London Elektricity - Billion Dollar Gravy (2020 Update)

Hospital Records: 2003

(Click here to read my original TranceCritic review)

For some reason, I got it in my mind I'd written that original review a year later than I had. I know, I know, fifteen years on, and the difference is negligible now, but it does say something about the blurring of time within our memories. I recall us folks at TranceCritic delaying our debut d'n'b reviews for a long while, practically as a joke, though not as long as I apparently remember. In fact, beyond a couple key highlights (me realizing I was gonna' have to be more involved than just 'editor' if things were to get rolling; first time receiving promo packages for psy trance; getting snubbed by Paul van Dyk's PR team because of Jack's review of Politics Of Dancing 2; Cobalt drawing the ire of the Cult Of Schulz) much of that first year is basically fuzz now.

But you're not reading this to reminisce with me (well, maybe a couple are). You want to know whether Billion Dollar Gravy holds up after all this time, and whether there's any new insights nearly two decades of passed time can offer. To answer those curtly, yes and no. I mean, it's not like the liquid funk style was in much need of evolution, most of its defining traits and lasting appeal cemented with albums such as this one. Absolutely it could have gone down some different paths along the way, but as is so often the case with the d'n'b scene, stray just a little too far, and you've basically created yet another genre, purists of the old forsaking its offspring. And while the Electronic Music Genre Standards and Classifications Consortium still debates whether 'dancefloor' constitutes its own genre, comparing that stuff to liquid funk of old (yes, including Hospital Records stuffs) does improve its chances. In that 'dancefloor' is generally bollocks, and Billion Dollar Gravy is not.

I won't deny skipping on London Elektricity after this because I feared Tony Colman couldn't resist chasing that cheesy-pap trend. Some of the star acts signed to Hospital Records, like Camo & Krooked, Logistics, and Netsky, hadn't impressed me much (to say nothing of the 'evolution' of High Contrast), so I just assumed the whole of Hospital had gone that route, including the label's founder. A follow-up album called Power Ballads, the hokiest of sentimental aggro-music out there, didn't do much to allay my suspicions either.

Still, I couldn't well do a 2020 Update on Billion Dollar Gravy without at least checking out the latest London Elektricity album, last year's Building Better Worlds. And gosh, is this ever a mellow album. For sure it's still got that liquid funk pep, but more focused on the soul portion of the classic 'fast-soul music' concept. Are his other albums like this? *checks Syncopated City and Are We There Yet?* Huh, so they are, more or less. How about the rest of the Hospital crew, is there some variety there too? *scopes out S.P.Y.* Well, if that don't trigger the nostalgia endorphines, b'gar!

Bill Laswell - Bill Laswell

(~): 2002

Track List:

1. Psychonavigation - Black Dawn
2. Divination - Descent
3. Above The Earth
4. Bob Marley - The Heathen (Bill Laswell Ambient Dub Mix)
5. Sacred System - Babylon Ghost
6. Commander Guevara
7. Sacred System - Galactic Zone
8. White Arc Spiral
9. Bonus: Brian Eno - 1/1

Not as redundant a burned disc as you'd expect, but yeah, I've gathered a few of these on their proper albums now (Sacred System's Book Of Entrance and that Bob Marley remix project). Still, that's another handful of Bill Laswell jams I haven't gotten either, hence why this old personal compilation has remained with me all this time. I had to do something with all those Laswell tracks I nabbed off AudioGalaxy, see, put some order into that bundle of discographical chaos. Oh, how little did I know I was just barely scratching the surface of how deep it went. Ah well, it's a pretty tidy little summation of his '90s work, mostly on that ambient jazz-dub tip.

Like, I didn't even realize I'd gotten one of the Psychonavigation cuts, though listening to Black Dawn, and those distinct Pete Namlook synths in play, the similarities to those sessions is very apparent. I probably didn't clue in though, since this is a shorter version of the track, whereas the original was over a dozen minutes long. Apparently this cut comes from a double-disc compendium of Laswell music called, um, Ambient Compendium. Also from this compilation is Descent, which originally appeared in longer form on the third Divination album, Akasha. It's along the same lines as the minimalist stuff that project offered.

