Autumn Of Communion - Polydeuces

...txt: 2016

Oh ho, another album I got a digital version of due to over-inflated out-of-print CD scarcity? Nah, fam', I actually did take the Discogs Marketplace route with this one, the alluring cover art of Saturn constantly drawing me to its page for a lovingly glance, all the while scoping for a chance 'discount' opportunity. And lo', one did emerge, for a 'reasonable' €25 - still a tad over what I would normally pay for a CD, but about as good as I figured I'd ever get on the used market. Besides, the seller was Mick Chillage himself, and seeing as how he likely never saw a single penny for those records I bought from Psychonavigation Records, I guess it's fair he receives a little extra financial compensation on this one.

So, Polydeuces, the first album Autumn Of Communion (Chillage and Lee Norris, in case you're just tuning in) released after all their prior albums had been numerical self-titled outings. It also marked the start of the duo's more freeform approach to songcraft, going in with little preconceived notion of what music they'd make, what sounds they'd build, what gear they'd utilize. They'd go full-tilt with the concept in the following Broken Apart... series, but here it sounds as though they're still in a feeling-out process, figuring out just how in-sync their musical synergy truly was when they're simply letting things flow as they go. Mind, I still only have Autumn Of Communion 4 as a base of comparison with their older material, their other albums just as out-of-print as this one. Except for that massive box-set they released, which I skipped on because, eh, I already have four of their albums now. Seemed redundant to get them again, y'know, especially having just sprung for this one on the Discogs Marketplace. Hmm, the timing on that, now that I think about it...

Anyhow, five main tracks are contained within Polydeuces, most hovering in the ten-to-thirteen minute mark, with a tiny three-minute stinger at the end. With titles like Oort Cloud and Cassini Spacecraft (squeee!), you bet we're on some space-age vibes here. Um, there's also tracks called Tectonics and Sikhote-Alin Mountains, about as earthly of concepts as you can get. And finally, a pair of tracks called Cathode Memory and Kolbe Reaction, which brings things down to the microscopic realms. Is it any surprise these tracks are conceptually arranged from 'bigness' to 'smallness'?

Naturally, we're mostly in ambient's domain here. Some tracks come off like long-lost compositions for a Hearts Of Space planetarium score, others edging closer to the realms of ambient techno, often within the same track. For a supposed freeform approach to creating these pieces, each track never feels like it's just randomly dawdling about, and Tectonics even offers a bit of an ear-wormy hook, in that understated ambient techno sort of way. I doubt Polydeuces will convert anyone to Autumn Of Communion's charms, but at seven albums deep, Mick and Lee deserved a little creative indulgence.

Cryogenic Weekend - Polar Sleep

Reverse Alignment: 2018

Some days, the world gets you down, and you want to escape it all, but where? Space flight to distant stars is still in the realm of sci-fi fantasy, and despite what Disney movies suggest, running under the sea solves nothing – just a vast, barren abyss, carrion eaters looking for any score. And everywhere else, there's people. In the forests, on the mountains, in the deserts... people everywhere! The polar regions though, ain't hardly anyone 'round those parts. You could reside there and not see a soul for ages.

Heck, if other sci-fi stories are believable, one could go to an Antarctic glacier, bury yourself in the ice, and remain in cryo sleep for centuries, presumably waking up in the future when things are different. Right, there's a chance things are worse in the future after such a sleep (re: Sabled Sun), but they could be better too! And if it doesn't work, well, at least one will have gotten a nice, lonely sleep, with none of the worries of the world bothering you. Unless... you're not so alone in all that ice as you thought. Who knows what could be frozen away for a millennia, sleeping, waiting for such a time that mankind's hubris melts its glacial prison, unleashing it upon an unsuspecting civilization. And hey, if I just happened to be snoozing beside it in that time, maybe we can be, like, bunk buddies, me serving as a right-hand man in its impending rampage. Or it's first sacrifice. I ain't picky.

Cryogenic Weekend is a collaborative effort between Dronny Darko and Oil Texture, the latter of which I know little of. Apparently the two had never met, but somehow found each other to create a couple mini-albums of frigid dronescapes as their inspiration. Sounds like someone's been feeling that Ugasanie vibe! As is Reverse Alignment's wont, the label compiled the two mini-albums for a CD release, with Cryogenic Weekend throwing in a third CD's worth of extra material for a triple-LP outing in Polar Sleep. Holy cow, this is gonna' be as though I am trapped within the frozen wastes, isn't it?

