Bonobo - Migration

Ninja Tune: 2017

So I've started up a Bonobo collection, and you think, “wat? You haven't yet?” Respected melting-pot artist on a label I've long been a fan of, plus a permanent presence on the local festival circuit: seems a shoe-in for my interests. Two things kept me from properly diving in though, one of which is totally stupid. For the longest time (about a decade now?), I kept thinking this was the Bonobo as appearing on Jimmy Van M's Balance. Which shouldn't be a problem since I liked that Bonobo, so why wouldn't I like this one even if it was a case of mistaken identity? Dashed expectations, most likely, which leads me into my second factor: the unbelievable hype over this guy from certain segments of the electronic music community.

You know the type – let's call them the Four Tet fan. Maybe not so insufferable as the Nicolas Jaar fan, but certainly as agreeable as the Flying Lotus fan. The sort who declare jazzy-influenced producers geniuses for throwing all manner of instrumentation into their works. Not that Ninja Tune hasn't had such artists on its roster before, but for some reason, Bonobo got all the love from hippies (especially urban hippies). And while the music can be perfectly fine and lovely, there's a reflex action of mine where the 'dumb music is fun' portion of my brain (the part that likes German trance) side-eyes such pretentious adoration. How can it be that good, it asks, if it doesn't sound like my favourite stuff? Brains are stupid sometimes.

I wonder if my brain is still fighting this conflict, even as I listen to Bonobo's latest album, Migration. I like what I hear, but I don't love it, yet I feel I should love it. Some tracks, such as the pure dancefloor outings like Outlier, Bambro Koyo Ganda, and 7th Sevens, I enjoy immensely, thanks to that good ol' reptilian portion of my grey matter needing nothing more than a solid beat, a hooky hook, and a charming chant to release the happy chemicals. Gosh though, did the rhythm in Outlier need to be so cluttered? And whoops, there goes my brain goes again, over-complicating things.

That's what it feels like listening through Migration, wherein I'll vibe to a particular track, but a nagging nancy keeps asking “is all this sound really necessary?” The more stripped back Bonobo goes, as in the shimmery sunshine-soul on Surface or subdued trip-hop of Break Apart, the better he is for it. Other tracks, like the titular opener and Ontario, opt for the gradual build into crescendo climax school of songcraft, and I can't help but think them just a tad overwrought in the process. Especially Ontario, which feels like it should be the capper on the album, but three more tracks follow.

Maybe Migration just isn't the right entry point into Bonobo's discography. Fortunately, I never buy just one album of an artist, so this won't be the last we'll see of him here.

Buttertones - Midnight In A Moonless Dream

Innovative Leisure Records: 2018

There's no dodging this, so I'll just get it out of the way: as of two months ago, this band was #metoo'd. Not all the members, just a couple, being outed as womanizing creeps, one in particular having a preference for those who weren't even legal age of consent. I only found out about this as I started my preliminary research right after my last review. I never knew about this when I got this album over a year ago. Almost no one knew, the allegations and confirmed shared stories getting aired out just this summer. The fall of Buttertones was swift and complete, however, their social media presence utterly scrubbed from the internet, their label dropping them like a ten tonne rock, the remaining band members forced to scuttle the project. A token 'all future album purchases goes towards women help charities' is the only thing keeping their Bandcamp page afloat.

Obviously, that puts a huge damper on whatever thoughts and opinions I had going into Midnight In A Moonless Dream. All the mental notes I'd gathered seem inconsequential and pointless now. Talking about how my explorations of 'surf rock' bands straying so far off the beaten path, that I'm listening to a band that sounds more like a cabaret quintet than a group for beach bums. Wow, what a wonderful discovery (thanks, Bandcamp newsletter)! What does that matter when it's giving abusive assholes attention though? The music's great, fantastic even, but I feel ultra-icky praising it.

The ol' 'separating art from artist' topic naturally comes up, which everyone has their own take on. While some are absolute in their perspectives, I'm a little more flexible, in a 'time plus distance' sort of way. The further you get from certain art being created during which its artist was being an asshole, the easier it is to separate the two, especially if said artist no longer benefits from the art they created (dying helps). Again, this is no hard or fast rule, but it does allow me to enjoy things like Michael Jackson's Thriller or the symphonic suites of Koichi Sugiyama with peace of mind. Some things are almost impossible to let go though, like watching a Chris Benoit wrestling match – no matter how 'lost in the moment' I can get with bouts two decades old, that knowledge of him murder-suiciding his family forever looms overhead.

