Various - Back To Mine: The Orb

DMC: 2003

Sure is a nice coincidence that the alphabetical order of my Back To Mine CDs is also in chronological order.

Folks who came around to the series later in its run may have noticed something different about the first couple I've covered. Indeed, when DMC launched Back To Mine, the cover art wasn't too distinctive from many other DJ-featuring compilations out there. Sure, Warren and Seaman were lounging in comfy chairs, while Tenaglia and Armada had cute little lights, but it still felt run-of-the-mill where chill-out CDs were concerned.

Following Faithless' entry, however, DMC commissioned illustrator Tommy Penton to shake things up, giving Back To Mine its distinct, abstract comic look for many years after; I hated that look. Yeah, it was unique, which undoubtedly helped it stand out from overcrowded compilation racks, but gads, the artwork reminds me of bad lucid dreams, not at all feelings of being chill. Whatever happened to the soft, inviting mood lighting?

So I wasn't too keen on picking up more Back To Mines with the art change. Compounding things further was the fact Ultra Records lost the domestic distribution rights after the seventh (Morcheeba's, for the record), leaving DMC to handle it themselves. They... weren't very efficient at it, leading to few copies, if any, found on my local store shelves. And whenever one did happen by at those slightly inflated prices, always was I met with that butt-ugly cover art. You understand why I let the series pass me by, then.

Still, when I heard The Orb had been tapped to head up a Back To Mine, I knew I had to get my hands on that! The O.G. chill-out maestros, who's early sets were well known for unearthing all sorts of weird, blissy records of yesteryear, compiling a CD that's right up their lane? How could this fail? It could not, is how! No, Muzik Magazine and their middling 2/5 score had to be wrong. It... had to be good...!

Back To Mine was primarily billed as showing off one's personal collections, and you'd think chaps like Dr. Alex Paterson and Thomas Fehlmann would have ludicrously deep crates to pull music from. And maybe compared to typical punters of the U.K., that's true, but I was stunned that I already had so many of these tracks in my own collection. Two Aphex Twin cuts, yep. Julee Cruise's go with Falling (aka: the Twin Peaks theme), uh huh. And why on Earth is Juno Reactor's Nitrogen Part 1 on here, and at the third position no less? Okay, Alex helped produce that, but no way does it fit as a 'chill-out' option.

The remaining selections are definitely an eclectic sort of stoner chill and indie-techno, but lacks much of a unifying theme to them. It's as though The Orb rounded up a pile of tracks they happened to like that given month, arranged them in alphabetical order, and called it a day. Who'd want to listen to something like that?

Various - Back To Mine: Faithless

DMC/Ultra Records: 2000/2001

Tapping superstar DJs to helm a new compilation mix series is all well and good, but how many superstar chill-out DJs were there, really? The dudes from The Orb, Mixmaster Morris, and a couple others, probably. No, the truly famed acts within this scene remain the producers, and DMC was quick in steering their fresh Back To Mine outings towards the names responsible for creating the tracks heard all over downtempo discs and U.K. mall radios. Groove Armada was the first (because of course), followed by the somewhat surprising choice of Faithless. Yeah, the group was one of the biggest commercial successes at the time, and certainly their album material had plenty of laid-back tunes, but they were primarily known for their mega club anthems. Not exactly on the tips of everyone's earlobes when wanting to wind down, is what I'm getting at.

Still, Back To Mine wasn't intended for the typical punter demographic, and for folks who may have preferred Faithless songs like Flowerstand Man and Hour Of Need over God Is A DJ (*cough*), this would be right up their ally. For Rollo and Sister Bliss, who curated this collection of post-clubbing cuts, felt it a great chance to show off the dusty soul records in their libraries. Aaron Neville is here! Pauline Taylor is here! Tindersticks is here! Mazzy Star is here! Dido is here! Wait, Dido is soul? Well, Brit-soul, but yeah, of course Rollo's sister would be here. She even opens the whole set, though I cannot deny her soft, lonesome croon does create the perfect mood for where Faithless takes us after.