Well, this album sure is a lengthy drone fest, of that there's no doubt. There's fourteen tracks total, which may not seem like a lot, but considering it's three CDs worth, there's no small cuts here (save five-minute Darkest Glide). There also aren't any obscenely long tracks, most hovering around the ten-to-twelve minute mark, with a few reaching a few minutes longer. And yeah, it's all foreboding, desolate, claustrophobic, icy drone ambient, almost no hint of melody in earshot. There's some field recordings scattered about (burbling and churning in Flotation Tank, radio chatter in Who Couldn't Remember, barking dogs in Faraday Station ...oh God, why are the dogs barking!?), and Towa Tödo features lonesome bell tones. Beyond that though, you're in for one deep descent into the frozen fringes of icy ambient. Be sure to wear a parka and bring a flame-thrower for your headphones.

Peter Broderick - Partners

Erased Tapes Records: 2016

I'm perusing the Ultimae online record shop, sifting through a bunch of items, when one with a striking cover catches my eye, as cover art is wont to do. Like, it's not derelict boats, but dead trunks of trees strewn across a beach, bathed in the dark blue of pre-dawn (maybe), it triggers something within my grey matter of a wistful past. I'm certain this is a shot of the Oregon Coast, a lovely strip of Earth where the endless Pacific crashes upon sandy dunes, filling the surrounding lands with salty air (wait...). It's not too dissimilar to the regions of the West Coast Of Canada that I grew up in, though my locales were far more rocky than the Oregon sands, due to all the fjords creating different erosion conditions. See, with all the power of the Pacific crashing down, waves and wind can erode coasts with ease, but fjords limit that process, all the while creating larger tidal pools where a multitude of crabs, shellfish, starfish, regular fish, and seaweed flourish. Life as we know it may not have existed without these tide pools! Not that I'm saying sandy beaches are over-rated, but c'mon, give those slimey, slippery rock beaches with the gas-filled seaweed that squeaks and pops when you walk over it, as though crying in pain from your negligence, a little respect, yo'.

ANYHOW, I just had to buy Peter Broderick's album blind. Like, I thought the name looked a little familiar, and it turned out I had seen it as part of the Slaapwel Records catalogue, plus an interview with Resident Advisor, but that was the extent of my recognition of the man. Looking through his Discoggian data reveals a lot of albums released in the past decade on a number of labels I don't know of (Kning Disk, Digitalis Limited, Fang Bomb, Hush Records, Brian Records, Type), though he's made Erased Tapes Records a semi-home as of late. He's also run the gamut in terms of musical leanings, indulging in folk rock, dream pop, and modern classical, to name-drop a few.

It's in the modern classical camps we find Partners, and of the 'minimalist piano as played in an grand empty concert hall' variety at that. I didn't know that when I bought the album, and after hearing the opening track, I thought I was in for something entirely different, some sort of spoken-word poetry record. That's just the first track though, and there's an exhaustive detailing behind the process it came about, which ties into the second track, Mr. Broderick's take on the John Cage composition In A Landscape. Cage's deconstructionist methods inspired Peter's own piano pieces, something about rolling dice, assigning numbers to notes, re-rolling to determine their order... It's all rather artistically pretentious sounding, but the music itself is quite pleasant, with subtle electronic touches and treatments filling in the ambience. Definitely an album where the process can be a tad thick, but it doesn't detract from the finished product.

Mahiane - Oxycanta

Ultimae Records: 2006

After years (a decade!) of ducking, dodging, denying, and diatribing, I've finally relinquished. Oh, you knew such a time would come wherein I'd go back on my word, my proclamation, my mantra. The ceaseless thrust of progress demands sacrifice, tossing the norms of old into the tempestuous Cauldron Of Change (defeat a Level 72 balrog to attain said cauldron!), including a music collector's steadfast ideology that if a physical copy of an item exists, he shall not buy the digital version. What is said music collector to do, though? There exist artifacts of old that, while attainable, are financially unfeasible to procure. Maybe a time will come when such items work their way out of the over-inflated collector's market, and into the more practical used market, but so long as the demand exists, so too do the scalpers. And out-of-print Ultimae CDs, the demand is high indeed.

