Lars Leonhard - Dark Tales From The Woods

self-release: 2014

Another day, another Lars Leonhard album. Look, when I say I was sent a lot of them, I meant it, the man rather relentless in his output rate this past decade. Maybe not 'tech-house singles' or 'industrial noise experiments' relentless, but averaging a couple LPs per year ain't no slack either. Heck, since I was sent this then-current bundle, Lars has released five more albums. Guess that just happens when your sound is in high demand for NASA videos. Moar muzik for the Stellar Gods!

Thus I must reiterate I've exhausted almost all avenues in talking up Lars Leonhard. There may be a couple albums with specific reasons that went into their creation, but there hasn't been that much sonic difference between most of them, especially in his post-BineMusic era. He's found his lane in downtempo dub techno, and by g'ar, it's where he remains. Unless he has expanded a little more beyond that in more recent albums. I don't know, I haven't heard them yet. I'm still catching up in all these older ones.

So on first ear-glance, I don't have much unique to say about Dark Tales From The Woods, because my first impression is this is more of the same that I've come to expect from Mr. Leonhard. I wonder though, if this impression is due to the general listening gap I give between albums. If I actually played each one after the other, whether significant differences would emerge. Fortunately, due to alphabetical stipulation, I'm dealing with two Lars albums in a row, this one, and Deep Venture. This has given me an opportunity to properly examine them, and whether my lack of picking such distinctions out of other works is simply due to that aforementioned gap. Okay, enough fancy conceptual talk, let's get into Dark Tales From The Woods.

This was among the first (the first?) of Lars' self-released albums, though he still had at least one more outing in store for BineMusic (Passenger At Night). As such, his conceptual streak was still more specific than later efforts would go, though not so razor-focused as 1549 went. The opening track Three Oaks Legend is certainly a moody enough number to set things off, and we're right in the thick of that deep, immersive downtempo dub techno.

And mostly stay in that lane for the duration of the album. Yeah, a couple tracks go groovier than the rest (Forest Window, Rustling Leaves), some feature more of a proper techno pulse (Guardian Of Crows, Deep In The Fog), and others offer a lighter tone to the general mood (The Glade, Rustling Leaves again). It all kinda' blends together though, which makes sense for an album maintaining a consistent theme throughout. Would have been nice to have a journey into these woods, but if tales is what Lars wanted to tell, then tales it was.

Tune in next review to read whether Deep Venture ends up being 'more of the same', or starkly contrasted with this album. Oooh, suspense!

ACE TRACKS: March-July 2020

So I have shingles.

At least it's not COVID-19, right? And I don't feel sick, just frequent hot spikes of pain around my shoulder-blade (imagine a heated cactus ball rolling about) as my latent chicken-pox virus does its damage to all those tender nerve membranes. And you may be thinking, “wait, Sykonee can't be that old such that he'd get shingles?”, and you'd be right. Yet here we are. I already knew all the stress I've put upon myself this year wasn't doing me many favours, but the fact it suppressed my immune system enough such that the ol' varicella-zoster could act up again should have me rethinking the way I'm doing things.

And what's 'funny' about all this is, until it flared up, I thought I was doing fine, life-wise. Yeah, there were still things and stuffs lingering in the back of my mind, but I still had a good groove about doing it. I can only hope my stubbornness hasn't done permanent damage because dear God, this would suck to have to deal with for the rest of my life. Or get myself in on that all-encompassing opiod market America is known for.

That all said, I realized it's been five months since I last did an ACE TRACKS playlist. Figured after all that time, I'd amassed enough of a backlog to make one. Little did I realize the final list would be over 10 hours long! Gander, at the ACE TRACKS from March through July:


Full track list here.


MISSING ALBUMS:
Various - Bedrock: Jimmy Van M
Various - Better Living Through Circuitry
Various - Beyond The Machines
Cryostasis - Between Static And Distance
Coma Eye - Insufflated Brine Shrimp
Astral Engineering - Chronoglide

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 3%
Percentage Of Rock: 19%
Most “WTF?” Track: Neo-Adventures - Whaaaauuu (because “whaaaaaauuuuu TF?”)

Okay, so I cheated a little in the length, in that I included the entirety of L.S.G.'s The Singles: Reworked at the end. Plus some of the all-time longest recorded pieces of music by both Banco de Gaia and Creedence Clearwater Revival ever committed to master tapes (ten minutes of CCR may as well be a prog-rock opus).

