Cell - Live At Kumharas (Ibiza - June 2006)

Ultimae Records: 2007

This is what I'm talking about, a perfect confluence of factors slowly chipping away at my decade-old “Buy MP3 Iz Bad” manifesto. I've been jonesing for more music from Cell since the collaborative effort Connect.Ohm with Hybrid Leisureland. That was way back in 2012, half a decade now past, and Alexandre Scheffer's been most quiet since. So I must turn to his older material to get a fix, but where does that leave me? An out-of-print, over-expensive debut album of Phonic Peace, and a trio of live recordings, only one of which made it to CD. Ultimae Records though, they released Live At Kumharas as a digital-only option in 2007, when such exclusive formats were still relatively uncommon. As such, I never thought to check it out, but what's this? Ultimae's having a Bandcamp discount? Gee, I already have all the CDs available. Maybe just this once, I can indulge a digital-only release. It's not like this will become a common occurrence. (Narrator: “It became a common occurrence.”)

Really though, Live At Kumharas is basically a sophomore album released under the Cell banner. Every tune in this seven-track selection remains exclusive to these sessions, none appearing prior on Phonic Peace, nor later on Hanging Masses. Some did appear on other live albums released in this period, but as this one carries the Ultimae seal of approval, I'll count Live At Kumharas as the official representation of these particular tunes. Now, jack this music straight into my ear-veins!

Ahh, that's the Cell stuff I've been craving. The psy-chill vibe that's as class as any Solar Fields production, but with a smart sense of restraint, never shooting for the Big Obvious Feels. The Gate has some tasteful tribal drumming to go along with its subtle synths and arps. Above The Clouds gets funkier with the beatcraft and gnarly acid touches while providing uplifting melodies in the background. Misty Morning works in Balearic field recordings as it slowly builds from blissy ambience to laid-back prog-psy grooves – at over thirteen minutes, it definitely has time to stretch things out. Elsewhere, Under The Sun reminds me of an upbeat version of Cell's sublime Blue Embers.

The best shit, however, is in the final stretch of tunes. Right, a 'live set' is supposed to work like that, though this isn't really presented as a pure live set, fades and blends between tracks rather than maintaining a continuous flow. Where was I?

T-Ion (Part II) does a more traditional prog-psy thing, though in the dubby Ultimae way that made them such darlings of the psy-chill scene in the mid-'00s. Hawaii Transit goes even better, including one of those earwormy rhythmic dub throbs you ache to hear return right on cue. Closer Shiny Girl breaks ranks in throwing down with the world beat crowds (we'll find those pyramids yet!), but is a fun capper on this album. If this all sounds rather energetic for a Cell album, well, what did you expect from a live setting?

Liquid Zen - Liquid Zen

Waveform Records: 1999

I wonder if I'd have been so appreciative of Waveform Records' genre explorations had I kept following the label at the turn of the Millennium. Mind, part of the problem was my lack of access to their catalogue, stuck in the hinterlands of Canada, too young to 'Order With Credit Card' off the internet. I didn't even know if they were still releasing albums, and even if I did, would I have been as interested anymore? The names that drew me into Waveform were no longer around, and as a dude with limited funds, couldn't take willy-nilly chances on any ol' CD. Yeah, Waveform had exposed me to some of my all-time favourite musicians right out the gate, but no way they could have kept such a streak going, right?

Perhaps it was fortunate that when I finally did dip back into the label's output, it was with the sublime Omnimotion debut, because if it had been Liquid Zen instead, hoo boy, might I have wondered where Waveform was going. For sure it looks intriguing enough, a stark black cover with a blue neon ring the only source of light. The CD within is darn cool too, a deep blue that probably glows brilliantly in blacklight (I assume, I don't have one) – kinda' reminds me of the colour scheme used by that Wave Forum compilation. Makes one wonder if the Waveform was aware of it...

Then the first track Ultraviolet plays, and it's a nearly ten-minute long trip through downbeat ambience, with wide-screen dub, trippy flourishes, and ancient synths, coming off like a composition intended for an '80s space documentary. Cool, and certainly within Waveform's scope, but then second track Claiming Salvation hits, and it has jazzy overtones, opiod-dub, and lyrics like “Crystal kerosene, drips from your dainty fingertips.” Ah, we're doing trip-hop, then? Nope, third track Painter's Stroke Begins featuring cavernous, cold reverb, slinky synth-pop melodies, and muted spoken dialog like “Crucify beads and petals fall, the leaves broken through autumn's call.” Did I miss something, when did Liquid Zen turn into a 4AD outing?