I honestly feel fortunate that the bulk of my musical interests haven't been revealed as individuals deserving of cancellation, selfish though that sounds. I'm sure there are a few with skeletons in their closet that could still be unearthed, but hopefully nothing to the extent as has been going on with other producers in recent years, especially in the local festival scene. Buttertones? No great loss on my part, as they were a band I only came across by happenstance. I may be able to play this album again with time and distance, but as of now... yeah.

Sunscreem - O₃

Columbia: 1993

(a Patreon request from Philoi)

Sunscreem pretty much marked the end of the first 'rave band' era of UK acid house. Y'know, when all those musicians would form groups making loved-up clubbing tunes you could as easily hear on Top Of The Pops as at the illegal barn party. Sunscreem wasn't a rock band per se, but they had all the accoutrements of a rock band: guitar, bass guitar, drums, singer, and keyboardist. Just a lot more emphasis on the keyboard guy, laying out those synth leads and piano licks and backing pads.

After Sunscreem though, successful 'rave bands' all but vanished. You might get a guitarist with the keyboard guy, but seldom the full ensemble. Meanwhile, most who tried carrying on past 1993 generally crumbled with their follow-ups, Sunscreem no less a victim, though that has as much to do with label bungling as it does with sounding dated in a few short years.

Said label bungling must be the reason we never see a reissue or remaster of this record. O₃ has five singles to its name, nearly all of them charting in some way. Several somehow hit the top spot on US dance charts, rubbing shoulders with the likes of Madonna, the Jackson siblings, and Whitney Houston. You'd think such prestige would place Sunscreem among the greatest rave-dance-house acts of all time, but no, all folks remember of them now is as a flash-in-the-pan success, plus a respectful nod from Sasha & Diggers. Even their biggest hits aren't brought out for regular trend-whoring remixes, as though Sony is indignant at keeping the master tapes all to themselves.

O₃ could use a remaster though, some parts of it definitely showing its age, mostly on the rhythmic end. Whenever I hear ol' skool breakbeats as heard on tracks like Portal, Perfect Motion, and Chasing Dreams, I can't help but compare to what Liam Howlett was doing and think, hm, yeah, these need more beef. They aren't important though, merely transitional tunes for the big songs with Lucia Holm bellowing her lungs out. Okay, Your Hands gets a pass for its proggy Balearic charms.

But yes, the highlights of O₃ are tunes like Pressure, Love U More (controversial rape lyric notwithstanding), Idaho, Walk On, and Broken English. Man, especially Idaho and Broken English, Sunscreem building and building those songs to eruptive peaks despite rather humdrum starts. Heck, the whole album plays out like that, with Release Me serving as a triumphant reprise of the earlier Pressure, encouraging that full play-through. Shame they tacked on one more piano anthem track after, diluting such a strong conclusion.

A classic album, then? Eh, not quite, if I'm honest. Despite showing plenty of personality in their singles, the surrounding tracks are treading well-worn anthem house tropes, such that you couldn't pick them out of a pile without Ms. Holm there. Given more time and evolution, Sunscreem could have grown into a real player in the 'electronica' era, but sadly, such was not the case.

Tijuana Panthers - Max Baker

Innovative Leisure Records: 2010/2015

It was bound to happen sooner than later. As much as you'll find throwbacks and homages to the genre throughout the decades, surf rock is just too niche a style for any modern band to make hay playing only that genre. Heck, it was lucrative for a mere half-decade to begin with, and while five years in '60s time is, like, eleven years in modern time (somehow), it's so intimately tied to a specific setting that a lasting rebirth simply can't happen again. Even Bandcamp, the last refuge for any band or musician who just don't give an f' so long as their craft is out there, freely admitted that its surf rock recommendations quickly disintegrate into indie pop or garage rock standards, some included bands barely touching the vintage shredding instrumentals with splashy reverb.

