Various - In Trance We Trust 022: Menno de Jong

In Trance We Trust: 2018

Heck of a leap here, going from the earliest hard trance out of Germany, to the latest hard trance out of the Netherlands. Yet I can't help but regard the two a little similar. In their respective eras, both are quite niche, a sound primarily enjoyed by a select few in specialized scenes.

And you may think, how can that be true of In Trance We Trust? Isn't trance still the biggest gateway genre with guys like Armin van Buuren as popular as ever? His brand of barely-trance, sure, but that's not what we have here, Menno's style far too beefed up on steroid beats to be of any service for the masses. Why, all these breakdowns and builds actually lead to something, a propulsive explosion forward, none of that anti-drop business Dutch house is saturated with. This is 'second-room' music, the former domain of d'n'b at raves, now occupied by 140 BPM eurotrance because some folks just have energy to spare, and ain't no way the plodding bollocks played in main rooms will cut it.

Heck, Menno opens this edition of the label's mix CD series with psy trance! Well, as close to psy trance as we could ever expect. With its full-on bassline, spacey synth leads, and occasional wibbly fills, GMO's Forty-Two is honestly rather generic for prog-psy, but loads more interesting as an opener than nearly anything I've heard out of In Trance We Trust. That's followed by a Liquid Soul & Zyce rub on Paul Oakenfold's Full Moon Party that's rather goa-leaning itself. Yes, that Oakenfold, when he re-dabbled a bit in goa a decade ago. Goodness, are we in for a complete re-invention of the In Trance We Trust brand, bringing psy to the party in a bid to maintain underground cred? Heck, I see a Flowjob track among the label's recent singles!

Yeah, no, Menno's own Ananda bringing things back to the usual sounds we're familiar with. Actually, this tune reminds me more of older In Trance We Trust, with a solid, strident hook and all, but even that bit of nostalgia bait (plus another updated remix of Beautiful Things) quickly succumbs to the 'steroid trance'. As I've said before, I don't mind this stuff too much, so long as the breakdowns don't last long, and the mastering gives some room for the synths to breathe. There's a few tracks in here that are hilariously bricked though (dear Lord, does Amir Hussain's Mana ever sound buried under the over-driven beats), and I can't help but start checking my watch the tracklist as the set carries on. Spoiled by the tease of psy at the beginning, I guess.

So In Trance We Trust 022, despite the slight hint/tease of evolution at the start, is mostly more of the same from Menno's relaunch of the label. I like it better than where its been, but still feel it's only three-fourths of all that it could be. Needs to rid itself of tired eurotrance tropes, methinks.

Hearts Of Space - Hearts Of Space

Fax +49-69/450464/Ambient World: 1993/2008

Even among the numerous Namlook collaborations, his pairing with Pascal F.E.O.S. goes way back. To the start of Fax+. To a time before Fax+ ever existed! True, it was only a couple of one-off tunes released for ZYX Music, but they're there, listed within Lord Discogs' tomes. Not that the Resistance D. member was the only such techno dude Pete was working with in those pre-Fax+ days. There was also Christian Thier (Deltraxx, Sequential), Uwe Schmidt (Jet Chamber, Subsequence), and Maik Maurice (4Voice), all lending talents to records on Harthouse, Pod Communication, and Trigger (?). Not to mention Mr. Kuhlman's time in a jazz-rock band called Romantic Warrior throughout the '80s.

The Fax+ years is where most figure Namlook's star truly started shining though, and Hearts Of Space truly was among the first 'big' collaborations that got folks looking in. And 4Voice, I guess. Look, when you get to work with both members of Resistance D., the folks of Techno Town are gonna' notice. Hearts Of Space though, that got my attention for two reasons. One, the clear nod of recognition towards seminal '80s ambient and New Age label of the same name. Two, the track Drawn appearing on the personally influential VHS tape 3Lux3. Such space ambient, very CGI, so wow.

Drawn is a pure Namlookian slice of ambience though, hardly indicative of the Hearts Of Space stylee. This being a techno-trance outing from early '90s Frankfurt, you bet your bottom Deutsche mark the BPMs are blistering fast, the synth pads are outer-orbit, and the acid loops are never-ending. A track like All About Sensuality may be downright shocking to those not familiar with these earliest Fax+ offerings, proto-gabber beats and Cosmic Love claps aplenty. Why wasn't the whole album just Sensualitys and Drawns?

