ACE TRACKS: September 2019

And this month started out so well too.

Like, I'm feeling a good clip. The words are coming to my head just fine, I'm articulating my points as cleverly as I ever have, no screen is left blank for more than a second before I start committing letters to fingers to keyboard. And yet, it all suddenly went crashing down on me, like a total and complete mental failure that needed not just a reboot or defrag, but a hard drive replacement too (or however this metaphor goes). I've had 'issues' before, sure, but this took me quite by surprise in just how swift and absolute it did me in.

Naturally there are a number of things that contributed to this, much of which needn't nor should be brought up here. One thing that really stands out to me though, in how it should have been a warning sign something wasn't quite right with the ol' brain chemistry, is when I discovered I'd lost two CDs of mine. And I only noticed they were missing because they were supposed to be part of this current run of reviews: Autumn Of Communion's Reservoir Of Video Souls and Biosphere's Shenzhou.

It strangely and scarily unnerved me just how much losing these two CDs (one of which comes in a DVD-sized package, no less) affected me. It felt like I'd lost control over something I knew, with absolute certainty, I had total control over: the state of my music collection. And if not this, what else was I losing control over? It started a very vicious, hyper-critical mental cycle that took some time getting out of, especially when you know 'taking time for yourself' is only putting you behind the schedule you demand of yourself. I know, logically, I have very little to worry about, so why does everything feel like crap?

So it goes when the sun starts retreating further and further onto the southern horizon. Meanwhile, here's the ACE TRACKS that did make it into the month of September:


Full track list here.


MISSING ALBUMS:
Ylid - Transcend!
Le Moors - Tendrils
Crystal Moon - Temple
Various - A Taste Of Kandi Summer 2007

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 0%
Percentage Of Rock: 7%
Most “WTF?” Track: One of the Ezdanitoff tracks, if for nothing else than seeing the cover art.

Fun fact: usually when I'm compiling these playlists, it's in one fell swoop, going in reverse from newest to oldest reviews. While making this one, I noticed how I wasn't skipping any due to a lack of Spotify presence. As I inched closer to the end, I wondered, could this be it? Could this, finally, be the ACE TRACKS playlist that doesn't have a single missing album? Like, there's certainly a smaller selection than most months, so it could happen, right?

Then came the obscure ambient/experimental stuff. Yes, even more obscure than Ezdanitoff, somehow. Strange how so many older Hed Kandi releases never made their way to Spotify though. Yeah, the licensing of those old comps would be a bitch to go through nowadays, but surely the mighty Ministry Of Sound has enough scene clout to pull it off?

Ezdanitoff - We Bring Light

Silentes Minimal Editions: 2011

This was included in Databloem's 'mystery bundle', and did it ever cement my suspicion the offer was little more than a dumping ground of dead stock. No fault of the contents within, mind you, but cover art such as this hardly inspires impulse buys. Maybe if the photo was washed-out, adding aged grit and grime, you might convince a passer-by of it being some Boards Of Canada knock-off. As it stands though, your first impression is either an utterly twee electro-pop outing, or an incomprehensible experimental collection, using charming family photos as an ironic contrast to the anti-sounds you're about to experience.

If you're at all familiar with the players involved with this one-off project, you'd know it to be the latter case. One half is Wouter Jaspers, who hasn't done much beyond collaborations here and there, his work with Steffan de Turck as Preliminary Saturation probably the most fruitful of his pairings. The other half of Ezdanitoff, however, is Frans de Waard, who's been making experimental music as Kapotte Muziek since, gosh, the '80s? A very long time, to say the least, with around a dozen more aliases and group projects to his name. Not to mention running a handful of labels such as Bake Records, Korm Plastics, and ...Plinkity Plonk Records? Haha, and that was established in the late '90s too? Not that I'm saying he could have predicted such a term becoming synonymous with the worst of minimal-tech, but leave it to an experimental outfit coining it well before the curve.

We Bring Light first emerged on Waard's My Own Little Label print as a mini-album, but was expanded to a full-length LP with three additional tracks a year later. Some of them are welcome additions, others... well, it is an experimental album, featuring a pair of chaps quite enamoured with field recordings and transistor tweets.

