail. For sure there’s nothing to find at fault with Montezuma’s Revenge, as the group sound as fine as they ever have, and Prince Paul handles the dials with sleek professionalism while throwing a few trademark quirks in for good measure. And when compared to what hip-hop was doing on the charts in 2009, the laid-back beats and witty verbal dexterity on display must have been a welcome respite for the old-school heads. It’s just, with all the players involved, one kinda’ hopes for a little more than what we got here. A new modern-classic rather than experienced vets giving us acceptable examples of their tried and true abilities. Even Prince Paul has a bit of a pisstake with it all, a guest “Mr. Freeman” calling into the studio telling the lads they need to drop that “old-school shit, son”. And indeed Souls Of Mischief would, after teaming up with Adrian Young for that new modern-classic everyone had been dying for since ’93 To Infinity.

Montezuma’s Revenge feels more like a warm-up to the Souls’ resurgence in the current decade, a trial-run before all the members embarked upon bold new territory. Lord knows they needed it, and Prince Paul was more than capable in lending a hand.