That's because those were ambient B-sides to Drawn To The Thrill and All About Sensuality. While I don't doubt Namlook was quite fond of this style of music, it's clear they weren't the initial selling points, figuring the techno A-sides would get his fledgling label attention in clubland. Still, it's funny that while a vintage trancer like With A Medium Into Trance can't help but sound dated nearly three decades on, the simple synthy beauty of Drawn remains timeless.

If it seems like I'm not getting too deep into Hearts Of Space, it's because there isn't that much to detail. Like many early Fax+ albums, it was more a consolidation of singles, and if you aren't into the Frankfurt style of early trance, this probably won't change your mind. The ambient pieces are nice, though you can find them on many other collections of Namlook ambient. I'm not even sure if Pascal F.E.O.S. fans would deem this essential, his later techno explorations far removed from this era. Still, Hearts Of Space remains a nifty time capsule of a label finding its footing, hinting at the sort of collaborative star-power that would soon propel it into one of the '90s most intriguing ambient techno prints.

Haddaway - Haddaway

Arista: 1993

A reconciliation? After a fashion. I ragged on Haddaway's debut album before, though it was based on hazy recollections of it, only a few stand-out tracks surviving into my lasting music collection. As the years wore on, a part of me started wondering, was it really so bad? What Is Love?, Life (Everybody Needs Somebody To Love), and Rock My Heart remain solid jams, so surely there's a couple forgotten gems I was too stubborn to appreciate at the time. Like, that Mission Control Mix of Life that closed the album out, that was a dope tune. Maybe not a sterling example of anthemic prog-house, but definitely something that wouldn't sound out of place rubbing shoulders with a Rollo track (not to mention an “'Any crew?' 'Negative'” sliding nicely in with the rest of the radio chatter).

So into a bulk bundle of eurodance Haddaway went, and yeah, there's a few tunes on here I'd forgotten about that I don't mind hearing again. Shout is the closest thing on par with the aforementioned club hits, with our leading man belting out the title with just as much enthusiasm as the other titles. Only thing holding this peppy tune back is the questionable bassline, a tad over-aggressive for the What Is Love? guy. Sing About Love is a surprising bit of variety, Haddaway getting his rap on over a darn smooth beat and chill pad leads. And, um... ah... hmm.

I really don't want to call the remaining seven tracks 'filler', because they are well produced for eurodance of the time. Some housier jams (Yeah, Come Back), some down-time ballads (I Miss You, Mama's House, Tell Me Where It Hurts) and a cover or two (Stir It Up) are fine for padding an album out, but do little in elevating Haddaway's profile. He's a competent singer, but compared to how much personality he exhibits in the big hits, the rest lack in memorable moments.

That in of itself isn't a complete deal-breaker though, if the tracks are paced out well, but the North American version of Haddaway's self-title doesn't do him any favours. Two lead singles at the jump, then little of note until track eight. Not even the Rapino Brothers Mix of What Is Love? mid-album (aka: the version suitable for New York City clubs) is enough to maintain interest. Plus, even with the rest of the uptempo tunes where Haddaway shines all bundled in the back-half, they are broken up by ballads. The European version (titled The Album, and featured on Spotify) paced things out far better.

Why did Arista arrange the songs like this? Did the label think Americans couldn't handle so much eurodance all at once? Sillies, folks are getting this album because of one of the genre's all-time biggest hits. Give 'em more right at the jump! No wonder I had such wack memories of Haddaway's debut, a big ol' stretch of nothing smack in the middle. Still, t'was nice reconnecting with a couple forgotten tunes.

ACE TRACKS: May 2021

Well, Spotify sure got an overhaul, didn't it? Yeah, the app's continuously done things to create algorithmic-approved playlists and recommendations, but I seldom pay attention to it, sticking to my own interests and leaving it at that. This last update though, a total face-lift happened, such that you now see album art in all your playlists. Gosh, that sure is spiffy. And hey, you can actually search for songs within the playlist app. That sure saves time from using the search featuring, finding the track, then adding it to playlist. Dang it though, can't find Local Files again. Ah well, that always happens with major updates.

