Strangest Days: An EMC Update

And I thought February was hectic. Oh sweet child, you hadn't seen anything yet.

For obvious reasons, I don't get into what my Real World work is here. I can say, however, that I am one of those Front Line Essential Service workers you've been hearing all about this past month. Not in any major high-traffic area, mind you; in fact, I feel quite fortunate that my location is out of the way and basically only serves a modest (though affluent!) neighbourhood in the city of Vancouver. Yet even this tucked, out-of-sight place I earn my bones has been swamped with business and inquiries and all manner of anxiety as folks try to figure out how to go about things as though they were still normal. Things aren't normal though. Folks in the Western world are currently living in some of the most abnormal times in almost a century, and as adaptable as the human species is, the change was so rapid and so encompassing, we're still trying to process it. Some think this could be over in a couple more weeks? Frankly, I think we'll be lucky to find ourselves back to some semblance of what once was in a few months. (oh no, my summer vacations)

I also feel fortunate that, for the most part, my city has taken all this remarkably well. Aside from that first weekend of hoard shopping that nearly crippled the entire grocery supply chain anyway. Folks have kind of settled into this now, and have even taken to doing a 7pm city-wide cheer for all those still working at their essential services. The only time there was a city-wide cheer for anything was when Very Important Hockey Games were won. Yet why does this feel so hollow to me?

I get the occasional "thank-you for being open"s at work, but all I'm doing is what I've been doing all along. If anything, I feel like I've been failing at it more because I can't get the things everyone wants with any regularity anymore, though that's hardly my fault. Its the warehouse workers who deserve far more credit than what I'm doing. I dunno, I've always felt weird about people saying "thank you" for me doing a job, like my volunteer work at music festivals. It's just a job to me, one I calculated as being 'essential' in the worst of times, and therefore a sure thing to stick with in the long run. It's not something I figure needs being thanked for doing. Then again, I will give a "thank-you" to the bus drivers whenever I can, because I know it takes at least 20 of those to rub out the sting of just 1 bad interaction with your common man.

All of which has left this blog in rather poor shape, unfortunately. I'm not abandoning it, oh no; my OCD won't let me! However, with All This going on *gestures wildly*, it's understandable I simply don't have the usual time or mental fortitude to do more than a couple reviews a week at this point. And what's ironic about that is folks are saying this will be a boon time for internet content creators, with more people than ever stuck at home with nothing better to do than watch and engage with other people online copping through these strangest of days we are all facing together. Except those like me, the Essential workers, carrying on with bigger loads on their backs. I almost feel envious of the currently unemployed, like I'm missing out on a cultural event what with all these streams and Tik Toks and shared memes of Life In Iso'.

But that's not a very good headspace to be in, is it?

Various - Bedrock: Jimmy Van M

Pioneer: 2001

It was a few years after their releases that I gathered the subsequent entries of the Bedrock series, though not for a lack of interest. Jimmy Van M? Chris Fortier? Holy cow, those are, like, my two favouritist prog DJs that hardly anyone knows about! Absolutely I want to hear new mixes from them, especially with that bullet-proof Bedrock brand behind them, but why can't I find these CDs on the store shelves? Digweed's set was all over the place, so why not these?

Oh, Ultra Records was no longer distributing Bedrock Records material, that's why. Instead, Pioneer picked up the rights, which is bizarre because this label started out as a LaserDisc distributor, and was mostly known for Japanese releases and imports at this stage of its lifespan (so many anime soundtracks ...just so many). Its story grows more convoluted after, but I'm here to review two-decade old prog mixes, not recap tumultuous label histories. Just bizarre that it would pick up Bedrock distribution though.

Anyhow, difficulty in attaining these mixes became a moot point when I took my first dips into the Amazon, and upon firing up that Jimmy Van M mix, it was like heavenly mana falling into my ears, the sort of prog that did me no wrong. Okay, that wasn't my initial impression, as it didn't quite win me over so instantly as his Trance Nation: America outing. But man, once this one clicked after a couple plays, it became my favourite of the Bedrock series (uh, spoiler for Chris Fortier's entry?).