Opener Gentle Men starts innocuously enough, with gentle bleepy noises, rushed footsteps, and children playing, but man, do those harsh 'melodies' ever grate at the end. The titular follow-up features what sounds like someone sucking and blowing through a straw into a glass or bowl of... I want to say water, but really, it could be any sort of liquid. Maybe I don't want to know.

I was almost ready to write this album off when third track First Circle offers an actual, true-blue warbly melody that almost brings to mind the 'hauntology' vibes you might have expected from the cover art. The rest of the album kinda' flits between abstract sound experiments and twitchy-analogue melodies, which at least maintains the weirdo atmosphere of the whole thing. Then, in the final five seconds, you hear the beeping of an alarm clock, shaking you out of whatever bizarre, lucid dreamstate you've endured for the past little while, leaving you wondering if you even experienced it at all. Can't deny it's an effective way of wrapping We Bring Light up, almost making it worth your while to listen to the album in full. Almost.

Hot Chip - The Warning

EMI: 2006

I can't look at this album and not think of a totally different release called The Warning. This particular Warning is a classic tech-step cut from Grooverider, operating under his Codename John alias, released on Metalheadz at the peak of tech-step's dominance. With its spacious sonics, flanged-out surf sounds, low-riding rhythms, and bass reverberating from the depths of oceanic halls, it's a perfect mood setter for a session of prop'ah underground t'ings. Oh, and a repeated vocal of “This is... the warning”, forever lodging itself inside your brain, such that you can't see any other iteration of “the warning” without having that voice saying it for you.

Not that Hot Chip could have known this when they named their sophomore album The Warning (are any of them closet junglists?). Like, the titular song opens with twinkly bells and twee electro-pop rhythms, about as far removed from the rugged 'n' ruff jungle scene as one can ever get. To say nothing of Alexis Taylor's gentle croon at total odds with an ominous sampled voice. Still, there's something to be said for the unnerving way they calmly sing the chorus here: “Hot Chip will break your legs; Snap off your head.” And you know they will too!

Anyhow, I've been meaning to get back into Hot Chip, as the occasional replay of Made In The Dark leaves me yearning to hear more of the group's electro-pop disco-punk palette. I just can't bring myself to revisit One Life Stand though, for reasons I needn't bring up here (damn you, 2010). If I can't go forward, then I must go backward, to the record that truly broke the five-piece out from indie obscurity into... well, indie stardom at least. Despite the DFA association, it'd still be a little longer before dance music followers truly caught onto them (*cough*).

So The Warning, the album that basically cemented what we'd expect to hear out of Hot Chip forever after. The record that fuses so many idiosyncratic musical genres into a charming electro-soup. The LP that let every indie rag flex their name-dropping ability of all the various other bands Hot Chip reminded them of. I kinda' want to avoid doing that, but I honestly understand why they initially did. Very few sounded like what Hot Chip were doing, including Hot Chip themselves. By now though, their style is so distinct, I can easily say, “Yeah, it's a Hot Chip album, from back in the day,” and y'all know exactly what that sounds like. Makes for a poor review on my part though, doesn't it.

I think the trouble I'm having with The Warning is it hasn't quite sunk into me yet, lacking the immediacy Made In The Dark had. This is for the better though, as I'm quite certain I'll get more out of this record the more I return to it. And I will return to it indeed. Just, um, after some other music I need to hear is dealt with first.

SadGirl - Vol. 3 - Head To The Mountains

self release: 2016

You gotta' hand it to Bandcamp newsletters: they are committed to deep dives within the website's archives, unearthing potential up-and-comers so you don't have to. I can't imagine the soul-sucking experience it must be, sifting through so many amateur musicians, some of which have clearly just cracked open their first freeware producing studio and uploaded their first sessions onto the website in the hopes of a few takes. Not that Bandcamp is anywhere near as bad as Soundcloud in this regard – I'd like to think Bandcamp is where artists release the material they at least believe has some potential of actual money being earned from it – but how many mediocre items must the newsletter writers go through before stumbling upon something worth consideration of a spotlight? Why, it's just like the street 'zines of old!

For sure I'd never have had SadGirl brought to my attention without one such Bandcamp newsletter. Indie rock with influences of archaic surf rock is so far outside my usual wheelhouse, I wouldn't have any clue where to start looking for a fix, much less the commitment to do the necessary digging. If a Bandcamp newsletter promoting surf rockers on their website claims this is a band worth checking out though, then by g'ar I'll check 'em out. Or a tidy little EP on the cheap at least.

