Saitoh Tomohiro - Drawing Line And The Curve

Databloem: 2018

So remember when I bought a big ol' Databloem bundle, and spent the better part of last year (or two) getting through it all? Turns out I missed one! I know I've done this before, but it still boggles my mind that I can accidentally skip some CDs in my orderly queue, getting lost among all the other piles I let build up. What, I could just not buy numerous items until I'm all caught up? Balderdash, no one has such will-power, I tell you. No one! Even the sagest of Bhudda monks would be all like, “Damn, I gotta' get me that latest Fantasy Enhancing CD before the limited 100 run out!” Scarcity is a remarkable motivator.

I can't be entirely to blame for this one getting lost in the shuffle. I know nothing of Saitoh Tomohiro, so an album from the man wasn't high on my 'must hear' priorities. Plus, the cover art is part of Databloem's unassuming 'colour smear' period. I actually bought all the early CDs of this pseudo-series, but the others came in colours that always catch my eye (primarily blue), whereas red... eh, just doesn't resonate as much with me. So while Kaleidos, Upwelling: Emergence and Atlantic Fusion (Simple Songs too, kinda') easily stuck out and couldn't slip by if they tried, Drawing Line And The Curve didn't. Grammatically odd title wasn't helpful either.

And even if I had done some research digging before buying, Lord Discogs wouldn't have been terribly helpful with Saitoh Tomohiro. His most prominent work is as one-half of Colbets, who released five albums over five labels within a (approximately) five year span. Only one of these albums, Far Away From The Light, saw anything resembling a proper release (on Japanese ambient dub techno print AY; bvdub has appeared there). This here Databloem debut is his solo debut period, with practically no inlay or PR blurb detailing what his deal is. Sure making this a hard sell, lads.

But hey, Drawing Line And The Curves is quite nice, far as ambient is concerned – would you expect anything less from Databloem? While there is some of that Japanese 'tonal harmony with sporadic glitch' thing going on here, this is mostly a straight-forward outing in the genre, with the layered synth pads, varied gentle tones, droning soundscapes, and the like. There's a general theme of 'twilight atmosphere' throughout, whether losing oneself in foggy forests or city stargazing, and plays out in a rather traditional sort of way, with shorter pieces interspersed with longer ones, though nothing ever breaching the ten-minute mark.

Then, you notice something odd. One of these pieces seems to be going on longer than you thought it would. It's like it never ends, and you can't help but take notice how much in stark contrast it stands with everything else. Then you check the liner notes, and see the final piece lasts nearly twenty minutes, titled Day Will Break Soon. Given the theme of the rest of the album, that's apt.

Way Out West - Don't Look Now

Distinct'ive Records: 2004

(a Patreon Request from Philoi)

Like Hybrid, I never thought I'd dig into the discography of Way Out West. I liked the odd track I'd hear from them, but the general discourse of “each album is less interesting than the last” didn't inspire much curiosity from yours truly. Still, I took a chance on Intensity, quite enjoyed it, and will get around to their self-titled debut in due time. Meanwhile, I'm here reviewing by request Don't Look Now. Hey, that was, like, one of TranceCritic's first ever reviews! Let us never speak of it again.

Way Out West were often fancied prog-house taste-makers, helping usher in a young prog-breaks scene while Nick Warren handled a pile of Global Underground sets. There's very little taste-making going on with this album though, the duo clearly hearing the winds of change, hitching their wagon to the emergent McProg sound of the mid-'00s. They even went out and got their own vocalist, billed here as Omi (Lord Discogs tells me she performed as Emma Hall with Starecase prior).

This could have been a great album, easily on par with their older works – Nick and Jody remain talented producers no matter how 'basic' their songcraft gets. However, it feels like the sequencing of Don't Look Now is totally borked. It starts as you'd expect of a group trying to get on that Hybrid-prestige, Anything But You a decent prog-breaks outing while letting Omi do her thing. All momentum of the album is sucked out, however, with a watery trip-hop follow-up. Plus, if you came in already feeling suspect about Omi turning into a major focal point (centre-spot on the cover art doesn't help), this wouldn't have allayed your worries. Never mind she doesn't appear much after (only three more songs out of twelve total), the front-loaded impression is difficult to shake.