CD 1 is all dark prog. Oooh, that oh-so tasty deep, dubby, chugging sound that had such a brief but glorious run in the early '00s. Moshic is here! Floppy Sounds is here! Creamer & K are here! Bill Hamel is here (with Andy Moor!). Steve Porter is here (with the rub on Trancentral Station's Mothership). And... Minimalistix' Struggle For Pleasure (Filterheadz Remix) is here? Ah, it's the last track of this disc, a nice little melodic number to end the CD on after all that sweaty, primal business that preceded it. About the only criticism I might throw to this disc is it's only ten tracks long, but eh, prog, amirite?

CD 2 also is but ten tracks long, and two of those are different versions of Solid Sessions' Janiero played together for a fifteen-minute outing (yes, Jimmy was a disciple of Sasha & Digweed, why do you ask?). What always confounds me about this set is how, despite a rather Balearic opening to the disc, Mr. Van M somehow steers things towards Nuclear Ramjet's Deep Blue by track nine, a tune that treads as close to the realms of psy-trance as prog DJs ever dared to go. Such a dope tune too (that breakbeat breakdown!).

Listening to these sets reminds me how unfortunate it was that Jimmy made so few commercial mixes. I've heard them all now. What, he also did a collaborative one with Oliver Lieb in 2012? Uh...

Various - Bedrock: John Digweed

Ultra Records: 1999

Many folks consider this Digweed's proper debut solo DJ mix, which is funny considering how long he'd been spinning records up to that point. Heck, he'd just done a set for Global Underground the year prior, and a solo follow-up to his and Sasha's seminal Renaissance set half a decade earlier. Not to mention various odds and ends that slipped through the radar for various reasons. Most of those were in service of other brands though, but by the end of the '90s, Digweed was a brand unto himself. And what better time to expand that brand than by propping up his newer brand, the freshly minted label Bedrock.

Bedrock became a short-lived series itself, but this inaugural outing clearly overshadowed the follow-ups. When people think Bedrock, they think Digweed, and all the artists featured on his label were there because of his blessing keen sense of club weapons for the progressive elite. This was his opening statement for a new phase in his career, dictating where progressive house would go. Also, a shameless way to plug his new big single Heaven Scent to help launch the Bedrock brand proper-like. All the way at the end of the double-disc set. As if it didn't really fit with the new manifesto. Hmmm...

Forget Heaven Scent. What matters is all the music before it on that tasty CD2. Prog has plenty of criticisms, some of which rear their heads in this set (only ten tracks, what?), but I cannot deny the tunes included here do the business proper-like for my earholes. The opening track alone (Ba Ba (Human Movement Remix) from Pob & Taylor) gets on that hard, techy brand of prog that Steve Porter would launch a career from. The Bedrock rub on Heller & Farley's The Rising Sun practically defines the dark, chugging style that prog would build its reputation around (“deep, deep, dub”). And while it's no Breeder, Sandra Collins' Flutterby pulls closely enough from the the same tech-trance lane such that the sound gets its just representation in this set. Oh, and Markus Schulz is here too, his early Dakota track Swirl offering one of the few melodic moments. Guess Digweed needed something to make the anthemic melodies of Heaven Scent not seem as out of place.

All this gushing over CD2, but what about CD1? Yeah, about that. Two decades later, and with multiple attempts, including most recently, this one just doesn't stick in my head that well. It's the dreaded other critique against prog, its more vapourous tendencies for long stretches, and believe you me, this problem would persist in the following editions of Bedrock.

Maybe CD1 is just too sluggish compared to CD2, and thus always forgotten whenever I play them back-to-back. Oddly, the vocal stuff leaves the only impression, like in Moody from BPT, the Fluke-ish True from Morel, and the quaint robotic Hawkins-speak in We Are Connected from Jodi & Spesh. Who'd have thought vocals would be the best part?

