ACE TRACKS: May 2019

This post is coming to you from the tiny mountainous town of Jasper, Alberta, nestled within the northern arm of the mighty Canadian Rockies. And is this tiny mountainous town ever a tourist trap, believe you me, but with splendorous scenery such as this, how could it not? Like, sure, no one gave Jasper much care half a century ago, when it was little more than a way point for train routes through the mountains, but when The Greatest Generation and their offspring were scoping Canada out for vacation and retirement options, they realized this untamed region was quite nice for hiking, skiing, camping, and seeing various wildlife in their natural habitats. Thus, tourist trap of a town was born.

Now, I've actually passed through Jasper a number of times when I was a wee lad, when my family would drive from one corner of Canadian hinterlands to visit other family in another corner of Canadian hinterlands (the flatter kind), but I barely have any recollection of it, almost always passed out from the super-long road trip by the time we came to Jasper (my folks were hardcore about making it across three provinces in a single 24-hour shot). Figured if I'm going to do a road trip for a vacation of my own, why not visit some places of my youth? I'm not sure why we feel so compelled to do that as we age. It's very strange. Maybe I should have brought some Raffi with me to listen to if I truly wanted to recapture that experience. Ain't none of that on this month's ACE TRACKS playlist though.


Full track list here.


MISSING ALBUMS:
Brasil & The Gallowbrothers Band - In The Rain, In The Noise
Waki - Hurry Up And Relax
Wanderwelle - Gathering Of The Ancient Spirits

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 3%
Percentage Of Rock: 0 %
Most “WTF?” Track: Oh, obviously the one with DJ Shadow's name attached.

Why yes, I did listen to this while on the road! Well, for the portions of British Columbian highway that I could still get Spotify signal. Was surprised it held out as far into some regions as it did. Can't say this was a terrible good playlist for a road trip though, genres wildly jumping all over the place as they did. Good thing I brought a CD wallet with me too! Ah, the ol' standbys...

Sixtoo - Jackals And Vipers In Envy Of Man

Ninja Tune: 2007

It must be difficult holding out on chasing trends. The music rags rave on about what's 'cutting edge' and 'fresh hotness', your peers can't help but dabble in new tricks and toys, and all the while a burgeoning audience emerges from corners long thought untappable. Sure, you have your loyal, dependable, old-school followers, but surely the temptation lurks to explore a little, just a little. A peak around the corner, a glance over the hill, a click of a link from a somewhat trusted source. It didn't look like Robert Squire was in any rush to do so though. Even as his brand of scratch-heavy trip-hop continuously lost ground to the incoming wave of grime and dubstep, his Sixtoo project kept the faith for much of the '00s. Yeah, he found a couple toys to tinker with (sample pad!), but it never compromised his style.

After eking out a career in Eastern Canada, Sixtoo got picked up by Ninja Tune, and it looked like things were flying breezy for Mr. Squire. After the release of this particular album though, his studio suffered a break-in, with everything involving his Sixtoo project pilfered. Not just the material for a new album, but all his years of back-ups, archives, samples, and the works. Everything! Sensing it a sign to move on in his music career, Rob shuttered the Sixtoo alias, switched cities to the West coast of Canada, and started making deep acid house as Prison Garde. Because they all turn to house eventually (sometimes techno too).

Before that though, he released Jackals And Vipers In Envy Of Man, which looks to be the final Sixtoo record. Unless he starts feeling nostalgic for his hip-hop roots, which could happen, maybe, possibly. Hard to start from scratch like he'd have to though. Makes better sense starting a whole different project, maybe with some 'support from Sixtoo', if you catch my drift. Why am I rambling like this? Damn Raptors victories, distracting my thoughts so easily.

Like many of his previous works (Boxcutter Emporium, Duration Project), Jackals And Vipers is essentially an extended music session exploring similar sounds and samples, giving each 'part' a live turntable vibe. Except this isn't all live turntables, but mixing and matching drum breaks and samples with some effects fun thrown in. Take those sessions, refine them in post-production, and voila, thirteen tracks of various non-rapping hip-hop business. Some parts last less than a minute, but most reaching the three-to-five minute range.

