Supercar - Highvision

Ki/oon: 2002

(a Patreon Request from Philoi)

Not shockingly, most reviews I write are filled with regurgitated factoids from other sources. Having gorged myself in certain scenes, however, I've some insight into artists, genres, and trends that may not be readily available elsewhere – I feel confident when I wax the bull about Ambient Album #314,219,110, it's with some knowledge on the matter. Even stuff I'm not so boned up on, like Japanese indie rock and pop, I can usually find some additional info, giving me a stronger foundation to work from – the wiki on Wednesday Campanella was most helpful. This Supercar though, I'm just not finding much from English sources, save one Hell of a loving 'review' for this particular album on Sputnik Music.

Holy cow, but does user davidwave4 ever get into it more than I could possibly hope to, settling for nothing less than calling Highvision Supercar's Kid A. That's... quite a comparison to make there, mang', one I've no idea is apt or not. Like, there's nothing on this album that sounds like Kid A - certainly no ambient drone pieces like Treefingers - but he's not making a one-to-one music relation. Rather, he's comparing Supercar's discographical narrative to Radiohead's, with Futurama being their OK Computer, thus Highvision their Kid A. More succinctly, Futurama was the schizophrenic embracing of technology, while Highvision is the uncertain merging, accepting that change has come, and we must make do with that reality no matter how unsettling it makes us feel. Sure, guy, you go with that. I never dove deep into Radiohead's music, so have to take other people's word that such proclamations of “this is [artist]'s Kid A” as legit. By the by, when did Kid A supplant Sgt. Pepper's that way?

Right, I should get into Highvision on my own terms, which means the best I can provide is a 'dumb listen'. No deep analysis of lyrics (I can't understand them most of the time, just like Radiohead's Thom Yorke!) or genre dissertation – just simple “d'is music do this, it make me feel like d'is!” interpretations. And whoa, that's quite the distorted techno kick opening things up in Starline. There's still a regular drum kit in play too, just with an added 909 crunchy-thunk. Then there's shoegazey guitars, dream pop singing, and it feels as though I'm being lulled into a hazy headspace. That's definitely a change of tone compared to the upbeat dance number of Futurama's Changes.

And that vibe is mostly maintained throughout Highvision, a remarkable feat considering the disparate styles of music among these ten tunes. Songs flit between electro-pop ditties (Warning Bell, Strobolights, I), shoegaze rock-outs (Storywriter, Otogi Nation), dreamy dance jangles (Yumegiwawa Last Boy), and whatever orchestra electro-glitch thing Nijiiro Darkness is. Heck, there's even a thematic return with closer Silent Yaritori, that crunchy 909 kick reappearing. And best of all, Highvision leaves me feeling elated and high in spirit, which is a better feeling than the dourness of Kid A.

Vector Lovers - Afterglow

Soma Quality Recordings: 2007

I sure wasn't expecting this. My lone exposure to Vector Lovers around this point was the Late Shift / Babette EP, two tracks clearly with tech-house DJs in mind, and which I assumed his most recent album, Afterglow, mostly focused on. Never mind neither track appeared on the album, and that they were released on a label that has nothing to do with Mr. Wheeler's usual outlet. It's just standard practice that, within a window of a couple years, the music on EPs will sound like the music on LPs. And while those were fine for what they are, they didn't urge me to check out Afterglow, presumptuous as I was in thinking it'd be a record full of the stuff. I mean, geez, there wasn't any of the electro-anime aesthetic that made me love his self-titled debut.

I was half-right. Afterglow is definitely a much different beast compared to Vector Lovers and Capsule For One. Rather than dealing with feelings of loneliness in a hyper-technological age though, this album shoots far further into the future, in the aftermath of a nuclear wasteland. There's still that characteristic Martin Wheeler melancholy lurking in the melodies, but they're far more sparse and isolated, a sadder, darker tone permeating the atmosphere as a barely surviving civilization comes to grips with just how fucked up shit has turned.

Okay, Afterglow may not specifically be about that. I mean, that ominous mushrooming glow in the background of the cover art could be the sun setting over a hilltop. On the other hand, the opening track is called Half-Life, which mostly features Geiger Counter pops, despondent strings, and the sounds of something scuffling through abandoned radio frequencies. I'm pretty sure the Fallout games start like that.

