LL Cool J - Mr. Smith

Def Jam Recordings: 1995

Can't be a proper hip-hop head without a little LL Cool J in my collection. Just a shame it's taken me this long to get some. No, wait, that's not true - I did have a Cool J album before, his G.O.A.T. album when I first got into hip-hop. I liked it enough to nab me a copy, but when it came time for the Great CD Pawning Of 2002 (unemployed ass gotta' pay for ramen noodles somehow), it didn't survive the purge. No great loss by most accounts, and while LL's remained an active name in the world of rap, I haven't been compelled to keep tabs on his music. That doesn't excuse me from skipping on his early classics though, so maybe this will finally get my ass hunting for those albums you're supposed to have, even if you're not a LL Cool J fan.

Actually, I think I've already accomplished this with Mr. Smith ...kind of. While not a critical darling on the same level as Bigger And Deffer or Mama Said Knock You Out, it was a successful commercial turnaround for LL after a weak jump on the gangsta fad of the early '90s. Propped up by Platinum-selling singles that catered to the lucrative R&B crowd, even folks who'd never bothered with his '80s output were buying this album up.

That's damn impressive considering how most rappers from the previous decade were constantly being upstaged by fresher talents. For sure those only after the grittiest, grimiest street tales wouldn't have much use for Mr. Smith, but there's a much wider audience than that in the Urban scene, and Cool J tapped into it perfectly. Hell, I remember Doin' It being quite the hit even in my backwoods region of Canada, if only because as snarky teenagers, we'd do mocking sarcastic renditions of the chorus. Joke's on us though, LL soon appearing on Demographic-Approved soundtracks like Beavis And Butthead Do America and Space Jam.

So the R&B tunes were the big hits (including Boyz II Men collab' Hey Lover, and Loungin with the Puff Daddy-produced duo Total). How's the rest of Mr. Smith, then? Good enough, I suppose – no embarrassing attempts at being thug at least. LL gets in several braggadocios cuts showing off his lyrical skills for 'real hip-hop heads', including Make It Hot, I Shot Ya, No Airplay, Mr. Smith, Get Da Drop On 'Em. He also gets in a couple wordplay cuts, one toying with movie titles (Hollis To Hollywood), another giving props to rap acts over the years (Hip Hop). This one's oddly placed in the album though, second track status when it feels like it should be plugged near the end as a tribute.

Production wise, most tunes are handled by a then-new talent called TrackMasters, who's smooth, Eastcoast style would lead them to producing such prominent names like Nas, Foxy Brown, Noreaga, Method Man, and Will Smith. Eh, I'll take Rashad Smith's dubby style myself. He later got Busta Rhymes.

Vortex - Moloch

Cyclic Law: 2016

It's difficult wading through these bleak, murky dark ambient shores, many upon many labels having sprung up this past decade offering grim, morbid, desolate sound-spaces for our troubled times. Like, I doubt the '50s had as much depressive music to offer (lots of weird 'art' noises though). Still, I've name-dropped Cyclic Law a few times, the Montreal/Berlin label having shared some talent with Cryo Chamber, most notably Kammarheit (Cities Last Broadcast) and Apócrýphos. Where's the fun in digging into another label for familiar musicians though? Nay, let's unearth some new cats! There, that album with the neat cityscape cover art. Ooh, a lovely photo booklet is included. Gotta' love those juxtaposed pictures of Manhattan decadence and decay.

Vortex (26) is the side-project of Marcus Stiglegger, who first made his mark in musicdom with :Golgatha:. Lord Discogs lists the group as “German apocalyptic and ritual folkband”, an apt descriptor for a lot of dark ambient. They had some minor success, even releasing a couple albums on Cold Meat Industry, but have been quiet most of this decade. Seems Vortex has taken Mr. Stiglegger's attention now, Moloch his fifth album under the project.

The concept of this album is simple enough: Marcus strolled through the Burroughs, and found himself inspired by what he saw, especially the neighbourhoods everyone so vividly remembers from '70s sleaze masterpieces. He had a sense that the City itself was a deity demanding soul-crushing sacrifice to exist within its realm, perverting your humanity just to make ends meet in an unforgiving clime'. Having lived in a City for a while now, I know the feeling - Vancouver's a cruel mistress sometimes, who'll chew you up and spit you out into the harbour if you don't know what you're doing.

As a dark ambient album, Moloch hits most of the standard points for a concept such as this. Rounding up about a half-dozen keyboardists, electric guitarists, and his own additional treatments (percussion, voices, ...flute?), Mr. Stiglegger coerces an industrial score for wandering a twisted vista. Opener City Of Steel sets the tone with abrasive drones before emerging with a gritty, orchestral dirge filled with distortion, as though marching through dead, urban squalor. Towers Of Glass breathes menacing drones while gentle synth tones offer a tranquil respite from the horrors surrounding you, but even these are eventually subsumed by the ever-present murk.

Most tracks play out in similar fashion – drones painting inhospitable pictures of urban existence, but Skyline stands in stark contrast to everything else. Even if the opening piano is unsettling, it's still more melodic than most of Moloch's been. It soon fades though, an omnipresent drone lulling you into a strange comfort of being, before a vicious guitar squall erupts, like a feral beast from the shadows - yet even that eventually takes on a comforting familiarity. Not those harsh, clanking noises at the end though, bursting forth out of nowhere, knocking even the beast back to its shadows. There's always a bigger tower in the City.

