Jamiroquai - Travelling Without Moving

Columbia: 1996

The only Jamiroquai album you probably have, if you're American. Or Canadian. Or Australian. Or New Zealandian. Yes, Travelling Without Moving was the band's major global breakout, finally cluing the planet Earth into what the Brits had known for a few good years – that acid jazz thing is rather quite cool an' funky, y'know. What's funny is despite being their best selling album by several leagues, Travelling Without Moving never hit the number one on the charts, not even in their native UK. Granted, competition was fierce for such a coveted spot that year, including The Fugee's The Score, Spice Girls' Spice, Kula Shaker's K (um, who?), George Michael's Older (he was still popular there), and... wow, Alanis Morissette's Jagged Little Pill? She was obviously huge in Canada, but I had no idea the Brits also loved her that much.

So everyone knows Virtual Insanity, because everyone has seen the video for Virtual Insanity. Quite a few folks also know the retro-disco single Cosmic Girl, because cars. Some people might know the retro-funk of Alright and High Times, though I feel these singles would be better received in recent times, after hipsters and Bruno Mars made listening to such music culturally popular. Most of us on the Western side of the Atlantic weren't ready to accept non-ironic funk-n-soul back into our lives though (t'was all about that G-funk).

That's the singles, but if you're drawing a blank beyond the tracks that “had that cool video” and “was in that episode of Daria”, you can imagine how the rest of the album fared with general audiences. And that's a crying shame, because listening to Travelling Without Moving, you can hear there's some insanely talented musicians at work, fearless in their genre fusion even as the big, bold Billboards beckoned them.

Like, Didjerama, a pure tribal-dub outing with a didgeridoo lead! Then they follow it with more simmering didjeridoo action in the chill funk-soul session of Didjital Vibratations. Who does that on a 'pop' album, especially on the cusp of Spice-mania? Oh yeah, acid jazz guys, because they're all about finding the funk in whatever ways they can (it's not really a jazz genre).

Then there's funky Latin vibes in Use The Force, boppin' reggae vibes in Drifting Along, more disco vibes with the titular cut, more funk vibes with You Are My Love (wee, Moog action!), plus a couple soul outings too (Everyday, Spend A Lifetime). Because you need that love-makin' downtime when there's this much freakin' funk funkin' around. And just in case you forgot what year this came out in, Do You Know Where You're Coming From? gets in on that trendy jazzstep action. Can't be an acid jazz album without d'n'b, I guess.

Given it's sales numbers, it feels weird to say that Travelling Without Moving is an overlooked gem of funk and soul music. Considering the only thing most folks remember from it is an associated video though, that's sadly the case. No more excuses!

SiJ - The Time Machine

Cryo Chamber: 2017

Did you know SiJ does solo albums too? Of course you do, because I've said as much in the past, though even these aren't technically always solo either. When Vlad Sikach initially launched the project, he had help from a couple associates, including Anna Vorobyeva on synths and Alena Perepadya on field recordings and photography. Hey, the design aesthetic was just as integral to the SiJ manifesto as the sound aesthetic, so it counts! Anna and Alena have remained a consistent presence, but many others have joined Vlad for collaborative work under the SiJ banner.

For instance, the Way To Dream album is loaded with 'em. Alena's there! Anna's there! Textere Oris is there! Robert Rich is there! Creation IV is there! Leon Milo is there! Owl is there! Zebraphone Collective is there! Toiletrolltube is there! AMK, jmggs, & Sala are there! Even Endless Meloncholy is there – the producer, not the mood, though given this is a dark ambient project, probably that too. Point is, whether it's Vlad on his own or with a bunch of help from his friends, the SiJ name can represent a lot of people if need be.

And so it goes with The Time Machine, which looks like a solo album from SiJ, but definitely is not once you dig into the credit notes, many tracks having an extra hand in the production. Anna's back for some synth action on two pieces, as is Textere Oris on one. Keosz pops up to add some flute tones to Vision Of Hell (credited as a sample, so maybe not him specifically), plus a bunch more I'm not immediately familiar with. However, Vadim Grin (Dream Twice), Stanislav ToSo (Particula), Tanya Lieben, and Anna Sikach have all worked on prior SiJ releases, so Vlad's at least in familiar company with this outing.