Following Half-Life, we get tracks with titles like Far Side Of The Tracks, Rusting Cars And Wild Flowers, Piano Dust, and Dusk Panorama, all painting a rather bleak and desolate vista from which this music dwells. And things don't lighten within the the tunes themselves, a fair bit of empty space and twitchy experimentation going on throughout. Even the tracks with those vintage twee Vector Lovers melodies can't escape the ominous overtones. Example: an inky, oozing bassline accompanying the chipper, sliding leads in A Field. Of what few 'upbeat' tunes Martin provides, even they can't escape the omnipresent gloom. Crash Premonition features what sounds like klaxon bells echoing from the distance before settling into a groovy tech-house number, complete with lyrics about the freedom of the open road, long lost in this wasteland. No funky dancing robots in this place.

Overall, Afterglow reminds me of Boards Of Canada's Tomorrow's Harvest, similar ideas and themes explored, though through Wheeler's electro-glitch lens. And despite a slight glimmer of hope emerging in the titular closer (nature reclaiming its lost lands), this is one depressing album. It's a good kind of depression, mind you, the sort you savour for rainy days, but man, do I need to mentally prep for it before going in.

Various - Aeon Nemesis

Werkstatt Recordings: 2014

Aww yeah, this is exactly what's lured me into synthwave, isn't it? Retro futurism, cosmic setting, video game cockpit, vector grids galore. And ooh, can't forget that potential narrative brewing. What is the Aeon Nemesis? An inter-dimensional being we must fight? The concept of defeating time itself? Just a couple of cool sounding words slapped together for marketing purposes? So many conceptual possibilities, these synthwave albums, and what better way to truly explore those limitless ideas than rounding up a bunch of producers with similar muses for a big ol' label showcase? That'll get folks digging deeper into the back-catalogue, no doubt.

If you're wondering how I ended up with so many Werkstatt Recordings items, it's because of compilations like this. Get the main feature, plus a bulk deal on CDs with tie-in artists. From this, I nabbed Beatbox Machinery (of course), Toxik Synther, Advanced UFO Phantom, plus a nifty t-shirt with Arcade Metropolis' logo across. Funny thing, regarding that t-shirt. When I wear it to work, a co-worker inquiries whether it's in association with the Arcade Metropolis once located in downtown Vancouver (before the dark times; before the gentrification). Naturally not, but does that ever bring back memories, wandering the once seedier side of the city's urban core, where all manner of strange, darkened places warned that only surly teenagers could enter. To say nothing of the striking mannequins my father would suddenly flush with embarrassment should we venture past on the way to a second-hand music shop. Man, downtown Vancouver was a different beast back when. Not quite Times Square pre-Rudy or anything, but there's a reason many pick-up shots for a Manhattan-based movie would be done in Vancouver.

Anyhow, I had a'lotta anticipation going into this one, as cool cover art is wont to do upon my psyche. You'd think after so many years led astray by dodgy psy trance CDs with cool cover art that I'd learn it, too, can happen in other scenes, especially ones as filled with amateur producers as synthwave. It's not that the music within Aeon Nemesis is piss-poor or anything, but it doesn't lift itself to the standards I've gone and set for myself either. Yes, I've actually developed 'standards' for synthwave – there's only so much time I can give to the endless options this genre now has, and I don't need to waste it on middle-of-the-road material.

A few tracks do offer some nifty ideas, like Beta Grid's hip-hop electro-acid Omni-Halo Matrix, Liege Viper's peppy outrun outing of Rising Star, and Arcade Metropolis' epic excursion of Take Hold Of The Flame - at six-minutes of runtime, it easily outpaces everything else on this compilation. Unfortunately, little else stands out from the synthwave glut, and nothing really highlights or builds upon whatever theme Aeon Nemesis was going for. It's just another collection of synthwave tunes, though did come with some cool extra swag if you jumped on it first run. Werkstatt's swag game is always on point.