Even with those caveats though, the fact this playlist ended up as long as it did just goes to show I've been busier than I gave myself credit for. And diverse too, a little something for anyone's interest making its way into here, providing a surprisingly smooth listening experience compared to many playlists past. Of course, if no one wants to listen to it, because it'll remind you of *gestures wildly*, I wouldn't blame ya'. Heck, maybe it's why I put off on doing this for so long in the first place. It's been a Hell of a five months, it has.

Oh, and some may have noticed I've skipped ahead on my reviewing order. The 'B' section of my collection is too big for one sitting, so decided to split that up while dealing with a pile of other items I've had gathering in that time. Will probably resume with the 'B's in, oh, a year, at my current rate

Atrium Carceri - Codex

Cryo Chamber: 2018

It's been a while since we returned to the on-going story Simon Heath is telling with his Atrium Carceri project. Maybe not as long as the Sabled Sun side-project, but that one did have a sense of finality to it with 2148. Heck, I'd argue it could have ended perfectly with the debut 2145, but that's neither here nor there. What's fascinating about A.C., however, is the fact Codex marks only the third mainline album under that banner since Mr. Heath set up Cryo Chamber. Plenty of collaborative works and joint concept works, absolutely, but to this point, only The Untold, Metropolis, and Codex have been solo works on the label. Does this mean the collaborative ones tie into the mainline narrative at all? Miles To Midnight sure doesn't seem to.

Thus these solo Atrium Carceri works are treated with a fair bit of awe and anticipation, exciting new chapters in whatever ongoing narrative there actually is between the three albums. Simon spared no expense in celebrating the third in the current-trilogy (two years later, still no fourth album), giving Codex the same lavish hardcover casing and picturesque booklet as some of those Cryo Chamber Collaboration releases. It's only appropriate to go whole hog on the package considering this is the label's one-hundredth release.

And we pick up right where we left off in The Void, that vintage all-encompassing cinematic dark ambient stylee Atrium Carceri built an empire upon. The mood is sombre, the atmosphere suffocating, the organs dominating, and your headspace transported to whatever bleak, uncompromising fallen society Mr. Heath has envisioned for us. A couple examples of choking drone follow, then Codex takes a surprising turn for the ...calm and blissful? Wait, what?

True, we've heard sombre piano pieces from Simon before, typically as contrast to whatever menace lurks in the surrounding tracks, but A Memory Lost remains shockingly lovely considering the lead-up. It's followed upon by The Empty Chapel however, with choir and ethereal pads that is almost angelic in presentation. Fits the theme of the track, I suppose, but can't say I've ever heard anything quite so pure ambient as this from this label (I've missed a fair bit in recent years, mind).

We go back to the foreboding cinematic drone after this, Mr. Heath taking us on another journey through old world domains, but its not so harrowing as works past. It's as though he wants us to be more in awe and worshipful of what we imagine than come away intimidated. But before you know it, Codex is wrapping up, another little piano piece in A Hunger Too Deep followed upon by a suitable denouement to the journey in The Citadel.

Gosh, that was rather a brisk listening experience. Felt like things were still warming up before coming to an end. Considering the anticipation, roll-out, and subsequent elapsed time since, I can't help but feel a tad let down by Codex's relative briefness. This dark ambient hunger don't sate itself.

Astral Engineering - Chronoglide

Worm Interface: 1994/2012

I don't normally follow Bandcamp suggestions. Not that I doubt they'll lead me somewhere interesting, but as my Discogs digging already takes up most of my exploratory attention, there couldn't possibly be any avenues not already covered there that Bandcamp offers. Well, not entirely, the deepest depths of that streaming service a mysterious domain of The Unsigned. At least there's some official capacity with Bandcamp, where folks expect their efforts could earn them a few bones, unlike the constant demo reel of Soundcloud productions. Lacking the time to explore that realm, however, I simply pass on whatever unfamiliar names crop up in Bandcamp's algorithms.

Except this one, for some reason. I can't recall which release it was tied to, but the cover art got my retro-senses tingling, so gave it a click. Lo', my senses proved accurate, for I'd stumbled upon a gem of an artifact in ancient ambient techno and dub. Astral Engineering emerged from the post Artificial Intelligence / Beyond Records era of British downtempo techno, finding a short-lived home on Worm Interface. Folks of the here and now may not recognize the label, but the London shop it based its operations out of – Ambient Soho – will certainly bring a flood of memories back to those vibing on the chill side of electronic music. Sadly, the label remained one of those hopelessly obscure prints that didn't generate much in the way of future Very Important talent (save a Tom Jenkinson), but has its dedicated fans floating about the perimeter of scene interests.