Underworld - Beaucoup Fish

V2: 1999

Working at my little music shop gave me access to all the hot, new 'electronica' CDs before they were to hit the streets (back when such things as internet leaks were hushed whispers). So when Underworld announced Beaucoup Fish, I was eager to get that within my hands for bragging rights. I was already rather late to the bandwagon, having only given their earlier works a passing interest (yay Hackers overplay!). Born Slippy changed plenty of opinions though, including mine, so with only their prior big singles being my main point of exposure, you can imagine my surprise at how chill this album went. Oh, it's got its bangers too, but overall this was quite the knowledge drop on how diverse the Underworld discography could be.

And I liked it! Yet, as I recall, general impressions weren't quite so keen. Folks didn't hate it or anything, just weren't talking it up to the same degree as Dubnobass or Second Toughest (after Born Slippy was added to it). I quite appreciated hearing something more classy and soulful though, especially when most popular crossover stuff was big boshy beats or trance-pants 'tastic. Yeah yeah, if I dug around, I'd find the goods, but you gotta' remember where I was stuck at the time. For a 'mainstream' 'electronica' 'record', there wasn't much like Beaucoup Fish on the market that year. Like, what else, Leftfield's Rhythm & Stealth? Moby's Play??

What's odd about this album, however, is despite liking it, there's always been this strange mental gap for a chunk of it. The opening clutch of tracks are easily burned into my brain, because half of the live album Everything, Everything uses the same tunes. Yet after King Of Snake, I couldn't recall much of anything until Kittens, and I only instantly recognize that tune thanks to its inclusion on the Wipeout 3 soundtrack. It would always come up on that game's supposed 'random' playlist; that and The Chemical Brothers' Under The Influence. C'mon, Wipeout 3, give me more of the Sasha originals, why don't ya'?

*ahem* The clever chill-out counterpoint to Push Upstairs, Push Downstairs follows, with the frantic, manic, Moaner making for a strong closer. That middle of Beaucoup Fish is a real blank though. It's not that big a deal, mind you, the three songs here the shortest of the bunch. Unfortunately, Winjer's soft pitter-patter rhythms and muted vocoder vocals is quite the comedown following King Of Snake, while Skym is little more than a chance for Karl to get his lonesome croon on. And I'd completely forgotten about Bruce Lee, which sounds like Underworld trying to do a heavy, rocky trip-hop thing? Not the best fit for a band best known for the thumping techno and cool groove.

Ultimately, Beaucoup Fish is a fine capper on The Emerson Years, providing the sort of tunes you'd expect of Underworld of this era while showing hints of future genre explorations from Hyde and Smith. Huh, what a limp way to end a review.

Metamatics - Beatsamatic

XTT Recordings: 2014

Yay! I'm finally reviewing a Metamatics album! Only, this isn't really an album. It's certainly an LP length collection of tracks, released under Lee Norris' oldest of aliases. In fact, the tracks included on Beatsamatic are among the oldest under the Metamatics banner, appearing on vinyl way back in the mid-'90s, via UK based label Clear. You might know of that print as one that nurtured acts like Mixmaster Morris, Jedi Knights, and Doctor Rockit for a time. Technically the first Metamatics album too, A Metamatics Production, though somehow I suspect the follow-up on Hydrogen Dukebox, Neo Ouija, was more substantial in the Metamatics narrative.

I bring all this up because Beatsamatic doesn't seem to exist within Lord Discogs' archives, at least this version of it. And believe me, if there's a body of fellas that would make sure such things are uploaded, it's followers of Lee Norris. There is a Beatsamatic there, the aforementioned '96 twelve-inch, and thus far the earliest Metasamatic item listed. And since I have no way of hearing the original, I can only assume these are the same tracks – sharing some of the original names certainly confirms it.

