Vitalic - V Live (Original TC Review)

Play It Again Sam [PIAS]: 2007

(2017 Update:
Considering this was my first Vitalic review for TranceCritic (or ever for that matter), I'm surprised I didn't go heavier on the background info. Maybe I'd name-dropped him enough times prior to not need it? Eh, just as well that I didn't, this review already super bloated as it is. All the ranting, raving, and point-making I do regarding live album mixdowns could have easily been summed up in a few sentences, but for some daft reason, I go for a few paragraphs on the subject. Probably trying to cover my ass in defense of whatever counter-arguments could be made in favor of this CD, an obviously moot point now.

Interestingly, V Live was a limited-run release, of only five thousand "specimens". Considering many CD runs seldom crack the one thousand mark these days, I find that hilarious such a number is considered limited. Erm, I also don't have a physical copy of this, but I doubt I'd have to pay much to snag a copy if I really wanted one. Which I don't. Yeah, this hasn't held up at all, espcially now that Vitalic's added three more LPs to his resume since (called the date of the second one here!). I wouldn't mind hearing another stab at a live album from him though - fix the issues I had here, and we're good to go!)


IN BRIEF: Not OK, cowboy.

Vitalic has to be both the most exciting and the most frustrating new producer of this decade. In a time when fresh ideas are rare, Mr. Pascal Arbez-Nicolas has not only made an undeniable impact with his work, but double-lapped damned near everyone else in the process. His debut Poney EP will probably go down as among the most important singles of the 00s, and the follow-up album OK Cowboy kept his star firmly in place. Unfortunately for fans though, the Frenchman has an irritatingly sluggish output rate. True they say absence makes the heart grow fonder, and lord knows Vitalic’s followers salivate at every whiff of a new tune, but for someone who’s shown so much promise it’s almost criminal that Pascal has kept a cool head and resisted the temptation to release tracks en masse. At this rate, you’d think he was trying to mimic Leftfield’s career from the 90s (which means don’t expect a new album until about 2009).

Given his small discography, the idea of a live album seems odd. More so is the fact over half the tracks on here are either new or unreleased cuts, some of which have been specifically made for his live shows. While this sounds exciting on paper - fresh Vitalic material, live setting - I could not help but feel some slight apprehension going into this. The idea of a live album often revolves around hearing an artist’s material in a different context, which in itself is good stuff, but two problems all too often crop up in the process, and V Live falls victim to both.

Let’s address the most prominent one first: the mixdown. The whole point of recording something live is to capture the show as though you might be hearing it there in person. This includes the sound resonance of the club/hall/tent/stadium/field, appropriate crowd noise, and, the trickiest bit, the energy of the event itself. Any imbalance often creates a lackluster atmosphere - muddy music, for instance, or a lack of spectator presence reducing the whole ‘live’ aspect in the process; both seem to be a common fault of many a live rock release. It’s funny, then, that V Live suffers from the exact opposite problems.

Frankly, it sounds like Pascal recorded two sources: one somewhere in the middle of the crowd, and another directly in the main output. Then he apparently took the former master and gratuitously fiddled with the volume during the mixdown. The end result is music that is mostly computer clean, with crowd noise and hall reverb jumping in and out at extreme volumes throughout; at some points the cheers are the loudest thing you hear, other times it disappears into barely a whisper.

For the life of me I cannot imagine a hall as excitable as this one would get that quiet at key points of this concert, especially when in the early going pandemonium is likely with a mere pitch bend; their enthusiasm is borderline ridiculous. I’ll grant the killer cuts - La Rock 01 will forever kick like a kangaroo mule - but why on some of the lesser moments like, say, Follow The Car? It doesn’t seem to matter what Vitalic does, they’re just in awe of seeing the Frenchman live. This crowd would cheer if he banged on a keyboard for an hour. Probably.

No, their frequent absence in the final mixdown must be deliberate, and it makes for a live recording where you either find yourself lost among a sea of caners, or stuck in one of the monitor speakers. It’s disconcerting, and hardly an ideal representation of a live Vitalic show.