And there's not much else to say about Jackals And Vipers, if I'm honest. As mentioned, Sixtoo brings an unfussy, uncomplicated style to the music, riding rhythms as he feels them out, never gunking things up with superfluous effects and nonsense glitchiness. I wouldn't have minded some rappity-raps over a few of these, but they're fine without vocals too. It's a vintage Ninja Tune sound, which again was kinda' surprising to hear in the year 2007, what with The Bug's London Zoo just around the corner.

DJ Shadow - The Outsider

Universal Records: 2006

(a Patreon Request)

Above all else, you could not mistake DJ Shadow's third album as being released at any point other than 2006. There's a line about Dick Cheney shooting a guy! That's, like, soooo 2006, man! I guess all the hyphy tracks kinda' date this album too. Yeah, the Bay Area sound massively caught on the following decade, which some may argue is in favour of The Outsider for being that ahead of the game, but let's be real here. No one was turning to DJ Shadow for hot new sounds of San-Fran hip-hop in the year 2006, nor any time before or after. They were turning to DJ Shadow for his unique, seminal take on sampling, turntablism, and trip-hop, somehow expecting he'd ride that Endtroducing..... style forever after. Mr. Davis knew what was what though, hangin' out with dudes like Turf Talk and E-40, and was more than willing to gamble on their sounds, needing something new and fresh lest he grow stale as an artist.

It could have worked. As mentioned, hyphy was blossoming in the world of hip-hop, riding the same wave of frenetic, synth-heavy, party rockin' rap that had turned crunk and grime into huge movements in their regions. It would have been a shock to the DJ Shadow faithful, no doubt, but at least they would understand the abrupt change of sound, and maybe even vibe on it based on the genre's own merits. Unfortunately, DJ Shadow didn't commit to it, instead book-ending The Outsider with a half-dozen hyphy tracks, creating a drastic tonal clash with all the far more musical efforts within the record's creamy centre.

Even without the hyphy, The Outsider could generously be considered overly eclectic. Let's assume you skipped all the way past the David Banner featuring Seein Thangs (whoa, David Banner feature; it's 2006 alright), instead kicking things off with Broken Levee Blues. Cool, some guitar jamming and little spoken-word dialog. Nice an' chill, yo', still capturing that vintage DJ Shadow smooth downtempo- HOLY SHIT! How did we smash right into thrashy speed-punk from that? I'm spazzin' out here! Gotta' love it, and it looks like we're getting into some freaky psychedelic jazz-funk action in Backstage Girl after. So it's gonna' be this kinda' album then.

Nope! A little score work in Triplicate / Something Happened That Day, and suddenly we're into the domain of indie rock, complete with a Brit warbler who's not Chris Martin, but sure sounds like him. And let's not forget the psychedelic folk from Christina Carter in What Have I Done, because Joanna Newsom was a thing in 2006, I guess? Is this even a DJ Shadow album anymore? What is this album? Oh yeah, that one with the hyphy in it. I'd forgotten it started that way, but here's a couple such closers as reminders.

No wonder Mr. Davis called this album The Outsider. It sounds like an artist trying to fit in various musical scenes with nothing in common other than having an interloper playing in their respective sandboxes.

Luke Slater - Freek Funk

NovaMute: 1997

(a Patreon Request from Omskbird)

I feel compelled to go into a lengthy diatribe over how difficult it was to get this album. I mean, why this one? It's chump-cheap on the Discogs market, and Amazon isn't far behind. Somehow though, Luke Slater's Freek Funk was vexed, a Patreon Request from as far back as February, only now getting done due to shipping shenanigans. I wax enough over my music buying/hunting/savaging practices though, and who needs to read about disappearing shipments and borders confiscations.

So I've talked up Luke Slater plenty now, though almost exclusively his side-projects and side-projects that are more popular than his main-name albums. Still, Planetary Assault Systems remains his most fruitful alias, so it's no surprise he returned to it after a few shots at making a name for himself under his own name. The move from pummelling techno tools into more club-friendly territory was met with about as much resistance as you'd expect from the underground faithful, and the cross-over appeal simply wasn't having it in the year 2002. Back to the welcoming hands of faceless Berlin bosh, then, and everything was good again.