And the genre jumping doesn't relent. Harold Atom is practically a psychedelic rock jaunt, but with acid replacing guitar jamming. Distant Fading Light actually brings in some fuzzed-out guitar tones. Kateri reaches deep into the well of Tangerine Dream synth noodling. Blown Away sounds like it could be a chill tune in a coldwave album, complete with bitter wind effects. Something is something alright, simple electro rhythms complemented with restrained Gothic melodies. A couple tracks do fit the Waveform mould, like the ambient dub of Starless and closer Forever Infinity, though even here with Liquid Zen's unique aesthetic. It's like if '90s Beck had somehow been roped into the psy-dub scene.

I can guarantee had I heard this new, I'd be questioning Waveform's future. In the here and now, however, I appreciate the label's willingness to give such an unknown quantity a chance. It's good having your comfort zones shaken every so often.

Dido - Life For Rent

Arista: 2003

Dido already had a decent run of solo success by the year 2000. Even in an overstuffed '90s market of lady singer-songwriters, she managed a couple minor hits, not to mention an association with her big brother's super-mega popular club band Faithless didn't hurt her prospects either. Then her career went meteoric when Eminem sampled the charming ditty Thank You for an all-time classic cut in Stan. Not only did it break Dido to an entirely untapped young American demographic, but their moms too, who couldn't stand that potty-mouthed rapper but constantly inquired their sons about that one track with the catchy chorus. No joke, I had middle-aged women coming in my music shop buying The Marshall Mathers LP just for that Dido chorus alone. Fortunately for them, we soon 'found' a whole album of Dido music for them to enjoy, without all those gay-bashing, pop-celebrity slamming, girlfriend-murdering antics.

So No Angel went on to be a platinum-selling album in many countries, which naturally left expectations for her follow-up album sky-high. She smashed it, Life For Rent hitting the number one spot in several countries, lead single White Flag her best selling song by a mile (well, technically Stan is, but y'know). Honestly though, I think Ms. Florian Cloud de Bounevialle O'Malley Armstrong lucked out a little, filling in the lady singer-songwriter gap that had emerged after many Lilith Fair alum had significantly retreated from the spotlight by 2003. There was still a market for light, folksy brunch-pop, just not as large as before. Might as well indulge in that UK lass who did the Thank You song – that White Flag is catchy enough, so the rest of Life For Rent should be just as good.

While I've enjoyed her contributions to Faithless tunes and whatever other projects her bro' Rollo's up to, I've only taken a passive interest in Dido's solo music. Maybe it's just how overplayed her hit singles ended up (dear Lord, was White Flag ever abused through the mid-'00s!), but I never felt the need to dig further into her album material. That said, I cannot deny some curiosity in how Rollo's production would translate into the folk-pop arena. The chap's always had a flair for the dramatic, but was equally capable of dialing things back for proper chill moments too. And there's plenty of examples of his touch in Life For Rent.

Yes, Dido's lyrics and guest guitarists generally take centre-stage (including Rick Nowels, Adam Zimmon, and Dave Randall). Scope out those dubby Balearic touches in Stoned though! Or the gentle, sweeping pads in See You When You're 40. Or the cavernous sonic depth in the mini-breakdown in Do You Have A Little Time. Or the trip-hop flourishes in Who Makes You Feel. Sand In My Shoes even has a minor, clubby build, though that's likely Sister Bliss' additional production at play. I know these aren't the things I'm supposed to focus on in a Dido album, but old habits, y'know?

Namlook • Montanà - Labyrinth 5

Fax +49-69/540464: 2012

The 2-Channel Stereo mix? Yeah, it's pretty dope, especially when I have my trusty Sennheiser cans on. Sounds are nicely spaced apart, well layered, pan from side-to-side as warranted, fade in the distance when called upon. I dunno though, I feel like I'm missing out on a critical component in how this is supposed to sound in DTS 5.1 Surround, as Namlook and Montanà envisioned their compositions while jamming away in Pete's studio. Or maybe the standard stereo is the proper take of Labyrinth, and the 5.1 is just a nifty (expensive) bonus for those with cutting-edge audio gear available. The technology is still rather niche, after all, only hardcore audiophiles having much interest or means of experiencing it, especially when most music is still released as 2-Channel stereo. Maybe if earplug and laptop speaker technology advances to such a degree that 5.1 is universally achievable, then we'll see more 5.1 masterings. Until then, music production should do as 3D does for home movies: it's there to utilize, and maybe the flick makes some cool use of it, but it shouldn't be a requirement for a 'full experience'.