The Time Machine is about taking a trip through time, obviously, letting the listener in on some sights and sounds of past and future. And since this is a dark ambient release, you bet it's gonna' be all grim and desolate and self-reflective. Can't wait to hear how SiJ sucks you in with some creepy, ominous foreshadow with opener Forwards In Time. Uh, wait a second... this, isn't creepy or ominous at all. In fact, it's downright calm and lovely, like ambient-proper. Yeah, there's a tiny amount of twitchy field recordings in the background, but man, I'm feeling right blissed out by this opener. Are we sure this is a Cryo Chamber release?

Nah, guy, the rest of the album playing out as expected with the players involved. Minimalist, barren, melancholic ambient music with plenty of field recordings to spare. It's all absorbing stuff, though I almost have to skip the first track to vibe on it, Forwards In Time putting me in such a conflicting headspace compared to what follows. Interesting that the peaceful closer Shrine Of Dark serves as a nice contrast though, as if SiJ has sandwiched his bleak soundscapes in hope.

Rainbow Vector - This Way

Spiritech: 2012

I should have known this when I started this mini-dig of Spiritech's discography – any tiny bit of 'journalistic investigating' would have unearthed it. Hell, if I'd just started with this particular CD instead of succumbing to my alphabetical OCD, I'd have the facts staring right in my face-hole, liner notes explaining things plain as day. But no, I gotta' do things my way (in my time, my ti-i-i-ime!), out of logical, chronological order. Thus, what under normal circumstances should have been the first CD I reviewed from Spiritech's catalogue ends up being the last.

Within the liner notes of This Way, a blurb informs that the players behind Rainbow Vector – Alireza Zaifnejad (BlueBliss, who you may know from Ovnimoon Records and Altar Records) and Albert Borkent (Lingua Lustra himself) – met over Soundcloud, shared some ideas, shared some sounds, and realized they should make them available over the cloud. Or Bandcamp at least, and hey, why not make their efforts the inaugural CD on their new label? What struck me about this knowledge is that Lingua Lustra had already been releasing music through Soundcloud for some time, which would explain why so much of his stuff on Bandcamp is offered as free downloads as well. Makes sense, not requesting monies for music that was already free in the first place. It's not a huge revelation, but does clear up a factoid I didn't know in the first place. Yay discovery!

So Rainbow Vector, the combination of a psy-chill guy and a noodly ambient guy: what could go wrong? A lot, but nothing did in this instance, so that's good. Depending on the track, each producer's style will generally dominates over the other's. For instance, shorter pieces like Nexus, Glass Onion, Aqueous, and Lemniskating go more the psy-chill route, including groovy rhythms complementing the spaced-out synths and pads. It honestly reminds me of early Ultimae, which shouldn't be a surprise since BlueBliss ran in similar circles from that era (oh hai, Altar!).

The other bulk of tracks lean towards Lingua Lustra's lane of lengthy ambient outings. Sometimes they'll do the widescreen layers of sound (Newsflash, Flower Of Life), or a simmering, glitchy drone (Raybow), but mostly stick to the minimalist stuff with dubby field recordings and distant harmonies (Light Circle, Spiral Time). It sounds nice and all, as I'd expect with the players involved, but the track sequencing kind of buggers the album experience.

This Way opens with Newsflash, eleven minutes of loud, provocative sonics, before easing us into the psy-chill stuff for a bit. Then a huge stretch of the album's taken up by the ambient material, music that's fine in of itself but totally derails whatever momentum the earlier tracks provided. It honestly makes getting to the remaining, shorter psy-chill tunes a challenge, a feeling like This Way should have wrapped up well before the end. It's never a good idea putting your longest, calmest tracks smack in the middle of an album. Ah well.

Various - Techno 3: Still Tripping (Compiled By Chris Sheppard)

Quality Music: 1992

Before Club Cutz, before Groove Station. Before Love Inc., before Destination Dance Floor. Hell, even before Pirate Radio Sessions, though about the same time as Rock Em Sock Em 5, there was The Techno Trip. Or Trip To The Moon. Or Have A Nice Trip. Or... just Techno (2)? Is that really what you're labelling this series, Lord Discogs? Whatever. To all Canadians, the compilations were simply known as Chris Sheppard's Techno Trip, and it was our first real taste of rave music on a commercial level. Sure, there were enclaves and outlets savvy heads knew about (mostly in Montreal and Toronto), but none had the national exposure Quality Music provided (MuchMusic ads helped).