Autumn Of Communion - Metal

...txt: 2017

I know, I know. More music from these guys? Aren't there any other modern ambient techno dudes out there I should be checking out? What is this anyway, their fiftieth album in 2017? Actually, and surprisingly, just their first as Autumn Of Communion, though obviously Misters Norris and Chillage have kept themselves busy elsewhere. It's simply a case of me diving deep into some discographies all at once, playing catch-up over the course of a year. Creates an illusion of over-exposure, especially in this unorthodox order of reviewing the music I buy. Just be thankful much of their music's released in scarce quantities. Imagine if I actually could snatch it all up in one shot.

As with every Autumn Of Communion album lately, Lee and Mick went into their latest session with a goal in mind. And if you know what that goal specifically is, please tell me, because I sure haven't seen any PR stating what it is. Like, I know there's always the respectful nods to ambient techno of the '90s, all the while subtly pushing the sound down contemporary roads, but what was the inspiration for Metal? Music for its own sake? Eh, sounds good enough for me.

Actually, if there's anything that marks a difference in these tunes compared to prior albums (that I've thus far heard), it's a heavier emphasis on rhythms - real, propulsive electro beats, a couple of which one could even shuffle to. Not that this is an outright techno album by any means, lengthy stretches of each track noodling about in synth pads or bleepy electronics just as much as any typical AoC LP. With tunes averaging ten to thirteen minutes in length, however, that's plenty of room for blissy lead-ins, head-bobbin' peaks, and calming outros. It also gives each track sturdier trajectory, less about that free-form Fax+ music making than most AoC records so often go.

Thus we get tracks like opener Actinium (89, Ac, useful for radiation therapy) having pleasant space pads and twitchy bleeps, eventually giving way to dubby broken beats for a while as spritely melodies play in the background, followed by some minimalist synth play. Meanwhile, Tungsten (74, W, one tough bastard) is more chill, getting in on that spaced-out vibe while laid-back electro rhythms cruise along. Neptunium (93, Np, helps us make Plutonium) is all ominous and mysterious, with bleepy rhythms that have me recalling HIA if Bobby Bird had been less playful. Longest track Molybdenum (42, Mo, we'd die without it) gets bouncier in its beats, then switches to something more strident in the second half – feels like I'm watching a documentary of a microcosm doing amazing things. 'Shorty' track Manganese (25, Mn, steel and aluminum alloys, yo') is a charming, dubby outing of ambient electro, while closer Radium (88, Ra, cool glowy shit!) gets back on that strident beat, and includes the closest thing to a big, hooky 'anthem' I've ever heard from Lee and Mick. Planning on some festival sets, eh?

Decimal - Lost In A Dark Place

Soma Quality Recordings: 2010

Dammit, I don't have enough 2010-2011 Music. It's not my fault I didn't get back into Music until 2012, it's Music's fault - not enough wicked-cool shit just dropping into my lap. Guess I gotta' dig for it, but who do I trust? What tastemakers could always be counted upon? Say, how about that Soma Quality Recordings outfit? They've had consistent quality for many years now – it's right in their name! More than that, they've curated plenty of dope acts over the years (Slam, The Black Dog, Daft Punk, DeepChord, Vector Lovers, Funk D'Void, Silicone Soul). Let's see what they have available in those years? An album from a guy called Decimal? Sure, I'll bite. The samples sound good enough – no apparent minimal bloopy-blorp and hissing wank detected.

Yes, this is the only reason I got David Spacek's debut album. I didn't know anything about him prior to purchase, but I apparently have one track by him, on M.A.N.D.Y.'s sterile contribution to the fabric series. His first Decimal singles came out in that period, releasing mostly through Berlin techno print Enemy Records. Somewhere along the way, he hooked up with Soma Quality, and was given the green light for an LP. And then his discography completely dries up, no follow-up album, no subsequent singles, not even a different project under a new alias (so sayeth Lord Discogs). Only a lone track on his Soundcloud has appeared since Lost In A Dark Place, uploaded but this past year. Geez, did something go totally pear-shaped over label deals? Got a better paying job elsewhere? Suddenly became a family man? Whatever the reason, 'tis a shame, as there's some pretty good tunes on here.

For sure he can't help but supply some tech-house and techno fodder for the clubs. Opener Temple March has most of the 'minimal era' trademarks, though is less obnoxious in their use than most singles went. Why, there's even a few funky broken-beat bridges littered about! Forgotten Requiem ups the tempo some with a far groovier rhythm, and even builds a looping hook throughout, accentuated with backing strings at the peaks. Holy cow, Decimal's doing progressive house! Or at least making tunes that Serious Prog DJs Who Play Serious Tech-House can make use of. It's certainly a sound Scuba would have noticed.

Other tracks make use of looping hooks, though more of a nod towards Detroit's style of melody (Soulchamber, Vastis Black Mask). Simulation is pure Detroit in it's own right, all future-funk and percolating synths without falling back on obvious rhythms. A couple more tracky tech-house tracks eat up some mid-album space (Tightly Wound, Ghost), but dig those downtempo dalliances in A Physical Sense Of Time (dubby electro) and The Lesson Of Hope, nearly eleven minutes of twee ambient techno. Dang!

With such diversity, how'd Lost In A Dark Place go so overlooked? Was Decimal's association with mid-'00s minimal that hard to shake off? Not 'forward thinking' enough for discerning techno heads? B'ah, their loss.

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.