Wanderwelle - Lost In A Sea Of Trees

Silent Season: 2017

Another significant item from Silent Season's 'let's shake shit up' period. Not only was Wanderwelle's debut among the first forays into LP vinyl releases, but the first to try original artwork too. Okay, I've already said that on the Gathering Of the Ancient Spirits album, but that was a whole two years ago, which in 202x time, may as well be half a decade. Still, I bring it up again because all things considered, Lost In A Sea Of Trees was a major item when it came for the label. Maybe not Pacifica significant, but certainly up there.

Which leaves me feeling just a tad disappointed by it, if I'm honest. I still vibe on it, but Gathering Of The Ancient Spirits was my introduction to Wanderwelle, and I like that one more than this. With more attention paid to soft, mythical tribal percussion, the duo's sophomore effort had a remarkable affect upon my headspace, transporting me to a place and time upon Polynesian islands that never really existed. Lost In A Sea Of Trees attempts this too, focusing on the darkened woods of old Europa, but the music adheres to minimalist dub techno aesthetics just a little too rigidly for me to get those same feels.

Saying that this album 'feels off' isn't really a detriment either, Misters Bartels and van Dulm specifically crafting the music to create a sense of unease. Indeed, ancient forests of their homeland often imparted such unnerving imaginative tales, which seems at odds with Silent Season's usual manifesto. Yeah, we have our own dense, untamed foliage in the Pacific Northwest, but little of the fearful folklore associated with it. Our forests are not cavernous domains filled with the vile and abhorrent, but a primal, purer place, where concepts of civilization are simply subsumed by towering pines, flowing ferns, and thick mosses. You are not consumed by it, but merely merge with the nature surrounding you, becoming part of it. At least, that's how the hippie, mystical sorts in the region tell it (not to mention those who've lived here thousands of years prior).

Guess you gotta' be here to truly experience it. Point being, when I get 'lost in a sea of trees' out in the hinterlands of British Columbia, it doesn't come with feelings of apprehension, but wonderment. And Silent Season's many releases expertly capture that feeling.

Anyhow, opener The Starry Night does a good job setting the mood, a gentle pad lead riding on subtle sounds and soft rhythms. Things go more mysterious on Where The Wind Howls and Through The Meadow, while we get into more ominous dub techno territory with Lured By An Unsen Presence. We actually stay in this vein for much of the remaining album, only lifted out of the darkened woods with closer The Domovoi. In all, a neat sonic jaunt through foreboding terrain, but for me personally, not as captivating as I was hoping for. I've taken far too many forested trips, I guess.

Dynatron - The Legacy Collection Vol II

Blood Music: 2016/2019

A slight correction on the previous Dynatron Legacy Collection: these compilations just recently saw hard copy editions released, digital versions first appearing in 2016. That would explain why it took me so long to actually pick these up, what with holding out for CD options and all. I'm not sure what surprises me more, that it took Blood Music three years to make said CDs and vinyl, or that it's taken me two additional years to actually review them.

Okay, probably the former. You'd think the label would have wanted to capitalize on the trendy interest in all things synthwave while it was still hot. Were the pressing plants booked so far in advance for up-front material, that poor Dynatron was simply shuffled that far down the queue? Or maybe they were trying to time it such that a pair of re-issue compilations would drum up interest in the artist's return? Sadly, the former still seems more likely. It's been two years and still but a single EP from Dynatron.

Anyhow, The Legacy Collection Vol. II rounds up all of Jeppe Hasseriis' wayward compilation material for a tidy nine-tracker. Which honestly isn't that much music, making me wonder why this wasn't just lumped in with the first Legacy Collection as a double-LP. If there's enough interest to buy two separate volumes, surely there's just as much interest in buying the same amount in one package? Maybe so, but when regular pressing plant time already comes at a premium, can you imagine trying to get a double-LP pressed? Just ain't worth it, mang!