I'm sure some are wondering how I can continue to support a company like Spotify when it notoriously pays below a pittance to most of the artists on the app. True, but here's the deal, fam': almost all the music I build playlists with there, I've already bought and paid for elsewhere. Sometimes directly from an artist or label on Bandcamp, other times through a retailer (usually online now), and occasional times second-hand. One way or another, the artist has gotten some financial reparation before I ever add them to a Spotify playlist. Whatever percentage of a penny they get from me playing their music on the app is just added cream. Dribblets, sure, but even that can eventually add up to one of those tiny little cups.

I'm by no means suggesting they shouldn't keep fighting for better payouts from Spotify, because they absolutely should (and bitch out the greedy labels getting their fingers in before they do while they're at it). It just boggles my mind that I've encountered a few artists who still discourage me from using the app when they'd get extra money from me when I do use it. Like, they sure ain't getting payouts every time I play a CD after I buy it (though I'm sure labels would have tried if it were possible). There's being principled, and then there's being stubborn.

Anyhow, here's the ACE TRACKS from this past month of May:


Full track list here.


MISSING ALBUMS:
Various - fabric 43: Metro Area
Hypertrophy - Eternal Flames
Mick Chillage - Epinaz

Percentage Of Hip-Hop: 10%
Percentage Of Rock: 23%
Most “WTF?” Track: Nothing much this month. The Viking metal, you say? Still, you say? Oh c'mon, we should be used to it by now.

A reasonably well-rounded selection of tunes this time out. Some old, some new, some old-sounding new. Some popular, some obscure, and even a dash of cheddar too. Even the alphabetical arrangement flows well. Ooh, that's another new feature I found, instant sorting! Mind, it doesn't sort specifically to how I like, but it sure beats dragging every single track into place.

Tom Tom Club - The Good The Bad And The Funky

Rykodisc: 2000

Tom Tom Club, then. A band that succeeded in spite of factors pointing to, at best, a quirky footnote in the Talking Heads tale. Succeed they did though, where to this day (well, pre-COVID at least), Tina Weymouth and Chris Frantz continued to tour, well into their '60s. Wait, an aging legacy band, with summery music influenced by the Caribbean? Are we sure we're not dealing with a Jimmy Buffet project?

Oh hell, no! How dare I even imply such a connection. Tom Tom Club are forever funky purveyors of Jamaican jam, New York City groove, and disco soul, whereas Jimmy Buffet is... all the opposite of that. Someone just screamed, probably.

I'll get into details regarding Tom Tom Club's creation and influence when I cover their self-titled debut, so let's fast-forward nearly two decades from there, all the way into The Year 2000. Tina and Chris mostly kept the Tom Tom band around as something to do whenever David Byrne would go gallivanting his solo career, which was quite often as the years went on. Eventually David officially disbanded Talking Heads, and though the remaining band members tried carrying on as The Heads, it failed in capturing the same energy without their eccentric lead singer on hand. So, back to Tom Tom Club Tina and Chris went, with a tour that turned out remarkably well after the disappointing Heads experiment. They were so energized by this tour that they hit the studio again, The Good The Bad And The Funky the result. It would be their last album of original material.

Heh, no, it didn't deep-six their careers or anything like that – again, continual tours. I think, however, they simply felt there was nothing left to prove, a legacy intact, a back-catalogue that more than justified itself without needing more added. Not to mention the unfortunate 2001 death of singer Charles Pettigrew, whom been added as an official member of Tom Tom Club during this time, likely left a sombre after-effect on the project.

*whew* That's a mouthful, but how's the music on tGtBatF? It's certainly good, nothing really bad, and definitely funky. Reggae dub and ska generally dominates throughout, with a couple nods to disco and soul in songs like Who Feelin' It, Holy Water, and Let There Be Love. It's all well produced with touches of quirk keeping things on a carefree vibe. Something keeps nagging me though, wondering who exactly this music is for. Tom Tom Club fans obviously, but was there any intent of reaching beyond that audience? There isn't much here that would lure a newer audience, no matter how many wicki-wicki scratches or funky dubs they throw in.

Except for instrumental Lesbians By The Lake. I almost did a double-take, thinking it some long-lost Gorillaz g-side. Which may not be too far from the truth, as Dan The Automator provided a rub on Happiness Can't Buy Money. Returning the favour, Tina sang backing vocals on 19-2000. It's a small world after all.