Okay, so Lee dusted off some oldie works for a digital re-issue. Nothing strange with that, except these aren't even really tracks, at least in the typical since. Rather, Beatsamatic is little more than a collection of electro rhythm loops and tools, seventeen in all and most in the one-to-two minute range. A few reach out to the three minute mark, which makes me wonder if these were on the original Beatsamatic release (not all the track names were printed, apparently). So not an album at all, then, but a sample pack for budding producers and crafty DJs to make use of. And I have this because...?

Honestly, this was part of that MP3 giveaway Mr. Norris did a couple years back via mailing list, and knowing nothing about any of his wider discography, downloaded it sight-unheard. I figured everything among those would be like all the other ambient side-projects he'd offered, hence why I have it now. There's honestly no reason for me to review this though. Well, maybe if you stumble upon it yourself in your Bandcamp wanderings, and wonder what it is before getting it. Just as easy to listen to the samples and read the text blurb to find that out yourself though.

As for why I've kept this, I dunno, maybe I thought I might get some PWoG Psychick Rhythms Vol. 1 enjoyment out of it. Tracks needed to be more than 'tool' length for that though, and only a few get that far.

Or maybe... Maybe I just might use these loops for my own aspiring musical concepts. Snag myself that L.S.G. sample pack off Bandcamp too! Then, mix and mash them together, while throwing in some weird, distorted abstractions of Oak Ridge Boys gospel as backing. Stranger things have been unearthed from Soundcloud, I'm sure.

Kevin Yost & Peter Funk - BeatKilla: 2

i! Records: 2008/2015

I'm feeling a little stupid right now, but... Kevin Yost is also Peter Funk? Like, I know for certain Kevin Yost exists, as I've done a retrospective on that chap's work. Somehow I got it in my mind that Peter Funk was a separate entity, perhaps a collaborator who'd bring in some proper jazz solos to supplement Kevin's deep, deep, smooth house grooves. It never once occurred to me that I should, y'know, click on that 'Peter Funk' link within Lord Discogs' archives, just to see what his story is. Couldn't escape it with this BeatKilla series though, getting equal billing with Kevin on the cover and all. So follow the 'Peter Funk' link I did, and there's a healthy assortment of singles, plus also has an alias of... Kevin Yost? Wait a minute..! Peter is Kevin? Kevin is Peter? Finkle is Einhorn? That... actually explains a lot!

Okay, it doesn't explain much of anything, this revelation not really some great industry secret. I just assumed a thing, the Lord That Knows All showed me I was incorrect, and now I know better. *a shining light from heavens glows down, angelic music is heard* It's not unheard of producers to create multiple aliases, and to 'collaborate' with their aliases. I guess since Kevin's most successful pairing is with Funk (hah!), he essentially merged the two into a proper, singular alias of Kevin Yost & Peter Funk. At least for the purposes of these BeatKillas.

And whatever is BeatKilla? A series of singles Kevin Funk released throughout the '00s, is what. Lot's of them, in fact, so much so that he consolidated them into not one, not two, not three, not four ...okay, three compilations. I picked the second volume of these for the sole reason of there being a cute pooch on the cover art. Aww, just look at him, ain't he a darlin'? Who's the pweshus beatkilla'? You are, you are!

Unfortunately, while these tunes may be dubbed 'beatkilla's, they kinda' lack much in the way of thrilla's. Not that I should have expected it, Peter Yost forever (and a day) a deep house guy through and through. Even if few of the techier tracks in this collection leaped out at me as highlights within his larger discography, they still served their purpose in providing that unmistakable smooth, ridin' groove with occasional flourishes of jazzy solos. Also, a fair bit of tribal drumming too, popping up at weird points throughout this mix.

Yeah, as a DJ set, BeatKilla 2 is only functional at best, keeping the vibe moving while showcasing tunes, but not so concerned with rising tension and all that rot. Yet they fit far better together than as separate entities, the Bandcamp version of this only supplying the unmixed tracks, with all the lengthy DJ-friendly intros and outros you can handle. Why the digital release didn't also include a the mix CD too, I haven't a clue. It was done for his best of Fundamentals, after all.