The middle run of tracks are all serviceable stabs at various forms of prog (house/breaks/slowbeat?) but I cannot deny my attention often drifting as they play. Chasing Rainbows' languid pace and dreamy guitars are quite nice, while Fear triggers all the right McProg-enjoying endorphins lurking somewhere in the recesses of my brain.

Still, I feel stupid for not really getting into this album until Killa, just because it's such a simple, dumb-fun tune (those chants! D'at thunderous beat!), your reptile brain can't help but take notice. From there, more intuitive breaks action comes care of Northern Lights (the sort of science some undoubtedly expected from the start), while Melt is a pleasant little ditty for Omi to take us out on. Oh, wait, they got Ulrich Schnauss with them for the actual closer, Absinthe Dreams a weirdo trip-hop session that certainly fits the title.

Regardless of how folks reacted to Don't Look Now, it ended up being a one-time outing. Omi would never return, while Nick and Jody split off for solo pursuits for half a decade. It does hold up better than most commercial prog of the day, but that's not a terribly high bar to pass.

Moljebka Pvlse - Discourse On Lightness

Reverse Alignment: 2017

I'd forgotten how intimidating it was venturing away from the comforting warm embrace of Cryo Chamber for my dark ambient and drone fix. So many artists out there, with distinct traits and approaches, all with strange exotic artwork. It's been a spell since I last took in a release from Reverse Alignment, and for good reason. I'd more or less tapped out all the names I was already familiar with (Ajna, Dronny Dark, SiJ) and had mostly sprung for all the albums with artwork that caught my eye (your Graders, The Long Journeys, and Buried On Vanths). Beyond that would be completely uncharted territory for yours truly, no easing in.

So headfirst into Discourse On Lightness I dove, for no other reason than it was catalogued nearby other albums I'd picked up from Reverse Alignment. And as is so often the case, I plucked out an artist with a fairly common story when it comes to these experimental drone sorts. Moljibeka Pvlse started releasing material in the early 2000's, floated about many labels (Cold Meat Industry, Fifth Week Records, AudioTONG, Gears Of Sand, Some Place Else) while maintaining his own label on the side (Isoramara). He eventually landed on Reverse Alignment, debuting there with A Transformation. Wait, that's not right. He actually appeared there a tad sooner, as the man behind Moljibeka Pvlse is Mathias Josefson, who was also part of Skare (of Grader fame). Huh, so I didn't go into this so utterly blind as I first thought.

Discourse On Lightness is Moljibeka Pvlse's second album on this label, with a yin-yang approach to the offered compositions. Three pieces are featured, each hovering around the twenty-minute mark (on the relative short side of things, where Josefson drone pieces are concerned). From the outset of A History Of Levitation, you're hit was one of those multi-layered, atonal, wall-of-sound drones that doesn't feel calm or relaxing in the slightest. I'd almost call it confrontational, but there's something strangely subtle about it too, like an undercurrent of melody that lulls you in for the duration. Supposedly, this is the 'yin' portion of the album.

Makes sense, as follow-up Between Lightness And Luminance is all about that stripped-down, minimalist, avante-garde symphonic sound. Sparse discordant strings, echoing field recordings and hushed vocal noises in empty chambers, creating a rather tense atmosphere as it plays out. The third track, A Field Guide To The Sunrise bridges the gap (completes the circle? fills the symbol?) between the two, mostly minimalist as well, morphing through creepier strings, bells and tones, but eventually transitioning into a rather tranquil, soothing stretch of ambience as the piece slowly winds down. Why yes, the 'sunrise' theme is quite apt.

So an interesting outing, this. Can't say I was a fan of the first two pieces, but the third does help put them in clearer context when taking in the album as a whole. As for how it relates to all the old-timey art within the inlay, I haven't a clue.