Right into Dusted's Childhood, and mang', let me tell you, this track alone sold me on the album that came out shortly after, enough to at least give it a curious listen. It's like, Faithless, but also not! And then I discovered it kinda' was! Oh, and don't worry, folks. Aside from using Sunday 8PM (from the album of the same name) as a transitional track later on, Rollo and Bliss are done with the self-promotion.

Elsewhere, the duo work in some deep house vibes (Marshall Jefferson's Mushrooms), some garage vibes (Adamski's Never Goin' Down), some funk vibes (Alex Gopher's The Child), and Balearic vibes (Bent's I Love My Man). Really, about the only tune that feels starkly out of place is Paperclip People's Throw, the Carl Craig tech-house jam rather abrasive and too darn long compared to everything else on here. Sure can't play that on the work radio, darn it all. But hey, what's a 'personal record showcase' without a cheeky tune or two? Speaking of, having a crusty, reggae-dub cover of Billie Jean as your capper is a most delectable bit of cheek indeed.

Clearly, I adore Faithless' contribution to Back To Mine, and find it one of the finest CDs of downtime music in my library. I eagerly awaited the next volume but unfortunately, things would go a little screwy with the series on my side of the pond.

Various - Back To Mine: Danny Tenaglia

DMC/Ultra Records: 1999/2000

The concept of the chill-out compilation had never been more fashionable as the last century drew to a close, but something was missing from it truly taking off to the next level. It was all well and good for labels to curate a clutch of tracks for after hours, but who were these label heads, really? Just some anonymous office folks, right? Well, no, not always, but when the major prints started getting their fingers into the clubbing culture pot, you couldn't help but glance at the proliferation of faceless DJ mixes sideways. Say what you will about Global Underground over-hyping their jocks, they at least gave the impression you were getting a particular individual's take on what they enjoyed out of dance music.

So the thinking went with Back To Mine, a chance to put some superstar DJ power behind a fresh new chill-out brand. And sure, give these popular club jocks a chance to share some of the overlooked gems deep in their crates, the tunes they'd never get to rinse in a regular outing. Well, not unless Sasha & Digweed's original concept for Northern Exposure hadn't been so quickly abandoned.

The first couple entries in this new series featured Nick Warren and Dave Seaman. No, Back To Mine wasn't financed by Global Underground, why do you ask? It wasn't long before these CDs were getting domestic releases in my half of the globe, so when I spotted the third volume helmed by Danny Tenaglia, I snatched that up post-haste. Finally, a DJ mix I could show off to my peers wherein all that downtempo stuff I'd buy is now officially proper-cool!

Kinda' hard to pull that off when your opening track is from The Gentle People though. For sure, I like it, and Danny makes a very compelling case for why he likes it in the liner notes. And besides, isn't Back To Mine all about showing off the tunes you like in favour of what's deemed cool or not? Absolutely! Still, unless you're completely in on the fondue, The Gentle People are a hard sell no matter the context. At least Mr. Tenaglia gives us his own jazzy, deep groover Loft In Paradise a couple tracks after.

Yeah, for a supposed 'chill-out' collection, Danny's Back To Mine is rather upbeat overall. Nothing relaxing about Bang The Party's Bang Bang You're Mine, while Ce Ce Peniston's Keep On Walkin' is a right peppy little number, as Ce Ce's tunes typically were. Elsewhere, Crescendo's Cairo takes the CD down a surprising, dusty world-beat road, but given the number of Latin and gospel influences in this set, why not some Arabian sounds too?

Despite not really keeping with the after-hours theme, Tenaglia's Back To Mine remains a nifty collection of tunes he'd likely never have a chance of rinsing out in the usual clubbing environments. Does make me wonder though, if he ever sneaked a couple in during Hour Seventeen of one of those twenty-hour marathon sets.