Lamb - Lamb

Fontana: 1996

(a Patreon Request from Omskbird)

Like everyone else, I just automatically assumed Lamb to be part of the trip-hop lexicon. Look, when the first track you come across from them is paired up with a Portishead cut, you'd make the association too. I'd see the group's music on numerous downtempo/lounge/chill-out compilations over the years since, though Lord Discogs tells me I only have one of their songs, on the Canadian 'electronica' CD RU Receiving (Górecki, naturally).

My lack of overexposure led me to believe Lamb was a group that got a little lost in the great trip-hop wave of the mid-'90s, one that folks would recognize by name (because how could you not? 'Lamb', it just rolls off the tongue!), but could never reach the commercial highs as the big Bristol acts. And that was true for the most part, their subsequent albums after this doing only modest chart action in the U.K. to say nothing of their global impact. Except Portugal. For some reason, Lamb were huge there, possibly bigger than even in Britain. Hey, sometimes one's sound just clicks with a specific culture.

What I never realized – and probably should have given how Górecki sounds, but eh, context – is Lamb really aren't trip-hop. Elements of it, sure, with a few tracks definitely fitting the mould (Trans Fatty Acid, absolutely). As I listen through their debut album though, I hear closer lineage with jazzstep than anything downtempo. But the vibe doesn't quite gel with the d'n'b scene either, songs definitely more laid-back than the frenetic pace of your Goldies and Roni Sizes. Yet, even when those producers were doing more chill, jazz-soul outings, there was always a sense of urgency and bite in their tunes. Not quite so with Lamb, the busy rhythm-work making better sense in smokey lounges than a warehouse filled with junglists. Less rinse-out tools, more songs that you should sit down and soak in with.

It probably helps that singer-songwriter Louise Rhodes is a permanent fixture of Lamb, thus her lyricism an involved component of their songs than whatever some guest vocalist can whip up for a track or two. And she certainly shows her range here, bellowing when sampled orchestras swell, or bringing things down to a whispery, husky coo when the album goes soft and quiet.

Meanwhile, Andrew Barlow does a fair bit of chop-n-slice production with numerous jazz and orchestral samples, sometimes breaking beats down to near IDM levels of stuttering (so much backspin in Cotton Wool, just so much). As mentioned, it gives many tunes off here a level of kinetic energy you didn't really find in most trip-hop releases, which undoubtedly gave Lamb an extra edge over their contemporaries. The genre was in need of some evolution by '96 as it was, and Lamb certainly provided that. Small wonder they found plenty of success on the compilation market after. Okay, a record deal with Mercury didn't hurt either, the label anxious for their own Portishead after that group won their Music Prize.

Oasis - Be Here Now

Epic: 1997

The history of how Be Here Now deep-sixed the Manchester band's good graces has been well documented. I'm not adding anything by reiterating what others have detailed before. For my money, Todd In The Shadows' video essay on the subject does it best, and I'm not just saying that because I'm a Patreon supporter of his. Okay, I kinda' am – that's literally the point of Patreon – but it is quite in-depth in all the things you'd want to learn about this 'trainrecord'. My pride wouldn't be wounded in the slightest if you close this tab right now and wander out in search for it. I'd provide the link but, eh, you know how flakey YouTube links get over time.

So expectations are already low for yours truly going in – no one would point to this album as the one you're supposed to have, even if you're not an Oasis fan (the first album, definitely maybe?) - but there's a sense of freedom in that. I don't have to worry about forming a consensus opinion or forcing myself to hear a true genius all the haters refuse to acknowledge, or some such. If I happen to like something, that's cool, but I'm not obligated to either. And that chorus for D'You Know What I Mean?, I like that chorus, enough that it's still sloshing about my brain long after I want it to. And as an opener to an album known for its studio excess, it's certainly quite the omen for what's to come. If you're already feeling fatigued by the end of this track's seven-plus minute run-time it doesn't bode well for the rest of Be Here Now.