Technical Itch - Digitally Ascended Vol. 3

Tech Itch Recordings: 2017

Technical Itch was clearly content sticking to the singles market, so I gave up hope on ever hearing another long-player from the man, Diagnostics a once in a blue moon event. Much time passes, and I feel a tingling sensation in the back of my head, like a sentient nerve poking me with the question, “I wonder if Mark Caro has anything on Bandcamp?” And holy cow, does he ever, not only releasing tons of fresh material via his own label this past decade, but bringing in new artists that share his classic darkstep aesthetic. With actual physical media too, including CDs! Hot damn, I gotta' get me in on some of that action, but it seems the only hard-copy item currently available from Technical Itch himself is this Digitally Ascended Vol. 3. Whatever, it's gotta' be dope, the man incapable of wrong after such a storied career!

And... he's taken a stab at trap. *sigh*... When will I learn?

Personal petty petulance aside, I'm not tut-tutting Technical Itch here. Doing a modicum of research would have clued me into the fact that this Digitally Ascended series was started way back in 2009 as a means for Mr. Caro to explore that trendy dubstep thing going on, and carried on with other stabs at the slower, grittier side of bass music; for the d'n'b purists, he had the Progression Threat series. Some time in the mid-'10s, he started rolling Tech Itch Digital material into the parent label Tech Itch Recordings, finally offering hard copy options for stubborn holdouts (*cough*). Digitally Ascended Vol. 3 was the first of his own releases to come out during this phase, hence why it was the first Tech Itch item I saw available as CD. There's promise of more to come though, oh yes.

And you may be thinking, what's the big deal about Tech Itch branching out? Nothing at all, but this is one of those cases where his top-notch production doesn't fit the sound he's trying. Trap is all about stripping things down to bare essentials, the most rudimentary drum sounds available from your 808 emulator. In Mr. Caro's hands though, with his menacing widescreen atmospherics, these drum tracks end up sounding like demos or, at best, something from the halcyon days of audio bass sub-whoofer stress testers. The dubstep tracks are only marginally better, in that they aren't far removed from what the genre did sound like in its infancy.

Fortunately, Digitally Ascended Vol 3 offers surprisingly more variety than the early portions of the album suggested. There's a couple dark ambient tracks here (August Ends, Separka), for all your psychological thriller needs. Elsewhere, Rememberance edges as close to tech-step as this series would probably allow, while the final two cuts (Strangest Form Of Magic, Touched By The Gods) have more a trip-hop vibe going for them. Good stuff, just a shame the comparatively under-produced first half of the album sours a full listening experience for me.

Kriistal Ann - Delirious Skies

Werkstatt Recordings/Wave Records: 2014/2017

Not her first album, but considering it was the only one of Ms. Ann's Werkstatt recordings to get a re-issue with Wave Records, I feel safe calling it her breakout. It's better than Refraction too, Kriistal's actual debut rather rough and under-produced. Not that the whole minimalist, coldwave aesthetic is known for its cutting-edge studio quality – indeed, the rawer the better – but the songcraft was still comparatively basic. Sometimes you just need to get that out of your system though, expunge those hesitant jitters, get a feel for what works and what doesn't. Right, she wasn't any rookie, having already been making music with Toxic Razor for half a decade to that point. Something something solo spotlight versus shared stage, and all that.

I feel like I'm spinning lyrical wheels here. I want to hype Delirious Skies because it's the Kriistal Ann album that has She Walks In Beauty on it. That piece of music makes me feel things I didn't know I was capable of, and I fully admit it was the absolute best setting to hear it the first time doing that. There's nothing like seeing freshly-lain snow, two feet deep, over a mountain pass as twilight settles upon a starry sky, all the while hearing an all-encompassing mechanical bassline and icy synth leads as Ms. Ann's ethereal voice sing-recites poetry from Lord Byron. Holy cow, I get chills even thinking it!