And had I first heard the opening song Going Down without that recommendation, I probably would have skipped on by. There's nothing wrong with it, of course, indie rock that's enamoured with the scraggly aesthetics of '60s garage rock and all the punky attributes that'd be adopted in later decades. There's even some nifty echo and reverb on those guitar tones, though nothing that gives me those 'surf' feels, y'know? What's always drawn me to this genre is the open vista it creates with its sonics, and Going Down feels like its still sprung from the tiny rock halls SadGirl cut their mustard in. But hey, they're at least Californian, so some ties to the surf and all.

Nothing sells the punk vibe more than a one-minute ten follow-up in Drowning though, and Someone Else's Skin is a right noisy little number too. I like it fine, I guess, and there's some cool, wavy, echoing solo action, but still not really what I was expecting out of a surf rock newsletter recommendation. Fortunately, we have The Hand That Did The Deed, one of those jangly instrumental ditties that's as much spaghetti Western rock as it is surf rock – the two were synonymous back in the day anyway. Up to this day too, come to think of it. Desperado rock. That's the name it should be called. Someone should make a guide to classic rock to make the name authoritative.

So this EP wasn't what I expected or hoped for, not really convincing me SadGirl was actually a contemporary surf rock band. And yet, I still went and ordered their debut album, Water. Go figure.

SiJ - Vale Of Forgotten Sounds

Ancient Language Records/Reverse Alignment: 2013/2015

Why raid a label for just one SiJ album when you can get two? Probably because you've gotten all the remaining hard copies of his albums, digital version the only option left for older ones. And because you've some bizarre hate-boner against ever buying digital when physical versions exist, you skip the other albums, forever denying yourself music you know you'll enjoy irrespective of format its played from. Boy, it sure is a good thing I'm not like that! Such a person sounds a right bellend to be around. (*cough*)

Thus, in my last round of Reverse Alignment purchases, I figured it was as good as any time to round out my my collection of albums SiJ released through the label. Vale Of Forgotten Sounds was the first that did, and among the earliest of the dark ambient print's releases. So small wonder its initial, uncertain fifty copies run sold out, despite not being that far into the past. Nice of Reverse Alignment to up their limited runs to at least triple-digits worth now, thus avoiding selling out all too soon with future releases. You can never be too certain of which artists or albums may turn into must-have dark ambient classics, fetching ungodly mark-ups on the collector's market.

Vale Of Forgotten Sounds may have been SiJ's debut with Reverse Alignment, but the album actually came out a couple years prior, digitally released on Ancient Language Records. Not one to let an album languish solely in the domain of ones and zeroes, Mr. Sikach self-released a CDr option, which included a few more tracks not on the original one. Huh, a CD having more tunes than the digital version. As it should be. Anyhow, that was reason enough, out of all his prior works, for Reverse Alignment to choose this particular album for a proper CD re-issue. And now here I am resorting to the digital version of this re-issue, because the CD all sold out. Something seems askew.

As for what sort of inspiration SiJ was drawing from in creating Vale Of Forgotten Sounds, apparently these pieces were made for the 2014 Ambient Music Festival held in Sevastopol. That would why the first few tracks are of a more calming, relaxing nature for a supposed dark ambient release. Yeah, SiJ has often flitted with the melancholy side of the genre, but tracks like Serenity and Forgotten Skramell are very pleasant pieces of gentle pads and timbre – could easily fit within Databloem's catalogue. Even the more mysterious, melancholy compositions like Hysjer and Springtide don't come off so suffocating as other examples of this style go.

But then Path Through The Swamp comes in with all manner of choking, abrasive field recordings and tones, Le Temps des Cathedrales lays the oppressive tones thick, and you're abruptly reminded that, yeah, this is still a dark ambient release. Still, Vale Of Forgotten Sounds offers a nice variety of the various forms it can take, even the softer variants.