Lars Leonhard - Adrift In Time

self release: 2018

What does one do when an artist you like has so many albums available as a digital-only option, but you've developed a silly stance of only buying physical items? The logical course of action is to forego such a backwards-ass position, and do the right and proper thing of moving forward with the times, accepting that digital-only music is a viable and totally acceptable means of procuring tunes these days. However, I'm not so logical. In my mind, if I maintain long, unyielding hope that one day, Lars Leonhard would find a willing label to make hard-copy versions of all those stockpiled Bandcamp albums, there's no need to spring for a digital version. And lo', my illogical hope doth bore fruit, Mr. Leonhard's music finally finding its way to discs of aluminum, care of... Mr. Leonhard himself? Ah, well, if you want something done, sometimes you gotta' do it yourself, right?

That being said, it seemed releasing music on BineMusic gave his LPs a sense of focus. Whether it was retelling tales of aborted airline flights or odes to those traversing the lonely rail cars late at night, there were clear stories on those works. His stuff since, however, appears broader in scope, titles like Erstwhile, Deep Venture and Interstellar suggesting music with less narrative focus, and rather capturing certain moods and atmosphere. Such remains the case with Adrift In Time, one of three albums Lars released this past year (holy cow!). Like, what, exactly, is adrift in time? Lars' muse? The listener as they listen? The sounds as they play out, streaming on an ever-lasting electromagnetic wavelength to the furthest reaches of the cosmos? No, wait, that's probably Interstellar's game. And it's not like the Bandcamp copy gives a clear idea either, essentially stating that this is Leonhard music for its own sake. Okay, that's good enough for me.

Playful nitpicking aside, Adrift In Time pretty much is exactly the sort of music I've come to expect from Lars, and welcome indeed. Downtempo music that never meanders. Dub techno sounds that remember to work in a little melody. Deep layers of pads and reverb that let you get lost in cavernous headphone space. A few gentle nudges into the cinematic soundscapes, though only the most sweeping shots of nature's splendour will suffice. Actually, check that. Given the track titles have something of an earthy, geomorphology bent to them (Onyx, Sparks, Grounded, Highlands, Saphir), I imagine mostly static images of landforms, played out as time-lapse movies, the achingly gradual shifting of masses over the ages. Seems right up dub techno's general aesthetic, such visuals.

Mostly, Adrift In Time keeps things on the downbeat, with only a couple tracks upping the tempo towards anything club friendly (Onyx, Sparks). Not that Lars is generally a DJ friendly producer, but it has been part of his repertoire over the years. Not on this outing though, these tunes intended for chilling back with superior sound-systems at your disposal.

I:Cube - Adore

Versatile Records: 1999

An album I've long looked forward to talking about, but also kinda' feared doing so. For some, I:Cube's sophomore effort is among the glistening jewels of criminally overlooked French house gems, a record that should have been at the tips of everyone's tongue come the new millennium, and cemented Nicolas Chaix among the upper elite of clubland's tastemakers. I suppose I rank myself among those “some”, Adore blowing my mind when I stumbled upon it. I knew of him, tracks like Le Dub and the titular cut appearing on mixes and compilations in my collection, but I had no idea he was this versatile. Maybe I should have, what with his appearing on Versatile Records.

Yet despite getting playlisted by a wide range of DJs over the years, I:Cube never broke through to the rarefied French air acts like Daft Punk and AIR occupy. Mr. Chaix' project remained an underground darling, one that heady wax spinners expose to an unsuspecting audience at those 'perfect moments' in a set. Then someone in that audience will run up to the DJ, eyes alight with wonderment, inquiring, “Dude! What was that song? It was so funky and deep!” And the DJ will smile with a slight nod, knowing his job was done, and he could now comfortably return to his home planet. “Gastro Funk,” he replies. “Gastro Funk by I:Cube.” Then the punter will furiously tap through his smartphone options, voraciously searching online for that one jam he heard that night, saving it for a future playlist. It's a tale as old as time.

Adore has all that I've ever wanted in a French-pop, electro-dub, deep house record. The titular opener hits you with sweeping strings and groovy-chill Latin rhythms, La La La hits you with the swingin' funk and French soul, Le Dub and Tropiq go deeper down the dub lane, and Cash Conv. gets a little techy with I:Cube's deep house stylee. A bunch of nonsense happens for a few tracks, then we're right back into the deep house bliss of Deep Republic, Pooh Pah (it makes sense when you hear the 'lyrics'), and ultra-deep dub techno of Dans la Piece Vide (DeepChord approved, I'm sure).

