Specta Ciera + The Circular Ruins - Mnemosyne

dataObscura: 2016

Welp, the happy-funtime house music was a nice detour, but we must return to the regularly scheduled ambient dronescapes I clearly over-indulged in last year. Like, I thought I spread things out a bit from the Databloems and the dataObscuras, what with a Motech dive and sporadic other items along the way (Stacey Pullen! Pet Shop Boys! Sixtoo?). Not enough, turns out, with many more of these sorts of albums to come before I reach the end of the current backlog. Ah well, at least there isn't a huge pile of Cryo Chamber in here too, as in backlogs of before. Nay, that's for the next round of backlog reviews! Mwa ha-ha-ha!

At least this time, I'm not going in so blind. I've already touched upon The Circular Ruins; aka: Nunc Stans; aka: Anthony Kerby; aka: the dude that runs this dataObscura house. Specta Ciera is new though ...or is he? Apparently I have covered him as well, though under his real name of Devin Underwood. If that doesn't quite ring a bell, might I 'send' you to 'the past' Carpe Sonum Records in my archives? Eh? Eh...? Wow, tough crowd. I'm really dealing with the data-obscure with these artists, aren't I?

Anyhow, Specta Ciera has generally been Mr. Underwood's primary alias, and after releasing around half-dozen albums on his own, started feeling the collaborative itch with guys like Benjamin Dauer and The Circular Ruins. Seems an Arbee has become Devin's latest music beau, including releases on dataObscura and Carpe Sonum Records together. Damn, if they manage something out on one of Lee Norris' labels, they'll be, like, a pleasant ambient drone power couple! This scene could use more juicy gossip like that (and none of the 'label manager meltdowns' ...okay, maybe a little of that too, for the LOLs).

Mnemosyne opens with Preparations For Sleep. Ah, dang'it. Whenever I sit back to take in an album such as this, I often have great difficulty staying awake for the duration. That's not a bad thing, really, calm music easing you into a state of mental soothing doing its job at all. Letting me know that I likely won't have much of a chance against Mnemosyne though, that's just trolling me now.

All joking aside, the Specta Ruins (Circular Ciera?) pairing does make for an interesting contrast. Granted, I haven't listened to a tonne from these two, but enough to get a general idea of their styles, Kerby often exploring the minimalist spaces among field recordings and subtle drones, Underwood a little more musical in his layering of synth tones and pad timbre. There are some downright dreamy passages throughout Mnemosyne, where one can lose themselves in the distant melodies emanating from underneath burbling electronics and fuzzy drone. It takes a bit to really grab you, mind, but by album's end, I'm feelin' as chilled out as- oh geez! Why does final track Quandary have such a comparatively ominous tone to it? Harsh my mellow, man.

Various - Hed Kandi The Mix: Summer 2004

Hed Kandi: 2004

As I continue my curiosity-sating plunge into Hed Kandi's prime years (cheap used CDs help), one issue I've had with them is their unmixed nature. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for having full tracks for my own music collection, but when you're dealing with double-disc compilations of very similar music throughout, it grows monotonous hearing all those obligatory DJ-friendly intros and outros over and over and over. And honestly, this is only an issue on collections like Disco Heaven or Beach House, where the selections are about as homogeneous as this genre can get. It all works well enough in mix sets, but the stop-start nature of unmixed tracks calls for variety, capitalizing on the freedom of breathing space between tunes. The more I listened to Hed Kandi compilations, the more I wondered why they didn't offer them in the form of DJ mixes.

Well lo', they did! ...after a time. There were occasional single-disc 'samplers' released, but by 2003, the demand was high enough that Hed Kandi officially dove into the overstuffed multi-CD DJ mix market. Only they kept things in-house, curator Mark Doyle doing the business, no major spotlight on some superstar mercenary jock stealing the shine from the real heroes of a DJ mix: the artists that make the tunes!

The Mix: Summer 2004 was one of the label's earliest forays into the DJ mix medium, and let me tell you, all those nitpicks about Hed Kandi I highlighted above, instantly solved here! Sure, there's no technical wizardry out of these sets, but who'd ever buy something from this label expecting that? You're first and foremost buying from Hed Kandi because the catchy cover art lured you in. Then, maybe distant second, the music selection intrigued you further. So long as there aren't any horrid transitions or tonal clashes, you're gonna' have a good time.