Steve Brand - Upwelling: Emergence

Databloem: 2018

Steve Brand seemed familiar to me, but Discoggian evidence shows that couldn't possibly be the case. Though he's released some forty album's worth of music in the past fifteen years, a high percentage of it has been through his own, independent labels (Relaxed Machinery, Pioneer Light Music). And despite a discography as big as his, he hasn't done much for the compilation market either. Yet I still associate his name with ambient artists of old, which makes sense given his style of ambient is in the ancient, traditional form of the genre. I must have noticed his works on labels like Hypnos and AtmosWorks, where old-schoolers like Vidna Obmana, Robert Rich, and Vir Unis have released material. Oh, Ishq too, whom Steve Brand collaborated with on the double-LP Spiritual Science / The Voice From Home. Huh, sometimes the connections are as simple as that.

Though that pairing happened a decade ago, it helped give him a small in with ...txt, where Brand got to release one of his Near Series CDs on. And as seems to be the case now, when a producer releases something on a Lee Norris print, they get invited over to the Databloem family as well. Or sometimes it's the other way around. Lots of cross-pollination between the two camps, is what I'm saying, more than I ever thought possible. Throw in Aes Dana providing another mixdown for a Databloem joint, and I'm beginning to wonder if I should be on the look-out for some massive, multi-franchise crossover event within the world of ambient and chill music. That isn't a tribute to Pete Namlook.

Upwelling: Emergence is a sequel of sorts, the first Upwelling coming out way back in 2011 as an odd 'n' sods collection of material. So too it goes with this one, various unused items and inspirational flights of fancy of the past decade rounded up into a compilation. A strange method of making a debut on a new label, though not unprecedented. Heck, I think I've reviewed such an item before (Aythar's Dream Of Stars). It's a safe way to test the waters with a broader audience, seeing if one's stylee meshes with their tastes before dropping an LP of new, original content on their ears. As if the ambient collective is some stuffy scene of opinionated gate-keepers.

As I'm not about to dive deeply into Brand's discography right now (so many albums...), all I can tell you regarding this particular release is what I mentioned above. Steve's 'brand' (*slap*) of ambient mostly entails lengthy, overlaying synth drones and gentle field recordings, abstract art music as crafted right from the '80s. It's all very serene and pleasant and calming and-

G'ah! What's with those flutes in The Krater Of Earth? So shrill and piercing following half a CD's worth of soothing tones and timbre. The track settles into a standard pad-drone piece, but geez, hearing those sure was a slap in the face. Knocked me out of my peaceful doze, it did.

Single Gun Theory - Flow, River Of My Soul

Nettwerk: 1994

(a Patreon Request from Omskbird)

There was a small window in the development of my musical tastes where this album would have been brilliant to me. It was right around the point when the sounds of Enya, Enigma and Deep Forest were failing me, but I hadn't yet caught onto whatever 'underground' ethno-pop beats options existed. When I was exploring compilations like Pure Moods and Escapes for new artists to check out. When I came into contact with another Nettwerk album released the same year as this that I thought among the most amazing things I ever heard, Delerium's Semantic Spaces. It was a small window of time, is what I'm saying.

Interestingly, Delerium was also my introduction to Single Gun Theory. Or rather, to Jacqui Hunt of Single Gun Theory, as featured in the lead single to the album Karma, Euphoria (Firefly). And yes, again, that was the lead single, not Silence featuring another Nettwerk artist on vocals (you know who). I didn't know much about Single Gun Theory, only what the Karma-hype blurbs told me, of them being Australian, a staple on Nettwerk since the label's earliest days, and having some musical ties to the Dead Can Dance wave of '80s ethereal synth-pop. I'll take the PR's word for it.

In any event, I'm not surprised the Delerium boys wanted to work with Jacqui Hunt, because boy does she ever carry the musical load in this group. Granted, part of that is thanks to the layers of ethereal effects on her voice. Whenever she's singing about fractured relationships or global issues or metaphysical existence though, you stand up and take notice, more than willing to be swept away in the thick layers of treated vocals. Which is good, as the backing music is only passable at best.

Pete and Kath do everything they can to make these tunes sound rich and dynamic, but the production chops just aren't there. It's clear their global travels heavily inspired them, with all manner of ethnic chants and exotic instruments finding their way into their tunes. And I do give props for them bringing in actual musicians for the showcases of tabla, tambura, cello, and such.