Much has been said about this album's lo-o-o-o-ong songs, and as this CD plays out, I find it isn't so much their run-time that's the issue, but just how aurally exhausting it all is. By cramming in so many instruments and so many sounds trying to outdo Morning Glory's wall-of-noise production, you can barely make heads or tails of anything in play: guitars and drums and vocals and keyboards orchestras and sound effects all fighting to get in front of one another for your attention. You're mentally tapped out of each tune by the three minute mark, but then they keep going for two, three, sometimes six minutes longer! And the songs aren't all that dissimilar from each other either – felt like they kept trying to redo Champagne Supernova over and over – so you've basically heard all that you need to after a couple tracks.

Then there's All Around The World, as blatant an attempt at a Hey Jude moment in the the band's discography as you'll ever hear. Fair play, as the Beatles nods were always part of Oasis' hook. If I was to imagine a parody of over-the-top Brit rock bombast however (complete with an outro reprise!), this is about how it would come off. No surprise the Brothers Gallagher got there all on their own.

ACE TRACKS: February 2020

So, a little better this past month, but man, still quite a slog. The Real World work, she don't slow down, even when I think it's gonna' slow down, it just ramps up again. Nothing like a little global viral pandemic to get folks all panicky and buying up things and stuff that seldom sell otherwise. And it's funny, because changes are coming up in a few months again, wherein my status will be in flux, and the amount of responsibility saddled upon me will be significantly reduced in whatever capacity my new role will be.

And that's fine, that's totally fine. I get paid the same one way or the other, and if it means I instead focus on singular tasks instead of doing all the things, I'm all the more for it. I always knew I had some mild ADHD (really, in our modern, technologically advanced society, who doesn't?), but never realized just how much it can affect your casual day-to-day activities when you have all the things from work following you home. All you want to do is unplug and let things set fallow but, oof, still got some Balance mixes to listen to and analyze. And them Balance sets, they don't make things easy, nosiree. Well, except that Lee Burridge one. Could tell that was tapioca bland right from the outset. Fortunately, it's not part of February's assortment of ACE TRACKS!



Full play list here.


MISSING ALBUMS:
Attoya - Based On True Events
Various - Base Ibiza 2003

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 0%
Percentage Of Rock: 0%
Most “WTF?” Track: Oh, either of Attoya's, for sure.

Technically, the older Balance mixes are missing too, but most of the tracks are still available on Spotify, so didn't see any reason to list them as 'missing'. Like, that seems to be how the newer Balance options have been supplying their tracklists on Spotify: full unmixed version, and a separate playlist of all the unmixed tracks. It's a very good idea for DJ mixes, methinks, though obviously quite difficult to do with sets dating a decade older.

And not much else in this playlist, Balance once again eating up most of my spare listening time, though I squeaked in a couple extra items towards the end of the month. And what great, unifying wellspring of wisdom have a gleaned from my journey through Balance? There sure was a lot more space disco than I would have imagined, that's for sure.

Attoya - Based On True Events (Original TC Review)

Trishula Records: 2007

(2020 Update:
Yet another one of those old reviews where I spend a huge chunk of the rambling pre-amble detailing a whole sub-genre of electronic music for the readers, just in case they weren't all that up to speed about the exponentially increasing micro-genres emerging within the psy trance scene. What 2007 Sykonee wasn't aware of is this was just the tip of a fractal iceberg, genre splintering occurring at almost the quantum level - this new nano-genre can both exist and not exist! Not that most would care, but for a scene indulging in reality warping psychedelics, the divisions are razor sharp, crystal clear, and down to the sonic yoctometre.