The two main mixes of this 3CD set remains consistent with Hed Kandi's breaded butter, CD1 featuring the garage and disco house, and CD2 getting in on those clubby anthems and *shudder* trendy 'electro' schlock. Yeah, Ferry Corsten's Rock Your Body Rock is here, and sounding way out of place even in track list consisting of Junior Jack's Stupidisco, Armand Van Helden's “I cans Daft Punk too!” Hear My Name, and Cicada's “Stadium Remix” of Deepest Blue's Is It A Sin. Can you tell I prefer CD1?

Of course, CD3 gives me the most endorphin tingles, an almost obligatory 'classics' collection of tunes. Well, 'back in the day' compared to the year 2004 – the upfront tunes of this release are now older than some of the classics were then! And while some may roll their eyes at seeing tracks like Ce Ce Peniston's Finally, Robin S.' Show Me Love, and Aftershock's Slave To The Vibe trotted out again, I bet you haven't heard them arranged in this order! Oh, you have. Well, I just have a soft spot for oldies from Morales, Humphries, and Knuckles, so there.

Utada Hikaru - Ultra Blue

Eastworld: 2006

(a Patreon Request from Philoi)

Now that I've gotten the boggles out of my mind regarding the juggernaut of a commercial success that is Utada Hikaru's music career, I can do a deeper dive into one of her albums. Eh, I left out her attempts at breaking through in America? For sure there was an attempt, almost immediately after the release of Deep Blue in fact. How could her brand not want to replicate that fame on this side of the Pacific? Surely folks in the U.S. of A. would look past her ethnic origins and appreciate the music- BWAHAAHAHA!!! Oh man, I couldn't even finish it! They certainly did all they could trying though, what with Island Def Jam getting Timbaland at the producer's console. I suppose Exodus debuting at 160 on the Billboard was okay for a mostly unknown foreign talent but yeah, small wonder she returned to Japan after this. For a 'foreign produced' record though, album did gangbusters in her native land. Obviously it did.

Ultra Blue is the Japanese album Hikaru released in the wake of her American expenditure, and boy are the English influences ever still present, a track list almost entirely in that language. In fact, of the twelve songs, only three use kanji. Another three do that funny Japanese thing where they capitalize the whole title (BLUE, COLORS, WINGS), as though they're so hype for the song, they just gotta' shout it at the top of their lungs. But yeah, the rest are all conventional English titles: Be My Last, One Night Magic, Keep Tryin', This Is Love, Making Love. Oh, and this CD is 'thicc', yo', one of the fattest jewel cases I've ever held. Nothing but the most luxurious booklet paper for Utada Hikaru!

There's also more English in the songs themselves, though mostly in the choruses, Hikaru often flipping between languages even mid-line. I remain dumb-founded that folks, of any ethnicity, can pull that off (work with some carrying conversations fluently flipping from English to Punjabi). Judging by the titles though, most of the lyrics deal with the usual love topics R&B and pop settle on, and as my Japanese remains pathetically weak, I've no clue how deep or profound Hikaru's words are. She's certainly emotive enough to carry a tune though.

And yet, Ultra Blue was apparently one of her weakest selling albums, with a slightly more electronic tinge to the music not quite vibing with her massive audience. Which is weird to me because this all sounds like the same super-slick polished pop cribbing contemporary influences I've heard from mainstream markets for decades. A little Latin in One Night Magic, a little trip-hop in 海路, a little... UK urban in COLORS? Okay, maybe not as indebted to American R&B as her earlier output, but not so blatantly Japanese as I expect of most j-pop either. Was it simply not enough of either? Well, if there's anything I wouldn't call Ultra Blue, it's vanilla. Now rose, there's a flavour that's apt.

Anatolya - Mirror Messages

Unknown Tone Records: 2016

Oh, why couldn't have this been my first Unknown Tone Records album to review? Then I could have killed off the obligatory word salad of background info here instead of Twincities' CD. At least there, I had some additional artist information to dig deeper on if I so chose. This Anatolya though, he's a giant ol' Discoggian blank, Mirror Messages his lone entry, save a single track contributed to the Unknown Tone compilation Vol. IV. At least the liner notes tells me the artist behind Anatolya is Brian Phillips, and hails from the Florida region. Not much else beyond that though. The Bandcamp page does send me to a link of his other artistic endeavours, including paintings, video, and sculpturing. It all looks bleak and macabre and very dark ambient, which makes me wonder how he wound up on Unknown Tone in the first place? Are there other morose music makers on the label I'm not aware of? That album titled Stay Out Long Enough And The Night Becomes Your Home from Lost Trail seems rather dark and gothic.