Still, I was interested enough in this material to spring for it. After all, it includes the track that first got me intrigued by Dynatron, Jovian Giants, as appeared on the digital-only Aphasia Records compilation Artificial Afterlife. Surely the rest would be just as dope! Well, the other Aphasia item that opens this CD up, Stars Of The Night from Futura Compilation, is nice enough. Doesn't quite hit with the same cosmic adventure other Dyantron tunes do, but maybe this was meant to be a stargazing tune.

Can't say I was as keen on follow-up Dust Of The Saturn, which already hurts my grammatical senses. This one comes from The 80s Dream Compilation Tape – Volume 2 on NewRetroWave (not actually released on tape), and if this tune's anything to go by, taps into the cheesier synth-pop vein of synthwave – too retro, not enough future. I kinda' want to say the same for Out Of The Center, but because this came out on a compilation called PLUTO: a synth odyssey from the non-N.A.S.A. affiliated New Horizons Records, I just can't hate on it. The little planetoid got dumped on enough by the 'proper' planet community, it needs all the love it can get!

There's some okay stuff after, including a few tunes with guitar action, but far from Dynatron's best work. Guess he saved his choice material for the albums.

Dynatron - The Legacy Collection Vol. I

Blood Music: 2016/2019

Those initial re-issues of Dynatron's first two albums must have done well for Blood Music, as following their release, we got The Legacy Collection. Two whole volumes of it, in fact! Or they were simply stop-gap items tiding us over until Jeppe Hasseriis released another long-player. Hey, it worked for Perturbator, one of the label's hottest talents at the time. Only trouble is the Dynatron project went relatively silent after that. I believe he did some touring, but on the production front, practically nothing since 2016's The Rigel Axiom EP. It was four years before he put out another EP, Surveillance, which in synthwave years may as well be a decade. I'm sure Jeppe has his reasons for keeping Dynatron on hold for so long, but in a scene filled with fly-by-night artists, absence does tend to lead to forgetfulness.

Which is partially why it took me so long to check out these Legacy Collection albums. I honestly thought another LP was right around the corner from Aeternus, and when it did not materialize, thoughts of Dynatron simply drifted on by. It was only another of Blood Music's CD sales that I spotted them and thought, “Oh yeah, Dynatron. Haven't heard from him in a while. May as well snatch these up while they're still available.”

And you may think, he only put out two albums, just how much odds 'n' sods material can he possibly have to warrant two Legacy Collections? Not that much, to be honest, which makes both volumes rather odd. For instance, Vol I takes most of his assorted EP material and serves it up as is. That includes Throttle Up, Flashbacks, plus a track from the Fireburner EP (not Fireburner though). These are arranged as though you're playing the EPs one after the other, which isn't that big a deal, except Flashbacks included an Intro of starship ambience, someone (or something?) inquiring a computer over the status of cryo-sleeping crew. Hey, cool beans and all, but this comes smack in the middle of this CD. Wouldn't it have made more sense to have the Intro at the start?

Eh, whatever, it's not a big deal, just niggling nitpicking for its own sake. What matters is the music on hand, and the two EPs featured here deliver. The Throttle Up material is all about that cosmic adventure vibe, space synth played at a synthwave tempo – yes, there is a difference. 37 Million Horsepower even features a little guitar shredding, perfect sounds for hot-rodding on meteorites. Following that mid-LP Intro, we're into Flashbacks, a much slower, chill collection of tunes. While Save The Moment has me reminded of Weather Network muzak, Cruiser is really getting in on that Jan Hammer stylee. The lone Fireburner cut that isn't Fireburner - Cosmo Black - is fairly standard Dynatron stuff, but a nice capper on this collection. As is Looking Back Part II, if you sprung for the CD. Which I did. Both of them, in fact!

The Miraculous Melting Man: An EMC Update

So that was a month.

And you may be thinking, it ain't my fault my region of the world decided to go through one of the hottest heatwaves this planet has ever seen, rendering doing anything productive an impossible effort (thank God for MellVerse 'First Time Watch' vids getting me through it - sweet find!). Or maybe it is my fault, in that we are all culpable for unprecedented temperatures messing up our fragile ecosystems. Mm, nah, that's getting way too deep into it. Besides, all that happened in the final week of the month. What excuse do I have for the lack of activity here in the three weeks prior?