Before we got to that point, however, we have his first stab at a cross-over record; or a record that did away with the silly anonymous techno producer thing. Because if David Holmes and Laurent Garnier could make respectable techno records with their real names, then by g'ar so could Luke Slater. And I'm just being goofy in calling Freek Funk a cross-over album. Yeah, Luke Slater's no longer a faceless techno producer, and this stuff is certainly more accessible to the material he was releasing on Peacefrog Records or as The 7th Plain earlier in his career. Plus, in the year 1997, one couldn't help but fall sway to the trends of the time in his native Britain. So here's a big beat track in Bless Bless, and some trip-hop offerings in Zebediah and Walking The Line. Just, y'know, done in a techno-y sort of way.

And for you purists out there, Freek Funk provides plenty of the pounding bosh, Engine One, Filter 2 and Time Dancer doing the dutiful dancefloor demolishin'. Elsewhere Mr. Slater gets his futuristic Detroit-bleep on (Purely, Origin, titular cut), and even has a stab at the ol' electro with Are You There? Then there's Love, a track that sounds like nothing else on this album, but damn if it doesn't predict The Field's ultra-loopy melodic pseudo-trance vibes nearly a decade early. You'll definitely want to feel a good gurn on this one.

Lots of techno variety then, though that unfortunately impedes the album some, almost too much going on for it to stick in your mind. It's the same problem Garnier's 30 had, and though Luke does try bridging the more jarring stylistic transitions of Freek Funk with interstitial Scores, it still isn't enough for things to come together as a seamless whole. It's a messy album, but certainly worth a listen for the gems throughout.

Pet Shop Boys - Introspective

Parlaphone: 1988/2018

It's no secret Pet Shop Boys' success had as much to do with appealing to club culture as it was cranking out the radio hits. For their first couple LPs though, there was a clear separation of the two, the albums-proper containing the regular songs, and the EPs, singles, and dance compilations providing the extended disco versions of the hits. Which is how it was always done, or at least since the advent of the 12” records pressed specifically for DJ use. People at home ain't got time for pop tunes that don't wrap up in three-to-four minutes, while them crazies in the club just want that beat to keep going on an' on an' on an' on an'...

It was astoundingly audacious, then, for Misters Lowe and Tennant to craft an album so wholeheartedly embracing club culture while defiantly bucking the standards of pop music. There's only six tracks on Introspective, which under normal circumstances would be enough for an EP. Ah, but these are long songs, some peaking out at over nine minutes in length – the shortest, I Want A Dog, runs at six-fifteen minutes. By comparison, their longest prior LP song was One More Chance, clocking in at five twenty-eight. And as if getting Chicago house legend Frankie Knuckles in the studio with them wasn't clear enough Pet Shop Boys were all-in with this direction, they even released Introspective with a triple-vinyl option in its first run for maximum DJing efficiency.

It wasn't just Chicago house the lads from London were cribbing from. Freestyle was pretty big in the Latin clubbing areas of America too, and Domino Dancing offers nods to that genre's biggest sonic signifiers: the broken beat, and the orchestral hit. Speaking of the latter, the chap often credited with creating that distinct sound, Trevor Horn, offers his production on a couple tracks too. And hoo, can you tell, Left To My Own Devices and It's Alright featuring the sort of expansive studio work more befitting a big Broadway show than anything for an underground rinse-out (a full-on choir!). It almost makes the simple Knuckles groove of I Want A Dog quaint in comparison, but even he received quite the spit-shine compared to the rough stuff he released through Trax around the same time. No doubt having big studio bucks behind you can do wonders for the final result, and Pet Shop Boys were big clout havers indeed.

The songs themselves, while not as instantly identifiable as their early hits, are still effective in turning a worm in your ear. The topics range from their usual interpersonal observational material, to the mundane (he really wants that dog), all the way to the Big Picture. Like, after all the shit that went down in the '80s, it's has to be alright after, so long as we have dance music providing us with comfort. Oh, sweetie, if you only knew of the macabre and perverse sounds soon to emerge from clubland.