Eh, that skipped over bit? It's nothing. No, it's nothing! Okay, it's something. What holds Adore back from being a nigh-perfect record, is what. Yeah, my opinion and all, but seriously, the noisy, abrasive stabs at loud club fodder always sound out of place compared to the proper-deep vibes the rest of Adore cultivates. Caca Carnival at least has a little pep to it when it's not indulging those farty noises, and Lak does bring things back to the deep electro, though its drifting out of key leaves a sour taste on my ears. These tracks don't break the album, but sadly blemish it enough such that I honestly don't return to Adore as often as I'd like. Ah well, at least it lets me savour the rest all that much more when I do return.

Pet Shop Boys - Actually

Parlaphone: 1987

Is this the Pet Shop Boys album you're really supposed to have, even if you're not a Pet Shop Boys fan? It's certainly among their most popular, their highest charting effort of the '80s, only 1993's Very doing better. Huh, considering most things associated with the '80s was in decline by then, I wonder how Very did so well? Investigations for another time, but as I've known more songs off Actually (and Please) than Very, that does seem strange indeed. No, remixes on the crummy Disco 2 don't count as knowing songs off Very.

This one though, this album cemented Pet Shop Boys as bona-fide synth-pop stars, proving their first album was no fluke of catchy tunes and clever lyrics. It undoubtedly helped they had good ol' Thatcherism to play off of, subtly digging at the conservative consumerism that marked '80s Britain. To culturally thick individuals (y'know, Patrick Bateman sorts), a song like Shopping could easily come off as a joyful ode to decadent buying for things we don't really need. In the hands of Pet Shop Boys though, there's sly cynicism lurking behind those ear-wormy hooks and digital enhanced vocals. It wouldn't take much to strip the soul a little further for Shopping to sound like a track off Kraftwerk's Computer World.

Of course, the tune everyone remembers from Actually is It's A Sin, possibly one of the biggest club anthems Pet Shop Boys ever produced. Like, it already goes full-tilt with the bombastic string arrangements, soaring synths, and galloping hi-nrg rhythms, but those lyrics, mang! Even taking them at face value, it's a wonderful ode to self-doubt and reflection against the institutions of old, something anyone with a little rebelliousness in their nature can relate to. And while I'm sure Neil Tennant didn't write It's A Sin specifically with gay culture in mind, the fact the lyrics are rather autobiographical does give it an extra layer of meaning and understanding for those in that community. Just imagine the cathartic jubilation of dancing to this in a gay club back when. Heck, I'm sure it's still just as effective in this day and age.

There are plenty other good tunes on Actually, though only opener One More Chance hits that same high as It's A Sin (oh hi, Bobby O). What Have I Done To Deserve This? was a big deal due to giving Dusty Springfield some extra shine on her career, though I find that one treading a tad too close to Stock, Aitken & Waterman territory (those guys were everywhere at that point though). Hit Music joins Shopping in cutting on pop culture, Rent and I Want To Wake Up get into those doubting, conflicting urban lifestyles, while Heart and King's Cross tackle more traditional relationship matters. There's also a big, orchestral ballad in It Couldn't Happen Here, which sounds odd surrounded by all the synth-pop tunes. If you got Ennio Morricone on hand for a song, however, you don't waste that chance, nosiree!

ACE TRACKS: November 2018

As I accumulate more and more music, certain trends start appearing, like preferred genres or running themes among cover art (so many pictures of Saturn). One thing I hadn't counted, however, was having far more items of certain years compared to others. 1995 in particular has remained top dog for as long as I've noticed this trend, although the years 2015 and 2007 are often nipping at its heels. By comparison, 2005 has been abysmal for my CD collection, the only competitors being its neighbouring years of 2004 and 2006. That is, if you don't include anything prior to 1993, the year I started buying my own music, and when electronic music really started taking off in my far flung corner of the world. Maybe if I go on a binge of hair metal or protest folk, my stacks of older decades will start looking more buff, but that'd dilute the electronic purity I've cultivated all these years.