And yeah, despite the name, there isn't much in the way of techno on these CDs, mostly exercises in old school rave and hardcore tracks. Give Shep' some slack though, the early '90s still a wild west of genre breeding, with only a few established, accepted terms around. It was called techno because it certainly wasn't house, and rave was the place you went to, or something. Look, there wasn't any internet (much less a music guide) to hash out these debates – heck, there was barely even any 'journalism' going on regarding this scene. It's not Shep's fault Canada was seriously lagging behind on rave music (but oh, did we ever have it goin' on with EBM!).

As for his third 'trip' into 'techno', it's an average affair of vintage tunes, with the usual assortment of overplayed samples and hoover sounds. The opening cut from Shep's BKS project (with his DJ moniker Dogwhistle on the rub) even nicks the bleepy goodness of LFO, plus throws in a couple children rhymes, because that was the trendy thing to do at the time. It honestly isn't that bad, provided you haven't much exposure to rave music before, and I reckon the Canadian audience that bought this hadn't.

Notable acts such as Acen, Shut Up And Dance, Joey Beltram, N.R.G. (they never lost their hardcore) and Voodoo Child (aka: Moby) also show up, with a few lesser known acts rounding things out. Dream Frequency's Feel So Real and Rhythm Quest's Closer To All Your Dreams gets in on those rolling piano anthems, while Bass Construction's Dance With Power and Project One's Roughneck will get your Prodigy triggers going.

And then there's the back-end of Techno 3 – Still Tripping, where all the novelty tunes are lumped. Apotheosis' apocalyptic choir anthem Obumbratta makes another appearance, sans booming gabber beats, while Poing from Rotterdam Termination Source hints where Dutch hardcore would eventually go (sadly). And let's not forget Harajuku, who made a career of doing dance covers of famous opera and musical numbers, breaking out here with Phantom Of The Opera. And what's this Back To Jack Your Body from Steve “Silk” Hurley at the end? It doesn't sound like rave or techno – much too slow, what with that funky acid groove and all. It sullies this compilation's genre purity!

Legowelt - TEAC Life

Nightwind Records: 2011/2017

In the era of electroclash and music that wasn't electroclash but was getting called electroclash (*whew*, what a mouthful), one of the biggest anthems of the time was Legowelt's Disco Rout. Looking back, one could make the argument the tune was a precursor to the outrun branch of synthwave, though I'm sure Danny Wolfers would be rather embarrassed by such a claim. In any event, Disco Rout was definitely a fav' for yours truly, after which I promptly digested any and all Legowelt mus- no, wait, that's not right. As the tune never appeared on a subsequent album, I promptly forgot about Legowelt, moving on to other things. Well, no more. Time to get me caught right the fuck up on his music proper-like, and I remember hearing good things about this here TEAC Life album when it came out in 2011. Sure, let's see what sort of Bandcamp deal I can get with this. Oh... oh my! Dude's literally giving it away!

Even when it was brand new, The Teac Life was a free giveaway, which boggles the hindsight mind. A double-LP of vintage Detroit techno would fetch ludicrous sums of money in physical formats, and has in the few vinyl runs Mr. Wolfers has released over the years. Still, the fact it remains a free download in digital suggests one of two things: either ol' Danny is just a real generous guy, or he didn't think it would garner enough interest to warrant regular financial compensation for his efforts.

I'm honestly kinda' leaning towards the latter, at least initially, because who'd ever want to hear a two-plus hours of throwback Detroit techno when minimal, dub, and the tough, functionalist Berghain sound were the dominate forces in Technoland. Seems to me that Legowelt just had a bunch of tracks he made for fun and gave it away since ain't no way DJs would play these in all the Very Important clubs. Funny thing is not only did he underestimate people's desire for pure, true-blue Detroit techno in the modern era, but he may have released his best album in the process.

There's not a duff cut in these seventeen tracks. Not one! This is Detroit techno that sounds as sourced from its early '90s heyday as it does plucked from the futurelands it draws influence from. It's retro in all the right ways, never navel-gazing so much it sacrifices solid songcraft, but never deviating from what makes Detroit techno so beloved in the first place. The simmering electronic funk, the sci-fi synthy leads, the singing soul of the robot underclass, it's all present and correct.

My only complaint is that even seventeen tracks of mint Detroit techno does get tiring. Mind, that's a complaint for any singular genre exercise extending beyond ninety minutes, by which point I usually tap out. TEAC Life though, it makes me want to keep pushing for those extra few cuts, those extra couple miles, those extra dozen reps. You know it's worth it in the end.