ACE TRACKS: November 2019

Y'all may have noticed yet another missing week of content here this past month. Whatever excuse will I come up with this time? A surprise trip to the interior of my province? Computer crashing out? Mental faculties crashing out? All my spare time binge watching Neebs Gaming? None of the above, says I, for an entirely new project consumed my thoughts and efforts in that period: making the most challenging 'mixtape' I've ever crafted!

For obvious reasons, I don't get into what my Real World work is, but suffice to say, it's a national chain of commerce, and involves a lot of costumer service. Naturally, such a chain has its own satellite feed to provide in-store music, which can include Golden Oldies all the way up to modern pop hits. Store managers can 'select' how much of what type of music is played, but we're generally beholden to corporate's playlists. And though I've gotten my own small store this past summer to run as I see fit, I didn't tinker with the old feed, letting it sit in the background as the white noise its intended.

That all changed when the Christmas Music started.

Look, I get it why it's done, but c'mon! Not that early (right after Remembrance Day), and not that much (one in every five songs!). No, I wasn't having it. So, I worked out exactly how our speaker feeds were wired, and with a little pluck and ingenuity, found out how I could play an MP3 player of my own music on it. Oh, sweet! All the awesome electronic music in my library, now with an audience of... mostly older folks. Ah, hmm, maybe this wouldn't be so easy as I thought.

I quickly realized around 65-70% of the music I have is completely unplayable in a customer service setting of this nature. To be honest though, I think a hefty chunk of modern pop music also is completely unplayable for how obnoxious it gets, but that's another rant. No, I decided I would be respectful of our aged clientele, and I fortunately have plenty of old-timey music that's perfectly fine for speaker play. The Oak Ridge Boys! The Beach Boys! CCR! The Tragically Hip! The Beatles! The Police! '80s pop hits! Plus all that jazz music and surf rock I've gathered, both new and old, is inoffensive enough in such a setting. Heck, maybe even class the place up a little. And sure, a little Christmas music too, but sparingly, and only from sources I want to hear (The Oak Ridge Boys! The Beach Boys! Boney M! Vince Guaraldi Trio! Bing Crosby!)

Then I dug a little deeper into my library for the music that I completely neglect for how milquetoast it sounds. That's right Kon Kan and Tony Anderson Sound Orchestra, you're time to shine is nigh! And I can't forget you, Time Life Magazine compilations. Forget you though, Euphoria, and your call-waiting muzak jingles. Still, with enough 'acceptable' music on rotation, I can sneak in some material just a bit off the normal road, like overlooked Italo disco hits (radio edits only tho'), deep house, Solar Fields, Tiga, and Papua New Guinea.

It took some trial and error to prune it down to the point where I wasn't totally self-conscious about every single song that'd come on the speakers. I quickly realized putting in Utada Hikaru as a contemporary R&B option wasn't such a hot idea after all. Never mass export a 'chill-out' compilation until you've double-checked the contents of them! And though it pained me to admit it, there simply wasn't a single Banco de Gaia track that could make the cut. Still, 84 hours of music is plenty 'nuff, especially considering the regular store feed is about a quarter that length before looping.

I've had this custom playlist running for two weeks now, and have only had two 'complaints' about it. One was from Royksopp's Eple, which an old lady said sounded like being in a madhouse. Uh, oops, out you go then. The other was when one of the spare Christmas songs came on, and a customer did the November-standard gripe “Ugh, Christmas music already?” I feel ya', sister.

Meanwhile, here's the ACE TRACKS that came about from what I reviewed this past November. Some of them even made it onto the Work Playlist!


Full track list here.


MISSING ALBUMS:
Autumn Of Communion - Autumn Of Communion
Cosmic Replicant - Archive Of Signals
Wurrm - Apotropaic
Alien Community - Alien Community 2
Cosmic Replicant - After A Long Rain

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 0%
Percentage Of Rock: 15%
Most “WTF?” Track: Probably still anything from The Oak Ridge Boys, and how it relates to anything on this blog.