So Chronoglide. It's something that could possibly have made its way into the early Fax+ catalogue, though less on that pure, noodly spaced-out trip Pete Namlook and his associates often dabbled in. It's got the ultra-dorky sci-fi fetishism the IDM wonks were all about (Wave Part, Beyond The X-Ecliptic). It's got naturalistic sounding tracks that remind me of Delerium during their more experimental phase (Neural Net). It's got rather subdued, meditative pieces for those proper chill-room experiences (Ring, 2010). It's got some proper ol' school trance (Brainstrobe) paired with proper ol' school ambient dub (Bios ...such bass).

And finally, it has a low, dubby synth lead in NGC 4512 that I cannot but help feel Underworld jacked for their first post-Emerson single Luetin. A coincidence, I'm sure, but man, if Underworld had ever gone ambient dub instead of prog-house, this is probably what it'd sound like. Also, what a strange namedrop, NGC 4512. Far as I know, it isn't a terribly remarkable galaxy, merely a smear of light in the Draco constellation. Why Simon Rees would feel inspired by it, I haven't a clue.

Ah, right, I should get into who Astral Engineering is, and all that. Sadly, Lord Discogs says he didn't do much else after this, though re-emerged this past decade to, along with this Chronoglide re-release, put out some unreleased material, plus a new album just this past year. Only a quarter-century in the making!

Frou Frou - Details

MCA Records: 2002

(a Patreon Request)

Like 97% of the world, I've only really known Imogen Heap via memes. Absolutely she has fans that extend beyond those hearing her synthesized croon as some helpless schlub is ironically shot in slow motion. Some of them even existed before Hide And Seek became her defining work. The amount of buzz that single generated for her career cannot be denied though, going from a non-charting oddity to Top 5 selling artist in America. Even Zach Braff including her Frou Frou track Let Go didn't accomplish that!

Right, to call this a strict Imogen project would do Guy Sigsworth a great injustice. Yeah, that's her voice on all the songs, and her glamming it up like she's about to go shopping Madison Avenue on the cover art, but Frou Frou was initially the brain-birth of Mr. Sigsworth. He'd participated in a few mildly successful UK bands in the '90s, but truly made a name for himself lending his production talents to the likes of Seal, Madonna, and Björk. He also crossed paths with a young lass with a quirky name, and helped produce her debut single called Getting Scared. I cannot deny it's weird seeing Ms. Heap as a raver-goth grrl in that video, given the future her career would take.

Anyhow, itching to make a proper album of his own, Guy set out to do just that, working under the project handle of Frou Frou. Realizing he needed a little female vocal talent to give his songs that extra bit of class, he got in touch with Imogen again for a contributing lyric or two. She soon became so involved with the creative process that they decided to make the whole Frou Frou gig a collaborative process. And thus Details came forth to much... mm, no, 'aplomb' isn't the right word. It did okay, from what I can tell (I recall Breathe In being rather popular on the radio for a spell), but it didn't light the UK on fire either. Still, those college kids in America seemed to like it, enough for a lengthy tour there.

I can hear why this album was popular with such a particular demographic – this totally makes sense hearing out at coffee shops or sorority parties. Guy definitely knows his way around a studio, expertly blending multitudes of instruments and musical styles into an indie-pop soup such that Details defies easy genre classification (my WMP suggests New Wave; capital attempt, ol' chap). To my ears though, that studio expertise flattens my enjoyment out of this album. The music within is just a tad too slick and polished, such that it kinda' fades to the background of my attention after a few tracks (the delightfully twee Maddening Shroud notwithstanding). As for Imogen, she sounds fine, I guess, certainly an integral part of the Frou Frou package. The chorus to Breathe In aside, however, nothing here eclipses Hide And Seek. And how could it, the latter a fixture of late '00s meme culture?

Coma Eye - Insufflated Brine Shrimp

self-released: 2020

(a Patreon Request)

I'm surprised this doesn't happened more often. These Patreon Requests have mostly been as I expected, if not so dominated by a select few. Getting my thoughts on items I've overlooked in the past, or throwing some shine on genres outside my usual wheel-house (so much Japanese music... just so much), that's usually how it goes. Somehow I haven't received requests for anything intended for a roast, as can happen, but I guess I haven't gained a reputation as that sort of review blogger. Come to think of it, I don't think I've gained any sort of reputation. Which is ...good? Like, I have a real life and a real job, and becoming Internet Famous could severely impact that. Yes, even Good Internet Famous (is there a Good Internet Famous?).

