Various - Alien Ambient Galaxy

Hypnotic: 1996

When did I first discover Bill Laswell? This CD right here, which is funny, because it's not indicative of his larger, massive, ginormous body of work. I mean, only one track of the featured eight even has much of his distinct bass playing – it's a super long track, but still, just one. I probably heard him prior, but had no clue he existed, if that makes sense. You can hear some musicians – especially sessions musicians – in a multitude of songs without ever knowing who they are. Sure, one could study liner notes of every booklet and Discogs entry to know every performer ever, but man, who'd want to?

Had little choice with Alien Ambient Galaxy though, the only credits offering nothing but liner notes. Hell, the back cover just lists all the players involved, with no attribution to the list of tracks. For all you'd know, everyone performed together as one big conglomerate. Bill Laswell, Jah Wobble, Jeff Bova, Alex Hass, Pete Namlook, Liu Sola, Buckethead (yes, that Buckethead), Robert Musso, Mick Harris, and Nicky Skopelitis are... Alien Ambient Galaxy!

But no, that's not the case. In fact, only three projects actually make up this compilation, all of which Laswell had some hand in, care of his short-lived Subharmonic print. Most prominently featured is Divination, a world music, ambient drone project that could be considered a proper conglomerate of musicians. There's four tracks of the group here, but they're mostly subtle, droning pieces, serving more as transitional tracks between the other ones. I'll talk about them more at a later date, but again, I must give a flustered name-drop in seeing Buckethead's there.

A few other tracks are from Cypher 7, a duo consisting of Hass and Bova, with Laswell performing “navigation & ground control”. These are more interesting, giving Alien Ambient Galaxy some needed diversity and flair. Conspiracy Of Silence opens the CD with mysterious, ominous tones, feeding into alien paranoia that was so popular in the '90s, while The Suspicious Shamen does an upbeat ambient dub thing with piano flourishes. Nothing Lasts, meanwhile, features a bouncy beat while French actress Jeanne Moreau drunkenly laments about lost passion. Not sure how it ties into an alien ambient concept, but it's a cool sounding tune nonetheless.

And finally, clocking in at over thirty-eight minutes, is one of Bill and Pete's Psychonavigation outings – the lengthy track with the lengthy title of Psychic And UFO Revelations In The Last Days. It features Laswell's bass, Namlook's space pads, a simple dubby rhythm, a lot of dithering passages of music interspersed with sci-fi effects, and strangely hypnotic throughout its runtime. Plus, it contains dialog from the DS9 episode Emissary, so instant awesome right there.

Strange presentation aside, Alien Ambient Galaxy is a nifty little collection of tunes if you like your ambient on the mysterious side of things. Even with the amount of Laswellian music I've since heard, this still remains a remarkably unique offering of what he's made within his vast discography.

Alice In Chains - Alice In Chains

Columbia: 1995

Of the Big Four Of Grunge, I know the least about Alice In Chains. I'm sure I heard them in music video rotation and soundtracks, as you couldn't escape the grunge movement growing up a teenager of the Gen-X variety. Compared to the ubiquitous presence of Nirvana, Pearl Jam, and Soundgarden, however, Alice In Chains somehow slipped me by. I always saw Nevermind, Ten and Superunknown on store shelves and within peers' CD collections, but I can't recall spotting Dirt among them. Maybe I didn't know what to look for, what tunes I should have noticed on their mixtapes, but fact remains for much of grunge's peak, I only knew Alice In Chains in name only, as yet another band that the rock world seemed to really like. Them and Blind Melon.

Hell, even when this particular album dropped, with cover art you couldn't turn away from if you tried, it still took me a while to clue in it was an Alice In Chains record. Like, weren't they pioneers of the Grunge Tree or something? Then again, Live kinda' made the Grunge Tree a joke, so I can understand why they'd not want anything to do with it. Instead, let's get a photo of a poor three-legged canine, and on the flip, feature a three-legged human! Nice way of showing how having too little and too much of something (in this case, legs) can be an impediment to one's existence.

Right, time to get into music discussion, and I'm afraid this is about where I'll lose all those AiC fans. As said, my knowledge of the band is extremely slight, even with their biggest hits. This self-titled third album did hit the top spot on on the Billboard 200, but I don't recall hearing much of anything from it when it was new, much less compared to their earlier work. I can only offer my thoughts on how it sounds to these virgin ears in the here and now.