Anyhow, I've mentioned this curiosity many times before, and I just assumed it being a case of the mid-'90s being awesome for electronic music, the mid-'00s being shite for electronic music, and the mid-'10s being resurgently awesome for electronic music. In simpler language, there was more dope music in 1995 than any other time, or at least that which I've consistently gone back to. I've posited this theory on the TranceAddict forums, and it seems I'm not alone in noticing this, some there realizing their Discoggian 'Want List' is rather slight for 2005 and its compatriots. Hell, the only reason I figure 2007 is so beefy in my archives is due to the all the reviews I was writing for TranceCritic around that time.

Does anyone else notice this within their own music collections, certain years being heavy favorites over others? Like, I assume this is only something folks with 500+ items spanning a few decades would at all, but I am curious nonetheless. Food for thought while y'all check out the ACE TRACKS for this past November.


Full track list here.


MISSING ALBUMS:
Supercar - Futurama
Alien Project - Activation Portal

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 0%
Percentage Of Rock: 8%
Most “WTF?” Track: Guess the Ab Fab single, for its mere existence.

Wow, this one turned out remarkably well! It's almost a proper playlist, and not just some arbitrary arrangement of select tunes I was listening to these past thirty days. I didn't even notice how similar Rapoon's The Same River Once and Sven Vath's Ritual Of Life were until being alphabetically paired together like that. And there's quite a few sections like that here. While I mostly make these things for my own use, I wouldn't hesitate to recommend this one to anyone who's curious about a sampling of the sort of music I generally cover here. Yes, even the music I was requested to review!

Alien Project - Activation Portal (Original TC Review)

H2O Records: 2007

(2018 Update:
Probably more acerbic than necessary, but eh, that's just how you did things back in the '00s. If something was dodgy, crummy, sketchy, awful, and poo, you didn't hold back the hyperbole one iota, lest readers/viewers mistakenly think there was a glimmer of good in the product. These days, it's better doing harsh criticisms with thoughtful approaches, nuanced deconstructions, and long-form video essays talking into a microphone really fast. Still, there's something to be said for the cathartic release of what we have below.

I joked about 'banishing' Alien Project to the bowel's of TranceCritic's archives, but I wonder if he somehow did wind up there. This was Ari Linker last album under the moniker, shortly after rekindling his partnership with Ido Liran for their Save The Robot project. That lasted a little longer, shooting straight for commercial appeal, even to the point regular eurotrance jocks like Ferry Corsten and Richard Durand were rinsing their tunes. Don't know what he's been up to this past half-decade, but for all intents, it looks like Alien Project is totally dead. Surely my words didn't kill it...?)

IN BRIEF: Familiarity breeds contempt.

What the...? No... You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! Did he really think he could get away with it? This is so blatantly obvious, even a complete trance rookie would see through this hack. What a fucking gimp.

Eh? Oh, hi there, fellow readers. Whatever am I blathering on about? Allow me to introduce you to Exhibit A: N R G by Alien Project. You may know this track by its more familiar title of Café del Mar. Yes, that’s right folks: N R G is essentially Café del Mar (Alien Project Remix). But instead of giving proper credit to the source material, Alien Project changed a note or two and gave it his own ‘original’ title, thus negating the need to pay royalties. Vanilla Ice would be proud.

Apparently, this is only the tip of the dodgy iceberg when it comes to Ari Linker. Talk to anyone in the psy scene about him, and you’ll be met with a level of scorn usually reserved for the likes of DJ Sammy and Scooter in other circles. However, many dedicated goa-heads are rather anal when it comes to maintaining their scene’s underground cred, and anything with a whiff of commercial intent is often unjustly derided. Just because something has popular appeal doesn’t automatically make it bad, so I gave Activation Portal a spin to hear if the buckets of bile were with merit.

Indeed they are.

Ignoring for the moment his shameful pillage of recognizable trance tunes (and Café del Mar isn’t the only occurrence), this is a very bland collection of psy. Ari seems incapable of making his arrangements work. The rhythms are typical full-on drive but very little of his synths in support give them life. Most of his hooks are the same ol’ tired Israeli clichés. There’s nothing here that hasn’t been done before and better.

Most of his original tracks often start with a hint of promise. Super Buster has some nice leads; Activation Portal’s supporting trancey hooks are effective; Yellow Blaze teases with ace opening rhythms. Nothing of note ever comes of it though, as Ari continuously falls back on go-nowhere wibble supplemented with DOA tweaks. If psy is meant to trip you out, this is the equivalent of drinking cough syrup for a high.