But who cares about all that so long as the tunes are mint, eh? After all, Pascal didn’t become the sensation he is by producing the odd gem with a bunch of mediocre wank to fill out his discography. So yes, La Rock 01, My Friend Dario, and newer cut Bells all deliver. However, they also deliver just as effectively on the albums or singles they were initially featured on and very little is done here to give them a fresh spin, which leads us to Problem #2.

Some of the most utterly bland live discs I’ve heard are often the result of hearing tunes that are near-identical to the versions heard on the original recordings. It’s fine and all to hear it while you’re actually there in concert - who doesn’t enjoy hearing their favorites played out, after all - but to have a similar rendition on yet another disc at home is redundant. If I’m going to pay money to have songs I already have, it’d better be significantly different or presented in a unique context. And there is little significantly different or unique in the way Vitalic performs his familiar songs on V Live. Honestly, I’ve heard several DJs make better use of his tunes than he does here.

What about all those new cuts though? Surely they’re worth picking this up for, right? Well, assuming you haven’t yet downloaded some set rips to hear them, mostly they’re effective club bangers containing a catchy Vitalic twist. Though none of them are quite at the level of some of Pascal’s highlights, Anatoles will probably be rubbing elbows with Poney Pt. 2 and No Fun on a ‘best of’ CD down the road. And besides, chances are you’ll be hearing the best cuts on future albums or B-sides to singles anyway. Unless you can’t possibly hold out for non-live versions of them, you’d be better off waiting and seeing rather than picking V Live up solely for these tunes.

This isn’t an entirely bad release but casual fans of Vitalic will undoubtedly come away underwhelmed. There are few surprises in Pascal’s set and the crowd unfortunately is more annoying than entertaining. Although it’ll probably still be some time before we see another full-length album from the Frenchman, V Live doesn’t have enough going for it to make this a worthwhile tide-over. When all is said and done, only completists will find long-term satisfaction with this.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2007. © All rights reserved

Alphaxone & ProtoU - Stardust

Cryo Chamber: 2017

Now this is a pairing I wouldn’t have expected. Come to think of it, I wouldn’t have expected Alphaxone to pair up with anyone, beyond the now-obligatory yearly Cyro Chamber ‘Old Ones Tribute’ jamboree. He’s worked in conjunction with other dark ambient folks on thematic compilation albums, specifically Tomb Of Empires and Tomb Of Seers, but those are still solo outings from Mr. Saleh, merely contributing a piece of music for those particular projects. Lord Discogs tells me this is his first true collaborative effort though; across any alias he’s had this past half-decade. Maybe he’s done others even The Lord That Knows All doesn’t know about, but I kinda’ like Stardust being his first for a simple reason: it fits a narrative!

In case you missed all those Alphaxone reviews I did last year, there’s been a slow, steady conceptual migration in his works from terra firma to the great beyond above. Well, after leaving some alternate dimensions filled with graylands and some-such. However, it’s lonely in space [citation needed], so now that he’s finally out among the stars, perhaps a little company was called for. Enter ProtoU, fresh off her work exploring Southeast Asian crypts, joining in on a little solar surfing. I’m not sure how Ms. Cats knows Mr. Saleh, but I imagine after those Cryo Chamber Collaboration epics, a few emails were exchanged for future reference.

As the name implies, Stardust is a space ambient outing, and surprisingly not so bleak as the dark practitioners of this sub-genre go. For sure it’s got its fair share of isolationist drone, tracks like Sub Signal, Consumed, and Observing Quasars doing the ‘cosmic emptiness’ thing you’ll typically hear in this field. It’s tempered with subtle melodic passages though, plus a surprising amount of field recordings lurking just out of hearing range. Even the latter two tracks of the ones I just listed provide some synthy tonal counter-balance to the atonal nature of space drone, music that feels just as in awe of its surroundings as it does meek and insignificant. Nicely captures the whole ‘we’re all star-stuff’ notion, despite so often confounded by such implications.

