Stokes - Local Crowd

Databloem: 2018

It's not so bad that I missed out on Saul Stokes, is it? If his Discoggian data's to be believed, he did the bulk of his music production at a time I couldn't have known of him. There might have been the odd chance I'd have run into his work on Portland based ambient label Hypnos Recordings, some of that print's releases drifting a few hundred kilometres north to the Canadian border. Sadly, I wasn't so in the ambient know as I would have liked to think I was at the turn of the century, still sticking with the few acts and names I was most comfortable and familiar with. It wouldn't be until the advent of a little record database website that I realized just how massive this scene actually was. And lord would it take even longer for my finances to reach such a level I could even indulge in this expanded universe in any meaningful way. (never mind the digital-only Kahvi Collective releases, because block-headed stubbornness)

It was around the peak of his productivity that he released an album on the fledgling Databloem, mostly a collection of live recordings with a few original tracks sprinkled in. Fast forward fifteen years later, and Mr. Stokes has returned to the veteran Databloem, which also happened to be his first new album in seven years, and ten since his last on an actual label. To say he's slowed down some in this past decade is an understatement, but this has always been a fickle scene. Some producers can crank out the jams forever without missing a mark, while others have their initial flash of inspiration, then let things slide down as other interests take hold. Seems familiar, somehow...

As for the music we can expect from Saul, he was a bit all over the place way back in the day, drifting from ambient experiments to soft, fuzzy downtempo techno. His Fields album, released the same year as his first Databloem record (Radiate), might have even fit with the early Ultimae Records catalogue, which maybe explains why Vincent Villuis has provided an Ultimae Mixdown™ for Local Crowd. No, wait, he's been doing that for most of Databloem's new releases now. So, hey, if you've been jonesing for more that label's lush sonic headspace, check out this label's recent offerings!

I must say though, Local Crowd is an odd album to be given the Ultimae Mixdown™, in that it's such a simple little collection of tunes. Best I can describe is 'electro dream pop', just without the harsher 'electro' element, and the overt shoegazey elements of dream pop toned down. I still get the same day-glo feels from this, just not so overbearing about it. I sadly don't have much to specifically say either, as the vibe and tunes are all generally the same throughout the album, making highlights difficult to point out. Local Crowd is a pure 'reflective feels' record, which I guess is enough.

Sghor - Le Grand Mystère

Snowy Tension Pole: 2009

I think I have a problem. A music buying problem. True, one can look at my living room, see all the wall-mounted shelves holding some fifteen-hundred CDs, and say with a roll of the eyes, “Well, d'uh!” That's not what I mean though. Like, compared to some collectors, my library is paltry, a fraction of one's true potential of blowing every single penny on product (sheds, my friends, sheds). Maybe if I was less discriminate in my purchases practices, I could reach that lofty achievement(?), but nay, I remain somewhat selective, generally knowing what kind of music I'm getting and where I'm getting it from. As this blog's a hefty testament, I have a pretty firm handle on the whens and wheres of every CD I've gathered.

And now I'm holding within my grasp a CD that I've no idea where it came from. It's definitely dark ambient, but not from any of the dark ambient labels I generally buy from, and there's no general dark ambient shop I grab random albums from. Did this come included in that Databloem 'mystery box' I indulged in? That can't be right, this sound well outside the usual wheel-house that label/store operates within. The Ultimae shop, maybe? Like, this certainly looks like the sort of cover art I'd blind-buy from them, and they certainly branch out into genres that don't typically track with their primary output. Still, a dark ambient album from 2009?

Wherever I got Le Grand Mystère, here's what I (meaning Lord Discogs) know about it. The artist behind it is Sghor, who goes by Kryzsztof Mrozek in the black metal band Cold Empty Universe. He's released some half-dozen albums under this alias, first debuted with Depressive Black Ambient, with stray items released on his Bandcamp to this day. Le Grand Mystère in particular kicked off the short-lived label Snowy Tension Pole, which also featured releases from b°tong, about the only tie I can figure I have to this particular album. Lord Discogs does recommend Gustaf Hildebrand's Starscape and raison d'être's Enthralled By The Wind Of Lonelieness with it though, so that's something. I'll take whatever I can in figuring out how Le Grand Mystère popped up in my stacks o' CDs.

Anyhow, the album. There's ten tracks, all numerically titled KKK. They range from four to over ten minutes in length, and generally sound the same throughout. Sghor essentially uses discordant layered drones that ebb and flow like waves, building to a loud peak, then fading out before another emerges, each track consistent in maintaining this structure. Mostly I hear orchestral strings and operatic voices within the timbre, with the latter more prominent in tracks like KKK8 and KKK9. Or was that KKK6 and KKK2? Pretty sure there's a layered bell tone in KKK3. Honestly though, this is another album that just feels like one long track with relatively static scenery. This descent into Hell is still creepy, but who knew the Devil wasn't much for spicing up his domain's decor.