It is thus, under such circumstances, that I sprung for the digital releases of a few such select items in their catalogue. I choose them sparingly, logically, knowing the odds of them seeing any sort of re-issue at this late point is nil. The albums, they all have some chance of resuscitation, but the second-tier compilations, what hope have they? None, common sense tells me, so it is with defeated resignation that I finally complete my Oxycanta collection with the digital version of the first in the series, released a year before I knew the label even existed.

Still, I get some small sense of rhyming the circle, or echoing my mirror, or whatever cliche you prefer. It was the second Oxycanta – Winter Blooms, that truly lured me into Ultimae's fold and all the wonderful, panoramic sonic delights the label could offer. It makes sense I finish the path I started with as I embark upon another undiscovered country.

As this is mid-'00s Ultimae, you know you're in good hands music-wise, the label really hitting its stride. Music includes all the main players of the time (Asura, Solar Fields, Aes Dana, one-half of CBL), plus a couple future luminaries to grace their discography (Cell, Hybrid Leisureland). Kind of disappointing that some of their tracks have appeared elsewhere, making Oxycanta a tad redundant for the Ultimae completist, but you also get a couple exclusives from these dudes too, so all balances out. Scope out the compilation to find out which I'm referring to!

As for the rest of the tracklist, it includes some rather unknown ambient composers (Between Interval's Aerolith reminds me of Space Ace's Sea Of Japan - now that's an obscure call-back!), the Ultimae office posse (Vincent, Mahiane, Dessaeaux) collaborating for a tune as Subgardens, and a track from Omnimotion. Wait, the same Omnimotion that appeared on Waveform Records? Why, so it is! Small world, eh? His ultra-blissed ambient piece Magic Tree's a wonderful meditative closer to Oxycanta, with sounds like a tall, creaking tree slowly swaying in the wind as you chill among its branches. Gravity never felt so irrelevant.

ACE TRACKS: September 2018

Ah, the 2018 releases are finally trickling in. Slowly, steadily, but surely enough. It just takes a bit of time for me to gather up some items that interest me, for them to filter through my convoluted alphabetical systematic approach in consuming them, and finally find my thoughts course through the neural membranes sending signals to the bones, tendons, tissues, and muscles that control my arms and fingers typing them such that they can be transmitted via other electronic pulses into a-

You know what, let's just end this here. We all know how long this path of over-explaining the blogging process can go. Still, it's remarkable all the little things that must correctly happen for my thoughts to have a chance to enter your eyeballs, no matter where you reside on this little life-sustaining ellipsoid. I'm getting way to philosophical right now, so *poop joke*, and we're off the ACE TRACKS of September 2018.


Full track list here.


MISSING ALBUMS:
B°TONG - Monastic
Kubinski - Life Boy

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 6%
Percentage Of Rock: 0% ...unless you want to count folky Young and glitched-up Sweet Trip rock.
Most “WTF?” Track: Either some of those Dr. Octagon lyrics, or hearing the minor-trap in Perturbator. (it just not done, mang!)

Pretty good playlist, all round. Enough variety to keep things interesting as it plays, with a few genres getting the shine over others if you've a preference for it (yeah yeah, ambient always dominates). I know it's a wild coincidence, but I'm surprised how some of the Patreon Request music meshed well together. You'd think different people would have radically different albums they'd want highlighted, but maybe I've cultivated a certain kind of audience?

Sweet Trip - Velocity : Design : Comfort

Darla Records: 2003

(a Patreon Request from Philoi)

This is what happens when indie kids discover IDM. Okay, that's not fair, Sweet Trip having debuted with an album that cribbed from acid and jungle drum programming. They were even featured on a couple compilations called Drum & Bliss - what, was Chill & Bass already taken? - and while such a title sounds daft, after hearing their tune Follow Me, yeah, it fits. However, considering their third and final album went full-in with the shoegazey dream-pop, it makes this middle album of Velocity : Design : Comfort stand out all that much more. With fancy production tools and tricks pioneered by ADHD studio rats and IDM wonks far more accessible by the year 2003, such that You Too could create a frenetic glitch-hop schmoze-fest if you so fancied, it seems Sweet Trip fancied it indeed.