The other three tracks come from a pair of Bill's regular albums – yes, he even released under his own name too! Above The Earth is more typical of his heavy bass-dub ethnic music, though with the added 'gimmick' of some spoken word stuff too. Meanwhile, Commander Guevara and White Arc Spiral come from Invisible Design, which features different bass tones compared to his vintage low, grumbly style. These are mellow, soft, almost in the range of treble, and played far jazzier than his other stuff I've covered. I'm sure bass guitar experts could fill you in the precise details, but I honestly can't be bothered to do the research. If Laswell's guttural bass tone isn't to your liking though, maybe this one would do you better.

Well, that was a fun little dive into more Bill Laswell, but what's this at the end? A Brian Eno track? And not just any Brian Eno track, but the first track from his first ambient album, Music For Airports (aka: the piano one). What's that doing here?

Ah, see, it comes back to that whole 'raiding AudioGalaxy' thing. Naturally I'd have searched out some Eno, since it was Very Important to ambient as a whole and all that. I saw I had some space left on my disc, and had 1/1 in my folder, so figured may as well stick it on here. I really ought to get Music For Airports proper-like at some point though.

Banco de Gaia - Big Men Cry

Mammoth Records: 1997

Though I place Big Men Cry at the tippy-top of Banco de Gaia albums, if I were to recommend a record for a first-timer, this would be, like, second-to-last. For this is an album that doesn't so much represent Banco as a whole, but rather the bleeding edge of what Banco is capable of.

Even by Last Train To Lhasa, it was clear the classic ambient dub and progressive house style Toby made hay from was tiring out, needing a whole second disc to indulge himself away from dance music's rules. Possibly emboldened by the 'live' nature of those sessions, plus needing to 'evolve or die' in the rapidly mutating scene that was '90s electronica', Toby decided it was time to get the old band back together. Or start up a new band. Get more live instruments into his gigs, is what I'm saying.

And to do that, his approach to songcraft had to completely change, allowing for more freeform flow in his jams than relying on standard acid house loops and samples. Oh, there was still that too, but tracks Drippy and Drunk As A Monk feel far looser than Banco tunes of old, adaptable to musicians playing them rather than being reliant on machines. Meanwhile, Celestine tries the same trick with ambient dub, but despite some wonderful saxophone tooting from Pink Floyd alum Dick Parry, is still a bit stiff compared to the other two. Marks would iron out those kinks in follow-up albums though, and hasn't looked back since.

Still, that wasn't enough to shake Toby out of the doldrums he was feeling around this time. So down he was that he made one of his all-time saddest songs in the titular track, all forlorn strings and beautifully weepy melodies, never again so bare heart-wrenching emotions put to song. Sometimes though, even nakedly laying out one's soul isn't enough. Sometimes you need to escape everything, even if it's One Billion Miles Out, the great beyond and grandeur of the cosmos, unsullied by the hand of man. Banco had ventured into the cosmic realm before, but never in such a manner that you fear its unfathomable desolation.

Yet your gaze settles upon a lone star freighter, quietly drifting in the emptiness, its cargo unknown as it moves through the interstellar medium. Eventually it pulls into Starstation Earth for refuelling and a greasy meal, a real dive of a 'trucker's stop', your only company some droids and a sad-sack singing old country croons from a jukebox. Can't stay admiring the scenery though, as it's back to the stars, taking off at hyperspeed and disappearing into the great beyond before Toby quite literally closes the gate on the album (have I mentioned all the pronounced field recordings yet?).

Banco's music has always been quite 'visual', but Big Men Cry is downright cinematic compared to his larger body of work, pulling you into other worlds well beyond your crusty dance floors. It's emotional escapism music at its finest.

Almost back to some semblance of sanity, here in Canadaland

I sometimes wish I could be more forthright about my line of work. Absolutely it is a good idea to keep my Online and Meat Space activities as separate as possible, but hoo, some of the tales I could bring about the inner workings.