Tosca - Going Going Going

!K7 Records: 2017

So everyone went crazy over having an official Kruder & Dorfmeister album released this past year, as if the two had never made another record since The K&D Sessions came out many a moon ago. Meanwhile, I'm sitting here all like, “You do know Tosca is a thing, right? Heck, their early albums were very much in the classic K&D vein.” “Yeah,” they'd say, “but what if the two hadn't split for so long, what would they have ended up sounding like as the years go on?” Again, Tosca, right there! We know exactly what it would sound like because Richard Dofmeister's been steadily making music since. Maybe there'd be some stylistic variation, but given how smoothly Rupert Huber slid into the role of frequent collaborator, I wouldn't warrant much. I dunno, it just boggles my mind that Richard's on-going music career continues to be overshadowed by what he did with Peter a quarter century ago.

Anyhow, Going Going Going is the most recent Tosca album, released four years ago as of this writing. It's quite the time-skip for yours truly, in that I'd mostly settled in with the duo's earlier output, Dehli9 that last album of theirs I'd gathered. Richard and Rupert had gone on many musical explorations since then, some hailed as good, some hailed as not so good. Maybe I'll check out some of those to verify (whoa, does Outta Here ever feel influenced by Random Access Memories), but I heard positive buzz over this here Triple-G album, talks of 'return to form' and all that malarkey. Enough of a reason to scope it out for yours truly, so let's have at 'er.

And the first thing I noticed about Going Going Going is just how brisk it is. Tosca were never shy in upping the tempo in their tunes, but a number of tracks on here are almost treading into house territory. There's certainly a lot more 'four-to-the-floor' rhythms offered than I'm used to hearing from the downtempo duo. Many of these tracks even build in such a way that would serve better in a live performance than sitting at home with tea and crumpets. Like Supersunday, a tune that starts nicely mellow with the sort of piano playing as found on the bonus disc of Dehli9. Soon it starts echoing upon itself, a steady beat emerges, supporting synths and sounds are gradually added, and gosh, do I ever feel the boogie-bounce by track's end. Weird that they have an overlong, dubby outro for such a groovy tune though.

Tracks like Export Import, Wo-Tan, Tommy, and Amber November play out in similar fashion, while tunes like Hausner, Friday, Loveboat keep things closer a trip-hop tempo, even if the beat stays steady. Disco, then? Or funk? Eh, I wouldn't go that far, though I could see some of these tunes working in a retro, nu-disco space-funk sort of set. There's plenty of musicianship going on such that Tosca wouldn't feel out of place with the classics.

Maxx - Get-A-Way

Blow Up/Quality Music: 1993/1994

I never bothered with Maxx's debut breakout single because the copies I always saw in my neck of the woods didn't look appealing. Music-wise, I mean. There's no way that cover art is getting by without at least a casual glance, if not outright gawkery. Just, damn! Eurodance was never shy about its sex-appeal, but even this use of curves and shadows was pushing things ever so close into risque. What was I talking about again? Oh yeah.

So Get-A-Way was everywhere, a true classic in a year when eurodance was spoiled for hits. This naturally led to a slew of remixes, but the roll-out was rather weak. Even as a teenager with limited income, I knew getting only three tracks wasn't that good of a deal – all those 2 Unlimited singles I got had at least five. Now, that No More single, that's got some beef to it, and how can I resist remixes with names like “Terrordome” and “Paradise Garage” on them? A sight better than Twilight Mix or 2 A.M. Club Mix.

Get Get-A-Way I did though, as it was an option in a CD single bundle I happened across. Figured I may as well give it a shot, as these old eurodance EPs oftentimes contain some buried, trance-leaning treasure. Sadly, that's not what I get here, the 2 A.M. Club Mix essentially the same as the famed Airplay Mix, but with certain key features missing. None of the buzzy basslines, none of the bleepy leads (instead replaced with panflute toots), and none of that silly 'hardcore' orchestral sting in the song's bridge. Instead, everything flows smoother along pads, with piano lines in the bridges. What's funny is for the longest time, I thought this was the original version, at it was the one featured in my first exposure to it, on Dance Mix 94 (the club-dance compilation series in Canada). Ain't no way things like 'correct track titles' were a thing, and was shocked to hear the original had more similarities to No One than I thought possible.