I can only imagine the shock older fans had when first throwing this album on, opener Tekka a spastic glitchy, breakcore ditty, leagues removed from whatever 'drum and bliss' business Darla Records initially billed Sweet Trip as. But then it moves onto Dsco, as standard a gentle dance-punk jam as you'd ever hear. Familiar indie territory then, but completely out of sorts from that opener. I cannot deny wondering if this was even the same album, despite all evidence proving it was.

Velocity : Design : Comfort essentially plays out like that for the duration: glitchy IDM stuff, followed by dreamy indie fluff, often within the same track. The rock stuff, I quite like, though as I don't take in much of it in my regular music diet, I've no clue how it stands against the great contemporary dream pop pantheon. In any case, whenever tunes like Velocity, Sept, Chocolate Matter and Fruitcake And Cookies let the indie vibes through (mmm, such lovely vocal harmonies between Roby and Valerie), I'm down.

And that's funny, because I'm not an indie guy – I'm a 'techno' guy. You'd think it'd be all the electronic stuff that tickles my fancy – the twee glitch-hop of International and steady groove of Design : 1 sure do - but there's just so much glitch (just... so much), I too often find it excessively distracting and pointless. Like, all those stutters and fills in the minimalist To All The Dancers Of The World, why do that? The song's fine without them, and they add nothing beyond showing off some technical wankery. Are they there because they can be there? They don't have to be though. Why is this so dense, with so much going on all the time? You had enough sense to leave them out in the dreamy, wall-of-sound climax of the song, so why not the rest?

Hey, to some ears, such wankery is genius. I'm not about to deny them their thoughts. I'm sure that's even part of The Point in this album's concept (it's in the title, mang!). It just comes off needlessly overstuffed to my ears, and maybe even Sweet Trip's too, since they abandoned all that gimmickry when they released their third album. Just sayin'.

Lusine - A Certain Distance

Ghostly International: 2009

(a Patreon Request from Omskbird)

Jeff McIlwain (ergh, there's that 'upper case, lower case' thing again) seems like the sort of producer I should have stumbled upon more recently than via a Patreon Request. And while I do have a single track of his under his L'usine handle, it comes care of a James Zabiela Renaissance Masters set that must have completely passed me by, as I failed to name-drop him in that review. Yet taking in his back-catalogue, I'm hearing things I like, and would have vibed on had I come across them sooner. Well, maybe not so much that self-titled first album, itself treading into the sterile domain of serious IDM. Following that though, it seems Mr. McIlwain fell sway to Boards Of Canada-itis, slowing his songcraft down to a laid-back trip-hop tempo with warm, hazy melodies, while still retaining some of his glitchier tendencies. Then Wolfgang Voigt made shoegazey ambient dronescapes popular with Pitchfork sorts, so we got to hear a little of that as well in subsequent albums. Along the way, Jeff hooked up with Ghostly International, they the home of such Very Important people in the world of techno like Matthew Dear, Solvent, Tycho, and Com Truise. Ah, that's probably why I kinda' flaked on L'usine: my nonsensical instinct to bypass labels techno journalists sing praises of. I blame minimal's overexposure for this gut reaction. No no, it's fine, minimal all too aware of its past sins – it's a burden it can bear.

Anyhow, despite having crafted a half-dozen LPs by the end of the '00s, A Certain Distance was only McIlwain's second proper album with Ghostly International (Podgelism being a remix album of Serial Hodgepodge). Trends had definitely continued changing in all that time, and Jeff had no problem keeping his L'usine project at pace with them. Oh yes, there's blip-bloop, white-noise tech-haus on here, though only one track, Every Disguise. Ignore its hilariously dated hausiness, and enjoy the tunes that haven't dated so much.