A smoother playlist than I anticipated, though it probably helps that most of the noodly ambient stuff is sequestered into Local Files. And hey, dark ambient's back! Just in time for the cold, black season too. Don't worry though, them B-52's and Bent are sure to put a smile on your face just the same.

The Oak Ridge Boys - Back Home Again: Gospel Favorites

Gaither Music Group: 2012

There's been ripples in the timestream, by g'ar, of the word 'gospel' suddenly trending upon the prominent waves of tachyon particles even in my far future corner of the Fourth Dimension. Even from my vantage point in the year 2073, we feel it, as though something detonated in the past, causing an ever-lasting effect upon our culture, wherein 'gospel' was no longer regarded as a niche enjoyment by those of us within the comforting embrace of the Atomic Brotherhood. For some oddity, however, those residing within the domain of the Muricans haven't noticed it, or are actively ignoring it in all forms of denialism. Word goes should you inquiry them about this time-flux event, they enter a near catatonic state, uttering “Not my Ye'. Not my Ye'. Not my Ye'” Strange indeed.

Ani-hooteny, seems as fine-dandy an opportunity to bull my wax about The Oak Ridge Boys again, specifically their gospel output. Everything else'in that I've touched upon with those recordings came from their ancient catalogue, before the lads switched their sound to some fun stompin' country shindiggin's. Even after they turned international stars with half the roster changed, CD labels would recycle them original songs with original members for quick cash-ins. Th'ar be Joe Bonsall and his moustache on the cover, but sure-in that's Little Willie Wynn singing the soprano inside. After a time though, and their commercial clout receding like everyone's hairline after 2053, the Boys left the days of secular country jingles behind, singing some proper ol' good Christian music again. After another time, they'd flit between the two, even meshing 'em altogether-like.

That's about where we find the Boys with Back Home Again: Gospel Favorites. These aren't the staid-old ditties of olden-times, but up 'an jumpin' fun-time country jiggy-downs with Christian themes. For sure-in we all know the tale of Exodus, but have you heard it as a three-minute, spring-steppin hoe-humdinger as performed here in Led Out Of Bondage? I reckon not, if you've never heard Christian country before.

Mighty strangely though, I can't help but long for the older, pure gospel sorties The Oak Ridge Boys performed over these then-modern produced songs. There, the vocal harmonies were dominant, with the barest of organ, piano, or guitar in support. You could feel the humbling power of reverberating church halls in their voices, especially when given the best remastering process technology could afford (earnestly, the quality of Hymns & Songs, Volume II remains unmatched).

These recordings are almost too slick for their own good, with supporting musicians all up in your ears. Not to take away from the skills of Ben Isaacs (upright bass), Gordon Mote (piano), John Jarvis (piano), Steve Brewster (drums), Aubrey Haynie (fiddle & mandolin), Bryan Sutton (acoustic guitar), Kenny Greenberg (electric guitar), Kevin Williams (acoustic guitar), Jimmy Capps (acoustic guitar), and Ban-Joey (banjo), but the infamous Nashville Machine does have a tendency to strip the soul out of music. Mighty highly ironic, given the context of the music that's being performed.

Perturbator - B-Sides And Remixes, Vol. II

Blood Music: 2018

James Kent has been rather quiet on the production front these last few years. His last full-length record was The Uncanny Valley, released way back in 2016 (holy cow, does that year ever feel for so long ago now). The following year, it looked like he may have started taking his music in a different direction with the New Model EP, but nothing come from the Perturbator project since. For a chap who was releasing material at a blistering clip for half a decade, that's quite the drop-off in output, though I'm sure there's some reasonable reasons for it.