So here we are, already at the end of the Labyrinth series, cut entirely too short by Pete Kuhlmann's passing. Who knows whether he and Lorenzo would have continued doing these at the same rate, but I've no doubt they'd still be making these to this date if they'd had the chance. Mr. Montanà's proven to be a prolific producer himself, and whenever Namlook found a New Best Music Buddy, he'd ride that creative synergy forever and a day. Unless ol' Pete got himself a different New Best Music Buddy, we could have been up to Labyrinth 10 now.

As it stands though, Labyrinth 5 is the last, and a solid final entrant it is. For one thing, no weird, off-putting acid bassline noise! (yeah, still can't get over it) The opening Path XXXII works a spacey, chill electro vibe, with all the familiar elements from Misters Namlook and Montanà in play for over fourteen minutes. This actually makes it the second longest track of the whole series, the first being the nineteen-plus minute long Path I opening the first album – most Paths average six to ten minutes, showing remarkable restraint given Namlook's history of long, noodly compositions, no matter who he's paired up with.

Path XXXIII lets Lorenzo's beatcraft stretch a little, with complementing Moog synths and charming bell tones. Path XXXIV gets darker and dubbier, using droning pads and burbling acid to great effect. A chipper Berlin-School styled cut marks Path XXXV, while Path XXXVI brings things closer to contemporary vibes, save some extended guitar diddling from Namlook. As the final Path, XXXVII doesn't have much going for it, a simple, chill tune more in Lorenzo's style than Pete's. A fine wrap-up for this particular album, but kinda' limp as a conclusion to the series. Not that Namlook and Montanà planned it as such.

Namlook • Montanà - Labyrinth 4

Fax +49-69/540464: 2011

Yeah, I caved on these. How could I not? I've said plenty that finding first run Fax+ albums in circulation is extraordinarily rare, so when I heard Lorenzo had actual hard copies of his Labyrinth sessions available through Bandcamp, you bet I scoped what was left. What I hadn't counted on was these being double-disc albums, presented in traditional stereo and DTS 5.1 audio. I knew Pete Namlook had taken a fancy to this supreme audiophile technology on some of his works, but didn't realize it was every album he worked on from as far back as 2006's Air V + Jeux Dangereux. He'd even started re-issuing ancient Fax+ catalogue in this format, as seasonal compilations called The Ambient Gardener. Guess that's one way to make extra bank on old material, but man, does it pinch paying for a format you have no means of hearing properly.

Anyhow, Labyrinth from Namlook and Montanà. Lorenzo had debuted on Fax +49-69/450464 with Black Ivy in 2009, and must have made quite an impression with Mr. Kuhlmann. Not only did the two immediately start collaborating, and not only did the resulting sessions generate five albums in a two year time span, but it also put Pete's endless sessions with Move D on the back-burner. Talk about your combo-breakers! I'm not sure why Namlook took such an instant interest in Montanà; just liked the cut of his beatcraft? Perhaps, Lorenzo's minimalist, unfussy ambient techno glitch unlike much of what Fax+ had been promoting the previous decade. Not that Mr. Montanà's take was entirely unique itself, but it must have been enough of a fresh sound for Namlook's ears to get his inspiration fired up again.

I have to say though, if you're just jumping into the Labyrinth series with volume 4 as I have, it may be off putting. Opening track Path XXVI starts with a weird, rubbery acid bassline and sparse, empty rhythms that sounds more like Plastikman than either of the players involved here. It's nearly two minutes before we hear melody in support, including choir pads and those vintage spaced-out synths that's been a Namlook staple since forever. The whole piece plays out in typical Fax+ meandering style, though comparatively 'short' at only twelve mintues in length. The sounds are nice, but man, I can't get over that out-of-place bassline. Path XXVII starts off with one too, but at least its accompanying sounds fit the odd tone better – rhythms chug at a dubby, chill techno pace, and oooh, Pete's breakin' out the guitar jams for this one.

The remaining Paths mostly keep to a similar feel, all rather spacious, dubby, and minimalist without ever going into dub techno's dry sterility. Path XXVIII gets a bit funkier, Path XXX more chill-out, and Path XXXI works in dubbed-out synth stabs that echo across the channels (bet this sounds great in 5.1!), but overall Labyrinth 4 is far too sparse in music to recommend beyond fans of this sound or Namlook completists.