Yeah, that opener Operation Costs, with it's low-key electro funk and toasty-crisp glitch, that's the stuff (apparently also the tune on that aforementioned Zabiela set – how did I miss this?). Or how about a song that wouldn't be out of place on a classic Hed Kandi chill-out CD, Two Dots a peppy electro glitch-pop romp featuring soul-jazz singing from Vilja Larjosto - Twilight and, to a lesser extent, Gravity, also get in on that action. Wait, you came here because you fell sway to L'usine's earlier IDM-hop? Don't worry, Jeff has you covered with Tin Hat and Baffle. And don't worry, disc-jockeys, you get your dancefloor pounds of flesh as well in Crowded Room (smooth electro house) and Cirrus (pure crowd pleasing anthem, in that muted Booka Shade vein). Man, hearing how effective these two tracks are only highlights how out-of-place Every Disguise comes off. Please don't tell me Every Disguise somehow ended up the most rinsed-out tune off this album. A Certain Distance has far better tunes on it than that one.

Pan Sonic - A

Mute: 1999

(a Patreon Request)

Who knew Scandinavians to be ahead of the techno curve? While Detroit was getting minimal and Germany was getting dubby, a little trio out of Finland were exploring the extreme end of experimental. Consisting of Mika Vainio, Ilpo Väisänen, and Sami Salo, their productions bridged the decades-old gap between techno's futurist outlook and musique conrete's dated art-noise. Okay, that's unfair, plenty of 'interesting' electronic sonic doodles and Pollock paintings by way of vacuum tubes and radio transistors having emerged from this scene. Still, you gotta' be all in with this, or it'll just come off as the random sounds heat radiators or telephone boxes create on a fussy night. Of course, this all became super-trendy once Very Important techno DJs began raiding labels Mille Plateaux and Raster-Noton for a little variety in the sets, but Panasonic was among the first to do it with some level of recognition.

Whoops, sorry, I mean Pan Sonic. Obviously their original handle wasn't gonna' fly with the increased international exposure. Along with losing the 'a' though, they also lost Sami Salo, who had a promising NHL career ahead of him, sporting one of the heaviest slap-shots the league had ever seen. Perhaps not a Hall Of Famer, but still, a top four d-man on whatever team he played for. Just a shame his career was derailed by frequent injuries, such that- Eh? It's a different Sami Salo? Wow, the odds! I mean, he joined the NHL right about the same time as the Panasonic Sami Salo left. That's too much of a coincidence.

Mika and Ilpo may have lost an 'a' (and a Salo), but they still got some use out of it, cheekily sliding the letter onto the spine of the CD case and using it as the title of their third album. As Pan(a)Sonic were definitely in the mix of the new Trendy Techno discourse, there was probably a little pressure in crafting an album that lived up to whatever hype was generated in their favour. Figures they'd almost completely abandon techno for the sake of sonic experiments, then.

I suppose A firmly sits in the IDM camps, though the clinical sterility of the genre isn't so prevalent. Tracks like Maa, Askel, and A-Kemia, for instance, feature nice reverb and echo among its low throbs, clicky percussion and drone tones. Lomittain has a cool, low-ridin' groove going for it. Telakoe is almost an 'ardcore track, though sounds more jokey than po-faced. And Voima could have fit snuggly as a b-side remix on some industrial rock single.

That's only five tracks out of seventeen though, and while a number of the rest are ninety second doodles, there's a wi-i-i-ide gap between 'real' tunes and musique concrete dithering on this album. I get that's the point, Pan Sonic crafting a huge pit of near-nothingness between the noisier tracks on A - makes Talakoe and Voima stand out more. If you've never dug the experimental side electronic music's non-musical potential though, A won't convert you either.

Solar Fields - Ourdom

Sidereal: 2018

After years of forlorn name-drops on my part, Magnus Birgersson finally returns with a new Solar Fields album! Only... it's not on Ultimae, Mr. Birgesson having since gone the independent route. Eh, that's honestly no surprise, his former label taking a path far removed from the lane Magnus traditionally operates from. Still, it can't help but feel like an old family has grown distant from each other, hanging out with different friends and scenes. One of them even ended up palling with creepy Goth kids.

The Solar Fields brand has kept active since his last proper album (all the way back in 2012!), mostly with reissues of his back-catalogue. With that all out of the way though, and nothing better to do than to hit the studio again with some fresh ideas and fresh perspectives in a fresh climate (about as fresh as something in the state of Denmark, sadly), we finally have ourselves an honest-to-God, bonafide and true full-length outing of fresh material from Solar Fields, Ourdom. Erm, an odd title, that. Is it supposed to be a portmanteau of 'our kingdom'? Ooh, let me try one: allingetherness!