Tijuana Panthers fall into this category, a three-piece band having far more in common with Violent Femmes than anything Dick Dale turned out. On the other hand, their lyrical content sure brings to mind the simpler antics of teenagers hanging out at malt shoppes than all d'at angst of later generations. Never before has getting a crew cut sounded so daring and rebellious! No, wait, wasn't getting a crew cut the norm of ye golden oldies days? Like, having a mop-top hair-do, or something as scandalous as side-burns, those were the styles that gave young women their sexual awakenings. So is proudly proclaiming you're getting a crew cut an act of preppy defiance, or are Tijuana Panthers just playing up the stereo-type in a modern era? So much contemplation for a song that has a chorus of “I gotta crew cut baby; I gotta crew cut baby; I gotta crew cut baby; I gotta crew cut baby.”

Still, as a band that hails from Long Beach, Tijuana Panthers do bring a 'carefree fun in the sun' vibe to their music (including the song Summer Fun), which was aesthetically part and parcel to surf rock as the shredding and reverb ever was. The Beach Boys continuum, if you will, and this debut album of theirs is brimful of the stuff. Tunes like New Boots, Red Headed Girl, Two Step, and Angie will transplant you to the era of mini-skirts and little deuce coups no problem. If you want something a more 'rebellious' and rockin', however, how about rabble-rousers like This Town, and Girls Gone Wild. And yes, a couple songs do get more proper-surf (for lack of a better term), the aforementioned Summer Fun almost entirely a reverb-heavy instrumental, while Prayer Knees meets things in the middle.

Was Max Baker the sort of album I was after, then? Not really, but I do enjoy it for the time it plays. As mentioned, finding bands who specifically play the specific style of surf I like is a nigh impossible task. If my explorations cross paths with those who dabble though, who am I to complain? Beggers can't be choosers, and all that rot.

Doom Poets - Lost Connection

Tech Itch Recordings: 2018

Another Tech Itch Recordings artist with absolutely no information surrounding them. Like, at least Voyage had a photo available within Lord Discogs' archives. These here Doom Poets don't even have that. Okay, there is a tiny blurb within this album's inlay, but I'm not entirely sure it's on the up and up. Do you believe they're distant beings from the far regions of the cosmos, transmitting their first recordings to us inhabitants of the third rock from Sol? Could really use some photographic evidence these beings are legit.

Actually, the rumour goes these may be old associates of Technical Itch himself (maybe himself?) but also chose the path of anonymous purity in releasing music on Mr. Caro's print. In fact, this is an entire manifesto by several folks coming into the Tech Itch fold, releases from others like Brakken and Freed From The Lair also choosing to remain hidden behind project aliases. So a bunch of that theory I blagged on about in the Genesis review (no, the other one; no, the most recent one) is true! That hasn't stopped a few producers with a few details in their Discoggian bios from joining the blanked-face party, and there will always be the main man of the label around too. Just fascinating that, in the half decade since embarking on this project, these chosen few have maintained their mystery manifesto.

So while I generally liked Voyage's album, I cannot deny it being a little one-note overall, serving up brash darkstep from the drop and hardly relenting throughout. Doom Poets opt for something a little more conceptual, breaking Lost Connection up into several segments interspersed with Drone Scans. Ah cool, you think, ambient doodle interludes to break up the monotony. Except, these are far from 'doodles', each lasting between three-to-four minutes in length, fully formed tracks in of themselves, if you'd consider dronescapes with an intermittent thudding beat a track. Given how they're evenly spaced out too, it makes me wonder whether Lost Connection had a vinyl roll-out in mind, each Drone Scan the start of a record side. Alas, no vinyl roll-out, at least not yet. Maybe if the follow-up album Dead Forest moves enough units?

Not to say Doom Poets are some 'dolphin jungle' producers – we are still dealing with Tech Itch Recordings here. Proper opener MFOS is just as big, brash, and menacing as darkstep can get. That's followed by Agony though, a minimalist, feral tech-step workout, then Brighter Days, a pure Amen break workout with moody atmospherics in support. After a Drone Scan, we get a couple more sinister sci-fi darkstep tracks, Drone Scan, and you're sensing a pattern now, right?

This all works in Lost Connection's favour though. A long-player with unrelenting aggression needs its breathers for the hardest hitters to keep hitting hard. Even the moodier pieces like Ruby Eyes and The Triengle can feel oppressive with the overwhelming low-ends. You want d'n'b from the darkest corners of the galaxy, you got it.