If anything, this album feels less about exploring the cosmos at large (something of a daunting task), and rather chilling out on some fringe of civilization, far from contact but not impossibly alone. There’s still star-gazing going down, but more like being at an outpost, or remote colony, pushing the boundaries of our cosmic influence. Hence a track like Planemo Dreams, a lonely track with rainfall/static for sure, wiling the time away on some far-flung dwarf or rogue planet. Counter to that is Versus, which features the cosmic drone, yet also has tweeting birds, and an almost positive twist by track’s end. Then at the conclusion of Stardust, Alignments goes synthy old-school, and Returned’s drone gradually turns into brighter pad washes before fading out into static. Whatever this mission was, it’s safe to assume it’s accomplished. How remarkably upbeat for a dark ambient release.

Dronny Darko - Spira Igneus

Cryo Chamber: 2016

Sure enough, about the same time I get to one of Dronny Darko’s latest albums on Cryo Chamber, he goes and releases an even newer one. I’m constantly behind the eight-ball on Mr. Puzan’s output, forever chasing, never first out of the gate. Yeah, yeah, that’s all due to the stipulations I place upon myself going through new music, but it feels strangely coincidental this keeps happening. About the same time I was catching up with his prior LPs of Earth Songs and Neuroplasticity, he put out a collaborative work called Rites Lost on Sparkwood Records. I suppose if I hadn’t been so lax on reviews this year, I’d have gotten this particular review for Spira Igneus out about the time his other recent collaborative effort with Ajna came out, Black Monolith (ooh, a double-LP is it?). But as it stands, I’m reviewing Spira Igneus as Abduction has hit the streets. Thus concludes my convoluted method of bringing y’all up to speed on Dronny Darko’s musical endeavors since last we saw of him on this blog (almost a year ago!).

As with Outer Tehom, Spira Igneus is the sort of dark ambient most folks associate with the genre: moody, creepy, something something occult. Far as I can tell though, the idea of ‘spira igneus’ is a wholly unique concept, not drawing upon any specific piece of obscure folklore. My very, very rough Latin translates this as ‘the fiery tower’, or something to that effect, which shouldn’t be a surprise given there’s an actual tower on the cover of this album. The art kinda’ reminds me of the end of The Neverending Story, when The Nothing has consumed all of Fantasia, save the Ivory Tower, though in this case, it looks like even the lair of The Childlike Empress isn’t such the beacon of hope as in that movie portrayed.

And damn straight Spira Igneus is all sort of crushing, suffocating bleakness as only the most classic dark ambient goes. Mostly it’s of the minimalist droning sort (of course), with added sounds and effects complementing a particular track’s theme. Opener Scriptures has chants lurking in the shadows, as does Three Rulers, though even more indistinct here. Rotten Orchestra sadly doesn’t feature any cacophonic instrumentation, but does bring machinery hum and clankery to the mix. Endless Cave holds low throbs and plonks as though mimicking endless echoes in deep caverns. Grey Echoes has echoes of their own, though emerging like shrieks penetrating the relentless drone, such that even its omnipresent tone recedes in fear. The ‘big’ track on here, ten-minute long Forbidden Wisdom, comes off like a trip through your own psyche, slowly losing yourself as though you’re overwhelmed by whatever unholy secrets the spira igneus keeps closely guarded. Ol’ Dronny definitely knows his way around some warped soundscapes.

As an aside, I’m continually fascinated by his construction of ‘perfect minute’ tracks that never feel too short or long. That’s some serious dedication to self-imposed constricts within one’s craft. I should know.

Fjäder - Shades Of Light

Shaded Explorations: 2016

I forget how I stumbled upon this. For sure it was via a Bandcamp link, but given my conservative excursions through the website, it wasn’t intentional. Perhaps it’s because Shades Of Light came out on a label called Shaded Explorations. It just so happens that I did a review for Shaded Explorer this past half-year, and some Bandcamp Googling for the latter may have accidentally led me to Ms. Fjäder instead. I do recall, however, that the moment I saw the CD packaging displayed, I was intrigued; a black cover with an intricate cut-out, and a simple cardboard sleeve slipped inside. It’s always nice when hopelessly underground artists take extra care in crafting their ultra-limited run hard copies. A very quick sampling of the music confirmed Shades Of Light was at least electronic, so I took the gamble and waited for the goods to arrive for audio consumption.