Anatolya though, I've almost nothing to work with, beyond the music itself. And I'll be honest, when I heard the opening harsh drone of Before You Were Born, I thought I was in for one of those experiences. Where the playing of a full LP is more an endurance test of sensory overload than letting oneself be lost in the vibe the artist has crafted. It's certainly effective in setting a discordant tone, the sort of sound you'd expect from the opening credits of a mind-breaking art-house film. Did I really want to hear such a thing on this nice summer day though? Heck, even in the bleakest of winter?

Fortunately, things turn to the moodier side of dark drone after, with creepy sounds and disembodied voices floating about a murky timbre. And gosh, The Nomad Flute actually feels a tad welcoming, in a warbly melancholy sort of way. Elsewhere, John Fire Lame Deer shows Mr. Phillips has a lighter side to his muse, even if its chipper piano melody remains buried in sludgy synth. Punctum finds him getting his experimental side on (such stretched oscillations), while In The Window and Lotophagi do the crackly minimalist ambient thing that jives with much of what I've heard from Unknown Tone's catalogue – there had to be a connection somewhere! It was almost enough to lull me into a sense of calm that I almost forgot just how confrontational the opening track was, but closer Eukurai reminds me that Mirror Messages had its fingers in the dark ambient side of things for most of its runtime.

So an interesting little album from Anatolya... Anatolya... Why does that name seem so familiar? Let me check something. *click-clack clickity-clack-clack ...BASS!* Oh, Anatolia, as in the Anatolia Peninsula. Y'know, watching a bunch of King & Generals videos will get certain locations stuck in your head something fierce. Lot of history in that region, believe you me.

Twincities - Memoirs: To Dust

Unknown Tone Records: 2015

Is this really the first Unknown Tone Records album I'm reviewing? I feel like I've touched upon them at some point before. Maybe a name-drop from an associated producer? I guess I technically covered the Lee Norris and Porya Hatami collaboration Every Day Feels Like A New Drug, though that was via a digital version offered by Mr. Norris, not the original CD as released by Unknown Tone. I can only assume that's how I came across this label the first place, after which I must have visited their Bandcamp, spotted a CD bundle deal, ordered a bunch of stuff, and ended up with a pile of albums I barely have any recollection of getting. Having reviewed most of my old collection, methinks this blog has turned into nothing more than a glorified record of how I'm getting all my new stuff. It's grown increasingly difficult keeping track of it all, what with too many options now available to indulge my weakest impulse. Why can't I be internet addicted to something more traditional, like gambling or porn?

Twincities is Fletcher McDermott, an individual that doesn't have much Discoggian presence beyond his work for this project. I assume he's done work elsewhere, just because he seems like the sort of chap who'd have plied his trade with a variety of indie or abstract musicians around the Long Island region. Or this project is just something he does in his spare time, his day job some mundane thing that's prevented him from expanding further into the domain of 'fifty releases in one decade' ambient producers. Wouldn't surprise me, given the state of living conditions in the New York City region. Music don't pay the bills like it used to there. In fact, did it ever? Maybe in the grimy '70s.

Mr. McDermott describes his music as 'noisy ambiance', though there's nothing terribly racket-inducing about his stuff. Nay, he makes very calm, minimalist droning material, with static and glitch treatments giving his sparse arrangements a lived-in feeling. It's not too dissimilar to Porya Hatami, come to think of it, which makes sense they'd both appear on the same label. And sparked my interest enough to spring for a few albums off them in the process. It's all coming back to me, guys!

Also, as the album's title implies, a hazy sense of faded memories permeates the mood, whether of wandering urban locals or sitting at home with some long forgotten classical music tugging at the back of your mind. He does have a few musicians contribute for those moments (Ysanne Spevack on cello, Tanya Lam on viola), but they serve the mood of the pieces rather than take lead in any way. Well, maybe at the end of A Stuck Bird, their soothing tones coming after the most abrasive stretch of static-drone Memoirs: To Dust subjects you to. Also, damn but does that steel-pedal guitar drone in A Flown Bird ever stretch to the furthest reaches of the horizon. Fly on, my son.