There are some moments worth your attention but I’m hardly giving Ari credit for them. Tweaky, for instance, has a decent enough peak, but this is originally an Astrix track, so that was probably his work there. Groovy’s buttrock guitars are passable, but this was a collaboration with Raja Ram, so who knows how much his influence helped guide the track (and the ‘tee-hee, snicker’ use of the Cannibus Culture dialogue from Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas is juvenile idiocy). And Aztechno Dream is an agreeable if uneventful slice of simple trance, but this is a remix by Shanti, whom likely stripped out the original's bunk.

The shame of it all is just how good the production is. I’ve seldom heard all these stock psy synths sound better, and when the rhythms do drive, it’s with just as much punch as the stuff coming from Discover Records. It’s even enough to be forgiving of how achingly average most of the stuff on here is.

But no. We mustn’t forget our initial reasons for hatred. Ripping off Café del Mar is bad enough, yet Ari trumps that by doing the same thing with As The Rush Comes! Yes, that is the Motorcycle song you’re hearing in Deeper, and yes, that is Jes’ voice. The breakdown/build is practically a direct lift, with Ari throwing in useless effects to hide it. Does Ms. Brieden even realize she’s now singing for bland Israeli psy? I'm not so much irate over using the song itself (t’was quaint, but overplayed); it’s Ari’s utter insult to our intelligence that we wouldn’t notice it that gets my goat.

If you wanted to do a remix of the originals, fine. Contact the producers to request a remix project from them. If you wanted to cover it, fine. At least have the decency to call it by the same name since everyone will recognize them as such. Instead, both N R G and Deeper have all the hallmarks of a producer looking to capitalize on weak rehashes all the while hoping his audience is so clueless, they’ll think he made these melodies himself. Mr. Linker would have a promising future being the ghost producer of a This Is... Psy compilation from Beechwood Music.

These are disgraceful antics, my friends. I simply have no choice in this matter. I hereby banish thee, Alien Project, to the bowels of our review archives, to sit alongside the likes of Scooter and Cascada. May the scouse house brigade have mercy on your soul.

Oh, for additional unintentional hilarity, seek out the promo spiel for Activation Portal. Here’s a sample:

”Are you prepared to step up to the plate, into the Portal, and onto the next level of light on your path to enlightenment and joy??Are you willing to move towards a higher destination where peace and goodwill reside continuously, where love dwells eternally and where all things are, indeed, possible???

Well then, friends, compadres, amigos - step up, right this way........the Activation Portal is now open and all Galactic travelers and music lovers alike are invited to come forth and experience, even embrace, if you will, ever new and unfolding infinite dimensions of cosmic consciousness, hitherto unavailable to humanity at large, but now easily reachable by all, through the timeless, enduring and commanding medium of sound, which is, by the way, the Governor of all Existence!”

Can you believe there's three-hundred more words of the nonsense?

Sven Väth - Accident In Paradise

Eye Q Records: 1992

Only Sven Väth could make a 'solo' debut such as this and get away with it. Like could you imagine a man in the 2000s behind Very Serious minimal techno parties in Ibiza creating something as daft as a flute and harpsichord Coda? Not bloody likely – unless, of course, you are Sven Väth, a chap who probably hasn't a clue where his inspiration will take him. He just goes with it as he feels it. And my mind boggles of what it must have been like to hear Accident In Paradise when it was fresh and new, a collection of highfalutin artistry from the dude behind the legendary OMEN nightclub, and who's previous major musical output consisted of singing with the boys behind Snap!

In officially putting his name on an actual record though, I'm sure the young Väth had a ton of ideas floating about his head, many of which inspired by the raving lunatics he saw emerging in Frankfurt's nascent clubbing scene. The freaks were coming out in full force, uninhibited by the looming threat of crushing communism while getting knackered on really good drugs. It must have looked like a carnival of world-wide cultures, all meeting at a European crossroads, where tribal spiritualists could intermingle within aristocratic chambers. So many ideas, so many influences, how can one interpret them within the confines of dance album? Probably you don't, but that didn't stop Sven from at least trying.