Distraction, mostly. Like, finding another podcast to binge-listen. Getting the ol' Rise Of Nations working on my computer to binge-play. Feeling invested in playoff Sportsball to binge-watch. All that good stuff. The stupid-hot heatwave was just a melting cherry on top a liquefied sundae of procrastination.

And I can't say things will be picking up soon either. Next week I'll be going on an honest-to-God, real, out-of-town vacation! Okay, not a major one, but just being able to leave town, go for a drive in the interior, stay at a hotel, all vaxx'd up and everything. By g'ar, it's been a while! Been having to get my fix in by playing GeoGuessr, which while neat, doesn't quite fill the void of cruising down long stretches of remote road. Ain't nothing gonna' keep me from doing this though, nosiree. Unless a ridiculous amount of forest fires shut down all the mountain highways. That'd do it.

Mohlao - Landforms

Silent Season: 2017

This album feels like Silent Season going back to its earliest dub techno roots. No, earlier than Pacifica. No, earlier than the first Wandering Compilation. I'm talking those initial digital singles, before they added Pacific northwest artwork, giving the label its distinct style. Back when dub techno was more a hot trend than a way of life, erm, a brand to build a label out of. And while Silent Season wouldn't outright abandon the sound, more elements of ambient and melody would continue creeping in, such that the more clinical mid-'00s style became a mere afterthought.

In the back-burner the genre was kept though, such that when Silent Season started feeling that vinyl itch, it made sense to release techno tools of this sort in the format. There was even a ten year anniversary roll-out of numerous vinyl, letting folks know they were serious about providing fresh material for the black crack fiends who'd been clamouring for the format. Naturally, I skipped out on all these because I don't buy vinyl, yet held out going digital just in case Silent Season opted for a CD option at some point down the road. That still hasn't happened, and I guess I'm just deluding myself into thinking it ever well happen – this label isn't really known for its re-issues. Very well then, some digital buys of items I've missed, then.

And Landforms from Mohlao felt like a no-brainer for yours truly. Artwork reminiscent of Ultimae's forays into geological porn, dorky track titles like Rotar, Neptune, and Vector, a relative unknown I get to discover. The man behind Mohlao, Samuel van Dijk, has a few aliases under his belt, VC-118A leaning more Detroit, while Multicast Dynamics treads into abstract ambient drone. So behind these and Mohlao's dub, you have a nice trifecta of techno from mister van Dijk, none of that trendy business bosh.

We even get a taste of the experimental stuff with opener Rotar, where a bunch of drippy, minimal sounds slowly emerge over the course of two minutes. The arrival of a subdued rhythm just adds to the sparse arrangement, this track all about the noises that are barely there. Follow-ups Voltool One and Neptune do more to get things moving along, but even then these are dub techno tracks more as tools than music.

Some traces of backing melody do make their way into this album in tracks like Vector and Outline (ooh, big synths!). This mostly alternates between pure dub techno works, and while not bad, doesn't really do much to ignite this album beyond an exercise in functionalism. I cannot deny this left me a little wanting, Silent Season releases typically offering more than that. Like that titular closer, that's the sort of floating headspace dubby techno I wanted to hear more of.

I dunno. It just feels weird coming away from any release on Silent Season with such lukewarm feels. There's 'returning to the source' but maybe it's not best going all the way back.

Frame - The Journey

Glacial Movements Records: 2019

No way I could resist an album like this. The cover art alone invokes so many sonic possibilities, all of them frigid, remote, isolated, and barren – perfect summer music! And gosh, it looks like the whole label is like this, with familiar names like Rapoon, bvdub, Chihei Hatakeyama, Scanner, and Skare. Hello, my new obsession!

With no frame of reference, I went into this one cold (puns for days!). Doing a little background reading wouldn't have helped much anyway, this being Frame's lone entry within Lord Discogs' tomes. The players involved have been around many, many years though, with releases dating back to the early '90s. Andrea Benedetti was among the earliest adopters of Detroit techno out of Italy, heading up a few labels in support of such sounds at the time. He's also released sporadic material as Sprawl, but it seems DJing has been his primary passion. His Frame partner, Eugenio Vatta, has even less info on his Discogs page, but apparently has worked with Andrea since ye' olden days as well, skint though those releases are.