And boy, is this ever one sludgy, grungy sounding album. I know the genre had moved on from its original form by '95, but AiC do a good job keeping the bleak tone intact, despite an ever increasingly optimistic decade (drug problems help). There really isn't much in the way of hooks or melodies, everything a dank, dour, atonal thrum of guitar distortion and Layne Staley's depressive vocals. Anything that does leap out is usually on the bass end, like the heavy rhythm stomp of Sludge Factory and God Am. Some kick the tempo up (So Close, Head Creeps) but for the most part, we're trawling through the Seattle murk.

I actually find the atonal nature of this album addictive, like a comforting glumness I want to explore further. Sit back with headphones, the layers of distortion overwhelming, and peel them back, finding the golden goo underneath. Alice In Chains may not catch my attention so readily as other rock, but it does keep luring me back for another spin.

Nova - Albedo

Ultimae Records: 2005

If I'm gonna' break my oath and buy old-school Ultimae releases in a digital format, I might as well do it for all of them, right? I can still hold out hope for hard-copy re-issues of items like Distances, Earthshine, and Memory Shell, but really, I'm only denying myself by not going the digital route with the rest. Besides, it's not like there's many Ultimae CDs I haven't gathered. My collection of their releases is remarkably thorough, especially considering it was 2009 that I started buying in earnest (what humble-brag?).

Albedo came out quite early in Ultimae's lifespan, around that transitional point after the label had properly established itself with a few core acts and a solid, continuous compilation series. Time to take that next step, then, and expand the roster, release extra content on other formats (not vinyl tho', no one buys that stuff), and launch additional compilations, broadening your exposure beyond the lucky few within the psy-chill community who'd already stumbled upon your work. Albedo was the first volley into this wider world of scene dominance, with nothing less than a bold step into the domain of conceptual compilations.

Okay, I'm over-selling a little, but for as much choice music the Fahrenheit Project provided, they generally remained regular ol' compilations showcasing Ultimae's manifesto. As one of the label's primary DJs, Massimo Terranova undoubtedly had his own ideas on how to curate the various gathered muses, and he was given the opportunity with Albedo, technically Ultimae's first DJ mix CD, though still in the 'partially mixed' form their other discs do.

Still, 'Nova' got to indulge in more of a focused musical narrative, and have himself a clutch of all new, exclusive music from most of Ultimae's main players: Dana, Hol, CBL, and, of course, Mr. Fields, dropping yet another utterly sublime piece of music in Fiat Lux, making me cry to the heavens that this guy can do a 'toss-off' track with such ease. Some scene vets like Ishq and Vir Unis also contribute, while a couple cats get their start here as well (Between Interval, Antonio Testa).

So the music is all panoramic and lush, as you know it would be from a mid-'00s Ultimae release. As a set though, Nova does a good job in showing off tonal contrasts, with the early sections featuring something of an urban, technological bent (so much radio static in Between Interval's Wishful Thinking), gradually going full-on nature by set's end. While there are clear sections within Albedo (hoo, does Fiat Lux ever mark the end of one), everything flows smoothly throughout, like chapters of the story Nova wishes to tell. Still, as these are essentially tunes made for Nova's mix and not their own albums, it's not the crème de la crème of their respective discographies. Yes, even the ridiculously wonderful Fiat Lux. Thus, if I'm to be honest, I can't say Albedo reaches those upper echelons of Ultimae's catalogue, but it sure does push up against that impossibly-high ceiling.

Bubble - Airless

Mushy Records: 2005

I've never mentioned this, but my 2005 re-entry into the world of psy-trance was via a promo package sent to me from the now defunct Boa Distribution. Included in that package was Electro Sun's Pure Blue, the compilation Buckle Up, Vol. 2: Trancelucent Garage (aka: that one with the tacky cartoon of naked chicks), and the downtempo collection of Unwind: A Journey Into Global Grooves. Unbeknownst to everyone though, there was a fourth CD in that bundle, one I found so shockingly bad, I couldn't in good conscience write a review of it too. Okay, it wasn't so much I'd feel guilty on ripping a new artist, but rather I didn't want to so viciously bite the hand that fed me. TranceCritic had already dealt with managers not pleased with us being just another outlet of enthusiasm press, when Paul van Dyk's team pulled back an interview request following Jack Moss' less-than adulatory write-up of Politics Of Dancing 2. However, I never got further packages from Boa, so my discretion was moot.