Cell - Live In Corfu

Ultimae Records: 2020

The past. Wasn't it better? Remember when door cover was a ten-spot, the Federal NDP had a fighting chance, and the charts was filled with great music (okay, maybe not that one). Remember when Ultimae Records released albums filled with melodies? I do – I have many of their first-run CDs. Nowadays, Aes Dana has turned his label into something of an exercise in sound design, releases sounding big and vast, a sometimes polite way of saying 'empty and flavorless'. By the time of the double-LP compilation Polarity, their journey to the dub techno side was complete, folks wondering if anything resembling a tune the milkman could whistle would ever return.*

Fortunately, there's been a few hinting signs of a return to the wide-screen, cinematic music of years past. Not a massive step, mind you, as the heavy-duty melody makers of Ultimae's formative years have mostly all moved onto other labels and ventures, but it's something to latch onto. Still, what we need for a real buzz-worthy talking point is someone from that O.G. Fahrenheit Project rosters coming back. Even a James Murray or a Circular would be nice. Wait, Cell is the one that's come out of hiatus? He'll do.

Not to downplay Alexandre Scheffer making a reappearance, it's just I thought him essentially retired. His last LP under the Cell guise was the 2009 Ultimae album Hanging Masses, while providing barely a peep of anything else since the 2012 Ultimae album 9980 with Hybrid Leisureland. A lo-o-ong gap in significant music making, is what I'm saying, enough to declare a project presumptively dead, which would have been a shame. His track record from those peak mid-'00s days was a well-spring of potential, one that felt criminally cut short for whatever reason. Thankfully no more, returning with another live album of fresh material, plus inclusions of assorted compilation-only items. Ooh, I see Take Off in this tracklist, the tune Nick Warren used in his mini-Ultimae showcase for The Masters Series. (yes, really)

Still, it's recommended going into Live In Corfu with tempered expectations. Even at his most upbeat and melodic, the Cell project was rather subdued compared to his Ultimae contemporaries. There's even a touch of the ol' minimalist dub techno glitch in Security, though as that track appeared on the second Greenosophy compilation, within the height of Ultimae's fascination of navel-lint sounds, it's not surprising to hear such a thing crop up.

So Live In Corfu isn't quite so pumpin' as Live At Kumharas, but still mostly works a steady, proggy rhythm throughout (save a track or two of blissy downtempo), with plenty of gradual building melodies throughout. Some, like Spinning Whale and Intimate Removals even hit upon those subtle highs of glory days of Ultimae's past. I seriously could imagine the latter as a perfect capper on one of the Fahrenheit Projects. It's that damn good! Not to mention yet another promising step in the label's hoped return to prominence.

RX-101 - Like Yesterday

Suction Records: 2016

What good is a label relaunch if it doesn't include expansion from its older days? It's fine and dandy to get some of the old gang together again, but even better is an opportunity to bring new artists to the light. So while Solvent, Lowfish, Skanform, and D'Arcangelo came back for the Suction Records re-up party, joining them were some old schoolers (Digital Poodle, Locust), and fresh blood too (Beau Wanzer, Celldöd). Most prominent of these new cats is RX-101, who received a special multi-EP roll-out for his debut. Gosh, this guy must be super special indeed for that to happen.

Not really, though it is an interesting story if you enjoy ones about over-coming The Odds, persevering in the face of an uncaring music industry. That one day, you too, can have your demo tapes discovered and brought to the light for all to hear and see. Even if it takes nearly two-decades. And is released on a semi-obscure Canadian label. Just like it happened with Aphex Twin, yo'! Okay, not like that, but the whole 'discovered tapes' thing tracks.

The fact it was music that sounds not unlike RDJ's early ambient techno works (selected, if you will) led to a couple assumptions that this 'RX-101' might be some long-lost items from the AFX vaults. Nah, Erik Jong is a real human being from Zwaag, simply inspired by way-early Artificial Intelligence music. Like, very inspired. Super heavily inspired. To the point of sounding like it was made in that era, which may be why he never sent these tapes to a record label way back when.