Apparently Frame is something of a long-running live P.A. project of improvised gigs performed at artsy shows. They never committed anything to CD, figuring the spontaneity of a live performance couldn't be replicated within a studio. That didn't stop them from recording many sessions though, building up a library of material for possible consideration. Thus it turned out with The Journey, an attempt at creating some sort of narrative from these disparate performances.

Ah, a journey as in the journey Andrea and Eugino have taken as Frame over the years? Sort of, but that'd make for a boring concept album. Ah, so a journey to the frozen clime's of our planet, as indicated on the cover art? No, not that either. Going by the tracklist, this is nothing less than a journey to the cosmic reaches of... just our solar system. Well hey, plenty to explore here.

Truthfully though, Frame opts for the ultra-minimalist scenic tour. Often played real quietly too. Things start out rather typically for a dark drone outing, Mercury imparting a foreboding tone, while Venus brings in creepy, echoing rattlers while static hisses in the background. Almost feels like you're in a steamy, sticky hot jungle, which kinda' makes sense for the Hell planet.

Things go extremely minimal after that though. Heck, most of Mars' eight-minute runtime is just a sustained tone (oddly relaxing mood for the War planet). From there, a lot of abstraction, a lot of experimentation, all played impossibly quiet, such that the sounds often fade into whatever background ambience surrounds you. Yes, even when played on headphones – the sound of your own heart beating may be louder than some of this stuff. It's not until Neptune that something harmonic emerges, with synth pads gradually building, while Pluto And Charon goes more industrial. And hey, The Arrival finally gives us some actual melody! Hoo boy, what a journey to get to it though.

Segue - The Island

Silent Season: 2019

I can't help but feel that Silent Season's shine has diminished some. Oh, not the quality of their releases, they remain top-notch. It feels ages ago, though, since the little dub techno label out of the Canadian west coast broke out of the underground thanks to a spiffy Resident Advisor spotlight, Segue's own Pacifica leading the charge. For a time after, Silent Season couldn't drop an album without everyone wanting in on that action, making nabbing a physical copy something of a mad scramble. Not so much anymore, but don't worry, all ye' investors of the label's older catalogue: those CDs still command upwards of three-digits on the Discogs Marketplace.

It was with this framing some couldn't help but think Segue's third album with the label was something of an attempt at re-capturing that initial hype. Never mind that journey over the Coastal Mountains, Jordan is taking his muse back to the Pacific waters, to another of those charming little island one finds sprinkled about the Strait Of Georgia, tide waters nipping at its steep shores. There's trees, and blue skies, and gosh, doesn't The Island art remind you of Pacifica? None of that sepia-toned alpine cloud cover, nosiree.

I kid, as musically, Mr. Sauer's come quite a ways from those days. Melody's been creeping ever more noticeably and gracefully into his dub techno output, to such a point that it practically dominates over the deep under-belly of his tracks. Opener Sunrise Over Malaspina leads with more of those vintage Segue synths, dubbed out with plenty of tasteful reverb, soon joined by a soft rhythm and sprinkly arps. Shore Breeze keeps the mellow vibes going, sparse synths backed by melancholic pads and minimalist crunchy static. Mirage quickens the pace, but the beats remain soft and... is silty a way to describe a rhythm? Like stepping in the beach where the water's just receded, as the cosmic vista above you is revealed in quickly approaching twilight. Yeah, some music is just best described in simile.

As should be abundantly clear by now, The Island is more of that Segue stylee I'm sure everyone reading this already loves. It's maybe not quite as 'floaty' as Over The Mountains or 'functionalist' as Pacifica, but if you liked those albums, you'll like The Island. The only two cuts on here I found my own interest drifting on was Beacon Point and Midnight Dip, tracks that were more about dub techno sound design than anything my mammal brain could latch onto (the former too plodding for any repeat plays). The ship is nicely righted for the final two tunes in Galaxies (so spacious!) and Deep Current (so chill!).