It's also such a significant leap above in mood and tone compared to the music on Refraction, it feels like much of Delirious Skies is in service of bridging the gap. The opening salvo of songs Fortune Of Medea, Fright, and Punisher do sound stronger and more confident in vocal delivery (Ms. Ann's “ohh-ooh”s in Fright seem off-key to my ears, but she fully commits to giving it her all regardless), with the minimalist coldwave production tighter and punchier. Then she goes into more avent garde territory, with harsher synths, clunkier rhythms, and less singing in favour of operatic spoken-word delivery. Is there a technical term for that? I'm sure there is, like a whole Gothic sub-genre of it.

Anyhow, I don't like it as much, but again do appreciate the branching out. As mentioned, it all comes off in service of building Kriistal Ann into her final form as presented in She Walks In Beauty. And as if to sell the point any stronger, the Wave Records re-issue included a bonus track, Jewel Throne, which sounds leaps beyond even the album's earlier tracks, closer to what her later releases would become.

I'm not so foolish as to try and recommend Delirious Skies to anyone beyond the most ardent coldwave cultists. This remains incredibly niche music, and trying to sell it as anything but makes me feel like a Pitchforkian hipster gushing over witch house. Kriistal Ann simply struck the right endorphin trigger for yours truly, but who knows, maybe she will yours too. Maybe wait for a returning winter though.

Lars Leonhard - Deep Venture

self-release: 2015

Straight off, this is definitely different. Less moody, more a sense of subtle awe and graceful beauty. Even the trademark dubby production comes off softer and inviting, not so darkly atmospheric that it sounds like you're in a fog. Which makes sense since Dark Tales From The Woods was all about that setting, whereas Deep Venture is not. Thus we can conclude that, yes, each Lars Leonhard album is distinct from one another, and the only reason they sort of blend together in my memory is due to the time-gap I have between listening to each one. And, as a result of the generally subdued nature of his songcraft, it's his sonic aesthetics that typically stick to my membranes rather than any particular rhythmic pattern or melodic hook. We scienced this up hardcore, y'ah bwoyz!

(to find out what ever it is I'm going on about with this train-of-thought, oh ye' souls of future tense, scope out my previous Lars Leonhard album review right now!)

While Deep Venture isn't about any specific thing, it does have a general theme of exploration in the most mysterious domains of our little ball of rock and water. A significant chunk of the tracks here come with titles like Bioluminescence and Photophore, plus name-drops like Vampire Squid, The Singing Opah (a warm-blooded fish), and Osedax (bone-burrowing worms that feed on whale skeletons), all creatures of the bounding main, lurking deep within unfathomable fathoms.

Not to be outdone, even technical terms like Pelagial, Hydrogen Sulfide, Negative Termal Expansion, and Trophogenic Zone all bring to mind things that occur in bodies of water. Only two track titles don't specifically tie into these themes, Northern Stargazer and Retroreflector, but they can if you tilt your head the right way. Ah, yes, looking upon a clear, dark night before sending your recording instruments deep into the darkest waters below. Lovely mood setter, that.

As befitting an album with its sights set on deep aquatic ventures, Lars' distinct dubby production feels more tranquil his other albums. There's even breathing space for his subtle melodies, which I know is a weird thing to say for a producer's who's made his lane in dub. Sometimes they get overwhelmed by the layers of sonic depth in his other works, but not so much here. It's like he wants you focused on whatever particular critter his sonic camera has focused on, no time for getting lost in one's headspace.

In fact, the music on Deep Venture feels so custom-made for video accompaniment, I'm surprised there haven't been any aqua-related YouTubes with this used as a soundtrack. It's because NASA already gobbled up a bunch of these for one of their Ultra-HD 4K vids of the sun, isn't it. Yeah, the space agency had been plucking tracks here or there from Lars, but this one's a full half-hour long, half of Deep Venture. Now when folks hear Osedax, they won't think of bone-burrowing worms, but of solar eruptions.

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!