Atrium Carceri - Kapnobatai

Cold Meat Industry/Cryo Chamber: 2005/2017

So Simon Heath reissued a bunch of his early Atrium Carceri albums on CD, which is nice, as those initial Cold Meat Industry runs are well out of print at this point. It kinda' feels like the project's come full circle now with Cryo Chamber, the label first set up, among other things, to offer digital downloads of those albums. Then it grew to include new projects, other artists, creative challenges, and a little extra swag on the side too. I suppose it was inevitable that Simon would rescue his original works for another run of CDs, waiting for a time such that their Cold Meat rights expired following that label's closure. As such, only his first three have been physically resurrected on Cryo Chamber, Cellblock, Seishinbyouin, and Kapnobatai. I've a feeling Reliquiae's gonna' take a little longer.

Heath's Atrium albums on Cold Meat were heralded because they blended older, industrial dark ambient aesthetics while suggesting a larger canvas than creepy weird music for its own sake. Such is the case with Kapnobatai, an album I picked up because I just gotta' find out what's the deal with that bizarre cover art. What is that, a mask? A demon head? An alien skull? The title itself offers no real clue, as it refers to cloud-dwelling, meditating shamans of Scythian descent, typically by way of burning cannabis flowers. The liner notes relay the inner monologue of an embittered individual as he surveys a land he and his ilk once ruled, only to have been overthrown by lesser sorts, now mocking him as they pass by. Pretty sure that was the whole point of crucifixions. Still no closer to discover what the deal with that cover image is though.

The opening tracks of Enclosed World/Liberation and Behind The Curtain Of Life definitely does bring me back to the early days of Delerium, with choir pads, unsettling synth sounds, and disembodied dialog samples. (yes, Delerium is about my only firm frame of reference when it comes to old school dark ambient) Impaled Butterfly takes things a step further, offering up copious amounts of anime dialog. I keep thinking it's from Cowboy Bepop, just because there's a brief harmonica tone among the sci-fi sound effects, marching rhythms and distorted pads. It probably isn't though, just because I'm fairly certain Kapnobatai isn't supposed to be a sci-fi album. Definitely plenty of industrial body-horror goings-on in later tracks though (Synaptic Transmission, Monolith Of Dreams, Stained Pipes, Thermographic Components, The Corrupter).

While there's elements of the 'cinematic drone' Heath would implement with greater frequency in later albums, Kapnobatai is still mostly playing by Cold Meat Industry's O.G. industrial rules. Which is fine if you prefer your dark ambient claustrophobic, dehumanizing, and horrific. Cryo Chamber showed me there was another way, one that could get introspective and strangely calming in the face of a bleak world (also, grand narratives!). Yeah, the label was hardly the first to do this, but it at least opened the door for yours truly.

Lee Anthony Norris - Italian Works

...txt: 2014

First you find the free downloads from ever-awesome portals like Ektoplazm or Bandcamp, and you think it's fine, because you're not going back on your word about paying for MP3s. Then they start offering older, out-of-print items up for free download, for being so supportive of their efforts, and you go along with it because you're still not paying for MP3s. Then come the discounts on digital-only items, and you figure since those won't ever see a hard-copy release, what's the harm in indulging in those too? And before you know it, you've succumb to the seductive dance of digital consumerism. Not all at once, and not instantly to be sure, but here I am, a decade removed from an 'epic rant' on TranceCritic about never buying MP3s (never!), eagerly buying in. So it goes.

Anyhow, when Lee Norris set up his ...txt print, he spent much of that time also working on various musics with various musicians, flooding the ambient market with a ton of new albums in the process. I've even reviewed some of those (Autumn Of Communion, Moss Garden, Nacht Plank, that shorty Porya Hatami collaboration). Right, much of what I have covered mostly came care of Carpe Sonum Records, if only because their CD runs aren't quite as limited as ...txt's usually are. There's still a chunk of albums in this period that I haven't picked up, so when Mr. Norris provided a good-will free download of his 2014 2CD compilation Italian Works - essentially a summation of his work during this period – how could I refuse? It didn't matter I already had some of this stuff elsewhere, it's an out-of-print ambient double-LP, for free download! Can't... resist...