And this… I wasn’t expecting this. Something dubby and ambient, sure, as the brief clips I played suggested as much. But ethereal dub techno with live instruments? (Pianos! Voices! Strings! oh my) Is this even a thing? I feel like this should be a thing, but I can’t say I’ve come across anything like Fjäder’s music before.

The lass behind the moniker, Ida Matsdotter, has been making music for a few years now, her most prominent bit of exposure coming at the tail-end of a 4CD M_nus box set titled Enter.Ibiza 2015. Cool that she got to rub shoulders with the likes of Slam, Beltram, and the Plastikman himself on that particular set from TM404, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she went overlooked regardless. Still, a couple more appearances on various compilations, podcasts, and the odd single has given her a decent start in the world of techno, thus we now arrive for Album Time with her debut of Shades of Light.

Opener Yellow Cosmic Sun is a beatless, dubby, droning piece with various strings and vocal snippets fed through heavy, throbbing effects, feeling more of a meditative outing than something intended for club use. Second track तूफान केंद्रअ (Google translate tells me this is Hindi for ‘eye of the storm’) brings in ethereal chants coupled with a marching rhythm that sounds like it’s being dropped into digital water. World beat with a dub techno twist? I can dig it.

The one consistent element I’m hearing throughout Shades Of Light is no genre fusion is off limits, a remarkable strategy considering dub techno’s staunch, stuffy traditionalism. There are a couple examples of that deep, minimalist, rolling warehaus thump in tracks like Abyss and Dragonfly, but elsewhere Fjäder breaks those beats up into something more akin to experimental trip-hop (Talk To You, twelve-minute long Vintergatan). There’s ethereal ambient (Shades Of Light), crushing drone ambient (Venus), and feedback-fuzz ambient (Hjärtans Fröjd). I also quite like that she isn’t afraid to manipulate her voice to such a degree it’s almost unrecognizable from other layers of timbre. No ego here, my friends.

EDM Weekly World News, May 2017

Happy Valentines Day. What do you mean it's not? We sure are selling the same amount of flower bouquets. You've never seen so many buggies filled with blossoms! As for the tragic events of this major bone-breaking news, like the murder-spree of a few years past, I'm sure these living jukeboxes will make a full recovery. Not so sure about their mixing 'skills' tho', but that hasn't stopped them from having headline careers yet.

ASC - No Stars Without Darkness

Silent Season: 2016

I guess if I wanted to know what an ASC album on Cryo Chamber would sound like, I now have my answer. Or maybe …txt, No Stars Without Darkness not exactly a dark ambient album. It sure is lonesome though, feelings of stark melancholy permeating the mood as one looks upon an endless night sky, feeling hopelessly remote from every grand tapestry the cosmos closely guards behind an opaque veil. It’s not a vibe I’m accustomed to hearing with Silent Season, is what I’m getting at. Passages of reflection, sure; dubbed-out drone is part of the label’s manifesto, and few things get you lost up in your own brainpan better than infinite layers of pad and timbre. I seldom get a sense of suffocating isolationism though. Like, it’s fine to take a solo hike through damp, coastal old-growth, but Van-City remains a few kliks away.

This one though, there’s just a little more isolationism, a little more bleakness in the void ASC is painting here, even going by track titles alone. Idyll Of Sorrow, All Come To Ruin, Nothing More To Give, Elegy For An Empty Shell …not the most cheering of themes here, and the music doesn’t liven the mood either.

Sorrow features mournful pads and down-trodden melodies as impossibly distant whispers penetrate the somber tone. A Moment Alone does the abstract, cosmic drone thing that wouldn’t sound out of place on an Alphaxone album. Ruin treads closer to a calming ambient vibe, though is so drenched in overdubs, it’s about as soothing as the stuff Aphex Twin offered on SAW II. Silence and Waning Hours add minute melodic content, acoustic guitar strums penetrating the desolation. And after eight tracks of oppressive drone, The Promise In Your Lies opts for a quieter piece to finish on, though no less spacious and vast in soundcraft, like you cannot help but forever keep staring upward in the futile hopes of seeing more stars in the infinite black above.