Attoya would release another album half a decade after this one (so sayeth Lord Discogs). Taking a quick skim through, they apparently took the positive words I had for their debut and explored them further. Whee, I loves me some wobbly, rubbery basslines in dark psy. Not sure where I could find a copy of that CD now though, save the second-hand market. Ooh, there's a decent price on Discogs now. No! Must... resist...!)

IN BRIEF: Results vary.

One of the funnier things about electronic music is how scenes often adopt pet names for their music, names that are seldom referred to anywhere else. Sometimes it’s nothing more than making use of a redundant adjective to describe a variation of a sound, and other times it can be a mind-boggling maze of slang terms (grime in its transition from UK garage, for instance). So, it’s hardly surprising a scene as old and esoteric as the psy trance scene is just as guilty of this too. However, it is surprising there are only two isolated terms to spring up from it: morning and forest.

Without getting too bogged down in technicalities, morning trance refers mostly to the melodic stuff, typically played, um, in the morning of all-night parties. Forest trance, on the other hand, tends to be the darker side of psy, played at night in, er, forests. For the purpose of this review, let’s focus on the latter.

Forest trance can be incredibly hit or miss. The apparent aim is to create an atmosphere where the creatures of the night are welcome to the party, like some kind of gathering in the middle of Fangorn; creepy tones, mischievous sounds, and foreboding moods are often utilized. However, while psy has a tendency to forego conventional song writing in favor of warped soundscapes, it seems producers in this field are all too eager to go overboard when they tap into the dark side; why care about immediate appeal when you can totally trip out your audience with those twisted noises, eh? All fine and dandy to a degree, but the end results are often tracks that end up a rambling, incoherent mess. Even when lost in a tribal frenzy, the need for a point to it all is still welcome.

And now, after some 300 words of introduction for our non-psy readers, we finally get to the Burshstein brother’s debut album, Based On True Events. Going by the name Attoya and hailing from Israel, the duo seem to fully embrace what this style of psy sets out to accomplish. If the cover is anything to go by, they wholeheartedly dig the forest trance mystic.

Sure enough, eerie sounds, disconcerting effects, and twisting synths creates the feeling that everything ain’t quite right in the woods tonight. Unfortunately, it’s rather aimless in the process, with Attoya producing tangents and moods for no reason other than they needed something to support the driving rhythms. Every so often, you get a lead that perhaps hints at a possible intriguing plot, but it soon dissolves into psy’s typical squiggly wibble; The System Of Multiple Language is a great example of this as the opening notes are delightfully paranoid, but are never touched upon again. About the only thing that keeps these tracks from descending into nonsensical noise are the basslines; they’ll leap off the rails of the standard dark-psy drone, creating unpredictable urgency in the process, but even then it isn’t done enough to maintain steady interest.

And then we move onto the second half of this album.

Heh, okay, I apologize for slightly leading you on there, but Based On True Events really does seem like an album of two halves. While there are moments to be had in the early going, that is all they are: moments. Even when the tracks are a bit more structured - as in Our Tasty Part for the best example - the end result is rather lacking, feeling like mere appetizers. That all changes after the mid-way mark.

Green Crop Matured is an apt title, as Attoya seem to have firmly grown into their sound from this track on. Yes, there are still some rambling moments, but not to the degree as before, and they are supplemented by musical ideas that build upon each other instead of compete for trip-out time. In fact, this tune is rather brilliant in execution, layering the intensity on in ever-increasing increments while maintaining a sense of flow from idea to idea.

After something a little more subdued, Attoya finish the album out with a couple brisk psy offerings, and quite strongly in the process. While nothing revolutionary, they are solid tracks, especially so when the basslines seems to freewheel with abandon at this late stage.

All being said, Based On True Events is a tentative recommendation. Despite a couple choice cuts to be had, a great deal of Attoya’s debut falls upon bog-standard psy execution, making this a pick-up that'll interest fans of the forest sound but very few others.

Written by Sykonee for TranceCritic.com, 2007. © All rights reserved