Like, that whole touring thing. Synthwave artists aren't exactly known as a globe-trotting lot, often dorky studio shut-ins cranking out some jams with softsynths. Heck, even using the word 'studio' is a stretch for many, a laptop about all one needs for some run-of-the-mill '80s nostalgia throwback tracks. Why yes, that under-produced quality is part of my vision, just like it sounded in that decade! Perturbator, however, had become such a star within that scene that he could actually take his music on the road and perform it live, even in my little corner of the planet. No way was I gonna' pass up a chance to see an actual synthwave producer perform, and while I was a tad disappointed the show didn't have a bunch of cool, retro videos playing out all the crazy concepts of his albums, the 1.21 gigawatts of lighting rig more than made up for visual splendour. Also, he brought a live drummer.

Anyhow, touring across the Earth (and beyond!(?)) leaves little time for studio work, so it's fine that there's been a larger than normal gap between albums from Mr. Kent. Still, that void needs filling, lest the fanbase grow testy and distracted by whatever new hotness emerges in the meantime. With the amount of material Perturbator had built up over the years, a 'best of' wouldn't be a bad idea, but James opted for that other stopgap choice, the 'miscellaneous' collection. We're talking b-sides, remixes, compilation-only tracks, and those few items that never saw any official release prior. And apparently, there was so much of this material in the Perturbator archives that it required two volumes! Yeah, that'll tide them folks over.

For some reason though, I only got myself Vol. II of this double release. I can only assume because I could only afford one at the time, and this cover looked the cooler of the two – can never get enough of that Night Riding Avenger motif. Blood Music's having another blowout sale though, so maybe I'll spring for Vol. I too.

Anyhow, this is about what you'd expect from and odds 'n' sods collection of Perturbator tracks. There's more darksynth cuts, a few theme remixes (yep, that's Halloween if I ever heard it), some space synth collaborations with Starforce, and one experimental static track that must have been included just for a larf. 'Bonus' indeed.

The B-52's - The B-52's

Warner Bros. Records: 1979

I never thought I'd get a The B-52's album. Like so many folks out there (so very many), my first contact with them was via their omnipresent late '80s hit Love Shack. And like everyone else, I loved the song, until I heard it too many times to the point I didn't really want to hear it again. I also recall Kate Pierson's guest spot on REM's Shiny Happy People as being the first time I realized there was such a thing as artist guest spots (“gosh, that lady singing in the chorus sure sounds like the lady singing in Love Shack!”). Following that, there was The Flintstones Theme, which forever marked the band to me as just some cheese-ball, cartoony throwback group. Which, well, was kinda' true, but Cynical Teenager Sykonee thought that a Bad Thing.

Fast forward many years (over a decade?), and I hear Rock Lobster on a classic rock station. And I thinks to myself, I thinks to myself I do, “Wait, is this the same group as who did Love Shack and Flintstones? How can that be, this tune's awesome!” Not that I rushed out to nab more of their music or anything, but it definitely forced a much-needed reassessment of their work, such that when Spotify Discovery discovered me another of their older tunes, I decided it was finally time to do the deed and dig into The B-52's discography proper-like.

While I know pretty nearly anyone reading this blog should know who The B-52's are, they may not know much about them prior to Love Shack (erm, like me, once). They started much earlier than that, forming in the late '70s, getting lumped in with that new wave of rock bands taking the music down roads yet adventured. Only, the five-piece didn't. Rather, they set their sights on rock music from its earliest days, after the rockabilly era, but prior to the Mersey beat era. Yes, I'm talkin' up that most wonderful vintage rock era of them all, the surf rock era!

I get why that style of guitar action had fallen by the wayside, a genre of music commonly associated with thoughts of preppy white kids getting into safe, society-acceptable hi-jinks. Just wasn't as sexy as the gritty greasers from which punk rock was getting its aesthetic from. Irony was on the cusp of musical birth though, and while they were quite sincere in their cribbing from white-crust Middle-Americana, one couldn't help but take The B-52's antics just a tad tongue-in-cheek.