Still, I cannot deny being a little disappointed in discovering this was it all along. That adorable 'shuffle dance' YouTube video with 2 A.M. Club Mix in the title led me to believe it was a little more bang-on. I'm not even sure if that is an official remix, as I can't find anything that sounds like it.

It does include elements of the Naked Eye Mix, specifically the bouncier synth lead that meets half-way between the original's bleeps and the 2 A.M.'s flutes. In fact, 'bouncier' is the best way to describe this mix – speed it up a bunch, and it could be happy hardcore. As for the Piano Remix, the same piano fills as found in the 2 A.M. rub get full shine, but isn't much different.

Really, the only Get-A-Way remix you should scope out is the (once) UK-exclusive Red Jerry Remix, because c'mon! The co-founder of Hooj Choons, remixing Maxx!

Yamaoka - A Frozen Stream

Carpe Sonum Records: 2018

It's been a couple years since I last talked about Yamoaka, plenty of time to have dove deep into his extensive back-catalogue. Sadly, I have not done so, which is weird given how much I enjoyed his collaborative album with Purl, Simple Songs. I must have been so wrapped up in Purlmania (really, an extension of Silent Seasonmania), that I overlooked Yamoaka's contributions to that album as something worth further exploration. I can't even cop to grabbing A Frozen Stream as the start of my course correction, nabbing it because the striking cover art caught my attention in another Carpe Sonum Records raid. But man, after listening to this one, I definitely need to do more digging into Yamaoka's discography, his Databloem material at bare minimum.

And what exactly is the Yamaoka stylee? Looping music done on the fly, for the most part, with a heavy dose of echo such that his sounds tend to create rhythms of their own, while melodies shimmer in a staccato fashion. Most would name-drop The Field or Gas in comparison, while I naturally refer to Rapoon. None are entirely accurate though, Yamaoka finding his own niche with such techniques. Whereas the others often use samples, lending their loops to a more angular feel, Yamaoka crafts his live, creating a natural flow in his tracks. His contributions to Simple Songs certainly stand out now that I know what to listen for, Purl's work reliant on backing pads in dubby treatments in that album. A Frozen Stream is Yamaoka on his own, so less of that, but still just as much of a trancey journey.

Aaah, not the 'j' word! Okay, yeah, that's overselling things a little. This is all just a little too abstract for a proper journey album, but each piece is a lovely little ride while they play. Some are rather upbeat without relying on much of percussion, if at all (Shaman, Three Stairs), while others use sparse kicks, toms, and hi-hats (Reply, MB (Short), Room (Fade In), leading the music into the domain of melodic, hypnotic techno. Or ambient techno. Or neo-trance. Whatever you prefer.

There's also a few pure ambient pieces on A Frozen Stream but even these have subtle looping elements to them rather than traditional drone. Tracks like White Out and Seat even hint at some modern classical touches in Yamaoka's repertoire, which wouldn't surprise me considering one of his Databloem albums is titled Short Films For Long Days.

The only real odd-man out on this lovely little album is On Switch, a track that is so rhythm reliant, I couldn't help but think of Amon Tobin as it played. It certainly has plenty of time to stretch, breaking the ten-minute mark and all. While some of the gentle, sparkly synth tones still lend a sense of tranquility to the track, the drums are drastically harsh compared to what's come before. Be prepared for a sudden whiplash should you choose to doze off to A Frozen Stream.

La Luz - Floating Features

Hardly Art: 2018

And so we come to a conclusion in my little excursion into the world of surf rock. As my music collection currently stands, I've no more items waiting in the never-ending queue, and it's appropriate La Luz brings things to a finale. They were the first band introducing me in my initial wanderings into 'nu-surf', and with the dust all settled, remain my favourite of all my samplings. Just a shame the band's been stuck on hiatus these past few years.

Of course, it's not their fault, the 2020 Pandemic putting a halt on the careers of many musicians. Small, underground artists especially felt the crunch, and while band leader Shana Cleveland did release a solo folk album in the interim, one hopes this forced interlude hasn't put a permanent mothballing of Lu Luz. There's only so many 'retro dream pop by way of contemporary surf rock' all-women bands out there.