Which leaves me in a conundrum regarding Segue's larger discography. I like what I hear from him, but getting hard-copies of it all isn't exactly easy anymore. Do I keep holding out for a chance deal, or just bite the bullet on his Bandcamp? Ooh, four of his albums, including Pacifica, that I don't have yet? Tempting...

Hollywood Burns - Invaders

Blood Music: 2018

Is synthwave dead? Haha, no, of course it isn't, what a silly thing to insinuate. No genre truly dies, and this one's too young to go into remission just yet. It does, however, feel like the hype behind it has tapered off, which isn't that surprising. The genre's been around for about a decade now, and had its peak of popularity in about half that time. Most of the scene leaders are now firmly established and entrenched, band-wagon jumpers and copy-cats having come and gone. That doesn't mean there isn't room for some new hotness to emerge and make a run for the top of the mountain, but such things seem fewer and further between. It's not enough to just slap some retro synths, Moroder rhythms, and Carpenter themes into your music anymore. A healthy scene needs evolution to remain vibrant, but how can it when the whole point of its existence is thematically singular?

Hollywood Burns may have found a way. If synthwave is all about celebrating the soundtracks to an '80s that never existed, why not extend that to other decades? Say, the '50s, when bombastic Biblical epic scores could rub shoulders with pulpy sci-fi sound experiments?

Opener Opener Titles doesn't shirk on letting you know what you're in for. The orchestra is in full swing, with a Theremin in support (or something emulating it). Don't worry though, folks, you didn't accidentally get something way off the beaten path. This is still a synthwave album from a French producer on Blood Music. Follow-up Black Saucers is full-on Perturbator stylee, is what I'm saying. Just, with more '70s retro synths and pulpy sci-fi sounds, is all, and a wonderful shot of fresh vitality in a genre that can sound all too samey the deeper you dig.

I guess I should mention that a couple of the tracks that appear on Invaders previously appeared on his debut EP First Contact. Given how strong tunes like the aforementioned Black Saucers and Came To Annihilate (vocoder!) are, it's plenty 'nuff to build a full concept album on. And what concept is that? Eh, running through a matinee of old movies being played in some grungy '80s back-alley theatre, I guess. Can't escape that synthwave aesthetic.

But it all sounds in service of laying out all manner of different orchestral swells and wailing synth noises while riding out aggro dark-synth rhythms. Bazaar Of The Damned gets in on some Arabic harmonies, and now you're in a wild chase in some desert adventure movie. Scherzo No. 5 In Death Minor has creepy poltergeist chasing you through foggy graveyards. Revenge Of The Black Saucers has U.F.O.s chasing you through L.A. skylines. Have I mentioned a lot of Invaders as a real 'outrun' feel to it?

So a solid, unique album in synthwave canon. I can't wait to hear what else Hollywood Burns has done! What do you mean he hasn't released anything since? Oh no, please don't be another 'one and done' artist!

Mick Chillage - Intervals Of Light

Fantasy Enhancing: 2018/2019

Of course Mick Chillage would have an album out on Fantasy Enhancing. It's more a question of how many albums he'll have on the label run by his Autumn Of Communion partner. He's up to two now, and that doesn't include the items made in tandem with Lee Norris or Árni Grétar (ooh, new Skau Atlantic, say wha...!). What I wonder, however, is exactly which of his projects gets consideration for which labels. Like, does he offer one stylistic album to Carpe Sonum Records, then something completely different for Databloem? Why has Neotantra landed three LPs, but Touched only two? Is all this rendered moot now that Mick's taken to self-releasing his own stuff, even setting up a label (Before & After Silence Recordings) to do so?

Of-course of course, what sets Fantasy Enhancing apart from all these other prints is the prestigious DVD-sized packaging their releases come with (box-sets, too). It makes you feel like you're getting something extra-special, the sort of item one proudly displays upon your shelves. Surely, then, an artist like Mick Chillage would want his best music on a product with the best packaging on the (CD) market. Seems appropriate.

Does that make Intervals Of Light the best Mick Chillage album? Heck if I know, I've only heard about eight of them, while Lord Discogs lists about another fifty in his catalogue. I may never hear them all! Of what I have heard, however, Intervals Of Light certainly sits among the top half.