Unfortunately, they don't do much to distinguish their sampling as integral parts of the songs they craft, many of them presented with a big, flashing sign shouting “I'm a sample!” between moments of Jacqui's singing. Geez, it's even noticeable in their rhythms, not even trying to hide how obvious some of their breaks sampling is. It's fine using well-worn beats and all, but do something interesting with them to make them your own, otherwise I'm gonna' think of better examples of their use elsewhere. I could give them a pass on their previous albums, but by 1994, such production was coming off rather dated fast.

Ironically, the best example of the sort of music Single Gun Theory was trying to make here comes care of Delerium's Euphoria (Firefly). Remarkable what a couple years and better producers can accomplish, eh?

Howie B. - Turn The Dark Off

Polydor: 1997

When 'electronica' was the new hotness, I recall seeing Howie B.'s name everywhere, but as I look back on his compilation game, I fail to remember why. Yeah, I got a small jump on him when he appeared on the Waveform Records compilation Frosty (ten minutes of Birth!), and he was repped on the MuchMusic 'electronica' show CD tie-in RU Receiving, but that was the extent of my exposure.

He was featured on a number of trip-hop and big-beat collections at the height of those genres' commercial success, and carried on into the new Millennium to a respectable degree, including contributing to the FabricLive and AnotherLateNight series. I dunno' though, it still feels like I'm missing something, like Mr. Bernstein was at a higher level than even that, almost on par with the likes of The Chemical Brothers and Massive Attack. Give me a second, I need to check the Wiki... *one search result later* OOOoohhh... He helped produced U2's Pop album. Yeah, that'll get your name in the mainstream rock rags, no doubt.

Coming up through the studio ranks, Howie B. was primed to make a prominent mark upon UK clubland by the mid-'90s, finally getting his debut with Music For Babies. That... was a tad too specialized a sound to make much impact, so the follow-up Turn The Dark Off is generally considered his proper debut, with all his major singles. Switch is here! Fizzy In My Mouth is here! Take Your Partner By The Hand is here! Uh... Who's Got The Bacon? is here? Wait, Angels Go Bald, Too was a single as well? I guess it has that spy-caper vibe going for it, and Howie did help with that Tom Cruise staring Mission: Impossible score a little. Can't say it's the Howie B. stylee I was expecting going into this though, so brisk and breakbeaty for a dude more known for the down 'n' dirty side of trip-hop funk.

Turn The Dark Off features a solid assortment of those sounds, essentially where big-beat and trip-hop meet in the grand scheme of things. In fact, I can't help but feel it's a little too solid, too polished for a record seemingly inspired by the gritty underground beats that were churned out by Mo'Wax. I suppose that can't be helped, Mr. Bernstein's experience on the production side of the things smoothing out whatever free-flowing roughness emerges from one's inspiration. It's far from BT-itis, but certainly around Junkie XL's level of studio sleekness.

Whenever he has a chance to solo out some sounds over his hunky-chunky rhythms, the music's all the better for it. The gentle keyboards and weird wobbly wail in Limbo. The raunchy-raw squealing synths in Butt Meat. The spoken-word tale of noir clublife as narrated by Robbie Robertson in Take Your Partner By The Hand. Not to mention the building guitar licks and hip-hop rhythms that aren't too dissimilar to The RZA's beatcraft. Album could have used more tracks like that one.

Morphology - Traveller

FireScope: 2018

My main nitpick/complaint/petty gripe regarding FireScope has long been their lack of LPs. So many EPs, which is fine and all for the vinyl market, but us CD buyers often crave maor musiks than the standard four-to-five tracks singles provide. Thus imagine my giddiness over seeing an actual ten-track item released on the print! Aw yeah, this Traveller album from Morphology will finally give me the LP experience I've long craved from FireScope. Can't wait for that sucker to arrive in the mail, and slip the CD into my main player where- wait, this has two CDs in it? As in, presented as a double-EP? What in the even...?

No no, let's take this as an opportunity. Yes, I will engage with this 'double-CD' album as though it were a vinyl option, where I must get up from my comfortable sitting/laying position to change the disc/record at the designated point. In this manner, I may help bring closer the divide that has long alienated the vinyl and CD buying populaces. 'Tis not a nobler endeavour I embark upon in this task, my friends?