Plus, I doubt anything I'd have written back when would have made much difference. The duo behind Bubble – Guy Sarnat and Karen Bagdasarov – have maintained a steady career to this day, no small feat in the overcrowded realm of Israeli full-on. True, their last album outing was in 2011, but they've continued a trickle of singles, a smattering of Soundclouds, and a permanent presence on the festival circuit, with a dedicated following eating up their brand of light-weight psy. They've got it made, and all the more power to them for their success. Their debut album's still balls, though.

I get what they're shooting for, Infected Mushroom's influence evident throughout Airless. With song-writing so disjointed and production so cheap, however, it's rare anything clicks in this album. Opening track I'm Looking nicely exemplifies what I'm getting on about. Gentle guitar strumming gets us started, then that plastic, lifeless rhythm the worst of Israeli full-on uses appears, burying everything in the mix. The guitar's still going, but details are lost, nor does it sync with the supporting superfluous effects.

And it just gets sadder from there, I'm Looking diving into 'buttrock' territory with hilariously limp shredding that has no idea what the rhythm's doing, and a pathetic piano patch even Casio keyboardists would shun. This is also that kind of segmented full-on gibberish, where nothing musically ties together, everything arranged in the most generic of random wibble I've ever heard out of the genre. That's just one track out of eight, and things get worse the deeper into Airless we go. Dear God, won't someone save that poor piano patch?

Bubble clearly had ambitious ideas, and sometimes they come through (Class-X has a nifty squealing acid line, Bubble In Panic's rhythms don't suck so hard). Sadly, they lacked the songcraft experience and production capability to see them to fruition here. It's like a teenage garage band shooting for Led Zeppelin epics in their earliest sessions. Not recommended.

Sasha - Airdrawndagger

BMG UK & Ireland: 2002

I sure remember the hot anticipation for Sasha's debut album. Like, there was long, gestating buzz over whether he'd ever do the deed, as the discourse is wont to go when it comes to popular DJs. Curating all those class trance records, groovy progressive house tracks, and spiritual superclub vibes, surely had to impress some inspiration upon Mr. Coe such that his muse demanded his own tunes too. And as his career continuously went from strength to strength (Renaissance, Northern Exposure, Xpander EP!), the time seemed right to drop an LP of original music in ye' olde year of 2002. (whoa, deja-vu)

Everyone's familiar with Airdrawndagger's story: big hype, lukewarm response, now regarded a relic of prog's heyday. For sure folks enjoyed what they heard on this album, but it wasn't the knock-down smash they hoped for. As though they needed this record to definitively and emphatically resuscitate and cement progressive house/trance/breaks' legacy as the One Genre To Rule Them All.

Instead, Sasha – yes, Charlie May and Junkie XL lended a heaping helping hand – set out for something more conceptual, music just as enjoyable being played at home as hearing rinsed out in the clubs. And hoo, he done did that, the tunes on Airdrawndagger utterly lush within my headphone space. Sixteen years on, the production's as cutting edge as the day it dropped, even if the song-writing mostly remains stuck in the past. Which is fine. Despite some wailing that there was nothing as instantly classic as Xpander on here, Sasha maintained Airdrawndagger was an assemblage of his various influences throughout his years of DJing. Or just coming due on all those half-formed ideas floating about from his 'studio time' following missed gigs.

So you get the chill tunes setting the mood early, but holding nothing back on opulent synth melodies either (Mr. Tiddles, Magnetic North), all the while keeping the rhythms at a steady groove. Then things get more technical than musical for a while, which is dope if you dig sound design in your beatcraft, but may be lacking if you need your melodies up front and obvious. James Holden to the rescue then, as Bloodlock might as well be a solo-Holden track, the sort of twinkle-prog he practically pioneered. It's almost shocking to hear this tune now, considering both Sasha and Holden would disown it so soon after. That Coldharbour crew though, they had no problem claiming it.

The album kinda' eases things down from there, Requiem a spritely ambient outing, Golden Arm a steadying prog groover, and Wavy Gravy a chipper prog-breaks closer. Not the rousing finale you'd expect from Sasha and co., but again, Airdrawndagger never was gonna' be a dozen tracks of clubbing fodder. Next-gen production aside, this is mostly a record with no aspirations of commercial appeal, but rather music making that sates one's own soul. And hey, if anyone else gets something out of it, all the better. Such modesty strangely makes it better the older it gets.

