Ambidextrous - Fifty Years Of October

Fantasy Enhancing: 2021

Kind of weird to think of Fifty Years Of October is something of a capper on two decades of music making from Ambidextrous. Technically longer, but his 2001 album Erosion was the one that got a spiffy 20th anniversary vinyl re-issue, not 1998's Soundscape, so for all intents, I'll assume that's where Nick feels his music career properly starts. Still, my head has difficulty wrapping around that time span, since I only came into contact with Ambidextrous when he made his debut on Carpe Sonum Records (missing out on a CD copy of Geek Mythology notwithstanding, darn it all). Right, right, musicians have plenty of back catalogue existing long before a single Canadian discovers them, but even his Bandcamp is sparse on pre-2010 material. Not Soundscape though, that one's available.

Actually, I'm not entirely sure what Fifty Years Of October is all about. Previous albums from Ambidextrous had a clearer theme, mostly an interest in science stuff, so I assume that's the case with this one as well. Maybe something to do with topography or cartography? That certainly looks like a coastline on the cover-art, though where I haven't the foggiest. I kinda' want to assume the Russian Arctic, what with Nick being from Russia and all. I feel like having more insight into it would provide me with a better understanding of what theme runs through this album, as I struggle to find one. Or maybe there isn't any theme, Fifty Years Of October just a collection of tunes he happened to kick out for a follow-up to Echoes Of Science on Fantasy Enhancing.

Pros And Contras start things off, and it's familiar Ambidextrous vibes right from the jump. A mostly chill, dubby mood gently cruises along, synth and string pads casually guiding us while subtle acid burbles and charming leads spritely dance about. A pleasant number, as expected from Nick, but as mentioned, doesn't impart anything deeper than that upon this person. Follow-up Detour De Force initially goes a little more mechanical, then introduces a synth lead that has me thinking of some cheap '80s movie, its star wandering slummy streets in a sort of synthwave noir setting. Huh, can't say I was expecting that, especially with rhythms and effects that remain in ambient techno's lane.

Speaking of, Fozamo and Steamroller Maneuver definitely gets up on that vintage IDM business, while Bipolar Lights and Stellar Telegraph have themselves a bit of a classic Fax+ freak-out at their peaks. Come to think of it, I'm getting some sense of ol' school Spacetime Continuum out of this, which shouldn't be too surprising considering Ambidextrous' sound has always leaned a little retro. And while on the topic of sea biscuits, Fifty Years Of October closes out with Shell Life, all submerged ambient dub groove and floating soundscapes, with plenty of bleepy vibes throughout. A very relaxing way to take us out. Just wish I knew how it tied into the rest of the album, beyond existing for its own sake.

Various - Fabric 69: Sandwell District

Fabric: 2013

I've feigned surprise over some of the Fabric CDs that ended up on the used market, but I cannot deny legitimate shock at this one. I'll grant recollection's a bit hazy nearly a decade on, but wasn't Sandwell District's contribution to the series hailed as one of the 'crowning achievements' or something? For sure I remember a lot of hype and promo surrounding it because, goddamn, how are you gonna' forget cover art looking like this? Almost as striking as that one with the octopus on a dude's head. More than that though, most of the major 'zines covered fabric 69, so how could one not just assume Sandwell District was a Very Important conglomerate in the world of techno?

Actually, I'm not sure how accurate that is. Yeah, the label developed a feverish cult following throughout the '00s, but you can say that about any ol' techno label. The main players within the group – Karl O'Connor, Peter Sutton, David Sumner, and Juan Mendez – had all been involved in '90s minimalist techno one way or another (aliases Regis and Function the most famous of the lot). They certainly cultivated a particular sound on their label, keeping the classic, cavernous minimal style alive while other scenes became obsessed with Ableton micro-edits and white noise wank. Then, as Ostgut Ton overtook everything, Sandwell District looked primed to join them as brothers-in-arms. Except they disbanded soon after, everyone going their separate ways, some retreating from the spotlight altogether. And hoo, what a more perfect way to crystallize that cult status than that, eh?