Along with the above mentioned projects, also within Italian Works are Ashtoreth's Gate (Norris and Craig Murphy), The Ashes Of Piemonte (Norris and Wil Bolton), Solipsism & Nacht Plank (Lee and Craig again), and The Angling Loser (Lee, Wil, Porya, Martin Hirsch, Shintaro Aoki, and Sir Cliff). Fifteen tracks comprise both CDs (or full download), ranging from three-and-a-half minutes to a couple twenty-plus minute compositions. It's also all arranged into a mix of sorts, though as we're dealing with ambient here, it's more like faded blends between tracks rather than any layering.

And if you're familiar with Norris' style of ambient in recent years, much of Italian Works shouldn't come of surprise. There's the stuff with field recordings coupled with gentle melodic meandering - The Angling Loser's Dawn, Ashes Of Piemonte's Ordained By Winter's Fire, Solipsism & Nacht Plank's Lush, Polite, Heroin... almost every track really. Other pieces get more droning and abstract (Ashtoreth's Gate's When We Return) or go wide-screen with layered pad work (Moss Garden's Daily Catachresis), but about the only real differences between everything is what unique aesthetics Norris' collaborator brings to the plate. It all makes for a tidy bluffer's guide to his recent output, but lacks the diversity to elevate it beyond more than a pleasant, diverting compilation.

Way Out West - Intensify

Nettwerk: 2001

Far as I'm concerned, Way Out West has always been that duo who supplied solid tunes to a solid progressive set, or could class up a cheesy trance set. But because their album output has been so sporadic (five in two decades!), the solo careers of Nick Warren and Jody Wisternoff has generated more talk than the Way Out West legacy. For sure they had a brilliant run at the start, among the top rated acts in the nascent progressive house (trance/breaks) scene. Even then, however, it was clear they didn't need each other for sustainable careers. Mr. Warren was an established DJ on the UK circuit, while Mr. Wisternoff had a respectable discography under his belt before teaming up with Nick. Still, when they hit the studio back in the '90s, it was clear they had great synergy in crafting creative, deadly dancefloor weapons.

Success does create pressure in at least considering cross-over potential though, a tempting possibility for Way Out West following the turn of the Millennium. Like, if Hybrid could throw in a few vocals to critical plaudits, why not them as well? Surely folks would buy a collaboration with Kirsty Hawkshaw here, and a voice from Tricia Lee Kalshall there. And just in case their older followers weren't keen, you can win them over by sampling a bona-fide '90s classic in Coldcut's Autumn Leaves for the lead single in The Fall. That'll get those nostalgia triggers firing!

Shocking pilfering aside, The Fall is fine for what it is, a thumping prog-house anthem with a familiar hook to sing along to. Mindcircus was rather played out back in the day, but retains some charm all these years later, and Stealth works as a mid-album trip-hop breather. Really though, we're here for those propulsive prog-house/breaks (trance) cuts the Way Out West brand was built on, and the lads behind the moniker don't disappoint in the slightest. Activity's got a killer, clanking beat with a tasteful ethnic wail, Call Me works in a pounding prog groove, Hypnotise gets more floaty and break-beaty (paging Dr. Hybrid, yo'), and Sharkhunt... damn, is this ever some tasty-as-fuck sci-fi funk! It's a travesty this cut didn't get the EP treatment.

Okay, UB Devoid is a solid choice for “Big Banger Single From New Album”. It's almost doing a psy-trance thing for its first half, indulging in brief melodic passages, samples, and weird sounds for their own sake. The second-half goes down more traditional prog-house paths, but are mint in their own right. Can you believe this track's not even five-minutes long? Who crams that much music into a five-minute dance tune?

Finishing up, Secret hints at the burgeoning James Holden influences (grumbly low-end, twinkly highs), while the two-parter titular cut sums up most of the album's highlights. Unless you just can't stand prog-trance (breaks/house) of this era, there's nothing to fault with Intensify. It may not be as ground-breaking as their '90s output, but remains a great collection of tunes to this day.

36 - Hypersona

3six Recordings: 2009

With so many ambient artists on the market, it takes remarkable skill and ridiculous luck at cracking through the glut. I mean, after forty years of official existence (and some prior years of being called something else), how many unique angles are left in this genre? Even some of my present favourites typically tread territory covered by artists from the past, which isn't a bad thing by any stretch. Music genres become genres because of the familiar tropes that define them, relying on each musician's personal touch with established tools to distinguish themselves. Yet that may not be enough to get noticed, not without some serious sleuthing by dedicated diggers trawling for new material for their podcasts and blog hype. No, I'm not of that sort, usually content in letting others do the discovering for me. It's almost accidental if I happen across something none of my usual sources haven't yet.