Geometry Combat - Tanz Der Schatten

Werkstatt Recordings: 2014

The appeal of ancient industrial is just how grimy it sounds compared to most music. You get the sense it's a total grass-roots scene, musicians with little technical know-how making use of whatever third-hand gear they could get their hands on. Obviously this isn't always the case – ain't no way Trent Reznor is forced to cheap-out on his studio any more – but like its sister scene punk, industrialists take pride in how under-produced their music comes across.

It does make me wonder, though, whether it's grown ever more difficult to 'keep it real'. For sure it's possible if you use authentic gear from the '70s and '80s, but that shit don't come cheap anymore, and modern versions will always carry some upgraded polish with them, no matter how much gravel you think throwing in the chassis will help. Compounding things is the fact so much music production is done digitally now, with no amount of plug-ins hiding the fact that the music's being made on a computer. Okay, so anything electronic is technically being made on a computer, but you know what I mean – circuit boards with knobs versus DAWs. It just seems to me that EBM dudes, dudettes, and everyone in-between have to work harder than ever to sound authentic, lest they find themselves in the realms of futurepop.

Not to say Geometry Combat is one such chap dealing with such issues, as such. I honestly had little success finding any information about him (I'm assuming He, because it's quite clearly a very masculine voice going on about darkness and hammers and shit), not even a name included with liner notes, Bandcamp write-up, Lord Discogs text, or Facebook blurb. Thus, I'm not sure what his set-up is. I wouldn't be surprised if he's using old-school machines for his EBM beats, but man, hearing how low in the mix these vocals are, I'd almost be more impressed if he's using computer programs to get that sound. Anyone can bellow and snarl into a crappy mic and claim it's being vintage – try doing it with spiffy-new devices and get the same result.

When not pitting the fates of Pythagorean Theorems and Arc/Circumference Ratios against each other, Geometry Combat specializes in a fun blend of EBM and darkwave. We get the aggressive sounds of the former, with lyrics that come off more melodramatic as befitting the latter, titles like Silent God, Darkest Sins, and Deadly Armour Ceremony pretty clear in their intent. A couple pure EBM cuts make their way in the back half (Body Hammer, Striding Command), which is a nice little monotony breaker.

Most tracks are brisk and to the point, as good EBM usually is. The big outlier is a seven-plus minute long 'downtempo' cut called Teeth Of Steel Grasp At The Barriers Of Humanity, which sounds closer to the realms of proper industrial than everything else, sludgy, meandering with growling vocals and crusty guitars. All a bit too pretentious for my liking, though.

Wednesday Campanella - Superman

Warner Music Japan: 2017

The cover art to 水曜日のカンパネラ's Superman doesn't seem like much at a glance. If anything, it reminds me of Garth Brooks' weirdo-concept Chris Gaines album, and given this group's predilection towards famous people references, I can't help but suspect that's deliberate. The image, however, is but one piece of a larger canvas ...or rather, the top corner of a huge, 3x4 panel poster, revealing lead singer KOM_I (I think?) suckling a foot's large toe. Oh, and when I say huge, I mean it, one panel looking like it could hold a 7” record rather than a CD. Also, Superman didn't even come in a regular jewel case, but rather as a fold-out with a little rubber nub in one panel to hold the CD, and a cardboard insert so it doesn't flop about. This is one of the few times I've actually kept the wrap cover, just so it doesn't get damaged. And boy howdy, could I ever go on about the backside of this poster, if I had any hope of reading geometric shapes and swirling pools of kanji.

After their kinda-sorta debut mini-album Rashōmon, Suiyoubi no Campanella found themselves a fair bit of fame in their motherland, and a growing following the world abroad, such that one of the Big Important Labels came a'knockin' to hear what the fuss was about (and whether they may capitalize on it). Definitely a surprise it was Warner Music that took them in – was Sony not available?

Anyhow, bigger, slicker label backing means Wednesday Campanella's proper sophomore LP is... well, not exactly bigger, but definitely slicker. Their previous album Zipangu stood out for its free-wheeling genre fusions, and while Superman indulges itself in similar fashion, it's got a cleaner, poppier sheen to it too, smoothing out many rougher edges, as though fully expecting to capitalize on an audience in Western lands. It didn't surprise me the slightest when a co-worker heard some playing and remarked it sounded like Kygo.