No, seriously, it can’t be done. I know what you’re thinking: it’s paradoxical that we can’t see all the stars if they’re all up there, right? That’s the crux behind Olbers’ Paradox, after all. Well, there’s a reason space appears as black as it does. First off, the universe is big [citation needed], light taking time to reach us, some stars so distant that their photons will never strike our planet. This is due to the universe’s expansion, such light typically red-shifted across the electromagnetic spectrum from our vantage point, much of which is shifted so far, it’s beyond our visible range of sight. Interestingly, at the longest wavelengths (microwaves), the cosmos does light up as though it was filled with infinite stars – it’s called the Cosmic Microwave Background. With our limited visibility though, we’re stuck seeing only the closest stars (cosmic dust doesn’t help either), universal expansion blinking ever more out of our view. At some point, there won’t even be stars in the darkness. And that gives the sads.

Kolhoosi 13 - Monuments Of Power

Cryo Chamber: 2016

*we now return to EMC’s series premiere of Cryo Chamber Idol, where budding dark ambient artists hope to win a deal with Simon Heath’s ever growing print*

Heath: “We have room for another act that deals with decaying civilizations. What’s your angle on this concept?”
Contestant 12: “We’re the Far-Flung Sons Of Camden Town. And we got… DEAD CITIES!”
Heath: “Yes, that’s what I’m after, but what’s your unique pitch?”
Contestant 12: “DEAD CITIES!”
Heath: “You just said-“
Contestant 12: “DEAD CITIES! D..E..A..D C..I..T..I..E..S.. D…..E.....A…..D…..C…..I…..T….I….E….S….”
Heath: “O-kay. Metal might be your thing instead. Who’s next?”
Contestant 13: “So, you know how all these post-apocalypse Hellscapes are set in the future, after the end-times? Well, how about a project where we put the listener at the cusp of everything falling about?”
Heath: “That’s kinda’ what Cities Last Broadcast implies in his name though.”
Contestant 13: “Yeah, but did he actually deliver on that?”
Heath: “Hm, not really. At least, not with the album we got, what with all that séance business and all.”
Contestant 13: “Right! But we got your back on this one!”
Heath: “Alright, sure. It’s lunch anyway, and I’m hungry.”

As for the name Kolhoosi 13, time to brush up on my Finnish. Seems this refers to Soviet communes (kolkhoz), where State-supervised peasant farming took place across the Eastern Bloc, with many kolhoosi granted autonomy after a time. Not so harsh as the gulags then, but no picnic in the summer either. It invokes a simpler, yet harsher time in Europe’s history, a product of a bygone era from a failed state. Unless, of course, society crumbles and we’re reduced to feudal tillage once more. As for the ‘13’, I’m not sure where that comes from. Maybe the chaps behind this project, Niko Salakka and Juho Lepistö, simply felt it had a nice ring to it coupled with ‘kolhoosi’.

Monuments Of Power is their debut album (natch'), and according to Lord Discogs, their debut anything. For the past couple years, Kolhoosi 13 have gone around gathering field recordings, looking for common themes in their samples, and found a fascination with mankind’s ode to the infrastructure that’ll outlast our hubris. At least, that’s the gist I’m getting from this album of almost pure drone.

The opening track, From Comradery To Sustenance, is quite effective in putting you in the middle of a war-ravaged area, scurrying and scuttling about crumbling ruins as mortar shells bombard areas far away, yet too close for comfort. And yet the distant sound of war is surprisingly comforting, as there’s little sign of humanity after that. Sometimes the clank of automated machinery and low thrum of churning engines accompany your haggard travels through an industrial wasteland, but there’s almost no music to nurture the soul here. This is ambient drone stripping away any vestiges of hope for a future, save those who find glory in our brutalist architecture.