Still, such sincerity makes their self-titled debut album the fun romp that it is. Not only did it trigger plenty of nostalgic endorphins for the Boomer sect, but posed the question of what such music would sound like if it took things an extra level. Rock Lobster was such a hit not just for its cartoony charm, but because it just keeps going! Imagine a Hanna-Barbara cartoon featuring Frankie Avalon on all the amphetamines. Oh, and the rest of the album's pretty cool too.

Autumn Of Communion - Autumn Of Communion

Fax +49-69/450464: 2012

I mentioned a few reviews back that I lucked out on a Discoggian source that had a mountain of Fax+ material, and this was what led me to it. Yes, in my never-ending hope that an affordable copy of Autumn Of Communion's debut album would eventually appear there, it finally happened! And not only that, but the seller had more, oh so much more! Was so tempted to crack open an RRSP for a ridiculous splurge, believe you me. What I got will suffice for now though. No need to be greedy with all these limited-run items, is there?

Of course, another reason I'm thankful/dumbfounded for the luck in finding this is that it assuages that lingering FOMO feeling in skipping out on the Autumn Of Communion box-set. I felt it a tad redundant picking that up when I already had some of the albums first-run, but who knew if any of their older works would make it to hard-copy at reasonable prices again, especially this. Not only is it the debut album from this long-lasting partnership between Lee Norris and Mick Chillage, but it's the final item released from Fax +49-69/450464, before Pete Namlook's passing forced the label to shutter doors. You'd think this would make Autumn Of Communion one of the biggest collector's items on the second-hand marketplace. Then again, the Fax+ community never was that big compared to some of the other cult-like followers of famous record labels. And it's not like they're gaining new members anymore. It's all about that Carpe Sonum hit nowadays.

Anyhow, what's most important is that I finally get to hear the germination of this surprisingly durable pairing between Misters Norris and Gainford, one I have to wonder if even they thought would go this long. Like, I'm sure they felt some synergy from whatever situation brought them together (crossing paths at a show? Sharing war stories of former labels? Chance paired seating on a flight across the the Atlantic Ocean?), but even they couldn't have thought they'd be over twenty albums deep from these humble beginnings. Because these are some humble beginnings indeed.

Honestly, this could have gone one of two ways: an immaculate debut that could never have been replicated again, or a feeling-out process, with later works bringing their collaborative ideas to better fruition. Given the amount of music that has emerged under the Autumn Of Communion banner since, it's safe to say we're in the latter territory with this album. Even for Lee and Mick, this is one super mellow CD, with long, gentle passages of subdued synths and repeating melodies. Aside from End (Sunrise For Claudio), there's barely any rhythm, and what does come about is the most minimalist of minute beatcraft.

For sure there are some gorgeous moments on Autumn Of Communion, including the titular track, but I doubt I'd say anything shocking in pointing to the duo's future works as even better than what's offered here. Still, absolutely worth the monies I paid for it!

Bent - Ariels

Open: 2004

Definitely not the first Bent album you're supposed to get, if you're just figuring out whether you'll like their music or not. This isn't the first for yours truly, as I got it with Programmed To Love, the one I'm pretty sure is the one you're supposed to have, even if you're not a fan of Bent. I figured though, if I'm getting one Bent album, I might as well get another, and this one, it was nice and affordable on the Amazons for an artist mini-splurge. Would I have been better served doing a little research into this before purchasing so comparatively blind? Absolutely, but that's no fun, no fun at all. Music hunting need not be dull, dutiful collecting when one can feel the thrill of exploring uncharted sonic domains. What would you rather do in your survival MMO, stay at a base and horde resources, or see what's beyond that next hilltop? Sorry, marathoning twenty-two hours of Neebs Gaming's 7 Days To Die series has wormed its way into my metaphors.