Thus getting requests as a means of promotional hype has been exceedingly rare on the Patreon front. I can't imagine my word carries very far or has any influence – I do this as a lark, not as a profession. Folks would have more success sharing things on streaming services than the slim hopes someone may stumble upon this blog and wade through over two-thousand posts to see their stuff given some shine. Then there's the whole 'ethics' of it all, getting paid to potentially hype something up. Never mind I'm quite honest in my feelings over whatever I listen to, there's just this whole assumption, see. Then again, I've actually reviewed promo stuff from my local talent, so where do I get off on this holier-than-Pitckfork shtick?

Speaking of 'local talent', listening to this debut EP from Coma Eye reminds me of the sort of live PA acts I often hear at Vancouver's bi-annual Sequential Circus showcase. Apparently Coma Eye is part of one such scene, hailing from New Orleans but somewhat involved with Erie's electronic music scene. As in, 'Lake Erie' Erie? Wouldn't make sense to have an Erie in Louisiana, now would it? That'd be like having a town called Tsimshian on the Hudson Bay (very local joke).

Won't deny I didn't have high hopes for this after the first couple tracks. IDM can go oh-so very wrong and off the rails without a steady hand, producers too often thinking MOAR stuttery-glitch means MOAR awesome. Coupled with ultra-twee perversions of electro-pop sampling, and the palming of my face is complete whenever I hear that kind of stuff. Coma Eye doesn't go quite that far, but does take a longing glance at the edge of that cliff.

Or maybe my ears just prefer when she takes things down the breakneck acid techno road with HORSE. Or the creepy sludge-glitch of Conquered In The Concord Gel. Or the trippiest-hop of Do You Love Your Granny?. That's the darned thing about these IDM wonks: when no sounds or styles are off limits, they're bound to stumble upon something that connects with the cochlea. Some have better batting averages than other, but even a .500 on a six-track EP ain't too shabby.

Airwaves - Biomechanical

Carpe Sonum Records: 2018

The spiritual successor to Fax+ has been on a heck of a run these past few years, such that I grow ever more flustered with each passing newsletter of their releases. It's sadly been nearly two years since I've picked anything up from them, and it's not for a lack of interest, believe you me (so many 'blue covers'... just, so many...). They've simply grown more than I'm sure anyone could have predicted, but since their run of CDs aren't as limited as similar labels go, there's a sense of biding time with Carpe Sonum. Dabble here and there, particularly with artists you're not always familiar with but features striking cover art. Ah, this Biomechanical looks intriguingly unique, why not that?

Thing with Carpe Sonum is I generally have a good inkling of what I'm going to get with them, typically ambient and ambient techno with a '90s feel for it. Imagine my surprise, then, when listening to this CD for the first time, it went ultra-retro, all the way back to the '70s! Not that I hadn't heard such stylistic dalliances from the label before, and honestly, it's not like ambient as a genre is so specific to decades as other electronic music is. Still, you can just tell when some pieces have influence from earlier eras than others. It's all in the gear used, m'man, and the chap behind Airwaves, he was a connoisseur of vintage gear indeed.

Right, Airwaves, or Oscar Menzel, as inscribed on his obituary. He passed away earlier the previous decade, but left quite the impact upon the Mexican ambient scene, in that anyone was even aware it existed at all. He released two albums as Airwaves way back when, which naturally are super-rare. Additionally, they were on Opción Sónica, an L.A. based, Mexican-focused outlet that didn't last into the new millennium, specializing the harder side of rock and EBM, placing Airwaves well outside the label's usual fare. Basically all odds dictated Airwaves should have been hopelessly buried in obscurity, yet some folks did discover him. Then his music generated enough positive buzz that Carpe Sonum somehow unearthed more unreleased material from the Menzel estate, two album's worth, in fact (as I was gathering pre-notes for Biomechanical, Carpe Sonum released Multiverse... I did not plan this!). I feel like this chain of events could only have happened in the modern era, what with archival websites like Discogs letting super-diggers know of Mexican ambient composers releasing music on '90s industrial labels and all.

I also feel kind of bad in thinking the story behind Airwaves is more interesting than the music on Biomechanical. It's decent enough as an assortment of pieces feeding off that vintage Tangerine Dream vibe, with a lean towards the New Age side of things. Aside from a couple tracks that sounds like it should be in a direct-to-VHS horror movie, it's all rather pleasant and nice stuff. The adherence to vintage gear does give it all a dated feel though, even with a spiffy modern mastering job.

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.