These past few months have been a real exercise in discovering just how many facets of my job there can be. I was already given the reigns to run a place as I saw fit to my whims, as I was essentially the only employee there. Which was fine until COVID-19 hit, after which I was suddenly an Essential Service and business boomed well beyond what an individual was capable of. But still, it was all stuff I was familiar with and could handle. Then I got called upon to help set-up a new location, and my compartmentalized little world was suddenly thrown into chaos. Well, more so.

I didn't think it would be much different than prepping a music festival, but oh was I ever wrong. So many things to do and get done, but the worst part was I wasn't very much involved with any of it. And what I was doing felt mostly like just busy-work, given menial tasks because I didn't have the 'expertise' to do specific things. When you go from doing all the things to doing almost nothing (but are still expected to look busy), that has a surprising knock-on affect on your general demeanor, to say nothing of how much that can carry home with you. Thank God I didn't try blogging any of that stuff! Couple it with keeping abreast of the shit-show that is American Politics, and is it any wonder I've been negligent here?

That's all past though. The new location is up and running, I've been positioned in a place I know I excel in without having to worry about excessive responsibilities (I've had my fill of being The Man, thanks), and my province is cautiously optimistic about opening for the summer (except the southern border). I've suddenly been able to get much better sleep than I have in months, bizarre dreams about obsessing over the band Chilliwack aside. It may still take a bit of time for my blogging routine to recover from this downswing of activity, but at least my surrounding life feels almost normal again.

Various - Big Dirty Beats 2: Bigger Dirtier Beats

Moonshine Music: 1999

Here's an audacious proclamation: Big Dirty Beats 2 may very well be the last, great big beat compilation ever made. Yeah, the genre still had some life in it for a number of years after, and the big players in big beat kept releasing albums for decades longer. Heck, there may even be a few solid DJ mixes scattered about in the 21st Century from said big players showcasing some extra longevity in the old girl. Plus, how can I make such a claim without having heard every big beat compilation released after this one? Honestly, I don't even know of any such releases from after the year 2000, nor am I anxious to trawl the depth of Lord Discog's tomes in search of such items to prove my audacious proclamation.

Yet I confidently make it, for a few reasons. One, the genre itself truly was on the outs shortly after this CD came out. As mentioned, the Fatboys, Chemical Bros and Propellerheads of the world could still make hay from it, while the soundtrack business remained quite lucrative. That was about the extent of its market penetration though, the top spots already filled, and little to no room for newer cats to stake a claim. Besides, there was a new-fangled sub-genre of breaks gaining positive underground cred; a nu-er 'skool', if you will. Sorry, big beat, but may as well make a name in that scene instead when Junkie XL is getting all the plush scoring gigs.

In my books (and my blog), what makes a great compilaton truly great is not stuffing a pile of recognizable hits and names and calling it a day. It's unearthing overlooked gems that properly represent whatever your CD's theme is selling. Unfortunately for big beat, such occurrences had grown exceedingly rare by the turn of the century due to the above factors. Even this series from Moonshine never made it past its second volume, but if Big Dirty Beats 2 was to be its swan song, it was a heck of a way to go out.

Right off, you know you're in for something better than the norm, as the CD opens with not The Wiseguys' huge hit Ooh La La, but their lesser hit Start The Commotion. Okay, the tracks are practically the same, but it at least shows Moonshine thinking outside the box. At the other end of the CD is Lunatic Calm, LC001 (Neon Ray Mix), and if you're drawing a big ol' blank on that tune, that's just because you never looked further into Lunatic Calm's discography post-Metropol. The only other 'star acts' here is Omar Santana and Cirrus, with their future video-game staple Time's Running Out, but I'll allow it, as it's a dope tune. (also, Afrika Bambaataa, but his cut isn't much of anything)

The remaining seven tracks feature acts with barely any Discoggian presence, offering up a variety of breaks that are as big, dirty, and dope as anything the stars of the day made. *chef's kiss*

Neo-Adventures - Big Daddy's Tonight

Hypnotic: 1997

This feels like one of the most needlessly ambitious albums to have ever graced the Hypnotic discography. For one thing, did you know that Neo-Adventures is a super-group? Okay, not really a 'super-group' how you may think of (big names combining forces to do big th'angs), but in terms of Hypnotic, I think the description is apt.