When Carbon Based Lifeforms made their return/debut on Blood Music (!), the album came off as though they were hitting all their classic songcraft spots, perhaps showcasing it to a different audience. While I'm certain folks buying Ourdom are almost exclusively long-standing fans, I can't help but feel like this album's doing the same, giving us a traditional Solar Fields album, hitting many of the same pacing and tonal points as records past, as though he's reintroducing himself to a new audience. Or at least reminding folks of his steez.

Like, it's got that inexplicable mega-opulent grande crescendo piece (Into The Sun) as only the third track. Most producers couldn't craft an album climax this massive if they tried, and here's ol' Magnus laying one out barely a quarter through Ourdom. Heck, he pulls it again with Joshua's Shop, and there's four tracks after that. Plus, it just isn't a Solar Fields album without some incredibly twee melodies to trigger your childhood sentiments with (Forgiveness, A Long Tailed Bird Whispered). Or if you preferred it when Solar Fields cranked out the trance vibes, he's got you covered twice with Mountain King and Moving Lines, and neither close the album out. And while the final few tracks don't reach such energetic highs, they still run the gamut from epic (Parallel Universe) to grandeur (The Daylight Carrier) to pure relaxation (Siren Song Of Glass).

Ourdom is essentially a four-part album (perfect for one side of a two-vinyl option, fancy that), each segment offering a general taste of Solar Fields' many facets. What I find oddest about Ourdom is how each segment seems to breeze by, yet taken in as a whole, the album somehow stretches beyond the standard CD runtime. I'm more than stuffed and sated by Joshua's Shop, but Magnus just keeps feedin' me, an' feedin' me, an' feedin' me...

Cygna - Opus Ena

iT Records/Ultimae Records: 2011/2014

I thought to myself, here's another digital-only item from Ultimae Records, a part of their push to expand into that market along the likes of Lars Leonhard and all those Nuit Hypnotique #4 releases. I may as well round out that part of my Ultimae collection with this single, thought I, since I'm splurging a little, Opus Ena truly sporting one of the most eye-catching pieces of cover art the label's ever offered – such a lush, deep blue.

It was honestly only after I played it back that I realized this Cygna release was, in fact, of album length, not an EP like those Leonhard releases. Which was fine – more music to enjoy and all – but found it strange that Ultimae would release an LP as a digital-only item. Then I recently discovered that Opus Ena had, in fact, already been released on CD a few years prior on ultra-obscure Greek label iT Records, and that this Ultimae version was a reissue. Oh man, that directly flies in the face of my “don't buy digital if CD is available” mantra, but how was I to know? Save the odd Ultimae compilation track, I'd never heard of Cygna before, so had no hope of stumbling across Opus ένα (Symphonic Ambient Works) without a deep Discoggian dive. I don't feel tricked or anything, but man, I've a rep' to maintain here. It's not my fault! It's not my fault...

Cygna is Mario Sammut, and was part of that Grecian talent raid Ultimae did that included such names like MikTek and Ambientium. Cygna first appeared with Aes Dana's label on the final Fahrenheit Project compilation, and popped up here and there along the way. Lord Discogs doesn't have much other material from him however, and though his Flash website features an exhaustively detailed biography, there hasn't been any updates for a few years now, much less anything uploaded to his Soundcloud. It would seem Mr. Sammut has put Cygna on hiatus, though watch him put out another album within the next few months, effectively making my statement instantly dated. Happens a lot.

Given Ultimae's general move towards minimalist, dubby downtempo and techno in this period, Opus Ena is quite an outlier, sounding more like the label's earlier forays into widescreen downtempo and world beat. Mario likes his traditional classical instruments, see, showing little fear throwing in acoustic guitars, woodwinds, chants, orchestral strings, ethnic drumming, the works. Reminds me quite a bit of Asura whenever he got his Hollywood Historical Epic score on, though Cygna goes for a more mysterious vibe compared to Asura's opulence in such compositions.

The seven tracks are densely packed with instrumentation, with each featuring something unique in the lead. Caucasus is rhythm heavy, while Euclidean Subspace let the synths take charge. Ada is mostly on that guitar 'n strings stylee, while Oubliée Et Perdue goes minimalist with pianos and string drones. Ah, there had to be something jiving with the nu-Ultimae in this album.