Maybe that's why I've seen mostly lukewarm responses to fabric 69. Fans of Sandwell District wanted an exclamation mark on their legacy, a triumphant modus operani that solidified everything they held noble and true about the group. What they got instead was an interesting minimal techno mix that's more about audio space and head journeys than anything worth rinsing out at 4am on a Sunday morning. At least, that's what I assume fans of Sandwell District wanted.

But enough of that. What's important here is what I think of fabric 69. Me, someone who really only knows of the Sandwell District legacy in passing mention. It's a'ight, I guess. I can't be certain this was the case, but it sounds like each member got to have their own little mini-set within the greater whole. Things tend to reach a narrative mini-conclusion a few times as the CD plays, resetting shortly after for a slightly different techno build while retaining a stylistic Sandwell vibe throughout.

Some tracks like Mary Velo's Detune, Carl Craig's Darkness, and Untold's Motion The Dance work as centrepieces while bits and pieces of others (too many to list) are used as the mixing glue linking everything together. It honestly took me a couple listens for this one to sink in, so I can understand how fabric 69 may have been initially off-putting for some. Even such that they'd be willing to offload it for a fiver.

Enter Your Convoluted Star Trek Episode Title Here

So I ...didn't have anything significant happen to me this past month. Wait, has the world actually decided to pause, even for a little bit?

Not really, no, but as with all things with no clear end in sight, a lot now feels like it's settled into a 'new normal'. Or a 'temporary normal', I guess. Do we really want to go back to the 'old normal' though? When ever was that, come to think of it? For sure there are periods within the last few decades I'd like to think were 'normal', but probably more due to our sense of being climbatizing to whatever the latest shake-up from the old paradigm created. We just had so much come at us in such a couple short years that our ability to adapt to changing conditions was thrown seriously askew. Maybe we're growing better equipped at dealing with it now, in a sort of "Come at me, bro!" sort of way. Who knows, but I can at least say, in my tiny corner of the world, things haven't felt quite so hectic.

And yet, no new ACE TRACKS playlist this month. Hey, though my rate of reviews still isn't as high as it could be, this isn't all my fault. Sometimes the material I'm covering simply isn't available on the usual streaming services, and this is one of those times, well over 50% as such. Some of it, okay, I understand, DJ mixes coming out long ago, and difficult to secure streaming rights to. The Grid's Evolver though? You can find everything else from that duo on Deezer (and Spotify), but not their biggest ever album? Unless they're holding onto it for a spiffy 30th Anniversary re-issue, it don't make sense.

So yeah, nothing else to say in this update. Onwards then, Raving Soldiers, to whatever splendours and horrors await us in the coming months.

Various - Fabric 58: Craig Richards Presents The Nothing Special

Fabric: 2011

This is a strange edition. Oh, not the music within, most of it serviceable deep techno and tech-house as you'd expect from a resident of the Fabric nightclub. It's not even odd, if a little self-serving, that Craig Richards would have multiple sets in the fabric series. He kicked things off with Fabric 01, and naturally concluded it with Terry Francis and Keith Reilly in the triple-disc Fabric 100. Relatively early in fabric's lifespan, he used his Tyrant alias to do a double-disc set for Fabric 15. I don't think there was another 2CD edition of fabric or FabricLive after (centennial volume notwithstanding), so clearly a format the Fabric faithful weren't keen on. How nice of Mr. Richards taking that fumble with Tyrant.

Still, an artist using different aliases for different Fabrics wasn't unheard of. Heck, using a Fabric set as a promotional springboard for another project was almost expected, especially if someone had an album, label, or club night to launch. Such seems to be the case with Fabric 58, The Nothing Special a label that Craig Richards was set to premiere later that year. Or was it something else, and simply became a label? I'm not entirely sure, finding little info about this CD a decade on. Something about Craig wanting to create a specific night at Fabric where he'd have to DJ around live acts, but I hear little in this set that reflects such a purpose, Fabric 58 going as it means to go on in the hands of Mr. Richards.