This is almost an entirely pure ambient album, and at just five tracks long, you might expect another one of Mick's more indulgent works. Not this one though, the noodling melodies actually feeling like they're going places worth seeing, even on the twenty-one minute long titular track. This is the sort of ambient you'd likely have found on ultra-obscure mini-discs in the '90s, most likely made on an Italian print. It may not sound like much just playing in the background, but gosh, those lovely, gentle tones, they sure do seem to last forever, and wouldn't mind them carrying on for even longer, no sir.

Of the four other tracks, two breach sixteen minutes, the others eight. Time Zones makes good use of its runtime, going on a nice little journey of various ambient sounds, samples, and tones, the sort of weightlessness one might sense while about airports. Acuapor and Wavelength bring some some rhythmic energy to the floaty synth pad action, more so the latter, while final track To Journey Without You goes all upper-astral on your aural centres.

So in all, a tidy little collection of pleasant tracks, with melodies that, while don't leap out and coddle your cochlea, should send your headspace into soothing serenity. I like this one, is what I'm saying, and even sticks with me after it plays, more so than some of Mick's other albums. Better than Zen Diagrams? Sure. Better than Saudade, then? Well, let's not get ahead of ourselves.

Sandoz - Intensely Radioactive

Touch: 1994

I really should have gotten this sooner. I adore Digital Lifeforms. I enjoy Chant To Jah. Why has it taken me this long to scope out all the Sandoz albums between? Are they ultra-rare or something? No more rare than anything else from Touch, which can be rather rare indeed. Not this one though, at least such that it hasn't reached ludicrous prices on the Discogs market yet. So why the long delay?

Uncertainty, mostly. The stylistic gap between those two Sandoz albums was wide, and Richard H. Kirk is a man of many muses, so who knew just how many different avenues he explored in the interim. Still, this Intensely Radioactive was released shortly after Digital Lifeforms, plus it retained The Designer's Republic artwork of whatever that body-horror abomination is. Odds were good we'd still be on that Afro-techno industrial dub tip.

Indeed, opener Beneath The City Streets practically picking up right where White Darkness left off. Eerie tones echoing of rusting monstrosities, mechanical beats cruising along a primitive rhythm, dubbed-out basslines reverberating off the deepest chambers, chants from the lands of Mali, and those distinct bleepy sounds that are a Sandoz staple (probably other Kirkian works too). In fact, it all sounds evolved from Digital Lifeforms, Richard far more confident in what this project is capable of. And while I still prefer the simplistic elegance of his earlier works, Beneath The City Streets does paint a richer canvas with similar elements.

Follow-up Inner Rhythms carries on, with another eerie opening that sounds right out of vintage Biosphere. The pace soon quickens though, and we're in for another tribal-techno work-out, all that wonderful industrial sonic grit dirtying the drums up in classic Psychick Warriors Ov Gaia fashion. Goodness though, does this track ever go on. The opener was over nine minutes, and this one hits the eleven minute mark, a little over-indulgent given the limited sounds on display. In fact, much of Intensely Radioactive feels longer than it needs to be, most tracks hovering around the nine-minute mark. There are occasions where my attention drifts, which didn't happen once on Digital Lifeforms. Quibbles, quibbles, always a quibble.

So Exoskeleton and Atro City Reaction get down to some Afro-boogie, Revolution and the titular cut are almost ridiculously brisk, and closer Luminous takes us out on the same vibe as opener Beneath The City Streets. Only, there's more of a benign feel now, as though we're finally acclimatized to this future-shock landscape, remnants of our humanity still lurking in the shadows, waiting to re-emerge after all has turned to rust.

Okay, I may be overstating things again, but what can I say? Sandoz' music ofttimes does weird things to my mindspace, transporting into a unique sonic realm few others manage. I'll never claim it's for everyone, but for the adventurous, there's little quite like what's heard on Intensely Radioactive. Including subsequent Sandoz albums, Mr. Kirk apparently going more jazzy. I, um, may skip on those for a while.