Three chaps are part of this project, most prominent of the bunch being Martin Nielsen. You might remember me mentioning him in that Goa Box: Trance 4 Motion compilation many solar cycles ago, wherein he adopted multiple aliases to fill out a budget trance three-discer. Normally such antics are dodgy as fuck, but his contributions were surprisingly among the best that collection had to offer. He even had a pile of tunes in another dodgy compilation of mine, Rave-Trance 2001, and again were among the better tracks there.

So while I know this won't be some mind-melting hidden gem of exceptional trance (because c'mon!), there's at least a capable hand in the studio. Along for the ride is the late Jan Kjølhede Meedom, whom had done a few productions with various groups here and there throughout the '90s, but was more known for his DJing and label management. Outloud Records (they of Audio Science, Bypass Unit, and a lot of sado-masochist gabber) was his first taste of success, and responsible for numerous Hypnotic releases as a result. This led to him taking over the Danish side of the print, where he carried on doing goa trance mixes for the label before moving on.

Also part of Neo-Adventures is Jakob Andreas Mensch. Lord Discogs has very little information about him, a jazz-dub trip-hop project with Mr. Nielsen called Katharsis his lone prominent work. Neo-Adventures too, I guess.

A pile of dudes in the studio doesn't make a project 'needlessly ambitious' though – just ask Kraftwelt. Nah, I'm talking about the music within, tunes aesthetically on that Danish goa-trance tip, but so very much aiming at progressive house opulence. Second track Good Old Adventure is over eleven minutes long, making it perhaps the longest trance song in all of Hypnotic's history (sans Audio Science's work). And it goes through numerous movements and tonal transitions too, as if its some long lost Blue Amazon work. Just, y'know, not quite as good in the production and songcraft.

There's housier chuggers (Skydiving Baboons, Wake Up Fall), tech-housey shufflers (the titular cut), spacey acid stompers (Hot Pants), proper trance business (Whhhaaauu ...cripes, what awful names), and even a twelve-plus minute live outing of Wake Up Fall (twice as long as the album version already on the CD). A nice amount of variety then, with nifty little hooks, rhythms, and melodies that do a decent job of getting my trance-endorphins flaring up. Again, no where near as good as whatever Sasha and Diggers would rinse out (not even Oakenfold, really), but on the late '90s Hypnotic scale, remarkably superb stuff for a hopelessly obscure release!

Various - Beyond The Machines

Infonet: 1993

Looking at this CD sure brings back memories. Oh, not for any particular sentimental attachment to the compilation itself. In fact, I only recently came across this, during my last and final splurge on Bandulu material. Nay, what triggers the ol' nostalgia endorphins with Beyond The Machines is remembering how enamoured I'd get with such mysterious items like this.

The cover art some strange blend of manga and pulp comics. The track list consisting of such bizarre, unconventional names like Syzygy, Sulphuric, and Thunderground. Even the title hinted at music taking things to a totally different level of electronics, beyond whatever the original Detroit future-fetishists had in mind (to say nothing of the bouncy, poppy euro-dance that was the limit of my knowledge back when). Given the opportunity, Beyond The Machines could have been one of the seminal releases in Teenage Sykonee's developing interests and tastes, opening a whole unforeseen world of sonic possibilities. More realistically though, it'd probably get stacked along such compilations like Tone Tales From Tomorrow Too and The Sound Of Zero And One, techno collections just a tad too off the beaten path for me to 'get' as a dewy-eyed teenager.

Many years older now, and with a vast database of neigh-limitless knowledge at my fingertips, Beyond The Machines is a mysterious item no more. I know who Bandulu is. I know who Syzygy is (and truthfully, one of the main reasons I sprung for this along with the additional Bandulu material). I even know what Infonet is, and that this compilation was a showcase for the label's budding artists. Erm, not many of them stuck around longer than this CD, while one of them had already been making a name for himself in Detroit before (Eddie Fowlkes, who's I Wanna Know is definitely on that 'Detroit guys wanting to make Chicago deep house' tip). Subterfuge's Liquid Poetry reminds me of those way-early attempts at trance you'd hear out of non-Frankfurt regions of the deustchland, while Rev 1's Chochillics and Sulphuric's Better Come Together offer up the acid business.