And the peppy, anthem house that's marked much of their work returns in tracks like アラジン, 一休さん, and オードリー. Elsewhere, the house beats go more chill, as in チンギス・ハン and アマノウズメ. They're fine, with Kenmochi's production maintaining a solid groove while throwing in tons of little sonic fills without being obnoxious about it. I'm still more interested in the tunes that break the beats up some, even getting tribal at times as in チャップリン and カメハメハ大王. Reminds me I'm listening to something authentically foreign, rather than something trying to sound local. Not that KOM_I's playful raps and Far East harmonies don't constantly remind me either, still resolutely Japanese even with a few English words thrown in. Despite having some translations, I still don't have much idea of what she's singing about, but that doesn't really matter, the band freely admitting their lyrics are less about their content than what just sounds good for the tune. Hey, works for jazz, man.

Marnie - Strange Words And Weird Wars

Disco Pinata Records: 2017

It was never outside the realm of possibility that the members of Ladytron would strike up solo careers. A four piece synth-pop group would undoubtedly get offers to work independent here and there, especially one fronted by two ladies. It's a testament to their commitment as a band that they resisted the allure of individual fame for as long as they did. However, as the years wore on, so did the time between albums, their current hiatus since Gravity The Seducer now lasting seven years. Plenty room there to pursue some solo projects then, which members of Ladytron have done. For some reason though, I never thought Helen Marnie would try her hand at it.

I mean, if either of the frontwomen of Ladytron would go solo, I expected it to be Mira Aroyo. She always seemed the more animated of the two on stage, even back in the band's 'dispassionate synth-bots' phase. When they broke away from the unisex outfits, Mira's fashion was extroverted compared to Helen's more conservative look. Heck, Ms. Aroyo was sporting a skull bikini on the cover of Softcore Jukebox! Then again, such a pursuit would have undoubtedly further conflicted with that whole genetics studies thing, plus becoming a mother kinda' takes away from music time.

So it falls to Ms. Marnie as the great 'breakout solo star' hope of Ladytron's legacy, a narrative that seriously doesn't exist but oh you know some lazy scribes are itching at creating. Nay, seems she wanted to keep the creative fires going while Mira was doing motherhood and Reuben was doing photography. Fellow Lady-member Daniel Hunt helped her out on her first album, Crystal World, which lent it some Ladytron aesthetics, just in case the old fanbase wasn't too sure about a solo outing. For her sophomore effort though, she brought in fellow Glasgowian dummer-producer Jonny Scott, who supported her first solo tours. He's also played in groups such as Olympic Swimmers, Strike The Colours, and Take A Worm For A Walk Week. Dear Lord, are those ever some indie-sounding band names.

And that's about where we find Strange Words And Weird Wars, an indie-leaning synth-pop outing of ten tracks, each mostly in support of Ms. Marnie's pipes. Right, Helen's vocal range was never huge to begin with, so don't go expecting some power-pop diva singing here. She has her lane, she knows her lane, and she drives it as expertly as she ever has. Meaning, I'm listening to a Marnie solo album for more of those bittersweet tales of people fumbling through life, lyrics that appear simplistic on the surface but pack remarkable emotional punch should you dig further, and that cotton-candy lisp. *swoon*

Musically, we get the sort of big, shiny contemporary synth-pop that I don't often partake in (Bloom, G.I.R.L.S., Electric Youth, Invisible Girl), some slower, tasty synthwavey cuts (Lost Maps, Summer Boys, Heartbreak Kid), and, oh man, what a haunting ballad in A Girl Walks Home Alone At Night. Northern lights catch her coming down indeed.

Tholen - Sternklang

Cyclic Law: 2007

I've been collecting CDs for a quarter-century now, a good two-thirds of my lifespan. In most of that time, they come in standard jewel cases or digipaks, with an occasional spiffed-up box-set thrown in for good measure (cardboard, vinyl, wood). About the oddest things I've gotten were the metal tins from Fabric and the recycled jackets from Silent Season. These past couple months though, my God have the packaging variations ever exploded. The weird plastic cases from Spiritech, the stitched cover photos from Slaapwel, not to mention a truly bizarre offering in Wednesday Campanella's Superman (soon...).

Of all my recent hauls, however, Cyclic Law has proven consistently inconsistent, running the gamut from thick hardcover photo book (Vortex's Morloch), ultra-shiny digipak (Psychomanteum's Oneironaut), and now this for Tholen's Sternklang. What is this, exactly? I've never seen anything like it before, a simple six-panel cardboard sleeve, with an extra inch of height. Dear me, that'll never fit in a CD tower! Good thing I've long since converted to open shelving for music storage. Impracticality aside, I cannot deny it does provide better cover art.