All this, yet that's still not what boggles my mind about Fabric 58. No, what truly astounds me about this CD is how it disrupts the then-current cover art theme! Fabric always featured a trilogy of unique art that never had much of anything to do with the DJ involved. Sometimes you lucked out with cool silhouette urban art or abstract drawings, other times you'd be saddled with the guy with an octopus on his head. At this point in fabric's timeline (volumes 57 to 60) , it was people in striking-coloured bodysuits being assaulted by similarly coloured technology. Hey, such bodysuits were trendy back then, and if nothing else, one of the more memorable runs of cover art in fabric's history. But right smack in the middle of it, interrupting the sequence and triggering all sorts of OCD, comes Craig Richards' stark black 58. What, does he think he runs Fabric or something?

Okay, okay. The mix. Like I said, it's basically a deep tech-house outing, with a slant towards Detroitism. He throws in a liberal amount of '90s tunes from the likes of Two Lone Swordsmen, G-Man, Eco Tourist, Joel Mull, and Johnny Fiasco, and unsurprisingly are more interesting than the upfront material. I find Craig takes a bit too long to warm things up, nor does it shift any higher than mid-gear, but compared to the occasional dry sterility of fabric's previous half-decade, this one nicely bumps once it gets going.

Fabric 55: Shackleton

Fabric: 2010

Another year, another mini-splurge on Fabric CDs on the cheap. While it's doubtful I'll ever get them all, even the thirty-plus currently sitting on my shelves seems like a paltry amount compared to what's out there. Heck, I could expand that by ten more CDs, if I wanted to buy another bundle of ones available for under ten bones. Despite the series having ended, there's two-hundred releases under its banner, many of which are far from ever reaching the pricey collector's market

I bring this up because I find it rather bizarre that despite my generally restrictive rules in getting a Fabric CD (must be dirt cheap on Amazon), I've landed upon yet another 'artist' album in the series. Just how many of these are there? Ricardo Villalobos' entry was the most infamous, in that it was the one that broke that barrier in the first place. I remember there being a bit of a stir when Omar S did the same. I didn't even know Daphni (aka: Caribou; aka: Manitoba; aka: Mister Snaith; aka: Dan) had one until I got it. No doubt it takes a bit of gumption to even do such a thing when followers of Fabric expect DJ mixes featuring multiple artists on a single disc, not an excuse to hawk your own productions.

Of course, the argument can be made that some producers and DJs have a style that's so uniquely their own that doing an 'artist' album is about the only way they could do a Fabric set justice. It's certainly a worthy point when it comes to Shackleton. When he was still technically part of the dubstep lexicon, his style was far more tribal and primal compared to his contemporaries, quickly establishing himself as among the freshest sounding artists of the '00s UK bass scene.

Even after proper demarcations formed following those Wild West years, Shackleton still didn't fit tidily into any specific sub-genre. How, then, could he be expected to do a traditional DJ mix for Fabric if there were so few other cats making similar music he could rinse out? Still, the series wanted prominent names, so let him do it his way, even if the results are basically another artist album from the man. It's not like he had many under his belt by 2010 anyway.

And yep, fabric 55 is definitely a Shackleton set. Lots of afro rhythms, lots of tribal drumming, lots of minimalist dub, almost all fresh material (older joints like Hypno Angel and Massacre crop up), and in no hurry to get the party moving. I know my go-to comparisons for this sort of sound is Sandoz or Rapoon, but for some reason Muslimgauze at his more entrancing is the name that keeps cropping up in my mind in this outing. If Bryn Jones had been inspired by northern Africa rather than Arabia that is. And less about the industrial noise. Okay, it's not a perfect comparison, but I didn't want to again namedrop my old standbys.

Grid - Evolver

Deconstruction: 1994

What exactly is The Grid's legacy? For those in the UK who “where there” during their early '90s heyday, I see a fair amount of rosy-eyed comments and plaudits. Fair enough, the duo of David Ball and Richard Norris certainly finding a niche of their own within the British acid house scene, the single Floatation even contributing to a growing interest in Balearic-leaning 'ambient house'. On this side of the pond, however, we knew little of that, our first exposure of The Grid coming by way of their global chart-topping spaghetti-western singles Swamp Thing and Texas Cowboy. While I'm sure there were such tunes before, their massive success set off a nuclear bomb of novelty tracks of similar ilk: Cotton Eye Joe, Pipe Dreamz, Harmonica Man... Canadian DJ Chris Sheppard was especially enamoured with the stuff, even going so far as to tap Canadian fiddler Ashley MacIsaac for his own country ho-down dance tune. It seemed like we were inundated with the stuff.