I know the early ambient techno scene is filled with a near mythical level of nostalgia, but that sound was almost as quickly abandoned as it sprung up. The major players of the time moved on, evolving their sonic craft in a constant state of staying ahead of their peers. Anyone sounding like ol' school Warp or Apollo were brushed-off for not moving on with the times, understandable for an era when every new year was bringing ever more convoluted tricks and gimmicks to the party (ooh, we can now splice glitch noises down to the jiffy!). Maybe Mr. Jong's stuff could have found a home on a label that didn't give a fuck about such things (say, Rephlex?), but likely wouldn't have escaped the nitpickery. We were too spoiled in the '90s.

Anyhow, fast-forward nearly two decades, and what once would be considered dated and dusted now can come off retro and coolio'. And that's what this debut album from RX-101 does, a consolidation of the first two EPs worth of unearthed late '90s tape material. I'm not saying I feel like I'm transported back to those halcyon rave days, but this does sound like a natural progression from SAW 86-92 if time had completely stopped at that point. There was plenty of untapped sonic potential from that era, and its warming to hear a little more of it.

Týr - Land

Napalm Records: 2008

I made mention in the Ensiferum reviews that non-Scandinavians finding inspiration in classic Scandinavian folklore and making metal music out of it caused a couple side-eyes. Like, how authentic can one be if your heritage places you somewhere on the other side of a continent? It's definitely a gate-keepy conversation, but perhaps necessary – Mongolian Horde metal would sound weird coming from the folks of Oghuz Turkish descent, is all I'm saying.

Fortunately, Viking metal band Týr has none of that to worry about, hailing from the Faroe Islands. A 'last stop before Iceland' archipelago, the Norse heritage runs deep with the inhabitants there, developing their own language and history as most Norse transplants were wont to do in their remote island habitats. So when these guys go on about Valkyries and adventures across the endless oceans, it's coming from an authentic source, especially since they often sing songs in Faroese, a legit descendant of Old Norse. This is turning into a historical/linguistics class, isn't it?

If you're wondering what got me so enthralled by Viking metal, it's this album right here. Hearing stuff from bands like Ensiferum and Amon Amarth only piqued my interest. Musically though, they were still following death metal tropes, what with the power chords and growling and such. Not these guys, going on more of a prog metal path, constantly changing up time signatures so to fit better with the traditional music of the Faroe Islands.

Plus, them singing in the native tongue really sells that feeling of being... Well, maybe not exactly in the era of their inspiration (no electric guitars in the 11th Century, that's for sure), but as close to immersion one can hope for in our modern clime'. It doesn't even matter I generally don't know what the lyrics are (booklet provides a handy translation, if it's important), I'm still mentally singing along as though joined in drunken celebration at a longhouse. Skipping on the death metal growls help.

Then there are the two 'epics' on Land, songs breaching the double-digit mark, and performed in English (yay, I can connect!). Holy cow, do these ever give me feels I didn't think possible from nearly any form of music. Ocean imparts the thoughts of hesitant wandering sea-faring Norsemen, reflecting upon whether a great future and glory awaits them across the unknown horizon. To take up the call of adventure, leaving all that you know behind? Or was it greed?

Well, Týr do heed that call in the titular song, lost on the endless waters in desperate search of any spot of land. And hot damn, do these guys ever sell that desperate hope, persevering in the absolute worst of conditions, the human spirit indomitable in the face of all that the Gods can throw at you. When they sing “Sail with me across the raging sea; Write your tale into eternity”, I'm ready to throw myself into the nearest knörr in search of Vinland! Oh, wait, I already live there, technically.

Mr. Scruff - Keep It Unreal (10th Anniversary Analogue Remaster Edition)

Ninja Tune: 1999/2009

This is thought of as a landmark album in the world of jazzy chill-out music, but it certainly wasn't considered that when it first dropped. Trip-hop was still the dominate form of late-night lounge music, with purer jazz explorations (a nu form, if you will) yet to re-emerge as a trend. If you listened to Mr. Scruff's tunes prior to this major debut on Ninja Tune, not to mention many of the tracks that appear on here, you can still hear trip-hop's influence. Something on that swingin' jazz tip seemed almost a novelty by the end of the '90s (thanks, Brian Seltzer), no one quite sure what to make of it.

Still, such sounds had been floating about electronic music for at least a decade, from the seminal acid jazz works out of Acid Jazz, all the way to the commercial dance charts with Doop's Doop. I'm honestly surprised some of the tunes on Keep It Unreal weren't considered such. True, the notion of what even was acid jazz at that point was basically a dead topic, folks generally lumping those sounds with nu-jazz, or jazzdance, or downtempo, or...