Fortunately, Mr. Väth had a secret weapon at his disposal, helping him curate his ideas into something presentable. Okay, Ralf Hildenbeutel wasn't that much of a secret, the man already instrumental in producing many of Eye Q Records' early singles. He and Väth even released a collaborative album earlier that year as Barbarella, a more straight-forward techno LP. Having gotten what was 'expected' of them out, they were free to indulge in whatever fit their fancy in a proper artist record. Just make sure that lead single's a stompin' acid techno cut though – don't want to scare the punters off before they buy the album.

Accident In Paradise is, if nothing else, an ambitious LP that almost comes together as Sven and Ralf envisioned. Heavily front-loaded, the opening salvo of tribal-trancer Ritual Of Life, sweeping ambience of Caravan Of Emotions, and blissy Balearic vibes of L'Esperanza eats thirty-five minutes of the album, more than half its runtime. It can't help but go down from there, and they don't even try reaching that lofty peak again, the back half of Accident In Paradise mostly taken up by interstitial musical doodles of Renaissance dalliances. Even Mellow Illusion, a groovy, nine-minute old-school trancer, comes off humble and ordinary in this album's context. Re-issues added the radio version of L'Esperanza, giving you reason to keep the album playing through, if you're willing to sit through Sven and Ralf's psychedelic carnival ride getting there. I give them props for including such daft tunes like Merry-Go-Round Somewhere, but like most, I usually tap out after Mellow Illusion.

The Future Sound Of London - Accelerator

Jumpin' & Pumpin'/Hypnotic: 1991/2002

The only Future Sound Of London album you need, if you listen to certain sorts of people. Let's call them 'stuck in The Haçienda' kind of people, UK ravers who never grew beyond that era's acid house scene, will only accept electronic music as it sounded then, and not a month later. Never mind that Brian Dougans and Garry Cobain ventured forth into new, fascinating realms of pure headtrip, mind-fuck album works – it's just not danceable, mate. I sense, though, such folks are forlorn at the coulda'-been, the shoulda'-been of FSOL's potential as studio hounds producing clubbing fodder. They made so many classic, genre-defining tunes at the time, the possibilities of what they might have done after had they scaled back the arty, pretentious aspirations boggles the mind. But nay, the lads from Manchester had grander visions in mind.

And I get it – oh man, do I ever get it. For as much as I've continued enjoying FSOL's work, there's an undeniable addictive simplicity about the tunes on Accelerator that remain effective to this day. Papua New Guinea, obviously, but I've no doubt tracks like the future-shock breaks of Expander, acid-bleep dopeness of Calcium, and blissed-out trancey acid house of Pulse State would be just as effective in any contemporary setting. Hell, I heard 1 In 8 at a music festival this past summer. 1 In 8, one of the 'filler' tracks on this album! Who plays 1 In 8 in this age? A DJ at Basscoast, apparently.

Still, one cannot deny there's some rather dated material on Accelerator too. Despite the smashing opening of Expander (oh, you just know Sasha cribbed that title), Stolen Documents is little more than a peppy transitional track of bleepy sounds and chirpy acid funk. While Others Cry has a little more personality going for it with its Balearic-Jamaican vibe (yes, really), nice for a sway in a hammock or beach lounge. On the other hand though, It's Not My Problem and Moscow have the unenviable task of bookmarking the album centrepiece of Papua New Guinea, and in being such abrasive, boshing tunes, neither are capable of it – you're just waiting for Papua while Problem is playing, and Moscow always feels like a comedown from New Guinea. As for hints at where FSOL would take their music, Central Industrial slows things down and plays up the future-shock scenery full-tilt. Psygnosis Studios were definitely paying attention.

When Accelerator was rolled out for a tenth anniversary re-issue, it included a bonus disc of Papua New Guinea remixes. Most of them take the tune's basic structure and re-purposes them into a particular genre (Satoshi Tomiie does the prog thing, Hybrid do the prog-breaks thing, Oil do the funk-dub thing). The most interesting of the lot are the Simian Mix, where the rock band turns Papua into a bizarre, stoned, jazz-stomp indie hoe-down (I'm sure Gary loved it), and Andrew Weatherall's eleven-minute rub – progressive house of epic proportions, that one!