MO-DU - MOD01

Mata-Mata Records/...txt: 2015/2016

No, not Mo-Do, though I wouldn’t mind reviewing that charmingly cheesy Italian eurodance act at some point either. Come on, you already have Eins, Zwei, Polizei playing in your head at the mere mention of it. Their lone album of Was Ist Das? can’t be going for more than a buck or two on the used Euro market now. Maybe I should look into that.

But no, this is MO-DU, a side-project of Moduretik. Or maybe a new project, since the man behind it, Jan Jiskra, hasn’t put out any new Moduretik material for a few years now, save a retrospective in 2016. As Moduretik, he put out a few albums on micro-label Bleeder Ear of way-retro sounding darkwave tunes. It’s all rather under-produced, which I have no doubt is the point, capturing the messy vibe of musicians inspired by synth-pop of the early ‘80s, but trapped in the Eastern European bloc. Gotta’ make do with whatever gear you can grab, and get that stuff out on the streets of Prague while you can, before militsiya surrogates come a knockin’. There’s a punky, romanticism about it, which may be somewhat fabricated, but that doesn’t stop modern musicians from making tributes and odes to the era.

Then ol’ Jan tried his hand at another form of obscure European electronic music of those free-wheelin’ years, kosmische Musik, pairing up with Adam Holub as Neden, resulting in a self-titled album (on vinyl!). Jiskra must have been inspired by that session, as he didn’t wait around for Holub for another round of music making, striking out solo for more of that Berlin-School stylee as MO-DU. He’s released two albums now under the moniker, essentially self-released on his Mata-Mata Records print, with the first LP already out of print (because tapes). Somewhere along the way, Lee Norris stumbled upon it (was sent a demo?), because now we have a re-issue of MOD01 on ambient print …txt. What a strange journey this has been for Mr. Jiskra.

Stranger still, this album doesn’t sound like a pure ‘70s throwback, at least compared to Jan’s work as Moduretik. For sure the equipment used keeps things in that warm, analog era of electronic music, but the songcraft feels more of the ‘90s brand of ambient techno. Heck, opener Scoloyd wouldn’t have been out of place on Boards Of Canada’s last album, though to call MO-DO a Boards clone is quite a disservice, as there’s none of the trip-hoppy beats the Scottish duo are known for.

Nay, Mr. Jiskra keeps his rhythms as faithful to the old-school as he can, whether it’s clip-cloppy beats in Hangaduga, Sorson, and Kapusta, or something closer to synth-pop as in Asitrea. Elsewhere, he lets pulsing modulations and dubby effects act as his guide (Hicarn), or opts for the gentle ambient glide (Boditanka, Tongo, Ubitanka). It reminds me of the stuff those way underground ambient techno labels of the ‘90s would put out (hi, em:t!). Ah, no wonder this ended up on …txt.

Mick Chillage - (M)odes

Carpe Sonum Records: 2016

And yet another ambient album. What, is May gonna’ be The Month Of Ambient from now on? Don’t be silly. We’ve already had two non-ambient albums thus far, and following this, I count at least… um, hm. Well, a couple in the current backtrack queue that are half-ambient, so at least one fullish LP’s worth. It just so happened the comparatively scant items I bought over the winter were mostly of the chill sort, focusing on my primary preferences as I reeled in my spending habits. Once we get down to the ‘V’s though, we’ll start seeing more variety again, where the ratio of downtempo and ambient albums only constitute around… half of them? Ooh, but look – metal!

Enough side-tracking. Let’s get back to what’s important, yet another ambient album up for review. This one comes from Mick Chillage, whom we last saw on this blog over a year ago when I touched upon his Tales From The Igloo debut and remix album. The Irish native has been quite busy since then, the year 2016 seeing him release three albums, a mini-album, not to mention five LPs with Lee Norris as Autumn Of Communion, plus a triple-LP this year, if you want to designate a memory stick album as such.