Really though, Beyond The Machines is mostly about Bandulu and their various side-projects (Thunderground, Koh-Tao). Even the Syzygy track, Meditation, is rather Bandulu-ish, with its loopy nature and all, though quite trancey and mellow compared to the proper techno workouts the Bandulu-proper cuts offer. The opener Thunderground cut, Illegal Rush, inches closer to the domain of trance as well, while the track Amaranth could almost be a New Beat tune, what with its sampling of the synth arp from My Mine's Hypnotic Tango. Not so sure about those tinny trumpets though. As for the Koh-Tao cut, bluesy country-twang in dub is the last thing I'd have expected to hear, but here we are.

The dated quality of these tracks unfortunately does overwhelm much of Beyond The Machines, which leaves the CD more a curioso or completist item of interest. Bandulu did have a unique sound, but it's better highlighted on their albums than here.

L.S.G. - The Best Of L.S.G. (The Singles Reworked)

Superstition: 2004

I can't recall if folks thought it at the time, but it did seem the L.S.G. era of Oliver Lieb's career was over. You usually don't do a 'Best Of' collection if you figure there's still more in the tank for a project. By the year 2004, however, the signs were aplenty that times were a'changein'. Chief among them, L.S.G. was soon to be homeless, the label Superstition unable to adapt with the ever-shifting trends in clubland. They tried getting in on that digital download thing with a run of L.S.G. singles re-issues, but it wasn't enough. Thus a finished album following The Hive went unreleased, and Lieb moved onto other things. Say, that minimal techno thing is catching on, how about that? Ah well, at least Superstition lived long enough to let Lieb do a 'remix album' of all the tunes that helped make the label one of trance's taste-makers of the '90s.

And honestly, I don't think an L.S.G. 'best of' could have worked as anything other than a 'reworking' of all his singles. The easy, lazy thing to do would be to just slap them all on a disc, maybe force a continuous mix out of it, and call it a day, but ol' Oliver had taken the project through many different paths over the decade of its existence. How could one's muse be satisfied with how the original works sounded after gaining so much experience in the studio since? I'm sure ideas and re-imaginings had been sloshing in his brain for a while (especially during the Into Deep sessions, if the final result is any indication), forming sonic links and chains among his various tracks. True, there's always been signature markers that let you know you're dealing with a Lieb production (the gated synths, the impeccable drum programming, those claps), but why not sum it all up in one uber-album retrospective?

Folly for me, I didn't 'get it' when I first threw on The Singles Reworked. Maybe I was more enamoured by the second disc holding all those non-album L.S.G. tunes, in my clutches for the first time and all (Hearts! Transmutation! Blueprint! Fragile (Gravity Fools The Magician Remix By Vapourspace)...?). Or maybe I was just so unfamiliar with all the reworked tunes that I couldn't appreciate the changes. Aside from My Time Is Yours, The Train Of Thought and Netherworld, none had appeared on an L.S.G. album. For a while, I thought it all cool and neat sounding, but cribbing just a bit too much from Into Deep's aesthetic to stand out as its own unique thing. As I said, folly for me.

But yes, time and repeated plays has provided enough perspective such that I hear The Singles Reworked as more than just a 'best of' remix record. It truly is an album unto itself, just with familiar melodies in a different context from their original conception. Think of it like an 'unplugged' session, except still very much plugged in.

Cryostasis - Between Static And Distance

...txt: 2017

It shouldn't come as a shock, but I don't necessarily listen to every CD I get the moment I get it. This endless project of mine has created something of a psychological tick, wherein I'd rather let my anticipation build and build and build until said album's properly, orderly, alphabetically-determined listening time arrives. And this one, I've been waiting on for nearly three years now! Like, I knew I was getting it the moment I saw the cover-art. There's just something about seeing radio receivers in silhouette that tugs at the emotions in me. Maybe it's from that one episode of Cosmos that had similar beauty shots, with Vangelis playing in the background. Yeah, that's the stuff. Erm, but that album title, tho'. When I decided I would review my remaining items after all, that shuffled all 'B' acquisitions into future reference, so the Cryostasis debut had to sit pat for so many months, just so many months.