Long story short, Teenage Sykonee didn't give The Grid any serious consideration because of those two singles, and the cover art of the album from whence they came didn't do it any favours either. Never mind some of my peers proclaimed that Evolver was “good, actually”, my first impressions stood firm. Then John Digweed included Floatation on his Choices collection, which made me reassess my initial assumptions. Always those nagging reassurances that Evolver was “good, actually”. Well, okay then, should I spot it as part of a cheap deal, I'll take a dive.

And yes, this album is surprisingly good, actually. Maybe not mind-bending stuff, but for an LP that holds Swamp Thing and Texas Cowboy on it, better than you'd expect. The only other track that treads into their territory is Throb, where The Grid try to replicate the country novelty shtick with thrashy guitar licks. Frankly, I find Throb even worse than the other two. Wait, am I faint-praising Swamp Thing and Texas Cowboy? Okay, fine, I am. There are parts of those songs I kinda' enjoy, like the building techno groove between the hokey banjo and faux-harmonica hooks.

Anyhow, the rest. Is it just me, or does Evolver edge ever so close to goa trance? Like, obviously nowhere near what Eat Static and Juno Reactor were up to at the time, but opener Wake Up has spaced-out synths, cosmic ethnic chants, and squirrelly acid leads. Y'know, the sort of sounds associated with Megadog parties. Shapes Of Sleep gets on something a little more sci-fi in its sampling, while Higher Peaks could have been a System 7 tune, if Steve Hillage was on that guitar instead. Rise and Spin Cycle slow things down to more of a prog-house tempo, but are no less filled with the trippy, tribal overtones, while closer Golden Dawn is basically where world beat and psy-dub meet in the distant past. All this, on the same record as the freakin' banjo song? Just who are The Grid, anyway?

Speedy J - Evolution

Plus 8 Records: 1991/2021

Alright, the first propah' Speedy J record from my massive Bandcamp bundle, and one of his earliest ones at that. In fact, ask some discerning Speedy J fans, and they'll tell you this is the first propah' Speedy J record period. Yeah, he had a couple items out prior, but that was old techno, still playing by old standards and following old tropes from two or three months in the past. And would still be heard in Euro techno for many years after, come to think of it. Not 'propah' techno, as disciples of Detroit would have it, in any event.

While I'm sure there were many factors influencing Jochem Paap's musical development, signing to Plus 8 Records had to be high among them. Rubbing shoulders with the likes of Richie Hawtin, John Acquaviva, Kenny Larkin, and Daniel Bell undoubtedly showed the Dutchman there was a fresher way of doing techno than what his countrymen were churning out. A better way. A Detroit way. Maybe even a 'warped' way, down the line. No, his sound had to evolve from obvious bangers like Something For Your Mind, so here's the Evolution E.P., with a lead track of Evolution.

And right from the jump, you can hear that Hawtin influence, the track's rhythm steady and deliberate. Slower too, compared to earlier Speedy J tracks, which were generally quite, um, speedy. A piercing little synth lead carries through the track, while various rave riffs and tension-building pads come and go. And through it all, that rhythm keeps marching along, snares crashing out as we get to the climax of the track. Yet that peak doesn't overstay its welcome either, giving us just enough of a tease to want more, which would likely be whatever weapon the DJ has lined up to follow.

If the Detroit overtures weren't already apparent enough, here's Destroit, a more straight-forward banger of a track with a janky lead that occasionally squelches and squeals. Apparently Hawtin did some additional tinkering to the track, though it's not clear what. Those sporadic rewinds? The choppy interruptions? There's a little synth-pad action towards the end, fairly standard stuff where Motor City vibes are concerned. Analogical Dub gets groovier. Dare I say, housier? Detroit house! No, wait, there's acid burbling about, so that officially makes it acid house. Scratch that, this sounds nothing like Chicago, what with the backing pads and all. Way too spaced-out for anything terra firma based, so space house it is. Or it's still techno, but of a more 'intelligent' sort. No, we can't call it trance, it's too early for that.