Lars Leonhard - Interstellar

self release: 2017

Dub techno is all well and good in exploring the minutiae of simple wonders and personal introspection, but those cavernous reverb effects demand the indulgence of wide open spaces too. Say, the huge vista of our galaxy - that's what I'm talkin' about. Oh, there's still something of an intimate nature behind this concept, a lonesome voyage into the realms of the impossibly vast, a singular path tread by those who need a little solitude from their hectic sociable lives.

Whatever the case, it's clear Lars Leonhard ventured outside his usual forte with Interstellar, at least at a conceptual level. We're still in his comfort zone of chill, groovy dub techno, some of which can up the pace a little towards the domain of prog-psy, though not much in this particular album's case. Also, I can only let myself down by all-too high expectations. Cover art alone had me hyped for all that hyperbolic stuff I gushed in the first paragraph, and Interstellar simply is not that. It's Lars Leonhard doing Lars Leonhard th'angs, and I'm fine with that no matter the context. I just need to temper my expectations some, lest I turn into one of those Game Of Thrones fans demanding ridiculous changes on something not catered specifically to me. I mean, if I wanted to hear exactly what I wanted to hear with this album, I should have done the logical thing and perform an incantation wherein I could possess Lars while he was in the studio, taking over his talents to create the album I was expecting. Or, at a more practical level, just make such a record myself. That almost sounds harder than studying the occult arts though.

Musically, there's only one thing throughout Interstellar that had me raising an eyebrow, a synth that kinda' sounds like an out-of-place car horn in Solar System, but that's minor. Nay, two things leaped out at me that slightly sullied my enjoyment of Interstellar, one of which really isn't the fault of Lars at all. First though, this album is kinda' tracky, in that it doesn't have quite the same narrative flow other releases of his have; just ten dub techno tunes with a light space theme running through them. I can dig on that, but it does put this album a step below something like 1549.

The other thing however – and I know this is an utterly selfish quibble – is the mastering sounds flatter compared to the rich, dubby texture I've come to know from Mr. Leonhard. Now, some of those releases were polished by the best in the game – it's unfair comparing the mastering of a self-release item like Interstellar to the EPs he put out on Ultimae Records. It's just when I have expectant notions of the cosmic grand already in my ear-brain, hearing a Lars Leonhard album that's a touch lower on his discography's scale can't help but leave me wanting. Maybe microspace is the better dub techno realm after all.

P-Ben - Influence

Motech: 2015

I do wonder how 'made' some producers and DJs feel throughout their career. Like, obviously releasing anything with some modicum of success is an achievement in itself, but how high do they set the bar for themselves? When Benjamin Geelen first set out on his techno journey, did he have aspirations to be recognized by the music's Mecca, or just be satisfied with any ol' fame in France? I almost have to suspect the former, and not just because his Discoggian bio name-drops a Jeff Mills set as a catalyst in Mr. Geelen pursuing this particular path of electronic music.

When it comes to European techno, there's generally been two, maybe three, distinct camps that, while finding some heritage from Detroit, are clearly striding out in their own fashion. You'd expect a chap from France would hitch his wagon to the Berliners or Italians (French techno? What is this?), but never underestimate that Detroit allure. Sure, a few early P-Ben singles couldn't help but ride that Berghain minimal bandwagon, but he found room for the more vibrant, soulful tech-house sounds originating from the Michigan city too. After flitting about various European labels (including setting up a couple of his own), Mr. Geelen landed a few remixing gigs for Kevin Saunderson's KMS print. Shortly after, he released this debut album with Motech, and the journey for Detroit recognition was complete. Nothing left to do but bask in the adulation of techno snobbery.

Thing is, I can't help but feel P-Ben's adhered to the Detroit legacy all a little too closely with Influence. There's little I hear that I can fault, but equally little I can recommend for those who don't want more of the same. Which has always been Detroit techno's crutch and its curse, hasn't it? An identifiable style that inspires many, with remarkable room for personal creativity should one indulge it, but insanely strict in keeping things within the boundaries of what it deems pure and true. Some claim Detroit techno can't even be Detroit techno unless it's made by someone from Detroit. Does that include those from Detroit who moved to Berlin, or vice-versa then?