I'd like to say Dennis Huddleston's 36 project (remember, that's “three-six”) is one such example, but that's not quite the case. While hunting for examples of contemporary ambient regarding Guide 3.0 matters, I was checking some 'Best Of' lists from Discogs users, and 36's debut album Hypersona was coming up a fair bit. He was still fairly new then, only a couple years removed from self-releasing this record, but the buzz was palpable. After plucking a sample, I made a mental note to check his stuff further, and didn't get around to that again until this past year. Um, oops?

Well, better late than never (and before physical copies are sold out!), but yes, Hypersona definitely is the sort of album that deservedly cracked that thick ambient soup, floating to the top in the guise as a tasty bit of garnish in the bowl. See, Mr. Huddleston had a trick up his sleeve that helped him stand out from the pack, making sure you heard what his music had to say, and would want to hear more from him from then on out. Within the first five minutes of this album, which includes three tracks of Signal, 2249, and Inside, you're met with a rush of nostalgic, melancholy melodies and dreamy synth-pad layers that reach deep into your chest, rip your heart out, and forces sweet tears of blissful innocence into that gaping hole where your soul lies.

Okay, I'm laying the uber-hyperbole thick there, but conventional ambient album construction dictates these sort of tunes are reserved for closing numbers, melodic denouements after being led on an emotional journey. Yet here's 36 saying, “Nuts to that, I'm gonna' hit you in the heart-strings early and hard.”

And don't think Hypersona's front-loaded, equally evocative tunes cropping up throughout the album, just with different variations. The Box adds ethereal voices, Nephyr does the white-washed dub-drone thing, Juliet gets abstract with crackly radio chatter, and Forever is insanely grand, opulent, and lush. That, my friends, is how you get a debut ambient album noticed in this scene.

The Oak Ridge Boys - Hymns & Songs, Volume II

Verus Records: 2001

Hey-yo, Past Peoples, 2073 Sykonee back already again. I know, I know, this is growing ridiculous, how many times I've done this already. I warned myself this was a nigh futile endeavour, reviewing cheap options for Oak Ridge Boys albums. A group with as much history as this one, which saw remarkable commercial success after transitioning from gospel to country, will have its extensive catalogue pilfered for credit-ins based on name recognition alone. Never mind their Nauty-Eighties material had nothing to do with their Nauty-Sixties material (even the familiar members hadn't yet become their iconic selves), if there's unsuspecting fans eager for more Oak Ridge Boys music, the dozens of olden recordings are there to fill the gaps, with any number of cheap-o labels licensing out a dozen songs in bare-bones presentation. Even in my time, with the vast webclouds we have, I still don't think every Oak Ridge Boys release has been accounted for. What hope does my past self have?

This one though, this Hymns & Songs collection, this is different. There's actual care taken with these vintage recordings, remastered and even enhanced beyond the capabilities of the original hardware. Not some slap-dasherdly clutch at Americana dollars, but a resurrection of The Oak Ridge Boys' heritage. Capturing the feeling of being within a real rural church in a bygone era, sitting front and centre in the pews, a lead singer to the left of you, the harmonizing trio to the right, and piano or organ or guitar players just in the background. Every voice distinct and separate, not the usual mono-mush so many of these compilations settle for. Heckles, even the vinyl crackle is captured, because I assume the original records were the only sound source this company had to work with. And believe in me, they dug up some ancient recordings.

Ten songs are on Hymns & Songs Volume II, the bulk of which originally come from a 1962 record called He Whispers Sweet Peace To Me on Skylite. A few more were plucked from the 1958 record The Solid Gospel Sound Of The Oak Ridge Quartet. Yessiree, we're dealing with the Boys before they'd even rebranded themselves as Boys - tenor “Little” Willie Wynn was the new kid on this block! And let me tell you, it took some serious sleuthing through your archaic interactive datanet to figure this out. It's astounding just how many gaps in knowledge your version of Wikis and Oggs still have. Imagine having a Britannica without Rasta-Pasta or Dragon nests!

As I've done told yous all before, our enjoyment of The Oak Ridge Boys/Quartet mostly stems from decoding their Atomic codes wrapped in religious harmonies. Yes, they're singing about Literal Jesus, but what is Jesus to any of us but a representation of our noblest deeds in the face of our cruellest actions? When stacked against so many Oak Ridge Boys bone pickers, whoever took such care recreating these recordings is a Jesus to any audiophile, whatever the content within contains.