How should we indentify album length in that format anyhow? Used to be was by the runtime of available physical medium. What was considered a double-LP in the age of smaller vinyl could easily fill a standard CD – thus an LP, once considered anything around thirty to forty minutes, was now extended all the way to eighty minutes, with double-LPs now anything beyond that mark. With albums potentially boundless in the digital age, there could technically be infinite-LPs, though it seems we still stick with however many pieces of physical medium they take up, whether CD, tape, or vinyl. But the use of USB sticks as a physical medium has thrown this convention totally out the window! All we can go by now is runtime length, with the traditional ‘fifty-to-seventy minute LP’ being a rough barometer in gauging an album’s official LP designation. Or maybe it’s time to throw all “ep, lp, lmnop’ standards to the dustbin of dated, obsolete terminology. What strange, uncharted worlds albums find themselves on the precipice of.

Alright, enough rabbit-hole side-tracking. (M)odes is a fairly standard LP of ambient music from Mick Chillage. The opening track Nico’s Gate uses some field recordings that sounds like we’re at construction site in the middle of the night, which serves as a rhythmic backbone as lengthy passages of pads and pianos play out. Midnight Mist, Suspended Thoughts, and Microscopic go for the bleepy minimalist ambient stylee that’ll get your Fax+ triggers going, while We Are Light goes old-school Iasos on our earholes. Closer Visitors adds a dubby beat to its ambient timbre, which makes me wish there were more moments like this throughout (M)odes to break up the ambient monotony. Still, gotta’ love those Chillage textures.

Phonothek - Lost In Fog

Cryo Chamber: 2016

Yes, I'm still astounded that Cryo Chamber keeps unearthing unique artists that must satisfy whatever micro-niche taste one might have. How does that selection process go, though? I mean, a dark ambient label that’s gained an impeccable reputation in such a short time must get sent demos constantly now, budding artists looking to make their mark with Simon Heath’s blessing. I can imagine it almost turning into American Idol:

Heath: “What sort of dark ambient do you make?”
Contestant 1: “I make cold, wintery music, like you’re traversing the Arctic.”
Heath: “Sorry, already got one of those. Next.”
Contestant 1: “No, wait, I meant ANT-arctic!”
Contestant 2: “Haha, too late. So yo’, check it, Sabled Sun, m’man! I’m all about that bleak, future-shock dystopia sound too.”
Heath: “Why would I add another artist that makes music like myself?”
Contestant 2: “’Cause – and this’ll blow your mind – it’s from the perspective of the Star Wars universe, man!”
Heath: “That… might be too specific for what we do here. Wait, aren’t you MC Chris?”
Contestant 2: “Uh, …no?”
Heath: *sigh* “And you, sir, what unique angle might you bring to Cryo Chamber?”
Contestant 3: “I play a trumpet.”
Heath: “Ooh, do tell!”

I wouldn’t go so far as to say the trumpet is Phonothek’s defining characteristic, but it’s certainly the first time I’ve heard it so prominently used in a dark ambient project. From what I gather, there’s a whole sub-set of ‘industrial jazz’ or ‘doom jazz’ out there, which doesn’t surprise me in the least. Jazz musicians gotta’ try every form of genre fusion they can.

Phonothek is primarily the brainchild of George from Georgia (oddly, I can’t find a last name for him), with a musical assist from his wife Nina. He has an orchestral background, and while the trumpet is his main sonic weapon of choice, he doesn’t rely on it, only half the tracks on this debut album of Lost In Fog making significant use of it. For the most part, Phonothek does the modern classical thing with ample instrumentation and digital manipulations, but in a loose, freeform, jazzy sort of way. This makes it quite the fun headphone album (those ping-pong sounds!), though a 5.1 system should do you fine in a pinch.

There doesn’t seem to be any particular theme with Lost In Fog other than weird, abstract music making for its own sake. When the trumpet playing does lead (Heavy Thoughts, Old Swings, Lost In Fog), it creates a melancholic mood, almost right out of a noir film. Some tracks use discordant strings or sampled voices to create unease (Last Train), sometimes it’s traditional piano (Dancing With The Ghosts), others chopping up synth pad and droning passages such that they seemingly play out of sync, yet flow together regardless (Something Happened). Meanwhile, Clown Is Dead goes from creepy to forlorn to positively strident with its ethereal marching. Yes, Phonothek has made ‘ethereal marching’ a thing, though wasn’t that Dead Can Dance’s thing too?