Harold Budd - Luxa

All Saints: 1996/2018

So I got myself a box of Budd. I was stunned to discover such a thing existed, and kinda' relieved too. There's just so much Budd to sample out there now, different flavours for different moods, such that one can get lost figuring out where to begin. And yeah, I've sampled a little Budd in the past, toked on the obvious flavours as cultivated by Brian Eno. There's so much more in Budd's bowl than The Pearl and Ambient 2 (The Plateaux Of Mirror) though. Sure, I'll find myself in familiar territory of calm, soothing haze of pleasant piano tones no matter which album I dab on, but surely there's a bluffer's guide of his various musical crops. Indeed there is, the Budd Box, with six albums from his first fifteen years of releases. Yeah, that's but a third of Budd's total output in that time-frame, but as I said, I'm after a bluffer's guide, not a compendium.

By alphabetical decree, the first album I'm reviewing in the Budd Box is Luxa, which also happens to be the last album in the Budd Box. Or rather, the most recent, released in the near-times of 1996. Considering this box-set was initially released in 2013, it seems funny that the Budd Box only went that far into his discography. No interest in any of his post-Millennium material? Though considering there isn't a detailed Wiki entry for Luxa, it's fair to say even his more well-known works retain but a niche audience to this day.

I do wish there was a Wiki for Luxa though, in that this is an odd-ball album, and I'd love to have more background info on it. Harold himself calls it a “decorative thing”, in that it's him exploring different facets of his various musical backgrounds, in that artsy sort of way you'd expect of a student of the minimalist avant-garde.

Thus we get four segments in Luxa, the first of which is titled Butterflies With Tits - I think that's the title of the cover-art too. The longest segment, it features pieces titled after various artists in various fields (Agnes Martin, Serge Polakoff, Paul McCarthy, Anish Kapoor... you may have heard of some of them), and touches on the various keyboard tones Mr. Budd had since incorporated into his repertoire. It ain't just 'soft pedal' pianos, yo'! There's moody pads, flowing synths, and even some light jazzy percussion too.

Following that is the ultra-short Inexact Shadows segment, three short piano pieces that you'd probably think was one, single, two-fifteen minute composition. Smoke Trees, on the other hand, gets into the pure ambient side of Budd's muse, long drawn-out pieces noodling about in a calm, abstract manner, a little light percussion joining the pads and organ tones every so often. The final segment, Laughing Innuendos, features a weird contrast between its two pieces, Marion Brown doing the modern classical piano thing, and Steven Brown doing a ...piercing organ thing? Gosh, that tone almost sounds 16-bit. Oddly familiar, that.

SiJ - The Lost World

Reverse Alignment: 2015

See? See!? I knew there was SiJ in this endless backlog bundle (I've been at since March and I'm only in the 'L's, OMG!). It wasn't some flight of fanciful delusion that I somehow skipped out on the specific artist I raided Reverse Alignment for. Okay, no one doubted my proclamation of innocence in that Ajna review, because few would even care. I cared though, if for no other reason than to confirm my own fraying memories. I had to have scoured for SiJ, because I recall doing so. It couldn't be a figment of my imagination, could it? Like, one of those realistically mundane dreams you're so certain happened it becomes a permanent memory? The cruellest of such dreams I've had are the ones I've unearthed a trove of unreleased Calvin & Hobbes comics. Yes, it's been a recurrent one.

Thing about SiJ is one can be a tad flummoxed over where to start on his discography. Dude's nearly up to fifty releases this past decade, and while I'm sure a good deal of it is just drone experiments, there's bound to be plenty more that's not. Like, did you know he did a cover of Terra? As in, the theme music for Final Fantasy VI Terra? I sure didn't until I did a little poking around his Bandcamp page, and lo', there it was, his interpretation of one of the most lush compositions ever cranked out of the old SNES. Who'd have ever thought a guy appearing on Cryo Chamber would have a Nobuo Uematsu cover in his catalogue. Actually, come to think of it, that 'World Of Ruin' music would work quite nicely in a dark ambient context too.