Anything else? Uh, not really. Despite the significant jump in songcraft compared to the Intercontinental EP, this is still Speedy J in development. Give a Dutchman a break though, it was only 1991. Why, the Artificial Intelligence series hadn't even debuted yet, so who knew just how creative this techno thing could potentially get. Gotta' let the technology catch up to our modern expectations, yo'.

Daar - Entire

Silent Season: 2021

Does anyone else get the sense Silent Season is slipping some? Not that I'd blame the little label from the Sunshine Coast having a fallow period. After the avalanche of activity that was the mid-'10s, however, these last couple years have been comparatively quiet. The last 'big ticket' item in their catalogue was Segue's The Island, almost three years ago now. 2021 saw just two albums released, and both quite early at that. In fact, this particular LP from Daar is already over a year old, and thus far the label's last. With a gap of fourteen months and counting, you'd be forgiven for thinking something's gone a little askew in Silent Season land. Again, maybe it's just well-deserved downtime after fifteen years in the business, but I do hope some news comes from their camps sooner rather than later.

Anyhow, Daar. One Álvaro Aragonés, there isn't much to go on from his Discoggian data. Self-released a couple albums on vinyl, plus a handful of tape singles along the way. Seems more active doing radio broadcasts out of Madrid, if his Soundcloud is anything to go by. Essentially a talent on the rise, with his debut on Silent Season possibly the greatest exposure he's yet gained abroad.

And opener Waves Your Back Describes is mostly familiar territory where this label's concerned. Dubbed-out field recordings, the sounds of tree foliage rustling as critters among the leaves chatter with each other. Waves gently lapping at shorelines, children distantly playing among themselves. And through it all, a singular synth pad glides along, imparting a feeling calming, melancholic isolation. Basically more North Shore grey, drizzly weather than Sunshine Coast. Now I feel like the cover art is what the world looks like from the inside of a bus during a heavy storm.

Follow-up Sea Wind is less heavy on the field recordings, though the odd, arrhythmic pitter-patter that opens does sound like sporadic splatter of rain dripping from an overhang. This one's mostly soft, airy pads and drones, with subtle synth pulses gradually gaining in prominence as the track plays out. Getting some major Substrata-era Biosphere out of this one. One field recording heavy Interlude later, and we're suddenly in Berlin-School territory with Mars Love. Yeah, there's some dub effects on those percolating synths, but that's about the extent of the track. Mellow Green Eyed Soul is in a similar vein, though heavier on the rhythmic aspect of the synths in use.

Another Interlude later, where the pad drone is so quiet, you'd be hard pressed to hear anything at all, and we're already in the final stretch of Entire. Gosh, did this album ever go by quick – are we sure this isn't an EP? I've sure been reviewing it as such, track-by-track and all. Anyhow, the titular tune features shimmering synth drone, a soft drum kick, and a spritely melody that's a nice contrast to the earlier moodiness. Coda is about as you'd expect, wrapping up a tidy little album from Daar.

The Green Kingdom - Empyrean

Dronarivm: 2021

I want to start this review with a total cliche like “Empyrean is the hotly anticipated follow-up to The Green Kingdom's breakout album Harbor”, but there's little truth to that. If anything, the hottest track in his discography is that Untitled 2 from Expanses, released two years before Harbor. Not to mention he's released some half-dozen additional albums since then, so whatever hot anticipation there may have been in the wake of the Hotline Miami 2 exposure has surely subsided some. I certainly don't see any additional LPs keeping pace in his Last.fm scrobbling stats, though Egress seems to have done respectable numbers.

But nay, there's a singular, silly reason why I've sub-consciously built internal hype around Empyrean. After spending half a decade wandering about labels like Lost Tribe Sound, Sound Of Silence, Hidden Vibes, and Past Inside The Present, Mr. Cottone finally returned to the label that nurtured his initial claim-to-fame, Dronarivm. Okay, maybe not 'claim-to-fame', but it's where both Expanses and Harbor were released, so greatest exposure. Maybe. It could have just been incidental coincidence it worked out like that, and something off of Incidental Music instead could have been the Hotline Miami 2 breakout.