More so, their last album was showing some growth in musicianship, leading to potentially fascinating avenues in the future. I've mentioned before the band's version of surf rock wasn't really what you'd think of traditional, in that their aesthetic didn't always reflect southern California vibes. For sure there's the dream pop attributes, but location more often than not influences art, and La Luz' Pacifc northwest heritage could not be ignored (erm, especially if you're intimately familiar with the lands). With Floating Features, the band looked to shake off some of that greytone, fully embracing the summery Cali sound, with a sprinkle of psychedelia.

You can just feel it from the opening few tracks on the album, things just a little on edge even as the production is more expansive than ever. The titular instrumental opener is big and strident, letting you know you're in for an adventure in sun-baked clime's rather than insular coastal forests, while follow-up Cicada quickens the pace some, sparing no space in the reverb. Loose Teeth gets fuzzier and full of guitar grit, and Mean Dream... Well, it sounds more like traditional mellow La Luz, but the music video certainly dips deep into retro substance shenanigans. Blacklights will never grow old.

Much of Floating Features carries on various dream rock vibes, Lonely Dozer and Don't Leave Me On The Earth the only other times things get 'surfy'. It's honestly hard pegging this album as surf rock though, as the reverb is much more vast than the frenetic shredding of the genre could allow. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if some folks get turned off by the grand sonics on display. It's certainly far removed from the basic garage production of earlier La Luz, but the song-writing is still top notch.

Whether we'll get another La Luz album remains to be seen. There were some personnel changes before everything was put on hold, but I can't imagine this being a final outing. Shana Cleveland seems far too motivated to end a band just because a global virus stalled momentum.

Casual - Fear Itself

Jive: 1994

You'd think every dope album from the Golden Age Of Hip-Hop would shine bright upon some wall of fame for all to see, but to this day, some records still get passed. True, my perspective is quite skewed from rap consumption habits that are, at best, lackadaisical. And yet I come across CDs that leave me stupefied over their lack of discourse, even among those who consider themselves 'true, proper, underground hip-hop heads'.

I can never claim to be one, but I'd like to think myself somewhat favouring sounds off the commercial path (chart-topping classics notwithstanding). Still, it took me a stupid amount of time to check out anything from Casual. I like Hieroglyphics, and all their associative output with Del Tha Funkee Homosapien and Souls Of Mischief. Why so long, then, in scoping out solo material from a member with just as much presence within the group as all these other MCs? In all honesty, I simply didn't know he had solo material of any significance. Maybe a mixtape or item released through the Hiero Imperium, but for whatever reason, it never clicked for me that he was a separate artist from Souls and Del.

Release albums he has though, quite a few of them, even making his debut on Jive back when that label pretended to give a damn about the Hieroglyphics crew. Fear Itself came off the heels of '93 To Infinity and No Need For Alarm, and features all the soul 'n' funk samples and trunk rattling beats you can expect of this era of Hiero. You'd think this would make Casual's premier a shoe-in for legendary status along those two, but I've seldom seen in name-dropped. Was it a commercial flop? Well, no more than the others, but sales never stopped records from becoming 'backpacker classics'. Was it simply lost in the shuffle of all things G-funk out on the West Coast back then? Perhaps a little, but No Need For Alarm dropped the same day as Doggystyle (!!), and folks in the know will always point to Del's album as essential.

The only thing I can think of is that Casual doesn't come off as flamboyant as his Hiero brethren here. Absolutely he holds his own for the duration of the album, and his sinewy, husky flow is easily identifiable. For all his sharp battle-raps though, I can't deny there's just a little something missing from Fear Itself.

Menace, that's it. Hieroglyphics were never 'thug' rappers, but Souls didn't mince words about getting up in your grill. And when Del sounded pissed, you believed he'd “chop your muther-fuckin' head off”. I don't get that same sense with Casual, coming off fun lovin' and, at heaviest, rough n' tumble. Like, Smilin' Mark Henry, rather than Hall Of Pain Mark Henry. He'd definitely get there, subsequent years in the de-e-e-eep underground battle-rapping sharpening his edge. This first outing remains solid though, a worthy companion piece to the early Hiero saga. Can't knock them vintage Domino beats.