Speaking of worlds, here is The Lost World. And yes, this is a specific tribute to the Conan Doyle novel, wherein a plateau within the Amazon jungle holds prehistoric creatures. Not to be confused with The Land That Time Forgot, the Edgar Rice Burroughs novel released almost concurrently about an Antarctica realm that holds prehistoric creatures. It was a popular sci-fi idea in the early 20th Century, usually featuring someone getting eaten by a Pleisiosaur, running from cavemen, and a volcano erupting. Heck, even Mickey Mouse had an adventure like that, which was weird considering the cavemen were actual pre-humans in a world of anthropomorphic animals. I've gotten way off track.

What caught me most off guard about SiJ's The Lost World is his inclusion of actual tribal rhythms in the titular cut, Night Near The Shores Of Gladys Lake, and A Fright Sight I Shall Never Forget. It's the most rhythm I've ever heard out of a SiJ album, and makes for welcome thematic variety with the other atmospheric drone pieces he crafts here (always with that distinct fuzzy melancholy). Then it all ends on a total whiplash of an under-produced tropical ditty called At The Falls. Well, under-produced compared to the deep atmospherics of what came before - almost comes off 16-bit in contrast. Say...

B°TONG - The Long Journey

Reverse Alignment: 2017

This is probably the first album I should have gotten from Chris Sigdell. I'd certainly wouldn't have burnt through as much word count on figuring out how to pronounce this project's name. In fact, the EMC jury's still out on that, though until I've confirmation on something specific, I've settled on “b'TONG”. Doesn't mean I won't keep alternating cases though! I giggle it could be either B°TONG or b°tong, for all intents based on the phases of the moon.

While I touched on the particulars of Mr. Sigdell's career, and the various labels he's taken B°TONG to, I didn't dive too deep into his discography. It's certainly an intriguing assortment of titles among his twenty-something releases: Microsleep, Hostile Environments, The Soul Eater, The Great Desintegrator, Prostration Before Infinity, Ascending In The Light Of an Alien Sun, I See Dead People Walking Around Like Regular People. What interests me the most about all these albums is his impeccable ability to sell you on the setting, whatever that theme may be. Yeah, I know, that should be par for the course where dark ambient is concerned, above all else atmospheric mood music as it soundtracks the macabre and perverse. You'd be surprised how often artists only pay lip-service to their concepts though, thinking pure abstraction is enough to coax imagery out of your imagination. And who knows, maybe the extended b°tong catalogue falls into this pattern as well – I've really only taken in a couple of his albums, hardly enough to gauge a full body of work. Still, if what I have heard is anything to go by, then I definitely gotta' hear what the deal is with that elf and 'haarp'.

What struck me most about The Long Journey is how it flew in the face of what I was expecting. You look at the cover, read the liner notes, and it all seems straight-forward enough. Giant black hole at the centre of our galaxy, spitting out intense energy at regular intervals, except for that one time when a really big burst was expunged from the galactic core. So, some deep space drone, with intermittent chaotic radio static, right? Except, a cacophony of noise hits you right out the gate of opener AX J1745.6-2900 (Sgr. A*)! Geez'it, I'm used to more lead-in than that. Even more confounding is all the racket is by way of earthly field recordings, like stepping out into a busy street. The track does lull you into a serene sense of drone for the remaining dozen minutes though, almost making you forget it smacked you across the face so harshly out the gate. And then he does it again with second track 2004 MN4 (impact risk- 1-300)!

The two remaining tracks are shorter and more conventional of this sort of dark drone, though even Hybris-MM threw me for a loop by again opening within the confines of our planetary realm. Rainfall and forlorn piano playing, eventually giving way to weirdo krautrock electronics. Rather old-school, that.

Distant System - Lost Sequence / Pupillary Response

self release: 2009/2010

Everyone's got that hotly anticipated item that seems perpetually postponed. The world of fantasy literature has George R.R. Martin's latest entry in his Game Of Thrones saga. The world of music has Dr. Dre's Detox. The world of music guides has Ishkur's Guide To Electronic Music V3.0. The world of video games has [checks notes]... Star Citizen now. Huh, does that mean folks have finally given up hope on Half-Life 3? Guess it can't be anticipated if it was never officially started in the first place.