Let's be real though. The whole reason I'm finally giving Bent a proper go is because I've long enjoyed the scattered classics of their early catalogue (Spotify Discovery reminding me of them hasn't hurt), and hope to hear more of that. How was I to know that just three years from their debut and three albums deep, Misters Tolliday and Mills would feel the itch to move on from that and do something different, evolved from their sample-heavy songcraft? Like, kudos and all for doing so, but it sure threw me for a loop hearing Ariels before any other of Bent's long players.

So this is the album the Bent boys decided to get a whole bunch of real instruments and non-sampled singers into the studio to craft their own brand of contemporary easy-listening music. You got cellos, flutes, harps, glockenspiels, violins, violas, brass, bass, and double-bass. Ooh, some pedal steel guitar action too, in On The Lake. Such a dreamy sounding instrument, fitting for a dreamy sounding song, almost treading into New Age territory, or what The Gentle People would have sounded like if they'd played their music more straight.

Anyhow, Ariels is as pure a dream-pop album you can probably find for the Cafe del Mar set, which has always been Bent's charm. In utilizing mostly real instruments over samples though, it comes off rather detached from the post-clubbing scene, music actually intended for Nuclear Family moms rather than their burnt-out grandkids. There's still some groove to be found, while the huskier voice of Kosheens' Sian Evans lends tracks like I Can't Believe It's Over more to trip-hop's domain. Still, I cannot deny this album tends to phase through me like so much light-weight, fluffy muzak-pop. Feels like in their attempt to be as authentic to the easy listening music of yesteryear, Bent hit it a little too on the nose in the process. It does make for a nice counter to the winter doldrums though.

Cosmic Replicant - Archive Of Signals

self release: 2018

Uh oh, another Cosmic Replicant album already? Does this mean that Bandcamp bundle I bought is gonna' be stupidly front-loaded in the next round of reviews? Heh, no, 'tis but a coincidence of alphabetical sorting. It shall be a long while before I return to this label, but- whoa, wait, I already did this bit, didn't I? Let's start over.

A pure ambient album with dense, dubby touches? Sure, why not. Pavel's done nearly everything else with his Cosmic Replicant project that the psy scene can offer, so it's only natural he'd stretch out into this field. Plenty of his full-lengths have a dronescape track or three, so it's not unexplored territory either. And if other Altar Records alum can release such records (AstroPilot; Chronos; others, probably), so can this one. Perhaps a bit of a shame he had to do it independently, but then Mr. Shirsin hasn't been part of the Altar family for nearly a half-decade now- oh, wait, he did release an ambient EP with them just this year. Man, it's hard keeping tabs on a discography when-

Ah, dang it, I've done this bit too, haven't I? Seriously though, what are the odds I'd have two Cosmic Replicant ambient albums so close in my queue like this? Remember when Pavel did prog-psy, man?

Still, there's a reason for this bit of meta malarky on my part, in that if I were to do a proper review of Archive Of Signals, I'd only be repeating myself from After A Long Rain. In fact, I'd say there's less to detail here, in that this is a pure-pure ambient album, in the 'music as abstraction' concept. At least After A Long Rain had a theme behind it. This album features seven self-titled Parts, firmly planting it in the domain of 'music for its own sake'. And hey, that's totally fine, a hefty chunk of the ambient churned out yearly having faith in the listener to come to their own thematic conclusions. Or sometimes just in need of that proper wallpaper sound, that you don't really pay attention too.

Though if that was Pavel's intent, he missed the mark on that too. Each Part comes in quite distinct from one another, hardly the sort of pure drone songcraft you'd expect of an album like this. Really, some of these pieces feel like compositions that simply never made the cut on After The Long Rain, what with ample use of rain fall and static drone that sounds like rain fall (why not both?). Others are more on that dubby dronescape stylee, while some and gentle and blissy. Again, all top grade stuff from Cosmic Replicant, and different enough from his last pure ambient album that you don't get a sense of actual deja-vu listening to both. Just, y'know, little else for me to say about it so close together. Man, imagine if all I reviewed was ambient. Would have run out of words years ago!