I won't lie though, I also had some hesitation going into this one. For Cryostasis is a side-project of Si Matthews, whom had yet to capitalized on the potential folks assumed was ahead of him following his debut of Tales Of Ten Worlds. Not that his follow-up on ...txt, Aurora, was weak, it just didn't light the discourse up quite the same way Tales did. I sense the ship's righted as of late thanks to his double-LP effort Across The Ether, but there was a shaky in-between there, from which this album sprung forth during. And the fact his partner in this project, Aoide, is a near-blank within Lord Discogs' archives doesn't help matters. No frame of reference to compare and contrast, how their styles mesh and mingle. All I can do is take the album the ol' fashioned way: on its own merits.

And for an ambient techno album on that vintage Fax+ tip, it's fine. There's a spacey vibe going on here, with a loose theme of exploration beyond our solar system. Tracks mostly run in the a nine-to-eleven minute range, plenty of time to weave a nice sonic tapestry without over-indulging it. Along with feeling retro without feeling dated, one of Si's strongest attributes is his use of subtly building rhythms, and tracks like Another Perfect Earth, Pulsating With Life, and The Destiny Of Man (fifteen minutes to work it helps) offer this superbly. Elsewhere, things go more subdued and reflective, with softer beats and charming acid melodies, or entirely beatless at all (-455°F).

Sounds like all the audio catnip for these ears I could hope for, right? Then why doesn't Between Static And Distance stick with me after it plays? It honestly feels like the same issue I had with Aurora, missing that little extra something that separates 'good' from 'great'. Or maybe my expectations were just too damn high again, which happens with greater frequency now that we're utterly spoiled for musical options. Ambient techno consumers are no longer the forlorn beggars of electronic music.

Strange Days Behind, Insanity Ahead

It's not getting better anytime soon, is it?

Like, I was not so naive to think things would return to whatever 'normal' was in an instant, fully supportive of the responsible, pragmatic steps to post-pandemic recovery. And here in Vancouver, things seem to be proceeding as well as one can hope. Just this weekend, I went for a Denny's breakfast for the first time in months. Never thought I'd miss the ol' greasy girl. Sure, I couldn't go at my preferred time, somewhere around the 5am timeslot (nothing beats waking up too early, and going for an All-American Slam), but pragmatism, man. Guess we'll see in a few weeks how severe the unavoidable Second Wave is, but so long as we don't rush things, Vancouver should remain one of the healthier cities emerging from All This.

Yet when I watch what's going on in America right now, I see nothing but a long, grim road ahead. Used to be I'd sit in a lawn chair at the border munching popcorn, enjoying the spectacle of a nation so dysfunctional like so much Reality TV. The view is no longer so nice though, and my lawn chair sags, and the popcorn tastes stale. I want to help make things right, but am completely and utterly powerless to do so, thus can only watch and hope my brothers and sisters to the south can figure it out. How can they, though, when these issues are so ingrained and systemic that repressed folk feel nothing short of open rebellion is their only course of action? I feel powerless to do anything as an outside observer, but my God, how do those forced to live within that system cope? Lord knows I'd have been pushed well to my edge long ago if I had to put up with even a fraction of what minorities in America do. Marching in streets seems to accomplish too little, especially when the cops surrounding you are just itching at the chance to run you over with their tactical tanks or whatever Army hand-me-downs they get.

It just makes hobby-writing about 'escapism music' feel like more of a pointless chore at this time. I still do it, of course, but man, whenever I fire up the ol' computer, open up my OpenOffice, type out a few sentences, refer to the internet for some background info and Oh MY GOD! It never was this insane, was it? No, no it wasn't. Spits and fires, sure, but now it's all building and ramping up to a raging climax no one can predict but years of Downer Drama Television (depression porn?) has led us to believe it can't be good, it won't be good.

Ah well, at least I still have Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas, a game that takes the hyper-sensationalism of Americana (specifically early '90s Americana) and cranks it to levels of parody. Just barely so, compared to our current climes.