Mark Farina - Air Farina

OM Records: 2003

I honestly can't remember whether Mark Farina's debut album was hotly anticipated or not. Like, I'm sure there was long, gestating buzz over whether he'd ever do the deed, as the discourse is wont to go when it comes to popular DJs. Curating all those class deep house records, groovy downtempo tracks, and funky Chicago-San Fran' vibes, surely had to impress some inspiration upon Mr. Farina such that his muse demanded his own tunes too. And as his career continuously went from strength to strength (Mushroom Jazz, OM Records, Frisco Disco!), the time seemed about right to drop an LP of original music in ye' olde year of 2003.

Yet, I was taken completely by surprise when I saw it sitting in the store that day, having heard not a word about it prior. Part of that was the unfortunate death of rags I was following at the time, but even among music boards I lingered on, I didn't see much hype on Air Farina, nor much talk of it since, and I live around his hottest touring regions. It all seems very odd to yours truly, especially since I quite enjoy the album ...after a time.

Right, my initial reaction to hearing Air Farina's production was utter befuddlement. Farina's trademark DJing sound is of irresistible deep funky house, with sounds and production that warms the soul. This stuff though, it sounds like it was made on a plastic Apple music box, everything ultra-compressed and nary a spot of grit and grime within. I get no sense of Chicago warehouses or California beaches – it's as though Farina took his 'music from airports' concept all the way to the aesthetic level, existing in an artificial reality where nothing seems quite real or lived-in. For sure, once the album gets moving, and the songcraft has its chance to strut its stuff, the production becomes less of an issue. And hey, I cannot deny I've never heard any other album sounding like this, much less within the realms of house music, so Air Farina at least stands out on that merit alone. Whether you dig it or not probably boils down to how much you like Mark's tunes, and as I still don't hear much talk about this album fifteen years on, well...

Interspersed with dialog from pilot training videos (plus a humorous clip from The Phantom), Air Farina plays out in enjoyable chunks, a downtempo jam or two followed up by a run of bumpin' house tunes with ear-wormy vocals samples. There's no denying Marks' skill in making his own house, tunes like Dropped Into Water, Gramma So, and Leaving SF just as infectiously groovy as anything he's rinsed out. Meanwhile, floating chill moments like Dream Machine and dips into hip-hop with People Under The Stairs (Travel) show off his diversity just fine. Just, man... that ultra-plastic production though. I can understand why some are ambivalent towards Air Farina, when all they desire is another Mushroom Jazz session.

Scooter - Age Of Love (Original TC Review)

Club Tools: 1997

(2018 Update:
My head tells me I should hate this. My gut tells me it. Heck, even my heart tells me it. Yet, there's something that always keeps me from hating this album like I'm told I'm supposed to. Some overpowering feels from the spleen? Like, I don't go out of my way to play this often, maybe once every few years, save a chance random encounter on my media player's shuffle option, but when it does play, I still get into it just the same. I think this album releases the same stoopid-fun endorphins tracks like Sash!'s Ecuador does, and there's nothing wrong with that. We all have our silly little pleasures within our musical tastes, and if you don't, then I imagine you're just a dreadful bore to be around.

As for how Scooter's career went after I wrote this review, the group jumped on the dubstep bandwagon. Of course they would.)


IN BRIEF: Scooter’s turning point.

As vehemently as they’ll deny it, it’s safe to say a lot of EDM’s followers went through a Scooter phase. For some it may have been a brief flirtation during their initial rave years, others a lingering dedication. However long it was though, the reasons for it tend to be the same: the group made some undeniably fun anthems.

Ah, you’ve noticed the use of past tense. I suppose I should explain. Y’see, friends, Scooter’s discography can easily be split into two eras, each with a number of name variations. For example: Bueller years/post-Bueller years; pre-excessive covers/post-excessive covers; pre-shit/shit. Whatever you call it, Scooter’s initial mid-90s output was a guilty pleasure for many. That all changed when Ferris Bueller (aka: Sören Bühler, H.P.'s cousin) left and the group and began relying more on covers rather than original productions for their hit singles. Accusations of ‘sell-out’ and ‘going to Hell in a cheese basket’ dominated many discussions, and Scooter became the target of every biting punch-line regarding the worst aspects of commercialized dance. They may not have much artistic credibility left, but who cares about that when you can fight with Cascada for top spot on the dance charts, eh?