Anyhow, while the above undoubtedly have had tonnes of folks hanging on every drip-fed update for years now, the bane of my anticipation remains hopeless obscure. Indeed, if Last.fm stats are anything to go by, it's not even a blip on the spaced-out psy-chill scene, as micro-niche of a scene as they get. Small wonder that Tyler Smith has kept a second Distant System LP in cryostasis for so long if the interest simply isn't there compared to his Androcell project. Dammit though, Spiral Empire remains one of the most captivating examples of this extremely specific sound tickling my limbic system that I've being craving another hit ever since. Others can have their additional songs of fire and ice, I wants my Spiral Empire 2: Revenge Of The Spiral!

While there's been small murmurs and rumblings Mr. Smith may finally dust the project off (again), I figured the best way to keep tabs on developments was to spring for the full Distant System discography on Bandcamp. Yes, I even re-bought Spiral Empire, the only time I'll likely re-buy a CD I already have in a digital format. Meanwhile, that allowed me to finally nab the two compilation-only tracks I'd missed out on way back when, Lost Sequence and Pupillary Response.

Speaking of Lost Sequence, holy cow, what's up with its scrobbling data? The track's outpaced everything else in the Distant System discography by a factor of five, and even has a whole two bars beside it on Spotify. Was the compilation it appeared on, Vampire Sunrise, really that popular? Hm, with a name like that, I wouldn't be surprised. Still, I suspect a shared link on some influencer's blog helped it along.

Anyhow, the track feeds me exactly what I crave in my Distant System fix (directly into my veins!). The epic synth pads painting the cosmic grand, the steady chugging prog-psy rhythm that makes me feel like I'm cruising on an interstellar craft, the touches of sci-fi bleeps and glitch as though I'm receiving sparse transmissions from the depths of the galactic core, all that good stuff. Pupillary Response, initially released on the far-less known Vital Signs compilation (which Tyler himself pieced together) is a more chill affair, almost meeting in the space where Distant System ends and Androcell starts. Not a whole lot happens that I haven't heard in this project before, save a chord change midway that melts my head, heart, and spleen. Sometimes the simplest tricks are the best.

Curve - Cuckoo

Anxious Records/3 Loop Music: 1993/2017

(a Patreon Request from Omskbird)

Could Curve have been bigger than they were? Sure, anything's possible, even music careers for no-talent hacks like [redacted]. Should Curve have been bigger than they were though? Possibly. For sure they had their fame, carved out a respectable niche in the alt-rock scene of the early '90s. Trouble was, a lot of rock bands were carving out respectable niches in the alt-rock scene of the early '90s, a veritable golden era for the scene as much as it was for hip-hop or rave music. It took more than some regular ol' talent to stand out from the pack, and sometimes even having a unique look and sound might not be enough, that confounding 'luck o' the fates' having as much to do with one's success as any other factor. There's only so much attention to go around, and when the crowd is crowded indeed, some acts get lost in the shuffle, returned to with greater appreciation later down the road after the dust has settled and the wheat's been separated from the chafe. No more cliches, I promise.

In sounding like such an over-amplified soup of feedback-drenched goth rock, Doppleganger certainly had an identity of its own, but was a bit much to take in as a whole. In their sophomore effort, Dean Garcia and Toni Halliday show more variety in their songcraft, even opening up with an all-out noisy cock-rocker. It certainly got the attention of Trent Reznor, providing a rub on the single. From there, Cuckoo hits the same wall-of-sound highs their previous album did, but I do hear more space between the drums, guitar feedback, and Ms. Haliday's voice. In fact, a few tracks in the middle seem to reduce the backing instruments substantially compared to the rest of the album, almost as though the gain on the mixing console was suddenly taken down to a seven from an eleven. Unreadable Communication in particular almost sounds like it's shooting for trip-hop dubbiness, save a mid-song guitar freak-out. Was this intentional? I'd like to assume so, but it kinda' sounds like a mistake too.

Speaking of 'quiet', how about that Left Of Mother, Curve going acoustic! Okay, there's still plenty of layered pedal effects as the song carries on, but man, simple guitar strumming at the start is a handy reminder that this band can go mellow too. Overall though, I'm still astounded they were seldom tapped for movie soundtrack tie-ins. So many of these songs would play great over rolling credits of many a '90s action-thriller.

As for the bonus material in this expanded re-issue, it has the usual assortment of b-sides and rarities included. The remixes naturally grab my attention though, what with the aforementioned Reznor rub on Missing Link, and The Drum Club having a go with Half The Time. Plus, an outfit known as The Future Sound Of London do a rote acid-house thingy on the obscure song Rising. They probably won't amount to anything off of that.