Anyhow, P-Ben takes us through ten tracks of various strains of techno, most of which wouldn't sound out of place at any number of DEMF parties. Fifteen Years There Was Bones, From A South Place, and July touches on the groovier, future-funkier stuff. Good News and Ultimate get more on that bangin' action, though the track Bang surprisingly doesn't; nay, that one goes dubbier, as does Good News. Elsewhere, Analog Trip and Another Way strut the Jeff Mills minimalism, while Old Soul Music and This Song Is The Way offers a couple peak-time anthem options, including a 'house sermon' in the latter. So yeah, all the bases touched, with nary a duff cut among the lot. Just, y'know, coming off serviceable and straight-forward as well, a collection of techno tools for the Detroit faithful. And that's fine, really it is. It's fine.

Brasil & The Gallowbrothers Band - In The Rain, In The Noise

Cat Sun: 2010

I admit I'm not the most adventurous of music consumers, generally sticking to the lanes I'm most comfortable in. Like, compared to some vinyl hounds out there, who buy anything they find just to add to the piles in their sheds, I tend to be a little more selective. I'm not one to dive into second-hand shops or yard sales gathering up the numerous Anne Murray and Gordon Lightfoot compilations I find – heck, I don't even buy every Neil Young album, and I likes me some Neil Young more than others. When I do tread beyond my boundaries, it's almost always due to incidental circumstances that I do – taking on someone's former music collection, for instance. Turns out, there's another method of exploration I never knew existed, one that Databloem provided: the mystery splurge!

At their online website, they give you the option of a 'surprise box' of either ten or twenty CDs from their backstock, which had me rubbing my beard as I arched an eyebrow ever so inquisitively. The back of my conscience advised me that these selections couldn't possibly be the best they had to offer, most likely items that had failed to sell-through in their initial runs, and were now being offered as an enticing package to help clear stock. To which the hoarder in my brain responded, “Yes, and?” What if something unexpected and unique came about from this offer, leading me to a fresh path of musical discovery I hadn't considered yet? Plus, this being Databloem, I was confident they wouldn't go that far astray from what I was familiar with. Surely some mundane post-rock was the worst I had to brace myself for.

I honestly might have already covered an album or two from that 'surprise box' purchase, but this one was definitely the first that leaped out for me, exactly what I figured would be the bulk of what I was in for. Brasil & The Gallowbrothers Band is a group name that fits the post-rock bill, as does a title like In The Rain, In The Noise, with song titles like After Dark I Only Hear The Echoes Of Their Footsteps and Another Night In Cottage No. 21. This seems modus operani for this trio of Domink Savio, T.E.R., and Tomek Mirt, who've flitted about the Polish abstract-ambient scene for the past two decade now under various projects and guises, this particular album the last under this particular alias.

And there's some cool sounding stuff on here, a quirky, trippy minimalism that touches upon ambient's more psychedelic aspects - Spider Is Awaken sure reminds me of The Orb's Spanish Castles In Space in capturing pastoral chill. Still, this is all a very indie rock approach to the music, which seldom succeeds in drawing me in the same way as traditional ambient does. I don't know why that is. You'd have to deep-dive into my brain to figure that one out, and really, who want's to do that?

Waki - Hurry Up And Relax

Databloem: 2011

Oh, is that an order? A command? A decree? I... don't think I can take that kind of pressure. Like, have you ever had one of those nights where you have to wake up at a specific time to make important appointments, and you can't help but feel stressed out over the need to just relax and get to sleep? Having an album title literally demand that of you is that feeling, only ten times more so! What happens if I don't hurry up and relax as Waki instructs me to? Will I not get the full context of this record without my brain turning its attention span down several notches within the first few minutes? Or will something more sinister, more insidious happen, like a ticking time-bomb planted within my psyche that will implode if I don't chill the f' down soon enough? Should I consider the caffeine content within my bloodstream before throwing this album on, whether it will significantly impede upon my ability to relax within the ascribed amount of time Waki has allotted within, whatever that time-frame may be? Just so much pressure from a single title. Just... so much...