Various - Kulør 001

Kulør: 2018

I've argued 'real' trance never went away, just rebranded itself as something else and kept to small secluded corners of techno's domain. Lately, it seems those who wanted to make trance but couldn't admit to making trance because of the Dutch's handling of the tag have slowly re-emerged from the recesses of club culture, prominent critically-approved DJs rinsing out the odd throwback tune here and there. It's gotten to the point where a label can make honest-to-God vintage trance music and have music journalist sorts sing its praises for accomplishing all the things it peaked out on by the year 1995. Ah, the dependable Twenty-Year retro cycle never fails.

I know, I know. Why be cynical when I should be celebrating a release like Kulør 001? Surely I've been waiting for a release such as this since the turn of the century. I guess, kinda'? It's not like I've run out of old school trance music to unearth. Truth be told, aside from a few labels that could do no wrong, a great deal of it was rightly left in the '90s, a sound that had creatively done almost all that it might. Then again, dub techno perseveres to this day, and ain't much variation in that genre's sound over the decades. Ambient too, if we're being honest. Okay, so classic trance could have maintained something for itself if enough willing, inventive producers indulged in it. The clubbing climate just wasn't there for it though, and when eurotrance stole the name for itself, that was about all she wrote for the hypnotic spacey offshoot of EBM and techno.

But as mentioned, retro's undeniable pull can reach back to any ol' sound and make it fresh and hot again, which is what I'm sure this upstart new label out of Denmark is counting on. Hey, I liked the Danes' take on trance, always finding a sweet middle ground between German class and Dutch cheese. And that's what I get out of Kulør's launching compilation, Kulør 001. Ooh, triple-digits compilation numbering. Mighty ambitious aspirations there, just like In Trance In Trust. I wonder what that label's been up to...

Just in case you were wondering (worried?) this would be a complete retro love-in, the beats throughout this compilation are as tough as modern techno can get. Nay, it's all about those melodies, such light uplifting ditties that'll have you reminiscing early '90s Paul van Dyk. And gosh, there's some high BPMs here too, a proper reminder of when trance music was made to fuel your speedy E' benders, rather than hop in one spot under a ketamine daze. Mind, some of these wouldn't be much more than filler on an old Rave Mission collection, but they trigger the nostalgia endorphins just the same. If such tunes remain too cheesy for you though, there's some proper faceless techno bosh on Kulør 001 as well. Guess classic trance still needs a little more time before a full return is embraced.

Samora - Kaleidos

Databloem: 2018

Sometimes it's never the actual album I'm reviewing that sparks the most discussion. Indeed, what more can be said for the eleven-zillionth ambient record that is released annually? I'll buy such music more for my personal interest and enjoyment, but that doesn't provide me with much material to wax the bull with. It's almost a relief when I pop over to the artist's Discoggian data and discover a rich history I've overlooked, wherein I can burn ample word count touching on prior releases and the funny label names said producer has released on. (so many funny label names... just, so many...). I was not offered such a bounty of talking-point riches with Samora, but he did dredge up some unfortunate recollections.

Samora is Enrico Marani, a synth chap who's worked with various experimental, avant-garde outfits out of Italy, Le Forbici di Manitù being the most consistent of the bunch to this day. Being part of a band for over a decade didn't leave his own muse fallow, spending time dabbling in his own original compositions. He eventually made a debut album as Samora called The Unspeakable, a collection of minimalist ambient with recited poetry from cellist Christine Hanson, released on Psychonavigation Records. Yes, that Psychonavigation Records. Hey, at least it was in 2012, before all the shit hit the fan with that label. A follow-up album came out on Psycho-N's Italian sub-label Tranquillo Records (Lontano), and when those went tits-up, a third album The Gift came out on the rebranded label Where Ambient Lives – that one also seems to have gone into limbo, though unlike the others, its Bandcamp remains up. Might be mindful of buying anything from it though. Anyhow, it seems poor Enrico finally had enough of that label's sketchy practices, and took his Samora project to the steadier Databloem for his fourth album Kaleidos. Methinks t'was a wise decision.

If your eyes didn't glaze over much in that block o' words above, you may have noticed the genre namedrop you're in for with Samora. Right, even being on Databloem is a good hint, but even the small sampling of the label's output I've indulged has shown some nice, surprising variety. This is minimalist ambient as you likely imagine it though. Stretched-out droning pads, sprinkles of piano and bell tones, fits of burbling electronics and static fluff, self-titled compositions averaging in the double-digit minute lengths with little care of destination, only the journey. In the opening track alone, I felt I was shifting into differing tonal lanes every few minutes, though Keleidos 1 is possibly one of the 'busiest' among these six pieces.

I say “possibly”, because this honestly isn't an album that sticks with me. It's ambient as pure sonic wallpaper, which is fine since that's Mr. Marani's intent. Can't knock a body of music that succeeds in the artist's vision. Just wish I could give it a stronger recommendation for others beyond the genre's faithful. So it goes in this scene.

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.