Anyhow, a change of direction often has a catalyst, and their album Age Of Love certainly was that. Beyond the fact this was the last Bueller album, there’s a sense Scooter were aiming for larger audiences than their initial happy hardcore fanbase, and why not? This was 1997 here, folks, when everyone figured they just might have a chance at hitting the big time. So how does one go about doing so?

First, out goes the hardcore and in comes more of the trance; nearly half the album is dedicated to the popular club style of the era that wasn't too different from most euro-dance (re: pre-epic). Next, branch out into other genres that are garnering attention from the masses: big beat, jungle, rock hybrids -‘electronica’, in other words. And finally, have one of your singles feature on a major motion picture to grab that always lucrative non-electronic consumer. Perfect formula for success, right? Um...

Alright, the big single here, Fire, certainly did succeed in its aim. Aside from the fact it is a decent bit of hard dance fun, by featuring on sequel soundtracks to Mortal Kombat and Hackers, Scooter got to rub elbows with respected names like Leftfield, The Prodigy, and Juno Reactor. Along the way, the thrashin’ guitar riffs grabbed the approving attention of many metal-heads. I’d commonly hear “fuck, that fucking techno shit is fucking shit, but Fire’s alright” from long-haired associates.

Then there’s The Age Of Love. I’ve heard it called corny, cheesy, and a complete rip-off of the Terminator theme; in trying to combine the sounds of trance with the effusive sentimentality of happy hardcore, Scooter created a disgrace of a tune. Oh shut up. Yes, it is all those things. That’s exactly the point! It’s what Scooter did so well in those days: pure, guilt-free anthemic fun. This is ‘stadium techno’ as The KLF spearheaded, and The Age Of Love is just as effective as anything they did.

The rest of the album mostly amounts to agreeable filler. There really isn’t anything that is whole-sale awful, but nor does it leap out at you as essential either. Hit The Drum stands out a bit more by getting back to a ‘stadium techno’ sound, and includes one of H.P.’s more ridiculous lines: “‘Cause we are ready to shake the nation with another creation!” Also, Tonight’s take on ol’ school jungle and Return Of The Future’s standard trance execution are intriguingly entertaining, mostly for the fact they veer so far off the expected Scooter path; if you didn’t know better, you’d swear they were by another act. However, these examples didn’t win over their detractors then, and they certainly won’t today either.

Still, Age Of Love is probably one of the better albums in Scooter’s discography. Even when the songs are little more than simple dance pop, they present them with such infectious zesty energy it is hard to resist, provided you leave the Bitter Beer in the cooler before listening. If you are quite new to this whole electronic music thing, you could do worse (like Scooter’s recent offerings). And even if you aren’t, Age Of Love still has a bit of charm for those moments when you just need a reason to get up and shout. Nothing wrong with that, now is there?

ACE TRA-

Oh, wait. There’s one more track here. A cover of a Depeche Mode song. Hold on... *plays the ballad Leave In Silence*

I take it all back. Scooter are shit.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2007. © All rights reserved

Enigma - Age Of Loneliness

Virgin: 1994

This was kinda'-sorta' Enigma's lead single going into their second LP, The Cross Of Changes, though existing as Carly's Song at that point. And as it was produced between albums, it sounds more like a left-over from MCMXC a.D., utilizing all the musical tricks Michael Cretu turned into a global smash on such tracks like Sadeness and Mea Culpa: ethnic vocal sample, woodwinds, Sandra's whispery voice, heavy sexy rhythms. Not quite at his Return To Innocence stage, then, but what can you expect for something made specifically for the Sharon Stone erotic thriller Sliver?

In fact, Mr. Cretu was approached to score the whole movie. Makes sense, as his music – or more specifically, knock-offs of Sadeness - had been popping up in many Skinemax films throughout the early '90s. As Sliver was the hotly anticipated follow-up to Sharon Stone's star-making turn in Basic Instinct, an appropriately sexy-sounding soundtrack was required, so why not get the real deal? However, Cretu was already moving on from that sound, getting more in touch with the New Age side of his muse – less sensuality, more spirituality. He still offered up a song, Carly's Song (Carly was the name of Stone's character), and even had an artsy erotic music video made for it with Stone lip-syncing the lyrics. The movie critically bombed though, leaving that single a quirky footnote in the Enigma canon.