Even more disconcerting is the fact that Hurry Up And Relax is such a schizophrenic album, I couldn't chill out to it if I tried. You'd think this being out on Databloem, it'd contain some nice ambient passages, or pleasant downtempo vibes. And it does, but th'ar be techno here too. And Kraftwerkian electro-pop. And ...drum 'n' bass? No, wait, Drum & Space is atmospheric jungle – totally different! Still doesn't make a lick of sense on Databloem though.

Still, Wakisaka Akifumi has been a rather eclectic musician for much of his career, so genre dalliances isn't that much out of the norm. Mostly fussing about in Japanese obscurity while self-releasing his stuff throughout the '90s, he caught a small break getting picked up by trendy Cologne techno label Traum Schallplatten (Music For Lazy People), then shortly after got a release on the fledgling Databloem (Music For Waki People). This is the follow-up to that, released some seven years later. Guess he figured the 4CD retrospective Special he released in between would sate all the Waki-fans for a while.

When I say Hurry Up And Relax is schizo', I ain't messing. This album has the sort of lengthy, minimalist pieces of dense timbre you'd expect out of harmonic Japanese ambient, but will follow them up with something out of a totally different release. Stargate sounds like it should be in a Swayzak DJ set, not surrounded by two atonal drone compositions. How does Ocean's retro Berlin-School noodling mesh with the aforementioned Drum & Space? Going from the languid ambience of Family to the oddball electro-pop of Dr. Loveburger? Sure, I think these are all interesting tracks on their own, but come off nonsensical when mashed all together as they are here. Context: an important factor that I'm either completely missing, or Hurry Up And Relax lacks regardless.

The Sabres Of Paradise - Haunted Dancehall

Warp Records: 1994

I didn't have the greatest introduction to The Sabres Of Paradise, which may seem strange considering it was their agreed-upon classic Smokebelch II (Beatless Mix) that was my introduction. Appearing as it did in that Techno Nights – Ambient Dawn compilation though, it sounded so out of place and strange, especially on the supposed 'techno' CD. Even as time went on and I understood the significance of the tracks selected for that collection, Smokebelch II still never clicked with me. I assumed it would remain one of those tracks that made perfect sense if you had “been there” when it was rinsed out at all those infamous British raves during a misty sunrise in farmer's fields, but not walking home in the grey rain of the Canadian west coast.

Still, that didn't stop me from being intrigued by their sophomore effort Haunted Dancehall, if nothing else than for Jack Moss' review of it on TranceCritic. I mean, just the concept alone is catnip, the idea of crafting a soundtrack to a raver noir novel that didn't actually exist. Or maybe Andrew Weatherall had the story in mind all along, but lacked the confidence in his written prose to do it justice, settling on liner note 'excerpts' instead. Hey, I can dig that. Some folks feel they're at their creative best in specific lanes, and Weatherall clearly knows his lane's in the DJing domain. Still, his production ain't much of a slouch either.

Though let's not forget the other players involved with this Sabres Of Paradise project, including members of Brit-tronica outfit The Aloof in Jagz Kooner and Gary Burns. Throw in a Portishead remix on Planet D and a proper dancehall-dub contribution from Steve Gilderon Wilmot, and you've one remarkably diverse album in Haunted Dancehall. You wouldn't expect anything less from an early Warp Records record though, would you?

In fact, I'm not sure folks really knew what to make of it back when, what with no clear-cut singles springing from the album. The Sabres basically had to self-release the funky blaxploitation breaks of Theme as an EP, while dubby groover Wilmot did some solo business as well. No Smokebelches though – not even a Beatless Mix. I wager that Chapel Street Market 9am comes close though, capturing a similar 'morning after daze' vibe.

And gosh, the rest? Whatever that ultra-metallic funky rhythm is in Bubble And Slide. The rolling jazz-dub of Duke Of Earlsfield. Tow Truck screaming for a British crime-caper. The effortless cinematic IDM funk of Ballad Nicky McGuire (seriously, d'at rhythm!). While not quite as leftfield as stars of Artificial Intelligence went, the sound-craft on Haunted Dancehall easily puts it on par with The Black Dogs and Autechres of the era. The only reason it doesn't get brought up in similar discussion is either The Sabres' earlier discography of straight-forward rave records, or their audacity in tying all their tunes into some sort of narrative. Fools, we can't have folks actually understanding these tracks!