(Fun Fact: I actually dozed off while listening to Green Kingdom's Springhill on Deezer, after which the streaming service spent the next seven hours playing music from other artists like Com Truise, Pilotpriest, Zombie Hyperdrive, Magic Sword... and Untitled 2 *ten* times! No wonder that track's got a tonne of streaming plays)

Anyhow, Empyrean is a little different compared to previous Green Kingdom Dronarivm outings, in that there's greater emphasis on piano rather than the usual assortment of acoustic guitar and sound-sample manipulations. I'm not sure whether Michael's gone this route in the past – he's got a lot of albums to sift through, after all. It wouldn't surprise me though, if more inclusion of the ol' ivories has been a recent development in his repertoire. Just like every dance music producer eventually turns to house or techno, every ambient producer eventually turns to modern classical, or minimalist piano at least.

And we're right off into the gentle piano with slide guitar ambience and crackly effects with opening Opalescent, a track that's all but guaranteed to get your Budd & Eno triggers flaring. Sun Tail gets back to the acoustic strumming, while Shinrin-yoku mixes the two up as a something of a duet. And speaking of Harold, Michael dedicates the mid-track Pavilion to him, a tune that I cannot deny, has me getting the weepy feels. It honestly takes me a bit to emotionally recover from that as the album plays out, but fortunately closer Another Sky does the trick with its angelic pads and ethereal guitar strums.

Yeah, Empyrean totally has a 'drifting among the clouds, basking in the filaments of heaven' vibe going for it. Which has been a comfortable lane for The Green Kingdom for a while now. Just this time, more piano, less tape fuzz and digital garbling.

Aythar - ElectrOcean / Winter Walk

Fantasy Enhancing: 2018/2021

Yay, a new Aythar album! This was self-released as a digital item a few years ago, but we all knew a physical option would emerge at some point. I mean, if even Cosmic Resonance made its way to CD, this had to be a shoo-in. So who's it gonna' be, then? Carpe Sonum again? A return to ...txt? Maybe one of those new-fangled labels Lee Norris set up like Neotantra?

Ah, it's the 'prestige' print, Fantasy Enhancing, with the DVD package and the like. Wait, you're not doing that, instead including a second album? So, a double-LP then? Not a double-LP, then, Winter Walk an entirely different collection of music. It's not unprecedented a double-album will contain two conceptually different CDs, but usually still under the same title. Odd choice, but hey, two new Aythar albums!

So ElectOcean. After spending so much time among the stars, Tamás Károly Tamás set his sonic sights a little closer to Earth. Or maybe its a space sea, one made of highly-charged electric particles! It certainly sounds little like the bounding main on terra firma, unusually crisp and clean, as though the water is made out of '90s CGI technology (so shimmery and plastic). Fortunately, we get a twenty-four minute meditative opener to properly submerge into this oceanic realm, Underwater Relax all flowing synth tones and grand pianos echoing from the distant depths as you slowly descend in some sort of submersible (it's all those bubbling effects). I cannot deny starting the album with such a lengthy piece does cause one's attention to drift, but isn't that the point of music designed for relaxing anyway?

With a proper Dive Into The ElectOcean, we're treated to some dubbed-out ambient techno with whale song in support. A little cliche perhaps, but Aythar's skill at songcraft keeps it a captivating excursion regardless. Protoplasm utilizes more echo and reverb over dub, in such a manner that it feels like you're listening to this from within an open sea cavern, while Electrolyte and the titular cut brings the actual electro to these oceans. In an ambient techno sort of way. The only track that seems a bit out of place is Welcome To Our Fairy World, an overtly twee piece that has me imagining swimming around chibi mermaids and dolphins. Child-like wonder at coral reef palaces, and such as.

Winter Walk, meanwhile, is mostly a pure ambient drone album, lengthy pieces taking you on calming journeys. Light And Snow has you out in the wilderness, huddled close to a simmering fire, the sounds of nearby fauna echoing off dense trees as everything is covered in white. Melting Glaciers offers a soft, liquid rhythm, but is no less tranquil. Elegy For The Arctic goes even more classic ambient than Light And Snow, the Eno vibes strong, while the titular tune offers something a little more chipper over the general melancholy that permeates the album. Only Dark Snow brings something rhythm heavy, almost shocking in its use of crisp, echoing beats.