Fast forward a year, The Cross Of Changes comes out, and rather than letting Carly's Song sit fallow, Cretu gave it some light retouches, turning it into Age Of Loneliness for the album. There must have been enough buzz surrounding the track as heard there, for it was re-released as the third single from the album, and given a whole new video in support. This time, something MTV friendly, wide shots of a sepia Manhattan with superimposed people floating in water, as though hovering about a myriad of urban locales. I've had dreams like that.

As for the single itself, there's only two items of note, including Cretu's own clubby remix of the track. Though he has dabbled in uptempo tunes, we generally don't think of Enigma as a dancefloor friendly act, but the Enigmatic Club Mix offers a convincing argument in that favour. While not doing anything progressive house acts of the day hadn't already covered, it suitably grooves along while letting all the familiar elements play about as necessary. Plus, those beeps heard throughout are Morse Code for “I love you”, which is such a clever musical Easter Egg, I'm stunned we don't hear that gimmick more often.

But the reason folks from 'the underground' were interested in this single was the Jam & Spoon Remix. Aww, yeah, the original trance tastemakers, having a go at one of the most Enigma-tic tracks in Enigma's early career! This is gonna' be... uh, super chill, apparently. It's basically the same song, just stripped down, with a weird, soft, drippy rhythm. Gotta' give credit for subverting expectations, I guess.

Aquasky - Aftershock

Moving Shadow: 2000

Aquasky was among Moving Shadow's new breed of drum 'n' bass tastemakers taking the scene into bold new territories as the Millennium turned. I know this, because a lot of the PR blurbs surrounding Aquasky said so. More than that, they had no problem flitting beyond the strict borders junglists demanded of their artists. Breaks? Sure, they can do that too, and maybe even give a few bassline pointers to those emerging nu-skool doods. Trip hop? Ain't no th'ang, every ace producer having a chill side too. Nu-jazz? Oh, hey, let's not get carried away. Just because Kruder & Dorfmeister tapped a track for their DJ-Kicks doesn't mean you should go that far beyond your boundaries. Maybe try something safer, like jazzstep. (note: the tune on DJ-Kicks is jazzstep, but why ruin a joke with facts?)

A trio of cats (Brent Newitt, Kieron Bailey, Dave Wallace), Aquasky initially debuted with a handful of singles on Moving Shadow, as many d'n'b acts were wont to do. They must have generated quite the buzz, as Polydor swooped in and offered them a deal, the mini-album Orange Dust emerging. I assume that didn't turn out as the players involved hoped, for Aquasky was right back in the Moving Shadow fold shortly after, releasing a proper LP in the form of Bodyshock. That one did better, so good that a remix album was commissioned the following year. That's no small feat, remix albums few and far between within the d'n'b scene to that point. Goldie's Timeless never got one. Roni Size's New Forms never got one. Perhaps a couple stray examples exist throughout the '90s, but fact remains Aftershock is a rare beast for its time. Or a hastily cobbled cash-grab quick to capitalize on all the hype Bodyshock had generated – would explain the totally borked track list on the CD.

No, seriously, how does one completely screw up a track list like this? Nothing is sequenced as laid out on the back of the booklet, and given that the compilation itself actually flows remarkably well for a remix album, I'm assuming what I hear is the intended order. Corduroy's rub on Battlestar is a fine funky, bass-heavy opener, while Sketch's go with Sonix feeds your reptile brain with some savage bass throbs and shuffly 2-step rhythms. At track five, we take a break from the breaks 'n' bass business for Mr. Scruff lending his funky jazz touch to Man Made Symphony, but for the longest time, I was told this was Stalker (Timecode Remix). Given the players involved, that don't make a lick of sense.

I suspected something was up when the obviously London Elektricity rub of Rebirth was titled Zero Tollerance (Aquasky Remix), and the track titled Rebirth (London Elektrcity Remix) sounded nothing like a London Elektricity remix. It wasn't until The Lord That Knows All graced my existence that I was enlightened upon Moving Shadows' erroneous handling of Aftershock. I wonder if that's why Aquasky left the label again, after this?

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.