But first, who are Morphology, and what do they bring to the FireScope family? A duo of Finnish electro lovers, Misters Turunen and Diekmann have been making tunes since the start of this decade (or the end of the last decade; whichever you prefer). They released a couple albums on Syntax Motorcity in that time, plus assorted singles on assorted labels generally skewing to the purist Detroit vision of electro and techno, but with beatcraft a little more complex than your traditional, functional robot rhythms. Not the most obvious link to B12's brand of techno, but enough to hop on over I guess.

CD1 features six tracks, including one ambient doodle. Opener Distant Signal (Distant System!? No...) definitely has that spaced-out electro thing going for it, while Second Light and Farthest Regions are quite airy and charming for electro, for the most part fitting the FireScope vibe. Hidden Variable and Detached go more for the proper electro menace Morphology's earlier works steered under.

That's the end of CD1. Time to get up and change discs. Eh, while I'm up, I may as well check on those taters I have in the oven. Ooh, done! And they smell so delish' right now. Mm, think I'll take a moment to scarf a few, check up on some internet... *one half-hour later* ... Oh, dammit, CD2! Almost forgot about it! *mightily struggles to stand on a sated stomach full of toasty potato*

Man, having that unexpected break sure makes coming into the second half of Traveller in interesting experience. Almost feels like I'm taking in a totally different album, and not just because the electro here is even purer than heard on CD1. Yeah, Bipolar Nebula retains some chipper feels, but that makes sense given the track name. Overall, a neat little listening experiment.

Oh, and Traveller is a boss album of spacey electro too.

B12 - Transient Life

De:tuned: 2017

I've talked about B12. I've bought a number of releases from remaining member of B12, Steve Rutter. I've even become enamoured by B12's current label, FireScope. Yet I never seemed to get myself an actual proper B12 release. Clearly a ridiculous oversight on my part, so there's no time like the present(ish) than to finally get me some B12 music. Where do I start though? The seminal contribution to Warp Records' Artificial Intelligence series, Electro-Soma? One of the numerous EPs Rutter's released through FireScope? Nah, guy, how's about a little item put out on De:tuned instead? Wait, De:tuned? Was'is this?

Kind of a proto-FireScope, De:tuned started out as a retro IDM label luring in names from the genre's ancient history for an EP release or two. Though not prolific by any stretch, they did a remarkable job in meeting their manifesto, the well known and the rather obscure all showing up. From B12, Thomas Heckmann, John Beltran, and David Morley to The Kosmik Kommando, Robert Leiner, and Terrace. More recently the label's gone the compilation route, inviting many classic ambient techno aliases in the process, some of which I thought were long since mothballed. Like, holy cow, look at these vintage name-drops! Sun Electric, Jedi Knights, Spacetime Continuum, Higher Intelligence Agency! Damn, De:tuned, you sure know how to lure some veterans in. CDs soon?

B12, now just Steve Rutter, had been releasing a a smattering of singles since dusting the project off again in 2015 (more on that at a later date). I'm guessing he was still uncertain whether he should start his own label yet or not, but this here Transient Life EP was the last of his label wanderings before launching FireScope. If he did it with De:tuned to drum up interest in his new print, I have to assume it did the trick, his label on quite the run as of late.

As with all those FireScope singles, Transient Life features four tracks in the make of that unmistakable bleepy ambient techno vein. This stuff's not quite so mellow and floaty as Mr. Rutter's later works though. Opener Soar And Glide has a real ominous vibe going for it despite the playful bleeps and bloops – like you're exploring some ancient alien architecture. Brownian Motion bins the bleeps altogether, settling for mood and tone enveloping its skitter-skatter IDM beatcraft. Forced Restart is the requisite 'chill' cut, going more electro than techno in doing so, while Symbiotic Form is creepy-weird for much of its runtime, an overbearing, ghostly synth-pad sending the EP out on not the most reassuring of moods. Like, imagine being abandoned on said ancient alien realm, so much mystery surrounding you, and you can't help sensing something lurking withing those relics of civilizations passed.

As cool, nifty, nostalgia-triggering as all this sounds, there's something about Transient Life that holds me back from liking at much as Rutter's more recent works. A tad too unsettling, perhaps? Pft, and I consider myself a dark ambient connoisseur.