Enough about packaging – what do we have here in Tholen's Sternklang? For that matter, what does sternklang even mean? *seven... minutes... later...* Geez'it, that Wiki page sure is filled with highfalutin music theory. Apparently “Star Sound” is a three-hour piece composed by Karlheinz Stockhausen, to be performed in an outdoor setting and involves five choirs, intoned harmonic sounds, ninth partials of the overtone series, and in proportions of the constellations Boötes and Coma Berenices. I... think Tholen's piece just uses the title as his own point of inspiration. It's definitely not as long as the Stockhausen composition.

According to Lord Discogs, Tholen – previously Rostiges Riesenrad to the folks at Grottenvolk Rundfunk – hasn't released much, this being his debut album under the alias. It's an ambitious outing, a single seventy-one minute long track taking up the CD, though the Bandcamp option breaks it up into three Parts. It probably could have been indexed further, clear segments and passages different from one another as it progresses through, but then you wouldn't be forced to hear Sternklang as a whole, as intended by the artist.

Throughout it all, Tholen takes you on the sort of dark, cosmic sojourn I've come to expect from Cyclic Law (and, er, Cyro Chamber): droning, cinematic, claustrophobic, empty, enthralling. Most of the early portions are taken up by spaced-out dark ambience, with ghostly whispers and distant sounds echoing from the infinite black. Things grow more tense by Part II, with heavier emphasis on abrasive guitar tones and piercing sonics. Part III returns to the drone for a while, indulges some minimalist mechanical menace (no, I don't want to go into cryosleep!), eventually capping off with prominent forlorn synths and melancholic melodies, as though whatever sights we saw on this cosmic journey forever fade from memory, lost to the ravages of an indifferent universe. So it goes with dark space ambient, doesn't it.

Lars Leonhard - Stella Nova

Ultimae Records: 2013

I liked 1549. I liked Passengers At Night. Why haven't I gotten any Lars Leonhard musiks since? Dude's gone mostly independent, is why, which mean self-releasing his work now. Fine and dandy, but that also means he no longer has that label backing for manufacturing hard copies, and for too long I was a stubborn bastard about buying digital. I'm now a new man though, with new perspectives and new facial hair, including lightening my spending reigns on Bandcamp options ...if there's a discount code involved at least. Thus it's only appropriate that when Ultimae offered one, I picked me up a non-physical copy of the EP that first introduced me to Lars Leonhard, Stella Nova. Finally get to hear what's behind those shiny reflective spheres!

And if anything, holy cow do these three tracks mark as close to a 'ground zero' in the label's shift into dub techno's domain as any. Right, the spacious, dubby downtempo sound was already part of Lars' style, but glancing over the surrounding releases in Ultimae's catalogue is illuminating in hindsight. Prior to this, you had stuff like Solar Fields' Origin #2 (to date still his final release), Aes Dana's uptempo Pollen, and final entries from Carbon Based Lifeforms (plus Sync24), Cell, and Hybrid Leisureland (as Connect.Ohm). After Stella Nova, you find that Passages compilation, Aes Dana's collaborations with Miktek, and eventually Martin Nonstatic. Circular's Moon Pool feels like an outlier where Ultimae went after this EP.

The titular opener is about as you'd expect of downtempo dub techno, reverb and echo tones drifting in endless space with sub-bass frequencies a guiding rudder. There's a tiny, spritely melody some two-thirds deep, reminding me of an old Alter Ego tune called Chinese Eyes. Wow, Stella Nova's a modern minimalist-dub version of that, now that I think about it.

Whispering Colors has more breathing room at nine-minutes in length, and follows in a similar path as Stella Nova, though with a flowing, swaying swing to its rhythm. There's also more melody present in this tune, but the dubby stabs still dominate most of the frequencies. Hidden Places gets on that bleepy techno vibe with cascading echo effects pinging about. It's about as far from what you'd expect from the Ultimae sound of yore, but definitely what you'd expect from Ultimae of yeh'e. I don't know what the present-tense of “yore” is.

That's all there is to this EP. If you're at all familiar with Lars Leonhard's brand of dubby downtempo techno, you're in safe hands here. Stella Nova comes more off as an introduction of the man to the Ultimae faithful, testing the waters whether his sound would jive with a label known more for its psy-chill output. He did release another EP with them the following year (Burning Clouds), but by the time he came out with another full-length, he'd gone back to BineMusic for the deal. Kinda' feels like ol' Lars was one that got away from Ultimae in the end.