Basically, anything other than acid jazz, since it was no longer so trendy to call yourself that. Frankly, if it's dancey with a kinda'-sorta' house beat to it, you're fine calling it acid jazz. Wait, no, don't go calling it 'electro swing'! That's even- Ahh, too late. Get A Move On is on all those future electro swing compilations now, isn't it. What have thee wrought, O' Scruffian One?

So Get A Move On was the big track off here, while Blackpool Roll and Cheeky joins in on that happy go-lucky swingin' house-jazz vibe. Honeydew is more of what you'd expect to hear on acid-chill comps in the near future, with sultry vocals care of Fiona Renshaw. Further along, Roots Manuva adds some be-bop jazz-hop slangin' to Jusjus. And in what would become something of a running theme with Mr. Scruff records, a couple cut-n-paste quirky tunes regarding aquatic things are here in Shanty Town and Fish. Reminds me of Kid Koala at his silliest, but with much less scratching. Still, you can't resist singing along to “the whale was in full view” in Shanty Town. Attenborough clips don't hurt either.

That's only about half the album though, and mostly at the bookends of a play-through. A large chunk of Keep It Unreal is made up of the sort of jazzy Ninja Tune downtempo that instantly springs to mind when you think jazzy Ninja Tune downtempo. The 10th anniversary bonus disc featuring unused tracks are of similar vein, just not quite as good as what made the cut. Nothing out of the norm, is what I'm saying, thus not so surprising that folks initially slept on this. Maybe it needed more of the potato men in the original cover art to draw them in. Nah, just get those tracks licensed out to compilations and ads. That'll get the buzz going!

Congo Natty - Jungle Revolution In Dub

Big Dada Recordings: 2015

I'd like to say I got this because I've been a long-time follower of Mikail Tafari, since even his Rebel MC days. I can't front though, this being the first I've really heard anything from the Congo Natty legacy. At least, in a deliberate manner. I've likely heard some music of his over the years. A Blackstar track here, a Tribe Of Issachar cut there, a Lion Of Judah slice elsewhere. Still, I didn't get this particular album because I decided it time to do some proper look-backs on another seminal artist. Nay, I saw the words “In Dub” as a title, a Rastafarian man on the cover, and figured I was in super-safe hands hearing some proper raggae dub t'ings.

And I was right! It just wasn't in such a manner I would have expected. Heck, I never expected spotting such a release on Ninja Tune's web-store in the first place. Yeah, they've gone dancehall dubby in the past (oh hi, The Bug), but it's not their lane. Just as well, then, that this came out on offshoot Big Dada Recordings, most famous for bringing Roots Manuva to the light. I honestly haven't followed them as much – figured they were mostly a grime label, given the pedigree – but even then, hearing a ragga jungle album on there seems a tad askew. Not an “In Dub” rub of said album though!

They go all out for this record too. Lee Perry is here! Scientist is here! Mala is here! All come in to offer brief audio snippits of respect for The Music. No, really, that's all they offer here. Meanwhile, a pile of artists I'm wholly unfamiliar with do the actual remixing. I'm sure if I delved deep into the real world of dub music (or even the white-bread realm of retro dubstep), these would be recognizable names, but there's only so many seconds in the year, my friends.

Occasionally, the original jungle roots are heard in this album. Adrian Sherwood's remix of UK Allstars teases out tear-out before settling back into the easy-going rhythms of reggae dub, while Hylu and Jago do more of a stop-start thing with their go on Jungle Is I And I. For the most part though, we're in that classic, impossible-to-ruin vibe of tunes on the downbeat, the accents going on about Babylon, and the reverb in outer space.

So sounds good if you like reggae dub, but what about that other dub that has equal amounts of detractors. Yeah, there's some dubsteppy elements sprinkled about. Those dreaded mid-range wobbles appear in Young Warrior's go with London Dungeons, while DJ Madd really loves that ultra-hard STEP rhythm. Elsewhere, Mungos Hi-Fi turns in a quite drab, empty, ol' school dubstep thingy on Nu Beginingz. None of it's obnoxious though, which is the most you can hope for with these sort of sounds. Makes me all the more want to hear the album proper. A good record, for another time.